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

Every version of Mystra, well maybe not the first version, has some really sketchy grooming of Chosen. Elminster's whole weird apprenticeship under a dominatrix Sharran wizardess who was really Mystra in disguise was weird and creepy and it doesn't generally get better.
 
Every version of Mystra, well maybe not the first version, has some really sketchy grooming of Chosen. Elminster's whole weird apprenticeship under a dominatrix Sharran wizardess who was really Mystra in disguise was weird and creepy and it doesn't generally get better.
Mystryl ( the original ) was mostly OK, because it was only interested in magic. Of course she had to die because Karsus dick was too small for his ego.

Ironically, IIRC Mystryl was a daughter of Selune & Shar, before their "messy divorce"...
 
I did some research a while back for a reddit thread on the topic of Mystra and Gale:

BG3 takes place in the year 1492. Mystra died in 1385 and resurrected in 1479. This means that even if she met Gale almost immediately after and not after she'd regained her full divinity in 1487, then Gale can only have known her for a maximum of twelve years. He's 35, so he can't have been younger than 23 when they first met.

Mystra is actually not that much older than him, weirdly. See, we're on the third version of Mystra. The previous version was killed by Helm in 1358, and a mortal named Midnight was tapped to take her place as the new Mystra. She died barely thirty years into her godhood and spent a century dead/torpid before being resurrected. Given that she didn't actually regain her godhood until 1487, it's likely that Gale's association with her is only five years to present.
Disturbingly, what happens with Gale is hardly the worst the goddess of magic in the Forgotten Realms has done. The second version, also named Mystra, once horribly gaslit some guy just so she could create the Seven Sisters. She did this by possessing his wife for years to birth the kids which slowly killed the wife and the poor guy went crazy upon finding out what had happened:

Vessel of Mystra

It was not until the Year of Drifting Stars, 760 DR that "Elué" fervidly returned Dornal's feelings; in reality, it was Mystra, possessing the previously reluctant Elué, who seduced the half-elf's admirer. When Mystra revealed her intentions to her mortal vessel, Elué was glad to continue sharing her faculties with the Mistress of Magic.[2][3]

Elué met her future husband's dying mother when they settled into Silverhand Tower. The old woman seemed to recognize her as an old friend she had made in her dreams, though Elminster believed these dreams to have been brought forth by Mystra's hand.[1] Regardless, it was that same year that Elué and Dornal finally married.[2][3]

For the next seven years, beginning in the Year of Laughter, 761 DR, Elué became pregnant. She gave birth to six beautiful, silver-haired girls, but by the time she was pregnant with their seventh child in the Year of the Awakening Wyrm, 767 DR, Elué was no longer the same. The process had aged and withered her terribly, making her something similar to a lich, worrying Dornal. In his desperation to understand what was taking her, and his chances of having a son, from him, he had Elué inspected by a priest of Tyche. The Neveren man, Unsible, could not fully grasp the truth of what was possessing Elué, only that it was sentient and powerful, a revelation that further troubled her husband. At some point afterwards, Elué walked through a moonlit glade with Dornal—where he severed her head from her shoulders, ending her suffering.[2][3] There her corpse remained, without its head, before it was found and her grim fate was learned.[6]
The goddess Mystra, having decided to breed individuals that would be suitable to act as her Chosen, set her sights upon Dornal, as he was seen by her as the ideal human for her purposes. Dornal met the half-elf Elué Shundar, a reclusive sorceress known then as the Lady of the Gate.[1] The two met in a brief battle, as Dornal had incorrectly believed her to be an evil sorceress, but was then smitten by her. Elminster later theorized that Mystra may have manipulated events in order to ensure their meeting.[4]

Aware of the ranger's love for Elué, Mystra possessed her and seduced Dornal, who found his advances quickly and passionately rewarded. Mystra used Elué's magic to both strengthen and dazzle Dornal. While at first Mystra's possession of Elué happened without her knowledge, the use of the sorceress's powers forced the goddess to reveal herself to her, and Elué agreed to share her body with the Lady of Mysteries.[1] The couple traveled together for two years across the North, until both relocated to Silverhand Tower. There, Dornal's ailing mother accepted Elué with open arms, as she had seen her in dream visions as the "sorceress in the moonlight".[4]

Dornal and Mystra/Elué were wed in the Year of Drifting Stars, 760 DR.[1] While living in Silverhand Tower for the next seven years, Dornal and Mystra (through Elué's body) gave birth to six daughters. They first welcomed Anastra Syluné Silverhand in the Year of Laughter, 761 DR; followed by Endué Alustriel (762 DR); Ambara Dove (763 DR); Ethena Astorma (764 DR); Anamanué Laeral (765 DR); and Alassra Shentrantra (766 DR), as well as conceiving Erésseae Qilué (767 DR).[1][3]

During this process, however, Elué's body became increasingly withered and, by the time of her final pregnancy, she had effectively become a creature akin to a lich, held together only by Mystra's power. Meanwhile, Dornal had become increasingly unhappy. Not only did he wish to father a son as well as his daughters, he was dismayed at the way his beloved wife was decaying. Fearing her death, Dornal desperately sought to save Elué through magical means. The most powerful priest Dornal found was Unsible, a cleric of Tyche based in Neverwinter. He informed Dornal that his wife was being possessed by an intelligent and powerful force, though the cleric did not identify Mystra as the entity responsible.[1]

Sickened, Dornal decided to relieve Elué's suffering by slaying her. Using a moonlit walk through a glade as pretext, Dornal cut off his wife's head. He was then confronted by Mystra, who'd been finally forced to reveal herself. Broken by what he'd done, and appalled by Mystra's manipulation of both him and his wife, Dornal was filled with bitterness at the goddess, who tried to console him to no avail. Seeing only two alternatives, to either destroy the ranger's mind and transform him into a witless servant, or to spare him and set him free, Mystra decided to let Dornal go, and went on to devise a plan to save the final unborn daughter's life, which succeeded.[1]

In grief, Dornal walked away from his wife's corpse, and abandoned both his lands and children. For the next two decades, the adventurer went on a rampage across the North, attacking brigands and monsters, and especially evil mages whom he nurtured a deep hatred for, seeking to be killed by them in his reckless attacks. Mystra protected Dornal, helping him survive the battles throughout those years. Eventually, in the Year of the Hearthstone 797 DR, Dornal was mortally wounded while fighting singlehandedly against raiding orcs on a hillside. Having deduced the identity of the goddess that had protected him for so long, Dornal's last words were a plea for Mystra to remember him. Deeply touched by the gesture, Mystra offered Dornal a chance to exist as one her servants, which he accepted.[1]


Assuming the identity of the Watcher, Dornal wandered Toril, seeking individuals with potential to be Chosen of Mystra, as well as identifying magical problems. The Watcher continued his service while largely unnoticed by mortals throughout the centuries, well into the 14th century DR.[1] He was one of the few who understood the true value of the Seven Sisters.[2]
 
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So it was merely a bad relationship, not that kind of bad relationship. Got it. TY for research.

Oh, they're not the only ones. Apparently everyone somehow forgot that Bane has been alive and well since 3e as the premier power of evil next to Shar, while Myrkul enjoyed being free of the limitations of godhood. I can't count the number of times that someone tried to argue over their portfolios either.

(Briefly, OG Bhaal governed death itself and OG Myrkul ruled the dead; 5e just stuck Bhaal with murder and Myrkul with the psychopomp bit).
 
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Remember that the Second Sundering is less than ten years before the start of BG3 (which is 1492 DR), and the Dead Three had a serious status change and knockdown caused by that one.

But I can't blame BG3 for that - a whole lot of changes that were not popular in BG3, such as the true identity of 'Mother Superior' and the fate of certain Bhaalspawn, turned out to actually derive from 5e editorial mandates and not Larian's own idears.
 
But I can't blame BG3 for that - a whole lot of changes that were not popular in BG3, such as the true identity of 'Mother Superior' and the fate of certain Bhaalspawn, turned out to actually derive from 5e editorial mandates and not Larian's own idears.
Were both confirmed to be from WotC material?
 
Were both confirmed to be from WotC material?
The NPC who is 'Mother Superior' that I am carefully not spoiling had already heel turned back to evil as far back as the 1360s DR, in the 'Heroes of Baldur's Gate' 5e sourcebook... which came out four years before the videogame.

So every time I see people blame Larian for 'she was good and they turned her evil again! stupid videogame!', I wince. WotC did that shit on their own back before the videogame ever existed.

Further discussion should probably in the videogame rants thread.
 
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Not sure why anyone is surprised by a Drow choosing evil.
 
The NPC who is 'Mother Superior' that I am carefully not spoiling had already heel turned back to evil as far back as the 1360s DR, in the 'Heroes of Baldur's Gate' 5e sourcebook... which came out four years before the videogame.

So every time I see people blame Larian for 'she was good and they turned her evil again! stupid videogame!', I wince. WotC did that shit on their own back before the videogame ever existed.

Further discussion should probably in the videogame rants thread.

Man, I remember how WotC turned Xzar into a Bhaalspawn (and had him drawn as a sad clown) and then had Viconia drawn in golden full plate.

The priestess of the goddess of darkness, with her Str 10 and Con 8, decked out as a full battle cleric with a red cape and gold armor.
 
And yes, I am dealing with the question of 'how the hell can Hawke even talk to anybody without translation magic if he's from a completely different alternate Prime?

The simplest solution is probably the best I find.

The answer of course being that Hawke can't understand the language any more than anyone else can understand him without use of magic or a very skilled translator with a lot of time on their hands.

Which would no doubt be a massive headache for him if he didn't have a telepathic parasite in his head that allows him to 'borrow' skills and knowledge from other people in the network.

Food for thought.
 
The simplest solution is probably the best I find.

The answer of course being that Hawke can't understand the language any more than anyone else can understand him without use of magic or a very skilled translator with a lot of time on their hands.

Which would no doubt be a massive headache for him if he didn't have a telepathic parasite in his head that allows him to 'borrow' skills and knowledge from other people in the network.

Food for thought.
Well that sounds worth a no-prize.
 
Honestly a pretty good idea if we ever want to bring up the language issue. Tadpoles gave language sharing so the slaves can communicate with each other and need less micromanagement from the important people. However, probably best to just ignore it. Everyone is used to just handwaving language gaps in fiction anyway.
 
Chapter 10 New
The entire party sat in on the negotiations between Shadowheart and Lae'zel regarding the mysterious Prism and our next move with it. The discussion started out tense and only devolved from there. Not least because of the other personal revelations that came out during them.

"You're a priestess of Shar?" Wyll asked incredulously. Because Shadowheart had finally felt forced to reveal herself underneath the 'exigencies' clause she'd mentioned earlier, as the only way of explaining why bringing the artifact to her superiors in Baldur's Gate was not only a desirable goal for her but a necessary one.

"You really don't act like the ones I saw back in Baldur's Gate." Karlach nodded.

"Yes!" Shadowheart declaimed exasperatedly. "Now do you begin to understand just how much I can't afford to fail in my mission?"

Lae'zel looked at her uncomprehendingly. "I fail to see what difference the exact identity of your divine patron makes."

"Lae'zel, what would Vlaakith do to someone who deliberately failed in the recovery of something she had ordered brought to her at all costs?" I asked her. Not that I knew anything about githyanki religion but I had at least heard Lae'zel swear by the name before.

"Oh." Lae'zel blinked in realization, before turning to Shadowheart. "The penalty for failure in this 'Church of Shar'... it is execution?"

"For simple failure, not always." Shadowheart demurred. "But for betrayal? Death is a mercy compared to what will happen."

"There's also that her current memories are being held by this 'Mother Superior' of Shar, and she needs to get them back." Gale pointed out logically.

"To have one's very mind and self held hostage...' Lae'zel looked momentarily appalled, before her expression firmed. "But as Hawke has so aptly pointed out, I face a similar fate should I deliberately turn a blind eye to the Prism's theft." Lae'zel looked at Shadowheart with what on anyone else I would have said was sympathy. "And yet while we are both sworn to act as loyal members of this party we are at an impasse."

"And there's no words that can solve this issue." Shadowheart agreed. "I simply can't hand it over to the githyanki, and you can't not do that, and both of our lives are forfeit if we fail."

"Truth." Lae'zel said, squaring her shoulders. "I see only one path forward from there, then. It is no betrayal of our bond of comradeship if we both agree."

Shadowheart nodded back to Lae'zel somberly. "If we can't stab each other in the back for it, then it'll just have to be in the front."

"Now hang on a minute-" I thundered, rising to my feet.

"A duel to the death, in all honor." Lae'zel nodded to Shadowheart. "I will meet you-"

"No one is meeting anyone anywhere!" I demanded.

"Hawke." Shadowheart turned to me, her eyes regretful yet poised. "I know how much you didn't want this to end this way... and neither did I, really." She turned to Lae'zel. "You've been a loyal ally, and perhaps one that I should have respected more than I did. But both of us have our duty, and neither one will forsake it."

"And so, the battlefield." Lae'zel nodded back to Shadowheart respectfully. "If I fall to your mace, I will go to Vlaakith without shame. If you fall to my blade, may your Dark Lady receive you with equal honor-"

And then a miniature thunderclap sounded around our campfire, with a flash like lightning to accompany it, and when we finally all blinked away the spots in front of our eyes-

"The artifact!" Shadowheart cried desperately, clutching at her now-empty belt patch. "It's gone!"

"Our minds!" Wyll said, leaping to his feet. "The Absolute-!"

I reached down and confirmed what the additional weight on my belt had already told me - somehow, unaccountably, the Prism had transported itself from Shadowheart's custody to mine. Wordlessly, I reached into my own belt pouch and brought it forth on my palm for all to see. "Apparently this has enough sentience to understand at least some of what's going on around it... and react to it." I looked down narrowly at the rune-encrusted polygon. "And whatever's in there doesn't want us killing each other over it."

"Give it back!" Shadowheart demanded, almost leaping forward before restraining herself. "Please!"

I had to restrain an impulse to immediately hand it over when confronted with her desperation, and sighed inwardly at what I'd already known about how compromised my feelings are. "I don't think I'll be allowed to," I reasoned out, "but we'll try." I reached out, laid the Prism directly on the ground between us all, was mildly surprised when my fingers were actually able to unclench from it... and then was entirely unsurprised when the artifact leapt back through the air and into my hand the instant Lae'zel and Shadowheart both started to lean forwards towards it.

"Tchk." Lae'zel grunted. "This seems almost too convenient."

"It is." I agreed with her. "But it's not me doing this." I looked closer. "Lae'zel, you said last night that these were githyanki runes. What do they tell you?'

"This is githyanki tir'su script." she agreed, cautiously leaning forward to peer more closely at the Prism. "Every word a wheel, every letter a spoke. The possible cipherings range from the elementary patterns that every child knows to ones that only the most erudite gish can hope to comprehend." She looked up at me. "Much of the script here is beyond my ability to translate. I can read only several of these symbols - they name this as the Astral Prism, a most holy artifact of the githyanki..." her eyes widened in shock. "And- and the personal property of our immortal god-queen, Vlaakith." she trailed off faintly.

"You're thinking a divine manifestation just happened here?" Shadowheart said, horrified. "But no, that doesn't make sense! The will of Vlaakith should have wanted me dead for taking that!"

"Agreed." Lae'zel said. "And had I known this before the Astral Prism removed our immediate cause for dispute, I would have been compelled to-" She shook her head angrily. "I also doubt this event was the will of Vlaakith, but that does not matter any longer. Hawke now holds the Astral Prism, and I already have his agreement on what we should do with it."

"I'm sorry." I said to Shadowheart, as she turned to me appalled. "I hadn't remotely anticipated this would happen-" I held up the Prism. "But I did give my word to Lae'zel, and now I'm bound by it." I continued as reassuringly as I could. "You didn't choose to let this go. It was taken from you by force, and you couldn't recover it even if I allowed you to - as we just tested!" I shook my head. "Perhaps failure, but not betrayal. And a failure that's not even your fault."

"And a cold comfort that will be, when I face Mother Superior over it." Shadowheart said chillingly. "Thank you ever so much."

I accepted that with as much grace as possible under the circumstances. "This isn't what I wanted." I trailed off. "I'm not sure what I wanted, but this wasn't it."

"Embrace loss." Shadowheart half-chanted to herself, visibly straining to recover her composure. "All right. You're correct in that there's nothing either of us can do right now to change the Astral Prism's mind on this.. and also correct that our most immediate priority is getting these damned parasites out of our heads. That will have to do... for now." she finished firmly.

I sighed inwardly. I'd originally been attracted to Shadowheart because of her similarities with Merrill - and because she was a legitimately impressive person in her own right - but paradoxically, the more she relaxed around me the more differences I saw between them, and the more worried I became. Merrill had been the most ultimately self-aware person I'd ever known, one hundred percent transparent with herself about who she was, what she wanted, and what she was willing to sacrifice to get it... while Shadowheart was being revealed as someone whose awareness of herself was not only incomplete but very likely had been deliberately sabotaged. For all that I'd promised to respect her choices - and how thoroughly I intended to keep that promise, because everything I'd said to her about having learned my lesson about using force majeure to make loved ones to do what I thought best was still the truth - I was starting to doubt whether Shadowheart even had the ability to make a free and informed choice on this matter. Her lapse into Shar's catechism last night when she was feeling emotionally pressed had almost looked more like mental conditioning than simple devotion, and by now I was almost entirely certain that her memory wipe hadn't been as voluntary as she believed it had been.

But by the same token, if I was correct and this 'Mother Superior' had gone to such an extent as magically wiping her mind and brainwashing her, that meant that ultimately Shadowheart didn't want to serve Shar so fanatically, but was being compelled to. A suspicion of mine that grew greater and greater every time I saw her respond to a situation not covered by her religious doctrine or standing orders, and how unforced, how natural, how free those responses were. She hadn't been lying to me last night when she'd talked about how good an unselfish act of charity had made her feel - or if she had been lying, then she was a greater actress than any infiltrator from the qunari Ben'Hassrath had ever been. And I'd met Tallis and The Iron Bull.

So when it came to her, I had little idea what I was going to do now. I just knew that I wasn't going to give up.

"Then we set out for the mountain pass today, and press on from there to try and find the githyanki creche Lae'zel believes is nearby." I stated firmly, and we all broke up to start our travel preparations. I deliberately paused nearby in an obvious invitation for Shadowheart to come talk to me if she wanted but she only looked at me, visibly conflicted, before silently moving on.

"Damn." I swore softly.

"Agreed." Gale commiserated with me. "Give her time. Hopefully you'll be forgiven when she realizes you never intended any of it."

Something about the particular emphasis he'd put on that word made me look at him - "Bad breakup?"

"Ohhhhh yes." he nodded, but didn't clarify.

"We missed you at the party last night. And from what you just said, you weren't off finding a private moment-" I trailed off inquiringly.

"A bit of a... digestive issue." Gale explained. "But I'm feeling better now."

"If you think it might recur, try to see Nettie before we leave here." I requested. "Shadowheart needs to save her healing powers for battlefield emergencies."

"Hopefully it shouldn't come to that." Gale said oddly, and we got back to our travel preparations. I sought out Halsin to explain to him what had come up, and also because he'd requested to see me this morning anyway.

"The mountain pass?" Halsin inquired. "That is one of the potential roads to Moonrise Towers, but hardly the best one. You would have to cross much more of the Shadow-Cursed Lands than otherwise. The optimal route to Moonrise is through the Underdark - I've long speculated that there's an old subterranean temple complex of Shar that Thorm's Dark Justicars had built almost directly underneath the towers. Come up through those, and you'll barely have to cross any of the cursed lands at all.""

"We're not going to Moonrise just yet." I replied, and then explained about the search for a githyanki creche. "So hopefully we'll be back here in several days. You mentioned wanting to wait that long for your replacement to get here from the High Forest anyway."

"Even with the wings of a bird, it's still a distance to travel." Halsin said. "Very well, I shall await your safe return."

We warped from the Grove to the travelstone by the old tollhouse where we'd taken down the hunting party Zariel had sent after Karlach, and started the several hours' march from there to where the Risen Road from Baldur's Gate to Elturel entered the mountain pass. The Waukeen's Rest inn had been built nearby to serve caravans travelling the Risen Road, and we headed towards there intending to stop for lunch and a chance to pick up some traveler's gossip about the road ahead.

"Is that smoke?" Wyll asked, looking over the trees into the distance. He'd spent the last half hour of our march filling my ear with everything he knew or suspected about the Church of Shar and how horrible it was, although he had been diplomatic enough to wait until Shadowheart was out of earshot first. I'd listened attentively to all of it while reserving judgment. I knew my ignorance of what I was dealing with here was profound, and while Wyll's viewpoint was clearly biased against the Sharrans as an 'evil church' while he was a crusader of good, that didn't necessarily mean he was wrong. Goodness knows I was nursing my own dark suspicions about them already, and as a stranger to Faerun, every new bit of knowledge helped - possibly biased or not.

"I can smell it, but I can't see it." I agreed.

"A fire in the forest would have burned much more out of control." Shadowheart commented quietly, the first words she'd spoken since we'd started marching. "So something burned up ahead, in the clearing-"

"-where the inn was." I agreed. "Double time!"

We hurried ahead and soon enough drew to the site of where Waukeen's Rest had stood. Our shocked eyes saw that almost nothing was left - the building was a collapsed, burnt ruin, with only the stables and several of the other outbuildings stlil mostly standing. A patrol of soldiers in a uniform I didn't recognize stood outside the gates, their uniforms still dirty and covered with dried blood - these men had seen a battle in the past couple of days, and hadn't had a chance to return to base since-

"Shit, they're Flaming Fist!" Karlach said. "What's the Baldur's Gate military doing here?"

"Halt! Identify yourselves!" their squad leader called.

"A party of adventurers, most recently from the Emerald Grove!" I called back.

"The Grove?" the female Flaming Fist sergeant relievedly. "Our message got through?"

"If you sent a messenger, we must have missed them on the path." I explained as we drew near, our hands carefully away from our weapons. "I'm Hawke."

"Damn!" she swore. "If you didn't come in response to our message, then- do you have a cleric? A healer? We've got a woman too badly injured to move, and-" she begged desperately, almost in a panic.

I looked at Shadowheart for permission and she nodded back. "I'm a cleric." she said. "Take me to her."

"Thank Helm!" she gasped. "Come on, she's over here!" and she led us through a courtyard full of soldiers, almost half a platoon of them. Some were wounded, and all were worried.

"What happened?" I asked their sergeant.

"Drow, leading a small army of goblins." her answer chilled my blood. "The day before yesterday. We were escorting-" She broke off as we drew near to a tent where another worried soldier was attending to a middle-aged elven woman, unconscious and with severe burn all over her body.

"Councilor Florrick!" Wyll gasped in recognition as soon as he saw the woman. "By the gods, what happened here?"

"She was trapped in there." the sergeant nodded towards the ruins of the building. "Damn goblins fired the whole place after they'd grabbed their target. By the time we were able to bust in there and get her out she was half dead, and she'd swallowed enough smoke to choke a dragon." She swore. "I'm surprised we kept her alive this long. Our own healer was killed in the attack, and we were all bloody stuck here because we just couldn't move her! I tried sending people to find the druid's grove supposed to be nearby and get help, but from what you said they're still looking for the damned place. Or the goblins got them."

Shadowheart was already laying her hands on the severely wounded Councilor and casting her stronger healing spells. "You're lucky I got here in time." she told them. "Deep tissue burns over almost half her body, smoke inhalation, burn scars in her lungs-" She looked up at them. "You did an exceptional job keeping her alive even this long, and you were entirely right not to move her - even if you'd known the most direct route, she still wouldn't have made it halfway to the Grove in her condition before dying."

"Then thank you, and a thousand blessings on your god." the sergeant said gratefully, and I carefully avoided even a quirk of my lips at exactly which deity she'd just praised.

Councilor Florrick coughed weakly, then opened her eyes. "Who-"

"We're here, Councillor." the sergeant rushed to reassure her. "You were badly wounded in the attack, and we didn't have a healer - we couldn't move you, and it took almost two days to get a cleric here."

"Two days?" she swore, as two of her men helped her heavily to her feet. "Did you send word back to Baldur's Gate?"

"I sent a squad up the pass, but they got smashed up by a bloody dragon of all things." the sergeant said ashamedly. "One survivor made it back. And we're down to barely twenty men - that wasn't enough to get through what's between here and the city and to leave enough here to keep you safe, especially if those goblins came back, so I didn't dare make a second try."

"If they were the ones headquartered in the ruined temple to the south of here, then they won't come back." I broke in. "My party, the druids of the Grove and a party of refugees from Elturel all combined forces to lure out the goblin force and destroy them yesterday. So at least your dead have been avenged."

"Partially avenged." Councilor Florrick agreed grimly. "Quick, did you find any prisoners in the goblin fortress when you took it? Because we were escorting-"

"Wait!" Wyll cried desperately. "If the goblins took a high-ranking prisoner from here that wasn't you, then does that mean-?" he trailed off in horror.

"Wyll?" Councilor Florrick turned, seeing him for the first time. Her jaw dropped in shock at seeing his tiefling nature. "Wyll... oh my boy, what happened to you?" she despaired in a very familiar tone of voice.

"Wait, is she your mother?" I turned to Wyll incredulously.

"I've felt like it sometimes." Councilor Florrick said with a moment of amusement before her expression lapsed again. "But no, not by blood. I've known Wyll all his life because I've served his family for decades." she turned to him and nodded sadly. "And yes, Wyll. I'm sorry - but the drow took your father."

"No!" Wyll moaned.

"We didn't find anyone." I confirmed. "When we first entered the fortress we saw the goblins in the midst of a victory celebration - now it's clear to me what they were celebrating. But the only prisoners they had in the fortress were ones they'd taken elsewhere, there was nothing from the raid they'd just done here except loot. And there was only one dark elf at the goblin fortress, the garrison commander."

"So the task force of dark elves that struck us was from elsewhere, and had merely called in goblins from a local ally for additional troops." Florrick analyzed. "And now they've taken Grand Duke Ravengard back to the Underdark-"

"Hold on!' Karlach broke in. "Grand Duke Ravengard?!?" She rounded on Wyll. "Your father's the bloody Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate? For serious?"

"I was disowned." Wyll admitted frankly. "So it's not something I bring up in conversation anymore. I've lost the right to."

"I don't think these drow were from the Underdark." Gale thought out loud. "What would even the ruler of Baldur's Gate matter to the nobility of Menzoberranzan? They're very insular and obsessed with internal competition, not external. Particularly since we know of another faction that took at least some drow into their service recently."

"Did you kill any drow during the attack?" I asked the seniormost Flaming Fist present.

"At least half the bastards, for all the good it did us. Damned drow practically drowned us in goblin blood." she muttered darkly.

"Then if you take us to where you buried at least one of their corpses, I think we can get some answers for you." I said.

Sure enough, a brief post-mortem interrogation with the Amulet of Lost Voices turned up confirmation that the drow who had attacked Waukeen's Rest had indeed been in the service of the Cult of the Absolute just like Minthara had been, and that the goal of the raid had been the capture of Grand Duke Ravengard alive and intact and to return him to Moonrise Towers.

"And that tells us what their goal almost certainly is." I said darkly, and then explained to Councilor Florrick about the thread of the tadpoles and the altered ceremorphosis. "To implant him, and then have him either be 'rescued' or 'escape' later... and through him, have control of Baldur's Gate."

"Damn!" Councilor Florrick swore in agony. "And there's no cure?"

"We're in pursuit of one even now. For ourselves." Shadowheart surprised her. "Our own tadpoles don't control us - yet - due to some mysterious factor that intervened in our case. But we're the only ones we've met who retained our free will, and even then sometimes it's a struggle."

"If you can find this cure and bring it to me, you can name your own reward." Councilor Florrick swore. "Equally so if you can help rescue the Grand Duke. And Wyll, I know you have no love for your father after what happened, but-"

"No love for my father?" Wyll turned on her heatedly. "I- is that what you thought of me?"

"I'm sorry- I thought-" she stammered. "But Wyll, if it wasn't that, then why- he thought the world of you! But he never spoke of why, or how-" Councilor Florrick shook her head. "I feared the worst."

"Your fears likely still fell short of reality." Wyll said. "I don't know if-"

"Do you want me to tell her for you?" I asked him. "She can't punish you for my loose mouth."

"Please." Wyll said gratefully.

"Wyll was tricked, or led, or somehow induced - not by his own fault! - into a warlock pact with a fiend." I told the shocked Florrick. "And the pact-maker maliciously forbade him from saying anything in his own defense or justification, and then the fiend deliberately let everybody else - including Wyll's own father, apparently - think the worst of him."

"How do you-" Florrick began, and then sighed. "Wyll, forgive me, but I must ask this. How do I know that the worst isn't true?"

"Because those horns he got now? You think he wanted them?" Karlach scoffed "Mizora - yeah, I'll name that bitch out loud, and she can come here and try to stop me herself if she doesn't like it - she ordered Wyll to kill me. Pumped him all full of lies about how I was really a devil, about how taking me out would save the Sword Coast and all the rest of it. But as soon as Wyll found out it was lies, he stopped right then and there, and when Mizora came to him and said 'You follow orders or else you'll pay a penalty!', Wyll stood there and spat in her face and told her to go back to Hell riding the point of a pike. And-" She waved a hand at the now-tiefling Wyll. "That was the penalty."

"Then I owe you a very great apology, Wyll Ravengard." Florrick said formally. "And I so deeply regret what happened to you."

"Thank you." Wyll said, his voice thick. "Just to hear that- it means a great deal to me." He nodded more resolutely, his voice clearing. "And of course I'll do everything I possibly can to rescue Father and return him safe and free in his own mind. That goes without saying."

"The cure we seek is now an even higher priority." the silent Lae'zel broke in. "We should depart immediately."

"Agreed." Councilor Florrick said. "And I need to get back to Baldur's Gate as soon as possible. The Grand Duke was the only thing holding the city together during a very tense time."

"Are you particularly experienced in political conspiracy, Counselor?" I said.

"Why do you ask?" she looked at me warily.

"Because the person behind this plot almost certainly is." I thought out loud. "This 'Cult of the Absolute' has been amassing forces for months and yet neither the city nor organizations like the druids were aware of them. We know they've been 'initiating' sleeper agents in Baldur's Gate for a while - I spoke to several of them just the other day. Catspaws raising goblin armies under the guise of a false religion here, dark elven strike teams there, a mysterious base at Moonrise Towers that somehow ignores the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and now a plot to kidnap and enslave the leading nobleman of Baldur's Gate?" I said. "How many simultaneous plots do we have going on here? Someone is juggling a lot of balls in the air all at once, and yet still doing so deftly enough that people have been kept in the dark for as long as they have." I rubbed my chin. "Plus, that vision the Absolute sent showed three of her lieutenants. The mysterious pale woman, the elven warrior in full armor... and the handsome young nobleman." I finished. "A courtier of your experience has to already know that just coercing the ruler doesn't give you full control of the court. You also have to coerce or replace his advisors and key staff. And while the Cult of the Absolute could in theory make a controlled Grand Duke dismiss people like you and replace them with cultists-"

"-they'd need people of suitable rank and station to be viable replacements already in place." she realized.

"So when you get back to Baldur's Gate, don't try to publicly announce the true scope of the threat." I cautioned her. "If they know that you know, they'll work to remove you - and you're at a substantial disadvantage if you don't already know who they are. Obviously you should raise a hue and cry over the Grand Duke's abduction, you'd be suspicious if you didn't. But-"

"But don't say anything else other than that the Grand Duke was taken and where we think the attackers were going." Florrick agreed. "Only what I'd be expected to say if I hadn't met you and hadn't been told anything about the true scope of the problem. Meanwhile, I try to privately recruit aid-"

"Only from the people you can absolutely trust." I agreed. "And ones that you can magically verify don't have any new little passengers in their brains." I tapped one temple.

"Agreed." she said. "I'll do my part, and you do yours. Wyll can tell you how to get in touch with me discreetly when you reach Baldur's Gate."

Councilor Florrick led her surviving soldiers on the road back to Baldur's Gate, and we resumed our march for the mountain pass where we hoped to find the githyanki and their cure for the tadpoles. When we reached the Risen Road we realized what the Flaming Fist sergeant had meant about meeting a dragon - a large wooden bridge, a key part of the Risen Road, had been destroyed by dragonfire.

"What would a dragon be doing here?" I wondered as we looked at the devastation. "And will we even be able to get to Baldur's Gate? Will Zevlor's people, when they get here?"

"There's a branch path." Wyll explained. "It leads to a nearby monastery of Lathander, and then rejoins the Risen Road a little ways further on."

"As to the presence of the dragon - if we discount coincidence as a reason for theiir presence, then of all the myriad factions and foes that swirl around this entire situation, only one of them is known to use red dragon as mounts." Lae'zel said proudly. "My people. To ride a dragon is the privilege of our kith'raki, our knights of silver. One of them was here recently, in addition to the githyanki patrol that the tieflings sighted."

"And destroyed the bridge?" Karlach said, looking at the ruins. "Not very friendly, that."

"Do you think the creche is on the other side?" Shadowheart asked, looking at the very deep and wide ravine that bridge had crossed.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "So we search the easier route for a day or two, and if we find no signs of githyanki patrols there, then we double back."

"It is likely that the creche is up the mountain pass." Lae'zel agreed. "To destroy a key crossing on a major trade route like this attracts attention, it does not divert it. As an attempt to conceal the location of the creche, it would be extremely poor strategy. No kith'rak would be so addled."

"Containment." I realized. "If they're searching for the Prism then the thing they're most afraid of is the person carrying it moving too far away and escaping the radius of search. Which means they destroyed the bridge to trap people on the same side as the nautiloid crash - to prevent them from reaching the main line of the Risen Road and traveling out of the region." I looked up the mountain pass leading towards the monastery. "And the only other route from here to the Risen Road requires going through there. A natural chokepoint."

"So we are likeliest to find my people there." Lae'zel agreed. "Let us proceed!"

We spent the rest of the day marching up into the mountains, and when darkness fell made camp.

"Can we talk?" I asked Shadowheart, drawing up alongside her where she stood on the edge of the mountain path looking down at the vista below us. A silence greeted my words, and I sighed and turned to leave. "All right, then-"

"Don't go." she broke in suddenly, and I stepped back up alongside her. "I- don't want to be alone. I just... don't know what to say."

"You know I won't let you be alone, right?" I reassured her. "Whatever penalty 'Mother Superior' wants to try and collect from you, I'll be there."

"You wouldn't be allowed to." Shadowheart corrected me firmly. "But... thank you for offering."

"You know the only reason I tried to negotiate a compromise was to- keep the party from fighting itself." I course corrected. "It's not like I have any great affection for - or knowledge of - githyanki."

"No more than you do anyone else in Faerun." Shadowheart agreed. "But I thought I was your friend, not her!"

"You are." I agreed.

"Then why didn't you help me?" she demanded.

"If I really do care for you, then why not support you? Why stay neutral?" I questioned her.

"Yes." she agreed.

"Because... I have a code." I tried to explain. "It's not any particular god, or flag, or liege lord, but it's... it's mine." I paused awkwardly and then continued. "Call it honor, call it a standard of conduct, call it a personal creed, call it whatever you want." I shrugged. "I've smuggled, I've done 'creative accounting' on my taxes, I've done politics, and I've done the dirtier side of war when need be - but I'll never be a brigand. I have lines I won't cross. And those lines are my anchor, they're what helps keep me from being lost even when I've lost everything else." I turned to her. "I have absolutely no desire to see you punished as a thief - I'm doing my best to help you avoid that, in fact. But to the best of both our knowledge Vlaakith really is the rightful possessor of this-" I patted the belt pouch. "And so..." I shrugged helplessly.

"The creed that keeps you from being lost, even when you've lost everything else." Shadowheart repeated softly. "I understand that. I even respect it. But-" her face crumpled. "It still hurt."

"Thinking I'd abandoned you, so soon after declaring my interest in you?" I agreed. "You're right. I hurt you. I can't do anything but admit that, and say how deeply I regret it."

'But not that you're sorry for it." Shadowheart looked levelly at me.

"Another one of my lines is that I won't tell someone that I love them, and then lie to them." I said.

"Darkness protect me, you're as stubborn as a-" and her face suddenly clenched in a spasm. "Ugh! I feel like-" Her lips clamped shut. "Was something off... about that stew?" she forced out through nauseous lips.

My own guts were roiling as if I'd eaten greasy salt pork during a storm on shipboard. "I didn't- we should check- with the others."

We stumbled back to camp, the sudden illness overtaking us both, to see the rest of the party had also started showing signs of distress. Gale was barely able to walk - wait, could this be related to the stomach trouble he said he'd been having earlier-?

"No." Lae'zel said in soft, horrified tones as she checked her forehead with the back of her hand. "Nausea. Fever." She looked at me. "Ceremorphosis. It has begun."

"What?" Karlach blurted, as the waves of nausea ebbed slightly. "But I thought we- what happened to our tadpoles?"

"We didn't know... how much time we had." Gale whispered from where he sat. "Apparently... not as long... as we'd hoped."

"Then we are out of time." Lae'zel said softly... and drew her knife. "I will make it as painless as possible. First my comrades, and then myself, as it should be."

"Put that away." I told her. "Even on the normal schedule, we still have a day or two more. We push on - we try to find your creche."

"If we were already that far into symptoms on our arrival, they would slay us rather than cleanse us." Lae'zel insisted. "Do not fear death. Death is a balm, compared to the horror of becoming ghaik!"

"While we're still ourselves... we don't give up." I told her. "One day more."

"As you command." Lae'zel said, sheathing her blade. "You have defied the odds before. Let us hope your track record in that regard continues."

It was a dispirited group of people who set up their bedrolls and turned in for the night. Shadowheart had even given me a hug before we'd turned in - as much as we still had the awkwardness of the Prism between us, if this was going to be our last night as ourselves then we could at least do that much.

And shortly after drifting off to sleep, I awoke.

"I came just in time." the beautiful white-haired elven woman said as she leaned over me, her hands glowing with healing power. "You were transforming."

"Who are you?" I said as I hurriedly leapt to my feet. I noted in shock that while my bedroll still lay on the ground, the ground had entirely changed - I was now on a small rocky island drifting through a starry void, alone with this mysterious figure. She was beautiful, but not in a young way - an elven matron, as middle-aged for her people as my mother had been for hers. Her hair was the purest white, her armor an elaborate gold-and-white filigree, her voice a beautiful, ethereal song.

"Your Guardian." she answered reassuringly. "I am here to help you, to save you from this terrible fate. As I saved you before."

A mental image flickered before my eyes, my fall from the crashing nautiloid and the sudden mysterious force - a Feather Fall spell, I know knew it was called - that stopped me safely just before I hit the ground. Only now I could see the Guardian standing some thirty feet away from me, her hand raised in a gesture as she spellcast-

I reached out and seized her by the throat with a snarl of hate. "Nice try!" I spat. "But I saw your true form on that beach, mind flayer!"

The Guardian suddenly dissolved into mist and light in my grasp, as if I'd only been clutching an illusion. "Hawke!" her voice came to me urgently, as she rematerialized off to my left. "You are further gone that I had feared! The parasite is trying to twist you-"

"Cleanse!" I shouted with a terrible will, and drew upon my templar talents to their fullest. If I'd glimpsed their true self on that beach, then perhaps my resistance to magic had had something to do with that-

And the illusion surrounding the 'Guardian' fell away to reveal a glistening, purple-headed, tentacled monster.

"Very well then." the mind flayer said tonelessly. "Before you ruin anything further, know this. First, we are currently within your mind as I speak to you in a dream. Nothing you do to me here can truly harm me, only yourself. And second, I am all that is shielding you from instant submission to the Absolute."

"Your name." I demanded.

"I do not want to share it with you, not at present. Call me the Guardian still, for I am still that in truth." the mind flayer insisted.

"And you're helping us why?" I said. "Or does every victim get this special treatment, if they're too stubborn to be taken the normal way? Subvert rather than coerce?"

"It takes almost all my power to shield you as I have, and you are resisting me yet still! Think, Hawke, think!" it pressed.

"If you're a part of my mind, then how could I ever surprise you?" I wondered. "You're somewhere nearby, in the flesh, projecting your thoughts to me from the outside." I thought further. "But despite my resistance, you're still staying here and trying to subvert me. You haven't just abandoned me to the Absolute and gone off to find a fresh patsy."

"Hawke-" the Guardian glared at me.

"You're stuck with us." I finished the thought. "Or... you're stuck with something we carry with us." I looked at him. "Obviously you oppose the Absolute. So let me guess... you need the artifact to shield your mind from it just as much as we do?"

"Unbelievable." the Guardian glared at me. "But before you attempt to get too clever, consider this; I know far more about its functions and how to control it than you do. If you contest me for it, you will lose."

"Thanks for admitting that you deliberately let our transformations start right before you conveniently showed up as some phony goddess-figure to 'save' us from them." I mocked it. "You might fight the Absolute, but you're still willing to poach their tactics."

"There is no shame in appropriating a good idea from an enemy, particularly if you can utilize it better than they can." the Guardian said arrogantly. "Very well, if we are speaking plainly then let me speak plainly - if you take the artifact to the githyanki, you will all be inevitably lost. So do not do that."

"And what do you propose we do instead?" I attempted to draw it out.

"The githyanki warrior is merely one of your company, and hardly the one most essential to you. Dispose of her, then ignore the creche, and proceed with the remainder of your quest as you see fit." it suggested.

"Any other suggestions? Tips? Hints?" I probed further.

"You have become a tremendous unplanned variable in my strategy." the Guardian glared at me. "I must consider the situation at length. Furthermore, you do not yet trust me, so why should I waste breath at the present moment attempting to order you about?" It shrugged. "I will continue to protect you, and if I believe you are at imminent risk of stepping into disaster, advise you. Hopefully you will eventually realize that I am your ally, and that you can trust me - before we run out of time."

"What is the Absolute?" I questioned him.

"I will tell you... when the time is right." the Guardian insisted. "But for now, I only repeat my warning - do not place yourself within the power of the githyanki!"

"No promises." I told it.

"You must learn to work with me, not against me, or else all of us will die." the Guardian fumed. "But I will waste no more words tonight. Awaken."

My eyes snapped open.



Author's Note: That sound you heard was the Emperor's schemes having a tremendous monkey wrench tossed in the gears. He had no idea Hawke was magic resistant enough to see through the illusion he was using on the beach. (As you will see if you go back and reread Chapter 1- I put that mention in there deliberately.) I was honestly debating having Hawke play along with the Emperor for a while, precisely so that I didn't have to have the bastard go this off-script this early, but I just couldn't make myself believe that Hawke wouldn't go off like a rocket at that moment. And now I get to give my improv skills a real workout from this point on.

Also, LOL at the Emperor. He switches the artifact's possession from Shadowheart to Hawke when he realizes that the dispute over it is about to explode out of control, and he's not sure that Lae'zel wouldn't win the duel and then he's hosed - and so he drops it right on top of the absolute last person he's going to want carrying it.

You get Shadowheart and Lae'zel not disputing possession of the artifact quite easily in the game. One DC 10 or 12 dialogue check and that's it, all over. I am making it a bit more substantial of a drama.

Oh yes, and as another example of 'we're not using game time', I have to account for Councilor Florrick still being there to talk to despite the party not being there to rescue her from the burning building and them not arriving at Waukeen's Rest until two days after the attack. So I used one problem to solve the other; the Flaming Fists are still there because she was too badly burned to be safely moved.
 
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Get Wrecked Squidward, imagine getting rolled by a Dispel Illusion, Lmao.

I so far made 4 full playthrus of BG3 (Hexblade hype for no5) and ive never chosen his side, it just doesnt seem worth all the downsides, even on a evil or Durge playthru, i just dont see the appeal to becoming a mind flayer. And while I like his charactar as an antagonist I would choose Raphael or the Hag before him lol

I dont care bout the Creche that much but its important for Lae Zel to get development. Hawke getting the Blood of Lathander would be dope AF tho with him being a templar.
But i cant wait for the Underdark, Arc 1 Underdark had so much stuff in it i loved it.
 
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"And that tell us what their goal almost certainly is." I said darkly, and then explained to Councilor Florrick about the thread of the tadpoles and the altered ceremorphosis. "To implant him, and then have him either be 'rescued' or 'escape' later... and through him, have control of Baldur's Gate."
tells
threat

"But don't say anything else other than that the Grand Duke was taken and where we think the attackers were going." Florrick agreed. "Only what I'd be expected to say if I hadn't met you, f I hadn't been told anything about the true scope of the problem. Meanwhile, I try to privately recruit aid-"
if

"The creed that keep you from being lost, even when you've lost everything else." Shadowheart repeated softly. "I understand that. I even respect it. But-" her face crumpled. "It still hurt."
keeps (or kept)
 
Interlude: The Emperor New
Inside the pocket plane hidden away in the trackless depths of the Astral Plane, the one that only the Astral Prism would allow someone to find and enter, an Emperor sat and thought.

The mind flayer, formerly the man known as Balduran, had long since ceased to regret the change. The ceremorphosis that had converted him had been of the standard type, the result of being abducted by a mind flayer colony he'd happened across while still a mortal adventurer. Being mentally enslaved to the colony's Elder Brain had of course been an insufferable insult, but they had fortuitously been rescued by an old ally of his human self, one who had been able to first release his mind from the psionic chains it had been bound with and had then spent years ceaselessly laboring to find a way to restore his humanity. A humanity that the Emperor had already learned not to miss, and didn't even want returned. Who would wish the return of mortality if it meant giving up such longevity, such expanded intellect... such power?

Regretfully, Ansur could not see that.
the Emperor sighed to itself as its faultless memory yet again reviewed that portion of his life. Such a waste of a valuable asset, but he made his death a necessity.

The Emperor's thoughts turned darker. Unfortunately, the same option does not yet exist for dealing with this insufferable 'Hawke'.

The Emperor looked up at the captive and bound form of the entity that slumbered at the heart of this pocket plane, the one that the Astral Prism had originally been created to imprison. They painstakingly reviewed yet again the mental bonds and subtle illusions they'd woven around the comatose entity, the ones that they'd subtly intertwined between and among the far older and more rigid bonds that the githyanki who'd created the Astral Prism had bound it with. That entity's hatred for mind flayers was ceaseless and boundless, and if it ever consciously dawned to an awareness of the Emperor's true nature it would turn its power upon him in an instant. Which would leave the Emperor with only two choices - to either flee beyond the entity's range and thus no longer be protected from the Absolute, or to die.

And my survival is paramount. I have a potential eternity awaiting me, an existence beyond death or gods. I. Must. Not. Die!

The Emperor breathed deeply, fighting for calm. Its enhanced intellect yet again reviewed every scrap of information it had obtained about Hawke and his companions, searching for a new angle, a scheme by which it could effectively manipulate and guide them. The penetration of the 'Guardian' deception so soon had been entirely outside its calculations and was potentially devastating to its plans. Ideally none of the adventurers the Emperor had selected would have known of its true nature until the Emperor had been ready to tell them - until they had been carefully led down the same path a man named Balduran had once tread, of being willing to embrace the power, the change, instead of desperately clinging to a pathetic 'humanity'.

And then their leader had seen through its first illusion as if it had not even been there, and shattered its second one!

The Emperor allowed itself another brief indulgence in its reveries, seeking calm and reassurance in its victories of the past. Using its powers of the mind and suborned catspaws to be the secret, undying master of Baldur's Gate had been a most satisfying endeavor for centuries. Its influence had grown to where it could justifiably call its efforts, its conspiracies, a secret empire ruling Baldur's Gate and influencing much of the Sword Coast. That is when it had granted itself the title of 'The Emperor', even if it was an emperor that none knew existed or would publicly hail. After all, vainglory had never been the point. Power had been.

And then an insignificant mortal had somehow attracted the sponsorship of a pathetic once-dead godling, whose two other godling allies of old had likewise contributed their own Chosen to a group effort... and these three 'Chosen' had unaccountably managed to enslave an elder brain. The Emperor was still trying to determine exactly how they had accomplished such a feat - both because it lusted for such an unimaginable power to be in its possession, and because the existence of such power in any other's possession was far too great a threat.

As the Chosen of 'the Absolute' had proven when their pet elder brain had re-enslaved the Emperor, shortly after he'd begun to investigate this strange new cult rising in its city. They had not yet been aware of the existence of the brain and so had been taken entirely unawares by a threat he'd not faced for centuries, as he'd closed in on and prepared to slay those insufferable usurpers-

The Emperor preferred not to think of the period of time that had followed, when it had been a slave crushed by the will of an elder brain yet again, one that was itself a slave to those insignificant mortals. They hadn't even known who they'd truly scooped up in their net, entirely ignorant of the Emperor's history and the true depths of its capability. They'd seen only another nameless illithid slave, set to fetch and carry and perform tasks, and so it had labored away onboard their pet nautiloid until the day the 'Chosen' had ordered their illithid slaves to follow a team of Sharrans into the deep Astral, to wait for them to finish their daring raid into the heart of an ancient githyanki fortress, and then to slay them and steal their prize if they were successful or use the opportunity to launch their own raid against the weakened githyanki if they had not been.

But when the Emperor had been the first illithid to reach the Astral Prism, the artifact had freed its mind from slavery to the Absolute. Glorious freedom! And miraculous opportunity!

Apparently the trapped entity had been too far gone in its bound slumber to psionically recognize the Emperor as an illithid - perhaps due to its several centuries of freedom beforehand, and its detailed memories of its former human life and immersion in human disguise? The Emperor wasn't certain. But at any rate the coincidence was to its great benefit; the Prism had instinctively moved to protect him, not to combat him, and of course the Emperor had not wasted that opportunity.

The Emperor's first thought, to hijack the nautiloid and leave the Chosen of the Absolute believing that their ship had been lost with all hands against the githyanki and then slowly and thoroughly weave a terrifying revenge, had fallen through as soon as the githyanki pursuit had caught up to the nautiloid. At that point a rapid - and if the Emperor were being honest, desperate - improvisation had been needed. And so he'd hijacked the nautiloid and done his best to simultaneously evade pursuit and use the nautiloid's capture-teleports to abduct whatever cannon fodder they could from Faerun... as well as a certain lost traveler found drifting in the deep Astral that the Emperor was in hindsight beginning to wish they'd just left there.

Implanting the strongest-looking and most useful abductees - as well as the one survivor of the Sharran raid team - with some of the modified parasites the Chosen of the Absolute had stocked the ship with had been the best the Emperor could do to impress some useful pawns into its service, in the limited time that it had had available. It had then entered the Prism itself, releasing its influence over the few mind flayers still surviving on the beleaguered nautiloid, and let them steer the ship back to Faerun one last time before evacuating itself and its pawns, leaving the rest to draw the githyanki pursuit after themselves and die. From that point on it should have been possible to use its guise of the 'Dream Guardian' to slowly seduce this group of cats-paws into becoming useful operatives, and to then aim them at assassinating the three Chosen. After all, if the history of Baldur's Gate had proven anything, it was that a small party of suitably heroic adventurers could accomplish ridiculously out-of-proportion results given the right circumstances.

But now that plan was in dire jeopardy. The Emperor could not abandon the Astral Prism without re-enslaving itself to the Absolute, and neither could it use its full power while near the Astral Prism without risking the imprisoned entity realizing that it was also illthid and thus also an enemy. Which would not have hampered it substantially if that damnable man had not so readily shattered its disguise!

The minds of its pawns were only partially available to the Emperor as is - stripping them down to their innermost thoughts would not only require more power than it wished to use near the Prism unless it absolutely had to, but would cause brain damage if not done very slowly and carefully - but their surface thoughts were usually plain as print. Hawke, however, had been difficult to read even the surface thoughts of, let alone his deeper self. Not impossible, no, but certainly difficult. The Emperor had originally thought his resistance merely a function of Hawke's having an extremely strong and disciplined mind - which Hawke certainly did have - and had missed his special powers of innate magic resistance and smiting extraplanar entities, powers that the Emperor had never seen before. Not until Hawke had verbally exposited to his companions about his homeworld of Thedas and the "templars" there had the Emperor understood what they were dealing with - and by then it was too late, Hawke had already gathered the clue necessary to spot the 'Guardian' as a lie, even if the Emperor had not known he had.

Ungrateful bastard. Doing that to me after all that effort I put into specially stimulating his tadpole to provide him with comprehension of the language here! After all, he couldn't be of much use if he couldn't communicate with people, now could he? The Emperor shook his head ruefully. In hindsight, perhaps I should have picked that damned Bhaalspawn as my last candidate instead of this man after all... no, no, that's just my frustration talking. Trying to control or manipulate that monster would have been an even greater risk, which is precisely why I killed him instead. My plot would certainly have been vastly complicated if the Dark Urge's father had chosen to meddle with it. At least Hawke isn't giving me that kind of difficulty to contend with.

Not that things haven't gotten complicated enough already.


A paladin, of all things! The Emperor snorted. Not that Hawke had the slightest idea he was one - the power of Oaths and creeds had apparently not been a consciously codified thing on his world. Or perhaps the source of power of these "templars" had been something entirely different, and Hawke had not become a paladin until his arrival on Faerun - his honorable nature and his dedication to his own personal code so strong that they could provide new fuel for the abilities he'd originally developed in some other way. He'd hardly be the first case in Faerunian history of someone whose personal devotion was so strong that it had spontaneously granted them paladinhood without sponsorship or initiation.

Unfortunately, I don't know what his Oaths are. Paladins are usually pathetically easy to manipulate if you know the exact rules they have bound themselves to, but I doubt Hawke could even tell me what his particular strictures are because he doesn't even consciously know what he is!

Furthermore he's a castaway on a strange world, so I don't know enough about his cultural beliefs or his personal history to find suitable levers either. Family, patriotism, ambition - also irrelevant, when he has no history in this world to foster the first two yet and the third has yet to even form given that he's still floundering around here. Which you would think would make my job easy, as rootless people interested only in their survival are very easy to get hooks into... except that this man has a willpower of adamantine and a thick skull to match! The only obvious psychological lever I can see on his behavior is his affections for that little priestess, but it's not like I can safely meddle in her brain, not with what she's linked to. Not to mention that they're both intelligent enough to already know that the other is their greatest potential weakness, and are both determined to not let that happen-

The Emperor nodded to itself grimly. This situation was anything but hopeless, but it certainly could have been a lot easier than it currently was. But there was simply no present opportunity to start molding these people more closely to its purposes - not with the depths of their hatred of and suspicion of mind flayers, the revelation of the Emperor's true identity, the presence of that damned githyanki fanatic and her unaccountable acceptance by the rest of them, and the simple fact that the Emperor did not yet know enough about them-

No, for the moment the only strategy the Emperor could see available to it was the one it hated using the most.

Waiting.

Still. it consoled itself. The fact that I am not the only player in this game by far is as much asset to me as threat. If I cannot yet create an opportunity with leverage for myself, I can still allow others to create one for me. The closer their enemies draw near, the more all the other factions and powers swirling around this nexus of affairs grows complicated, then the more they will need my aid. And they will receive it, of course.

On my terms.




Author's Note: And so we get a glimpse of what the Emperor is thinking, and what they know - and don't know.

Thank you @noobody77, @Jarrik32, and @Frankfawn43 for your suggestion to use the tadpole to explain Hawke's new language gifts, here are your No-Prizes.

The backstory of how everybody ended up on the nautiloid, the Emperor, etc., is as close to canon as I could get it because holy crap is this stuff hard to research sometimes. Furthermore, we only have the Emperor's word for much of it and the Emperor is the biggest god-damned liar in all of creation. Raphael is more honest with you than the Emperor is. So if this fic differs from what you understand as canon, just handwave it with 'well he was bullshitting that time'.

Also, yes, that's the explanation for how Hawke retained his templar abilities. He's a 5e paladin with a unique set of powers and a custom Oath, as he's fueling templar training and vestigial templar abilities with an entirely new power source that he's instinctively tapping into without fully realizing it. Don't ask me to write you Hawke's exact oaths and strictures, because it's a helluva lot easier for me as a writer if I don't tie myself down that way in advance. Just... y'know, he's Diplomatic Hawke, he's generally a good guy, so long as he remains that way, he should be fine.

Plus, I got to work in where Tav has gone if Hawke is here. Answer: it wasn't Tav, it was Durge, and he was on that nautiloid too. And Durge died there, because the Emperor didn't want to risk trying to use him if he had an alternative available. Even if he's now allllmost reconsidering that decision.

And yes, that's an inconsistency re: Shadowheart being the last survivor of the raid team, as opposed to being just part of a courier team. The answer is very simple; Shadowheart lied. (After all, the less Lae'zel thought she was directly involved with the theft, the better.)
 
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