#WYLL DESERVES TO BE FREE OF HIS PACT

[nichedragon]

Over the last couple days I kept picking the WRONG options for my bg3 playthrough and having to go back several hours in save files to fix it.

it is my first full playthrough and I will NOT live with the consequences of my actions!

ESPECIALLY WHEN ONE OF SAID CONSEQUENCES IS GETTING DUMPED BY WYLL

turns out, opting not to save his dad with mizora's help and then going to the iron throne is A Bad Idea.

she's all "THE AGREEMENT THE CONTRACT" and i'm liek "WE NEVER AGREED THAT WE WERE GONNA JUST KILL HIM WE AGREED YOU WOULDN'T HELP the fact that i GOT here on my own was a genuine happy accident FUCK YOU

#bg3 #i didn't have a save file far enough back to change the option i picked with mizora tho #so i just kinda let all those npcs die #and then killed their families in the sentry place #....this is my red flag #WYLL DESERVES TO BE FREE OF HIS PACT #but letting like 2 dozen npcs die for it was a moral failing on my part maybe #and then on the flip of that i freed the vamp spawn at the end of astarions thing #because what is the point of killing them if i wasn't gonna ascend him #after having made the arguement that killing all those innocents would be not cool #lost my paladin oath for that one #morality in baldurs gate 3 is weird sometimes honestly #wyll ravengard

[eff-plays]

You know what made me really like Wyll? Like put him from "oh he seems nice" to "oh actually he's great?"

He's not sorry about making the pact. Like? Usually when a character does a deal with a devil they're like "Did I do what I had to ... or was I just weak? Should I have done something else? I should have tried harder, been better!"

He's like, no. Fuck that. I know for a fact I did the right thing, and I'd fucking do it again! And yet, you still need to encourage him to break free from Mizora. He doesn't take the initiative, you need to finesse that shit yourself.

He's somehow both meek enough in this pact that he won't even fight against it, but also confident enough that he did the right thing that he doesn't regret it. And it's a really interesting combo, to me, but it makes sense? He's done the right thing, and because he thinks it was the only correct option, every consequence is thus justified in his mind. Yes, he did what he had to, and now he must pay the price he "chose" to pay.

And it ties back to his relationship with his father, because yeah, he's grown up prepared for responsibility, but never felt like he was owed authority. So he will bear the burden, but never expect to reap the rewards. He understands why he was cast out, despite it being a massively cruel thing to do to a kid. Because yeah, of course his dad didn't want to associate with a warlock serving a devil, duh! EXCEPT THAT'S YOUR DAD!! THAT'S YOUR FATHER, WYLL!! HE SHOULD'VE TRUSTED YOU AND CHOSEN YOU OVER HIS POSITION BECAUSE YOU'RE HIS SON!!

It's fucked! It's fucked up! I wanna shake him and be like NO!! YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS!! YOU NEVER DESERVED THIS!!! DEMAND BETTER FOR YOURSELF RIGHT FUCKING NOW OR SO HELP ME!!! AUGH!!

God he's just a little guy fr 🥺

#whatever man ... i'm insane #bg3 #wyll ravengard #baldur's gate 3 #also i'm not saying he did the wrong thing by serving mizora or that he was stupid or anything #he 100% did what he had to #BUT it's the way he reacts to it later is what's interesting to me

[sky-scribbles]

All right, BG3 gang, let me tell you about the incredible, accidental drama that happened when I went to save everyone in the iron Throne.

I messed up my first two attempts spectacularly, so when I reloaded for my third try, I was resolved. I was going to stick with the results of this run, no matter what. The countdown starts; Karlach runs off to grab the Gondians, my Tav Wildshapes and goes sprinting away to save Omeluum, and Gale Dimension Doors himself and Wyll right to Ulder.

As the boys take Ulder back up the corridor, Mizora appears with her exploding spiders. Gale drops a Globe of Invulnerability over Ulder, and runs off to save the last few Gondians while Wyll starts mopping up spiders. ‘This is great!’ I say to myself.

Then the last spiders run into the Globe of Invulnerability. They can’t hurt Ulder, but Wyll can’t hurt them, and if Ulder leaves the globe, they can explode him.

‘This is not great,’ I say, as Wyll spends several rounds shoving spiders out of the globe so he can kill them.

I finally kill the spiders. Wyll and Ulder sprint for the exit. It’s the final round, everybody else is safe, if they can just make it to the ladder –

They are ten feet of movement short. Everyone who could possibly help has already taken their turn in initiative – except for Omeluum.

Omeluum can teleport itself and one other person to the submersible.

And I realise what I’m going to have to do. Mechanically, the choice is clear: Withers can resurrect Wyll, but not Ulder. And from an in-universe perspective, the choice is even more obvious. Even in a world where, as in my game, Wyll has broken his pact. Even when he’s resigned himself to losing his father. Even when he signed Ulder’s life away in the hope of being free. There’s no question what he’d do in that moment, is there? When the choice is Wyll lives, but his father definitely dies or Wyll maybe dies, but his father definitely lives – with a second left to choose –

Wyll would shove his father to Omeluum and say, ‘Go.’

Omeluum teleports Ulder to safety. The submersible leaves, the facility comes crashing down, and Wyll is gone. To save his father.

And you know what absolutely destroyed me? Because the dev team can't possibly think of everything, especially this extremely specific and devastating scenario I've just landed myself in... there's no change in the dialogue with Ulder once I resurrect Wyll. He still tells Wyll he’s ashamed to have his blood run in his veins. He still accuses Wyll, who just traded his life to save him, of running off to chase a devil and her power.

I cannot even begin to describe how devastating that was to watch. Because it made me think – would Ulder change his tune in that scenario? I don’t know if he would. Oh, he’d be shaken, for certain, as he watches Tav and the gang sobbing, banging on the submersible hatch. As the tadpole’s grip loosens, the awful realisation would sink in – my son, my son – but how long before he tries to shield himself from that pain? How long before he says to himself – even says out loud, to Wyll’s grieving, furious friends, he was not my son, not anymore – I saw his face, and it was the face of a devil –

And even after he knows the truth, and Wyll is back, what then? Wyll still drowned in fire and iron and water to save his father’s life, and Ulder still said, he was a devil, as if that made Wyll deserve it – and he can never, ever take that back.

(In sleepless moments, Wyll wonders: would he?)

#bg3 #wyll ravengard #ulder ravengard #don't you love it when the dice give you drama #bg3 spoilers #i very much headcanon that the tadfools yelled the whole story to ulder as they travelled back #a very awkward sub ride for the gondians and omeluum #sky plays bg3

[stars-and-inkpots]

could you possibly do one where Tav is on the verge on burnout in Baldur's Gate, from carrying the litteral weight of the world on her shoulders, plus the murders, dismembered clown, emperor chattering away in her mind and just tryingto help every soul in the city... oh, and everyone looking to her for guidance in making difficult life decisions... possibly after advising Wyll not to take the pact and/or one of their companions being abducted

And Gale being there to help her and lift her spirits up (maybe a little guilty about being too wrapped up in his hubris before having a forgiving audience with Mystra to notice how hard it all was on her)

I loved this idea so much because Act 3 really is just so overwhelming and stressful I was excited to write something about it! Thank you!! I hope you enjoy!

The Weight of The World | Gale x Reader

There is so much you have to do. So many things you have to fix and people you have to save. It's starting to become overwhelming carrying so much alone.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Blood and injury, panic attacks (kinda), hurt/comfort, comfort, angst, cuddling, spoilers for Act 3

Ao3 Link: The Weight of The World

Word Count: 1,799

You like helping people. If there is a way you can make someone else’s life easier, you are both eager and happy to do it. It’s in your nature to give. 

But you’re wearing yourself thin. 

It seems that ever since you got off that nautiloid, you’ve been helping people. First, it was the tieflings in the Grove; then the Shadow-Cursed lands; then the refugees on the way to Baldur’s Gate. And along with all of those problems, you’ve also been helping your companions with their own; some with higher stakes than others. 

Wyll is quiet today, and when you notice the look on his face, guilt quickly settles in beside the exhaustion that rests on your shoulders. 

He is free now, but it has come at such a steep price. You were there with him when Mizora appeared to offer him the deal. He had asked you for advice. You told him that he deserved a chance to be free from the infernal chess board he had been forced to play on for so long. 

But what if you were wrong? What if you don’t find a way to save his father? What if Baldur’s Gate is worse off without the duke once everything is done and over with and the dust has settled. What if Wyll ends up blaming you for the death of Ravengard, resenting your decision that was his own to make. 

You’re happy to help… happy to give counsel to your companions when they (so often, it seems) need it, but why should you be the one making the decisions for such things? How can you be expected to decide between Wyll’s freedom and his father’s life? 

You haven’t even begun to prepare for what could lie beyond the walls of Cazador’s palace, but you’re certain it can be nothing short of dreadful. 

Shaking your head, you try to focus on the task at hand. You have potential murder victims you need to find. 

More people that need saving. 

---

Finding the Stormshore Tabernacle after Elminster arrived to tell Gale that Mystra had yet another message for him was only another goal added on the growing list of things you needed to do. This, of course, took a little priority, given how much you could tell it mattered to Gale. 

You brush off the growing exhaustion that hasn’t had a chance to fully dissipate in the wake of so many new problems. 

You stand in front of the statue of Mystra, Gale beside you while the others wait outside. You can feel the magic that flows around it, crackling and humming like an electric current. It is not a feeling that brings you comfort or a sense of calm that one might expect from a god; perhaps that is mainly because of your own opinions of the goddess though. While he does a good job at hiding it, you can tell that Gale’s nerves are beginning to get the better of him. You bring your hand to rest it on his shoulder. 

“Time was I’d have given my right arm for a chance to speak with Mystra again. The left one too. Maybe a knee…” he says quietly, and as much as you want to believe he is exaggerating, you know there is an air of truth to his words. 

“You know you don’t owe her anything, Gale.” You hope he knows that. It’s impossible for you to understand the nuances of their relationship, and you recognise that, but you know that what she had asked of him was cruel and manipulative. 

“Perhaps,” he answers. Then adds, “Her first love was always the weave. At best, I was always a close second.” 

You can’t tell if he’s trying to justify Her actions to you, or simply giving himself a reason for them that hurts less than the idea that she did not truly care for him like he did for Her. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Despite your personal distaste for the goddess, you would accompany him in an instant if it was what he desired.

“As much as I’d prefer not to face her alone, I’m afraid the magic is only able to bring one person through. I’ll only be gone a minute though. Wait for me, please.” His voice shakes only slightly. You would wait for him even if he didn’t ask. 

When he turns to face the statue again, he moves his hand like he’s grasping at something in the air. Then just as quickly, he is gone. 

You wait there anxiously. You wonder if you should have told him not to come here. It was entirely possible that Mystra only asked him to come here so that she could punish him for not following her orders to blow up both himself and the Absolute. It would be another lapse of judgement that would impact only your companion. 

The stress of the week is steadily catching up to you again, pushing itself into the forefront of your mind while you wait for Gale to return. Thankfully, he doesn’t take long. 

Gale reappears in a small flash of shimmering purples. He is smiling, which you assume is a good thing in spite of the general unease the thought of him speaking with the goddess brings. 

He recounts the visit with you while the two of you find the rest of your party outside. 

---

No one says anything when you go straight to your tent after you return to camp, Gale letting go of your hand to give you a moment to yourself. 

Lae’zel is gone, taken by Orin, and being held ransom in the Temple of Bhaal. The memory of the encounter makes you sick to your stomach. 

Lae’zel rounding the corner, bloodied and limping, clutching her side while blood pours out in thick rivulets. Your heart beating so fast that you worry it will stop entirely. Grasping her arm to pull her with you, refusing to leave her behind. The feeling of her flesh shifting under your palm, moving, undulating in that unnatural and revolting way you had come to recognize in the shapechangers you had encountered. You recoiled backwards into Gale, watching in horror as Lae’zel’s form shifted; her neck snapping to the side sharply. Her green skin fading to pale grey. It was never Lae’zel at all, but Orin. 

She cornered you into making a deal with her. You were to return with Gortash’s netherstone, or Lae’zel would be left to bleed out on the temple floor. 

You can imagine Lae’zel’s voice, condemning you for giving in to the Bhaalspawn’s orders. But you know Lae’zel. You know that she is not as unshakeable as she likes to present herself. You know that, wherever she is right now, she is scared. 

You can barely think. Everything feels blurry, the world fraying at the edges of your vision dissolving into a mess of colour and sound. 

You should have noticed. Gortash had warned you. 

You still have so much you need to do. 

How did you let this happen? 

---

Gale waits a few minutes before he follows you to your tent. He waits nervously outside, unsure. 

“Can I come in?” He asks softly. 

“Please,” you answer, and his heart breaks at the roughness of your voice; no doubt from crying and struggling to keep the sobs quiet enough that the rest of the camp wouldn’t hear them. 

Your eyes are tired, fresh tears still flowing freely down your face. 

Gale is terrified too, just like you and so many of the others, but something else weighs heavy on his chest. Guilt, he quickly realises as he looks at you. 

You’ve been dealing with so much, and so much of it alone. You’ve taken their problems and made them your own; you’ve done everything for them. You’ve bore their worries, their concerns, and their mistakes. You’ve had no one to do the same for you. 

“Gale-” you start, but a sob bubbles out of you cutting you off as your shoulders shake. 

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispers into your hair after he quickly gathers you into his arms as he sits beside you. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you like he’s protecting you from the world itself. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologise through hiccups against his chest. He only gently shushes you, carding his fingers through your hair. 

“If there is any apologising to be done, it is us to you. You’ve been doing so much for us; carrying our burdens and helping with them. I will admit even I have been far too preoccupied with my own mess that I failed to consider the weight that we’ve put on you.” 

“I should be able to bear it,” you say mournfully. 

“Absolutely not,” Gale objects. “It’s impossible to do that alone. You are only one person. You are not weak because you failed to carry the weight of the world alone.” He sounds so certain, so genuine in everything he says that you know he isn’t merely saying this to comfort you. “Even if you struggled with even the simplest problem, it would be no slight on your abilities.” His words, as reassuring and comforting as they are, bring on yet another wave of tears. He rubs his hands soothingly along your back. 

“You are not weak because of this,” Gale assures you once you’ve mostly stopped crying. 

“Thank you,” you answer after a while. “Thank you.” 

The two of you sit there together. The steady rise and fall of his chest while you lean against him helps calm your racing heart. Gale hums softly, and you relax in his arms. 

“Everything is going to be alright. We’ll do this together,” Gale says, with a finality that leaves no room for disagreement. 

You nod, too exhausted in both body and mind to bother with speech for now. You reach blindly for one of Gale’s hands, holding it tightly and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. You feel him return a kiss of his own to the top of your head. You don’t need to use your words to explain your gratitude for his presence in your life. He understands you all the same. Your love may go unspoken, but never unheard. 

You let yourself relax. The weight of the world may be both figuratively and literally on your shoulders, but your companions can help you hold it. 

Yes, you think to yourself as Gale moves you both to lay down on the bedroll, everything will be alright. It will be difficult, but you will be fine. And at least, in his arms, you can pretend that everything will be fine for now. You have to hold onto the hope that everything will be fine.

#gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate x reader #x reader fic #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate gale #gale x you

[astarionancuninslittlelove]

BG3 Companions as The Tortured Poets Department Songs:

Wyll•Gale•Astarion•Karlach•Lae’zel•

Shadowheart Headcanon

Wyll 🗡️: "Fresh Out the Slammer"

"Years of labor, locks, and ceilings/

In the shade of how he was feeling/

But it's gonna be alright./

I did my time.

Now pretty baby I'm runnin back home to you"

I am not sure why this just reminds me of Wyll getting out of Mizora's pact and out from under the disapproving eyes of his father and being free. From there, he is free to do as he pleases. Also, I think Wyll to be a certified lover boy, so once he is free of all of this, he is free to really get into it with Tav.

Gale 🔮: "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived"

"And I don't even want you back/

I just want to know/

If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal/

And I don't miss what we had/

But could someone give/

A message to the smallest man who ever lived"

~

"And you'll confess why you did it/

And I'll say, "Good riddance"/

Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden/

I would've died for your sins/

Instead I just died inside/

And you deserve prison,/

But you won't get time."

Immediately reminded me of Gale and Mystra. The whole time, Gale didn't know that what she was doing was so wrong, and once he came to that realization after she essentially cast him out to die, he realized. As the loyal king that he is, I really believe he would have done anything for her. And Mystra, when I find you Mystra...you do deserve prison!!!!

Astarion 🦇: "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)"

"They shake their heads/

Saying, "God help her," when I/

Tell 'em he's my man/

But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger

I can fix him/

No, really I can.

This reminded me more of Tav x Astarion's relationship rather than Astarion himself. In the beginning when you pair up with Astarion, it is almost like the air is thick with some sort of confusion or disapproval with the companions at camp (not confirmed, just vibes) because (good aligned) Tav and Astarion is such an unlikely pair. They eventually learn to love it.

Karlach 🔥: "Florida!!!"

"And my friends all smell like weed or little babies/

And the city reeks of driving myself crazy"

~

"Your home's really a town/

You're just a guest in"

The first part reminded me of how after Gortash's death, Karlach has dialogue with Tav about how they get to go about living their lives meanwhile she has a death sentence. The second part reminds me of how much she loves Baldur's Gate, but she cannot be there as much as she would want to--She must return to Avernus otherwise her heart will go into overdrive. Also in the epilogue she mentions to Tav how she is going to come back to Baldur's Gate eventually; she PROMISES in fact. She is going to find a way.

Lae'zel ⚔️: "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?"

"I just want to snarl and show you/

Just how disturbed this has made me/

You wouldn't last an hour/

In the asylum where they raised me"

~

"I was tame, I was gentle/

Til the circus life made me mean/

Don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth"

This song got me thinking about how her entire upbringing, she was told to worship Vlaakith and how she would do anything in her name. Upon finding out of Vlaakith's ulterior motives, she is stripped of everything that she knew her entire life.

Shadowheart 🖤: "I Hate It Here"

"You see I was a debutant in another life but/

Now I seem to be scared to go outside/

If comfort is a construct/

I don't believe in good luck/

Now that I know what's what.

~

"I hate it here so I will go to/

Secret gardens in my mind/

People need a key to get to/

The only one is mine/

I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child/

No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears/

I'm there most of the year/

Cause I hate it here"

I had a harder time finding a song that fit her, but this one stuck out the most because there are parts of her that she doesn't remember, and throughout the beginning of the game, she is incredibly secretive as a self-preservation tactic.

#bg3 headcanons #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #karlach cliffgate #shadowheart #lae'zel #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #headcanon #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #bg3 x taylor swift #mine

[kittenintheden]

Wyllstravaganza Day 1: Perception

LET'S GO THIS BOY DESERVES POETRY LET'S GIVE IT TO HIM. I'm going to be participating in Wyllstravaganza this month in whatever way my tired ass can manage, which probably means I'll be selecting specific prompts and/or doing some shorter drabbles. FEEL FREE TO LEAVE YOUR WYLL DRABBLE REQUESTS IN MY ASKS!!! Especially if there's a specific prompt from the prompt list you'd like to see!

The blade is heavy in his hand. It has never felt so heavy.

She stands before him like ruby fire and fury and he knows what he must do. He always knows what to do.

Protect the Coast. Protect the meek. Protect the people. It is all he has ever been good for, since even before the bloody horror-strewn night when an errant claw left him with one less window to the world.

This devil is a danger. They all are.

Yet his hand will not obey.

The terms were clear, were they not? Infernal contracts are many things, but they cannot require anything unwritten. Devils only, she'd said. The cambion with the smile like knives, the one who keeps him like a dog on a leash.

One more kill and he'll be free. Free to...

Free to what? He can't go back. Even free of his pact, his tongue will remain stuck to the roof of his mouth should he ever try to explain. To tell the man who sired him and raised him at a distance that it was only for the Gate, always for the Gate. Just as he'd been raised.

He squeezes the hilt of the rapier and readies a strike.

And then a vision of pain, of grief, of fire and fighting and so much wounded rage. A hollow chest. A burning cry.

When he blinks back to himself, he's unsure if the rage came from her... or from him. No. No, it can't be his. It's a lie.

He says as much. He will end this. He is ready. He is so, so beyond ready to rest.

But there's a gentle hand on his arm. Pleading eyes, asking him to listen. Really listen. They all saw it too, his new companions.

You know, they say. You know the truth.

He looks to the devil and sees a tiefling instead. A lost soul. Someone to save.

Slowly, he lowers his blade.

The rage still burns, somehow.

#wyllstravaganza #wyllstravaganza2024 #wyll ravengard #wyll bg3 #karlach bg3 #this is only very loosely tied to the prompt but #oh well we ball #kitten writes

[pengychan]

[Baldur's Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 1

Illustration by @raphaels-little-beast

Title: Hell to Pay Summary: Assassinating an archdevil is a daunting task, even for the heroes of Baldur's Gate. Some inside help from 'the devil they know' would be good, if not for the detail their last meeting ended with said devil dead in his own home. Or did it? Characters: Raphael, the Dark Urge, Astarion, Haarlep, Halsin, Karlach, Wyll. Rating: M Status: In progress

All chapters will be tagged as ‘hell to pay’ on my blog. Also on Ao3.

Do I want to see Karlach free at last? Yes. Do I want Wyll to be free from his pact? Also yes. But do I want to put Raphael through Some Shit? Absolutely. That's it, really, that's my recipe here.

***

Much like Hell itself, Raphael had rules and principles. Although he had long since memorized all of them, he still had them all carefully written down in a book he always kept at hand. They added up to precisely six-hundred and sixty-six paragraphs; some may find it a bit on the nose, but he always thought it fitting. It kept to the hellish theme, and he always found having a theme to be extremely important. Almost as important as keeping to the rules of the game. 

And the first rule of that game was written large enough to take up the entire page, in red ink, underlined several times for good measure. 

DO NOT LET MEPHISTOPHELES CATCH YOU.

But archdevil Mephistopheles had him, and was not letting go. How he got to him was a question he could not answer; last thing Raphael recalled was being felled in his own home by those treacherous, double-crossing vermin, wielding the hammer he’d taken such pains to craft and which he’d offered them at a more than fair price. He’d blacked out, felt his life slipping away… and then he’d opened his eyes again in the grip of Mephistopheles, who was none too pleased to see him.

“Did you think I would not see? Did you think I would not know what you were trying to do?”

The voice came from around him, within him, everywhere, the rumbling of a volcano and the howling of the icy winds of Cania. Dangling helplessly from the archdevil’s grip, blood blinding him and choking him and dripping from more wounds to count, Raphael had a distinct feeling he wouldn't recover from that slip up. But he could yet try, he had to: this was not supposed to be his final act. So he coughed up the blood clogging his throat, and tried to speak. His voice came out hoarser than he’d have liked, but it would have to do. 

“My liege Lor--”

The grip around his leg tightened, and words turned into a wordless scream as broken shards of bone shrieked against one another. Raphael convulsed, choking and screaming, wings beating uselessly - or trying to, with one wing barely hanging onto his body through scraps of muscle. Then Mephistopheles reached up, and tore it off entirely himself. Steaming blood rushed forth, and Raphael screamed again. 

“My Lord--” he managed, but more steaming blood was filling his mouth, and he could only cough, shattered ribs turning his coughs into a symphony of pain. 

“Your liege lord, yes. Yet you’d try to take the Crown for yourself, and use it against me.”

“I would have-- gifted it to you--”

A roar, and Raphael knew the lie had been a mistake.

“You think you can lie to me? To the father of lies?”

The grip around his mangled leg was gone and he fell, down toward Mephistopheles' maw, towards teeth as long as his arm and made to crush, to annihilate. He tried to slow his fall, to teleport somewhere else - anywhere else - but his powers eluded him, and the only thing to stop his fall was Mephistopheles himself. With a laugh, he caught him with a hand around the waist mere inches from his teeth. He clenched his fist, snapping his spine and crushing something that may have been vital, once, when it was working. Raphael could barely let out a strangled noise.

“I will devour you, and you deserve nothing less. But I will not make it this quick, for your treachery and for the shame you brought to my court. My blood, bested by mortals!”

Raphael instinctively grasped the hand clenched around him; his claws wouldn't even break his sire’s skin. He still tried to pry that grip open, blinking blood away to meet the rubies of malice that were Mephistopheles’ eyes.

“Father,” he choked out. “Please.”

A laugh, low and rumbling. “How he begs, the halfbreed. Sweeter words than any of the tripe you ever uttered. Let me hear more,” he said, and tore off the other wing.

***

“You know, love, just once I’d like to see you not stopping to read every single book we find in every single crate abandoned in the middle of the woods. Or… to open every single crate we find abandoned in caves in the middle of the woods, come to think of it. All these crates have no business being in caves in the middle of the woods. That’s how a mimic is going to get you someday.”

Astarion’s long-suffering sigh made Durge - a silly placeholder name Gale had come up with in jest at the campfire a while ago, yet it had grown on them - smile faintly, but they did not look up from the book. It looked old, pretty close to crumbling to dust, but they could tell the cover had been quite elaborate once. Squinting in the light of the torch, they could barely make out the worn-out title. 

Mother of Flames, it read. Interesting. Something about dragonborns, perhaps?

“It’s a good thing, then,” they muttered, opening the book, “that my immortal lover is here to protect me from mimics with his amazing perception.”

“Mph. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“... Since when?”

“Well, fine, it is absolutely working. Don’t get too smug about it.”

“When do I ever,” Durge replied, smugly. Considering that they had defeated a Netherbrain only a few short months earlier, they felt they had gained themself the right to be smug. 

“You’re worse than Gale, both with books and the absolutely unwarranted smugness. See if I let you in my bedroll today,” Astarion muttered, but it was an empty threat and they both knew it. Even when absolutely nothing beyond mutual holding happened, Astarion had grown to enjoy the almost feverish warmth of the dragonborn’s skin against his. “Anyway, this place is as damp as it gets. If we’re to camp here for the day, I’ll get a fire started.”

Outside the cave, dawn was breaking. As they could only travel at night, Durge often took advantage of it to stand a little in the sun before retreating back to camp with Astarion, but this time they were too taken by the book - which was not at all about dragonborns after all. It was rather short, chronicling the life of a minor human lord in the last days of the Calimshan empire. But the man’s name had been lost to history - and soon enough, the focus shifted on his wife.

… As the collapsing empire was torn in city states following the Year of Clutching Dusk, the Tethyrian clan went to war to claim its independence, and the lord lent his sword. Alone in their small fort, his wife was tormented by visions of her husband’s violent demise in war, one dream of blood after the other. Driven half-mad with terror, desperate to avert this fate, she turned to occult means and soon enough, she summoned not just any devil, but an archdevil.

Durge lifted a scaly eyebrow, and turned a yellowed page as delicately as they could manage. They could already tell this tale was going to be a sorry one; nothing good ever came from dealing with devils, after all - with archdevils least of all. 

They were not wrong. 

The archdevil promised the woman he’d ensure her husband would survive the war and return home unscathed - ‘But,’ he told her, ‘your firstborn child will be mine.’

The desperation of faithful love, the human folly of believing you can outwit a devil! The unfortunate woman signed the deal believing it would be null and void; for her husband was past his prime, and believed to be barren, as both his doomed first marriage and their own union had been childless.

She signed her name, lost to the ages, thinking there would never be any firstborn to give, and she was lost. For what the archdevil’s careful wording hid was the true nature of his demand: that he beget his spawn on her. Bound by contract, fearful for her husband’s life, she could not avert that fate.

Ah, of course. Very archdevil, that. The distinct feeling that the story would end in tragedy was now a certainty: no human woman ever survived the birth of a cambion… and this tale was no exception.

On the very same day the lord returned unscathed from war, the devilish spawn came forth into our world in blood and flames. The unfortunate man returned to a dying wife and a horned monstrosity shrieking on the charred, bloody mattress. He drew his blade to kill it, but his wife stayed his hand with the last of her strength. Whether it was for fear of what may become of him should he harm the child of an archdevil, or out of misplaced affection for her ill-begotten offspring, no one knows. All that is known is that she died shortly thereafter, leaving a broken body in the arms of a broken man.

Both their names have been forgotten, but she would be remembered for a time in Tethyr as the Mother of Flames. As for the devil’s spawn, what became of it is also lost to time. Some said it was killed, or locked away in a dungeon, or sent someplace far away; others yet believe his most unholy father came to claim it when it came of age, and took it to the Hells with him. Perhaps only the archdevil who sired the creature knows whether any of these claims are true, or if the entire sorry tale is nothing but legend, seeping into ancient Tethyrian history.

“... There was a depressing ending, right? You get that look when it’s a depressing ending.”

Durge looked up to see the camp was pretty much ready, the fire crackling and food out, along with a bottle of blood for Astarion. Only one bedroll out, incidentally. They nodded, putting the book away. “Quite. Thank you for setting camp - I’ll dismantle it come evening.”

A grin. “Oh, I hope you’ll do a lot more than dismantle the camp,” Astarion said, all smoothness and charm, the bottle of blood already in hand; Durge mentally estimated that the odds of Astarion actually falling asleep on them the second they were in the bedroll were in the vicinity of eight out of ten. 

Of course, they were correct.

Once they were settled, Astarion asleep against their chest, Durge spent some time looking into the fire. Perhaps the book had affected more than they thought, because soon enough they were thinking back of their brief visit to Avernus, in the House of Hope… and about Raphael. 

He was a devil who played games with mortal souls, so it wasn’t like Durge was particularly pained by the way things had turned out. On the other hand, he had dealt with them as fairly as a devil could be expected to, and they did steal from his home. It could not be helped - only a fool would have let him have the Crown for himself - but it was not something Durge had enjoyed, either. That Raphael would not appreciate being double-crossed was a given. It just had to be done.

They’d thought they had killed him then, in the House of Hope. Later, when they’d seen him in the Orb of Infernal Envisioning - broken and bloody, dangling above the maw of Mephistopheles - they’d assumed the archdevil would finish him any moment, and averted their gaze. 

Except that when they returned a week later, to buy supplies before they set off with Astarion for what he’d dubbed with some pomp their ‘quest for daylight’, they had looked again... and they had seen the same thing. Raphael, reduced to a broken and bloody mess, dangling above Mephistopheles’ maw like not a moment had passed. They’d asked Helsik whether the orb showed current events, the past, or the future; she had looked back and shrugged.

“The Orb shows you what is fitting for you to see,” she had said, and that was that. 

And that, Love, was that. 

The rhyme Raphael had been so fond of surfaced from the back of Durge’s mind just as they were about to fall asleep. But they were tired, Astarion’s body against them a pleasant weight, and sleep claimed them before they could spare the devil another thought.

They used to be scared of falling asleep, but not anymore. With the Urge gone, their dreams were no longer of blood and guts and screams. Nothing more than the occasional nightmare, either way, and no nightmare would come that night. When they fell asleep now, they did not dream of blood. 

But they did dream of fire.

***

Raphael did not know how long he’d been there. 

Time in Cania flew at Mephistopheles’ pleasure, and his pleasure was a fickle thing. It could have been days, or months, or years since he’d awakened in his father’s grip. He did not know. All he knew was that sooner or later, the game would end and so would he. At this point, many would think it a mercy.

After tearing off his wings, he’d snapped his horns like twigs between thumb and forefinger. Something else had been torn from him, something intangible and yet fundamental, leaving behind only his weakened human form. A form that was now in only scraps of clothing and kneeling in a cell, shackled to the ceiling, a scold's bridle strapped to his head holding a spike through his tongue. His last weapon, made silent.

The wardens outside his cell were, however, far from silent. 

“Lord Mephistopheles is going to devour him at last, I hear.”

“Tonight?”

“-- at the feast, as an example--”

“-- can’t wait--”

“-- cambion like us, but he thought he was all that--”

Down came the claw, Raphael enough, and he could have laughed if not for the pain any movement brought him. He dropped his head instead, listening to the fading voice of wardens and the clinking of his own chains. It spoke volumes of how powerless he was now, that no magic was required to keep him shackled: only old, rusted chains. One last insult before the grand finale, and not the kind of finale he’d envisioned.

Here in Mephistar, he was the mouse who’d thought he could outfox the cat.

When the door of his cell opened, he didn’t look up at first. He only closed his eyes and wondered if he’d be able to hold it together when the moment came - if he could at least go to his destruction with some remnants of dignity intact. It took him a few moments to realize something was not quite right, that the steps did not sound like those of a warden. They were too light, too careful, too secretive. He blinked his eyes open when someone grasped his chin and tilted his face up. 

It was indeed not a warden. Before him was a human woman with dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and a nose that had clearly been broken and healed badly. Either someone was playing an odd trick on him, or this was one of his lord father’s Eternal Debtors. 

“I need you to listen. There isn’t much time,” the woman said, paying no mind to his obvious confusion. “Are you listening? Do you understand me?”

Too taken aback to protest at being spoken to in such a way by anyone’s Eternal Debtor - and held back from doing so by the inconvenient spike through his tongue either way - Raphael found himself nodding. The woman let go of his chin, and quickly put something at one of his fingers. Raphael turned to see a small unassuming ring shimmer for a moment around his finger before becoming invisible - but it was still there. He could still feel the cool metal band even though his hands had gone mostly numb, the cuffs biting deep into his wrists. 

“There is some power in this ring. Not much, but just enough. When you use it, it will allow you to switch places with somebody who’s wearing the matching one. Don’t use it now. Listen to me,” the Eternal Debtor added, and crouched in front of him. Dark brown eyes found his own, and held. “Mephistopheles cannot know you escaped until you’re well away from Mephistar. He and his entire court must think he devoured you, so you need to use this ring at the right moment, as you fall into his maw. He will devour someone all right, and will think it’s you. It’s the only way out of here. Am I clear?”

Raphael had no idea what in the nine Hells was going on, and he was too savvy not to guess that if someone was truly looking to save him, there would be a debt for him to repay afterwards. Nobody - not in Cania, not in Avernus, not in any of the Hells - would simply help someone without gaining something else in exchange. Who would want him alive, and out of there? What had they promised this Eternal Debtor, and what would they expect of him?

Vexing questions, but as had been the case with the many mortals who had taken his deals, the prospect of salvation was too enticing to pause too long and consider other consequences. He really did not like that reversal of roles, but he found the prospect of being devoured by Mephistopheles even less alluring. If he survived it, he could find a way to make things work out in his favor. If he was devoured… well, his story would end there with a less than impressive final act. 

The freedom of choosing the only option left. 

He used that line often. Ironic. He’d never hated irony more.

Unable to voice any of his thoughts, Raphael looked back at the human and nodded. She stared back at him in silence for a few moments, almost as if looking for something on his face , but it didn’t last long. She finally pulled back, and stood. 

“Use it too soon, and they’ll notice the trick. Wait too long, and you’re as good as dead. No pressure, but you absolutely must get the timing right.”

Raphael glared, hoping to convey his thoughts - tell me something I don’t know - through his eyes alone, but she was already turning to the door of the cell. She checked to ensure the route was clear, looked back at him one last time and then she was gone, closing the door quietly behind her. She left him with far more questions than answers, and the first sliver of hope he’d had since he’d been taken down in his own house.

***

“Hope you don’t mind traveling at night too much, Halsin.”

“Oh, not at all. Nature shows a particular side of its beauty at night. Softer, more--”

“Gods, is there a way to shut you up about nature for five minutes?”

“There is indeed a way to shut me up about anything for more than five minutes, Astarion. You know it very well. Made use of it, even.”

“I’d threaten to do it again, if I didn’t know you’d love it.”

“How could I not? Nature made your body into a masterpiece.”

“... You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

As much as Durge had missed traveling with all their companions - what a surprise it had been, getting to see all of them again the previous night! - they found they’d particularly missed Halsin’s company. Accepting his invitation to accompany him back at the Last Light Inn, to see the cursed lands healed, had taken no thought at all. When those two were not bickering, and when all three of them were not making extensive use of their bedrolls, they talked about their other companions and how well they were doing for themselves. 

Durge had little doubt that Gale would do well once the orb was out of his chest, or that Shadowheart would be perfectly capable of looking after herself as she began her journey to learn, once again, who she was meant to be. They were not surprised, either, to know Lae’zel was leading the githyanki to battle against the lich queen as fiercely as ever. 

But Wyll and Karlach… they were a surprise, and the most pleasant one they could imagine. Durge had hoped they would do all right together, even in Avernus, but not knowing it for sure ate at them sometimes. Seeing them whole and well, and even hopeful they could find a way to fix Karlach’s heart to the point she could leave Avernus again - and permanently - had relieved them beyond words.

If there was indeed a way for that heart to be fixed, they were certain they’d find it, as they were certain that whatever devil Mizora wanted Wyll to kill wouldn’t be a challenge. And if it was… well, Durge would be more than happy to lend a hand.

They had killed a devil once before already, anyway.

***

When wardens took Raphael to his father’s grand hall that evening, they didn’t bother to keep him in chains. He was weak, stuck in his human form, and powerless; his legs and spine were broken, as were several of his ribs, and he suspected at least one lung had been punctured.

The chains would give at least the semblance of a devil who could yet put up a fight, be any sort of threat, and his esteemed father clearly saw fit not to give him even that. Let him be dragged, broken and helpless, the rags still clinging to his frame doing nothing to hide his wounds. The only thing they left on was the scold’s bridle, the spike through his tongue. At least his words, Raphael told himself with something close enough to real conviction, were something Mephistopheles feared enough to keep at bay.

The hall was crowded, celebrations loud as always, but the crowd fell silent the instant Raphael was pushed onto the floor, before the pit where his father stood, ever looming and shrouded in flames. Rumbling laughter, and the massive hand was around him again, holding, squeezing, turning his ribs into shards of agony as it lifted him up in the air. An example for all to see. 

“Behold,” archdevil Mephistopheles announced to gales of laughter, “Raphael, the cambion who thought he’d rule the Hells.”

Unable to breathe, knowing full well that he may break if he allowed himself to look down at the jeering faces or at his own father’s eyes, Raphael closed his eyes against the pain and waited. He focused, he had to focus. Not a moment too soon, and not a moment too late. It was his only chance to survive, given that the ring did what it was supposed to.

It may as well have been a jab at his expenses, a worthless trinket to make him think he could save himself after all, get his hopes up for nothing. It was something he may appreciate, and quite a lot, when not done at his expenses.

“All you ever had I gave you, ungrateful wretch, and yet you wanted what is mine,” Mephistopheles thundered. Like wanting more was not at the core of every devil, like hungering for anything beyond their reach was not in their very nature, including his own. Like he, in his place, would not have done the same, coveted the same things. “A waste of my seed if there ever was one. I shall waste no more words on you. Let everyone see what becomes of those who set their sights too high.”

Raphael was lifted up in the air, and he finally opened his eyes. Beneath him, his father’s maw opened up like an abyss, all jagged teeth and churning flame. His hand opened, and Raphael fell. Through the sheer terror of it all, he forced his mind to keep working.

Wait. Wait. Wait. 

He almost waited too long, and landed on Mephistopheles’ tongue with a groan, every broken bone in his body crying out in protest. Still, he forced himself to move; a mere instant before the teeth snapped shut above him, he lifted up his hand. The ring shimmered and that, Love, was that. 

***

“Ah, here you are, my little brat. I’m almost happy to see you. Your unfortunate replacement was getting so very tedious, I couldn’t have kept entertaining him for much longer. He was getting really stupid ideas about the ring I gave him.”

Raphael was almost adorable, really, looking up at them with wide eyes from the middle of Haarlep’s bed. A very large bed, which had seen plenty of use since their return to Cania following Raphael’s downfall. Very often while Haarlep wore Raphael’s likeness, as they were doing right now. Come to think of it, he’d probably felt that, in whatever dungeon he’d been in. 

Ah well. At least it must have been a pleasant distraction from… everything else, really. 

“Not that I wouldn’t love to indulge you, but we have little time as is,” Haarlep spoke again, and reached to undo the straps of the scold’s bridle around Raphael’s head. They pulled it away as gently as they could manage, but removing a spike from one’s tongue had to be rather painful, going by the groan that left Raphael. 

And by the mouthful of blood he promptly spat on Haarleps nice sheets. Pretty rude, that, but nothing that couldn’t be cleaned up once they got Raphael out of there. Sooner rather than later.

“Haarlep,” Raphael rasped. It was likely the first thing he was able to say in months, and Haarlep couldn’t say they weren’t flattered. Or maybe he’d just said ‘help’. Hard to tell, with a hole in his tongue and all the blood in his mouth. “What-- where--?”

“Still in Mephistar, but not for long. Be a darling and sleep, why don’t you? You’ll make everything soooo much easier,” Haarlep replied, and pressed a hand over Raphael’s eyes. He tensed, but only for a moment: it took that short a time to make him fall into a slumber. He didn’t look peaceful in it, not the way he would after sharing a bed with them in less pressing circumstances, but it would have to do.

“Did it work? Is he here?”

Ah, that voice. Haarlep turned, and nodded at the human - an Eternal Debtor, one of the many - standing in the doorway. “It went without a single hitch, I’d say. Don’t you want to come in and say goodbye? After all, it’s been a while since you last--”

“I was in this to spite Mephistopheles, not out of any concern for him,” she cut him off. “Just get him out of the Hells and leave him someplace he may find a healer. I have done enough.”

“Fine, fine. If he wakes, should I tell him--”

“No. Not one word,” she snapped, and was gone before Haarlep could say anything. Ah, those bursts of temper. Highly unusual from an Eternal Debtor, yet so annoyingly familiar.

The incubus shrugged, and looked down at Raphael. The tatters that had once been his clothes would do nothing to protect him from the biting cold outside Mephistopheles’ palace, so they resorted to taking the sheets from their bed and wrapping them around him. Once satisfied his former master wouldn’t be turned into an icicle the moment they were outside, Haarlep picked him up - a hiss of pain, but he did not awaken - before walking to the window. 

Across the windswept courtyard, there was a window that should have been left unlatched specifically for them. It led, Haarlep knew, to the room holding Mephistopheles’ outer portals. From there, they just had to pick one to get Raphael in the material plane. From that moment on his survival would be up to him, and to whatever mortals he encountered. 

It wasn’t much, but it gave him better odds than going down the gullet of an archdevil at least.

Haarlep opened the window, adjusted their grip on Raphael’s body, and took flight.

***

[On to Chapter 2]

#bg3 #baldur's gate III #astarion #raphael bg3 #the dark urge #wyll ravengard #karlach #halsin #baldur's gate 3 #haarlep #hell to pay

[lelalyo]

Wyll doesn't just deserve more content, he deserves better content, in my humble opinion.

I know a lot of people were concerned about the change of category (is that the proper phrase?) about the Ansur part of his quest but I feel like that part needs changing to a degree. Primarily because it doesn't feel very Wyll specific.

I feel like it focuses more on how the Emperor is a scumbag then anything to do with Wyll.

I'm not a writer by any stretch of the imagination but I feel like you could've still had that confrontation with Ansur and the Emperor and had something that tied to Wyll like after you fight him, maybe Ansur sees some of himself in Wyll - a loyal protector - a strong guardian - a man of morals and maybe Ansur decides he doesn't want history to repeat itself. He doesn't want someone else to fall victim to the Emperor again so he gifts Wyll power or a weapon or something that could put him on par with Mizora so he doesn't need her help anymore.

He held out, he endured, he stayed true to himself and finally, someone recognizes that, truly acknowledges his efforts and now he has power that is truly his, that he earned in his own right by being who he is.

Maybe then you could tie that into a climax, a final confrontation with Mizora. Maybe instead of killing his father in the Iron Throne, she simply kidnaps him from there before before you arrive to make Wyll panic that we were too late and something has happened to his father.

Maybe Mizora appears at camp with his father as a bargaining chip, mocks him for going on a wild goose chase and how amusing it was to watch. She could threaten his father to make Wyll more compliant, to try force him to resign the pact but this time is different.

This time Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers, isn't the one who's at a disadvantage. Maybe you could have a Durge vs Orin situation - a 1v1, duel to the death with strict rules of engagement to be fraught at the foot of the hill where this all began - if Mizora wins, Wyll resigns and can never break free from the hells. If Wyll wins, Mizora dies and his father goes free.

Maybe Mizora uses a loop hole in the duel's rules to cheat when she's near defeat and that's when you and the rest of your party jump in to keep Mizora's lackeys at bay while Wyll finishes her off and then a cutscene of the final blow, of Wyll's victory. Finally, he's a free man and his father sees him for who he is. His actions said everything they needed to.

I don't know, like I said, not a writer in any capacity and I feel like I'm just getting lost in my own musing - there's lots of things I didn't consider, like surely a situation like this would have point holes everywhere, especially since I don't know the first thing about DnD and it's lore but my original point was that I feel like Wyll needs a moment - that character defining moment that most of the other characters have - that time for him because he is a good character, I really like him and I hope that Larian listens.

I appreciate all the hard work they do with all the patches, never doubt that but I've always felt like Wyll's story needs more attention and it is important - he's a main character, an origin, he's a key feature of the game and that should take priority.

I love all the new features that they add (to a degree) but this is a core issue and I'd much prefer they work on the things that matter and add the fluff later.

Just my two cents though, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Edit: I just remembered that devils go back to the hells when they die top side, right? (See, what did I say? Plot holes) but maybe it wouldn't matter since Wyll would've lived a long life by the time Mizora pops up again. Maybe she swears revenge on the Ravengard's and bam, plot for the next game. If there is one. LMAO

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Wyll Ravengard #The Blade of Frontiers #BG3 Mizora #Mizora

[crossdressingdeath]

Sceleritas Fel: I come here, for I wish to bring you another powerful tithe. Sceleritas Fel: But I cannot grant you this prize quite yet. You must do something divinely unspeakable first. Kyvir: A prize? Sceleritas Fel: The reward will titillate your twitching Urge, in preparation for the rest of your inheritance to come. Sceleritas Fel: You will receive a royal prize for killing this pretty girl. Sceleritas Fel: Isobel: the cleric with the sweetest face of the Moon. Sceleritas Fel: She is too precious to live. Kyvir: What has she done to deserve such a fate? Sceleritas Fel: Why, the greatest crime of them all: nothing at all! Kyvir: I might be willing. Is there a catch? Sceleritas Fel: No catch at all. You will get to see the beautiful sight of an entire village filled with bodies. Sceleritas Fel: You adore piles of bodies, Master. They have always been your favourite. Kyvir: Give in to the rush of joy that courses through you. Sceleritas Fel: Good, dear tainted one. Good. Sceleritas Fel: Be true to yourself, my Lord.

Kyvir's story is slowly starting to come together, I think. It involves following the Urge more or less willingly until after killing Isobel, since I happen to have spoiled who the next major target after her is for myself and that I will not be doing because no. It's also fun having Isobel's death be the start of the tipping point, since uh. entire village filled with bodies. That's a lot, even if Durge is kind of very into the idea of it. It's one thing to kill someone here and there, or to vaguely remember killing enough people that the bodies fall in piles at your feet; it's quite another to knowingly, willingly wipe out a whole village in one fell swoop.

But also this triggering after the whole thing with Lae'zel deciding to help Voss fight against Vlaakith and Mizora offering the chance of freeing Wyll from his pact if he fulfills one last duty and Mystra ordering Gale to suicide-bomb the Absolute (and after every hope of getting rid of the parasite other than going to Moonrise, the heart of the Absolute's power, has fallen through) is very good. A Durge who's conflicted about what they're doing but not wholly against the idea of playing assassin for some unknown force has a lot of very good reasons (or excuses) to agree to kill Isobel in the hope that whatever they get for it will give them the edge they desperately need to take down the Absolute and defeat the various incredibly powerful beings threatening their friends. It's a really good setup to encourage players who don't want to commit to being an irredeemable monster to actually lean into the more monstrous parts of the Durge storyline, I like it!

Also, I love the way Sceleritas is like "You adore piles of bodies, they've always been your favourite". Like coaxing a toddler. "But you like this!" Sceleritas really is a fascinating character, I desperately want to know what's up with him. He's clearly acting on the orders of someone other than his "master" given things like him being forbidden to tell them about their past even when they order him to do so, but at this point I don't have any of the details on who or even what he is beyond that. Also, he has a nice hat. The hat is of vital importance.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 durge #sceleritas fel #kyvir

[stealthnoodle]

Baldur's Gate 3 is still letting me do things, and with my strategy of playing this game during all of my free time to distract from December, I have done things all the way to the end of it! And immediately am starting a new game, because of course I am.

Let's get this tragedy out of the way first and then go into spoilers:

Presented with the option to give Mother the MacGuffin, Miette naturally refused. Listen. She got Wyll out of his pact. She stopped a big ol' vampiric ascension and turned hundreds of vampire spawn loose in the Underdark. She killed a devil who had been harassing her all game and stole all his stuff. No one tells her she can't do something, especially not Mother.

(Also she didn't drag that fancy magic hammer out of Hell for nothing, and Lae'zel was her cherished fuck-buddy for like four whole days, so no. Mother cannot eat Orpheus.)

Which means I got the Patricia Lockwood heel-turn. Then Orpheus called Miette out for fucking a mindflayer (in front of all her friends, who had magically forgotten about that), which was rude, but she still turned into a mindflayer herself partially so he wouldn't have to but mostly so she could be the tall one.

SIZE MEDIUM, BITCHES. Now Miette is the one who opens the cupboards and the cans! Now Miette is the one who kicks YOUR body like the football! (During that final battle, it was actually Karlach who kicked mindflayers off the edge of the brainship, but close enough, shhh.)

I would like to stress that Miette consumed zero tadpoles prior to this, because Mother told her to and she doesn't obey Mother. "Embrace Your Potential" has languished in the quest log. We just went zero to eldritch horror in a snap. Like damn, I could have had these abilities all along??

The only downside, as far as Miette is concerned, is that she can't wear the jutilated jarapace anymore. :( A tragedy second only to the Karlach situation. (Well, not second to the entire Karlach situation, because her breakdown after killing Gortash made me fucking cry.)

Then I ran into the consequences of making everyone prance around camp in sexy underwear combined with my decision to yoink Halsin's armor without replacing it with anything:

He showed up like this AGAIN in the background of the ending during a very emotional Karlach moment, too:

idk if it's a bug or intentional that the ending skipped ahead without any more character interactions after Miette decided to relocate to Avernus with ex-bf Wyll and never-gf Karlach, but I want to believe everyone just wanted to wrap things up after this.

The reunion epilogue was very sweet and I had to spend three (3) points of inspiration not to freak out and eat Shadowheart's brain, which feels like a very Miette sendoff. Though not as much of a Miette sendoff as me stubbornly trying to change her clothes for five straight minutes because why can't she wear her sexy lingerie anymore.

The moral of the story is that mindflayers deserve fashion rights.

Speaking of fashion rights, I want to find out what this "Dark Urge" origin is, and I made the perfect woman for the job:

For her Guardian, I hit "Randomize" once and got this. The game knows what I'm doing and it is enabling me

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #stealthnoodle plays bg3 #bg3 spoilers #and now: miette's apology tour #sorry i broke up with you and then got your dad killed wyll #sorry i banged you and then ran off to hell without even saying goodbye halsin #sorry i never got your approval above neutral astarion #(it was the clown incident wasn't it) #sorry i killed your sister hope #(she was level 5 and wouldn't stay out of my aoe spells) #sorry to the npcs who died because i didn't realize i needed to complete some quests in a timely fashion #sorry to the real patricia lockwood for dragging her name into this mess #not sorry to the in-game one #mother had it coming #this randomized guardian looks eerily similar to my first da:o warden #who was even more of a force of chaos than miette

[limpfisted]

THE SPECIFIC LORE OF THE BLADE OF THE FRONTIERS / RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN WYLL AND FAERUN, WHAT YOUR MUSE WOULD HAVE HEARD OF WYLL.

by default, unless your muse just does not give a shit about the happenings in the last seven years, your muse would have probably heard of a heroic “arcane knight” who frequents the hells to fight “evil” devils and monsters—but also goes town to town, place to place, fighting bandits, cultists and monsters (and yes, whoever mizora asks him to, sometimes innocents he allows himself to be fooled into thinking are guilty), and proctectinf women, children, people of marginalized fantasy races (besides goblins and devils), refugees, and the poor. he is a proper folk hero, and people HAVE heard of him all over the coasts, and he is known for storm and sword powers, as well as his charisma in telling tales of the hells.

but more importantly, no one, save the people wyll knows personally and has interacted with before AND after his banishment, know wyll ravengard, banished prince, is THE BLADE OF THE FRONTIERS. wyll has not been back to baldur’s gate since his father exiled him, some of the nobles never leave it. the blade and the banished son are known as names and rumors/legends all over faerun, but very few people know the two are one and the same, and wyll will dodge the question if asked. wylls father has also not told anyone about the pact, save his closest confidants.

in general, wyll never asks for payment, but is happy to take it when others insist. he buys fine things sparsely with his money, packs light, has few personal keepsakes, buys books and gifts them to libraries or sells them to shops when he is done with them. he keeps a journal full of poetry, and a seperate full of his adventures, and a third a book of spells and “progress” with his powers, and the further “gifts” he recieves from mizora.

mostly, people seem to be wary of him even before the horns, so they don’t ask too many questions until the job is done and their lives are saved—and even then theyre always content with not tall tales, but true tales enlarged, and news of other towns, over free drink and board.

wyll does not travel with others, though he sometimes makes friends on “missions.” he does not check in on them often—but they always have a blade by their side for missions of their own—though very rarely leisure.

wyll is something of a “workaholic” when he’s not celebrating his victories. he always goes the extra mile, theres always showmanship and flourishes, he genuinely lives to fight for others and be recognized for his goodness. which is what he deserves tbh he just saved ur life!!

wyll takes his job helping ppl by fighting monsters and devils very seriously, and he knows the blade thing isnt THAT serious, but wyll loves to have fun and keep things light and cheery even when hes suffering. the blade makes him confident and proud, and it gives his ferocity and impulses for violence and vanity and gratification meaningful and fun, even when they scare him

a part of wylls thing is in many ways hes a generic adventurer in temperament. like, he is swishy and gay and poetic and he can talk his way out of things and he makes a good love interest and a better player character. like balduran, he seems “pure good,” the heart and hope and pride of the gate. he keeps it light and smiley and soft, but his heroes and his upbringing are full of lies, and so is he.

in general i believe wylls stats and proficiencies were much higher pre-tadpole, a level 15 at least. hes lost some points!

wyll has saved many ppl, and pre-game, he is actually quite known in the hells as well as a pesky demon-like human. untouchable bc of his powerful pact. but also? a huge asshole? who makes them so so mad? they think this dude must be insane fr. how is some human gonna come here asking for another devil without making a deal, the damn nerve!!!

#he is a legend and not just in his own mind #he has only been the blade for about 7 years tho so. if ur over a hundred thats the blink of an eye #ooc #hc #insight check. ooc. hc

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

wyll questions 3 & 4 for majexatli!!

What did your character think about Wyll’s relationship with his father? Did they help Wyll save his father and repair their bond, or did Duke Ravengard die?

I think personally, Majexatli doesn't like Wyll's father (or at least his past actions). To Majexatli, it's clear that Ulder was entirely in the wrong to kick Wyll out. Majexatli has personal experience with being kicked out of the only home you've ever known right after a traumatic injury, so it's hard for their own feelings not to bleed into how they view Ulder. But they also know it's not up to them in the end to judge or decide how Wyll's relationship with his father was. They don't hesitate to tell Wyll how they think it's wrong how his father treated him after he made his pact.

Majexatli doesn't have a lot of context for familial relations, given that they never had any family growing up, so I think they are aware they don't quite understand the type of bond a parent and child might have (aside from what they imagine life would have been like if they had a chance to give birth to their child).

For Ulder's fate, Majexatli as mentioned, does have the maturity to let Wyll make decisions about his own soul and his father's fate. Their opinion is that Wyll deserves to be free of his pact, in part because Majexatli like just, at this point in their life, can no longer find honor in being self-sacrificing and selfless to the point of neglecting your own needs. There's a line in a WIP outline of Majexatli's:

I don’t know how much longer I can find divinity or honor in letting others pick my bones clean

Wyll ended up breaking free of his pact, and when they saw how much it pained Wyll to lose his father, Majexatli was very adamant that they will do everything they can to save Ulder--regardless of how they feel about Ulder, they care more about what Wyll wants. And they do successfully save Ulder, it's a bloodbath and horrifically stressful and Majexatli took an obscene amount of damage doing it, but they want to do everything in their power to support Wyll and make him happy.

“Courage. Insight. Strategy. Justice.” Did your character support Wyll’s taught tenets as a hero or not?

(I tried to answer this and ended up going on tangents about Wyll and Majexatli's view of heroism, whoops. It might not fully answer this but I am too Brain Foggy to rewrite it all.)

I think Majexatli has complicated feelings about heroism and what it entails. They don't necessarily disagree with those tenets, they're certainly important and are important, I just think Majexatli is just like... man, it's complicated.

Majexatli doesn't think themselves a hero or someone who upholds those tenets. They're a malarite, they hunt animals and even people and eat them and burn the rest as offerings to a chaotic evil god who believes that only the strong should survive and that there is no balance. They've done heroic things, but they don't see themselves as a hero, the same way they are sickened by being named Faithwarden.

I think Majexatli admires Wyll's heroism and his beliefs in it, they think he actually is a hero. But they think most people who talk about heroism or strive to be a hero are out of touch with the world and that hero is such an arbitrary title and has such arbitrary meaning that it's meaningless at best. I mean, Wyll was taught those 4 tenets by his father but his father didn't really follow those.

Father taught me the four pillars of power. Courage. Insight. Strategy. Justice. He reckoned I'd follow in his footsteps - first as a Fist Marshal, then as a duke. Vanquish evil, maintain order, save the world. But a duke makes bedfellows with more monsters than he slays. Father called it 'diplomacy'. I called it 'hypocrisy'. In the frontiers, there is no posturing, no diplomacy. I slay monsters, I don't consort with them.

I suppose Majexatli agrees with Wyll, they don't care for the posturing or diplomacy that they feel is behind the 4 tenets. Actions are better than words, they have more respect for Wyll than they do for the 4 tenets. I think Wyll and Majexatli are quite similar minds and views in many ways, but as Majexatli sees it, Wyll is a Hero who may have done monstrous things (making a pact with a warlock, doing Mizora's bidding), and Majexatli sees themselves as a Monster who has done heroic things.

#eldritch it speaks #salam plays bg3 #oc: majexatli

[thessalian]

Faerun!Alisaie vs Auntie Ethel, Again

But first, a certain Blade's aftermath

Wyll: I don't believe I condemned my father to death. I--

Alisaie: Dude, seriously. Look. You could not make that decision yourself, because you're way too damn close to it, so you put it in my hands ... probably at least in part to have someone to blame for it, but okay, fine, I can cope. But let's look at the logic. The man basically disowned you for making that fucking pact. That's how much he hated that you were in it.

Wyll: So, what, he deserves to--?

Alisaie: Oh, for fuck's sake, no. Look, just shut up. This is Alisiae Tav Talking Time. He sent you away because he couldn't bear seeing you in that pact, and--

Wyll: But he hated me--

Alisaie: ALISAIE. TAV. TALKING. TIME. He did not hate you. He couldn't bear to look at you because he felt like he failed you. He left you to run Baldur's fucking Gate alone at a young age and a demon came in and ... hell, probably manufactured a situation where a pact with a demon was the only way to save the entire city. If he'd left you with any kind of backup, that would not have been a thing. He blames himself. He couldn't look at you because he couldn't help you and it killed him to see it. ...Plus also probably a little bit not wanting to have a demon potentially pulling political strings on the Sword Coast, but that's beside the point. Anyway. Point is that if he knew - absolutely, for 100% certain knew that his death would free you from that pact, I would bet coppers to croissants that he'd stick the blade in his own throat to set you free. Because you are his son and he loves you and parents are willing to die for the lives, safety, and well-being of their children.

Shadowheart: I thought your parents were petty criminals who were looking to sell you off to Sharess' Caress when you were far too young for any of that kind of thing. How do you know so much about parents?

Alisaie: Yeah, fine, my family was not exactly what you'd call 'loving' or anything other than 'abusive' but guys, come on; I'm a bard. I Know Stuff.

Shadowheart: Fair. And honestly, none of this matters in the least because Alisaie is a hero and she's made us all into heroes - and in your case, Wyll, that's ... I suppose 'hero squared', all things considered...

Astarion: What she's trying to say is that there's almost certain to be a 'in the very teeth of time' rescue situation in the not-too-distant future. Don't worry; one doesn't just ... make Duke Ravengard dead, even if Gortash is running things at the moment. They'll take a few days to let the populace forget all about him and then they'll make him dead.

Alisaie: Bedside manner. Get one.

Astarion: I was only saying we've got time. So possibly unbunch your knickers a little, Wyll.

Alisaie: Anyway, there's another good reason why I kind of had to vote for you breaking the pact. Karlach doesn't know your father, doesn't care about politics, and would probably crush my head if I handed you over to Mizora.

Karlach: You're my bestie and all, but ... it's true. I would.

Wyll: So ... good deeds as a distraction so no one thinks we're really hunting them, and then we save my father?

Alisaie: Pretty much, yeah.

And, after a stop at the Baldur's Mouth just to be petty

Wyll: We're doing good deeds ... in the park.

Alisaie: We're prepping for good deeds in the park. Look, when I was younger, I couldn't afford apothecary prices, and foraging for herbalism components so I didn't die of scurvy or infected wounds or whatever else kind of got to be a habit, so... Huh.

Gale: Um ... is that your "illithid so-called Emperor is talking to me" 'huh', or your "I am seeing something that most don't see because I let Volo of all people stick an awl in my eye" 'huh'?

Alisaie: ...Wyll? How do you feel about venting some spleen by stabbing some Bhaal cultists?

Wyll: Fairly good, as it happens, but what--?

Bhaal Cultist: *swearing a lot from behind Invisibility ability*

Gale: Ah. Yes. Botched-surgery-had-perks 'huh'. Fair enough.

Stabnation: *ensues*

Elder Brain servants: *turn up to help* Free uuuuuuuuuus...

Alisaie: ...I do not consider "help I didn't need with an ambush" sufficient payment for letting an elder brain run amok. Just saying.

After that whole mess is sorted

Gale: Are we sure we want to check in on the hag survivors? I mean, that eviction notice about the walls bleeding does not fill me with comfort. I mean, we could go rob Lorroakan...

Alisaie: And then we'll have to hang out with Astarion and he'd want to know why we can't just kill his sire and make him UberVamp and I have enough to cope with right now. I just want to check in on Mayrina and her undead husband because they're bound to be here...

Cleric of Torm: BEGONE, FOUL HAG!

Alisaie: Hey, look, I got ambushed by assassins on the way here, so don't give me shit for my hair not being on point.

Hag Survivors: ................................

Bugbear Dude: She's telling the truth, as it happens.

Cleric of Torm: Oh. Yes. The ... the one Mayrina told us about. Well. Before she could say anything but "baaaa", anyway.

Alisaie: What the fuck--? *heads upstairs* ...Oh for... HEY! CLERIC-LADY! WHAT CLERIC WORTH A SHIT CAN'T REMOVE A CURSE?!?

Cleric of Torm: Um...

Snake Individual: Aw. And I was having such a good time.

Alisaie: ...wut.

Snake Individual: *becomes redcap*

Now-Redcap: *summons multiple giant crabs*

Alisaie: ...And here's me without a pot of boiling water and some garlic butter handy. Oh well. I guess I'll have to improvise.

Stabnation: *ensues again*

When that's all over and done with

Mayrina: Thanks for that. We were fighting her--

Wyll: 'Her'? You mean Ethel? That 'her'? The one we shish-kabobed and set on fire?

Mayrina; Alisaie: That doesn't kill a hag.

Mayrina: Turns out you need to kill her mushrooms first. Oh, by the way, we found out she wanted to eat my baby to turn it into a hag like her, so she's been looking for another kid, and...

Alisaie; Wyll; Shadowheart; Gale: Vanra.

Mayrina: We've got the fixings for Hag's Bane in the safe downstairs. We'd go - I mean, we tried, but I'm not a fighter, Connor ... really only does direct instructions, that scaly asshole was probably hobbling us, our bugbear friend's kind of lacking in the smarts department, and our cleric...

Cleric of Torm: *fervently praying after having done jack all during the fight but cast Shield of Faith on herself and then stand there*

Shadowheart: Gives the priesthood a bad name; I understand.

Wyll: So now where to?

Alisaie: Barman was less than helpful, so we go to the woman in charge at the Blushing Mermaid. Captain Grizly has a bit of a past but not even she's going to be into kid-stealing.

And, back at the Blushing Mermaid...

'Captain Grizly': Lora's a right mare and getting on my tits with this so-called 'missing child' bollocks. I want you to end her.

Alisaie: I have way more important uses to put this particular blade to than killing a frantic parent, lady. And you are not Captain Grizly because she'd do her own damn killing.

'Captain Grizly': *becomes Auntie Ethel*

Wyll; Gale: Whaaaaaaaaaaat the fuuuuuuuuuck...

Shadowheart: Their general perception of the world around them is a bit lacking, isn't it?

Alisaie: So's their grasp of dramatic narrative. So, come on. Vanish and make us chase you into your lair again.

Ethel: Oh, no. Fighting's bad for the baby. I thought I'd give you a bit of an appetizer first anyway.

Various Patrons: *become redcaps*

Alisaie: Oh for fuck's sake, I hope the real Captain Grizly's alive so I can explain why there's going to be more blood than usual on her carpets...

Stabnation: *ensues yet again, because it is that kind of day*

And, eventually, in the hag's lair, after a lot of stabbing and trying not to kill Captain Grizly with her Whispering Mask issue...

Shadowheart: This is not going well. I can't even see her copies, let alone tell which one is really her. And excuse me, invoking duplicity is my thing...

Alisaie: Shadowheart! Flame Strike! THERE! *points at random section of deck*

Shadowheart: ...Oh, right, Volo's nonsense! *calls down holy fire*

Ethel: So you learned a few new tricks. Fine. That won't save you. Look at you, all poison-sick and covered in insects and cowering where my beloved mushrooms stood. You're done. ...Last words, mouthy-bard?

Alisaie: Just four: "I. Got. You. Monologuing."

Ethel: ...what--

Alisaie: *Mobile Flourish - Ranged*

Ethel: *is yeeted into a chasm and dies*

Gale: ...You know Astarion would have yelled at you for losing any loot she might have been carrying down a hole.

Alisaie: Astarion can go fuck himself.

Wyll: Um ... I used my last Misty Step to get over here to destroy the mushroom and ... I'm kind of stuck...

Alisaie: Luckily for you, I can help with that. *tosses a Potion of Glorious Vaulting* The fruits of my foraging labours earlier. Worth having to stab a few assassins for?

Wyll: Right now? YES.

Captain Grizly: ...Are your lives always this insane?

Alisaie: This is actually pretty tame compared to some of the shit we've had this month, honestly. Oh, yeah, by the way, sorry about the ... whole thing in the upstairs. We had to kill a lot of redcaps on your carpet--

Gale: Though she did get me to throw a health potion at some of your clientele so they didn't die of shrapnel bomb, so that's something...

Alisaie: And the chest I poked in your chambers? I honestly thought that was Ethel's and I backed off when I got funny looks.

Captain Grizly: Right. Well. I think saving my life kind of covers all that. You've always got a home at the Blushing Mermaid. ...Say, I remember you - you used to play a battered lute for incoming sailors down on the docks before you moved on to better things!

Alisaie: If that's a request for a command performance, probably going to need to be tomorrow. I've got to make sure Vanra got back to Lora, and let Mayrina know that Ethel's proper dead this time, and then I probably need to wash more than blood out of my hair...

Captain Grizly: ...Well ... my stage is always open.

((Controller Person Note: Yes, Alisaie is technically Featherwind in Ellon, but we're not in Ellon, and anyway, given how well it scans, I couldn't help the Gideon the Ninth reference.))

#Faerun!Alisaie #Thess liveblogs Baldur's Gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

[hexblooddruid]

God I actually wrote a scene where Wyll goes to Bryn after freeing Ulder and breaking his pact where he’s trying to tell her how grateful he is and he starts going on about how much he owes her and she just grabs him and says “you owe me nothing. There’s no acts or feats you need to perform to deserve my love and protection.”

#bg3 spoilers #bryn acevedo #if you were a psalm I’d never stop praying #wyll has struggled and fought to just be allowed to care about people for his entire very young (he’s! 24!) life #he’s so used to it so used to giving everything of himself #while getting worse than nothing in return (nothing at best!) #that he barely believes it when she takes him by the hand and says no #you never have to do anything by yourself ever again

[kisari]

Finished Baldur's Gate 3 Wow. Really great. I really went into it not caring how good it was. I bought it when it first went into Early Access forever ago. CRPGs are my jam and I knew even if it wasn't great, I'd enjoy it. But it really did exceed all expectations. Seeing it become critically acclaimed is... wild. And it deserves it. Fun to play. Enjoyable story. mega spoilers under the cut for the Dark Urge play through, chapter 3 and the ending

For my route, I played a "Redeemed" Dark Urge drow, kind of going a middle of the road type morality with an emphasis on freedom. Freedom from gods. Freedom from control. Freedom in it's purest form. Lots of daddy issues. I think this is partially why I love being a Bhaalspawn so much. I'm addicted to daddy issues. Having him romance Astarion only made sense. They worked perfectly together, honestly. I also romanced Halsin on the side, but it didn't include him in the ending scenes. Sucky. Wyll also broke his pact with Mizora for me, and because of it, Karlach is doomed. There is only one way to save her, and that's by having Wyll keep his pact with her and he vows to protect her in Avernus and save her heart... Since I didn't do that.... Karlach offered herself up to become a mindflayer. I let her, and she transformed. And then I also denied The Emperor and freed Orpheus. I think one of my biggest complaints, story wise, IS the emperor. His whole claim of, Mindflayers are still people is all well and good and yeah! Once they are out of a big brain's control, they are! But as soon as you say you want to release Orpheus... HE GOES AND JOINS THE BRAINS SIDE? It makes no logistical sense, to his character or the plot. The brain winning means /him/ being enthralled again, going against his core beliefs of freedom himself. And he seems to want to eat Orpheus' brain for literally no reason other than to be an ass. It's completely unnecessary to winning. While Karlach stays herself as a mind flayer, The Emperor really just does a shit job at being morally gray because his pragmatism goes into just... cruelty. Until the end I was thinking, yeah sure he can be trusted. Until then. What an idiot. AND HE KILLED HIS DRAGON LOVER. Anyways my beloved boy Kyros is free of Bhaal. Free of tadpole. And is now traveling the world with Astarion looking for a way to let him go into the sunlight again..

#kisagamerambling

[ryttu3k]

So this next update is from the Gauntlet of Shar through to the end of act 2 and I have *checks* 690 caps so. This'll go fine.

We head into the (creepy, creepy) Gauntlet. Well, first the tomb, which confirmed a theory, then to the Gauntlet. Shadowheart talks about the tasks required to become a Dark Justiciar and everyone exchanges nervous glances hearing about a sacrifice, because. It's fine. This is fine, right.

I feel the highlighted text is basically the arc line for every companion story.

Just going to transcribe this bit because... image limit, but there was a very interesting exchange between Shadowheart and Halsin here:

Shadowheart: "Lady Shar… so many must have toiled to make a visage so grand. It's beautiful…" Halsin: "Shar's armies of destruction arose from within these halls." Shadowheart: "Those who do not listen to the reason of Lady Shar's words must instead feel the keenness of her blade." Halsin: "You sound like a student - reciting words for a test without considering their meaning." Shadowheart: "I've considered them plenty. Besides, Lady Shar favours actions over words. Try it out, sometime."

Huh!

Balthazar confirmed for creepy. "We're still close. She's in a jar on the shelf over there :)"

Did the first trial, the invisible path one. Shadowheart died several times. I savescummed and used a guide until I got it right. Next, the battle with the orthon. Not sure if it was a glitch but I didn't even get the chance to talk to the guy, alas. Wyll came in very handy here, since he levelled up to 11 just in time to learn a portal spell, so we could basically sneak up.

Astarion: "The orthon is nothing. I'll have my satisfaction when Raphael makes good on his word." Tae: "Repeat after me: Thank you for helping me, it was very kind." Astarion: "Hmm. Hrmmm. Thank you for helping me, it was very kind :|"

Marvellous facial expression here. But no disapproval!

Then, speak of the devil - here's Raphael, here to deliver his promise to Astarion, telling him what the scars mean. tfw you find out you have an infernal pact meant to kill you and elevate your abuser of two centuries to extreme never-before-seen power.

Astarion: "Hmm…" Tae: "Cazador is a piece of shit. We're going to stop him." Astarion: "Do you think it's so simple?" Tae: "You'll never be free while Cazador lives." Astarion: "I hate how right you are. I knew he wouldn't leave me alone even when I was just another wretched toy for him to play with. But if I'm the key to this power he craves, he'll hunt me to the ends of Faerûn. I need to take the fight to him. And I need you to help me." Tae: "Of course I'll help. We'll hunt him down and kill him." Astarion: "Thank you."

Yeah I am thinking thoughts about that, "I need you to help me" part and the, "I'm not used to asking for help and being met with, well... help" line (when Raphael reveals his scars). Yeah, he's scared out of his mind over what Cazador has the power to do to him, and it could just be sheer desperation, but it could also be that he is starting to trust his friends.

One of my favourite parts, now - the companions have their say. My favourite response is from Karlach, as seen in this post, but they're all. So good <3 Fuck you, Cazador, you're not touching our friend! Here's all of them:

Karlach: "Wish I could say I was surprised about Cazador's pact. Where blood, death, and betrayal parade, you can bet your arse a devil is riding grand marshal. We're going to keep Astarion safe. On my life, Cazador won't touch him."

Lae'zel: "Full-fledged vampires are not so easily slain. Astarion's master will be no exception. Fortunate for him, slaying monstrous fanatics is a pastime of ours."

Gale: "I can't imagine how Astarion must be feeling. The terms of your own condemnation carved into your skin… A monster's actions. And monsters do not deserve such power as that ritual promised. When the time comes, Astarion will have his revenge, I'm sure. And it will be richly deserved."

Shadowheart: "It seems like Cazador used Astarion's flesh not as a canvas, but as a contract. We haven't heard the last of this, I'll wager."

Wyll: "Our very own vampire's the missing pawn in his master's deadly game. Now how about we go and reverse Cazador's fortunes?"

Back to the Gauntlet! We complete the other two trials, albeit not just with Shadowheart - Astarion does the sneaking one on his own, and, well, the whole squad goes in for the duplicate one, haha. Then... it's time to jump into the Shadowfell, to find this relic to stop Ketheric, and for Shadowheart to do the last part of the Gauntlet, to become a Dark Justiciar.

Naturally, it doesn't run smoothly. Shadowheart declares that Balthazar has interfered in Shar's plans for too long, and it's time for a fight! We beat him, and that leaves... Shadowheart, to face off with the relic keeping Ketheric alive, and her intended sacrifice to become a Dark Justiciar: Aylin, the Nightsong, daughter of Selûne.

Funny how those things so often coincide. Training the weapons of Shar on the undying body of her own niece, and also the one directly connected with the plot.

Had to do a reset here, because I was nooot going to pass that DC 30 persuasion check (the correct method is to trust Shadowheart to her own actions, let Aylin talk to her, then pass the now-DC 21 check. If you talk to her after failing the DC 30 one, you have to fight and kill her. Not ideal!!). Still had to ask a pointed question, though - "Is this what you truly want?"

(Arc words!!)

Shadowheart is convinced - and hurls the spear she received from the Gauntlet into the void. Then freaks a little because oh god oh fuck she defied her goddess.

Aylin proceeds to steal the show by producing a shining set of armour and a big set of wings, nbd you see that all the time. She gives Shadowheart a Selûnite spear to replace the one she discarded, and then gives the next mission:

Onwards! We return to the outside of the Gauntlet - only to find that in those few seconds, Shadowheart has been blocked from leaving by Shar then tortured and banished holy shit ;_;

Larian why did you not give me an option to say, "You're not alone, you'll never have to be alone again, you have us"? ;_; Once again, the companions can voice that, but damn, I really wanted to tell her. Here are their comments:

Halsin: "Shar's ire has shaken Shadowheart… and yet she goes on. There is untold strength there, I feel."

Wyll: "She called Shadowheart 'nothing'. But I know better than that. She is something. She is worthy, she is strong. She is Shadowheart. Nothing can take the her from her. Not even a goddess."

Astarion: "I suppose it was only a matter of time until Shar took vengeance. For the Lady of Loss, she does not like losing."

Karlach: "I hate seeing Shadowheart suffer like this. All for doing the right thing. It's up to us to look after her now. If she needs a rest, we carry her. If she needs a hand, she has ours. If she needs ears, we've got four between us. Whatever she needs."

Lae'zel: "Shadowheart suffers. You might be surprised, but - it pains me to see."

Gale: "Poor Shadowheart. The gods are nothing if not vindictive in their vengeance."

Best lines here go to Karlach (again) and Wyll. So much love and support! And even Lae'zel!

Still, there's a fight ahead! We hurry back to Moonrise Tower, where there are fights ahead, battling our way to the top to get to Ketheric. Tae tries to extend mercy, understanding what happened to his wife; neither Ketheric nor Aylin are having it, and Ketheric strikes out. Tae and the others are saved with the Prism - and that, unfortunately, reveals that, yes, Tae has the Prism.

Whoops.

(I really like this cap the lighting is so pretty here.)

Big fight. Followed by big tentacle. Followed by big complaint.

Sorry Astarion you may need some new boots after that.

Lae'zel: "We must be ready to confront the elder brain. One presides over every ghaik colony." Astarion: "No problem. And what does this old brain look like?" Lae'zel: "A hovering mass of grey matter, sprouted with lethal tentacles and oozing cerebrospinal fluid?" Astarion, having a day: "Right!! Good!! Glad I asked!!!"

First up, a meeting with Chop. This is... depressing. Free at last, Chop.

Also free: kitty :) Welcome back, Us!

Also depressing: the fact that there are letters to the Absolute from children oh god what the fuck.

Over to the tadpoling centre, where we find Zariel's asset - Mizora herself. Who proceeds to say she'll free Wyll... within the next six months or so. Man c'mon.

To mixed approval (Shadowheart and Halsin's) and disapproval (Lae'zel and Astarion's), we also free the others in the tanks. This includes Zevlor, and Fist members - and a few fully-grown newborn Mind Flayers whoops.

Win the battle, talk to Zevlor to work out what the actual fuck happened. It's not pretty, but Tae tries to be understanding.

Another excursion, this time to some kind of lab. Get a neat sword! There are some interesting brain jars we can interact with, genuinely curious to see what response you'd get from the brain jars from the Nautilus. Oh well. Get a nice permanent boost to Int rolls!

Into the depths of the colony, then, where Gortash fled to. He's there, yes - as are Orin, a pale, creepy-looking woman, and... Enver Gortash, the one who betrayed Karlach to Zariel.

They reveal, then, the Absolute - an Elder Brain, controlled by an immensely powerful Netherese crown, controlled by the three stones the trio hold.

Gale prepares to carry out Mystra's orders; Tae is only just able to talk him down, convinced there's another way. (My graphics were not having it at this point.)

Gale: "Look at that crown. It radiates with power unlike anything I've ever seen. To have it… to hold… If only I could… But I can't… This is it. I must do as Mystra commands." Tae: "Gale, you cannot do this. You can't condemn us to death." Gale: "What choice do I have? More than just a goddess counts on my courage: whole worlds hang in the balance." Tae: "Trust me, Gale. We'll find another way." Gale: "I do trust you. More than myself right now. Perhaps even more than Mystra. I… I have no desire to end your life, you know that. To end it… To struggle on… It is a grave choice you're making for us both, but if it must be so - very well, I'll stand down to stand by you."

;_; Literally the only reason he doesn't kill himself at a goddess's command is because a friend asks him to. God that's so sad. (And I'm sure that crown thing won't come back in any way, I'm sure!)

Controlling the elder brain, they infect their prisoner - Duke Ravengard, Wyll's father. Orin and Gortash leave with the newly-infected Duke, ready to start the attack on Baldur's Gate, and that leaves us with Ketheric, and the newly imprisoned Aylin restoring his immortality. Time for a major battle to free Aylin and take Ketheric down!

Which succeeds, up until, well...

I call this cap 'well, that escalated'.

Anyway I'm really glad that I had the mod that let me have all nine characters (plus Aylin) fighting because the Ketheric-as-apostle monster thing had 181 HP. Aylin goes in on him to finish him off with extreme prejudice (Lae'zel, the closest at hand, had this expression I can only called 'scaroused'), Tae takes the stone from Ketheric's armour, and we finally meet the Dream Visitor in the flesh.

They reveal who the three are - Ketheric was the Chosen of Myrkul, Lord of Bones. From the way Orin spoke, she's a follower of Bhaal, God of Murder. And Gortash is a follower of Bane, God of Tyranny. This is what the Absolute is - an enslaved elder brain manipulated into service by the Chosen of the Dead Three.

So nbd!!

We leave the ship, get back to Moonrise Towers. Karlach is Not Pleased to learn Gortash's involvement. Which is. Understandable.

Yeah we're definitely going to kick his ass.

Gale's also having some thoughts - about that Netherese crown the elder brain was wearing. He decides they'll check out Sorcerous Sundries in Baldur's Gate. Still a bit concerned here, Gale!!

Wyll gives us our next destination - Wyrm's Rock fortress. All roads to Baldur's Gate lead to it - and it's also headquarters for the Flaming Fist, led by one Duke Ravengard. Probably a good idea to prevent him opening the doors for the Absolute's army! He also opens up about his past, about why he made a pact with Mizora. He was only seventeen at the time...

Karlach: "She never stops, does she. Not for a second."

Also at Moonrise Towers - Withers. He has... concerning things to say about their opponents.

Good to hear!!

Some happiness - a reunion between Aylin, and her lover, Isobel. With Isobel's father and Aylin's captor, Ketheric, now gone, each believing the other was dead, they can finally be together again <3

They head off to, er, "take succour in one another's bodies and words" ("Aylin 😳"), and we catch up with Alfira, who's here with a lot of the others from the Last Light. She wants to write a song for the kids to enjoy, but needs another Bard, and where will she find one of those?

Tae pretty much scruffs Astarion and shoves him Alfira-wards. God bless multiclass mods :)

Astarion earns 3g :)

We talk to Art Cullagh. He's doing better. Not entirely sure what he thinks of the modern-day Flaming Fist, but Duke Ravengard seems to be a good sort. He'll wait to see Thaniel when he fully wakes up, and then... yeah, who knows?

Back to camp! We have a lot of interesting conversations. One with Astarion, about what he plans to do with the ritual - he admits he's tempted, and if it means sacrificing his siblings...

Astarion: "I never saw myself as a banisher of shadows. I was always more a 'lurker in', historically." Tae: "I wanted to ask about Cazador's ritual. You must be thinking about it?" Astarion: "The thing that will decide my fate forevermore? Yes, it has been on my mind!! Why~?" Tae: "All that power - you must be tempted to take it for yourself." Astarion: "Well, of course I've thought about it. If I completed the ritual instead of Cazador, I'd get all that power. And I could walk in the sun without fear I'd turn into a mind flayer." Tae: "And the souls that need to be sacrificed?" Astarion: "I don't relish it, but my siblings lured thousands of people to their deaths over the years. I doubt Baldur's Gate would miss them. Of course, I don't even know if I could complete the ritual. It may be impossible - but it certainly is tempting."

In-character-wise, I kind of wanted to have Tae like... set up the acknowledgement that, yes, it's tempting. It also comes with a whopping cost. Just gotta think about that.

Talked to Karlach about Gortach. He is, in her words, an evil, evil bastard and we're going to kick his arse into the hells.

Talked to Halsin about Thaniel. He and Oliver are both recovering - what will happen next depends on them. They may return to be one - but Halsin kind of hopes they won't. It's always nice to have a friend. (An interesting note: Halsin says he has everything he wants, now, "But perhaps there is more than I want." Tae... does not touch that with a barge pole, because they've pretty firmly placed Halsin in the category of 'You remind me of my Grandpa :)' and they are Not Going There! Wyll's expressed interest, Halsin, go try him.)

Shadowheart is... doing okay.

She'll be okay <3

Conversations with Isobel, who talks about how she met Aylin, and Aylin, who is Extremely Dramatic, but also she's a demigod who just killed her tormentor of a hundred years and been reunited with her "mate most high, darling Isobel", so we'll allow it XD Aylin is Selûne's gift to aid the world in the fight against the Dead Three, which. Handy!

And onwards to Baldur's Gate! The Dream Visitor speaks to Tae again, instructing them to gather their allies, especially when they get to the city. "Baldur's Gate may not know it yet, but its fate is bound to ours."

One last obstacle before leaving Reithwin - a Githyanki patrol. We're warned by the artefact Voss left us, and are able to fight them off. Lae'zel gets very Intense.

"It is as we knew. My people have turned their blades against us. They will emerge from the shadows and descend from the skies. And we will grant them their only just fate: death."

I can't wait until she punches Vlaakith in the face.

Next stop: Act 3, and Baldur's Gate!

#ry plays bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers