ODA, WHERE IS TRAFALGAR LAW!!!!!!!!

Lil’ bit of wizard lore…

I saw a post from @chaushaus a while ago that has been stewing on the back burner of my brain ever since. They mentioned how absurdly rare it would be to meet a wizard as accomplished as Gale. In writing his pre-canon, I have spent an embarrassing number of hours in old sourcebooks et al., and for the Gale-curious, I thought it might be fun to put some numbers to that.

Ed Greenwood estimated in 2020 that, among the inhabitants of the Sword Coast countryside in the 1490s DR:

— About 1 in 9,000 possesses “the Gift”: the innate capacity to wield the Art at all.
— About 1 in 40,000 can cast a cantrip or two.
— About 1 in 70,000 can cast 1st-level spells.
— About 1 in 90,000 can cast 2nd-level spells.

In subsequent clarification, Ed added that ancestral, inherited magic (mechanically speaking, magic as “racial traits”) should be excluded from these calculations, but the larger discussion explicitly includes sorcerers, warlocks, clerics, and other forms of spellcaster, while also warning that player-character rules give a distorted impression of magic’s prevalence.

Conveniently for us, Gale is human and emphatically, a wizard.

Among such people, even the bare potential for wizardry occurs in roughly 0.011% of the population. Someone capable of casting a cantrip belongs to approximately 0.0025%. By comparison, what we ordinarily call a “gifted” student falls somewhere within the top 3–5%.

So every human wizard begins as something vastly rarer than what we would call gifted—and that is merely the entrance to the road. From that vanishingly small population must come those who find instruction, can afford it, survive it, and possess the intellect and discipline to advance.

Most people will never meet a wizard.

Most wizards will never meet anyone like Gale.

And even among the most special-est of boys, Gale is still almost incomprehensibly adept.

It is rather apt that Gale calls Karsus “perhaps the most powerful wizard that ever lived.” He leaves himself that single, glittering qualification—because Gale may very well be an even greater natural magical talent.

Karsus is canonically statted as a 41st-level Netherese arcanist by the time of the Folly, when he was 357 years old. How that translates into modern wizard levels is largely guesswork. Netherese arcanists operated beneath an entirely different magical order, progressing beyond twentieth level into tenth-, eleventh-, and ultimately twelfth-level magic.

The clearer measure of Karsus’s raw precocity is his childhood.

Karsus first wielded magic at the tender age of two, when he instinctively cast a cantra. Netheril: Empire of Magic says, “The priesthood of Mystryl immediately recognised his promise and undertook his magical education.

At twenty-two, Karsus became the youngest archwizard in Netherese history. In Netheril, that title represented a specific and formidable achievement: an archwizard had to create a mythallar, sever a mountain from the earth, raise it into the sky, and establish an enclave upon it. Karsus had entered the province of tenth-circle magic before most modern wizards would have completed an several lifetimes of study.

Gale’s first recorded working occurred “whilst still a babe,” when he terrified his mother by conjuring a score of rabbits into the pantry.

We cannot assign that feat an exact spell level, but some uncontrolled working of the 2nd-level spell Flock of Familiars feels correct.

A 2nd-level spell ordinarily becomes available to a 3rd-level wizard. Karsus’s first recorded magic at two was a cantrip. Gale’s first recorded magic, while still young enough to be called a babe, already resembled second-circle conjuration. His magic began two full spell circles farther along than that of the child who would become the greatest archwizard of Netheril.

By no more than eight, Gale had advanced again. Elminster remembers meeting him with his eyebrows singed away by the Fireball he had unleashed into a neighbour’s rosebush—a 3rd-level spell ordinarily requiring the education and command of at least a 5th-level wizard.

Thus, while an ordinary eight-year-old might only just have begun learning letters, Gale had already travelled through the equivalent of five wizard levels.

Then there are Tara and K’ha’ssji’trach’ash.

While still young enough for his parents to deny him a kitten, Gale “summoned [himself] a tressym.” What arrived was not a temporary spell-form compelled to appear, obey, and vanish at his command, but Tara: an intelligent, independent being entirely capable of refusing Gale anything she pleases. She remained because she chose to become part of his life.

Nor was Tara his only success. Gale recalls summoning “things rather more exotic than a winged cat,” including a magma mephit: “Nice fellow—we kept in touch.” Later dialogue identifies him as K’ha’ssji’trach’ash, the same mephit Gale entrusts with his resurrection protocol. Years after their first meeting, K’ha’ssji’trach’ash can still be called by a prepared melody and his true name to perform a service arranged with Gale.

A particular elemental summoned by name, treated as an independent intelligence, recalled across the planes, and bound to a continuing service falls quite distinctly within the tradition of planar calling. Its nearest conventional equivalent is Lesser Planar Binding, a fifth-circle spell ordinarily unavailable before a wizard’s ninth level

The surviving record gives us no comparable account of Karsus’s intermediate childhood progress. It takes him from a cantra at two to archwizardry at twenty-two. Gale’s milestones allow us to see the steps: second-circle magic in infancy, third-circle magic by eight, and something resembling fifth-circle calling while still young enough to be refused a pet.

By the earliest measurements canon gives us, Gale began farther along and climbed faster than the wizard remembered as the greatest magical prodigy Faerûn had ever produced.

And that is before we reach the height of his power.

Gale gives us the most revealing measure of his pre-orb command of the Weave in Early Access:

“There was a time I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish.”

He immediately describes these as feats “even archwizards would marvel at.”

The tower is particularly significant. Its closest Netherese analogue is Proctiv’s Move Mountain, the tenth-circle spell used to sever mountains from the earth, invert them, and raise the floating enclaves of Netheril. Gale’s feat is smaller in scale, and he does not identify the spell, but the magical conception is unmistakably similar: a great structure severed from its foundations and raised by command of the Art.

It places Gale’s former command of the Weave in the conceptual territory of Netherese epic magic.

Baby Gale art by MaxArtist on Vgen

Food: salmon nigiri

Food: red cabbage, carrot, and mint salad

Thank you for the tags @kt-catt @cep-stories and @glitterandmoondustofficial !!

Chapter 31 of Song-Hexed. Therran's perspective. 💖

*also yes, they still celebrate birthdays despite the fact they're all immortal*

The rage I'm feeling towards the vile woman that went after my sister, and her own child, is unmatchable. When I saw the blood run down Emmy’s leg, her tears, and the shock state she was in, I felt heavy emotions that had me screaming internally. Fanden felt them too. 

“Emmy, would you feel better if we all walked you home? I'm sorry you had to encounter this, and I hate that she ruined a part of your day that was supposed to be special,” I ask her as we stand in the middle of the stone-brick road further away from the city so we aren't grabbing too much attention. Kairon has his left arm wrapped around Emmy’s waist, unable to keep his worried eyes off her. Jenevelle is curled up comfortably in the stroller in plain sight of the both of them. 

“Yes. I'm still a bit shaken up,” Emmy murmurs, taking a deep breath. “Thank you. I love you both so much.” 

Kairon meets my gaze and nods, a very light smile beginning to curl on his lips as he silently mouths the words, ‘Thank you.’

Karlach, Fanden, and I walk around my sister and Kairon as we travel back to the tower. Kairon opens the door, and at that very moment, as he takes Jenevelle inside, I pull Emmy in for a comforting hug to assure her I'm always here for her. 

“Fanden and I love you. Our baby.” She takes a very deep breath while her head is on my chest, and with the quietest of tones, she whispers back, “I love you too. I can't imagine what I would do if we never got united.”

My sister and Fanden exchange a loving hug, and once she is back inside the home, the door shuts behind her. All three of us turn around to head back to my parents’ house, and now I'm curious on what's to happen next. 

“That was a shit show. You know, what happened at the restaurant,” Karlach murmurs, and it's clear to me she wishes she could've done more. “Like…what if we didn't stop her in time, and she took off with Jenevelle? Why is she targeting Emmy? I have so many fucking questions.”

I turn to face the woman of smoke and embers, and a genuine smile touched my lips despite the tension humming between us. Her fury is a beautiful, terrible thing. I watch as she tries to contain the inferno inside, her golden eyes narrowing to fiery slits. Her nose wrinkles a scrunch that reveals just how much she is actually holding back. Her jaw is clenched so tightly that I can see the muscles jump along her cheekbones, and the sharp tips of her fangs are visible as she grits her teeth.

I place my hands gently on her shoulders, a simple gesture meant to ground her. Beneath my palms, her muscles are coiled and tense, but as she registers my touch, I feel the rigid tension begin to soften. Her breathing, which has been a series of sharp, ragged gasps, slowly starts to even out. The fierce heat radiating from her skin feels less like a threat and more like a gentle warmth. A long, shuddering sigh escapes her lips as her eyes slowly open, revealing a depth of vulnerability.

“Thank you for doing what you did for my little sister. I tried so hard to prevent myself from going after that…person…but you took one for the team, Karlach. She means the entire universe to Fanden and I. Words can't express how–” 

With a growl as fiery as her spirit, Karlach interrupts my thoughts. She presses her lips against mine, a searing kiss that sets my senses ablaze. The burning intensity is intoxicating, a physical manifestation of the joy she finds in me. The soft touch lingers for a moment, and I find myself silently begging, pleading that this moment, this feeling, never ends.

However, her captivating lips release themselves from mind after just a minute, and her vibrant autumn-colored eyes widen from shock. 

“I…I have to go.” She shifts her body the opposite direction and bolts as embarrassment flushes through her. I want to chase after her and assure her that it's alright, that I wanted the same romantic encounter as she. Unless, for some reason, something else beneath the surface is bothering her. I didn't realize how much I wanted her close to me until she kissed me just now, and I probably won't stop thinking about it. Damn it. 

“This day just keeps getting more interesting, huh?” Fanden mutters in a teasing manner, then wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Don't worry. She’ll come running back to you, I have a feeling. Let's get home, shall we?” 

“You're right. We have to get ready for the little housing community dad is building. Shit, we haven't told Emmy that it's almost finished. When do we tell her all the details, anyway?” 

Fanden and I begin walking along the trail as the sun begins to set, enjoying the peace we’re finally able to endure after a chaotic day. 

“Dad said we can't tell her until her birthday next week. I hope she's on board. You and I have our own place away from our parents, but still being neighbors… But God, it'll be so fun having Emmy and Kairon next door. Plus, she’ll have more room for her garden. I think Dad said he wants to be the one to spill the news, anyway.”

Ah, Emmy’s birthday. We have so much planning to do! And I think I have the perfect idea in mind, I'll just need to find a way to yoink her husband away from the tower for a little while without giving too much away. Good thing I was taught how to bake from a young age, because Mr. Therran Gortash is going to create the most fantastic cake for our girl. 

Fanden and I stroll through the beautiful city of Waterdeep, and as we approach our home, the sound of Halsin’s voice can be heard in the distance. 

“Hey you two!” We turn around, noticing the large elven druid approach us eagerly. “I wish I caught you sooner. How’s Emmy holding up?” He is maintaining fierce, passionate eye contact with Fanden that's undeniably flirtatious, though I sense he is genuinely concerned about our sister.

“She isn't doing great, but I think she's at ease knowing that woman got arrested,” Fanden responds, not appearing to be as flirtatious as our friend Halsin. Then again, the only thing on my brother’s mind is the worry he has for Emmy and not striking a conversation with anyone at this point.  I notice a light, wholehearted smile light up his face at least. 

“Well, I'll be thinking about her. I’m still in shock that someone would go to lengths like that…and her poor baby was so terrified, I can still hear her cries. Tomorrow is a new day. Let's hope life for her only goes uphill from here.” Halsin smiles back at my brother, his left eye winking as he refuses to break his gaze. “Take care, Fanden. I hope to see you soon.”

Summary: Morena is inducted into the secret ruling council of Waterdeep: The Masked Lords.

Another remix of purple witchy whimsy pngs!

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Ty <3

Thank you @kt-catt, @bladesingerlily, and @optimisticgrey for the tags!

Been working some more on the "Wyll as gothic heroine" AU lately, so here's another taste.

(This takes place the morning after Astarion makes a little unknowing snack of Wyll in the night.)

A note rested for him on the floor, slid under the door in the night. The paper was a simple, short message in a clean, precise hand:

I do hope you slept well. You are quite welcome to join my sister and myself in the parlor across the hall for breakfast and a tour.

- A.A.

Wyll was uncertain if his shiver was a good or bad one. He'd very much not had a restful night, but his host wouldn't know that, the handsome man with the easy smile who talked too much with his hands.

Setting the note aside, Wyll left the chamber to more properly meet the owner of the house.

Astarion waited in the parlor, sprawled elegantly in a velvet armchair with a teacup in hand. His smile was indulgent. "Our esteemed guest arrives!"

Miss Hallowleaf stood before a sideboard in a lavender brocade tea gown, daintily placing items on a plate from a small spread. A thick slice of brown bread slathered with butter and jam was joined on the plate by slices of ripe pear and a serving of smoked fish, straight from the nearby Chionthar.

She spared Wyll a glance, gave a prim, "good morning," and took a seat at a small table to nibble at her food.

Astarion waved a dismissive hand. "Ignore her, she's not much of a morning person."

At that, she snorted, then covered it with a cough.

That garnered a sharp look from Astarion, then a shrug. "All right, neither am I, usually. I prefer more… nocturnal pursuits." There it was again, that velvet in his voice. "But I've made a special exception, just this once. For you."

Wyll's stomach clenched.

Astarion's eyes were piercing shards of chill ice, smile wicked. His words rich and thick as honey. "How did you sleep?"

His half-sister stared daggers at her plate as if she wanted to murder the pears.

"A few ill dreams, but nothing to worry about," Wyll answered. Unfortunately, his stomach chose that moment to growl.

"Please," Astarion gestured to the sideboard, an empty plate and teacup awaiting. "Help yourself."

"And you?"

"I was a bit ravenous, it seems. Couldn't wait. I already ate."

Miss Hallowleaf's knife rattled loudly on the plate as she sliced a bit of pear with more force than was truly necessary. Her lips were set in a tight line.

I'm here on this Sunday to continue my Tale of Three Gales, in which Gale accidentally triples himself and it's not so easily undone. For waht could be more self-indulgent than three handsome wizards? In this part, our Gales have established a not-so-harmonious working relationship when Alyss stumbles on the scene and is confronted with three similar yet very different versions of the man she loves. And ty for the tags, @cep-stories (Eliwyn's Breakup Letter), and @bladesingerlily (Lily's First War Crime) [Part 1]

A Tale of Three Gales, Part 2

About an hour in, the door to the roof opened and Alyss walked out. She was half-dressed, with her robe fluttering open over a creamy muslin chemise, her hair flowing down her back like warm honey, and she was in the process of clasping a bracelet around her wrist.

"Gale," she said, "have you seen my hairnet?" She stopped dead. Three Gales stood frozen in the act of jockeying over the proper angle for a support rod. All three took in her state of undress and her hair shining loose in the sun. Their expressions went soft and smitten at the exact same moment, which was both very sweet and faintly alarming. She took in the scene, her eyes moving over each of them before stopping, without difficulty or doubt, on the actual Gale. "Should I be concerned about this, my love?"

"No, no," he said. "My simulacrum spell went in an unexpected direction this morning, but once we are done with this project, I will take care of it." He tried to sound more confident than he felt.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friends?"

"I am Gale," the active one said, stepping smoothly forward, taking her hand, and bowing over it to press his lips to her knuckles.

"And I am Gale," said the intellectual one, offering a stiff, formal bow.

"That's not going to work," she said, shaking her head. She turned to the active one still before her and smoothly extricated her hand from his. "You," she said, "are Dale."

He smiled charmingly. "You may call me anything you like, my beauty."

"Wonderful. And you," she turned to the intellectual one, "are—" she paused, running through possibilities. "Gabe," she supplied.

"I am most certainly not!" He huffed indignantly.

"You are," said both Dale and Gale.

He scowled and grumbled but made no further protest.

Alyss turned back to Gale and drew him aside. The other two made no move to give them privacy. "I am going to the Temple of Good Cheer to give lessons and make my devotions. Will you be all right?" She glanced skeptically at Dale and Gabe.

"Going to the temple? By yourself?" Dale took a step closer. "Perhaps I should accompany you, just to be certain you arrive safely."

"She is perfectly safe going from here to the temple during daylight," Gale said shortly.

"Thank you for your concern, Dale," Alyss said. "But my bodyguard, Kenzo, will accompany me. Besides, I'm sure you're needed here. From what I heard as I came out, you've been providing invaluable feedback on this project." She flashed Gale a mischievous look.

"That's right!" Dale turned to survey the work in progress with renewed purpose. "If I leave, these two will assuredly undo all of my improvements. I will see to it that this project gets done in a manner worthy of you."

"Very good," said Alyss. "I look forward to seeing your progress." She turned back to Gale, and the two of them stepped a little further from the others.

"Since you are going to the temple," Gale said, with a slightly sheepish expression, "perhaps you could put in a word with Milil? I'm sure I can reverse the spell on my own, but a little divine aid wouldn't go amiss."

"The last thing I would do is let Milil catch wind of this," Alyss said. "He would find it endlessly amusing and would have no inclination whatsoever to end such a delightful situation." She gave Gale a pointed look. "Perhaps you should consider a prayer to Mystra instead. If there is anyone in all the realms who doesn't want more Gales in the world, it is she."

Gale let out a surprised laugh. "You are entirely right about that. Though I fear she might simply delete all of us and be done with it."

"She had better not. I would have something to say about that," Alyss replied, with a fierceness that was not entirely in jest.

"I do love you," Gale said, in the tone of a man who is perpetually slightly astonished by his good fortune. Some of Dale’s concern had wormed its way into his heart, for he asked: "Will you be home for supper? The Guild of Chandlers and Lamplighters is still on strike, so even with Kenzo, I’d prefer you not be out after dark."

"No need to worry, love, I will be home well before dark. Will we be having guests for supper?" She glanced at Dale and Gabe, both staring at them with a complete absence of shame.

"I would like to say no, but since my efforts to send them away have so far proved fruitless, let's prepare for the worst." A disgruntled sound came from Gabe's direction. "Simulacra don't eat, but I am depressingly certain they will want to be involved somehow."

"You will sort this out. You always do." Alyss reached up and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. "In the meantime, try not to kill each other. I would very much like to keep my favorite Gale in one piece by the end of the day."

He pulled her in close. "Your hairnet is in the second drawer of your vanity. Say hello to Kenzo for me. Oh, and when you return this evening, I'd suggest avoiding the rooftop for the time being. Enjoy your day, my love."

She leaned into him and kissed him deeply. His hands slipped beneath the open robe and drew her closer, and for a moment both of them forgot entirely that they had an audience with familiar faces and expressions of unguarded longing.

When Alyss finally pulled back, Gale tried not to look as though he was gloating, although he actually was, a little. She squeezed his hand, then turned to leave, and found herself face to face with Dale, his arms spread wide in naked optimism.

"No," said Alyss and Gale together.

Dale's face fell. As she glided past, Alyss paused to rest a hand briefly on his shoulder. "Be good," she told him. "I will be so disappointed if you make trouble. More than that, I am counting on you to make sure he behaves." She tilted her head toward Gabe, who stiffened at the periphery of the conversation, craning to make out what was being said.

Dale's hand went immediately to the shoulder she had touched. "I will not let you down, my beauty," he said, with great feeling. "You may count on me entirely."

With a final wink at Gale, she disappeared back into the tower, leaving the three of them to their own devices.

What's everyone indulging in today? Let me see 'em!