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#Even if you don't if you're pulling the strings of Bhaal who is puppetting the godchild it's still a win
y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months
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"Jergal never tells [the truth/his plans]. If you do pray to him and ask, anything he says will be a means of manipulating you to do or try something (as part of one of his plans), rather than the truth about the plan."
As ever, Withers is a lying liar who lies: 50% of what he says is ominous portents of doom and 100% of what he says is lies and manipulation. He is also apparently an expert at manipulating other deities, and none of them can match his skill at it.
I'm still suspicious about whatever he did to Arabella (which was incredibly disturbing) and possibly Durge, and the worst thing is I don't know if the writers are unaware of this side of Jergal (and thus he's just out of character and overly benevolent) or if I should be concerned in-game.
I mean the thing where he erased Arabella's grief and she's suddenly very casual about killing people did seem framed as creepy, I think? And that taunting of his three favourite pawns at the end... he could be the behind the scenes guy?
Withers makes me anxious.
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Pairing: Karlach x durge reader, Gortash x durge reader
Prompt: Some thoughts I had when I brought my dark urge and romanced Karlach to face Gortash.
Description: Having just survived a divine revelation from daddy dearest Bhaal and making your way to Wyrm's Rock, you're a little shaken but ready to face whatever Gortash may throw at you. You wanted to see Karlach have her revenge as sure as it was your own. Yet... something familiar and strange stirs within your blackened heart when you look at Gortash. And most frighteningly, he looks to you the same.
Rating: sfw
Word Count: 2678 3037
Notes: Happy 4:30 am I got off work and like a man possessed wrote this. It's not edited (yet) but if I don't post this and get validation I may just fucking die so. Have this terrible little brain baby! I just think it would be so tastey. No one wins here btw!
oh this is huge spoilers for dark urge/act 3 btw! I took some liberties but it's my fanfiction and I can if I want to
Edited: 10/1/23 (read it and there was a lot of mistakes lol)
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Curiosity has guided you far, in this adventure. It’s helped you find the pieces of your past life, both those that proved to be a boon and that which you would have rather left buried. You’ve repressed your dark urges, fought them, proved to yourself and your allies, and especially your lover, that you’re better than that. Better than the person you once were. Better than what your father would have you be.
And it’s never been more clear than when you stand before Gortash now. You can feel Karlach before you, bristling at seeing his face. The way Wyll panics at seeing his father, obviously not himself. Gale, too, is is all wound up-- the emotions held in this room are fit to burst, and you and Gortash are the center of it.
You felt a flicker of it before, when seeing his face in the Ilithid colony beneath Moonrise. There was familiarity there; not the burning hatred that seized your heart when you looked at Orin, nor the cool indifference you felt upon taking Kethric’s life but something far different. The closet thing to normal you felt from your previous life. It scared you more than the murder, than the blood on your hands and the bile burning the back of your tongue.
He felt like home. A feeling you thought only Karlach could bring about you, of calm and happiness acceptance and all things nice and lovely that father would surely disapprove of. And when he speaks, when his disgusting honeyed voice and hardened gazes softens upon landing to you, when “My favorite assassin,” leaves his silvered tongue, you can see whispers of the past before you.
A part of it, mind, you might have preferred to keep lost. It comes in flashes and fuzzy moments, in warm feelings and beating heart. Your hand, held in his; your lips lost together. Bodies tangled and thoughts lost... You linger in those memories a moment, remembering how right it all felt. And thinking, how funny, even back then you were pulling away from father's puppet strings.
As you come back to the present, you're left stunned silent a moment, as his words flow in one ear and out of the other. This is Gortash-- the man who sold Karlach to the Arch Devil Zariel, who abducted Wyll’s father and whose manipulating the cult of the absolute and all the people of Baldur’s gate all at once-- and he’s the man who helped you learn what love is.
It's also so sickeningly familiar, the way your heartbeat picks up upon meeting his gaze. How he reserves an easy smile just for you, even if you’ve seen it hundreds of times. You have to close your eyes, to reach out and take Karlach’s hand despite how hot she’s grown. It's almost too much for you, to remember how happy you were with Gortash when you've been fighting for so long to find a way to keep being happy with Karlach.
“Solider?” Even through her own anger, her own disgust and sorrow and rage and madness, Karlach pauses, (your whole party does, in fact) in seeing the familiarity between the two of you. Seeing the effect Gortash has on you, their dauntless leader, their dear friend. If only they knew who they were calling their ally now...
“Holy shit,” Is all you can manage out in the moment. So many thoughts, little forgotten memories blink past your eyes. Karlach squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back just to let her know you’re still there.
“I didn’t think I’d have quite that strong of an effect on you,” he chuckles and you hate how you can tell it’s from genuine affection, and not twisted glee. He truly is glad to see you-- and why shouldn’t he be? It can't have been that long ago that the two of you were lovers.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” You have to steel yourself in front of him, in front of your friends. But how can you deny it? Things have always been this way between the two of you. Delicate and strange and so wrong as to feel right.
“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed.” That charming smile, turned business as he turns to face your party whole. “I was worried, after Orin did you in. But I should have known you would return, find your way back to me.” He’s all confidence as he speaks, and you notice its mostly to you. It���s almost as if the room isn’t filled with courtesans, as if your party isn’t there to back you up. Like you aren’t clutching to Karlach like a lifeline.
“You’ll… have to fill in the finer details.” You admit softly, frown fitting your face. “I’ve reclaimed bits and pieces of my former memory but I’m afraid much of my former…” You hesitate as you consider who you were before all this “...life is beyond me.” You decide to remain as passe as possible. But perhaps he already knows you remember. Actually, your certain he does-- there’s a look of mischief twinkling in his eyes that surely only you can see. But cruelty is in his nature, as begets the chosen of Bane. You’re lucky, then, that for you, and only you, his urge can be diminished into something a little more charming.
“Why, without you this cult would be nothing! Well, without us.” He laughs again and you can feel your companions eyes upon you. “You and I came up with this whole plan-- to steal the crown of Karsus, overpower the elder brain, and use its powers to create a loyal army of cultists… if Orin hadn’t overthrown you, things wouldn’t be near a mess as they are now.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, a sigh fitting past his lips. “That sister of yours is quite the handful, and far less careful about controlling her urges. Why, with you back, and with Kethric’s nether stone no less, I dare say we have a chance to get things back in line again.”
“_____, what is he talking about? Why is he talking like he knows you?” Karlach’s voice tears through your thoughts, just as you feel her warm hand leave yours, and your party's gaze all land on you.
“Oh Karlach, dear sweet Karlach…” Gortash speaks again. “Are you certain you want to hear that?” Your breath hitches as he speaks. You were hoping Gortash would have more decorum than to admit what the two of you once hand. Perhaps its obvious to him how you feel about Karlach now. Maybe you looked at him the same way, once; maybe you are now.
Perhaps then, it's jealously that causes him to speak. You can't imagine how he must feel, seeing someone he got rid of so long ago stroll up with the person he thought was taken from him. Yes, now that you think about it, that would make him quite mad...
“You shut the fuck up, Gortash!” Karlach raises her voice before you even think to speak; Gortash merely smirks, speaks again with mockery lacing his tone.
“Indeed, _____, why don’t you enlighten your friends, your lover, about your past self?” Your name spoken from his lips was so, so nice. It made you ache in a sickeningly familiar way. And so too, was the venom in his when he spoke of your lover. Of Karlach…
“They know,” You manage to croak out. “With the tadpole they saw… saw the vision my father sent to me.” One that you had gotten hardly an hour before coming here, even. That you were a Bhaalspawn, of your dearest fathers own flesh. That you were his chosen before Orin struck you down. You knew that wasn't what he met. You were desperate to hide this-- like when your urge first overcame you, when that poor girl Alfira's blood stained your hands and camp...
“Then surely, you remember, about us?” Daring as ever, Gortash moves forward, to cup your chin tenderly with his gauntlet that held his nether stone.
How easy it would be, to twist the arm that dared hold you, to rip that precious nether stone from the sorry hand that dared touch your hallowed flesh.
“Us? What is he talking about?” You could hear the desperation in Karlach’s tone, even if you couldn’t see her. Your eyes were locked with Gortash’s, lost in them really. “_____, why are you letting him touch you?” Even from here, you could feel her heat. She was angry, so angry that he dare touch you. But scared, too. Scared that you weren't even trying to stop him.
You tear away from Gortash’s intense gaze, gently remove his hand from your person and ignore your urge. And so to, ignore the urge to reach out for Gortash in return. So many parts of yourself you have to deny, it was getting hard to know what’s really you…
“Fine. Fine!” You raise your own voice, uncaring of the puppets in the room. You turn to Karlach, to the only reason you’ve gotten this far. “You deserve to know anyways.” Still, you heave a sigh, for what is a heavier burden than the truth? “Yes, before Orin betrayed me, I was the chosen of Bhaal. But beyond that…” Even still, as the truth lingers on your lips, tingles on the tip of your tongue, you hesitate as you meet Karlach’s gaze-- as you filter to Gale and Wyll as well.
Your breath dies a moment as you see how worried they are for you. You’re scarcely worth such kindness, moreso from such good people as them. “Gortash and I were… close. Far closer than any plan may have merited. One might have even called it love, if you believe such evil capable of it.” You admit, looking to the floor. You wouldn’t be able to take the look of betrayal in their faces, nor the grin Gortash surely wore.
“I…” You can feel the way the anger leaves Karlach. Even if she didn’t want to show it you can feel through that dammed tadpole how numb she suddenly feels. “Right. You guys finish” She gestures vaguely to you, to Gortash “whatever the hell this is. I gotta go.” You don’t even have the heart to stop her. Don’t have the courage to watch her retreating form.
“Karlach, hold on!” Gale is quick to follow. You’d have to thank him for that. For doing what you should be doing. You can feel Wyll’s hesitation. But he stays. You’d have to thank him too. You don’t want to be alone (as much as the word means in a room fool of likely tadpoled individuals like yourself) with Gortash right now. Even if Wyll is just staying for his own father.
“There she goes.” Gortash is brazen now, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in to his chest. You don’t know if it’s right to be this close to him, to hug him like you so desperately want to. “I do miss our time together. We could be still be together, work together. It would be my honor to restore you to your former glory-- to help you regain your title as Bhaal’s chosen once more.” The idea fills you with twisted glee. You recall, with errie smile, how Gortash was once wrapped around your little finger. How easy it could be to twist him to your designs, and kill him when it suited you most. How it would please father, how it would only make you stronger, to get such a distraction out of your life.
“That’s not who I am anymore.” You say with much force, creating some distance between you and Gortash. You're not sure if its about the two of you being together, or you being Bhaal's chosen. Still, he does not falter. He gets down on one knee before you, looking up at you with adoration. You hate it. You love it. It’s disgusting and beautiful and you know this isn’t the first time he’s been on his knees for you. Play your cards right, it may not even be his last.
“Even so, I can see how much your heart cries out for revenge. You mean to kill Orin, and as it happens I want her dead as well.” Again, beautiful hands, coveted nether stone, circle around your own. “We could rule together. Even your little… friends.” This was your plan, after all. Your genius that got this terrible cult going.
“Just what are you proposing?” You can’t help but squeeze his hands. Can’t deny the beat of your heart-- for the evil within must hear this promise of power. Coming from a man you may even still hold dear a part so strong it can't look away.
“We reforge our alliance. Bring our empire to fruition. My steel watch won’t harm you, so long as you kill Orin and bring her nether stone back.”
“_____…” Wyll’s voice surprises you. For a moment, it really was you and Gortash, and the empire you stood to create. “I know this must be a hard decision for you. Gortash seems to know you better than you do yourself this moment. But we need to consider all our options.” He reminds you. Pushing you towards neither extremes at this moment. A level head when yours was, as always, a shambling mess. "Remember how far we've come. How far you've come."
“That’s not a decision I can make right now.” You admit, hastily pulling away from Gortash. His face falters a little as he rises to his feet. “There’s a lot I need to consider.” When he stands tall again, looking to you, that familiar cocky grin is again in place.
“I understand. You always make the right choice in the end. But, just to prove my loyalty,” That word stings just a little. You hadn’t proved loyal to most anyone who trusted you, at least in this particular moment. “I’ll share this with you; an impostor is at your camp, right now.” You frown again as you look to him.
“Orin…” You grit your teeth as you consider your sister, how any one of the people you had come to trust with your life could be the backstabber herself.
“So if I were you, I’d act quick.” He smiles at you but you see how it doesn’t meet his eyes. “So, my dear, why don’t you stay for my coronation?” He laughs softly as he turns towards Duke Ravengard, who seems more statue than man at this moment.
You do just that, watch with wary gaze and heavy heart as Enver Gortash is ordained ‘Archduke Gortash’. Many tough decisions lie ahead of you and you couldn’t will yourself to think on a single one of them as you watched Gortash rise with a new fervor. He seeks your gaze, your approval, as the room erupts with applause. But it’s high time you left, to figure out what to do next.
You climb down the barren halls of Wyrm’s Rock with Wyll, unsure what to say or do next. You feel like you’ve had enough adventure and learning of your old life for once day, but of course Gortash gave you fear to return to your own camp as well…
“Are you alright?” Wyll stops you as you slowly walk towards the south span of Wyrm’s rock, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You jump at his touch, only to sigh and relax when you realize it's just him.
“No not really, that was a lot for me.” You admit with a shaky laugh.
“I… were you truly involved with Gortash before… well, before?” He frowns, the look on his face hard to read.
“I… yes. I was.” It would be no use to lie.
“And now?” He asks, unexpectedly. “What now?”
“What now indeed.” You sigh and lean into him. Wyll supports your weight with a good natured hug. “I love Karlach, Wyll. I love her so much. But… old feelings linger in my twisted mind. Gortash was…” You shake your head. How can you explain that who you were, who you use to be… Gortash was the only person that you respected? That seemed to understand you, to meet you at your level? Even now as you thought of it, more cursed thoughts of your time together came back to you. It hurt, mentally and physically.
“I can’t say I understand, friend, but I know yours is a troubled past.” He pulls back from you, smile fitting his handsome face. “I think it would be best for us to head back to camp for the day.” He guides you that way, and you decide to follow his judgment.
“I just… hope that Karlach is okay. Had I known, I…” You shake your head. How could you have known? In a past life, you were lovers with the very man that ruined her life. The man that made it difficult for you two to even start a relationship to begin with.
“Rest, friend. You can’t of helped that.” You nod. He was right. But that still left you in the middle of some ridiculous love triangle…
You just have to decide, dearest, darkest urge, who is most important to you; Enver Gortash, Bane’s Chosen, tyrant of Baldur’s Gate and the matching mind to your own criminal plot to rule it all… or Karlach Cliffgate, the woman he ruined in the pursuit of his own power, and the one you promised to help end him.
Either way, there would be betrayal. Heartbreak. And fighting, for sure.
You could, of course, kill them both. That would solve so many problems for you! Feed your urge, please your father, and remove any obstacle that would distract from your goal. Wouldn’t it be delicious, to drink in their desire, thinking they’ve won your favor-- only for you to break that precious trust as their bodies twist under your blade…
This all of course assuming you could fight off your dark urge still... Rest would not come easy tonight, if at all. But it wouldn't be the first time. Come what may, you would forge your path forward.
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bhaalswn-arch · 1 year
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🔪
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send 🔪 to encounter my muse after they've just killed someone. ( ACCEPTING )
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You don't hear the rustles of leaves, nor the footsteps that sound like they're getting closer. You're stuck in your own world. Drowning in old habits. A red fog in your mind that is slowly consuming you. Devouring you, as you have completely devoured the innocent human who laid dead in the middle of the circle that you're creating in their blood. That primal feeling humming in your brain, even the Tadpole didn't have the strength to stop your urges. Bhaal controls you. Your puppeteer is pulling the strings of the puppet: You. Your hand is forced to kill. The thing that is you. A thing that is to be kept and used for slaughtering those in the name of your God.
Your mouth moves, and a soft-spoken song leaves you. A chant. A song dedicated to Bhaal that is seeping with sick devotion. You repeat it to yourself as you finish the circle. A ritual. A ceremony. You did it with Alfira. Now you've completed another one so that it too can sate not only you, but Bhaal.
Then you stop, your hands red; fingers dripping with blood. You look over your shoulders. The fog has not rolled back. Not yet. You stare at Hale with no recollection of who he is. Your eyes are empty, like a veil that Bhaalists wear to be completely empty to the observer. You're still a Thing for a moment, and your eyes, as weary as they can be in the emptiness, tracks Hale's every movement. Once the fog is clear, you'll remember who he is. But for now, it is thick and bloody in your mind.
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y-rhywbeth2 · 4 months
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Hi. Read you post about the dead three's chosen, and I was wondering about the "We got the threat of sexual exploitation (assuming it didn't happen), there's a subtle undercurrent of incest to some interactions" part. Is this something in the game that I missed? Is it a dnd lore thing?
I also looked through some older posts about Bhaal/Durge stuff, and... Jergal is ruthless and manipulative?! How bad is he? Like, what can a Durge who is free of Bhaal and may be protected by Jergal expect, both in life and afterlife? Are there no good options for Durge (except maybe becoming immortal)?
Also just wanna say thank you for all your dnd lore posts. I've mostly just played in homebrew games, so wotc dnd lore hasn't come up much, and I'm learning so much from your posts!
The good news about Jergal is that he has at least shifted from Lawful Evil to Lawful Neutral, so he's probably somewhat less of a jackass...? We hope. He also tends to prefer subtler manipulation, and seems to let people's own personalities steer them (because they'll take them where he wants them to go naturally); Bane in particular is his unwitting puppet, apparently, but Jergal hasn't directly pulled the strings at all yet, for whatever reason. Jergal's faithful usually 'live' in the City of Judgement on the fugue, or he has them as undead scribes working in his temples on Toril (I imagine it's the same paperwork whichever plane you're on). It's a quiet, but not terribly interesting existence. I doubt he's steal Durge from Bhaal to use as a scribe though. Usually if he needs a servant on the Prime Material plane for some task or other he sends them back as an undead of some kind if/when they die (he likes mummies, usually). He might also be manipulating them into becoming some kind of powerful outsider he can subtly puppet like the Dead Three, or Kelemvor, or Cyric... I really don't know.
(Also I think we're supposed to take Jergal being the 'good guy' at face value in-game.)
Durge could move planes to escape the divine shenanigans. The Dead Three in current times are bound to Toril, and Jergal cannot directly bother you in the city of Sigil at the centre of the universe (which all gods are forbidden to enter on pain of total annihilation courtesy of the Lady of Pain. He can send pawns to bother you, but can't go there or do anything himself.)
No problem. (Unsurprising; homebrew is much easier to manage. I can't imagine how people who are obsessed with the lore of multiple DnD settings cope.)
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And Durge's other 'duty' as Bhaal's Chosen, and their extremely normal relationship with their father is going under a cut.
There's nothing in tabletop lore, past a disturbing Bhaalist spell ('attraction') that can cause love/lust in targets, which is built into Bhaal's avatars and manifestations; some gods having a tendency to sleep with their followers; and a comment from Ed Greenwood that many clergy encourage people to have kids (more people raised from birth within the church = more souls and power for the deity). Also apparently having a tattoo of a god's holy symbol is often a turn on for that god's priests... for some reason...
This stuff mostly comes from the BG3:
The exploitation:
Durge is expected to provide more Bhaalspawn for Bhaal's plans, and always has been. It's most obvious in the feral ending, where Bhaal destroys their mind and puppets them directly, but it's still on their to-do list if they keep his 'love' and become his Chosen:
Sarevok Anchev: 'You failed to bring forth issue while you helmed our cult. It is a mortal sin for a Chosen. I even hoped you and my daughter might one day create a new blood-lamb for us, but it is not to be...'
Durge: 'When I bring ruin to the world, will Bhaal allow me to spare my beloved?' Sceleritas: 'Of course Master! We will always need to sire more Bhaalspawn! Although if they are not up to the task we may need to find you a breeding-mate. Or ten.'
As with anything else in Durge's life, they have no say in Bhaal's intentions for them. They start that conversation off by asking permission to keep their lover and don't even get to respond to being told that they're expected to be breeding stock, probably with a wider range of 'partners'. Just silent acceptance.
The incest:
As ever I could be reading into this, but I'm not the only person who picked up on it so maybe not.
The most overt instances of this implication crops up in the original feral ending and the current, where Bhaal is subjecting Durge to constant rape by inflicting sexual hyperarousal on them and forcing them to have sex in order to breed an army of Bhaalspawn by cross-breeding them with various monsters... which they don't actually remember, because it's not the monsters they're thinking of during the act, where it's implied that Bhaal is forcing them to think of him:
*Your memory of last night's act is absent. In the moment of mounting, your mind emptied itself, and you could think only of Bhaal. The gnoll's rump seemed to become his Temple's graven altar where you once led worship.*
"Father, I love you. I'm a good spawn. A good little spawn."*
Alternatively: "a good boy/girl."
And in one of the Bhaalist religious texts you can find in game that describes how Bhaal basically gives his followers orgasms when they murder:
"Once Bhaal's favour has quickened within one oh his beloved murderers, the bliss of his love is nigh-indescribable. For he blesses his loyal with a new sensation: a mindless, instinctual, primal sensation that comes within the bowels, an erotic spasm that washes over the killer, in the moment of murder. It is said that in that instant, his Divine Essence can almost be tasted. Forsake all other hedonisms, acolytes, for nothing can compare. Until the true ecstasies of murder wash over you, initiates, this scroll contains a prayer, you may say after a kill, calling for the Lord's disgrace to find its course in your body."
The Urge - which is Bhaal as much as it's Durge- does/can cause sexual arousal, which indicates that Bhaal does do this to them or is at least inflicting his own 'pleasure' on them by experiencing the kills through them.
*Your body feels aroused imagining a broken twisted neck, and a thrill thinking of a trailing intestine.*
'I feel the most intense pleasure [when killing]. Arousal, even.'
*The masterful painting [Minthara] depicts of the massacre awakens you hungrily.* Durge: 'Stop! I'm growing aroused!' or Durge: 'How delightful, I'm very eager to begin.' Nightwarden Minthara: 'Control yourself - you are as uncouth as the goblins.'
Notably Minthara responds the same even if Durge doesn't flat out say it, so I'd assume they're having the same response to that 'hunger' regardless.
In the same area you find that text, if you become the 'Chosen' of the Redcap masquerading as Bhaal to the kuo-toa, you get this:
*Mad guilt swills in your swooning, sick body. Today you became the tart of a false God, and your evil pride revolts.*
'Tart' being the polite way of saying 'whore', which on its own might just be a poetic way of calling them unfaithful to their religion, but with the extra context is beginning to form a potential pattern. I don't know whether Durge is referring to themselves, or if it's Bhaal calling them that. Or which is worse.
Similarly, the dream where Bhaal summons you to the duel with Orin to become his Chosen is labelled 'BloodWedding'. Again, wedding has more than one meaning, but it's most common usage is of the marital kind, and *gestures at the context of the fuckery above helplessly*
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And if you go through with the whole thing and accept Bhaal, Sceleritas will tell you this:
'You and the Urge are wedded, now. One body, one mind.'
Oh, and if you have a love interest they're your 'false bride.' Let's not ask who the real one is.
Also this is a possible dialogue option if you sleep with the drow guy at Sharess' Caress and is meant to be humorous, but apparently Durge does take their daddy issues into the bedroom:
Player: 'I'm a disappointment to my father. Maybe we can work with that.'
I feel like I've forgotten some parts, but that's the gist of it.
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