Switching PoVs a few times, labelled for clarity.

Easter Egg: Dragon Age Inquisition

But first some maps for logistics and a blitz summary of the general sequence of neighbourhoods in Baldur's Gate. The farther along the sequence the farther away the neighbourhood is.

- (Outer City) Rivington > Twin Songs > Sow's Foot > Whitkeep > Norchapel & Little Calimshan > Stonyeyes > (Lower City) Eastway

- To the South East from Eastway > Brampton > (Outer City) Tumbledown

- To the North West and onward from Eastway > Heapside > The Steeps > Bloomridge > Seatower

- (Upper City) Manorborn > Temples & Citadel Streets > The Wide

- (Outer City, far end of BG on other side of Upper City) Blackgate

LINK: Baldur's Gate interactive Map on World Anvil. Top right hand side for 'How to Use' & Markers.

LINK: Rivington, Lower City. Includes BG3 points of interest.

Alright, let's get to it then.

Tav PoV

Tav only needed to remind herself that the Gate was just around the corner. It has been an awful lot of corners this morning. Her head was pounding, and she was sure that the streaming sunlight was piercing right into her brain. The previous night's revelry carried on longer than anyone expected, but unfortunately they couldn't delay any further. It's not like the Chosen would stall their plans for their group to recover properly. For the most part, Tav wasn't alone in her self-induced misery; there were squinting and pained expressions all round while they trudged along the road. Except for Nyx and Astarion; the abstainer and the hangover-immune.

She pouted, It's not fair.

Nyx gave her a knowing smile when Tav caught her eye. And smug about it too.

Shadowheart and Gale mentioned a miraculous herbal remedy that would instantly cure their collective affliction, but alas, those ingredients weren't the easiest to come by. Regardless, her crew were merrier than ever despite the throbbing of their heads. One moment they would be jesting and laughing; the next scrunching their faces and sniggering about how much their heads hurt. As well as some comments about hoping they'd drowned their tadpoles in the process.

Nyx quipped, "Pickled them, I'd say."

Hah! Good one - Owee! Don't make me laugh...

Lunch and more walking sobered them up to the point where laughing no longer incited the wrath of last night's poor choices. Finally, the 'truly last corner' arrived, and Tav's stomach was aflutter with butterflies. The tree line gave way, and she halted, Gale almost walking into her. The scene before her was both the most beautiful and grotesque she'd experienced. Gasps, gaping and incoherent grumbling swept through her crew.

Karlach broke the silence. "Well, consider my flabbers ghasted."

There were good-hearted chuckles, but the scene remained unnerving. The view was dominated by Rivington Gate. Beyond lay the start of the Outer City, the sparkling Chionthar River framed by Duskhawk Hill to the left and the sprawl of Baldur's Gate to the right - slightly obscured by the balmy afternoon haze. Rivington sat atop the river, peaceful and seemingly going about its day. However, the welcome sight of the city was tainted by blackened blood, corpses and broken equipment surrounding the road to the Gate.

Flaming Fists and ununiformed workers scurried back and forth over the area. Dragging bodies of various races, species and sizes to mass graves for disposal. One grave smouldered in the background, bringing with it the gagging stench of burning meat. A crowd was gathered before the Gate, their hand-waving becoming more urgent as Tav’s group approached. Refugees, merchants, and other common folk were squabbling among themselves and the guards, all while vying for entry.

A plump carpet salesman in mustard-yellow garb threw his fists in the air and shouted over the din, "How is this possible? I have standard paperwork already! Stamped, signed, approved! If you don't let me in now; I'll not be able to rid the rugs of this horrid smell!" He coughed into the expensive handkerchief over his mouth.

The seated guard behind the table pointed at the papers strewn between them. "You don't have the latest declaration forms, so I cannot let you through until you have them."

"How am I supposed to get them if I cannot even enter the city in the first place! Ridiculous!"

The guard merely shrugged and gestured for the family behind the merchant to step forward. Those folk looked to have 'their papers' in order and were let through. The carpet salesman scoffed and ordered his caravan to turn away from the Gate, threatening to report 'this insanity' to the Baldur's Gate's merchant consortium.

Tav shared nervous glances with the others. It's not like she'd made sure to pack 'her papers' when the Nautiloid grabbed her up that day. Not that the mindflayers would have cared about keeping her papers safe in any case. Fortunately, there was more than one way to get into the city, official or not. She winked at the others, and their worried expressions settled.

"Present your resident slips." The guard yawned.

Tav said sweetly, "We didn't think to pack ours, good sir. We'd never needed to have them on us for checks like this before."

He gave her a raised eyebrow, appraised her gear, weapons and each of her companions. "The adventuring type, eh? New orders from on high, I'm afraid, because of -" He made a swooping motion at the ongoing cleanup from the battle.

She pursed her lips in concern. "Bad luck, yes. But we really need to get in."

He regarded her thoughtfully. "Any other proof of citizenship?"

Tav chewed the inside of her cheek. "Not in slips."

His eyes twinkled briefly, and he furrowed his brows, thinking it over as though it were a conundrum indeed. He surveyed their group again, rested his chin on folded hands, propping himself up on the table. He lifted a finger, pointing in their general direction, and said in a low voice. "There is a lot of you."

She mimicked his tone. "We're good for it."

He nodded sagely as though they spoke of a very serious matter, shifted in his seat and called one of the other guards. A younger man approached, and the desk guard said, "Gauntlet Demir here will get you sorted. NEXT!"

--- --- ---

Nyx PoV

"I can't believe we had to pay our way into the city!" Astarion peered into his lighter coin pouch. "Blatant daylight robbery!"

Tav sighed. "I haggled as hard as I could, but the extra coin we spent to keep our names off those 'citizen donation' forms of Gortash will be more than worth it in the end."

Nyx felt bitter about it too. She knew bribes weren't cheap - but hadn't expected paying that much. There were more discontent grumbles after Tav mentioned for them to be on the lookout for work to make up for it. They carried on the road away from the gate until they stood atop an incline overlooking Rivington.

Karlach took an exaggerated breath. "Aw, smells the same. Ten years on, and still it smells like home."

Astarion wrinkled his nose. "Was it always so, fishy?"

She guffawed and slapped him across the back, making him grimace. "Soak it up! We really, really made it!"

The mood lightened, and they gazed around eagerly. Tav's grin matching Karlach and Wyll's.

Rivington wasn't the prettiest of fore-cities, but it had a certain amount of excitement and a sense of arrival to it. It was mostly as Nyx remembered it; part farmstead, part maritime town. The sounds of people and life were comforting - dogs barking, seagulls flying overhead, farm animals and their handlers walking by. From their vantage point, her eyes travelled over the undulating rooftops to Wyrm's Crossing in the distance. Its houses clung to the massive bridge that spanned over the Chionthar to Twin Songs. On the opposing riverbank, the neighbourhood settled between the yellow granite hilltops and forests of changing colour. Whereas the river itself and its boats were obscured by the houses and barns.

Tav straightened and said definitively, "Right, let's not keep Voss waiting. Sharess' Caress should be our first port of call."

---

At Halsin and Shadowheart's behest, they took a quick detour to a nearby windmill. Out of sight, it offered some privacy. Halsin made a series of whistles, and Shadowheart joined in. Caws replied, and two ravens swooped down, each perching on an extended arm. Shadowheart stroked the lean, collared white one's chest, and it squirmed in delight.

Halsin addressed the large brown one. "Until we find a more suitable spot, it'll be best for you to blend in." The chunky raven tilted his head, and slowly blinked its uncharacteristically large eyes.

Shadowheart and Halsin recited incantations for polymorph spells. Blue magic engulfed the ravens simultaneously. The white one returned to being Scratch, his tongue lolling out, nuzzling Shadowheart's hand for more attention. Bean joined Scratch's shape, although his frame was more heavy set and rounded. Bean, now disguised as a dog, curiously peered up at windmill's spinning blades with wide orange eyes. After a round of hugs and pets; both people and animal companions continued onward.

As though seeing Rivington anew, multiple sights and sounds distracted them on their way to Wyrm's Crossing. The general store had an extension built, and the temple of Illmater sported gleaming roof tiles, although the renovations were offset by the large refugee camp that spread all the way to the river. A group of rowdy people drew their attention away from the river toward a striking display nearby.

A plot had been fenced off and massive stalls erected, covered by sails of different sizes, shapes and hues. Music blared from within, and strange noises made people cheer. A line of patrons and children waited at its entrance, pointing excitedly at the attractions within. The signboards dotted around read 'Circus of the Last Days', and a grin tugged at Nyx's mouth.

When Lucretious is in town, everyone knows.

Karlach bounded on her toes. "Ooh, can we go?"

Lae'zel glared at her, and Karlach did her best impression of Scratch's puppy dog eyes. Karlach pleaded, "Pretty please."

Lae'zel rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I should not have to remind you that dallying could be fatal."

"Party pooper."

Gale gestured with an open hand. "Surely we could spare a few hours after meeting Voss."

The rest nodded, acting like reasonable adults when the eagerness was as clear on their faces as it was for the queuing children.

Wyll said, "We'll need to find a place to stay the night. We might as well treat ourselves."

Lae'zel's glare turned into a scowl. "Why is so important that we visit that... establishment?"

"Oh darling, you'll see."

---

More crowds and more fuss met them at the foot of Wyrm's Crossing. The gatehouse leading to the bridge has been shut, and sterner, heavily armed guards blocked its access. One of the Flaming Fists Manip's projected across the front of the gathering.

"You well know that only those with passes may cross. Those without should leave. Otherwise, loiterers are free to spend the night in the Keep's cells!"

Someone shouted, "Shove your passes!"

"Let us in!" Cheers and yowls of assent rose from the crowd. "We have family on the other side!"

The Manip turned and gestured to the Fists at the gatehouse. People scurried behind the gate and, shortly after, the portcullis screeched open, revealing a colossal figure standing in its shadow. A hush fell on the crowd when a series of gushing noises and thudding footsteps shook the ground. The figure stepped into the light.

"Nine hells!"

An automaton marched forward, steam gushing from joints between mirror-polished metal that gleamed blindingly. Atop its head sat a great crested helm in the colours of the Fist's uniform, its body covered in thick armour and it clutched an oversized claymore in one hand. The Manip crossed her arms and surveyed the onlookers, who whispered the same name: 'Steel Watch.' It loomed over the crowd. And spoke!

The mechanical voice boomed. "Good citizens of Baldur's Gate. Your cooperation is appreciated. Please have your passes ready for inspection. Trade goods and any animals should be declared before crossing. For everyone's safety, disorder will not be tolerated."

Much of the crowd dispersed begrudgingly.

Nyx puffed out her cheeks and shared concerned glances with the others. They stood aside for those with passes, and Tav braved the queue.

After some time, Tav returned and informed the rest. "Each of us needs an 'Outer City' pass."

Astarion tilted his head. "And? We can't procure one of these from the guards?"

"I don't mind a gamble, but not when that thing is hovering."

"Fair enough."

Karlach visibly deflated. "No punching our way through then?"

Astarion sighed in regret. "Or stabbing."

Wyll shook his head in dismay. "No punching or stabbing please."

Tav grinned, searched the road up ahead and pointed. "Apparently, we can apply for ours at the city couriers."

--- --- ---

Tav PoV

"Three weeks?!" Tav stared at the postmaster.

Her exasperation and the other's comments to the same effect didn't bother him in the slightest. He shrugged and corrected, "Minimum time."

"But- We'll have become mi-..." Tav took a moment to check herself. She cleared her throat, her mind grasping for something, anything. "We'll have missed Margaret's wedding by that time."

Wyll asked from behind, "Could we get them sooner? Say, apply for urgent issuing?"

The postmaster nodded. "Aye, a sponsor could get you one sooner. One, two days."

"Alright, how does it work?"

The postmaster explained sponsors were either private individuals, such as one of the noble family's patriar or companies actively looking for employees. In which case, they’ll have several pre-issued passes with them to recruit any workers for immediate employment.

Wyll scratched one of his horns. "Why did they instantiate these to begin with? The riot at the gates will only grow."

The postmaster shook his head. "No, the Steel Watch aint trifling. Crowds are noise and nothing more. Besides, most folk feel safer because it keeps the 'unwanteds' out."

Tav's brow creased. "Unwanteds?"

Not answering, his gaze swept over her companions, and he asked, "Been out for a while, eh? Here, have a Gazette." He pushed the broadsheet across the counter, and Tav picked it up. Her eye glanced over the major headlines, settling on an article, and she read it out loud, "Lord Gortash sanctioned regulations to tighten the noose on crime and curb refugee unrest."

"Sanctioned by whom?"

The postmaster replied, "Duke Ravengard."

A silence fell on the room, and Tav gave Wyll a sympathetic look. She stuck a hand in her pocket and waved the broadsheet in her other, "Can I buy this one off you?"

"No, no. You'll be doin' me a favour taking it."

"Any more? Older editions?"

He ducked behind the counter and handed her a pile of old Gazettes. Tav gathered up the application forms and papers, and stuffed them in her pack. She lead her companions out of the office, leaving the coin on the counter.

They huddled by the well next to the courier's office.

Gale peered into the depths of the well, his voice echoing within, "A sponsor then? But who?" He glanced at his companions, "No offence, but I'd not be willing to hand out passes to us."

Tav chewed her lip. "Why?"

"Firstly, we look like riff-raff."

She gasped, "Yes! Like mercenaries." And appraised her crew with determination, her hands on her hips.

"Eh, I suppose."

"We could use that..." Her spinning thoughts were interrupted by Halsin.

"What about the Harpers? Did Jaheira not give us directions to their safe house?"

There were sage nods, and Tav said, "As luck would have it." She pointed in the general direction of the bridge. "Dandelion's Dancing Axe is on the other side too."

If only we could get a message across... Wait!

"Halsin, could you get a missive to Jaheira? Rope in the local wildlife?"

"Hah! Wildlife it a bit of a stretch, darling."

Ignoring unhelpful remarks, slow smiles spread collectively between them. Halsin put a hand on his chest. "I'll see to finding our own recruits. We'll likely need some incentives for them too." His grin widened at Tav's quizzical look, and said, "Food will do."

--- --- ---

Astarion PoV

Astarion glared at the treacle of silhouettes crossing the bridge. Tav had decided that the day was not wasted yet and dragged them to the refugee camp. Her excuse was to get the 'unofficial story' to go along with her 'official gazette' ones. However, the information-gathering process included far too much work on his account.

Chatting to the 'locals' while carrying their water for them? Absolutely not.

To make matters worse, everyone joined the priests of Illmater to hand out blankets and provisions, leaving him with little else to do except repeat the rug merchant's sentiments.

This is utterly ridiculous!

"Good afternoon," Nyx addressed someone behind him in a pleasant tone. "I'd like to make a donation to your refugee fund."

What!? He spun around and stomped right up to her while she retrieved her coin pouch. The wrinkly old priestess smiled approvingly at Nyx.

His voice was a low hiss. "You can't be serious, my dear. We have better use for coin than throwing it away on-"

"On what? 'Unwanteds?'" The conviction in her voice and the challenge in her gaze took him aback.

"I, uh, that's not what I meant." He spoke more carefully, the priestess regarding him with amusement. "We have more pressing problems."

Nyx gave him an askance look, but her expression softened into the same amusement. It grossly annoyed him. She said, "Astarion, I can spend my money on whatever I please."

"Hmmph, giving it away to strangers is hardly a wise choice."

"I'll be the judge of that." She handed a bundle of coins to the priestess, whose eyebrows shot up for a moment and whose smile deepened. Nyx stowed her pouch, faced him and dug out one of his hands from his crossed arms. Giving it a squeeze she said, "You don't need to worry about my finances."

It was his turn to arch an eyebrow. "Why do I get the distinct feeling that you're holding out on me again?"

The coyness of her shrug drew his eyes to the loveliness of her neck. She drifted away, a knowing smirk on her lips, and his eyes travelled down to her legs. His admiration was disturbed by a croaking sound. Illmater's priestess was squirming in delight.

Gods, how much money did she give?

"Ooh." She crinkled her wrinkly face at him, both hands held over her heart. "Young love. Seeing it makes my old bones feel young again too. You take good care of it, you hear, especially in such dark times."

Pfft, young? I'm older than you, most likely.

"If you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to old hens clucking." He left with a dramatic swerve of his body and a sneer on his lips - the old hen clucking after.

--- --- ---

Nyx PoV

They had found the Elturel tiefling refugees among the dusty makeshift tents and crooked wooden structures. Nyx was frowning at another set of propaganda posters on a nearby notice board. Gortash's face among them titled 'Our Saviour'. She rolled her eyes, At least we have a good idea of what the asshole looks like now.

Karlach and Shadowheart were supervising the children, who were rough-housing with the animals as they squealed and growled at each other. Halsin had set off to find messengers, while the rest were following a lead on a place for their group to make camp for the night.

One of the tieflings, Bex, asked Tav, "Why are you still here? We thought you'd be through days ago."

Tav's shoulders slumped. "No, we are just as susceptible to Gortash's new regulations like everyone else."

They scoffed in unison. Cerys said, "They don't want us here, you know. Been treating us like dirt since we got here, even accused one of the other's from the South of murdering Father Lorgan."

Zorru added, "Yeah, sent a detective and making a fuss about it at the temple so they can have more reason to throw us out. If they made the same fuss about helping us, then they'd get the real criminals instead."

Tav nodded sympathetically, and they informed her that Alfira and Lakrissa, Rolan and his siblings as well as Dammon secured sponsorship.

"Alfira is headed for the Elf Song, Dammon's working somewhere in Stonyeyes and Rolan went to Ramazith's Tower."

Bex bounded on her toes and clasped her hands together. "Isn't it exciting!"

Tav agreed brightly, "That's wonderful! I'm sure you'll get your chance too."

They beamed at her, and they eagerly answered all of Tav's questions about the latest news in the city. Tav inquired about the reported 'crime wave' that the passes were meant to curb.

Zorru said, "The gangs are causing trouble.", and Cerys added, "At least they are too busy killing each other and leaving us alone."

"Any specifics?"

Zorru scrunched his nose. "Something about a new 'Stonelord muscling in on The Guild's territories'."

"Big fight on the beach between the (Rivington) Rats and the Stonelord's. More guards patrolling to the river and back that day than I've seen in the whole time since we arrived."

The conversation waned eventually after they updated Tav on the Upper Cities' closure due to all the 'unrest' in the Lower and Outer cities.

Nyx asked, pointing at the notice board's warnings, "I assume this is related to those posters. What is this about 'armies at our doorstep'?"

"Word is, the Moonrise army had split, and the other half is attacking supplies on the Trade Route."

Tav's eyebrows knit. "The one to the northwest of the city? At Blackgate?"

"That one. As if it weren't hard enough for everyone already. There's talk of rations!"

Nyx puffed out her cheeks.

Baldur's Gate has multiple fires burning at once. The Lord of Strife's Chosen has been busy.

An uneasy tightness settled in Nyx's stomach.

Which begs the question: What has Bhaal's Chosen been up to?

---

Halsin had returned, and bear hugs were exchanged with the tieflings. He reported, "I was surprised at how well the rats and pigeons know this area. I simply mentioned Jaheira's name, and they knew of whom I spoke. They've agreed to pass our message along, but ate quite a lot of the incentives, I'm afraid."

Tav laughed, "They could have eaten all of it, and it would still be a bargain. I would have paid dearly for such services rendered by people."

The rest of their party returned with triumphant news of securing a campsite near one of the farms on the hill overlooking the temple and river. Wyll and Gale puffed out their chests at recounting how they had haggled the price of rent down by highlighting to the owner of the farm that their group’s mere presence would be a deterrent to troublemakers and squatters. Tav's group settled outstanding rent payments between themselves and headed there for proper setup.

Camp was a collection of open outhouses and sheds. Some in need of desperate repairs, crumbling away under age and neglect, but it would hold up for the time they'll be spending there. It was a beautiful location nonetheless - away from the bustle, yet close enough for them to reach the rest of Rivington within a few minutes.

Halsin released Bean from his dog disguise and, along with Scratch, they took up residence in the spacious, and fortunately abandoned, chicken run. Its large open coop was an ideal dry and warm sleeping quarters. The non-animal companions set up their own tents per usual and organised logs for seating around a campfire in the middle of the buildings. By the time they'd finished; the sun had turned orange. Tav declared their hard work done for the day, suggesting a spot of sight-seeing and dinner at the Circus.

Much to everyone's disappointment, especially Karlach's , the Circus of Last Day's tickets had been sold out. The city guard at the entrance informed them that the circus was no longer holding performances at night due to the increase in cutpurses and pickpockets. However, the circus will be in town for some time, so their group can return for entertainment during daylight hours.

Gale stroked his beard and peered at the sky. "We have plenty of Aileen's cooking left, and it's a lovely night for stargazing again." Thus, they returned to camp.

---

A group of dark silhouettes greeted them at the entrance to the farmstead. Nyx assumed it was the farmers, but the closer they drew, the clearer it became that these people carried weapons. An elderly woman was sitting on a rock, and two hardened warriors flanked her, dressed in leather, fur and steel. The seated woman kept her eyes closed as Tav's group neared, and Nyx made out a prayer spilling from her lips in an uncommon tongue. Cold recognition seeped through Nyx.

Gur. Shit.

The man on the right spoke, contempt in his voice. "Here they are, chief. The quarry Grendel pursued, but never brought back." His eyes locked on Astarion and narrowed.

Astarion sputtered in a high pitch, "Oh - eh, hello again?"

The woman on the left accused, "We take it you killed Grendel?"

Astarion tensed beside Nyx, and his hands resting on his daggers. Only Astarion and Nyx knew of Grendel's demise.

Nyx said without emotion, "Grendel made a deal with a hag."

The Gur's eyes flashed briefly. Nyx shared a cautious glance with Tav, and Tav made her 'I got this face'. Nyx inclined her head.

Good, we don't need anyone doing anything rash.

Tav straightened and declared, "The last time I saw him, he was giving us directions to get out of said hag's swamp, yes."

The woman placed a finger on her lips. "Hmm. Could easily have been his last."

Her companion crossed his arms and huffed. "We have orders not to do anything. But Ulma wants to speak to you. We are already preparing to honour our fallen brothers and sisters. Now including Grendel."

Ulma had not said a word. Unnerved by her prayers, Astarion said, "I feel we're intruding. We should leave and return later."

Before he could turn to go, Ulma stopped and slowly lifted her head. She regarded Astarion and stated, "Our erstwhile quarry."

Tav's companions were keeping a keen eye on the change in the Gur's stances.

Ulma lifted a placating hand. "Calm yourselves - we do not wish to harm anyone." And said onto Astarion, "I've called off your hunt. So, the impossible spawn walks among us in the blazing sun. I had to see it for myself."

Nyx asked, "If you're not here to claim him, then why come?"

Her gaze turned sharp, and she pointed. "The last time your friend came to our camp, he stole our children. Our future."

There were a few gasps and disbelieving glances. Nyx's own eyes widened for a moment. The Gur waited for them to appreciate the gravity of the situation.

The younger woman elaborated, "Grendel was meant to capture you and bring you back to our camp.", and her companion added, "To interrogate you, discover how to save our children, and then destroy you."

Nyx grimaced at the choice of words, Astarion fidgeting with the hilt of his daggers.

Ulma shrugged and mused, "But things have changed. You're clearly different from the usual vampire spawn. Is it true you left your master? Broke the spell that binds you to him? How did you do this?"

Astarion jutted out his hip and flourished a hand trying to explain, "Well, I, uh, mean... kind of? It's a long story, honestly.", a nervous laugh escaping him.

Tav said, "Yes, Astarion's free now."

The old Gur's eyebrows rose into her greying hairline. "Free? Perhaps from the compelling, but not from his master while he still lives." She gestured with an open hand to Astarion. "Spawn, I offer you a trade for your life."

He blinked at her, but said nothing.

Ulma continued, "We have tried to save our children once already, assaulting the Szarr estate at first light. But even without his spawns and the Gravemakers, it was too well defended." She shook her head, anguish on her face, and she implored, "But if his own spawn approached? Someone he thought he could control again? He would throw his doors open and welcome you in. And once inside, you could do what we could not. You could save the children you damned."

Astarion's expression became grave. "You don't know Cazador like I do - he's merciless. You want me to march into the lion's den and save your children? I promise you, they're already dead."

Tav took a sharp breath and asked, "How can you be sure, Astarion?"

He fixed her an incredulous look. "I spent two hundred years bringing him victims. Each and every one was whisked away to be fed on that night."

A round of sneers marred the rest of their companions' faces, remarks of concern and disgust.

Ulma leaned forward. "But you never saw him feed yourself? He could keep prisoners for days before killing them."

The younger woman added, "Please. I know our plight is grim, but if there is even a chance to save our children, we must take it."

Ulma nodded in concession. "If our children are truly gone, then we ask for blood. I know you can understand that, spawn."

Tav gestured between Ulma and Astarion. "If nothing else, Astarion, you can include their deaths as part of your revenge. You owe them at least that as a debt to be paid."

Astarion seemed to want to argue, thought better of it and conceded, "I suppose... Yes. Yes, revenge I can do."

Ulma tapped her knee as though that settled it. "A trade we will honour."

Tav put in, "If there is anything we can do otherwise for your children. We will."

Relief flooded Nyx while Ulma said onto Tav, "Thank you, from me and all my people.", then to Astarion, "You have lived a life of violence and sin. You have stolen lives, broken families, and caused immeasurable grief. Doing this will not right those wrongs."

Astarion scowled. "If you're trying to encourage me, you're failing abysmally."

She shrugged again. "But it will be a start. It would be the first time I witness a spawn redeem themselves when given a chance to do so. I'd want to see such a thing happen."

The man said while glaring at Astarion, "We will be keeping an ear to the ground.", and the younger woman added, "We'll know when you've honoured your side of the deal."

Ulma rose, and the three Gur saw themselves back to Rivington.

"Honestly, Astarion, children?" Shadowheart's head snapped around, her ponytail lashing like a whip.

Nyx narrowed her eyes at Shadowheart. "Hypocritical of you, don't you think? Considering the choices you made willingly back at the Gauntlet." Nyx vividly recalled the image of Shadowheart driving her dagger into the smaller figure during the trials.

Shadowheart drew herself up and waved a dismissive hand. "That, wasn't real."

Is that what you kept telling yourself? Nyx's analysing gaze made Shadowheart avert hers.

More disapproval permeated the air.

Gale said, "Children are supposed to be left alone, not made into bargaining pieces."

Wyll and Halsin nodded. Lae'zel's expression was unreadable, but Tav's brow was creased in thought.

Wyll voiced his opinion on the matter. "There is always a choice. I'm sure there was an alternative to handing over children to a vampire lord."

Astarion spoke softly, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Once, in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy whom I couldn't bear to bring back to him." He looked everywhere else except at his companions, the grip on his daggers tightened, and his voice becoming gravely with restrained emotion. "So I ran instead of hurting that sweet man. After Cazador caught me, the bastard... sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year." His gaze met Nyx's, and his voice gained strength as though he were only speaking to her. "A year of silence. Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out. More months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death." Finally, he made eye contact with each of the others in turn and sneered, "So don't you ever judge me for doing what Cazador ordered. Nothing can make up for that. Not even Cazador's death."

He was met with stunned silence, then he turned smoothly on his heel and stalked away.

Nyx took a moment for herself and closed her eyes.

Graces.

With a knot in her stomach and her heart aching, she ignored the ruffling sounds of nervous movement around her. She focused instead on the distant calls of the nocturnal insects and animals in the surrounding woodlands.

Upon opening her eyes, she was met with various expressions, none of which she was interested in deciphering. What she needed was space and time, and assumed that Astarion would need the same. She let out a perturbed breath and ran her hand over her face. Tracking gazes followed her as headed for her tent to collect her staff. She had been meaning to do a grounding meditation for a while.

Then sort out my a few things with myself.

Later after a quiet dinner and more reflection, she left camp to find Astarion.

This was a good break from the usual pacing and chapter composition that I've been writing so far. I like the change up and I'm sure it'll add more variety to Act 3 too.

Introduced a fair bit of worldbuilding and colloquialisms here, but most of it is known from BG3 so I think we're alright.

Let me know what you think.