Baldur's Gate Iii - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
I love the design of the goblin camp. The level design in general is top notch in this game, it's given me a ton of ideas on how to make battlemaps for my games.
Let's say I want to use this staircase for an encounter:
Using theater of the mind, you could describe this to your players as "ahead of you is a crude torch and small set of staircases that loops back to the higher level. The ground is made of old stone. Where the stone has given out, between the stairs, is wet and muddy."
You can maybe throw in that the mud slows you down, or you have to trudge through it when the players move forward, but it sets the stage for the rest of the encounter. It could be that the torch was lit, and now a goblin is coming by and they need to extinguish the flame so they aren't seen. Maybe a bunch of goblins are chasing them, so they have to choose between getting in the rough terrain, which would now be drawn on a battlemap, or risk getting knocked prone by jumping the ledge (potential athletics or acrobatics check).
Overall, the game is so well crafted and lovingly made that it's inspiring me to actually play DnD again. It bridges that gap between tabletop and video game so well without many of the drawbacks of it. DnD and BG3 are still wildly different systems and play as their respective medium, but it's such a good marriage of the mediums
I’ve started playing Baludr’s Gate 3 and it’s fantastic. My Tav is amazing, I already have the whole party too. I’m so good at this game it’s crazy.
Be prepared for me to talk about this game a bunch lol
My tav was an under the cut if you wanna see her.
She’s a noble Drow warlock, I lean into necromancy a lot.
Baldur’s Gate is so realistic, like duh of course seven random strangers with nothing in common would fall in love with me.
Edit: I wrote this when I was in Act 1, I know now that they share several things in common. I’m sorry pookies I didn’t know 😞
My Tav appreciation post
IM ROMANCING ASTARION AAHAHAHAHHAHHHHHH
Bouta give him the most heartfelt hug ever
Deleted everything off my computer to play Baldur’s Gate 3 like a real gamer
My sketches of pookie (all unfinished cuz thats how I roll.) She’s changed so much from the beginning but I love her all the same
Last part of my dump is my tav, Xena from when I first created her. Ate
a/n: my astarion brain rot has produced a thing. i've finally obsessed over this stupid scene to the point where i regurgitated this. have fun becos i certainly didn't
warning: allusions to spoilers, allusions to a lot of astarion's scenes, spoilers okay there's spoilers, mentions of mistreatment by others, no names or pronouns but this is my blind tiefling ranger oc, still in second person reader insert point of view though LOL
You sat almost stock still, your eyes looking like they were staring thoughtfully into the bonfire but, in reality, you saw only darkness. Your tiefling ears, though, heard everything. They twitched as you took stock of where everyone was.
Your bear familiar laid beside you, his fur brushing against your side, his head pressed to the outside of your thigh. You could hear the ever present grinding of Lae'zel as she sharpened her weapons for the dozenth time. You couldn't hear Shadowheart but she meditated so often that it was common not to know.
Wyll was somewhere near his tent, rifling through his things, preparing for the journey ahead. Gale was looking at himself using magic.
Of course, all of that didn't seem to matter because Astarion, as always, sat silently beside you, his calloused fingers making pleasant sounds against the parchment of the book he was leafing through.
"Astarion," you called out, your own hand still laid atop your bear's sleeping head "Can I ask you for a favor?"
Astarion stopped flicking through the book in his lap to hum, his red eyes darting to you in suspicion. "And what would your favor be, darling?"
You wouldn't have been able to tell, of course, seeing as you couldn't see, but he looked at you with a doubt that could only come from people who've been burned by others too much.
When he had hummed, you turned your head to face him, the jewels hanging from your horns twinkling. Your eyes were unseeing but Astarion always felt slightly unnerved by how it felt like they were staring straight into him.
Your hands lifted into the air, poised as if you were cupping some invisible thing in between them "Can I touch your face?"
Astarion was definitely taken aback. He even flinched a little, eyebrows scrunching, mind reeling.
You were asking to touch his face?
When you didn't hear a response, you smiled almost sadly, a pitying chuckle leaving your lips "Sorry, i-it's fine if it makes you uncomfortable. You don't have to. I know some people react badly when I ask."
"It's just. I'm able to find my way around through the noise and my other senses but I've never been able to put physical features to all of your names and voices." You explained, fingers curling a little, hesitating, hovering as if you weren't sure you could convince him "But out of everyone, I've especially wanted to know the face behind your melodic voice."
That didn't end up clarifying anything for Astarion.
First of all, though he'd been through his share of flattery and praise, he'd never heard his voice described as melodic before.
Second, he'd never told anyone but even he didn't know what he looked like. Astarion had a mirror he'd carry with him, something to peer into with desperation, but he always saw the same thing he'd always see: nothing.
That was, maybe, where his hesitation came from. He didn't know how monstrous he looked as a vampire.
Not hideous, of course. He knew he was handsome because he'd been able to lure many a woman and even a few men to their demises. No, he feared he looked monstrous the same way Cazzador looked monstrous; more than beautiful enough but always the cruelty bled through and revealed itself.
Still, Astarion couldn't find it in himself to deny you. You, who so graciously defended him against all the others in your little group. You, who bled for him every night and still looked at him like he had some humanity left in him. You, who intrigued him at every step.
"Perhaps you can tell me what I look like then." He decided to joke in that same pompous tone he used when he felt a bit too vulnerable "I haven't been able to see myself in hundreds of years."
You frowned at that but your expression immediately turned to one of curiosity "Really?"
"Astarion nodded before moving to place his face into your hands.
Your hands were almost unbearably warm against his almost chilling skin, your claws, as long as his, brushing against the apples of his cheeks.
As soon as you realised his face was in your hands, your face scrunched into an expression of concentration.
First, you brushed your thumbs over his skin, under his eyes, to his cheeks, up to his temples. You looked contemplating, like you really were forming a picture in your mind.
"Well, you have very nice laugh lines." You smiled, gently, sweetly, in a way that made Astarion's undead heart almost beat.
"Preposterous. I'm a vampire, not your homely grandmother. I do not age." He answered you, rolling his eyes, and you could feel the way his expression contorted into an exasperated one underneath your very hands.
You just laughed "I like it. You know, you sound very handsome when you laugh."
Another exasperated noise but you ignored it in favour of brushing your thumbs over his eyebrows "I can tell you furrow your eyebrows often."
"You can tell something like that?" Astarion sounded disbelieving.
You nodded "I lived in Baldur's Gate but we didn't have a home really. We moved from place to place. But I had my own little ragtag family and they would let me practice on their faces; they'd let me touch as they laughed and smiled and grew angry or sad."
Astarion almost wanted to ask you to continue but, from your expression, he felt as if it wasn't the time or place.
"My mother always fretted over everyone; she'd have wrinkles right here because she furrowed her eyebrows so much." You pressed in between Astarion's eyebrows, thumb running over it as if trying to flatten away his worries, before moving back to the corners of his eyes "And whenever my friend smiled, her eyes would upturn right here."
"I bet you look gorgeous smiling, Astarion."
Then, you moved on, moving back down his face, down to his lips. You traced the corners of his mouth, feeling for something that Astarion couldn't understand.
All of it was beyond Astarion's comprehension. He wasn't a stranger to compliments but it felt like yours reached somewhere deep inside him and brought it peace.
Something about it all both tranquilized him and unnerved him all the same.
"You must smirk a lot. I bet you look boyishly handsome when you do. Your voice always sounded so mischievous to me." You huffed, sounding jokingly tired of his antics before running your left thumb over his lips, feeling both the softness and the roughness of it under your fingertip "And you bite your lips a lot. I can feel the scars of it. Though I doubt it would be noticeable to anyone else. Your lips are soft either way. It's a very pretty shape."
Astarion recalled all the countless nights of him biting away cries of pain, cries of agony, the way he'd always bite his lip in frustration and anger. Nobody had ever noticed that, not until you, and it felt like sharing a secret.
Then, as suddenly as your request had come, you pulled away, that gentle touch that soothed a part of Astarion gone as soon as it had been offered.
"Sorry." You looked sheepish, embarrassed "I know a lot of people don't like others touching their face, especially a Tiefling."
Before you could truly pull away though, Astarion pulled your hands back to his face, sandwiching them in between his cold calloused palms and the soft chill of his cheeks.
"It's fine, darling, I don't care." He tried to build his walls back up and, at the same time, let you in "I, for one, always welcome compliments, no matter what the type."
Your thumbs hesitantly, slowly, reached his eyes. You felt his eyelashes flutter close before you were feeling his eyelids, velveteen and twitching. Your thumbs mapped over it, over the shape and the dips of his eyes.
"What color are your eyes?" Your thumbs moved on, again feeling the corners of his eyes, brushing over them in circles as if comforting Astarion somewhat.
"Red, like any vampire's." Astarion answered easily enough, swallowing down a memory of Cazzador's striking red eyes.
"I can tell they're very kind; sharp around the corners but round everywhere else. I bet your stare is very enchanting." You laughed a little in that breathy tinkling way you always did.
Astarion frowned a little, still disbelieving, unable to accept words like 'kind' to describe him.
Then, finally, your hands moved away from his face entirely, your fingers suddenly combing through his hair, feeling it in between your fingers and with your very fingertips "Oh, you have such curly hair!"
"It used to be something else, I think." He tried to recall but quickly grew frustrated when the information didn't come easily "But now it's white."
"Oh, Astarion." You sighed, hands finally coming out of his hair to cup his cheeks "You're so handsome. I'm so glad to finally know what you look like."
Astarion nodded, trying to brush your painfully sincere words off but, instead, they struck him, buried deep inside him.
If you felt a slight bit of wetness in the corners of his eyes, you didn't mention it.
I started playing Baldur's Gate 3...
He's going to ruin me.
𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏, 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑?
