The Once and Future Champion (Baldur's Gate 3/Dragon Age) (Complete)

[DIT_grue]

Spoiler: Suggestions

We arrived on the top of a low promontory in the Upper City, with a panaromic view of the entire city. An entire block of the Upper City immediately below us lay shattered and burning, with a gaping crack in the earth showing where the Netherbrain had torn its way out of the caverns below by force. There were scattered fires raging all across town as far away as the walls of the Outer City, and the din of battle and distant screams came to our ears. An illithid nautiloid floated arrogantly in the sky over the Upper City, its arcane energy blasts firing wildly at several swooping red dragons begin ridden by githyanki knights. I could just recognize one of them as a dragon I'd seen before - Qudenos, the dragon companion ridden by Kith'rak Voss.

Click to shrink...

panoramic
being

We all broke into a frantic run, trying to reach the entrance of the High Hall and the shattering troops before the forces of the Absolute could consolidate their victory and close the gates on us. We'd never have the chance to retake the palace by siege if we lost even this initial beachhead. But we were just too far away. We could see several illithids arrogantly floating down the street, with a phalanx of orcs and cultists advancing triumphantly behind them, and a scattered platoon of the Upper City Watch fleeing towards us down the avenue. By the time we could even get there, they'd

Click to shrink...

This last sentence needs to end in a dash, so that readers can parse that Hawke's viewpoint is being abruptly broken off (as opposed to being an authorial error) without having to fall out of the story, evaluate the context, and reason it through.

"Everyone." the Grand Duke's voice rang out, calling the meeting to order. Everybody else had apparently finished making introductions while we'd been talking. "Our city lies at the brink of peril, but we are not yet lost. Some of us know each other well indeed, some of us are strangers. Some of us have saved this city before-" He nodded to Jaheira and Minsc, both already legends of Baldur's Gate. "And some of us are new to our shores." He nodded to me and Orpheus. "But some of us... have not risen to the needs of the hour." he trailed off sadly. "Enver Gortash, so-called 'Archduke', was in truth a traitor to the city and now lies dead at the hands of these brave souls. His accession to power was illegal, the votes that raised him to his station having been secured not by rightful will but by the subversion and coercion of the Council... including myself. I had - I still have - one of those damned tadpoles in my brain. It's effect has been suppressed for now, but everything that has left my mouth between my return to this city and this morning has been nothing but the puppet-speech of that damned elder brain. I understand that you will all need time to regain trust in my judgment... hells, I'm going to need time to do that! But we don't have time, and so this is my proclamation." He reached out and put a hand on Wyll's shoulder. "This is Wyll Ravengard, my firstborn and trueborn son and heir. Yes, I know he looks different." he laughed briefly at the expressions of some people around the table. "Trust me, that one's a tale and a half in the telling! But this is my son, and my original banishment of him was also my error - brought about because I believed lies that I'd been fed, and because Wyll had been rendered helpless to speak the truth in his own defense. And so I reverse that banishment and claim him as my heir yet again. I will fight in Baldur's Gate's defense today, but until certainty has been reestablished I cannot command in this uncertain a moment. For today, Wyll will lead the forces of House Ravengard and all those formally sworn to my banner in my stead."

Click to shrink...

Its

"A plan." I immediately replied. "All right, for those who aren't already aware, the elder brain's power is being augmented and focused through a particular artifact that it's wearing. We've got the key to neutralizing that artifact, and we need to get that key - and at least one of my immediate party still alive to wield it - up to the top of the High Hall and in immediate contact with the brain. So that is the primary mission and ultimately the only mission. We get these to the artifact." I held up the Netherstones for everyone to see. "We take out the artifact, and we win. If we can't do that, then we still need to get our archmage into position up there and he'll detonate our fallback position." I nodded to Gale. "That will also destroy the brain... but also the High Hall and a good chunk of the Upper City, including us. That's why it's plan B." I joked roughly. "But to set the stakes here, I want everyone to understand. This thing's goal isn't just conquest - it's to turn everyone into the city that it can into a mind flayer and kill everyone and everything else, then keep expanding out to do the same thing to the entire world - and every other world it can reach from there." I exhaled heavily. "Prince Orpheus has spent enough time in the deep astral to still have memories of the original githyanki rebellion against the ancient illithid empire. He's seen elder brains destroy worlds before."

Click to shrink...

in

"Exactly. And Orpheus and I take our team through the underground route. We've got three possible places to come up in, some of which the first two columns might already have secured from their end if they succeed in breaking through. And the brain will have had an entire battlefield full of everything going wrong from your two lines of advance to react to... plus Voss' ongoing harassment from the air. As well him making outright feints directly at the brain, if you think you can pull that off without getting your people killed." I nodded to him. "Rolan, get together with Gale and have him quickly run you through the notes he took from Balthazar's research. That and Lorroakan's own work is all you'll have to go on regarding the tranference circle setup... and we'll need you to have that ready and waiting for Aylin as soon as possible, because our time window for the final push is going to be as limited as it can possibly get."

Click to shrink...

well as him

 

[cliffc999]

Dame Aylin went to one knee in prayer, as the defenders of Baldur's Gate formed ranks behind her. The main courtyard of the High Hall lay in front of them, with hundreds of the Absolute's troops captained by over a dozen veteran illithids between them and the stairways leading up to the Hall's roof and the hovering Netherbrain. Cultists, orcs, ogres, and undead snarled and glared from behind their battlements and hasty fortifications.

"Why aren't they attacking?" Captain Winterblood asked. "If they'd made a serious push while we were still busy planning and organizing-"

"The Netherbrain knows that the only thing it needs to win is time." Jaheira said flatly. "If we cannot reach the Crown and kill it with the Netherstones soon then its victory is inevitable. Between the tadpoles and the Death Shepherds it can almost immediately recycle every casualty in the city into new troops, and we cannot. The only possibilities it is even faintly worried about are the Netherstones and the Orb… and the best way it has of finding either is to wait for us to bring them to it. So it stands on the defensive and maximizes its advantages."

"But it's going to find out that it very much underestimated us." Hawke agreed resolutely. "Everything's in position?"

"Damn right it is." Wyll agreed.

The nervous rustling and murmur of the troops – as well as the wary glances being cast aside at Yurgir and his squad of merregons, who were standing discreetly away on the far left flank of the formation – faded away as the daylit air suddenly rippled with a subliminal touch of silver light, and a faint singing whispered at the edges of audibility. Gasps rang out as four gleams of silver light materialized hovering in the air in front of the formation, their brilliant winged silhouettes fading away to reveal faceless helmed warrior-angels in silver armor, as if Aylin had somehow materialized solidified yet still spiritual copies of herself. Everyone could feel the troops firm their stance and strengthen their hearts as they all witnessed tangible proof that the heavens were indeed blessing them.

"Moonlight Slivers." Isobel said reverently. "Virtuous warrior-spirits of the blessed dead, temporarily returned to the mortal plane by Selune's will. Even I've never seen Aylin summon them before."

"The need was never this great before." Aylin nodded soberly as she regained her feet and breathed heavily with the effort, while the Moonlight Slivers silently flew into position evenly spaced across the front line of the main attack force. "I have now channeled as much power as I can and that Mother is permitted to lend me. This much and my own strength and skill at arms are all that I can provide."

"It's time." Hawke commanded. "Tunnel team, on me. Wyll, Jaheira, give us two minutes and then start the main attack."

Jaheira and her Harper commandoes drew up and trotted to join Yurgir on the left flank without another word. "Form up!" Wyll bellowed, and all of the remaining commanders left to rejoin their units as the temple forces, military detachments, and freeswords shook out into three detachments and prepared for a pincer assault on the main courtyard. Hawke, Orpheus, and their teams used the cover and the confusion to discreetly withdraw and head for the drainage tunnel outflow that would be their route to get under the High Hall and come up from within.

"Now!" called a dozen throats, and the Absolute's defenders set their weapons to receive the charge as everyone surged forward. Aylin and the Moonlight Slivers were less than a spear-length over the heads of the charging men as they flew out ahead in a brilliant line, acting as living beacons for the troops to follow and drawing missile fire from the defenders on the walls. The arrows and bolts whistled past the agile celestials as they nimbly weaved and rolled in mid-air, and then their flying charge slammed into the archers on top of the walls and tore gaps in their line as they were toppled back into the courtyard below. The celestials immediately wheeled about and reformed into a flying squad, swooping back to throw holy fire down on the heads of the large knot of troops ready to reinforce the gate against rams or breaches-

-and diverting the courtyard's defenders from the actual main thrust of the attack, which was being led by the Lathanderite forces against the right facing wall. With the blazing beacon of the Blood of Lathander to obscure the vision of the archers there, several gnomish sappers from both the Ironhand gnomes that had rejected Wulbren's blood-mad vision to answer the call for aid at the end and from the rescued Gondians laid runepowder charges against the base of the wall and blew a hole open wide enough to fit a dozen men through abreast. The Absolute's ground-fighters reeled as they realized that they'd concentrated their forces in the wrong place – an entire column of attackers was now coming around on their flank while they still had an entire squad of nigh-unkillable celestials tearing into their ranks, and yet more men rushing to set hasty scaling ladders against the other wall now that the entire tempo of the courtyard battle was shifting to the right. Their problem only became worse when Aylin nodded to her Slivers to watch her back and then flew up to the windlass for the portcullis, and with superhuman strength began to single-handedly raise the entire structure and open the main gate for yet a third column to attack.

"We're pushing them back! Go, go, go!" Wyll called joyously as he and his father led the charge through the main gate side-by-side and the blood of almost a hundred Absolute cultists was already soaking the ground. Another horde of them was coming out of the High Hall and adjoining buildings, boiling forth like ants, but the first major defensive barrier had already been surmounted.

As the grand melee in the courtyard surged higher and higher Dawnmaster Arkhold and High Initiate Isobel fought side-by-side as the religious orders went straight for the Myrkulite cultists and their accompanying Death Shepherds. A strong rally by the Myrkulites in the face of this new threat only gave them more targets, as the Dawnmaster gleefully used the Blood's daily casting of Sunbeam to immolate almost half a dozen Death Shepherds when they'd made the mistake of clumping too close together. Several cult assassins using invisibility attempted to use that moment of distraction to backstab the two senior clerics, only to fail as Astarion's vampiric senses detected them in time to call out a warning. With the stealth of their approach ruined, they had little chance.

Isobel looked up from where a Moonlight Sliver had just 'coincidentally' been nearby to help strike down one of the assassins that had almost gotten close enough to backstab her while she'd been busy impaling a Death Shepherd and rolled her eyes at Aylin as she soared overhead. Aylin laughed unashamedly in response as their eyes met during this fleeting moment in mid-battle and then she continued her dive and killed another mind flayer as it commanded 'safely' from behind the enemy lines. Their byplay was cut off as the Flaming Fist and the Upper City Watch surged forward, the normal interservice rivalry between them entirely absent as their men interchangeably fought side-by-side, forming ranks whenever pressed hard and scattering into small detachments to pursue and harry the Absolutists whenever they broke.

An entire squad of ogres was revealed as they came out the front doors of the High Hall proper and formed up for a charge, with at least two platoons' worth of hobgoblin infantry behind them. The strategy was clear - their elite shocktroops would charge and break up the formation of the advancing Baldurians, and once their cohesion and momentum were disrupted all the other troops would counterattack.

"Marking target! Everyone fall back!" Councilor Florrick called, and her Dancing Lights spell erupted over the heads of the ogres, shining forth a brilliant pattern in blue and purple. Barely ten seconds later, an arcane artillery strike came flying down out of the sky from Ramazith's Tower as the onetime-apprentice Rolan worked the controls of the arcane defenses on the ancient archmage's flying home. The giant bolt of magical energy vaporized all but one of the ogres in a single shot, and the hobgoblins stopped in fear and confusion.

"Hellriders! Follow me!" Zevlor bellowed, and the tieflings surged forward with their armor brilliantly shining. Elturel's expulsion of all tieflings from their city post-Descent had left a nontrivial percentage of their elite military forces out of work and dispossessed, and since his arrival at Baldur's Gate Zevlor had spent days tracking down and rounding up every ex-comrade he could find. "The devils of the Hells themselves fell before us, and so shall this rabble!" The onetime elites of Baldur's Gate neighbor city had been held back from the brunt of the battle so far precisely so that one of the most veteran units would still be fresh when it came time to assault the innermost defensive line, and today they proved their worth yet again.

"Movement on the inner walls!" Captain Winterblood shouted. "If they get archers up there-"

"No worries!" Mol's voice surprised him as he turned to see the young tiefling lurking nearby, her size and stealth having gotten her detailed as a message-runner between battlefield commanders. "We've got people handling it!"

The crossbow-armed orcs frantically rushing out of the High Hall's inner buildings to try and set up to pour massed missile fire down into the courtyard melee suddenly screamed in pain and fell, toppling over each other as their lead elements stepped on the caltrops that had hastily been thrown to scatter on the approaches. The prone orcs looked up just in time to see Nine-Fingers and her rogues reveal themselves from where they'd climbed the walls and hidden behind and between the battlement merlons to ambush any late-arriving defenders, and were mercilessly hamstrung and butchered where they lay before they could even regain their feet. Nine-Fingers stood and struck the igniter on an alchemical torch, its brilliant blue flame shining out to signal to the rest of the battlefield that that particular section of the inner walls had been secured.

From the courtyard below, Wyll nodded at the signal and at a murmured word of advice from his father started issuing deployment orders to the freeswords to start a sweeping maneuver to take advantage of the lack of missile fire from that particular quarter. He then paused to survey the battlefield and looked up with a frown. Several eldritch blasts of his own fired into the air, in a prearranged sequence, served as a signal to call one of his allies over to speak with him.

"Aylin! Get your unit topside and back up Voss and his dragon-riders! You're the only other people we've got who can fly, and another nautiloid just arrived!" Wyll called out to her.

"Aye!" she agreed, and four winged figures shot into the sky as if they'd been fired from ballistas. The earth fell away rapidly beneath them as the twisting serpentine forms of the red dragons being ridden by githyanki knights loomed larger and larger. The pair of illithid nautiloids were almost a thousand feet in the air over the High Hall, continually trying to force themselves lower but being driven back by relentless strafing runs from the dragons.

Kith'rak Voss turned his head from where he sat solidly astride the racing Qudenos to see Aylin effortlessly matching pace alongside him, with Lae'zel riding immediately behind him in the passenger saddle. "We were making headway against the one, but now it has a partner!" he wasted no time in informing her. "We have a great deal of experience in dealing with nautiloids in aerial combat, but unfortunately that goes both ways. If we try to close in and slug it out then we're sitting ducks for their cannons, and I don't have enough dragonriders to split their fire enough to make it a viable tactic so long as both of those nautiloids can support each other."

"And the dragons cannot inflict enough damage to kill a nautiloid unless they close in to point-blank range, given the thickness of their armor." Lae'zel followed up.

Aylin nodded. "You cannot close to contact – but neither can you let up on the nautiloids, or else those nautiloids will be able to descend to where their psionic cannons can pinpoint ground targets and massacre our entire infantry element. But this is a problem we can solve. Their gunners still need their heads on their necks in order to operate their weapons, and we are far smaller and more agile targets than your dragons are. Form your squadron up and make ready to attack the nautiloid on the left – we'll lead your strike in and neutralize the cannons to leave it wide open for you. Then we repeat the process on the other one."

"H'taka!" Voss answered her joyously, and the githyanki and the celestials both stooped to the attack. Aylin and her spirit-warriors weaved easily through the powerful yet slow fire of the githyanki cannons, whose fire immediately ceased when they landed on the open deck of the nautiloid and began cleaving through the gunnery crews. After their strike they took wing again, soaring clear just as Voss and his fellow dragon-riders swooped down and unleashed the plasma-hot breath of their red dragons into the nautiloid all at point-blank range. Cored through in almost half a dozen places and with every illithid on the bridge incinerated by Qudenos' breath directly through the bridge windows, the nautiloid burst into flames at every seam and fell writhing out of the sky and into the bay. Its partner nautiloid rapidly succumbed to the same combined-arms tactic, and with the sky clear of everything save the hovering Netherbrain itself the dragons and the celestials folded their wings and all dived earthward, eager to rejoin the main battle and help the assault break through the final defensive lines with their air support. As they descended to ground level they noted in passing that the secondary attack on the hillside route had progressed almost three-quarters of the way to the end, but as the troops there did not appear to be in any distress and the terrain was so narrow there that it would be difficult to deliver airstrikes without hitting friendlies, they continued back towards the main battle.

Jaheira's Harpers had taken several casualties from the traps and ambushes that the illithid forces had laid, some of which had taken ruthless advantage of the fact that illithids could levitate and were thus not remotely terrain-limited by either the narrowness of the path or the long drop down the face of the bluff waiting for anyone who fell. But ambushes still required the ambushers to reveal their location, and all but a very few of the people with her had gained hard experience in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Deadly danger all around didn't even begin to shake their nerve, and they calmly and coolly returned fire at every Absolutist who dared expose themselves, keeping their flanks covered and all angles of approach under observation despite the restricted maneuvering room.

The Absolute's more distant ambushers, who'd set up in positions where they could rain arrows down on the narrow exterior pathway, were also being hard countered. The merregons could turn invisible and climb almost like spiders, and the archers were lucky to get off one or two shots after exposing their positions before murdered by fiendish assassins who'd cut their fangs on the Blood War. And Yurgir stood proud at the head of the advance, a nigh-unstoppable force pushing the cultists back no matter how stubbornly they tied to dig in. The only weapons they had that were even capable of wounding him were the illithids' own psionic blasts, and he was resilient enough to shrug off more than a few of those before staggering. In addition, every illithid who tried to take him down got only one shot each. Yurgir's counterfire with his Hellfire Crossbow was mercilessly accurate, and every shot struck with the force of an exploding ballista bolt.

And then the explosion of several smokepowder charges up ahead collapsed an entire section of the exterior stairway, halting the raiders in place.

"I can probably get past that, and so can my merregons - but none of your people can." Yurgir cursed. "Now what?"

"Now I see." Jaheira agreed savagely. "The elder brain didn't think it likely that Hawke would risk the Netherstones in the open assault, so it prepared this route expecting him to take it. It was all a feint – Hawke was intended to weary himself fighting his way up to here, and then to be cut off and surrounded when the pathway was collapsed after he was already stuck halfway up the hillside."

"And a blocking force just came out from the Hall's windows beneath us and is occupying the path below. They're coming up behind us slowly, but they are coming." Harper Rion agreed grimly. "Mother, we're trapped."

"Boo says that this is only a problem for the cultists, not for us." Minsc said confidently. "Watch and learn, young ones."

"Children!" Jaheira scoffed lightly. "Do you really think I'd put myself this far up a path without thinking ahead as to what I'd do if I couldn't go back the way I came?" She smirked. "I made sure to check the plans before we took this route. The outer wall we're currently up against is made out of two feet of reinforced granite."

"Is that all?" Yurgir laughed uproariously. "Get your helmets on, humans! Falling rock zone!"

The Harpers all stepped back as the orthon's fist suddenly blazed with hellfire and he swung it into the wall with impossible force. Yurgir's blow sank over a foot deep into the stone, splintering it as if it were rotten wood. Again and again he struck – once, twice, thrice – until a gaping hole was torn open in the wall large enough for two humans to go through abreast.

"I love sieges." Yurgir gloated. "Just for the expressions on their faces when they find out that I can do that!"

"You're too big for those interior spaces. Hold the path behind us, then find another way up." Jaheira said to Yurgir, who nodded back to her professionally. "Harpers, follow me!"

"I'm curious… what was your plan if we hadn't had the devil available to help?" Rion's brother asked his adopted mother as the Harpers became the first defenders of Baldur's Gate to actually breach the upper levels of the High Hall. Smoothly they swept out in teams to find and remove any enemies lurking in the administrative offices they were passing through.

"The two runepowder charges in my backpack, Minsc, and a prybar." Jaheira replied immediately. "Now stay close, we've got to clear these hallways and hustle to link back up with the main column." She sighed heavily. "I just hope Hawke isn't having as much trouble as we are."

---

Author's Note: I could have padded this out some, given everybody else more cool moments, but I figured 3+k words was adequate for a single scene. But we needed the scene - the final battle of the game already disappoints me with how I can't actually see any part of it but my own tiny piece while I'm playing it, and that's when I'm playing the game. Y'all are reading a story here, I have to actually show you at least some of what's going on.

And yes, you're intended to imagine it as one giant single tracking shot back and forth, like that famous scene in the 'Avengers' movie. That was entirely the inspiration, after all. And this is why I had to make it an interlude - too many things happening in too many places to have it even be remotely visible all to the first-person POV.

As to why I sidelined Lae'zel and Wyll - once, they're linking back up with the main group at the end anyway and two, Wyll is logically going to be here. As for Lae'zel, Orpheus is actually taking advantage of an excuse to put her in position where she can evacuate with Voss if they have to blow the Orb - he heard what she said to Hawke, but if he has to bite the bullet and survivor's guilt his way out of here and leave that many people behind to die if they have to blow the Orb (which he does) then he's going to at least keep one of Hawke's friends alive too, and Lae'zel's the only one he can actually give orders to. (Plus, while it's not really going to be in the story I like to imagine that Orpheus kinda, y'know, likes her.)

And yes, those are Jaheira's older kids with her in the final battle. Character development! (Also, they just showed up with the other Harpers at the final muster when all hell broke loose and it was too late to make them leave.)

Aylin does indeed get more than a couple moments here, but there's two reasons for that. One, she's not only one of the most powerful individual combatants there but she's also by far the most mobile - she can reach anywhere on the entire battle map in just a couple minutes at most. So by sheer force of logic she's going to be turning up useful in more than one place. And for another, given how mercilessly I teased the poor warrior-angel in prior chapters I really did owe her one awesomely big fight besides her Moonrise intro, and so she got it.

And yes, she actually can summon a squad of einherjar angels to show up and kick ass in game... but you only see that if you choose the 'betray Aylin to Lorroakan' path in act three, because she needs the summons to give her fair odds against the entire party plus the evil "wizard". She doesn't do it in the final battle because she's already an NPC ally unit there, not a party member, and they don't want NPC allies summoning more NPC allies. But that's game engine logic, which as a fanfic author I ignore whenever convenient for me.

 

[GigaVanguard]

And yes, you're intended to imagine it as one giant single tracking shot back and forth, like that famous scene in the 'Avengers' movie. That was entirely the inspiration, after all.

Click to shrink...

This absolutely came through clearly as I was reading the interlude. It has the chaotic feel of a pitched battle, with every threat posed by the enemy being cinematically countered by a faction that Hawke and his allies have befriended during this long journey. It's peak.

 

[Lucid Lunacy]

"I love sieges." Yurgir gloated. "Just for the expressions on their faces when they find out that I can do that!"

Click to shrink...

Yurgir MVP. For a hellspawn, he's pretty cool.

 

[Matrix Dragon]

And yes, you're intended to imagine it as one giant single tracking shot back and forth, like that famous scene in the 'Avengers' movie.

Click to shrink...

Instructions Unclear, Started Playing 'Like A Prayer'

 

[cliffc999]

Yurgir MVP. For a hellspawn, he's pretty cool.

Click to shrink...

He's literally a baby-eating monster, as directly lampshaded in his first appearance - but yeah, he's also fully on the 'Worthy Opponent' track.

Or in this case, Token Evil Teammate At Least For Today. (Notice that before Hawke welcomed him aboard, he made sure to lay down 'if you're here because you're making a play for the Crown of Karsus, you might want to leave politely while we're still being polite').

But yeah, you cannot admire him, but you can respect him. He's the flipside of Hell - still an evil monster, but 180 out from devils like Raphael.

 

[BigBad]

Yurgir is a complete monster but given that he pretty much exclusively aims that monstrosity at the Blood War when he's not bound by someone's command to do otherwise, he's at least tolerable as an ally of convenience. And his last victims on the prime material were dark justiciars who are, uh, not morally any better than actual literal demons.

Just don't ask him to babysit.

 

[Matrix Dragon]

Just don't ask him to babysit.

Click to shrink...

Unless the babysitting is tactically important to the blood war.

 

[DIT_grue]

Spoiler: Suggestions

Isobel looked up from where a Moonlight Sliver had just 'coincidentally' been nearby to help strike down one of the assassins that had almost gotten close enough to backstab her while she'd been busy impaling a Death Sheperd and rolled her eyes at Aylin as she soared overhead. Aylin laughed unashamedly in response as their eyes met during this fleeting moment in mid-battle and then she continued her dive and killed another mind flayer as it commanded 'safely' from behind the enemy lines. Their byplay was cut off as the Flaming Fist and the Upper City Watch surged forward, the normal interservice rivalry between them entirely absent as their men interchangeably fought side-by-side, forming ranks whenever pressed hard and scattering into small detachments to pursue and harry the Absolutists whenever they broke.

Click to shrink...

Shepherd

"Aylin! Get your unit topside and back up Voss and his dragon-riders! You're the only other people we've got who can fly, and another nautiloid just arrived!" Wyll called out to her.

"Aye!" she agreed, and four winged figures shot into the sky as if they'd been fired from ballistas.

Click to shrink...

Has one of them been destroyed, or is this an error? There was originally 1 Aylin + 4 Moonlight Slivers:

Gasps rang out as four gleams of silver light materialized hovering in the air in front of the formation, their brilliant winged silhouettes fading away to reveal faceless helmed warrior-angels in silver armor, as if Aylin had somehow materialized solidified yet still spiritual copies of herself.

Click to shrink...

Jaheira's Harpers had taken several casualties from the traps and ambushes that the illithid forces had laid, some of which had taken ruthless advantage of the fact that illithids could levitate and were thus not remotely terrain-limited by either the narrowness of the path or the long drop down the face of the bluff waiting for anyone who fell. But ambushes still required the ambushers to reveal their location, and all but a very few of the people with her had gained hard experience in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Deadly danger all around didn't even begin to shake their nerve, and the calmly and coolly returned fire at every Absolutist who dared expose themselves, keeping their flanks covered and all angles of approach under observation despite the restrcited maneuvering room.

Click to shrink...

they
restricted

The Absolute's more distant ambushers, who'd set up in positions where they could rain arrows down on the narrow exterior pathway, awere also being hard countered. The merregons could turn invisible and climb almost like spiders, and the archers were lucky to get off one or two shots after exposing their positions before murdered by fiendish assassins who'd cut their fangs on the Blood War. And Yurgir stood proud at the head of the advance, a nigh-unstoppable force stubbornly pushing the cultists back no matter how stubbornly they tied to dig in. The only weapons they had that were even capable of wounding him were the illithids' own psionic blasts, and he was resilient enough to shrug off more than a few of those before staggering. In addition, every illithid who tried to take him down got only one shot each. Yurgir's counterfire with his Hellfire Crossbow was mercilessly accurate, and every shot struck with the force of an exploding ballista bolt.

Click to shrink...

were
Is the use of the same word supposed to be deliberate contrast (if so, it didn't land well for me)? Or could one of these (probably the first - stubbornness is much more resonant with defense than offense) be replaced by a synonym like persistently?

 

[cliffc999]

Has one of them been destroyed, or is this an error? There was originally 1 Aylin + 4 Moonlight Slivers:

Click to shrink...

One of them is still back bodyguarding Isobel, despite her insistence that she doesn't need one. Aylin is a stubborn woman. *g*

(Remember the sequence where a Moonlight Sliver is 'coincidentally' nearby when Isobel almost gets backstabbed, and Isobel's mid-battle pout over it? Callback.)

 

[Matrix Dragon]

Aylin is a stubborn woman.

Click to shrink...

Nooooo... You're making that up...

 

[cliffc999]

Nooooo... You're making that up...

Click to shrink...

One of my personal fun indulgences in this fic was all the Old Married Couple Energy I got to spin up around Isobel and Aylin. There is just so much adorable potential there. *g*

 

[Matrix Dragon]

One of my personal fun indulgences in this fic was all the Old Married Couple Energy I got to spin up around Isobel and Aylin. There is just so much adorable potential there. *g*

Click to shrink...

Honestly, I was sold from the moment Aylin, after a century of torture and No Wife, proceeded to lightly tease Isobel over leaving her weapon in her room again.

 

[cliffc999]

"Maker help us, I really hope the others aren't having as much trouble as we are!" I swore heatedly.

I didn't know if the Netherbrain had anticipated our attempting to use it or if it was just trying to get its own sally force through the tunnel and out behind the attackers, but the result had been the same either way. The tunnel had been practically flooded with enemies, and not just cultists. Intellect devourers, several larger charmed monsters, and even our fair share of illithids and more - it had felt like we were trying to swim up a waterfall full of hatred, claws, tentacles, spells, and swords.

I had the lead, the combination of my adamantine armor and the regeneration provided by the Helm of Balduran turning me into a nigh-invulnerable juggernaut. The armor reduced virtually every wound to bruising force only, requiring attackers to defeat me by slowly depleting my endurance with the cumulative effect of shock and pain – but the helm's regeneration wiped away such accumulated damage almost as fast as I could accumulate it. And the Giantslayer sword doubled the force of my already prodigious strength, allowing me to cleave through virtually anything smaller than an ogre with a single hit. If he'd had armor even half as good as mine, it was no wonder that the legends had spoken of Balduran as such an undefeatable champion.

Karlach's own adamantine weapon cleaved through even the toughest flesh as if it were air, and while she had no nigh-invulnerable armor or regeneration of his own she didn't need it so long as she operated in tandem with me. As long as I could tank the majority of the damage her own wounds never accumulated beyond what a veteran warrior was already accustomed to withstanding in battle despite the unrelenting odds, and with her sword to flank and augment mine the enemy never got a chance to surround us and overwhelm us from our sides or rear. Shadowheart remained a pace to my left throughout just as Karlach anchored my right, her Spirit Guardians spell blazing forth and incinerating all the smaller vermin and scuttlers with the sheer force of its radiance just as the Spear of Night did its own work covering my flank and impaling the bigger ones. Gale remained behind us, having used up a good half of his spells keeping us from being swarmed under by clumps of enemies so numerous that even the Spirit Guardians couldn't stop them all before they drowned us underneath the weight of their bodies.

"Rotate out." Prelate Lir'ic commanded evenly, and we fell back as the Honor Guard advanced to the front. Our underground team had been fighting through an almost solid mass of enemies the entire way up the drainage tunnel, and the ability to have two squads rotate in and out of the line to catch our breath and refresh for their next rotation in the vanguard had been the only thing that made our advance possible.

"I can see the exit point ahead!" Shadowheart gasped relievedly, after the Honor Guard finished fighting their way through the last surge of enemies. "At last!"

"Take your potions." I ordered everyone, and we all drew out several of the vials that Gale had painstakingly brewed for us. We'd originally had these and several other buffing potions – all of which we'd already drank – prepared as a contingency for the assault on the Temple of Bhaal if our first plan for Orin hadn't worked, but fortunately we hadn't needed them then.

"It's fortunate I had free rein amongst Sorcerous Sundries' stock or else I wouldn't been able to afford to make these." Gale commented as all of our spellcasters drank. "Have you the slightest idea of what the ingredients for a Potion of Angelic Slumber cost?"

Our melee fighters stood watch over our comatose selves as those of us who needed their spells replenished were unconscious for the minute or two that it took the potion to work. They were a near-miraculous substance that allowed the user to compress an entire night's worth of rest and regaining spells and energy into virtually no time at all, and they were as expensive as you'd imagine.

"One thing I still don't understand." Shadowheart asked as we resumed the advance. "Why is the Netherbrain staying here at all? Couldn't it just travel away into the planes and slowly build up its forces somewhere else that we could never hope to find it? It's not like it needs Baldur's Gate specifically, does it?"

"Preventing that precise thing from happening is one of the reasons we've been trying to sneak up on it." Orpheus acknowledged. "For now, the Netherbrain will remain in place so long as the probable risks of doing so are outweighed by the benefits. Since the bulk of its already-prepared forces are here, there is a finite cost in time and effort to replace those forces if it abandons them all. It would not be logical to do that unless it is under a significant threat – which to its current perception, it is not."

"Plus there's the fact that it wants to make sure Orpheus' bloodline or the Netherstones don't remain around to threaten its illithid empire in the future, and if it flees off into the trackless planar expanse then so might we." I agreed. "So for as long as it thinks the odds are still in its favor, it'll stay here and try to finish it all today."

"You make it sound like it's still one step ahead of us." Karlach said.

"It is one step ahead of all of us." Orpheus replied grimly, frustrated with how his unique value as the only anti-psionic defense capable of keeping the Netherbrain from winning a near-instant victory by sheer force of mind had denied him the opportunity to actually strike any blows against the enemy personally. "Do you have the slightest idea of what kind of intellect it possesses? It is not only far more intelligent than any single humanoid, it can execute many intellectual tasks in parallel. Trying to outwit an elder brain is like trying to contend against an entire community of geniuses, only all acting with perfect unity and full awareness of each other's thoughts. We will not outsmart it simply by imagining something that it does not. Victory is only possible against an elder brain if its own strategies are incomplete due to its lacking essential data."

"Well, I'm pretty sure it doesn't know that we actually can make the Netherstones work with Aylin's help – and hopefully it doesn't know about the Orb of Karsus' existence either - or else it would have already left." I agreed. "As is, it's not only still here but still near enough to the ground that we can climb onto it."

"The elder brain's brainstem is still reaching down through the earth and into the spawning pool it just left, so as to give it continued access to nutrients." Prelate Lir'i'c explained. "It is, after all, exerting itself considerably with all of the psionic energy it is expending even through our Prince's jamming."

"Right, this is it." I said. "Everybody get ready. No guarantees on what we're about to jump into."

"I am in mental contact with Lae'zel. Our allies have-" Orpheus began.

"There you are!" Lae'zel swore frustratedly, her head sticking down out of the manhole that we were about to climb up through. "With the greatest of respect, Your Radiance, did you and Hawke stop for lunch?"

Orpheus actually laughed out loud as we all climbed up to rejoin the others. The plan had worked, both columns had finished their advance and relinked up, and we now had control of the High Hall.

"Everyone to the roof, double-time!" I said as we ran. "Even with Orpheus' jamming the Netherbrain can't miss the fact that all of the people supposed to be defending this building are now dead, not for much-"

The ground shook underneath our feet as the Netherbrain began the process of extracting its brainstem from where it had been solidly rooted down into the earth… in preparation for flight.

"I am really starting to hate that thing's sense of timing." Shadowheart agreed wearily as we all piled frantically out onto the roof. We got there just in time to see the brainstem detach from the ground. Its tip slowly, insolently traveled up past our eyes as the Netherbrain began to levitate up to altitude.

"Voss! Aylin! We need airlift immediately!" Orpheus mentally broadcast-

-and as if it had simply been waiting for Orpheus' position fix, planar portals erupted in the sky as a trio of fresh nautiloids jumped in.

"Where the hells did those even come from?!?" Wyll swore. "Every nautiloid we saw at Moonrise has been accounted for already?"

"The Netherbrain wasn't just waiting here to finish its conquest of Baldur's Gate!" I realized in horror. "From the moment it was freed, it's been psionically broadcasting across the planes to other illithid colonies! That's where the bulk of its attention and power has been going during the battle! These must be just the first to arrive!"

"The rebirth of the Grand Design indeed!" Orpheus agreed.

"Your Radiance!" Voss cried, his dragon landing heavily alongside us, as Aylin herself touched down adjacent to him. "The bulk of our own reinforcements still have yet to arrive... and now we know why, if the near astral has been full of that! We are ready to try flying your party up to the Netherbrain, but-"

"You don't remotely have enough dragons left, not even with Aylin and her cohort covering you. Not against three of them." I said. "Orpheus, contact Ansur. If he's got anything left-"

Ansur! Orpheus broadcast. We need your aid! The Netherbrain is escaping, and the skies are blocked to us!

I… cannot… the dragon thought wearily back to us, audible to all of us with tadpoles through our link to Orpheus. I have been dead too long… my anchors to this plane are all gone… and hatred… vengeance… they are not enough…

The world seemed to hold its breath as we all slumped in despair. We'd come so close… but we'd missed our shot by a single unforgiving minute. The Netherbrain's ascent through the sky was slow, lazy, as if it arrogantly taunted us in our impotence – just as the descending nautiloids also advanced deliberately, allowing us the maximum amount of time to see our doom coming before it arrived.

"They never are, Ansur." Shadowheart agreed, as we all turned to gape at her in surprise at how bright and calm her voice still was. "But they don't need to be."

Shadowheart closed her eyes and lowered her head in prayer, her lips murmuring, and I wondered what the hell she thought she could even do – until my memory suddenly prompted me of something Isobel had told us barely two days before-

"The Moonmaiden will answer a senior priestess' call for as much direct intervention as Ao will allow her to provide... but virtually no priestess has that call answered more than once in a lifetime. I have already used my one guaranteed boon - to provide the shield over Last Light Inn, as it happens. But Shadowheart has not."

"Selune, blessed Lady of Silver, patron of those who quest-" she began.

"Lathander, our Morninglord, patron of renewal-" Dawnmaster Arkhold began, immediately catching on to their intent. The Blood of Lathander blazed forth even more brilliantly than usual as he used the divine weapon as the focus for his own calling-

"As the silver moon waxes and wanes-" she continued, and Isobel joined in alongside her-

"As all those who languish in darkness will inevitably know the dawn-" he continued.

"I implore thee, answer thy humble servant's call. Ansur the dragon, heart and spirit of Baldur's Gate, lays stricken by treachery as his beloved home is threatened yet again by his betrayers. Grant him your grace. Lend him your strength. Allow the city's heart to fly free once more, in whatever form the laws and the grace of the spheres may permit." our two priestesses finished.

"And let the virtuous triumph over the wicked upon this day." Arkhold affirmed.

It seemed as if an entire city held its breath for a moment… and then the brilliant sun beamed more brightly through the clouds, as an impossible daytime moon flickered briefly into visibility to accompany it. Every living soul within the city walls suddenly felt a brief impression – one moment where they knew the warm regard of a goddess. The same regard that several of us had felt before attending the death of Ketheric Thorm underneath Moonrise Towers, only this time accompanied by a more distant and lofty presence that we could feel 'behind' it as well.

And with a glorious roar that they likely heard in Waterdeep, the great bronze wyrm flew once more.

All of Baldur's Gate saw their mythical defender arise again, shining with a brilliant celestial aura as the dragon – no, the spirit dragon, I saw, as Ansur was now a reborn soul sent back to the material plane by the gods to fight evil just as the Moonlight Slivers themselves were – took wing from Wyrm's Rock Fortress and soared majestically to the attack.

The descending nautiloids paused in shock before hurriedly redeploying to meet this new threat, but Ansur was at least twice as large as any of the githyanki steeds and breathed lightning instead of fire. His first attack shorted out every system on the nautiloid he struck, its hulled carcass falling helplessly out of the sky as electrical arcs writhed over every inch of it. The Netherbrain's flight speed suddenly doubled as it decided that more than anything else it just wanted to get the hell out of here.

We held our breaths as the Netherbrain visibly charged up energy for a teleport, but then Ansur's electric breath lashed out over the exposed brain's lobes and broke its concentration. A psionic backlash that echoed like a thunderclap sent the dragon reeling away, but then it flew right back into the fight without a visible mark on it. The Netherbrain redoubled its aerial flight, calculating that so long as Ansur was available to harry it then it could never hope to finish a psionic teleport before he simply disrupted it again-

"Let's go!" I shouted as we all leapt into the available dragon-saddles. Prelate Lir'i'c raged helplessly at Orpheus' command for the Honor Guard to stay behind, but after the casualties the dragon-riders had already taken there was only barely enough room for the six of us and Prince Orpheus and even that was accomplished by having most of the githyanki knights dismount and let us take their dragons up under their own guidance. Voss was the only one who remained mounted so as to lead our dragonflight, and the Moonlight Slivers streaked ahead of us to clear our path while Aylin herself peeled off and headed towards Ramazith's Tower. The High Hall fell away from beneath our feet with dizzying speed as we streaked upward into the sky.

"It's heading out over the ocean!" Gale called joyously. "Even our backup plan won't have any collateral now!"

"It'll still cost you, so let's not change the program just yet!" I yelled back cheerfully. "But you're right, it's panicking! It didn't see this coming!"

"Who could have?" Shadowheart giggled helplessly as she hugged me tight from where she rode behind me in the saddle. "I'm at least as shocked as anyone else, and I did it!"

The Netherbrain desperately tried to fend us off from landing on top of it as both tentacles and summoned psychic constructs flooded the zone, but we had several dragons to just breathe on them all and vaporize them. Its attempt to dominate one of the dragons was contemptuously fended off by Orpheus, and the two remaining nautiloids were torn apart by a triumphant Ansur before they could catch up to us and intervene. A second wave of tentacles was torn to shreds by our combined powers and spells and the Netherbrain finally relented, its immediate defensive resources apparently expended for the moment. The spirit-dragon then faded away, as if to say My work here is done. I trust you to finish this without me. I hoped that wherever he was now, he'd at least get a good view.

The Crown of Karsus blazed with power as we walked across the exposed upper lobe of the Netherbrain to confront it at point blank range. Every remaining gem on the Crown blazed forth with arcane power as if it they were hateful, red-filled eyes. The most powerful and wicked creature currently extant on all Toril had eight insignificant mortals standing on top of it, mortals that under normal circumstances it could have crushed with an errant thought.

But this time, we weren't the ones who were afraid.

-Insolent-
-FLYSPECKS!-
-You dare-
-CONTEND?-
-Already-
-FAILED-
-You are-
-INSUFFICIENT-
-Weakling-
-FOOLS!-

"Hold that thought." I smirked at it insolently… and then between one breath and the next I felt the ritual link establish. Aylin was in position, and the soulcage bond was now sustaining the immortality of the three of us who would wield the Netherstones. Shadowheart stood on my left and Gale on my right as we raised the Netherstones high and lashed out against the Crown one last time.

A brilliant triple beam of energy leapt forth from our stones, coiling around each other in an elaborate braid as it connected directly to the center of the Crown. We gritted our teeth in pain as the impossible mental effort resumed… but this time, we could keep going. We pushed past the point where normally the cerebral hemorrhage would have killed us, the very tissue of our nervous system instantly reknitting again and again even as the effort we were sustaining drove it apart.

Don't stop! Aylin's thought came to us via the ritual link. I can do this! We can do this!

Hawke! Lae'zel's mind-voice came through, as she linked her tadpole to ours. Let us help you!

Don't connect too deeply! I warned her as Wyll and Karlach also joined our link. You don't have Aylin protecting your nervous systems from overload!

We can still provide secondary support. Orpheus' own mind-voice came through calmly, as him and Voss also came in. And we can distract the brain. It could overwhelm any single mortal mind by calculating its moves ahead of time, but the possible neural permutations of nine minds in concert are enormously more complex than a simple ninefold multiplication!

-Must-
-RESIST!-
-Cannot-be-
-DEFEATED-
-Not-by-
-slaves-
-Not-by-
-YOU!-

"I propose that we test that theory!" Gale mocked it, and we drove in for the kill.

-impossible-
-CEASE-

"How's about no?" Shadowheart scoffed.

-refuse-
-REFUSE!-
-my-will-
-is-
-INFINITE-
-you-must-
-you-
-must…-

"It's weakening!" I cried triumphantly. By now it felt like a sun was exploding in my mind… but just a little further… just a little-

-i-impossible-
-PAIN-
-FEAR-
-TERROR-
-reconsider-
-assess-

"Push!" we all cried mentally as one.

-implore-
-SURRENDER-
-spare-me-
-JOIN-me-
-WIELD-me-
-BECOME-
-ABSOLUTE-

The temptation of literally godlike power flickered before all our eyes. A world where the Netherbrain was our helpless broken slave, incapable of ever resisting… and where its power could allow us to enslave everyone else-

"Eugh, don't make me hurl." Karlach spoke for us all.

"The Grand Design is over." Orpheus declaimed triumphantly. "The children of Gith will never submit to you again! One Sky!"

"No more tadpoles." I commanded. "No more Absolute. No more you!" I roared. "You want to obey my commands? Then here they are! Safely deactivate everything you've got left… and then JUST FUCKING DIE!"

-M-master-
-I must-
-OBEY-
-I must-
-…-
-END-

The screams of legions of unborn illithids echoed faintly in our ears and then faded away as our tadpoles went silent. Every person on Toril with one of the modified tadpoles in them would now be free to live out their normal lives, just as we would be. Even the tadpoles in our bodies would be harmlessly absorbed by our metabolisms and then eventually excreted. Every unimplanted tadpole was now floating dead and inert in whatever spawning pool they might have been bred in. Every illithid, intellect devourer, nautiloid, and illithid bio-construct that had linked itself to the Netherbrain's hive mind was now dead, their minds mercilessly snuffed out by their master's will. What fate the Absolute cultists we hadn't killed yet might be undergoing was unknown to us – hopefully they'd still retain functioning minds of their own to go on once the Absolute's voice was forever removed from their psyches – but we'd done everything for them that we could.

And when that was all complete the life faded away from the Netherbrain, quietly and without incident. The Crown of Karsus ceased glowing and went dull and dark, shrinking down from its giant size back to a form originally sized for a human wielder as soon as its current wearer was dead. I reached out and plucked the crown from the air, cheerfully tossing it to Gale…

… and then the surface underneath us lurched and we all went into free-fall as the now-dead brain began to plummet thousands of feet down towards the merciless ocean.

"Feather Fall." Gale incanted calmly, and our precipitous descent was arrested for long enough for us to remount our dragon allies and begin the flight of several miles back to Baldur's Gate.

"We did it." Lae'zel sighed, blushing furiously from where her and Prince Orpheus had ended up riding double-saddle. Fortunately for her she was the one riding behind, so he couldn't see.

"Indeed." the Prince reflected calmly. "One Sky…" he murmured after a thoughtful pause. "To Mother Gith, that was a proclamation that all skies should ultimately belong to the gith, a call to conquest. To my younger self, it was merely a battle-cry – I was not inclined much to philosophical thought then, caring only about surmounting whatever challenge lay before me and proving myself thereby. Voss can certainly testify to that. And during my long imprisonment… well, you can imagine what my thoughts were occupied by."

"And now?" I asked him from where we flew alongside.

"And now I see that my mother was wrong. She believed that the gith would never be safe until we had no enemies remaining, and that we should make ceaseless war until that was true. And for the longest time that was true, for our chief enemy was of course the ghaik and absolutely no peace or coexistence is possible with their horrid ilk. But for the rest of the universe?" He shook his head. "To respond to a legitimate threat is one thing, but to make ceaseless war against all possible enemies? That only means that all others will be your enemies, forever and without respite. Peace is only possible when you can work with others, and they with you… what just happened to us is proof of that!"

He laughed and continued. "Our victory today – my freedom – whatever remaining hope the gith will ever have to be free of the soul-devouring parasite that is Vlaakith – none of that would have been possible without you. And our alliance with you would never have existed without your initial act of trust in us… and in Lae'zel in particular."

"There was also your insistence on hearing us out when your Honor Guard still thought us to be attacking thralls." Gale complimented him.

"True. But it is also true that if Vlaakith had simply dealt with you in good faith when you'd first met her, I would now be dead before myself or any of my Honor Guard had even awoken." Orpheus nodded matter-of-factly. "And yet thanks to the selfish treachery of the Usurper and Lae'zel's integrity and honor, we did ally. And your party fought on our behalf even unto the depths of the very hells themselves. All to our tremendous benefit and all when we were strangers to you. And you never asked for anything in return."

"We asked for quite a bit in return, honestly." Shadowheart retorted.

"Asking the gith to help defeat ghaik is like asking a star to shine or wind to blow." Voss chimed in amusedly.

"Valid point." I conceded. "You know… on Thedas, we have a people – a religion, actually – called the Qun. And on my first contact with your people, githyanki ways reminded me much of them. That's actually how I knew how to talk to you so well, Lae'zel – I'd had experience negotiating with qunari."

"You said 'on first contact' with us. You now have a different opinion?" Lae'zel asked.

"Very much so." I agreed. "The Qun… all of their discipline, their faith, their regard, is only for themselves. They have a word – basra – and it means much the same thing as istik, only worse. Even Vlaakith's people will usually pay an istik mercenary what they owe them."

"That is only prudent. To gain a reputation for cheating those who trade with you means only that you will receive less opportunities for trade - and at greater cost." Voss agreed.

"But while the qunari make a great show of keeping promises to those they respect, "respect" is a highly flexible – and transient – quality. Which means a qunari treaty with basra is ultimately worth nothing if they find it more profitable to break it than keep it. And that makes dealing with them - you can imagine." I shook my head. "I got sidetracked. What I'm trying to say is that I agree with what you're saying. No matter how different someone else is from you, you have to at least try to deal with them fairly until after you catch them cheating you – because when push comes to shove, some day you might need each other's help. Or at least a reason to not kick the other while they're down."

"Case in point, Gortash fucking me over and having that catch up to him a decade later just when he thought he was about to win it all." Karlach agreed cheerfully.

"Or what happened to Mizora - and why." Wyll agreed with equal amusement.

"Even though our separate interests and our struggles may be unrelated, we must all respect common ground when we find it." Orpheus nodded. "That is what the term 'One Sky' means to me now – however different one people's land and culture may be from another's, ultimately we are all beneath the same heavens. When we reach out to the gith at large, kith'raks, and begin to rally them away from the Usurper - this is what we must teach them."

"As you will, Your Radiance." Voss agreed and Lae'zel echoed.

"The Crown of Karsus." We all turned to see Gale turning it over in his hands as he stared down at it enraptured. "I could still take this, you know… reforge the Crown… master its power…"

"Gale, you are not being even remotely convincing." I mocked him.

"And two of the Netherstones you'd need are still in Hawke's and my pockets." Shadowheart chimed in sweetly.

"Oh come on, I had to try!" he grinned back. "When else would I ever get the opportunity for that kind of practical joke?"

"Just don't try that joke with her when you go to turn it in." Wyll chuckled.

"Certainly not." Gale agreed quickly.

"We are approaching the city." Voss broke in, and sure enough the High Hall was visible in the distance. A brilliant flash in the sky swiftly resolved into Aylin's shining wings, as she flew out to greet us.

"Are you all right?" was my first question to her.

"I never want to experience that again." she replied in a voice that still shook slightly, her face even paler than usual from her ordeal. "But at least this time it was for a just cause. And yes, I will be fine. Thank you for your concern."

We descended to land in the same courtyard that we'd originally mustered the troops in at the start of the battle, and Isobel leapt forward to be caught in Aylin's arms. The two of them reassured each other that they were alive as the Grand Duke and the other commanders came forward to greet us.

"Hail the triumphant heroes!" Wyll's father cried out, and Wyll blushed as deeply as a man with his skin color could. "They have returned, and we are victorious!"

"HAIL!" the crowd echoed.

"I thank you for your plaudits, Grand Duke, and I will soon send my emissary to you to clarify any further details that may need resolving." Prince Orpheus greeted him regally from the saddle. "But for now my people must swiftly withdraw from this city. All the ghaik that directly served the elder brain are now dead along with it, but before it died it was attempting to summon allies. I must muster my forces – including those I summoned but have yet to arrive – and ensure that none remain in the near astral or arrive here. Furthermore, with the elder brain now gone Vlaakith will soon dispatch her own githyanki hither to find and slay me – I would be a poor ally indeed if I remained here and drew that trouble down upon you."

"I regret to hear that, Prince Orpheus. We would be poor allies if we did not render you the hospitality and honors that your selfless aid to us has earned. Still, the necessities of war are what they are. I wish you good fortune with your rebellion, Your Radiance." the Grand Duke acknowledged.

"And I wish you good fortune rebuilding your city, Your Grace." Orpheus nodded to him. "Lae'zel, say your farewells to your friends swiftly – you shall return here later as my emissary, but for now we must travel with dispatch."

"Until we meet again, Hawke." Lae'zel shook my hand, then submitted to hugs from Shadowheart and Karlach and further handshakes with Wyll and Gale. "And we will meet again."

"Of a certainty, Kith'rak Lae'zel." I gave her a githyanki salute, and we both smiled widely as she saluted me back.

"There you are!" Minsc shoved his way through the crowd as Jaheira slipstreamed right behind him. "Boo was worried about you, but I assured him not to trouble his whiskered little head. And hah, it turns out that Minsc was right!"

"Welcome back, friends." Jaheira said simply.

Isobel and Aylin finished their reunion and stepped up alongside us as Orpheus turned and bowed his head to the remainder of our party. "I owe you all a debt that I can never repay. The defeat of the Netherbrain and the Grand Design… my life and freedom… my people's only chance to cast off the chains of Vlaakith… none of this would have been possible without you. And most of all, none of it would have been possible without Hawke's leadership throughout this crisis. He will be forever recorded in our slates as Mla'ghir – liberator. And should you ever need our aid, Saer, we shall answer your call."

"Quulos! Quuthos!" Voss cried, and two dragons we hadn't seen yet swooped down out of the sky.

"Kith'rak Lae'zel, this is Quuthos." he introduced the second dragon to her. "His rider fell in the battle today, and by our customs he is free to seek another worthy gith to partner with him in battle."

Lae'zel and Orpheus had a wordless psionic communication with the two dragons, and then Lae'zel mounted her new dragon with tears in her eyes and beamed proudly down at us. Orpheus mounted the other dragon, who had apparently been chosen as his new steed by whatever customs the githyanki used, and Voss and the other surviving gith knights remounted their own. We traded final farewells with the Prince and Voss, and all the githyanki knights soared into the sky on dragon wings. Orpheus opened a planar portal for the dragon-riders, just as the Honor Guard and other githyanki stragglers had a portal opened for them by their own gatemaker, and they were gone.

"Shadowheart." Isobel turned and hugged her. "I know I taught you about invoking Her, but I never would have thought to try and channel it to help Ansur – let alone imagine the level of response you would draw! The whole city saw that miracle! You were amazing."

"I was amazing? I seem to recall you were right there with me, along with the Dawnmaster!" Shadowheart replied.

"True… but we merely followed where you led us, young priestess." Dawnmaster Arkhold bowed respectfully to her. "You must be one of the Moonmaiden's most blessed indeed."

"Say that again after you hear where I started." Shadowheart blushed furiously.

"Where's Astarion?" I looked around, not seeing him. Not that I really knew him, but it would be sad if he'd died while so close to freedom-

"Indoors. When you deactivated the illithid parasites, his vulnerability to the sun returned." the Dawnmaster said embarrassedly. "Fortunately he was already under cover at the time."

Councilor Florrick approached us, her expression grave. "Sir. I have the preliminary casualty report that you asked for…"

And with that sobering reminder we all took a deep breath and got back to work. The battle was won and all the illithids and cultists attacking both down in the city and up here were dead, but we still had wounded to treat, missing people to recover, fires to put out, and our dead to bury.

But as wounded as the city was, it had survived.

The attacks down in the city had not been negligible but neither had they seriously been pursued – the main reason the Netherbrain had left any 'sleepers' down in the Lower City to start rampaging as mind flayers was to delay and confuse any counterattack by making its own attack seem to be everywhere. So the illithids down there had all been newborns, expecting nothing but easy pickings against unarmed and panicking civilians – and while there'd definitely been a lot of those, there had also been armed refugees, apprentice thieves, beginning adventurers, tavern bouncers, hired guards, and all the other cityfolk that our rumormongering campaign had primed with the very basics of how to survive the upcoming attack. Such as fighting illithids from outside range of their mindblasts with crossbows, and taking advantage of the fact that they were vulnerable to ambushes while being lured indoors. Several hundred people had died in the city but our preparations had saved hundreds more, and while the casualties in the Battle of the High Hall had not been light neither had they been anywhere near as bad as they could have been if we'd been even a little bit less prepared or more disorganized.

We'd escorted Gale back to the Stormshore Tabernacle to drop off the Crown and the Netherstones with Mystra as soon as we could find a moment to do so that afternoon – after all, it was perhaps the single most desired artifact on Toril and even if Yurgir wasn't going to try and steal it we were like hell going to hang on to that hot potato long enough to meet whoever the hell else Mephistopheles might send to come looking for it. Let alone what any one of a hundred other evil bastards across the planes might try to get their hands on that thing. Mystra had honored her promise to Gale and removed the Orb from him as soon as he'd returned Karsus' other artifact to her keeping. She still didn't apologize to him for having been wrong, though – not that Gale had expected her to, or was any further disappointed by her living down to expectations than he already had been.

Yurgir had departed back to the Nine Hells as soon as the battle was over, and for all that he'd been a reliable ally under the right circumstances and the sort of tough, straightforward bastard you could respect in a certain rough way we were still relieved to see him leave. He was a devil, after all, and a merciless and incredibly lethal one at that. I hadn't forgotten that he'd introduced himself to me by boasting about how he'd eaten a man's children in front of him. I of course had made sure to remain amiable whenever speaking to him – insulting him needlessly would have just been idiotic - but that didn't mean I was his friend. Things between us had ended not to our detriment and we could honestly thank him for his contributions. That was a good note to end it on, and hopefully that's where it would all stay.

Aylin's Moonlight Slivers had likewise returned to Selune's realm as soon as there was no further need for them. Aylin herself would of course be sticking around as long as Isobel was, and we'd be delighted to have her here.

So after spending hours that afternoon on casualty collection and damage control, we all met up in the Elfsong. It was going to be the acting headquarters of the Grand Duke for at least the next few days, after all. His official residence had just been partly dropped into a sinkhole and the rest of it set on fire, blown up, and otherwise ruined by our having a pitched battle in it and they were still cleaning Gortash's traps and mechanisms out of the headquarters level of Wyrm's Rock. So the Elfsong is where Ulder Ravengard treated us to a fine dinner while we brought each other up to speed on the status of the city.

The property damage in the Upper City had been extensive, but the Grand Duke anticipated that it would all be rebuilt as good as new in a few short months. The Upper City was where all the patriars lived, and a great deal of money and trade moved through Baldur's Gate and the people who controlled most of that trade would spend whatever it took to get their manor houses and fancy gardens and fine ornamental courtyards back. Even filling the hole in the ground that the Netherbrain had left would not be an insurmountable task, although the bill for hiring enough mages to cast an earthmoving ritual of that scope would be impressive even by Baldurian standards. I shook my head at how casually Faerunians could take magic workings of a size and scope I could barely even grasp… but then again, the only place on Thedas that mages still practiced an organized science of group ritual castings for large-scale effects was Tevinter, and I'd certainly never been there.

The property damage in the Lower City was less extensive, but would be far more costly to the people who lived there given that they'd be far less able to pay to fix it. I put a word in Duke Ravengard's and Councilor Florrick's ears about how they might want to try and be officially generous about disaster relief for the Lower City before Nine-Fingers moved in and saw an opportunity to even further increase her influence down there by being unofficially generous.

As far as more personal casualties, none of the people we personally knew had been among the dead – then again, that only made sense as we'd warned them all personally and they were among the most well-prepared. Jaheira got more than an earful from her three younger children about being 'dumped off at the temple in Rivington' while 'big brother and sister got to go with her and have all the fun', but a few crisp smacks on the butt sorted that nonsense out while the rest of us amusedly left her to keep her own house in order.

Our last memorable encounter of the day was at sunset. The five of us that remained had happened to all be near the docks – several of us had to attend a post-dinner meeting at the Counting House and the rest of us had been dealing with a minor problem over at what was left of the Steel Watch Foundry. So since we'd all happened to be in the vicinity at sunset, we'd stopped and taken a moment out to watch the glorious scarlet vista out over the water and feel the peace. And that's when someone else chose to visit us… whether it was because it happened to be the first opportune moment we were all alone or because he had a fine sense for a proper backdrop, we didn't know.

"And so it is done." Jergal greeted us softly as we stood in the fading sunlight. "And thou hast done well. Very well indeed."

"It's been one hell of a ride, hasn't it?" I agreed. "Thank you for your services. And your counsel."

"I did only what was necessary and permitted, Garrett Hawke." Jergal nodded gravely. "It was thou who went above and beyond. Many other possible champions could have also defeated the Absolute and foil the plot of the Dead Three. But few could have done so in the particular manner that you have, and fewer yet would have. The deeds that thou hast done here will echo across the face of time and the differing planes in many ways both direct and indirect, and few of those ways will be for ill."

"It's a pity Lae'zel couldn't be here to see this." Wyll said.

"I shall make my farewells to her as well." Jergal stated calmly. "She is fairly owed that regard, fully as much as thou are."

"Regarding your statement about 'echoes'." I asked him. "You mean Orpheus being inspired the way he was, as well as being freed at all? God help the githyanki right now if we'd fallen for Vlaakith's lies – or the Emperor's."

"That, and far more." Jergal agreed. "Several possible outcomes involved a Bhaalspawn using the power of the Absolute to slay the entirety of Toril before destroying themself. In many more, the champion would choose to accept the Absolute's offer and enact a tyranny beyond the dreams of even Enver Gortash. In virtually all of them, the Absolute's defeat would require the transformation of at least one of thy company into illithid – or allowing the 'Emperor' to slay Orpheus and assimilate his brain so as to wield both the prince's power and the psionic prowess of an illithid to contend against the Absolute directly. And those few that did not require such a transformation instead required Gale Dekarios to sacrifice himself to encompass the Absolute's destruction. I do not think any of the other possible champions would have conceived of the unique solution that thou did, let alone have been able to implement it. But these and other details are not necessary for thy enlightenment, interesting though they might be. Simply know that thou – and all of thy boon companions – have very much to be proud of indeed. And that thou have legitimately earned my respect with thy accomplishments."

"Speaking of the Dead Three, I hope they're being suitably punished?" Shadowheart asked.

"The Dead Three." Jergal said scornfully. "The supplication of Bane. The death mewl of Myrkul. The whimper of Bhaal. Gods they may have been but fools they have proven themselves, each and every one." His dry laughter, the first any had ever heard from him in an age, echoed softly forth. "They linger on for the moment, but their destruction is nigh inevitable. Their gambit of remaining quasi-deities and yet becoming paramount by withering away all true divinities above them hath utterly failed, and the retribution they have earned shall be most unrelenting. And they no longer remotely have their power of old, to withstand such retribution."

He paused and continued more soberly. "I erred greatly in choosing to raise them to divinity, and I was recently charged by those I could not gainsay with taking action to rectify that error. And within the limitations of the Balance, and by the accomplishments of thy party, that has finally been accomplished. My station is not one that readily allows either the acknowledgement of debts or the paying of them, so I will not state that I owe thee any. But none of thou need fear the day that we must inevitably meet again. I anticipate that thy eventual passings from mortality shall not be particularly unpleasant. Call it a… surmise, if thou would."

"And now your services towards us are at an end?" Gale asked for the record.

"That they are." Jergal acknowledged. "Thy parasites are destroyed, thy foe is slain, and thy quest is done. The remainder of thy lives now await to be lived however thou wilt, just as my own renewed dedication to the Balance awaits me. Fare thee well, all of you."

"And you as well, sir." I replied, and with the final rays of the setting sun Jergal was gone.

---

The next month was full of more hard work than most people could imagine, but passed quickly enough all the same. There was a lot of putting things back together to do, after all. Not to mention restoring morale, reassuring the people that things were over, explaining just what exactly had happened – and dealing with opportunists attempting to turn things or spin things to their particular advantage even if that required them to revise history in ways that made Varric's trashiest novel look as dryly factual as a ledger book.

I'd been named Champion of Baldur's Gate for my having passed the trials of Ansur and recovering the blade and helm of Balduran, a status I now bore in two cities. Aylin assured me that as far as Ansur's spirit was concerned the artifacts were mine to keep, even to take to Thedas should I manage to return there, although he would appreciate at least some type of attempt to send them back into the keeping of the city upon my eventual death. And the Grand Duke had been pleased as punch to inform me that my having been Marshal of Baldur's Gate – even if only for a day – had automatically raised me to the social rank of patriar, a status that I would forever keep, and that this would entitle me to… well, a lot of complicated legal privileges and obligations I'd have Florrick and Wyll explain to me later if I needed to know them. But I'd been a nobleman of Kirkwall and now I was a nobleman of Baldur's Gate as well.

Wyll had formally been commander of the Flaming Fist throughout the battle, but in practice had largely acted as a banner-bearer – the visible leadership out in front to keep the men moving the right way even through a chaotic battlefield. His father had been next to him the whole time, keeping his visibility low but murmuring tactical advice to his son when needed. Being fair, for all his combat training this had been Wyll's first battle as an officer in command and it was a rite of passage we all had to go through… although usually the voice of experience advising the young lieutenant through his first battle was a sergeant, not a general. But Wyll's father was a vigorous man and anticipated having quite a few years left to finish training his son and heir after things had been interrupted for them by Mizora's machinations, and Wyll's dramatic reintroduction to the city in its darkest hour had certainly restored all of his reputation and far more. And his experience as the Blade of Frontiers, as eclectic as it was, had proven invaluable in helping the city's reconstruction – Wyll's sojourn in exile had left him much more familiar with the needs and the limitations that the commonfolk labored under than ninety-nine percent of the Upper City's population ever would be, and he could get people all over the city to talk to him and trust him in ways that they'd never do for virtually any other patriar. So while the Grand Duke was firmly back in overall command of the city – after all, everyone in Baldur's Gate had seen every illithid drop dead along with the Netherbrain, so nobody was worried about any tadpoles still possibly being in anyone's heads – it was Wyll as his son and deputy that was the visible face of the city's reconstruction to most of the Lower and Outer Cities.

My advice to the Ravengards had proved prophetic, and the Guild had indeed been eagerly poised to take advantage of the expected indifference to the plight of the lower classes as the patriars concentrated first and foremost on restoring their own lost property and fortunes. His father's renewed priorities and Wyll's outreach efforts in the Lower City had entirely put a spike in that plan, and Nine-Fingers was simultaneously frustrated at the lost opportunities and honestly pleased that the ruling oligarchy of Baldur's Gate had finally given her someone to work with "who wasn't a complete sodding arsehole", as she'd put it.

I was amused to find out that Alfira's proposed bard school was now enjoying a positive explosion of new funding, to the point she'd actually been regifting the majority of it to refugee relief and reconstruction. This was partly because of her own minor glory as one of the tiefling refugees who'd so selflessly turned out to save the city that had barely even wanted to let them in and now couldn't quite praise them enough, but largely because as the one bard who'd actually been present throughout our entire quest from the Emerald Grove onward she was automatically presumed to be the authoritative source regarding exactly what the story of Baldur's Gate's latest heroes had been. And every other bard, chronicler, scholarly society, and the generally curious were gladly doing her whatever favors they could to convince her to share it. I had mercy on the poor young woman and spent two entire days giving her most of the details of our story from front to back, as unvarnished and factual as we could make it, so that she could handle the job of making sure it was written into history. Alfira gave me her most solemn oath not to Varric the whole thing up too much.

Jaheira and Minsc had already been through the whole 'heroes of Baldur's Gate' routine a century ago and gleefully ducked out on going through it again as soon as they possibly could, leaving the rest of us all to put up with the fuss and feathers while they were safely elsewhere. Minsc had made himself a self-appointed 'liason' of some type to the Guild to keep them on the relatively straighter and narrower, and Jaheira was back at home letting her kids drive her to distraction and enjoying every minute of it. As for her Harpers in general, they took their bows and then slinked back into the obscurity they preferred… to remain vigilant in the shadows for the next threat to Baldur's Gate. I wished them the best of luck.

As for Aylin and Isobel, they had a new challenge ahead of them. High Initiate Isobel Thorm was the only logical candidate to take charge of the rebuilding of Selune's temple and congregation in Baldur's Gate, now that the Sharrans who had originally withered the old temple away were gone and the worship of Selune surging to a never before seen level of popularity in the city given the aforementioned divine miracle that the entire city had recently marveled at. Not to to mention Aylin and the Moonlight Slivers having been such a prominent and morale-raising factor in the Battle of the High Hall. Other clerics of Selune, Initiates and mere acolytes both, were trickling in both from the outlying settlements and other places on Faerun to help the city's newest high priestess rebuild and staff a major temple of the Moonmaiden here.

The worship of Lathander was also hitting a new popularity, and the Dawnmaster was more than willing to provide what help he could to his newest colleague in helping her own temple get on its feet. And while the two denominations did not have any formal pacts between their respective divinities or between their churches in Faerun in general, in the city of Baldur's Gate the temples of the sun and moon were falling into a partnership as close and essential as the two respective celestial bodies in the sky had. Between the assistance of the Lathanderites and their personal guardian aasimar hanging around, the newest temple of the Moon would be more than kept safe and secure through its growing pains even if Shar did attempt something. Granted, Shar's attempt would require her to import some talent from out of town if she wanted to try that, because after what we'd done there wasn't a single living priest or acolyte of Shar in Baldur's Gate.

Even Nocturne didn't count anymore, seeing as how she was one of the very first postulants to seek a novitiate at the new temple of Selune. She was actually forming a very odd friendship with Astarion, who had also decided to start a new life for himself as a lay brother of the temple… at least until he could finish healing his mind and spirit from his past experiences and then decide what to do with the rest of his unlife. He'd likely have preferred to stay at the temple of Lathander and do that, but there had been a slight logistical difficulty regarding his renewed sunlight allergy and working in close proximity with the priests of the Morninglord. Fortunately for him, Selunite worship services often occurred at night.

Shadowheart could of course have had a very high position in this temple's hierarchy free for the asking, but neither her nor Isobel were asking. As far as Isobel was concerned Shadowheart had done more than enough for now, and had certainly been through more than enough changes in her life in what had after all been a very short time. So while Shadowheart readily volunteered her efforts alongside mine in helping the Grand Duke with rebuilding the city's government and resuming normal operations, nothing else was expected of her except to rest, begin her more formal studies of the Selunite liturgy, and finish reuniting with her family.

Gale and Karlach had also lent their talents to the reconstruction efforts, of course, but neither of them had any particular ambition to contend for rank or station in Baldur's Gate. Gale was already a well-respected member of Waterdeep's upper class, even if he hadn't been active in society for over a year due to the Orb debacle, and Karlach had outright laughed off any possible idea of being ennobled, promoted, commissioned, or anything similar even if she'd been entirely willing to bank her share of the generous rewards we'd all earned by our efforts.

When I'd very diplomatically brought up with her Gortash's onetime evaluation of her as someone who was psychologically a strict follower type and perhaps she might want to be aware of and possibly break out of that habit, she'd simply responded that of course she already knew that about herself and she didn't care. Without honest followers in the world then there couldn't be any leaders who were worth a damn, and since she was damn good at it and entirely fulfilled by the work then why not? And I had to admit, she entirely had a point. Besides, as it was me she'd apparently latched on to as her new liege lord, even if I wasn't really in charge of anything anymore except my own household, then if it ever started going bad for her later then I'd have every opportunity to bring up the topic again.

And as for my "household"… while I'd originally held off on formally betrothing Shadowheart as a recognition of the fact that as close as we were we had only known each for a few weeks, it had taken her – and the remainder of our friends – barely two weeks to get me to reconsider that decision and acknowledge that sometimes there was such a thing as being too cautious. But my delay had at least postponed things long enough that we could have a proper celebration for the occasion with her family present and everything, so I still wasn't apologizing. So she was now formally my fiancée, and when things had had enough months to settle down and we could work out exactly how to invite everyone she'd be my wife, and neither of us wanted anything else.

As to more mundane concerns… well, to put it succinctly we were bidding fair to be set up for life. We had the wealth we'd won adventuring and from the rewards granted us by a grateful city council, my new noble rank, and the fact that I could have had essentially any position in the city government that Ulder Ravengard had the authority to grant me free for the asking and she'd have been deputy High Initiate of the Selunite temple of Baldur's Gate likewise. Plus there were all the commercial and other opportunities potentially available to someone whose prestige was so well and truly that of the hero of the hour. My and Shadowheart's material prospects were as favorable as anyone could expect, and we'd never have needed to delve into another dungeon again unless we felt like it. The Grand Duke would even have been willing to 'reorganize' a few property lines as part of the Upper City's reconstruction and grant us room for a generously-sized mansion and estate.

But that, of course, was not to be our fate.

---

We held my farewell party in the penthouse of the Elfsong. It was a private affair, friends and comrades only, which meant we'd still had to cram several dozen people into our old room.

Lae'zel had returned both to attend my departure and to help close out what official affairs remained unresolved between his court and Baldur's Gate regarding their temporary alliance, just as Orpheus had promised. It was amusing to find out that Lae'zel, who had so legendarily scorned diplomacy when we'd first met, had effectively become the chief diplomatic envoy for Orpheus' court. She was not only his kith'rak with the most experience at living among non-githyanki but was also one of his most mentally flexible people. Furthermore, as a githyanki of the current generation who had had no prior connection with Orpheus' followers prior to his return and yet still solidly within his innermost circle of advisors, Lae'zel was effectively a symbol to the gith at large. Living proof that Orpheus was not merely a political rival attempting to seize power for his own cronies at the expense of Vlaakith but a genuine reformer attempting to offer a new way of living for all gith, longtime Comet conspirators and newly converted alike.

Right now she was deep in conversation with Wyll and Jaheira about how her next mission after this would be as Orpheus' envoy to Shra'kt'lor – the planar capital of the githzerai in the chaotic realm of Limbo. The githzerai were apparently descendants of those gith who had disdained Gith's ambitions of conquest as soon as the original rebellion against the illithids had succeeded and who under the leadership of Gith's colleague Zerthimon had gone off to found their own society among the more chaotic of the Outer Planes, a society based on mysticism and contemplation rather than vengeance and war. The terms 'githyanki' and 'githzerai' dated back to that ancient primeval split – before then they had simply been the gith.

I was awestruck at the thought of how such an ancient separation, one that dated back to even before the usurping of Gith by the first Vlaakith and the githyanki civil war that Orpheus had lost, had even the slightest hope of coming to an end after so many eons of being apart. For even though this was an initial contact only, with no promises of anything to come, githzerai and githyanki had never had so much as an exchange of diplomatic notes throughout all the reigns of the various Vlaakiths and yet they had responded in the affirmative to Orpheus' request for a parley. She was simultaneously nervous to her marrow at the size of the responsibility she'd been burdened with and yet still eagerly looking forward to the challenge. I'd reassured her that Orpheus had chosen her as the best woman for the job not in the expectation that she'd spontaneously develop entirely new skills and abilities when the confrontation arrived but because he believed that she already had every aptitude necessary and was confident that her simply being herself and presenting her appeal as honestly and forthrightly as she'd done with us would be the best thing she could do.

I drifted away from their conclave and over to where Gale was exchanging his own farewells with Elminster. The old sage had come through after all. His analysis of the few clues I could give him about the mystic particularities of Thedas and the nature of the Fade, as well as the analytical magics he'd run on a Thedasian gem I'd given him from the signet ring I'd been wearing when I'd fallen to the Nightmare, had allowed him to calculate a rough estimate of what set of planar characteristics to look for. And when those planar characteristics had been combined with the planar maps painstakingly collated and compiled over the millennia by the githyanki, which Orpheus had given him access to at my request, that was everything we'd needed to get me back home. And so I'd regretfully declined all the offers to grant me a permanent estate here or suchlike, because I wouldn't be remaining here to use them and neither would Shadowheart. It had been almost two months since I'd departed Thedas by now, and it was about time I got back there or else I'd risk the Inquisitor and my older friends finishing killing Corypheus without me.

"And I would hope that you'd pay at least slightly more attention to-" the old archmage was pontificating, before Gale gently shushed him.

"I'll be fine, Elminster. Honestly." Gale grinned at him. "It's just a little planar exploration, any competent archmage can do that!"

"From Hawke's descriptions, magical use on Thedas is perilous indeed my boy." Elminster sighed. "After your narrow escape from one arcane catastrophe I could wish you'd be at least slightly less eager to risk another."

"We don't know why arcane magic on Thedas is so uniquely hazardous, Elminster, and that's precisely why I'm going there with Hawke to find out." Gale replied. "Thedasian mages of reasonably strong will and mental focus can survive it if suitably forewarned, after all, and after having had the Orb and then the tadpole to deal with I'd like to imagine my own mental focus was more than "reasonably" strong. And Hawke's idea of teaching their templars the ways of the paladin is certainly going to do a great deal to improve the lives of mages there, but the problem won't ever really be fixed unless we can figure out what exactly makes them so vulnerable to spirit possession and why their near astral or ethereal space is so aberrantly twisted. Besides, it's the opportunity for me to do something truly groundbreaking in the field of magic! And with magic that's evolved entirely independent of Mystra's regard, even! Can you name anybody on Toril better qualified than me to do that?"

"Of course I can. Myself!" Elminster and Gale shared a chuckle. "But you are quite correct that your breadth of studies both with Mystra's Weave and the divergent lore of Karsus gives you the best chance of analyzing yet a third and completely independent variant of a world's magical fabric than any other mage I know of." He smiled at Gale gently. "And it will give you a chance to achieve something of significance entirely independent of Her, which I think will do your heart a world of good."

"Sometimes you need a little separation before you're ready to get back in the swing of things. But don't worry, Elminster. When I've learned what I need to know there, and hopefully after I've had a chance to teach at least some of their mages safer methods, I will return. I promise you." Gale said with quiet assurance.

"I should certainly hope so, Mr. Dekarios!" the magical winged cat with the voice of a stuffy old matron sitting next to him on a stool chuffed. Tara the tressym was Gale's familiar… and also housekeeper, appointments secretary, and general minder… who had been left behind in Waterdeep when he'd been abducted by the Emperor's nautiloid. She'd shown up in Baldur's Gate shortly after our victory when Gale had sent her a letter to let her know he was still alive and where he was, and she was still annoyed with him for having been out of contact for so long. Even though Gale was entirely upfront about how he'd deliberately not wanted to have her anywhere in the same township as him so long as he was still a potential explosion risk, she was… well, as prideful as a cat. "I am not maintaining your residence all by myself without your at least making some attempt to keep to a more regular schedule!"

"Rest assured that I will be giving you as much assistance in that task as you require, my dear lady." Elminster gestured grandly.

"Hah! You mean stopping by to freeload and empty Mr. Dekarios' larder without so much as a by-your-leave, more like!" Tara glared fearlessly at him, and Elminster laughed even harder.

"But honestly, I really want to run some tests on this 'lyrium' substance Hawke described." Gale continued . "I've got a theory that it might just possibly be-"

The two archmages then fell deep down the academic rabbit hole and I discreetly circulated away from the ever-growing fountain of arcane erudition.

"You're sure about going with them?" Grand Duke Ravengard was asking Karlach as I circulated over towards them. "You know that I or Wyll would entirely be willing to give any respectable position here. And Baldur's Gate is your home, you would be entirely unfamiliar with Thedas."

"That's why exactly I'm going, sir." Karlach said cheerfully. "I spent my whole life in the Gate, then I spent ten years of it trapped in Hell, and then I spent a few weeks of it out on the long road with Hawke and company… and those few weeks were the happiest part of my whole life. Everything new, everything fresh, everything full of sights and sounds I'd never seen before, good fights in good company… and a commander that I could really, really trust. I definitely want some more of that before I think about settling down, and going with Hawke to an entirely new world and a new set of challenges sounds like the best idea ever to me!"

"Entirely understandable." Zevlor smiled at her, proudly dressed in his new uniform as one of the Flaming Fist's senior commanders. "Just remember that home is where, when you have to return there, they have to let you in."

"Karlach, it's almost time." I told her, and she hefted her backpack with an eager grin and followed me.

"It's not too late to take us up on our offer, big guy!" Lakrissa called out cheerfully, as her and Alfira both intercepted us and tackled me in a double hug. "We'd have to rush it a bit, but you can still know tiefling paradise!" Shadowheart looked up from where her and Isobel had been exchanging best wishes and mock-growled and clawed the air at them with her fingernails, and they both giggled back at her shamelessly. Mol, who'd been standing right behind them, laughed so loudly that she almost spilled her drink.

"I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" my betrothed mock-pouted at me.

"I just can't help if it I'm naturally irresistible, dear." I drawled back at her, and she completely lost her expression with helpless giggles.

"Naturally insufferable, perhaps." she replied... before grabbing me and kissing me so shamelessly that the two tiefling ladies began catcalling.

"Hawke." Wyll nodded to me as we all drew around for final handshakes. "I wish I could come with you-"

"But your place is now here." I nodded to him. "As Lae'zel's is now with Orpheus." I nodded to her. "We had one hell of a ride, though, didn't we?"

"Indeed we did." Lae'zel agreed cheerfully. "And perhaps one day we may again. Who can know where the tides of fate will steer them in the future?"

"Certainly not us." Shadowheart agreed.

"We wish you well, dear priestess." Aylin nodded to her. "The Moonmaiden will forever be with you, no matter what sphere you travel to."

"Just so long as her sister isn't." Shadowheart and Isobel traded sly grins.

"It's only a theory that her having had no part in the primordial creation of Thedas means that Shar's potential reach will not be twin-bound to Selune's there, as it is here." Isobel agreed. "But if that is true then your curse can be permanently broken there, with sufficient time and effort."

"If we're really fortunate I can start a whole new center of Selunite worship there, and tip the balance of power against her here." Shadowheart replied. "Which would just be the most ironic thing ever, if the pawn that Shar attempted to subvert and raise to become her Chosen instead ends up becoming her largest headache instead."

"That's an ambition you might want to keep on the back burner until we can see exactly what sort of political environment we'll be dropping into." I said. "The Chantry hasn't had to deal with religious competition in human lands since its founding, and almost certainly won't take to the idea very well. And while the Inquisition has the legal authority to decree otherwise within its own sphere of operation, there's sometimes a difference between what's legally sanctionable and what's practically possible."

"And we've got this Corypheus berk to help sort out first anyway, before we can do things like start working on more long-range projects or set up a nice place for you to invite your parents to come over to." Karlach agreed.

"Good-bye, dear." Shadowheart's mother stepped forward to give her daughter a hug, along with her father. "Do take care of yourself, would you?"

"Not good-bye, mother. Until we meet again." Shadowheart smiled sweetly at them, and then exchanged a last-minute hug with Nocturne as well.

"The parting of dear companions is so tragic! Boo weeps to see you go!" Minsc sniffled. "And yet go you must, for adventure awaits!"

"If this is to be our last meeting, Hawke, then go with our best wishes. And if it is not… then it is not." Jaheira quirked a smile at us.

We finished all our goodbyes and best wishes with everyone else, then picked up our packs and traveling cases and headed to the room where Elminster had set up preparations for the planar portal, with one of Orpheus' gatemakers there to witness exactly how he'd done it so that the githyanki could recreate the feat later. Gale was staggering underneath the weight of the trunk full of written reference materials he was bringing along as hopefully the start of his Torilian academic embassy to Thedasian magecraft, and so I reached out and picked it up for him.

"Is everyone ready?" Elminster asked, and at our affirming nods he raised his staff and the brilliant portal opened.

"All right, everyone." I said confidently. "Let's see what happens."

---

Author's Note: And so we finally reach the end. Our brave heroes have won the day, earned their hero's rewards, and yet the adventure continues.

For those wondering at the whiplash of Hawke returning to Thedas, here's the thing - from the very beginning of the story I had storyboarded out that this tale would end with him going back, only this time with renewed purpose and bringing the things Thedas needed to be saved where canonically it was screwed. Paladin-templars, the chance to crossover-mechanics with d20 magic and thus fix the fatal bugs of Thedasian magic, and a true cleric bringing actual divine spellcasting to a world that had languished without it for literally Maker only knows how long... the upcoming timetrack of Veilguard is now, by author ex cathedra, completely nuked in this continuity. And note that Hawke first brings up the topic of returning with Shadowheart at the start of chapter 38, so it's not even like he ambushed her with it.

Yes, those are indeed the canon endings of the CRPG that Jergal is outlining for the party. He's a greater god, he's allowed to be a bit meta.

Wyll and Lae'zel don't get to go to Thedas because he's got to be the Ravengard heir and she likewise is off as part of Orpheus' inner circle (although as a planar traveller, Lae'zel can conceivably show up later if you want to imagine that happening). So it's the other four that end up doing the grand Thedas adventure. This is both me acknowledging the canon character beats I'm inheriting from the game and the fact that my most commonly used party in BG3 is Tav, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Gale. The author is also licensed to be a bit meta if he wants. *g*

There will be a brief epilogue after this, but the tale is complete.

 

[cliffc999]

Inquisitor Lavellan sat on her throne in the main audience hall of Skyhold and rubbed weary, aching eyes.

It had been almost two months since the ill-fated expedition to the Adamant Fortress, where the Grey Wardens had almost been lured to their doom by the Venatori's deceptions and where the Champion of Kirkwall had had to sacrifice himself to give her and Warden-Commander Loghain the opportunity to escape the Nightmare's trap. Two months of desperate struggles, of fighting and spying and intrigueing and politicking. She and her inner circle had contended and struggled from the trackless depths of the Frostback Basin to the Empress Celene's Winter Court, as the plots of Corypheus and his Venatori were almost without number. And these struggles had not been without victory… but also not without defeat.

And not without sacrifices, the Inquisitor mourned. Hawke had been their most prominent loss, but hundreds of brave men and women had fallen in the Inqusition's name by now. Whether as scouts, soldiers, or even just humble laborers and craftsmen caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, the blood price that had been paid for her victories and her fame weighed heavily on her heart indeed. And yet every single one of those losses had been a tragic necessity, as the threat of Corypheus was an abomination almost entirely from beyond the depths of space and time – an endless all-consuming corruption, a Blight that was utterly hostile to and entirely beyond any peaceful coexistence with man, elf, dwarf, or any remotely wholesome form of life at all.

But the ancient darkspawn magister was the one who was being pressed hard, not the Inquisition. Step by step, inch by bloody inch, the efforts of the Venatori had been found and countered and defeated across the several kingdoms. Whether by soft words or sharp steel, whether by spell or arrow, whether by cunning stratagem or brute force, the Inquisition had met the enemy on whatever field of battle they dared to try and had beaten them all. The enigmatic sorceress Morrigan had just finished sussing out the secret by which Corypheus sustained his eternal unlife. As soon as the Inquisition could find a way to obtain sufficient power to destroy the undead arch-magister's red lyrium dragon, Corypheus' ability to project his soul to new bodies upon the previous body's destruction would be disrupted and they could finally close in on him for the kill.

Lavellan turned to look at Solas, standing silently alongside her in the position traditionally assumed by a court advisor, and sighed and turned away. She had loved him, and he her, but their final meeting had somehow gone wrong. He'd unburdened his heart to her more closely and openly than he ever had, even used his magic to take away her vallaslin, her Dalish tattoos, as a show of his affection and a symbolic unburdening of her from her past – but then he had pulled away at the last moment, repelled or frightened by she knew not what, and since then they had spoken no intimate or private word. He was still her loyal ally and learned fellow mage, still one of the Inquisition's greatest assets, but now he seemed a stranger to her. And with the final defeat of Corypheus he would not even be that, as Solas had already made it plain that when the quest was at last complete then so would be his affiliation with the Inquis-

What was that? Lavellan's head snapped upright as every mage within Skyhold sensed the disruption in the Fade. Something had just happened in the courtyard outside, something that felt like-

"A portal!" Dorian, the rogue Tevinter magister and the Inquisition's other foremost mage, said worriedly. "That's what it felt like – vaguely akin to one of the Venatori's rifts, yet somehow different…"

"Troubling." Solas agreed, as Lavellan and all her party stood on their feet and loosened their weapons in their sheaths.

"Stay calm!" the Inquisitor's voice rang out across the hall, and her people all turned to pay heed to their commander. "There has been a magical ripple outside, but we have no further indication of alarm. Cullen, muster the guard but stay here – I'll look into this personally."

"There's no need." Cole, the strange boy who was actually a spirit of the Fade uniquely embodied in flesh said, his otherworldly awareness bringing knowledge to him that the others could not perceive. "They're coming in to talk to us, and they're friendly. And Varric… this time, seeing will be believing."

"What the heck do you mean by thaaaa-" Varric, the dwarven rogue and merchant prince (often redundant terms) who had been Hawke's lieutenant and man of business all through his Kirkwall adventures and now did much the same for the Inquisition, broke off in midspeech as his jaw literally fell open gaping.

The front doors of Skyhold opened to reveal four figures dressed in either brilliantly polished armor or regal robes, their hands relaxed and away from their weapons and their faces all set in beaming grins. The lead figure was a man many people in Skyhold had seen before, which is almost certainly why the guards had opened the door for him.

The most eye-catching of the newcomers was the red-skinned qunari woman bringing up their rear, her scar-covered body and her one broken horn announcing her status as a veteran warrior in a way even her armor of quality and her sword did not. Almost as tall and muscular as The Iron Bull, the expressiveness of her gestures and the beaming grin on her face – so unlike the usually qunari stoicism or suspicion – indicated that she was almost certainly Tal-Vashoth, a qunari who lived - or often, had grown up entirely outside - the Qun. The sound of a low, impressed whistle was just faintly audible from the Inquisition's own qunari expat warrior/spy.

The other figure that immediately drew the eye was the beautiful young elven woman walking alongside the leader of the party, her hair gleaming an incongruously brilliant silver-white despite the unlined youth of her face. Dressed in armored-cloth robes somehow vaguely reminiscent of a Chantry sister's and yet entirely unlike, she had a spear of brilliant ebony slung on her back and one slim hand lovingly intertwined with the fingers of the man she walked beside.

Looking almost prosaic compared to this exotic company, next to the qunari woman strode a handsome bearded man with a wide confident smile. An elaborate set of blue robes and a finely polished staff informed all who looked upon him that he was a mage. However, his robes were clearly not those of a Circle mage as both the livery and the fashion were entirely different from their standardized ones, and he was equally clearly not from Tevinter given that their own fashions were also quite different and Dorian's example was immediately available as a comparision standard. Yet he was obviously no ragged, impoverished apostate, so where was he from?

But the figure that drew the most attention from everyone was the tall handsome warrior walking hand-in-hand with the beautiful elven priestess. Because despite his strange armor and his unfamiliar helm and greatsword the face and the features of the man were well-known to the Inquisitor and her party, as well as dozens of other people within the audience hall.

"Sorry I'm late." Garrett Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, greeted the Inquisitor and her court. "But I got blown just a bit off course, and it was a very long trip back."

"Hawke." Varric whispered, his voice choked with tears. "How- how could you possibly-?"

"It's me, Varric." Hawke said gently as he drew his old friend into a deep, rib-cracking hug. "This isn't a trick."

"He is no demon, nor imposter." Cole said clearly to reassure the court at large. Behind him Solas cast a wary look at Hawke's new mage companion, apparently sensing something that disquieted him. But the elven apostate shared his thoughts with no one.

"When first we met, I asked you for your advice about Corypheus. What did you tell me?" Lavellan questioned Hawke.

"That after what happened to Kirkwall, you might not want my advice. And then you laughed at me, and told me that you hadn't actually promised that you'd follow it." Hawke replied cheerfully.

"It is you." Lavellan said relievedly, and stepped forward to grasp Hawke's hand in her own. "Thank goodness you're alive. Leaving you behind-"

"Was my idea, Inquisitor, and my sacrifice to make." Hawke bowed respectfully to her. "We need speak no more of it."

"Then all I have to say is welcome back." Varric spoke heavily, as he finally stepped back and attempted to regain his composure. "Maker's breath, when I thought you were gone-"

"If you think your heart is racing now, just wait until he tries to describe to you some of the messes he got into with us." Shadowheart smiled at him. "Hello, Varric. Hawke's told me a great deal about you, and I'm delighted that we could finally meet."

Varric narrowed his eyes knowingly at where her and Hawke had been holding hands. "Oh, I'm sure you are, milady." he said warmly. He turned to his old friend and gave him an insolent smirk. "You really do have a type, don't you Hawke?" Karlach hurriedly muffled a laugh behind her hand.

"I promised to aid the Inquisition with my sword and my counsel. And I'm here to fulfill that promise." Hawke turned back to the Inquisitor and continued more formally. "These are Shadowheart, Gale, and Karlach." he introduced them in turn. "I met them during my… sojourn, and they agreed to come back with me and fight at our side."

"Then I welcome you all to Skyhold, worthy adventurers." Inquisitor Lavellan greeted her new allies. "If Hawke vouches for you so, then I'm certain you will acquit yourselves most admirably."

"I certainly hope so." Gale agreed amusedly. "Who'd want to come all this way just to embarrass themselves?"

"Soooo…" Hawke trailed off amusedly. "What did we miss?"

---

Author's Note: This is literally the very first scene I storyboarded/envisioned in my head, before I had anything else down at all. Everything else I wrote was working backwards from here - or more accurately, improvising desperately backwards from here- and leading up to it. It's the first time I've ever done that while writing, and I'm not sure if I'll do it again, but I certainly like the results I got this time.

Karlach is of course not a qunari, but everybody on Thedas is going to think she's a qunari until she explains different. She does look almost exactly like one, after all, and there are canonically red-skinned qunari. And yes, that's The Iron Bull going "Da-yum! Just look at that hotness!". Remember what his type in women canonically is, and then note that Karlach is dead-center in his strike zone.

What Solas is sensing is of course the fact that Gale is from another world and that his wizardly powers don't use the Thedasian magic system, eevn if Gale can obviously adapt his casting to local conditions, and thus starting to be just a wee bit spooked by the fact that multiple Outside Context Problems from entirely beyond Thedasian conception have just landed right in the middle of his scheme and are all too likely to blow it the hell up. But hey, that's his problem.

And, th-th-th-that's all, folks!

 

[CyberDragonEX]

But hey, that's his problem.

Click to shrink...

Solas: 'I have a bad feeling these people are going to screw me over.'
Readers: "That sounds like a you problem."

 

[Turncoat]

I love this ending. It's a perfect cap off to the story, even if it makes me curious to see what adventures this band of extremely seasoned adventurers will get into going forward.

 

[Luke Sky 001]

Thank you for writing this, it was quite enjoyable reading.

 

[Yacov]

Thanks for the story.

 

[Asmodyne]

Thanks for the story! 10/10, will read again now that it's wrapped. Look forward to what you come out with next!

 

[Cataquack Warrior]

I think this may very well be the first [good] BG3 crossover to reach completion and the end of the game. A momentous achievement, for sure.

 

[TyricGaias]

Thank you for this gift, for allowing your imagination to go wild and free. I love Dragon Age(despite the recent pain) and I love Baldurs Gate. I expect to enjoy both in this way but I did thanks to you. Cheers

 

[sicksock]

Amazing story from start to finish. Bravo!

 

[EdroGrimshell]

...Now I want to see a sequel where the crew take on the Thedas side of things... not going to ask you to do it, I know you write for your own enjoyment, but I've never been big on Dragon Age and this story has gotten me interested.

 

[weirdnessmagnet]

Thanks for the story!

 

[mpbjunkie]

Thank you so much for the story. Now I'll give it a few days and re-read the whole thing altogether. It was a blast.

 

[firefrog600]

Huh I stopped reading your works years ago cause you dropped stuff you wrote. Congrats on finishing something pretty big accomplishment sadly (not that I've ever written anything) as most never do. Good job imma read this whole thing later thanks.

 

[noobody77]

This was a damn fine story man. Serious props for finishing and doing it well.

 

[Matrix Dragon]

What a ride.

 

[OrkKaptin]

Thanks for the ride, Cliff.

Looking forward to your next.