#tavqotd #dylanlore
D'ylân has two scars with stories that are worth remembering, for better or worse.
The small one on his lip is a souvenir from when he was a rowdy, angsty teen committing vandalism, and a hard punch split his lip and put him back on track.
Whether his facial mark
#dylanlore #tavqotd
Aesthetics was tough, as searching for 'soft cosy bdsm aesthetic' didn't yield the results I had hoped for 😩 But, a cosy, clean tent will also do 😁
Artwork of our OC Dylan Newman by my friend, blastedking.tumblr.com/ (or universelawoffire.com)
Template in the reply 👇
#tavqotd #bg3vp #dylanlore
D'ylân had caught glimpses of the Underdark before and wished his first long stay with strong companions had been under different circumstances.
He respects its dangers, but mostly, he's fascinated by its magical, often haunting, always inspiring beauty.
He'll return.
#dylanlore #bg3vp
D'ylân encountered many masters of various crafts during his travels, and they made him a better musician, person, or even lover.
A more recent one, during the tadpole journey, was Farra Anadia, who built him a better, stronger violin.
[Any similarities to real personalities are
#tavqotd #dylanlore
"Glutton."
"Mosquito."
D'ylân doesn't like sweets; he prefers savoury, salty, with strong or spicy herbs.
Fun fact: he was a scrawny kid before they found out he needed a protein-heavy diet, and that's what he likes. His fav is a simple roast, almost charcoal on the outside,
#tavqotd #dylanlore
D'ylân is 34, with fluctuating maturity. He doesn't care about his age or the expectations that come with it (especially in regard to his noble background, which he cares even less about).
Being with Astarion for a while, however, makes his age an uncomfortable topic post-game.
#Tavqotd #dylanlore
Do not let the bard cook! Not even if Durge endorses it. Especially not if Astarion endorses it (HE doesn't have to chew through almost raw meat with a charcoal crust).
D'ylân's culinary skill is slightly above "I'd rather starve" so Gale or Shadowheart take over his turn.
#TavQOTD #dylanlore
"Up for some company tonight?" with a grin and cheesy eyebrow wiggle.
Might be unusual for a bard and occasional sex worker, but D'ylân is blunt about intentions. It makes it easy for others to consent or reject him before anyone gets uncomfortable (or he gets incinerated).
#dylanlore
Haven't done this in a while. Plus, I like to talk about him, and it's even more fun when I know people don't mind me yapping about D'ylân van Newfolk, the Wandering Bard 🫠
(nsfw is welcome, but no nsfw rp please :'))
#tavqotd #sanguinesonata #dylanlore
D'ylân works as a wandering bard. He showed his talent for art and music early and received lessons since he was a small kid. He's a passionate composer and violin and piano player.
His enchanted violin is also his only means to control his arcane powers.
It's probably rude, bad form, and frowned upon to like something about your own stuff.
But I really do like seeing my sweet ice devil in action like this (after he was able to safely unlock more of his innate arcane powers later down the road) ❄️🎻
#dylanlore #bg3vp
#tavqotd #dylanlore
D'ylân's parents were 18 when they met at a farmer's market. His human mother Sydney was the only daughter of a rich noble family she despised. His tiefling father Sakul was a farmer's son. It was love at first sight. They eloped soon after and had him a couple of years later.
Camp at night, by the shore. The full moon is up and partly hidden by the clouds. Dylan is squatting dramatically next to the campfire. The silhouette of a ship appears in the green, sparkling fog behind him. Durge and Gale listen, amused. Astarion pulls a put-off grimace because of course he does.
AO3 Header Title: Of Fools, Bliss, and Curses on the High Sea 4 of 4 chapters Rated: Teens and Up Relevant tags: Story within a story, backstory, humour, implied sexual content Summary: "I have survived strangers who invited me to join their convoys and carnivals, I have bested the storms north of Neverwinter and made friends in the dark alleys of Athakla after nightfall, where others would find starvation and blades to their neck. A look in the mirror showed me a truth that even the gods couldn't deny; I was smart, gifted, and experienced in the ways of travelling. Clearly, nothing in the world could go wrong, and had I been half as grandiose as I thought of myself, I wouldn't have a story worth telling you." -- In hindsight, nobody could tell whose idea it was to take turns telling stories. After several wine and ale bottles made their rounds and blends of teas and smokes had been exchanged, it seemed like a pleasant way to push bedtime back and make those precious hours of peace and normalcy last. -- Eventually, it's D'ylân's turn to defend his reputation as a bard. His tale that finally answers the question some of the companions had been asking: Why was a mere bard who could barely tell a two-hander from a butterknife (as Astarion insists) wearing what looks like a real Amulet of Bhaal? If it was more than a worthless trinket, what would it take to make him part with it?
#sanguinesonata #bg3fic #dylanlore
𝕺𝖋 𝕱𝖔𝖔𝖑𝖘, 𝕭𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝕾𝖊𝖆
~13k words/complete
"You asked me for a story.
The thing about stories is, however, that their magic only unfolds if it's the one that is right for you, only tonight, at this shore."
archiveofourown.org/works/759442...
#bg3fanart #commissionedart #dylanlore
Thinking about it, I never posted this solo, did I? Unacceptable!
Look at this adorable artwork by @thehayhaylstorm.bsky.social! ❤️✨
D'ylân makes such a sweet Muppet (that might be as good, if not even better at cuddling), calling him one is a compliment!
#TavQOTD #dylanlore
D'ylân had to let go of his first real but unrequited love, Alchantro (short: Ace), the Wandering Bard who mentored him for 2 years. Ace left when D turned 18 and couldn't get over his crush. Since, one reason D kept travelling was to find Ace, apologise, and hope for a chance.
"By the time the port had disappeared behind us and the sea welcomed us with her wide, open arms, I could barely keep water down. As you can imagine, my joy over the adventure ahead found itself quite dampened, miserable as I was. So, I was lying on the deck. My legs were shaking too much to carry my eight, and the world wouldn't stop spinning when I tried to stand up. I was a miserable pile of shattered attitude and cold sweat on my face and staining my shirt. The sailors took pity on me between making jokes about the poor, unfortunate sod I was. While had only two things on my mind. First, what if this nausea with its cold shivers and iron grip around my stomach would never go away for the rest of my life? And secondly— why? This didn't make any sense. I've been on ships before, in bad weather even, and loved every moment. And yet, the sun hadn't even set, the sea was quiet and calm, and I was sicker than I ever was before."
#dylanlore #bg3vp #bg3fic
Here we see a 21-year-old D'ylân who
- thought it would be a great idea for a young bard to work his passage on a cargo ship
- was unpleasantly surprised when he got very, very seasick
He threw his hands over his head, wincing, when a shadow fell over him from above. Glancing up from the corner of his eye, there was a raven that seemed to have come out of nowhere. He shot down from the sky, caught himself before he hit the ground, twisted around mid-air, and, wings spread widely, landed gently on his feet. "Looks like we got some visitor." The bird had caught Shadowheart's attention. She and D'ylân, with Scratch on their heels, came closer to inspect the curious animal. "I suppose," Lae'zel hissed, "There's yet another ridiculous custom of your people that forbids turning prey into a meal if it's brazen enough." She had ignored everyone until the bird's arrival. Hand still around the hilt of her sword, she joined the circle. "Brazen, and close to a druid grove, from where we've been expecting a message for days," D'ylân explained politely. Astarion smirked. Even that oversized bag of bad jokes and quips rather didn't mess with the gith warrior. "You speak sense." Satisfied with the answer, Lae'zel's pose relaxed, but she still didn't put away her blade. Seemingly enjoying the attention his arrival stirred, the raven stretched his wings and preened the long feathers with his strong beak, looking his best and yet unbothered. Intelligent black eyes watched the group that gathered around him, as if searching for one specific face that he wished to talk to. Anyone else wouldn't get a sound out of him.
#dylanlore #sanguinesonata
May the birb never learn how close he was to becoming an, ahem, very special dinner guest.
tags I forgot, as usual: #bg3vp #dylanlore
"I must have babbled and stuttered so pathetically that Finus felt bad for mocking me," D'ylân continued. "He patted my hand and said, 'You know, kid, I'd rather have ye lying to me than telling the truth. You're young, having a big mouth and falling flat on it is how you grow up. A kick to the pride is better than a kick in the nuts from Umberlee. You ain't no habour scamp, my old eyes know when they see one, nor are you a sailor. What could you have done to piss off the Bitch Queen?' Of course, I was familiar with the legends and tales of horrors surrounding the Queen of the Depths, and you can believe me when I say that when he told me this, I wished I had been lying.
#bg3fic #dylanlore
Unusual for me to write something from an I-narrator's POV, but who am I to deny my bard an opportunity to tell a story?
#TavQOTD #dylanlore Facts about your Tav/Durge, and a quote!
⏳ 34 yrs
🎂 Born in Baldur's Gate
😾 Real cats dislike him bc he talks to them like they were dogs
💔 Immune to charm/enthrall
⚓Once worked as a seaman for a day, then he got seasick
"Seems like all I played today was Death for a fool."
🎻 𝓖𝓤𝓘𝓓𝓔𝓟𝓞𝓢𝓣 🦇
Ship Tag >> #sanguinesonata
More about D'ylân, the Wandering Bard >> #Dylanlore
Their canon love story (incomplete) >> archiveofourown.org/series/4693171
All my BG3 fics >> archiveofourown.org/users/Ligeia...
Snippets and VP (those I don't forget to tag) >> #bg3fic #bg3vp
Yahoo Entertainment Bob Dylan has accepted an honorary Doctor of Music degree from the Berklee College of Music, marking the first time he's received such an honor from an American college or university since 1970. "Thank you, Berklee College of Music, for bestowing on me this prestigious honor. What a pleasant surprise," Dylan says in a statement. "Who knows what path my career might have taken if I'd been fortunate enough to learn from some of the great musicians who taught at Berklee. It's something to think about."
Did the locusts sing off in the distance, though?
#BobDylan
#DylanLore
#DylanEsoterica
#dylanlore
Ask me about "D'ylân, the fun-loving, smooth-talking, street-smart wandering bard for hire. I tell the stories of many and summon the elements' powers with my songs." (as he'd introduce himself).
Lore, meta, sfw, nsfw, serious, silly, fun, anything (except for rp prompts (sorry)) goes!
A street of Athkatla, on a cold, snowy evening. Madame Grisette, a half-orc with long, copper-red hair and dressed in a fancy purple-and-red dress. walks past a young Dylan, 18 years old at that time. He sits on a rug, wearing a white and brown tunic with elbow-length sleeves and normal leather pants, and no other protection from the weather. Next to him, leaning on a wall, is an old mattress and his backpack. By his feet stands a small bowl with faintly glowing embers. The image is rather dark before any added lights and some sloppy editing by an amateur (me). She's almost obscured, especially her lower half, as the dark purple of the dress blends in with the black of the background. It's also all rather blurry and the bit of light that is there gives the few parts it lights up a yellowish, too-warm tint for a snowy night scene.
same image. Not great, but a lot better I'd say. Light was added to show a bit more of the background, giving the whole thing some depth. It also changed the tint to a blueish, colder hue. The characters are much more visible, as is her dress and its colours and patterns. The small 'fire' in the firebowl now emits a faint, orange glow. To be honest, it's not even a fire. The real fire was way too bright. It's an Elixir of Hill Giant Strength that glows orange by default, turned around and repositioned. It almost looks like embers, though, if you squint very hard or don't pay too much attention to this detail. I'm not 100% happy with how this turned out, I wish it were crisper and a tad brighter. My mistake, though. I took this as the final image on my right monitor and closed the game, without checking the picture on my second monitor that is a bit darker with more contrast, which also seems to be closer to how pics look on a phone screen when dark mode is used. Well, live and learn, I suppose. Remember, this is the first time I'm doing anything that can be called visual art. I'm trying, I swear, but it's a lot of trial and error. And if anyone can skip some of my mistakes by reading this, the better.
18-year-old D'ylân, on his first winter alone on the road as a wandering bard, meets his new boss.
Before any lights and edits, and after.
#bg3vp #dylanlore
Madame Grisette is a half-orc with mossy green skin and opal eyes. Her hair is a bit darker than copper red, but looks more copper, more auburn depending on the light. It's her natural hair colour. She wears it long and tied back, and a straight fringe covering her forehead. She wears thick, dark red makeup around her rise and glossy, soft-orange lipstick that doesn't clash with her hair. She wears a fancy, tight dress in dark purple with a fuchsia corset and decorative golden chains and purple ribbons around the arms. It has a very low-cut decoltée, making the whole dress look sexy as well as luxurious. She looks at the camera with a friendly smile and a hand casually on her hip. fun fact for alt-text readers: her style and hair are actually inspired a lot by my favourite aunt, who I used to think was the most beautiful woman in the world when I was little, with her copper hair (dyed, though), dramatic makeup, and a general 70s-actress vibe.
#dylanlore
Madame Grisette
birthname: Nibas Gamash
Formerly Wizard of Hillsfar
Formerly Monsieur Grisque
Age: unknown
Owner of the "Le Désir Qui Danse", a reputable bondage fetish night club.
Her club has been her passion for at least 300 years and she's known as a generous, supportive employer.
It still nags on me that I accidentally uploaded the under-edited version of an image yesterday.
To compensate, I'll over-indulge and upload all four, only slightly varied pics of D'ylân acting dramatic in front of a pork roast, now with reduced hair and horn clipping >:I
#dylanlore #bg3photomode
#TavQOTD #NSFW #dylanlore
A human guy, one of the few peers D'ylân's age who were willing to let the only tiefling in the neighbourhood join their friend group. They were young, and what they thought to be first love was built on teenage hormones and curiosity. It was okay and fun for what it was.
