Feyran Lavellan
@feyranlavellan.bsky.social
230 followers 250 following 4.4K posts
I didn't ask to be here. But it seems no one else is willing to step up. ((#DragonAgeRP and #BG3RP account mainly, but I do other verses too 21+ only, multiship friendly, dark themes, ns/fw))
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"If you can't pay in coin, consider yourself indebted."
Baldur's Gate 3 -
Feyran, half-elf Rogue (Assassin)
Neutral Evil
#BG3RP
>> attention and concern is fixated on Astarion, on soothing the spawn, so there's no risk of them questioning Feyran's little comment.

The rest might suspect. But it's Tav that Feyran is the most concerned with keeping oblivious. They're the one that everyone follows, after all.
>> soot marks from his gloves, as though he's only commenting idly. "A devil is often quite busy, you know. Many pacts to seal, secret deals in the dark to make...you're quite lucky he's making time for you."

The briefest glance up to make eye contact with Raphael, for just a moment - while Tav's >
>> though this is an unexpected request that he must move his schedule about for. Such a natural way to whet his prey's appetite and desperation for his return.

Feyran's eyes glimmer with appreciation for the art.

"Yes, Astarion. Good things come to those who wait." Feyran pipes up, rubbing some >
>> sigh, and an impatient /"When?"/

"Don't /worry/, I'm *motivated* to help you. Scars often tell such wonderful stories - I think yours might be truly exquisite. I'll see you soon." Raphael's voice is such a reassuring purr.

Hells, does he sell it well - from pretending to care to acting as >>
>> He was forced to acknowledge that he may be too big of an upset, to successfully catch the devil's interest. Raphael's eyes were clearly set on Tav, Feyran was little more than an afterthought.

But he could lose nothing by asking.

"You'll 'get back to me'?! This is important, devil!" A sharp >>
>> into it willing?

Eagerness was distasteful for this particular fiend, however. So Feyran had bidden his time, and doesn't plan to make it easy. Just because he plans to lose the game doesn't mean he's going to fold.

Was there room for someone like him, in such a meticulous scheme however? >>
>> Feyran hope.

Hah...he can't help but give a wry smile at the thought as he watches Raphael smoothly negotiate with Tav and Astarion, folding his arms and staying to the back of the group. Wasn't that just the devil's /modus operandi/...using hope as bait.

But was it a trap if Feyran walked >>
>> thinking they're dancing to their own tune but dumbly falling down the path their archdevil masters wish them to tread. Unable to think much further than their next scheme.

Raphael was different. Every step of this game had been plotted decades, if not centuries in advance. Maybe more.

It gave>
>> crucial and conveniently located in this cursed place that would coincide wonderfully with Astarion's request.

Feyran has spoken with many devils, especially in the last five years or so. All of them can boast with confidence, but plenty have no clue what they're doing. A puppet's puppet, >>
>> for Astarion's scars.

Which, Feyran knew the devil would have. He had probably been waiting to be asked since the moment they'd met. But one thing at a time - and it wasn't a coincidence that he'd happened to show up at Last Light just when Astarion decided to ask.

There was something very >>
@hasitslaws.bsky.social

Astarion was practically chomping at the bit the moment the devil was spotted at Last Light Inn.

The spawn and Tav nearly knocked over the lanceboard table, in their eagerness to speak with Raphael. They humored the devil's game, but their fixation was on getting answers >
[BG3]

A piercing stare at the goblins cowering in Moonrise - he waits to see how Tav will choose to deal with them, as they continue to play pretend to the Absolute.
"Hello to you too."

He puts the sharpening stone away and flips his dagger around in his hand, cocking his head at her.

"You don't seem like the sort of person who asks other people to do her killing. So consider my curiosity piqued."
[dodges, making sure to not let the thing touch him]

I do hope you are handling that with *gloves*.
Go for it, your Majesty. You have the Inquisitor's full approval.
"Ah, yes. Before you barricade yourself in there, mother - my friend here has some small tokens she wanted to give. Perhaps you could bring yourself out of your flustered post-sex haze with my father that you hate oh-so-much and actually allow her to introduce herself?"
Feyran gives a mock gasp of surprise as he struts in, his mother sulking off to the kitchen as her son puts a hand over his chest.

"Why, mother, what is this 'rat-tongued noble bastard' from Ishgard doing here, in /our/ sitting room? Is this villain visiting some sort of harm upon us?"
He lifts his eyebrows in surprise.
"What, did you tell your father figure about me?"
He chuffs and shakes his head, smirking and just holding a finger to his lips briefly.

"Which window do you want broken in, then? You can only defend so many at once."
>> rap against the front door.

/"Hungry."/ He calls out.
>> would seem.

Feyran squints through a gap in the curtains through the window, and then abruptly snorts, any and all tension in his body immediately dropping away. "Ah."

He just looks amused as he returns to the 'main' path to the front door. "Well this should be funny."

His leather knuckles >>
She can't see what it was he saw on the ground that made him suddenly go on high alert, but by observing where he steps (or more accurately, where he deliberately doesn't) she can see the vague outline of thin wires, well hidden metal teeth...

The exterior of this hut is well defended by traps, it>
>> spot on the ground before he skitters forward, still stepping very particularly, though his footsteps become more erratic and less straightforward the closer he gets to the cabin.

He eschews the front door and starts creeping around the edges of the house, peering in windows.

[roll perception]
"The way towards and in is the only danger here. I'm not going to give you hints on things to say or do for her. I'd rather she take an accurate measure of you. I'm curious-"

He suddenly halts as they come within sight of a typical hunter's cabin. Briefly he crouches, fingers barely touching a >>