Tumgik
#that last one with minsc omg lmao
blackjackkent · 6 months
Text
Poking at Jaheira and Rasaad dialogue from Baldur's Gate 2 to get their voices more in my head for fic writing... some of my favorite bits from the wiki that I didn't get in Caden's playthrough:
Jaheira: You musn't let yourself get so wounded, Aerie. I won't always be around to bandage you, you know. Aerie: I'm a healer too, Jaheira. Jaheira: And what good are your spells now? You should be more frugal and not cast them all at once. Aerie: Y-yes, ma'am. Jaheira: And don't stutter; it doesn't become you.
Jaheira: I see you are hurt, child. I will carry what extra I can if it will lighten your load. Aerie: I am not weak, Jaheira, and you were as likely to be hurt as I! Jaheira: I have more experience in battle, Aerie. Any wound I received might have killed you comparatively. Aerie: So you say, but I shall not learn avoidance of such by cowering behind you.
Dorn: You have fire. I respect that. But I warn you, druid: Attempt to poison me again and you will not see the next sunrise. Jaheira: What nonsense are you babbling? Dorn: This concoction. You neglected to account for my orc blood. Next time, try something more potent. Jaheira: Do not be ridiculous. I am a druid, not an assassin. Dorn: Then how do you explain this vile brew? Jaheira: It is a mixture of myrtle and willow— Dorn: IT IS POISON. Jaheira: Drink it, Il-Khan. Or next time I will leave your wounds untended.
Jan: You know, Jaheira, in all our travels, your smile has eluded me. Jaheira: Oh, come now. Certainly I reserve my emotions for matters of great import, but... Jan: That is the thing. Perhaps I have moved you on occasion, but any fleeting glimmer of a smile is gone before it properly lights the room. Jaheira: Well, have you a relative that might remedy the situation Jan: Eh, perhaps illustrating the horror of unappreciated storytelling? Well... I had an Uncle Richard that tried to bring nude theater to a festival in Waterdeep...Exposure is usually good for an actor's career, but even so, a cold reception for the play caused the cast to shrink steadily. Blackballed, my uncle tried to recruit from the thieves' guild, but they wouldn't let their nick-ers go."Just bare with me," he would say, but they were afraid of being stripped of their dignity. He gave up the lead to attract new members, and eventually the production's genius was uncovered, even with his part left out. Jaheira: Ah... Jan: Verdict? Jaheira: Not... one of your best. *snicker* Jan: They can't all take the brass ring. Jaheira: Keep trying? Jan: I will if you will, my dear.
Keldorn: So this is home to your mysterious Harpers, is it Jaheira: Less and less mysterious with every day of your scrutiny, Lord Keldorn. Had I my choice, I would rather none but me were here at all. Keldorn: Then I thank the gods you do not have your choice more often. Your opinions run often towards the brash, my dear. Jaheira: I am Harper, Keldorn, I am discreet when I wish. I just find other methods to be... more effective. Now, may I suggest you keep your next thoughts to yourself? Keldorn: Ah... yes... aye, m'lady.
Korgan: That's a fine wooden staff you've there, woman. Tell me, ye crack acorns with it? Or call some rarebit friends to frolic with ye? Jaheira: Nature's servant makes no judgment on the woodlands. Your tone betrays you, Korgan. Korgan: Perhaps ye could summon a horde of squirrels to take the day, or make a lovely leaf stew? Make sure ye and yer twig be of some use, though that use be lost on me. Jaheira: A great many things are lost to you, I would think.
Jaheira: My injuries sting, but I think it is mostly my pride that hurts. But we did well enough in our last battle, did we not? I'll wager we may outlive the season if we are careful. Mazzy: That we might, though this was surely but a small scuffle. Our battles will loom larger as we garner more enemies. Jaheira: You do not seem worried at this prospect. Mazzy: Our virtue will guide the way. We shall not falter.
Minsc: Oh! Squirrels, Boo! I know I saw them! Quick, throw nuts! Jaheira: Minsc, could you please maintain a little grace while in nature's presence? Sometimes I simply do not know how you came by your title of ranger. Minsc: Do you wish me dour and sour like most others? No, I say not. The animals run and play without care, and I would too... if such a thing would not squish Boo flat. Jaheira: But your duties are serious things, Minsc. Do you realize that? Minsc: I am very serious! Boo would not let me shirk my duties! I would not want to shirk anything! No, ma'am, no shirking! Jaheira: Admirable, Minsc, but you use that word like you don't know what it means. Minsc: Eh, well... no... but it sounds sharp and painful, and I always reserve such things for freaks that might steal those squirrels' nuts! Jaheira: Good job, Minsc. You keep it up.
Jaheira: Well, little Nalia, it would seem you have grown quite accustomed to the power you now wield. Nalia: Why do you bring this up now, Jaheira? You have that tone in your voice again. Jaheira: "That" tone? I do not understand what you mean. Nalia: Yes, you do. It's that "time for an unnecessary lecture" tone that means you are about to caution me on the use of the power I have earned. Jaheira: I see. And what do you think the outcome of such a conversation would be? Nalia: Well, I believe that I would tell you I have found my true calling, that you should probably butt out, and that I would really prefer you to refrain from calling me "little Nalia." Jaheira: Determined to do good works no matter what the world thinks, is that the gist of it? Nalia: Yes, that would be the gist of it. Jaheira: Then I agree that the lecture would be unnecessary. I need say nothing. Nalia: You... what? Thank you, Jaheira.
Jaheira: I am curious, Neera. What does a wild surge feel like? Neera: It depends. I never know what to expect. The surges are all different from each other. How does it feel when you cast spells? Jaheira: Not the same, I am sure. I may feel wrath if the nature of my spell is violent, or calm if it is for healing. Beneath it all, I feel a oneness with nature that never changes. Neera: Maybe it's not so different after all. Jaheira: Why? You have this sense of oneness when you use magic? Neera: Sort of. My mind becomes part of... something. What, I don't know—I don't think it's nature. The Weave, I guess? Or maybe chaos? But yeah, it's kind of like "oneness," except it seems more like I'm looking at it through a window. When my magic is working properly, anyway. Jaheira: And when it's not? Neera: A wild surge is like that window shattering into a million pieces of glass. Jaheira: That sounds... unsafe. Neera: I don't mind. If you've been indoors a long time, sometimes you like the feel of a cold gust of wind. Jaheira: We are not talking about wind and windows. We are talking about power and your mind. Be careful of that glass.
Neera: Ohmigosh. Oh, Jaheira, I am so, so sorry! Jaheira: What have you to apologize for? Neera: A lot of things, actually, like the time I lit your hair on fire or the time I elbowed you in the stomach trying to get out of your way or— Jaheira: What have you to apologize for NOW? Neera: I just realized—I never said I was sorry about Khalid. Jaheira: Thank you, Neera. I appreciate that. Neera: I liked Khalid; he was nice. He made me soup once, when we were in Bridgefort.Come to think of it, it was REALLY GOOD soup. You wouldn't happen to know the recipe, would you?Er. Never mind. Not the time.
Viconia: Tell me, Harper, who was who with your parentage? Father the darthiir, mother the rivvil? Or father human, mother elven? It's always confusing with crossbred mongrels. Jaheira: Two people in love, swine. A rain not likely to soak your parade of scabbed obscenity anytime soon.
Voghiln: Come on. Just a little peck on the cheek. What's the harm in that? Jaheira: It'll be in my husband's fists if he finds out about it. Voghiln: Vot? Your husband raises his hand to you? This is not acceptable. Jaheira: No, you idiot. He'll raise his hand to you. And then bring it down on you, over and over again, like a hammer from the heavens. Voghiln: Oh, he'd hit ME? Ja, this makes more sense.
Rasaad: Forgive me, Jaheira, but I do not understand. I thought you a champion of goodness. You say you are not? Jaheira: There is no good in nature, nor evil, either. The wolf devours the rabbit. Is this good or evil, do you think? Rasaad: Well... neither, I suppose. Jaheira: You monks sit in libraries, perusing musty tomes about good and evil. I do not make such distinctions. My world - the natural world - simply is. Rasaad: An... interesting perspective. I shall have to think upon it. Jaheira: Perhaps you could find a book to help clear the matter up. Rasaad: An excellent idea. Have you any suggest... oh. You are teasing me now, yes? Jaheira: There may be hope for you yet, Rasaad.
Aerie: The weather is turning. Rasaad: It is a little chilly. Aerie: If we didn't have bad weather, we'd never appreciate it when it was good. You taught me that. Rasaad: I did? Aerie: Without the dark, how does one recognize the light?
Rasaad: I admire your devotion, Cernd. Cernd: My devotion? Rasaad: To nature. Has your faith in the Mother ever been tested? Cernd: Winds may sway the trunk, but this oak's roots are buried deep. Rasaad: What happens when the storm tears the tree from its holdings? What then? Cernd: When it happens—if it happens—another tree will take its place. Life goes on, Rasaad. Forever and always.
Edwin: Your head is very smooth, monk. Tell me, are you naturally bald? Rasaad: No. I shave it each day. Edwin: You shave it yourself, do you? Tell me, how do you do that? Rasaad: Surely you know how to shave. Edwin: Of course I know how to shave my own head, you impudent baboon!Uh, I merely seek to add to my considerable knowledge on the subject. So tell me—how do you shave your head? Rasaad: Having the correct tools helps. Come, I'll show you what I use.
Haer'Dalis: Yours is a story as old as time, but still as enthralling as the first time it was told. Rasaad: I am fairly sure my story is mine and mine alone. How could you have heard of it before? Haer'Dalis: The narrative shares many similarities with great plays and poems from times past. A stalwart soldier of light, his beliefs thrown into question by forces beyond his control, seeking revenge against those forces in an attempt to right that which was wronged. Classic. Rasaad: I see. And how do these other stories end? Haer'Dalis: The endings are many and varied, Rasaad, but all share one element. Rasaad: Which is? Haer'Dalis: Tragedy.
Hexxat: Still suspicious, Rasaad? Don't you think if I wanted your blood, I'd have taken it by now? Rasaad: Perhaps you are just biding your time, waiting for the right moment to strike. Hexxat: Rest easy. I would never partake of a friend of <CHARNAME>—at least, not uninvited. It would be... discourteous. Rasaad: Courtesy is not something I'd expect from a vampire. Hexxat: It is, however, something I'd expect from a Selûnite monk. Expectations are such slippery things, aren't they?
Imoen: What do you think? Rasaad: About what, Imoen? Imoen: My hair, dummy. What do you think? Rasaad: Has it changed? Imoen: YES! Look at it. Does it LOOK the same? Rasaad: I... yes? Imoen: You could at least TRY lying convincingly. Rasaad: You would have me lie to you? Imoen: Forget it. Don't worry about it. Rasaad: Have I done something wrong? Imoen: If you have to ask, then yeah, you probably have.
Mazzy: Take heart, Rasaad! The day is fine and our victories plentiful. Melancholy ill suits you. Rasaad: You mistake contemplation for melancholy. Do not be deceived. I am glad of our success. Mazzy: Your eyes tell a different story. Whatever demons you wrestle with, my friend, know that we stand steadfast behind you. Rasaad: I appreciate that, Mazzy, truly. But there is nothing to worry about.
Rasaad: You are always impeccably dressed, Nalia, yet I rarely see you shop for clothes. Nalia: I've always been good with a needle—one of the few skills Aunt Delcia managed to successfully impart, much to her chagrin. Rasaad: You sew your own garments? Nalia: Do not sound so surprised. Sewing relaxes me. It keeps the hands busy while letting the mind work. It's really not all that hard, once you get the basics down. The rest is just practice. Rasaad: And a little magic, I presume? Nalia: Here and there, Rasaad. Here and there.
Minsc: Friend Rasaad, I have a question, and Boo is being most uncooperative. What is a honeymoon? Rasaad: After two people are joined in marriage, they are provided with mead for a month in order to... ah... grow comfortable with one another. Minsc: So there are no bees? Rasaad: I have never been married, so I would not know. Jaheira: I can assure you, children, there are no bees on a honeymoon. Minsc: I shall take your word for it. Boo's answer involved both bees and birds. It was... confusing.
14 notes · View notes