Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters & Story

My primary reason for writing about this is to have some closure on Baldur’s Gate 3. The game was so good that it consumed all my free time, invaded my dreams and thoughts. It is a sort of mourning, but one that I actually appreciate. Maybe you feel the same way, or you are just curious, so I hope this writing will help you out too. If not with closure then perhaps with noticing something you may have missed.

I will go through all the main characters and note down how their personalities have presented themselves to me. Won’t go into the story itself separately. I think the characters and their reactions to certain events made the story what it was, and they are so intertwined, trying to separate them would be folly.

There will be spoilers, all of them that felt necessary.

Since the Lord of The Rings books, hardly can I remember a time when I have found a single character interesting, let alone most of them. In Baldur’s Gate 3 almost all companion characters are very interesting and even some NPCs. Nearly all have some relatable story, even though in our world there are no vampires, demons or undead. All of them have some development arc and all of them will change for the better or worse depending on your choices. Like in real life if you are a good friend who walks with open eyes, you may nudge them onto the right path and everyone will be better for it.

Companion characters

Let’s examine these characters and see who they are. Not surprisingly most of them are different from how they would first appear, and they may change in very fascinating ways. As if the old saying “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”, really had something going for it. Not all characters will be examined here. This is most likely because there just isn’t enough to warrant a separate section, or I simply didn’t find them that interesting to begin with. For example Jaheira, Minsc and Halsin were all companions with some substance, but they were already fully developed. They didn’t have a real character arc, nothing that really gripped me. Minthara, while fascinating on a first sight, was left utterly incomplete. Which is truly sad. What is already there for her, hints at a very unusual character. Her story though, sadly never goes anywhere. Lastly, The Emperor will be omitted as well. While he is with us the whole game, he doesn’t have an arc. The biggest revelation we may learn is that he is a monster too. That he may be helping us, and he will keep to his word, he does not do it out of kindness, but pure necessity. If he could, he wouldn’t even try to communicate with us, instead he would just dominate us like he did with Duke Stelmane.

I am categorically uninterested in evil paths that would lead any companions down into the abyss. For this reason, I can’t comment on what happens if any of them do the worst things they can. Simply didn’t see these, and it would pain me to do so.

Whenever appropriate, characters will be quoted to convey their story better. These will be always in-game quotes, however sometimes some intermediate dialog will be omitted for brevity and flow.

Withers

How Wither’s describes himself:

A scribe, a seneschal - a keeper of records.

A very constrained description given the powers he commands. Throughout the game he will resurrect all of your companions that have died by accident, but he will categorically refuse to restore anyone who you have killed by choice or while being possessed. He judges the dead and only the dead. He cares not for your actions or their consequences, only for the souls of the dead and what is best for them. Could they be sent back to the world of the living, or will it be better for them to rest eternally? When someone dies their name goes onto his list, and when he resurrects someone their name gets crossed from it. He will “cleave soul to body once more”, for a mere pittance of coin.

As a veteran gamer we might not even recognize how odd Withers really is. In the D&D universe “resurrection”, especially the form he does called “true resurrection” is no small feat, so we might just ignore him as an instrument of good game design “let the players be able to conveniently resurrect their fallen party members”, but he is so much more. And to really know him one has to play through the game multiple times, pass some skill checks, get the appropriate conversations and observe.

In short, he is the original God of Death, the Lord of the End of Everything, called Jergal. He did his job very well for eons, but because he never desired power and had so much of it he grew tired of his toils and when Bane, Bhaal and Myrkul stormed his domain to ascend to godhood he gave up most of his powers to them freely. He then served Myrkul as the Final Scribe. Furthermore, he was displeased with what the Bane, Bhaal and Myrkul, or in short The Dead Three were doing to his office. They were turning death into something to be feared, normalizing un-death and tormenting mortals with their games and schemes. Despite all this he diligently worked and recorded the names of the dead. Then Kelemvor became the new God of Death in place of the The Dead Three. Kelemvor believed death was natural and that it should be as peaceful as possible. His priests/priestesses would roam the lands banishing the undead and easing the passing of all who suffered. Then at the beginning of the game Kelemvor sends the Final Scribe to aid you. This is not by his choice at all, as he will let you know immediately and just as fast he will start examining you. One of the first things he asks upon awakening is:

What is the worth of a single mortal’s life?

Many options are given to us as possible answers, and he accepts them all, but seems to be happiest with “Each life is of infinite value and merits sacrificing everything for.”. Which is an answer alright, it may ring true too, but it feels a little naive, perhaps. There is another answer that sounds more grounded “That depends on a person’s deeds.”. This seems fairer right? Otherwise, the life of a murderer would have the same value as that of a saint. However, death does not seem to care about such matters. He is eternal and endless and to him all life has equal value. An individuals action’s may stain their souls and when they face Death he will judge them by that and sort them accordingly. Until the moment you die, this God of Death cares not for your actions. Until then everything is free game. In other words the message is “No matter your sins, you may redeem yourself.”, which echoes throughout the whole game. To really see why we need to see the arc all other companions, especially that of The Dark Urge.

Wyll - The Blade of Frontiers and Mizora

This is what Lae’zel has to say about him:

The githyanki people have a word for men like the Blade of Frontiers: She’lak. Roughly translated: ‘idealist do-gooder’. Or better yet, ‘benevolent burden’. His confidence is an asset. His pursuit of valour? Not so much.

Frankly she is right. Wyll proudly calls himself the Blade of Frontiers, the name he probably gave himself the same as he will do with The Blade of Avernus later on. Uses every opportunity to proclaim his valour and spread his legend. The hero of the common folk. All true, but he is so much more. This is partly just an act. Hard to see, because his character isn’t outstanding in any other way. However, if we listen to what he says and observe what he does can we really see who he is. A man of an utterly unshakable moral code and resolve. He would pick the burdens of the world on his shoulders, just so he can spare it from someone else. No matter the price he has and must pay still.

His father is Ulder Ravengard, the Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate. A man respected for his qualities far and wide. Wyll ever hopes to follow in his footsteps. When Wyll was 17 his father went away on a diplomatic mission while some cultists attempted to conjure Tiamat, the dragon queen, and destroy Baldur’s Gate. As devil’s do, they use mortals for their own purposes and whom better to corrupt then the well-meaning sole son of such a celebrated man. And thus Wyll was given a choice by Mizora the servant of the arch-devil Zariel.

She will destroy Baldur’s Gate. Grant me your soul - and I will give you the power to save it.

She read the terms while two devils stood witness. And I said yes. One soul for one city.

He saves the city, eternally condemning his soul to Mizora and Zariel. To torment him ever more, when his father returns Mizora, a devil, awaits him by Wyll’s side. Forbidden by the pact, to talk about it, Wyll cannot explain what he did or why. His father only sees his son accompanied by a smirking devil. He casts him out. Yet Wyll never harbors any resentment towards his father and says:

He did the only thing he could. In his eyes, I invited a devil into our midst. I was a fool at best; a traitor at worst.

Even after years of being Mizora’s lapdog he will claim it was his proudest moment, and he would do it again. Even though he completely understands the price he paid, and he will vehemently oppose you taking Raphael’s deal (another devil):

He’ll require of you only what you’re least ready to part with. And then require more still. You might think you’d give up anything for a cure. But the devil won’t take just anything. He’ll take everything.

Then when meeting Karlach whom he was tasked to kill by Mizora, after he learns that she isn’t a monster he was told her to be, he immediately stops and violates the terms of his pact. Knowing full well, that doing so will carry a punishment for him, likely a life ending one. Mizora comes and irreversibly turns Wyll into a devil. Now he is a monster he wishes to protect others from. Yet, he doesn’t waver. Not for a moment does he regret, becoming a devil to save an innocents’ life.

Later on we get the option to break Wyll’s pact with Mizora by letting his father die. You have to convince him that enough is enough and that he deserves a life too. Otherwise, he just won’t do it. He would rather face eternal servitude than to let his father die. Mind you Mizora was very clever, because she gave a choice which for an outside observer was simple, but not for Wyll. Wyll’s father has already been sent off to be executed, so the choice wasn’t really between killing him and saving him, but letting things take their course or performing a miracle.

If Wyll’s father is saved (yes we can save him even if we break Wyll’s pact), we get a final mission. To wake the ancient protector of Baldur’s Gate, Ansur, a dragon of legend, to be called upon the utmost of needs. Ansur would rise from his slumber and protect the city for a single time and depart. We go and find the rotting corpse of the dragon. Killed long ago Ansur’s spirit corrupted by hatred rises to destroy us. Upon slaying it, Wyll is disappointed that we couldn’t gain such a powerful ally, but his father says:

A terrible fate for Ansur, my son. Yet my hopes for the city’s future have never been higher. You and your allies slayed the undead terror that was once the great Ansur. You are stronger than even the great wyrm. You will be the one to part the storms and lead the people through. You, not Ansur, are the saviour we need.

Finally, when all is over, and Wyll has successfully broken his pact, became free and is offered to become the Duke of Baldur’s Gate he refuses on his own. He does not seek any power, only the strength to help those he cares for. Thus, when Karlach is about to combust, he is the first one offering to accompany her back to hell. A lonely mortal, a benevolent burden indeed, but with enough faith and courage to face the impossible.

Gale of Waterdeep

How Gale describes himself:

I’m what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet. Such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady of Mysteries. The goddess Mystra. She revealed herself to me and she became my teacher. In time, she became my muse, and later, even my lover.

His story is ultimately about a rise and a greater fall. Which may not be that interesting on an initial look, but how Gale handles it is. Magic to him is everything:

Magic is… my life. I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing like it. It’s like music, poetry, physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses.

Yet we meet him, with most of his powers lost and a magical orb inside him. An orb that needs to be fed with magic, otherwise it will erupt with such power that it would level a city. We feed him with magical artifacts from which he can consume the Weave, but soon this proves too little. His time is running out and here we learn of Gale’s folly:

You see, no matter how powerful a wizard we mortals can become, we never scratch more than the surface of the Weave. Mystra keeps us in check. There are boundaries she doesn’t let us cross. Yet every time I was with her, I stood on the precipice, gazing into the wonders that lay beyond. I sought to cross her boundaries.

As inconceivable as it seems to me now, I shared a bed with a goddess and yet I wasn’t satisfied. So I sought to prove myself worthy to her instead. We come now to the crux of my folly.

Once upon a very long time ago, a mighty lord lived in a tower. A flying tower, to be precise. I’ll save his history for another time, but the gist of it is that he sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself. He almost managed, but not quite, and his entire empire - Netheril - came crashing down around him as he turned to stone. The magic unleashed that day was phenomenal, roiling like the prime chaos that outdates creation. Even the Weave itself could not withstand the onslaught. It fractured, then shattered, and all magic was lost to the mortal realms until the day Mystra returned. She restored the Weave, reuniting all its scattered shards. Or so I thought, until in the course of my studies I learned of a book. A Netherese tome in which a piece of the fractured Weave had been sealed beyond her reach. ‘What if’, I though, ‘What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the goddess? … I obtained the fabled book and took it into my study. As for what happened next…’

He opens the book, but he finds a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces and burrows itself into his chest. Ever so hungry this Weave consumes his talents and even more. It continuously must be fed, lest it destroys him and the surrounding city in an explosion similar to the fall of Netheril.

Netheril was an empire of legend. Cities flying in the sky, beauty and science at its peak. It was pure bliss until Karsus reached too far and everything came crushing down. The fabric of reality shattered, then was slowly healed by Mystra. Gale just wanted to impress his goddess, but in doing so seemingly became deathly ill. Even worse, after this event he can’t even communicate with Mystra. As if he made a deadly mistake, one dire enough, that he is not worthy even for a discussion.

With his inevitable death approaching he feels lost until we meet Elminster Aumar, another wizard of legend, close to 1300 years old, bringing a dire message:

You must know that the Absolute is more dangerous than you can possibly conceive. It threatens all who live - even those who are undying. It threatens the gods, the Weave, the very fabric of the universe itself. That is why I have come to charge you, Gale, with its destruction. It is Mystra’s belief that only you can.

Gale is expected to voluntarily sacrifice himself, using the orb inside him as a bomb to destroy the Absolute. And for this Elminster puts a spell on Gale, by Mystras bidding, which stops the orb from acting up. From this point on Gale doesn’t have to consume magical artifacts, he just has to die. We don’t know more and Gale doesn’t need to know more. He accepts his fate. If by his death, Mystra would forgive him, he would sacrifice gladly himself.

When we first meet this so-called Absolute, we learn that it is an elder-brain, a mind flayer hivemind, dominated by three mortals, using a Netherese artifact, The Crown of Karsus. The very crown he used to try and ascend to godhood. The Crown that destroyed a whole civilization and threatened reality itself. If we prevent Gale from blowing himself up here, he will start contemplating taking the Crown for himself. In his misguided bitterness he believes that mortals should really achieve power comparable to the gods. So that they wouldn’t have to be their playthings. Can we blame him? He was cast aside by his goddess when he made a mortal mistake, left to fend for himself until his demise seemed of convenient usefulness. He is contemplating it, but never truly seems to believe that using the Crown would really be for the betterment of all.

This is when Gale is finally granted an audience with Mystra, who asks Gale why didn’t he destroy the Absolute with the Crown when he had the chance.

I didn’t want to die. And when I saw the Crown, I thought I might not have to, if I only understood its power.

And you believe you have the right to such an understanding? The past cannot be undone with self-pity, nor can a future be forged. Only with the truth will you see the way ahead. The fragment of magic you tried to return to me was not of my creation. It was the Karsite Weave. It is a corrupted, half-born magic wrought in the brief moment Karsus ascended to godhood. It hungers for power just as he did, and it can never be sated. You unleashed something that would consume all magic in existence, and yet you thought only of preserving yourself.

That can’t be. It wasn’t - it couldn’t have been. I only wished to prove myself worthy. I had no idea…

You were already worthy. What you lacked was patience, and it cost you dearly.

The only reason the ‘orb’ sleeps is because I have allowed it to feed on the true Weave - a temporary measure, but one that will not be enough to save us. With each day that passes, the elder brain threatens to become a new kind of god, its worshippers a scourge of soulless illithids. If you will not use the orb to end this abomination, then you must find a way to separate Crown and host. When you’ve done this, you must surrender the Crown of Karsus to me.

I won’t let you down again. When the Absolute is vanquished, I will surrender Karsus’ powers to you. You have my word.

Thank you. May the Weave’s light guide your purpose, and its wisdom guide your hand. The future of magic rests on your shoulders, Gale of Waterdeep. I promise you - it is a burden you are strong enough to bear.

And so he is, and so he does.

It is interesting to see in the end that Mystra never really abandoned him. In fact she put the fate of all magic on the line so that Gale could live a little longer and get a chance at saving creation. In the end, all that Gale ever needed was some faith. Some faith in himself that he was enough, and some faith in her goddess.

Karlach

While others talk about Karlach, I believe in her case it is better if I gave a short description of her:

Karlach is the essence of life itself. Beat her down and she will spring back up. She would rage against her foes, but not take more than she needs.

She came from absolute poverty, then after she started to build a life for herself, her patron Gortash simply sold her to Zariel, the arch-devil of the first layer of hell, Avernus. There they ripped out her heart and replaced it with an infernal engine, so she may fight endlessly in the eternal blood-wars. She spent 10 years in hell, alone, without anyone to call a friend. Her isolation was complete and privation maximal. Then she got infected by the tadpole and has managed to escape. Now, in the material world, she lives on borrowed time, because her engine can only exist in hell. It does not belong in the material plane, so she is literally burning up from the inside. The magical flames emanating from her make it impossible for anyone to even touch her. Finally, she got out of hell and still she can’t touch anybody. She is desperate to have a hug, but she just can’t have it. Later in the story we may fix her engine enough that she can at least have some physical contact but not enough to ultimately save her. Can you imagine the amount of suffering she must have gone through? Then to learn that there is nothing that can be done? Her only option at survival seems to be to return to hell. Which for obvious reasons she doesn’t want to do.

Despite all of this she never gives up and the only thing she wants more than anything is to live. She never allowed herself to be corrupted by her circumstances. To be twisted by resentment and grief. In a sense she is incorruptible. She will never join your character in any evil act, in fact she will leave you immediately if you indulge in any, if not outright try to kill you.

Understandably she is fueled by hatred against Gortash and seeks vengeance. However, when we finally manage to kill Gortash, Karlach realizes that her revenge was for nothing. She will die regardless, her life remains stolen from her and there is nothing left for her. She says:

But there’s nothing, is there? I killed the bastard who ruined my life, and my prize is that I get to crawl into a corner and die. Am I fucking missing something? He’s dead, and he’s no fucking sorrier now than he was before. What was the point? I’m still dying. I’m dying. I’m going to die!

Then she completely breaks down:

My heart. It was mine, and they took it. I’m going to be as dead as a Gortash any day now. Any moment. And what then? Off to the City of Judgement to waste into oblivion? Into the dirt to get eaten by maggots? Is that it for me?! Is that fucking all?! And you - you’ll just keep going, won’t you. Watching the stars. Warming your hands on the campfire. Dancing, eating, making fucking love all night - all of it, all of it. That’s my reward for everything I suffered. That’s why I survived ten years of torment. The fighting, the clawing, the loneliness, the fucking loneliness… All of it, so I could rot. Because the person I trusted the most gave me away to the devil. It isn’t fair. I don’t want it like this. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want to stay.

Then again as likely countless times before it, she eventually refuses to give up. If later asked if she is alright, she will say:

Yeah, despite my best efforts. I kept trying to flop over and give up, but Karlach just won’t let me.

Then you say that there still might be hope for her:

Maybe. But I think… I think the gods are trying to show me my fate. And I think I’m ready to look at it. Speaking of which. There’s something I wanted to ask you. Will you stay with me? When it’s time. For me to go. I think I can do anything if you’re there. Even die.

After you obviously confirm this, because you aren’t a monster she says:

Now! Enough tragedy! I’m not gone yet. And our schedule is packed with important heroics, isn’t it.

That is goddam strength right there! And wisdom too. To face the certainty of your oblivion yet despite your suffering, despite your absolute torment, choosing to go forward, do the right thing until your final breadth. Every other character sees this too and even Lae’zel can only speak of her admiration towards Karlach. This is how I think we all should aspire to become, at least in principle.

There are 3 endings for Karlach. She becomes a mind flayer and lives, she dies, or she goes back to Avernus. From these three only the last two are interesting. The death one, because it really drills home who she was:

I never gave up. I did my best. I did my best. It’s the one thing I can’t beat, isn’t it? I wanted to live. In my city. With my friends. But life is for the living. And I saw - gods (cry of pain)! Goodbye, sun. Goodbye, sea. Goodbye.

In my mind, however there is only one ending for her. When you convince her, with Wyll, the benevolent burden, to go back to Avernus together and face whatever may come.

Better let these fuckers know I’m back. And this time, I’m not alone.

Astarion

I remember how it hurt when I turned into a vampire. My body writhed and warped while I was utterly helpless, the grip of death owned my heart as it beat its last.

Astarion, plain and simple, is a sociopath. And as such, although he is capable of empathy and kindness, he can be brutal and uncaring. We should see however, that compared to all the other characters from the game, arguably he had it worst. Even worse than perhaps most of them combined. While I have personally found his character absolutely appalling to interact with, we really should note this as a real testament to his writing and to his actor’s Neil Newbon’s stellar performance. While in real life, we should stay away from such characters, as mean as that sounds, here it is good to take a close look and try to understand how someone can get so twisted. Because, as we will learn Astarion isn’t really evil by nature, he just got a really, really terrible life.

One of our first meaningful interactions with Astarion is when our avatar wakes up from a nightmare in the middle of the night just to see Astarion’s face closing in on its neck, fangs barred.

No no - it’s not what it looks like, I swear! I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed - well, blood.

And his manipulations start:

I feed on animals! Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please. Only be a taste, I swear. I’ll be well, you’ll be fine, and everything can go back to normal.

Well, you can let him suck a little blood. You can then attempt 3 times to stop him, before he eventually kills you. If you survive in a few days Astarion will start to reveal his past, in his slimy, manipulative ways:

There you are, I was just thinking about you. And that delicious moment we shared the other night.

The moment when you bit me?

The very same. I’ve had this condition for two centuries, but truth be told? You were my first. In all these years, I’ve only ever fed on beasts. Drinking the blood of thinking creatures is a different thing entirely. You were delectable. And now I just can’t help but wonder how the others taste.

Throughout the whole game he will talk in this pattern. The slimy, manipulative flattery, followed by some small truth. On some occasions though, he will open up and may reveal things that are hard to hear.

Cazador Szarr is a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power. Not political power or military power - I mean power over people. The power to control them completely. He turned me nearly two hundred years ago. I became his spawn and he became my tormentor.

When we ask him whether he was a slave we can finally get a glimpse into his horror:

A vampire’s spawn is less than a slave. They’re a puppet. We have no choice but to obey our masters’ commands. They speak and our bodies react - it’s all part of the deal. Sometimes he’d order us to submit to torture. Sometimes he’d have us torture ourselves. Whatever his weathervane mood settled on.

Because of this past, Astarion is the only companion who is actually okay being infected with a mind flayer parasite. He is seriously considering dealing with Raphael, just so he never has to go back to Cazador.

I won’t lie, it’s tempting. If I keep the tadpole, I risk transforming into a grotesque monster. If I lose the tadpole, Cazador has control of me, body and soul, and I return to the shadows. It’s grim either way, so why not sell what’s left of my soul to a devil? Better he has it than Cazador.

Astarion doesn’t even remember how he looks or what his original eye-color was:

I… I don’t know. I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost.

He would also reveal a number of important points about himself and his actions while talking about how does one become a vampire spawn:

It’s simple. Just find a vampire that will drink your blood and turn you into a vampire spawn: their obedient puppet. In theory, the next step is to drink their blood. Once you’ve done that, you’re free and a true vampire. People think the biggest threat to a vampire is a cleric with a stake. It’s not. The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire. They’re scheming, paranoid, power-hungry beasts. So why would any vampire give up control over a spawn to create a competitor? Trust me. It doesn’t happen.

From this we can also see he is very confused. On the one hand he says power rules and on the other he describes how detestable the ones in power are.

After saving the Druid’s Grove, during the celebration he will say:

Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here… I hate it. This is awful.

He is in so much pain. He does not know right from wrong. To him, killing the goblins would be the same as killing the tieflings, he just sees bodies. When we learn the tadpoles are controlled by a power in Moonrise, he remarks:

Imagine, the entire cult under our thumb. I’m just saying there’s an opportunity before us. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and enjoy a little world domination on the side. You can’t tell me that doesn’t sound fun.

He doesn’t even notice it, but he talks about his plans as he has described his master’s actions. Others be damned, if I am on top, it will be good for me and that is all that matters.

As his torment seemingly has no end, we can observe him touching huge scars on his back. He can’t check it in the mirror, and he can’t trace it by hand, but he knows it means something.

So… I was wondering if maybe - perhaps - you might be able to… Can you read what’s on my damned back? Please.

The narrator helpfully explains: The jagged script is definitely Infernal, the language of the Hells, but you can’t make out its meaning.

If we draw the symbols on his back into the dirt he will say:

Two centuries carrying this, and I can finally see it.

This says a lot about his life. For 200 years he wore a brand he knew means something, but there was no-one around him, who he could trust to take a look at it. But it gets worse, I am afraid.

Cazador sired seven spawn - me and my six ‘brothers and sisters’. He always insisted we were family - even when he was carving scars into our flesh. I was one of his first, some of the others came years later. He was a monster to us all, but did take special pleasure in my pain. He said my screams sounded sweetest. And now that I’m gone… I don’t know. I pity the other six…

There is only one person who can help him with his scar. The devil Raphael. If we kill Yurgir as, he asked, he happily shares what the scars on Astarion’s back mean:

I discovered all there is to know about those scars of yours - it’s rather grim tale, even for my tastes. Carved into that ivory skin of yours is one part of an infernal contract between the archdevil Mephistopheles and your former master, Cazador Szarr. In full, the contract states that Cazador will be granted the knowledge of an infernal ritual so vile it has never been performed. The Rite of Profane Ascension. It promises to be a marvellous ceremony. Very elaborate, incredibly ancient, and entirely diabolical. If he completes the rite, he will become a new kind of being - the Vampire Ascendant. All the strengths of his vampiric form will be amplified, and alongside them he will enjoy the luxuries of the living. The arousals and appetites of man will return to him, and unlike Astarion, he will have no need of a parasite to protect him from the sun. But the ritual has its price, as all worthwhile things do. Lord Cazador will need to sacrifice a number of souls, including all of his vampiric spawn, if he is to ascend. Imagine how he felt, then, when one of those precious spawn simply disappeared into thin air.

What would you do, if you were in Astarion’s place? Now that you have learned you were kept for the slaughter. As a key ingredient the vengeful vampire lord would hunt you until the ends of the world. Your only option is to attack and defeat him, free your brethren and end this torment for you all. Not Astarion. He is contemplating taking over the ritual, so he can ascend, so he can become all powerful, so he may never be oppressed again. The twisted logic he employs is somewhat correct, but when he tries to justify sacrificing his spawn companions, we can really see, how damaged he has gotten:

I don’t relish it, but my siblings lured thousands of people to their deaths over the years. I doubt Baldur’s Gate would miss them.

Isn’t this exactly what Astarion has done too? His moral compass isn’t fully broken, he can somewhat tell right from wrong, but by Cazador’s influence he believes, if you are the most powerful that absolves you from the morality of your actions. While this may or may not be true, no meaningful life could be lead this way. It only leads to the cycle of pain continuing.

In Moonrise towers, Araj Oblodra entirely ignores Astarion. To her, a master of the sanguine arts, a vampire spawn is a servant to its master, and she believes that to be us. To fulfill her lifelong dream she asks our avatar if our vampire spawn would bite her. In return for being bitten she would give us a special potion of power. What’s the harm right? Easy trade, but Astarion protests. He doesn’t want to bite her, because there is something wrong with her blood, and it would taste disgusting. There are basically 3 options. We tell Astarion to do it, remark that the potion could be useful, but we don’t want to force him, or say that it is okay, he won’t do it. From these 3 only the third will result in Astarion not drinking her blood. Even for the second one he would force himself to do it. This comes from his slave mentality, which he confirms if we let him reject the offer:

I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. You could have asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.

It is worth pointing out, that we aren’t Astarion’s master, and we have never commanded him to do anything prior to this interaction. Yet, de-facto in his mind we are the master now and he would do as he was told.

Yet, as you might imagine this doesn’t fix him, when we reach Baldur’s Gate he will remind us of his madness:

The problem with what Cazador has done is that he did it to me. If the time comes, and I can stay one move ahead of him, I’ll take his place before his blood can hit the floor. What’s a handful of the wretch’s servants? If they’re anything like me when I was enslaved, they’re all but begging for death anyway. After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, I think I deserve something better. All I’m saying is: let’s be clever about it. If an opportunity arises for me to become a more magnificent bastard that I already am, why turn it down? If we track down my old comrades - the other spawn - we may discover more… and be finely positioned for yours truly to ascend.

It won’t be long before Astarion has to face his past, truly understanding his actions. It all starts near Baldur’s Gate at the Gur camp, when we meet Ulma, the leader of the Gur’s who tells us that Astarion stole their children one night. That is why he was hunted by the Gurs. He was to be captured, interrogated and destroyed. However, Ulma is wise and has a need of him:

We have tried to save our children once already, attacking Cazador Szarr’s palace at first light. Even then, it was too well defended. But if his own spawn approached? Someone he thought he could control? 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 has a chance to put some things right, but he insists on taking his master’s place and becoming the Vampire Ascendant. As we see he would torture his spawn brother in the sunlight, so he could get to Cazador. He would lie to them, that he would save them when he killed his master. Knowing full well, that they would die in the process. His brethren don’t believe him, saying that he gave up fighting Cazador a long time ago. When confronted Astarion responds:

You don’t know what it was like. There was no way out. Once - in the first decade of my slavery - I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him. 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. 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. Nothing can make up for that. Not even Cazador’s death. But to steal his life’s work… that might be something.

Finally, we learn what Astarion is after. Revenge, but one that is beyond murder. He wants to take from Cazador everything he has. And honestly, can we blame him? Being immortal or not, sensory deprivation is by far the most brutal type of torture in the world. You don’t need to beat someone or hurt them in any other way, just seal them in a room, with nothing to do, just for a few weeks and they will break. Just a few months and their personalities can dissolve. The mind cannot brace the void, and Astarion went through that.

The torment has to end one way or the other, so we assault Cazador’s palace. When we reach the dungeon inside, the one that was hidden from all of them, even from Astarion, we find many horrors. One of which is the skeletal head of Cazador’s old master, Vellioth. The fragment of a mind left within the skull shares something horrific:

Vellioth’s recalls Cazador, his lessons learned, killing him in the Rite of Perfect Slaughter. How they both laughed! Veillioth recalls Cazador boiling the flesh from his skull and then, to mock him, clamping his Schooling Scroll in Vellioth’s jaws.

Ever worse yet Astarion learns the true extent of suffering they have brought upon this world when we find the prisoners. Seven thousand of them. One, Sebastian, enlightens us. He tells Astarion that he was the first and last person he ever kissed, reminiscing about his last moments before his abduction. In shock Astarion asks:

You should be dead. Why didn’t Cazador feed on you?

He made me a spawn. Left me her to rot. But I can’t rot - I can’t die. How long has it been?

One hundred and seventy years. You were one of my first too.

And thus Astarion learns the full truth. Previously he was only a murderer bringing food to his master. Now he is an accomplice in the centuries old suffering of thousands. All the humans he has ever abducted are here. Imprisoned since their capture, awaiting the moment of their final sacrifice. We find the Gur children too, as spawns, but at this point, what did we expect.

After finally defeating Cazador, Astarion must choose between ascending or not. There are 3 options here, he ascends, we forcefully interrupt his ascension, or we convince him that he may do better. Convincing him isn’t easy, but it is the best outcome for him. Then he is faced with yet another brutal choice. Save seven thousand spawns, many of which he brought to his master, or kill them all. Releasing them would unleash seven thousand souls many of which have been tormented for more than a century. The mind cannot comprehend their suffering and the subsequent madness that they lived through. They can’t ever see the sunlight, cannot ever eat normal food. As long as they live, their bodies will hunger for blood of the living. Some may curb their urges, but many will not. So he, only has one choice, really. Kill them all.

After this, Ulma forgives him and offers a few words of encouragement:

For us, destroying evil is a simple choice. We are born to do it - trained to do it. But to face your kin? To face everything you know and still make that choice. There is nothing simple there. It is a tragedy so many had to die, but had they lived they would have caused a thousand more tragedies. You did not choose an easy path, but you chose the correct one.

In this ending Astarion has failed in his quest for power. He remained a spawn, and he will be eternally bound to his hunger and the world of the night. On the other hand, even if he can’t see himself in a mirror, if he could, now he could look himself in the eyes. While he didn’t become a vampire, he saved the last thing that remained to him after all of his torment. His soul.

Shadowheart

Shadoweheart is a half-elf, cleric of Shar. Shar is the Mistress of the Night, the Lady of Loss, a goddess whose aim is to turn the world into eternal darkness so that nothing may exist.

I am the empty room. The dreamless sleep. The shadow’s shadow. There was no pain before my sister set the sun aflame.

Shar’s sister is Selune, the goddess of the moon, the Moonmaiden. As one might guess they are polar opposites. Selune promotes life and piece, Shar does so with darkness and oblivion. Based on her affiliation we may expect Shadowheart to be some backstabbing, lying, thieving good for nothing, but as we may see, she is anything but.

The night brings comfort. Through loss, we find acceptance. In the arms of the Dark Mother we find peace. Most fear the dark, like children, because in darkness they see their fears reflected.

Everything she says makes sense, but it is just so sad. Embracing emptiness and loss. Is really this one should aim for in life? Shadowheart seems to think so:

But Shar teaches us to step beyond fear. Beyond loss. In darkness we do not hide - we act. Pain. Hope. The promise of better days. All of these are heavy cloaks that bend our backs and burden our hearts.

She is often arrogant and defensive when it comes to Shar:

Well if that troubles you, perhaps you should fetch the bailiff to arrest me… ah, but there’s no bailiff here, is there? Just leagues of wilderness and the dangers lurking within. We’re in this together, but I’ll happily go it alone. My faith will keep me company.

While in virtually any other situation she advocates for staying together and not loosing our heads. Throughout the whole journey, she will be Shar this, Shar that, but whenever she sees an idol of Selune she will pause and stay silent for a while until, some mark on her hand causes her some pain. This is what happens when we see the first broken statue of Selune in the village. When questioned by the pain she says:

I… I don’t know exactly. Lady Shar protects me.

Shar causes you pain to protect her? Hmm. That is a bit suss. If we push her about it:

The wound on my hand. It never quite heals, and sometimes it causes terrible pain to rip through me. It’s my burden though, from Lady Shar. I can feel her influence, somehow…

Why?

I cannot say - not with what I can recall. But even then, it would not be for me to question her will. Lady Shar has her reasons.

What does it mean?

It’s difficult to say… sometimes I wonder if it’s supposed to be guiding me, punishing me, testing me… but perhaps it’s none of those. Perhaps it’s completely random. I’d like to hope there’s more to it than that - some meaning that Lady Shar will revel to me, when the time is right. Until then, all I can do is endure. Pain is sacred to followers of Lady Shar. Pain will give way to loss, and then to the peace of her eternal darkness. You can tolerate a great deal of suffering so long as it has meaning.

Shadowheart seems to have some sort of amnesia.

With my memories suppressed, I can’t betray Shar’s secrets… but I can’t remember much of myself either. If I manage to return to Baldur’s Gate and fulfil Shar’s mission… then my memories will be restored.

She has no memories about herself, what she is doing or why does she have a gith artifact. Which very quickly proves to be invaluable. The moment we try to enter the Goblin camp, we hear a voice in our heads. The voice of such overwhelming authority that our avatar can barely stay conscious. It is talking about a Prism, which they need to find. The world is receding into darkness when Shadowheart’s artifact somehow repels it.

Don’t give me that look. I don’t know what just happened any more than you do. We should keep going.

All this darkness talk, yet after we save the tieflings from the Goblins in the Druid’s Grove she will be pleased.

Never gave them much thought. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.

The next revelation comes when we meet the first wolf enemies, as it turns out, she is deathly afraid of them.

They’re ravenous predators with fangs like daggers - it’s hardly an irrational fear to harbor. You’ve been decent to me, so far. Maybe if you can… don’t make me face any more of them. At least not alone.

Interesting, the servant of the Lady of Loss, cares for others and is afraid of wolves? She would face the wilderness alone, we faced trolls and a goblin horde, but she is afraid of wolves? There is something that is amiss here. If she approves of our avatar enough she will share one memory from her far past that couldn’t be suppressed.

The vision is of a little girl, with a bleeding scar on her face, in a forest, under a moonlit sky, facing down a wolf. But before her inevitable death a group of Shar followers save her. One of them kneels down to her.

She asked me my name. I can’t remember what I said. I can’t remember anything before those woods. All I know is she saved my life, and gave me a new home. With Lady Shar.

If your avatar is a priest of Selune, or know about history, or read the appropriate books in the game, this scene will remind it of a rite. In which Selune’s followers send their children to forest alone, so that they may follow the light of the Moonmaiden home. When we tell her this, suspiciously she doesn’t revert to her snarky Shar is the best attitude, but disregards it nonetheless.

Our goal is to get to Moonrise towers, to find out who is controlling the parasites and be rid of them. The tower stands in the heart of the Shadow Cursed land. A land decimated by a curse. Everything that the darkness touches withers away and eventually dies. Everyone is affected by the Shadowcurse, except for Shadowheart. She claims this is because she is blessed by Shar, that she protects her. That very well may be, but the land is destroyed. There is no light, there is no life. Everything that once lived now haunts the plane as a vengeful spirit.

She must be chosen for something, but she becomes more and more restless.

I’ll admit it, staying true to Lady Shar has proved difficult at times. I’ve found that my mind is prone to wandering. Wandering to places I shouldn’t go, at that. Forbidden thoughts, hidden memories… all that Lady Shar would shield me from, until I am ready. Sometimes it feels like there’s something just out of reach. Some truth, on the tip of my tongue. And at times, I feel like I can almost voice it. When I shared the memory from my childhood, you found it far too easy to make a connection to Selune for my liking. Nothing is simple anymore. Sometimes it feels like all I have are doubts.

Shadowheart is very confused about who she is or should be. On the one hand she tries desperately time and time again reinforce her ideas about Shar, so that on the other she may doubt them. The exact cycle occurs when we reach the Grand Mausoleum, a former Shar enclave, now a tomb, she will bring up one of her biggest dreams. To become a Dark Justiciar, an elite knight of Shar’s clergy. For this the initiate has to pass the gauntlet of Shar, a host of tests designed to weed out the unworthy, by killing them. Before each trial, one must make a blood sacrifice. Each time Shadowheart would ask you to let her do the honors. This is very important to her.

After we pass the trials, we can enter the inner sanctum, where the Dark Justiciar candidate has to kill a Selunite, as a final show of her devotion to Shar. We find the creature called the Nightsong. A tall woman, covered with scars from head to toe, in tattered clothes. When she approaches us phanthasmal hands grip her and hold her back. She is clearly a prisoner. Shadowheart demands the right to seal her fate.

The fate you seal is your own. To be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love, no joy - only servitude. Until, of course, your mistress inevitably discards you. And there is much she does not tell you - a terrible blood price that may extend beyond my own death. Well, well, well. What’s that I sense? A spear intended for my heart. Empowered by your goddess, aye - empowered to kill the child of a god. Do you know what I am, little assassin? For I know you - a lost child, frightened by wolves in the dark. Much has been promised to you, hasn’t it? But what has been taken from you? What do you know of your own heart - your own life? I sense more in you than you know.

There is a choice before Shadowheart. A choice she was training her whole life, but she is in doubt.

I… what do you think? What should I do?

If we choose try to tell her what she should do, she will kill the Nightsong. We may convince her not to, by passing a very high check. However, if we have been understanding with her so far, questing her, but without judgement, then if we let her make her own choice, we may see a brilliant piece of writing. Because in this case, on her own volition she will abandon Shar. Abandon the deity she was raised to praise, the only thing, the only life she has known… Until she met us, and our ragtag group of vagabonds and strays. With us, she saw that there is more to life than what her lady claims, and she has always had her doubts. All she needed was a little push and some faith.

I… I can’t believe I just did that. Lady Shar will disown me… what will happen to me?

But the Nightsong immediately comforts her:

Not what will happen - what will you do. Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed. Lay your hand on me in friendship, not-quite-Sharran, and I will fight the battle that has been waiting for me this last century. Then - oh then, we will have much to discuss.

Shadowheart complies, and the Nightsong is freed.

Our Lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selune - MOTHER OF THE SO-CALLED NIGHTSONG. THE NIGHTSONG IS NO MORE!

The Nightsong, Dame Aylin, is the daughter of Selune, blessed with immortal life, she was caged in the Shadowfell so that her life force could be siphoned off by Ketheric Thorm. And boy she is pissed. The moment she is released, she dons her armor and without a moments’ hesitation flies away to kill Ketheric. We hastily escape the Shadowfell, and notice that Shadowheart is stunned. After a few moments she reveals how vengeful her goddess can be:

I tried to leave… but Shar blocked me. Punished me for failing her. I thought I knew the limit of pain that the incurable wound could inflict, but I had no idea. It felt like I was suffering the agony of a thousand people, all at once. My blood was boiling, my hair was on fire. I thought I’d claw my face off with the pain… But then she released me - banished me more like. She said I was an outcast, that all of her children would know me and revile me.

After we kill Ketheric, Shadowheart can at last get some answers from the Nightsong.

There is nothing I can tell you that you do not already know yourself. They trained you well, trained you hard. Chiselled away any part of you that did not fit their plan. They made you forget. When you freed me, you severed a bond between me and that dog, Thorm. A bond of pain - his, inflicted on me. When I laid eyes on you, I sensed a similar bond. You, tethered to two others, someplace distant. Let me help you remember.

We see Shadowheart’s earliest vision again. The wolf that tried to kill her? That was her father trying to prevent her abduction by the Sharrans. What is even more surprising is that he is alive somewhere alongside Shadowheart’s mother.

No, it can’t be. I’m an orphan.

And who told you that? Your adoptive family? You are not to blame. You were young, impressionable. They took you because they wanted to break and remake you. But you are a child no longer. You are a woman. One who knows what must be done. Your parents are with your abductors. You will need to return to their lair. But be warned. You may have once thought of them as comrades, mentors, friends, even lovers. They will all be enemies now. You have been forewarned for what is to come, but not yet forearmed.

She presents the Spear of the Night. But how? Shadowheart cast it into the Shadowfell.

I was able to retrieve it, before it sank too far into Shar’s umbral domain. Shar is quick to discard whatever she has no use for. I think you know that well enough. But I felt it call to me as I took flight. Whatever Shar calls her own, Selune has equal claim to. They are one and the same. Their power is matched… and mirrored. Take it - you will find it useful. What you do with it… that will be up to you. Same as before.

Armed again with Shar’s spear, but this time blessed by the Moonmaiden as well, Shadowheart is whole again. The darkness once more balanced by light. Now she knows what needs to be done. To Baldur’s Gate, to save her parents. There in the House of Grief we meet the mother superior, Viconia DeVir. Here we can learn of the true extent of Shar’s malice and all of those who follow her. Viconia has the audacity to ask us to surrender Shadowheart to her, in exchange for her and Shar’s help in the battles to come. After we eventually defeat her, and the whole temple of Shar followers in battle, tells Shadowheart the truth about her parents.

They are right through that door, in the Chamber of Loss. Where they have been all along. You saw them many times, only we made you forget. But they didn’t forget. They watched, as we moulded you. They watched. They wept. They bled - often at your hand. It may not be a happy reunion, but it will be a memorable one.

Why? Why me? Why all this effort?

Lady Shar commanded me. And I obeyed. I do not question - I merely act as she wills me to. I had an enclave in Waterdeep, you know. Much grander than this. Shar ordered me to raze it, kill all who followed me - claim they betrayed me, when in fact I slew those who showed nothing but loyalty. Shar had me do that, and I did. To cover my tracks. To usher in you. You became my mission. To take a child of Selune’s, and turn her over to Lady Shar. To show that all light fades, and darkness will prevail in the end. All this was to make you into what the Dark Lady needed you to be - the planning. The training. Those deaths in Waterdeep. It was all to groom you replace me at her right hand side. And still, you threw it away.

Dame Aylin was right. Shar would discard everyone and everything when they are no longer of use. An enclave of devout followers slaughtered, just so she could spite her sister by corrupting one of her followers. Worse yet, she forced Shadowheart to torture her parents for decades. When we meet her parents in the Chamber of Loss, bound by chains we understand what Shar did with her mark on Shadowheart. The wound that would not heal, that would cause her pain from time to time is her bond to her parents. When they are tortured she is as well.

Arnell Hallowleaf and Emmeline Hallowleaf have been bound by chains in the depths of the Sharran temple, since Shadowhearts abduction, which was more than forty years ago. They held on in hopes of seeing their daughter Jenevelle return. Yes, Shadowheart’s true name is Jenevelle Hallowleaf. When we want to free them Shar comes to gloat:

It is not over. You see? It matters not if you raze this place, if you slay every one of your brothers and sisters. That was never where my power resided. Every time you try to step away from me, every time you try to reach for Selune, my hold on you bites deeper. If you had learned, if you had obeyed, there would be no pain. But you struggle on. You make things worse for yourself. And for them.

Shadowheart had enough, it is time to free her parents, Shar be damned, but her father interjects:

You cannot. We are still bound to you. You cannot both free us and free yourself from her curse. The Moonmaiden needs you more than she needs us. You are the future - you must return to the fold. We are the past. And our duty is almost done. Shar will never admit defeat - not until she has stolen one last thing from you. We cannot allow your future to be her last prize - not after all your mother and I have endured to see you again. Your companion understands, I think. Help her, please. Help her see what must be done.

Shadowheart has a choice to make. Release her parents’ spirits back to the Moonmaiden and be free from Shar’s curse, or free them, but stay cursed as long as they draw breath.

No, I can’t. I came here for them.

But her incredibly wise father interjects again:

And you did. You found us. All these years, that dream kept us going, that you would break free. No matter what they made you do to us, we knew you were still in there. You’ve saved us. Now save yourself. You’ll be out of Shar’s reach, and we’ll be at peace.

But I only just found you again, after all this time. I can’t lose you again.

We’ll still be with you. By the Moonmaiden’s grace, we’ll never be far. Please, Jenevelle.

Is this truly what you want?

It is what we need, all of us. You were meant to be a guiding light for Selune’s faithful, but they robbed you from us. Now that can be righted, and we can rest.

Goodbye.

Not goodbye. Not even close.

Whit some magic from Selune, Shadowheart chooses to free her parents. They turn into tiny little white orbs of light.

Moon motes. They bring Selune’s light to dark places and offer guidance to those in need. My parents are watching over me. Let’s leave this place. There’s nothing more for me here.

When we ask her how should we call her now? Jenevelle or Shadowheart?

Shadowheart, still. I can’t run away from who I was for all this time. Besides, there’s something fitting to it - you can’t cast a shadow without some light.

After all this, one night we meet Shadowheart before an abadonded symbol of Selune. She breaks down and cries for the first time she can remember. Loosing her parent right after she has found them… Not for long she regains he composure and when asked what happens next she says one nugget of wisdom we all should hear more often.

We carry on - it’s all we can do.

Lae’zel of K’liir

Vlaakith requires everything of her children. I can’t count how many bruises I’ve inflicted, can’t measure how much blood I’ve drawn in the Undying Queen’s name. I know only blood-red and death-black. My mind is silver and my body steel. I am what I must be, say what I must be, to survive every beast I face and every wound I bear.

The Githyanki people hate the mind flayer race with a vengeance. They have been their slaves for thousands of years. Then one day a special Githyanki called Gith was born. She had the ability to disrupt the mind flayer hivemind communication network. With this power the Githyanki finally broke free, and they have single-handedly ended the mind flayer empire that has subjugated the known universe. However, to ensure their victory and to give their race an edge for all the fights to come, mother Gith has made a pact , with the archdevil Tiamat, the dragon queen, allowing the Githyanki to ride her red dragons into battle whenever the need arose. The details of the pact are not know, but mother Gith was never heard from again. In her place Tiamat’s envoy proclaimed themselves the first Vlaakith, and their line has been ruling the Githyanki ever since. Matriarchs of the Githyanki people, their words are gospel. Fullfiling a Vlaakith’s demands is as if one served mother Gith herself. Thousands of years have passed, yet the Githyanki could not step beyond their hatred. They have organized their society around military proves. Only the strongest may and should survive. Weakness of any kind is unacceptable and is punishable by death. Killing a ghaik, a mindflayer in their tongue, is a rite of passage into adulthood. They follow the 10'000 protocols with religious fervor, specifying how a Githyanki should behave and should believe.

The current Vlaakith is the 157th in line and is called Vlaakith the Undying or the Lich Queen. According to the Githyanki she has ascended mortality and claimed undeath, and has reigned for a thousand years. And there is no greater honor for a Githyanki then to ascend and become part of the personal guard of a Vlaakith.

When we meet Lae’zel we have already been infected by a mind flayer parasite and would turn into full fledged mind flayers in a matter of days through a process called ceromorphosis:

It starts with a fever and memory loss. Then you start to hallucinate. Your hair falls out and you bleed from every orifice. Your bones will change form. Your jaw will split to allow room for four great tentacles. All skin will turn to gore, and be shed to reveal new flesh underneath. Then you have ceased to exist, and a mind flayer is born.

Lae’zel is rude and callous as we would expect for being raised as she has:

The pupils themselves culled the weak from their ranks. I myself felled four of my own classmates once K’liir had a hundred times circled Toril.

Yet, she is deathly afraid. She spent her entire life sacrificing everything for Vlakith, so one day she may ascend. To fail and even worse, turn into a mind flayer is beyond terrible. She is in fact so afraid, that on the first sight of sickness she would offer to kill us all and then herself just so that we do not turn. This is why she is hellbent on finding a Créche, a githyanki stronghold, and be rid of the parasite by a machine built just for this purpose called a zaith’isk.

One of the first things she says at camp is:

A fine evening, don’t you think? The moonlight shines warmly on us. The breeze caresses our faces. Hideous. All of it. Would that I were doing battle up there, among the Tears.

Lae’zel is an incredible character. Despite all the top level rudeness and callousness, she is kind and caring, and even stronger than it initially seems. We can learn most about this while romancing her. A matter in which she expresses her interest with blatant directness.

I have a confession. I was too hasty to judge you. I thought you witless, gutless, unimpressively bland. Now, well - you’ve earned my respect, and more still. You’ve proven your wits. You are efficient and dominant, in and out of battle. You’ve proven your courage. I swear, you would tear the horns off one dragon to plunge into another. And you’re hardly bland. Your scent alone is enough to make my neck sweat and my hairs stand on end. I want to taste you. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps later. But I want it all the same.

If we indulge in her proposition, we will initially see that she only wants sex and nothing more. Even the concept of cuddling is completely foreign to her:

Chk. Overheated grappling, that wastefully eats into time better spent resting our muscles.

Lae’zel is ruthless in battle, but does not cling to resentment or seeks needless retribution. We can observe this when her argument with Shadowheart eventually escalates into a duel to the death. Since Shadowheart has no real chance against Lae’zel, she tries to murder her in her sleep. If we manage to defuse the situation, Lae’zel will comment on the event as if this were the natural order of the world:

It is over, where I am concerned. It is through conflict that we strengthen our bonds.

Eventually we find a githyanki patrol and observe how ruthlessly they murdered a bunch of people in search of a weapon. Lae’zel unfazed approaches then to inquire about the nearest créche. The leader of the patrol, Kith’rak Voss, Knight Supreme. The queen’s silver, the queen’s sword berates her immediately, basically telling her she should be grateful she is still alive (just for talking to him, without permission) then describes that they are looking for a weapon polyhedric in shape, that is likely with the ones who survived the nautoloid crash. In short, they are looking for us and Shadowheart’s artifact. You would think Lae’zel would immediately tell such a high ranking githyanki that we have the weapon they seek, dooming us to death. Yet she doesn’t, she knows of the possible consequences, and she will not betray us.

Eventually we reach the githyanki créche. If we choose to go there that is, which given what we have seen seems like suicide, but we want to be rid of the parasite and have no other options left. In the créche we find this so called zaith’isk. Either we or Lae’zel sits in the chair. The purification begins, but throughout it, we quickly understand that the device isn’t meant to extract the parasite, rather the memories of the host, then erasing their mind altogether. There is no purification, only purging. The process eventually ends in the destruction of the device and the first shock to Lae’zels world:

What madness is this? The zaith’isk nearly destroyed me! I AM GITHYANKI. I WILL NOT BE GHAIK!

But she does not want to accept that purification was a lie:

I followed protocol. I kept to my faith. Yet the zaith’isk might have killed me. The ghustil tampered with it. Traitor - and there may be more still! This must be why the Inquisitor’s come.

Then, if we seek out this inquisitor, he will demand that we hand over the artifact. Lae’zel initially wants to comply, but if we remind her of the zaith’isk, she will choose to stand by us knowing full well, this may be our final moments. Then we may speak with an apparition of Vlaakith, who is not a little bit bothered by us slaughtering her inquisitor. Here we learn that the artifact is The Astral Prism, an ancient gith artifact from the times when they have defeated the Illithid Empire. Vlaakith claims there is a presence in the prism, an agent of the Grand Design whom we must kill, in exchange she will cleanse and ascend Lae’zel. We enter the prism and meet the Dream Visitor. The entity who has been protecting us from the Absolute all this time. Upon talking to the Dream Visitor we will learn why Vlaakith wants it dead:

Vlaakith is lying to her people. She pretends to know how Gith destroyed the mind flayer empire. In truth, she knows nothing. If the Illithid Empire were ever to return, she would be incapable of stopping them. And if her people found out about her impotence, there would be mutiny, revolution, the end of her rule. But that very power - the power to resist illithid control - which Vlaakith only pretends to know, is how I’ve been protecting you.

Well, Lae’zel is not pleased with the results and demands to enter our memories, so she can see for herself.

Vlaakith tacki na’zin. I see only - only madness. Vlaakith bears the full might of Tu’narath’s arms, and the covenant of the great Mother Gith! Tsk’va! We are leaving this place - now.

She sees the twinkle of truth despite her indoctrination. Even though, understandably the revelations shook her:

I followed your path. What good, this heart of stone, for it to be shattered? She tests me. A trial of faith - K’liir prepared me. ‘Only the heaviest souls soar to the Astral.’

She isn’t ready to let go. Kith’rak Voss comes to us and begs Lae’zel to allow him to aid her. He knows we carry the Astral Prism, and he knows the entity inside is protecting us. He isn’t ready to tell us what this entity is, but if it chose us, Kith’rak will aid us whatever must be done.

The Prism’s tenant alone has the power to end Vlaakith’s tyranny. I’ve sought their freedom for aeons.

Then we also get confirmation on what we have already seen:

Lies, Lae’zel - every last one. There is no purification, no ascension. The zaith’isk does not purify - it extracts memory and kills the infected. Nor does the lich queen glorify the ascended. She feeds on most all of them to grow her power and pursue godhood.

Finally, Lae’zel starts to understand:

‘Vlaakith’ka sivim hrath krash’ht. Only in Vlaakith may we find light.’ These were the first words I ever read on tir’su slate. But they are no mere aphorism. They are law, they are creed - the root from which the ten-thousand protocols stem. ‘Forsake one protocol, and forsake Vlaakith. Forsake Vlaakith, and be the blood and meat which sates her dragons.’ If Voss speaks true - if ascension is a lie, if tadpole purification is a fairy tale, then I have not sinned against Vlaakith… She has sinned against me.

Her whole world is crumbling down. Everything she ever knew seems to be a lie, but she does not despair. She will find out the truth one way or another.

By this point Lae’zel seems to be falling in love with our avatar, and tries to resolve these feelings by the only possible solution she understands, combat:

I am obsessed by the ground under your feet and the wind over your head. I see your face just before sleep and after I wake. I ask myself: are you worthy? Zhak vo’n’ash duj. There is only one way for you to prove it. We fight. I test you in battle. Dance with me. Bleed with me. Bruise me so that you might possess me.

Then she stops the fight:

No more. I can’t bear it. I’ve torn flesh from monsters and men. I’ve laughed as they suffered. But you - I don’t want to hurt you - I want to protect you. For you to protect me. Zhak vo’n’ash duj. Source of my bruises.

Then at some point the Dream Visitor will call for our aid and summon us into the Prism again. There we learn two things. First, the Dream Visitor is a mind flayer called The Emperor and second he isn’t the only one in there. The other entity inside the prism is whom Vlaakith is really after, the one and only son of mother Gith, Orpheus the Prince of the Comet. He has the power to disturb the mind flayer hivemind, and he is the one The Emperor is using to protect us all. Orpheus is bound by infernal chains, we couldn’t free him even if we wanted to, worse his hatred for illithids would force him to kill us all.

Now Lae’zel knows the truth:

Every word Voss spoke, he spoke true. Orpheus is the living proof of the queen’s lies, and the living weapon that conquered our ghaik slavers. One word from his lips, and the people would doubt. Two words, and they would rage. Three words, and they would bow to the True Heir. If the githyanki are to be free, the Prince of the Comet must lead the way.

It is time we met with Voss again. We meet him pleading to the devil Raphael. Begging to give him the Orphic Hammer, the only tool that can break infernal chains, the only tool that could free Orpheus. What does the devil want in return? The Crown of Karsus would be sufficient. Why? He is not even subtle about it, to dominate and unite all the hells under his command. He promises under his rule the hells would not leak out into the living world, but after all we have seen, who would ever trust a devil?

Before the final battles against the elder brain would commence, Lae’zel will wake us again, at dawn, with something that we must see.

Watch. I used to hate that sight. The glowing sky, the long shadows, the fading stars. I lived for the red of blood and the black of death. Now I see the colours between. Look at the sun. What do you see?

Hope. Life. A future worth fighting for.

Yes. And something else too. Beauty. The dawn was my torment. Rustling leaves, agony. I couldn’t wait to escape this place. Now, I revel in it. I revel in you. You showed me the between and beyonds. Between war and peace, beyond passion and obsession. Most importantly - you showed me freedom. When all this is over, will you stay with me? For good?

Lae’zel has come full circle. She understood that life was about more than just combat and service, she understood that love is not weakness but strength, and most importantly, she understood that she doesn’t have to be alone. That she shouldn’t be.

One way or another we get the hammer and with it, we can free Orpheus, at which point The Emperor forsakes us. Orpheus isn’t too happy about how things stand. The Netherbrain is beyond our capabilities and someone has to become an illithid.

After defeating the Netherbrain there are a number of endings for Lae’zel. She leaves alone or with Orpheus to liberate her people, or stays with you. In my mind either you or Orpheus had to become a mind flayer so is best for Lae’zel to go and liberate her people. Before she says a few final words to you:

Zhak von’n’fynh duj - source of my joy. Without you, I wouldn’t have known warmth - only ice and fire. I can never forget you. Your name will be etched in our slates. You will be called Mla’ghir - liberator.

The Dark Urge

The Dark Urge is a special one. Unlike all the other characters the Dark Urge cannot be a companion. It can only be a player character, and if not selected as one, it will never appear in the game. It only has a past of mistakes that haunts them every step of the way and an urge pushing them to commit heinous acts. What it did, or who it was is a mystery as it doesn’t remember. All it really has, is the here and now. It can make choices now, regardless of its past or perhaps despite of it.

Since there is really no character there, we can’t do for it what we did for the others. The Dark Urge, in my mind, can only be interpreted as a metaphor. Each of us, have some part we aren’t proud of, each of us have our demons we have to battle every day, and it seems to me that in this regard for sure we all are a little like The Dark Urge. We have a past we cannot change, but we also have the here and now that we can. If you haven’t already I implore you, try The Dark Urge and just substitute your demons to the ones it is fighting.

As an example I will share you mine. For one, it may help to see this and second I would like to remember this journey as well. I had a hard life, my dad is an alcoholic and left me when my parents divorced when I was eight. My mother was overprotective of me. I could never go anywhere alone or could stay for long. Couldn’t really make friends, because this was so shameful. Then, eventually gave up on even trying. Depression gripped me and I have spent more than 15 years alone either wishing I would just die already or in apathy. Always the questions at the back of my mind would scratch away at my sanity. Why do I have to suffer? Never hurt anybody. Never stole, never cheated. Why can’t I have something? Why did I deserve any of this to happen? Like so I carry decades or resentment, hatred and anger. Nay, fury. Never hurt anybody, but had the urge to do so many times it is beyond remembrance. I could imagine hurting people in such frighteing detail, I could almost feel the scenes unfolding before my minds eyes. Yet, I have never failed. I refused to indulge the demon at every turn and I will continue to do so until the day I die. There is no path based on hatred that could ever lead anywhere worth exploring. My hatred is real, and it is okay, but I am the one making the choices here and I choose to struggle on, despite all my deprivation.

This is why when I saw The Dark Urge have the urges to hurt somebody, or do something vile it clicked with me immediatelly. In fact I choose The Dark Urge on my first playthrough, which, because of this will stay with me forever. I knew I would resist the urge whatever may come, whatever sacrifices I would have to make. Never indulged in any, and when I was forced to hurt Alfira, I waited for the others judgement. Should I falter, I should bear all the consequences. Made the character really mine.

During the story, we will learn, all of this is our creation. We were the ones who stole the Crown of Karsus. We are the ones who have enslaved the Elder Brain. We planned to infect everybody with a tadpole so that we could make an illithid army so that we could subjugate the universe. All of this was our doing, in the service of Bhaal, The Lord of Murder. We are the greatest monster of them all. But we were deceived. Orin the Red, another Bhaal cultist, stabbed us in the head, so that she could take our place. That is why we don’t know anything about our past.

Eventually we meet Orin, and she demands a duel to the death. After we defeat her an apparition of Bhaal addresses us from a pool of blood and demands that we make a choice. Either accept his gift and become his murderer once more or reject him. As you may have expected there was but one choice for me. And I have rejected him. Bhaal in his vengeance ripped out my soul. I died, and I was okay with it. Didn’t think the game was about to truly end, but if it were, that would have been okay too. Instead something happened, so satisfying, that I will never forget it.

The narrator spoke in her lovely voice:

For the first time in over a century, silence falls over the Bhaal Temple. No chants, no screams, no prayers. In the end, your own death brought you more joy than any you wrought on this land. You are slipping into peaceful oblivion. But your journey is not over.

Then Whitters appears, who has never even left our camp before:

Thou has defied Bhaal, thy liege and father, and in doing so hast earned a place among champions and heroes. But, alas, thy courage was in opposition to the divine cosmology that bound thee to the Lord of Murder. Thou art now faithless - godless - and doomed to wander the Fugue Plane for eternity. I will not permit that, though all the powers of life and death dictate that it should be so. I, too, still hold some power, and I invest a portion of it in thee, who hath challenged the gods and now liveth to tell of it. Thy fight is not over, and it is thy fight, for one who can look upon Bhaal and oppose him can survive any crisis. So rise, Challenger of Gods, and prepare for battle once more. Death will not claim thee whilst I endure.

When we ask him how is this even possible, he says:

Bhaal tried to extinguish thee, but his wrath is imprecise. He only succeeded in killing the part of thee he knew. The Urge that drove thee to terrible acts. The spark of brutality that made thee his. But there is a new part of you that hath grown during thy travels. That part, Bhaal could not extinguish. And so instead of destroying thee, he hath made thee anew. The heart of a saviour hath overshadowed the mind of a murderer. Thou has vanquished thine Urge. Today, thou art born anew. Greet the bloodless dawn, child of none.

Can’t describe to you how cathartic this moment was for me. While I don’t believe in gods or fate, the general ideas resonate with me. I like to believe that there is divinity in the world, that it is all around us and we only need to choose to aim for it.

As it was, so it is again. A hero has risen from a legacy of death.

Frankly, this last sentence Withers spoke is true for the human race in general. From time to time, from the legacy of death, a hero rises to put things right.

Notable non companion characters

Raphael & Hope

My, my what manner of place is this? A path to redemption, or a road to damnation? Hard to say, for your journey is just beginning.

Are the first things Raphael says when we meet him. Just by his mannerisms one can tell he is up to no good. Then we get transported into his home, which he has named:

The House of Hope. Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed - lavishly.

Pretty aptly named house for one whose business model rests on exploiting other’s hope, a devil. A fact that he is all to keen to reveal:

What’s better than a devil you don’t know? A devil you do. Am I a friend? Potentially. An adversary? Conceivably. But a savior? That’s for certain.

He says he wants to help us, but why would he?

Because my compassion is boundless. I stride among the needy, giving comfort where I can. And you’re in dire need. One skull, two tenants, and no solution in sight. I could fix it all (snaps fingers) like that.

Of course no sane person can trust a devil, so when we reject his initial offering, he gets a bit frustrated:

Try to cure yourself. Shop around - beg, borrow, and steal. Exhaust every possibility until none are left. And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair - that’s when you’ll come knocking on my door. Hope. Hahaha! Such a tease.

Unsurprisingly not soon after we learn that the devil was lying all along. He can’t cure us at all, and he knows it too. Our tadpoles are enhanced with Nethereese magic, not even a god could cure us. But a devil doesn’t care, he makes the bargain, and it is up to us to accept or deny it.

Throughout the game we will see him make offers and even see the results of some. It is particularly hard to see him put his claws into a little tiefling girl refugee, Mol, the survivor of Elturel, bruised and battered, already missing an eye. She is holding together a band of kids, and they survive by stealing what they can. Not the best, and she knows it, however there is nothing better. We don’t ever learn what he offered her, but we fear she will take it. What we know for sure is that Raphael definitely has no good intentions for her either:

What a lovely specimen she is. A blushing apple, begging to be plucked. But don’t you worry about Mol - it goes without saying she still has the unconditional freedom to choose the only option she has left.

When we meet him at the Mausoleum in the Shadow Cursed Lands he warns us of a creature:

There is a creature that lurks in silence and shadow - a creature who, like me, is very much of the infernal persuasion. Should it make its way out through the very doors you are about to brazenly swing open, you’ll have unleashed a pestilence upon this realm. In truth, it is carnage incarnate. So if you meet the devil of which I speak, kill it. Consider no other course of action. Do not underestimate this opponent. At best you will have the blink of an eye to strike. Strike first. Strike true. Defy the odds, for they are distinctly in its favour. That much I owe the bastard to concede. After all, if there is one rule I hold dear, it’s that one must always give the devil his due.

Well, he does speak some truth, but as it seems to be the pattern, not near half of it. The creature inside is Yurgir, an Orthon, one of the generals of hell’s armies. And would you be surprised to learn that he was contracted by Raphael himself about a hundred years ago after the Sharrans unleashed the shadow on the land? His contract was to kill everyone in the Grand Mausoleum:

Spill all the blood sworn to the night. Silence all prayers; smother each rite. Wander Shar’s halls; hungry to slay; Leave no Justiciar alive to obey. Leave none to hear it, then be set free; This song is your oath, swear, swear to me.

Everybody in the Mausoleum has been butchered, yet Yurgir remains. Why is that? Raphael tricked him. According to the contract he cannot leave until everyone is dead within the halls or by hell’s rules he would become Raphael’s slave. If we look around hard enough we can find a number of rats and if we happen to kill enough of them, they will start attacking us. Hundreds upon hundreds of rats. After a while they combine and the final remaining Justiciar in the Mausoleum takes shape. Then to no-one’s surprise we can learn that Raphael gave the spell to this last Justiciar, when he witnessed all his brethren being butchered by Yurgir. Allowing him to choose the only option he had left, and splitting his mind and body into many.

When Raphael finally reveals to us that he wants the Crown of Karsus for the Orphic hammer, we can be pretty sure that whatever may be in the contract, should we take it, Raphael would eventually win. As Wyll has warned us, the devil will only require what we are least ready to part with and then more still. We cannot take his deal, we have seen now thrice how malicious he is, if we ever needed any convincing of this.

Thankfully we don’t have to make a deal with the devil. We can just steal the hammer from his House of Hope, just as the Crown was stolen from Mephistopheles. Easier said than done. Penetrating the hells, breaking into a devil’s home, stealing his most valuable asset. So naturally, as the true heroes we are, that is what we do.

At the beginning of our arguably most perilous quest in the game we meet a character right after entering The House of Hope. A woman half mad, swinging wildly between coherence and madness. When asked who she is she says:

Who am I? It’s my favourite question. I scream it into the dark while I sleep, and whisper it to my memories when I wake. I’m the thing that kills you, and the only reason you’re alive. Made by a promise, undone by the truth. A handshake, a hug, the first beat of a newborn’s heart. I am Hope. What little is left of her. A GUTTERING CANDLE IN A UNIVERSE OF NIGHT. I’m not much a friend to anyone anymore. But I could use a friend myself. Do you want a friend to guide you through this madhouse?

She is a bit unhinged, not surprising, as we later learn Raphael has captured her long long ago and kept torturing her ever since. Breaking Hope would be the most satisfying thing to him, but he just couldn’t manage it so far. In her rambling Hope says:

But I like you. I know I do, I think I do, I hope I do. I just need to ask one question, and I’ll know for sure. Can you save me? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

When we unquestionably agree she shares the plan:

All right. You have to listen very very very closely. I will say this only once. Find the KEY. Take the hammer. Smash my chains. Find the key. Take the HAMMER. Smash my chains. Find the key. Take the hammer. Smash my CHAINS.

After reclaiming the hammer and smashing her chains, when we are about to leave Raphael appears, and he isn’t very happy.

There are many things in your world that I loathe. Litters of kittens, chattering children - the noise and the chaos of it all. In my world - in my HOUSE - there is order, and there are rules. You have broken the most important rule of all, and committed the cardinal sin. You have brought the chaos of your world into mine. I will not abide it.

Then he addresses Hope as well:

Oh, Hope, you are such a piteous thing. All it takes is a crumb from the table, and you forget the centuries of starvation. This insolence has earned you centuries more.

And then again to us:

It’s the fatal flaw of mortalkind. Take away their free will, and they call you a tyrant. Allow them to indulge it, and they become tyrants. You would have been heroes if you’d only dealt fairly with me. Instead, you’re not so different to doomed Karsus, over-reaching your limits, and burning your world to ash.

But Hope interjects:

WRONG WRONG WRONG. They will save their world and smash you to smithereens.

One of the hardest battles in the game ensues, but with Hope on our side, we win, and can witness something special, after we tell Hope to come with us:

And go where? I don’t think I quite know how to be anywhere else but here anymore. With a lick of paint and a thorough cleaning, this could be a lovely little house. And I can hardly leave - after all, who would ever want to think of Hell without Hope?

Summary

As you may have seen, even with my shoddy writing, the characters and the story are amazingly well done. They are all archetipical. Not sure the writers aimed at this or not, either way they have achieved a feet not often seen. In fact I don’t think I have witnessed such literaly depth since The Lord of The Rings. Truly if a story could/should continue, this is one I would like to experience.

Now that I am done writing this, which took me at least 60 hours spread over 2 months I have to say, I loved every moment of it. Loved every character, even Astarion, because every one of them, had some lesson hidden embededd into them. Every one of them stood for something. Somehow I can’t help but cry when I re-read their stories. Who they are, what they have done and why. It feels so real. While it wasn’t that deeply integrated Karlach’s story touched me the most. Maybe because on some level I had a similar journey.

However, even though it isn’t even really part of the main narrative, I truly believe, the story of Hope and Raphael is by far the best one of them all. In fact I think, it is one of the best if not the best piece of writing I have ever had the pleasure enjoying.

With this, thank you Larian Studios and a special thanks to all the writers! You all have done something spectacular!