Larian Studios Forums Baldur's Gate III Baldur's Gate III - General Forever Beyond: A BG Fic

Aerie tried to put from her mind her encounter with the warrior, but her mind was a relentless and tireless torturer not prepared to just let her go. It kept showing her the bodies with the earth drenched and soaking up blood around them, but there was nothing she could have done, was there? She didn’t know. Someone must have hired him to hunt the pack. They must have had a reason. She didn’t know. There was nothing she could have done.

When the moon was at its highest she uttered a prayer to Baervan Wildwanderer, then after a restless night decided to immerse herself in work, taking on any little chore that needed doing; cleaning, feeding the animals, offering her healing services to anyone with so much as a scrape or sniffle. She soon learned that, contrary to what Lucretious insisted, most of the ailments here were not physical but caused by the stress and strain of constantly moving then having to perform. All she could really do was prescribe taking breaks, reading a book, finding a hobby. Still, by the fourth day, she admitted to herself that she appreciated a routine, a structure, something to distract her from her nightmares, although it was likely only a temporary relief.

A wearisome part of the routine though was each morning finding Popper - the Kobold merchant - looking sternly on his little scaly face, holding out her hand and telling him, “give it.”

The small red reptile had a limited range of facial expressions, yet somehow managed to convey being shocked and appalled as he leaned away from her. “It?!” He hissed, “there are no its here. Least no its of yours, strange one. Many other its and bits, if you would care-”

“I can literally see it dangling around your neck.”

“Ahhh,” the Kobold grasped the pink Owlbear hanging from him, “this it? Which I found. Honestly and with no rummaging through bags of holding. I will sell it, for, hmmmm… five hundred gold?”

He was either an idiot who just assumed it some powerful artifact because it was important to her, or maybe a business genius since she was the only person it was worth anything to. Unfortunately Aerie had never been good at haggling and was in no mood to try now. “How about this deal,” she sighed, “you hand it over, and I don’t turn you into a chicken?”

“A chicken, you say?” Popper considered, scratching under his chin. It was a rather long ‘hmmmmmmmmm’ before he finally decided, “I would not like that at all! Deal!”

Aerie shook her head tiredly, trading back what was hers to begin with. “I need a drink,” she sighed.

“Ahhh! Then perhaps we make another deal,” he rummaged around in a trunk until reemerging with a pink long-necked bottle. “Wine of Lathander,” he gave it a little shake, a glint from the morning sun in his teeth and in the glass as he held it up to his cheek enticingly. “It’s made with spunk!”

That almost broke her. Her cheeks puffed, lips pursed, as she desperately tried to not burst. “Do… d-do you mean, made by monks?”

Popper hmmmed again, shrugging, “maybe. You want?”

“May… m-maybe later.”

Aerie was able to compose herself before Lucretious saw her; couldn’t have her thinking she was actually enjoying any part of her stay. “I suppose you’d have found this all very funny,” Aerie gently stroked the Owlbear in her palm, “you always found something to laugh about.”

Stomach in, bum out; Aerie narrowing avoided the tip of a wooden blade flying by her midriff, attached to a madly spinning little blue boy caked in mud. “You ever fight a dragon?!” Thyneus shouted. “You must have fought everything, right?”

“Fighting is never right,” Aerie stated very responsibly, “we just sometimes have no choice.” Then less responsibly she added, “but, if you are going up against a dragon, a sword isn’t really the best tool. You want something like a pike. Lots of pikes.”

His face scrunched up at her, “how are fish going to help?”

Ervir caught up, panting, “stop being a menace! Go clean all that mud off you,” he stood up, bowing his head to Aerie. “Sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. “Children play,” she shrugged, “doesn’t bother me.”

“Well you’re more patient than some,” the tiefling spotted the pink object she was holding on to, and not for the first time. “Who were they?”

“Just,” Aerie placed one hand over the other, clutching the necklace close to her chest almost as though she were in prayer, “an old friend.”

“What happened?”

“She,” her tongue rolled behind her teeth as she tried to sort a jumble of feelings into words, “was on a journey that I couldn’t accompany her on.”

Ervir nodded, seeming to understand. “The world can be most unfair.”

“You lost someone?”

“Thyn’s mother.”

Of course. Aerie had wondered, but hadn’t presumed to ask before. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, “what we’ve lost is also a part of who we are now, right?”

“Right,” she bit her lip, “I find I’m often better at sounding wise than I am at being.”

Some of the wagons had started moving, setting off for the day pulled by horse and oxen, some circus folk walking alongside them carrying flasks and little packs. Aerie squinted; one of the wheels wobbled more than it should, and before it a rock… the wheel snapped, the surprise causing one of the bards to trip, screaming and flailing up their arms in a futile attempt to defend themselves from the vehicle lurching toward them. Then the screaming stopped, the bard then surprised the five-foot elf holding the entire up with just her hands.

“Is everyone okay?” Aerie gasped. The driver had fallen off, the bard scurried away from potential danger, but it seemed no-one was hurt. “Good,” she pursed her lips, looking around a little awkwardly. She had acted instinctively, reflexively, but now she was in this position she wasn’t quite sure what the next move was. The strength she had summoned wouldn’t last long; should she let the wagon fall, or find some way to prop it up?

“Oh, Aerie dear,” skeletons pulled Lucretious’ chaise up next to the wagon, the ringmaster fanning herself as she looked down, “a little lady like you shouldn’t be holding a big heavy thing like that.”

“So,” Aerie peered back doubtfully, “are you actually going to help?”

“Of course!” Lucretious coughed, leaning forward. “Remember; it’s keep your back straight and bend at the knees.”

“Yeah,” Aerie rolled her eyes, “I should have guessed.”

“Actually, now I have you here, you can answer a few more questions. I’ve been thinking what the show needs is some romance.”

“Now?!” Aerie puffed, “you want to talk about this now?!”

“Well I think its very important; every story needs some romance, yes?”

“You know, I don’t really care for it. I mean it’s not healthy, telling people they’re not really a whole person unless they possess or are possessed by someone else. It’s the cause of so much misery.”

“You’re just determined to be as difficult as possible, aren’t you? Come on; pretty thing like you must have had lots of lovers.”

“I am not going to tell you how many ‘lovers’ I’ve had.”

“Awww… why not?”

“Because if its not many then I’m frigid, and if its a lot then I’m a hussy. I’m not playing a game that has no way to win.”

“Let’s just say twenty then,” Lucretious said, proving to her that she already was. “All men?”

Aerie shook her head, having to adjust her grip as the remaining wheel on the other side started to slide, then just sighed and admitted, “no. Not all of them were men. Are you happy now?”

“Very! That’s just the kind of spice we’re looking for."

“In a puppet show?”

“Need something to keep the dads interested. Now,” Lucretious reached into seat, pulling out a folder and handful of papers she’d scribbled in.

“Oh my; you actually have notes. Almost like a real writer. I’m impressed.”

“So, tell me about Haer’Dalis.”

Aerie gawked like she’d had water splashed in her face. He was her first, and she thought about him often. She thought about everyone. He hadn’t been in Sigil when she was there, which was maybe for the best. Who knows? He was just another person she had lost. “I don’t know what to tell you. He was a bard. He was kind to me, in his way. I used to nervously stutter all the time when I spoke - living under constant threat of having your ribs broken if you so much as glance the wrong way will do that - but me helped me find my voice. I miss him. That’s it.”

“Did you love him?”

“I-I,” Aerie rolled her head back, taking a deep breath, “I thought I did, briefly. I was still very young at the time. But he was a Doomguard, and I’m very much in favor of life. It was never meant to be. Speaking of,” she gestured with her eyes at the wagon, “would you mind? So we don’t both get crushed.”

Lucretious signaled with her fan. Next to Aerie the ground slurped and rose up, the jagged form of an earth elemental solidifying under the wagon and taking its weight from her. “That’s enough questions for now. Be a dear, would you, and go find out from our guides how far we are from the next village.”

Fyodor and Klaus were leading the caravan, because Klaus had a map although Fyodor maintained he could find his way just by smell and memory.

“I’m telling you,” the bugbear snarled, “it is just over this next hill.”

“You said that five hills ago,” Klaus muttered behind his parchment, “we… we are lost,” he sighed, folding it up and turning to Aerie as she approached. “Any idea where we are?”

“Hmm,” she thought, “give me a moment.” She planted her elbows in her side, hands stretched either side of her head as if in praise of the sun, then closed her eyes and began jerkily turning around.

“Um… what are you doing?”

“Shhh! Avariel are able to navigate by sensing fluctuations in the world’s magnetic field. Yes - I’d say we’re about four miles from a village called Stefington.”

“Really?” Klaus peered in astonishment. “That’s amazing!”

Aerie opened her eyes, grinning, “of course not really, you galoot. I just looked at the signpost over there.”

It was fair way down the road, partially obscured by overgrown branches, but when the other’s squinted they could just make it out. “Well, still impressive eyesight, I suppose,” Klaus shrugged.

Their arrival in the village later that day meant that Aerie didn’t need to resort to Popper’s spunk to quench her thirst, instead stocking up her bag of holding in the tavern. Although they were only staying one night, the circus folk naturally started to put on a show the moment they arrived; the bards singing and playing, illusions of animals and monsters wowing the children, acrobatics, fire-breathing; it was welcome break for the villagers at least.

Aerie stayed away from it as much as she could. She found herself again with Fyodor and Klaus making sure crates were secure in the wagons, still thinking about Haer’Dalis, wondering what might have become of him. Of course she had no answers. She supposed he’d be old now, if he was still out there at all.

“Look at this,” Klaus spat, breaking a nail as he tried to undo a tangled mess of a rope, “there were no knots in this at all when we set out. Now look at it! How is it even possible?”

Aerie sighed, “that’s an example of entropy; myriad tiny movements and vibrations on the road, an infinitude of combinations the rope can slide into, almost all of them a mess.”

“Damn nuisance is what it is,” Klaus grumbled, continuing to demonstrate that it was life’s lot to resist entropy, no matter if it was futile in the end.

“WAAAGH!” Someone wailed. Aerie’s ears pricked, first thinking a baby had been abandoned in the woods. But no; it was a much older voice, and coming from inside the village. She wandered tentatively toward the sound, further hearing, “Woe is Minsc! Failed to protect his witch! Can never return to the snowy fields of home! Such a useless, addled, fool he is!”

It of course wasn’t Minsc. Didn’t even sound like him. It seemed Lucretious had already finished part of her show, and now there was a puppet Minsc banging its head on the ledge of a little theater in front of a small crowd. It had red hair, for some reason, and of course so did Aerie’s puppet.

“Oh, no, no, no, Minsc!” Aerie the Red said, doing her best to put her too small arms around him. “You’ve helped so many people! Put the boot to so much evil! I know if Dynaheir could see you now, she would be proud.”

“Oh, sweet, kind, little Aerie,” Minsc sniffed, “you have been a good friend to Boo and I. Perhaps…” the puppet leaned to the side, appearing to consult in whispers with a hamster. “Yes! Minsc and Boo are nothing without a witch. Without one we are lost! So, perhaps, you could be our witch?”

“I-I,” Aerie the Red turned away, lowering her head in thought as if this were the biggest decision she'd ever had to make. To be fair, at that point it probably was. “Of course, Minsc,” she said at last, “if you will be my guardian, I will be your witch, and together we’ll avenge Dynaheir!”

Minsc bowed like he was being knighted, “My sword, my soul, my hamster... all of these I pledge to... to Aerie, my witch! WOE IS YOU, EVIL! Minsc has a new witch!”

Actually wasn’t far off what really happened, at least as far as Aerie - the real Aerie - could recall. At first watching the scene made her smile, until her wistfulness was interrupted by a little voice in the back that kept getting louder, saying, ‘what a failure of a witch you are.’

‘No,’ she answered, ‘I kept my promise. We avenged Dynaheir.’

‘And then you sent him away. He trusted you, and you sent him away, never to be seen or heard from again.’

‘I-I-I… t-that wasn’t...’

‘You failed him, just like you failed them’. She felt a banging on the door, crying, wails, and she ran. She didn’t know how far, but she was lost the rest of the night. It was Lucretious who found her face down in mud next to a stream.

“Oh, dearie,” she sighed, helping the barely lucid Aerie up, an empty bottle floating away as she guided the very flushed avariel back to the village. “What are we to do with you, hm? You’re not even two hundred; far too young to be this full of regret and sorrow. Wait until you’ve had a wild night with an incubus and a succubus; that’ll leave you with things to regret. Come on; let’s get you lying down somewhere you won’t drown.”