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blackjackkent · 11 seconds

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god I fuckign love ocs. my characters. my friend's characters. the characters of mutuals ive never spoken to. the characters of artists ive followed and maybe spoken to a little more. the characters of complete strangers I see in passing and think "aw that's cool". if you have ten fans I am one if you have one fan it is me etc etc. I love you

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blackjackkent · 28 minutes

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Well, all that was awful, but on a lighter note, Buddy showed up!

This actually happened during a long rest inside the creche proper but I was busy having Rakha make ill-advised social decisions. I'm also kind of entertained by the idea of Buddy showing up while Rakha is on her way back to her bedroll after her shouting match with Lae'zel in the previous drabble post. XD

Consequently, Rakha is VERY tense and definitely almost lashes out with a kick before she realizes who he is and what's happening - a fact made worse by the fact that this time Buddy arrives bearing the distinct smell of... blood.

Narrator: the cub pecks at a crimson splash on his leg.

For a long moment Rakha is utterly still, fighting down the violent urge roused by that scent of blood. It is the same little creature she let into the camp before. Like the dog - a warm presence, calm. Wyll liked it. The tension eases slowly out of her hands and her jaw.

She crouches slowly to the creature's height, clicks her tongue softly as she has heard Wyll do to call Scratch.

Whisper to calm the creature.

Narrator: The cub looks at you with glistening eyes. With a sad hoot, he holds out his paw, he holds out his paw, revealing a wound.

[MEDICINE] Attempt to heal the injury.

Rakha knows no healing magic, not really. But she has seen Shadowheart cast healing spells. She knows what the Weave looks like as it shifts in such castings. Here outside of combat, with the time to think about it, she makes an attempt to imitate those particular energies...and is pleased to see the wound close over. It's not a precise healing by any stretch, but the bleeding has stopped.

(The intense scent of it fades as well, and she feels her mind clear a little, settling back on her heels and watching the animal thoughtfully.)

Narrator: As the wound closes, the cub begins testing his weight on the leg.

The cub hoots happily and begins to bounce around Rakha's feet, nuzzling his head against her thigh. She feels a strange warmth go through her, a soothing of the agitation in her head, much as she feels when her hands bury in Scratch's fur. She crouches down, runs her fingertips through the soft downy feathers on the cub's back, and it gives an excited squawk.

"Cute," Wyll says softly. "Til it grows up and gnaws your arm off at least." But he's smiling, a soft grin watching Rakha and the cub play. Perhaps he recognizes, too, that Rakha is gentler in this moment than he sees her otherwise. Perhaps he agrees it's best to keep the little beast around.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #leaving it there for tonight #more tomorrow i think! voss and off to the underdark c:

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blackjackkent · 50 minutes

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I can't find the link now, but there was a post going around at one point stating that Lae'zel has every right to have a category 5 meltdown after the creche. And I have been thinking a lot about that in the context of Rakha's playthrough specifically...

------

Rakha sleeps, as always, restlessly. Her body aches from the recent revivification, and her mind is in its usual turmoil. With the return to the material plane from the Astral, the sense of peace has vanished, leaving her once again with the everpresent images of blood and blood and blood and blood...

So she is awake and pacing the camp when she hears it - muffled sobs, quiet, almost too low to hear, coming from Lae'zel's tent.

Rakha hesitates. It is none of her concern, she thinks to herself bluntly. She can no longer trust or rely on Lae’zel, not when the creche proved to be nothing more than a trap. She does not care how Lae'zel feels about Vlaakith’s lies, or about the destruction of the monastery and those within.

She does not care.

She thinks this, and then she goes to the tent anyway and pushes open the flap. "Lae'zel," she says, her voice low.

Lae'zel is hunched in the corner of the tent. The pillow from her bedroll is stuffed in front of her face to muffle any sound, but her shoulders are shaking and she is trembling all over. She jerks, startled, at Rakha's voice; her head lifts involuntarily, revealing her gold cat-like eyes rimmed with red.

"Leave me, t'rac'shka," she snaps weakly. "I have no need of you."

Rakha doesn't move, just watches her silently.

"Go," Lae'zel repeats. Her fingers fist into the pillow and she tosses it aside with a sudden, spasmodic motion. "Go!" She leans forward, grabs Rakha by the collar. "Am I not shamed enough? Leave me!"

Rakha waits, expecting to be pushed backward out of the tent. But Lae'zel doesn't move, just kneels there with her hand on Rakha's collar, her shoulders hitching with strangled breaths. "You do not understand," she mutters hoarsely. "You cannot possibly. You know nothing, remember nothing. You cannot know what it is to lose the whole of one's meaning in an instant - you have never had any!"

Rakha's lips tighten. She can feel the beast urge wake in response to the tightness at her throat, and her anger resonates with it. "I understand enough," she snaps back. "I understand that you failed us."

"I have failed no one," Lae'zel snarls. "I followed the protocol as I was taught. I led you in safety to where I thought was best. I would have cleansed us all!"

"You told me you knew things for certain. I had no other light to follow!" Rakha is dimly surprised to feel her own voice lifting in volume and anger. Her own sense of betrayal and deep fear has been lurking under the surface all day and it rises now hearing its echo in Lae'zel. "I believed you!"

Lae'zel laughs, a harsh bitter sound without humor. "And I called you zhak vo'n'ash duj. We were both of us mistaken. But you will move on without a backward glance, and I must drown in my own shame alone. GO!"

She hurls Rakha suddenly backwards so she hits the ground on her rear outside the tent. "Go to Wyll. Go to Astarion. Go to Karlach and be cooked in your own juice for all I care. Go to who you please, and leave me be!"

The words are pouring out of her now, an avalanche of emotion long repressed. She climbs from the tent and stands over Rakha's prostrate body with an air of inarticulate fury. Her fists clench and unclench at her sides.

"You say I failed you. Do you not understand how you have failed me?" she cries. There is no discretion now; Rakha is sure the whole camp can hear her. "I am hshar'lak because of you!"

"You made your own choices," Rakha rasps out. "I demanded nothing."

"You could have killed her!" Lae'zel snaps. "A blade through the 'guardian's' belly and the matter settled, and my ascension... my ascension..." Her voice falters.

"You would have died," Rakha says flatly. She pushes herself to a sitting position, then onto her feet, looking down now at Lae'zel from her greater height. "There is no ascension. She would have killed you. You know this."

"Easier to die than to be lost as I am!" Lae'zel's eyes narrow, and she suddenly hurls herself forward, both fists lifting to lash out towards Rakha's face.

Instinct takes over. Rakha catches Lae'zel's hands at the wrists and twists; using the smaller woman's momentum, she spins Lae'zel completely around and pulls her to the floor. With one arm she locks Lae'zel's body in place; the other shifts to hold her hand at Lae'zel's jaw.

Kill... roars the beast urge in her head. A flick of the wrist, a snap of the neck...

With an effort that makes her teeth ache, Rakha holds the instinct at bay and goes completely still, holding Lae'zel in her arms. "Is this what you want?" she mutters against Lae'zel's ear. "Do you want me to kill you?"

Lae'zel doesn't answer. For a long moment there is only the sound of her breathing, harsh and tight between her teeth.

"Answer me." Rakha's hand flexes, tugging at Lae'zel's neck.

"No," Lae'zel whispers. "I want them to pay. I want all of them to pay."

Rakha's lips curl in a slight, savage smile, and she releases her grip, letting Lae'zel fall to the stone floor. "They will."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #bg3 drabble #bg3 fic #durge x lae'zel #sort of #i mean they're broken up but it's relationship drama still :P #today in rakha and lae'zel fully making each other worse #lol #both of them are not handling their problems well #lae'zel #bg3 durge

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blackjackkent · 2 hours

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So apparently there's actually Durge-specific narration for taking the Blood of Lathander without the crest (and thus triggering all the defense mechanisms).

Narrator: An ornate mace hovers before you, suspended in a shaft of brilliant light. A fist-sized piece of amber flecked with crimson is set in the handle, emitting a radiance all its own. [HISTORY - FAILED] This mace certainly has a very unusual design.

Reach into the light and take the mace.

Narrator: The glow around the mace sparkles with beautiful disaster. You recall all the measures meant to keep you from reaching this place. The brutal aches in your body yearn to take it, though you sense it will spell misfortune.

-----

Rakha HAS the crest and could take the mace safely if she wished, but I actually kind of really like this for her regardless.

We've already established pretty thoroughly that one of Rakha's greatest strengths is extrapolation. She was initially very curious about hearing about this special "blood" that the monastery kept locked away - because the Dark Urge in her always craves blood - but she is definitely easily able to make the leap that this is what those notes were talking about instead.

She also fully understands all the messages we've read indicating that anyone trying to take the mace without permission will trigger defenses that will flatten the place.

She also suddenly has a whole creche full of githyanki who hate her.

The connections seem pretty obvious, really. Take the mace, flatten the monastery, eliminate the angry gith.

(That it will be a triumph of chaos and death and deeply sate the beast in her brain is, of course, a side benefit. She would like to think that's not what's driving this decision... but she would be lying.)

Claim the mace and delight in its danger.

(LOL. Nobody liked that!)

The mace comes free with a sharp jerk from its moorings; she watches the dim snap through the Weave as it releases its hold on the artifact. The mace's handle feels oddly warm in her grip.

"What are you doing?!" she hears Wyll call from behind her - but it's muffled.

With rhythmic thunks, a piece of machinery switches on from somewhere underneath her. A forcefield sizzles into being, cutting her off from the others.

Powerful beams of light erupt from pillars around the room. The low thunks settle into a pulsing hum of energy. Rakha can feel the magic at work surging along her skin and through her blood.

A central beam of that pale light lances out through a portal at the end of the room - connecting into the dormant weapon Rakha saw on the monastery's roof.

Rakha can hear a new low whine added to the sudden cacophony as the weapon begins to realign itself, its mouth pointed downward into the stone of the monastery itself.

Narrator: Everything is in motion. All within these walls are doomed to destruction unless you act.

------

Hehehehe whoops. :D I literally didn't plan for Rakha to do this until this moment but it's kind of perfect. Simultaneously logical and batshit crazy which is basically Rakha's tagline.

We have four turns to figure out what to do here and get the fuck out. I gather from the state of play and a quick glance at Google that we can either destroy the pillars, disabling the weapon, or we can shoot out the power source for the forcefield, which is under the platform, and then make a run for it out the portal. (Rakha could also misty step or dimension door out of the forcefield but she doesn't have access to either of those.)

In the spirit of wanting Rakha to successfully continue her reign of chaos, we will have Wyll eldritch blast the power source for the forcefield and run.

This uh. Didn't work out so well the first time. Everyone got crushed because we need to get them not only out the portal but off the monastery building entirely before it explodes, and I lost a turn figuring out how to get Rakha out of the forcefield.

Second try!

Safe! Nope apparently this isn't far enough either. WTF.

[googles] OK apparently there's a different pathway out the front of the monastery that we should be taking instead?

Third try!

This time I managed to get Lae'zel and Wyll out and Rakha and Shadowheart got flattened.

I actually kind of like this as an end state, because Lae'zel is PISSED about the whole situation and and shouts about it as soon as the game is in a state to allow the cutscene. So it ends up reading like she dragged Rakha and Shadowheart's fried corpses back to camp, had Withers revive them, and then SCREAMED at them as soon as they woke up:

"TSK'VA! GITH M'ZATH'AK!" she bellows as Rakha blinks at her blearily, the resurrection magic slowly bleeding off her body. "Girtar'rac ne toruun! 'One theft consumes all'. Protocol four-hundred-two! Our greed reduced Creche Y'llek to rubble. Vlaakith, absolve my sin or skewer my heart! In each you might make me worthy!"

Rakha stares at her, utterly baffled by this anger, still dizzy from the resurrection and having trouble settling back into her body. "The creche has turned against us," she says bluntly. "Why should I care about them?"

"I care!" Lae'zel snarls. Rakha can hear the surge of pain under the words, the confused blend of loyalty and anger and despair. "Just because the zaith'isk failed, because Vlaakith has marked us, makes this no less of a tragedy. I do not expect you to mourn - but I will not tolerate your rejoicing either." She spits on the ground next to Rakha's feet. "Shka'keth. Next time, think twice before getting grabby with powerful relics in mysterious places."

She stalks off. Rakha looks after her with bewilderment. She is too confused even to feel the beast urge's satisfaction at all the death they have caused. She had thought, on some level, that Lae'zel too would see it as a killing with purpose. Lae'zel, after all, was betrayed by those people, by her entire race.

"I am not rejoicing," she mutters, though Lae'zel is now out of hearing range. "It was necessary."

"Was it?" Withers asks placidly at her side.

Rakha glares at him. "Do not test me, skeleton," she mutters. "I will yet find a way to end you as well."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #well that was a ride XD #sorry lae'zel

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blackjackkent · 3 hours

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Karlach comm from twitter. My addiction is being enabled

#karlach <3

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blackjackkent · 3 hours

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Realized as I stopped at camp post-Prism that we never onboarded Halsin! (Where "onboarding" means explaining about the everpresent bloodlust. XD )

"I think I might be sick beyond the tadpole. I'm getting worried..."

"Everything in your mind has been destroyed, from what I gathered. And from the path I see you on, you are doing well at picking up the pieces. I am here to be your ear, as you bear your burdens, and the arms that protect you, if you can shoulder them no more. I believe you when you tell me that your symptoms do not wholly align with the makings of the parasite. But until we remove it, I doubt we will be able to isolate the rest of your troubles."

Halsin is such a good dude. Rakha is a little skeptical that she is "doing well" at anything - keeping control of her life least of all - but it's a heartening statement anyway.

"Try as I may, I cannot stop thinking about death."

"A haunting has come upon you, but the first step is this admission you have now made. You will not walk alone into this night, remember that. If I had my fleet of druids and a month of hard research, perhaps I could help. But I'm no savant; for now I can only guarantee a cure for ceremorphosis."

Honestly, everyone takes Rakha's admissions about the Dark Urge pretty damn well under the circumstances. Halsin's reaction reminds her a little of Karlach's - the vibe of "the first step is admitting you have a problem."

The strange thing is that Rakha does recognize that she doesn't want to give in to all of the Urge's direction - but at the same time, it is a part of her, the only her that she knows. So her feelings about getting rid of it are...complicated.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge

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blackjackkent · 4 hours

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blackjackkent · 5 hours

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youtube

Literally everyone else: *phew* that was quite the unpleasant experience, but I'm no worse for wear 8D Thank you kindly! Cordial character-appropriate snark!

Minthara: My only fear in this life was falling into her clutches again and then I DID and I thought this time I would not survive her. She hurt me in ways I may NEVER recover. And the worst part is I can't even dismiss her as a unknowable monster because deep down I'm JUST LIKE HER and still would be if not for being shown this one random act of mercy by you.

FFFFFFUUUCK

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blackjackkent · 5 hours

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"Vlaakith. VLAAKITH! I have wielded your fury as a blade, roared your wrath as a dragon! You promised ascension, yet I crawl among my own people, low as an asp's belly! Shka'keth! I followed your path! What good this heart of stone, for it to be shattered?"

Rakha listens silently as Lae'zel paces the edge of their makeshift camp deep in the creche. Lae'zel's voice trembles with pain and rage, broken syllables tumbling over each other as she struggles to comprehend the depth to which her world has been upended.

Then she halts abruptly. Her eyes narrow and her shoulders square. "She tests me," she mutters hoarsely. "A trial of faith. K'liir prepared me - 'Only the heaviest souls soar to the Astral.' Yes-- yes! I might gain Vlaakith's favor yet!"

There's a sort of hysteria in her tone. Her eyes fix on Rakha, pleading, desperate for reassurance.

But Rakha has none to give her. They both know the truth. "You're an enemy of your people now," she says, blunt and curt and quiet. "You need to accept that."

Lae'zel recoils as if slapped and her eyes narrow - and Rakha can see the faintest hint of trembling at her lips and along her jaw. "Silence," she snarls. Her voice cracks and she squeezes her eyes shut, looking away. "I must think..."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #this speech breaks my goddamn heart every time #poor lae'zel :(#and rakha being not at all supportive bc she doesn't know how to be :(#thinky thinking about a bit of drabbly stuff here about lae'zel having a proper breakdown #she deserves one #as a treat

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blackjackkent · 6 hours

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This is the place Rakha has been brought in her dreams. She recognizes the strange little patch of garden space, the stone columns and benches. The sense of peace and stillness is deepest here. The fabric of the Weave is thick, comforting, warm as a blanket. She feels centered and calm.

The guardian is waiting for her, back turned, looking out at the starscape beyond.

"I may have made a mistake trusting you," she says, in that low calm voice that has soothed Rakha's broken dreams in the past.

"I told you to stay away from the githyanki. But you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Rakha watches her steadily as she slowly climbs the path upwards. Her expression is still as stone. I believed my companion over you, yes. I followed her into a trap.

"And now you've come here to murder me." The guardian turns to face her. There's neither anger nor fear in her expression, just a sort of weary regret as she closes the distance between them.

Rakha shakes her head slightly, a single sharp jerk. "Vlaakith told me you are an agent of the illithid Grand Design," she says noncommittally. I do not want to kill you. But I must have answers.

The guardian laughs softly, a light breath out through her nose. "I told you I stole the artifact from someone. Well, I stole it from Vlaakith. Since then, she has become desperate. Vlaakith wants me dead because I know her secret." She smiles slowly, the faintest hint of pride. "It is a secret so great that if her people ever found out, that would be the end of her rule - the end of her. That same secret is how I've been protecting you from the Absolute."

Her head tips forward, her eyes searching Rakha's. "I hear your thoughts. You think I'm lying; Vlaakith warned you that I would try to deceive you. But consider this - what reason have I to deceive you? I want the same thing as you. Freedom."

She steps closer, her face close to Rakha's for a moment. "I'm on your side," she murmurs. "I have been since the very beginning."

There's a long, heavy pause. Then she draws back abruptly, putting space between them again. She reaches towards her back, and as she does, the Weave swirls around her and into her palm and a long, shining sword shivers into being in her hands.

Rakha watches, bewildered, as the guardian kneels before her, rests the blade across her palms, and waits.

There is a long, long, long silence.

Rakha stares at the blade, watching the way the thick magic of the Weave dances over the handle, along the sharp edge. For a moment she is certain that it is all over - the beast will rise, given this invitation to kill, and she will find the blade in her hand and sunk deep into the guardian's chest before she can even form the thought consciously.

But it doesn't come. She feels the urge stir in the back of her mind, drowsy, sedated, but it does not wake. The blade remains where it is, balanced in the guardian's hands.

Is the guardian giving her a gesture of trust? Perhaps. But in Rakha's eyes it is also a cool, firm reminder.

You are safe here from the urge that drives you. I am the only safety you have known from its power. Remember what you would lose in killing me.

The guardian knows her very well - somehow. She knows that while awake, Rakha has no peace at all. She knows that the moments she offers Rakha are a gift, one Rakha can't turn away from.

"Vlaakith be damned," Rakha mutters hoarsely. "If she wants you dead, she can kill you herself."

The guardian relaxes. Her shoulders slump and a slight smile tugs her lips as she stands and resheathes the blade into the ether.

"It seems I was right to put my faith in you after all," she says softly. "Thank you." Her smile turns sardonic. "Vlaakith will be furious, to make no mention of your githyanki companion. The lich queen fears nothing more than the loss of her empire. The knowledge I have of her deception will bring that about."

Yes, Rakha thinks with a sense of dark resignation. She will have to fight Lae'zel. Lae'zel will not accept the guardian's survival; she has made that clear already.

And yet... Lae'zel did stand against W'wargaz with her - because of the zaith'isk, the evidence that the gith could not be trusted. Lae'zel has no loyalty to Rakha and the others that trumps her loyalty to Vlaakith... but she can be swayed by facts.

"What deception?" she asks tightly.

"Vlaakith is lying to the githyanki," the guardian says. "They believe she knows how their beloved Mother Gith defeated the mind flayer empire. But she does not. If the illithids would ever rise to power again, 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."

She shrugs. "But that very power - the power to resist illithid control, which Vlaakith only pretends to know - is how I've been protecting you. I suppose she hoped to extract it from my corpse. Since you spared me that fate, she will come for you."

Rakha's jaw works as she takes in this information. It fills in many pieces of what she did not understand. Lae'zel has been raised within a lie. Vlaakith's power hinges on that lie not being revealed. Small wonder she gave Lae'zel such flattery, such promises.

The creche was a trap, yes. But a trap that threatens to snap back on its maker as well.

"What's the power?" she demands, hungry for more information, more answers.

But the guardian just smiles and shakes her head. "A logical question," she says gently. "But you're not ready for the answer." She takes a step back, looks away with a sudden air of agitation. "I have delayed long enough. The next attack is overdue, and I can't risk you being caught in the middle of it. I need you out there searching for the Absolute."

She reaches out, grasps Rakha by the forearm in a grip that is surprisingly powerful and strangely cool. "You were on the right path - to Moonrise Towers. Return to it." Another faint smile, more grim this time. "I hope you are ready to face Vlaakith's wrath. The entire creche stands ready to kill you in her name. Good luck."

And then she is gone - or rather Rakha is gone; without a sense of movement, she finds herself back outside the cave next to her companions waiting for her.

-----

Lae'zel pounces like a striking beast as soon as she sees Rakha is back among them.

"Speak!" she snaps. "Have you killed my queen's enemy?"

Rakha briefly considers lying, but dismisses the idea. Lae'zel will either accept the truth or she won't.

"Actually, I learned a few things," she says flatly. "Your queen is lying to you."

Lae'zel flinches, her lips curling in a scowl. "Vlaakith does not lie to her faithful. Open your mind - show me!"

Narrator: Your mind tingles. Lae'zel seeks entrance.

Rakha has pressed into her companions' minds too often to feel this an unfair intrusion. Besides... she has nothing lurking within her mind that Lae'zel does not already know. Nothing but this new truth.

Open your mind. Let Lae'zel into your memories.

Narrator: Your thoughts become one. She sees the truth of your confrontation in an instant.

Rakha feels the deep, sharp-edged pulse that is Lae'zel's presence within her thoughts. And she feels the young gith's reaction, too - rage, and indignation, and a deep silent wail of agonized grief.

"Vlaakith tavki na'zin--" Lae'zel snaps out unsteadily. "I see only-- only madness. Vlaakith bears the full might of Tu'narath's arms and the covenant of the great Mother Gith!"

But Rakha knows the truth under the defiant words. Lae'zel is too smart, too quick and sharp and brutally aware, not to see the truth, the way all the pieces fit together - the zaith'isk and the Inquisitor, the Prism and Vlaakith's empty, flattering promises.

Rakha watches from within her eyes as Lae'zel sees her whole world fall apart into bitter shards at her feet.

"Tsk'va," Lae'zel whispers, barely audible. Her eyes squeeze shut and she turns away. "We are leaving this place. Now."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #:( :( :( :( :( lae'zeeeeeel #i wanna give her a hug so bad #also love how the guardian scene #which played out fundamentally exactly the same as it did for hector #means something completely different with rakha #ocs are fun y'all

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blackjackkent · 6 hours

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Do you know why you are here?

#atta girl

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blackjackkent · 7 hours

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The Astral Plane is strange to walk in. Gravity doesn't pull at Rakha's feet the way she expects. She bounces, and when she leaps it sends her forward almost twenty feet.

Dead githyanki line the stones floating through the endless void. In the distance there is the sound of shouting. Explosions. Rakha recognizes, among the rock, the shape of the skull-like structure which she witnessed in her first dream of the guardian.

Yet another set of unanswered questions. There is so much she doesn't understand.

The guardian speaks inside her mind again as they approach the entrance to a deep cave in one of the asteroids.

"So you came," she murmurs. There's a distinct bite to her words that isn't there usually, an irritation. "In spite of all my warnings. Disappointing." A cool, gentle touch moves through Rakha's brain, tugging her forward. "Come. We will talk in private. Just the two of us."

Rakha doesn't hesitate, but strides forward without looking back at her companions.

Follow the voice in.

----

"Rakha-- wait!" Wyll calls, taking a step forward. Then he yelps as a forcefield flashes up in front of him, blocking him off from Rakha and the cave beyond. It catches his hands stretched out in front of him with a slap of sharp pain, knocking him back onto his heels. "Ow! Hell's fires..."

Lae'zel scowls. "A barrier to keep us out while Rakha speaks to her alone. Another trick of this 'guardian.'" She shifts her weight restlessly from foot to foot. "Well. Rakha knows our aim. She will finish the business-- or she will feel my blade."

Wyll gives her a narrow look sidelong. "You keep saying that," he says evenly. "You would kill her?"

"If she defies my queen - yes," Lae'zel shoots back.

Wyll shakes his head slightly. "She's one of us," he says, gently reproving. "You've seen how she is, how she thinks - she would gladly kill all of us, except she doesn't. We stand together."

"We stand together, yes," she sneers, "only as long as it benefits us. I will not give up ascension. Not for you, not for you--" this to Shadowheart, who is standing a little off to one side, listening in silence "--and not for Rakha."

Her lips curls disdainfully as she looks at Wyll. "But you, of course, will follow at her side like a trained kaoulgrim pup. Do not think I am not aware of your feelings for her." Her shoulders hunch, and the words seem to slip out of her unbidden, resentful. "Do not think I do not know why she looked away from me."

Wyll blinks, then flushes, his eyes narrowing. "Is that what this is about, then?" he asks tightly. "Your threat to put your blade at her back - because she spurned you? I will have you know I had nothing to do with that. She makes her own choices. I'm not sure either of us could control her if we tried."

"Peace, she'lak," Lae'zel snaps. "You speak of what you do not understand."

"Gods, the both of you," Shadowheart bursts out suddenly. "This is no place for a schoolyard quarrel. If you cannot wait silently, I'll hurl you both off the edge of this rock."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #bjk writes her own party banter #cat fiiiiiiight

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blackjackkent · 7 hours

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"The Undying Queen has spoken," Lae'zel mutters, half to Rakha, half to herself. "Insert the artifact into the creceh's planecaster. We will kill the threat inside... and I will have Vlaakith's eternal regard. She will cleanse me. She will ascend me."

Rakha has considerable doubts about that by this point - but she doesn't argue, just crosses to the planecaster and examines it.

It's a strange device. Its magic shimmers and bubbles, twitching through what Rakha can see of the Weave around it, and fading within itself in a way that defies words - connecting to a different plane interleaved with this one.

It is beautiful, as all magic is. But it has a sharp edge to it, the edge that touches Lae'zel's use of her psionics as well. A githyanki edge. This is not magic she understands, even with all her innate instinct.

There is danger here. But there is also no choice.

She reaches into her pocket and lifts the Prism out into the air.

"Don't do it--" she hears the guardian cry in her mind, a sharp, clipped-off plea.

The magic surges around her, up her arm, through the Prism itself, lifting it into the air. Pieces of its casing split off around it and she watches with fascinated curiosity to see it meld itself into the shimmering fabric of the Weave.

Narrator: Heat pulses out of the Astral Prism as it begins to flower.

Narrator: Your mind burns hot with excitement.

The power is like nothing she has ever witnessed before, a swirling, sucking maelstrom opening a passageway between this world and another. She feels herself yanked off her feet, drawn inexorably into that power and hurled into a blankness beyond--

Peace. Silence. Serenity. At once, instantly - the dark still calmness of her dreams of the guardian. The worm in her head quiets. The beast stills. She is empty.

A deep, ecstatic shudder goes through her as she steadies herself on her feet and looks around.

Narrator: [INTELLIGENCE] A timeless space, bounded, compressed in a fold - a pocket of Astral Plane.

Lae'zel has spoken of the Astral before - the home plane of her people, though a place where Lae'zel has never herself traveled. Infinite space, starlit and unending.

And indeed, Lae'zel's eyes are shining with a sudden surge of emotion Rakha has never seen there before - joy.

"Boundless. Timeless. Like every dream that ever was, stitched together," she whispers. "It is home."

Rakha knows no home; she has no memory of any such place. But there is peace here. This is certainly the place to which the guardian brought her in her dreams, the only place she has known such mental quiet.

She knows with sudden absolute certainty that they cannot kill the guardian. She cannot lose this place.

Though she hasn't the faintest idea what she will do instead.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge

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blackjackkent · 8 hours

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Divine.

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blackjackkent · 8 hours

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Like so many others before him, W'wargaz and all his training is still nothing before the dark urge. Rakha gives herself up to the anger that has been bubbling within her ever since they entered the creche, ever since the zaith'isk's cleansing turned out to be a convenient lie. She destroys the githyanki inquisitor and leaves him a smoking heap on the floor.

We will leave this place now. Halsin was right after all. We will traverse the Underdark and go to Moonrise Towers. We will find the heart of the cult and we will tear a cure out of their skulls.

But before she can speak - before she can even clear her mind of the slowly fading bloodlust... a new voice speaks, from the empty plinth that stands in the center of the room.

"Inquisitor W'wargaz was potent," it intones - a deep contralto, booming like thunder. "We are impressed."

The room flares suddenly with intense light like a supernova, then slowly coalesces into the enormous image of a githyanki woman clothed in armor and a silver crown. Her face is pale and alien and Rakha recognizes it - the image from the painting outside the ghustil's chambers.

Vlaakith.

Lae'zel's eyes go wide. Her sword falls to her side and she drops to her knees, trembling. "My Queen..." she whispers shakily. "Shkath zai!"

"You are permitted to look upon me," the githyanki queen says coldly. Her eyes narrow at Rakha. "You are invited to kneel."

"The Deathless Queen has spoken," Lae'zel hisses. "You will obey."

Rakha does not move, but stares up at the god-queen's image appraisingly. Once again, she finds herself wondering about the past that she has no memory of. Was there once a god she looked at with such reverence? A force for whom she would have fallen on her knees as Lae'zel does?

She finds it hard to fathom. This goddess speaks with a voice that can be heard, a face that can be seen. Rakha owes her no more respect than she owed the thunderous tones of the Absolute in her head.

After all, it was in Vlaakith's name that the ghustil almost killed Lae'zel - almost killed them all.

Stay standing, exactly as you are.

Vlaakith's image scowls. "I expected little of istik education," she snarls. "But here we kneel before our Queen!"

The image moves, shifting past Rakha and focusing on Lae'zel behind her. Vlaakith lowers herself slowly until her enormous face is directly in front of Lae'zel's.

"Your choice of allies is most vexing," she says. Her voice still booms like thunder, even though it is lowered. "They do not become you - Lae'zel."

Rakha can see Lae'zel's olive skin go pale. Her eyes, impossibly, seem to widen further.

"Ch'mar zal'a Vlaakith..." she whispers. Rakha has never heard her voice so shaky. "You know me."

(A/N: God, look at her FACE. Poor Lae'zel. :( :( :( She's so fucking young and is being faced with the upheaval of everything she's ever known and she already knows, deep down, where it's going... but Vlaakith herself is speaking to her and how can she not listen, even after everything...)

"Urlon of K'liir speaks most highly," Vlaakith says gravely. "As did Al'chaia before him." She draws back and looks the group over coldly. "You seek purity. I may yet grant it."

She turns her attention back to Rakha, who has not moved a muscle since the conversation began.

"Istik," she growls. "You bear that which is ours. But are you friend, or are you thief?"

The flat truth of the matter is that she is neither. She did not take the artifact from the githyanki - but nor is she a friend here. W'wargaz may be dead but the danger lingers.

Vlaakith is lying. I may yet grant purity, she says. But Lae'zel made it clear this was supposed to be a protocol, something granted by default. And who is to say Vlaakith's purity is any different from that the zaith'isk offered - an agonizing death?

"Neither," she says bluntly. "It is mine by rights." Not strictly true - but as true as Vlaakith's words, at least. More so, really, for the artifact returned to her deliberately, when she tried to give it away.

"No!" Vlaakith roars, straightening abruptly. The room's temperature seems to drop several degrees. "It is not yours. To own something is to know it! That weapon you carry - the Astral Prism - it is corrupted."

"I will cleanse it for you, my queen!" Lae'zel cries eagerly. "Tell me how!"

Vlaakith lifts a hand. Pale light sprouts between her fingers - an image of the Prism rotating slowly over her palm. "There is someone inside," she says. "Their mind is warped, broken - a blight. They are an agent of the Grand Design, sent to sabotage the Astral Prism - our last defense against the return of the Illithid Empire. As long as they live, the Prism is corrupted."

She snaps her palm closed around the image, shattering it apart. "KILL THEM!" she thunders. "Do this, and I will cleanse you and your allies. Do this - and ascend!"

Lae'zel has begun to tremble all over, the whites of her eyes showing on all sides. "Ascension?" she murmurs. "My queen... an honor gained, a burden borne..."

Then she hesitates. Her eyes flick to Rakha... and her gaze clears, just slightly. She remembers her words only a few minutes earlier. Your path is mine to follow...

"Choose," she says hoarsely. "But know this - the cost of refusal is great."

"Not merely great, Lae'zel," the goddess says icily. "Eternal."

Rakha says nothing for a long moment. It is difficult to parse out what is happening here, what bits of this are truth and which are falsehood.

Vlaakith is describing the guardian, certainly - but the guardian has shown no signs of corruption. The guardian has protected them. The guardian has calmed both the worm and the beast in Rakha's mind. Meanwhile, Vlaakith's people have tried to destroy them.

Frustratingly, she finds her concern keeps coming back to Lae'zel. She should be - she is - angry with the young githyanki for bringing them here in the first place. Why is she still concerned for Lae'zel's well-being?

It would be easier if she could simply turn the beast loose, carve their way out of this place and leave it behind. But she is still bound to Lae'zel, whether she likes it or not.

"I can't do that," she finally says slowly. "The person inside protects me from the Absolute."

"YOU ARE BEING LIED TO!" Vlaakith roars, seeming to swell to even greater size. "I WILL BE OBEYED!"

"Tsk'va!" Lae'zel cries out. "Do not defy my queen!"

And there's something new in her voice now. Not the eager obeisance, and not her normal cool confidence either. Something else.

Fear.

Lae'zel is terrified.

Again Rakha hesitates. Her fists curl at her sides. Her eyes flick to Wyll on her other side, uncertain, questioning. But he just shrugs. He doesn't know what to do either. They are trapped - as they have been from the moment they entered the creche.

Rakha draws a slow breath, lets it out between her teeth. Fine. "Yes," she says evenly. "I will enter the Prism and kill the occupant."

She has no such intention. But Lae'zel is on the edge of panic. And if they can enter the Prism, if they can speak to the guardian... she will have another moment of peace, of her mind clearing, another moment of safety, and perhaps the path will become clearer. Perhaps the guardian will know what to do...

Perhaps she will finally have answers, at this moment of crisis.

She can see Lae'zel relax slightly, and Vlaakith smiles harshly.

"Use the planecaster's power to enter the artifact," the queen instructs. "Be wary of the creature's lying tongue. Cut it out if you must. You will not leave this room until it is done."

"Ba na'zin," Lae'zel agrees. Her voice is suddenly tight with control again, her eyes narrowed. "Our each step with purpose. Vlaakith has spoken - do not leave this room except to enter the Prism. Turn your back on me, and you will feel my blade against it."

Rakha looks back at her steadily. You threaten me again. But do you mean it?

It is tempting to simply go, to find out for certain whether Lae'zel's words have bite as well as bark. But... no. They will enter the Prism. And one way or another... she will find the answers she needs, and then she will act.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #whoo boy long posts today :P #rationalizing the pc's behavior here is #challenging #lol #luckily rakha is addicted to the guardian's power like a drug so that helps

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blackjackkent · 8 hours

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LOL I forgot that Vlaakith can straight up end the whole party with a word if you take the wrong dialogue path.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #rakha was like “i mean if you're a god shouldn't you be able to kill anyone you want without my help”#and vlaakith was like “bet” and obliterated everyone #whoops F6

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blackjackkent · 9 hours

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self care checklist

kill

shower

laundry

kill

#Rakha the dark urge #lol

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