In exploring and manipulating the Fade is where the majority of my own magical capability lies. It is the realm of magic, of spirits, and of dreams. It is a mutable place of raw power, and emotion. When something happens in the physical world, it is often mirrored there, and remembered, particularly if it was an event of significant emotion. When a mind sleeps, it goes into the Fade, and what the mind remembers, or imagines, shapes the Fade to match. That is what dreams are, fundamentally.
All minds touch the Fade in some capacity, unless they have been severed from it. And those that have been so severed... [He hesitates, mastering himself.] ...to be made Tranquil is a fate worse than death. In a way it is a living death.
I have always felt certain that the Veil is reason for the short lives of elves. So, you may imagine my horror to arrive here, and find myself cut off from the Fade almost entirely.
[It sounds a little like the feywild, which follows, really, based on what Barcus knows of the origins of elfkind in his own universe.]
Elves don't require sleep in Faerun. [He says, as if this might be another piece of a puzzle. Parallels between two worlds that almost, but don't quite, match up.] They go into a meditative state instead, usually for only a few hours a night. Unless they're very ill or injured.
[Gods. The way Solas says that, it sounds terrifying. Like having part of your own mind walled off and inaccessible.]
I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must feel like.
That makes it even more remarkable what you were able to do. I know I'm not the only one you were able to heal.
I was... in some distress, that day. Without Lavellan there to steady me, I am not sure what I would have done.
[Probably nothing different, but maybe something very, very stupid, with Rook's right hook as added motivation towards foolishness. But then, that had never come to pass: he had Beleth to thank, for that.]
The masters of this place have made it clear; they will strip away the parts of myself that they deem fit to do so, and return them only in exchange for favors rendered. We did not hesitate to put ourselves to work.
Though, in your case, I would merely have preferred to see your body repaired. As I said: you have been a friend to me, in this place, when I had done little to deserve it. I am grateful to have met you first.
[Barcus is attentive to the emotions of the people he speaks with, the people he's closest to. It never fails to astonish him how widely the attitude towards their situation varies. From Night Sky's easy acceptance based on her own tumultuous history, Ashton's casual determination to take the good in this situation and savor it for all its worth, to Bel's quiet skepticism, to Gadriel's readiness to more or less punch god given the opportunity to get close enough. Solas seems closer to the Sergeant's end of the spectrum--his bitterness is understandable.
Barcus isn't sure where he stands, himself, some days. But today, his heart aches for this man, to a degree that's probably unwise. There are few words as devastating and persuasive to him as friend; said in the right tone at the right moment, it unlocks a willingness to do insane things for people.
This is one of those moments, but luckily there's not much he can do, insane or otherwise, that he hasn't already offered. Soup. Empathy. Information.]
I didn't do much, you know. Just offered what I could. [A glimmer of warm humor in his voice:] Maybe your bar is set too low, my friend.
With the right leverage, a single man could overturn the gods. At our first meeting, it was mentioned that others will tend to underestimate the small.
[One night. One night, and one nightmare, as mortal minds experience them, had been enough to crack Solas nearly in half. The information about the rebreathers, the flares he gifted to Lavellan... Small deeds, for Barcus, but the difference between night and day, for himself.
Not a proud moment, that day. But also not one he can forget.]
Though you may be right. Perhaps we shall endeavor to raise it. I will ask—
I suppose that's true. I just don't think I'm the man to overturn the gods, small or otherwise. [Politely tell them off to their faces, though? That he'd do.
Maybe small kindnesses can be worth more than he knows. Barcus does them because that's just who he prefers to be, and the idea that they could mean so much is humbling and flattering all at once. Slightly flustered, he's happy to change the subject.]
Tieflings are humanoid beings, usually about the same size as humans or half-elves, but they also have horns, and tails, and their skin comes in colors like deep red or ochre or shades of violet. A lot of the time they have glowing eyes, as well. They're distantly descended from the archdevils of the Nine Hells, and so they're often feared and mistreated in Faerun.
I used to find them unsettling, myself, although I've always tried to be polite. It's not as if anyone can help who their ancestors were. The more you talk to them, the more you see they're just people. Anthem and her...husband? I think? His name is Zevlor. Are the only two I know of here. I don't know him well, but I've quested with her.
A little bit cavalier with a fireball, but otherwise I like her.
I've noticed that. Close enough to reference one another, but with vastly different problems to face.
The same is true of Exandria, where Ashton comes from. I've wondered if the faction leaders are bringing people from worlds that bear similarities to this one. A lot of the plant life, fauna, monsters, are similar to creatures I could have run across back home. Maybe there's something else similar, on a magical or spiritual level, that I can't see.
I don't know Anthem well but I think if you approach her on an intellectual level, she'll be willing to talk with you.
[Varterral are awful. Of all the hideous crimes against nature and good sense that Ghilan'nain ever made, they are his least favorite.]
An interesting theory. As my connection to the Fade continues to reestablish itself, I may become more capable of observing such differences. Shall I take notes?
[The only difference between science and screwing around is writing it down! Taking notes is a very important part of being taken seriously, and the gnomish language is perfect for it.]
Well, yes. They can be, and they're vulnerable to radiant magic, but they're very powerful. In Faerun, they're drow--Underdark elves--usually male, that have been cursed by their goddess for some offense or another. They have no choice but to serve her, still, but the suffering she's put them through usually doesn't leave much left of their minds.
Killing them is probably merciful, when it can be done.
Here in Caldera, I'm less sure about what happens to create a drider. I encountered one on a quest with Anthem, and thank whatever gods are listening she was there because there's no way I would have been able to defeat him alone. Didn't get to ask him many questions either, though.
[Solas can only stare at the little bird-shaped device in mute despair. It really is upsetting, how similar their worlds truly are. The curse of a goddess to twist their flesh. Yes.]
I see. [This is horrifying. Driders. What a concept.] And... the Underdark is... a religious distinction?
[If it sounds like he's guessing, it's because he is.]
It's a place. There are thousands of miles of caverns under the surface of my world, filled with various kinds of monsters, aberrations, and people. Deep gnomes, like myself, are adapted to the dark. That's why my skin is the shade of stone; for stealth. Drow and Duergar are much the same in coloring. Grey, dark brown, or nearly-black skin. Pale blue, violet, or red eyes. White hair, when we have hair at all.
We probably look related to someone unused to the culture, but we're not usually friendly.
But for the record, the two drow I've met here are fine. I consider them friends.
[Many would look at himself and Beleth, and think them much the same. But the differences were crucial, and the effects of those differences dramatic.]
You have many friends here, Barcus. I am glad to know it. But I should permit you to return to your convalescence and... I am informed that I should attend to my own duties.
[Lavellan thought he was sleeping. She has discovered that he is not.]
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 06:22 am (UTC)All minds touch the Fade in some capacity, unless they have been severed from it. And those that have been so severed... [He hesitates, mastering himself.] ...to be made Tranquil is a fate worse than death. In a way it is a living death.
I have always felt certain that the Veil is reason for the short lives of elves. So, you may imagine my horror to arrive here, and find myself cut off from the Fade almost entirely.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 07:06 am (UTC)Elves don't require sleep in Faerun. [He says, as if this might be another piece of a puzzle. Parallels between two worlds that almost, but don't quite, match up.] They go into a meditative state instead, usually for only a few hours a night. Unless they're very ill or injured.
[Gods. The way Solas says that, it sounds terrifying. Like having part of your own mind walled off and inaccessible.]
I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must feel like.
That makes it even more remarkable what you were able to do. I know I'm not the only one you were able to heal.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 07:15 am (UTC)[Probably nothing different, but maybe something very, very stupid, with Rook's right hook as added motivation towards foolishness. But then, that had never come to pass: he had Beleth to thank, for that.]
The masters of this place have made it clear; they will strip away the parts of myself that they deem fit to do so, and return them only in exchange for favors rendered. We did not hesitate to put ourselves to work.
Though, in your case, I would merely have preferred to see your body repaired. As I said: you have been a friend to me, in this place, when I had done little to deserve it. I am grateful to have met you first.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 08:11 am (UTC)Barcus isn't sure where he stands, himself, some days. But today, his heart aches for this man, to a degree that's probably unwise. There are few words as devastating and persuasive to him as friend; said in the right tone at the right moment, it unlocks a willingness to do insane things for people.
This is one of those moments, but luckily there's not much he can do, insane or otherwise, that he hasn't already offered. Soup. Empathy. Information.]
I didn't do much, you know. Just offered what I could. [A glimmer of warm humor in his voice:] Maybe your bar is set too low, my friend.
But I try, and I will continue to try.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 04:58 pm (UTC)[One night. One night, and one nightmare, as mortal minds experience them, had been enough to crack Solas nearly in half. The information about the rebreathers, the flares he gifted to Lavellan... Small deeds, for Barcus, but the difference between night and day, for himself.
Not a proud moment, that day. But also not one he can forget.]
Though you may be right. Perhaps we shall endeavor to raise it. I will ask—
[What had he said. Anthem? Tiefling?]
...What... is a Tiefling?
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Date: 2025-01-19 05:42 pm (UTC)Maybe small kindnesses can be worth more than he knows. Barcus does them because that's just who he prefers to be, and the idea that they could mean so much is humbling and flattering all at once. Slightly flustered, he's happy to change the subject.]
Tieflings are humanoid beings, usually about the same size as humans or half-elves, but they also have horns, and tails, and their skin comes in colors like deep red or ochre or shades of violet. A lot of the time they have glowing eyes, as well. They're distantly descended from the archdevils of the Nine Hells, and so they're often feared and mistreated in Faerun.
I used to find them unsettling, myself, although I've always tried to be polite. It's not as if anyone can help who their ancestors were. The more you talk to them, the more you see they're just people. Anthem and her...husband? I think? His name is Zevlor. Are the only two I know of here. I don't know him well, but I've quested with her.
A little bit cavalier with a fireball, but otherwise I like her.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 06:19 pm (UTC)[And encouraging too, by turns. Solas is more grateful than ever to have forged a connection with Barcus.]
Thank you, once again. I will endeavor to introduce myself.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 07:49 pm (UTC)The same is true of Exandria, where Ashton comes from. I've wondered if the faction leaders are bringing people from worlds that bear similarities to this one. A lot of the plant life, fauna, monsters, are similar to creatures I could have run across back home. Maybe there's something else similar, on a magical or spiritual level, that I can't see.
I don't know Anthem well but I think if you approach her on an intellectual level, she'll be willing to talk with you.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-19 08:06 pm (UTC)[Varterral are awful. Of all the hideous crimes against nature and good sense that Ghilan'nain ever made, they are his least favorite.]
An interesting theory. As my connection to the Fade continues to reestablish itself, I may become more capable of observing such differences. Shall I take notes?
no subject
Date: 2025-01-21 12:59 am (UTC)They can't be Lolth-cursed, at least, but psychotic half-elf half-spider creatures are things that shouldn't exist no matter how you slice it.
You're asking a gnome if you should take observational notes? Yes, please, take notes and share! I'll do the same.
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Date: 2025-01-21 01:52 am (UTC)That description is closer to a Varterral than is comfortable. Can a drider be killed?
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Date: 2025-01-24 01:33 pm (UTC)Well, yes. They can be, and they're vulnerable to radiant magic, but they're very powerful. In Faerun, they're drow--Underdark elves--usually male, that have been cursed by their goddess for some offense or another. They have no choice but to serve her, still, but the suffering she's put them through usually doesn't leave much left of their minds.
Killing them is probably merciful, when it can be done.
Here in Caldera, I'm less sure about what happens to create a drider. I encountered one on a quest with Anthem, and thank whatever gods are listening she was there because there's no way I would have been able to defeat him alone. Didn't get to ask him many questions either, though.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-26 06:34 pm (UTC)I see. [This is horrifying. Driders. What a concept.] And... the Underdark is... a religious distinction?
[If it sounds like he's guessing, it's because he is.]
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Date: 2025-02-02 08:23 pm (UTC)We probably look related to someone unused to the culture, but we're not usually friendly.
But for the record, the two drow I've met here are fine. I consider them friends.
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Date: 2025-02-02 10:50 pm (UTC)[Many would look at himself and Beleth, and think them much the same. But the differences were crucial, and the effects of those differences dramatic.]
You have many friends here, Barcus. I am glad to know it. But I should permit you to return to your convalescence and... I am informed that I should attend to my own duties.
[Lavellan thought he was sleeping. She has discovered that he is not.]