Fandom Baldur's Gate 3: The Demonic and the Divine [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

Awakening was agony.

A headache pounded against the skull of the aasimar as she opened blood-red eyes onto a room that seemed like a laboratory. It was hot – terribly hot – and she saw shadows dance just out of the corner of her eye and suspected fire. A twist of her right wrist revealed it was bound, but the left was not. Luck, it seemed, had come through for her.

The red-headed woman shifted a bit, ignoring the strange red column that was in front of her, ignoring the fall of a black feather in her hair that would need to be purged, and turned her left hand to the task of getting the right out, as she determined her legs were also bound at the ankles. She saw a scalpel near, which blessedly hadn’t been knocked off the table that stood near the chitinous slab she found herself in.

It cut through the tendon-esque bond that held her arm, and then the ones at her ankles. She slid down the slanted slab, and her eyes took in the floor, which resembled flesh drawn tight over bulging veins, the grotesque pinkish hue not helping the imagery at all. ‘Where in the Hells am I?’ No memory came to answer.

No memory of the past night, or the day before, or…anything.

As the woman straightened up, what warmth and relief she’d briefly felt at escaping the bindings fled in the stark realization that she remembered very little about herself. “Amaranth….” The word was grounding, creating – something she knew, intuitively, had power. Words, sounds, all of that were tied into creation. She may not yet be able to speak her memories back into her mind, but she remembered her name.

She remembered, quite well, she used the power of sound, and she could remember a few locales – Elfsong, The Blushing Mermaid, Wyrm’s Rock – in Baldur’s Gate. She was either from there, or she visited often, but she didn’t have time to try and fit those disorganized thoughts into a coherent pattern.

She was in danger.

Something had strapped her down in here. ‘Someone….’ Her mind roared with the sensation of betrayal, as true – truer, somehow – than her own name. Well, when she figured it out, she’d make sure their end was agony. An image of torture racks flitted through her mind, warmth, familiarity, and a smile trickled onto her lips as she straightened up, and looked around at the horrors before her.

Others remained bound on slabs.

A mind flayer –

‘What.’

– was splayed out on the ground, not dead, but stunned. Amaranth didn’t have time to wait for it to regroup, as she stepped over to the body, put a foot to its neck, and jammed the scalpel through its eye, and quickly hacked it through the exposed brain matter as it cried out, psionic cries echoing and causing more pain in her head, but not for long enough to make a difference.

It was dead, and she could consider what to do. ‘That way is no good.’ Fire devoured one entryway, the scent of burnt flesh encasing the room from there. ‘I should know this, I should know this….’ There was that ringing familiarity that she should know why it smelled like rotten flesh, when this was obviously a room, and not….

Hells, could it be a living creature she was in?

“Ugh.” She got up, silver blood dripping from her hand as she approached the console that was at the head of all those tied down.

Illithid script was written upon more chitinous slabs that lingered over the controls, which appeared to be in a mess of veins and muscles, waiting for a command at just a touch. ‘Aggression. Purge. Unleash. I can…read it?’ She stared at the slabs with slow realization that somehow, she knew this script. She couldn’t remember learning it.

Then again, she couldn’t remember learning anything.

Amaranth swallowed back that sensation, and looked to the central red column, noticing then the way it wove nerves up the chairs into the bindings. That’s how the commands were given to those on the slab.

There was no certainty as to whether or not the people laying out would be any use. They seemed dazed by what happened to them, but Amaranth pressed unleash, and nearly buckled onto the button.

It wasn’t her hand that gave the command. As soon as her hand touched it, a psionic message shot right into her head, seeming to seek familiarity, and it found it.

Amaranth didn’t know how, she didn’t know why, but for a moment, all pain stilled, awaiting confirmation that this was what she wanted to do.

She willed the answer forward – yes – and the shackles unleashed each prisoner.

And they slid to the ground.

“Hey! Get up!” Amaranth walked around to the closest one and grasped his shoulders to shake him. His head lolled as he was moved about, and he offered no response, not even to the slap she gave him when her patience wore thin.

Nothing.

“Focáil!” the aasimar cursed, getting back to her feet to consider the other, former, prisoners.

Useless – but she didn’t want to go about this alone with a scalpel and what remained of her wits, which were fraying further down to her nerves, spiking panic as she found herself all but frozen to the spot she stood, desperately seeking anything – in mind or in reality – to give her a handle on what was going on.

There were pods, and her eyes skimmed over them without much hope. Those with occupants seemed to be in a similar state, whether it was the pod that did it, or the jarring crash that seemed to have set this thing on fire that concussed the occupants.

Perhaps she was too hasty in killing the mind flayer. ‘Just one, I just need one person….’

~***~

It was just his luck! The first time Gale Dekarios decided to leave his depression den in Waterdeep to try and get access to Sorcerous Sundries in Baldur’s Gate, he gets picked up by a nautiloid! Not exactly what the aspiring wizard was hoping to come across, no matter how fascinating the subject of illithid designs were – at a distance. This was, decidedly, not a distance, and he was even closer to their biological habits than he desired when a tadpole was plucked from a pool in the center of the room, and stuck into his eye.

He was hardly the only one moaning and wriggling about, trying to escape the pod that held him fast. An aasimar moved outside his pod, ending the life of the mind flayer, before apparently trying to help those bound to slabs. It would be a risk to reach out – but Gale was fairly certain the odds of her being a thrall were slim.

‘Breathe in.’

He focused himself. Without his staff, he didn’t have much to ground him, but he could do this. The weave was everywhere, even here, and he called upon it then to form a mage’s hand outside the containment he was locked into. The spectral, purple hand was a sight for sore eyes, and he smiled at his own ability having not left him.

Then nautiloid rocked just as it appeared and his head banged into the pod’s strange, quick-hardening mucus window. Gale really didn’t want to think long on that mucus part, and thankfully, thinking of anything for longer than a second was not permitted! The fire and the crashing about kept any thoughts of the fascination of the nautiloid’s biology to an extreme minimum.

He urged the mage’s hand towards the aasimar, and had it wave, drawing her attention. He curled its finger and hovered it back to his pod, the woman following after it. “Hello! I would be ever so appreciative if you could help me get out of this pod!” He considered possibly using fire against it, but the dragon’s flame didn’t seem to dissolve the pod around him, so that didn’t seem the best idea. Perhaps he could concoct a ritual to step through dimensions and get himself clear, but his mind was a bit fried at the moment to think of one. “It’s not exactly my preferred coffin, that’s a bit more, well, wooden.” A little joke. Probably not appropriate, but maybe it would help the stranger think kindly of him.

Thankfully, he saw the hint of a smile cross her lips, and that made him relax. His joke landed! Enough!

She drew closer and began to inspect the pod, and he saw her hands reach out, though he didn’t have a good angle to see where. However, it was definitely somewhere on the pod, as the mucus-lid began to lift. “Ah!” he quickly pushed his own hands against it to help, neither of them seeming inclined to strength.

Then, there was a pop.

The lid flew open and the woman fell back, as Gale fell forward, landing awkwardly atop her. He gave a sigh of relief before realizing the situation, though she was already moving, her adjustments causing him to move to allow the escape from underneath him, “My apologies, ah—I’m Gale of Waterdeep.”

“Amaranth,” she said, distracted, as she got up and then offered him a hand, which he gratefully took. “Do you know where to go?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, “but something tells me towards the helm would be the best idea. We may be able to find a way to direct the ship into a, well, best case scenario crash!”

Amaranth hummed, but nodded, “All right,” but before either of them could set up, the ship heaved and shuddered from a weight. Claws tore through the side, and both of them could see a large, red dragon outside. Gale wasn’t sure he could handle a red dragon in his current state, so he considered spells to weave him and his newfound friend invisible, before the dragon was suddenly gone.

The starry night with the familiar constellations of Faerun were outside.

And the ship split from where the dragon clawed into it, breaking open beneath them, spilling them from within. Gale let out a startled shout, and clawed at the air. His clawing hands were caught by Amaranth, who had all the panic of a trapped animal in her eyes, even if her body language didn’t show it.

What was a wizard to do? Spells entered and left his mind as quickly as they came, although he thought, for a moment, he spied a waypoint. He felt the magic of it – so different from the weave! – and then heard a song.

“Are we not threaded by the same weave of the wind?
Terra firma and unparted sea?
Whether by accident or fortune, you and I
We are matter and it matters….”

‘A Bard!’ Gale realized as he felt the familiar sensation of himself lightening, feather fall called on a song, slowing their fall, making it gentler for them both.

“Thank—”

He couldn’t finish.

Despite the spell, something still suddenly gripped them both before they hit the ground. He though the spell may have ended too damn soon – but it was like he was yanked up suddenly, and held.

And then, nothing but darkness.

Well, darkness and purrs, though he only barely registered that latter, as Tara found him and his fallen companion alongside the wreckage, fingers still entwined.

 

[cleopat]

Upon awakening, Marisol swore she had been dragged to Avernus. Fire surrounded her, and from her inclined position in the open pod, she could see the bodies of a few mindflayers, completely unmoving.

With a groan, Marisol tried to step out of the pod, but she collapsed to the floor as her knees buckled underneath her. What happened? She could last remember walking to Sorcerous Sundries in Baldur’s Gate, and next thing, she was waking up in that room that vaguely resembled flesh and veins.

She didn’t have much time to consider where she was, as whatever she was in was shaking all around her with explosions that could be heard in the distance. And the way the entire room just lurched…a ship?

Shaking her head, Marisol headed for the only door she could see in the room, which opened in a manner that reminded her of the very fleshy design of the interior. Through the corridors she passed by other dead bodies, some mindflayers, others dead prisoners still strapped to their pods or tables. She couldn’t stop to think about the dead as she was likely to join them soon if the ship she was on was truly destined for a fiery crash.

In another seemingly empty room, Marisol realized with hope that she heard a woman crying out. “Someone help me out of this thing!” The voice was muffled, but close. Nearby, she spotted the pod that trapped a half-elf woman, very much conscious and aware of her surroundings.

“Hold on, I’ll help you out of there!” Marisol called out to the woman with panic. How did one open one of those things? She didn’t have much time to find the button.

“Over there, on the console, I think that’s how it opens,” the dark haired woman spoke. Marisol looked over the console. There were strange markings on it that she couldn’t read, but they felt…familiar.

Marisol channeled her arcane knowledge. “Hurry!” the woman called out. She wanted to snap at the woman and tell her to be patient, that she was doing the best she could, but she remained focused on the console. Her arcane knowledge soon spoke to her, and the markings made sense.

The pod opened, and the woman fell to the ground.

~~~

Shadowheart had hoped that she wouldn’t meet her end trapped in some pod on a mindflayer ship that was imploding all around her, but when the blonde half-elf ran into the room she was in, Shadowheart held onto hope she would have many more years to live.

And if the woman couldn’t free her from the pod, Shadowheart would put her faith into Shar for whatever happened next.

But she succeeded! Shadowheart could scarcely celebrate as her legs gave out from under her when the pod opened. How long was she trapped in there?

“Can you stand?” Marisol asked her, kneeling beside her with a hand out for assistance.

Shadowheart nodded and looked at the hand. With some hesitation, she took Marisol’s hand and slowly got to her feet. “Thank you for not leaving me behind. My name’s Shadowheart.”

Marisol smiled. “Marisol. Now, I’m trying to get to the helm to see if I can land this ship.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

They ran down more corridors, going through more of the fleshy doorways. The last one revealed a battle of cambions and mindflayers. It was hard to gauge who was winning, but they could only hope that they remained distracted by one another as both women ran to the controls.

They weren’t so lucky, as one mindflayer turned to them. “Keep going!” Shadowheart yelled at Marisol, desperate to be heard over all the noise of chaos around them. “I’ll keep them distracted!” She launched a fireball at the Mindflayer with another one already prepared.

Marisol continued to the panel, only pausing once to send a shock to one of the walking brain things that followed her. She grasped the controls but was unable to direct the ship to a safe landing.

Another harsh shake of the ship, another explosion, and it sounded as if the ship was tearing apart all around her. She turned to try and find Shadowheart, but something large hit her head, causing her to lose her footing and fly out of the newly ripped open hole in the ship.

Flying? No. Falling. Marisol was falling. Her head hurt too much to try and focus on a flying or feather fall spell. ‘Is this how my life is to end?’

Her fall stopped abruptly, a few feet above the solid ground. Did one of her attempts to find a spell actually worked? The next second she continued her plunge to the ground.

Then darkness.

Marisol wouldn’t know until she woke up later, but the dark-haired woman she saved fell just a few feet away from her, saved from the same mysterious force. Equally as unconscious.

The one thing Marisol knew upon waking up was pain in her head, and aches and pains all over her body. ‘Okay, so I know I’m somehow alive.’ There was too much pain to be anything such.

She was content to lay there for the time being. Or until the pain in her head faded a little.

 

[Lucyfer]

Gale stirred first, to warmth on his back, warmth in his fingers. It was an odd, familiar sensation. How many times had he woken entwined with Mystra, fingers laced in hers? Tara was definitely not apart of that, however, and Tara’s purring alerted him to something wrong with the situation, even before the hard ground and lack of a feather pillow did. Gale opened his eyes slowly, letting the input of sensations inform of what to expect.

He was outside.

There was water somewhere nearby.

There was also burning meat.

His fingers were entwined in pale ones, red hair splayed across the ground like blood. ‘The aasimar.’ He had been on a nautiloid – she sung a spell that may well have saved them both. He did not know what caught them at the end, but it seemed to have rendered them both unconscious. “Tara? You can get off me now.”

The tressym leapt deftly off his back and walked around to where his face was, as he sat up, releasing the woman, and rubbing at his forehead where it had slammed into the mucus. His chest throbbed. Hunger swelled and almost caused him to keel over. “Tch. Still not taking good care of yourself, Mr. Dekarios. Whatever would you do without me?” Tara pulled at a ribbon wrapped around her neck with her teeth, and a ring dropped to the ground before him.

“Ah—thank you!” he reached for it, and pressed the ring to his chest. The netherese energy surged, and engulfed the ring in its magic, unmaking the weave that sung into the enchanted object, and causing the hunger to fade. He let out a relieved sigh, “I’d be nowhere without you, Tara,” he concurred, “nor without her, for that matter,” but he hadn’t the strength to carry her to safety, and he was concerned if waking her would cause harm. “Is she well?”

“From what I can gather,” Tara’s tail swished, “there’s a town not far from here,” Tara took a seat, “if she saved you, I will wait here to see her safe while you fetch someone to help with her.”

“Thank you,” he said, “but I think I’ll try to wake her first,” he reached to shake her shoulder, “Amaranth – Amaran—”

~***~

Blonde hair wove between Amaranth’s fingers as she sat behind a child of pale skin, and dancing rivers of red upon that flesh. Changeling flesh. The bloody red had been upon her clothes, upon her hair, upon her body, but now the child sat sullen and wet, ghostly eyes gazing ahead into nothing as Amaranth’s fingers continued to dance over the blonde threads.

Helena was dead.

Orin lived.

Helena’s body was now out of sight, though Orin had screamed that she wanted to keep it. Who was Amaranth to deny her sister such a dolly? Even so, Amaranth had it removed as she cleaned Orin of the sin, something deep in her own heart breaking.

Deep enough that it spurred a hum, and Orin’s head tilted slightly at the sound.

Words.

“So insignificant
Sleeping dormant deep inside of me
Are you hiding away, lost under the sewers?
Maybe flying high in the clouds?
Perhaps you're happy without me….”

Orin shivered, and drew her knees up against her chest.

“So many seeds have been sown in the field
And who could sprout up so blessedly?
If I had died, I would have never felt sad at all
You will not hear me say "I'm sorry"
Where is the light? Wonder if it's weeping somewhere….

Here's a lullaby to close your eyes, goodbye
It was always you that I despised
I don't feel enough for you to cry, oh well
Here's a lullaby to close your eyes, goodbye….”

“Amaranth,” someone called, as she reached the end of the braid, “Sarevok would like to see Lady Orin.”

Orin tried to move, but Amaranth pulled her right back down by the braid. “Let me go!” Orin screeched. “Letmegoletmegoletmego!”

“Sarevok can see the Lady Orin tomorrow,” perhaps it was wrong to keep Orin from her loving grandfather. Hateful father. But Sarevok had just lost his daughter. His wife. The family tree truly was a bush over there, and Orin, blissfully ignorant. Orin, unaware Sarevok had ordered Helena to kill her. No, Amaranth would take the child under her protection, “today, she meets with Bhaal, personally.”

Orin’s screeching changed, her ghostly eyes looked to the aasimar with surprise and affection all at once, “Truly?”

Amaranth touched her face, smiling into it, “Of course. You have passed your test, Orin. It is time you hear Father’s true voice,” her gaze flitted up to the bhaalist who disturbed them.

“Amaranth!”

Someone else was calling.

“Amaran—”

~***~

Gale’s wrist was caught, and pulled. He was pulled with it, losing the balance he’d had even sitting. He caught it with his free hand, but for one horrible moment, he thought he was about to lose his arm. Amaranth was looking at him with such…hatred, such hunger, that it pierced him to the marrow.

Confusion fell over it, and he made a mental note to never wake her again, as she let go of his arm, and sat up, looking around the wreckage in silence, before her eyes fell on Tara. “What….”

“This is Tara,” Gale introduced, “Tara, this is Amaranth. She says there’s a town not far from here. We can…orient ourselves, I believe,” he got to his feet, and he almost offered his hand to her – but hesitated and let her get up on her own instead. “Tara knows the way.”

“Yes, although, Mr. Dekarios, it is not without dangers. There seemed to be some others that survived the crash, including some, euck, illithids and walking brains.”

Amaranth couldn’t discern the words. She was certain she could, if she tried, but her head was throbbing. The memory that had played over in her head was gone, and she had no better sense of who she was than before – a trait Gale didn’t seem to share, and she was hesitant to confess it immediately.

“Tara says there are some dangers ahead, but nothing I’m sure we can’t handle!”

‘Speak for yourself.’ Amaranth, however, numbly nodded, and found the scalpel in a pocket. She took it out, just in case, and let Gale lead…well, let Tara lead, as Gale followed her.

 

[cleopat]

Marisol wasn’t aware of how much time had passed before she slowly sat up before making her way to her feet. Her head still pounded, and it felt like some blood caked in her hair, but she was alive, and she could move all of her body parts. That was the important part.

She was…near a beach. Okay, she could work with that. There were no other discernible landmarks, so she couldn’t rely on her knowledge of maps to figure out where she was. ‘Okay, so I just need to walk until I find something.’

There was movement from the corner of her eye. Marisol looked over, and there was Shadowheart, stirring from unconsciousness. There was a small object next to her on the ground, but as soon as Shadowheart saw it, she grabbed it and put it away.

Happy to see a familiar face, Marisol walked over to the woman and held out a hand for her. “Hey, we both seem to have taken quite the fall. I don’t know where we are, but I think it may be best we stick together until we can learn more.”

Shadowheart stared at the hand with some confusion for a second, before her features relaxed and she took Marisol’s hand. “Thank you.” Shadowheart stood up, pausing for a second for her head to stop spinning. “And thank you, again, for saving me back on the ship.”

Marisol nodded. “Of course. Now, which way do you think we should go? I am not sure at all where we are.” After consideration, they headed off in a direction that had felt right to them.

“So are you from Baldur’s Gate?” Marisol wondered.

Shadowheart hesitated, her eyes darting to the half-elf. “Yeah…I am.”

There was obviously something she was hiding, but Marisol didn’t press or act suspicious. Everyone had a story. As long as they survived, she was fine.

Some time passed. They engaged in light conversation on their path, passing by abandoned ruins and strawn debris from the ship along the way. Eventually, they heard noise that definitely came from another living creature, followed by more noise. Cries for assistance. “Should we see what’s going on?” Shadowheart asked, noting their own haggard appearance and fatigue.

Marisol nodded. “They may be able to help us out.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Smalltalk would have been normal, acceptable, even. Yet, Amaranth didn’t speak, and Gale found himself uncertain if he ought to approach the matter. In the end, his inability to keep quiet won out, “So, where are you from, Amaranth?”

“Baldur’s Gate,” if she wasn’t, she knew it well enough that locales still sprang to mind, even if she could remember very little about what she did in them. “You said you were from Waterdeep?” She redirected, but Gale took it in stride, “What’s it like?”

“Well! It’s the City of Splendors! The Crown of the North! It’s rather similar to the Gate, in that regards. It boasts a cosmopolitan locale, merchants and artisans from all over come to visit Waterdeep, and we get some of the best bards and actors to put on grand shows. It’s lively,” and as the familiarity of all that liveliness struck him, melancholy struck him as he thought of his mother.

Worried, no doubt, about him.

Unaware of what was going on. “I hope to return there, sans tadpole.”

“Tadpole…?”

“Mr. Dekarios, you do not mean to say—”

“I’m afraid so, Tara – an illithid tadpole resides within my skull, and I’d quite like to get it out before it changes me for the worst. I mean, can you imagine me with tentacles?”

“I could not imagine you with a beard, but here we are.”

“Tara!”

“Wait—tadpole? I have a tadpole?”

“Ah—most likely,” Gale softened, “they may have put it in your head when you were unconscious, or perhaps you’ve simply…blacked it out. It wasn’t a pleasant experience,” Gale made a face, “but I admit I am not sure, I did not witness it occur.” He supposed he could try to test it, but he wasn’t sure how to begin with that, either, and was distracted from it by the sounds of raised voices and banging. “Tara….”

“Well! It wasn’t happening when I flew over.”

Gale paused, but Amaranth moved forward – no, crept was a better word. He saw how low she got to the ground, and how she moved was completely without sound. He eyed the scalpel in her hand. A…poor weapon choice, but one she seemed to know how to use. Paired with this move to stealth so easily, he wondered….

He tried to get low himself, but his knees cracked and complained, so he opted to stick as best he could to other objects, and round them carefully, as they drew closer to a wooden gate.

Around the rather large, jutting rock he hid around, he was able to see some tieflings on the gate, and three others below.

“Stop your yelling! What’s going on?” shouted a red tiefling from above. No doubt the one in charge of who went in and out of the door.

“The goblins! They’re after us! You gotta let us in!” One of the people on the ground shouted with clear panic evident in his voice.

“Then you led them straight to us and our doom!” The tiefling spat, irritated, “Where is the druid?”

The man standing in front of the wall grabbed an arrow from out of a shield and pointed it up, as if that was somehow a threat, or a commanding gesture, “Please, there’s no—”

A war-horn sounded. No time, indeed. Gale could see goblins with a warg coming from his left, and he ducked further behind the rocky wall.

Amaranth spoke at his side, though he couldn’t make out the words. A whisper, but it evidently carried power: as the hobgoblin suddenly burst out into shrieking laughter and fell prone on his side.

Gale acted, recognizing they were apparently going to help the people, “Tormentum!” red missiles launched themselves from his fingertips, slamming into a few of the rushing goblins, splitting their attention.

 

[cleopat]

The two half-elves remained low to the ground, partially obscured by a couple of trees and thick bushes. They saw the tieflings first on top of the gate, then noticed the others on the ground in quite the panic.

A warhorn sounded, and chaos unfolded. Arrows flew, magic was evident. Two additional figures joined the fight, and Marisol swore she had seen one of them before.

There were only so many aasimar in Baldur’s Gate.

But there was no time for contemplation on familiar faces.

Shadowheart threw out a guiding bolt on one of the goblins, hitting it clearly. Marisol conjured and threw an ice knife at the warg, hitting it while creating an icy surface surrounding it, sending several goblins sprawling to the ground as they lost their balance.

“Are there anymore?” one of the guards asked as the last goblin fell.

“Hurry! Open the gate before there are!” Marisol yelled at them. The tiefling at the top hurried to raise the gate, and once there was enough space, Marisol and Shadowheart ran through, following after the ones who had initially called for the gate to open.

Well, didn’t that day just get better and better.

 

[Lucyfer]

Violence broke out quickly, and was just as swiftly dealt with when two additional fighters joined – a cleric of some sort, and yet another spellcaster. Gale recognized a sorcerer when he saw one; that prickling of envy was only tempered by the fact he knew how skilled he was without being born with magic.

And yet, his magic was not what it used to be. The illithid tadpole that had dug into his mind had disrupted his strength. He suspected the same might be true for Amaranth, though he wouldn’t make a judgment call – he saw the way she tried to cast, only for her voice to suddenly die. She gripped at her own throat in surprise at the muteness.

Whatever bardic power she had, she was used to using it more frequently.

Thankfully, they didn’t need to get in close. The arrows and other fighters helped put the goblins down, and they were able to make a sprint for the gate and get through in time to be sheltered from any additional assault.

Gale touched Amaranth’s arm and led her aside, “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward a bit.

She had her hand around her throat and shook her head, looking panicked. “Okay,” Gale said, “take a breath. Exhale slowly,” he encouraged, “Listen to my voice. There’s no weave in this. There’s no magic. You can speak without channeling magic in your voice. Breathe in again,” he wasn’t a bard, but he understood how it worked; he’d studied the idea of it, given there were theories about creation stemming from sound alone.

Amaranth seemed to listen, she shut her eyes and followed his voice, breathing, listening, until her exhale had sound to it, and she opened her eyes. “There. I believe our guests have decided to hamper our abilities. I’m not quite as strong as I once was, either,” he laughed it off, but it did bother him quite a bit. He’d already suffered some magical loss from the netherese orb, now to be dealt another blow? “We should find out if there are any healers here – ah!”

He suddenly remembered the cleric and saw the dark-haired woman from outside, “Excuse me!” he approached, lifting his hand in greeting, and acknowledging the other woman at her side with a smile, “Hello, sorry to disrupt, I’m Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, in a bit of a pinch.”

Amaranth followed, as did Tara, assessing the two at his side.

There was something…darkly familiar about the woman with the dark hair. Something that made her want to laugh, even if she couldn’t place it. And not a good laugh. There was malice behind the thought she couldn’t pull forward.

But the other woman, the blonde?

She saw recognition in her eyes, and then, an immense pressure filled her head and she keeled forward as the tadpole within her head forced a connection.

Vanilla and rosewood. A shadowed face, but lights all around him. Lights dancing off the metal on his fingers. She saw herself in the background, impossible to ignore with the way her dress showed her marbled skin, red lines criss-crossing her body, and a lyre in her hands.

“…our daughter, Marisol Regenfall,” someone was saying, and the eyes lifted to a face far clearer in memory, illuminated with the love of a daughter. “Marisol will be taking over the business, so we hope you’ll treat her—”​

The memory banished with another sickening lurch, and Amaranth found herself steadied by Gale. “This is…by far…the worst day I’ve ever experienced….” At least, she hoped.

She couldn’t remember.

 

[cleopat]

The other two fighters stopped near them. Marisol could feel the Weave surround the man in a way that showed it he was a wizard. And the aasimar…Well, she thought that she looked familiar!

She could vaguely recall seeing the aasimar around the parties of the upper echelon of Baldur’s Gate, playing beautiful melodies on her lyre, while her voice enchanted those around her.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for my day,” Shadowheart said, smoothing out her armor.

“Tell me about it.” What she wouldn’t give to be back home, in a warm and soapy bath to relax her sore muscles and to clean the dried blood out of her hair.

Neither spoke about how they felt that they couldn’t access the full potential of their power. Both felt frightened by that, and wondered what it meant. What if they needed that access? And yet something akin to a brick wall prevented them from accessing that power.

At least there was something.

The wizard was the first one to approach them, with the aasimar following behind. And a…tressym?

An immense pain radiated in her head, a pain far different than the one she experienced earlier as a result of a blunt object hitting her hard. She stumbled forward as she clutched her head with a groan. This one brought forth a vivid memory of a familiar room.

Marisol saw herself with her parents. A man draped in an ornate coat stood in front of them, a man she soon recognized as Lord Enver Gortash, someone her parents were trying very hard to suggest marriage to. Unexpected rage simmered deep within her.

She looked down. There was a lyre in her hands.

The present came rushing back with a jerk. She gasped and dropped to one knee. Shadowheart came up behind her with a concerned touch on her shoulder. “What the hell was that?” The memory was very real, and she would say it was her own, except from the different perspective.

 

[Lucyfer]

“Ah dear,” Gale sighed, “I do not suppose either of you were on that ship?” He didn’t wait for an answer, he knew, “That would be our new little friends,” he tapped his head, “connecting to each other. Not exactly what we want to have going on,” he looked a bit disappointed, “I suppose that means you are not a cleric versed in removing illithid tadpoles?” He still sounded hopeful, though.

Amaranth had regrouped, taking in what Gale said of what happened – and of the cleric. Amaranth’s face screwed up in confusion at that, “Since when are Sharrans known as healers?” She couldn’t help but ask, knowing, without truly realizing or understanding why she knew. It came like language itself.

Gale, however, couldn’t help but let out a startled gasp, “A Sharran?” he said it as if it were a high crime, which, Amaranth supposed it could be seen that way. She found she had no strong opinion.

A bit of mild anger, some malice, but that felt more personalized, not generalized.

Gale stepped back, brows furrowed, trying to see what he failed to identify. He saw the moon iconography, but that was just as easily associated with Selune! “How do you know this? Do you know her?”

Amaranth shook her head, “It’s the circlet, that’s a common symbol of Shar.”

As if anything of Shar was common since her presence had to be so hidden in Baldur’s Gate that even her practitioners hid themselves in the ‘House of Grief’ rather than announce what they were loud and clear. They were even more reviled than the Bitch Queen.

Of course, when you devastated an entire landscape under a curse, that tended to happen.

 

[cleopat]

After standing back up, Marisol and Shadowheart both looked at each other. They had illithid tadpoles in their heads, and with that knowledge, they both remembered the mindflayers forcing that tadpole into their eyes before it slithered its way further inside their minds.

They were going to turn into mindflayers.

Shadowheart was about to confirm for Gale that no, she unfortunately did not know how to remove them, but Amaranth spoke first.

And what she said made Shadowheart freeze and Marisol’s eyes widen.

‘...the circlet, that’s a common symbol of Shar.’ She subconsciously moved a hand over the circlet, as if it wasn’t too late to hide it. Her eyes flickered between Marisol, Gale, and Amaranth, carefully considering her next words. She didn’t want to lose potential allies already! That could be life or death at this point.

Marisol was no sympathizer of Shar, but worshipping a reviled deity herself, she felt a certain way as Shadowheart was unexpectedly outed like that. “Regardless of whom she worships, we’ve been through a lot together just today, and we’d promised we’ll help each other. Now it looks like we need to help one another get rid of this tadpole.”

Shadowheart sent her a thankful smile. “There must be a healer here, right?”

 

[Lucyfer]

The cleric attempted to cover the circlet, and Amaranth was starting to understand why by Gale’s reaction, and even the way that Marisol responded. Shar wasn’t well liked. Amaranth knew that, and yet, she hadn’t expected much of a reaction. She wasn’t sure why it felt like something so small in her mind, when it was clearly something the others felt some way about.

Gale’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as Marisol suggested moving on without confronting this. Shar worshippers were murderers! He made no such promise to help a Sharran! However, as he considered the natures of the divine, his mind went back to Mystra…a good deity. ‘Well, she is good. You just…made a very poor decision.’

Shar wanted nothing.

Literally, nothing.

“I suspect we could use the help, regardless,” Amaranth, however, didn’t make it a solid agreement, waiting on Gale to wrap his head around the prospect.

He huffed, “Far be it from me to judge another’s choice in goddess,” he spoke from a well of experience, heavy as it was, “but I hope there’s some light for you, amongst all that darkness. Shar has a reputation for snuffing out her greatest devotees,” that, too, was spoken with experience. That he knew what it was to be snuffed by a goddess.

That he hoped the woman would see before it was too late, “As it is, we can use even Shar’s help. The secrets of illithid’s are wrapped in darkness. Perhaps she will help to uncover this secret for us. So long as you don’t go for the throat of any Selunite we meet on sight, I believe we’ll…manage. So, let's...work together to find a healer."

 

[cleopat]

Shadowheart didn’t appreciate the way Gale spoke about her and her goddess. He was wrong about her! Shar nurtured her, and cared for her, when no one else did. Shar loved her, and she loved Shar. “One day you’ll understand.” He’ll understand how wrong he is!

“Okay!” Marisol said, clasping her hands together. “Now that that is settled, I saw people go down this path.” She started down a path, and soon saw a cavernous entrance up ahead.

Before she reached it, yelling could be heard. A tiefling and one of the soldiers from earlier were yelling. “You could’ve brought the entire horde of goblins upon our doorstep!”

The older tiefling looked like he was about to punch the human. Not wanting further violence when it wasn’t needed, and recognizing that the tiefling may be able to direct them to the right place, Marisol hurried forward, “What is going on here?” They paused and looked over at her and her companions following her.

“Wasn’t there already enough violence outside the gate? We shouldn’t be bringing it inside.”

Of course, Marisol was happy to let them continue to yell at one another, as long as she had the chance to talk to the tiefling.

 

[Lucyfer]

Amaranth followed, but at the distraction of the argument, she simply…walked around it. The tieflings arguing with the human weren’t going to give her any answers, and she wasn’t sure why Marisol opted to involve herself. She saw a market sloping downwards, and a grove off to her right.

‘Market first….’ Healers might be peddling their wares, so that seemed the best idea.

Gale didn’t follow her, though he did take note that she opted to just abandon them. He almost sighed at it, but his attention was drawn to the argument only too quickly as Marisol interjected herself into it.

“Tell that to the dead at the gate,” the tiefling said to Marisol, eyes never leaving the human.

“Shut it, horns. I’d be—”

“There is no need for racism here!” Gale interjected, “and no need for additional violence. It won’t bring the dead back, it won’t solve the problem which…is about a druid?”

The tiefling huffed.

The human stepped back.

“Halsin,” the tiefling said, “and Liam are missing.”

“They were both caught.”

“They could reveal the location of the grove to the goblins. There are children here. You’ve endangered everyone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather I have turned back and killed Liam and Halsin?”

The tiefling’s fist clenched.

 

[cleopat]

Shadowheart noticed how Amaranth continued on to where she could see some people selling their wares. She followed right behind her, opting to not stay with the argument. She didn’t know what to say to her…but something had to be said.

“Hey!” Shadowheart realized she didn’t know the woman’s name. She caught up to the aasimar, falling in line beside her. “Regarding what happened back there…”

She paused, unsure of what to say next. Shadowheart was mindful of those around them, in case someone had curious ears. Not many would be as understanding of her goddess as her companions have been, though Gale was still questionable.

“Can we keep that secret just between us, and the other two?” No need to mention Shar in front of outsiders. “I try and keep that mysterious aura going,” she joked.

~~~

Marisol hardly noticed that the other two women went ahead, but she did glance at Gale, appreciative that someone was there with her, agreeing that there needed to be no further violence.

If they needed a healer desperately, it would be best that others weren’t sent to the healer as well as a result of a fight within the Grove.

“We both know that Halsin would never give up the location of the Grove,” the human continued, “but if Liam does? Then that’s on him.” He shifted on his feet.

“No goblin survived to report back to the camp,” Marisol pointed out.

The human shook his head. “You’re a paladin, right? We know where the goblin horde is. Go take them by surprise or something. She’s right. No goblin survived to report back, so no damage done.”

The tiefling seethed, and the human took his chance to walk away before further escalation.

“He seems rather pleasant,” Marisol said. “Now, I don’t mean to change the subject, but the situation is dire. We are in need of a healer.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Amaranth slowed to a stop to let the cleric catch up, and listened silently to her request not to mention Shar. ‘Have you considered not wearing the circlet announcing who you are?’ then again, neither Gale nor Marisol recognized it. Perhaps it was not as common a symbol as she thought.

“Very well. You may want to reconsider your attire though, if I recognized you,” although why did she know about Shar well enough? Did she worship Shar herself? No, something told her that amused malice wasn't from being a devotee.

“I'm Amaranth,” she introduced, “I apologize for…well, presuming this was an open secret,” she offered. “I bear you no ill will for it, for what's it worth.”

She really didn't.

Even if she wasn't a fan, having lost her memories and resenting the concept of loss on the whole.

~***~

The tiefling was certainly not relaxed. The humans and half elf had no respect for the danger they were in. They just shrugged off Liam telling everyone! Not to mention, the druids were trying to oust everyone.

He huffed as he was asked about a healer. They'd helped defend the grove, but he saw no injuries on them. Still, he didn't question it, worn down with the responsibility of everyone's safety and no one giving a damn, “The druids may have one in their ranks,” he said, distracted, “since you helped the Grove they may see you, but they're not keen on outsiders.”

Gale furrowed his brows together, “I gather there's more going on with this Halsin missing. Care to share?”

“Yes – Halsin is the leader here, but in his absence, the druids are performing a ritual. All outsiders have to be removed,” he sighed, “we don't have much time….” And the threat of goblins would kill them all.

 

[cleopat]

Shadowheart frowned and looked down at her attire. It showed her devotion to her Lady! Changing her attire to hide that felt so very wrong. And no one had surmised she was a Shar worshipper yet, until Amaranth put it together.

She still approached the other woman with caution, but names and apologies were a nice start. “Thank you, I appreciate that.” Shadowheart relaxed some, sensing no deceit or trickeries with Amaranth.

“I’m Shadowheart.” She wouldn’t offer a hand to shake. “Are you looking to buy something in particular?” She gestured to the market near them.

Maybe she would consider buying a cheap set of alternative clothing, just in case. But she did know that they would need food before daylight fell, and buying enough food for the group felt like a decent peace offering.

~~~

Marisol frowned with that information. “Force you all out when there are goblins hunting these woods?” She didn’t know their numbers, or how many children they had, but she did know goblins were ruthless. If the entire group didn’t know how to fight, then many of them would perish.

“Maybe we can talk to these druids for you and see if we can convince them to let everyone stay, at least until it is safer out there.”

The tiefling sighed. “You are welcome to try, though the druid in charge in Halsin’s absence, Kagha, can be quite ruthless in her actions she sees as protecting her own.”

Marisol frowned. While she could understand wanting to protect your own to an extent, putting the lives of many others in jeopardy as a result is too cruel. “Where is this Kagha?”

The tiefling pointed down a path. “Go that way until you come to the grove. She’ll be in an enclave off to the side of that grove.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Amaranth shook her head at the query. Unlike Shadowheart, she wasn't blessed to be spared armor, weapons, or gold. She couldn't expect to trade for anything. “No, but sometimes healers peddle wares. I wanted to look for aid for our situation.”

The problems of lack of money, food, and much else would come later.

Perhaps her memory would be back by then.

“You can join me,” but she wasn't doing anything special. Shadowheart could perform her own search elsewhere, as well. They'd cover more ground that way, but she wasn't blind to the potential issues of splitting up, either.

They could be in danger. They were in unfamiliar territory.

And Shadowheart was an enemy to many.

~***~

“Thank you. We'll see what we can find,” Gale said. They'd also see if the druids had a healer who could help them out, as he stepped back and looked around, “ought we to find our wayward companions first, it shall we check on this situation without them, miss…?”

Had she introduced herself? Was the tadpole making his memory slip?

Either way, he would allow her to judge if they should pursue the Sharran and Amaranth first. It might be good to let them be – they could be having an important discussion on discretion. Even if Gale was glad to know what he was dealing with Shadowheart, he suspected she wasn't so grateful about that.

At least she knew her Lady was disliked. Now if only she could understand why….