Prototype's Gate

Alex entered a small building that had miraculously escaped the flames, and after moving some crates that blocked the door, he stepped inside. The interior was cluttered with sacks and crates of food, and in a corner sat three barrels marked with a red stripe. As he advanced further, he spotted a man crouched behind a shelf, eyes locked onto the barrels with the red stripe while holding a flame in his hand.

Alex, sensing the man's agitation, used his psionic abilities to delve into his thoughts. The man's mind was an anxious loop, repeating a phrase: "Little serpent, long shadow. Don't want to die. Little serpent, long shadow. Just say it!"

"Little serpent, long shadow," Alex said aloud.

The man immediately relaxed, extinguishing the flame in his hand. "Gah, I thought you were a Flaming Fist," the man said as he stood up. "Down you go then. They will be on us soon, so if you're looking to trade, best be quiet." He pointed to a trap door behind him.

Alex shrugged, deciding he could spare a few minutes to see what this was about. He descended the ladder into a room filled with crates, many of which were empty or filled with junk. He sniffed the air and approached a drawer on the wall, lifting his leg and bringing it down hard.

"There's a tunnel on the other side," Alex declared.

He opened the drawer, which was empty, and tapped the wood until he found a hidden button. With a press, the drawer slid away, revealing a tunnel. After a bit of walking and climbing down, Alex reached his destination. He sensed a dozen minds nearby and proceeded cautiously.

He stopped when he saw a woman looking at him from his far left. She had fair skin, subtle freckles, and blonde hair styled in an updo with two small braids framing her face. She wore dark green clothing and had an air of authority.

"That's far enough. What's your business down here? Answer honestly, and maybe we'll kill you clean," the woman said.

Alex suppressed a smirk. "Little serpent, long shadow," he repeated, hoping it would work again.

"That just tells me you know our code, not why you're here. I won't ask again," the woman said impatiently.

"I'm here to trade," Alex responded.

The woman eyed Alex for a few moments, her gaze lingering on his Phalar Aluve. "Trade with what? Your life was ours the moment you walked in here. But... maybe I'll let you buy it back. I have a job that needs doing. We've disarmed the traps, come down!"

Alex walked to a metal grated door and pushed it open. As he walked down the slope, he was stopped at another grated door. He sensed a dozen minds on the path he had come from, deeming them useless if he jumped over to where the woman stood.

A man looked at him and opened the door. Inside, he saw dozens of crates, some open and filled with valuable items. Not wanting to keep the person who "owned his life" waiting, he walked to her. To his left, a man was crying while trying to paint something. Dressed differently from the others, the man looked at Alex and approached him, but was stopped by another man with red hair.

"Please, save me!" the man pleaded.

The red-haired man smiled and looked at Alex. "If you have the gold, my pet artist will make you a most heroic likeness."

"I'm just looking to trade," Alex responded, lacking the money.

The artist stopped struggling, simply walked back to his spot, and resumed his painting, this time sobbing.

"Got some interesting stock for a member of the family," the red-haired man said, pointing to a corner filled with weapons, armors, potions, and trinkets.

Alex reached into his pocket, rummaged a bit, and then pulled out a small diamond. "How much can I buy with this?" he asked, having created the diamond within his body.

The man leaned forward to inspect the gem, and Alex probed his thoughts. "This is the most beautiful diamond I've ever seen; I must have it. But let's downplay it a bit," the man thought.

"It's good, but I've seen better. But I think it's enough to afford some potions," the red-haired man said.

Alex smirked, pocketed the diamond again, and walked past him. The red-haired man stared at the pocket where the diamond was.

"Wait," the man said, grabbing Alex's shoulder.

Alex stopped and turned around.

"After you speak with the boss, come to me. I can show you something worth it."

Alex nodded and climbed a ladder to reach the boss.

The woman watched Alex intently as he approached her. “Not many can talk their way into a Zhentarim outpost,” she remarked. “Some of my people are missing – more importantly, so is their cargo. Keep them alive if you can. Failing that, just bring the shipment back. Unopened.”

Alex nodded, already suspecting where the cargo might be. As he climbed back down, he was greeted by the red-haired man.

“Follow me,” the man instructed. They walked to a chest. The man took a key from around his neck and opened it.

Alex moved closer and peered inside. It contained armor and weapons, each radiating a magical aura.

“The diamond for one of these beauties, mate,” the man smiled.

“I don’t need them,” Alex replied.

The man's smile faltered. “Give me all the potions you have and that man,” Alex said, pointing to the artist.

The man shook his head but paused when Alex pulled out another gem, this time a ruby.

“Deal,” the man agreed, eyes fixed on the two gems.

Alex took a sack filled with potions and from it, he selected one containing a purple, foamy liquid. Everyone around watched, wide-eyed, as Alex opened the bottle and drank its contents.

The man with red hair gaped. “Good stuff,” Alex said with a smirk.

“What...” the man murmured, holding the empty bottle. “This much purple worm toxin should have killed a dozen men, and he's fine...” he trailed off.

Alex turned and walked to the artist. Try to rob me now, he thought. The poison he had consumed was extremely toxic, causing immediate necrosis of the cells it contacted, but it was nothing Alex couldn't resist.

The artist shook his head, stared at Alex for a few moments, and cleared his throat. “I can't say I've ever been bought before – how much did I fetch? No, don't tell me, there's nothing as depressing as learning one’s value. Well, you should at least know what you’ve paid for. I'm Oskar Fevre, at your service.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” Alex said.

“...do you know, of all the indignities that have happened to me here, this might well be the worst. It seems you made quite the profit. My patron will see you rewarded, my betrothed, I should say. Assuming Lady Jannath still wishes to marry after our little... falling out.”

“What happened?” Alex asked.

“She offered me a future, so in a fit of madness, I told her my past. Of the woman I loved before she found me. Love still in the truth. She was less than pleased.”

Alex put his palm over his face. Never talk about your exes. Oskar wasn’t deterred by Alex's reaction and continued his story.

“I made a timely retreat into the countryside. To paint and clear my head. To choose a purpose.”

“A truly horrifying dilemma,” Alex said, trying not to roll his eyes.

“Indeed – one to split the very soul. But I dare not dwell on it any longer lest I weep. And we have your reward to consider – once I have made my way safely back to the city. Say, I don't suppose you could spare some coin, could you? Ease the discomfort of the road some?”

Alex stared at the man. “Well, thank you. See you in the city. Until Baldur’s Gate then!” Oskar said as he walked past him and headed where Alex had come from.

Alex shook his head as he watched Oskar leave, amused and somewhat exasperated by the eccentric artist.

...

As Alex stepped outside, he saw something big flying in the air. Focusing on it, he realized it was a red dragon, just like the one that tried to burn him when he escaped the capsule. For better or worse, the dragon descended and landed somewhere nearby.

He walked to the mansion's main yard and spotted Karlach and Wyll, followed by Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae'zel. The Flaming Fist raised their guard, but Alex walked past them.

"What in the Nine Hells just happened here?" Karlach asked, stopping and looking around.

"The Absolute cultists attacked this place, killing everyone they could and capturing a duke called Ulder Ravengard."

Alex could see Wyll stiffen.

The counselor approached him and looked at the group, her eyes stopping on Wyll. "Wyll? By the Maimed God, what has become of you?" she asked with a surprised expression.

"A story left for calmer days. Now, are you in pain?" Wyll asked, walking next to her.

"A scorched throat, a few hairs singed off. Nothing a bit of time and fresh air can't cure."

"What happened to Father?" Wyll asked, worried.

"Father?" Everyone asked together behind Wyll, except Alex.

"A group of drow and goblins came here. Attacked us and managed to kidnap the Grand Duke," the counselor said.

Wyll looked down, buried in thoughts.

"You must have little love for your father after what he did to you, but please try to save him," the counselor said.

"Trust us to see this through, Counselor."

"Go, you should pick up the drow trail with ease. I will seek reinforcements and join you when I can. Remember, courage is found in the battle against fear, not in the defeat of it."

"So, Father said. I won't soon forget," Wyll said with a small smile.

The counselor walked away to help with something while everyone turned to Wyll, who sighed.

"Shit. You can put distance between you and yesterday, but it will never leave fully behind. Father's words—hard to argue with them. Florrick spoke true. I'm the Grand Duke's son."

"And not just any Grand Duke. The most influential in the city if my memory serves me right, and for once, I think it does," Shadowheart remarked.

Did she have some kind of memory loss? Alex asked himself.

"If your daddy is such an important figure, then why are you here?" Astarion asked.

"My father and I were close, once upon a time. Until he disowned me and cast me out of Baldur's Gate. I can't tell you more. The pact forbids it. My lips are quite sealed, literally. He made me an exile. That said, I'm not about to let him suffer at the hands of his captors."

"What do you think the drow want for your father?" Gale asked.

Wyll opened his mouth, but Alex was faster. "They want to tadpole him."

Everyone turned to him.

"The Grand Duke, if he falls under the Absolute's control, can lead the whole Baldur's Gate to ruin. Imagine if all of Baldur's Gate's population gets tadpoled."

Everyone's faces paled at Alex's words, even Wyll. Only Lae'zel kept looking at the sky, in the direction the dragon landed.

"You can speak at the camp more. We should move to where that red dragon landed," Lae'zel said.

"Why?" Wyll asked.

"Tsk. That was a red dragon. The mount of a dragon rider."

She walked past them.

"Follow me," she said.

As they moved closer to where the dragon landed, they could hear yells and screams. After a bit of sneaking, they came closer to what looked like a one-sided battle. A group of githyanki wearing silvery armor were talking about something. Flaming Fist corpses lay around, and a big dragon sat looking around.

Alex could feel a mind close to them, hiding in a bush. He signaled for the rest to stay put while he checked the bush. As he came closer, a tiefling woman with blonde hair and pale skin emerged slowly, bow ready, an arrow pointed at Alex's head. Alex put a finger to his lips and pointed to the githyanki a bit ahead and below them.

She seemed to understand the gesture and lowered the bow, the arrow still nocked. As Alex moved back, the woman spoke to him.

"Listen. Avoid the bridge. I doubt a fight with that lot will go your way. No offense. I'm getting out of here. There's got to be another way to Baldur's Gate. Good luck," the woman said as she walked past them.

Alex spoke with Lae'zel, who was staring at the githyanki.

"You should go and speak with them," Alex said.

Lae'zel climbed down and walked to them. All the githyanki turned their eyes on her. Even the dragon peeked at her, with an arrogant gaze, like it was watching a bug.

"Raider! My time is short. Lead me to the creche," Lae'zel spoke.

"Sh sh sh," the raider said, lifting his hand. "Such a familiar tone. If I were not merciful, I would have peeled the skin from your meat. Yet you are not bleeding. For I am nothing if not merciful. Your name, child," the raider commanded.

"Lae'zel."

"Lae'zel, proud, regal even. A ghaik vessel has fallen from the sky, Lae'zel. Thieves aboard had taken a weapon most precious. Take word to the creche, you will join our creche. Speak up, child, affirm your mandate."

"Tsk. My mandate, honored kith'rak, is to locate the creche. I was infected aboard the ghaik ship and need to be purified. Your mandate is to aid me."

"Purified? Oh, Lae'zel, why must the truth be so bitter?" he asked in a mocking tone. "Your skin will go grey, and your blood will run silver. You will shed your skin to become a ghaik." He raised his hand and pointed to a bridge, not the one broken behind him. "Follow that road. The creche is inside the monastery. After you are purified, you will join us in the search for the weapon."

"Yes, honored kith'rak."

"Everyone, move!" the dragon raider commanded.

The kith'rak jumped on the red dragon, took off, and flew away. The rest of the githyanki separated from each other and ran away. Luckily, no githyanki ran to where Alex and the rest were standing.

"We must go back to find Zeus and tell him to move away from the ship," Karlach whispered. They looked at Lae'zel, who was looking with dreamy eyes at where the dragon was. Feeling everyone's gaze, she walked back to them.

They walked back to the beach, and the ship wasn't there anymore.