What are you doing? Stand back! Now!
I'm interested in the procedure, actually. Please, go ahead.
Booyahg - the goblin word for magic. Primitive to a fault, but not entirely without merit.
Don't worry too much. A handful of powerful spells go a long way.
Surely you should be reserving your foot for more deserving foes? That poor creature was harmless!
This grove is like a cauldron about to boil over. I say we check in on the child - make sure she comes to no harm.
I've heard that name before. A young man, yes? Lives in Ramazith's Tower in the Upper City?
Word in Waterdeep has it he's a bit of a cad. But you say he's an accomplished wizard?
In that case, I'd very much appreciate it if you could arrange an introduction should we reach the city.
Merely planning ahead. Besides, never hurts to befriend a wizard.
Hold. Give diplomacy a chance to do its job.
Good. Let's focus on the girl first. We can settle with the snake later.
Hold on! It's not too late to settle this without bloodshed.
I think you should, yes. No harm in trying the diplomatic route.
We've our problems, granted, but there might be some merit in shutting down a local conflict, no?
What are you doing? That's no way to treat a book!
That fellow had a tadpole in his head, and they consider him blessed? Chosen? What madness is this?
He won't be able to help us no - unless he happens to have a cure on his corpse.
I have a bad feeling that dead elf is Halsin.
I have a bad feeling that dead elf is Halsin. He can't help us now.
Let's try to be diplomatic, shall we? Goblins don't come by the handfuls, but by the dozens.
Down in the pits', no less. Sounds ominous among creatures that love bloodsports. Better step to it.
Quick thinking! At least there's a silver lining to having yourself horribly scarred for life.
Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I've just lost all respect for you.
Well! I've never seen sleight of tongue quite like that before.
I feel I should warn you that the average goblin foot is host to some two dozen toe-curling diseases.
Courtesy is quite wasted on this fellow, I see.
I hope you learned your lesson, young man!
Mercy is not your strong suit, is it?
How about you make him kiss your feet next? Pungent poetic justice.
Well... So much for my previous sentiment.
Loss holds hands with grief - even among goblins.
The tadpole stirs. It recognises its master...
Charged with magic? Perhaps that explains the ease with which these goblins submit to True Souls.
Whoa! There are a lot of guts to go around in this place. Are you sure you...? Never mind. Too late.
The artefact is... protecting us? And not a moment too soon.
My brain is bursting from my temples...
That's an unusual artefact you have there, Shadowheart. A most unlikely protector...
Your hide, your choice. Not quite my cup of tea though.
Shouldn't be too much trouble. There will be plenty of bark, but little bite left with their leadership gone.
What's going on? Something's amiss!
It's that bloody mask. Take it off. Now!
Gods - what are you doing? Take off that mask, right bloody now!
Not only would this be a vile deal, it would be folly to trust a hag's gifts.
To trust a hag, even when she's at your mercy, would be beyond folly. I say we end this.
Allow me to apologise on Lae'zel's behalf, sir. Her lack of tact is a burden to us all.
Allow me to apologise on Shadowheart's behalf, sir. Her lack of tact is a burden to us all.
Allow me to apologise on Astarion's behalf, sir. His lack of tact is a burden to us all.
That was a rather unimpressive display of pettiness, if you ask me.
She's a pregnant lady in distress. We can't just stand by and pretend she's not here.
The choice is yours. There's really no good decision to be made here.
A wizard's tower is his sanctum, a private place for research and respite. But as this wizard's not home - I say we take a peek.
Ingenious use of the magic in the tower's floral core. Though not ingenius enough to outsmart Gale of Waterdeep.
Don't get me wrong. I love poetry as much as the next wizard, but using it to command an automaton... seems a bit self-indulgent to me.
If we're to help Thulla, we'll have to breach that wall with explosives and hope the blast doesn't injure anyone. Or worse.
Let's give them a hand, shall we? Only decent course of action, if you ask me.
It's broken, which means we've nothing to protect ourselves from the curse up above.
Must be the Moonlantern - though it's dark as a moonless night within.
A broken trinket. Beyond repair from the looks of it.
Don't turn on each other. If whatever managed to murder a group of Sharrans is still around, we had better watch our step.
Maybe. But if whatever managed to murder a group of Sharrans is still around, we had better watch our step.
Let's not. But a word of warning: down here in the Underdark, few dangers ever truly die.
Whatever it was that killed them, if it managed to murder a group of Sharrans, we had better watch our step.
If it managed to murder a group of Sharrans, we had better watch our step.
Still, if whatever managed to murder a group of Sharrans is still around, we had better watch our step.
Down here in the Underdark, few dangers ever truly die.
Look at those uniforms. They must have belonged to some kind of sect.
Whoa, not so fast. Let's get the lay of the land before we settle on the scorched earth routine.
Kill or be killed - so it goes down in the Underdark.
There's the matter of the gnomes, too. Wouldn't do to stand by and keep them enslaved.
So we must save the drow first, then sever his head after... Pleasantries like that make me quite homesick.
She really oozes charm, this one. Perhaps we should spare a thought for the wretches she's enslaved.
Uhm - I think you might be about to bite off more duergar than you can chew.
Let's not get into another scrape, shall we? Still catching my breath after the last one.
Death-dark' doesn't sound very inviting. Can't say I fancy our chances without freeing Nere and getting that Moonlantern.
My thoughts exactly.
A stab in the dark it is...
We were warned about the curse. Can't say I fancy our chances without a Moonlantern.
Hmmm, that name doesn't ring a bell.
Charming. Hell is truly where we make it.
The famous Nere - subject of the myconids' ire, no?
Brittle are the foundations upon which the houses of tyrants are built. It seems I judged you to be less brittle than you really are.
The gnomes should be able to go where they please. They are not the duergar's to keep.
Hold on. This fellow may deserve it, but I don't think the duergar will appreciate you hurting the merchandise.
I think we've found two duergar who are going to get spit in their drinks.
You saw it too? The fabled adamantine forge is around the bend. We just have a few snags to untangle.
Another lick of the cane and those rothés are going on a rampage.
A great deity needs a great name. Looks like you're off to a good start.
Tread carefully, now. Not even a god would survive sacrificing me.
Not treading carefully, then? Out with a bang it is.
Scarcely crowned and already issuing orders. Hail Glut, hm?
Charitable bunch, these myconids. At least more so than Kagha and her pet snake.
That's a myconid. And it's warning us...
No, listen! A myconid... it's warning us.
No devils here. That's a myconid. And it seems to be warning us...
That voice... Do you hear it too?
That could mean any number of things.
I can lend you a third left hand if you need one.
My, but this sovereign likes to delegate.
I suppose such wicked killers deserve wicked ends.
She has a heart made of stone, this one - that only smokepowder can break.
As an expert on the subject, my dear lady - I'd like to point out that blowing oneself up is never the solution.
It is the same for me. We're sitting ducks among sussur flowers, you and I.
Our backs are very much prone to stabbing in this environment. So by all means - let's.
And I'll be delighted to see you try - from a safe distance.
Quack.
Need I remind you you're addressing a wizard? I know what's going on - it's happening to me as well.
Fear is a normal response when one feels one's magic slipping away. No need to lash out.
That flower isn't agreeing with you, is it? Doesn't sit well with me either.
A broken Moonlantern? They say that's ten years of bad luck.
You hear him too, don't you? Nere is not long for this world unless we get him out of there.
Moonrise. We're getting close to the lion's den - and plenty of questions I have for the lion, too.
By all means, carry on. I'll come running if you need me.
Quite an oddity to behold... but not without beauty, either.
Well this is new.
How generous of you - but perhaps you've forgotten we need it ourselves? That thing is keeping us safe.
I don't think she's the type who hears 'no' very often...
Right then. I do understand the rule about omelets and breaking eggs, but when there's more embryo than yolk involved... Well, ew.
Are you quite sure that's wise?
We should leave this untouched and get out of here.
Are you quite sure that's wise? We should leave this untouched and get out of here.
The Dawnstar. A beacon to Lathander's faithful - and a startlingly potent artefact.
And what of Lathander's faithful? Did the githyanki cut them down?AVATAR = False
Well... could go either way. But we came this far - should at least try.
There has to be a way to stop this thing!
That's no cure - it's going to kill you. Get out!
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.
What choice do I have? More than just a goddess counts on my courage: whole worlds hang in the balance.
I love you too. Much more than myself. More even than Mystra.
Very well. Whether I condemn this world or not: I choose you.
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.
I do trust you. More than myself right now. Perhaps even more than Mystra.
One last gust of Weave. One last gale to end them all.
Whoever controls the crown could reshape the world... if they can control it.
Netherese power like nothing anyone's seen in ages. They say magic led to the destruction of Netheril itself...
Netherese? These Chosen are powerful indeed to have such magic in their command.
By Mystra's silken tresses…
I wonder, how did the Illithid Empire fall?
Lost in the shadows all this time... he must have left some part of himself behind. Something we can use.
Music's a powerful source of memories. We might be able to bring him around if we find what he used to play.
Thaniel? That's the very lad - or spiriti - that Halsin needs to find.
Might as well take part in this Absolute charade if that buys us both time and our lives.
He's laid a fine trap for you, Mol. But it looks to me like his Cyric could be dethroned.
That's... certainly another strategy. A losing one, but a strategy nonetheless.
Exactly what I was about to suggest.
I see that glint in your eyes. You've a strategy in mind. The same one as me, I'd wager.
Behold, the consequences of your actions.
Please tell me you don't mean to jump down that... oesophagus. The thought alone makes my own jump the other way.
A ritual circle... and a complex one, at that. I've seen such a construction before, in the writings of the Weavepasha of Almraiven, though his vision was not so... tainted.
The sigils are written in a curious mix of tongues - ancient Calishite, Netherese, and something else I can't quite make out. If I'm reading it correctly - it was used in the creation of Moonlanterns.
It's been mostly drained, but even now contains a powerful dose of Shadow Weave.
It's inert, if that's what you mean. But it still reeks of the Shadow Weave, and its polluting magic will continue to escape for as long as it lies abandoned here.
The discarded pixie corpses might still contain enough essence, and with one of the broken lantern casements...
Yes, I think I'd be able to craft one more lantern. And with a slight modification of the casting gesture, it might be able to wield the shadows instead of repelling them...
Though... Mystra's eyes may be upon me, and she'd forbid me dabbling with such magic. She'd want it destroyed. Wasted, arguably.
Deal with it how? I hate to pull rank, but I was once Mystra's Chosen. Destroying magic like this was my bread and butter.
Or did you wish to use it? I assure you - it's pointless. You'll have nothing more than a sore head and a very dissatisfied wizard to show for it.
Oh, charming. I hope the Shadow Weave was to blame for that little outburst of unwarranted discourtesy.
Some room then, if you please.
Not bad for a wizard who slept through his Calishite lessons, eh?
Gods, you're obstinate.
Go ahead, then. Do your worst.
Not how I would have done it.
Really? Sometimes your lack of impetus is quite astonishing.
Very well. Stand back, if you please.
I'd advise against it - in your case, at least. No disrespect intended, but this is not your typical magic.
Well, it wasn't in his published archives - it was merely a sketch. He invoked Mystra's guidance on how to complete it.
It was a quite fascinating design, though the version created here is a strange corruption of the Weavepasha's original intent.
If you think you know best, go right ahead.
These tadpoles come from an ancient colony down below the tower. Whatever we do with them, we must deny their use to the Absolute.
Burn them, I say. Burn them all.
If it's an audience she desires, an audience let us provide.
A sorry creature. Just enough wits to be able to serve the Absolute.
Curious. Ghouls aren't exactly known for their religious fervour. Why does this one care for the Absolute?
To be so favoured and so blessed! One feels positively riddled with envy.
They're dead. Z'rell will want to hear of this.
Z'rell won't be pleased about this - she strikes me as the type to enjoy a little bloodshed.
I'd reconsider. He's not exactly open to attack just now.
What in the hells is that?
Well, now that we know what it is, I suggest we leave it well alone.
Enough of this - release yourself!
Well, you've certainly piqued the interest of the Absolute. Though I can think of at least a dozen gods I'd rather meet.
Someone pinch me, please. I'd really love to wake up from this nightmare.
If they move freely, they must have a Moonlantern. Let's have a little war with that convoy and claim the spoils.
If they move freely, they must have some kind of magic that protects them. I'm not averse to claiming that magic indeed.
This is no typical gloom. Need to stay alert.
Better be careful around here...
Spot on!
Must have been a wizard at work. I know a Continual Flame spell when I see one.
Those beasts still prowl the eternal night, but at least they're afraid of the fire.
Continual Flame - an unquenchable light. Costs a queen's crown worth of ruby dust to summon.
He's scarpered - and I suppose it's up to us to find him.
Cruelty and cleverness are all too common bedfellows. Let's side with cleverness alone, shall we? See what we can do to save this verse-loving pixie.
Come now - you're hardly in position to cast judgement on that score, are you?
As rats go, this one seems to be somewhat of an eccentric.
Defiant little fellow. Seems oddly... purposeful.
Extraordinary behaviour. There's more to these rats than meets their beady little eyes.
I'm not imagining it, am I? These rats' grasp of language seems to be improving.
I see the art of eloquence is alive and well. I'm awed, impressed, and a little bit scared of you right now.
So he's the one who killed all the Dark Justiciars. Alone. Might not want to get on his bad side.
While two devils fight over a bone - well, we should just run away and let them sort it among themselves.
If what is happening is what I think is happening, and it's because you licked a dead spider - the time might just have come when you and I should split ways.
You licked a dead spider. Dead spider. You licked it. That is something that happened.
I think we need to get you some air and perhaps have a long talk about unresolved childhood issues.
Stop licking the damn thing!
Arabella's father. Poor man met a ghoulish end.
That must be Arabella's father. Poor man met a ghoulish end.
That was rather inhospitable. She could well die out there, we should go after her.
Stubborn little tyke! Even if she can swing a spell or two, she's going to get herself killed out here.
Wait, that's Arabella, is it not? Looks like she's got some new Weave up her sleeve.
I'm sorry it had to come to this, Arabella. You were brave and fierce beyond your years.
Look at the thing... A few more tastes of its own medicine and it'll burst.
Was this once a man? The shadows have corrupted him beyond comprehension.
Looks like he's not all there - in more ways than one.
Consume the Shadow Weave.
Cleanse the corpse. Destroy this tainted power.
Leave it be.
This corpse... It's Arabella's father. The horror of his end I daren't contemplate.
This corpse... It's Arabella's mother. The horror of her end I daren't contemplate.
A dead tiefling. Arabella's father, no doubt. The horror of his end I daren't contemplate.
A dead tiefling. Arabella's mother, no doubt. The horror of her end I daren't contemplate.
Gods, what living nightmare is this?
Ketheric's army. I suppose I could end them all with a bang, but my target is the Absolute itself.
That's a bell you can't unring. Perhaps you should reconsider.
A fine idea. Or at least, an idea.
A mind flayer? Not the saviour I'd been hoping for.
A mind flayer? What the blazes is going on here?
That orb's about to explode - and I speak from some experience.
This will suffice as a camp - I could sleep standing up just now.
He sacrificed his soul to save your people, Lae'zel. Surrendered his very being to prevent the Grand Design. I'd say it's a tad ungrateful to murder him for it.
Go forth, Lae'zel, to distant realms. I will miss you dearly.
A kinder fate than to live as one's sworn enemy, though no less a pity for it. At least in legend, the Prince of the Comet will live forever.
Freedom is freedom, no matter the form. I hope he finds peace with his newfound nature - it's the least he deserves.
The depth of your commitment to your cause truly knows no bounds. For him to have survived a Netherbrain only to be ended by your hand... well, it is an end, I suppose.
If it wasn't for you, we'd be thralls, dead, or who knows. This is your victory.
Not to cast any slight on you, of course. Your form rather suits you.
You won't hear a syllable of disagreement from these lips. Thank you.
Have a ponder on what your prize shall be then. I'm still a touch winded from it all…
Oh, spare me the modesty. They should erect statues to you... though they may frighten children.
I'm glad - though not envious.
Apologies. A slip of the tongue from an overjoyed comrade. Not a drop of malice meant.
Not to cast any slight on you, of course. Your present form is but a sign of your gallantry.
I think it might be time for you to find a shadier spot, my friend. If I'm not mistaken, you're beginning to burn…
What are you doing?! Stop!
No doubt she needs a moment alone with her thoughts. Who wouldn't, after all she's been through?
She's taking the long route back to camp. Her time with us is running short - no doubt she's many thoughts to get in order.
We're short a tiefling - where is Karlach?
Against all odds, we cured ourselves. Free from the parasite. Free from the prospect of ceremorphosis. I can hardly believe it. I will not become an accursed illithid!
Against all odds, we cured ourselves. Free from the parasite. Free from the prospect of ceremorphosis. I can hardly believe it. We will not become accursed illithids!
It's over. It's truly over.
The loss of a mind is a terrible thing... but this time, I think I'll make an exception.
Lae'zel, don't!
The githyanki are departing in peace. A curious sight in a day already full of them.
Speaking of githyanki, what about you Lae'zel? Will you be joining them?
Your intellect will be valuable indeed. So long as it remains uncorrupted.
And so long as it doesn't please you to munch on my cerebellum, I'll be right behind you.
It's far from the fate you deserve for the scale of your sacrifice, but I understand why you feel the need to do it.
The Underdark? Not exactly on the top of my list, but I think I understand why the idea appeals to you.
We should drink. Perhaps there's an inn still standing. Every drop will be well-deserved.
I suppose that's the last time any of us will see him, and the last time he'll ever see the sun.
Now, without wishing to cause undue alarm, might I suggest we find some shade? I think the sun is reneging on that truce of yours.
There are many heroes' graves that will need to be dug. Many eulogies to be written.
Let's honour them each and all - but preferably with a drink in hand.
You're right of course. But, well... I'll miss you, friend. Your companionship has been quite the education.
Perhaps we can circle back to that one, once the fires have died and the rubble's settled. I do think we deserve a little rest.
Truly? I don't know how you could even contemplate taking to the road after the journey we've been on.
I won't lie. I'll miss our group. Hells, I'll even miss sleeping rough in the wilderness, to an extent.
What are you doing...? Stop!
Command it to die. Quickly!
Ignore it. Nothing but a vile death rattle.
Up you go then, Gale. Best make this count... The whole world's watching.
Thrall? No, I think you're mistaken. The name's Gale of Waterdeep. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Though our time together will be exceptionally brief. Farewell, and happy landing.
We've tried our very best, but it seems victory is beyond our grasp, I'm sad to say.
At least, victory in which we live to tell the tale.
Don't worry - I'll handle matters from here. And gods willing, there'll be plenty of folk left to tell our tale after we're gone.
Until we wake, my love.
Until we wake, my friend.
It has. And a pleasure, a privilege, a tale for the ages, and if I'm being honest... the very best time I've had in my entire life.
This is our chance. Close your eyes. You'll be wherever you want to be in but a moment.
Can't you feel it? We're almost there.
Once we ascend the Netherbrain's stem, we'll be in touching distance of the crown. Of reclaiming the powers of Karsus himself.
I'm ready. Are you?
And I would die in the process, just to win the favour of a goddess who scarcely cares for me. We discussed this at length - I thought you and I were of a similar mind.
I could simply tell you what you want to hear, then ascend by myself and seize the Crown anyway, you know.
Sometimes I wish I were a more selfish man. Life would be so much easier. But alas...
You're right. The orb is the only way. All that's left for me to do is spirit you away to safety. Are you ready?
Please... this will be so much easier knowing that my memory lives on with you.
No. Let me do this on my terms. Besides - I need someone left to sing my praises, after I'm gone.
No... I would not presume that. I know quality when I see it.
But it won't come to that, for I have the means to spirit away those I care about to a safe remove, before the final curtain.
I thought I meant more to you than a sacrificial lamb. Clearly I was mistaken. I will not cast everything away, not when I know what's out there, almost within my grasp.
If the fight should turn against us, and we have no other option, then rest assured I shall unleash the orb. But I believe there is a much grander destiny in store for us.
You urged me to this point, and now you falter? What would you have me do, sacrifice myself and hope that Mystra eulogises my ashes?
If you're wrong, we'll have squandered the chance for a better world. You understand that, don't you?
But... perhaps saving the day will suffice for now. A better world can always follow, so long as we survive.
So be it - lead on.
Your fears are misplaced - the Crown will lead to a better world for all. I cannot ignore that.
Then I think it's about time we ascended, don't you?
Should it come to that, I will not hesitate. But I think a different destiny awaits us.
I can end this now - stop the Absolute, and spare the city. The stage is set for my final act. Mystra's bidding. And the redemption that lies beyond.
You've brought me right where I need to be - I have no right to ask more of you. It's time I spirited you to safety, for this is a fate I must face alone.
What's the alternative? I allow the Absolute to have its way? Die in vain along with all its victims? Or flee, and live on in shame?
It's just a choice between two deaths. Quick and meaningful, or torturous and pointless.
I'm sure such an outcome is possible, but why risk it? If we ascend there, and try to fight the good fight... well, there're no guarantees.
But this way, we'll know the matter is done, and we'll know exactly what it shall cost - me, and me alone.
It's now, or never.
Always another way, yes - but not necessarily a better way.
This isn't giving up it's securing victory, at a price I am willing to pay. And everything we shared can live on - with you.
You'd be dying in vain. I don't need company to sacrifice myself.
Please. For too long I've lived in fear of taking a host of innocents with me when I expired. Now at least I can be assured my demise will be saving them instead.
If you're mistaken, this could be the end of everything. We will be failing, right at the last hurdle.
But... I only made it this far thanks to you. Who am I to question such sterling guidance now?
Mystra won't be pleased... but perhaps trying to please the gods is a fool's errand.
Lead on, then. I shall stay my hand as long as I can - but if the tide of battle turns against us, remember I have the means to bring a swift end to this.
For now, at least.
There's endless wonder out there. Infinite possibilities. Perhaps fate will bring us back together, before the universe dims.
Fugamus inferni blandimenta.
What I want is a life I could share with you, but alas... knowing you're still out there will suffice for now.
What I want? Perhaps not... But what I need? I believe so. But it may not be the last turn of the page, even if it seems so.
Still, you will be taking unnecessary risks by proceeding. This could all be over in mere moments, if I ascend alone.
True, but it's not too late to reconsider. This would all be over in mere moments, if I ascend alone.
Are you quite sure you wish to place all your trust there? This would all be over in mere moments, if I ascend alone.
As much as I enjoy your company, I'm not willing to kill you just to wring out a few last moments.
I must disagree. It is necessary - and the right thing to do. Every moment I hesitate is costing lives.
The Netherstones might prove more effective if we use them now.
The figure from my dreams...
What in the Hells are those?
You're plotting something, aren't you? Come on then - out with it. I'd rather know before we take on that cerebral monstrosity.
As viable a plan as any while staring into the maw of perdition. Shall we?
I thought I made my feelings plain - I do not want to take that step. Not anymore.
Besides - such a sacrifice won't be necessary if I claim the Crown of Karsus.
You make it sound like such a small thing. No - I do not wish to die.
If there is even the slimmest chance of success once we ascend, I wish to pursue it.
If I live at all, it will be no thanks to her. She didn't even deign to speak to me herself. Let her burn with fury - I choose to live.
There's no sense dwelling on such a future is locked behind the looming shadow of the Netherbrain. First, we must fight. Then we deal with the Crown.
No. I can't give up... and I don't want this to be how I part from you. Let us at least try.
I could simply tell you what you want to hear, then ascend by myself and take on the brain alone, you know.
I'm too long in the tooth to play sacrificial lamb - sacrificial bearded goat, more like. I will not just give in to the orb. Not when I've made it this far.
Should circumstances become that dire, I will not hesitate. But I dearly hope that will not be necessary.
I'm glad. It would be more than a touch awkward if you tried and I had to turn on you.
That said, should the worst transpire, and we seem destined to fail... well, the orb remains an option. But I truly hope it does not come to that.
I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Should the worst transpire, and we seem destined to fail... well, the orb remains an option. But I truly hope it does not come to that.
If there is even the slimmest chance of success once we ascend, I wish to pursue it
The brain... it's high above the city now - far away from any innocents.
The Absolute cannot be resisted.
I refuse to believe it's been so long. It seems more like a handful of moments since we won the day... and I won the crown.
I've been studying it closely ever since - teasing out its power, determining the best way to grasp its potential. Utter focus, near-constant solitude, mere snatched moments of sleep... and yet I have never felt more alive.
The possibilities are beyond comprehension of most mortals... but not for me.
I will not rush it though; I have been burned by the power of Netheril before. It could take years, but when I am ready to act, mortals will no longer need to fear the wrath of gods.
Ever since we seized the moment and won the day, I cannot say I'm aware of the orb's presence anymore... a most curious sensation, and a most unexplained one to boot.
Perhaps Mystra has forgiven me, but hasn't deigned to inform me of the fact. Such as it is with gods.
Either way, I've spent too long living under that shadow. Now I'm free to return to what truly matters - exploring the unknown, extending mastery of the Weave for all mortals... and catching up on my reading, with Tara curled up in my lap.
No, Karlach. Stay with me, please. We've shared too much to part like this.
Karlach, please... I'm not ready to go on without you.
I came to surrender them. The Crown, the Karsite Weave - take it all.
Thank you, but no. I have someone waiting for me.
Perhaps one day, but for now there is more I need to accomplish.
Being an illithid has its advantages. I'm content as I am.
I crave nothing more. Take me to Elysium.
I only wanted to make things right. We need never see each other again.
I want to be your Chosen once more. And this time, I won't let you down.
I want you back, Mystra. I want us to be lovers again.
I will become a new kind of god. One with ambition.
I'm here for your godhood, Mystra. I'm going to rule the Weave.
|May her flame burn forever bright, wherever she is.|
|A shame to have lost the princebut better to die a hero than live a monster|
|It's good to see you, old friend + additional nodes if needed for reactivity to the mindmeld of what the player mind flayer has been up to.|
|It's been a while... how have you been?|
|Wait is that Tav?|
 |Mindflayer!|
|She really is the truest embodiment of her people's spirit.|
|I wonder where she is now?|
|I wonder what the Emperor's been up to?|
|At least he got what he deserved (had his head exploded by the brain OR been killed by us directly.|
|A travesty to have lost such a noble fighter|
|She was a hell of a fighter - she'll be fine.|
|She did good. Real good. It's not fair that she can't be here to reap the rewards, to live her life.|
Truly, I wish I could be there with you.
But now, I voyage elsewhere, on unknown currents, through unknown realms. One with the Weave. One with the infinite.
It's curious. After all the wonders and monstrosities we've witnessed, waking beside you seems more unreal than any of it.
I'd forgotten what it felt like, to greet a sunrise without fear of it being my last.
Oh, hells. I'm sorry. Barely awake a moment and I've already put my foot in it.
Come now - resignation doesn't suit you half as well as optimism. We'll find some other means of fixing up that infernal engine of yours.
You always find a smile where others would soak in their sorrows. And I promise - you'll have reason to smile soon enough.
When we get to Waterdeep, we'll search in my library. It's bound to contain the odd scroll on hellish thermodynamics. Or a spell that might diffuse the heat in such a way that -
Ah. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you... that is, would you consider returning to Waterdeep with me?
What, then? You intend to die here? Now?
I - I don't believe it. I won't believe it.
If you go were to return to the hells - temporarily - it would buy us some time. I could putsomething together, a means of keeping you stable at least. Please, let me try.
What if... what if I went with you?
I deserve the chance to live my life with the raging inferno I love. If that means relocating to the hells, so be it. I've heard Avernus is quite lovely this time of year.
Besides, it would be quite something to study infernal magic in its natural environs. I say 'natural' in the loosest sense, of course.
There's nothing we can't handle - I promise you that.
It's taken me long enough to find you. I'll be damned if I'm letting you go.
If this is the end, then we face it together. That, at least, I can promise you.
I know that look. It's your heart isn't it? Not to worry - you have one of the finest wizards in the Realms at your fingertips.
Soon, I'll deliver the crown to Mystra, and be rid of the orb at long last. I'll be free.
Oh, him. I've been thinking a lot about that. 'Gale of Waterdeep', sounds a bit... pompous, don't you think?
We have all the time in the world for that. But first, there's something I wanted to talk to you about.
I do feel like a new man. I was going to speak to you about that, as a matter of fact.
Whatever for? I rather like this new you.
In fact, your tentacular transformation has inspired me to make a little change of my own.
It's strange, but somehow I woke up this morning and realised the orb feels different. No clamour, no desperation, no hunger.
I hesitate to say it, but I think it's... satisfied.
I'll need to keep a careful study of it, make sure it's not suddenly destabilised by proximity to a rogue pair of netherese sandals or what have you, but I think it's dormant.
That's one worry I can leave behind me, at least.
It could be. Or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.
That's how I feel with you - content. It's a rather unfamiliar feeling, I must say. Not something Gale of Waterdeep ever craved.
Not the matter, but there is a matter I wanted to speak to you about.
I've decided to drop this whole 'Gale of Waterdeep' business. It's a bit... pompous, don't you think?
Quite. Though on the subject of our future plans, there was something I wanted to discuss with you.
I thought I might take this opportunity to reinvent myself. Or uninvent myself, to be more accurate.
You're now in the company of plain old Gale Dekarios - a most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited renown. At your service.
Now, I believe this is the moment where I should get to my point, so to speak.
I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone, mortal or immortal. And you've proven your love for me in more ways than even the greatest mathematicians would dare to count.
That being said, I wondered if you might consider accompanying me back to Waterdeep as a new member of the Dekarios clan?
I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted. Not to mention my mother. But I'd be just as happy without such ceremony, so long as we're together.
Your 'present condition' is that you're the one I love. And your current form is merely a reflection of the depths of your sacrifice. It only makes me love you more.
There will be some practicalities to iron out. The guest list, the venue, and we'll need to find a very open-minded cleric.
I promise we'll make it work, if you'll have me?
Then I go where you go. Waterdeep wouldn't be home without you, anyway.
We'll need time to make the arrangements, of course. The catering alone will need to be quite extraordinary…
But that's all to come. The day is young, and there are thousands more days ahead of us.
We'll need time to make the arrangements of course - the Dekarios clan is scattered clan far and wide, and you'll have invites of your own to send out, I'm sure.
You will? Oh, thank goodness for that.
You can't blame a fellow for trying. If you're contented as we are, then so am I.
That does lead me to a more pressing matter. Exactly how large is your library?
There remains only one matter to be resolved - for me, at least.
I understand your purpose lies here, but I fear if I return to Waterdeep alone, my heart would remain here with you.
And so, if you're at all amenable to the idea, I thought I could, perhaps, stay. There might even be room for two Dekarioses in Baldur's Gate?
It does, doesn't it?
I see. Well, I've no desire to stand in the way of the future you've chosen.
If our love ends here, it was no less perfect for its brevity. I will remember it, and you, always.
I think we'll have plenty of time to do just that.
Not a morning person, I take it? I can scratch that from the list of wonderfully ordinary things I've still to learn about you.
I'm not normally one to rise with the birds myself, but something disturbed my sleep.
Both of us have been blessed with a new dawn - you should feel no shame at the nature of yours. And mine...
I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted. Not to mention my mother. But I'd be just as happy without such ceremony, so long as we're together
I promise we'll make it work, if you'll have me
Well met! I am a magical projection of Gale of Waterdeep, and if you see this manifestation, that means I have prematurely perished.
And this time, I'm sorry to say, there's no coming back.
But no tears, friends. I hope that my sacrifice was meaningful - that the world is a safer place, and that you have found happiness.
This is not the kind of decision to make based solely on your own wisdom. We must discuss it - privately.
If that's the only way of putting an end to this gods-forsaken mess, I will not fail you.
I will, but we can't ignore the possibility that I don't make it to the brain. It won't hurt us to have a contingency.
Do not forget - there's a card yet to come into play. The orb. If we do not want to surrender the stones, I could still use it to ensure the brain's destruction. Along with my own, of course.
Have you lost your wits?! You must not do this!
And it would take one wizard to unleash a cataclysm powerful enough to tear apart the brain's very being. We have no choice but to consider using the orb.
|All three stones - we have what we need to dominate the elder brain.|
Hells. His mind crumpled like a piece of parchment.
What in the hells are you doing?
We can't afford to let that happen.
|The Netherbrain is trying to get to us. Hold yourself together!|
Arabella?
Florrick's fate may not yet be sealed, if we care to intervene.
One source of lethal explosive power in our party is quite enough. It seems ill-advised to add another.
They have their freedom... but what of the city? Have we just unleashed a plague onto the streets?
So many dead... we'll never wash this blood from our hands.
Perhaps its for the best. Freeing them could have unleashed chaos, and the thought of killing them is more than I could stomach.
Minsc - the very same Jaheira seeks.
Stealing someone's friend and their face? Boundaries clearly mean little to this lot.
I think it's about time we imposed ourselves on Raphael's hospitality for a change.
I never credited Bhaal with a sense of humour. This is some sick joke of his - let's not be part of it.
Made into a mouthpiece by the elder brain itself. The merest taste of its manipulations, I fear.
I'd no idea you held such aspirations. Can't say I share them.
Shadowheart is one of us. Betray her, and you betray us all.
Do not insult our intelligence. You'd erase her, make a blank vellum of her mind, her memories, and inscribe it with your poison.
Look - a bookseller. She can point us to the tome I need.
They say madness and genius are separated by but a hair's breadth. Perhaps the same is true of madness and stupidity.
He would seek the power of gods for the pettiest of reasons - his own gratification. At least I seek them for the better of all.
Pitying, not insolent. You chase one power without knowing an even greater one lies within my reach - the Crown of Karsus.
Once we acquire it, your ambitions will be dwarfed. I will be able to stand against Mystra, and wrest her powers from her. For the betterment of all.
Perhaps you could not. But Netheril's power is in my blood, and Mystra? I know her in ways that most mortals can only dream of.
There is no need for me to bark. My actions will speak for themselves, in time.
Perhaps it was indeed wise to dissuade me from the Crown of Karsus - a jumped-up wizard drunk on promises of power is not enviable company.
Nothing at all, friend. I was merely admiring your ambition.
I'm my own man. I make my own choices.
Let him chase his prize if he wishes. We know of an even greater one that he is blind to - the Crown.
Nothing, friend. Just a little trapped wind - I'm sure you understand.
You'd give up her location, just like that? You're not actually considering betraying her, are you...?
Ambitious wizards and vast power can be a dangerous mix. Careful what you share with him.
A shame to wizardry, this one. Still, we should exercise caution.
The great and powerful Lorroakan, offering our humble group an audience? We are honoured.
I've heard rumours about Lorroakan's 'teaching'. Or lack of it. His students are no more than glorified shopkeeps.
A lucky escape, given Lorroakan's reputation. He'd have little of value to teach you.
(That's it. That's what I need.)
(I can't explain now, but it's very important we get hold of that book. Very, very important.)
Whatever you want with this idol, I'd prefer we make it quick. I'm not sure I'm comfortable catching Mystra's eye, even if it is made of stone.
Trust me - it will take a lot more than a few gold pieces and some fervent thoughts to convince Mystra to break her silence. On my account, at least.
Commune with her as you see fit. She's your goddess, and I've no wish to stand between you and any blessing she might deign to offer.
Commune with her as you see fit. I've no wish to stand between you and any inspiration she might deign to offer.
Commune with her as you see fit. I've no wish to stand between you and any inspiration she might deign to offer
I really think we ought to step in here. Whatever his crime, this punishment is surely an overcorrection.
A cruel conclusion to the mercy we showed, but hardly an unpredictable one. As long as it lives, so will its appetite.
Is that... is that truly you...? I thought I might never see you again.
No... you need to leave. Put as much distance as you can between yourself and that monster.
Orin. Orin the Red.
Orin happened.
Orin. She snatched me up, from our camp. Brought me down here to her temple. A Bhaalist enclave.
How long has it been? A tenday? Longer? I can't even tell... She did things to me... such awful things. Even I don't have the words. She... she took things from me...
She let me run. She likes the sport of it... told me I could earn back what she cut off. My trophy, she said, if I could outpace her...
Look, you can't fight her. She's too strong. Turn around. I'm done running. I'll buy you what time I can.
That's it? You'd leave him, filleted and afraid, to fend for himself? So cold. So cruel.
That's not for you to decide.
You face her already.
Oh, something you're undoubtedly familiar with.
A few choice cuts and sweetmeats. Nothing fatal - not with my knife-work - but perhaps a tad... diminishing.
You wouldn't say that. Not if you'd suffered a fraction of what was done to me. By Orin's hand.
She snatched me up, from our camp. Brought me down here to her temple. A Bhaalist enclave.
Just one Chosen remains. Let's endeavour to make that none, shall we?
I tried once before... but it seems Bhaal has too tight a grasp on you.
Still though, I won't leave. There's a good person in there somewhere.
There is nothing more to be said, but a final goodbye.
He calls to you, doesn't he? Bhaal. Resist him - to rule in his name would be to lose who you truly are.
Without you, I'd likely be long dead. Count me extremely grateful you're still here.
Congratulations. That was hard-fought and well-deserved. You're free.
I'm sure Gortash will be eager to learn of his rival's demise.
If you must indulge yourself like that, please do it quietly.
I'm telling you, this is a mistake.
Might I suggest that was a little too easy? Steal this, and we should brace ourselves for what comes next. I fear the hells will truly let loose.
An over-confident appraisal. I'll show them the flaws in their design.
A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like?
Very well then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.
I've been known to shuffle a few knights around in my day. Might I offer a suggestion?
First, move your white queen to the upper right corner. Then, move her four squares to the left.
First, have the white queen move all the way across and capture the black pawn. This leaves black's king in check, forcing him to retreat a square left.
Your queen then takes the other pawn, one square up and left, always under the protection of her faithful bishop.
First, threaten the black king. Move your rook one square to the right. That leaves black only two choices:
Option one - the black bishop can take your rook. This leaves your queen free to move three squares to the right, and checkmate black's king, your knight pinning him down.
Option two - black's king retreats up and right. Your knight can then move two squares left and one up to mate the king, your rook preventing his escape.
First, the white queen moves up and right, diagonally, two squares. This allows her to threaten black's king, while protected by her white knight.
The king will have no choice but to take the knight, ensnaring himself him between his own pawn and bishop. The white queen can then checkmate by moving one more square up and to the right.
No apology required. Take all the time you need.
Mum's the word. The quiet before the storm, if you will.
Lanceboard happens to be a game with which I have more than a passing familiarity. Might I offer a suggestion?
Hmm. Not to my taste, but I'll take a clown over some hack magician pulling peonies from his breeches.
Truly? I might as well go mount the gallows.
You truly are testing the patience of a man who could level a city if he wished, you know.
Huzzah! Should this prove embarassing, just imagine the audience in the nude.
Thoroughly magical. Let's have at it.
Do you think so little of me? At least you didn't compare me to a spotted dick…
You make me sound like some preening peacock. I am not that bad.
Bravo. That is indeed where my mind wanders to, when times are hard...
Once, perhaps. But those passions have soured.
I have worse failings, I fear. Far worse.
Hearing it said out loud - yes, I fear it is true. Fate seems determined to make a sacrifice of me.
But perhaps fate can yet be defied...
A perfect score. It seems you know me better than I know myself.
It seems you've been paying attention to me - though there is always room for improvement.
I've had a little stone caught in my boot the last while - clearly that makes for a better travelling companion than you do.
Ah, the fruit of scholars. How I long to have a troop of loyal students grace me with apples by the orchard-full in exchange for wisdoms imparted...
I'm not opposed to a bowl of something mysterious and rib-sticking, but I certainly don't identify as one.
An apt metaphor - though I hope it won't lose me some kisses.
Well, if you insist...
Perhaps you're overestimating my affection towards you a tad? You'd better seek a partner-in-embarrassment elsewhere.
No thank you. Sounds as appealing as milking cottage cheese directly from a geriatric cow.
Hello! I'm here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep to participate in this evening's activities. He would like me to assure you all that I am anatomically accurate.
I am involved! I'm taking notes. Making observations.
My word.
I'll enjoy myself well enough from back here! You go on and do... the rutting or what have you.
Well I suppose it would do no good to back out now. Let us begin this little anthropological study, if we must.
I'd prefer you didn't do this. If I'm not enough for you, I could always conjure us some kind of non-sentient companion.
This is all a bit much for me. Back home in Waterdeep, I prefer to have Tara leave the room before I undress.
I appreciate that - but I can't help how I feel. Sorry.
I might enjoy watching you tangled up with the drow, as long as I was five paces back.
You're adorable even when you're teasing me. But I must decline.
I'd rather tangle with a dragon than get tangled in all those limbs.
A stirring verse, to rouse heroes depleted. But not for us, because we went and cheated.
Filial betrayal, is it? A tale as old as the gods themselves.
Perhaps she needs a moment.
Karlach? Are you all right?
Let's take a breath - the odds are stacked against us if we try to pick a fight now.
Let's let cooler heads prevail, eh? I'm not sure I like our odds if we pick a fight here.
Don't - we'd face very poor odds if you start a fight now.
A doppelganger in our camp? A little redundant of me to say, but that could be anyone.
Hmm. I can think of more trustworthy accomplices - more than a few, in fact.
Why do I get the feeling the punishment will be far, far worse than the crime?
Ravengard hasn't given up yet. His true self is still in there, and could yet be saved.
A tad harsh, don't you think? Our fire will be no cooler just for sharing it with a child in need.
Is that... Tara? Why, I think it is!
I think that's another tressym...
It is. It's Tara! What's she doing all the way out here?
I'm rather a dab hand myself when it comes to a spot of intellectual intrigue...
That was reckless. In a devil's hands, the crown could be as dangerous as any artefact in existence - we need to nullify the terms of that deal.
To do that, we'll need to find a diabolist willing to open a backdoor to the hells, sneak into Raphael's home, and destroy the contract. Simple.
The Crown of Karsus cannot be handed over to this devil. Agree to nothing.
Handing that crown to this devil would be like feeding gunpowder to a lava worm. Agree to nothing.
Wherever this 'House of Hope' is, we need to go there immediately and destroy that contract. We must speak with Helsik. Only a diabolist will know the way.
Wherever this 'House of Hope' is, we need to go there immediately and destroy that contract. We must speak with Helsik - she's the only one who can show us the way.
Wherever this 'House of Hope' is, we need to go there immediately and destroy that contract. We must speak with Korilla. If anyone knows the way, it will be her.
Wherever this 'House of Hope' is, we need to go there immediately and destroy that contract. We must find a diabolist. Only one well-versed in devilry will know the way.
Elminster's Library?' People will get their thrills in the strangest of places...
Good evening! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale.
You are speaking to a mere projection of Gale - his appearance, his voice, and a certain measure of his personality - reconstituted in this case to play as emissary and usher.
Would you care to join him? What little I could glean from the portion of his mind that is open to me, it is a matter most urgent.
Perhaps later shall be too late. I would urge you to reconsider, lest the opportunity prove to be a fleeting one.
Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him.
A shame. He will be most disappointed, I fear.
Would you care to join him? What little I could glean from the portion of his mind that is open to me, it is a matter most urgent
My message is intended only for the paramour of Gale of Waterdeep. Please stand aside.
You seem to have fared well enough without me, Tara. You look positively prosperous.
Or should I say, positively prosper-puss? Ha!
Apologies. Couldn't help myself.
I have not failed to notice. I truly do not deserve such loyal companionship.
Now I trust you won't give in to your more predatory instincts while you're here, shall you?
Still though - not everyone wishes for a dead bird or mouse to be laid on their bedroll as a gift.
The vittles are... adequate.
No harm - unpretentious grub for intrepid adventurers. After all, you never read what heroes of yore had for their supper, do you?
If the child's desperate enough to seek safety in our company, who are we to turn her away?
Duke Wyll Ravengard!
Well now you've found me, perhaps you can share your purpose.
As am I.
Please, I do not need to hear of your joint aches and privy sorties again.
You may be proven incorrect - time is not on my side, I fear.
Oh to have but a thimbleful of your confidence at my disposal...
Well, we all have a monster inside us of one sort or another.
You say all the right words, but I'm not so sure you mean the right things. Still, I will respect the decision that was made.
A word, if you please.
Remember how I told you I was in dire need of magical artefacts to absorb?
Clearly the matter has hardly been a priority of yours, but even so, you can consider it closed.
I no longer require assistance - neither yours, nor that of artefacts.
Not at all.
I've had a solution in mind for a while now, it just took me some time to... set it in motion.
That's it - I won't take more of your time this lovely evening. Rest well.
Stop that! How dare you...
Forget whatever it was you saw. It's all beyond you now anyway.
No more than what I had to - and that's all I'll say on the matter.
Much later. If ever.
Suit yourself. Like I said: I no longer require your assistance.
Stop that! How dare you - again...
Up to tricks, are we?
No matter. All you see is what I want you to see.
In my mind, you are quite blind.
Up to old tricks again, are we?
Not really, no.
I owe you an apology. Things became quite heated between us before, after I learned of the Crown of Karsus. I allowed myself to get carried away, and failed to properly explain myself.
Thank you. But I owe you more than that. I need to help you understand just what this could mean for us.
When are we not doing something dangerous? Give me a chance - I think I can help you understand.
I can't. Your opinion matters greatly to me. Give me a chance - I think I can help you understand.
Ah. You're still talking to me then?
I wouldn't blame you for giving me a wide berth. I thought the orb's ever-present censure had tamed my wilder ambition, but that wasn't the case.
I needed Mystra's intervention. She offered me a path to redemption at last, and it might yet leave my mind and body intact.
Please - continue to believe in me. I want to show you the wizard I am capable of being, rather than the poor excuse for a man who's kept you company thus far.
That's all I ever need to hear.
I know what I must do. The Crown belongs under Mystra's stewardship, not mine, and I will ensure she gets it.
That means there'll be no permanent place in the heavens for us. But we could still visit.
Astra navigabimus.
Few mortals ever glimpse what you're about to see. But don't be alarmed - I'm here with you. Now... open your eyes.
Quite the view, isn't it? The Outer Planes are a place of profound, sometimes overwhelming possibility.
I conjured this illusion often during my confinement in Waterdeep. An escape for the mind, where there was none for the body.
It was easier to stare at the celestial abyss than recognise the emptiness within myself. Easier to pretend my destiny lay among such stars, than work to salvage a life on solid ground. You changed all that.
No matter. Far be it for me to impose the majesty of the celestial canvas on those unwilling to partake of its beauty.
Enjoy the rest of your evening.
If that's true, it's thanks to you, and the trust you show in me at every turn of this strange adventure of ours.
I'm sorry. It's not easy living for more than just yourself, when for so long just staying alive was accomplishment enough.
You stole the words from my mouth.
I don't think I deserve you at times. I told you of my ambitions - the likes of which many would baulk at - and yet you remain at my side.
It gladdens me to hear you say that. Perhaps I can show my gratitude another way - by demonstrating exactly what ascension will mean to me. To us.
Words alone are not enough. Permit me to show you. Please, close your eyes a moment.
The Outer Planes. This is where gods dwell. Where they observe us from afar. Where they make play-things of us.
They would keep all of this from us - the power, the possibilities. They only want us to serve them, pray to them... and ultimately, die for them.
But what if we didn't need them? What if we wielded their power instead, and helped ourselves in all the ways they refuse to. I could make that happen. I could make this illusion a reality, with you by my side.
How could I not crave this? But I don't want it for myself, alone - I want you at my side, willing and wholehearted.
Yes, you have. But I want more than your support. I want your heart.
No, not like that. I don't want to join them, I want to better them. A god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.
Then have me - but have the best possible version of me.
I've already defied Mystra. Had I followed her command, there'd be nothing left of me but a smoking crater.
The tadpoles, the orb - these threats to our existence - the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind Ao. So let us act ourselves.
With the power of the crown, any foe would be rendered impotent. Any obstacle would be dwarfed by our might.
I used to believe Mystra's forgiveness was worth dying for. But I was wrong. You showed me just how much I have to live for.
With you, I forget my goddess. I love you.
Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please.
Right now, I need nothing more than a kiss. Then we'll face what is to come, together. And claim the crown when the time comes.
I'll always have you, Karlach.
No doubt it will be - abominably so. As is just about everything we do. But I know we're up to the task. Are you still with me?
But think what I offer. The vastness of eternity to explore, the Weave at our fingertips... You would really prefer me as I am?
Say yes. But if words fail you, I'll accept a kiss.
No doubt it will be - abominably so. As is just about everything we do. But I know we're up to the task. What do you say...?
It won't, I swear to you. It's merely a tool - a means to an end.
You told me once to choose you, the one who loved me. That's what this is all about. Do you doubt me?
You mean... you want the same as I do?
I've never wanted to kiss you more than I do now.
Then it will be so. With you and I together, there's not a force in existence that can stop us.
What more is there to be said?
But I could be so much more to you.
I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything.
You put the stars to shame. Let's sit here another while - I want to drink you in.
You see me as I am, and do not find me wanting. With these stars as my witness, I swear - you will always be enough for me.
As you wish. Take a moment to soak the view. I doubt you will be privy to it again.
A little boat voyage, that's all. Indulge me.
I suppose if you see it that way... there's little else to be said, is there. Enjoy your evening.
Remain steadfast - there is nothing to fear from what awaits me. In fact... allow me to show you. Words alone are not enough.
Please, close your eyes a moment.
There you are. I was worried you might have second thoughts after my little confrontation with Mystra.
Most would think me foolish, deluded even, for daring to pursue dreams of wielding Karsus' Crown. I do not take your faith lightly.
Ah, you've a moment for me? I was hoping to speak to you - I confess, my thoughts have been somewhat scattered since my audience with Mystra.
The Karsite Weave could offer more than just power - it could bestow divinity. If I only trust myself to wield it.
I know this may not be the course you would choose for me, but before you protest - you should at least know what it is you would be advising against.
A pity I did not learn all she had to offer, but the fact that she summoned me to her presence is proof enough that the Crown of Karsus is worth pursuing.
I must admit, the Crown of Karsus has occupied my every thought since I learned of it. If I can seize it, and use it... the possibilities for both of us are infinite.
I must admit, the Crown of Karsus has occupied my every thought since we learned of it.
If we can seize it, and use it... the possibilities are endless. Yet you haven't uttered a peep one way or the other about it.
The power to change the world - it may be within our reach. You must have an opinion, surely.
But I cannot. You would not be able to either, if you knew what I knew. Please, allow me to show you. Just close your eyes a moment.
Then the fault lies with me, and my inadequate words. Please, allow me to show you instead. Just close your eyes a moment.
It is a kind of love after all; at the very least a most deep seated passion.
That is why I asked you to seek me out, to offer you a taste of such wonders. Would you like me to show you?
In any case, don't blame yourself. Mystra can be a fickle mistress. As I'm sure you're aware.
More or less. I was lost in... prayer of all things.
Mystra, for indeed it was her image I conjured, commands all magic. Salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.
Just pondering what I lost.
Mystra commands all magic. Salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.
And yet, even now, more than I fear losing my own self and soul, I fear losing my command of her art.
In a manner of speaking, yes. I was lost in prayer of all things.
Someone I miss and... lost, I suppose.
No special reason, really. I was just... practising an incantation.
For the seldom purpose of prayer.
So I was, praying she'd aid me.
So I was. Praying - though perhaps more accurately: pleading.
|Thanks for letting me stay.|
|Any particular reason you did?|
|Ah I see. Practical as ever.|
|Well it's nice to be liked enough for people to choose horrible, necrotic death by your side, I guess.|
|I am really in a poor state. So tired. Might explode any day. Any night.|
|That was a very... passionate plea you held on my behalf.Why so?|
Go to sleep. If another knife awaits in the night, so be it.
Betrayed by a drow commander of the Absolute. How unexpected a turn of events.
How does it feel to kill a woman still flush with the warmth of your body? All par for the course for you, I suppose.
But no matter. What's one more kill but a fitting coda to a day of carnage?
This is the worst moment. When the screams of the dying have faded, and the conquering hordes howl and yelp as they come to their vile climax.
Massacre. A spectacle of slaughter. And I participated.
What are these bloody stumps that used to be such delicate harpists of the Weave?
No!
Two shadows are darkening my soul. The shadow within and the shadow without:
You.
You led me down this path.
But at what cost?
I don't know myself anymore. All this... It's not who I am. Around you, I'm not who I want to be.
I should leave.
Precious little love lost between us, isn't there?
All the more blood.
Yes. Yes, I suppose we do. Few things are more powerful than the will to live.
But carnage such as this... The shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion.
Perhaps you'll understand me better when you know the truth of my condition.
No - a night like this is unfit to bear witness to such a tale. It's unfit for most things. Now please - permit me some peace amidst this vile revelry. We'll speak, but another time.
You will. But not until then. Now please - I'd prefer to be alone with my regrets. Enjoy these vile revelries, if that's your inclination. It certainly isn't mine.
I thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but I see now there are darker depths to which I might yet sink. You may be content to sink into that abyss, but I assure you - I am not.
At what cost? Are our lives truly worth so many others?
I can see the answer in your eyes. And that's why I'm leaving.
Gods damn you - you're right. Few things are more powerful than the will to live.
What chances I have, I'll take them. I'd rather roll the dice than deliver all this death.
It's time to stop making excuses.
Don't blame me for detesting them.
You really are absolutely heartless, aren't you?
I've said my piece. Now let me dull my tongue with wine.
I thank you for seeking me out. Amid all this merriment I wasn't sure we'd have a chance to speak this evening.
Were our bond a little stronger, I might even have shared a moment of magic with you.
Alas, our fledgling acquaintanceship has not yet taken flight. Such intimacy will have to wait.
I was hoping you'd spare me a moment. There was something rather magical I wished to show you.
A lesson. And trust me when I say - few have experienced the pleasure I offer to teach.
However, it's something best experienced in more intimate surrounds, once the revelry has ended, and the stillness of the night has been restored.
For now - please, enjoy the celebration. When it is done, I will show you all.
I promise you - my offer is a perfectly sober one. So, what do you say?
Too bad. One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest.
The point is - I have hope. Each new sunrise may yet be the one to coax our budding bond to blossom. But I think it's fair to say - it won't be today's.
Now please, go and enjoy your evening. this won't be the first party I've spent moping in self-indulgence with a bottle of wine for company.
I'm glad you feel the same way. But, while I'm eager to enjoy your company on an exclusive basis later this evening, it would be selfish to keep you to myself before then.
So please - go, and enjoy the festivities. Anticipation will only make our reunion the sweeter.
I promise you - my offer is a perfectly sober one. So, what do you say
A beautiful night, don't you think? Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.
It's a view I would once have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.
She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting in the firelight...
Not everyone is comfortable being alone with their thoughts. Though I never felt alone with a book in my hand. Or with her for company.
I speak of Tara, my tressym, assistant, my constant companion through all the ills and tribulations my hubris has thrust upon me.
She'd be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I've given her little to be proud of recently.
After I was afflicted with my condition, I locked myself in my tower for an entire year. I was inconsolable, wallowing in my self-inflicted tragedy.
I'd given up on myself, but Tara never did. It was her encouragement, her research that led me to my treatment. Once we knew that magically-infused items were the key, she went out to find them for me. She saved my life.
After so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to have repaid the favour. Not directly to Tara, but to these poor tieflings. I'm sure she would approve.
Smart' does her a disservice. She's a fine wizard in her own right, though somewhat held back by her lack of opposable thumbs.
You remind me of her somewhat. The same sharp tongue. And sharp teeth.
You remind me of her somewhat. You share her pragmatic streak.
You remind me of her somewhat. You share a certain nobility of spirit.
You remind me of her somewhat. You share her fierceness, and her passion.
You remind me of her somewhat. Something in the way you roll your eyes when I speak...
You remind me of her somewhat. An expression you both share - when she gives in to her more feline qualities, a mouse trapped beneath her paw...
I wish she were here for me to make a formal introduction, but I would never ask her to undertake such a journey. She is safer at home.
Besides, she was always telling me I needed to spread my wings, so to speak. Find mortal friends, instead of hanging onto Mystra's coattails. So that's what I'm doing. I hope.
Very funny. But as we all know, nymphs are sticklers when it comes to their bathing routines. You, my friend, haven't been near a fresh spring in a tenday or more.
Not that I don't appreciate your musk. I actually rather like it...
Well, this seems as good a time as any for me to stop babbling on.
I assure you, were you to meet Tara you would see the comparison for the flattery it is. But perhaps that's not a point worth labouring further.
Suffice it to say, I think rather a lot of you. And there aren't many on this plane who I'd give such high praise.
One doesn't become the most powerful archmage in Waterdeep and lover to the goddess of magic herself by having low standards.
I assure you, when I tell someone they're wonderful - I mean it. And you are wonderful.
Then let me say it more plainly -
I think you're rather wonderful. And that's not a word I waste on anyone unworthy of it.
Were I to recite that list, I fear we'd still be here at dusk tomorrow. Many things, I assure you, but a conversation better saved for another time.
Wine is to wit as meat is to... to... oh, I can't bloody remember it. There I go, then, proving your point.
Perhaps we'd better leave it at that. My ineloquent tongue isn't worthy of your ear at present.
With my condition as volatile as it is, I fear any undue, er, excitement, may tip it over the edge. So to speak.
Go - enjoy your evening. Nothing better for the heart than a good night's rest, and mine is gladdened to know I'll have the pleasure of your company again come morning.
Go, indulge in the frivolities - they're good for the heart. And mine will be all the lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.
Always bringing such candour to our conversations. Some would think twice about mocking Gale of Waterdeep, but you just go straight for the gut.
I like that about you. It's one of your rarer qualities, though I fear my ego can take no more of it tonight.
Right. Understood. You shall hear no more on the subject from me.
Consider this budding romance thoroughly nipped. Though I hope our friendship need not come to such an abrupt end.
She'll love you. So long as you don't rub her belly. She hates it when anyone does that.
The pleasures I experienced in Mystra's embrace go far beyond the thrill of having one's tummy tickled. I remember once, she took the smallest piece of the Weave and made it into -
Wait. Are you saying...
I see. Then perhaps we see each other in the same light after all. A resplendent one, flush with warmth and anticipation, but one which I must shy away from, for now.
You know what, I think I've clearly had far too much wine. And you've had nowhere near enough. I think this is a conversation best held back on - for now.
Not an animal lover? Nobody's perfect, I suppose.
Nonetheless, your finer qualities are remarkably plentiful.
Sadly not. If I'm being entirely honest, my social circle is rather small. More of a dot. Or a pinhead.
I've got aquaintances, certainly. Plenty of colleagues. But friends? Those are precious indeed.
I hope, though we've only known each other for a short time, I might be able to count you among that number?
Please - feel free to enjoy yourself elsewhere. No doubt there are others here who offer more welcome company.
You remind me of her somewhat. There's a steeliness to you, an unwavering tenacity even in the face of, to be frank, quite dire odds.
Sometimes. But I imposed it upon myself, after all. I set up enough wards to keep an army at bay, never mind the few colleagues who sought to inquire about my welfare.
Tara did her best to keep my spirits up, of course, but there's only so much one tressym can make up for one's entire social circle. And she was often gone seeking items to treat my condition.
You're the first person I've spent any significant time with in a year or more. Spending time in your company, I realise that I may have left behind the greater part of my wit, and sensitivity, in my tower.
I'm glad. To know you enjoy my company is, well, it's rather wonderful actually. I'd be loathe to waste the time of someone who's become rather important to me.
She'd be proud to see me keeping such fine company - the saviour of those poor tieflings, no less. And I've given her precious little to be proud of recently.
She has a good heart, and she would recognise the same in your actions here. I'm sure she'd approve of me lending myself to your efforts.
By Ahghairon's lost nose - no!
Tara is not any cat. She's a tressym. And given your confusion, I'm guessing you've never met one. They're brilliant creatures - fine company for any self-respecting wizard.
Don't worry about me - I'm quite content to enjoy the party from here. Go, enjoy yourself.
Even in such fraught times as these, there is peace to be found in the stillness as evening draws in.
I used to while away many hours just like these with my companion, though in far comfier surrounds.
Don't let me drag you away. Enjoy yourself - you earned a night of revelry.
Enjoy the night. It seems to me full of opportunities.
There's that confidence I like.
I'm glad you sought me out. Amid all this merriment I wasn't sure we'd have a chance to speak this evening.
Come now! This is a night for celebration, not suspicion.
I thank you for seeking me out. Amidst all this merriment I wasn't sure we'd have a chance to speak this evening.
I wasn't sure we'd have a chance to make merry, just the two of us.
As they say in Waterdeep: in wine there is truth.
That's usually followed by: in water there is good sense.
Good sense will have to wait 'til the morrow.
That, my friend, must remain a secret. For now. Or rather: for as long as you've eyes only for someone else among our troupe.
Another night perhaps.
But before you go...
I know there are many things about me that remain shrouded in mystery. You've been very patient with me, and I appreciate that.
You've given me powerful magic to consume when I needed it most.
You've brought me back from the grey shores of death.GaleDied
You know of my condition, and you know about my unfortunate efforts to win Mystra's favour, but those are but the broad strokes.
You know of my condition and its challenges, but those are but the broad strokes.
The time has come to paint you the true picture.
I can only hope my tale will live up to your expectations.
Tonight, of course, we celebrate, and I won't keep you any longer. Tomorrow night though, you're in for quite the bedtime story.
Curiosity is a trait we all share.
I was given powerful magic to consume when I needed it most.
It would...
Actually, on second thought I can't think of it entailing anything particularly enticing at all.
Forgive me, I seem to be of two minds and two moods. We'll blame the wine and leave it at that.
We shared a romantic moment of the mind while cloaked in the Weave, didn't we?
And I seem to recall a fond allusion to that moment afterwards.
Perhaps that's a moment we ought to further explore.
We had a moment, you and I, a moment in which we expressed the possibility of becoming more than friends.
Tonight seems perfectly suited for such endeavours.
Allow me to make the following proposition:
There's a book that circulates in Amn, detailing the first thousand nights of a newlywed king and queen.
Forget the book then. Let's be blank slates on blank sheets, delightfully new.
That's because I'm full of delights.
We'll let the night run its course. And when everything is quieting down, safe in the arms of sleep, I'll come by to find safety in yours.
That's because you've yet to find out what you're missing.
Doubt is a spoilsport. Cast it aside.
A match made... not quite in heaven, but close enough.
Merely to share a glass of wine I suppose; to toast to victory and to offer you an invitation.
More's the pity you've already found someone else to make merry with, just the two of you.
He has a certain charm about him, Astarion. Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.
You might be in for an adventure with Karlach. More than you bargained for - with a bit of luck.
Or perhaps more than you bargained for - full stop.
Lae'zel. Blade like a razor, wit like a razor, tongue like a razor.
I do hope you know what you're doing.
There's something... unspeakable about Shadowheart. But I mean that in a good way. She seems to me like a bud on the cusp of bursting into a rose.
That or deadly nightshade.
Far be it from me of course, to question your tastes.
Caught on to that, did you? Might be the wine talking.
Jealousy is in the eye of the beholder. Or something along those lines, the wine might be befuddling me a smidge.
Am I? Perhaps I am. Or perhaps I need another glass of wine.
You're all too quick to abandon the one you promised yourself to. That is not a quality I admire.
No, I was glad you sought me out for an entirely different reason:
I'm sorry, but surely we're friends, allies, the best of companions, but... no more than that.
No, I was glad you sought me out for an entirely different reason: to toast to victory and to offer you an invitation.
Wyll's a good man. He may actually be a tried-and-true storybook hero.
Then again he's so full of himself it's a small miracle he hasn't resorted to self-cannibalism yet.
Good sense will have to wait 'til the morrow
I've said enough. Let silence do the talking.
There's promise in patience, I assure you. Let the night run its course so that we can run ours as well.
Go to Hell.
Hah. You're a good sport.
Oh. Nothing, nothing. I'm just poorly making a point.
Go to Hell.' An everyday expression. So trivial it's almost meaningless.
But we've seen Hell. It's real. And it isn't trivial.
Devils, dragons, mind flayers - they used to be abstracts. Pictures on a piece of paper.
What a difference a day makes.
Now we have tadpoles slithering through our heads like carnivorous foeti.
That's not abstract.
That's the spirit. Let's be up with the lark - find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.
This ballet of flames invites reflection. But you're right.
Let's be up with the lark - find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.
Point well-made, I see.
I'll wake you bright and early. We'll need to find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.
Merely contemplating.
Hold your horses! I'm just poorly making a point.
*Indistinct humming.*
Be with you in a moment!
Indulging in a spot of vanity. Handsome devil, aren't I?
Not a trick, my friend. Magic!
Whatever for? Look at him! Never too much of a good thing, I say.
Be that as it may.
Ceremorphosis. What does it make you think of?
Spot on.
Day one: fever and memory loss.
Day two: hallucinations and greying skin.
Day three: hair loss and blood leaking from all orifices.
Need I go on?
Day four: excruciating pain as the skeleton and organs reform and reposition.
Day five: the host's personality has disappeared. Fingers, toes and limbs elongate.
I take it you get the picture?
Day six: the flesh around the mouth splits to make way for tentacles.
Day seven: a mind flayer is born.
This is the abridged version of course.
The storyteller's gift.
My point is this: our orifices remain blissfully unbloodied. Our heads remain clear, and our blood temperature normal.
Exactly.
Our orifices remain blissfully unbloodied. Our heads remain clear, and our blood temperature normal.
Any expert will agree: this is... abnormal.
I'll toast to that.
The pragmatic in me, however, sees only the silence before the storm.
Something to sleep on. We should get some rest.
That, alas, is where my knowledge fails me.
A rogue might call it luck; a priest might call it fate.
As for myself: I'm a pragmatic. I see the silence before the storm.
Study.
But what is happening, or rather not happening to us, is entirely undocumented.
Uncharted territory. The silence before the storm.
What is happening, or rather not happening to us, is entirely undocumented.
Yes, but that doesn't quite explain little old me, now does it?
Spot on again.
A faultless if abridged version of the facts.
Can't say I blame you.
Ah, yes. The good old days.
Long story short then:
Thanks to the tadpole, we should have developed more than invasive symptoms by now, but we haven't.
Not the prettiest of transmutations, is it?
I saw Lae'zel giving you a look-over. Great minds think alike.
No doubt she came to the same conclusion: we're healthier than we should be.
A gentleman's only as dashing as his least groomed locus.
It's done all that and more at plenty a soirée, I can tell you.
I'm placing my bets on a resounding 'no'. An innocent tiefling died by our hands.
Wonderful! The more, the merrier.
Oh, come on, let her stay - we have room to spare.
We have room at the campfire yet - let the girl stay. I wouldn't want it said that I am any less than a perfect gentleman.
She hardly seems a danger to us. Let the girl stay, if she's desperate enough to think our troupe good company.
Consider that it'll explode, flattening an area larger than Waterdeep.
Cast your mind elsewhere.
Think of Mystra, goddess of magic.
Tara! Is that you?!
I can look after myself, Tara.
Goodness, I'd forgotten. Thank the gods you reminded me before I starved to death.
In fact, I think I feel as bad as I look.
Dare I ask what you're doing here?
Thank you, Tara. I really needed this.
I'm not sure, Tara. It's dangerous out here.
How did you find me?
You need to go home - now. And that's final.
It's good to see you, Tara. I've missed you very much.
Don't get used to it. You need to go back to Waterdeep. Now.
Well, well, well. Look what the tressym dragged in.
You promised to stay in Waterdeep. 'Promise,' verb, meaning to swear something will or will not be done.
Oh! My, you startled me. I... I was miles away.
Of course, of course. I was just... practising an incantation.
She does. She's... She's Mystra.
I can't quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence.
No sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies:
The Weave.
Mystra is all magic. And as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation.
It's a kind of love after all.
I see you understand.
No, but you do understand, don't you?
Magic is... my life. I've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it.
It's like music, poetry, physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses.
Would you like to experience this?
Then follow my lead.
Now you.
Excellent. Now repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao.
Very good. Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can.
Look at that. We're channelling the Weave. How does it feel?
You did it. You're channelling the Weave. How does it feel?
That it does.
You're hard to please, aren't you?
I... I didn't think...
Sorry, I wasn't expecting... But it is a pleasant image to be sure!
Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome.
There it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were in the obtaining.
Good night. I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you.
That was... unnecessary.
There it goes. I suppose a blow to the stomach upsets the Weave as much as it would me.
I'm going to bed. Perhaps this was all a mistake.
Good gods, what on earth makes you picture that?
Quite so. The Weave is a sensitive conduit.
I think it's a mistake to give up on the brink of success, but I cannot force your hand.
Not quite. But this is the easy part. Shall we try again?
No, I'm sorry, but it looks like magic's not on the cards tonight. Perhaps I'm not quite the teacher I fancy myself to be.
In any case, don't blame yourself. Mystra can be a fickle mistress. Coy to a tee.
I think it's a mistake to give up so easily, but I cannot force your hand.
I think it's a mistake to hold that conviction, but I cannot force your hand.
Disinterest is such a disheartening condition.
Always a pity when opportunities slip us by.
Good night.
Is it the same for you?
Perhaps we can share the experience by reaching into the Weave together.
You wouldn't say that if you felt what I feel.
Perhaps I can show you what I mean by reaching into the Weave together.
Fair enough - though in the end we're still playing the same composition.
Yes - as raw and ancient as the veins of Bahamut.
Still, it is magic in its purest, most essential rapture that I'm trying to impart.
Believe it or not, I can relate.
You just don't understand.
Pish posh. One might as well deny one's mother's womb as the cradle of life.
You read too much into it. I was merely indulging in my passion.
Truly.
I do - because it's through practice that I seek to perfect. To augment.
Good night. Yes. Good night.
No, no. She's no one, really. I was just... practising an incantation.
What can I say? She's... She's Mystra.
Not praying. Not quite. I was just... practising an incantation.
I'm no cleric, like you are. It's different for a wizard.
I'm no paladin, like you are. It's different for a wizard.
Long days, yes.
And long, lonesome nights.
Minthara. To sleep with her is to dream of death. Plenty of that to go around.
Bloodshed by day, bloodshed by night. What a jolly bloody life we lead.
This is sobering news indeed, but there's no use crying over spilt milk. If this is our only option, to Moonrise Towers we go.
I thought we shared something special, I truly did. Clearly I'm nothing but a smitten fool...
I'm smarter than that, and so are you. It's part of what drew me to you.
Well, so long as you were able to indulge yourself, I suppose nothing - and nobody - else matters.
You're smarter than that. It's part of what drew me to you.
Some mistakes can't be resolved with an apology. Some mistakes, you have to carry with you, forever.
No, of course she didn't. Why would I want anyone but you...?
I've... misjudged the situation. I gave my heart over to you too freely, and now it has been wounded. A mistake I shall not repeat.
As you say. Perhaps others could turn the other cheek, but I'm not that sort. It's for the best - to spare further heartache.
You still have me as an ally... but anything beyond that was just a fleeting dream - one from which I have now awoken.
If only your mind had been so set last night. But alas, that bell cannot be unrung.
Diminish my feelings if you wish, but do not expect me to take this lying down - that's more your style, from what I can tell. My trust in you is broken.
I had hoped my eyes were deceiving me... but no. You were with her, weren't you?
Forgive me. I was lost in my thoughts, as usual.
I've found myself in something of a quandry. Yours is an opinion I'd gladly hear on the matter.
Careful. You don't know what I'm about to ask.
I fear our unwillingness to make difficult decisions is doing more harm than good.
I regret straying from Mystra's instruction. All the suffering around us, it is our fault. I am reconsidering taking a more drastic approach.
Every day we spend inching our way towards our enemies is a day we choose to let countless die in the Absolute's path.
My apologies. I shouldn't place my own guilt onto your shoulders.
I'm afraid to say I have been holding back. Every. Single. Day.
As always, I'm grateful for your enthusiasm. And yes, it will require some amount of brutality on our part.
We both know the orb I carry inside me is powerful enough to burn away the Absolute's blight in an instant.
But what stays my hand? Obstinacy? Misplaced morals? Simple fear of dying? You?
The inevitable has been delayed far too long already - no more, I say. It's time to make a stand.
A passing fancy, one that has lost its lustre. No - unleashing the power within me will be far more magnificent than some crown.
The day will come when I lose control of the power within me anyway. There's nothing you or I can do to stop that.
Gods damned if I'm going to let it be for nothing. If Mystra gave me one purpose, it was this: to destroy Baldur's Gate, and the Absolute with it.
There isn't.
Caeci verum videant.
Wouldn't I?
With pleasure.
Kill me, and I'll destroy the city anyway.
So quick to turn on your friends... a sure sign of an unsound mind, and a villainous heart.
There is nothing better than leaving in a blaze of glory.
So gentle. You think saving him will stop the bloodshed? It won't.
Most foolish. Wanton violence against your dear Gale? After all, the man has a budding apocalypse tucked beside his heart - you would provoke it?
I know how much power rests within me - enough to turn Baldur's Gate to ashes, its memory to no more than a children's fable.
Act now, and we take out the brain and every footsoldier in the Absolute's army. All their hatred, their bile, their violence - erased. It would finally be over.
Deadly serious. This is the burden we must carry - to condemn the few to save the many, or Baldur's Gate will only be the first city to fall.
That may be, but has it put a stop to the Absolute? Or cured us of our tadpoles?
All we've done is delay the inevitable, a delay that puts thousands more lives at risk. But those lives can be saved.
Of course! I find them to be almost the same quality as my own.
Just a bit of late-night humour for you. Your input would be most welcome.
A puzzle for the mind, I'd solve quite comfortably. Unfortunately, this is a struggle for the heart.
Wait. What I have to say... well, there may not be another chance. Please.
Careful! She's about to lash out.
She needs sleep. And she needs to be closely guarded.
Easy, Wyll. She's no devil. There's no fight to be had here.
You two have met before, I take it?
Stormy introduction aside, might I suggest a partnership instead? The Blade of Frontiers would make a formidable ally.
Say nothing. Wait for him to explain himself.
Mystra sent you? Why?
You underestimate me, Elminster. 'She' could be any number of acquaintances.
You mean the orb. You mean I sacrifice myself.
You promised me plain talk, Elminster. Make it plainer still, or we're done here.
I could possibly put an end to the Absolute - if you aided me.
I am Mystra's servant. If this is what she asks of me, so be it.
That's the cost of Mystra's good graces? Martyrdom?
What other choice do I have?
That's more magnanimous of her than I've grown accustomed to. The catch being?
Keep listening.
Remain silent.
Must have been his simulacrum you bested. He always was a cautious traveller.
I don't understand. How so on my behalf?
Elminster.
I could debate you on that.
I can't say that so far I've volunteered the entire truth.
Not in so many words, no.
Mystra would consider... forgiveness?
The orb.
He is not. But it seems that Mystra is.
I'm glad it's not just me.
No indeed. But I think she trusts me to.
It's all right, Elminster. If ever gallows humour were appropriate, this is its grim-smiling hour.
On my honour, I'm not sure yet I can say the same.
Or some other fortune altogether.
Farewell, Elminster. I'm glad she chose you.
Nor would I expect you to. It is too bleak a task to demand of anyone.
By circumstance, but not by purpose, I swear. I never intended you any harm.
Mystra's delicate feet are ill-suited for the hardships of the road.
Thank you for that most considerate reminder.
The long-awaited question. Now - if you please, Elminster - for the too-long-awaited answer.
I love this time of night.
There's an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you'd almost believe the dawn will never break.
The cradle of eternity.
The timelessness of lovers.
That most beautiful of fantasies.
Indeed. The curse is still present of course - just veiled and at arm's length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight? Tonight is different.
I will be, soon. I am perhaps just one hard day away from being without any troubles at all.
I wanted to see you. While I still could.
So it is. But a very fine one.
This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder...
...and with company to match.
I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter... but I am not so sure.
Babe or crone, coward or hero, death is assured. Mystra's forgiveness is not. If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning?
I am trying. Believe me, I am. The path is set, and I will not stray from it - even as my heart quakes.
I am terrified - I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it even if my words sought to deny it.
There is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms.
Resigned to it, rather. But that is not to say I am without fear. Far from it.
I can only hope that there are few innocents within the Absolute's reach, when the time comes... and that you will seek safety, far away from me.
Stay with me a while, will you? Day will come all too soon, even in this place.
One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, and prise the fear from my heart. I'm so very glad you came, to share this with me.
I know this is all unreal, but I created it for you. You must know that you're... That you're very special to me.
If things were different, if we were home, I'd have taken the time to do things properly. To say it all better. But time is short.
I'm in love with you.
And you're a bad liar. I lived the life of a hermit for some time before I met you - safer for all, but not conducive to pleasures of the flesh.
A fair assessment - I wish we had more time to practice together.
Not if I have any say in the matter.
I want it to be perfect - to bond with you in the way that gods do... intertwining our spirits in visions of the Weave.
How about the perfect night in Waterdeep? Yes... Let's imagine how it would be.
The scene is this: you and I stand in the room that is the centre of my universe.
The sculptures, the paintings, the walls enlivened by the spines of a thousand books.
The grand piano plays the Lliirian Suites all by itself, and as we look out beyond the arches that lead to the terrace, we see the weary sun take its daily dive into the sea.
My favourite spot. Many times, evening turned to night and back to daybreak once more while I sat here, lost in words.
It's called 'The Art of the Night', and it details the first thousand nights of a newlywed king and queen.
On the contrary. No one is lonely when they have books - except perhaps the illiterate.
This one here is called 'The Art of the Night'. It details the first thousand nights of a newlywed king and queen.
They turned everything they did into an art. The art of conversation. The art of taste, time honoured and newly acquired.
The art of the body. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other. The art of the night itself.
I say we take a page from their book.
Then let's set the book aside an be blank slates on blank sheets, delightfully new.
I'm many things, but coy's not one of them.
Then we'll start writing the prequel.
What do you say?
The stars will be our bed. Come here.
Why confine ourselves to the pleasures of mortal flesh? It is but one stitch in a vast tapestry. Let me show you more.
When you wake, it will be back at our camp, back in our small, dirty, bloody patch of existence. But stay with me now. There are endless worlds out there. Countless ways to declare love. Infinite ways to express it. Too much for one night...
...but we shall try.
The old ways then. If that is what you wish, so be it.
A small gesture towards your comfort.
As you like. Thank you, for spending this time with me. If only there was more.
Allow me to live dangerously while I still can.
Are you sure...? I could conjure up any sight that you could dream of, and a few you could not. I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning. I could do more than woo you. I could wow you.
Yes, you are. Trust me, I would know. Let's do it your way then. So long as it's with you.
That's a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself.
I'd give a lot to be able to kiss you right now. But your presence itself is more than enough. A night stargazing with you is the greatest gift I could ask for.
I see... well perhaps this is for the best. Should my time be short, you will not be wounded too deeply by my absence.
Thank you, for spending this time with me. I think I want to be alone now.
Yes... but there is so much to live for, and so few moments in which to house it all.
Damn you. Damn you for giving me so much to care about. Our friends, our adventures... this would have been so much easier if it was just me. But it isn't.
If there is a way - any way - to save all that's grown dear to me, I want to seize it. I just cannot fathom what that might be, other than to fail Mystra and condemn the world.
Stay with me, will you? I don't want to think of it any more, but I don't want to be alone either.
A good night indeed. The fairest I can imagine...
Your words are those of a dear friend, or a lover even. But this is no time for delusions - fate threw us together, and mutual survival kept us together.
Those bonds will soon break. But you were a worthy ally, and could have become much more, in other circumstances. Let us just enjoy the view together. We will leave the world a better place than it is tonight.
Heartening words - if only they came from the lips of another. This is no time for delusion - we are not close, you and I.
But it will not matter, soon enough. Let us just enjoy the view, in silence. We will leave the world a better place than it is tonight.
I can feel it - ever since we set foot in this strange, corrupted land. The closer we get, the heavier my own heart becomes.
Fewer than if the Absolute goes unchecked. I don't want to kill, and I don't want to die... but inaction will lead to bloodshed all the same.
Afraid? No, I am terrified. But fear or courage or reason cannot change the charge I've been given.
Thank you. But even if we do find another way, perhaps this is the right way. The end fate wishes for me.
His disappointment cuts deeper even than Mystra's. He was your hero...
You wonder, did he even try to intervene on your behalf?
You think on the netherese magic affecting your tadpole. A magic Mystra abhors...
To wield enough power to threaten a god. That would be quite something...
The Absolute must be stopped. If this is the only way, so be it.
You failed her once. You will not fail her again.
He would never inflict such cruel terms on you. Mystra must have forced his hand.
Doddering old fool. Trust him to leave the hard work to you.
A familiar feeling rises within you. Temptation...
Such power leads to only one outcome. Corruption...
Nothing, unless you can find a way to defeat the elder brain...
He defies Mystra himself in saying so. He wouldn't do that without good reason.
Elminster's an enigma. Who knows what games he's playing.
She gives what she can. And you receive her aid gratefully.
No. If Elminster believes there's another way, so do you.
You'll die on nobody's orders. Especially not hers.
Not for her, but for everyone else.
You are.
Her gifts have their uses, but she still leaves the hard work to you.
She forced her favours upon you. You owe her nothing.
Useless trifles. She still keeps the Weave's true power for herself.
Impossible. Elminster's utterly devoted to her.
It could be sabotage, an attempt to deny you your chance at redemption...
She has no right to interfere. You don't answer to her.
Dangerous or not, you need all the help you can get.
You've been indulging yourself. No harm in that.
She's going to be disappointed. You've no intention of dying.
You'll learn more about the Heart. Only then will you decide.
You will destroy the Absolute. Not for her, but for everyone else.
You will reward her faith in you. When the time comes, you will be ready.
She might be right. You've drawn powers from a grim source.
Couldn't agree more. But if you use that knife, I will incinerate you.
Well met, stranger.
You find yourself in the presence of the renowned wizarding prodigy, Gale of Waterdeep - please, no need to be intimidated.
My virtuosic talents once caught the eye of the goddess of magic herself, Mystra, who named me her Chosen, and her lover.
Thanks to a slight miscalculation on my part, that relationship eventually soured, as did the greatest of my powers.
Now I'm merely a humble wizard on the road to redemption. Unless I can find the path to something greater...
Not satisfied with this I tried to impress her further, accidentally freeing 'the orb' - a volatile fragment of Weave corrupted by Netherese magic.
The orb buried itself in my chest, primed to unleash destruction - unless I keep it fed with potent magical artefacts.
Now, cast aside by my goddess, stripped of the greatest of my powers, I'm merely a humbled wizard seeking a road to redemption. Unless I can find the path to something greater...
That scamp reminds me of myself when I was a nipper. Always getting into trouble.
And worse.
Comes with the territory.
The straight and narrow is a boring road to walk, my friend.
One time my parents denied me a kitten, so I summoned myself a tressym. Dear old Tara. Beautiful creature.
Benefits of a wizard's education, you see. Of course my considerable talent didn't hurt either.
Well... That depends on who you ask, I suppose. I may have summoned things rather more exotic than a winged cat.
There was that magma mephit once. Nice fellow - we kept in touch.
There was that magma mephit once. K'ha'ssji'trach'ash, in fact. You met him.
Of course, in walked the housekeeper. Screaming, yelling, panic, and before you knew it: fire everywhere.
Anyway, I'm glad we got that boy out of his predicament.
Poor lad would have been harpy feed if it wasn't for you.
Poor lad would have been harpy feed if it wasn't for us.
Only when the occasion suits.
That's mostly a synonym for 'yes', by the by.
Whether the source is blood or books, magic is hard to master. Do or die indeed.
And I can pass water without thinking, but that hardly makes it magic.
Ha! Go on...
Well, well, quite the scamp yourself, aren't you? Luckily they're more fins than fangs at that age.
At least you were never in want of pyjamas.
So you made a cow drop out of the sky, which presumably killed it, and yet somehow you found out her name was Stephanie...
I think I'll need a drink with the rest of that story.
Right. Bound to be more urchins to save around here.
It drew me in. But how?
Safer to be out here than trapped in there. But if I could remain in there safely…
Could the effect be reproduced? Perhaps with the right application of Weave…
I would think Netherese, but that's impossible. And yet…
Elminster came... offered solution... turned... Orin... taken...
Gale... Dekarios...
Bring me back... cast the spell... utmost... importance...
Bring me back... before... too late... must cast the spell...
Not concentrating... my magic... not focused...
Without knowing... without feeling... choking on darkness...
Waterdeep...
Seeking... Karsus' power... failed...
Ending... the Absolute... with a bang...
Seeking... another way... to fight... to win...
Avoiding... ceremorphosis... removing... tadpole...
Wizard... archmage... wielder of the Weave...
Wizard... archmage... companion...
When your sky dims... I will be there... waiting...
No need.
Next you must unthread the purple seam that seals it in a counter-clockwise fashion. Do not touch any other coloured strand.LearnedPouch, LearnedPouch
Inside the pouch, you will find a folded letter and a tiny flute. Unfold the letter, and note the markings in the top and bottom corners. These are the notes you will need to play.LearnedFlute, LearnedFlute
Thank you. Now repeat my instructions back to me, please.
Humour me. I need to be absolutely certain you understand.
And next?
The purple seam indeed. You then have access to the letter and the flute. Continue.
Remember to play them clockwise! And after that?
Listen to your friend. It's K'ha'ssji'trach'ash.
And pay attention to the 'trach' part. Chhh. Back of the throat.
That's not even close. It's K'ha'ssji'trach'ash!
Correct! But pay attention to the 'trach' part. Chhh. Back of the throat.
And so we have gone through the necessary steps again. It is gratifying to see your memory does not fail you!
And so we have gone through the necessary steps again. Let's hope practice makes perfect in the end…
Quite right. You start at the bottom right corner - and remember to play them clockwise! After that?
No, no, no. You start at the bottom right corner - and remember to play them clockwise! After that?
Almost: it's the purple seam. You then have access to the letter and the flute. Continue.
Right. You then have access to the letter and the flute. Go on.
Have it your way. I can only hope your memory stretches further than your patience.
In that case, this will be an easy exercise. Step one?
I'm not trying to try your patience, I simply need to be absolutely certain you understand.
Excellent. Now repeat my instructions back to me, please.
I think ingenious is the word you're looking for. Now repeat my instructions back to me, please.
So it is: our lives depend on it. Now repeat my instructions back to me, please.
Then, my overly incautious friend, I urge you to find some other means of restoring my vitality. Our very lives depend on it.
That would be covered by the 'for reasons that cannot be disclosed' clause, so let's move on.
A grave error in judgement indeed, which we'll pretend was never spoken.
Well met! I am a magical projection of Gale of Waterdeep, and if you see this manifestation, that means I have prematurely perished.GaleDied, GaleDied
However, for reasons that cannot be disclosed, it is of vital importance that my death be remedied at your earliest convenience.
You may rest assured that I do not speak out of self preservation alone: many lives depend on my return to the living within the span of two days.
I trust I have made myself clear?
I have upon my deceased person a magical item that can accomplish my return, but such is the value and rarity that it is protected by a multi-layered security protocol.
I will now explain the protocol:
Step one is to retrieve from my person a pouch I wear over my heart.
Next you must unthread the purple seam that seals it in a counter clockwise fashion. Do not touch any other coloured strand.LearnedPouch, LearnedPouch
Inside the pouch you will find a folded letter and a tiny flute. Unfold the letter, and note the markings in the top and bottom corners. These are the notes you need to play.LearnedFlute, LearnedFlute
Starting from the bottom right, play the notes in correct order - clockwise this time.
Upon completion of the tune, a magma mephit will appear, which will pose the following question: I'ss k'cha t'chiss n'aga?
This is Ignan for 'What is my name?' The answer is 'K'ha'ssji'trach'ash'.
Pronounce the name correctly and the mephit will breathe on the letter. Stay clear because the little scamp can melt metal.
Words will now appear on the letter's surface, effectively turning the letter into a Scroll of True Resurrection. Use it to bring me back to life.
Best of luck with the protocol! May my cold, dead hands soon be refilled with the warmth of life so they can shake yours in gratitude.
Absolutely not.
A fine job you did back there. Not exactly how I would have approached it, but we all have our quirks when it comes to using magic. Some more than others.
You served your goddess well. Not as well as I might have, but the end cares not for the means, and the work was done.
There's the makings of a fine follower of Mystra within you, give or take a few decades of studying the Weave.
Now, given my magical expertise is of limited use to you, was there something else you wanted to ask me about?
Nothing like a good singeing to teach us the perils of dabbling with magic we don't understand. And the wisdom of stepping aside for those who do.
So - assuming you're more willing to take my words to heart from now on - what can I do for you?
Incredible.
A moment's peace, if you will. I need time to process.
Never.
That's certainly a possibility.
Thank you!
Good gods.
I don't know what to make of this. Three artefacts is a positive glut of magic, yet my hunger only grows.
It hardly has any effect. Mystra have mercy on us all.
Listen, I need to speak to you, to all of you. It would be unconscionable of me to remain silent.
I might just be about to remedy that.
I appreciate it greatly, but I can no longer keep you in the dark.
You have to know who I was. You have to know who I really am.
What I am is a walking shadow of the promise I once held.
I'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet.
And a waste it might have been.
Listen, I need to speak to you. It would be unconscionable of me to remain silent.
I might need you to be more specific there. Just one artefact will suffice.
I'm glad to see you're so well-stocked on suitable relics, but I only need one.
Please - just one artefact will be enough for now.
My condition requires a delicate touch. Just one item will suffice to keep it in check.
Perhaps I'm not conveying the urgency of the situation. It's incredibly, world-shatteringly important you give me a suitable artefact. Please.
Most unhelpful. In that case, I shall have to seek my own salvation. Elsewhere.
But it will save my life - even if only temporarily.
Of course. I would hate for you to think me impatient, or ungrateful. I shall persevere, for now.
I see. Let me remind you that this is not something that can be ignored forever. Artefacts are of little use if you don't live to enjoy them.
Very well. A little longer won't hurt... Actually, it might, but I shall try all the same.
I sense you don't quite appreciate the urgency of the matter. Dawdling may cost us dearly.
Well, there was an invitation to leave if I ever heard one. Good luck in your endeavours - you shall certainly need it.
You'll have to excuse me a moment. I've got pondering to do.
Truly horrendous.
Best we save any discussions for later, given the circumstances.
If you'd prefer to rely on beginner's luck than my myriad experiences in studying such magics, who am I to judge?
Always.
Still, what harms Ketheric helps us, and to deny him the source of his invulnerability would be a very efficient way of harming him indeed.
Alas, no. The charm Elminster granted me requires my death as the spark that will light the orb's fuse.
Making myself invulnerable, immortal or in any other fashion unkillable would render it useless. And gods only know what it might do to the orb itself...
Still, I see no harm in learning what we can about this 'Nightsong'. And, if we manage to find it, the harm will be all Ketheric's. So, well worth indulging our curiosity.
Right. Well, far be it for me to stand in the way of true love. Or anything else Minthara wants, for that matter.
Consider our nascent spark of romance thoroughly extinguished. The wizard is out of the picture.
I hope you and Minthara are very happy together. Or miserable. Whatever she prefers.
Ah. Then I expect he's told you at least some of my story? Allow me to give my own side, for a moment.
Your enterprising approach to my problem is most encouraging, but it is a delicate process to keep my condition stable.
I do not yet need to consume an item, but keep it close by. It will not be too much longer.
What, like a child? I'm not quite sure I'd consider myself father material, plus our current lifestyle isn't exactly what I'd call settled...
Share? You're not a loaf of bread to be divvied up at supper-time! I thought what we had meant something to you.
Call me selfish, or old-fashioned, but I cannot agree to that. Either we dedicate ourselves to one another, or this ends here.
Very well. Let's... let's not speak of this again. Given my condition, I'm not sure it's wise for me invite undue stress upon myself.
I see. Thank you - this is most illuminating. I had thought I had the measure of your character, but clearly there is much I have yet to learn.
Enjoy your open relationship. Ideally far from my view.
Apologies. I was foolish enough to convince myself that I was enough for you.
Strangely, no. Once, a mere glimpse of her face would have been enough to turn my insides over, but not this time.
In her likeness, I used to read a thousand stories. She was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes. But now... it is hard to see any redeeming qualities in a lover who condemned you to death.
I'd much rather gaze into your eyes than hers. Yours are capable of tenderness, and feeling. No god could ever compare.
Please, do not not dredge that up. My unhappiness has only just settled to the bottom.
Whatever comes next, I must consider with a rational mind, not an emotional one. There are more important things out there than you and I. You made that quite clear.
Please. There is little more to be said on the subject. The best thing you and I can do is march on... towards whatever awaits us.
The end may be close. Time to reap what we have sown.
She expects those who seek to use the Weave to do so honestly, and with respect for its potential to destroy, as well as its potential to save.
I doubt she's asked many of her followers to blow themselves up. That's a fate she's bequeathed exclusively to me.
She wouldn't ask such a thing if it weren't our only means of survival. However much she's annoyed at me.
Oh, you know me - ever the optimist. I'm trying to focus on the positives.
The truth is, I was living on borrowed time already. Consuming those items would only have kept the orb sated for so long.
If anything, I feel more at peace than I have in months. At least now I know my death will have purpose. It won't be a distant 'bang' in the footnotes of history.
I can only imagine what I could do were I to adopt the biology of a mind flayer...
It certainly doesn't seem to have done you any harm. Or rather, you've not yet done me any harm. Still, there are undoubtedly risks to such a transformation.
If this is what the fates have offered to aid our cause, then who am I to refuse? I'll take your tadpole. Let's see what it has to offer.
In spite of my admittedly fierce curiosity, I'll have to decline. My humanity, however frail, is rather important to me for now. I'd rather keep it intact, if it's all the same to you.
You've not taken this power for yourself. So I can only wonder, why offer it to me?
I think not. She's furious I refused her, of course, but she wouldn't deprive the realms of my abilities at such a critical juncture.
Of course, if I succeed in wielding the crown, she'll have no say on the matter. But first, we must find a way to claim it.
She has interfered to the extent she is permitted to. What happens next depends on us, and whether we can destroy the Absolute without using the orb.
I've often asked myself the same question, and never really found a satisfactory answer.
He clearly sees something in me that I can't. The wisdom and intelligence required to overcome almost insurmountable odds, perhaps. Or the stupidity required to attempt it.
I take it as a compliment either way. You don't get to be thirteen centuries old without becoming a sound judge of character. And cheese, apparently.
I regret many things in my life. Choosing to be here, intact and unexploded, is not one of them.
The orb's power is undiminished. If we do not succeed, I will not hesitate when the time comes.
For now, to have a few more days in your company... no, I wouldn't change a thing.
Though the orb still seems to offer our best hope of destroying the brain, I retain some hope that another, less costly solution can be found.
I know what it is to hunger... and I know what it takes to keep that hunger under control. He's done that so far, despite his condition.
So long as he sates his appetite elsewhere, I'm happy to give him the benefit of the doubt.
We all have our burdens, one way or the other.
Memory loss isn't usually a symptom of ceremorphosis. If it is, they've forgotten to write it down in any text I've read on the subject.
Then again, our case isn't exactly usual. Perhaps whatever's causing our tadpoles to remain in stasis has also affected your mind.
Still, I see no harm in learning what we can about this 'Nightsong'. And, if we manage to find it, the harm will be all Ketheric's. So, well worth indulging our curiosity
I do not yet need to consume an item, but keep it close by. It will not be too much longer
If anything, I feel more at peace than I have in months. At least now I know my death will have purpose. It won't be a distant 'bang' in the footnotes of history
She has interfered to the extent she is permitted to. What happens next depends on us, and whether we can destroy the Absolute without using the orb
Of course, if I succeed in wielding the crown, she'll have no say on the matter. But first, we must find a way to claim it
I take it as a compliment either way. You don't get to be thirteen centuries old without becoming a sound judge of character. And cheese, apparently
So long as he sates his appetite elsewhere, I'm happy to give him the benefit of the doubt
As regards to your own morbid little fantasies, I'm sure they're nothing to worry about. So long as they remain fantasies
I'm sure that will be of small comfort to her
I can hardly hold you responsible for what you do while unconscious, but still... I'll sleep with one eye open. Better safe than, well, dead.
Beggars can't be choosers. Such a powerful form should serve us well in the chaos to come
What's done is done, I suppose. But I'd be loathe to cause such destruction again. Not unless the alternative is far, far worse
I know what it is to have a closer connection than most with the gods. But with Bhaal... that's not a bond I'd like to be bound with. You should be careful. Very, very careful.
I wasn't sure if we'd lose you to that darkness entirely. I'm glad to know you've found your way back to us
Mystra.
I am as honoured as I am enamoured. I am not the only one who longs for you... yet you chose me.
I thought you might have been won over by Astarion. His gaudy flourishes no doubt have made many swoon...
You remembered where to find me, then?
I know Astarion has a hold on your heart. No doubt he quickens your pulse far more than I. What's a humble archmage in the face of such rakish charms?
I'm surprised you abandoned me for Wyll, of all people. Had I known you'd a taste for dull blades, I'd have gladly conjured a bouquet of cutlery.
No doubt it's quite something, to have the heart of one like Karlach. My passion must have seemed damp as a sahuagin's armpit, once you felt the fire within her.
Perhaps Lae'zel gave you have permission to be here? I was foolish trying to court you when what you truly desired was to be conquered.
You obviously prefer Shadowheart's company to mine. Perhaps I should have taken a leaf from her book and remained an enigma, instead of letting you read me, cover to cover.
To choose Minthara over, well, anyone... It's certainly a brave decision. One might hazard to say reckless. Stupid. Fatal...
Sorry. I'm feeling bitter. Though I think I'm entitled to, given I know exactly what you came here to say.
We didn't just make love. We bonded, body and soul. I got lost in you.
And now you've left me stranded, without compass nor map.
I'm afraid you can't always have what you want.
I think it's best we close off this little chapter of ours, and focus on writing the rest of the book. Though if it's all the same to you, I'll be skipping the romance.
An icicle through the heart would have been kinder.
Did you expect I wouldn't hear about you sharing your affections with somebody else? If you had doubts about us, you should have talked to me.
This is hardly the time for idle banter. The Annals of Karsus are here, waiting to be read...
Yes. What is it?
You need something of me?
What do you need?
Always a delight to speak with you. What can I do?
I do enjoy our conversations. What do you need?
Tell me - what can I do for you?
Much as I enjoy our conversations, I think it's Elminster we should be catching up with.
It doesn't do to keep a wizard waiting, especially one of Elminster's reputation. Not to mention appetite. We should join him in camp at the first opportunity.
Unless there's something more pressing you wish to discuss?
My time is yours. What do you need?
Whatever you need, you have only to ask.
Anything I can do for you - consider it most enthusiastically done.
The Karsite Weave.
Always a pleasure to share a moment with you, if not in the way I once envisioned. What do you need of me?
A wizard's tower. Familiar territory for you as it is for me, no doubt. Imposing places, hiding their secrets well.
A word of advice - wizards' towers can be volatile places. They keep their secrets buried, and their dangers close to the surface.
One misplaced spell and you might find yourself thrown into Limbo, fighting off a Death Slaad with a very  nasty temper.
I'm sure whatever's on your mind poses no such risk, but caution is to be advised. Now, what can I do for you?
I thought Lae'zel was sure to lay claim to you. Hazardous perhaps, to deny her...
The crown.
I thought perhaps Karlach had won your heart. To say she is a strong woman is an understatement for the ages...
I must admit I am surprised - not to mention flattered, elated, and a little frightened. Such stiff competition... and yet you chose me.
Then I'm glad to have met your standards. And intend to prove your appraisal more than correct.
Perhaps, but unbecoming of me to flat out state it. I will make it my mission to prove you made the right choice. A thousand times over.
The best cure for doubt is study and experimentation. And an experiment must be repeated thrice in order to ensure accuracy, of course.
If you did want to repeat it thrice, I can make myself available...
Apologies - I am a babbling brook of romantic verbage. Consider my mouth sealed... until you have use for it, of course.
Karsus.
Wyll would make for a dashing prince in many a romantic tale... and yet you turned to the book of Gale.
Is something on your mind? You can always unburden yourself with me.
Are you all right? If you have need me, just say the word.
Yes, my love?
Did you need something?
What is it?
You need me?
What's on your mind? Apart from finding me an artefact to consume, which I assume you're pursuing with the appropriate urgency.
You'll have to speak slowly. I'm finding quite difficult to concentrate with my condition gnawing at my insides like a teething displacer kitten.
The Crown of Karsus.
You look... comfortable. I'd no idea you were inclined to such contraptions. Whatever oils your leather, I suppose.
So, ahem, what's on your hind? I mean mind.
Hardly.
You look... comfortable. A mite over-exposed, given the perils of our adventure, but I suppose it adds a thrilling edge to leave oneself to open to danger, and... other things.
I assume your choice of apparel isn't the subject of the day. What's on your hind? I mean mind.
You have a familiar twinkle in your touch... you're a wizard, aren't you?
Would you consider yourself particularly well-read? The aid of someone learned would be of great use to me.
The limited time for reading that undergoing ceremorphosis leaves pains me so.
Mystra's elbow! We truly are doomed.
You and I both know the aid a powerful sage could bring us.
My apologies, don't get your robes in a ruffle!
Oh, don't compare yourself to Khelben. He wastes far too much of his time dying.
Hmm, you do have a bit of a glassy look in your eye to be an apprentice.
We must trust one another, apprentice. You know as well as I: a powerful sage could help us with our plight.
All that scares me in this world is the unknown. Is it brute force that saves you and I each day in battle? No: it's our greater knowledge.
If you meet any elder wizards, let me know. There is a matter I'd like to seek advice on from a master.
You're not versed in magic, are you?
No matter to worry the unlettered over.
Oh, I do apologise. I meant to ask: are you studied in magic. Namely: are you a wizard? Which you are not.
I thought you might drown in Shadowheart's dark eyes... yet you swam to the shores of Gale.
Ah. Quite. A misadventure from my days as an apprentice at Blackstaff Academy.
I was but a child, only a few months into my studies, but already I knew I was destined for greatness. No one believed me, of course, so I decided to prove it. To cast a spell with the Blackstaff itself.
From one perspective, I succeeded. I opened a portal. However, instead of pointing it at the first year dormitory, I found myself pulled into limbo, facing a very irritated Death Slaad.
Fortunately, the Blackstaff himself came to the rescue, hauling me back from the brink, and straight into several months of writing lines. Or rather, finessing my autograph.
Now, much as I enjoy reminiscing about such tomfoolery, I believe we've more pressing matters at hand. Is there anything else?
I've had my suspicions about you for some time now. And there you go, confirming them with truly audacious gusto.
You're a vampire.
Aha! I knew it. I knew you'd try something like that eventually. Though I wish you'd done it with a bit less enthusiasm.
Still, I can hardly blame a vampire for being true to its nature. You are a vampire, are you not?
There was nothing friendly about what you just did to me. But I'll humour you - we'll call that a momentary lapse in good sense, shall we?
I thought I'd awaken feeling, well, drained. But I seem to be quite as well as ever.
Admittedly, that's not saying much given our ongoing predicament. Nonetheless, I'm glad I woke up when I did.
As I said, I'm willing to move past the whole exsanguination issue, so long as you can promise to keep that hunger of yours in check.
I know what it is to have an uncontrollable hunger within you. You can hardly be blamed for your desperation in trying to satisfy it.
So, we move forwards. And when the occasion arises, we show our enemies exactly how sharp those teeth of yours can be.
A choice both efficient and pragmatic. Most unlike you.
Well then - let's hope you've strength to spare.
And how are you this morning, my blood-thirsty friend?
If you'd had your way our number would be one fewer by now. We're fortunate you were caught red-fanged.
Still, there was no real harm done. So long as you can keep that craving of yours in check, I'm happy that our paths remain aligned.
I think it's about time you and I had a little chat. An honest one.
At first I wasn't sure. Some of your behaviour doesn't exactly match what my traveller's tomes describe of one of your... disposition.
The ability to walk in broad daylight, for example, with not a burn in sight. I suppose we have your parasite to thank for that.
But as for the rest - well, there can be only one conclusion. You're a vampire.
Do not undersell yourself, you may not have the grand lair nor loyal swarm but a vampire spawn is still part of the vampire family. Technically.
The real conundrum here is why weren't you honest with me?
I'm quite open-minded. It's one of my finer qualities, and there's some stiff competition in that department.
Nothing wrong with a bit of caution, I suppose. Better to sound out friends and enemies alike before revealing that kind of secret.
With that said, I'm more than happy to continue onwards. But no more hiding things from me. Agreed?
*Sigh.* I suppose that will do for now. But none that pose the threat of imminent death or destruction, for me, or yourself, or anyone else for that matter.
You almost said that without smiling.
Now, unless you've any other deep, dark secrets to own up to, shall we continue on?
I'll take that as a no, shall I? *Sigh*. It was worth a try.
I can tell you what I don't like. Unwittingly sleeping next to someone with a taste for blood and a tendency to lie about it.
I'm happy to draw a line under the matter and move forward. But from here on, no more hiding things from me. Agreed?
How tragic. Well, lucky for you your master couldn't predict the observational cunning of our troupe's resident Waterdhavian wizard. Your silence spoke volumes.
I'm sure you could have found your way around that with a bit of imagination.
I can see the truth in that. But you and I aren't 'most people'.
I don't care if you eat blood or boiled eggs for breakfast, but if we're to survive this parasitic adventure of ours, we have to trust each other.
Oh, it was quite easy, really. I took note of certain abilities you possessed, certain aspects of your behaviour depending on our environment. And those teeth of yours. Quite the pair of canines.
No need to deny it. The bat's out of the bag, so to speak.
But why weren't you honest with me?
I see. You're a dishonest vampire, and that's far worse.
As you're not willing to engage in a frank conversation on the matter, I think we'll leave it there.
I knew you had some dark secret to hide, but a vampire spawn? It wouldn't have been my first guess, I'll put it that way.
I'd have appreciated your honesty a lot more had it been offered prior to us setting off on this adventure together.
My neck's puncture-free, I've not experienced any overwhelming desire to exsanguinate my nearest and dearest... I can only conclude there's no harm done.
But what does this revelation of yours mean for us going forward?
Debatable. But our common goals remain common, so I see no point in depriving each other of an ally.
Now with added bite.
And gods forbid it should be you who's kept in the dark.
For now, let's consider that particular matter settled. Was that the only thing on your mind?
Is that so? Well let's hope that continues to be the case. There's no guarantee our cure will be found lurking in the darkness, after all.
A vampire and a fugitive? You've got everything going for you, haven't you?
And if he does, he'll not find you alone.
Hmm. Well, I appreciate your honesty. If you trust me enough to confess this, in spite of our disagreements, that's no small thing.
Well, I suppose that explains why we don't often see eye-to-eye. Or tooth-to-fang, as is apparently the case.
A vampire spawn? I'd hazard that's an attribute you're well justified in keeping to yourself. I'm glad you felt you could trust me with it.
Come now - I can see there's something on your mind.
Such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady of Mysteries. The goddess Mystra.
She revealed herself to me and she became my teacher. In time, she became my muse, and later, even my lover.
Oh yes.
We enjoyed each other's company - body, mind and soul. But even so, I desired more.
You see, no matter how powerful a wizard we mortals can become, we never scratch more than the surface of the Weave.
Mystra keeps us in check. There are boundaries she doesn't let us cross. Yet every time I was with her, I stood on the precipice, gazing into the wonders that lay beyond.
I sought to cross her boundaries.
I tried to convince her. I pouted, I pleaded, I swore my ambition was only to serve her better. But she only smiled and told me to be contented.
As inconceivable as it seems to me now, I shared a bed with a goddess and yet I wasn't satisfied. So I sought to prove myself worthy to her instead.
We come now to the crux of my folly. Shall I share the story behind it, or would you rather head straight to its sordid finale?
Very well. Here goes:
Once upon a very long time ago, a mighty lord lived in a tower. A flying tower, to be precise.
I'll save his history for another time, but the gist of it is that he sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself.
He almost managed, but not quite, and his entire empire - Netheril - came crashing down around him as he turned to stone.
The magic unleashed that day was phenomenal, roiling like the prime chaos that outdates creation.
Even the Weave itself could not withstand the onslaught. It fractured, then shattered, and all magic was lost to the mortal realms until the day Mystra returned.
She restored the Weave, reuniting all its scattered shards. Or so I thought, until in the course of my studies I learned of a book. A Netherese tome in which a piece of the fractured Weave had been sealed beyond her reach.
What if', I thought, 'What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the goddess?'
The answer was to try, and the outcome was to fail.
You know me. My gestures can never be grand enough.
I certainly thought so. Sometimes there is great strength to be found in symbolism.
I was certain that this deed of raw power draped in romance would convince Mystra to take me by the hand and welcome me into her hitherto forbidden domains.
I was mistaken.
I obtained the fabled book and took it into my study. As for what happened next...
Here. Place your hand over my heart. Let me show you.
Terrifying isn't it? And that is only the beginning.
This Netherese blight... this orb, for lack of a better word, is balled up inside my chest. And it needs to be fed.
As long I absorb traces of the Weave from potent enough sources, it remains quiet. Were it ever to fully destabilise, however...
I will erupt.
I don't know the exact magnitude of the eruption, but given my studies of Netherese magic, I'd say even a fragment as small as the one I carry...
It'd level a city the size of Waterdeep.
Fortunately, this need no longer be a concern. Not until I meet the Heart of the Absolute - whatever that is.
I swear to you I wasn't. But I've no choice but to admit I am now. Perhaps it would be best if I leave and put as much distance between us as I can before the orb erupts.
Carry out Mystra's wishes, I suppose. Though that would be a very drastic solution, if you can even call it that.
We might chance upon a king's collection of magical artefacts around the corner. We might cross paths with a miracle round the bend. Then again - we might not.
All of this... It must feel like a betrayal. Say the word, and we'll part ways.
That is - a great relief. Oh, a great relief indeed!
You truly are a soul that steels my own. From all my new-rallied heart I thank you.
I thank you all. I understand if you stand against me. I'm humbled if you stand with me. Either way, I will do my best not to let you down.
I stand at a precipice, but if you do not give up hope, neither shall I. I'll fight, I'll resist - as long as I can.
Now - even I am tired of the sound of my own voice. Let us venture forth.
Once I'd step out of the protective aura of the artefact, it wouldn't be long before the Absolute overtakes me. I'd never let that happen, so I'd aim for a swift end.
I would consume some Midnight Tears and venture as deep into the Underdark as I possibly could, until they cloud my eyes forever.
With a bit of luck I'd manage to make it to a mind flayer colony, so that when the orb erupts, one loud, last song of vengeance would reverberate through the dark.
It wouldn't be a heroic end, but coarsely poetic enough in its justice.
I understand. I harbour you no ill will. In fact I enjoyed your company, even throughout this harrowing journey of ours.
My tale is at an end, but yours is not. Beat that damn parasite in your head. Win the day and celebrate the nights.
Farewell.
I know.
Every waking moment. Every dreaming moment too. But there was no way out.
Perhaps that is what I deserve, but you deserve no such thing. To kill me is to unleash the orb.
Rather worse, actually.
Thankfully, the moment I absorbed the fragment wasn't enough to kill me outright. It was only the beginning.
I'm sorry, but I had to. After all, this is only the beginning.
I'm sorry, but I had to remind you. After all, this is only the beginning.
All this time, I've been travelling with you despite the tadpole in your head.
We are none of us monsters. We are merely hatcheries for monstrous things.
And still it gets worse...
I don't discredit my reasoning. Alas that my execution was rather less sound.
Suffice it to say I obtained an obscure and ancient book that had locked away inside a much-coveted prize:
It was a fragment of primal Weave locked out of time - locked away from Mystra herself.
Quite.
Though not, I think, my methods.
Perhaps. But enticements beyond the perimeters of mortality are powerful motivators.
I am, after all, the villain of the tale.
A mortal enchanted by the allures of the divine: is that not a tale as old as time? I merely happen to be one of its protagonists.
It is fair to say her intimacy is not easily won. Nevertheless, I did.
It wouldn't be a heroic end, but coarsely poetic enough in its justice
Total amnesia isn't usually a symptom of ceremorphosis. If it is, they've forgotten to write it down in any text I've read on the subject.
If ceremorphosis takes place, all trace of your former self will be subsumed into the mind flayer's hive. So, to still be here, if a mite forgetful? Still a win in my book.
We all have those from time to time.
I once wished a most impure demise on a colleague of mine who bought the last remaining copy of Etheril's Enchiridion of Enchanting Easements. First edition, too.
As regards to your own morbid little fantasies, I'm sure they're nothing to worry about. So long as they remain fantasies.
I'm sure that will be of small comfort to her.
Honestly, I didn't know you had it in you. A dark destroyer in our midsts.
It's certainly one of the more unsightly shape-shiftings I've seen, but we can't all be blessed with the elegance of an aasimar transforming in the heavens, can we?
Beggars can't be choosers. Such a powerful form should serve us well in the chaos to come.
Can't say that it did. I'm not entirely sure we made the right decision there, if I'm being honest with you.
What's done is done, I suppose. But I'd be loathe to cause such destruction again. Not unless the alternative is far, far worse.
A Bhaalspawn? Gosh.
Nothing like ridding oneself of a god's unwanted influence to lighten the load on your shoulders.
I wasn't sure if we'd lose you to that darkness entirely. I'm glad to know you've found your way back to us.
The Chosen of Bhaal? I can think of a few gods I'd rather serve, to be honest.
So long as our quest leads us to the destruction of the Absolute, I suppose we should continue on together. But I tell you now - I've no interest in serving any god, Bhaal or otherwise.
Entirely up to you. What's on your mind?
That hit the spot.
I can feel it work. The magic is like a lullaby that sings to sleep the demon inside.
A metaphorical demon I haste to point out. But no less dangerous - and no less bound to wake up again to continue its ravages. Such is the nature of all monsters.
Oh, it's not so bad once you get used to it. And on the plus side, my tower in Waterdeep has never been so free of clutter.
My words. My actions. My award winning smile.
Grateful as I am, the course of our camaraderie is much better served by not taking that particular detour. Not just yet.
Sincerely though: I understand I ask a lot from you with few answers in return, but in time all will be told.
I bow to your boundless kindness.
I understand your reluctance, but to ignore my condition is to invite catastrophe.
Please, think on the matter. I trust that during our travels you'll navigate ample leagues of progressive insight.
Compose a thousand stanzaed ode titled A Gale of Thanks and Adulation?
It is a strange experience each time anew - like a lost soul is spelunking through the darkness that is me, only to be sacrificed on the dread altar of the heart.
Somehow the second artefact hasn't had the effect of the first. It's somewhat relieved the discomfort, but I fear my hunger hasn't quite... Ahh...
But... this doesn't feel quite right... It never feels right, but it relieves. This doesn't relieve... Ahh...
The magic isn't having the effect it should have. It's not like last time, like a rainstorm that quells a forest fire.
It merely drizzles. The embers still sizzle. The fire remains undefeated.
I'm not certain what's going on, but nothing good. Please, I need to think... I need to retrace my steps to a glade of calm and think.
Thank you, for the artefact. A great deal of trouble it was to... A great deal of trouble indeed.
You do plenty for me, more than you realise. But this cannot be remedied.
Ever the pragmatist in chief, aren't you?
There's the magic word.
We absolutely should. After all, I need to undo the misconception you've had better.
The white queen moves up and right, diagonally, two squares, so that she threatens the black king and is covered by her white knight.
The king can only respond by capturing the knight, but in doing so gets trapped by his own pawn and bishop, so the queen can checkmate by moving one more square up and to the right.
Queen to H8 - that's the upper right corner - then to D8, four squares left.
The king can only withdraw to one square after the first move, and after the second has nowhere to retreat.
Let's see... the white queen moves all the way across and captures the black pawn. The black king is in check, so he has to retreat a square left.
Then, the queen takes the other pawn, one square up and left, while moving in the protection of the bishop.
You threaten the black king with your rook by moving it one square right. That gives black two choices:
The black bishop can take the white rook, in which case your queen is free to move three squares to the right, and checkmate the king under cover of your knight...
... or, the king can retreat up and right, but then your knight can move two squares left and one up to mate the king while the rook covers all escapes.
There's nothing that would give me greater pleasure.
Gods, don't tempt me. I'm finding it hard enough to resist you as it is.
You must know, our relationship is the brightest spot in our otherwise bleak endeavour.
To know you are not frightened by my ambition. That you would nurture it, and meld it with your own... I cannot imagine a better partner on any plane of existence.
You are everything to me, and yet our relationship is only a nascent fraction of what it will become. You give me hope, and I've not had that in some time.
To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command... None have loved me so purely before.
Oh. I see. That's disappointing.
You've actually caught me at an inopportune time. Blasted dust in my eye. Excuse me...
Oh, you know. Filled with the bottomless dread that can only come from your own impending and self-inflicted death.
Glad to have met you though. At least I'm going out on a high.
Grateful, mostly. For meeting you. For having someone who cares that I'm here, alive, and not reduced to a cloud of netherese vapour.
Someone apart from my tressym, that is.
Trying not to think about what lies ahead, if I'm being honest.
I'd have hoped to spend our final moments together somewhere more romantic, but it seems we won't have much of a say in the matter.
Worried, if I'm being honest. I have so much to live for - more than I thought I'd have again, after Mystra.
But being in this place, knowing what lies within poses such a threat... I hope the only heart that's broken here is the Absolute's. I'd never forgive myself for breaking yours.
Glad to be alive, but mostly frustrated that we came so close to the source of our strife - that brain -and left it intact.
Still, each new dawn with you is a blessing I didn't dare to hope for. Selfish as I'm no doubt being - I'm grateful for that.
More excited than I've been in months. I can't tell you how curious I am to learn more about the crown controlling that elder brain.
Believe me when I say how important this could be for me. For both of us. Potentially lifesaving, so long as we can learn how it can be taken, and used.
Wonderful. At last, I can see a path ahead that doesn't end with me needing to turn this city into a desolate wasteland.
I'm not sure I'd be brave enough for such a dream without you by my side. So, thank you. For believing in me.
The same way as you are, I hope. Determined. Focused. A tad impatient.
With the crown, our fates will be in our owns hands at last. So long as we do't let go of each other.
Like I missed a golden opportunity. And now I'm going to pay a far higher price for the same prize.
When the time comes for the orb to fulfil its purpose, I will think of only one thing. Your face. Nothing else will matter.
At a loss, really. People have always commented on my confidence, sometimes my over-confidence, and in one particularly cut-throat assessment at university - my 'abject and incorrigible self-delusion.'
To put my faith in someone else, and trust that we will find a better way together... it's a rather new experience for me. One I'm enjoying, for the most part. But a new one nonetheless.
I'm many things to many people, but I'm never a man to throw the l-word around lightly.
I said exactly what I meant: I love you. You should never, never doubt that.
Plenty of them. And all complicated.
It's not easy to turn away from one you once loved, but now that I see our relationship with all the illumination hindsight has to offer, I mostly feel only regret.
I was not the first wizard to fall under her spell, nor will I be the last. I was an amusement to her, a mortal to be trifled with, amused, and eventually discarded.
I regret the way I hurt her. Of course I do. But she would have seen me destroy myself to earn her forgiveness. There is no love lost between us. None at all.
What a question...
No, you are not the first. Though you are the first since my relationship with Mystra came to its ignominous end.
When the true danger posed by my condition became apparent, I had no choice but to sequester myself away from civilised society. A reclusive wizard - who'd have thought?
After so long with Mystra, I have to say the pleasures of mortal love are much sweeter than I remember. Though perhaps that's simply because it's with you.
No matter. After all, a bond like ours hardly needs words to express it. What else is troubling you?
You are everything to me, and yet our relationship is only a nascent fraction of what it will become. You give me hope, and I've not had that in some time
To put my faith in someone else, and trust that we will find a better way together... it's a rather new experience for me. One I'm enjoying, for the most part. But a new one nonetheless
Glad to have met you though. At least I'm going out on a high
Someone apart from my tressym, that is
I'd have hoped to spend our final moments together somewhere more romantic, but it seems we won't have much of a say in the matter
But being in this place, knowing what lies within poses such a threat... I hope the only heart that's broken here is the Absolute's. I'd never forgive myself for breaking yours
Still, each new dawn with you is a blessing I didn't dare to hope for. Selfish as I'm no doubt being - I'm grateful for that
Believe me when I say how important this could be for me. For both of us. Potentially lifesaving, so long as we can learn how it can be taken, and used
I'm not sure I'd be brave enough for such a dream without you by my side. So, thank you. For believing in me
With the crown, our fates will be in our owns hands at last. So long as we do't let go of each other
When the time comes for the orb to fulfil its purpose, I will think of only one thing. Your face. Nothing else will matter
I said exactly what I meant: I love you. You should never, never doubt that
I regret the way I hurt her. Of course I do. But she would have seen me destroy myself to earn her forgiveness. There is no love lost between us. None at all
After so long with Mystra, I have to say the pleasures of mortal love are much sweeter than I remember. Though perhaps that's simply because it's with you
Shar, eh? Goddess of blackest night and the most melancholy souls... I suspected there was more to your secrecy than met the eye.
Far be it for me to judge others for their choice of goddess. Though I hope there's some light for you, amongst all that darkness. Those who give Shar too much purchase can find themselves snuffed out completely.
Thank you for trusting me. I assure you, your secret is safe with me.
I see you've taken Shar's love of secrecy to heart.
Better to be told late than never, I suppose. But in future - I find that honesty is the best policy when it comes to finding allies. And keeping them.
Better to illuminate one's darkest depths early on in any promising relationship. Less chance of drowning in them later on. Thank you for telling me.
Not a goddess whose attention I would usually welcome. I'd my suspicions of course, but I'm not entirely pleased to have them confirmed.
Don't get me wrong, you did well! The somatic component, the verbal component, even the focus on the inner self that invites Mystra in.
Why would you even bring this up? Come, let's go. I'm not in the mood for chatter.
Out!
I'm certain it was merely prudence steering Jaheira's hand, and not any mistrust as to our heroic abilities.
Fairly certain. Prudence was a contributing factor, at the very least.
If that charlatan Lorroakan thinks he can best Dame Aylin, he's even more clueless than I believed.
We should inform her of his delusions. No doubt she'll have great fun dispelling them.
A devil and devil hunter, standing shoulder to shoulder against a common enemy. Rather poetic, I think.
Your parents will soon be well again, and you will have much to catch up on. Something to look forward to, once the world is safe again.
A privilege to witness such a reunion. Shadowheart deserves to have her family restored, when Shar has taken so much from her already.
You possess great strength of will, to resist the lure of such powers as Cazador sought to wield.
An admirable choice, if not one that will make achieving our purpose any easier.
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. But not yet, so what can I do for you?
I think we taught that inquisitor a very valuable lesson. He won't be ambushing anyone else in a hurry. Or doing anything else, for that matter.
A pity that Shadowheart chose to depart out company. I'd grown quite fond of that Sharran wit of hers.
We have our first victory, but we'll need more before this day is through. The momentum is with us - we must keep moving.
What life is left to you now, I wonder? A slow decline? A sudden, painful extinguishing? Bhaal does not forgive.
I shouldn't speculate on such matters. We'll find out in due course, I'm sure.
A githyanki joining our company. Not a collaboration I'd have anticipated, but a welcome one nonetheless.
Orin, masquerading as Minthara... That certainly explains her vociferous antipathy towards me.
Who knows how long the real Minthara has been strapped to Orin's altar? We owe it to her to bring her back safely. She would do no less for you or I.
So much blood... I wonder, will I ever get the stink of it from my nostrils...
Revenge is a dish best served hot, it seems. At least when you're in charge of the menu.
Quite the risk, to place your faith in the promises of one outside Vlaakith's control. I knew there was a rebellious streak in you somewhere.
What will Voss have to show for himself when we catch up with him, I wonder?
His intelligence may yet prove the key to unlocking the artefact's secrets. We should ensure we follow up when we reach Baldur's Gate.
Beneath her forbidding countenance, I sense this cleric will prove quite the companion. A wise decision to let her join us.
Goblins aren't known for their cleanliness, but by Mystra's mantle, this place is rotten. The fewer breaths we take here, the better.
Thank Mystra for that. Can't say I was enamored with the thought of spending my final moments buried under a thousand tonnes of limestone.
Another joins our merry band. We'll need to keep our wits sharp around him, I think.
None should be forced to make such a choice. If Orpheus is willing to undergo ceremorphosis, then it is his will, and should be respected.
A grim sight to behold when you're as bone-weary as we are.
It is unsettling, to know we have such eyes as Orin's upon our party.
Sorry - I didn't ask why you sought me out. Do you need anything of me?
Ceremorphosis is Karlach's only chance of survival. It must be her.
I've never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.
It is the very antithesis of all the Weave stands for, a magic of confusion and corruption, drawn forth only by those desperate or damned enough to accept its degradations.
Followers of Mystra - those who call on the true Weave - are expressly forbidden to indulge it.
Mystra's domain is the Weave, and the magic that courses through it.
These shadows were drawn from another source, created by another goddess: Shar.
Mystra cannot destroy it, even if she wishes to, but she can try to ensure her followers resist its temptations.
Now, I think it's time we moved on to lighter subjects, before we too are lost to the darkness. Was there anything else?
Aha. What an interesting question...
Technically, of course I could dabble in such practices. I've yet to find a form of magic I'm not a born natural in wielding.
As for whether I should wield it... that would rather depend on the circumstances. And how closely I felt Mystra was watching...
I did. But our situation warrants we explore every opportunity presented to us, however grim.
Not necessarily.
Magic has no inherent morality - it's effect is entirely down to the inclinations of the wielder.
Even Mystra herself abstains from passing judgement on those who use the Weave. Her job is to ensure magic exists, not to dictate the purposes to which it is applied.
There's no denying a certain perfume of decay hangs over such dark magic, but that isn't to say it can't be put to good use. Or at the very least, neutral use.
I'd say I've learned to interpret it with a degree of flexibility.
Her doctrine is more than just a personal opinion - it forms the very essence of wizardry. I'm in no rush to discard it.
Of course. Sometimes I forget who I'm travelling with. It takes some getting used to, walking amongst peers again.
Whoever inflicted the shadows on this land was no ordinary spellcaster. And certainly had no fear of Mystra's punishment for doing so.
True enough. The gods can be loathe to tread on one another's toes, claws, wings and so forth. But they think little of controlling mortals.
A very hard thing to predict. We've already witnessed the myriad forms its corruption has inflicted on this land and its inhabitants.
I think a quick death is the best one could hope for.
Not all wizards are made the same, nor do we wield the same powers.
This magic is the very antithesis of all the Weave stands for, a magic of confusion and corruption, drawn forth only by those desperate or damned enough to accept its degradations.
Hmm. I suspect we define the word differently, but nonetheless - this is a place where it's best applied. This magic is dangerous.
The sooner we're back on solid ground, the better.
No sense dawdling. Karlach has precious little time left to her - we'd do better than to waste it.
Who knew Vlaakith and Mystra would have so much in common? Both set on flinging their followers towards destruction without so much as deigning to justify it.
Your devotion is impressive, but be careful it's not fatal. Gods consider mortals like us a cheap token to trade in for their desired outcomes, at least in my experience.
Lae'zel's devotion is impressive, but if she's not careful it will be fatal. Gods consider mortals like us a cheap token to trade in for their desired outcomes, at least in my experience.
Walking freely out of a githyanki crèche... A miracle if ever I've seen one. And trust me, I've seen quite a few.
To threaten the life of a child... truly, Orin will stop at nothing.
Our githyanki companion thinks little of killing those who deny her. An admirable quality, so long as her desires align with our own.
You made a good decision, refusing that devil's contract.
We'll speak more on this later, but suffice it to say for now - that crown is vital to our purpose here.
Please know - I've no desire to pry into anyone else's past, especially one that's left its scars.
I'll gladly talk to you about such matters when the time comes. But for now, let's speak of other things.
Nasty way to go, suffocating slowly under a tonne of rubble. Not a fate I'd personally relish.
What secrets does the aasimar promise to reveal, I wonder?
For your sake, I hope they are secrets worth their price. I wouldn't care to have Shar's wrath at my back.
Whatever they are, Shadowheart will pay dearly for them. Shar will make sure of it.
A hero of legend, passing the figurative torch on to us.
We'd best not disappoint her - the thought of a scolding from Jaheira's ghost is not one I particularly relish.
Not entirely sure I'm a fan of being trapped at the bottom of the Chionthar. Better get ourselves out of here. Quickly.
I never thought this journey of ours would see us knocking on a devil's door. Can't say I'm relishing the experience, but needs must.
Lae'zel was a formidable addition to our party. Our odds without her are diminished.
We should consider Orin's terms carefully, however distasteful we may find them.
I think we've done rather a good thing here. A welcome change, to gift this land a sliver of hope amongst so much despair.
The situation demands more of you than any other, but you would not become an illithid in vain. Your transformation is the missing piece. It must be you.
Minthara's something of a closed book, but I suspect a heart of gold lurks beneath that stern countenance.
Once she gets to know me, I'm sure she'll open up. She's just waiting for someone ready to listen.
Careful where you tread here. A hag's magic is not to be trifled with.
You look, erm... Well the main thing is, you're alive. Plenty to be grateful for, horns or no horns.
I can't help feeling Wyll got off lightly. The wrath of the hells is second only the wrath of the heavens.
Having a devil in our camp will certainly make things interesting. Never a dull day, is there?
My apologies. I'm not quite myself just yet. I had the strangest dream last night. A visitor came to me, a vision of unparalleled beauty and power.
She told me she was watching over me, protecting me. And, that our tadpoles could prove beneficial, if we embrace what powers they have to offer.
An uncanny apparition. I'm not entirely sure what to make of it.
A real manifestation, perhaps. But not an individual of flesh and blood in the manner you or I would consider to be 'real.'
Whether she spoke the truth or not... Well, I think I require a litle more evidence before taking a fantasy at her word.
Until then, best we speak of other matters. Was there something you wished to ask?
Very curious. In all my readings on the effects of illithid parasites, I've never come across any accounts of correlating dreams between infected parties.
Another unique quality of our predicament, perhaps. Are you inclined to take these visitors at their word?
Do not dismiss the truth of dreams out of hand. They can be portentous to quite alarming degrees.
Still, your caution in this instance is well-advised. Let's see whether our dream visitors come good on their promises, or if they too were no more than a passing illusion.
Nothing wrong with maintaining a healthy suspicion in such matters.
Still, it might be wiser to keep an open mind on the matter. Our visitors' promises of aid might yet bear valuable fruit.
If so, we have far more to learn about the powers at play here. Our ignorance as to the exact nature and intent of our saviors is hardly cause for celebration.
I hope your confidence proves well-founded. God knows we could use all the help we can get.
Or perhaps, a certain parasite that's clamped its jaws into me. Regardless, you're right. Better to stay focused on the real world's problems, than the fantasy of an easy solution.
Speaking of which, I assume you came with some other subject on your mind?
I've not seen infernal flames like that in quite some time. Why go to Avernus, when you can bring Avernus to us?
Not the resounding success we were hoping for. Still, the price of ambition is occasionally catastrophic failure. At least our skulls remain intact.
Mizora one step ahead of you as always. What chaos will we deal with in her wake, I wonder?
Whatever business Wyll has with Mizora, it will cost him dearly. Or worse still, it will cost us. I hope we can afford it.
If Gortash is to be believed, then even our camp isn't safe from Orin's influence. We might want to confirm the veracity of his claim. Or at least, clean up the mess.
It is no small thing to be a god's Chosen. Whatever life you once claimed to lead, it only follows from now on. Where Bhaal leads, you will be forced to go.
You know this for yourself, of course. So was there some other matter you needed to discuss?
Orin was a monster, whatever her form. I suppose growing up somewhere like this would make a monster of anyone.
I've been dreaming of our enigmatic visitor again. She told me our purpose was to take on this 'Cult of the Absolute', to infiltrate its ranks and bring it down from the inside.
This 'source' she referred to and the 'Heart of the Absolute' might be one and the same.
I've no wish to cast any aspersions on our existing skill set, of course, but given the perilous direction in which our journey is headed, the tadpole's powers might be a welcome addition to our arsenal.
I admire the vigour with which you uphold your principles, but I would remind you that the evils of the Absolute are far greater than any moral compromise we might make by using our tadpoles' full potential.
Your confidence in our existing capabilities is quite rousing, though. Perhaps that spirited enthusiasm will be strength enough to subdue the Cult when the time comes.
As existential evils go, the Absolute certainly seems an adversary worth halting in its tracks.
Any opportunities for us to indulge our tadpole's capabilities are hardly on the same scale. Trifles, when one considers the bigger picture.
I suppose you're right - we still see only a part of the picture, however much our visitor claims to show the full vista of options at our disposal.
I can't deny my curiosity, but as you say - no harm in delaying it, for now at least.
She even offered me greater powers, the result of some manipulation of the tadpole's psionic abilities.
Given the magnitude of what we're up against, I see no harm in considering the benefit this offer might afford us. It could be the only way to reach this 'source' in one piece.
Dame Aylin has little to feel sorry about - Lorroakan would have inflicted a far worse fate on her, given the chance.
You look remarkably perky. Nothing like a good night's sleep to restore the senses.
Githyanki patrolling these wilds is an unexpected surprise. Whatever they seek, they'll not hesitate to kill us if we stand in their way.
I didn't expect to meet your kin patrolling these wilds so openly. Whatever they're seeking, they clearly feel no need to hide their efforts. Or their urgency.
Hmm. Go on then, state your business with me. From a safe distance, if it's all the same to you.
A brave choice, to kill the child of one god at the behest of another. Your loyalty plumbs darker depths than I anticipated.
A brave choice, to kill the child of one god at the behest of another. Shadowheart's loyalty plumbs darker depths than I anticipated.
Let's hope the fruits of this cruel labour are to your advantage. And ours, of course.
Let's hope the fruits of this cruel labour are to her advantage. And ours, of course.
Raphael revealed a cruel truth, but believe me when I say it is one you are more powerful for learning.
My opinion on such matters would be an uninformed one, I'm afraid. But is there anything within my expertise you wished to discuss?
The people of Faerûn will be well served with you as their champion.
The people of Faerûn will be well served with Wyll as their champion.
The Blade of Frontiers. A fitting title for one so steeled with purpose.
Not entirely sure that was a wise decision. Better the devil you know, I suppose.
Not entirely sure that was a wise decision. Better the devil you know, I suppose. The one Wyll knows, at least.
Of all the things I anticipated our foray into that monastery achieving, bringing the whole thing down around our ears wasn't one of them. Life is just full of surprises.
I know those githyanki weren't your kin per se, but I hope you know it gives me no pleasure that our actions condemned them to such a fate.
A valid point. As survival strategies go, raising your young in a building rigged to self-destruct is a rather poor one. No doubt they'd have found that out for themselves eventually.
A valid point. But I think it's safe to assume that were the boot on the other foot, they'd have few regrets. Ruthlessness cuts both ways. And crushes too.
Not all deaths are so laden with import, on this plane or any other. The best we can do is live well, and hope the death that comes for us is quick. And preferably painless. I think we gave them that, at least.
What's done is done, and what remains to be done allows no great periods of introspection on such matters. Unless there's something else to discuss, we should press on.
What you did for your parents was a profound act of love. I won't dwell on the matter, but know that you showed immense courage. They would be proud.
What Shadowheart did for her parents was a profound act of love. Her courage is... well, it's quite something to behold.
There's no more radiant sight than that of someone who's learned to love themselves anew.
Shadowed in name, but no longer in spirit. It suits you.
Shadowed in name, but no longer in spirit. It suits her.
Druids will always follow nature's purpose over any mortal threat. Halsin goes where he is needed, as must we.
The bustle here takes some getting used to. A crackling fire and a tressym for company is usually more my speed.
Still, we must flow with the current we find ourselves in, however tumultuous it may be. If you've need of me, I'm glad to help.
Sounds like we're not the only ones tracking down this 'Minsc' fellow. Let's hope Nine-Fingers' bounty doesn't attract too much competition.
That githyanki officer didn't come here merely to fill our ears with idle gossip. Who resides within the artefact, I wonder?
Whatever Voss might have known about its occupant is lost to us now. Let's hope he and his alliance are aid we can do without.
Even the venerable Harpers are compromised by the Absolute's poison. A grim turn of event, but one we must take in our stride.
Do not be lured in by the Astral Plane's beauty. It is a lethal expanse, one we should be careful in attempting to cross.
Your new lease on life suits you rather well. What do you and your newborn vitality require of me?
Trust me when I say you're better off living unshaded by Shar's influence. Such a goddess would take everything from you, and still demand more.
I hope Shadowheart's parents are a welcome balm for her wounds. There will be pain in defying such a malicious goddess, but perhaps no more than in obeying her.
Well that's my chances of a beauty sleep thoroughly ruined for the evening...
I imagine Wyll thought he'd have longer to enjoy the perks of his powers.
Such pacts always collect their dues in the end. His suffering has only just begun.
Orin toys with us where she could destroy us. Whatever her motivations, I hope she reveals them quickly.
What's done is done. No sense delaying further.
Come on then, don't leave me in suspense. How are you feeling? No errant tentacles? No sudden cravings for a more cerebral diet?
Wonderful. Advantages are a more precious commodity than I'd have hoped, given the nature of our predicament.
I commend you on your willingness to take such a risk. Now, let's hope your new, illithid-fuelled prowess tip the balance suitably in our favour.
Replete with ribaldry, as always. Well, you could provide no better proof that you are not, in fact, about to turn into a mind flayer.
Famously humourless, illithids. The tyrannical enslavement of all other living creatures hardly lends itself to levity. Should your wit begin to suffer, only then must we worry.
I was rather more curious to know what benefits the tadpole might have bestowed, but no doubt the benefits of your change in diet will become apparent soon enough.
Was there another matter you wished to discuss?
Do you feel that? The Hells themselves tremble to face such a scourge as you threaten to be.
Do you feel that? The Hells themselves tremble to face such a scourge as Wyll threatens to be.
The Blade of Avernus.' Forged by a cambion, whetted on a dragon's hide. Those devils won't know what's coming for them.
Tyranny offers only two fates for the tyrant - infamy, or ignomy. I'm glad we were able to offer Gortash the latter.
A real githyanki crèche. Few outsiders learn the secrets of such places. Fewer still live to share their observations. A keen eye and a quiet tongue may serve us well here.
You can learn a lot about people when you understand the manner of their upbringing. Our time here will shed new light on your little quirks, I'm quite sure.
Fear not - I shall do nothing to embarass you amongst your peers. Where you lead, I follow with good humour, and the hope we might yet leave with both dignity and spleens unpunctured.
Is it me, or is the ground here particularly sticky? Almost as if...
Some thoughts are best left unfinished. Now, please tell me there's some other subject you wish to occupy my mind with?
Glad to see I'm not the only one on the wrong side of an omnipotent authority figure.
You did well to break free of Vlaakith's manipulations. Though I doubt Vlaakith will let such insubordination go unpunished.
Lae'zel did well to break free of Vlaakith's manipulations. Though I doubt Vlaakith will let such insubordination go unpunished.
Not sure now is the time for chatter. There's a raging inferno surrounding us.
No amount of contracts will save Raphael from the fate we forced upon him. A devil well-slain, if I say so myself.
This Orphic Hammer sounds like quite the artefact. One I'll have no desire to consume, if that's your concern.
Whatever ancient purpose is imbued in these halls, it may not welcome our presence here. We should be wary of whatever lurks beneath the dust.
I've never had cause to visit a druid's grove before. Magic weighs heavier here, seeking solace in root and soil. Grounding, one might say.
Glad to see we all made it through the night intact. A promising sign that we may be able to curb those urges of yours.
Now as the saying goes, 'What's left undone should be left unspoken.' Is there some lighter subject you wish to discuss?
Whatever that thing was you turned into, I'd rather not see it again. By the gods...
The living may not be prevented from crossing a vampire's threshold, but that doesn't make us any more welcome. Tread carefully.
I feel the Weave growing more distant by the moment. We walk Shar's path now - best we don't spend too long in her shadow.
Your father owes you his gratitude. I hope for your sake he is gracious enough to offer it, given what it cost.
Wyll's father owes him gratitude. I hope for his sake Ravengaard is gracious enough to offer it, given how much it cost.
I know well the pain of seeing your life's hourglass running empty, grasping at any means of slowing the grains as they slip inexorably through your fingers.
Your fate may be ordained, but your actions are not. Make each breath count, and what time you have with us will never be wasted.
Karlach's fate may be ordained, but her actions are not. She will make each breath count - we can be sure of that.
Your siblings could use a dose of your cynicism. Anyone cruel enough to pursue such a means to power has no intention of sharing it. 
But you don't need me to tell you this. You're here about something else, I'll wager?
So, a vampire lord walks among us. A powerful ally to have at our side, and a powerful enemy should our intentions diverge.
Things get more interesting by the moment.
I sense the difference in you already. You seem sharper, leaner, hungrier.
A new kind of being walks among us. One with teeth.
I quite like it.
The Astral Plane. Mortals such as we are not meant for this place. We must tread carefully.
Time for us to take a rather literal 'leap of faith'.
Shar may punish you, but she does not have claim on you any longer. Resisting her is a triumph in itself, however much it hurts.
Poor Shadowheart. The gods are nothing if not vindictive in their vengeance.
Shar's domain is a far cry from Mystra's. The Weave's light is truly extinguished by such darkness.
The Gur are certainly efficient. Astarion's fate will not be an easy one. Nor painless.
What a thrill, to wander the corridors of the forge of tyranny itself. Better keep our thoughts to ourselves - who knows what might be listening to us here?
An ally fresh from the Hells themselves. Our company grows stranger by the minute - and all the better for it.
That's one scourge eliminated. A vampire with that much power would be a death sentence for this city. A pity Astarion didn't understand that. Or rather, didn't care.
Of all the places I expected we'd find this Minsc, crawling from the broken jaws of a mimic wasn't high on my list. What's life without a few surprises, eh?
We cannot afford to lose focus now. Not when the brain is so close. We press on.
Lae'zel had the makings of a formidable ally, if one prone to acts of impulsive violence.
Still, such conflicts will not serve our party well in resolving this little parasite problem of ours. Best we cast from the same spell book from now on.
Your head must be spinning, to learn such a truth. Dame Aylin's revelations can't have been easy to stomach, but know that you will not be alone, when the time comes to act upon them.
At least Shadowheart is armed with the truth now. May its keen edge draw forth whatever vengeance she desires.
Whatever these dark powers of yours may be, they serve no purpose if you cannot control them. Or yourself. What a terrible waste.
A fascinating structure. Made of living flesh, or merely a simulacrum?
A question for another time - for now, we'd best focus on finding a way out.
Let's hope Shadowheart's actions do not return to haunt her. I know they would haunt me.
Halsin does not deserve to die on such a craven's altar.
A natural impulse to try and shield one's loved ones from danger, especially when you feel a moral compunction to run head-first towards it.
I suspect any child of Jaheira's will share her self-destructive sense of justice, but at least her words give them pause for thought.
All this time, we were protected by a mind flayer... that is a turn up for the books.
A shame it's so dank and decayed down here - I suspect there's a wealth of history to be uncovered, if any could hold their breath long enough to find it.
At last, we find a beacon of light amongst the darkness. And not a moment too soon - I'm quite ready for some respite.
Don't worry, I've no interest in prizing that artefact from your grip. Your secrets are yours to keep.
This is the seat of the Absolute's power. Whatever the 'Heart' is, it's connected to this place somehow. We must find out.
What joy, to have found the nadir of common decency. Let's conclude our business here quickly, and never speak of it again.
Hunting one devil, allying yourself with another. Our journey gets more curious by the second.
Quite the rug pull, eh? A mind flayer manipulating us this whole time.
Such creatures are not to be trusted, as a general rule, though this one does appear to have had a significant hand in our survival up to this point.
At best, an ally whose motivations remain shrouded in deceit. We should be wary of what such an alliance may cost us.
So, this is the seat of the Absolute's power? Every bit as vile as the cultists who flock here, by the looks of it.
Another day, another god trying to make us her playthings. We'll have the whole pantheon interfering with us if we're not careful.
Gods, I hate spiders.
At last, we stand on the cusp of victory. A narrower precipice than I hoped, but it's our destiny to traverse it nonetheless.
The brain will succumb, and these halls will echo with our deeds for generations. Greatness awaits.
If there's heroism to be found in politics, I'm sure you'll find it. Somewhere...
If there's heroism to be found in politics, I'm sure Wyll will find it. Somewhere...
You should try to get some rest. Hard to save the world if you're stifling yawns.
I can't believe you signed that contract. We'll discuss this. Later.
I've known a few warlocks in my time. Talented, of course, though sometimes too eager to listen to the devils on their shoulders. Comes with the territory, unfortunately.
Time and again, your plight reinforces my decision not to pursue the path of a warlock.
Time and again, Wyll's plight reinforces my decision not to pursue the path of a warlock.
It's one thing to make such a sacrifice in the pursuit of such a pact, but to do so in order to escape one. Truly, it leaves you with nothing.
Nothing like the stench of human effluence to make you regret any and all prior life decisions.
The tadpoles, the Absolute... it was because of you? I think you've said and done more than enough. Leave me be.
Fascinating as our surroundings are, we must press on. If our runaway general is down here, the Heart of the Absolute will be too.
We must reach Ketheric. He will lead us to the Heart of the Absolute.
Hardly the noblest conflict we've encountered, but criminals will have their squabbles, even in the looming shadow of utter annihilation.
Quite something, to have devotees of the Shar herself sworn to our cause.
A pity Shadowheart was the price of it, but the 'Lady of Loss' will take her dues. Our loss is our gain, so to speak.
Jaheira made her choice, however unwise it may be to divide our efforts at this juncture. A shame, but we'll forge ahead without her.
You did a good thing back there. I won't dwell on the matter - I know that's not a sentiment you're accustomed to revelling in, but rest assured - your actions have spoken for themselves.
A savvy move, recruiting Halsin to our cause.
While I'm adept at most forms of Weave manipulation, druidic magic is not my area of expertise. He will make for a most useful option to have in reserve.
The hammer we claimed is of incredible arcane craftsmanship. No wonder it was so fiercely protected. In the wrong hands, who knows what it might shatter...
I hope you're still in one piece after that little reunion. Take it from me - your taste in company has much improved, if those spawn were anything to go by. Good riddance to them.
Not the kind of excitement I usually enjoy being woken up for. Still, better than not waking up at all. Or waking up as something else entirely.
A disturbed and disturbing night for all of us, but worth it. With due diligence, your impulses will soon be mastered. Or at least, prevented from causing further harm.
Revenge is a dish best served hot, it seems. At least when Karlach is in charge of the menu.
She deserves more time to enjoy her victory. Still, there's solace to be found in surrendering one's mortality in a blaze of glory. Or so I hear.
The underdark has a certain menacing beauty to it. Though I'd be happier admiring it from a safe distance.
Minsc seems quite the, er, enthusiastic ally. We'd all do well to remain on his good side. And out of range of his fists.
Civilisation beckons at last. It's no Waterdeep, but Baldur's Gate is a respectable runner-up. Or at least a close third.
I've not felt the presence of the Shadow Weave like this since we left behind that cursed darkness. We must be on our guard.
Bested by simple vampire spawn, our companion snatched like a rattle from a babe.
Astarion's fate depends on us. Given our resounding failure to protect him in the first place, I'm not sure I fancy his chances.
Do you feel as flattered as I do? Invited to dine with a devil...
Come now. Of all people I'd think you'd see through his bluster.
All that talk of desperation? It merely illustrates his own.
I think he wants something from us. Badly. And in that knowledge lies our opportunity.
Conjecture, yes - that much I concede.
But let me play the devil's advocate: the man is too eager. Do not dismiss his offer out of hand.
If there's one quality all the denizens of the Hells embody, it's ambition. A quality they share with many humans, come to think of it...
Haven't the foggiest. But based on the evidence before us, we can make certain deductions as to why he sought out our merry band.
By figuring out his true intentions.
Fine - but my reasoning is this:
Admittedly, it's an area in which I have a modicum of expertise. And based on the evidence before us, it's hard to imagine any other motivation.
Fact one: there's something very strange and very powerful about our tadpoles.
Fact two: a devil offers to take it away.
Devils aren't known to aid mortals out of simple kindness. Whatever Raphael wants, we must be the key to getting it. Along with our tadpoles...
So I say for now - we wait. If I'm right, Raphael will seek us out again. And when he does, there's a mighty bargain to be made.
Remember his Cormyrian rhyme? 'Down came the claw'. Perhaps we should start growing our nails.
Our souls. But I suspect that's but his opening offer.
Let me play the devil's advocate: the man is too eager. Do not dismiss his offer out of hand.
There's no such thing as an absolute certainty.
Believe me, that was a devil's equivalent of serenades and roses.
Don't let his bluster fool you. All that talk of desperation? It merely illustrates his own.
Yes... They offer you an apple, but they're the worm that lurks within.
Still - don't let his bluster fool you. All that talk of desperation? It merely illustrates his own.
I've never met a devil, but of course I've read a great deal about them.
Even feigning a mortal form it was easy to detect the whiff of sulphur about him, to spot the flicker of hellfire in his eyes.
After all he'd been through... Zevlor did not deserve such a death.
Thank goodness that's all dealt with. The odds are stacked high enough against us already. No need to turn on each other.
Even being in the presence of that amulet makes my skin crawl. It's like feeling the eyes of Bhaal himself settling upon us.
I'll say one thing for our troupe - we're not short on drama. I'm glad Shadowheart and Lae'zel settled their differences peacefully. Eventually.
I hope your business with me isn't so contentious. I much prefer to settle matters with debate, not daggers.
A crying shame, to see such a curious piece of githyanki engineering reduced to junk parts. Still, at least it wasn't you who ended up on the scrap heap.
Yours was an escape narrow enough to defy even the tiniest of measuring sticks. Best to apply a touch more caution when agreeing to ambiguous medical procedures in future.
We have our orders, from the queen of the githyanki herself, no less. Now might be the time to consider obeying them.
We have our orders, from your queen herself, no less. Now might be the time to consider obeying them.
It seems the brain's more reluctant to let go of the crown than we anticipated.
Separating the crown from that monstrosity will be harder than we imagined. It might be time to reconsider our strategy.
We've a city to save. I think it's about time we got started.
Quite the choice you're faced with: surrender the Netherstones to a mind flayer, or surrender your soul and become one.
If you need advice, I'll do my best - though I have to say I've not much to draw on in this case. It's rather a unique predicament to have landed yourself with.
The orb? Why ever would we need to talk about that?
I assure you it remains stable as ever, in spite of our encounter with the Netherbrain.
The Karsite Weave is primed for godhood, as soon as we have the Crown within our grasp.
I stand here on the precipice of divinity - a course you encouraged me to pursue, I might add - and now you come to tell me to blow myself up?
I'm getting rather tired of how often those I care about seem to reach the same conclusion.
Even you - after the dreams we've shared.
Why exactly would I choose that course now, when I have so much to live for?
Pessimism like that is hardly going to improve our chances. But - I will begrudgingly admit that circumstances have somewhat changed.
I still prefer my odds if I don't turn myself into a crater the size of the Lower City.
I sense your resolve falters, so allow me to provide some encouragement: we are not going to lose, and I am going to get that crown.
Now, let's drop the matter, before I feel obliged to detonate the orb just to put an end to the bloody business altogether.
As for your current predicament - it doesn't matter to me who holds the Netherstones, so long as they they are mine to claim once the brain is dispatched.
Beyond that, the choice is yours to make, and I wouldn't dare to impose myself on one faced with making such a sacrifice.
Come now - turning on each other will hardly improve our chances of survival.
However, the sharpest tongues sometimes make the finest points. And your urgency is not unwarranted - our circumstances have changed.
The elder brain was already a formidable foe, but the Netherbrain is on the cusp of achieving a godhood of its own.
Sacrificing myself to destroy it wasn't exactly the form of immortality I hoped for, but perhaps the time for hope has passed altogether. Now we need certainty.
So be it - I will be ready, whatever you decide.
Is that not the very nature of chasing divinity?
The risk will be well worth the gain - we need only to hold our nerve through these final tribulations, and the crown will be ours. Everything will be ours.
Good. We'll put that little outburst down to the shock of the circumstances, and move swiftly on.
You'll soon have far greater things to be glad of - I promise you that.
As it stands, I see no option free of sacrifice in one form or another. So the question becomes - what are you willing to give up?
Relinquish the stones, and you place your fate in the hands of a creature whose trustworthiness is hardly guaranteed.
Keep the stones, and you relinquish the very essence of your being. Your soul, your emotions, your purpose. You would lose everything, and might live with such a loss for eternity.
All I can say is - whatever choice you make, if it leads us to taking the Crown it will be worth it. And I will ensure you are well taken care of.
The risk will be well worth the gain - we need only to hold our nerve through these final tribulations, and the crown will be ours. Everything will be ours
Whatever you decide, do not delay for too long. Every moment we hesitate, the Crown may slip further out of reach.
If you seek my input, you've only to ask.
Fate seems determined to make a mindflayer of you, as it would make a cataclysm of me. Make your choice - the orb will be there regardless.
If the path we tread were easy, there'd be a queue of fools willing to walk it. Alas, it isn't. And such grim choices must fall to us.
I trust you to know the course we must take. But my offer stands - if none wish to shoulder the illithid's burden, the orb would achieve the same ends.
There is, of course one more course to consider. The orb. None need shoulder the illithid's burden, if that is what you decide.
Barely awake a moment, and the prince of the githyanki demands you surrender your soul?
I confess, in my head I saw that going a lot less amicably. I hope our newly-freed ally proves more reliable than the last.
Fate seems determined to make a mindflayer of you. It remains your choice, as the crown remains mine.
The scent of Netheril hangs heavy in this place. The brain is close, as is the crown. I'm glad we face such a monster together.
The aura of Netheril hangs heavy in this place. The brain is close, as is the crown. As is victory, dare we begin to hope...
I don't think it was.
Though I confess, the prospect of trying to outwit a brain the size of Mount Waterdeep is a challenge even for me.
I hope that wasn't our last kiss. I'd take a thousand more if I could.
I'd be lying if I said it wouldn't take some getting used to, but what can a few extra tentacles do to a bond as strong as ours?
When this is all over, we'll have time enough to unpick the specifics of your new condition. Psionics alone could take months to thoroughly evaluate, not to mention the matter of your diet -
But I'm getting ahead of myself. We've a Netherbrain to defeat. Then we get to the fun stuff.
I'd need a ream of parchment longer than an elder brain's stem to capture the tumult I feel at that particular prospect.
But I'm ready, if that's the word you need to hear. If you call on me, I will not let you down.
When?' I'm glad you have such confidence in our endeavour. I confess, my own's not constructed from such immutable materials.
I made a promise to my goddess. One I will do my best to keep. For the sake of this city, I can only hope that my best will be enough.
I challenged my goddess, defied her will, and promised her destruction.
Fail to get the crown after all that, and if the embarrassment doesn't finish me off, Mystra might.
I don't dare to picture the crown in my hands - not when there's the small matter of an enormous, city-conquering brain beneath it.
But if, if, we overcome that obstacle, I will do everything.
I don't dare to imagine making such a decision when there's the small matter of the enormous brain beneath the crown still to overcome.
Ask me again when the illithid scourge has been wiped from this city, and I'll have an answer for you. Until then - it's best not to count on anything.
I'm cautiously optimistic. Though with the time left to us, and the amount still to be done, it's best we don't take anything for granted.
Who knows what shape these final moments of ours might assume? Not I. Not Mystra. Not even you. But whatever my fate might be, I'll be glad to greet it in such fine company.
Though I confess, the prospect of trying to outwit a brain the size of Mount Waterdeep is a challenge even for me
I hope that wasn't our last kiss. I'd take a thousand more if I could
But I'm ready, if that's the word you need to hear. If you call on me, I will not let you down
Ask me again when the illithid scourge has been wiped from this city, and I'll have an answer for you. Until then - it's best not to count on anything
Fail to get the crown after all that, and if the embarrassment doesn't finish me off, Mystra might
But if, if, we overcome that obstacle, I will do everything
Who knows what shape these final moments of ours might assume? Not I. Not Mystra. Not even you. But whatever my fate might be, I'll be glad to greet it in such fine company
Strolling these streets together would have been quite magical, in other circumstances. This is all a tad apocalyptic for my liking.
You're okay - thank the heavens and hells and everything in between. I thought the brain would take you from me.
I'm not sure I ever considered the Emperor an ally, exactly, but even so, it's strange to know we're on our own at last.
The High Hall was once a beacon of promise, of wisdom, of celebration. Now... well , it's just a beacon, and for all manner of horrors. A pity.
Please - I need a moment.
Thank you
I can feel the storm abating. Yes, this will keep my condition in check - for a precious while.
It's hard to predict the effect any given artefact has, but my condition is hardly a patient one.
Rather soon I will feel it stir again - like a distant thunder sending tremors through the soul.
I will need to consume another artefact before the lightning strikes. There's no choice but to find more.
In the meantime, my thanks again.
My lady, I bow to your boundless kindness!
My lord, I bow to your boundless kindness!
My liege, I bow to your boundless kindness!
I obtained it in Waterdeep. Nothing there comes cheap.
I myself am a much more powerful artefact in your arsenal. Rest assured of that.
As long as we travel together, what's mine is yours. And if we survive our many ordeals, I'll host you a banquet in Waterdeep the likes of which you've never seen.
Such promises will have to wait however. My condition is hardly a patient one.
A feeling you may have to grow accustomed to while I'm around. My condition is hardly a patient one.
Gods, it's like a draught of cool water soothing a parched throat - welcome and wonderful.
There was a lot of magic in this artefact. I can't quite remember a time I've felt so peaceful inside.
It's good to perceive this constant fear repressed into a quiet scare. Let's hope it will last a good long while.
And I'm impressed once more by your benevolence!
I say that with great sincerity. Mere days have passed since our first acquaintance, but you've gained the respect of years.
As such, I do not wish to give you false hope. We're only treating the symptoms, not the cause.
Unpleasant, certainly. Gut wrenching too. Heart rending even, if pinched for an adjective.
Then again - keeps you on your toes.
On a more serious note, I do not wish to give you false hope. We're only treating the symptoms, not the cause.
That said, this newfound calm I'm experiencing gives me reason to accept without prejudice a certain degree of optimism.
Time is a precious gift. With time, we may even reach Baldur's Gate, a city rife with magic, wizards, scholars, and perhaps: solutions.
And here's to your company.
Oh, I can picture it now: academies, libraries, laboratories - the assembled knowledge of centuries that may just set us free.
Better yet: soft beds, home cooked meals, and all the other little luxuries this wilderness so brashly denies us.
Gods, I'd pay a king's ransom for a hot, lavender-scented bath - minstrels serenading as I close my eyes and let the water's warmth dissolve all woes.
Plenty to look forward to.
And don't think I've forgotten!
Too late for that!
Come, come, these are mere fabled objects of great to enormous value.
My continued presence though - quite priceless!
We'll need to find a way to unlock the book first.
I urge you to reconsider. There could be consequences beyond our ken.
Please.
I will consume the magic inside. What was a powerful artefact will be rendered no more than a trinket.
Sorry, if I'm to engage in banter, I prefer it to be with the leader of our troupe.
How can I help
Go ahead, I'm listening
What's on your mind?
Let's see. I hail from Waterdeep, the City of Splendours. I'm a wizard of considerable acclaim, and scholar of exceptional accomplishment.
I have a cat, a library, and a weakness for a good glass of wine. And if the mood takes me, I'm known to try my hand at poetry.
There.
Didn't that paint enough of a picture?
That was... uncalled for.
Not an eventuality I'm entirely unfamiliar with.
Nevertheless, please don't try that again unless I invite you to.
Nothing. What you saw was merely mental disorientation brought about by your intrusion.
Please don't try that again unless I invite you to.
And please don't try that again unless I invite you to.
I have a very disciplined mind: those tricks won't work on me.
Certainly. That I have a great respect for privacy, for instance - especially my own.
That is most gratifying to hear. May I?
The instructions were easy enough, weren't they? If slightly elaborate.
Like I said: I'm dangerous even in death. I'm merely trying to protect those around me.
I find that a healthy amount of theatrics - a voice from the beyond, a magic flute, a friendly if highly combustible magma mephit - tends to make for a more compelling case.
If nothing else, I'm sure I piqued your curiosity.
Think of it as vampirism. You need blood to sustain yourself, I need magic.
It has become my sustenance. Without it... Well, I hardly need to tell you.
Think of it as... tribute. The kind a king might pay to a more powerful neighbour to avoid invasion.
As long as I pay there will peace. But should I ever stop, along comes a war.
I can assure the battlefield would extend well beyond the borders of my body alone.
An eruption the size of Waterdeep', I think my exact words were.
I assure you it is not.
Don't get me wrong, you did well! The somatic component, the vocal component, even the focus on the inner self that invites Mystra in.
But I was still your conduit. To perform such a feat alone requires much and arduous study.
Yet it is life's most worthy pursuit in my impartial if not humble opinion.
Of course, as a sorcerer, these talents come to you quite naturally. I do hope you cherish that gift.
Of course, as a warlock, your patron endows you with many such powers otherwise unattainable. I do hope you cherish that gift.
Of course, as a paladin, your patron deity endows you with many such powers otherwise unattainable. I do hope you cherish that gift.
Of course, as a cleric, your patron deity endows you with many such powers otherwise unattainable. I do hope you cherish that gift.
I've had a pupil or two, but never for very long. Their ineptitudes tend to... irk me.
You do seem to be a precocious talent though. I can always tell when I meet with a keen mind receptive to Mystra.
Keep it up and she might just take a personal interest in you one of these days.
Oh, I was surprised. But pleasantly so, just like I said.
Amid the madness that has befallen us, it seems almost out of place to think of a kiss.
Amid the madness that has befallen us, it seems almost out of place to think of a romantic walk.
And yet, now more than ever, it's important to recall what makes us human.
And yet, now more than ever, it's important to recall what makes us human. Well - you know what I mean.
A stolen glance - that sudden heartbeat... Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms.
They promise things to come.
What did I think about an imaginary blow to the stomach?
Treating you to the real deal, that's what.
What did I think about seeing my head on a spike?
That I still looked as handsome as ever, that's what.
The Weave is still here, all around us - inside of us too. As long as the goddess lives, magic is a tangible thing for those who know how to touch.
I've studied magic for many years, and in as many ways I am still a more than capable wizard.
It's just that I'm no longer able to perform those feats even arch wizards would marvel at.
To have one hand on the pulse of divinity.
You have to remember that the Weave is a living thing, both the embodiment and the extension of Mystra herself.
She can give and she can take away. I'm afraid I'm still very much on her naughty list.
Consider yourself lucky you're not.
Do you?
You see, I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity.
Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace.
You're one such event that, one day soon perhaps, I'd like to embrace.
And yet you ask.
I do, as a matter of fact.
If I recall correctly, the Waterdhavian Dictionary of the Common Tongue of Faerûn defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'.
Sorry, sometimes I just can't help being quite insufferable. In seriousness, I'm glad you asked that question.
Ah, yes. Karsus.
The very same.
Karsus was perhaps the most powerful wizard that ever lived. The-child-who-would-be-a-god, the elves called him.
And he tried. With a spell of his own devising he endeavoured to usurp in one fell swoop the power of the goddess of magic.
Mystryl, she was called then. Imagine what it must have felt like. To be a god. To know yourself to be untouchable. To be mistaken.
As Karsus aimed his spell at her, she began to unravel, and with her, the entire Weave.
Too late did he realise what he had unleashed. It would have been the end of everything had not Mystryl sacrificed herself.
The goddess of magic is all magic. By dying, the entire Weave was lost, and the spell that challenged a god failed.
It was the end of Mystryl, the end of Karsus, and the end of an entire civilisation.
As the-child-who-would-be-a-god was turned to stone, his empire came crashing down around him. The floating cities of Netheril were no more.
An event that came to be known as Karsus' Folly.
For a spell.
Mystryl was reborn as Mystra. Upon her return, the Weave returned with her.
Now, so many centuries later, I tried to follow in the footsteps of Karsus, not to destroy Mystra, but to prove my love for her.
I tried to control only a fraction of the magic that was unleashed that fateful day. I merely sought to return one tiny diamond to an imperfect crown.
Gale's Folly one might call it. History. Repetition. It's the way things go.
Quite so.
Loving them has its side effects as well.
If it takes the death of a god to stop you, I'd say your ambition has gotten somewhat out of hand.
Not that I'm one to talk, of course.
If it should ever come to that, if I ever know I am no longer able to stop it, I will do anything I can to ensure no one but me pays for my mistakes.
I will find the remotest place on the surface of Faerûn, or perhaps far below in the depths of the Underdark.
I will await that death alone.
I promise I will not betray your trust. You kept me by your side despite the menace that I am.
I cherish you.
If worst comes to worst, I will be gone long before the curtain falls.
A night to remember.
It was wonderful, wasn't it?
Before we go on though, do first let me apologise.
To share such a night with you only to tell you of a previous lover the next morning... It wasn't the most gentleman-like behaviour.
But I had to finally tell you. Silence would have been far worse behaviour still. Nevertheless, I am sorry.
You're quite spectacular, you know.
One shouldn't be all gentleman. Or we certainly wouldn't have done some of things we did the other night.
Yes, it was.
But you first approached me 'about the other night'. What was it you wanted to tell me?
Then let me clear your mind of doubts: it absolutely wasn't.
It's cruel to tease, you know.
That's certainly a word for it.
I've had a goddess, but you don't hear me complaining.
I question the wisdom of that decision, but so be it.
I'll be here in the meantime, idling away the hours.
I'll be in the camp then, idling away the hours.
There's room for adventure, but no room for me it seems. You have your fair share of followers already.
With pleasure! Lead on.OriginAddToParty
Nothing a bit of magic can't solve.
Why don't we take a little break? Allow ourselves a few moments of rest. Gives me a chance to talk to you about something, well, rather important.
Putting two and two together I see.
As you wish.
We've been on the road together for a while now, haven't we? Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles.
Ever since you were kind enough to free me from that stone, I've seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage.
The way you defused the tension between Zevlor and Aradin.
The way we defused the tension between Zevlor and Aradin.
The way you stood in front of a crossbow to prevent a murder.
The way one of our own stood in front of a crossbow to prevent a murder.
The way you got Kagha to release the girl.
The way we got Kagha to release the girl.
The way you handled Nettie when she poisoned you.
The way you got that boy out of a harpy's clutches.
The way you followed the protocol and brought me back to life.
These deeds attest to a strong and noble character. They attest to prime leadership qualities as well.
In short: I've grown to trust you.
The reason I make a point of saying this is that I've grown confident enough to tell you something I've yet to tell another living soul. Except for my cat.
You see, I have this... condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly.
The specifics are rather personal, but suffice it to say that it is a malady I have learned to live with - though not without some effort.
No, no - nothing like that. Though if I fail to treat it then the consequences would not be contained to me alone.
No, it cannot be cured. And I assure you I've left no page unturned in reaching that conclusion.
I can keep this condition under control, as indeed I've done for a significant amount of time, but that was under different circumstances altogether. Home, in Waterdeep.
What it comes down to is this: every so often I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item and absorb the Weave inside.
I can say no more on the matter - not now anyway.
Just trust me when I say it's all of vital importance.
Staffs, tomes, cowls - the form doesn't matter, so long as it's brimming with Weave.
Trust me when I say - the loss of the occasional wizard's staff or tome of enchantment is a bargain given the cost of allowing me to deteriorate.
I'll spare you the finer details, but it begins with a simple biological deterioration. Muscle spasms, disorientation, a slight ringing in the ears. And if left for too long...
Catastrophe.
It's been days since I last consumed an artefact - since before we were abducted. It is time.
And by that I mean it's imperative that I find and consume strands of Weave at the earliest possible juncture.
It's been days since I last consumed an artefact - since before we were abducted. It's only a matter of time before my craving returns.
That is why I turn to you. I need you to help me find magic items to consume. It is vital. Dare I say it, critical.
As luck would have it, Faerûn is full of them, though I do feel obliged to point out that items of power tend to be in the hands of the powerful.
There will be danger involved - or great cost.
Splendid. A bit of boldness will serve us well.
Valid question. If not out of the simple goodness of your heart, then perhaps your own self-interest might be sufficient motivation.
Having a wizard like me around is quite the boon when facing the perils that stalk these lands. It will be far harder for me to assist you if I can barely stand upright.
I know that what I ask may seem unreasonable, but I promise I only make such a request because it is so incredibly important.
Please - trust me. Your help could be the difference between life and death.
As luck would have it, you're already primed to give me exactly what I need...
Thank you. I see my trust in you was not misplaced!
I'm sure we won't have to look very far to find what I need: Faerûn overflows with magic-infused treasure.
As do our packs, as a matter of fact. We've such an item already in our possession, primed for the moment the need arises.
I know the allure magic artefacts hold. I understand their value and their power. All this to say: I understand the sacrifice I ask of you.
But if I may be so bold: it's for a very good cause indeed.
I hope I can count on you.
Oh, and as far as that tadpole trickery goes, I really do trust you'll not be so untoward again.
You're slightly ahead of me there. As yet, my condition is stable. I've no need to consume anything.
When the time comes, I will not hesitate to call on you or the belongings you were generous enough to offer.
I'm afraid it doesn't quite work like that - though of course I'm immensely grateful for any assistance you provide in times of mortal peril. But I must ask more trust of you still.
I understand that I'm asking for a lot, but I can't tell you everything. Not yet anyway.
Please reconsider.
No.
I don't know how else I can explain the imperative nature of this issue. You can't simply dismiss it.
Very well. You're clearly in no mood to be receptive to my request at present.
Take whatever time you need to consider. I hope, when the reality of my condition sets in, you may yet be convinced to change your mind.
Keeping me in suspense, are you? Come on, tell me, do we have an agreement or not?
It's a simple question, isn't it? What gives you pause?
What?!
You used that thing against me? And you saw! After I told you...
You had no right! None at all! I've a good mind to turn around and depart this little company of ours immediately.
I'd rather be alone than spend another moment in the presence of someone inclined to such unjustified invasions of privacy.
The need remains debatable, but I recognise your responsibility.
Perhaps my reaction was a tad volatile, the irony of which is not lost on me. Though it needs remain so on you, for the time being.
I hope that the glimpse you caught on my condition convinced you of the urgency in treating it. Can I count on you to give me the artefacts I need?
That is a lie and you know it.
This is where we part ways.
I have to admit you're right about that.
I am a fool. A fool to have trusted you.
So be it.
What are you... You're using the tadpole against me?
So? Do you agree?
I'm afraid that's not going to work on me. Look, I appreciate your curiosity, but don't pursue this path.
Let us agree on actions first and explanations later. Yes?
Then I suggest you look closer.
We've already done the finding. In fact you have one in your possession.
You know for yourself how hard won such an item was, and it will be no easier when even more are required to assuage my hunger.
A fair point - however, until recently I was able to rely on a supply of artefacts stored in my tower in Waterdeep. A supply that has now run dry.
The reality of the matter is that a lone wizard with a chronic impairment such as my own is not in the most ideal of situations with regards to self-defence.
The manner of artefacts I need are not often found waiting patiently on a shop-keep's shelf. One usually has to lift them delicately from trap-filled tombs or prise them from the hands of violent ne'erdowells.
You have my thanks. And fear not - your implicit trust is well placed, and will be rewarded with any and all means at my disposal.
Please. I've better things to do with my time than hoodwink gullible adventurers out of their trinkets.
No - no, it's nothing like that. Magic isn't a narcotic to me, it's quite literally a life-saver.
I would not burden anyone other than myself with this were the stakes not so high, and the means of obtaining such artefacts challenging for a humble wizard to face alone.
I am what I am - I never lied to you, I've merely been economical with the truth.
Thank you for the offer, but the treatment for my condition is very specific.
I was being quite sincere, I assure you.
Be that as it may, my trust is yours.
The way we got that boy out of a harpy's clutches.
The way we handled Nettie when she wanted to poison us.
What, no rest for the dashing? Pish posh.
Spare me a moment, if you please. I've something important to discuss with you.
That said, necessity compels me to set aside my reservations. I have no choice but to speak.
We've been travelling together for a while now and I think it's safe to say we don't always see eye to eye.
We've been travelling together for a while now and it's just about time that I shared something with you.
It's a rather personal matter that I'd have preferred to keep quiet, but needs must when the devil drives. I have no choice but to speak.
Tiring business, isn't it? All this travelling and adventuring.
So, all it took to get Mystra's attention was to learn how to reforge an artefact that once destroyed her.
Obvious, when you stop to think about it.
Well, I doubt its an apology for asking me to die on her behalf.
Whatever it is, if it's important enough to send Elminster, we can be damned sure she's serious.
Not scared. Not yet. But she's shaken, if she feels the need to intervene directly.
This is a conversation that's long overdue on both sides. I owe it to her to hear her out, come what may afterwards.
After you.
Mystra's many things, but she's no censor. Her job is not to judge those who use the Weave, but to ensure it is protected.
Whatever she has to say, I want to hear it. Only then will we know the truth of what lies ahead.
Very well, but it does not serve us to tarry when a summons from the heavens is waiting.
Let's not get too ahead of ourselves. For now, I'm just a regular wizard holding the blueprint for greatness.
Mystra knows I've read Karsus' designs, I'm certain of that. And it clearly has her shaken.
The Weave is a highly sensitive magical network threaded through all life on this plane. Any shift in magical energy, no matter how small, is akin to a beacon, alerting Mystra to its cause.
Opening a book like the Annals of Karsus was akin to us shooting a firework spelling 'look at us, Mystra' directly into the skies of Elysium. She knows.
I think Elminster's last message was the one carrying the punishment. Having respectfully declined it, I think she's willing to negotiate.
I was hoping to speak to you, as a matter of fact. About the night you were kind enough to keep this melancholy wizard company...
I suppose one might say I'm rather adrift, to be honest.
Since our conversation, I'd resigned myself to my fate. Each day bore the possibility of being my last, and I accepted it.
I'm only standing here now because I failed, to put it in rather blunt terms. Mystra is unlikely to let me try again. Yet, even in spite of that - I'm glad to have more time with you.
Since you still have me, was there anything else on your mind?
I wanted to... to thank you. I was sinking into a dark place, but you reminded me there is still light in the world, if I should care to look for it.
You... you may well have prevented me from doing something very rash in the near future. I count myself lucky to call you a friend.
Careful - I may just take you up on that.
Understandable. And you won't be. Not if I can help it.
I'm glad to hear it. And I intend to prove myself worthy of the sentiment.
I hope the city doesn't seem too small and quaint to you, now you've caught a glimpse of what lies above and beyond...
I had hoped to have a word with you about that, in fact. Our little voyage to the stars.
What I proposed to you was something bolder than most mortals ever have to contend with, and yet your resolve was firm.
I wanted to see how you felt, on terra prima. Did our dream survive the waking from it?
Then my sore arms thank you - I can finally stop pinching myself.
I can't tell you how glad I am not to face such an undertaking alone. We will succeed where Karsus failed, I'm sure of it.
Standing side-by-side, even against such intimidating odds - how could we not?
You know me too well. I'm second-guessing things, as usual.
That's the trouble with being quite clever - you always have to be right. Probe all avenues, consider all possibilities.
When I indulge impulsivity... as you know, the results can be quite catastrophic. But any path we walk together is the right one. I'm sure of that.
Was there anything else you wished to discuss?
I see. Then we should rest the topic for now, then. Perhaps the dream will yet prove true... or I will have to wake and face reality.
Thank you, for your candour, and your company. That night was still... very special for me.
No, no. I've never been more sure of anything.
I see you're still lost for words about the whole thing. No matter - what can I do for you?
I wanted to talk to you about our night together...
Have you ever walked to the very edge of a great precipice, and shuddered at how easy it would be to step into the void?
Ever since Elminster told me of Mystra's... expectations of me, I have felt like I've been walking along such a cliff face, with a great drop to nothingness never out of my sight.
But you - you led me away from the edge.
Without your words, your touch... I fear I would have sought purpose and solace in that void. You reminded me what living can feel like.
Well, generosity is always a noble virtue - whether it be in the streets, at the charity box, or betwixt the sheets.
We are all sensual vessels. Illusory magic lets us sail farther, and feel more deeply.
I hope the end is much farther away than I had suspected. I hope that night meant as much to you as it did to me. And I hope we will have more time together. Together... alone.
I'll see that there is - woe betide anyone who tries to stop me.
I see.
Well, fine is... fine. Nobody weeps because the weather is fine. No monarchs were overthrown because their ruling was fine. No artworks were burned because they were not masterpieces, but merely fine.
The dignified thing for me to say is 'No, of course not. Forthrightness before all', but honestly? Yes... I would have rather you lied.
I'm just a man. An imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. A fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.
Perhaps it would be better to not shake such a vessel.
Forgive me. These were already trying times before Elminster delivered his missive. Now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.
Oh... well, I hope I didn't make too much of an ass of myself just now.
I'll see that there is indeed more to come - woe betide anyone who tries to stop me.
Is that so? Well... fine.
Yes... yes we do. And perhaps the sooner it's done, the better.
I see. Well, at least it was a night to remember... for one of us. I'll trouble you no more on the matter.
Besides, given my propensity towards verbosity, it surely can't be a surprise that I have a practised tongue.
Indeed. I'll guard my resolve like a lit flame in a... well, in a gale.
I had been hoping you'd say that. To be an object of pity... I couldn't live with that.
No crutch - I can stand tall now, thanks to you. You've renewed my taste for living. I will not be a burden to you.
Indeed, most practical of you... I can only hope you did not find it an unpleasant endeavour.
Very well.
It's quite thrilling, to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side.
I once read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one's desire for... other forms of stimulation.
Have you ever read anything on that subject?
Only that I find you quite irresistible. Even illuminated by such rotten light as this place produces.
Perhaps it's just the thrill of our near-undead experience talking. But standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair, it only makes me want you more.
Unfortunately this is neither the time nor place to indulge such feelings. So, we must be patient and push all such thoughts aside. For now.
I believe you. You never look so beautiful as at the end of a stirring battle, your cheeks flushed, gaze bright, muscles glistening...
I can't imagine anywhere that could turn my heart from you, cursed or otherwise. You'd always be as beautiful, and as impressive.
You have? Then I might suggest we pool our knowledge. No sense in letting valuable first-hand experience go to waste, after all.
Of course. Such distractions are hardly the most important thing to discuss at present.
My love. I hope you enjoyed our voyage through the cosmos? I was hoping you might have a moment to talk about it...
Neither have I - the closest thing to a deserving canvas on which to place your beauty. But I've also not forgotten why I took you there.
I hope you don't think less of me. Great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. I see that now.
What divine calculus plucked each of us from the ether, and thrust us together?
I don't deserve you, truly. But I will do my utmost to earn the right.
I suppose I invited that caution I hear in your voice. And I will do my best to ease any lingering misgivings.
The highest ambition I harbour now is to see you smile, always.
True. Perhaps my notions leaned too optimistic. I would not wish Karsus' past to become my future. Not while I have you.
We really ought to go speak to Elminster. If not out of curiosity, then at least to make sure he doesn't eat his way through all of our supplies.
My condition is worsening again. I need to consume some powerful magic, or it may become volatile.
I know we have other things on our mind, but please - do not neglect my request. It is most, most urgent.
It's Astarion, isn't it? I've felt the tension between you. I told myself it was casual, not a matter of the heart... but clearly I was wrong.
You two have grown closer than I thought possible. And it looks like I'm the last to know.
I... I thought you would show me the respect of telling me first, but no matter. You can tell me now - who is it to be? Me, or him?
I see. Well, I suppose he does have a certain charm about him. If you're into that sort of thing.
I'll just put my feelings to one side. I think that's best for everyone. It's certainly the best thing for me.
I won't leave - not unless you want me to, or until fate forces my hand. If your friendship is all we have, then I will be happy to have it. Eventually.
Worry not. I carry my regrets wherever I go, and am used to their weight. One more will not break my back.
And I am lucky to have met you... my friend.
I could no more hate you than I could go without air.
I'm sorry, but to know I had less than the whole of your heart - I can't do it. Not when I would give all of myself to you.
Call me greedy, stubborn, old-fashioned... but I cannot change who I am, or how I love.
In any case, know that I harbour no ill-will. I would rather see you happy with another, than not happy at all.
Perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach... but I was only myself, and sometimes that isn't enough.
Whatever your decision, I will accept it. But you must choose. You cannot have us both.
You would sacrifice what you have with Lae'zel, for me? She will not be pleased...
I think you're right. Not one to let emotions get in the way, I'd say.
I'm sure it would never come to that. A clip round the ear perhaps, but nothing you can't handle.
And what of Karlach? Her heart can surely break, though it burns.
But what of Wyll? He's a born romantic, just as I am. To lose you could kill him...
You're right. And broken hearts mend, in time. I'm living proof of that.
I'm sure he'll take it with grace. Or at least pretend to.
And what of Astarion? I fear you are one of the things that keeps his darkest impulses at bay.
You are right. And your heart should not be the price of his redemption. He must earn that for himself.
I am beyond lucky to have you. Sometimes even the power of the Weave seems mundane, compared to how you make me feel.
And he will be grateful for it. I'm sure. Your friendship is a blessing for anyone, though I'm glad our bond is becoming something more.
Don't apologise. You must not deny your heart's desire. I would not want you to.
And what of Shadowheart? It took a lot for her to open her heart to you. She'll not exactly be pleased if you decide to break it for her...
And she will be grateful for it. I'm sure. Your friendship is a blessing for anyone, though I'm glad our bond is becoming something more.
Ooft, you are a very Cone of Cold!
Ahem. I hope you're not here to ask about our recent, erm, activities. I'd rather those were consigned to the footnotes of our romance, if it's all the same with you.
I'd normally be buoyed by the sight of so many friendly faces. I fear they'd be far less welcoming if they know of my condition.
My need is more urgent than ever - I must consume an item soon. I cannot stay in the company of good people otherwise. Too risky.
We must find a suitable artefact urgently.
My need is more urgent than ever - I must consume an item soon. We have exactly what I need in our possession - please, just give it to me.
Karlach, yes? You burn for each other in more ways than one.
I... I thought you would show me the respect of telling me first, but no matter. You can tell me now - who is it to be? Me, or her?
Don't be - she has a good heart. Poor phrasing - she has a terrible heart. But she's surprisingly caring, considering it.
I finally have the tome I needed. Such knowledge - such power - contained in such a small object.
I don't wish to nag, but have you put any thought towards what I asked of you? I must consume the magic from a suitable vessel soon.
We've already found something of sufficient potency. Please - give it to me.
My condition is not overly fussy. So long as there is sufficient power in the item, it will be satisfied.
You have my thanks, though unless we find a treatment soon, you won't have my full strength.
If I cannot remain stable... well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'd hate to cut our acquaintance short, shall we say?
Do you need anything else of me?
I'm afraid it remains mine. But there is still time yet. Just remember what I ask - it's a small price, for what I hope I bring to our company.
I'd sooner we set our course together than deprive you of my company sooner than the fates might otherwise have decreed. It's really up to you.
My condition likes being ignored as little as I do. I must consume another artefact. And soon.
The Annals of Karsus... The preamble to a civilisation's downfall, committed to parchment by the very hand that wrought its destruction.
If the crown atop the elder brain was truly forged by Karsus himself, this book will confirm it. All we have to do is turn the page...
The truth of the crown, I hope. All that stands between us and enlightenment is the turn of a page...
If my suspicions are correct, the crown currently perched atop the elder brain may be one of Karsus' design. And now we hold the very tome that could confirm it.
That devil Raphael was telling the truth.There's no doubt - the Crown of Karsus is what's controlling the elder brain.
This isn't what I expected... this is much more. The Crown of Karsus.
And this - this is no mere journal - it contains Karsus' original plans for the Crown's construction. His designs for godhood.
Not exactly. It was what he did with it that sealed his fate, and for a time, that of magic itself. The Crown was merely the means.
Gods have ascended through far stranger means - a circle drawn on a globe, a walk in a swamp, the destruction of a magical stone. Why not with a symbol of such innate authority?
Not from scratch - unless you happen to have several pounds of the purest netherese metals in that pack of yours?
Don't worry - I'm not asking you to surrender anything else on my account. What's called for here is something altogether different.
I haven't the foggiest. No doubt through some nefarious means - the crown's existence had been consigned to legend centuries ago.
The book states that the Crown and Netherstones were originally one construct, seemingly sundered at the moment of Karsus' downfall.
If we can collect the crown's setting, and the three Netherstones, and with the correct invocation of certain spells and gestures detailed in these notes... I think I could reforge it.
A situation I suggest we remedy with the utmost urgency.
I promise you - the power such an item would give us is worth transcending all nine Hells for. The heavens too, while we're at it.
To every end you can imagine, and a thousand more beyond.
Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us.
Just think of it... the power of the gods in mortal hands at last. We'd be free of doctrine and dogma, confined only by the limits of our imaginations.
We must discuss this further - but quietly. Privately.
Find me later, and I will show you something truly divine. I will show you what a crown like this could mean for both of us.
Afraid not. What I have to show you requires us to be its only witness, and our minds to share in the most exquisite concentration.
Please - don't be too hasty about this. It would be a pity to reach that conclusion without a true understanding of what this could mean for us.
Don't worry - your patience will be amply rewarded.
I promise you - the gods will never grant us such a blessing, no matter how much we worship and adore them.
Some gods may delude themselves into believing they care about their worshippers, but when it comes down to it - we're all expendable. Children to be appeased, not respected.
I worshipped Mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power I was ready to wield.
Even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. She's done nothing to help us.
Mystra wanted the brain obliterated because of this crown. She fears a world in which such power is beyond her control - ready to be claimed by Karsus' successor.
Neither of us can know what truly may be if we don't at least try. Potential is nothing in itself - just a fleeting dream, unless we drag it into the waking world. Please, at least think on it.
Powerful as he was, Karsus lacked some advantages I can lay claim to.
I know Mystra - intimately. And I carry a fragment of the Weave itself within my body. Karsus achieved many things, but he never managed that.
A long road lies ahead before the Crown comes into our possession. All I ask for now is that you not dismiss this possibility out of hand. Please - at least think on it.
I see. I suppose I am asking you to take a leap of faith even the most loyal of companions might struggle to land gracefully.
I've spent so long feeling... inferior, shut out from my destiny over such a simple act of youthful enthusiasm.
Perhaps I got carried away with the thought this Crown could give me back what Mystra took. Cure me, even.
You're right. There aren't many wizards who'd care to be mentioned in the same breath as him, or his folly.
Very well then - I will try my utmost to share in your optimism. Nothing wrong with a little hope, after all.
Of course it's dangerous - but that's hardly a unique quality when it comes to the purposes we've pursued together.
Regardless - you've made your point. I shall put thoughts of the crown aside for the time being.
It gives me some courage, to think that you see greatness in me. I hope I live up to your expectations.
Whatever comes of this, we cannot allow the Crown to be reforged in Raphael's image.
A devil wielding the might of Karsus... it would be the end of everything.
At least we can face our enemy armed with the knowledge of its true nature. And of the stakes, should we fail to defeat it.
Thank you for letting me read this. At least we can face our enemy armed with the knowledge of its true nature. And of the stakes, should we fail to defeat it.
That's all I ask.
I didn't mean that as a slight. I cherish our adventures, but even if we prevail, you must know the end is in sight, mustn't you?
This is no passing whim, trust me. If I can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. It is not a decision I'll take lightly.
It's our future that I'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us.
For now - we've learned all we can.
That tome proved to be even more valuable than I ever could have imagined. For both of us.
Here's your tome back. It proved to be even more valuable than I ever could have imagined. For both of us.
I'm glad you can recognise this for the opportunity it is. Nevertheless, it is not a step to take lightly.
Do you think I had not considered that? I have no intention of repeating his folly.
Not until this moment, but I can't help beginning to see such a destiny unfold before me.
Perhaps they deserve to be challenged. Perhaps you and I deserve better than to live and die as their pawns.
She sent me to die.
Ambition is not a sin. To question the powers that rule us is not treason. We must at least try - why wallow in the dirt when we can reach for the stars?
I don't know. Ao does not look kindly on gods meddling in mortal affairs - she may have no choice but to stand by and let events unfold.
Then you're already wiser than me. That's a lesson I've only recently learned.
But do you not expect something in return for your devotion? Some favour, some stir of courage, some response?
Well, there'd be risk in such an endeavor, but only proportionate to the reward.
Do not mistake the crown itself for the actions of its wearer, or rather, those controlling its wearer at present.
If we could restore its former glory, it would no longer be a mere leash and collar, used to subjugate friend or foe. It would be something greater. Something divine.
Karsus - I believe I mentioned him before. The child-who-would-become-a-god. He was the most powerful wizard ever known... and he attempted to unseat the goddess of magic herself.
Karsus. The child-who-would-become-a-god. He was the most powerful wizard ever known... and he attempted to unseat the goddess of magic herself.
Only she used the last of her power to block him from the Weave. His magic faltered. The great flying cities of Netheril plunged from the sky. Karsus' Folly.
That goddess of magic was reborn as Mystra. She ruled on, while Netherese magic was reduced to mere fragments of what Karsus once wielded - artefacts, the most powerful of which appears to be his Crown.
And since when have we sought to avoid trouble, eh? Come now, the knowledge lurking between those pages could help us greatly. Don't be a hindrance after being such a great help.
Then we ought to make time. This could be the answer to everything.
I hope you're right, because if you're wrong, there's no words to describe the opportunity you'll have squandered.
I didn't mean that as a slight. I cherish our adventures, but even if we prevail, you must know the end is in sight, mustn't you
Your cheeks are flush, there's a twinkle in your eye... but I think I am no longer the cause.
It seems you've found your heart's desire, but with someone else. And who would I be, to stand in the way of such a union?
I assume you didn't come here to seek my blessing, though. Was there something else you needed?
Lae'zel. I could scarcely believe it at first, but I've seen the glances you share, the way you lean into each other's whispers. There is something between you two.
To seek the heart of a githyanki warrior takes a good deal of courage. I can only think what you share must be quite serious, to brave such a task.
If that is what will make you happy... well, I am not the one who would stand in your way.
We'll have to disagree on that score - competing against a githyanki warrior would be very poor for my health.
Don't worry, I know Minthara insisted on you abandoning me. Or at least I assume I'm 'the wizard' she was referring to.
I'm happy to stay as your friend, for as long as you'll have me. Though I'll keep a safe distance from your new lover, if that's all the same to you. Now, did you seek me out for a reason?
Whatever lurks in the darkness ahead, I can hardly face it in my present condition. I need my full strength to stand against such shadows.
We've already found enough magic to soothe its disquiet, if you'll just give me what I need.
I trust you'll treat the matter with the appropriate exigency. The moment we find a suitable item, please - give it to me.
I cannot keep throwing myself headlong into such danger while I am so unstable. If it my condition is not treated soon, I will be compelled to leave.
I'm afraid this is where we part ways - my condition's deteriorated beyond even my capacity to salvage.
It would be selfish of me to stay, when in doing so I'd be putting you, and everyone else within spitting distance in catastrophic peril.
Oh, I wouldn't say that. Just a man who's been living with the consequences of his actions for a tad too long.
If you recall nothing else of my time with you, let it be this: you were most special to me. And it will be your face I picture, when the end comes.
A shame. This is a journey I'd have liked to see through to the end, but I've my own finale to face. And it's best I face it alone.
It's too late for that, I'm afraid. My condition has shifted somehow - its hunger for the Weave can no longer be satisfied.
Don't tempt me.
Ah, I'm glad you've a moment for me.
My predicament has become rather urgent. I need a magical artefact to consume, right now.
It is Wyll, yes? The connection is palpable - no tadpole required.
He is a good man - I will not hesitate to say so. But I had hoped I was a good man also. And a worthy one.
Not for me to stand in your way, then. You two will make a fine couple... I can picture it already.
I'm not sure Wyll's family would appreciate their heir apparent being forced to share.
It's Shadowheart, isn't it? For one who guards her secrets so closely, she's made no attempt at hiding how much she wants you.
Shadowheart doesn't seem the type to share her toys, never mind her lovers. Neither am I.
Did you feel that?
If I wasn't surrounded on all sides by the darkness of the shadow-cursed lands, I'd think it was Mystra herself brushing against my skin.
That's Mystra's power for you. Where there's even a trace of magic, she will be there to bring it to life.
There's clearly some magic in you, if you were able to sense her presence. But I think I felt something stronger.
She's left some tiny part of herself to watch over me, I think. A boon to help us reach the Heart of the Absolute in one piece.
True enough, and somehow I doubt that's an order Mystra will be willing to rescind, no matter how many times I impress her. The stakes are simply too high.
Strange, though, that she would reward me for such a service now. She's hardly been forthcoming on that front since my banishment...
Perhaps I'm overthinking things. A blessing's a blessing. And this one should come in most useful.
To detonate the orb, you mean?
You might be onto something there. Though Mystra's intelligent enough not to resort to such overt manipulation.
I'd no idea you were so insensitive.
No, don't feel disheartened. Very few are capable of attuning themselves to what I just experienced. A state of affairs Mystra prefers, in all honesty.
Pleasant as that would undoubtedly be, it was no lover's caress I just felt.
The curse that afflicts the land appears to be a manifestation of an incredible amount of dark magic - the sort manifested through the Shadow Weave.
It is an altogether different form of magic, drawn from the negative spaces left in the Weave's wake. It is Shar's domain, not Mystra's.
I'm surprised she would risk making contact here, however briefly.
Mystra and Shar have a rather tense relationship at the best of times. It's best for everyone when they stay out of each others' domains.
For her to risk coming here, however tentatively, means she came with good reason. Because of what she asked of me.
Not weak, but subtle. Mystra knows it is a risk to make herself known here, however briefly.
After all, this cursed place is not hers but Shar's. Mystra came here with a purpose.
I can't help but feel like I've been fumbling in the dark for too long, and have just had a lit torch thrust into my hands.
The crown. The one the elder brain was wearing. The one I very nearly destroyed.
Netherese magic. So pure - so complete - that I didn't even recognise it at first...
The crown. The one the elder brain was wearing.
The elder brain. But more importantly, the crown that it wore. Even without seeing it for myself, I could sense it.
Netherese magic. So pure - so complete - that I doubted what I was feeling at first.
Most Netherese artefacts contain only the faintest amount of their former power - the ghost of an echo of a memory... that crown was different.
I can't fathom how such a wonder survived - surely everything of its ilk was destroyed along with Netheril itself... but no matter. It exists, and I must learn more of it.
I know what nearly happened... and I'm sorry, for putting you in that position. But I've stepped back from the precipice now. I've seen what may prove to be another way. A better way.
That crown sits on a gargantuan elder brain bent on destroying us and everything we hold dear. Understanding its true nature might unlock the means of our victory.
We need to learn more about what we saw. An artefact as powerful as that crown must have been documented somewhere.
Sorcerous Sundries is no mere trading post. It's been serving the arcane community for centuries.
As luck would have it, we'll soon find ourselves near one of the finest book collections this side of Candlekeep - Sorcerous Sundries. I need to go there, and learn all I can.
Ha! Sorcerous Sundries is no mere trading post. It's been serving the arcane community for centuries.
Book shopping. But yes.
Their collection of rare tomes is unparallelled. Netherese texts are hardly commonplace, but I'm certain they'll have one or two stashed away.
I doubt they'll have any books on breaking contracts with devils, though. We'll have to figure that one out for ourselves.
You'll have to forgive my eagerness, but if my suspicions prove to hold water, this could be the answer to all our problems.
Indeed, the journey awaits. One foot in front of the other is tried and true, I find.
The only kind I have.
No...? My needs are modest, but the fruits they could be may prove immense. I can only hope you have a change of heart when the time comes.
After all, a brief expedition into the bookshelves of Sorcerous Sundries is a small price to pay to save an entire city. Even if you aren't a fan of reading.
Likely not. If I've done damage to your opinion of me, then I am truly sorry. But if this crown amounts to what I suspect it is, then your faith will soon be restored, and then some.
It's clear crown and brain are intrinsically connected, and given the pressing urgency of us smiting the latter, understanding the former could make all the difference.
Indeed... under other circumstances, I might have been subdued. Or ashamed. But after what we saw? I must admit I'm excited.
Hardly - I'm more than glad to leave that place behind.
Apologies - I got rather lost in the metaphor there. Allow me to provide a map -
I speak of what we discovered at the heart of this cursed place.
Back on mortal soil once more. I can't believe I saw her, after all this time...
Relieved. Drained. Proud of myself, for summoning the courage to go to her in the first place. And, if I'm being totally honest - a bit light-headed.
As if it wasn't enough to have seen her again, she didn't exactly summon me there for small talk.
And what you felt was but the slightest drop drawn from the rushing torrent that is the Weave. I confess, without my former prowess even I struggled to stand her presence.
The effects on the mortal body of such unfettered magical exposure cannot be overestimated. She held back in order to protect us. To make sure I heard her.
She gave us the secret of the orb's power. I'd call that extremely useful knowledge to have.
The Karsite Weave, within me this whole time...
I knew the orb was no ordinary ball of magic, but for it to be Karsus' malignant creation... gods, how did I not see that?
But I should have known.
What right had I to go about declaring myself an archmage, when I was as foolish as a common apprentice in setting such an entity loose?
At least now I'm armed with the truth. And Mystra's expectations.
Once I bring the Crown of Karsus to her, I can put everything right. The orb too. I'll be myself again - for all that's worth.
It sounds like the door to redemption is open at last. All I have to do is walk through it, carrying the Crown of Karsus.
Perhaps.
I see few other options open to me, if I ever want to reclaim those parts of myself the orb snatched away.
If I ever want to be me again.
Thank you.
There aren't many I'd trust to stand beside me on such a journey. Fewer still who would do so because they believe I deserve such a chance.
I'll have to disagree with you there. Having not one but two parasitic entities within your body does very little for one's faith in one's personality.
Still, I should take the compliment with the same generosity it was given. So - thank you.
If I can promise you one thing in return for your faith in me, it's this - I will use everything in my power to ensure we defeat this evil.
Now, I believe we've a date with an elder brain to get to. Shall we?
Impulsive wreck? Gods, you make me sound like something a drunk fisherman scuppered on the banks of the Chionthar.
Needless to say - I've work ahead of me before I'll feel myself truly redeemed of the damage I caused. But I intend to try.
I - I don't know. It's been so long since I dared to imagine an end to the orb's hunger. I'd better start thinking about it, hadn't I?
Imagine - being able to picture one's life ending in something other than a cataclysmic explosion. What a treat.
Well, what's a ginormous elder brain once you've grappled with your own crippling anxieties?
It would be quite something to wake up in the morning without regret, and live each day knowing another will follow, like as not.
To be rid of the orb, and perhaps claim back what it took... To be me again.
I suppose there's no harm continuing to entertain the idea. Quietly.
Were I a more superstitious man, I confess I'd be inclined to see a certain divine destiny in the greatest of Karsus' creations re-emerging at the same time as one another, in the same city.
What if this is my chance? I'd be a fool not to take it...
I suppose you're right. No sense adding the all-powerful goddess of magic to our list of enemies. We've enough of those already.
Onwards to redemption then. And whatever lies beyond...
The futures unfolding for us would be infinite - impossible for me to describe. But possible for me to show you.
Find me at a more... private moment, and I will provide a glimpse into what the Crown could mean. For both of us.
I would be everything. No mere archmage, but the embodiment of a new form of magic, raw potential dancing from my fingertips.
I would have back everything I lost and a thousand times more. I would get what I deserved, one might argue.
True enough. There's a reason such unwitting heroes have been the backbone of lyric and legend for as long as both have existed.
Even so - I was hardly some naive apprentice at the time. I considered myself an archmage, and yet was fool enough to be mistaken for a common conjurer.
As always, I endeavour to be invigorated by your candour, rather than eviscerated by it.
Blunt as your summation is - it's correct. I dared to call myself an archmage while acting the apprentice. The hallmarks of a most excellent idiot, unfortunately.
If Mystra were here, I don't think she'd be best pleased with me for doing that.
She was always rather fond of pixies.
Still, I'm sensing no signs of any divine retribution incoming. I'm not quite sure what to make of that.
True enough. She'd certainly not want to jeopardise the completion of this little mission she and Elminster have concocted.
It may not be the most savoury kind of magic, but it will taste sweet enough if it brings us to the Heart of the Absolute in one piece.
We're up against the greatest threat Faerûn has ever faced. I don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving.
Refusing to compromise my morals would be rather a selfish thing given how many lives are at stake.
That's good to know. Although, I should say I do what I do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury.
Whatever advantage I can gain for us, I will. And I refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much Mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.
Quite the pair of legs you've got on you, to make that kind of leap.
No, Mystra wouldn't have issued an order like that if she was content for it to be ignored. She meant it. Perhaps so much so that's she's willing to overlook transgressions like this...
Then thank goodness I have you to keep me in check.
Now come, we'd best keep moving. We have many more shadows to face before we reach the Heart of the Absolute.
A valid and most astutely observed point.
It certainly seems that way, doesn't it? And I supect that suits her rather well for the time being.
Mystra would certainly exercise caution were she to make her presence felt in these cursed lands. But if she wanted to do so, even Shar couldn't stop her.
No, if she's remained silent then it goes withat saying that such silence carries import of its own.
So long as I have her mission ahead of me, I suspect she'll not want to distract me with any undue moralising.
I hope you're here to discuss that contract you just signed. Agreeing to give away our greatest hope of salvation wasn't the wisest of moves.
Tara remains as wilful as ever, but I'm glad you've finally made her acquaintance.
Given the length of my time away, I feared she might have given up on me. I should have known better - she'd never do such a thing.
It is. Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios.
It's been so long since I've used it. 'Gale Dekarios' cuts a poor figure next to the wizarding prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep.'
You like so many things about me I'd have sooner discarded... Your generosity is quite wonderful.
Gale Dekarios likes you too. Very, very much. Though let's keep his existence between ourselves for now.
Oh, she's happy if I'm happy. Morena couldn't care one jot what I call myself. Tara's the real stickler for using it. Has done since I summoned her.
I'd prefer you not follow her example, if that's all the same to you. 'Gale' is more than sufficient.
Was there anything else you needed of me?
Anything you ask, I'll answer as honestly as I can. I'm an open book, requiring only your gentle hands to turn my pages.
I agree. And on the plus side, if I get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.
That's Tara - loyal, intelligent, brave, and apparently unwilling to follow even the most basic of instructions when her own safety is at stake.
I wouldn't have her any other way.
I'd actually been thinking about introducing the two of you anyway. Over a sumptuous home-cooked meal, if that sounds at all to your taste?
My tower in Waterdeep boasts an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. Not to mention a larder stocked with my homemade hundur sauce.
A Waterdhavian delicacy, spiced to leave exactly the right amount of heat lingering on the tongue, and served with that most sharp-toothed of aquarian residents, the quipper fish.
I make it to my mother's recipe. It packs quite a wallop. As does she.
I can hardly wait.
More than you could possibly believe.
Ah, you have something more private in mind? No - don't tell me. I'll let my imagination fill in the gaps.
Now that we've got something to look forward to, I think it's time we went and saved the world. Don't you?
I always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. This wasn't quite what I pictured.
I thought we'd be in Waterdeep. You, curled up before a roaring hearth while I prepared us a ridiculously extravageant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.
I fear mine is a dream for another life. But a fine one nonetheless.
As for this one, I think we've still got a world to save. Unless there's anything else?
Gods, I love your optimism. Contagious in the most endearing way.
A tressym. Call her a cat again, and I assure you, you'll fare no better in her estimations than she apparently fares in yours.
I know you love me. Perhaps it was too much to expect you to love my cat as well. I mean, tressym.
Oh, I'm sure she had her reasons.
The Absolute should be a thing of the past, and I with it... yet at the risk of angering Mystra further, I'm glad it didn't come to that. Given what has come to light.
An audience with Elminster is never less than memorable.
I suppose it's time we dealt with the hollyphant in the room: you have questions for me, and I promise I have answers.
Ah. Well, that's rather a long and complicated story.
I'm sorry, and I assure you - you were never at risk. However, the cause of my condition is... complicated.
Not at all. Just some gallows humour for you. I assure you - you were never in any danger. Let me explain.
Hint taken. We'll leave that particular fuse unlit, for now. What do you need of me?
Oh. Well, in that case, I suppose we'll just move on.
I'd have hoped to introduce you to him in less dire circumstances, but those are hard to come by these days.
The doddering act is merely an illusion, one he's most adept at maintaining. Elminster is the most formidable wizard in the realms, perhaps in existence.
A wizard doesn't reach Elminster's age without enjoying their home comforts. Those who seek danger over cheese don't tend to live as long.
For Mystra to have sent him... The severity of her bidding could not be clearer. Or weigh more heavily on me.
Time seems so infinite when you are young... a month is an age, a year is a lifetime... it is a strange feeling, to realise how little of it one might have left.
Of course - he offered the clearest solution to our problem. All I have to do is find the right place and time, close my eyes, and let go...
Then the slate will be clean, wrongs will be righted, the Absolute will be gone...
...and I along with it.
I've no doubt she has the power to do so, but as for the permission... Ao would not look kindly on her meddling in mortal affairs. Divine intervention has a tendency to make things worse, not better.
As for Elminster... He's saved the realms more times than legend can recount. But to take on a god is no easy feat, even for him. My orb is the best chance we have - and only I can wield it.
Possibly the most spectacular one ever conceived, but essentially, yes.
I am living on borrowed time, in more ways than one. Perhaps... perhaps this is how it must be.
If there was, I'm sure the goddess of magic and the greatest wizard who ever lived would have identified it, but alas... only one solution is offered.
That's the one saving grace. It seems the orb is now stable, at least until I get to where I need to be.
But that remains ahead of us for now. The Heart of the Absolute must be discovered before I can stop its beating.
Then I suppose there is nothing more to be done but find the Heart of the Absolute... and stop its beating.
Let's save such certainty for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we're truly up against.
I had no doubt I could rely on you.
Of course. Kind of you to stop by.
It's not a demand he wanted to make of me. As Mystra's Chosen, he had no choice but to deliver her message, however much it pained him to do so.
Brave, or stupid. I've proved myself the latter too many times where she's concerned.
It certainly wasn't the reunion I was hoping for. Though if anyone had to deliver such a message, I'm glad it was my old friend.
No comment on a visit from the finest wizard in the realms, the famed Elminster of legend and lore? You are hard to impress.
So, what did you wish to speak about?
I can't believe Mystra granted me an audience, and I failed to hear her out.
She won't extend that invitation twice. We'll have to figure things out ourselves from here.
At least our conversation needn't come to such an abrupt halt. Unless you'd rather it did, of course.
You'll have to forgive me, but I'm struggling to understand why you'd agree to just hand over the crown? Especially for a bloody... hammer.
And handing it over to a devil would be a way to prevent it? Come now - you're many things, but never that naive.
Oh, yes of course I can see how the hammer we didn't know existed until Raphael generously enlightened us would take precedence.
He's always struck me as the trustworthy type.
We already know the potential that Crown possesses. We read it, written in Karsus' own hand.
I thought you understood that, but it seems I was mistaken.
If you'd rather put such power in the hands of a devil than in me, your trusted companion, well... that companionship might prove a rather fleeting one.
For now, our plan must remain the same. We go to Sorcerous Sundries, and learn about that crown. And pray the devil doesn't get there first.
I promise you - whatever outcomes we're hoping for in this world-ending endeavour of ours, letting that devil get hold of the crown must not be one of them.
No - what we should be pursuing is knowledge. We need to learn more about that crown.
We should pay a visit to Sorcerous Sundries. Their book collection is the envy of the Sword Coast - I'm certain the truth lurks somewhere on their shelves.
Why are you so certain we shouldn't?
I'm glad to hear it. But you realise, we can't just tell him we changed our minds.
I knew any artefact that could command an elder brain must be close to omnipotent, but for it to be the very crown Karsus forged... it verges on unbelievable.
I assure you - the hammer Raphael offered is mere scrap metal in comparison, whatever use he claims for it.
So the devil himself is pursuing the crown.
As for whether it's truly the Crown Karsus forged? Well, I think it's safe to assume we shouldn't take anything Raphael utters at face value.
Nor should we have signed any contracts with him, though that particular ship has already hoisted anchor and set sail with full crew and cargo…
We must claim the Crown of Karsus for ourselves - before anyone else does.
With that crown, Karsus almost toppled the gods themselves. We cannot hand such power over to Raphael. We must take it for ourselves.
Please - this has gone on long enough.
I was quite clear about the imperative nature of my request to you, and despite that I've seen neither hair nor hind of a magic artefact.
Already, I fear I've left my hunger untreated for too long. I need a magic artefact - now.
Already, I've allowed myself to go untreated for too long. I fear it's already too late - I've no choice but to depart this company of ours, and pray I find something for myself.
So do I.
Unless your 'word' is an artefact infused with an unusually high concentration of Weave, it's useless to me.
I know what I need, and I've spent too long trusting others to find it for me. It's time I shouldered my own burden, and let you shoulder yours. May we both get what we deserve.
Arsehole.
There's something I've been trying to tell you - I have a condition that requires me to consume potent magical artefacts.
I'm afraid my condition has escalated to the point we may be in some considerable danger. I must ask you to give me a suitable item. Immediately.
I'm afraid my condition has worsened to the point I cannot in good conscience stay in this company of ours. I need to leave, and seek an item to consume before it's too late.
It's my own fault. Somehow I never found the right moment, and now it's far too late.
The Karsite Weave... I had no idea. Do you realise what this means?
The orb is no stray piece of ordinary magic. It is something entirely different - the nascent form of a new divine power.
Of course I couldn't control it. I was mortal. But once I reforge the crown, the power of a god will be mine to command. The orb will answer to me.
Evil is a reductive term, too often used to dismiss choices the observer lacks the imagination to understand.
So do I. Though I'm not sure that's the purpose I'd apply it to.
Slim to none, I hope. Mystra has no right to prevent another ascending to the pantheon. Only Ao can decide that.
I knew it was powerful, of course, but I could hardly analyse something trapped within my own body.
Let me assure you - the Karsite Weave has no more inherent evil to it than a - a child in the womb, or an axe half-forged on the blacksmith's anvil.
It is a tool, ready to be shaped by its wielder. By me. And you know me to be someone of reasonably sound moral judgement, don't you?
But they didn't. I always thought it was a miracle that I survived, but I'm starting to wonder if there was more to it.
What if it chose me?
Precisely. What better person to wield Karsus' magic than one who is unafraid to pursue his ambition, gods and mortals be damned?
I don't think you're quite seeing what I'm seeing.
How can I not?
Think about it - the Crown of Karsus, the Netherstones, the Karsite Weave - no more than a tadpole's breadth from being reunited.
This is my chance to get back everything that was taken from me. Everything Mystra denied me. And once I have it, I can forge a better world. Be a better god.
I want you to help me.
I thought you more ambitious than this. I see I was mistaken.
Very well. I'll drop the matter - for now.
Well then - what more is there to discuss?
All we need to do is stay focused on the task at hand: defeating that elder brain. After that, you can leave the rest to me.
I'm seeing exactly what's before my eyes. If you prefer to keep yours closed - that's up to you.
Gods, it's refreshing to share the company of someone who sees things the same way I do.
I was supposed to sacrifice myself to stop the Absolute - yet I don't think I could have gone through with it, in truth. And I'm glad that I didn't, given what has come to light.
I've been threatened with the sharp end of a dagger before, but never with such a monster as Orin holding the blade.
It certainly would have been a disappointment to spend so long resisting the instructions of my own god, only to die as the play thing of someone else's.
I'm not sure I'll ever truly recover from the embarrassment of falling for her tricks, but physically - I'm absolutely fine. Rather well rested, as a matter of fact.
Whatever modicum of reason lurked in that warped mind of hers led her to spare me, rather than skewering my corpse over her temple door.
And you're so sure you wouldn't have fallen for her tricks? She might have been a raving lunatic, but she knew exactly how to lower your defences.
She appeared to me as Elminster. Came to our camp while you were gone, telling me of a netherese artefact he'd found. One he thought could turn the tide in our favour.
Part of me thought it was too good to be true, but the greater part decided to trust my old friend. I should have known it wouldn't be so easy.
I hope we never see Orin's like again. Mind flayers and Absolutists I can handle, but she was nothing but cruelty and carnage. Another whose god should go unworshipped.
I'm grateful that you did. Most would have abandoned me to my fate, rather than take on a Chosen of the god of Murder.
Glad to hear it. I'd rather leave that creature's memory firmly behind us. What do you need?
Listen here - we've reached the point of no return.
We're not compatible, you and I - neither in thought nor in temper.
It is time we part ways before our enmity spills over into violence.
No, ours was not a bond of strength but of convenience. It's outstayed its welcome.
I'd wish you a bright future, but since you cannot escape your own company, that would be a futile gesture.
So long. It hasn't been a pleasure.
Couldn't agree more.
That much we agree upon.
The currents of Weave around these sigils are absolutely fascinating. So much to explore!
A pity. I thought I sensed rapport, the promise of adventure, a flutter of excitement right here in my breadbasket... but perhaps it was merely indigestion.
A hand? Anyone?
By Mystra's eyelids, stop! Cease, you loon! Agh! Agh!
Just your average traveller stuck between realms. Pull me out and we'll get properly introduced.
Ow! Perhaps I should have clarified. A helping hand? Anyone?
Harder! Come on, put your back into it!
That's it! Go on, keep pulling!
Ooft, hello. I'm Gale of Waterdeep. Apologies, I'm usually better at this.
A bit shocked, but friend, it's a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
At magic.
Say, but I know you, don't I? In a manner of speaking. You were on the nautiloid as well.
Then I can only assume you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region.
I don't know what transpired exactly, but the ship broke into pieces and I suddenly found myself in freefall.
As I was plummeting to certain death, I spied a glimmer quite near where I estimated my body to impact with less-than-savoury propulsion.
Recognising this glimmer to be magical in nature, I reached out to it with a Weaving of words and found myself on the other side as it were.
How about you? How did you survive the fall?
Fair enough. But even so, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy.
That vast, burning wreckage behind you somewhat contradicts your story, but here you stand, so who am I to argue?
Still, swashbuckling heroics aside, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy.
I quite agree, but I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy.
Back on the ship, you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region, were you not?
No use sugarcoating it, is there?
Gotcha. Private. Nothing to do with me.
And yet, if we indulge in the hypothetical for a moment...
As a githyanki, it's no news to you that this parasite will soon turn us into mind flayers - an outcome I'd rather like to avoid.
The insertee we speak of, this parasite - are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation it will turn us into mind flayers?
It's a process known as ceremorphosis, and let me assure you: it is to be avoided.
So speaking about divine intervention, you don't happen to be a cleric, by any chance, do you? A doctor? Surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?
You don't happen to be a cleric, by any chance, do you? A doctor? Surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?
Most, no doubt. But I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few. You don't happen to be one of them?
Then it looks like we're both starved for answers.
A cap would keep the parasite nice and cosy, but its comfort is hardly my priority.
I suppose few enough can. It's not exactly a common affliction.
We're most certainly going to need a healer, and soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together?
Are you certain? There might be danger around the next corner, and a wizard is excellent company to keep.
Most excellent. A parasite shared is a parasite halved. Or something to that effect.
Oh! But before you think you're about to embark on a journey with most ill-mannered a man: thank you for pulling me out of that stone.
It was an act of foresighted kindness I assure you, for I have the feeling ample opportunities will present themselves for me to return the favour.
Oh, but I see now you're travelling with plenty of company already. Perhaps I can join you later instead.
I'll make my way to your camp, and embark upon a succulent slow-cook to be consumed upon your return.
Oh, but I've just come to realise you're not the leader of this little troupe. My joining your ranks is not your call to make, I'm afraid.
Hail your party leader, would you? I'd like to join if deemed amenable.
Your quite significant loss. Farewell then, and good luck.
As we've established, few enough can. It's not exactly a common affliction.
It is a valuable commodity, to be favoured so by the gods.
But even so, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy.
Whoa - easy does it. You really, really don't want to do that. Not a threat, just an observation.
Much obliged. Besides, I suspect the real villain here is one we have in common.
Ten years of bad luck if you kill a wizard. Why take the risk?
Then you leave me no choice but to answer your folly with fury.TemporaryHostilityAfterDialog
Apologies, I didn't exactly memorise my cephalopodian banishment spells last night. Wasn't the best prepared for an attack-by-squid.
No! I'm slipping away! I'll perish in here!
I'll perish...!
No! I can't make it out by myself. I'll perish in here!
Whatever you're doing, it's working wonders! Now a quick little pull should do the trick.
Just your average traveller stuck between realms. Pull me out and we'll get properly introduced
Ow! Perhaps I should have clarified. A helping hand? Anyone
Ten years of bad luck if you kill a wizard. Why take the risk
Ah, my saviour! I'd be in quite a bind if not for your valiant tugging.
My, I hope it has been made abundantly clear that to kill me is... Counterproductive.
I'd thank you for bringing me back to life, but your ending it in the first place has me rather in two minds about you.
That said, despite my return to the land of the living my predicament remains, and so of course does yours.
As such, I'm feeling magnanimous enough to let bygones be bygones. A healer is what we need. Shall we?
Most excellent! Then without further ado, let's be off!
Here's hoping we come across a powerful healer and a powerful wizard both.OriginAddToParty
I'd happily accept, but you're not the leader of your little troupe, are you? Not your call to make, I'm afraid.
And I'm flattered, I'm sure - but it seems you're travelling with a substantial amount of companions already. Maybe later, yes?
You've grown none the wiser, I see.
I sense the leadership of your troupe lies elsewhere. I'd be most grateful for an introduction.
Exploration merits companionship though. Shall we?
Look, I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot here.
How about we both try a little harder, yes? That - or part ways.
I consider myself as open minded as the next wizard, but I have to say, I think we're beginning to lose the magic a little.
Perhaps we're not as well-matched as I thought. I'm not giving up yet, but I have to warn you, I know when to walk away.
The more time we spend together, the less I feel I know you.
I think our relationship needs a bit of work. Or else I might need a bit of space.
Listen, I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion our joint travels are destined to fail. I could say it's me, not you, but that would be a lie.
So unless an honest effort is made on your part, I don't think we'll be travelling together much longer.
I'm afraid that goes for our relationship as well - I'll make my own way from here. Alone, again. What a disappointment.
There's a tension between us no doubt, but it's not the chemistry I took it for. I just don't like you very much. So, if you'll excuse me, I've better places to be.
It's a wonderful feeling, to care for someone so deeply. Treasure it.
Naturally. Irenicus, or 'The Exile', sought to extract divinity from Bhaalspawn blood. Needless to say, he failed in quite catastrophic fashion - hence the cautionary part of the tale.
Your duty, perhaps. Mine was quite the opposite. Every breath I take - however gratefully - is proof of my dereliction.
I can imagine no finer ceremorph for the job.
So long as none of us are on the pointed end of Astarion's hunger pangs, I think he deserves a chance.
You're being rather philosophical about all this, Karlach. I was expecting a more heated response.
So long as none of us are on the pointed end of his hunger pangs, I think he deserves a chance.
Quite right. We all have our hungers to sate. Some just happen to hunger for blood.
We all have our hungers to sate. Some just happen to hunger for blood.
Long before my time, thank goodness. That's not an image I care to dwell on.
Serves you right. Next time, ask before you bite.
You're one to talk! When exactly were you planning on telling me you were a vampire?
Learned your lesson yet, Astarion? Some people are best left unbitten.
Ah... much better. The Weave makes me feel like a new man.
Hells, I felt almost nothing - the flow of the Weave was barely a trickle. There must be another solution.
A little relief... but not much. The Weave seems fainter somehow. Is something amiss?
Hells, I need a magic item - now. Anything that the Weave flows through.
Ugh... I'm fading. I need a pick-me-up. Something with the essence of the Weave.
Ah... can't go on much longer. I need to feel the Weave... a magic item - something.
I'm feeling rather unsteady...
Deep breaths, Gale. Hold it together.
I'd be rather enjoying this journey, were I not wracked with pain.
One step in front of the other, Gale.
Ugh, I feel rotten.
I don't feel right. Not even close.
Getting weaker by the moment.
Feeling more unwell than ever.
What I wouldn't give for some respite.
Gods, this is bloody uncomfortable.
I hope I don't deteriorate further.
Struggling more with every moment.
My condition's only getting worse.
Interesting workaround... though not one that can be counted on it all circumstances.
Ah, a Thayan artefact. Yes, this is very promising.
Indeed. Exactly the sort of thing I'm looking for.
A hag's magic is nothing to be scoffed at. Yes, this will suit perfectly.
It brims with Weave. It is... quite remarkable.
Very fine drow weave indeed, if you'll excuse the pun. I can most certainly use it.
Forged with Selûne's blessing. Yes, I can most certainly use this!
A fine blade. Almost a pity to absorb it's magic, but I do so have need of it.
I can almost taste it's magic. Yes. Just the thing.
From what I can gather from afar, they do seem mighty interesting.
I think you're on to something.
Silvanus is an ancient and powerful god. I'm sure the magic in that idol is... delicious.
A fortunate find indeed. Allow me to take it off your hands.
Drow magic radiates from it. And drow are masters at magic.
Moonmaiden's magic. Both beautiful and powerful indeed.
There's an air about it like a soft mist. Weave to be sure.
Tara! No!
I think your new form rather suits you. It has a certain... cephalopodic charm to it. A tentacular tingle.
My word, you did it! Ha! Oh, it's good to be alive!
My hands are still cold so that handshake will have to wait, but in the meantime: thank you!
It's a relief to be back on beautiful Faerûn. The dreariness of the Fugue Plane oppresses one's soul so very quickly.
That said, I assume you have some questions for me.
Only fair to warn you I've precious few answers to spare.
I apologise if that sounds thankless. It's just that some secrets simply cannot be revealed.
You don't know. Not really. But after all you've done for me, I do suppose I should be at least a little bit forthcoming.
Tell you what: I will answer one question that you may have.
To the best of my ability.
If I can.
I am dangerous. Not because I want to be, but because of... an error I made in the past.
I told you how I sought to win the favour of Mystra. I did this by trying to control a form of magic only one wizard ever could.
I failed to control it. Instead it infested me.
It makes me dangerous - even in death.
You brought me back to life, and for that I'm in your debt, but we're surrounded by danger. It could happen again.
If it does, bring me back again. You must. For the sake of many.
Because it was the truth, and the truth is a great motivator.
When I told you I need powerful magic to keep my condition under control, I didn't tell you why. Well, here's part of the why:
It is magic from another time and another place. It is something that is beyond me, yet inside me.
That makes me dangerous - even in death.
That's... Well, that's very kind of you. If the roles were reversed I don't know if I'd have your patience.
There's no knowledge in a glimpse of darkness. My secrets are still my own.
I did say that. And I did mean it. And I do suppose that after all you've done for me, I should be at least a little bit forthcoming.
I do trust you. But some things... Some things are kept in the dark for good reason.
I... I suppose that after all you've done for me, I should be at least a little bit forthcoming.
And yet, there's too much a few answers could undo...
I think I've already proven I take my secrets to the grave.
Now, I believe adventure awaits. Or misadventure, perhaps. Shall we?
Nothing would give me greater pleasure. What's the subject of the day?
But a necessary one! Scrolls of True Resurrection don't grow on trees, you know.
Yes, I was afraid you'd say that.
Quite. And I must say - I'm glad you've taken my plight to heart. I see my trust in you was most excellently placed.
I'd advise against satisfying your hunger on me. Who knows what the orb might do if it realises its host is the one being drained.
Your optimism is inspirational as always, but I think convincing the general population to place their fates in the hands of a devil - however well meaning - might prove challenging.
You'll have to more to earn the people's trust than be your father's son. But I know you to be a duke worthy of the title - they will see it too, in time.
The Blade of Avernus!
The Blade of Frontiers!
Grand Duke Ravengard!
Careful now - you sound more a despot than a duke. If this is truly the authority you seek, you must wield it justly.
Oh, and a quick word of warning, Astarion: I taste absolutely awful. Keep your distance.
Well, we all have secrets in one form or another. So long as his don't come back to bite us, I'm not here to judge.
So we're travelling with a vampire, are we? Of course we are.
A word of warning, Astarion: I taste absolutely awful.
So we're travelling with a vampire, are we?
Well, we all have secrets in one form or another. So long as his don't come back to bite us, I'm not one to judge.
A word of warning, Astarion: I taste absolutely awful. Keep your distance.
So, you didn't fancy sharpening up the old moniker? I'd have thought the 'Blade of Frontiers' might be feeling a bit dull after all you've been through.
Orbs of dragonkind. Could it be? I thought only three were left.
You sound a man with the nine hells at his heels.
Were I a less considerate man, this is where I'd remind you of the importance of reading the fine print. But fear not - I shall bite my tongue.
Six months is a trifle - you'd barely read through a single bookcase in Candlekeep in such a time.
She's gone... and Wyll's been consigned to the Hells along with her. Farewell, Blade.
That thing looks set to kill her!
My sympathies for your wearied soles. Care to explain what you're doing?
Mystra? What does she want of me?
All right, let's go.
Head to my camp yourself. I'll join when I can.
Don't keep me in suspense, Elminster.
Well, boots are made for walking. I believe a bard once said something similar.
Spare me the chagrin - I didn't ask for you to track me down.
Say nothing.
I'm not feeling all that indulgent just now.
Yes, yes, yes, be that as it may, you said you came all this way on my behalf, did you not? For what purpose?
But why? Out with it, Elminster. Please!
Oh, for the love of...
Nigh on thirteen centuries old and he still thinks with his stomach. We'd best follow, and see if he's more disposed to speak plainly once it's stopped its grumbling.
A wise choice. Better to indulge our curiosity than Elminster's appetite.
There go our best supplies.
Meet Elminster Aumar. A good friend of mine, but rather more significantly, he's the most famed and respected wizard in the realms.
Originally? Shadowdale. Lately? The fanciest inns of Waterdeep.
How dare you?
This is Elminster Aumar, the most famed and respected wizard in the realms!
An all-too-familiar tale. I refuse to believe we cannot alter the ending.
You worship Shar? Blimey. She and my beloved Mystra are not exactly friends.
|What in the Hells are you planning to do?|
|Are we killing in cold blood now?|
That power isn't worth so many lives - trust me.
All gone, just like that... I hope it was worth it.
You chose well. They may not be the safest types to unleash, but their deaths would have weighed heavy on you.
No, Astarion, do not speak those words! The cost is too great!
Those scars... great pain's been visited upon you. I'm sorry.
Leave it, Astarion. The butcher's bill is too steep, no matter what power it grants you.
All those lives... was it truly worth it?
For the best. They may not be the safest types to unleash, but their deaths would have weighed heavy on you.
There is nothing more to be done here. High time we left.
The truth, Elminster. How Karsus' Crown could yet be reforged. Or destroyed, as the case may be.
If it was up to her, I'd be a pile of ash along with the rest of the shadow-cursed lands by now. I can't imagine what she has to say to me. 'Sorry', perhaps.
A way to destroy the Absolute without using the orb. I hope.
You don't seem all that surprised to see me alive and well.
Oh, nothing in particular. Some charms here, some potions there...
Very well. I'll seek her statue at the Tabernacle.
She's finally decided to get involved, has she? About bloody time.
That sounds dangerous. I thought she wanted me dead?
I don't need Mystra's help. I can defeat the Absolute without her.
Whatever Mystra has to say to me, it's far too late. I'm getting that Crown.
I learned how to reforge the Crown of Karsus. And I'm going to do it.
I was destined for greatness, Elminster. This might be my only chance to take it.
If I can exploit the Crown's powers, I could defeat the Absolute in an instant. We'd never fear their like again.
You have a better suggestion? I'm all ears.
What are you saying? Or rather, what are you not saying?
Perhaps it would have been better to keep that particular opportunity between ourselves...
Perhaps they do. Would you begrudge me the chance to make things right, Elminster?
I'm curious enough to make the attempt. All right - an audience with the mother of magic it is.
Mystra's willing to speak to me again? Was this your doing, Elminster?
The past is the past, Elminster. And the future is... well, still to be decided. By me, not by Mystra.
And why exactly should Mystra have any say on what I do with Crown?
Mystra hasn't seemed inclined to hand out second chances so far. None she'd have me survive, anyway.
Perhaps he does. Would you begrudge me the chance to make things right, Elminster?
Perhaps she does. Would you begrudge me the chance to make things right, Elminster?
An astral projection. Seems she's taking no chances with us.
Reach out. Go to Mystra.
Mystra. Please - I have so much to explain to you.
Because I have someone else to live for.
Because my life isn't yours to throw away. You had no right to ask that of me.
I was afraid. Afraid to die. Afraid that I might fail.
I was a danger to you. What I did, or rather, attempted to do, was reckless.
Because I disobeyed you. You punished me for it.
I let you down. I was a fool, and fools don't deserve the love of a goddess.
You were threatened. You realised you couldn't control me.
Our relationship bored you. The orb was just an excuse to end it.
So that's what you're scared of. The magic within me is one you can't control. But with the Crown of Karsus, I could.
I never intended to do harm. Only to prove myself worthy of you.
Then why did you strip me of my abilities? I could have put things right.
You're one to talk. How many innocents were you prepared to sacrifice if I detonated the orb?
Is that why you lied to me about the Crown of Karsus? Self-preservation?
You're the mother of all magic, the Weave incarnate. Can't you just destroy the Crown yourself?
Very well. The next time we meet, I'll be bringing you the Crown.
I understand now why you asked what you did. I should use the orb, and ensure Karsus' powers are truly destroyed.
I don't need your forgiveness. The Crown of Karsus will be mine, and the Karsite Weave will obey me.
I don't know. I need time to think.
No wizard worth their hat would destroy such a powerful artefact without first understanding it.
I owe you no explanation. Not after how you've treated me.
You break up with me, cut me off from the Weave, leave me to die, and that's all you have to say? 'You look well'?
What can I say? Adventuring suits me.
And you look radiant.
I didn't come for small talk. Why did you summon me?
I didn't call on you to make small talk. You owe me an explanation.
Not yet.
The old man wasn't lying. She's opened a summoning channel. Can't you feel it?
A stream of pure, undiluted Weave. I only have to reach out, and it will carry me to Mystra, wherever she may be.
Strange... Do you feel that? It's as though the Weave itself is rushing past us...
It's a summoning channel, the kind Mystra once used to call me to her side. I only have to reach for it, and it will take me to her side.
Time was I'd have given my right arm for a chance to speak with Mystra again. The left one too. Maybe a knee...
Am I?
You're right. I am a strong, capable wizard. And this is no more than a casual reunion with an ex-lover.
My omnipotent, omniscient ex-lover...
Not the message one hopes to receive from a past lover. But her first love was always the Weave. At best, I was a close second.
Thankfully not. Though she's not been averse to demanding the odd human sacrifice in recent days, has she?
When I pictured this moment, I thought I'd feel more in control. Yet here I am, with palms sweatier than a bugbear's armpit.
I always wondered what being nervous would feel like. I hate it.
You're kind to say so, but this is hardly my first time in Mystra's presence. It's more the matter of what I'm going to say to her.
You know what it is to worship her, to respect her, to love her…
It was intoxicating. An experience beyond expression.
During my time locked away in Waterdeep, I prepared a quite comprehensive speech for her on the subject of our former relationship, and the manner in which it ended.
Alas, recent events have rendered the majority of it moot, so I'm going to have to improvise. Unless you have any words of wisdom to impart before I go?
The summoning channel Mystra has provided is one only I can enter. No matter how much I'd prefer not to face her alone.
Mystra's forgiveness? If you want me to claim the Crown of Karsus, she'll hardly be in a forgiving mood after that.
I think it's best I keep a cool head going into this. Approach it like a particularly high-risk round of Three-Dragon Ante.
I'll let Mystra show her flight, and then I can see how strong a chance we stand of winning the gambit.
I'll only be gone for a matter of moments. The Outer Planes experience time quite differently to our own.
Wait for me. Please.
You're right. A heartfelt apology is the surest way to a goddess' heart, and her favour.
I'd pray that she'll be in a forgiving mood, if she weren't the one I'd be praying to.
With pleasure. It's not often one has the chance to threaten a goddess and make good on it.
Mystra won't be the one issuing the orders for much longer. She'll know exactly who's coming for her.
This won't take long, and when I'm done, I'll be free of Mystra's yoke once and for all.
Mystra. I never thought we'd speak again like this. Why am I here?
I didn't want to die. And when I saw the Crown, I thought I might not have to, if I only understood its power.
That can't be. It wasn't - it couldn't have been. I only wished to prove myself worthy. I had no idea...
I won't let you down again. When the Absolute is vanquished, I will surrender Karsus' powers to you. You have my word.
Not happening. When I get my hands on that Crown, I'm going to wield it. Karsus' powers will be mine.
A great ask indeed. You've given me much to think on - as you always did.
Well somebody had to. You weren't exactly forthcoming with any offers of help.
So that's what you're scared of. With the Crown of Karsus reforged, I could take control of the Karsite Weave.
You abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. I had no obligation to help you in yours.
Because you had no right to ask that of me. You cast me out, remember?
No thanks to you. I wasn't expecting a summons, but then you did always prefer things on your terms.
As do you. But I assume we're not here solely to exchange compliments. So, why am I here?
It's one thing for us to actually pursue the Crown. I'm not entirely sure I want to threaten Mystra with the prospect on her own turf, so to speak.
You'd make a fine Three-Dragon Ante player, you know.
What do you mean? I've been waiting for an opportunity like this since long before our paths crossed.
This is my only opportunity to learn the truth. About the Crown, the orb, all of it. Why try to keep me from it?
Fine. If you're so against the idea, I suppose we can forge ahead without input from the goddess of magic.
I'm sure she has nothing pertinent to share whatsoever.
Confident almost to the point of arrogance I may be, but in this matter I know she'll have wisdom to share. As for whether I choose to act upon it... we shall see.
I don't suppose you can imagine what it's like, to have your god as your lover…
No doubt you yourself have sought Mystra's wisdom from time to time, but to not only receive her blessings, but her love…
For a wizard, to have the love of the goddess of magic herself...
Oh that hardly matters. There's not much further I could fall in Mystra's estimation. But I'd like to at least leave her with something to think about.
You have more faith in her than even I did... Understandable, though, when you have not loved her as deeply, or known the depths of her affections.
The summoning channel Mystra has provided is one only I can enter. No matter how much I'd prefer not to face her alone
The summoning channel Mystra has provided is for me alone. No one else is permitted to enter it, no matter how talented a user of the Weave they are.
Stand down, Wyll. She may add a little extra spice to her language, but she's no devil.
This is your quarry, Wyll? Less devilish than I had anticipated.
She's, erm, perhaps a little rough around the edges... but I suppose I can be smooth enough for two...
Are you sure we should be trusting him?
Have you got any other magic objects you'd be willing to part with?
She says that will be all.
I'd like to know if you have any other interesting objects to trade.
It appears my old friend Tara here has found some objects that might interest us. Care to trade?
For me? You shouldn't have.
Tara, I don't suppose you're responsible for the missing messenger pigeons...
I'd offer you some of your favourite meat, but I haven't got any. Beholder jerky is surprisingly hard to come by.
Very well. Enjoy your feast, Tara.
Tara! That can't be you, can it?
My, is that a ring? For us? You shouldn't have.
Enjoy yourself now, Tara. Looks like you've got yourself set up quite nicely here.
She isn't my tressym. She's my friend. And from the looks of things, it appears she's eating pigeons.
Oh. Right. Did you hear that, Tara? Erm. Stop it.
She's agreed. Just about.
Tara, I don't suppose you're responsible for the missing messenger pigeons…
Hang on - isn't this where the post house's courier pigeons roost? I don't suppose you've been eating them…
No more pigeons, Tara. They have an important job to do.
No, but I am going to make you very sorry if you don't stop.
More or less. But the city is still in danger.
Up to my eyeballs in drama, deceit, and subterfuge. Nothing unusual.
We'll catch up later, Tara - there's no time now.
I am. Stop that, Tara! You need to leave the pigeons be.
There's a much better aviary across town, if you've already picked over the choice cuts here.
Enjoy your feast, Tara.
Time to move along, Tara. If you get caught here, you'll be in trouble.
Leave.
Nothing good can come of it unless it is contained. Why?
You had a taste for tentacles?
On the nautiloid? No, this is a different nursery - similar, but not identical. There's likely one in every colony.
Uhm... Sure. In silence.
What did you have in mind? A quiet party, toasting your return with a few good friends?
Sounds like a recipe for disaster. But you know what? I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.
Easiest thing in the world. Though I'd do it the other way around.
No mere temple. This was a monastery, devoted as much to study as to worship.
Quite the opposite. Some monastic orders celebrated their pungency as proof of their devotion. 'To think is to stink' was the motto of one ill-fated brotherhood near Amn.
Oh, but you meant beasts of the life-threatening variety? Yes, I'm sure it's teeming with those.
Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.
Unsurprising, really. Fanatical cultists tend to care more for ambience than aesthetics.
Not just clever - rather ingenious. Somehow its construction keeps the Shadow Curse at bay.
I'm hardly pining. It's been a year or more since Mystra cast me aside.
Ignore him. Astarion envies the depth of our bond because he's of a shallower inclination.
Sordid? I lay with the Mother of Magic herself. What we had was transcendent, euphoric, incandescent. Not sordid.
You know what - that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.
He's patriarch of the Szarr family. Nasty fellow, if the histories are accurate.
I knew I should've attended the Blackstaff's lectures on githyanki tir'su.
If I understood their script, who knows what secrets their texts would surrender...
I see you waste no time pursing your quarry, Astarion.
Tell me, do you always woo your lovers with such patient attention?
I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, Astarion.
One heartbreak was quite enough for me, but to experience it as many times as you have must change a person.
So, Astarion. I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently...
I trust you speak of the bonds of love, and not the shackles of servitude.
If you're feeling faint after your bout with Cazador, Astarion, I don't mind donating some blood.
Mystra has a shrine within the city. Located in the Stormshore Tabernacle, if my memory serves me.
You never felt the call of the divine, Astarion?
Home and hearth, reduced to ruins. The shadow curse stole more than the light from this place.
Wildshaping must sprinkle some spice on your love life, Halsin.
Oh no. Quite the opposite, actually. She mostly preferred our interactions to be abstract and incorporeal. Most invigorating.
Gods, who knew such a vile abcess lurked in the bedrock of the city. The very stone reeks of misery and despair.
Nor should you. Far better to feel a cool breeze on your skin than whatever foul expirations blow through these halls.
It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place...
On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd have been quite happy without.
They say wealth offers a form of magic. Alas, it's one I've rarely dabbled in.
Make no mistake. Souls are sold for coins up here as well. All too cheaply, in most cases.
Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit.
And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles.
The architects who built this must have been remarkable. A pity their vision didn't stand the test of time.
You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?
A hidden shrine, dedicated to the Moon Maiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on.
I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep?
Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky.
No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.
Do you feel that? A darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave.
Of course, but that doesn't make the shadows less dangerous.
You know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality...
Actually, I was thinking of poetry.
I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach.
Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage.
Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach?
Look around you. Indulge your curiosity. Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around.
What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield. They sell knowledge, ingenuity, the wisdom of mages past.
Tell me, Lae'zel, what is it like on the Astral Plane? Your home realm intrigues me.
Blast scars. Spell and sword alike were used to ravage this battlefield.
I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.
I always wondered what a vampire's lair would look like. Can't say I pictured it being quite this... theatrical.
That makes sense. She does have a flair for the dramatic.
Not to diminish our efforts, but it was rather simple getting here in the end, wasn't it?
There's magic here, but it's of a rancid, impure form. Nothing like the true Weave at all.
The Weave is constant, but it's users? Anything but. We must be on our guard.
I'm surprised you're permitted to choose a partner outside of your own people.
I can't imagine Mother Gith would approve. Doesn't she prefer us lesser species enslaved? Or eviscerated?
I've been pondering something, Lae-zel. Why is it that githyanki have belly-buttons, when they hatch from eggs?
I - I wasn't gazing, merely observing. Though that can hardly be said for a certain someone else...
Tell me, Lae'zel, is it common for githyanki to fall in love?
I hoped Moonrise would give me answers, but at every twist of its corridors I find only more questions...
Ambiguity does not come naturally to you, does it Lae'zel? Your life must be far simpler for it.
No day, no night. It's as though time itself has abandoned this place.
Similar to the Astral Plane in some ways, wouldn't you say, Lae'zel?
Pigeons, gulls, sparrows - these streets make a fine hunting ground for a tressym like Tara.
Flying hounds? Come now - you're pulling my leg, aren't you?
I'm glad to know you have a softer side, Minthara. I was beginning to think you rather heartless.
So you admit you've found love! How delightful - I'm happy for you both.
I found an empty bottle of venom in camp, Minthara. Safe to assume it was yours?
Let's never speak of this again.
My, my. Well I'll say this for the Bonecloaks - they know their mushrooms.
A by-product of their profession. Few can spend a lifetime inhaling fungal spores without turning out a bit muddled between the ears.
Whatever I expected to find lurking in this cursed gloom, it certainly wasn't this. A glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.
Pragmatism, thy name is Shadowheart. You're not wrong though - best we keep our sojourn here to a minimum.
The Society of Brilliance has quite the reputation. Even Waterdhavian academics refer to their works from time to time.
I take it you're not inclined to study the wonders of the underdark?
Look at this place. Such horrors defy description...
So... Shadowheart. Such a name implies yours is a difficult heart to find.
When we met, Shadowheart, your gaze seemed to linger in the distance on some unseen goal, some insubstantial purpose.
I notice now, your gaze settles on something, or someone, much closer.
Of course. There's nothing escapes a wizard's powers of observation.
I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired.
The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep are far superior. And they have the most excellent soaps.
So, you decided to bind yourself to your goddess, Shadowheart...
I'm sure. But you might have learned from my experience. The gods demand more than vows when calling followers to the altar...
Even shaped by shadow as it is, Sharran architecture has a kind of beauty to it.
There you go, cutting right through the ephemera to the heart of the matter. Your finest quality, I think.
Nothing wrong with a bit of friction now and then. You help me keep my mind sharp.
Gondian artificers might lack a certain worldly wisdom, but there's no doubting they're masters of their craft.
I admire any who follow their curiosity to novel and unexpected means. This is how the world changes for the better.
The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here - a fascinating resource.
Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.
The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were.
No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed.
Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the Heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it.
Your confidence is encouraging but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead. Or eye, as the case may be.
Whatever the outcome of what's just ahead, it will be the stuff of legends.
My money's on you, Wyll.
These cragged hillls make for weary soles. I see why most headed inland prefer the smooth sailing of the Chionthar.
You've seen it for yourself?
If your natural charm isn't quite up to scratch, Wyll, there are magical means of adding a little flourish of charisma.
I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer too.
I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball.
You've asked the right wizard. My oratory skills have left many a wedding guest weeping in their seat.
I can promise it will feel like less than half an hour...
A tollhouse like this would only be merited in the most prosperous of settlements. This was once a thriving trade route.
I imagine the vista was more idyllic back then. As were its patrons' chances of surviving the walk home.
I'm not sure Ketheric Thorm would prove the most bounteous of bodies...
Divination is a skill few can master. The rest of us must simply muddle along, content to view the past with a clarity the future rarely offers.
Halsin, you must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life.
Anything you'd like to pass on to a strapping, love-struck wizard such as myself?
Ah. Well, there's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'.
Not too soon, I hope. I've a craving for a soft bed, a hot bath and a large glass of Arabellan Dry - none of which I've ever found hidden under a log.
City's teem with life. Rats, pigeons, flies - they count no less, for all their more pestilent qualities.
Aha, transfusion! An interesting strategy. Hard to get hold of a god's blood, of course, but if one could...
Did I say interesting? I meant terrible, of course. A terrible strategy...
Quite cruelly, too.
If nothing else, I hope it was a mercifully short one.
She who thirsts buys drinks the first.
She who declines gets the worst of the wines.
It was known to be quite the tipple - a cask or two still exists, if you know the right alekeep...
A common misconception. Even the simplest of flavours are elevated by the choice to appreciate them. Don't deny yourself such pleasures.
It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep.
And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not.
There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale.
Oh, yes - long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still - at least your thirst for knowledge is quenched.
Karlach... a hypothetical question for you:
If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it?
Talking. Right. I'm good at that.
You can read?!
Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep.
Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely.
I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places.
Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay...
You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer.
With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe.
Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us.
No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface.
Ah, so you're susceptible to the tragedy of a broken home. Maybe you've more in common with us weaker beings than you thought...
Time. Or rather: the absence of it. In the Astral Plane, everything is eternal.
Is that so? I assumed there to be little time for frivolity amongst all the fighting.
Not everyone approaches the raising of their young with such militaristic vigour.
That's certainly one way to make them behave...
They're not mutually exclusive. The Weave is served best with a dash of eloquence.
Indeed. More than simple craft, it's a way of life for some of them.
Lae'zel! Was that a joke?
Hardly the worst atrocity the Absolute's committed.
Tell me, Lae'zel, when you say we might be 'purified' at your crèche, what does that mean exactly?
That zaith'isk you mentioned intrigues me. Care to tell me a bit more?
Condoning the slaughter of the weak? Not the most charitable perspective to take.
Indulge me, Lae'zel. As someone unfettered by Faerûnian beauty standards, how would you appraise my appearance?
I suppose that's a bad thing? No - don't answer that.
So, Lae'zel - have you ever been tempted to use psionics in your, erm, romantic endeavours?
Fascinating - I think the archmage Tasha described a spell with similar effect. I really must look that up...
And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel.
The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.
I was wondering about your queen, Vlaakith. What tales of her reach us are terrifying, but I suppose that's not how you would describe her.
Your prowess in battle is remarkable, as is your battle stance itself.
I'll pass, thank you. I prefer Abjuration over acrobatics.
Quite right. So long as the attempt won't leave us similarly dismantled...
Are there no flowers in Tu'narath?
I'd rather get them from my florist in Waterdeep, if it's all the same to you.
Does the Astral Sea come with an equally irritable goddess?
Many a wise man and woman indeed. Waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars.
A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological?
Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same.
Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort.
Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. I'm not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting.
Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in.
So their reputation suggests - especially among the good folk of Waterdeep. I'm curious to learn how you fell foul of them...
Yes, that would probably do it.
I've found love. Surely even you wouldn't begrudge me some happiness.
You're about to say something awful, aren't you?
No signs of tentacles so far.
That I can relate to.
Not at all. Why, some of the finest artists and musicians began their careers amidst stale beer and sticky floors.
There is poetry to be found in even the dingiest of holes.
Everything, really - not to put too fine a point on it.
On occasion.
Merely that if the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirror. No offence taken, I hope?
Tenacity might be a kinder word for it.
You are lucky to have left that anger behind.
Unlikely. Had I stayed there much longer, the orb would have reduced it to rubble. Besides, think of all the fun I'd have missed out on.
Seize the day, I say. More now than ever.
The road to Baldur's Gate is a long one. Who knows how long it'll take these folks to get there on foot?
Doesn't seem to trouble you a jot.
She has no choice - she's sworn to hear all magic users. Even me.
I'm sure she at least stuffs her fingers in her ears to muffle my invocations.
When you've loved a goddess - as I have - people often think you less experienced in the ways of romance.
It's true, for a time I neglected the physical in favour of celestial euphoria. But our relationship was no less real for it.
That expression must sound curious to a githyanki ear, given the way they're birthed.
As did Mystra's home on Elysium. Her ribbed vaults and buttresses created a magic entirely of their own. Not to mention her pleasure domes...
It's a perfectly legitimate architectural feature!
Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient, exceedingly dangerous, and quite unrivalled.
Thank you. Any particular reason?
What can I say? Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.
A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect to find on their racks?
Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is.
A common enough interpretation. Sickness has a nasty habit of making you feel trapped, if only within the confines of your own body.
I once spent weeks convalescing in the Hospice of St Laupsenn after a nasty bout of ruddy pox. For all their kindness, leaving that place behind felt like freedom to me.
All enemies have some chink in their armour, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable. That's what we must find.
Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or, we die nobly in the attempt.
Entirely unnecessary. Though if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration.
Not a devil in sight. How disappointing.
True enough. But an illithid pod? That would probably do the trick.
It's in a devil's nature to conceal the truth - you can't fault yourself for that.
How long have you been pacted to Mizora, Wyll?
I take it you have some suggestions?
Tempting. But I think we might already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.
It's hard to imagine anyone who'd willingly inflict such devastation, be they zealots, marauders, invading armies... A sign of far worse to come, I fear.
Have you noticed any attachments of the more, erm, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll?
I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, 'wizard' is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll?
Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords.
I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended.
We'd be wise to fear the trees themselves. It feels like the forest itself longs for our destruction.
Strange things are happening to us. What festers in our minds may well impel our bodies.
A mind flayer monarch, imagine that. Such a thing could shatter worlds.
|Huh. Turns out, he's immortal. Who'd've thunk?|
I can't believe she wanted to poison us, that she tried to put us down like dying dogs without as much as a whisper of consent!
I can't believe she poisoned you, tried to put you down like a dying dog without as much as a whisper of consent!
Right? She had no right!
Yes - against her will, without rhyme or reason!
A taste of her own medicine is what she deserves!
How dare she snuff out life with as much thought as snuffing out a bloody candle?
Yes. Yes, I am. It's just that, had it been me... Had it been...
But you handled it, and you handled it well!
But it was handled, and it was handled well.
As for myself, I could quite do with a tumbler full of Waterdeep Whiskey.
Anyway. We live. For the moment.
How about we go find that chap Halsin little miss Poison Ivy mentioned? With a bit of luck he has the means to offer us a cure rather than a coffin.
I know. I know you are. And yet... A few moments more, a few different words spoken...
I know. I know we are. And yet... a few moments more, a few different words spoken...
It's not right to feel the cold breath of death in your neck, then move on as if it was nothing but a soothing breeze.
One respects life by fighting for it, and one respects death by fearing it.
Believe it or not, but I witnessed a similar standoff back at the Yawning Portal.
Of course, an establishment like that invites all sorts of outlandish entertainments.
An inn in Waterdeep. Never a dull moment there. Adventurers come from all over Faerûn to try their luck down the well:
Leads into the Undermountain, you see - full of death, danger, and vast amounts of treasure. Hard to resist.
Oh, a drow, a dragonborn, and a cleric of Cyric walk into a bar. Your standard fare.
Maybe someone was cheating at cards, maybe it was some weird lovers' quarrel.
In any case, out came the crossbow, and a hush fell over the entire room.
I stood up and yelled: 'Shadowdark ale for everyone!'
The crowd cheered, the tension drained into five dozen tankards, and soon all was well again.
In a place like the Yawning Portal, the most powerful magic is calling for a round of drinks.
Mind you, all I did was call for ale, but you went and stood in front of that crossbow.
Mind you, all I did was call for ale, but one of ours went and stood in front of that crossbow.
I'd drink to that.
No, no, no. Yours truly defused the situation.
Suit yourself. I was merely going to remark that you handled yourself pretty well.
Suit yourself. I was merely going to remark that we handled ourselves pretty well.
That woman has more venom in her heart than a snake in its fangs, but at least the child is safe.
What is youth if not a time to be forgiven for one's transgressions?
Couldn't agree more. The girl wasn't innocent, but that doesn't mean she was guilty.
Come, let's cut the kid some slack, shall we? She didn't deserve this madcap spectacle as far as I'm concerned.
Ha! And you don't? You're wholly without vice or sin or the occasional lapse in judgement?
No - you don't strike me as quite that boring.
An easy proposition for the Emperor to make - 'become a mind flayer' - it has no soul to sacrifice.
If it did - perhaps it would understand the weight of what it's asking of us. And why we might seek an alternative.
The thought must have crossed your mind? It has certainly weighed on mine.
I know, we've been through this before. But our situation has changed since then, and not for the better.
I think it's time we reconsider the orb.
With its power, I could put an end to this whole thing - Crown, Netherbrain, Absolute. Everything.
If I'm destined to die, I can think of worse ways. At least if I use the orb, I can ensure the brain dies with me.
In a word - yes.
The real question is, do you trust me?
Do not mistake me - I want to live. But I've been careless enough with my life in the past. I can hardly stand by and watch you sacrifice yours.
Once I'm in position, I will ensure you are removed to a safe vantage point to watch the fireworks. You need not die alongside me. Nor surrender your soul in becoming an illithid.
Then I will hold my peace. But if the time comes when even her sacrifice is not enough, call on me, and I will be ready.
If you think it's best, but I hope you're confident in your powers of persuasion. The last thing we need is another enemy to contend with.
Entirely.
Please - at least consider my offer.
Regardless, my offer stands. Should you change your mind, I will not let you down.
I will not let you down.
Very well. We'll do this the old fashioned way then - swords, spells and sweat. Adventurers to the end - whatever form it may take.
I like the sound of that.
Just because we do not like the alternative, does not mean we are not free to choose our course.
He is the prince of a people who've spent aeons nursing a hatred of the very creature nestled in our skulls.
Save him, and who's to say he wouldn't run us through at the first opportunity?
To cure me of the orb, yes. But what of the guilt of allowing one of my friends to sacrifice their very soul and become illithid?
Or worse, trusting a mind flayer to wield the stones, and giving it the chance to dominate a Netherbrain?
Barely woken from his slumber, and already the prince of the githyanki demands one of us surrender our souls in service of him.
Make the best decision you can - that's all anyone could ask of you. I will stand by your side regardless.
No doubt, in the context of aeons of torture, it seems a small ask. But, of course, he does not realise what else we might have to offer.
|I'll be straight with you, If I am to have any chance of getting my hands on that crown then my best my best option is to take the stones and transform.|
|It's a big risk, I'm well aware, but it's even a greater risk to lose that crown if anything were to happen.|
|It's not ideal, but the way I see it we kill two birds with one stone. You get to keep your teeth, and I get some assurance in acquiring the crown.|
|I know Karlach has the best intentions, but her kind heart is not going to help me get that crown. Let me do this.|
|We have a world to save, and I'm the only one here to have something to gain from the transformation.|
|You convinced me how important it is, and nothing important is ever easy.|
|So keep your face looking pretty as it should, and let me take this one for the team.|
|You won't regret it.|
|Let's go save the world.|
|You know what's best. I can't say I'm not saddened, but we wouldn't have gotten this far without you.|
|And who knows, maybe being a mind flayer won't be so bad.|
|After everything and you still trust it. You may see something I don't, but that does not mean you see it none the less.|
|We do, though were not very nice to his friends the last time we were here.|
|But till the pin drops, there is always oppertunity for change. Keep me in mind, whichever choice you make.|
|The two are not mutually exclusive. If someone has to change, it would be a shame to place that burden on you for me to swoop in take the reward.|
|This also keeps you out of harms way. If I keep listing the benifits I'll run out of birds to kill with my one stone.|
|When we speak of our 'best' option, we're not choosing between caviar and foie gras.|
|All our options are not great, but that doesn't mean we should consider these choices with any less gravitas.|
Sorry, but I'm spoken for.
Curious artefact, isn't it? Ancient, beguiling, cryptic - the ABCs of mystery.
A box that simply refuses to be toyed with. Happens to the best of us.
Looks like that box has taken a shine to you. So unconditional, isn't it, the affection of inanimate objects?
The artefact claims a new owner. So much for mourning the last one.
Persistent, isn't it? Looks like you made a new friend for life.
On my way.
To the rescue.
With haste.
Without delay.
Let's get you on your feet.
At once.
No time to lose.
Willing and able.
Oh dear.
Where are my smelling salts?
Quickly now.
Help's on the way.
On it.
Won't know what hit 'em.
On the double.
Mine is the advantage.
Their worst nightmare.
I strike with precision.
With glee.
Nemesis.
A spell a day...
Danse macabre.
On my honour.
Into the fray.
While the iron is hot.
The lesson is death.
Checkmate.
One by one.
My turn.
What a waste.
I have power enough to share - if I must.
One touch of magic coming up.
I'm indispensible, aren't I?
There's always one.
Not this again.
In trouble? Small wonder.
A waste of my talents.
If I must.
How tedious.
How bothersome.
Don't fret, I'm on my way.
Yes, yes.
Fine.
No other choice, I suppose.
I have your back.
Mystra soothes all pain.
A little help from a friend.
You can count on me.
Allow me.
The light of life.
Never fear.
My bedside manner is beyond reproach.
Let them do their worst.
Keep up! There's still a battle to be won.
A word.
Up for debate.
I can do that.
Let's chat.
Certainly.
My pleasure.
With silver tongue.
By all means.
A little discourse.
Let us confer.
Yes, of course.
Creator. Destroyer.
A battle of wits.
Swords, meet sorcery!
One can't always be a gentleman.
No gloom, all doom.
Death is but a word away.
What fools these mortals be.
Victory is assured.
The lanceboard is set.
May the dice roll in my favour.
Mystra-Ryl!
Allow me to demonstrate.
I don't fancy their chances.
The witching hour.
A tale for the ages.
Unleash me.
I speak. They burn.
Gone with the Weave.
Let me recite their demise.
A rough tempest I will raise.
It shall be done.
With ease.
Onward.
May it please Mystra.
Of course.
Step by step.
Indeed.
Outflank. Outsmart.
Swiftly now.
Don't get too close.
In striking distance.
Let's light them up.
Step to it.
Good move.
Rook to queen six.
Knight to king five.
Pawn to cleric four.
I have power enough to share.
An essential incantation.
Use it wisely.
A little pick-me-up.
Let me make myself indispensable.
Give them nine hells.
Let's put on a show.
They won't see this coming.
Woe upon the unsuspecting.
I feel apologetic already.
Nimble fingers; ill intent.
Wealth is to be shared, I suppose.
How rude.
Your wish is my regret.
If I really must.
I was raised better than this.
This should give me an edge.
No advantage is unfair.
How opportune.
Don't mind if I do.
Deadlier than ever.
Let's tip the scales.
My best is yours.
Hand in hand.
Make me proud.
Together as one.
A token of my appreciation.
Go on - excel.
Let's give this a try.
Easy enough.
Not a problem.
Might as well.
Consider it done.
A heart-to-heart.
Our very souls do echo.
A word, my dear.
Some pillow talk.
More than just lip service.
Gladly.
That was close.
A lucky gamble.
Now let's get back into the fight.
I could have struck a blow instead.
My, I actually did it.
Like a ghost.
I won't fail you.
Your knight in magic armour.
Hang in there, dearest.
Take heart, I'm here for you.
Let's remedy that, shall we?
I suppose some help is in order.
There's always one...
Aren't we precious...
Pearls before swine.
If you insist.
Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails.
Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you.
Get. Out. Of. My. Head.
I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.
Two left hands, I see.
Did they see me?
On cat's paws.
A silent spell.
The whispered Weave.
There goes my equilibrium.
An invisibility spell works too, you know.
I will be but an illusion.
I'll keep my doubts to myself...
O, to cast on bended knee.
Must I?
I perform better on my feet.
This has to be frowned upon.
Let's take a gander.
Colour me curious.
Let's have a peek inside.
Curiosity must be satisfied.
In for a surprise.
Could be interesting.
Yes, why not.
All right.
I should be concentrating on the enemy.
Now?
This is hardly the time.
Steady...
Give me some cover.
Surely there's a spell for this sort of thing.
Knock, knock.
I don't think this is strictly legal.
The right tools for the wrong trade.
Forthwith.
Most excellent.
Adventure awaits.
The path less travelled.
To new horizons.
Let's explore.
That way?
Right away.
Yes.
Let's go.
Immediately.
I venture forth.
What have we here?
Interesting.
My, my.
Could be useful.
This will come in handy.
Mine for the taking.
Good find.
Let's get this over with.
I'd rather not.
Ever a dull moment.
Words fail me.
Cantankerousness ahead.
Oh, bother.
My life for yours.
I will keep you safe.
Let me take away the pain.
I've got you.
Take me by the hand.
A rather sticky situation.
No obstacle too great.
I'll take care of that.
A spot of bother.
Good show.
With diligence and care.
Indubitably.
Such a long way down.
The coward's route.
It's a gnome's life for me.
My robes will get dirty.
Unseen and unsightly.
You've got the wrong man for this.
Brought low.
No honour among sneaks.
It will be my pleasure.
This should do you some good.
Easy - and effective.
This really isn't my forte.
My knees are starting to ache.
Such an undignified position to find oneself in.
I'm a wizard, not a cat burglar.
I'd rather stand tall.
What?
Get me up, would you?
Intolerable.
This is no fun at all.
I can't see a thing from down here.
Why am I doing this?
Just hurry this along.
How unseemly.
How much longer will this take?
Bad for one's back, this.
I'm surprised you spotted me.
One with the Weave.
We're a long way from Waterdeep.
The air is ripe with magic.
Lovely day, this. For now.
Which way to the nearest library?
I applaud your taste.
Lost in thought.
Quite ready for you.
I have the magic touch.
Elminster's not around, so might as well.
You have my attention.
Seek and you shall find me.
Direct me.
Salutations!
No rest for the wicked, I see.
Let me work my magic.
Charmed, I'm sure.
An excellent choice!
At the ready.
Ready and willing.
Your desire?
What if they see me?
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Not a sound.
A friendly consultation.
You made me hide, don't make me come seek you.
Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room.
A little privacy please.
Stop it - that tickles.
Let's hope there's smokepowder inside.
Watch my back while I take a look.
Good move. Maybe.
Curiosity trumps combat then.
Cover me.
A quick peek will have to do.
Perhaps not the best use of my time.
I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away.
Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road.
Oh, what a tangled Weave we web!
All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.
Surprise, surprise.
Yes, lovely.
Please - time is of the essence!
If you'd be so kind!
I'm in a spot of bother here!
Quickly - don't let me down!
Downed and soon to be out!
For all our sakes - help me up!
A hand!
A little help!
Almost worth the subterfuge.
Ill-gotten gains are still gains.
Some possessions are naught but a burden.
I'll just keep this safe.
A pretty bauble.
That was easy.
Pretty.
Guess it's mine now.
I don't like that I'm so good at this.
Might fetch a copper or two.
A little keepsake.
I really shouldn't have.

 It appears the parasite has bestowed on us the ability to influence others.
 An interesting power. One that warrants further investigation.
 Such powers of manipulation could prove useful. And if it makes our enemies more malleable, all the better.
 The principle holds, but the practice should be handled carefully.
 Mystra would disapprove of this illithid power. We should avoid using the tadpoles - however tempting.
 A wise choice, under the circumstances.
 We'd be foolish to do anything with these tadpoles until we understand them better. Caution is key.
 An astute approach. I'm glad we're of one mind.
 A little caution may be advised. The power may prove valuable, or it might not. We simply don't know.
 Influence, yes - but for better or worse? Until we know, I recommend a cautious approach.
 An interesting power, indeed. But one that warrants further investigation.
 An astute approach.
 |Oh wow. Myconids rise dead as spore servants. So much power|
 |Oh, come on! You'd be a great asset!|
 |Indeed!|
 |I am glad you chose the sensible path |
 |It is an absolute tragedy that such power is so evil|
 |Necromancy is abhorrent but I'm in awe of its power|
 |It is an absolute tragedy that such power is so evil. Necromancy is abhorrent but I'm in awe of its power|
 |Two power of it is unthinkable|
 |Either way, what do you think of it?|
 |True, it is indeed awe-inspiring|
 |Yeah, I'm worried about it too|
 |I'm glad you can see my point|
 |Ah, fair enough|
 |Interesting how our perspectives differ|
 |Well, necromancy is looked down upon in most cultures|
 |well, I don't care that much about it since I'd be dead|
 By the gods themselves, what kind of nightmare is this?
 You're the one who cried out for us. You must have seen something.
 And there you stand, covered in blood, with no idea how it happened?
 I'm going to say something I'm confident we're all thinking. Was this your doing?
 I think that's quite bloody obvious. But why?
 You 'think' you killed her? You will need to do a lot better than that.
 This is not beyond the remit of what the parasite might command.
 If the parasite is truly to blame, we must be more vigilant than ever and hope this affliction spreads no further. I'm keeping my eye on you.
 I suppose I'll set up a few more magical wards around the camp - this dagger-on-sight praxis isn't the most secure of strategies...
 You were in fear of your life at the hands of this unarmed bard?
 No boar pursues its prey with such savagery. This was the work of animal, but of a very different nature.
 An animal indeed, to inflict so many cruelties on such an innocent.
 I'm going to make the obvious point that you are covered in blood, friend. Point the finger where you will, but you're the one we've caught red-handed.
 Eugh, the puzzle is coming together... I can just picture it.
 Astarion has his many faults, but he's certainly not wasteful. If this was his kill, he'd have cleaned up the mess.
 What do you mean, you don't remember? It just happened!
 Amnesia? A side effect of illithid infection, perhaps? Though I've never seen it recorded as a symptom...
 And what comes next? Clearly you can't be trusted.
 As tempting a proposition as that is, our fortunes remain intertwined so long as we're still infected. We've no choice but to stick together.
 You and I have very different definitions of right and wrong.
 Good. You're still capable of showing that much sense, at least.
 That's... it? She annoyed you? If that was just cause for killing someone, I'd be dead a thousand times over. Tell me the truth.
 Oh, so you were doing her a favour? Well, I'm sure she's very grateful.
 No boar pursues its prey with such unrelenting cruelty. This was the work of an animal, but of a very different nature.
 By the gods, what horror is this? Who would silence the bard so savagely?
 More importantly, why are you soaked in her blood? It's clearly not your own.
 So what exactly are we supposed to do about it? We've enough enemies outside of our camp. We hardly need one within it.
 Best not to make promises you can't keep. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but that's all I have to offer.
 No boar pursues its prey with such savagery. This was the work of an animal, but of a very different nature.
 How many more of us must we find dead at your feet? You've tainted this camp long enough.
 You dare call this beautiful? Your vile art dies with you, then.
 What vile madness is this? If you would make light of this butchery... you are a monster. And I will not suffer you to live.
 What madness is this? If you would make light of this butchery... you are a monster. And I will not suffer you to live.
 Surely not... Could I have missed some of the signs?
 Your vigilance may have saved us, but its consequences are no easier to stomach for that. Gods, what a pity.
 What in the name of - what have you done?
 I know a little, but it's hard to separate the fact from the fiction.
 Tell Wyll the story of your orb. Leave nothing out.
 Well, this is a novel use for familiars.
 I suppose teleportation is beyond Scratch.
 I should probably fetch Scratch from the post house.
 I'm just playing fetch with myself unless I go back for Scratch...
 Might as well throw the damn thing at the post house...
 You were an excellent friend, Scratch - and that's coming from a cat-lover.
 I hope there's balls and bones galore, wherever you are...
 Poor Scratch. I'm lucky to have met you.
 I hope Scratch doesn't miss his ball, wherever he is...
 Poor pooch is worn out.
 Better let Scratch rest up.
 The ballplay can wait, I suppose.
 Hmm. I suppose Scratch has had enough fun and games for now.
 I'd consider it. I could achieve great things with another lifetime or ten...
 I didn't realise you had a fear of wolves, Shadowheart. Understandable, I suppose.
 There's an air about that sword - like a soft mist. Powerful Weave to be sure.
 We're down one vampire. Did the hunter take him?
 It certainly seems that way.
 A shame, but can't be helped.
 We seem to be missing a person. Where's Astarion?
 His loyalty was as fickle as his temper apparently. Vanished without a word.
 I cast my first spell whilst still a babe. My mother took an awful fright when I conjured up a score of rabbits in the pantry.
 My future's no more certain than your own. But when I dare to imagine having one, it's always you I see beside me.
 So, a vampire walks among us? Of course, I had my suspicions...
 We've been travelling with a godsdamned vampire?
 I've always been curious to meet one. Though preferably not fangs-first...
 One that's happy to use his fangs, it seems.
 Not sure I like the sound of 'mostly'...
 All right, but we're keeping our eyes on you.
 Have fun gorging yourself on my neck, Astarion?
 What in the hells, Astarion? You tried to bite me last night!
 A vampire in our midsts this whole time? Of course, I had my suspicions...
 We've been travelling with a vampire - one that feeds on his friends.
 Did you just bite me, Astarion? I knew it - you're a bloody vampire!
 You bit me? You're a godsdamned vampire!
 So, Astarion. When exactly are you planning to tell us you're a vampire?
 Astarion, we need to talk. We know you're a vampire.
 Yes, not exactly subtle about it are you? A sanguine companion in every sense of the word.
 It's a little obvious, frankly.
 It needn't - so long as you understand my neck is very much off the menu.
 It doesn't. We're an odd team, but we are a team.
 So, Astarion. When exactly were you planning to tell me you're a vampire?
 Astarion, we need to talk. I know you're a vampire - it's kind of obvious.
 I've always been curious to meet a vampire, you know? Though preferably not fangs-first...
 So, I've been travelling with a vampire? One that feeds on his friends, no less.
 What in the hells, Astarion? You bit me!
 A vampire? I knew it. It was the teeth - total giveaway.
 We've been travelling with a vampire this whole time?
 If you were trying to hide the fact you're a vampire, Astarion, I'm afraid that nibble on my neck was a dead giveaway.
 You're a vampire! I can't believe I trusted you - let you share my camp.
 Good, because even my open mind has limits. You won't like what happens if you cross them.
 Good, because next time there will be consequences.
 So, we've been travelling with a godsdamned vampire?
 One that feeds on his friends, no less.
 Fine. But next time you're after a midnight snack, consider me off the menu.
 If you say so, but I'll be watching you.
 I've been travelling with a godsdamned vampire? You'd better keep those fangs to yourself.
 So, all it takes to lift the Archive's dome is a few magic words. Excellent. I'm rather good at those.
 Magic words? I'm rather good at those. Time to find the Archive, and see what speaking them reveals.
 Avernus, in all its bloody glory. Best viewed from the safety of this balcony, I think. Relative safety, anyway.
 The Emperor is silenced here. Peace at last.
 Luskan. The City of Sails, wrecked by the Spellplague. Now best avoided.
 This pillar... there's something unsettling about it. And it's not Raphael's poor taste in architecture.
 Devil's magic bristles within this pillar. A power not meant for mortal casters.
 Sinister chanting, blood-stains, and the unmistakable stench of rotted kelp. Gods, I hate Umberlee.
 The true name of Gond? That would be 'Nebelun', if you'll pardon my gnomish.
 Gond's true name... Gah, it's on the tip of my tongue...
 Done! Easy as anything.
 I think... I think it's safe.
 Disarmed. A little less of a cheek-clencher once you've done it already.
 None would relish such a fate, nor return from it. A dark day indeed.
 It appears Orin's sent us a message. What glad tidings will she have to offer?
 Another letter from Orin. How is she getting so close to us?
 Orin sends us more of her scratchings. What does our epistolary enemy have to say now?
 Sahuagin? They wouldn't normally wade ashore in search of a fight...
 More of those sea devils. But why are they here? Something must have lured them...
 Hells, what were those things? As pungent as they are vicious.
 I've got to hand it to me - I managed that rather well.
 The gloves are off, I see.
 Mystra's likeness... It's been some time since I stood before her in a place like this...
 A list of names... Father Lorgan's on here, crossed off. A kill list, perhaps.
 A list of names, with some struck through.
 Bloody, red, ghostly - and enraging the others. When the abomination falls, so will the rest.
 Vengeful husks - just shadows of shadows without Bhaal's rage to fill them.
 Hells - that spell could strike down a full-grown dragon. Focus the undead!
 That's one way to silence your critics.
 I've heard of paintings bringing things to life, but this is ridiculous.
 So you're the great wizard Lorroakan? I see your reputation is well earned...
 You stand in the presence of Gale of Waterdeep, Lorroakan. Mind your tongue.
 You must be the wizard Lorroakan. I've heard a great deal about you.
 A fake devil head? How darling.
 This head's had quite a journey - a devil of the Fugue Plane, I believe.
 Ah, the rattle of gold coins. This place must turn a reasonable profit.
 His necromancy is shattered at last. He'll not trouble this plane again.
 Some necromantic magic still lingers, as does Carrion. His hold on this plane is not yet broken.
 'Mystic Carrion.' That miserable pile of bandages gave rotten meat a bad name.
 So, Carrion has a secret lair in the bowels of the city. What mischief does he pursue there?
 Hmm. This must where Shadowheart sought respite from her training.
 Seems like someone made a little hidden reading nook for themselves. I approve.
 A tainted vintage. Some kind of paralytic poison has been added.
 The same wine, the same paralysing poison...
 Hmm. Rather cosy, actually, as pocket planes go.
 M Kurwin... Why, that's the name mentioned on a note the dead courier had, all that time ago. Buried riches, I think...
 I don't even want to think what gory applications these tools have...
 A Githyanki text. Reading material ahead of the Sharran's hunt for the Astral Prism, no doubt.
 Named after wizards. There's Ramazith, Elminster, Silverhand... and Karsus. The Annals must be behind his door.
 Named after wizards - Ramazith, Elminster, Silverhand and... Karsus. What secrets of Netheril might lie behind his door, I wonder...
 Quite the feat of magical engineering. Sorcerous Sundries likes to keep its secrets well hidden.
 Such necrotic power... I'd swear it made my heart stop for a moment.
 No ordinary protection. I swear I felt my heart stop for a moment.
 I know what it is to be tempted by power. Don't repeat my mistakes.
 Come now, Rolan. If a wizard wants power, they have to take it.
 Reconsider your position, Lorroakan. Nothing can hold the daughter of Selûne in perpetuity.
 Whatever door this key opens, it's a heavy one. One in the Counting House's vaults, perhaps.
 Imprisoned for want of a key. How apt.
 The tower's defences are powerless now. Quite literally.
 That was... underwhelming.
 We should act with extreme caution. Kill the hag, and the child dies with her.
 Time to give that hag everything she deserves.
 Could this be behind the curse? Better find a way to reverse its effects...
 What an ugly doll. I'd only give this to a child I didn't like.
 The source of the curse, no doubt. Now to find a way to reverse its effects...
 The ring's inscription is familiar... That ancient door bore similar glyphs. If only I understood it.
 A strange inscription on this ring. The same ancient glyphs as that book we found earlier.
 A strange inscription on this ring... Some ancient language, no doubt, though not one I can read.
 The noblest scion of the Flymm dynasty. I'm sure Gortash displays his parents' image just as proudly.
 A portrait of Gortash. Can't say I'd want him watching me eat my supper, but each to their own.
 A real fiend's skull. Judging by the size... a ghargatula?
 A replica devil skull. A little large for most parlours, I think.
 Nearly had my eye out. Who, or what, threw that?
 No ordinary easel. There's a mechanism attached, if I'm not mistaken.
 The psionic detector's been set off. In a tavern? What would the gith want here?
 A spell like that couldn't keep a twig blight at bay.
 Excellent. This couldn't have gone better.
 Aylin will soon knock Lorroakan off his perch. Better follow - this could be over quickly.
 Too trusting for her own good. Dame Aylin's Lorroakan's for the taking now.
 No ordinary jewels. Such unusual craftsmanship...
 No ordinary jewels. From the elven court of Suldanessellar, I believe. Curious to find them here.
 The Emperor was clear. Nothing but death waits ahead.
 That scent - this wine is poisoned.
 Unusual bottle... and an even more unusual scent. People pay to drink this?
 No ordinary mirror. It does not reflect, but consumes. How many have fallen prey to its darkness?
 This mirror dates from the times of Gorothir, a netherese Sharran of foul repute. A portal onto the Shadowfell itself.
 Of course this place is rigged. Now to find out the manner of our imminent demise.
 Impressive-looking gem... but surely a fake.
 Infernal gems, straight from Minauros. Rare, to say the least.
 No ordinary collector would have such jewels. This is a diabolist's treasure.
 'Only a Patriar's Loss can open this door.'
 Curious... a wealthy person's loss? The loss of valuables, surely.
 | Cazador's tastes run to the lurid and theatrical, don't they? Not my style. |
 Something behind those supplies - looks like an opening.
 Kozakuran, if I'm not mistaken. The same language inscribed on the ballroom door.
 Looks like a dictionary perhaps? Though this ancient tongue has long fallen silent.
 Kozakuran, if I'm not mistaken. Just like on Szarr's ring.
 A painting like that would fetch a fortune in Waterdeep. Or Baldur's Gate, for that matter.
 Lorroakan keeps his treasures well warded. Cut off the power to the wards, and these trinkets would be there for the taking...
 A cut rate wizard like Lorroakan shouldn't have such treasures. Better they sit in the pockets of a superior wizard.
 The horns of a war devil. How does one even acquire such an item?
 No ordinary curio. Such an item would only be found in the collection of a true diabolist.
 Even if these horns are forgeries, they're mightily impressive forgeries.
 There is no one else I'd trust to wield such power.
 I'll take a friend over the Emperor any day - even if said friend is sprouting tentacles.
  |I've been fighting the illithid powers ever since I was infected. I'm not about to embrace them and become a mind flayer.|
  |I don't trust that mind flayer one bit, but something has to be done.|
 |It burns me to say it, but I'd trust you far more as a mind flayer than the Emperor weilding the stones.|
 |But we also have the Orphic hammer. We can free Orpheus, and I'm sure he would have a better solution.|
 |There is no one else more capable. We are lucky to have another shot at this, and failure is not an option.|
 |But we should consider all our options carefully.|
 |I would trust you more with the stones, but it must be getting something out of this for it to so willingly offer this solution.|
 |Then we very well may be trading one foul beast for another. Those stones have great power, and I'm sure the Emperor would twist it as much as it twists its words.|
 |Indeed, if he decideds to not cut us down for what happened back at intermezzo.|
 |I trust you'll make the right choice.|
 I'm far from thrilled, but what if the Emperor is right? What if this sacrifice is the only way?
 Let's not make this decision in haste. What other options are there?
 If squabbling could save the world, we'd be vaunted as heroes already. You are the only one who can make this choice. We would never have made it this far without you.
 Why hesitate, if her heart is set?
 Too much of what that mind flayer's intends remains a mystery to us.
 I dearly hope you know what you're doing.
 In the absence of any better idea, I believe she is our best chance.
 If you are sure this is the right course...
 The end is almost in reach. If this is the course we're to take, so be it. I stand with you.
 If no option appeals, well... all we can do is choose the least wicked amongst them.
 |For it to willingly offer us control of the stones, there must be more to this.|
 A little less bickering and a little more Emperor-slaying will stand to us all. Why trust him when he's already failed us once before?
 And surrender control over the brain to it? To call that short-sighted seems a gross understatement.
 Give it what it desires, and none of us need to give in to ceremorphosis...
 Just yield all control over the most powerful being in Faerûn? That's obscene.
 A moment spent gathering our thoughts would be a worthy investment. Let's consider our options, shall we?
 Certainty is a luxury just now, but he seems to be our best chance.
 I sincerely hope we made the right choice.
 As long as we do something - inaction is a surefire way to doom us all.
 The Orphic Hammer was a costly prize. We should at least consider making use of it.
 What else can we do? Take its head?
 Do as you please, but let me be clear - I am not becoming a mind flayer.
 I've been pursuing a cure ever since that cursed beast was slotted behind my eyeball. I'm not about to just give in to ceremorphosis now.
 Draw on the power of the Weave and try again. You will not let the Crown slip from your grasp.
 Back to Waterdeep. I've a warm fire and a long-neglected reading list to get through.
 Stay the course - we can do this as long as the spell is completed!
 Stay here and we'll be swarmed. We must keep going, find a way through!
 There's no end to them! This is futile - we need to move!
 The brain... it's inside my head... sapping my thoughts...
 |Well, that didn't work.|
 |Best to make such decisions after thorough research.|
 |Then we'll need to make our next move carefully. While my option is available, I'm not eager to using it if it can be avoided.|
 Shoot Gale a meaningful glance.
 Trust me - unleashing the orb is not something I want to do, but if there's no other way...
 ...well, I shan't hesitate. We cannot allow this thing to prevail.
 We have another option - the orb. I could still put a stop to this... though at great cost.
 The Emperor will no doubt seek to pour honey in our ears - talk us round to it's way of thinking. It would be remiss of me to not remind all that there is another way...
 ... the orb. I still have the means to unleash its power, and put a stop to all this from one heartbeat to the next. But it would not be without cost. The city, and all who remain, would be lost.
 |At least we're not dead.|
 |Then that will not leave us with many options left. Measure twice, cut once.|
 Look at Gale, look down to his chest.
 As keen as I am to survive, the option remains - and we have vanishingly few others. I daresay none.
 We may cling to hope a while longer if you wish, but should that fail us, I'll be ready to act.
 |Nothing like a good one-two with a blunt object to shift negotiations, though it doesn't seem like the type to appreciate such crude methods.|
 The end is nigh, one way or another, and our options are dwindling in both quantity and quality.
 Honestly? I think putting trust in anyone but ourselves is foolhardy at this stage. One way or another, I think we amount to the best chance of stopping this.
 A githyanki who might turn on us for being infected? That is not someone I'm eager to pin my hopes on.
 Present company excluded of course - but the point remains. We cannot afford to trust your kin will react well to us.
 The orb is not a choice that I relish... but it is not one we can afford to ignore.
 Hear him out if you wish - but please, don't act in haste.
 Of course - I've had ample time to think on it. We may yet prevail by other means... but the option remains. And I shall not hesitate, if called upon.
 If that is your wish, so be it... but the orb remains an option. And I shall not hesitate, if called upon.
 |But we're nut dead, so that means the show isn't over.|
 |Easier said than done.|
 |Hope wasn't very effective, given we're now here.|
 |So we're going to need to place our pieces on the board, so to speak.|
 |At least he seems to enjoy chatting more than brain eating.|
 |Fair enough, lead the way.|
 |Always good to be flexible.|
 I'm not eager to unleash the orb - but if no other option presents itself...
 |I don't know about you, but I wouldn't be so pleased being woken up after an eternity of prison time.|
 My skull... My mind... Feels like it's being carved open...
 That was worse than anything it's done before. It's strength is unimaginable.
 Such unrelenting power. Is that what we're up against?
 If it can strike us like that, we're close. Almost close enough to strike back.
 Counsellor Florrick - Baldur's Gate requires your protection once more.
 Lose the Netherstones, we lose everything. So - pick them up please.
 I'd pick those Netherstones back up if I were you. I don't fancy our chances without them.
 Get to the brain - act now or we're all doomed!
 The lesser foes are a distraction - dominating the brain is what matters.
 Get to the Crown and cast the spell - I'll buy you what time I can!
 Time is running short - seize control of the brain, now!
 I'm not sure what I was expecting, but whatever that was, it was worse.
 No sense dwelling on it. We made our choice, and will live with the nightmares.
 So be it. But when the Grand Design is ended, I need the stones back.
 That will not be necessary. I can destroy the brain with a single spell - though it would kill me too.
 The mad monk's passed on at last. At least he went with a smile on his face.
 He's finally at peace. Doubtful the same can be said for whoever's waiting on the other side...
 An invitation from Gortash himself. Looks like finding him won't be so difficult after all...
 So, Gortash knows we're on our way. Kind of him to open the door for us, at least.
 Balduran and his scaly comrade gazing on their creation - Baldur's Gate.
 A fine piece - a dragon and elf surveying the city of Baldur's Gate.
 Balduran sets sail and leaves the dragon to guarding the city.
 The elf is seabound, the dragon stays with Baldur's Gate.
 A doppelganger? I'm all for believing people can change, but that's ridiculous.
 Another shapeshifter who won't be getting an encore.
 Hells, are those... tremors?
 It felt like a quake fit to topple Ramazith's Tower.
 Each corpse placed with such precision. Much ill-spent care was taken to create this abomination.
 A grotesque spectacle. What mind would take pleasure from this?
 Head hacked clean off and made to watch. A twisted vision.
 The bodies are treated as characters, not corpses. What story are they telling?
 Each figure alike in its pose, unique in its horrors.
 A murderer with artistic ambitions. Can't say I appreciate their body of work.
 These must be the people Father Lorgan was trying to help.
 The only way a priest could help them now is with burial rites.
 Looks like these people were trying to hide.
 Their efforts weren't enough though. And they paid a harsh price.
 Finally! Time to make that djinni sore instead...
 If that damned thing could just slow down a moment...
 The Netherese Orb?
 So, the fabled Ansur is to be found beneath the flagstones of Wyrm's Rock Prison. I've a spark or two up my sleeve - could that be enough to light the way?
 A poetic image indeed - the fabled Ansur, slumbering beneath the city he once protected. Though obscured by the sands of time, such a legend may yet carry a grain of truth.
 Looks like Father Lorgan's aid couldn't save them.
 Looks like they were trying to hide - to no avail.
 The mind flayer is gone. That doesn't bode well...
 The toys from the barn - this must be where they were crafted.
 The owner of this place, the toymaker. He's packing explosive's into children's playthings.
 Whoever lives here has dangerous hobbies. These toys can't ever reach childrens' hands.
 Planting explosives in toys? Is Arfur intent on maiming children?
 Arfur's got some curious hobbies. Better see if he donated any toys lately...
 Already gone. What will the amulet make of this...
 This is the one. Time for a reunion.
 Hmm. Not quite child-ready, are you?
 Unfinished toys, like the ones from the barn. Better stay on guard.
 Feathers of the common pigeon variety. Formerly attached to one of the postmaster's flock, I'd guess.
 The abandoned plumage of some Baldurian bird or other. Whatever dropped these is long gone.
 Feathers of the common pigeon variety. Alas, nothing left of the common pigeon they were attached to.
 Freshly-spilled blood. A recent decapitation if I ever saw one.
 Head's missing. Safe to assume foul play?
 These must be the secret tunnels Lorgan was using. His name is here - someone was watching him.
 Tunnels beneath the Open Hand Temple, and a name - 'Father Lorgan'. Works here, perhaps?
 Tunnels beneath the Open Hand Temple - and a dead priest's name here. Not suspicious at all...
 This map... shapeshifters' locations, Father Lorgan's name... The killer was here.
 Tunnels beneath the Open Hand Temple. Why is 'Father Lorgan' scribbled on top?
 An elf seafarer alongside a bronze dragon. Quite a pair.
 An elf seafarer alongside a dragon. Quite a pair.
 I could wipe them all out in an instant, if I wished. But I do not.
 I've passed through, but my heart lies elsewhere in Faerûn.
 I've passed through, but I'm a Waterdeep man at heart.
 The ground's shaking again - what's causing it?
 She toys with us like a tressym with a pigeon. But to what end?
 So, Orin's a shapeshifter. That should make things interesting.
 So falls the dragon Ansur.
 Why does it feel like he's not truly gone? Is his spirit still tied to that helm?
 Where am I? Are those  dinosaurs? Not a predator I'm keen to study up close...
 Orin isn't the only shape-shifter we need to be wary of. How many doppelgangers has she called to Bhaal's bloody purpose?
 Doppelgangers abroad in the city? As if we didn't have problems enough.
 Can't anyone just be themselves in this blasted city? These Bhaalists have more faces than a tridrone's timepiece.
 Hells, more tremors.
 One of Dribbles' limbs. I always knew clowns were 'armless.
 Dribbles' foot. His oversized shoes did little to prevent it sweating - that's quite the stench.
 Dribbles' head, severed at the neck. No covering that up with face-paint.
 That's every piece of him. Time to take this sorry jigsaw to the ringmaster.
 Not quite the full clown. One piece missing, by my count.
 A gaudy display - his killer has a flair for the dramatic. I doubt this is their only masterpiece.
 Ugh. Well, that's a start, but we need the whole clown before we return to the Ringmaster.
 Dribbles' leg, still bearing scraps of tattered fabric. Once bright and jovial, now bloody and joyless.
 A clown's bloody torso. No more belly laughs for Dribbles.
 Gods, even Dribbles' pelvis was severed. His jokes can't have been that bad...
 White paint and blood on the finger tips? This must be Dribbles' hand.
 A clown's severed head? I'm no expert on circuses, but I can't imagine them getting a lot of laughs out of that...
 Entrails on display? This circus doesn't think much of its customers, does it?
 Perhaps these are the tampered toys that letter spoke of?
 Adorable. Perhaps Tara would like one.
 |There's a space behind that wall...|
 |This prison is a bit a dysmal. And boring.|
 Some rather diminutive footprints heading towards that cavern...
 I can't help but feel like I'm missing something...
 Follow the pigeon entrails, find the postmaster's letters. Gods, from arch mage to this...
 Blood and feathers, leading towards the Open Hand Temple...
 Ugh, pigeon blood. Careful - it's a nightmare to wash out.
 Vanished. Strange, is that sulphur I smell?
 Gone, leaving only the stench of eggs behind her. Just like my Aunt Gilda.
 A cheap disappearing act. I'm growing rather tired of it.
 Wonder who abandoned it. And why?
 Seems a watertight vessel to me, though I'm no shipwright.
 Another of those strange disks. Perhaps Lae'zel can shed some light on their meaning.
 A second githyanki disc. Lae'zel will want to see this.
 A third disc. What might this one have to tell us of Orpheus?
 A githyanki disc, covered in writing, perhaps? Lae'zel might be able to decode it.
 Another githyanki disc. Another tale of the githyanki's lost prince?
 A doppelganger? What devious trick was it trying to pull?
 No, no - that's all yours. I insist.
 I can't risk destabilising the orb. It can't be me.
 Lae'zel! You can't die like this...
 No, not you!
 Shadowheart! Anyone but her!
 Don't give up, Karlach. Please...
 Now's no time to die. You must get up!
 No, not Jaheira!
 No, Gale!
 Gale!
 Gale, no!
 Gale! This isn't the end!
 Gale! Come on, magic man, hang on!
 Gale - no!
 The wizard has fallen. Typical.
 No, wizard! You have so many more lectures for Boo to sleep through!
 Wyll! Please - stay with me.
 Don't worry, Minthara. Gale won't let you down.
 Minsc? Boo?
 Astarion!
 Halsin, no!
 What in the name of Azuth is that? A monster in a flask?
 Out of the flask and from the looks of it still into the frying pan. There's murder in those eyes.
 That slippery little parasite is important. We mustn't lose it.
 This is not time to drop the tadpole. We need it - however vile it may be.
 It's decided - let's leave it at that.
 Sorry, but I'm spoken for.
 Alien flora of some kind. From the Astral Plane, perhaps?
 Botanical samples. Why would a mindflayer study such things?
 A pity this pool wasn't destroyed, and its occupants with it.
 Brimming with parasites. I dread to think how many these could infect...
 Incinerated.
 Another who didn't survive.
 Burned alive. What a bleak end.
 Are those... brains?
 I've heard mind flayers feast on the brains of their victims. Apparently they like them pickled, too.
 Devils. Either this ship has an impressive menagerie, or I'm in the Hells...
 Well that's... something.
 And what might this contraption do...?
 There's a sight. Is there an abductee in every one of those...?
 Yet another brain. I may never look at a pickle jar the same way again...
 Another brain. These jars are nothing if not consistent.
 A brain. Not so miraculous outside of a skull.
 Another survivor.
 Looks like I'm not the only live cargo on the loose.
 Yet another escapee.
 Another empty pod.
 The Nine Hells. Or at least one of them.
 Tanks, but no tanks.
 Another tank - not for brewing, I presume.
 And what might this be?
 Another one. How unenlightening.
 Cosy, it is not.
 Damn thing. Glad to see the back of it.
 Likely I should not drink this.
 Brine - but for tadpoles, not for pickling.
 It won't budge. There must be some way to open it.
 Not giving an inch. Must be some way to unlock it.
 Held firm. Need to find the release.
 Is that Duke Ravengard? Then he lives, but barely...
 Duke Ravengard? Need to get him out of there.
 Mystra have mercy! What... what happened here?
 So much for the restorative qualities of sleep. I feel positively wretched.
 Tell her the darkness inside of you wasn't caused by an accident. It was done out of love for someone.
 So ends Halsin. Can't blame the man for seeking vengeance.
 Can't say I blame the man for seeking vengeance.
 Say, where's Karlach? She didn't abandon us, did she?
 Huh. Where's Gale?
 Say, where's Shadowheart? She didn't abandon us, did she?
 Say, where's Lae'zel? She didn't abandon us, did she?
 Say, where's Wyll? Bit early to be out hunting, isn't it?
 Mmm. A pleasant dream gives way to an even more pleasant reality.
 Wait. I'm not sure I like that look in your eyes. What's wrong?
 And you're quite sure it wasn't a dream? Cheese partaken at a late hour can wreak havoc on the unconscious... Go on, tell me about it.
 I see... fast as in right now, I assume, rather than 'first light after some sleep' fast? You'd better tell me all.
 Why, I've shared my heart with you. And I'd truly rather you didn't skewer it.
 Dangerous secrets are best shared with those who depend on you. I should know.
 We're in this together, theoretically. You should have confided in me sooner.
 This certainly casts the butchery of Alfira in a new light... but we'll find a solution for this, you and I.
 What is it? A curse? Compulsion? Enthrallment? Whatever it is, we're going to free you of it.
 Easy there... Your mind is your own, as are your limbs. Don't do anything rash.
 By the Weave, you're practically rabid. This is not good, if I may state the obvious.
 Spare me the gory details - I know you're still in there. Hold fast.
 Steady. You can rein this in - nobody's getting hurt.
 No, no clotting. I like my blood flowing in my veins, thank you most kindly.
 There will be no gorging of any sort until breakfast - understood? Stay with me.
 I think I see the madness slipping from your eyes. Looks like I won't be joining Alfira just yet.
 Welcome back to the land of the lucid - where explanations are owed, if you don't mind.
 This is surmountable, I'm sure. I'll protect you until you prevail.
 Hate's too easy for my liking. Let's take the high road on this.
 Chin up. We'll best this... well, whatever it is.
 At least there's no shortage of enemies out there for you to kill. A veritable feast for the violent-at-heart.
 Let's not throw the murderous baby out with the bathwater - it's not all right, but it's what I'm willing to do. For you.
 This is a rather high-risk romance we've embarked upon, isn't it? Brings new meaning to the term 'strange bedfellows'.
 That's capitulation, not a solution. Let's search for less drastic means.
 A most dire night-visitor to be burdened with, sounds like. My sympathies.
 Few have an unblemished history. You must better yourself, not condemn yourself.
 All right, let that anger out however you see fit.
 Gratitude can wait - you're not out of the woods yet. Stay focused.
 I... see? Sweet that you care enough to murder me. Mind if you don't?
 Hmm. All right, then. Hopefully there's no more interludes before daybreak.
 Mmm... mmmph? Ah! What're you...? This is a truly disgusting hour to seek a chin-wag, you know.
 Arabella's gone to the city, then. We may yet see her again.
 Arabella's gone, then. Even with those talents of hers, there's no guarantee she'll survive...
 Snatched beneath my very nose. Astarion's bound for Cazador's palace, no doubt.
 Better save any rescue attempts until dawn. Darkness is no ally in the pursuit of such an enemy.
 Snatched beneath our very noses. Astarion's bound for Cazador's palace, no doubt.
 There we go. Sight from sore eyes.
 Quite worthless, as it turns out.
 I'm quite exhausted. A good night's sleep would do me wonders.
 So there's a hook horror down here. This is truly the pit that keeps on giving.
 My, the local fauna sounds appropriately terrifying.
 What was that place...?
 Offfph... I feel less-than-well...
 Yet another unwelcome opportunity to contemplate this ghastly abattoir.
 Look at it... This must be the place where sanity comes to drown.
 These siege engines... it's like walking into a military history book. A century old, I'd say.
 This stuff's ancient. Abandoned to the elements for a long time, I'd say.
 It's my spirit draining... only light drives the shadows away...
 I can barely think straight... this place saps the very thoughts from your mind.
 Not sure... how much farther I can go...
 They feed on me instead... I need light...
 Please... some light... dispel the darkness...
 We need to escape these shadows, while we still have the strength.
 These shadows will be the death of me. We need light...
 Yes, light. Before we are consumed entirely.
 I need light... the darkness is consuming me...
 Poor souls. They can rest now.
 Seems like they put up a struggle - in vain.
 The origin point of the drider's caravan, it seems.
 At least they won't drag any more poor souls along in chains.
 Cages, shackles, whips... all prepared to mete out misery on captives.
 The drider's caravan must have came from here.
 At least they've herded their last prisoner.
 A long march through dark, unfriendly lands. I don't envy them.
 Agh... I'll be sucked dry of all life if I linger here...
 The shadows... feels like they're gnawing at my very being.
 I can't linger in this darkness - I'm weakening by the moment.
 These shadows will be the death of me...
 Flesh met horn - and flesh lost.
 All the hallmarks of a miserable death.
 The ring must be Ellie May's. Better in my hands than those of some graverobber, I say.
 Ellie May. Passed by her grave earlier.
 This grave has been disturbed. Must have been an animal, or whatever else lurks in this darkness.
 Poor beast. It didn't deserve to die in fear.
 Its horns bear someone else's blood. It must have put up a fight.
 My, a pixie.
 Feisty little darling, isn't she?
 She'd put a sailor to shame with that mouth.
 My, what an angry little pixie. She's practically turning the air blue.
 A pixe. What a darling little ruffian.
 The very plates of the earth have been shattered by the magic of the shadow curse. Utterly fascinating - unless you happened to be standing on it, of course.
 Charming. Seems like you can't even take flight to evade this shadow curse.
 That corpse is tainted by the shadows, no doubt. Best avoided.
 A pocket of nature, thriving in the darkness. Just as Halsin predicted...
 Wildflowers in bloom... A welcome sight, but a strange one...
 Research notes - on the nature of the shadow curse. A most-fortuitous find.
 Notes on the shadow curse. I sincerely hope its effects haven't spread past this region...
 Hells. I have better things to do than seek out unsettling little children.
 Ah, I have you! Just a shame I don't want you.
 Is it too much to ask for the blasted torches to stay lit?!
 I'd gladly carry a pair of rancid britches on a stick right now, if they kept aflame.
 Can't keep anything lit in this curse.
 Damn. The curse has snuffed my light.
 An entire domain, ensconced in shadow curse. That's quite the enchantment.
 An entire domain, wrapped in shadow. This feels more like a god's work than man's. I'm not sure I want to step in there.
 Watch out - meenlocks.
 Meenlocks!
 Their sight works best in darkness - stay with light, if you can.
 Those claws look sharp. Better stay clear - I much prefer to keep my insides on the inside.
 Hells. What gruesome creature's assailing me now?
 Those claws look sharp - stay clear, unless you wish to trip on your own entrails.
 Gods - that is not a pretty sight.
 Oof. Not even an ogre could move this.
 Oof. Not even an ogre could move this. What are you hiding, Marcus?
 Believe it or not, but I know that stuffed bear. Darkmaw the Wicked.
 He terrorised everyone and everything between the woods of Cloak and Sharp Teeth. Odd place for him to end up, this.
 Impressive specimen. Better off stuffed than stalking me, I daresay.
 The shadows are coming alive. We've got a fight on our hands!
 All we can give them is a second, final death.
 So this is Marcus' handiwork. That sick bastard.
 A Flaming Fist, her face beaten beyond recognition. There was some sick individual at work here.
 There he is, General Ketheric Thorm leading an army of Sharran warriors. A Fallen Paladin if ever there was one.
 A venerated leader stands out among the Sharran warriors. Must have been a champion of Shar, perhaps a Chosen even.
 It's cold in this... grave. The shadows darken. Some horror is at hand.
 Something's amiss. Shadowheart - what happened? Why did you vanish like that?
 Shar speaks, but why to us?
 Ketheric Thorm had a daughter? I hope she didn't follow in daddy's footsteps...
 Isobel... isn't that the name of the Last Light's cleric protector?
 So Isobel is Isobel Thorm? Such a thing should not be possible...
 Isobel's final resting place. Well, not that final, once Ketheric came back for her...
 Moonrise Towers - under its original stewardship.
 Looks like quite a place.
 The disc is moving - Shar's trials must continue wherever it leads.
 The disc is moving. Better see where it leads.
 Curious to find an orthon here - perhaps there was an untold tale behind that.
 Seems like we tied up a loose end for Raphael. Not sure if he'll be grateful though...
 A remarkable spear. The very one that Shadowheart wishes to claim, no doubt.
 Interesting spear. Deadly-looking, but interesting.
 This depicts a man grieving over a lost one, his wife or daughter most likely. I don't want to imagine such pain.
 This depicts Ketheric Thorm grieving over his daughter. But did he shed tears too for all who fell beneath his sword?
 My, this must be the proverbial lion's den. Or lion's abattoir, rather.
 Now that can't be comfortable. Especially for the corpses.
 When she resurrects, she'll have no interest in helping me.
 Better sent to Moonrise than left to rot down here. I hope.
 A dismal place for an aasimar to spend her existence. Especially with that necrotic toad for company.
 Nothing more to be done here.
 Finally, the heavens are on my side. Or at least, one very irritated Aasimar.
 Ketheric will come to regret his abuse of her powers. I'll make sure of that.
 A cruel fate for such a wondrous being. Is there so little room for light in you, Shadowheart?
 Shar is no doubt pleased. Though I'm not sure I care for the pleasures of such a goddess.
 An aasimar for an ally. I feel the odds shifting in our favour already.
 Ketheric has the wrath of the heavens upon him now. And no hope of resurrection.
 Rather ruthless of you to just hand her over like that.
 Let's hope she doesn't seek revenge. I don't fancy facing an aasimar's wrath.
 Her death will be temporary, but her anger... that will be permanent.
 When she resurrects, she'll have no interest in helping us.
 Imagine being trapped here, faced with eternal torment. I think I'd rather just die.
 Ketheric Thorm has a lot to answer for.
 Bodies upon bodies, long left to rot. A grim sight indeed.
 Dark Justiciars. No doubt they served General Ketheric, in another life.
 Defied once more. That ring must be some form of Sharran defence.
 Nothing for it but to do it again. Only correctly this time.
 Hell of a breeze down here. What in Faerûn was that?
 Blasted ring. Won't be getting past that easily.
 The blood of Selûne? But what about the Nightsong?
 The blood of Selûne? Sounds like a sacrifice...
 Seems I need to find the platforms by memory alone if I'm to cross unscathed.
 I'll admit it - I'm at a loss.
 No earthly voice... I think the Lady Shar speaks to us...
 This mirror once drew its power from the Shadow Weave. Even shattered, its dark power lingers.
 Someone took offence at what that mirror showed them. Or what it didn't.
 A ritual circle, chalked in the manner of the hells. What infernal purpose did it serve?
 A ritual circle, though for what purpose I haven't the foggiest.
 I have the miserable feeling of being prey. Something's on the hunt...
 There's a task afoot. Not sure what's needed of me, unfortunately.
 I need to navigate this labyrinth unseen, it seems.
 Seems I have to defeat myself, as it was written.
 I can't say I grasp what I need to do here...
 |So the Nightsong is indeed a person, and a sacrifice at that.|
 |Reacting to confirmation that NS is a person|
 |Wow I can't believe Nightsong is a living being|
 |Reacting to realisation that NS is a person|
 Shar isn't known for her mercy. Though I thought a more merciful heart lay within you...
 The Nightsong is no ordinary offering. If the Nightsong is a person, then it's blood Shar demands...
 All these bone arrangements reek of dark magic afoot - necromancy, I'll wager.
 Well, this doesn't look foreboding at all.
 This architecture - this can only be the work of Shar worshippers.
 A pressure plate... but unarmed. Why is that?
 Better get my hands on that gem.
 A gem. Doesn't strike me as purely decorative...
 Another of those gems - yet their purpose still eludes me.
 Another gem. Better get hold of it.
 The army of the Absolute is gone, marching west. Sooner or later the very walls of Baldur's Gate will tremble.
 These grounds look like they've been trampled by an entire horde of beasts. An army passed through here.
 This corpse... Dear gods, it's Arabella's mother.
 A dead tiefling. The horror of their end I daren't contemplate.
 This corpse... Dear gods, it's Arabella's father.
 'Rascal.'? 'Jagoda.'? Pet names. These must be their collars - which does not bode well for them.
 These collars are stained with blood. A gruesome end to the mystery of the missing pets.
 Enough campfires for an army - the Absolute's army. That's close enough, I think.
 All those campfires - there's a whole army of creatures out there. Better keep my distance.
 Buried in the Selûnite manner. With great haste, by all appearances.
 Buried in the Selûnite manner, though hastily. Defeated by Shar's Chosen, no doubt.
 Looks like this was a hasty burial. Clearly the threat was not extinguished.
 Missing - 'Zola'. 'Rascal'. Hmmm, the word 'missing' seems somewhat optimistic given those blood-stained collars I came across earlier.
 'MissingRascal - brown puppy. Jagoda - black and white cat. Zola...' The list goes on. Bad place to be a pet, this.
 Not your wisest move, was it?
 Hmm. Perhaps facing down an army wasn't my wisest choice...
 I'm not sure what this is, but I am very sure it's not good.
 Necromancy. Looks like the victims are being drained of life and put to work.
 Seems like it draws power from whoever's in the cradle... which is currently nobody.
 It draws power from a host. About what you expect from illithid technology.
 Unpowered. Wonder what it's lacking...
 Nothing left but ash and bone. A fitting end to the Chosen of Myrkul.
 My tadpole's growing restless. Does anyone else feel that?
 It's reacting to something down here. We should prepare to do the same.
 My tadpole's growing restless. Feels like it's excited. Or terrified.
 Wonderful. I was just thinking I was far too clean.
 So much hidden away beneath Moonrise Towers. How deep does this warren go?
 Gods, that smell. Abattoir crossed with privy.
 I'm rather alarmed to say I suddenly feel inexplicably jubilant. How ominously delightful.
 That feeling of jubilance... It's gone. What a relief it is to return to a state of appropriate dread.
 What can you tell me about the Crown the brain was wearing?
 Mol's eyepatch. But where is Mol?
 An eyepatch...?
 Mind flayer script. I shouldn't be able to understand it... and yet I do? Kudos to the tadpole, I suppose.
 This is gibberish... and yet somehow I understand it? Odd. Decidedly odd.
 Ketheric is dead, but the shadow curse lives. It would be unwise to succumb to it now.
 Whatever dangers lie ahead, at least the shadow curse is one blight we were able to cure.
 A pity to leave this land in the shadow curse's blighted grip. But the Absolute's threat dwarfs even this.
 Where's our dream guardian?
 That doesn't sound terribly promising...
 A Magic Mouth spell. Must be important.
 A githyanki blade, no doubt.
 Skewered monk. A delicacy to someone, no doubt.
 Githyanki armour. Not much left of the occupant - one of the original raiding party, I'd guess.
 Githyanki armour. Not much left of the warrior inside.
 Peculiar shape. Oddly familiar, somehow...
 Peculiar shape. There may be some other purpose to this...
 Hells, this place is on the verge of collapse.
 Let's get out of here!
 Time to run.
 Help! Get me out of this thing, before the whole place collapses!
 Hold on - we need an exit from this chamber as well.
 Hells, can't just leave them in there - someone do something!
 Better get out of here.
 Hells, I need to get out of here.
 I would have thought the gith to be too proud to squat in someone else's ruins.
 Indeed. This is all a little too shopworn for their tastes.
 My, took quite the workout to get this moving. Must have been ages since someone last used it.
 Blast. It'd take a hundred Mage Hands or more to set this thing in motion.
 Talking statues often herald trouble, in my experience...
 A Magic Mouth spell - so that voice must be from someone long-deceased.
 Quite a door. Though what's behind it is a touch underwhelming...
 I do believe I saw a key with the very same markings.
 Powerful-looking piece of armament. Used on those githyanki, perhaps?
 Quite a potent-looking weapon.
 A sight to nourish the soul! Now let's sit down and nourish the stomach.
 And to think I couldn't imagine this place could get any more foreboding...
 Indeed. This place makes my skin crawl - no, makes it run full pelt.
 This Inquisitor sounds like a daunting chap. But who knows? Perhaps he'll answer our questions.
 We should be so lucky.
 I wonder if this Inquisitor is as fearsome as his reputation suggests...
 Grooves beneath those statues... Perhaps they can be moved?
 Hmm. That book mentioned Lathander statues that could be moved...
 Mind flayer anatomy, rendered in quite disturbing detail. The gith clearly know their enemy inside out.
 A magic-user, disguised as a bear. I'd better take a closer look at that corpse.
 Looks like Halsin's no more. Better see what I can glean from his remains.
 Selûnite symbols. They're just like the dwarf's poem described.
 Selûnite symbols. They're just like the dwarf's poem described, and from the looks of it they can be rotated.
 Intriguing. What manner of device could this be?
 These plates can be rotated. Most likely for a reason.
 My word - the lady with the artefact. How very tragic...
 My word - it's Shadowheart. How very tragic...
 Never knew goblins can't hold their liquor.
 The owlbear. Man's best friend - until it goes hungry.
 Poor creature. I hope it can follow my scent to camp.
 There were claws at work here. Magic too. Hallmarks of a druid. Our friend Halsin must have been rather keen to return to his grove.
 This must be the spot they held Halsin captive. Clearly he didn't quite appreciate the accommodations.
 Someone left a mess on the way out. I wonder if it's one of those adventurer fellows that gave the goblins the slip.
 Something escaped from this place, and its jailors didn't live to tell the tale.
 Looks like someone escaped from this place, rather messily I might add. Could have returned to the grove if it was one of the adventurers.
 Word of warningif you keep banging on war drums, you might just be drumming up war.
 Shabby workmanship. A strong push and this wall comes down.
 You like to make an entrance, don't you?
 If there is a healer here, I hope they don't solve problems with your... enthusiasm.
 So much for finding a safe haven.
 We'd best deal with them, or their healer will be kept very busy indeed.
 That was a brain-rattler. He'll be nursing his head for a tenday.
 Hardly the intelligent way to solve your problems. I suggest we seek out their healer, then move swiftly onwards.
 Wyvern poison. Lethal stuff. Let's hope we won't have to sample its delights.
 I've read it's one of the nastiest poisons in Faerûn. Starts burning in the small intestine, and works its way through the blood from there.
 As something of a potential would-be mind flayer myself, I couldn't agree more.
 Oh, I don't know. I can think of worse deaths than toasting to you all with a wyvern sour.
 I feel... sick. What in the hells did that druid do to me?
 I grow cold, numb. I need a damned antidote now!
 This ritual rings a bell, but its execution is... grander somehow. A great flowering in the making.
 Not just altered, but... magnified. There's powerful magic budding here.
 Look at all those vines spread like vices over the grove. A sour harvest in the making.
 Impenetrable. But why would we even bother?
 The poison is overtaking me. Bring me back! I must be brought back!
 Excellent. Time to uncover some secrets.
 Gah - villain! But I see you now for what you are!
 That voice! Ambrosia... Sing on!
 This music! To live for... To die for...
 Is that you, Mystra? It is you! Sing! Sing on!
 Play on! Play on and soothe my soul!
 So Kagha is involved with the Shadow Druids. That certainly explains things.
 No one in the grove will suspect their true enemy walks among them.
 Shadow Druids have taken root in these parts, and whoever Kagha is, she's their agent.
 We did this. Such depravity cannot be erased.
 A dark blade. If I'm right - and I usually am - it's the glaive from the druid's notebook.
 An exquisite blade, although its magic is a little darker than I'd like.
 Looks like Zarys' missing shipment. It must be hiding quite the treasure.
 Only one way to find out. Unless we plan to ask the Zhentarim for a shipping manifest.
 A weighty-looking chest. What treasures might that be filled with?
 Only one way to find out. Time to indulge our curiosity.
 Looks like Zarys' missing shipment. The one she was most insistent we return unopened.
 Let's hope our fee isn't worth less than its contents.
 The chest Zarys sought, if I'm not mistaken. She'll pay handsomely to get that back.
 Not your average chest. Whatever's inside is worth a peek, I'd say.
 The chest Zarys sought, if I'm not mistaken. What treasures is it hiding?
 A teasing sound, but to what effect?
 Look at thatthere's a chest hidden in the hay.
 An untouched stack of hay. Mustn't be any horses around.
 Gods, this assault on the nostrils should be labelled a war crime.
 Blast, I can't lift this.
 Hmmm. When one door closes, another opens. All I need to do is find it.
 Someone made short work of these gnolls. Made it look easy too. That's someone to be reckoned with.
 Green blouse, brown hair - must be Benryn's wife, Miri.
 Poor woman. Nothing we can do for her.
 Gnolls erupting from corpses? I've not seen the likes of it.
 I wonder how many more newborns are around.
 No wonder such violent beginnings lead to violent ends.
 These barrelstalks are full of poison - ready to be released by the myconids if they feel threatened.
 These things reek of poisonous rot. Best keep a wary distance.
 This is no ordinary storage room. This depth... This feeling of incomprehensible abyss... The Underdark.
 Magical access into the Underdark. A shortcut to death one might call that.
 This is no ordinary cave, no ordinary depth in stone. Good gods, this is the Underdark...
 Trickles of Weave radiate from that chest.
 I feel trickles of Weave, but what's their source?
 I wonder what these grooves are. Territorial markings maybe, but I can't say for certain.
 These are territorial markings and recent ones too. There are hunters around.
 An eerily chilling scene, this. I suspect many were present at this blighted Nightfall feast.
 Food and drink, followed by murder in Shar's name. Barbaric.
 I suspect many a Sharran was present at this blighted Nightfall feast. An evening of merriment before the real prize - murder.
 An eerily chilling scene, this. I suspect many a spectre was present at this blighted feast.
 It's still bereft of power.
 This contraption is powered by magic, but its magic seems to be gone - or dormant.
 It doesn't look defective, but its magic aura is too faint for it to operate.
 A bulette... Best brace for a vicious battle.
 Whatever that was, it looks mightily unpleasant.
 These burrow holes have all the markings of having been dug by bulettes. There's trouble afoot.
 These burrow holes must have been dug by some creature. Most likely not a creature I'd like to meet.
 Rope, tools, marks in the rock. Our escaped gnome climbed to freedom here.
 Rope, tools, marks in the rock. Someone made quite the daring ascent.
 Further mention of the adamantine forge. The duergar were looking for it too.
 Another clue about the adamantine forge. Unnecessary now that the memory shard revealed its location.
 Plenty more were looking for the forge it seems. The drow had competition.
 The adamantine forge again. Dhourn, too, was looking to find it.
 Another reference to the adamantine forge. No mention of a guardian this time.
 The dead drow spoke of a forge. Must be the same one.
 That enchanted journal made note of an adamantine forge as well. I must be on to something.
 Further mention of the adamantine forge. Someone was dead set on finding it.
 There's mention here of an adamantine forge. Such would be a rare and valuable find indeed.
 That pin's design looks familiar, but I can't seem to place it.
 That pin... she was a Harper. Strange place for her to be, even if a drow.
 Yet another scrying eye. Someone's keeping a close watch on the place.
 Best be on our guard.
 That's a scrying eye. Someone's monitoring the place.
 Yet another scrying eye. They were keeping a close watch on the goblins as well.
 My, my. The tome on flumphs hid truer words behind its impostor ones. What a clever feat of magic.
 The magic veil has been drawn back from the drow's book on flumphs. Let me peruse.
 The air here is rife with fungal spores. Must be myconids nearby.
 Fungal spores... Must be myconids nearby.
 Well, well - he symbolic triumph of the Absolute over the darkness of Shar. Petty vandalism, in my opinion.
 Someone sought to deface Shar it seems, though not with a symbol I recognise.
 A perfect ring of mushrooms. That can hardly be a coincidence.
 This fairy ring looks disappointingly dormant.
 It's mask after mask in here.
 Interesting mask. I quite like the design.
 This place was rife with merregons. And they never travel without a commander...
 Merely merregons, however. Their commander might still be at large.
 They unsettle somehow - as if they harbour a lingering presence.
 It's heavier than I thought. Must have been strong creatures that wore them.
 It belonged to a merregon. They dissolve upon death, leaving only their masks behind.
 It belonged to a merregon. Infernal soldiers.
 Oh well, a minor mystery it must remain.
 Hmmm. Empty.
 It's one thing to be sculpted, another to become the sculpture. That was a close call.
 Spectators don't normally possess the ability to petrify. Something's not adding up.
 Aha! Looks like I found... a piece of bone. How riveting.
 No further treasure to be found I'm afraid.
 The injuries on this drow are consistent with a fall. A very deep fall.
 A dead drow - took quite a pounding, too.
 Nothing in these notes but nonsensical run-on sentences.
 These papers describe an adamantine forge hidden somewhere deep below. Such a forge is a treasure vault where the treasure's for the making.
 An adamantine forge is very much a treasure, and any good treasure is protected by a guardian. Looks like we can defeat it with a so-called 'hot hammer'.
 The reference to a 'hot hammer' is rather puzzling though. Whoever wrote these papers must have been rather delirious.
 What have we here? Adamantine forge... Mysterious guardian... Mention of a 'hot hammer'... A whole adventure in a nutshell.
 A heart and soul of molten fire... That is a lava elemental!
 No wonder this lava lake is churning. It is one with the elemental inside.
 These are no ordinary lights. Yet there must be a way to turn them on.
 Arcane lights. How delightful.
 The speckles in this slag... That's adamantine, I'm sure of it.
 There are speckles of... something or other in this slag. Could be anything.
 The hag's lair again. Better be careful while Auntie Evil is still around.
 The hag's lair again. Sans hag that is.
 You'll turn a blind eye for me, won't you?
 Aha! This must be the book that hides a book within. Let's take a closer look.
 A spell of sorts is masking the book's true meaning. But I'm sure there's a way around that...
 What's this? 'Flumph Mating Rituals'. Acquired taste, I'm sure, but not mine. Nor a drow's I would have thought...
 Well... That was anticlimactic.
 Hmmm. I must not be doing it right.
 Yet again the adamantine forge is mentioned. Surely I'm on the right track.
 A collar covered with runes. Belonged to a wizard's pet I gather.
 Must have belonged to a wizard's pet, I gather.
 Must have belonged to Lenore's pet, I gather.
 I've read about these creatures. They tend to be benign unless provoked.
 Something... unnatural is causing this lake to simmer and boil.
 That lava lake boils like a good stew. Lovely.
 Hmmm. Wear this and you'll only ever be a knight in rusted armour.
 The collar stirs. Something must be triggering the runes' magic.
 This seems to have run out of food disappointingly quickly.
 This button must have had a use once, but was it worth reaching so far down for?
 Clever. Give a dog a magical food dispensing collar, and I'm sure it will eat.
 I can feel the collar stirring in my pack. Something must be triggering the runes' magic.
 How lovely. A shortcut into the hag's palace of perversion and pain.
 Nere must be long dead by now. I suppose that makes it slightly more palatable to sever his head from his body.
 There's an aperture in the metal's surface. Perfect fit for that mould, if I'm not mistaken.
 There's an aperture in the metal's surface. For a mould, I imagine...
 Hmmm. So if I stand, the power's gone. Sedentary magic I suppose that's called.
 It's done... It's dead... Good gods, never again!
 A perfect fit. Now to feed the forge with the right materials.
 The forge is not budging quite yet. I must be overlooking something.
 The forge is ready. Let the games begin.
 Wonderful. All that's missing now is the mould.
 My, not only is this chair comfortable, it imbues its sitter with power!
 My word, what a feat of engineering. Most impressive indeed.
 This must be the forge - and what a feat of engineering it is.
 Look at that. An unconventional weapon, but it might just be an effective one.
 A Sharran artefact, and remarkably blood-free. A rare thing indeed.
 This icon bears Shar's likeness. No doubt Shadowheart will be interested in it.
 Seek, and I shall find.
 Left out in plain sight? I'd rate the Harpers too smart for that.
 In that case, let there be Light.
 I don't quite see how that's relevant...
 A Harper rune. Signals a hidden cache nearby if I'm not mistaken.
 A rune sign, but not one I recognise. Its meaning eludes me.
 Blood, tracks, broken shackles... The story of an escape told in tell-tale paraphernalia.
 A bloody mess this. Something rather unpleasant went down here.
 A loose stone. Perhaps a secret about to be unhidden.
 A casting mould. Made for the forge, no doubt.
 A steel mould - used for weapons and armour, I reckon. Must be a forge somewhere it can be paired with.
 This crossbow was exquisitely designed. No duergar crafted this... its dark grace is most definitely Sharran in origin.
 This crossbow was exquisitely designed. No duergar crafted it, that much is obvious.
 My, my. Second time's the charm.
 Quite a bit less-than-divine for a god, wasn't he? With powers as fleeting as his followers' lives.
 A Selûnite piece. Not magical, but charming enough.
 Better not disturb these webs. Whatever wove them would be much too large for my liking.
 Impressive webbing. Though I should probably worry about its creators.
 Looks like she's fit as a fiddle again. Which might be somewhat dangerous, mind you.
 A wizard sealed this chest. Wasn't an amateur either.
 A shrine. Looks forlorn.
 An unusual place to find a shrine of Selûne, but there it is.
 Ow! Protective magic. Should have known.
 Game marks as faded as the memories of the children that played them. I wonder what became of them.
 Why bother? The dead can't hear my summons.
 No response? Ogres aren't the types to enjoy a quiet night by the fire, I suppose.
 No ogres. Stands to reason the sound of this primitive tool doesn't carry very far.
 A pretty tune, but that's all this horn is good for now.
 And there we go. Never knew prayer could be so practical.
 The Absolute - that's the mystery god Sazza mentioned. Eerie common ground, if you ask me.
 Goblins and humans worshipping the same god? Eerie common ground, if you ask me.
 Well. That quite the load of gobbledygook, wasn't it?
 Whatever the Absolute it, it certainly seems to command a lot of devotion.
 The bark's in place. Now to add a greatsword, sickle, or dagger.
 Ready to go, but not quite. Something else is needed.
 A Thayan book about necromancy. Not for the faint of heart. All the more for the decayed of heart.
 A Thayan book about necromancy. Not for the faint of heart. All the more for the decayed of heart. Much magic to be absorbed indeed.
 An ancient prayer. But why hidden back here? And what's this symbol?
 This prayer bears the same symbol as the chest. I think it might just be the key.
 An ancient prayer. Wonder if Selûne was listening.
 No more prayers, only silence. Must be lonesome to be a forgotten god.
 Those undead did not surrender their secrets lightly. Something drove them to resist.
 Let's have a look at the loot. It isn't for your pockets only.
 Bad form, isn't it? Grave robbing?
 Now let's have a look at the loot. It isn't for your pockets only.
 Ah, fleeing from battle. And I thought desecrating those graves was a low point.
 Such oppressive silence. Must be lonesome to be a forgotten god.
 This must be the god they worshipped here. Can't say I recognise him.
 Look at that! Jergal, the Scribe of the Dead. This chapel must be ancient.
 Yes, I'm getting a distinct whiff of crypt. Undisturbed too, until now.
 Well now, to see through this mask is to see through different eyes.
 The cage is burning! There isn't much time to save her!
 Out of my head, hag!
 Let the hunt begin...
 My, a veritable cabinet of creepy curiosities.
 At last! How foul it was to have hag in the head.
 Two dead men. These are recent kills...
 These killings were deliberately brutal. There's something near that relishes in carnage.
 The brothers in arms have perished. Never did find their sister, I suppose.
 That's a rather jaunty hat lying in the mud there - and a sword too. Someone must have been in quite the hurry to get out of this swamp.
 Ouch! That stung.
 Blast. Even worse the second time around.
 Ah! Sharper than Malar's fangs, these thorns!
 That is no ordinary fireplace. There's something there, beyond the flames.
 How the flames always mesmerise the soul.
 What's going on with that rune? Looks unstable somehow.
 So, it's a weapon they seek. Could they be referring to the artefact?
 Let's hope not. If they know we have their 'weapon' they'll never give up. More's the pity.
 Easy as that, is it? I hope you wouldn't give the rest of us up so easily.
 Having a vampire in our midsts will only end in betrayal. I merely took the initiative.
 How thoroughly invigorating it is to stand by one's friend in the face of danger.
 We should judge him by his actions, not his teeth. Unless his teeth are the source of the action, of course...
 My, my, a mimic. I'm the last one you've tried to ambush, you craven thing.
 Good gods, that's disgusting.
 No time for star-gazing. More's the pity.
 A trap... This place is more dangerous than I thought.
 I spy with my little eye...
 Something hidden - but not from me.
 Methinks I spotted something.
 What's that over there?
 Intriguing.
 A trap... So much for the art of hospitality.
 Hmm. Won't work from here.
 Nothing. The activation mechanism must be elsewhere.
 There must be some way to turn this on.
 Useless, unless I find a way to activate it.
 Locked. Perhaps by some nearby mechanism...
 Not budging. There must be something here to unlock it.
 Can't be opened directly. Time to investigate.
 No ordinary lock. Something else seals it.
 Ah, to hold the world in the palm of one's hand!
 You turn on me... That's another oath broken. Ironic, in a way.
 Gods, you're distracting aren't you?
 Perhaps later, when I'm not in mortal peril...
 Hardly the right moment for that!
 Not the time!
 Weave save me. I can't take much more...
 Looking magical, as always.
 Let's have a look at myself...
 Shadowheart? Gold for your thoughts?
 A sacrifice? There's little to offer here but bones and dust. Let's keep going.
 Well, do let me know if I should send in a search party.
 That boar shows no signs it was killed by wolves or hunters, and yet there's terror etched into its dead eyes.
 He had wit as sharp as his fangs. I can't say I'll miss him, but I can't say I won't either...
 Need I remind you that he tried to open one of our necks like a Thayan Red?
 It was a risk that nearly cost you your neck.
 It hardly matters now - Astarion is dead. Permanently, one can only hope.
 It hardly matters now - Astarion is gone and we can only hope for good. Still, let's keep a wary eye out, shall we?
 Wit like fangs, that much I knew he had. Actual ones I did not suspect.
 We all missed the clues. And in return, Astarion tried to open our necks like bottles of Thayan Red.
 He was quite a character. I can't say I'll miss him, but I can't say I won't either...
 That may well be, but we can't just invite danger in to our hearth like that. We must be more careful.
 Just so. He was a dangerous ally, to us and our enemies both...
 If you're looking for fun, I can recommend several excellent novels. And very few of them will try to kill you in your sleep.
 Of course, he was quite a character. I can't say I'll miss him, but I can't say I won't either...
 It's a coy thing, hindsightit gives you a glimpse of what could have been, and nothing more. But this night could have gone very differently - remember that.
 What's done is done, all we can do now is carry on and maybe be a little more sceptical of those we meet.
 It's Lae'zel, or what's left of her, now the shadows have done their work...
 A greater master than an elder brain? A ulitharid, perhaps?
 A collective, then - many Elders come together for greater ends.
 Tell Lae'zel about the orb in your chest, and how it came to be there.
 I'd like to talk about Elminster's visit.
 Gale.
 I've a... condition I need to manage. I'd still be looking for a cure.
 Wandering the wilds of Faerûn searching for a cure to the orb. If I lived that long...
 These boots have clearly been enchanted with powerful magic. Exactly the sort of thing I'm looking for.
 The name's Gale. I'm sure the pleasure will be mutual.
 Selûne's personal blessing infuses this amulet. Let it bless me, I say...
 A hag's magic is nothing to be scoffed at. This staff is exactly the kind of artefact I'm looking for.
 An iron flask, teeming with magic. A fortunate find indeed.
 A Selûnite amulet. Perhaps the Lady of Silver has presented me a gift to quell the storm within.
 What a fine blade this is. Almost a pity to absorb it's magic, but I do so have need of it.
 This book... I can almost taste it's magic. Yes. Just the thing.
 Wicked magic sleeps in this cowl... I think I had better consume it for my own good.
 Hmm. Interesting workaround.
 Drow magic radiates from that cowl, and drow are masters at magic.
 You're a vampire?! Stand back! I'll run a stake through your heart if I must!
 Look at those boots. I sense magic - in droves.
 Introduce yourself as Gale and incline your headladies first.
 This idol's power is quite phenomenal. Quite perfect for my condition to boot.
 Look at that idol. Silvanus is an ancient and powerful god. I'm sure the magic inside it is... delicious.
 That staff looks more than intriguing. Much worth obtaining, I say.
 Gods, we truly are hopeless.
 The debtor's attire is the only thing preventing a hostile reception. I need to put it back on.
 Menzoberranzan, City of Spiders. Who's caught in Raphael's web there, I wonder?
 Baldur's Gate, Raphael's portal. This must be how he goes back and forth to the city.
 Even the splendour of Neverwinter must be tainted by Raphael's influence.
 Mephistar - home of the arch-devil Mephistopheles. Raphael's brave to sneak around him.
 Waterdeep. Gods, I wish I could go home.
 Athkatla, capital of Amn. Not a city overly fond of wizards. Their loss.
 A cracked wall. It could be broken through, with the right encouragement.
 All corpse, no brain. What use has the Steel Watch of a mindless cadaver?
 Piloted by a headless zombie. Then how are the Watchers watching?
 Of course! Gond is 'Nebelun' to these gnomes. His true name, at least from their perspective.
 Orin clearly takes comfort in such vile surrounds. Can't say I feel the same.
 How many such innocents will die before the Absolute are wiped from this plane?
 Looks like Orin took her time with this one. So many agonies inflicted on one body. It's almost personal.
 These were scholars! All that learning, destroyed.
 Protected by a magic ward. In here, I'd expect nothing less.
 Ambushers, lurking in the undergrowth. Better not give them the upper hand.
 A mirror that pilfers memories? Seems like a Sharran ploy, for sure.
 So that's what that mirror is for.
 All vellum, no venom. This tome's magic is exhausted.
 A true infernal item, tainted by the Hells themselves. Looks like she's a diabolist after all.
 'Rite of the Timeless Body.' Is this a ritual Jaheira intends to perform?
 So, it was Ethel all along. Where has she gone to now?
 Ugh, what a mess. Someone else should clean this up.
 These footprints are made of no ordinary muck. They carry the sewers' stink.
 Lorroakan's finally gained power worthy of his reputation. Not that he earned it.
 Powerful artefacts, sat here gathering dust... I'm sure there's no harm in borrowing some.
 Nothing more dangerous than an empty throne. Except, perhaps, being the next to sit in it.
 Canopic jars borne by undead vessels. Someone clearly appreciates their irony.
 This portrait's warded with some kind of necrotic magic. Rudimentary, but effective.
 The mailed fist of a paladin of Torm. No doubt many felt the steely grip of its wearer's righteous justice.
 'Those who draw breath, embrace death.' A warning these corpses clearly failed to heed.
 Seems like this 'Mystic Carrion' offered Oskar his help. Time to find out what exactly that entailed.
 An 'Unholy Assassin.' Is that better or worse than a holy one?
 Nothing like putting in the right things in the right order.
 The crown's secrets are within our grasp at last. All we have to do is turn the page.
 Well, there goes my appetite.
 A lot of blood... and some pink stains?
 Don't be so hasty, meting out violence. These two seem important.
 Hells. Beautiful mer-folk, these are not.
 More of those fish folk. And just as unfriendly as before.
 No ordinary war hammer. Carved with the Luiric symbol for the number three. I wonder why?
 Excellent. Stuck no longer.
 Shadowheart's biography, as written by Viconia. Her tutelage, her training... reams of the stuff.
 There, in the debris. Something else.
 They just keep coming. What powers are protecting it?
 Why would an ordinary painting have such eldritch defences? Some strange curse is at work here.
 You don't want to make an offering? A prayer of some kind?
 A jar touched by death itself. Some necromantic power infuses it.
 Nasty case of brain freeze. That dagger's frozen solid.
 Looks like we're in for some bad press. As if my reputation wasn't tarnished enough.
 You and I both. Let's just stay very calm, very serene. The last thing we need is to set this place off.
 The torturer worked hard to prise the secrets from this one. Sharrans, githyanki, all desperate for the Astral Prism's power.
 An excellent source of arcana. Its magic should come in quite handy.
 Gone... And where he goes, death is soon to follow.
 As if by magic, the ward is no more. Now to see what it was guarding.
 I'm almost certain that accomplished something. But what, and where? Time to find out.
 In my experience, it's best to pay for the beds before sleeping in them.
 Some things are better left buried. Like this corpse, and the apparently grisly fate it suffered.
 Once again, I find myself grateful our aquaintance is a more recent one. And less visceral.
 Ugh. Looks like a necromantic ritual of some kind. One long abandoned, judging by the smell.
 Ugh. Fouler than a hag's bath water. Think I'll avoid a dip in that particular pool.
 Who needs to crack codes when you have enough ingenuity?
 Now, to see what this portrait's gaze is truly focused on...
 Best not to touch the chest of offerings other mortals have left to their gods. But I can use the altar to pray.
 A summoning ritual by the looks of it. I dread to think what manner of creature she called out to.
 Less correct than I hoped. Next time's a charm.
 Oi! If I wanted a flaming mace flung at my head, I'd have bloody well asked for it.
 Aylin made short work of Rolan. If its revenge she wants, I'll have to show her some real wizardry.
 A fine portrait. Seeing one's face committed to canvas is its own kind of magic.
 Need to get the child out of here, and sharpish!
 Seems this plate is connected to the lights over the door. Some kind of code, perhaps.
 What's this? The skull is vibrating...
 We'll have no more deep water adventures on that thing. Broken beyond repair.
 Ah. Not the defenceless jar it seemed. It bears some form of protection.
 A magic ward. Someone doesn't want this door opened.
 Stuck fast.
 Not the roaring success I was hoping for.
 A curious bottle. Made for a fine liquor, no doubt.
 Ah, Wyvern Whisky - Nimbral's finest nectar. Haven't seen a bottle of this since I was last in Waterdeep.
 A humble vegetable depicted amongst such adventurous company? That is a turnip for the books.
 No obvious keyhole or mechanism. There must be some other way to unlock this.
 The sylvan pinions of an Avariel. No easy task to capture their holow delicacy in stone.
 Some tainted magic coats that door. Can't say I'm inclined to open it.
 That door reeks of necrotic magic. Perhaps it's best left closed for now.
 Burnt to a cinder. No trace of that jar remains.
 What are these? Costumes? Disguises?
 For a moment there, I'd swear I caught the stench of Auntie Ethel on the air...
 A hag's lair, I'd wager. Her rotten presence thickens the very air down here.
 Prisoners? This is what lies at the heart of Shar's church?
 'Sicarius' is their password? I'll hand it to these Bhaalists - they're definitely subtle.
 There, beneath the canvas. Looks like someone's stashed a note.
 Not blood... oil? What would leave such a trail?
 It's not so terrible... The smell's rather invigorating, once you're used to it.
 Let's hope the orb remains stable in the face of such explosive power.
 The corpse's head has been severed. That's one way to stop the dead spilling their secrets.
 A bloodied ring. Safe to say the killer isn't motivated by riches.
 My bladder control is exemplary, I'm afraid.
 Such crushing pressure... feels like my skull's about to cave in.
 A wychlaran face veil, worn by powerful witches in the Urlingwood wilds of Rashemen. The adornment of a skilled spell-weaver.
 A grim thing. It could wrench bone from a socket as easily as you'd pull a wing from a roast fowl.
 No press like excellent press. The editor's in for quite a shock tomorrow.
 Something just clicked up above. I wonder what?
 The disc shifted when I moved something from the altar - must be connected.
 Bloody necromancers. Can't leave any tome uncursed...
 Thayan glyphs. I'm a little rusty, but I think they speak of the Necromancy of Thay.
 |I think I read about them in a book before.|
 Looks like Nine-Fingers has an ambush planned at the Counting House, with the Stone Lord as her prey.
 Yurgir! I need an orthon's might in this battle.
 Lord Astarion, the armies of the undying must join this fight.
 My head's pounding like a war drum.
 Must be drawing close.
 Mizora. It's time these creatures paid a devil their dues.
 Nautiloid! Steer clear of its missiles!
 Hells. That looked... unpleasant.
 Zevlor! War summons you once again. Show me how you answer.
 High Hall's looking worse for wear. It won't be easy to reach the Nether Brain through this.
 We could try to avoid the worst of the mess. Or plough ahead, and enjoy the fireworks.
 Quietly does it. No need to attract unwanted attention.
 The moment has come. End the Netherbrain.
 This is our chance - farewell to the Netherbrain.
 A blast of Ironhand ingenuity will turn this tide. To me!
 My owlbear friend. Time for some of your fabled ferocity.
 Part of the Nether Brain's stem. A bit higher, and we should be able to climb it.
 We're short on options, I fear.
 The solution is clear, if repellent. We must assimilate Orpheus...
 Orpheus can't help us so long as he's chained.
 Time to loosen the chains of the githyanki prince, perhaps.
 I doubt we'll get much in the way of gratitude. Only one way to find out.
 In my name.
 Don't worry about me. I feel more powerful than ever.
 My work here is not done yet. I have greater ambitions I have yet to achieve.
 They fought well - their peace is well-deserved.
 Perhaps we'll be afforded the chance to avenge them.
 Baldur's Gate trembles. City Watch, come to her aid.
 I still have the orb. I don't need the stones to destroy the brain, and the crown with it.
 Very well. But when the brain is defeated, the stones return to me.
 Karlach, please... I'm not ready to go on without you.
 Ethel - to me. It's time you made good on our arrangement.
 Isobel - some healing, if you please.
 Harpers, stand with me. We defeat this evil together.
 A favour given is a favour owed. Lady Keene - time to repay your debt.
 It's time the Zhentarim earned their keep. Join me, Roah!
 The Crown lies ahead - we must dominate it. We must cast the spell again.
 The Crown lies ahead - now's our chance to dominate it! Cast the spell!
 The Netherbrain can only be dominated by an illithid. Time to use that tadpole the Emperor gave us.
 Dame Aylin. Your light must shatter this darkness.
 Rid of the Emperor's influence at last. What comes next, we decide.
 Rid of the Emperor's influence, but not the need for an illithid. We must use the tadpole.
 Ulma. Your Gur hunters will turn this tide. Join me.
 Ulma - I need the Gur's strength. Join me!
 Rolan! Unleash fire from the heavens.
 I feel more powerful than ever.
 No time to spare - a rift! Go inside its mind and destroy it from within!
 We can't confront the brain without all three stones.
 It must be around here somewhere.
 Not yet. We must climb higher still before ascending the stem.
 Steel Watch! Subdue these creatures. I command it.
 Guarded by some malicious aura. Need to dispell it to get past.
 Where did he go? And what did he put in my pocket?
 Blood spilled, the blacksmith vanished. This can't be good...
 Quick - find cover! It's priming for an attack!
 Sounds like someone's in pain. Beneath the windmill, if my ears don't betray me.
 The remains of a great dragon, but clearly not an immortal one.
 A fake. And a bloody poor one at that.
 Archduke Gortash? He does have a high opinion of himself. Better head for Wyrm's Rock.
 There's more to this chest than it appears - a false bottom.
 A lot of spilled blood. Perhaps this is where Father Lorgan met his demise.
 I'll wager this is what was used to kill Father Lorgan.
 Sealed shut from the other side. I wonder where it leads...
 No keyhole. Some other mechanism is keeping this locked.
 Quite a collection of art. A shame to keep them from the public eye.
 Proof that all that glitters is not, in fact, gold.
 What the devil? That was no killing blow!
 The Absolute was involved. I'm certain of it.
 Vanished to mist? I never heard of a vampire spawn doing that before...
 What a charming place. Not at all grim and perturbing.
 Danthelon's Dancing Axe. A Harper's home from home, according to Jaheira.
 That flowery motif - it's the same as on that strange key we found. Whatever it unlocks must be inside.
 Not to me to interfere in someone else's quarrel...
 Another flowery key. Is this one also from the flophouse?
 Barrels of tadpoles. I suspect there's a lot more of their vintage already in the city.
 Sounds magical - what say you, Gale?
 Ah, lanceboard! Why, this might just be the highlight of our misadventures to date.
 New city, same ox. Why does it haunt our every step?
 Illusory bricks? Someone's got something juicy to hide...
 This key... The dead shapeshifter back in the tunnels bore one just like it.
 I call on the Weave to subdue my enemies. It's effective, though hardly its loftiest application.
 Powerful, but responsible. To take a life is a grave matter, whether with good or ill intent.
 Hardly a course of action to relish. But were the straits dire enough... perhaps.
 That key from the shapeshifter - looks like it fits right here.
 The other part of that shattered ring from before. Reminds me of an epic tale I once heard... best fit this back together.
 What the devil? That was no killing blow! The Absolute did this.
 Organs in vials. Is it a requirement of evil to enjoy pickling body parts?
 Wise.
 Marvellous. But why hide such splendour away where none can admire it?
 Certainly looks like a crypt - now to hunt down Shirra Clarwen.
 Let's just say I'm here to leave my mark on the city. All will know of Gale of Waterdeep, soon enough.
 Your pigeons were eaten by a flying cat.
 Ah. I'm afraid my tressym is the enemy responsible.
 The circus has packed up. The show must not go on, apparently.
 Gale, you're good at tricks, right? Up you go.
 There's blood near the bed.
 Even the Harpers are compromised by the evils preying on the city. We should inform Jaheira - she'll not stand for this.
 Doubt me if you like, but I'd swear I saw that ship docked at Moonrise Towers.
 And did young Wyll ever catch anything?
 Ah, the traditional Baldur's Gate welcome. I wonder what time they serve breakfast.
 Better find a way out - I haven't come this far just to wind up in a cell.
 I should really have that amulet with me - the Mad Monk will want to see this.
 I'm still wholly in love with my lost lover...
 I'm rather out of practice with this whole bodily intimacy exercise, don't ask me to do any tricks.
 That hit the spot.
 What is that monstrosity?
 They can hear the tadpoles speak to them, and they think it's a new god.
 As long as we're possessed of our own free will, I venture to say there's hope for us yet.
 I have one endeavour too many to conduct tonight, although catching up would be a fine thing.
 Bah! A lamp without a djinni is like a sphinx without a riddle - always a disappointment.
 Empty.
 Please. Now's hardly the time.
 Which part of me is supposed to fit in there, exactly?
 Hmmm. Locked so tight, I shouldn't even bother to cast Knock.
 I'm far too big to get through there.
 There'll be nothing left of this ship soon. No time to slow down.
 It's purpose is served. Nothing left to transform.
 A short-lived alliance, apparently. Time to get to the Transponder.
 Ground's coming up fast - need to do something.
 Infernal alloy. I may just be able to put this to good use one day.
 No use.
 I need to get to that transponder.
 That dragon won't stop until the ship's destroyed. Me with it, if I don't hurry up.
 Strange. I hear voices...
 I hear nothing. A hallucination, perhaps?
 Chair, nautiloid, mind flayers - they're deeply interconnected. You're hearing what they hear.
 No sense eavesdropping further. We should go, and keep our heads down.
 The mind flayer's dead - good riddance.
 Hells, they've gone crazed. Because of the lever?
 Means nothing to me.
 Curious. I feel like a new man.
 No idea what this says.
 Where the blazes am I...?
 Best not linger here.
 Whatever this place is, I think I'll take my leave of it - right now.
 What's that commotion? Fighting?
 Locked tight.
 I haven't the foggiest, unfortunately.
 Dead. Serves you right for abducting me.
 Gods, it's horrifying... and a touch fascinating.
 Interesting. Let's find what this fits into.
 Interesting. This shape corresponds with the pod controls.
 This thing's plummeting fast - need to right it.
 That's them seen to. Onwards.
 Might as well be gibberish.
 Something could fit here, and it might restore power.
 Too late - they're already dead.
 A key. Looks to be a perfect fit for that chest.
 A key. Now to find somewhere to insert it.
 No use, sadly.
 The strangest dream. A relief to wake from it...
 Those runes look occult. I can probably read them, if you like?
 You can let me look or spend all night twisting yourself into knots. Your call.
 What the... Back off! And spit that out if you know what's good for you!
 You're a bloody vampire! But you bit off more than you can chew.
 You clearly have your secrets - I have mine.
 Let my blood be a warning to youthere's more to me than meets the eye. I am not for eating.
 For your referencebites hurt. Consider that a given.
 Then let my blood be a warning to youthere's more to me than meets the eye. I am not for eating.
 You bit me once - you won't fool me twice. This is where we part ways.
 It's powerful magic, not to be toyed with. I could take it off your hands.
 Go ahead. But be warned - you might bite off more than you can drink.
 You do realise these things grow, do you not? Teeth and talons first.
 Did you only train within the Tears?
 The Tears of Selûne, you mean?
 I once claimed to have read all six volumes of 'Lichen and Its Curative Properties' to impress a comely botanist. Alas, a falsehood.
 I'm afraid I'm doomed to repeat past mistakes, no matter how I try to avoid them.
 The hand that feeds is the hand that's loved. It'll never leave your side now.
 I stand corrected.
 Killing me would rather decrease your odds of survival. Dramatically, in fact.
 Should that happen, my advice would be to drop your weapon and run. Very, very fast.
 I'm afraid I'm deadly serious. Try it, and I'm taking everyone with me. Everyone.
 I'd rather hear a song about Mystra.
 Better to wait for Shadowheart. She'll want to hear this.
 This is Shadowheart's business. Best leave her to conduct it.
 I will teach her. I will help her channel the Weave.
 A curious device, certainly not powered by the Weave. I wonder, what's its purpose?
 I think it's best Shadowheart does the talking.
 Voss is headed to Sharess' Caress? Something more than the 'company' draws him there. When we reach the city, we should find out what.
 I am still ever-haunted by Mystra.
 A strange vista through that window... Unreachable from here, I'd surmise, but there must be another way down.
 There's something above. Moist and... organic. Ugh.
 Quite a view.
 It's no use. This army of the dead is an endless one.
 We can't beat them, and I sure as hell don't want to join them. Let's fall back.
 Filled to the top with tadpoles... Must be hundreds in there.
 Somehow I doubt they're being bred for their companionship.
 These parasites have some grim purpose to fulfil.
 Ketheric Thorm won't go down so easily. Best we ready ourselves - we're about to have quite the fight on our hands.
 Hmm... good back support, but a little too tyrannical for my tastes.
 Where Ketheric leads, we've no choice but to follow.
 Looks like this marks the base of Moonrise Towers.
 It's time. Destroy the ritual circle, Gale.
 I think you should forge the lantern, Gale.
 Erase the shadow sigils.
 It seemed Thorm's wife loved him deeply. Perhaps he was even a good man once...
 The stench, the filth... gods, what a horror to be imprisoned in such a place.
 If we plan to open the doors for these poor souls, we must do so quietly, or risk joining them.
 Its powers could prove useful. Especially if turned against Ketheric himself.
 First, we have to find it. And I suspect he keeps it very, very well hidden.
 This 'Nightsong' is the source of Ketheric's invulnerability.
 An evocative name. More suited to poetry than the Absolute's perversions.
 So, the 'Nightsong' is the source of Ketheric's invulnerability. Perhaps its powers could be turned against him.
 Something about taking on the apostle's form... Just what is Ketheric Thorm planning?
 Minthara's still locked in the cells below Moonrise. We should go back for her - she'd do the same for us. Probably.
 Hmm... that map had marked this spot.
 Well now, this torch seems to be in strict opposition to being doused.
 Must have been a wizard at work. I know a Continual Flame spell when I see one.
 A hasty burial is still a burial. A small mercy, but one these fallen would have been grateful for.
 Moonrise Towers lies ahead. I must keep going, however bleak the path.
 My. If I'm not mistaken, someone seems to have misplaced their femur.
 |Gale comment!|
 A withered creature, consumed by the shadow curse. A fate I hope we don't share.
 Shrouded in no ordinary shadows. What evil lurks within such darkness?
 Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We must venture on, however bleak the path.
 Look at that. In this light there is shelter from the shadows.
 Now to make use of that lantern.
 The site of no ordinary skirmish. This was once a battlefield, and a bloody one too, judging by the number of bodies.
 On seconds thoughts, might I have some of that ointment? One can never be too protected from evil curses, in my experience.
 A wise request, and a timely one. The ointment isn't protecting anyone if it isn't applied.
 Better to apply it now, than risking the path ahead without the ointment's protection.
 I'll take some, if there's any to spare. One can never be too protected against curses, I find.
 The ointment is there to be used. We should all share in its protection.
 I may join you. I'm not sure I want to brave what's ahead without the ointment's protection.
 Shar and Selûne are but two sides of the same coin. One's help is as good as the other's.
 Is that Rolan? Gods, his foolishness is enough to give wizards a bad name..
 Tracks of some sort. Looks like they lead downwards...
 Rest in peace, proud druid. What a pity his death means the Sharran curse will remain alive and well.
 Enemies popping up like weeds. Halsin better conclude his search very soon...
 The druid's return is imminent! Have to keep foes at bay until then!
 I'm Gale, and I find myself only moderately pleased to meet you.
 What light is that? A barrier to keep the shadows at bay?
 Hmmm, there seems to be some kind of document protruding from this gentleman's pantaloons.
 Looks like he was investigating the House of Healing. In search of what, I wonder.
 Ah, Rolan. Not the brightest decision to stride off into such darkness. He'll soon be extinguished.
 I'm almost certain I've seen that ox someplace before...
 If only the curse had taken all of the Absolute's followers - we'd claim two birds with one stone.
 The shadow curse is gathering its forces. Got to protect the portal.
 There he goes, into the Shadowfell. Let's hope his mind and body are up to the challenges that await in that fabled place.
 Even the githyanki's finest must have succumbed to the curse.
 Even Selûne's faithful are driven to the darkness in such a place.
 Far better to encourage such glimmers of light amongst the darkness. Who knows where they may lead?
 Well, that'll teach us never to judge an ox by its cover.
 This was one of those memorable encounters I'd love to forget.
 Well, that'll teach me never to judge an ox by its cover.
 Something ripped off Flaming First armour like you might peel an orange...
 What do we have here...?
 This tomb lies open and empty. Did anyone say 'undead'?
 These corpses are arranged with some artistic flair - if you're a madman, that is.
 That orthon shows some artistry in his corpse arrangements. I suppose he had time to kill...
 Balthazar. Ketheric Thorm's necromancer of choice. He must be close.
 Who knows what tricks he keeps up his rotten sleeve.
 Let's keep sharp.
 Quite a host of furry foes. There must be an end to them - have to keep fighting.
 Looks like something fits in here - but alas, I have nothing.
 This map shows a temple of Shar. Seems to highlight some great danger within.
 A spell to turn one into many. Could come in handy, especially when I get back to my reading list...
 What's that symbol I spy?
 That's Myrkul's symbol.
 The Weave here won't budge. Must be a powerful spell that keeps it in place.
 Balthazar's dead. Luckily he can't use his necromancy on himself.
 I feel lighter than a tressym's feather. Like I could fly away...
 It won't fight its allies? Just what I needed, a golem with principles.
 That did the trick.
 Damn - back to the beginning.
 Looks like some sort of... jar-grown lifeform?
 That disc will lead somewhere, I'll wager.
 But where exactly does it lead...?
 A masons' guild, it seems.
 I doubt anything's been chiselled here in a long time...
 A tollhouse. Must have collected a tidy sum, back in the day.
 Perhaps some of its earnings can still be found within.
 These shadows made her something worse than her vices. What would it make of us, if we stay here too long?
 Silks from Cormyr. Alas, pilfered.
 Cheese from the Dalelands. The rats must have feasted.
 Looks like these plaques make for a mechanism of sorts. I sense a secret.
 The gith knight's device has activated. What is it trying to tell us?
 Voss' psionic device is active... The gith queen's forces must be nearby.
 If you don't find solace at the bottom of a bottle, try a barrel, I suppose.
 This must be what remains of the lady who tried to blackmail the brewer. Put her into a barrel rather than over one, it seems.
 A distillery. A little premature for us to start celebrating, I suppose.
 Hmm. Smells like wanton days as a young scholar.
 It's stuck. Nothing for it but to stand my ground in battle.
 Sigils of some kind, though I'm not sure of their purpose...
 Protective charms, prayers... Left by Harpers, on the eve of battle.
 There's got to be another way in.
 A hospital. Doubt anyone's been healed around here in a long time...
 So, it seems the device was activated by the presence of those githyanki hunters. Rather handy, that.
 Voss spoke truly, both about the device, and Vlaakith's intentions. She is coming for us.
 Looks like a hospital. Or the remains of one.
 Should I be in need of medical treatment, please don't bring me here.
 Gems from Thay. Looks like the looters were less than thorough...
 A masons' guild. Nobody's done any stonework here in a while...
 Blocked from the other side.
 That gasbag is three sheets to the wind - can it even feel pain?
 There's significantly less dust on the leftmost door. Recently opened and closed, I think.
 Protective charms. And prayers, written by ... Harpers before attacking their enemies.
 Worthless. You'd find more value in an adolescent boy's spent handkerchief.
 A distillery. Wonder if any tipple's survived.
 A man to be pitied, for all the bile he had in life. His was a lonely end, made a monster by these shadows.
 I'm not doctor, but I'd say that's terminal.
 Killed by his own nurses. Not a treatment I'd be eager to sign up for.
 Nothing like giving someone a taste of their own medicine.
 A tollhouse. All passing trade would have paid their way - once.
 What's this place? It's been spared the shadow curse...
 A fleet of nautiloids... I dread to think how many True Souls that equates to.
 Now here's a strange little tadpole. It's like it's calling to me...
 Nothing can harm Ketheric as long as Nightsong is caged.
 Nothing too taxing. Now, let's see what was so worth such protection...
 No joy. Should I be using something else?
 To stand on the shores of this sea of gore... It's enough to drive one mercifully insane.
 I suppose a lake of blood counts as rustic in this illithid hell.
 Funny you say that. My place is right here, and my 'bright flash' could be the last thing you see...
 A cambion. Do the Hells themselves answer the Absolute's call?
 Overly optimistic to hope there were never any tadpoles here? Thought as much.
 Not a tadpole to be seen. What have they done with them?
 Strange - they're leaving us be. Do they think we're one of them?
 An elder brain... That was the Heart of the Absolute?
 Controlling an elder brain... Such power.
 Ow! Feels like being siphoned, and painfully too.
 The elevation device is already in place. All I have to do is hop on.
 Oh joy. Leftovers from Moonrise Towers.
 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.
 One last gust of Weave. One last gale to end them all.
 Baldur's Gate lies ahead. A one way journey, for now - better tie up our loose ends before we depart.
 The road to Baldur's Gate lies west of Reithwin. Our quickest route, if we can stay ahead of the Absolute' forces.
 Bound with the bedrock of the Astral Plane itself. No ordinary magic will sever such ties.
 I feel my bedroll calling. Time for some well earned sleep. Dreamless, preferably.
 Those chains don't just bind him - they protect him. He's invulnerable.
 I've witnessed the Heart of the Absolute. I'm going the learn the secrets of that crown…
 Those demonic figures we saw were githyanki, then. Barely recognisable.
 A Guardian of Faith spell. Strong is its faith indeed to linger still in these ancient halls.
 Looks like just any old weapon will suffice.
 Undead trampled to dust. Their dusk is as eternal as Lathander's dawn.
 What's that ghastly sound? Almost sounds like weeping.
 Lathander, I do believe. God of the dawning sun.
 Safety's within reach. Just a little further.
 That was too close a call for comfort. The sooner I see this place on the horizon, the better.
 Ugh, a screech to shred the strongest ear drum. It's calling for help!
 I can smell the alcohol on their breath from here. Drunk and flammable - what a combination.
 An exceedingly close shave. The entire place was nearly destroyed.
 That could have ended very poorly.
 If I have any choice as to where I die, I'd rather it not be in the bowels of a ruined monastery.
 A little more care and attention may stand to us in future, I think.
 Who gives a fig? We stopped it - that's all that counts.
 That bridge has long been collapsed. If only we'd arrived a few centuries earlier.
 Hells in a handbasket, I need to get down from here!
 Remarkably well preserved. A little glimpse into the past.
 That 'blood' rings a bell - still to be found somewhere, perhaps?
 Seems the githyanki came to blows with the cultists. Let's hope they keep each other busy.
 Gremishkas? They're no lovers of magic - better watch where I cast.
 Hmm. Seems a touch... underwhelming.
 The weapon's stopped glowing. Curious.
 I need to get off this roof, and I better not dawdle either.
 That thing is about to blow!
 That contraption is going to explode before I do. Away from here!
 So they kept the 'Blood of Lathander' here? Easy pickings.
 Nothing left but rubble. Thank Mystra I'm not buried under it.
 Better to be stood here than buried beneath a thousand tonnes of Trielta limestone.
 Well. I think it's safe to say we made quite an impact on that monastery.
 I hope we don't plan to destroy any further historic landmarks. One is quite enough for me.
 Tightly guarded treasure. Looks powerful, too.
 Someone was exceedingly protective of what was kept in here.
 The tighter the security, the juicier the prize.
 Looks powerful - perhaps they were wise to take extreme measures.
 Better eschew magic with these creatures.
 Nothing like a secret door to pique one's interest.
 There's no sharper foe than an ambitious student. Keep eyes on teacher and pupils alike.
 Damn, nearly had it.
 Mystra's dimples! What's that?!
 That's what was in there? Those little privy rags were tormenting it.
 Not sure a real mind flayer would accept such punishment.
 Less rules, more doctrine. Hard to disobey such a stern mandate.
 A well-equipped laboratory. This is a place for rigorous study, though I hesitate to ask of what.
 Won't budge.
 Locked in. That doesn't bode well.
 A map of the Sword Coast. Whatever these githyanki are planning, Baldur's Gate lies at the heart...
 Barrier's already deactivated. Now there's a stroke of luck.
 Not the comfiest of dormitories. The githyanki must consider sleep quite the luxury.
 Apples? Not the bloodthirsty fare I expected to see in such a place.
 That's the rank and file dealt with. Let's hope her commander is more amenable.
 Nothing.
 That odour's left me feeling decidedly wobbly.
 By Mystra's mantle, what a smell. Something strange is in the air...
 Tell me, what have you learned?
 A curious sensation...
 Interlocking circles with moons and stars... That Selûnite's journal made mention of such a seal.
 Let's investigate, shall we?
 Well, down it is, I suppose...
 A scrying eye. Better be on our best behaviour - until we're out of sight, that is.
 Now that's... dedication?
 How the mighty have fallen.
 Well done. I doubt anyone will mourn this wicked mouthpiece of the Absolute.
 No getting through. More's the pity.
 Blocked. Nothing a quick blast of magic won't clear.
 All's well with the world one might argue. And yet there's something unsettling about witnessing an execution - no?
 No one will mourn this goblin, I suppose. Let's leave it at that.
 The goblin may yet prove her worth. Necessity has bred stranger bed fellows.
 Far be it from me to second-guess your decisions, but I'm not entirely convinced setting that scamp of a goblin free was the wisest of ideas.
 Live by the sword, die by the spell - that's what I always say.
 Quite the fortifications for a wandering band of goblins to try and breach. What drove them to it, I wonder?
 A taste of goblins to come, I fear. There must be a horde nearby.
 If the errors of youth deserve an early grave, none of us would live to see a dozen summers. There is no justification for this tragedy.
 This place is a snake pit in more ways than one. That poor girl... Such sudden madness...
 A prudent reaction, if somewhat lacking in curiosity.
 These tadpoles are no ordinary ailment. It might be wiser to keep the specifics to ourselves.
 To seek some goblin priestess' help would be unconventional to say the least.
 If this priestess is indeed a master in the arts of booyahg, it's not inconceivable she could be of help to us.
 I'm not sure I care for the way that ox is looking at me...
 Tell him how you got involved with an angry Netherese orb.
 Useless. Like hewing granite with a spoon.
 Druid magic. Better tread carefully.
 That drow's seen better days.
 Notice the tadpole too - in that jar over there.
 And yet it's that statue that commands all attention.
 Speaks volumes as to the owner of the place.
 I doubt a simple potion will suffice. This problem calls for strong magic.
 It would be a grave mistake, were you to lie to the great Gale of Waterdeep...
 The antidote's working. Gods, that was too close a call.
 Magic can cure me if you can't. I know the Weave well!
 This Halsin sounds like a knowledgeable man. He studied illithid tadpoles in great detail.
 Just the sort of chap to have a chat with, I reckon.
 This Halsin sounds like a knowledgeable man. He may just be able to cure us.
 We know the man. We know the mission. Let's go find him.
 Let's be optimistic and assume he's still among the living.
 Speculation will get us nowhere. Let's go find him.
 So we're in Elturgard. That means Baldur's Gate lies west - rather far west even.
 Those symbols show where gnolls and goblins were sighted. Plenty of trouble along the way.
 Goblin tracks. And far too many of them too.
 Something's... off about that mushroom. Best keep my distance.
 There's a mark on that tree. How... intriguing.
 A marked tree. Could be the one Kagha mentioned in her correspondence.
 I have to say I don't know if agreeing to this hunt was such a wise idea.
 Who's to say who's the real villain in this tale of devils and masquerades?
 Hot to the touch. The dragon's breath still lingers on this shield.
 When it comes down to man versus dragon, the result tends to be predictable.
 Still hot to the touch. When it comes down to man versus dragon, the result tends to be predictable.
 These bones speak of some old, long-forgotten tragedy.
 Harper insignia; druidic markings - they must have fell as allies.
 Their equipment doesn't seem to be worse for wear though, even after all this time.
 These bones speak of some old tragedy. Harper insignia; druidic markings - they must have fell as allies.
 These bones speak of some old, long-forgotten tragedy. Their equipment doesn't seem to be worse for wear though...
 So much for the miracle of childbirth...
 Let's not stand around. Predators like these can smell spilled blood a mile away.
 This place runs rife with gnolls.
 I had no idea this was their mating season.
 Let's not stand around. They can smell spilled blood a mile away.
 Lae'zel was left behind. It doesn't feel right to abandon her.
 Lae'zel's one of us now. It doesn't feel right to abandon her.
 So much for the law of the land...
 Look at that - rock gouged like it was nothing.
 Dragon claws. Nothing else could do that, surely.
 What the hells could do that...?
 Something gouged that rock like it was meringue.
 My word, a red dragon. Majestic. And malignant.
 We stand no chance against such a foe. We should get out of sight!
 I suggest we admire it from afar.
 A red dragon! Gods, it must have followed us from Avernus!
 An illusory wall. Let's find out what it seeks to hide.
 That door is like a cork. Pop it and we'll be served a firestorm.
 This is a sign to nowhere now. Only scorched earth ahead.
 Well now - a little spectacle never hurts.
 This place looks like a battlefield.
 That hyena will be back. And it won't be alone.
 She was dangerous, but I respected her passion and ambition. Her kin have done themselves a disservice.
 A campsite. Nobody's home, though.
 Drow slaughtered like chickens in a butcher shop. Somebody's making a statement.
 Can't trust one's eyes in the Underdark. Can't trust these mushrooms either.
 What's that down there? A temple? A palace? What a pity it's so hopelessly out of reach...
 Not much to be seen.
 There's danger underfoot. Best be on our guard.
 My advice would be care and caution.
 Fascinating architecture. Doesn't match the style of any Underdark civilisation that I know of.
 Say - there's something down there!
 I'd take a step back if I were you. Never trust a pit in the Underdark.
 A gaping black hole. Not exactly inviting.
 Look at thatit transformed. Wonder what else it can change.
 What interesting tableaus - clearly ancient too. Lolth's violent descent into the Underdark depicted with vivid detail.
 What interesting tableaus - clearly ancient too. Driders, mind flayers... Must depict some ancient battle.
 A battleground. There are duergar and myconids among the dead.
 Time has rid these weapons of their bite. Must have taken decades.
 Out of the black and into the wetlands. Quite an improvement.
 Out of the black and into the bog. Hardly an improvement.
 What's that?
 The heat's going from balmy to sweltering. The forge must be nearby.
 Indeed. These creatures are mightier than they look.
 Yes. Myconids are more powerful than you realise.
 I read about myconids and the manifold properties of their spores. That duergar is about to rise - undead.
 Lolth-sworn drow passed by here, but it seems they never returned. Finders, keepers, I say.
 These aren't statues. These are petrified drow!
 An earthquake down in the Underdark. The stuff of nightmares.
 There's danger underfoot. Best be on my guard.
 In case you were wonderingit's calling the rest of its pack!
 And so I'm back in the swamp. If only I could actually pick a destination.
 The mark of the Zhentarim. Bound to be more to this place than meets the eye.
 New colours, new destinations perhaps?
 So this chest contains a field of transformative Weave. Delightful.
 That's a sussur tree! These things drain away one's magic - shouldn't linger here.
 I had better watch your back then.
 Don't worry - I've got your back.
 By Mystra, what are these accursed flowers? I can feel my magic ebbing away.
 Well, well, well. This ring is yielding secrets.
 Here dwelt a man blessed with impeccable taste in literature.
 Ancient dead rife with shadows. This must be the stronghold Halsin spoke of.
 Hook horrors! Classificationmonstrosity. Social behaviourkills on sight.
 The forge is not working as it should. I must be missing some crucial ingredient.
 Any forging efforts will be in vain until I add lava into the mix.
 Out of the fire... guess that makes me the frying pan.
 A shout for help reverberating through the Underdark. That's going to attract the wrong crowd.
 Ha! That'll knock the wind out of it!
 Mephits! Now it really is a party.
 Scorch marks. Hints of Weave too. There might just be trouble afoot.
 And so we descend into... more madness presumably.
 This blasted hammer has no effect! But it has to - somehow!
 Filled to the brim.
 There's no illusion without a reason to elude. Now to find the reason.
 Always a pleasure to meet a fellow academic. And what a subject - this place brims with history.
 It would have been quite something in its heyday. But even now, it has much to teach us.
 Spores that can raise the dead... These myconids certainly are fascinating creatures.
 In such environs, their efficiency is to be admired. Nothing goes to waste.
 Gods - this is pure shadow magic. To be one with the darkness and see.
 Glut's ambition comes full circlefrom foolish inception to foolish demise.
 A petty kingdom undone, already lost to history.
 According to that letter, the Harper stash should be hidden close by.
 There are some markings on the ground here - not that they tell me much.
 Those are footprints. Let's see where they lead.
 My cares are none of your concern.
 I'm not here to judge.
 Steady... This thing looks more brittle than Szass Tam's bones.
 He tried to outrun the furies of hell. Looks like he hit a dead end.
 Glut's ambition comes full circlefrom foolish inception to foolish demise. Good riddance.
 An ogre and a bugbear... A torrid tryst indeed.
 One moment they were embracing each other in intimacy, the next they're embracing only death.
 A goblin patrol, looks like. The beasts.
 She put up a fight, at least. A brave effort.
 She took a few goblins with her, at least. A brave effort.
 Coming-of-age rites for children born into worship of Selûne. A touch drastic, no?
 I have to say, it's one thing to have a parasite in your head, quite another not to know it's there.
 I wish mine would give up so easily. Though without requiring such extreme motivation, of course.
 I'd see a wizard tower. A safe haven for me and a sweetheart - forever.
 I'd see myself in my next incarnationa living manifestation of Netherese magic. A mythal in my own right.
 I'd see my rivals humbled - jealous of my mastery of the Weave.
 Balsam disinfects wounds. Surely everyone knows that?
 Actually, Szass Tam isn't a zulkir - he rules as High Regent now.
 Sniff the mirror, trying to understand the nature of its magic.
 We woke something. Most likely not from a beauty sleep.
 Sorry, but that book is spoken for - by me.
 It's a barbarian act to destroy a book!
 There's something ominous about such depths. I wonder how deep it goes.
 Movement on the roofs. I sense a classic ambush in the making.
 Well, well! Come for the words, stay for the wine. The owner of this tome must have been quite the jolly fellow.
 I suppose there are worse surprises to be found inside some books.
 Weapon diagrams. Some blacksmith's passion project from the looks of it.
 These designs are unfinished. Rough drafts, no more.
 Weapon diagrams. Our friendly neighbourhood blacksmith has been busy.
 Conspicuous absence of sussur bark in these particular diagrams though.
 A hidden laboratory full of abandoned experiments. Colour me in my element.
 This forge is very old, but it still looks functional enough.
 The forge is ready. Now but to forge.
 Hmmm. Can't forge without a fire.
 I have all the required materials, but I need to fire up the forge first.
 I still lack the necessary sussur bark.
 Doesn't budge. Maybe the mechanism's broken.
 A chained-up book in a long-abandoned temple. Temptation, old friend, we meet again.
 Never seen a coin like this before. Most peculiar.
 Quite something, to hold the cosmos in your hands...
 I feel... emptied. Like I've lost something important...
 That feeling again - my oath. It's broken.
 Hi there, fella. I think I'll call you Giacomo.
 Must have been pretty young when it was killed, this cave bear. Rather sad, really.
 Sword-carrying scribes... What was so subversive about their words that they commanded protection?
 Gods, this stench of death is overpowering.
 Keep your guard up. When the stench of death hangs in the air, a killer is near.
 Blood... I don't like where this is going.
 This is the work of redcaps - vicious by nature. They could already be hunting us...
 I don't recognise these claw marks, but they're telling enough in their own right.
 He doesn't see the future, only the nightmares we think the future may hold.
 I say he doesn't see the future, only the nightmares we think the future may hold.
 He doesn't see the future, only the nightmares we think the future may hold. I hope.
 My word, this is a place where nightmares come to die.
 The hag's handiwork - a depraved competition in viciousness.
 No one's attacking me, eh? This mask is certainly doing the trick.
 He just... died on the spot.
 Another one of auntie's victims.
 Not quite the outcome intended, but I must say - the technique was excellent.
 A pity - he's beyond even the power of the Weave to help now.
 That was a sudden exit from the stage. Can't help but wonder where she's gone.
 We've got auntie on the run, but I'm sure she still has a few tricks up her sleeve.
 I'm Gale. Delighted to make your acquaintance.
 Our guide suffered a harder landing than we did.
 Approach with extreme caution. An injured mind flayer is still a dangerous one.
 Intellect devourers. A thinking man's worst nightmare.
 A mighty river. There's bound to be settlements along its shores.
 These fellows fought to the last. Between fight or flight, they picked the wrong response.
 Amid all this grandeur sunk into squalor, I wonder what dismal corner we'll find Halsin in.
 We should make haste. This place is making me feel stupider by the second. I mean,more stupid.
 Netherese. A portentous word. Combine it with mind flayers, and it's... unspeakable.
 The parasite is somehow infused with Netherese magic - more powerful, more sinister than it has any right to be. We must find out how.
 You know, I think there's a little something more to Ethel than meets the eye.
 'Hag' is the word they used. If that's what she really is, she's beyond dangerous.
 Another mimic! You'd think I'd get better at spotting the damned things.
 Gah! That's a frightful amount of teeth where there shouldn't be any.
 Really?
 Now's not the right time for that.
 Hmmm. Maybe later.
 No. I'll have to try again later.
 I can't use this at the moment.