Whumptober #18
Day 18 - Baldur's Gate 3 - Tortured For Information
*
Scratch’s barking echoed through the camp. Those who had claimed spots around the fire stirred reluctantly, lifting their heads and squinting tiredly at the dog as he ran towards them.
“Not now, boy,” Karlach groaned, pressing her head to the pillow.
“Tav, control your dog,” Astarion said, closing his eyes.
When Tav didn’t respond and the frantic barking continued, Astarion’s tired brain made a startling connection. He sat bolt upright, gaze shooting to Tav’s empty bedroll.
“Oh no,” he said miserably.
“Hm?” Karlach muttered.
“Tav’s gotten himself into trouble. Again. And it just had to be in the middle of the bloody night.”
Karlach got right up and kicked Gale, who had slept through the barking. “Up! Tav’s gone!”
Scratch reached them, whining and barking as he danced around them anxiously. He went right up to Astarion, lowering his head and whining.
Astarion knew Tav sometimes went out for walks just outside of camp when he couldn’t sleep at night. Scratch would occasionally follow along to keep him company.
“Was he taken?” Astarion asked.
Scratch barked, tail wagging. Karlach got up, dragging Astarion and Gale with her.
“We’ve got a friend to save,” she said, pulling them along.
“Don’t touch me,” Astarion said, shaking his arm free. “Scratch?”
Scratch barked and ran forward, looking back to make sure they were following him. They took a moment to grab their weapons and packs before following after him, knowing they didn’t have time to properly dress.
Scratch led them outside of the camp, into a set of trees. It was dark out, but the moon reflected off a stream flowing alongside the path enough to make the ground visible. Astarion smelled Tav’s blood before he saw it sprayed against the ground.
Scratch whined at it, pawing the ground and looking up to the others. Karlach knelt down before him, scratching behind his ears.
“We’ll find him, boy,” she promised. “Can you help?”
Scratch whined and sniffed at the ground. He practically pressed his nose to the dirt as he began to walk along, nose working overtime to find his friend.
“Which of our many enemies is it this time?” Astarion said, stretching.
“Don’t act like you’re not worried,” Karlach said, shooting him a look.
“I’m tired,” Astarion corrected, refusing to admit he was worried. Of course he was; Tav could be a bit naive but he wasn’t oblivious or weak. Taking him by surprise and dragging him away would take a skilled enemy to accomplish.
They fell silent, going on alert as Scratch led them further through the trees and away from camp. They probably should’ve woken the others up for reinforcement, but it was too late to worry about that now.
Scratch suddenly stopped, growling low in his throat, his whole body going tense. Astarion slipped past him and moved stealthily through the trees until a small camp came into view. He signaled at the others to stay back while he observed what they were up against.
The first thing he realized was that Tav was tightly bound to a chair, bruised and bloody. He’d clearly been beaten in the time it took them to find him.
The second thing he realized was that Tav was surrounded by five Gur. One, the apparent leader, towered over him, a knife in hand. She pressed it to his throat.
“Be a shame if the bard lost his voice,” she said, the flames from the small fire in their camp glinting off the blade.
“A loss to the world,” Tav said weakly, but didn’t flinch back as she pressed it just hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.
“Tell us where the monster is,” she snarled, grabbing his hand. “Or I will hear you scream once more and then take your voice from you forever.”
Tav dragged his gaze up, one of his eyes nearly swollen shut and coated with blood. He met her eyes with a hard look.
“I will never tell you where Astarion is,” he said simply. “Do your worst.”
She placed his hand on the chair and held her hand out. One of the others handed her a mallet, and Astarion felt rage pour through his as she slammed it down on his hand.
Tav clenched his teeth together, throwing his head back at the audible break of his hand. He squirmed in his bindings, but refused to give them the satisfaction of his screams of pain.
“You would suffer for that monster?” she demanded.
“I would suffer for that man, again and again,” Tav said, his voice strained with pain. “I will not tell you where he is.”
“Then you will die slowly in his place,” she said, taking the knife into her hand again.
Astarion had forgotten the others waiting for his signal. He had forgotten everything but the man below, enduring pain just to keep Astarion safe. Protecting Astarion, even knowing that Astarion had only pursued him originally for that very thing.
But it had grown beyond that. Tav was unlike anyone Astarion had ever met, and he proved it again even now without knowing it. He was loyal to a fault; it was going to get him killed.
But not today. Not right now. Astarion refused to watch Tav suffer another moment.
He brandished his daggers in hand, let his rage fill him, and slipped into the shadows to teach these bastards what true suffering was.
