docisback

So I opened up my submission box. Feel free to ask about anything (can be Baldur’s Gate adjacent or anything you want to know) and I’ll try to get back to you on here!

“But I was their enemy. I was the princess of Shar, the daughter of a goddess who slaughtered their children. You've... You've chosen the wrong messenger. H-how can I even speak to these people?”

~~~

A little piece of something I’m writing. Self-serving fanfiction never hurt anyone, after all. I hope you all enjoy and be sure to alert me of any spelling errors lol

~~~

A faith-shattered Cleric of Shar and son of the God of Murder cross the Basilisk Gate, their fates intertwined with those of every Baldurian. An unending menagerie of horrors from this world and beyond brood with the knowledge that soon, they will finally have the opportunity to enact unspeakable violence on every living creature in this city.

Yet, amidst the looming chaos and present danger to their lives, a frost-haired paladin torn between bloodline and oath and a verdant-eyed cleric whose crumbling conviction tests the limits of her perseverance find themselves before an altar, itself tucked neatly in the corner of a bustling church.

“Welcome, welcome, the Stormshore Tabernacle opens itself to the faithful and faithless alike,” a priest calls to the pair from the side street, ushering them in and offering entrance to the adjacent temple.

“I could not but help notice an, aura, emanating from your person,” the priest says, gesturing to the larger-than-life paladin, whose battle-tested armor bears but the slightest glow of some deity’s presence.

Fearing the worst, that a simple priest could’ve not only identified the ravenous, homicidal presence lurking within himself, the man goes to turn away. Though he had attempted to embrace Selûne and her power through his Oath of Devotion to the goddess, his fear of his father’s wrath placed along a very precarious tightrope. Every urge within himself, both good and malfeasant, sought to leave posthaste, if not for a mysterious feeling to plant his feet into the dirt and pivot to face the seemingly miniaturized man in clerical robes.

“What do you mean, saer?” The paladin asks.

“Why, it was only apparent to me through my that I felt a familiar, well, feeling as you walked past. Are you sworn to a particular deity young man?”

Knowing the truth deep within himself, that it was Bhaal who had laid claim over his mind and body, the paladin’s unease had begun to grow and mature.

It was this unease that that his companion, a fellow half-elf with a wider knowledge on the gods of the realm, also sensed.

“He’s simply been recently blessed, I’m afraid,” the cleric spoke up. “We made a pass through the Open Hand Temple only earlier this morning, and are eager find ourselves some lodging after a long day’s trek through the city.”

Shifting to continue their journey on foot, the cleric almost pushes the paladin down the road, deeper into the city, when the priest speaks up once more.

“I see, and which particular god’s favor were you seeking?”

Shadowheart’s training in the cloister, specifically her ability to lie so easily, had its advantages, but backing up a lie proved rather difficult in this singular instance.

“S-“ the cleric bits her tongue, habitual mental reminders of her loyalty to Lady Shar almost slipped through her mouth. She pauses, recovering her speech to address the priest.

“Selûne, our Lady of Silver,” she spits out. Although her resolve in Shar had been broken, she had not quite accepted her sister, and was hesitant to put her faith in anyone but herself.

Well, anyone but herself and her paladin companion.

“Ah, I had thought so, the Moonmaiden’s resplendent light shines brightly even as we approach midday it seems,” the priest says.

The paladin and cleric have no idea what he is talking about, but maybe a hint of Selûne’s light dusted off onto the pair after having her daughter, Aylin, so close by as of late.

“You must come inside, I beg of you, for an offering to Selûne will assist you once more as you continue your journey,” the priest says. “Please, I insist.”

Choosing rather to rip the metaphorical bandage off and be on their way as soon as possible, the recalling companions begrudgingly step inside the tabernacle, and after a brief scan, locate the Sulûnite shrine off to their left.

“I shall leave you to your prayers and offerings, feel free to ask any questions you may have,” the priest says before turning to exit the church once more, presumably, to lure more unsuspecting travelers inside to haggle them for tithes and offerings.

“We can leave as soon as you’re ready,” the paladin says. “I’m sure Selûne, despite my oath, would not mind us leaving to continue our errands.”

“Just a moment,” the cleric responded. “I… I have something I have to ask.”

“I’m an open book, what would you like to know?”

“Apologies, not from you, I mean,” the cleric says, glancing past the hulking suit of armor and eyeing the stone statue of the Moonmaiden.

“Ah,” the paladin says. “Please, take your time. I’ll be right here with you.”

Shadowheart steps forward, with every inch closer she creeps to the statue, a tangible power, no, presence becomes more apparent.

She finally finds herself with her hands against the cold stone slab, a parchment scroll rolled neatly upon it, with inscriptions describing the nature of the goddess’s blessings.

A note, seemingly scribbled by one of her patrons, lies unfolded upon the alter. “Let those who are lost seek the Lady of Silver’s light for guidance,” it reads.

“Guidance, huh,” the cleric scoffs.

She take a moment. Then another. She looks the statue up and down. She looks at the others inside the church. A mother and her young son, who tugs at her skirt amid cries of boredom as the woman converses with a priest.

She glances out a nearby window, seeing a bird building a nest, while a second bird, perhaps a mate, brings a stick to add to the fledgling abode.

She glances back at the paladin, who offers a half-smile of reassurance. Her heart flutters ever slightly, and she cranes her head back up at the statue of Selûne once again.

“I’m sure you know of me by now, and I’m grateful, if that’s even the word, for not smiting this former Sharran the moment I approached your statue.

She almost chuckles to herself. Almost. She continues on.

“I’m not sure if I have any faith let in me, but…” she trails off.

She grapples with her thoughts and emotions. Her anger at Shar and Mother Superior. For lying to her, abusing her, keeping her parents tucked away all while she was their obedient servant. Her fear of the unknown and their present threat of the Absolute. Her contentedness she feels around the campfire she feels as Gale attempts a joke, or while Wyll waxes on about poetry, or while Astarion or Lae’zel threaten to silence the young Ravengard by force.

She feels the sorrow of a life lost, but also, the hope for a life yet to be held. The love of her paladin companion, and the love he holds for her. She looks back at him, sneaking a glance while he stares off into the distance.

“I know I’ve hurt people,” she says. “You’re people, most likely, but probably other people too. I’m probably not the person you would’ve expected to stop here, but I wanted to… talk.”

She takes another moment to gather her thoughts. The last time she spoke to a god was after sparing Aylin’s life. She still feels the burning scourge of Shar’s wrath from when she attempted to leave the Shadowfell.

“I’m sorry, for calling you a Moon bitch,” she lets out. “And… for the things I said of your abandoned temple all those weeks ago, although I hope our slaying of the goblins occupying it at the time made up for it somehow.”

She realizes she’s probably gone on long enough. Shar would expect, no, demand her to get to the point immediately, but she imagines Selûne is more forgiving.

“But I just want to ask you, to protect him,” she finally mutters under her breath, hoping the paladin is just out of earshot. “Watch over him. Guide him from danger and help him against his father, and maybe, when this is all over, when I’ve found my parents, when this tadpole is out of my head, I’ll come back here, and we can talk more. I promise.”

When she’d pray to Shar for guidance, she felt nothing in response. Just the cold absence she’d grown accustomed to back in her cloister. Her mind was suddenly assaulted by a lost memory, one likely decades old. She’s younger, not quite a child, but not yet an adult. She’s tucked away in a dark corner. The painful contorting of her face as tears slipped and streamed down her face. She couldn’t remember why she was crying. She never really was sure why she cried so often, only that she did.

She was equally unsure as what to expect from her brief prayer to Selûne, but as she unclasped her fingers and lifted her hands from the altar, she could almost feel a light hum, as if in acknowledgment.

“Does that mean you can hear me?” Shadowheart asks herself silently.

Just then, she feels movement behind her. She quickly reaches for her holstered blade she kept neatly along her waist. It makes only a brief slide out of its sheathe when a hand grabs her forearm, stopping her from wielding the thin blade to its fullest extent.

Her eyes finally catch up to her hand’s excitement, but instead of a threat, she catches the paladin, her paladin, at near eye level. Slight hunched over as to be able to reach for her dagger, he’s brought himself only a few inches in front of her face. Their eyes catch, they linger for just a moment.

Green eyes angle slightly upward, gazing directly into the soft bluish-grey ones belonging to the paladin. The cleric’s furrowed brow tenses, then relaxes. Her grip on the knife’s hilt falters as she lets out an exhaustive breath.

“It’s ok, it’s just me,” he says. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I was only trying to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Promise?”

“Unlike yourself, I’m not the oathmaking type.”

“Fair point.”

Shadowheart ensures her belongings are tucked away, and takes another look at the altar before turning to leave. As she looks up at the paladin, she extends her hand to him. He takes it, but glances at her with a puzzled look.

“What’s this for?” he asks.

“Nothing, just wanted to say thank you for stopping in with me,” she says with a slight smile on her face.

As she smiles up at him, she feels that small hum once again. She realizes it isn’t coming from the altar, but rather from the paladin himself. Standing inside, shielded from the intense sunlight, she even notices a silvery glow coming from his skin and armor.

“Do you think Selûne approves of… this?”

“You mean us?”

“I mean, you are her devoted knight,” she says. “The sword-arm of the Lady of Silver, and I’m just her rival sister’s latest reject. I may not be an enemy, but still…”

“I think Selûne knows your situation, but if you’re asking me personally, I think it wouldn’t be a stretch to say she’s rather fond of us, you in particular.”

“What makes you say that?”

The paladin looks her up and down, then smirks.

“Give me a moment,” he says.

Immediately, he goes to the altar and kneels. After a few minutes, he finally rises and turns back to face the cleric.

“I think Selûne has something she wants to show you.”

———

The pair take off, snaking through streets and alleys, gliding through shops, stalls and citizenry as they make their way to the shoreline. The days events and other errands spanned hours, and now the sun has just begun to dip into the horizon.

“We’ve gone far enough, where are you taking me?” the cleric demanded.

“It’s just up ahead,” he responds. “I saw it as we arrived into the Lower City. I don’t know quite how to explain it, but I felt it calling to me then, and even more once we left the tabernacle.”

A few minutes of walking more and finally the paladin stops before an old watchtower, its stone foundation cracked and timber beams splintered. It almost seemed a miracle unto itself it still stood, but no Flaming Fist can be seen manning it, so perhaps its relative unimportance to city defense could explain the neglect.

“You dragged me all the way out here to gawk at an old tower?” Shadowheart asks.

“Not just any old tower, this old thing used to scan the sword coast for pirate raids back when the city was in its infancy,” the paladin said.

“I never took you for a Baldurian historian,” she retorts.

“Well I may have embellished it slightly, but what else could a single watch tower on the beach be used for?”

An audible groan escapes the cleric’s mouth as she finds a sandless spot to sit in. The little granules of sand always find ways to creep into her armor. She still remembers after their escape from the nautiloid being woken by the paladin on the beach. It took her days to finally knock all the said out of her chainmail and plate armor.

“So what are we here for then?”

“I think we need to wait for nightfall.”

“Surely we must return to our camp”

The paladin stops, looks down at the sand, then up again at the sky before locking eyes with the cleric once more.

“We need to wait for the sun to set, Shadowheart.”

Another groan from the cleric sounds.

“Fine, but you owe me dinner, and not any of Gale’s cooking.”

A short hour later, if even, and darkness had enveloped the coast.

As if waiting for the curtain of sunlight to fall and the orchestra to announce her arrival, the moon finally shines brilliantly. Of course, it had still been there in the waning hours of daylight. Shadowheart had noticed it along their walk, and felt like it was staring down at her the entire time it took for them to walk to the beach.

“Is it alright if I pray for a moment?” the paladin asks.

“You don’t need to ask me to fulfill the vows of your Oath, you know,” she says back. “Just make it quick I’m starving.”

The paladin kneels into the sand, burying his poleyns into the sand as he clasped his gauntleted hands together. A moment passes, then another. The cleric gets a feeling she should join the man in the sand, as much as she would rather not.

Eventually, after briefly grappling with her inner turmoil, she relents to herself and joins the paladin in prayer. She doesn’t say anything, but just sits silently and bows her head in reverence.

“Is something supposed to be happening?” she asks after she believes enough time has passed.

“Not exactly, but it doesn’t hurt to enjoy a moment of peace after all.”

She sits there a moment longer, she thinks of how the time spent along the shore could be better spent searching for her parents, or finding ways to defeat the Dark Urge within the paladin, but she does not want to rush her companion.

Suddenly, the paladin collapses onto the sand. He begins to convulse just as Shadowheart begins to reach for him. Simultaneously, the cleric’s wound flares up in a brilliant purple flash. Both of their gods seem to be punishing them for attempting to seek a release elsewhere as the cleric grips her hand tightly. Pain envelops her entire body. Her mind immediately falls to the darkest places. She imagines her paladin succumbing to his bloody compulsions. She fears at any moment, while she lay writhing in pain, he could turn on her and indulge in her crimson gore. Surely he wouldn’t, not after everything, would he?

The paladin, feeling his consciousness ebb as the Dark Urge within himself flows forward, looks at his cleric companion. He feels remorse. He knows what is happening. It happened before, that night at the campfire shortly after defeating Ketheric Thorm. His failure to his father regains Isobel had not gone unnoticed, and the patron god of murder sought recompense in the form of another cleric, his lover, Shadowheart.

Then, he had only a moment to wake the sleeping cleric and warn her, urging her to tie him down and allow him to ride out the dangerous impulses that consumed his flesh and mind. Once the darkness had slipped away, and his sanity returned, they spoke of the future. He promised her to do everything possible to rid himself of the curse, and made her promise to end him if it came to it.

He made her promise, no matter how difficult, to put him down to protect herself. Surely she sees now that Bhall’s power had finally overwhelmed him. There’s was no warning this time. There was no time, no safety net. This was it.

He is afraid to die. He is even more afraid have put thee cleric into this position. But even as she herself grapples with the torment wrought by her own deity, he can see her fighting her own urge to give in. He sees her try with all her might to reach out to him to help him in some way.

No, wishful thinking. Surely she must be trying to drag herself closer to plunge a dagger into his chest. To rip out his malformed heart and put an end to the blood of Bhaal for good. But still, he lays there on the ground, still convulsing, still afraid. He wants to live, not only out of selfish desire, but also to be there for anything she could desire. Surely she wouldn’t, not after everything, would she?

Finally, as the torturous experience reached its violent crescendo, a bright flash envelops the two lost souls on the beach. As if on cue, the paladin’s bloodlust and cleric’s distress end in an instant. The pair lock eyes, and then gaze at the source of the brilliant light, and find it coming from the moon itself.

Despite all odds, the lunar blessing had briefly cast off the pair’s shackles. The paladin is the first to break the silence.

“Are you alright?” he asks the cleric, between ragged breaths. “I… felt Bhaal’s power coursing through my veins. He called upon my to take up his mantle once more and… I was afraid I would’ve been unable to stop it.”

Shadowheart looks at the large man now lying prostrate on the beach, drippings of sweat forming on his brow and an exhaustive weakness ever present on his face.

“I’m… alright, I think,” she says. The pain is gone, albeit I’m still a bit numb. What just happened?”

“I don’t know,” the paladin responds. “I was praying for… well, it’s not important. But let’s just say I was asking for some protection when the Urge overcame me. It seems like Bhaal, and evidently Shar too, were trying to nip any possible preventative protection in the bud before they lost an ounce of control over the two of us.”

“You were asking for protection, from Shar?”

Shadowheart can feel the puzzled look on her own face as she asks the question.

“Why would he need protection from Shar? she asks herself “He’s already sworn himself to the Moonmaiden. If anyone between the two of us needed to be protected from her it’d be…”

“You weren’t asking Selûne to protect you, were you?” she says, finally piecing it together.

“I mean, I was asking for myself. Hoping perhaps she could shield me from some of Bhaal’s influence,” he says. “But yes, I was also asking her to help you, too.”

She’s almost flattered, but flattery gives way to embarrassment. She remembers her own prayer only earlier that day, when she had asked Selûne to protect the man now laying before her.

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but I can take care of myself you know.”

“I know you can, but it doesn’t hurt to ask for a little help from a friend.”

“Selûne and I aren’t exactly friends you know.”

“You did spare her daughter’s life,” the paladin says. “Maybe she’s getting even with you?”

“You think the gods care enough about us mortals to stoop as low as to intervene in such a small, petty way?”

She sees the paladin’s neutral face slowly drop into a subtle frown, and sees his eyes lock onto the wound on her hand. Touché.

“Point taken,” the cleric says.

After a moment of silence, the two just stare at one another, taking in each other’s bodies in the pale moonlight. The paladin takes the first step forward, then another, and another until he’s now right in front of Shadowheart. He has a full head on her at least, but somehow the size difference between them shrinks even more as she pulls his hands toward her, then grabs his neck to pull down the face of the man she loves so much.

Stopping just before their lips collide into one another, Shadowheart lets out a shallow breath and looks down at their boots in the sand.

She looks back up and the near-full moon resting omnipotently in the sky above, its reflection shimmering along the waves that crash into the shoreline. She wonder why a god she had been sworn enemies with only weeks prior had offered her a hand in friendship. Perhaps the paladin’s explanation, as payback for not murdering Aylin, made the most sense. But then again, gods had always been fickle in that way.

Maybe it’s best she not question the goodwill of a stranger this one time.

She looks back up at the paladin, her paladin, and as cliché as it is, her knight in shining armor, and smiles.

“Well, considering you’re on better speaking terms with your goddess than I, could you give me my thanks?”

“I’m sure she knows,” the paladin chuckles.

“Well, im glad for her answering my prayer, at least,” Shadowheart says.

“Your prayer?”

The cleric realizes her words only after the paladin’s query.

“Oh… I meant, I was only saying—“

“Come on, spit it out,” the paladin demands with a knowing smile.

“Earlier, inside the Stormshore Tabernacle… I asked her to keep you safe, alright…” Shadowheart says, her words drifting off.

“You mean it?”

Shadowheart groans.

“Ugh, if you want me to repeat myself you’d have better luck asking Lae’zel to give The Emperor a kiss.”

“It’s just very sweet of you to do, Shadowheart,” he replies back. “Although please, don’t feel like you owe it to me to confer in my Lady of Silver, unless you’re willing that is.”

“I only do what I’m willing to do,” she says. “But, it felt nice, having a deity not make demands before offering my a gift, for once.”

“All she wants from you is for you to be happy, Shadowheart,” the paladin says.

Hands still intertwined, the cleric gazes up at her paladin.

“I already am.”

Man fuck this fuckass dork bro looks like this fucking cat I found on Google fuck him

Another Minthara Post

So basically this is another Minthara post but here are the others.

~~~~~~~~~

I’ve just gotten off a two-week binge of reading fanfiction of my big 3 companions (Shadowheart, Gale and Minthara) and I was inspired me to come in here and post about it.

But regarding Minthara, I feel drawn to her character not in an attraction sort of way but definitely in a “I must learn as much as I can about you” way. Like when a new kid would move to your school halfway through the year, and you and every other kid would hound them for more information about themselves, ad infinitum.

Anyway, enjoy some screenshots.

WHOOP THAT ASS AYLIN

I mean I did do most of the ass kicking and I did have to use Gale to Dimension Door you away after being downed a couple times so Shadowheart could heal you, but who’s counting?

🌙 🤍

Gale Dekarios

“Damn you for giving me so much to care about”

Previous Gale Post

Gale is just one of the guys, y’know?

I remember accidentally almost romancing him in Act 1 on my first ever play through simply because I just liked making him happy. He just always needs a hug and a friend and someone to help him get over his breakup lol.

In all seriousness though I love Gale. He’s human (literally and metaphorically speaking) and his qualities bring BG3 back down a step from the fantastical and magical universe of the Forgotten Realms. Even his magic and study thereof bring a certain quality to his character. He works hard, he studies hard, he loves hard. Gale is as determined to prove himself to others as he is to live for himself.

His fault is one I can relate to in many ways. He took a step too far, partly out of love for Mystra, but also a half-selfish, half-curious drive for power and knowledge.

Gale didn’t tamper with the Orb to rule the world, he wanted to gain the knowledge within it and to impress his lover, but in doing so, he lost his power and Mystra’s favor. Like Icarus, Gale flew too close to the sun.

When we find Gale at his lowest point, he doesn’t give up and wander off to find some barren place he can explode in peace, he trusts us enough to (eventually) tell us of his condition and find a way through. Ultimately, even though Gale is directed by Mystra to sacrifice himself to end the Absolute, and in turn redeem himself in Mystra’s eyes, he knows doing so would disappoint his friends more than it could relieve him of his burden to his goddess.

He doesn’t want to die, despite it being the most direct way to solve everyone’s problems, but he would do it to spare everyone else of his immediate problem. If you push Gale enough to see reason, and to find another path, he’ll trust you. Not only with his life, but with the fate of the world.

Gale, at his core, is a man who made a mistake. One he would take back if he had the power too, but also a mistake he knows he must find some way to atone for. Gale is also a man who, no matter how hard it gets, won’t give up, either on himself or for his friends/family.

Gale’s just a good guy. I’d be proud to call him my friend.

.

.

.

.

.

*You feel her mind reaching out to yours, tentative and curious. Then it retreats, soft as a whisper*

“Show me myself through your eyes — let me see what I am to you.”

~~~~~

RE: My other post about Minthara, I wanted to add more to it without just commenting or editing the other post.

Minthara is, objectively, not a good person.

HOWEVER

There are certainly layers to being “not a good person” in Faerûn, especially when the grading scale goes from Really Good™️ (I.e. Harpers, Order of the Gauntlet) to Really Bad (literally the Absolute, Ketheric Thorm, Dark Justiciars, Orin the Red, the list goes on really)

Minthara, although certainly nowhere near the paragon of evil displayed by the Dead Three’s in-game followers, is still considered to be your less -than-ideal person in terms of goodness.

There’s a few reasons, one of the main being she is a Drow, and not just any Drow, but a Baenre. I’m sure if she never went looking for the Absolute she would’ve stayed in Menzoberranzan, plotted against her mother or other houses, and feasted on the eyes of surface dwellers for centuries to come.

But the thing is, she didn’t. She felt compelled, out of honor for herself and House Baenre, and also out of a sense of retribution for a perceived offense from this so-called “Absolute,” and sought out Moonrise Towers. In doing so, Minthara found herself on the other end of a blade. Not for the first time in her life, but for once she was an honest victim of evil and not the assailant or a participant in inter-societal fratricide (sororicide?).

Despite being among the Absolute’s thrall, there was a small chunk of Minthara’s soul screaming out from the inside. Begging for the torment to stop, pleading for a release from her servitude, either through breaking free of bondage or death.

When you find her in Moonrise’s dungeon, Minthara is ready for whatever comes. She has embraced her looming death, and fully expects the player character to be the one to finish her off.

After a lifetime of service and killing in service to other gods, Minthara prepared for a painful and undignified end, with her mind wiped clean and her body just a tool for perpetual servitude.

However, unlike her previous masters, you, the player, give her a chance.

A chance to fight for herself and her own survival after years of being controlled. A chance at revenge and maybe, one day, returning home.

Minthara, raised in the bowels of the Underdark, has always been a selfish person. You need to be in a society like Menzoberranzan, where anyone could be holding a dagger meant for you behind their back. It was selfishness that kept her alive for so long. Minthara isn’t selfish because she directly hates everyone who isn’t her, it’s because deep down she knows that she is the only one she can trust. For once, after years under Lolth and the Absolute, her mind is her own, and she plans on using it for herself.

I don’t blame Minthara one bit for being selfish and guarded. She has been abused and controlled and taken advantage of at every step of her life. She is (assuming here bc no concrete source) century old at least and is finally free, and similar to Lae’zel, she is trapped in a foreign land with “weirdos” who know next to nothing about her or her situation.

I do not blame Minthara for her actions, and I do not blame her for whatever she did while under the influence of the Absolute. She did what she had to in order to survive, and if I were trapped in a world where everyone’s immediate perception of me is “evil Drow murderer” I would also be a little thorny to those around me.

Like I said Minthara is a bad person, not out of malice, but out of security. Minthara doesn’t want to rule the world to ascend to godhood or out of greed, she wants to rule because if she comes out on top, it puts as much distance as possible between her and anyone who would hurt her again.

Minthara wants to be safe. She wants to be free and she wants to be feared, but also loved, authentically. When she asks you to use the tadpole and show her what you see, she despises being labeled a monster, and is disappointed to be considered only an ally or a friend. She sees the player character as an equal and is overcoming her prejudice against non-Drow in doing so. She sees you as beautiful, tadpoled or otherwise, and wants more. If romanced, she’ll even forego her dream of returning to the Underdark and stay with you in Baldur’s Gate.

A moment without Shar, without the Absolute, without the world.

After a long day of traveling (hour-and-a-half drive) I now imagine how the BG3 companions felt after marching through endless wilderness.

Astarion: Playlist Setter

If he has to be dragged across the country as part of Gale’s scheme then he’s at least going to enjoy it his way, with his music. Don’t touch the radio unless he’s asleep, in which case try not to wake him up.

Gale: Trip Planner

This entire expedition was his idea. Who else would come up with visiting every city along the Sword Coast in two weeks. If anything goes wrong it falls on his lap, but don’t interfere with his itinerary or risk falling behind. You won’t like grump Gale.

Halsin: The “Get Out And Stretch Your Legs” Guy

Every three hours along the road the Archdruid suggests a stop to get out and stretch. This greatly impacts Gale’s plan for the day. Usually the group will ignore the request but every once in a while Halsin needs to find a stop to pee (usually in bear form, don’t ask why).

Jaheira: Group Mother

Despite mainly joining the traveling group to get out of Baldur’s Gate for a couple weeks, Jaheira finds just as much responsibility on the road as she does at home. To make up for it, she has taken the front seat beside Minsc for the duration of the trip. Between tending to the group’s needs and managing the snack inventory, Jaheira takes every opportunity she can get to take a rest, often coupling with Lae’zel’s need for a moment of peace.

Karlach: Uncontainable Excitement

This is her first road trip with friends, and Karlach is making sure every, and I mean every, base is covered to ensure the maximum amount of fun. Looking up roadside attractions, pestering Minsc with “are we there yet?” every few hours and often being the one to beg and plead for a certain song to be played are all high on her to-do list.

Lae’zel: Quiet Time Enforcer

Sometimes you just forget everything else and feel the open road, just getting lost in a trance as your eyes scan the endless horizon. Other times Lae’zel has a headache from Astarion’s music selection and Karlach’s “are we there yet?” comments and you don’t have a choice but to play the Quiet Game until she’s had her proper nap.

Minsc: Driver

Choosing to sit up front with Jaheira (and being the only one willing to drive) has its benefits, and Minsc will stop by and see very interesting thing they come across, much to Gale’s chagrin. On the bright side, this gives everyone else a break from wondering if Boo is sneaking through the car seats, especially when he sits right up front under the windshield.

Minthara: Motion Sickness Princess

Preferring to ignore her companions and the endless outdoors, Minthara chooses to select a book she has been meaning to finish for her on-the-road entertainment. This however, has its drawbacks, as endlessly focusing on a page while the bumps in the road jostle you around give her a bout of motion sickness. Jaheira and Shadowheart do their best as far as treating the sickness as they can, but Minthara often finds herself agreeing with Halsin’s stop requests just so she can stop moving for a brief moment.

Shadowheart: Road Trip Scrapbooker

Every once in a while a camera flash goes off or a receipt goes missing, and you can be sure that Shadowheart is working hard to make sure no one forgets their trip. Page upon page of the scrapbook shows off her diligent work cataloguing and recording every fun memory the group has from destination to destination.

Wyll: Snack Acquirer

I finally finished Hamnet (the 2025 movie) and thought “what the hell, why not.” Enjoy my special interest.

———

Astarion: Claudius, King of Denmark

Would go super into the conniving and scheming part of the role but would also be a fan-favorite when the production goes on tour.

Gale: Horatio

Gale would definitely lean into his role as “witness” to most scenes of the play, using his sagely wisdom to charm the audience while also fitting in as being the only part of the main cast to survive the whole thing.

Halsin: Polonius, Advisor to Claudius

Owing to his background as leader of the Emerald Grove, Halsin would use his experience to shape his role as the king’s right hand. He would display a fatherly quality over his two children, Laertes and Ophelia, but would maintain a firmness to command the audience’s respect.

Jahiera: Gertrude, Queen of Denmark

Playing the mother of the titular character and love interest of the antagonist, Jahiera has a difficult role in which she must remain endearing to the crowd and yet enable the villain’s schemes. Jahiera would, as the kids say, commit to the bit and relish the opportunity to have some fun being the “bad guy,” in a way.

Karlach: Ophelia, Daughter of Polonius, Hamlet’s Lover

A deep-seated romantic and lover of Baldur’s Gate’s theatre scene since childhood, Karlach would jump for joy after being cast as the leading lady. Despite probably not knowing the full scale of the role initially, nevertheless, she would focus intently and commit to putting on a good show to inspire the next generation of Baldurian performers.

Lae’zel: Laertes, sibling of Ophelia and son of Polonius

Despite not having a penchant for drama, the githyanki would accept her role as Laertes under the condition Wyll not hold back during the two characters sword fight in the final act. In addition, Lae’zel also asked that Halsin (Polonius) refrain from excessive displays of affection while on stage.

Minthara: Guildenstern, Childhood Friend of Hamlet, King Claudius’ Spy, Rosencrantz’s Partner

The allure of Guildenstern’s secret role as a spy for King Claudius caught Minthara’s eye when she read over the script. Though the Drow normally would stay uninvolved in petty entertainment, the concepts of “deceit” and “lying” came naturally to her as she stepped into the role.

Minsc: Ghost of King Hamlet, Spectre of Prince Hamlet’s Father

Minsc, and Boo of course (pun fully intended), would probably have auditioned for one of the guards in the opening scene (Bernardo or Marcellus). Instead , he was cast as the Ghost as the director thought he could use his imposing figure to haunt the titular character and set him on the path of vengeance. He also agreed after realizing he could utilize Boo in his costume.

Shadowheart: Rosencrantz, Childhood Friend of Hamlet, King Claudius’ Spy, Guildenstern’s Partner

Despite hoping for possibly portraying Ophelia, Shadowheart was delighted when she discovered Minthara’s interest in being her on-stage partner. Though suffering from a limited bout of stagefright, Shadowheart was able to feed off of Minthara’s confidence when performing together.

Wyll: Prince Hamlet

A longtime patron of the arts, a fervent dramatist and skilled sword-bearer, Wyll was nothing short of born for the role of Hamlet. The trouble with his own father certainly helps him giving character too.

———

Honorable Mention

Tav/Dark Urge as Fortinbras, Prince of Norway

“Lady Shar… help me”

~~~Shadowheart Character Analysis~~~

So the post I made about Minthara did really well so I may do more of these and put my minor in Film and Media Studies to some use.

———

So, Shadowheart, aka Jenevelle Hallowleaf. Everyone’s favorite cleric, and God’s favorite princess.

So on my first playthrough I really tried to keep an open mind regarding all of the companions. I had never played Dungeons and Dragons (except for one time in college where I was functionally another characters squire/human backpack for a single session) and so I didn’t really understand any of the lore regarding realms, gods/goddesses, religion or the cultures of the Sword Coast. I only finally caved and bought BG3 when I had a fantasy RPG itch to scratch and nothing else seemed to be doing it.

Thank god I did tho holy hells.

So back to my first playthrough, I didn’t understand the big deal when Shadowheart admitted her faith and devotion to Shar. My first immediate thought to be completely honest was “well at least this god isn’t trying to kill us (for now).”

I figured since Selûne and Shar were sisters, there would be a rivalry of sorts akin to Zeus and other Olympians, but I didn’t quite expect all-out warfare between believers of opposing factions.

After finding the shrines to Selûne and later the Selûnite temple in Act 1, I figured since the Selûnite faith was so mundane that Shar couldn’t possibly be any different…

Boy, was I wrong, but I digress.

As I said, I tried to keep an open mind on my companions' beliefs and lives. When I learned of Gale’s, *ahem*, rather explosive dilemma, I sought to help him no matter the cost. When I discovered Karlach and Wyll's intertwined destiny, I figured I could assist in some way, despite not knowing much about the Hells. Even when I met Astarion and Lae’zel, who, despite their collective thorniness, were looking for an out to their respective situations, I knew I could do something and go along with whatever they needed.

However, as I learned more about Shadowheart, I only became more concerned. I realized she doesn’t just revere her goddess, she expects Shar to be her savior. She expects that her devotion and sacrifice will be rewarded with an ease to her suffering, an end to the pain, but pain is all Shar can provide to her faithful.

Shar does not take pain, loss or suffering AWAY from her followers; she expands it, and in turn, expects them to understand why. Shar does not want followers; she wants servants who will live and die and convert others to do the same, all for her grand scheme of destroying her sister and those who worship her. Shar has no endgame beyond that. If Selûne were to, for some reason, be able to be destroyed by the push of a button, and Shar along with it, Shar wouldn’t even hesitate to be the one to press it.

Which brings me back to Shadowheart, who, likewise, has no endgame.

I don’t mean it in the sense that she doesn’t know what to do when she returns to her cloister; I mean that without her memories of anything, she has nothing waiting for her. All she knows is upon her return, her memories will be granted back to her, only to be taken again pending her next assignment. All part of a self-destructive cycle of pain and loss to continually wear her down until she is just an empty shell, with her memories gone and her usefulness deteriorated, at which point Shar no longer needs her.

And that’s when it clicked for me.

CONTEXT: I had a very religious upbringing. I won’t go into details, but my life here on Earth was nothing more than my ability to live the faith and bring others into it. When I turned 18, I knew I had two choices: Continue the faith, spread the gospel as a missionary for two years in some place I didn’t get to choose, surrounded by people who don’t want me there, or go to college and start the rest of my life.

I knew if I left on a mission, I would be stuck in an endless cycle of faith and I would have to leave everything and everyone I knew behind and start over wherever I end up once it was over. No direct communication, no phone calls, and no distractions.

So, back to Shadowheart, the reason I grew concerned for the constitution of her character and well-being, rather than supportive of her choices, is because I saw pieces of myself buried under the surface of Shar’s desperate grasp on her soul.

I realized all the doubts she has about herself were the same doubts I had about myself. Am I good enough? Will I please my god? What will they think of me? Will my family accept me no matter what? Will they hate me? Why can’t I just be a good believer? Why can’t everything just make sense? Why don’t I feel loved? Are you there, God?

As the game progresses, we learn more about Shadowheart. She was just a girl. A girl with a family, all of whom are now Shar’s victims. She was broken down piece by piece, writing notes to herself just to try and help her remember who she was in case they ripped her memories out again. A girl who never knew a life outside the cold walls of Shar’s cloister under the house of grief, a girl who only knew love under conditions.

But in the words of Dame Aylin, “you are a woman now.”

Now, with the truth in hand, Shadowheart has something she’s never had before. A choice in what she wants to do.

Progressing your relationship with Shadowheart shows she is just as concerned with her family members imprisoned by Shar as with what could happen to her newest family, the player. She wants to free her parents just as much as she wants to be free to live her life with the one she loves, and you, as the player, can support that.

I helped Shadowheart through the Gauntlet of Shar. I knew this was setting her down a road that I couldn’t follow, but unlike Shar or Viconia, it would be fundamentally wrong to deny her a choice of her own after so many years of abuse and having her destiny be directed by someone else.

I think this is what makes Shadowheart’s ultimate choice in Act II, whether to spare or slay the Daughter of Selûne in the heart of the Shadowfell, the climax of her and the player’s decisions. Telling Shadowheart to make her own decision and promising to stand by her no matter what comes is the straw that breaks the camel's back. For once, Shadowheart understands that the choices she makes are her choices, and that no matter how many times her memories are suppressed, the consequences of her actions will linger forever. Shadowheart doesn’t want to be remembered as a killer. She doesn’t want to be a fierce Dark Justiciar, and she certainly doesn’t want the honor of leading Shar’s church. She just wants to have someone have her back for the first time in her life.

With my own personal religious trauma, seeing a character in fiction struggle with their self-worth and seeking out someone to understand them, not judge them, made me feel something that I can’t really say I’ve ever felt in a video game. Shadowheart wants to be loved in ways that can be interpreted as juvenile, but she never got to BE a juvenile. Her childhood was stolen from her, and after overcoming decades of arrested development because of it, she finds herself as an adult without a proper place in the world. She does things she thinks will make people love her. She follows the orders of Shar and Viconia because she hopes the pain of being unloved will go away when she obeys. When you, as the player, tell her you’ll love her (platonically or romantically) regardless of her actions and that no matter what she does, you won’t abandon her, she breaks down the wall she’s built up to protect herself.

In a single moment, there on an island floating in the Shadowfell, Shadowheart finally understands. She risks an eternity of torment at the hands of Shar by defying her and branding herself as an outcast, all for someone she barely met, who sees her for who she is. The player doesn’t help Shadowheart by telling them what they think the right thing to do is; the player helps Shadowheart by encouraging her to do the right thing for herself.

In summary: Shadowheart isn’t just your average fish out of water story. There are layers upon layers of trauma being inflicted on her. She’s doesn’t open up to you at first just because she respects you as the player, but because she also feels she has no choice or that some harm could befall her if she doesn’t come clean to the party about her Shar worship. She doesn’t expect compassion from who Shar views as infidels, but what she doesn’t know is that not everyone in the world would whip or scourge her because of who she is. There is an obvious shift in Shadowheart’s demeanor when she realizes that no matter who she is her party of friends would never betray her the way her adoptive family would.

To circle back one more time, specifically to the questions I used to ask myself:

“Are you there, God?”

Minthara Character Analysis:

I would never try to sway Minthara from her ambition, she deserves happiness (whatever that is, killing her mom? Probably) but I remain convinced the party and her time on the surface softened her just a little bit 🤏

She’s strong, determined, and most importantly passionate. You could easily judge her as selfish, but the brief glimpses of her mind you get in th game show her as someone who just wants the pain to end. The pain of heartbreak. The pain of being an outcast. The pain of being someone else’s tool, whether that be Lolth or the Absolute.

Call her selfish if you want, but she put aside all of her beliefs and preconceptions in trusting the player (assuming she didn’t die in Act 1), and doing so required more focus and selflessness than you could imagine for a Drow of House Baenre.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say Minthara loves anyone in the party, unless you romanced her, but for the first time in her life she could have put her guard down if she wanted to, and she would’ve been safe doing so. I think Minthara would’ve known that with or without a tadpole.