Smoke break
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Hello! I've been bitten the the writer's bug and decided to write about a friend and I's tav from Baulder's Gate 3! This is just something I wanted to do for fun and I hope you enjoy. There may be a continuation of this story as time goes on, but for now enjoy this little bit. Stay spookie, xoxo
WC: 1,037
“…When does a man become a monster?”
It has been months since his disappearance. The plan to take over the Swordcoast has already been in motion, and he wasn't here to see it. Wendigo spent hours to days trying to ignore where her brother went off to, so she would make excuses that he was just off doing whatever he pleased, but Orin kept feeding her ideas.
“He could be dead, or better yet, something could’ve feasted on his flesh... How exciting to know your biggest threat is finally gone, bloodkin.”
Wendigo just rolled her eyes. She has always been unamused by Orin’s…personality. She was reckless. There was no elegance to her methods. She was always sloppy whenever she was involved in any plan Kethric, Gortash, and Wendigo would come up with, but she would be lying to herself if she wasn’t worried about her brother. She wasn’t supposed to have these feelings. She was trained not to have these thoughts, but she would always care about her brother.
“Instead of reminding me he's gone, how about you go choke on a dagger?"
The hideous laughter that came from Orin just made Wendigo glad they weren’t actually related. Wendigo and her brother were not born Bhaalspawns, but Orin was born into this cult. Wendigo had long forgotten the reason why Bhaal decided to take her and her brother. They weren’t anything special; at least Wendigo didn’t feel like she was special. She had to spend years learning and training to become a powerful wizard, but she was never considered powerful in the eyes of Bhaal. If she was told to fight Orin, she could win, but if she had to be put in a fight against her brother, she would lose. He was more powerful because he was born with magic coursing through his veins. It was natural for him. Maybe that’s why she didn’t feel special and always wanted to be better. Be stronger than him, but those thoughts were put to rest when she remembered what happened when he decided to get power hungry. He started craving the freedom to kill however he wanted. He didn’t want to follow Bhaal’s rules. He didn’t want to become like Orin, but that was his downfall before he disappeared. Wendigo remembers how, after her brother killed some unknowing soul, Orin tackled him to the ground, and before Wendigo could come to his defense, two other cultists held her back. She could still hear the screams coming from her brother as Orin carved into his skin. The smell of copper became stronger the more Orin was carved into his skin. She remembers how she tried to break free of the two men holding her back. The screams and tears streamed down her face. She felt helpless that day… Even though her brother was fully capable of protecting himself, she couldn’t help him when he needed someone by his side. That day, she vowed to become stronger. She promised to be a perfect solider so she could know everyone within those temple’s walls next move. She didn’t want another surprise attack from anyone, but shortly after that incident, her brother disappeared.
Now here she was gathering supplies to meet up with Kethric Thorm in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. She was tasked with finding a way to kill Kethric. Find his weakness and take his netherstone. He had become weak over the past few months. Bhaal and Gortash have taken notes on how weak Kethric has become, but who was she to judge? She knew what it was like to want to have someone you loved and cared for by your side, but his emotions were getting in the way of the bigger picture of what was going on. The world will soon be in the palm of her hands. She just wished her brother was by her side. She shook her head to try to keep herself focused. She has one mission: to kill Kethric, grab his netherstone, and report back to Baulder’s Gate. Plain and simple. Nothing difficult, and nothing she can’t handle…
The journey to the gate that sat between Baulder’s Gate and the Shadow Curse Lands wasn’t difficult. She was able to stay hidden from most of the citizens of Baulder’s Gate by taking a route through the sewers. The sewers smelled better than the stench of blood and guts that stained the walls of the Temple of Bhaal. Wendigo questions why she couldn't just run away when given the chance, but when she thinks about how Bhaal found out about her brother’s situation, what would happen if she did decide to run away? Would they come after her and kill her for being a heratic ? Would they hurt her brother to get her to run back to them? She had to be careful. Every single detail mattered. Every single order that was given to her, she had to carry out. She had to do this to protect the one person she cared about—the one person who could truly understand the hell she continues to crawl through.
Soon, she made it to the gate that separated the two lands. The shadows that shroud the land felt familiar. It felt cold and harsh, with no hint of warmth. It’s a shame that she welcomed such a familiar feeling, but she looked down and saw how her arms wrapped around her in a hug. Was she nervous about what waited for her in the shadows? Would her brother show up while she was staying here? Her hands started gripping the flesh under them as she could feel the anger and frustration coming back.
“How could he be so fucking stupid? He couldn’t handle the pressure of Bhaal and left it up to me.”
She thought to herself. Then she started laughing hysterically while resting her head in her hands. She could feel the urges resurfacing that she had tried to suppress over the past few months. The insanity of craving nothing but carnage for any living creature in her sight. She looked up at the sky as her hands fell to her sides. If anyone could see her face, they would see her twisted smile. A smile from one who finally gave up hope that she would ever see the only person she cared about.
The smile of a monster.
Howdy! I've finally had time to work on the next part of the story about my friend and I's tavs from BG3! This is part 4 and it is going to broken into smaller parts just because of how big I am planning this part to be. Hope you enjoy! WC:728 Previous part here!
Astarion rolled his eyes after Wendigo, or Nyx, walked away from them. Honestly, it was confusing trying to keep up with everything that has happened in the weeks he has traveled with Creed. He loved the display of power from the female wizard, but if this was the same woman Creed talked about in camp, he wasn’t amused. “You gotta be joking...that's the Nyx you've told me about? This—this person that you talked so highly about that would take a blade for you in battle?” Creed was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear what Astarion was saying. He thought he knew who his sister was, but did his memory betray him? Was she truly gone? Creed refused to believe whatever Nyx did was just a pure display of power. She would never just kill people without a reason. “There’s something else happening here...besides the obvious—Nyx isn’t like this I-” “It’s been months since you’ve seen her. People change, darling.” Astarion interrupted Creed. Deep down, Creed knew that already. He knew people could change because he had seen it within the group he travels with, but it didn’t change the fact that this was his sister. He wanted to know why she turned so cold and heartless.
“You're right…” It was hard to admit that Astarion was right, but there was no point in arguing about it right now. They had to meet up with her at some point, finish their journey here, and continue the road to Baulder’s Gate.
They restocked on supplies and tried to avoid talking to many people, so they didn’t run the risk of blowing their cover. Then they went to meet Nyx outside, where she told them she would be. When Creed saw her, he noticed how easy it was for her to blend in with the others. She didn’t even look phased by everything going on here, and the way people would look at her with fear was rather a beautiful sight, but Creed would never admit those thoughts out loud. He had his own secrets and holes in his memories, so maybe now that he found his sister, she could give him some form of closure; maybe make him realize he’s not much different than her. Maybe once this is all over, she will be willing to put those pieces together, but there’s always a fine line between hopefulness and naivety. Before Nyx saw Creed’s party approaching her, she quickly put a dark violet fabric into her pocket. That didn’t go unnoticed by Astarion, but he wouldn’t bring it up. They were all ready to head out on their mission to help Nyx just keep up the appearance of True Souls. Creed saw how she picked up a lantern that glowed with a beautiful light. Almost like a full moon. “You’ll need this to protect all of you from the shadows.” Creed took the lantern while still trying to resist the urge to ask why they needed it, but quickly remembered that anyone who doesn’t have the Moon maiden’s blessing, or anyone who is a follower of Shar, couldn’t walk freely in the shadows. He could see how Nyx quickly gave it over. Did she feel so disgusted by how Creed changed, or was she afraid of him? This seemingly powerful woman being afraid of him was never a thought that had crossed his mind. “Where exactly are we going?”
Creed asked the question they all wanted to know. The only information they were given was that Nyx needed to find this guy named Baltazar. “There’s a Grand Mausoleum located about north-west of here; there’s an entrance to the Temple of Shar, where supposedly Baltazar last was ordered to go.” “Temple of Shar? Shadowheart would’ve had a field day if she were here…” Creed thought to himself. Shadowheart was told to stay in camp by the others until they found information about the Nightsong, but after finding Nyx, plans had to change. He can handle Shadowheart being mad at him, but working with someone who is supposedly on the enemy side could lead to some complications. Shadowheart would’ve tried to talk Creed out of even doing all of this, and maybe she would’ve been right, but he needed answers. He needed to know what happened to the sister he remembered.
“Alright… lead the way.”
A lil comic about a really old hc where Papa Emeritus was an entity who steals faces from unsuspecting star aspirators.
Also a dark nameless ghoul origin story. The idea came from a show, I'll admit lol
"why do fans think jim defroque is sexy? he's a bad guy stop it"
because we're not puritans and we think with our dicks, margaret. this is not new behavior for fandom
@stainedlilac get your husband 😂
Blue is the colour we worship terzo in today 💙
Rain, holding Dew up by his armpits: "Behold, a demon!" Dew, purring contentedly: -looking like an overgrown cat- Rain: "You're supposed to be scary!" Dew, sagging: "The way you're holding me is taking all the tension off my bones, it's so nice..." Rain: "...You're welcome, I guess?" Dew, dozing off: "Rrr..." Rain: "...Huh."
I dunno, listening to Ghost is so comforting because it’s just a silly little guy with skeleton face paint dancing around and telling people with religious trauma that “There’s nothing wrong with you and you’re fine as you are! Let’s party!”