#i am thinking about that one line of minthara at the portal that is buried in the data files - a whisper of something that could have been

[ride-a-dromedary]

You know, I was kinda robbed of a Halsin and Minthara surface enemies to tentative alliance under the player character arc, and that the two of them will likely never see fully eye to eye on anything, and primarily seem like complete opposites of one another, but fundamentally they are both born of tragedy and shaped by a robbery of agency and loss, and their similarities ghost begrudgingly in and out even as their differences scream the loudest - Son of the Sun and Daughter of Darkness and all that.

And they both think Baldur's Gate is the pits so they could have just been mad about that together.

[thefallenangelsgang]

This is the incomplete scene the line from the tag game is pulled from. I'm not tagging it with anything in the hopes it gets hopelessly buried but I am too excited to not share. I am not kidding when I say narrative has not felt this easy in a long time.

Spoilers for Act 3 of Baldur's Gate, TW for Blood and Body Fluids (spinal fluid to be precise), I wanted the stakes to feel a little higher so I peppered in some bodily trauma hence the blood 'n stuff, brief uncouth language (there's a few fucks sprinkled in there)

Some context for it: this picks up after the failed Elder Brain Domination sequence immediately as the portal closes with the Party in the Astral Plane. The Tav and Narrator is a High Elf named Wynleth, she romanced Gale. All of the Companions (minus Minthara cause she didn't make it into the cool kids club) plus two OCs (repped by hirelings in my gameplay) are present.

Also, Emperor hate if you are sensitive to that. I'm not the Tentacle's biggest fan frankly, hence why this exists.

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At times the squirming feeling had been uncomfortable. It even had been painful, distracting from whatever I was attempting to focus on. This is a whole other plane of being. The fire in my cranium consumes me, making coherent thought impossible. My mouth is filled with the distinct taste of copper and something I cannot place. Pressure builds and it makes it feel like my eardrums might rupture or perhaps my head might just explode altogether. That almost would be a welcome release from this torture

Then all at once it stops. The sudden shift from everything being too much to feeling nothing at all is damn near deafening in a different way than the pressure and pain was. I loll in disorientation and hands steady me, bracing my shoulders. 

My vision swims at first. Blues and purples and greys swirl like strange liquid in a glass jar. It only adds to the dizziness brought on by the pervasive numbness. The hands are still gripping my shoulders. I can almost feel my hands, almost. The gritty texture against my palms speaks to handfuls of dirt clenched in my fists. I will myself to release them.

It’s muffled but I think someone speaks my name. So close I can feel the vibrations in my chest yet we might as well be separated by an eternity. It’s an effort to bring my hand up to grip their forearm. It’s an even greater effort to bring my head up to look them in the eyes. 

I can’t discern exactly who it is through the intricate dance the colors are doing in my eyes. The figure is dark against the shimmering ethereal background so it is not one of my fairer companions whose complexions would only muddle my identification more. I try to ask for a name but a strained sound is the only thing to push past my lips. Well that and a bit more blood.

A new wave of numbness washes over me starting from the crown of my head and spreading to the very edges of my person. A little clarity comes with it this time and the vertigo subsides.

“Take it easy, you gave us quite a scare.”

Shadowheart. Still muffled but sounding closer by the second. Something I’m hoping resembles a smile graces my face. 

Then The Emperor speaks and a crashing wave of pain drowns the words out, ripping a cry from my mouth. No fresh blood this time though. 

A pulse of Shadowheart’s healing magic surges through me, a touch too harsh considering she is dealing with my brain pan, but I think that can be forgiven given that it sounds like she is reaming the Illithid for all it’s worth. 

“-stupid? Her brain has been scrambled enough. Until she’s stable, kindly shut the fuck up.” 

The silence after is telling. That round of healing must have knocked something back into place though, the dirt comes into sharp focus. I never thought I’d be so happy to see pebbles. I’m less pleased to see the amount of blood and clear liquid that mars the ground and both pairs of knees in my field of view. “Sorry about your pants.”

My speech is still lethargic and ungraceful and I certainly missed the mark on the coy tone I was going for, but the way Gale’s face floods with relief at my coherence feels almost as good as the magic coursing through my veins. 

“My pants? Don’t ever scare me like that again!” The incredulity of his initial statement melts into something of a mix of concern and joy as he cups my face. His eyes betray the fright I put him through though. I wish I had the strength to feel sorry about that but I really can only make room for relief at the moment. “I really thought that was going to be it,” I say thickly before gathering some saliva to spit the fluid in my mouth off to the side. 

“So did we. It was… a lot.” Shadowheart is somewhere behind me. The fear peeks through her usually even cadence. I must have put on quite a show. “Is this clear stuff what I think it is?” I venture and really hope she doesn’t affirm my suspicions. Spinal fluid means something was desperately wrong. I grit my teeth as I wait for a response.

“Y-Yes. I think so at least.” Now she touches me. A gentle hand between my shoulder blades. “You’d think they turned on a hose the way it sprayed out of you, darling.”

The urge to laugh at Astarion’s colorful retelling of the events is a difficult fight, one I lose. I bury it into my shoulder and try to cover it with a cough but the way Gale clucks his tongue at the comment of very poor taste breaks the dam. My reaction cracks a smile on the wizard’s face, however miniscule, though. 

“I’m sorry my love, it’s all just a little absurd,” I say, still gallantly attempting to retain some composure.

“You’re cracking.” 

“Spectacularly.”

Teasing each other in this moment seems entirely irreverent to the fact that I almost just died and that the situation we are in just got a whole lot more grim but the Gods can strike us down for attempting to find some levity. 

Gently I lean forward and rest my head against Gale’s shoulder. I’m fucking tired and I feel lightheaded despite everything Shadowheart has done but there’s very little she can do about that without actual supplies. I’m short a not insubstantial bit of liquid between the blood and the spinal fluid. It certainly looks worse than it is though. We could try a cocktail of potions and elixirs to get me back up to speed but I think I’d rather rest a bit before we try drugging me into fighting shape. Gale’s arms around me feel nice.

“Am I all clear Shadowheart?” I turn to rest my temple on Gale’s clavicle. From this vantage I can see my party gathered around in a tight bunch wearing grim faces of worry. Shadowheart looks exhausted, I likely took quite a bit out of her, but she nods. 

The Emperor floats back over and makes a motion like it’s asking permission to speak, shocking me more than it probably should. But if the psionic link is going to turn my brain to soup then maybe it is best to ask the cleric first before she has to revive me again. Her stern gaze is comforting and promises hell if I end up with more liquid leaking out my nose. 

The psionics aren’t painful per se, they certainly are more uncomfortable than usual. I try not to grimace too much and make Shadowheart call the communication off. Charades are not indicative of good battle plans and I have a feeling reading is only going to make the lingering headache worse. Besides, we really don’t have time.

“The situation is worse than I thought.” I watch Astarion roll his eyes theatrically. He chooses to keep his mouth shut. Smart man. “What you went up against is an Elder Brain no longer. The magic of the crown has caused it to evolve. It has become something more - a Netherbrain.”

“Is that why I took up the role of a garden water feature when I tried to dominate it?” The withering looks I get from my companions are severe. I roll my eyes gently and burrow into Gale’s neck a little more. Try coping with this clusterfuck in a reasonable manner. 

“I wouldn’t have used that turn of phrase but- yes. It unleashed the psionic power back on you. You are lucky I pulled you out of there. We nearly lost everything.”

And reality comes crashing down.