#but also Gortash not feeling a need to make them sign one (this continues into the main game where the most binding thing you do is say you

[shaykai]

//BG3 SPOILERS

Something about Gortash getting Orin to sign the “don’t stab me contracts” by lying and telling her that Durge also had to sign them- and for just a moment Orin latching onto that belief.

Gortash got to live because they literally couldn’t end him, not because there was some sick sort of affection there. Her bloodkin, stupid as they were, would never sink so low as to actually care about anyone, not to mention Bane’s Chosen of all people.

And then promptly finding out/realizing that Gortash is a liar and probably trying to stab him about it

[magical-girl-coral]

Karlach Arc act 3 rewrite idea

Upon meeting a Steel Watcher on Wyrm's crossing, he'll tell Karlach her engine is out of date and she needs to report the Steel Watch Foundry. This will give the location of the foundry (I still don't understand why the fuck wasn't this given in the game).

When confronting Gortash in the throne room after his coronation about her engine heart being called old fashioned, he'll tell Karlach he does feel bad about what he "had" to do and promises to fix up her heart. Karlach then has a conversation sign above her head and says "I've been betrayed by this rat once already. I want to know what he is really after". You'll get a mission in her quest to find Gortash's secret plans as a result.

When asking Karlach where she thinks he would hide his blueprints, she mentions a house he was weirdly obsessed with during her bodyguard days. She could have sworn he said once "no one can ruin them lives but him". You find out it's where his parents are, how they've abused him and why sold him to the hells for gold. If you confess the mother you're here to kill Gortash, she tells you about the key in her pocket for his room.

In his childhood bedroom, you get to find several journals, some half made gadgets and a child's painting of what is now a Steel Watcher, labeled "my protector." There are two interactive blueprints on his table: one of a steel heart labeled "failure" and a massive Steel Watcher on fire. The journal spoke of his frustration of not being able to on up the hells by fixing Karlach's heart and his plan became darker as his obsession of getting back at devils grew. Instead wanted to kidnap Karlach and "save" her by turning her into the ultimate Steel Watcher.'

Karlach, understandably, loses her temper and if you fail a persuasion check or don't stop her at all, burns the house down to the ground from pure rage, killing the Flymms in the process. You should pick the blueprints of Gortash's failed heart replacement before burning down the house.

After stealing the blueprints and killing Gortash, you have two choices: either find Dammon and ask him to fix Karlach's heart with the blueprints, or the Gondians (but they only agree if you save their families. This option is locked if you let them die in the iron throne.) The heart Gortash labeled as a failure wasn't a failure after all, just imperfect. Karlach was so burned up from the hells that every metal inside of her melts after a period of time. Gortash was too obsessed with perfection to see this as a good result and ditched the idea.

The replacement heart has it's ups and downs. The ups is that if you collect infernal metal from the fallen Steel Watchers, the chosen blacksmith can give Karlach a new and more organic engine to help her continue living. But there are some downsides; she can't go anywhere too hot or too cold without possibly damaging the metal. She can't strand away from main cities with better medical equipment if she needs an emergency replacement so her outlander traveling is restricted. She will also need to replace the heart every few years once the infernal metal starts to decay.

Kalrach's arc essentially becomes a choice of what a lot of people with medical problems have to do, whether it's having to live by taking pills every day, wearing prosthetics or just dealing with a disability that limits your possible futures. She either dies from a blazing glory or lives longer with a prosthetic heart that limits her traveling plans. Like Lae'zel and Shadowheart, if you don't converse with her enough throughout her journey, she will choose her bad ending.

Notes:

Gortash's journal entry date shows he become obsessed with fixing Karlach after he caught Raphael talking with the party around act one. The fact that it was specifically Raphael was what send him over the edge.

Gortash wouldn't care less if Karlach dies after he fixes her heart in a world where he could. He didn't care if she makes it or not as long as he can stick to hell one last time.

I have a rough draft where when the party descends onto hell, a devil that words under Zariel shows up (either Flo or Mizora) to give Karlach a new "perfect" heart that could withstand her heat. The catch is that the heart was made purely from the core of hell and it would corrupt her the second it gets in. She becomes a lot more reckless and apathetic, like when she was given her soul coins in act two. If she isn't talked with enough or proven better options, she accepts the deal as a desperate attempted to escape death. (I can't for the life of me figure out where to put this in the game. Maybe during the house of hope?)

If Karlach accepts the prosthetic heart option by talking to either blacksmith, she refuses to become a Mindflayer.

During the epilogue party, Karlach says she's been wandering all over the sword coast to make up for lost time as a mercenary for hire. If Wyll returns to being the Blade of Frontiers, she mentions she started her journey with Wyll, but they went separate ways once she needed more cities to see. She also visited Gale in Waterdeep and helped Lae'zel in the outer planes with a rough battle.

If the MC romances Karlach, they get multiple dialogues options to where the traveled after the Elder brained was finished. There isn't a inch of Faerun Karlach doesn't want to meet.

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 15

Enver Gortash/Trans male Tiefling Durge

Content warnings: attempted rape, dead naming, misgendering

The following morning, Sentry and Enver stood redressing in the sculpture garden. Their eyes occasionally met with an almost magnetic feeling. Neither spoke a word until they were both fully clothed and standing before The Slayer and The Tyrant sculptures.

“It is a stunning piece, my love.” Gortash remarked.

“Your...” Sentry felt his face flush brightly at the words. He could almost smile at them until he felt a wrenching pain in his head and a twist in his stomach, vision blurring red for a moment. Father's disapproval.

“In fact, it gives me an idea. Give me about a day to do some digging and I'll send word.” The Tyrant continued, his expression deeply thoughtful, brimming with the tell tale signs of inspiration.

Sentry shook off the whispers with some effort and nodded. “With that being said, sending it with a messenger might be dangerous, I think we need some extra security when it comes to planning things together.”

“Yes, you're right. After all, not just our own subordinates but prying eyes within the city.” Enver agreed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I'd imagine a man of your creative interests dabbles beyond the visual arts. How are you with language?”

“I mean, I've read a lot. Copper Dreadfuls mostly.” Sentry replied, turning and running a hand over the bowed head of his Slayer sculpture, lovingly examining the horns for any touch ups that might be needs. “I don't know how that might help...only.....” He paused a moment and wrinkled his nose in thought. “Only in one of them, the detective at quite a devil of a time solving notes he found at the crime scene....you see, the killer communicated in code with his network of underlings.”

“You know, I think I've also read that one in passing. It's not a bad idea.” Enver nodded. “Alright then. We'll come up with one. Just between you and I.”

“Then I'll see you again soon. I look forward to discussing it.” Sentry grinned broadly. The two made their way to the entrance of the macabre gallery and stood a moment, the uncertainty of whether to kiss or simply part ways heavy in the air.

Sentry turned and made his way back towards the temple while Enver went the opposite direction back to the ladder that would lead to the surface.

The entire way home, flashes of pain lashed Sentry's mind and body. Father's red rage making itself known even as he forced himself to stand tall, proud, and imposing as his family would expect. As he walked through the door, he noticed no one was in the common area where they usually were.

“Such a shame.” He sighed. “I was really hoping for another entertaining confrontation, maybe one that might come to blows this time. Ah well.”

He made his way to his bedroom, once the door was open, he began shrugging off his clothing. He was vaguely aware he'd never returned to Sharess' Caress that night, but ah well, he would make it up to his friends tonight. After all, if he knew Ffion, she would simply assume his night had been a great success if he'd been out so long and he was certain Wysp wouldn't mind half as much as everyone thought he would. After all, Sentry held no illusions. Wysp was a friend, Sentry was a client. Anyone who thought someone they were paying was in love with them was an egotistical fool.

As Sentry sat down at his desk to sketch, he was distracted by thoughts of the previous night. He could still feel the sweet, sticky warmth inside him, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. He didn't hear a thing, didn't notice until a dark grey hand was already over his mouth, with the other forcing one of his arms behind his back.

“Father's upset with you, little cub.” The rough, growling voice sneered. Sentry felt the hot breath reeking of cheap booze on his ear. “Told me himself, he did.”

Sentry squirmed and struggled, flipping the charcoal in free hand. It wasn't as sharp as he'd like, but it would make a wound with enough force. He jammed it backwards into Jackal's side, but the angle was wrong, it didn't pierce flesh. Sentry thrashed his body, trying to slam his head into Jackal's face, only managing to knock against his shoulder.

“Struggle and squirm, struggle and squirm. Flail about like the helpless girlie you are.” The drow chuckled. “Father says he's warned you about breeding outside the family line, you little whore.”

“I'm not breeding. I can fuck who I please and that will never be you!” Sentry gave a hard shove backwards, tipping his chair, finally connecting it with Jackal's chest and knocking him backwards. The two rolled to the floor, both scrambling for control as Sentry pulled free and struggled to his feet. Jackal stood up panting just across from him and they circled eachother.

“You're weak, Vereena. You can't do shit without your axes and blades.” Jackal smirked, violet eyes never leaving Sentry. Animal hunger evident in them as the ranger eyed up his prey.

“And you're a fucking fool if you think that's true.” Sentry bristled at the name. “I'll kill you here and now with my bare hands and father will thank me.”

The two sized eachother up, neither making a sudden move. Sentry was tense, wary. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew father was angry. He would have been lying if he'd claimed not to know the reason. But he was chosen, he was the one who was worthy, father could be placated, he knew. The way was always the same. His eyes fell on Jackal's throat, flaring with breath, pulsing with blood.

“The fuck are you staring at, cub?” The drow barked. That was it. His guard was down a second too long and Sentry pounced.

His teeth were in Jackal's throat, ripping and tearing like a wild animal. Useless without his blades, was he? Sentry knew otherwise and his unworthy brother would only be the most recent to learn that. He tasted foul. The odious flavor of the Underdark permeating his blood and meat as Sentry's vision went blood red, mouth filled with elf flesh.

The sickening gurgling and gasping noises were just a vague buzzing in his ears, the knife in his back was barely an insect's sting as he felt the body going limp and lifeless beneath him. He was only half aware of someone helping him to a sitting position and lovingly dabbing at his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Oh, my malevolent monarch can be quite the messy eater, can't he? But I know you do so enjoy it when your breakfast fights back, young master.” Sceleritas cooed softly, fussing over Sentry, expertly removing the hunting knife embedded in this shoulder blade. “Mister Silk was warned so many times to show the proper respect you are due. Such a shame.” The fiend clicked his tongue and shook his head at the corpse. “Shall I take the leftovers to the kitchens, Master?”

“No, he tastes disgusting. Dump him somewhere...Or hang him up as a warning. I really don't care.” Sentry sniffed, disgusted. “I'd say lay him on an altar, but it'd be an insult to father.”

“Ah yes...and on that note, my boy....I did come bearing another message.” Sceleritas began, his tone a bit more tactful now. “While Mister Silk deserved his fate, his words were...not entirely incorrect. Your father of course knows you are not the person your failed set of parents claimed you to be. You rose far above that when you expertly eviscerated them and turned their home into such a delightful gallery of horrors. However, he is aware of your...extracurricular activities....with Bane's Chosen. Please, young Master, be more judicious in how you take your pleasure. Breeding is to be kept within the family.”

“Why does it always come down to breeding? I wasn't -BREEDING- I was fucking.” Sentry snapped. “I'll die before I 'breed' ever again.”

“Of course, of course, my rotted Master. I know, but you must be more careful! I shall fetch Tomi to bring you the proper potions immediately in that case.” Sceleritas bowed and scurried off.

“The next person to say the word 'breeding' is getting a pallet knife through the skull.” Sentry muttered to himself, righting his chair and cursing as he furiously crumpled the ruined page Jackal had disrupted.