Prototype's Gate

Tav carefully took the horn, turning it over in his hands as Gale inspected it with a discerning eye.

"Hmm, there's something magical about this horn," Gale muttered, his brow furrowing in concentration. "It seems to possess some kind of tethering enchantment."

Meanwhile, Lump lumbered back toward the dilapidated house where Alex had initially found him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"Now that we've dealt with that," Tav said, breaking the silence, "we should start searching the area. We might find something useful."

Karlach, Lae'zel, and Astarion entered one of the houses, while Alex, Tav, Gale, and Shadowheart chose another. The air inside was carrying the scent of dried herbs and old wood.

"This place looks like an apothecary," Tav observed, noting the herbs strung up along the ceiling and the various glass bottles filled with mysterious liquids.

The group scoured the room, taking everything that seemed remotely useful—herbs, oils, trinkets, and even some cured meats. As they rummaged through the clutter, Tav's eyes landed on a dusty book tucked away in a corner. As he flipped through its brittle pages, he found a reference to a hidden cellar.

Intrigued, they searched further, and soon enough, Alex discovered a hatch concealed beneath a threadbare carpet. "I'll go first, just to be sure it's safe," he volunteered, lifting the hatch and descending the ladder.

At the bottom, Alex found himself in a ferly large, dimly lit room. The walls were lined with shelves filled with old books, vials, and various instruments for potion-making. He examined the space carefully, and behind a stack of crates, he spotted a lever. Without hesitation, he pulled it. A low rumble echoed through the room as a large bookshelf slid aside, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel.

Alex quickly called up to the others. One by one, they descended the ladder to join him, eyes widening at the sight of the hidden passage.

"Everyone ready?" Tav asked, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Nods of affirmation followed, and they stepped cautiously into the tunnel. The walls were damp, the air thick with the smell of earth and decay. Shadowheart and Alex led the way, their eyes sharp and senses alert, while Gale and Tav stayed a few paces behind, ready to cast spells at a moment's notice.

The tunnel gradually widened into a cavernous chamber, where wooden coffins were scattered haphazardly across the floor. As they approached the nearest one, the sound of splintering wood pierced the silence. A bony hand burst through the coffin’s lid, followed by the rest of the skeleton. The group tensed, weapons drawn.

"Undead!" Tav shouted, his voice echoing off the cavern walls as the rest of the coffins burst open.

Alex was the first to spring into action, his movements a blur of lethal precision. He counted eight skeletons—three armed with crossbows. He dashed toward the nearest one and delivered a bone-crushing punch, pulverizing the skeleton’s skull into dust.

Shadowheart followed, her mace crackling with divine energy as she hurled a golden orb at another skeleton, incinerating it on contact. But as she turned, Alex noticed a crossbowman taking aim at her. Before he could react, Gale unleashed a firebolt that struck the skeleton, sending it reeling. Tav seized the opportunity to cast a lightning spell, and the skeleton collapsed in a heap of charred bones.

With three down and five to go, Alex caught sight of a bolt speeding toward his head. He snatched it out of the air with practiced ease, then performed a flawless front flip over a sword-wielding skeleton to reach then skeleton who had fired it. In a single fluid motion, he grabbed the skeleton’s skull and slammed it into his knee, shattering it completely.

The last crossbowman, seeing his comrades fall, raised a skeletal hand and cast a vile spell. A cloud of green smoke enveloped Alex, the stench of decay overwhelming his senses. He felt his insides begin to rot, but his body regeneration, healed the damage almost instantly. Unfazed, Alex picked up a small pebble from the ground and hurled it with deadly accuracy, shattering the skeleton's skull into fragments.

He turned back to see the remaining skeletons attacking his companions. Shadowheart was holding one at bay with her shield, while Tav and Gale fired spells, their attacks sometimes missing but more often hitting their marks. Alex dashed toward them, sweeping his leg under two skeletons, toppling them like brittle statues. He then crushed their skulls beneath his boots. The last two skeletons met their end swiftly—Shadowheart smashed one with her mace, while the other was incinerated by Tav and Gale’s combined firepower.

With the threat vanquished, the group stood amidst the scattered bones, breathing heavily. Everyone stared at Alex, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief—except for Shadowheart, who was scanning the room but occasionally shot him curious glances.

"What?" Alex asked, slightly confused by their intense gazes.

"You were incredible! Have you remembered anything about who you are?" Tav asked, his voice filled with excitement.

"I wouldn’t be surprised if you were some legendary master wandering the world in search of challenges," Gale added with a friendly smile.

Alex shook his head. "Thanks, but no… it just felt instinctual, like the right way to handle things."

Shadowheart’s voice broke the momentary silence. "Guys, look at this," she said, pointing toward a large, ornate mirror embedded in a stone wall at the far right of the cave. Crates and sacks laid pilled around it.

"We should search the area for any traps—those skeletons might not have been the only surprise here," Tav suggested, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room.

The group spread out, carefully examining every nook and cranny. In their search, they found a dusty tome titled "A is for Azuth and Other Gods II" and a scroll with intricate runes inscribed on it.

"What’s that?" Alex asked, peering over Gale’s shoulder as he examined the scroll.

"This is a Scroll of Summon Quasit," Gale explained. "We can use it to summon a quasit, or I could learn the spell and call upon it whenever we need. A quasit might be useful, especially if it knows something about this place."

The group agreed that Gale should learn the spell.

"Alright, everyone, step back while I perform the ritual," Gale instructed.

With a few fluid hand movements and an incantation whispered in an ancient tongue, Gale summoned the quasit. A small, impish creature materialized before them, it's large eyes staring at them.

"You’re not Shovel’s master," the quasit remarked, its voice high-pitched and accusing.

"I’m afraid your master left you behind," Gale said, trying to sound sympathetic.

The quasit’s expression darkened with a hint of sadness. "Master promised I could eat a baby the next time he summoned me."

Everyone recoiled in disgust, except Alex, who initially thought it was a dark joke. But seeing the others' reactions, he quickly realized the quasit was dead serious.

"I can’t allow you to eat babies, but if you come with me, you’ll get to scare plenty of people," Gale offered, attempting to bargain with the creature.

Shovel’s eyes gleamed with interest. "Really?" it asked, its voice filled with a mix of hope and excitement. Despite its sinister appearance, the quasit managed to look almost endearing with its wide, puppy-like eyes—eyes as black as onyx.

"You have my word," Gale said, giving a slight bow, a smile playing on his lips.

Shovel began to jump around gleefully, its sinister grin returning.

"Shovel, do you know anything about this mirror?" Gale asked, pointing at the ornate glass embedded in the stone wall.

The quasit paused, tilting its head as it considered the question. "Hmm, master used it sometimes," Shovel replied after a moment of thought.

"Are there any traps around it?" Tav asked, his voice laced with caution.

Shovel pondered the question, its tiny brow furrowing. "No, there are no traps," it finally answered, its tone confident.

With this new information, the group gathered around the mysterious mirror, the air thick with anticipation.

Gale leaned close to Tav, his voice low and urgent. "We should tread carefully. Quasits aren’t exactly known for their honesty."

Tav gave a subtle nod of agreement. "Right. Let's check the mirror, but keep your eyes sharp for anything out of the ordinary."

Gale turned his attention to Shovel. "I’ll unsummon you for now," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

Shovel's dark eyes drooped slightly in disappointment, but the creature nodded. With a few intricate hand gestures, Gale sent the quasit back to its own plane. The air felt a little lighter as the imp vanished, but the tension in the room remained palpable.

They stepped up onto a creaking wooden platform, their boots echoing in the eerie silence. As they approached the mirror, its surface shimmered, and a ghostly blue face materialized within the glass.

"Declare your purpose," the face intoned, its voice echoing with a hollow, otherworldly resonance.

Tav and Gale exchanged a glance, their eyes communicating a silent understanding. They raised their hands in unison, focusing intently on the mirror. Their fingers moved in precise, arcane patterns, weaving together strands of magic. After a tense few moments, the mirror slid down with a heavy, grinding sound.

"What did you do?" Alex asked, his eyes widening with curiosity.

"We freed the soul trapped in the mirror," Gale explained, a hint of weariness in his voice.

"Not an easy task," Tav added. "The necromancer Shovel mentioned must have been incredibly powerful."

"That explains the skeletons," Alex said, piecing it together.

Gale nodded gravely. "Necromancers often leave such horrors in their wake."

They stepped through the opening into the necromancer’s laboratory. The room was vast and shadowy, with a long wooden table at its center, stained dark with old blood. Bones were scattered haphazardly across the floor, and a grim assortment of tools lay nearby. To the left and right were smaller rooms, their entrances obscured by darkness, and a cold, unused fireplace loomed in the corner.

Shadowheart’s expression tightened as she surveyed the room. "I sense something foul here," she whispered, her voice tinged with unease.

Gale and Tav both nodded, feeling it too—a lingering presence that seemed to crawl beneath their skin.

Shadowheart moved cautiously toward an iron-barred door on the left. The moment she stepped near it, there was a faint click. In an instant, Alex’s instincts kicked in. He lunged forward, tackling Shadowheart to the ground just as a barrage of darts shot from the walls, embedding themselves into the stone floor where she had been standing moments before.

Alex helped Shadowheart to her feet. "You alright?" he asked, concern in his voice.

Shadowheart glanced at the darts, then back at Alex. "Thanks. You saved my life."

"Just doing what needed to be done," Alex replied with a modest shrug.

Tav rushed over, his eyes wide with concern. "Is everyone okay?"

"I’m fine," Shadowheart assured him. "Alex got me out of the way just in time."

"What about you, Alex? Did any of the darts hit you?" Tav asked, eyeing him closely.

Alex shook his head. "I’m good. But we need to be more cautious from here on."

Everyone nodded in agreement, the close call serving as a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in every shadow. This time, Alex took the lead, stepping carefully over the pressure plate that had nearly cost Shadowheart her life. He peered through the iron bars into the room beyond.

"It’s filled with spider webs and small cocoons," Alex reported. "There’s a stone table with a book on a pedestal. The cover… it looks like someone’s stretched a human face over it."

Tav’s eyes widened in horror. "You mean scratched?"

Alex shook his head. "No, it’s like the skin has been stretched tight over the cover. It’s grotesque."

The group exchanged uneasy glances.

"Maybe we should leave that book where it is," Shadowheart suggested, her voice tight with apprehension. "I’ve got a bad feeling about it."

Gale, however, seemed intrigued. "If I can get a good look at that book, I might be able to identify its origins. It could contain powerful spells."

Tav weighed their options for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, but let’s be careful. Alex, can you get the door open?"

Alex knelt by the door, making sure his hands were covered as they transforming into thin, precise tools. With deft movements, he manipulated the lock, listening intently until he heard a satisfying click. The door creaked open, revealing the ominous interior of the room.

On either side of the entrance, gargoyle statues with gaping mouths loomed, their stony eyes seeming to watch his every move. Alex approached the pedestal, examining it closely. His eyes narrowed as he spotted a small pressure plate beneath the book.

"The pedestal is rigged with a trap," he announced, his voice steady.

Gale frowned. "If we take the book, who knows what could happen? The whole room might come down on us."

"Then let’s look around first," Shadowheart suggested, glancing nervously at the statues.

"I’ve got an idea," Alex said, heading back to the main cave. He returned with a rock in hand, his expression determined. Gently, he lifted the book from the pedestal and replaced it with the rock. Everyone held their breath, but nothing happened.

"Smart move," Shadowheart remarked, a hint of admiration in her voice.

Alex handed the book to Tav. It was as disturbing as Alex had described—a human face, its mouth contorted into a silent scream, stretched across the cover. Its eyes were two glowing purple gems, cold and lifeless.

Gale studied the book closely, his brow furrowed in thought. "Do you recognize this?" Tav asked, turning the book over in his hands.

Gale shook his head slowly. "No, I’ve never seen anything like it. But I can tell you this—it’s either a tome of necromancy or dark magic."

Tav tried to open the book, but something seemed to hold it shut, as if the very air around it resisted his efforts. He decided to stow it away for now, but the weight of its presence lingered.

"I’m not sure it’s wise to keep that book," Shadowheart said, her voice laced with caution.

Gale nodded in agreement. "She’s right. The book could be cursed. It’s dangerous to carry something like this."

Tav glanced at the others, his expression torn. "Maybe… but we have Shadowheart with us. If the book is cursed, she can cure us. And who knows? It might come in handy later."

Reluctantly, the group agreed, but the unease remained. They didn't find anything noteworthy but a secret button who made one of the wall slide down reveling the room with the ladder to the surface .

As the group emerged from the underground, Karlach, Lae'zel, and Astarion were already waiting, perched on a cluster of crates with an air of restless anticipation.

"How are you all holding up?" Tav asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"We're fine," Karlach replied, her tone steady. "But we found something unsettling beneath the village—a spider nest."

Tav’s brow furrowed with worry. "Did anyone get hurt?"

Karlach shook her head. "No, we’re all in one piece. Astarion did most of the scouting. We were lucky to have him. Facing a nest full of spiders the size of horses would have been a nightmare."

Tav nodded, his mind already racing with strategies. "We need to take care of them. If we leave the nest unchecked, they’ll eventually come to the surface, and we can't risk them hunting for food up here."

Astarion’s elegant features twisted in mild disgust. "Must we really? I have no qualms about getting my hands dirty, but spider blood is particularly vile."

His complaint was met with a few raised eyebrows, but Astarion merely shrugged, unapologetic.

"We’ll deal with it tomorrow," Tav decided. "The sun’s setting. Let's head back to camp and rest while we can."

________________

As they approached their camp by the beach, a solitary figure stood in the flickering firelight. Wyll, waiting with a heavy expression that seemed to reflect the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Wyll," Tav greeted, lifting his hand in a friendly wave.

Wyll’s eyes immediately found Karlach, who crossed her arms and met his gaze with a steely resolve.

"I’m grateful you were there to stop me from doing something unforgivable," Wyll said, his voice carrying the burden of regret.

"You were tricked. It's not your fault," Tav assured him.

"Even so, I acted rashly," Wyll muttered, his eyes dropping to the ground as if ashamed.

Tav walked over and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Come sit with us. We can talk about it together."

They all gathered around the fire, the warmth of the flames chasing away the evening chill. As they recounted the day’s events, Alex listened intently, piecing together the story of how Wyll had nearly taken Karlach’s life on the orders of a mysterious source who had falsely branded her a murderous devil.

Wyll’s voice was thick with remorse. "Karlach, I’m truly sorry."

Karlach’s eyes narrowed, her voice edged with bitterness. "This is what happens when you make deals with devils."

Wyll looked taken aback. "What? How did you—?"

"Wyll, I’m not an idiot," Karlach interjected, her tone sharp as a blade. "You’re a warlock. It’s obvious your patron sent you after me. Who is it?"

Before Wyll could answer, a slow, deliberate clapping echoed from the shadows.

"Smart and strong. No wonder Zariel wants you back," a familiar, taunting voice chimed in.

The group shot to their feet, weapons at the ready.

"Mizora," Karlach hissed, her fists clenched.

"Indeed," Mizora purred, her presence dripping with malice. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wayward pet to discipline."

With a snap of her fingers, a circle of fire erupted at Wyll’s feet. Dark, viscous tar surged up, encasing him from head to toe as he crumpled to his knees in agony. The fire died down as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Wyll transformed. His once-human visage now bore long, curling horns and ridges that marred his skin. Alex’s breath caught in his throat as he realized Wyll had been turned into a fiend—a tiefling.

"Much better," Mizora said with a satisfied smirk.

Wyll’s voice trembled with fury and disbelief. "What have you done to me?!"

"Haha, nothing much." Mizora replied with a cruel chuckle. "I just made you a fiend, and don't even try to undo it. Not even Zariel could undo this magic. And remember, our contract still stands. Ta-ta" With that, a ring of flames enveloped her, and she vanished, leaving behind only the acrid smell of brimstone.

Tav turned to Wyll, his expression grim. "Wyll, we need to hear the whole story."

Wyll sighed, the weight of years pressing down on him as he took a seat on a nearby rock. "When I was seventeen, I was drawn to the outskirts of the city by an inexplicable force. There, I stumbled upon cultists of Tiamat, preparing to summon the draconic goddess into our world. I was foolish enough to think I could stop them alone, but they overpowered me easily. That’s when Mizora appeared, offering me her power in exchange for my soul. I was desperate... so I agreed. Together, we destroyed the cultists. But the price was higher than I imagined."

He paused, his voice faltering. "I couldn’t speak of what had happened, bound by the terms of our pact. When my father, Ulder Ravengard, returned and saw me with a devil at my side, he demanded answers. But I couldn’t tell him the truth. The evidence of the cultists’ ritual had disappeared, leaving me with nothing but shame. My father exiled me, banishing me from Baldur’s Gate. Since then, I’ve wandered the frontier, trying to serve the city from afar, protecting the innocent while being bound to Mizora’s infernal will."

Gale nodded sagely. "Devils always know when to offer a deal."

Lae’zel scoffed. "Only a fool would make a deal with a devil."

Her blunt remark earned her a few sharp looks, but even Shadowheart begrudgingly agreed. "She’s not wrong."

Tav placed a hand on Wyll’s shoulder once more. "We’ll find a way to break your contract. You’re not alone in this."

Astarion sighed dramatically, covering his face with one hand as if the very idea of altruism was exhausting.

Turning to Karlach, Tav asked, "What did Mizora mean when she said Zariel wants you back?"

Karlach hesitated, her fiery demeanor dimming slightly. "That’s a story for another night, Tav. Let’s just enjoy what peace we can tonight."

Tav nodded, sensing that now wasn’t the time to press her for details.

After some more conversation, Alex approached Gale, who was immersed in a book, his face bathed in the warm glow of the firelight.

"Hello, Gale," Alex said, his voice tentative.

Gale looked up, smiling warmly. "Alex. Do you need something?"

"Yes... could you teach me about magic?"

Gale set his book aside, his eyes sparking with interest. "How much do you know about the Weave?"

"Nothing," Alex admitted.

"Then let’s start at the beginning," Gale said, his tone gentle. "The Weave is an essential element of the universe. It runs through everything in unseen threads. It is what makes magic possible. The Weave is considered many things, including Mystra's body, the source of magic, all the studies of casters, arcane and divine alike, and the many energies and forces that exist around the planes. Many see it as a 'fabric' on which magic is 'drawn,' and damaging the fabric causes magic to go awry. Preparing a spell is a means by which a small amount of the Weave can be 'contained' and transported for a specific effect, while the casting of a spell is equivalent to telling the Weave to rearrange itself to create the effect."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "The Weave is often seen as an extension of Mystra, the goddess of magic, though it’s more complex than that. It’s not magic itself but the means by which magic can be channeled and understood. It’s like... the canvas on which magic is painted."

Alex listened intently, his curiosity growing. "Who is Mystra?"

Gale’s expression became momentarily distant, as if recalling a memory long buried. "Mystra is the goddess who governs the Weave, ensuring that it remains in balance. Without her, magic would be unpredictable, chaotic."

"Do you have any more questions?" Gale asked, his tone now lighter, more approachable.

Alex shook his head. "Not for now. Could you show me how to cast a spell?"

"Of course," Gale said with a smile. "Let’s start with something simple."

He raised his palm, and a small orb of light materialized above it, glowing softly. "This is a basic spell—producing a ball of light. Watch closely."

Alex marveled at the light, noting how it mimicked the sun’s glow without producing any heat.

Gale approached him, taking his hand. "Now, I’ll guide you through it. Close your eyes and imagine a stream of water swirling into a whirlpool. Once you’ve formed that image, imagine it condensing into a ball and filling with light."

Alex did as he was told, concentrating hard. He felt a strange energy gathering in his palm, and when he opened his eyes, a small ball of light floated just above his hand. He stared at it, awestruck.

"Well done," Gale praised, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You’ve got a natural talent."

"How long will it last?" Alex asked, watching as the light began to flicker.

"A few seconds," Gale replied. "This spell doesn’t require much power, so it fades quickly."

True to Gale’s word, the light soon blinked out of existence.

"This spell is simple, but it has many variations," Gale continued, summoning another ball of light, this one shifting colors like a rainbow. "See what I mean?"

With a flick of his wrist, Gale sent the orb floating towards Alex, who caught it, the light now clinging to his palm.

"Now, I suppose you’re eager to learn something a bit more... explosive?" Gale asked with a knowing smile.

Alex nodded, excitement bubbling up inside him.

Gale raised his hand, conjuring a fiery orb this time. "This is Fire Bolt, a basic offensive spell. Watch closely." He hurled the orb at a nearby rock, which was instantly engulfed in flames.

Alex felt the lingering heat radiating from the rock as he approached it, his eyes wide with amazement.

"Your turn," Gale said, stepping back. "Focus the Weave into your hand like before, but this time, think of fire—its heat, its power. When you’re ready, shout 'Ignis' and release it. And remember, don’t hold onto it too long, or it might explode in your hand."

Alex took a deep breath and tried to focus. His first few attempts were shaky, nearly scorching himself in the process, but eventually, he succeeded. The Fire Bolt shot from his hand, striking the rock with a satisfying burst of flames.

"Well done," Gale said, genuinely impressed. "You’re picking this up really fast."

Alex shock his head . "I’m just a fast learner, I guess. Does anyone actually see the Weave?"

Gale shook his head. "Not usually, though some creatures might have that ability. But for now, you’ve made great progress. Practice that spell a bit more, and tomorrow we can dive deeper into the mysteries of magic. Goodnight, Alex."

"Goodnight, Gale. Thanks for everything."

Gale gave a small bow and headed back to the church, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts.

Alex lay back on the warm sand, gazing up at the starry sky. The night was alive with unfamiliar sounds, and the crisp, unpolluted air filled his lungs, bringing with it a sense of serenity he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Above him, the sky was painted with a mesmerizing aurora borealis, its colors swirling in ethereal patterns.

"So, this is the Weave," Alex mused, raising his hand and summoning the small ball of light once more. It flickered into existence, casting a soft glow over his face.

"Beautiful," he whispered, admiring the delicate orb.