TyricGaias
Know what you're doing yet?
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The Once and Future Champion (Baldur's Gate 3/Dragon Age)
- Thread starter cliffc999
- Start date
Chapter 37
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cliffc999
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Gale's revelation that Mystra was being unhelpful - as well as her own suggested course of action and the level of 'acceptable casualties' she was willing to embrace in pursuit of it - had certainly cast a chill on the proceedings. However, I chose to focus on the more hopeful parts of his revelations - notably, that apparently we still had a legitimate chance to solve it the other way, and that we now knew that Gale's condition would be cured if we did.
I wasn't going to deny that Mystra had made a valid point. We were indeed taking a significant risk with the 'bigger picture' largely in the service of not writing off casualties to the people we were closer to and personally knew more about. I wasn't entirely certain that we should be doing that, if we had a quick and relatively certain route to victory that we could be using instead. But to be purely and coldly focused on only results versus costs, calculating only desired objectives versus probable obstacles while entirely discarding things like citizenship, comradeship, hope, and love... that was mind flayer thinking. The 'Emperor' would have considered Mystra's plan anathema, I was certain - but only because his objective had ultimately been his own self-preservation. The elder brain, on the other hand, would not have hesitated for a second to force any number of thralls on suicide missions or to incinerate any number of innocent bystanders if the boot had been on the other foot, so long as it could remain as safely outside the blast radius as Mystra herself would be.
We'd all sat down and discussed it, and each for our own reasons we'd all agreed that we simply didn't want to be that ruthless. There came a point at which you had to simply remember the reasons you were fighting in the first place, and whether or not the price you'd pay for victory would violate those reasons in the process.
And so we remained committed to our current course of action.
Dawnmaster Arkhold at the Temple of Lathander confirmed that Cazador's palace had contained extensive and recently-updated maps of the sewers underneath Baldur's Gate, maps that had his seneschal had maintained for the use of his spawn in their own covert moments. Some of them were copies of offcial blueprints from the city government's public works projects, and some of them were of his own composition. But all of them had been neatly filed and organized, and the Lathanderite task force's expedition into the vampire lord's palace the day before had not only resulted in the destruction of Cazador and all his spawn, but the capture of all his records. And our perusal of the maps did indeed reveal a region that Cazador had deemed 'too hazardous' for casual exploration, due to the territory being claimed by a 'dark power' that he had felt no need to get in an extended conflict with. So now we had the likely location of the Temple of Bhaal. In addition, his notes on the smuggling routes underneath the Upper City had given us a possible location for the elder brain - a giant underwater grotto reachable from the Chionthar via a half-flooded network of caves.
"Desipte our casualties, we can offer you aid against the Temple of Bhaal." the Dawnmaster offered. "Our raid on Cazador's lair was not without cost but we still maintain the majority of our strength."
"I'm tempted to take you up on that, but we're afraid that the final push against the elder brain is going to result in more than a few mind flayer outbreaks across the city." I said. "Or at the very least we can't afford to discount the possibility. We already know that some people seeded with tadpoles are starting to transform ahead of schedule... or on the elder brain's new schedule. Once we openly threaten it, broadcasting an emergency command to transform is a likely countermove."
"And you wish us to preserve our strength against this contingency." the Dawnmaster nodded.
"You and most of our other allies." I agreed. "But we might need some help with the Temple as well - it depends on what we find out from the final reconnaissance - so have some people on standby. We're fairly certain Orin's doppelgangers have no penetration within our immediate circle, but we're also assuming that anything known even semi-publicly will be brought to her atttention within hours. Or even things discussed in purportedly secret places, if they were places already high on her interest list - such as amongst our new Archduke's staff." I nodded. "So we're alerting everyone, and will only inform those we're actually taking at the last minute."
"We wouldn't even have told you if we weren't certain." Shadowheart contributed. "But we very much doubt that any of her doppelgangers could impersonate Lathander's high priest within his own temple without the Morninglord showing some sign of disfavor."
"Indeed." he nodded. "Very well, my people will prepare as you have requested."
We made similar arrangements with the several other groups of people we were allying with, such as Florrick's loyalists. All of them got the same basic brief - to prepare for a possible series of illithid outbreaks over the city in the endgame, and that we'd be assaulting the Temple of Bhaal the day after tomorrow. Some were asked to have troops standing by to aid in the assault. Others were asked to get ready to support operations elsewhere that would use the timing of our assault as a cover. Some were just being kept informed of current events as a courtesy.
Only one of them knew that all of those requests were disinformation.
"I agree that Orin's been unbelievably patient." Gortash agreed with me calmly. "I'd expected her to take some type of positive action before this, as did you. That's why I wasn't more... insistent... about your relative lack of progress so far."
"But we're running out of time." I nodded. "So now we've got to set a firm timetable and force her to react to it."
"That's entirely self-evident, yes." he nodded smugly. "Remember, though, I cannot lend any direct aid in the attack."
"You're still not constrained from preparing to, however." I smirked. "And when she sees those preparations-"
"-she'll think Lord Bane has freed me to take offensive action, and panic." he nodded. "So, Felogyr's Fireworks will be the location?"
"It's not as if anyone is using it now, are they?" I said. "The Stone Lord's efforts saw to that, even after we'd taken down the Stone Lord himself."
"I have no further use for the property." Gortash agreed smoothly. Despite my best efforts I still couldn't tell if his relative lack of suspicion was real or just a pose. "And if it helps rid us of the problem of Orin..."
"It all comes down to these, yes." I held up Ketheric's Netherstone and admired its gleam, and Gortash tapped the Netherstone on his own wrist with a matching grin and gleam. "To victory." I picked up my wine cup from where it stood on the corner of his desk and raised it high.
"To victory." Gortash matched my toast, and we drank, and then I left his office.
"Did he buy it?" Wyll asked me as I met him downstairs on the main level of Wyrm's Rock, the Mask of the Shapeshifter allowing him to do a perfect impersonation of Gale.
"He's cooperating so far." I agreed. "Where did you say we needed to go?"
"According to Councilor Florrick, the entrance is hidden in the dungeon level of Wyrm's Rock." he answered, as we both slipped discreetly down into the dungeon level.
"And this 'Wyrmway' contains some secret ancient defender for the city?" I pressed him. "How certain of you are this?"
"It's a secret that's been passed down from Grand Duke to Grand Duke ever since the city was founded." Wyll reassured me. "Florrick only knew because Father had shared it with her shortly before his last trip to Elturel, out of fear that she might need it if the burgeoning cult crisis broke loose before he could return." Wyll shook his head sadly. "If only he'd known how bad it would really get..."
"Supposedly this is some ancient dragon that's slumbered down here for centuries." I said. "Not that I haven't seen ancient slumbering dragons before, but for one to be down here?"
"The bronze dragon Ansur helped Balduran found the city, and loved it as much as he did." Wyll affirmed as we passed through the secret entrance he'd been told about and headed down into a long-hidden cavern. "The covenant is that so long as a true hero remains who can pass Balduran's trials and prove their worthiness, Ansur will answer that hero's call when Baldur's Gate is in true need."
"Not going to lie, it sounds like a bit of a stretch to me." I shrugged. "Not because I doubt things like ancient dragons or mystic tests of worthiness, but because dragons are supposed to be intelligent, willful creatures. I can't imagine one just waiting down here to be summoned, instead of taking independent action of its own when a threat to the city arises. Particularly not one as grave as the elder brain. They don't slumber that deeply, do they?"
"... I hadn't thought of that." Wyll agreed. "But Father was one of the least mystical, most hard-headed men I'd ever known. If he believed in this, then I have to believe there's something to it."
"I'm down here with you, aren't I?" I replied. "I agree that we've got to check it out and see if there's anything here. I'm just saying, don't bet everything you've got on this one thing."
"Well, there's definitely something down here." Wyll pointed ahead of us. The caverns we were heading through were giving way to another stone passageway - an ancient passageway, one built in a distinctly different style than the fortress we'd just left. Passing through the door left us in a hallway full of murals and statues. A door stood closed and locked at the passageway's far end.
"Look, that one depicts Balduran and a dragon watching over the city." Wyll pointed at a mural.
"There's an inscription on this statue." I looked at the statue's base. The stone figure depicted the same heroic profile of Balduran that you could see on any number of other statues, carvings, and portraits scattered throughout the city.
And then the statue suddenly spoke.
"Peril flood my province
The palisades fall, the earth does tremble
The servants of shadow and blood assemble
Beyond lies the grand wyrm, deep in slumber
Awaiting a true hero's advent
Should my domain drown in torment
Be you the deluge, turn away
Be you the hero, answer true:
Are you worthy?"
"A magical recording?" I wondered out loud.
"Yes." Wyll nodded. "There's a specific response you need to give... Ancient Ansur, hear me! A champion is proclaimed! The test begins, let your judgement follow!"
The door swung open.
"It seems a bit... elitist, to me." I mused. "It almost feels like he thought 'heroism' were an inherent quality that you either had or you didn't. As opposed to being something anyone could potentially develop via personal growth and proper choices."
"Even the official history of the city depicted Balduran as a bold adventurer and builder of empire, not a paragon of virtue." Wyll agreed. "Still, if there is a gauntlet of evaluations awaiting us that he designed, then we'll have to pay heed to his particular mindset as well as our own."
Beyond the door lay an ancient, weathered courtyard with five passages leading away from it - one very large and magically sealed door straight ahead, and four more leading away at angles of 45 and 90 degrees on either side.
"Four trials to unseal Ansur's lair?" I guessed.
"Seems as if." Wyll nodded. "Which one do you think we should do first?"
"Right side door." I decided after mentally flipping a coin. We passed through the door to enter another chamber, where a statue of Balduran greeted us with another recorded message.
"The Chamber of Courage. A champion burns bright, even when rushing waters and moaning winds threaten to extinguish the flames. Take the torch. Withstand the elements. Prove your courage."
A brazier in front of us lit up with magical blue flames, and as soon as I lit one of the provided torches in it a pair of elementals manifested and attacked us. The air elemental kept trying to blow out the torch, and the water elemental kept launching surges of water at it. An illusion of a glowing hourglass manifested to show us how long we'd have to survive this gauntlet-
A single pulse of my templar powers broke the spell and banished both elementals... and then two more immediately manifested to replace them.
"Defensive actions only." I ordered. "If it can replace them this quickly then we'd just be wasting energy killing them. I'll shield the torch, you keep pushing them back."
"Got it." Wyll agreed, and I used smaller pulses of anti-magic to block the elementals' attacks against the torch while Wyll used the repelling variant of his eldritch blast to keep shoving the elementals back to the other side of the challenge ground over and over again. When we found out that shoving one of the elementals outside the arena boundaries dispelled it, the challenge became even easier. As his eldritch blast didn't actually use any energy, and my own stamina expenditure was minimal, neither of us was particularly winded when the challenge timed out and expired several rounds later.
"Your courage is a beacon to meek and mighty alike. May you ever withstand the raging elements. Proceed."
"I don't feel particularly courageous." I joked as we headed to the next challenge.
"I think Balduran expected whoever took this challenge to actually try and fight all the elementals to the death. Or at least to react as if they were in deadly danger, as opposed to immediately realizing that they were simply trying to attack the torch." Wyll answered.
"Or were at least somewhat less jaded than we were." I sighed. "If you even begin to add up everything that's happened to us in the past couple of weeks, it's absurd."
"True enough." Wyll nodded as we arrived at the next challenge.
The Chamber of Strategy required us to simply solve a chess - or as it was insistently called in Faerun, "lanceboard" - problem, an endgame 'two moves to mate' scenario. Since neither Wyll nor I was a master of the game it took us a while to solve it, but as the challenge wasn't timed and we both knew the rules we eventually worked it out by setting up our own copy of the board using pebbles and lines drawn in the dirt and trial-and-erroring our way through that before actually moving the pieces.
The Chamber of Insight posed us a hypothetical scenario and gave us three bound spirits to interact with, each one of them playing the role of a different advisor. Books scattered around the chamber - annoyingly animated books that gave us a bit of trouble running them down and catching them - gave us more background on each 'advisor'.
"Several of them advise relatively prudent courses of action, and one of them advises that the only proper way to make war is through unflinching use of atrocity." I realized. "So far I'm not feeling particularly 'heroic' from these challenges - the answers are either too obscure or too obvious." We attacked 'Advisor Suelto' and were informed by yet another recorded advice that we had passed the challenge of Insight. Three of the four magical seals on the chamber leading to Ansur's lair were now undone.
"Without access to the sort of magic that would let him create a thinking mind to supervise these challenges, I suppose this simple a rote question-and-answer experience was the best Balduran could manage." Wyll said. "Maybe the role of the challenges is to simply get the aspirant to think about what virtues Balduran considered most appropriate for deciding the fate of Baldur's Gate with, as opposed to rigorously testing for them."
"Courage, Strategy, Insight... and Justice." I nodded as we came to the last challenge chamber. "There are far worse guidelines for a ruler, or a champion."
"He must have been an admirable man... before he became a mind flayer, at any rate." Wyll agreed.
"And yet he still believed himself to be Balduran." I observed. "Chilling."
"Perhaps that was just another lie it was telling, among all the rest." Wyll said comfortingly.
"You'd like to think. And... hmmm." I trailed off. The trial of Justice looked to be an incredibly large clot of supernatural darkness and not much else.
"Even my devil-sight can't see through that." Wyll observed. "Can you dispel it?"
"It feels like I can." I agreed. "But we'd better check out the challenge rules first."
A series of paintings on the outer walls of the chamber depicted a brief morality tale - a man who started out stealing an apple to give it to an orphan child, then who graduated to stealing a precious artifact to keep it for himself, the same man being pursued by a group of guards, and finally that man in the dock facing a judge. Without any obvious clue from these paintings to tell us how to proceed further, I tried dispelling the darkness and it worked.
"The dishonorable judge was banished, but judgement must still be applied." a recorded magical voice told us. With the cloud of darkness now gone, we could see three more paintings set on an inner circle of stands - the thief being set free, the thief being confined to a cell, and the thief being executed. A fourth stand, a blank one, was an obvious invitation to set one of the three paintings upon it.
"A moral about how the corrupt judges are those who are willfully blind to the truth?" I wondered. "Valid, if so."
"So the only question that remains is how Balduran felt about thieves." Wyll said. "I think execution would be a bit harsh."
"Agreed. And letting him go free would probably have been appropriate if it had just been the apple, but he deliberately set up the sequence to show a tale of a man going down a slippery slope. Try for a moderate course of action and choose the sentence of imprisonment?"
"Might as well." Wyll said, and placed the proper painting on the stand.
"You banished the dishonorable judge and applied lex talionis, the principle of the sentence being proportionate to the crime. You are a paragon of justice. Proceed." the recorded voice said.
"Paragon? You'd think that would be the minimum standard of justice." I sighed as we headed back to the main chamber. "This whole experience has been... you can see where it's an excellent try, but it just falls short somehow."
"Bring it up with Ansur when we meet him." Wyll said eagerly. "Which I think we're just about to." The main door now gaped open, all four magical seals undone, and showed us a wide stairway leading down into the depths.
The stairway led to an antechamber at the bottom with another statue of Balduran. It's recorded voice greeted us.
"With courage does the hero march
Fettered by the taxing chains of fear
A stalwart soul must persevere
With insight does the hero choose
Guidance born of ancient wisdom proven
Peace, not strive - the undenied conclusion
With justice does the hero rule
Lead not the guiltless lamb to bloody slaughter
Nor cleanse the lion's sins in sacred water
With strategy does the hero scheme
A cunning mind, a hundred steps ahead
Your allies close, your rivals stunned in dread
Worthy you are found
Go forth, hero - seize your fate
And rise, great wyrm, Heart of the Gate!"
Wyll and I wordlessly looked at each other and shrugged, then headed through the archway into the lair of Ansur. It was a large, spacious cave, with a ceiling dozens of feet overhead - even a large dragon would have considered it comfortably spacious. Great natural crystals, gleaming faintly with magic, provided ample light.
And in the center of the chamber lay the skeleton of a very large dragon, with faded bronzed scales still draped over its fleshless bones.
"He's dead?" Wyll moaned. "He'd passed away in here, just... waiting? For a call he never got a chance to answer?"
"That would answer our earlier question of why he hadn't been more... active." I sighed. "I'm sorry, Wyll."
"Father had hoped so much- by the Triad!" Wyll shouted in alarm, as lightning suddenly crackled over the dragon bones and the great skeleton began to move.
"Don't move!" I called immediately. "If the trials meant anything then we're supposed to be here! Let him see that we're not hostile!"
Wyll resheathed his half-drawn rapier with an effort and moved his hands clear of his sword-belt, just as I did with mine. The animated bones of Ansur the bronze wyrm rose to its feet and glared down at us imperiously. Its eyes glowed, and I was suddenly seized by a paroxysm of magic. I could feel its spirit, its mind, merging with my own like the entire Chionthar was trying to flow through my ears - at flood tide -
"I am Ansur, Heart of the Gate." the words spilled forth from my mouth, although they were not my words. "Butchered in flesh, risen in spirit. Why have you dared come here, thralls?"
"Release my friend!" Wyll demanded angrily. "He is innocent! We are innocent!"
The dragon's mind seemed to withdraw slightly in puzzlement. "You are both implanted with illithid parasites, and yet you remain free? How is this possible?"
"Because I protect them." Orpheus' psionic voice emanated from the Astral Prism. "I am Orpheus, Prince of the Comet, son and heir of Mother Gith. I share her unique gift to free the minds of ghaik slaves from the tyranny of their elder brains."
"Fascinating." the undead Ansur replied, and I felt the great force upon my mind loosen. I regained control of my mouth and limbs as the undead dragon's eyes flared with light even as its corpse remained laying on the ground. "You have passed the four Trials to seek audience with me. Clearly your need is great." the dragon's mental voice continued speaking.
"An illithid elder brain currently lairs underneath Baldur's Gate, only barely imprisoned by ancient and failing Netherese magic. When it breaks free, which it will soon..." I shook my head. "It must be destroyed before that happens."
"A dire tale indeed."Ansur replied. "But I am unfamiiar with any 'Prince of the Comet'. Does not the immortal god-queen Vlaakith rule the githyanki?"
"The usurper Vlaakith certainly does... at present." Orpheus replied matter-of-factly. "And once I have finished helping my allies defeat the elder brain I fully intend to challenge that state of affairs. But that need not be your concern. We seek your aid against the threat to your city only."
"You've fought illithids before?" Wyll asked. "You certainly seem familiar with their parasites."
"My oldest friend was taken by them. Infected by them. Changed by them." Ansur said sadly.
"So he was actually telling the truth?" I gaped.
"You have met him?!?" Ansur's voice raged, as the undead dragon heaved itself to its feet. "You work with the so-called 'Emperor'?!?"
"As if a true son of Mother Gith would ever collaborate with ghaik!" Orpheus replied heatedly. "The creature was executed at my order several days ago!"
Ansur fell back to the ground with a heavy thud. "The 'Emperor'... the creature calling itself Balduran... is dead?" it gasped faintly.
"Yes." I admitted. "He attempted to manipulate us into doing his dirty work for him. With the assistance of Prince Orpheus and his loyalist githyanki, we won free of him."
"The illithid... the thing that was once my friend... I swore to have my vengeance upon it for its having murdered me." Ansur fumed. "And now you tell me that I never can? For this alone I clung to unlife, and now... and now..."
"Tell me of the injustice he did against you, please." I interrupted. "The 'Emperor' mixed lies and truth so ubiquitously in all the time we knew him that we didn't dare believe a thing it said. And now no one else remains who can."
"Balduran and I... we adventured together for a long time. We crossed the Calim together... sailed Yal Tengri... and built a city by the sea. But his wealth... his power... they did not satisfy him. Some years after we'd turned the small village of Grey Harbour into the thriving metropolis now called Baldur's Gate, he set off again to find further adventure... while I remained behind." Ansur sighed. "I should have gone with him. Because that was the last time I saw my friend alive."
"He came back as an illithid?" Wyll asked.
"There was a mind flayer colony some days travel from here, underneath the site of where men later built the settlement of Moonrise Towers." Ansur said. "They captured Balduran during one of his explorations of the region, and implanted him with a parasite."
"This would have been well before the advent of the Netherese-modified parasites we've been implanted with." I thought out loud. "He could only have gotten one of the typical ones. His ceremorphosis would have been completed within a week."
"As indeed it was." Ansur sighed. "When Balduran did not return from his last voyage, I went looking for him. I found only the illithid using his name. I could not destroy the elder brain that enslaved him - I did not dare to even try - but I was able to free him from its domination and bear him with me back to the city. I had not known then how irreversible a transformation ceremorphosis was. I did not understand that the man who had been my dearest friend was already dead, and that only a soulless shell using his name and bearing his memories, but not him, was left." The undead dragon's mental voice grew firmer and harsher."For far too long I deluded myself to the truth, and the creature that claimed his name gladly fostered my delusions. There were times I could convince myself that nothing had changed, that despite his new nature and shape... and diet... he was still largely the same man. He was very convincing, and very charming. As he had always been. And even though he now worked in secret, he still labored for the good of the city - or so he claimed."
"Although few now remember, the githyanki had their own painful lessons in the earliest days as to the horrible truth behind the transformation." Orpheus agreed somberly. "Yours is a familiar tale to me, great dragon. As is its ending."
"I am curious - why does the Prince not show himself?" Ansur asked.
"The artifact Hawke bears was crafted by the first Vlaakith to imprison me perpetually. I have recently obtained the key to my release, but I dare not use it and so announce my return to the usurper queen until my preparations are complete." Orpheus explained.
"I see." Ansur considered. "To continue my tale, I searched ceaselessly for any magic that could restore my friend to himself, while he cemented his covert control over the city more and more. He formed an organization he called the 'Knights of the Shield', a secret society devoted to mastering the city's trade and wealth from the shadows. Assassination... blackmail... mind control... he used all these tools and more. He grew more and more open with the use of his powers as an illithid, and less and less... human. And my search for a cure for his condition likewise foundered on the harsh rocks of reality. Eventually the day came when I realized that my friend was dying, even though his illithid body remained as strong and vital as ever. When I finally acknowledged that there would be no cure, and no way to stop his inevitable degeneration into a monster. So I offered him a merciful death, quick and clean, before the final vestige of his humanity faded from his illithid brain."
"And he betrayed and murdered you before you could realize that said humanity had faded long ago, and what you had seen was only an act - an act that grew more and more threadbare the older and more degenerate the ghaik became." Orpheus agreed. "As I said, great one - yours is a very sad and familiar tale to the gith."
"My undead spirit remained here, trapped, as I could dimly sense what 'the Emperor' did to the people of Baldur's Gate. He called his minions 'allies', but they were only pawns and thralls. The female Duke, the most recent of his catspaws - I dimly sensed her anguish once, when she visited Wyrm's Rock. Balduran had trapped her in her own mind, enslaving her as a puppet. I could do nothing to help her..." Ansur sighed. "I could do nothing to help any of them."
"Duke Stelmane." Wyll realized. "So that was the truth behind her 'stroke'. Damn him!"
"Damn him indeed." Ansur sighed. "And so ended the tale of Ansur, 'Heart of the Gate'. My unfulfilled vengeance against my murderer was the only thing tethering my spirit to unlife.. and now you tell me that it has been achieved for me. I thank you for bearing final witness to my tale. But now... now I must rest..."
"Not quite, I think." I realized. "I'm no expert on ghosts, but shouldn't you have already departed if that were the only thing holding you here?"
"What else is there? I had but one great regret to keep my spirit unquiet, and now it is resolved." Ansur said.
"No." I said. "Because you said that the elder brain that originally converted and enslaved Balduran lived under what later became Moonrise Towers?" I looked the undead dragon square in the eye. "That's the same elder brain we're fighting now. The murderer of your oldest friend is barely three miles from here, great Ansur... and if you can remain in this world for just a little while longer, we'd very much appreciate your help in killing it."
"Tell me more." the undead dragon roared, and so we did.
"I know not if I have the strength to take to the skies once more." Ansur replied after we'd finished explaining the situation to him. "If the 'Emperor' had come down here... if the elder brain were in my direct presence... then perhaps I could have risen to fight once more. But your confrontation with it will occur miles from here... and I am so weary." Ansur replied. "But I will remain here until your battle against the elder brain is concluded, one way or another. I owe you this much at the absolute minimum... and I also owe the elder brain a great deal as well." Ansur said. "And there is assistance I can offer you yet still. The blade of Balduran that the city uses in its ceremonies is a replica. The true artifact is down here, in my lair, along with his helmet. Their powers are mighty still... and I will gift them to you. Bear them with pride."
"Hawke, that's going to have to be you." Wyll said immediately. "Admittedly I'm the native Baldurian and the son of the Grand Duke and you're not, but I don't know how to use a greatsword. Or heavy armor."
"The last time I fought as a city's champion, it didn't end well." I said grimly as I picked up the greatsword and helm from where they lay in a nearby alcove. "Let's hope that Baldur's Gate fares better than Kirkwall did."
"From all that you've said, it wasn't your failure last time either. It was theirs." Wyll nodded as I donned the open-faced greathelm and gave the sword a few experimental swings. The power surged through my limbs in an unprecedented torrent. The helm made me feel like I could withstand almost anything, and the blade was vastly stronger than the 'Sword of Justice' I'd taken from Zariel's warlocks.
"Giantslayer is a mighty weapon indeed. It doubles the wielder's strength, and allows them to temporarily assume the stature of a hill giant in addition. And while Balduran's Helm does not make the wielder immortal, it regenerates their flesh and shields them against being stunned or critically wounded." Ansur said.
"I thank you for this loan, great Ansur." I said.
"They are gifts. So long as you wield them with courage and honor against the elder brain you may then keep them and bear them away as you will, even unto other lands and worlds should you choose." the dragon replied. "I will no longer be here after your victory in any event. It is best that my old friend's legacy go with someone who will use them for a proper cause rather than remain moldering in a tomb. The era of history that Balduran and I defined for this city will end soon. The new era shall forge legends and symbols of its own."
"As it should." I agreed.
We spent the next day making preparations, and mustered everyone who was going to be involved for real for a final last-minute meeting at Felogyr's Fireworks, the now-defunct business where Isobel and Aylin had cleaned up the nest of Banite saboteurs and their explosive plots recently. The ostensible logic behind our using this as a location was that it was a place we had never used before and had no prior non-hostile association with, and even that tangentially, so it would be one of the last places that Orin's people would be looking for us in.
A reconaissance mission into the sewers earlier that afternoon had located the outer entrance to the Bhaalite lair, smack dab in the middle of the section of sewers that Cazador's maps had marked as a no-go zone. We hadn't tried to scout inside, but we now knew exactly where we'd need to concentrate our force in order to successfully raid the temple.
Wyll and Karlach were both here under magical disguises, as we couldn't afford to let too many people see them alive and risk word of that leaking back to Gortash. We'd all checked each other for possible doppelgangers using our tadpoles, then used a Detect Thoughts spell to scan our tadpole-less people such as Isobel and Jaheira. The upper floor of the shop was occupied by our full muster, as well as representatives from the Guild, Jaheira's remnant Harpers, Florrick's loyalists, and a loose network of other supporters that our native Baldurians and allies had been assembling from their contacts. Some of them had only heard about the burgeoning illithid crisis and the existence of the Bhaalite cult for the first time tonight, but everybody would now be in the loop - at least for the things we could afford to have known semi-publicly. Some parts of the plan were being kept only for ourselves...
"And that should-" I trailed off as the Netherstone in my belt pouch gave me a warning twitch. I'd been doing some basic experiments at attuning to it under Gale's and Orpheus' guidance, and while there wasn't much I could do with the stone by itself this far away from the Crown there were still a few basic effects that could be managed. Such as using the Netherstones' connections with each other to sense the presence of another Netherstone in close proximity... and I'd just sensed one approaching.
And since Gortash was firmly ensconced over a mile away from here in Wyrm's Rock's uppermost level and had no intentions to leave until it was safe, that meant-
Orin is here! I thought into my tadpole, and the message was picked up by all of our infected party members. And those of us without them were immediately informed by the whispering of those who were.
I continued on with my briefing as if my previous interruption had been a momentary stray thought and nothing more, not wanting to alert any doppelgangers possibly already in the room that we were onto them. The sweat trickled down the back of my neck as the tension grew more and more...
... and finally, the cultists in the crowd revealed themselves. Fully half a dozen people in this room had been doppelgangers - an inevitable risk, given how many strangers we'd invited and how little we'd been able to invasively check everyone - and all of them were now openly revealed as the inhuman assassins they were.
"Don't!" their apparent leader snarled, as a magical fire cantrip flared to life in his hand and he held it over the nearest barrel. "Any sudden moves and I ignite the smokepowder, and then everybody in this shop is fragments!"
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"Look at how powerless you all are." Orin's voice gloated from somewhere nearby. "So many brave heroes, so much might and magic, but all so futile! You cowered like little mice, all afraid of the big bad cat, and thought we'd just ignore all your scheming and plotting! That we'd just sit still and let you tie your big clumsy bells around our necks!"
"Stop skulking around and come out and fight like a woman!" Shadowheart snarled. "You call us cowardly for not making it easy for you and just baring our necks to your blade like idiots, but you spent days not even trying to assault anything but the softest of targets?"
"The hunter's best friend is patience, little not-Sharran, and we are mighty hunters indeed." Orin sneered. "The chosen of the Murderlord always win in the end, because everything fails in the face of death and we are the true bringers of death, not faded Myrkul or cowardly Bane!"
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"The little lordling's head on a plate." Orin said. "He is shielded against me, just as I am shielded against him. You are the only one who can tip that balance. I know he has already spun his lies for you, but I offer truth."
"What truth is that?" I said.
"The truth that no matter what promises or oaths are made, in the end the three bearers of the stones were always going to be two, then one." Orin giggled. "Ketheric was always going to betray us. The Dark Urge had planned the death of Gortash and Ketheric both even before he had befriended them, let alone before I took his place. And as for myself..." she giggled and squealed. "Well we all know about me, don't we? So what made you think that Gortash had no plans for you?"
"I don't even want to discuss Gortash." I said. "We're talking to you right now."
"Gortash will smile at you until you have served your purpose, then dispose of you without even looking at you." Orin said. "I offer a far more honest transaction. Bring Gortash's Netherstone and his head to me, and then we shall duel in the sacred sanctum - with my Father as the judge. One against one, winner take all. No tricks, no traps."
"Right, and I'm supposed to take my one single mortal self and blade up against the Avatar of Bhaal." I replied. "Do you really think I didn't know what you had waiting for us down there?"
"But you don't have a choice!" Orin giggled. "You chose this shop for your meeting place! You thought obscurity would be your security, and now you have yourself and all your allies standing in the middle of dozens of barrels of smokepowder! You fool! You will go and slay Gortash now, while this entire building full of hostages remains - or I shall simply have my servants detonate the smokepowder and salvage your Netherstone from the wreckage, and then find another way to slay Gortash! No more stalling, no more delaying! You decide now!"
"There you are." I said, walking over to the window ledge to stare at the woman watching us all from the rooftop across the street - right where she could duck out of the blast radius. "It took me a while to pinpoint the location of your Netherstone... what, you didn't know that we could track each other through these, so long as we got close enough first?"
"Stop!" Orin called. "One more move and-"
"And what?" I grinned.
"My servants will not hesitate to die in the name of Bhaal!" Orin cried wildly. "And you can't stop them all!" I noted out of the corner of my eye that all the other remaining doppelgangers had picked out their own smokepowder barrel to detonate and now held fire-spells or lit torches. "One flick of my finger and everybody in that building enters eternity!"
"No." I said flatly.
"No?" Orin goggled.
"I'm calling your bluff." I stated with confidence I didn't quite feel. "If you could have moved against Gortash on your own, you already would have. You can't get that job done without me, so you'll threaten only but never actually commit-"
"Kill them!" Orin screeched.
-and the evening remained silent. No explosions sounded, no fires raged out. The doppelgangers all stared incredously at the barrels they'd just tried and failed to ignite, and then they all died as everybody nearest to them with a weapon cut the shapeshifters down before they could mentally catch up.
"We had Nine-Fingers' people swapping out the barrels all last night, before we ever started spreading the word that there'd be a meeting here today." I told Orin smugly. "We only left enough smokepowder in them to give off the right smell. Your people died trying to ignite barrels full of sand." And even the explosives cached in the basement had been rendered inert, so whatever backup force she might have had down there would also be no threat.
"You-" Orin's eyes widened as she finally realized that this had all been a trap. We'd deliberately let the word spread that we'd be making a full-force assault on her sanctum tomorrow so as to make her desperate to regain some kind of tactical initiative with a spoiling attack the night before. We'd then given her a prime target to aim at, and ample opportunity to infiltrate it... and sure enough, she'd swallowed the bait. After all, if the Temple of Bhaal was such an incredibly hard target for us to assault, then the only rational solution would be to not go there.
And so after days of trying and failing we'd finally managed to make Orin come to us.
She immediately turned to run, of course. That was the only possible thing she could do now that her hostage gambit had failed. But she didn't get ten feet before we'd helplessly halted her in her tracks.
Because we'd known that she was a pathological sadist, and sadists gloated. There was no way she would ever set us up for doom without placing herself where we could see her taunting us in our helplessness... and once she'd exposed herself to our line-of-sight she was dead meat for Gale's telekinesis spell. It was child's play for him to pull her off the roof and leave her dangling in mid-over over the street, and not even the most superhumanly agile combatant in the world could do anything to run or dodge with their feet off the ground.
Orin shrieked in maddened rage and went for her ultimate last-ditch gambit - assuming the form of the Slayer, the demi-avatar form of Bhaal that he'd gifted his most powerful Bhaalspawn with. The sheer mass of the Slayer form broke Orin free of Gale's telekinesis and she began to drop to the street...
... but by that point Lae'zel had used her own telekinetic bracers to levitate the Ironhand Gnomes' runepowder bomb through the air and right into Orin's face. With a very short fuse that had already been lit. And then Isobel simply used her own Resilient Sphere again to confine Orin in with the bomb, just as she'd once confined Ketheric, and... well, that was that. The incredible force of the runepowder bomb was magically neutralized by the invulnerable sphere, but not before it had reduced everything not absolutely indestructible inside the sphere to vapor. Orin was dead and her Netherstone was ours for the taking.
Now came the hard part.
Author's Note: Again, I apologize for the premature posting earlier, but this new keyboard is being a pain in the ass. Hopefully I'll work the kinks out soon enough.
And yes, it took me forever to get here. The anticipation for the battle against Orin had built so high that I needed a huge blowout, but every time I tried to script any kind of scenario in the Temple of Bhaal shit just fell apart worse and worse. It's perhaps the most unsatisfying boss fight in the game, given how absurdly Orin cheats (she has seven stacks of invulnerability that refresh every turn down there, in addition to all the other cheats that Bhaal is amping her with), and I've never gotten through it without cheat mods. Writing it had me stalled as fuck, as all viable solutions just turned into another boring round of 'jump her with all the homies'.
Until I finally realized that the solution was simply to avoid the temple entirely, once I realized that I got this entire chapter to flow for me in just a few hours after days and days of being stalled. And so Orin dies in a way even less climactic than simply jumping her with all the homies... but hopefully far more entertaining.
I wasn't going to deny that Mystra had made a valid point. We were indeed taking a significant risk with the 'bigger picture' largely in the service of not writing off casualties to the people we were closer to and personally knew more about. I wasn't entirely certain that we should be doing that, if we had a quick and relatively certain route to victory that we could be using instead. But to be purely and coldly focused on only results versus costs, calculating only desired objectives versus probable obstacles while entirely discarding things like citizenship, comradeship, hope, and love... that was mind flayer thinking. The 'Emperor' would have considered Mystra's plan anathema, I was certain - but only because his objective had ultimately been his own self-preservation. The elder brain, on the other hand, would not have hesitated for a second to force any number of thralls on suicide missions or to incinerate any number of innocent bystanders if the boot had been on the other foot, so long as it could remain as safely outside the blast radius as Mystra herself would be.
We'd all sat down and discussed it, and each for our own reasons we'd all agreed that we simply didn't want to be that ruthless. There came a point at which you had to simply remember the reasons you were fighting in the first place, and whether or not the price you'd pay for victory would violate those reasons in the process.
And so we remained committed to our current course of action.
Dawnmaster Arkhold at the Temple of Lathander confirmed that Cazador's palace had contained extensive and recently-updated maps of the sewers underneath Baldur's Gate, maps that had his seneschal had maintained for the use of his spawn in their own covert moments. Some of them were copies of offcial blueprints from the city government's public works projects, and some of them were of his own composition. But all of them had been neatly filed and organized, and the Lathanderite task force's expedition into the vampire lord's palace the day before had not only resulted in the destruction of Cazador and all his spawn, but the capture of all his records. And our perusal of the maps did indeed reveal a region that Cazador had deemed 'too hazardous' for casual exploration, due to the territory being claimed by a 'dark power' that he had felt no need to get in an extended conflict with. So now we had the likely location of the Temple of Bhaal. In addition, his notes on the smuggling routes underneath the Upper City had given us a possible location for the elder brain - a giant underwater grotto reachable from the Chionthar via a half-flooded network of caves.
"Desipte our casualties, we can offer you aid against the Temple of Bhaal." the Dawnmaster offered. "Our raid on Cazador's lair was not without cost but we still maintain the majority of our strength."
"I'm tempted to take you up on that, but we're afraid that the final push against the elder brain is going to result in more than a few mind flayer outbreaks across the city." I said. "Or at the very least we can't afford to discount the possibility. We already know that some people seeded with tadpoles are starting to transform ahead of schedule... or on the elder brain's new schedule. Once we openly threaten it, broadcasting an emergency command to transform is a likely countermove."
"And you wish us to preserve our strength against this contingency." the Dawnmaster nodded.
"You and most of our other allies." I agreed. "But we might need some help with the Temple as well - it depends on what we find out from the final reconnaissance - so have some people on standby. We're fairly certain Orin's doppelgangers have no penetration within our immediate circle, but we're also assuming that anything known even semi-publicly will be brought to her atttention within hours. Or even things discussed in purportedly secret places, if they were places already high on her interest list - such as amongst our new Archduke's staff." I nodded. "So we're alerting everyone, and will only inform those we're actually taking at the last minute."
"We wouldn't even have told you if we weren't certain." Shadowheart contributed. "But we very much doubt that any of her doppelgangers could impersonate Lathander's high priest within his own temple without the Morninglord showing some sign of disfavor."
"Indeed." he nodded. "Very well, my people will prepare as you have requested."
We made similar arrangements with the several other groups of people we were allying with, such as Florrick's loyalists. All of them got the same basic brief - to prepare for a possible series of illithid outbreaks over the city in the endgame, and that we'd be assaulting the Temple of Bhaal the day after tomorrow. Some were asked to have troops standing by to aid in the assault. Others were asked to get ready to support operations elsewhere that would use the timing of our assault as a cover. Some were just being kept informed of current events as a courtesy.
Only one of them knew that all of those requests were disinformation.
"I agree that Orin's been unbelievably patient." Gortash agreed with me calmly. "I'd expected her to take some type of positive action before this, as did you. That's why I wasn't more... insistent... about your relative lack of progress so far."
"But we're running out of time." I nodded. "So now we've got to set a firm timetable and force her to react to it."
"That's entirely self-evident, yes." he nodded smugly. "Remember, though, I cannot lend any direct aid in the attack."
"You're still not constrained from preparing to, however." I smirked. "And when she sees those preparations-"
"-she'll think Lord Bane has freed me to take offensive action, and panic." he nodded. "So, Felogyr's Fireworks will be the location?"
"It's not as if anyone is using it now, are they?" I said. "The Stone Lord's efforts saw to that, even after we'd taken down the Stone Lord himself."
"I have no further use for the property." Gortash agreed smoothly. Despite my best efforts I still couldn't tell if his relative lack of suspicion was real or just a pose. "And if it helps rid us of the problem of Orin..."
"It all comes down to these, yes." I held up Ketheric's Netherstone and admired its gleam, and Gortash tapped the Netherstone on his own wrist with a matching grin and gleam. "To victory." I picked up my wine cup from where it stood on the corner of his desk and raised it high.
"To victory." Gortash matched my toast, and we drank, and then I left his office.
"Did he buy it?" Wyll asked me as I met him downstairs on the main level of Wyrm's Rock, the Mask of the Shapeshifter allowing him to do a perfect impersonation of Gale.
"He's cooperating so far." I agreed. "Where did you say we needed to go?"
"According to Councilor Florrick, the entrance is hidden in the dungeon level of Wyrm's Rock." he answered, as we both slipped discreetly down into the dungeon level.
"And this 'Wyrmway' contains some secret ancient defender for the city?" I pressed him. "How certain of you are this?"
"It's a secret that's been passed down from Grand Duke to Grand Duke ever since the city was founded." Wyll reassured me. "Florrick only knew because Father had shared it with her shortly before his last trip to Elturel, out of fear that she might need it if the burgeoning cult crisis broke loose before he could return." Wyll shook his head sadly. "If only he'd known how bad it would really get..."
"Supposedly this is some ancient dragon that's slumbered down here for centuries." I said. "Not that I haven't seen ancient slumbering dragons before, but for one to be down here?"
"The bronze dragon Ansur helped Balduran found the city, and loved it as much as he did." Wyll affirmed as we passed through the secret entrance he'd been told about and headed down into a long-hidden cavern. "The covenant is that so long as a true hero remains who can pass Balduran's trials and prove their worthiness, Ansur will answer that hero's call when Baldur's Gate is in true need."
"Not going to lie, it sounds like a bit of a stretch to me." I shrugged. "Not because I doubt things like ancient dragons or mystic tests of worthiness, but because dragons are supposed to be intelligent, willful creatures. I can't imagine one just waiting down here to be summoned, instead of taking independent action of its own when a threat to the city arises. Particularly not one as grave as the elder brain. They don't slumber that deeply, do they?"
"... I hadn't thought of that." Wyll agreed. "But Father was one of the least mystical, most hard-headed men I'd ever known. If he believed in this, then I have to believe there's something to it."
"I'm down here with you, aren't I?" I replied. "I agree that we've got to check it out and see if there's anything here. I'm just saying, don't bet everything you've got on this one thing."
"Well, there's definitely something down here." Wyll pointed ahead of us. The caverns we were heading through were giving way to another stone passageway - an ancient passageway, one built in a distinctly different style than the fortress we'd just left. Passing through the door left us in a hallway full of murals and statues. A door stood closed and locked at the passageway's far end.
"Look, that one depicts Balduran and a dragon watching over the city." Wyll pointed at a mural.
"There's an inscription on this statue." I looked at the statue's base. The stone figure depicted the same heroic profile of Balduran that you could see on any number of other statues, carvings, and portraits scattered throughout the city.
And then the statue suddenly spoke.
"Peril flood my province
The palisades fall, the earth does tremble
The servants of shadow and blood assemble
Beyond lies the grand wyrm, deep in slumber
Awaiting a true hero's advent
Should my domain drown in torment
Be you the deluge, turn away
Be you the hero, answer true:
Are you worthy?"
"A magical recording?" I wondered out loud.
"Yes." Wyll nodded. "There's a specific response you need to give... Ancient Ansur, hear me! A champion is proclaimed! The test begins, let your judgement follow!"
The door swung open.
"It seems a bit... elitist, to me." I mused. "It almost feels like he thought 'heroism' were an inherent quality that you either had or you didn't. As opposed to being something anyone could potentially develop via personal growth and proper choices."
"Even the official history of the city depicted Balduran as a bold adventurer and builder of empire, not a paragon of virtue." Wyll agreed. "Still, if there is a gauntlet of evaluations awaiting us that he designed, then we'll have to pay heed to his particular mindset as well as our own."
Beyond the door lay an ancient, weathered courtyard with five passages leading away from it - one very large and magically sealed door straight ahead, and four more leading away at angles of 45 and 90 degrees on either side.
"Four trials to unseal Ansur's lair?" I guessed.
"Seems as if." Wyll nodded. "Which one do you think we should do first?"
"Right side door." I decided after mentally flipping a coin. We passed through the door to enter another chamber, where a statue of Balduran greeted us with another recorded message.
"The Chamber of Courage. A champion burns bright, even when rushing waters and moaning winds threaten to extinguish the flames. Take the torch. Withstand the elements. Prove your courage."
A brazier in front of us lit up with magical blue flames, and as soon as I lit one of the provided torches in it a pair of elementals manifested and attacked us. The air elemental kept trying to blow out the torch, and the water elemental kept launching surges of water at it. An illusion of a glowing hourglass manifested to show us how long we'd have to survive this gauntlet-
A single pulse of my templar powers broke the spell and banished both elementals... and then two more immediately manifested to replace them.
"Defensive actions only." I ordered. "If it can replace them this quickly then we'd just be wasting energy killing them. I'll shield the torch, you keep pushing them back."
"Got it." Wyll agreed, and I used smaller pulses of anti-magic to block the elementals' attacks against the torch while Wyll used the repelling variant of his eldritch blast to keep shoving the elementals back to the other side of the challenge ground over and over again. When we found out that shoving one of the elementals outside the arena boundaries dispelled it, the challenge became even easier. As his eldritch blast didn't actually use any energy, and my own stamina expenditure was minimal, neither of us was particularly winded when the challenge timed out and expired several rounds later.
"Your courage is a beacon to meek and mighty alike. May you ever withstand the raging elements. Proceed."
"I don't feel particularly courageous." I joked as we headed to the next challenge.
"I think Balduran expected whoever took this challenge to actually try and fight all the elementals to the death. Or at least to react as if they were in deadly danger, as opposed to immediately realizing that they were simply trying to attack the torch." Wyll answered.
"Or were at least somewhat less jaded than we were." I sighed. "If you even begin to add up everything that's happened to us in the past couple of weeks, it's absurd."
"True enough." Wyll nodded as we arrived at the next challenge.
The Chamber of Strategy required us to simply solve a chess - or as it was insistently called in Faerun, "lanceboard" - problem, an endgame 'two moves to mate' scenario. Since neither Wyll nor I was a master of the game it took us a while to solve it, but as the challenge wasn't timed and we both knew the rules we eventually worked it out by setting up our own copy of the board using pebbles and lines drawn in the dirt and trial-and-erroring our way through that before actually moving the pieces.
The Chamber of Insight posed us a hypothetical scenario and gave us three bound spirits to interact with, each one of them playing the role of a different advisor. Books scattered around the chamber - annoyingly animated books that gave us a bit of trouble running them down and catching them - gave us more background on each 'advisor'.
"Several of them advise relatively prudent courses of action, and one of them advises that the only proper way to make war is through unflinching use of atrocity." I realized. "So far I'm not feeling particularly 'heroic' from these challenges - the answers are either too obscure or too obvious." We attacked 'Advisor Suelto' and were informed by yet another recorded advice that we had passed the challenge of Insight. Three of the four magical seals on the chamber leading to Ansur's lair were now undone.
"Without access to the sort of magic that would let him create a thinking mind to supervise these challenges, I suppose this simple a rote question-and-answer experience was the best Balduran could manage." Wyll said. "Maybe the role of the challenges is to simply get the aspirant to think about what virtues Balduran considered most appropriate for deciding the fate of Baldur's Gate with, as opposed to rigorously testing for them."
"Courage, Strategy, Insight... and Justice." I nodded as we came to the last challenge chamber. "There are far worse guidelines for a ruler, or a champion."
"He must have been an admirable man... before he became a mind flayer, at any rate." Wyll agreed.
"And yet he still believed himself to be Balduran." I observed. "Chilling."
"Perhaps that was just another lie it was telling, among all the rest." Wyll said comfortingly.
"You'd like to think. And... hmmm." I trailed off. The trial of Justice looked to be an incredibly large clot of supernatural darkness and not much else.
"Even my devil-sight can't see through that." Wyll observed. "Can you dispel it?"
"It feels like I can." I agreed. "But we'd better check out the challenge rules first."
A series of paintings on the outer walls of the chamber depicted a brief morality tale - a man who started out stealing an apple to give it to an orphan child, then who graduated to stealing a precious artifact to keep it for himself, the same man being pursued by a group of guards, and finally that man in the dock facing a judge. Without any obvious clue from these paintings to tell us how to proceed further, I tried dispelling the darkness and it worked.
"The dishonorable judge was banished, but judgement must still be applied." a recorded magical voice told us. With the cloud of darkness now gone, we could see three more paintings set on an inner circle of stands - the thief being set free, the thief being confined to a cell, and the thief being executed. A fourth stand, a blank one, was an obvious invitation to set one of the three paintings upon it.
"A moral about how the corrupt judges are those who are willfully blind to the truth?" I wondered. "Valid, if so."
"So the only question that remains is how Balduran felt about thieves." Wyll said. "I think execution would be a bit harsh."
"Agreed. And letting him go free would probably have been appropriate if it had just been the apple, but he deliberately set up the sequence to show a tale of a man going down a slippery slope. Try for a moderate course of action and choose the sentence of imprisonment?"
"Might as well." Wyll said, and placed the proper painting on the stand.
"You banished the dishonorable judge and applied lex talionis, the principle of the sentence being proportionate to the crime. You are a paragon of justice. Proceed." the recorded voice said.
"Paragon? You'd think that would be the minimum standard of justice." I sighed as we headed back to the main chamber. "This whole experience has been... you can see where it's an excellent try, but it just falls short somehow."
"Bring it up with Ansur when we meet him." Wyll said eagerly. "Which I think we're just about to." The main door now gaped open, all four magical seals undone, and showed us a wide stairway leading down into the depths.
The stairway led to an antechamber at the bottom with another statue of Balduran. It's recorded voice greeted us.
"With courage does the hero march
Fettered by the taxing chains of fear
A stalwart soul must persevere
With insight does the hero choose
Guidance born of ancient wisdom proven
Peace, not strive - the undenied conclusion
With justice does the hero rule
Lead not the guiltless lamb to bloody slaughter
Nor cleanse the lion's sins in sacred water
With strategy does the hero scheme
A cunning mind, a hundred steps ahead
Your allies close, your rivals stunned in dread
Worthy you are found
Go forth, hero - seize your fate
And rise, great wyrm, Heart of the Gate!"
Wyll and I wordlessly looked at each other and shrugged, then headed through the archway into the lair of Ansur. It was a large, spacious cave, with a ceiling dozens of feet overhead - even a large dragon would have considered it comfortably spacious. Great natural crystals, gleaming faintly with magic, provided ample light.
And in the center of the chamber lay the skeleton of a very large dragon, with faded bronzed scales still draped over its fleshless bones.
"He's dead?" Wyll moaned. "He'd passed away in here, just... waiting? For a call he never got a chance to answer?"
"That would answer our earlier question of why he hadn't been more... active." I sighed. "I'm sorry, Wyll."
"Father had hoped so much- by the Triad!" Wyll shouted in alarm, as lightning suddenly crackled over the dragon bones and the great skeleton began to move.
"Don't move!" I called immediately. "If the trials meant anything then we're supposed to be here! Let him see that we're not hostile!"
Wyll resheathed his half-drawn rapier with an effort and moved his hands clear of his sword-belt, just as I did with mine. The animated bones of Ansur the bronze wyrm rose to its feet and glared down at us imperiously. Its eyes glowed, and I was suddenly seized by a paroxysm of magic. I could feel its spirit, its mind, merging with my own like the entire Chionthar was trying to flow through my ears - at flood tide -
"I am Ansur, Heart of the Gate." the words spilled forth from my mouth, although they were not my words. "Butchered in flesh, risen in spirit. Why have you dared come here, thralls?"
"Release my friend!" Wyll demanded angrily. "He is innocent! We are innocent!"
The dragon's mind seemed to withdraw slightly in puzzlement. "You are both implanted with illithid parasites, and yet you remain free? How is this possible?"
"Because I protect them." Orpheus' psionic voice emanated from the Astral Prism. "I am Orpheus, Prince of the Comet, son and heir of Mother Gith. I share her unique gift to free the minds of ghaik slaves from the tyranny of their elder brains."
"Fascinating." the undead Ansur replied, and I felt the great force upon my mind loosen. I regained control of my mouth and limbs as the undead dragon's eyes flared with light even as its corpse remained laying on the ground. "You have passed the four Trials to seek audience with me. Clearly your need is great." the dragon's mental voice continued speaking.
"An illithid elder brain currently lairs underneath Baldur's Gate, only barely imprisoned by ancient and failing Netherese magic. When it breaks free, which it will soon..." I shook my head. "It must be destroyed before that happens."
"A dire tale indeed."Ansur replied. "But I am unfamiiar with any 'Prince of the Comet'. Does not the immortal god-queen Vlaakith rule the githyanki?"
"The usurper Vlaakith certainly does... at present." Orpheus replied matter-of-factly. "And once I have finished helping my allies defeat the elder brain I fully intend to challenge that state of affairs. But that need not be your concern. We seek your aid against the threat to your city only."
"You've fought illithids before?" Wyll asked. "You certainly seem familiar with their parasites."
"My oldest friend was taken by them. Infected by them. Changed by them." Ansur said sadly.
"So he was actually telling the truth?" I gaped.
"You have met him?!?" Ansur's voice raged, as the undead dragon heaved itself to its feet. "You work with the so-called 'Emperor'?!?"
"As if a true son of Mother Gith would ever collaborate with ghaik!" Orpheus replied heatedly. "The creature was executed at my order several days ago!"
Ansur fell back to the ground with a heavy thud. "The 'Emperor'... the creature calling itself Balduran... is dead?" it gasped faintly.
"Yes." I admitted. "He attempted to manipulate us into doing his dirty work for him. With the assistance of Prince Orpheus and his loyalist githyanki, we won free of him."
"The illithid... the thing that was once my friend... I swore to have my vengeance upon it for its having murdered me." Ansur fumed. "And now you tell me that I never can? For this alone I clung to unlife, and now... and now..."
"Tell me of the injustice he did against you, please." I interrupted. "The 'Emperor' mixed lies and truth so ubiquitously in all the time we knew him that we didn't dare believe a thing it said. And now no one else remains who can."
"Balduran and I... we adventured together for a long time. We crossed the Calim together... sailed Yal Tengri... and built a city by the sea. But his wealth... his power... they did not satisfy him. Some years after we'd turned the small village of Grey Harbour into the thriving metropolis now called Baldur's Gate, he set off again to find further adventure... while I remained behind." Ansur sighed. "I should have gone with him. Because that was the last time I saw my friend alive."
"He came back as an illithid?" Wyll asked.
"There was a mind flayer colony some days travel from here, underneath the site of where men later built the settlement of Moonrise Towers." Ansur said. "They captured Balduran during one of his explorations of the region, and implanted him with a parasite."
"This would have been well before the advent of the Netherese-modified parasites we've been implanted with." I thought out loud. "He could only have gotten one of the typical ones. His ceremorphosis would have been completed within a week."
"As indeed it was." Ansur sighed. "When Balduran did not return from his last voyage, I went looking for him. I found only the illithid using his name. I could not destroy the elder brain that enslaved him - I did not dare to even try - but I was able to free him from its domination and bear him with me back to the city. I had not known then how irreversible a transformation ceremorphosis was. I did not understand that the man who had been my dearest friend was already dead, and that only a soulless shell using his name and bearing his memories, but not him, was left." The undead dragon's mental voice grew firmer and harsher."For far too long I deluded myself to the truth, and the creature that claimed his name gladly fostered my delusions. There were times I could convince myself that nothing had changed, that despite his new nature and shape... and diet... he was still largely the same man. He was very convincing, and very charming. As he had always been. And even though he now worked in secret, he still labored for the good of the city - or so he claimed."
"Although few now remember, the githyanki had their own painful lessons in the earliest days as to the horrible truth behind the transformation." Orpheus agreed somberly. "Yours is a familiar tale to me, great dragon. As is its ending."
"I am curious - why does the Prince not show himself?" Ansur asked.
"The artifact Hawke bears was crafted by the first Vlaakith to imprison me perpetually. I have recently obtained the key to my release, but I dare not use it and so announce my return to the usurper queen until my preparations are complete." Orpheus explained.
"I see." Ansur considered. "To continue my tale, I searched ceaselessly for any magic that could restore my friend to himself, while he cemented his covert control over the city more and more. He formed an organization he called the 'Knights of the Shield', a secret society devoted to mastering the city's trade and wealth from the shadows. Assassination... blackmail... mind control... he used all these tools and more. He grew more and more open with the use of his powers as an illithid, and less and less... human. And my search for a cure for his condition likewise foundered on the harsh rocks of reality. Eventually the day came when I realized that my friend was dying, even though his illithid body remained as strong and vital as ever. When I finally acknowledged that there would be no cure, and no way to stop his inevitable degeneration into a monster. So I offered him a merciful death, quick and clean, before the final vestige of his humanity faded from his illithid brain."
"And he betrayed and murdered you before you could realize that said humanity had faded long ago, and what you had seen was only an act - an act that grew more and more threadbare the older and more degenerate the ghaik became." Orpheus agreed. "As I said, great one - yours is a very sad and familiar tale to the gith."
"My undead spirit remained here, trapped, as I could dimly sense what 'the Emperor' did to the people of Baldur's Gate. He called his minions 'allies', but they were only pawns and thralls. The female Duke, the most recent of his catspaws - I dimly sensed her anguish once, when she visited Wyrm's Rock. Balduran had trapped her in her own mind, enslaving her as a puppet. I could do nothing to help her..." Ansur sighed. "I could do nothing to help any of them."
"Duke Stelmane." Wyll realized. "So that was the truth behind her 'stroke'. Damn him!"
"Damn him indeed." Ansur sighed. "And so ended the tale of Ansur, 'Heart of the Gate'. My unfulfilled vengeance against my murderer was the only thing tethering my spirit to unlife.. and now you tell me that it has been achieved for me. I thank you for bearing final witness to my tale. But now... now I must rest..."
"Not quite, I think." I realized. "I'm no expert on ghosts, but shouldn't you have already departed if that were the only thing holding you here?"
"What else is there? I had but one great regret to keep my spirit unquiet, and now it is resolved." Ansur said.
"No." I said. "Because you said that the elder brain that originally converted and enslaved Balduran lived under what later became Moonrise Towers?" I looked the undead dragon square in the eye. "That's the same elder brain we're fighting now. The murderer of your oldest friend is barely three miles from here, great Ansur... and if you can remain in this world for just a little while longer, we'd very much appreciate your help in killing it."
"Tell me more." the undead dragon roared, and so we did.
"I know not if I have the strength to take to the skies once more." Ansur replied after we'd finished explaining the situation to him. "If the 'Emperor' had come down here... if the elder brain were in my direct presence... then perhaps I could have risen to fight once more. But your confrontation with it will occur miles from here... and I am so weary." Ansur replied. "But I will remain here until your battle against the elder brain is concluded, one way or another. I owe you this much at the absolute minimum... and I also owe the elder brain a great deal as well." Ansur said. "And there is assistance I can offer you yet still. The blade of Balduran that the city uses in its ceremonies is a replica. The true artifact is down here, in my lair, along with his helmet. Their powers are mighty still... and I will gift them to you. Bear them with pride."
"Hawke, that's going to have to be you." Wyll said immediately. "Admittedly I'm the native Baldurian and the son of the Grand Duke and you're not, but I don't know how to use a greatsword. Or heavy armor."
"The last time I fought as a city's champion, it didn't end well." I said grimly as I picked up the greatsword and helm from where they lay in a nearby alcove. "Let's hope that Baldur's Gate fares better than Kirkwall did."
"From all that you've said, it wasn't your failure last time either. It was theirs." Wyll nodded as I donned the open-faced greathelm and gave the sword a few experimental swings. The power surged through my limbs in an unprecedented torrent. The helm made me feel like I could withstand almost anything, and the blade was vastly stronger than the 'Sword of Justice' I'd taken from Zariel's warlocks.
"Giantslayer is a mighty weapon indeed. It doubles the wielder's strength, and allows them to temporarily assume the stature of a hill giant in addition. And while Balduran's Helm does not make the wielder immortal, it regenerates their flesh and shields them against being stunned or critically wounded." Ansur said.
"I thank you for this loan, great Ansur." I said.
"They are gifts. So long as you wield them with courage and honor against the elder brain you may then keep them and bear them away as you will, even unto other lands and worlds should you choose." the dragon replied. "I will no longer be here after your victory in any event. It is best that my old friend's legacy go with someone who will use them for a proper cause rather than remain moldering in a tomb. The era of history that Balduran and I defined for this city will end soon. The new era shall forge legends and symbols of its own."
"As it should." I agreed.
We spent the next day making preparations, and mustered everyone who was going to be involved for real for a final last-minute meeting at Felogyr's Fireworks, the now-defunct business where Isobel and Aylin had cleaned up the nest of Banite saboteurs and their explosive plots recently. The ostensible logic behind our using this as a location was that it was a place we had never used before and had no prior non-hostile association with, and even that tangentially, so it would be one of the last places that Orin's people would be looking for us in.
A reconaissance mission into the sewers earlier that afternoon had located the outer entrance to the Bhaalite lair, smack dab in the middle of the section of sewers that Cazador's maps had marked as a no-go zone. We hadn't tried to scout inside, but we now knew exactly where we'd need to concentrate our force in order to successfully raid the temple.
Wyll and Karlach were both here under magical disguises, as we couldn't afford to let too many people see them alive and risk word of that leaking back to Gortash. We'd all checked each other for possible doppelgangers using our tadpoles, then used a Detect Thoughts spell to scan our tadpole-less people such as Isobel and Jaheira. The upper floor of the shop was occupied by our full muster, as well as representatives from the Guild, Jaheira's remnant Harpers, Florrick's loyalists, and a loose network of other supporters that our native Baldurians and allies had been assembling from their contacts. Some of them had only heard about the burgeoning illithid crisis and the existence of the Bhaalite cult for the first time tonight, but everybody would now be in the loop - at least for the things we could afford to have known semi-publicly. Some parts of the plan were being kept only for ourselves...
"And that should-" I trailed off as the Netherstone in my belt pouch gave me a warning twitch. I'd been doing some basic experiments at attuning to it under Gale's and Orpheus' guidance, and while there wasn't much I could do with the stone by itself this far away from the Crown there were still a few basic effects that could be managed. Such as using the Netherstones' connections with each other to sense the presence of another Netherstone in close proximity... and I'd just sensed one approaching.
And since Gortash was firmly ensconced over a mile away from here in Wyrm's Rock's uppermost level and had no intentions to leave until it was safe, that meant-
Orin is here! I thought into my tadpole, and the message was picked up by all of our infected party members. And those of us without them were immediately informed by the whispering of those who were.
I continued on with my briefing as if my previous interruption had been a momentary stray thought and nothing more, not wanting to alert any doppelgangers possibly already in the room that we were onto them. The sweat trickled down the back of my neck as the tension grew more and more...
... and finally, the cultists in the crowd revealed themselves. Fully half a dozen people in this room had been doppelgangers - an inevitable risk, given how many strangers we'd invited and how little we'd been able to invasively check everyone - and all of them were now openly revealed as the inhuman assassins they were.
"Don't!" their apparent leader snarled, as a magical fire cantrip flared to life in his hand and he held it over the nearest barrel. "Any sudden moves and I ignite the smokepowder, and then everybody in this shop is fragments!"
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"Look at how powerless you all are." Orin's voice gloated from somewhere nearby. "So many brave heroes, so much might and magic, but all so futile! You cowered like little mice, all afraid of the big bad cat, and thought we'd just ignore all your scheming and plotting! That we'd just sit still and let you tie your big clumsy bells around our necks!"
"Stop skulking around and come out and fight like a woman!" Shadowheart snarled. "You call us cowardly for not making it easy for you and just baring our necks to your blade like idiots, but you spent days not even trying to assault anything but the softest of targets?"
"The hunter's best friend is patience, little not-Sharran, and we are mighty hunters indeed." Orin sneered. "The chosen of the Murderlord always win in the end, because everything fails in the face of death and we are the true bringers of death, not faded Myrkul or cowardly Bane!"
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"The little lordling's head on a plate." Orin said. "He is shielded against me, just as I am shielded against him. You are the only one who can tip that balance. I know he has already spun his lies for you, but I offer truth."
"What truth is that?" I said.
"The truth that no matter what promises or oaths are made, in the end the three bearers of the stones were always going to be two, then one." Orin giggled. "Ketheric was always going to betray us. The Dark Urge had planned the death of Gortash and Ketheric both even before he had befriended them, let alone before I took his place. And as for myself..." she giggled and squealed. "Well we all know about me, don't we? So what made you think that Gortash had no plans for you?"
"I don't even want to discuss Gortash." I said. "We're talking to you right now."
"Gortash will smile at you until you have served your purpose, then dispose of you without even looking at you." Orin said. "I offer a far more honest transaction. Bring Gortash's Netherstone and his head to me, and then we shall duel in the sacred sanctum - with my Father as the judge. One against one, winner take all. No tricks, no traps."
"Right, and I'm supposed to take my one single mortal self and blade up against the Avatar of Bhaal." I replied. "Do you really think I didn't know what you had waiting for us down there?"
"But you don't have a choice!" Orin giggled. "You chose this shop for your meeting place! You thought obscurity would be your security, and now you have yourself and all your allies standing in the middle of dozens of barrels of smokepowder! You fool! You will go and slay Gortash now, while this entire building full of hostages remains - or I shall simply have my servants detonate the smokepowder and salvage your Netherstone from the wreckage, and then find another way to slay Gortash! No more stalling, no more delaying! You decide now!"
"There you are." I said, walking over to the window ledge to stare at the woman watching us all from the rooftop across the street - right where she could duck out of the blast radius. "It took me a while to pinpoint the location of your Netherstone... what, you didn't know that we could track each other through these, so long as we got close enough first?"
"Stop!" Orin called. "One more move and-"
"And what?" I grinned.
"My servants will not hesitate to die in the name of Bhaal!" Orin cried wildly. "And you can't stop them all!" I noted out of the corner of my eye that all the other remaining doppelgangers had picked out their own smokepowder barrel to detonate and now held fire-spells or lit torches. "One flick of my finger and everybody in that building enters eternity!"
"No." I said flatly.
"No?" Orin goggled.
"I'm calling your bluff." I stated with confidence I didn't quite feel. "If you could have moved against Gortash on your own, you already would have. You can't get that job done without me, so you'll threaten only but never actually commit-"
"Kill them!" Orin screeched.
-and the evening remained silent. No explosions sounded, no fires raged out. The doppelgangers all stared incredously at the barrels they'd just tried and failed to ignite, and then they all died as everybody nearest to them with a weapon cut the shapeshifters down before they could mentally catch up.
"We had Nine-Fingers' people swapping out the barrels all last night, before we ever started spreading the word that there'd be a meeting here today." I told Orin smugly. "We only left enough smokepowder in them to give off the right smell. Your people died trying to ignite barrels full of sand." And even the explosives cached in the basement had been rendered inert, so whatever backup force she might have had down there would also be no threat.
"You-" Orin's eyes widened as she finally realized that this had all been a trap. We'd deliberately let the word spread that we'd be making a full-force assault on her sanctum tomorrow so as to make her desperate to regain some kind of tactical initiative with a spoiling attack the night before. We'd then given her a prime target to aim at, and ample opportunity to infiltrate it... and sure enough, she'd swallowed the bait. After all, if the Temple of Bhaal was such an incredibly hard target for us to assault, then the only rational solution would be to not go there.
And so after days of trying and failing we'd finally managed to make Orin come to us.
She immediately turned to run, of course. That was the only possible thing she could do now that her hostage gambit had failed. But she didn't get ten feet before we'd helplessly halted her in her tracks.
Because we'd known that she was a pathological sadist, and sadists gloated. There was no way she would ever set us up for doom without placing herself where we could see her taunting us in our helplessness... and once she'd exposed herself to our line-of-sight she was dead meat for Gale's telekinesis spell. It was child's play for him to pull her off the roof and leave her dangling in mid-over over the street, and not even the most superhumanly agile combatant in the world could do anything to run or dodge with their feet off the ground.
Orin shrieked in maddened rage and went for her ultimate last-ditch gambit - assuming the form of the Slayer, the demi-avatar form of Bhaal that he'd gifted his most powerful Bhaalspawn with. The sheer mass of the Slayer form broke Orin free of Gale's telekinesis and she began to drop to the street...
... but by that point Lae'zel had used her own telekinetic bracers to levitate the Ironhand Gnomes' runepowder bomb through the air and right into Orin's face. With a very short fuse that had already been lit. And then Isobel simply used her own Resilient Sphere again to confine Orin in with the bomb, just as she'd once confined Ketheric, and... well, that was that. The incredible force of the runepowder bomb was magically neutralized by the invulnerable sphere, but not before it had reduced everything not absolutely indestructible inside the sphere to vapor. Orin was dead and her Netherstone was ours for the taking.
Now came the hard part.
Author's Note: Again, I apologize for the premature posting earlier, but this new keyboard is being a pain in the ass. Hopefully I'll work the kinks out soon enough.
And yes, it took me forever to get here. The anticipation for the battle against Orin had built so high that I needed a huge blowout, but every time I tried to script any kind of scenario in the Temple of Bhaal shit just fell apart worse and worse. It's perhaps the most unsatisfying boss fight in the game, given how absurdly Orin cheats (she has seven stacks of invulnerability that refresh every turn down there, in addition to all the other cheats that Bhaal is amping her with), and I've never gotten through it without cheat mods. Writing it had me stalled as fuck, as all viable solutions just turned into another boring round of 'jump her with all the homies'.
Until I finally realized that the solution was simply to avoid the temple entirely, once I realized that I got this entire chapter to flow for me in just a few hours after days and days of being stalled. And so Orin dies in a way even less climactic than simply jumping her with all the homies... but hopefully far more entertaining.
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TyricGaias
Know what you're doing yet?
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The build up was worth it. Loving your take on the battles
Matrix Dragon
Getting sticky.
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Outmaneuvering the one that thinks you're dancing on their strings. It's a trial run for what they HOPE will be the case with Gortesh 
Matrix Dragon
Getting sticky.
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It's easy to be the Hard Man Making Hard Choices (While Hard) when it's people you don't care about paying the price. Often, the real hard choice is to take the risk.
ArcAngelOfDeath&Taxes
Making the rounds.
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Be you facing dragon or demon or demigod, nothing evens the playing field like high explosives.
Caldeon Clay, Smokepowder Nights
Well, I will admit, I hadn't seen this coming. But frankly it's possibly the most fitting end for a Chosen of Baal to die so badly.
Caldeon Clay, Smokepowder Nights
Well, I will admit, I hadn't seen this coming. But frankly it's possibly the most fitting end for a Chosen of Baal to die so badly.
High Lord Azal
Not too sore, are you?
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Not quite barrelmancy, but good on you for thinking like a true American.
Lucid Lunacy
Seeking the Threshold
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I feel ya there; I've had this laptop for three years and change now, and the combination of it's size and positioning versus my hands... ugh.
That last paragraph had me grinning at the imagined expression on her face. I was reminded of Looney Tunes, and TFS!Trunks killing Imperfect Cell after going home.
Mizu
Software Developer
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That's a pretty great trick, yup, for both readers and Oein. Thought they were about to raid her base, but it was a trap to lure her outside - shortly followed by a very big explosion.
Can you use the big bomb + invulnerable sphere trick in the game on enemies?
Can you use the big bomb + invulnerable sphere trick in the game on enemies?
cliffc999
Connoisseur.
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No, you can't.
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Cheesing fights with flexible thinking, and a highly interactive world.
Typical BG3.
Typical BG3.
Matrix Dragon
Getting sticky.
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... Orin does have that 'oh shut the fuck up and just DIE' feel to her, doesn't she?
Or she did.
DIT_grue
lurker
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Delete this word (it's redundant and out of order).
subterranean
I don't think this is right? Previously they hadn't been able to help, because they had to reserve their people for the raid. Now that that is wrapped up, they have the free forces to contribute; it's not something with continuity from their last conversation.
doppelgangers
raised
I think both of these are redundant with "my old friend's legacy" and should be deleted.
Somebodynobody10
Versed in the lewd.
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A bit of a shame. I considered the idea that 'since the dragon could join their party but is just a bit constrained in leaving the room, couldn't the resurrector god just bring him back as his soul and bones are right there?'
Domino
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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The dragon doesn't want to come back. They are ancient and exhausted and wounded in spirit, and only duty has kept them tethered to this world for this long.
They've also been dead for longer than mortal magic can revive, so Withers can't use the "I'm only providing what is technically non-divine levels of support" loophole.
Simonbob
Really? You don't say.
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Yeah, I thought that, too.
Even it it won't happen, it's a pretty awesome thought.
Somebodynobody10
Versed in the lewd.
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Isn't there a type of resurrection magic a mortal can use that *would* be able to do that? Just, not as easily as the version usually used by Withers?
Matrix Dragon
Getting sticky.
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If Withers doesn't have access to it, then no.
cliffc999
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Regarding resurrection magic, note that regardless of what else is or is not going on no mortal agency can resurrect someone who doesn't want to return.
Note that even in this story, the part where Isobel's resurrection was not voluntary was the only clue necessary to figure out that divine meddling had occurred.
Note that even in this story, the part where Isobel's resurrection was not voluntary was the only clue necessary to figure out that divine meddling had occurred.
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Domino
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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No. In 5e, the longest something can be dead and still successfully raised 200 years, and only if they are willing and someone is using True Resurrection. Ansur has been dead for much longer than that, and would need a deity's direct intervention, to say nothing of Ansur's unwillingness to return to life in the first place
The best one could do is destroy Ansur and then use Necromancy to rip Ansur's spirit out of the afterlife and back into their body as an intelligent undead bound to your will, but that's obviously a non-starter for this party.
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Simonbob
Really? You don't say.
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And somewhat stupid, too.
Cypher3au
Not too sore, are you?
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Interestingly, going purely by the spell descriptions, that's not entirely true.
Revivify has no such restrictions on the target having to be willing...I guess the thinking is that if the body has been dead less than a minute, then the soul hasn't left it yet.
cliffc999
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Yeah. Revivify is a medical resuscitation only, every other one has to get the soul back from the Outer Planes.
Kencord
Went to the darkest reaches, took a light. Regret.
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"That's right team! With the Power of Friendship, my undiagnosed PTSD, and that thermobaric explosive the gnomes gave us, we can beat any evil!"
".....Hawke, what the fuck?"
"Truly, the Real thermobaric explosive was the friends we made along the way...."
"Think we lost him. Shit, you try Greater Restoration, then we see if a 'Roundtrip Withers' fixes this..."
".....Hawke, what the fuck?"
"Truly, the Real thermobaric explosive was the friends we made along the way...."
"Think we lost him. Shit, you try Greater Restoration, then we see if a 'Roundtrip Withers' fixes this..."