In Baldur's Gate 3 With a Multiversal Gacha System?

Apologies for the delay, a sorry, here are two chapters today!

...

The beach was still warm with smoke and salt. Somewhere, a crab skittered sideways through the shattered husk of a mind flayer skull, dragging half a tentacle like it owed him money.

Fin stood over the unconscious dragonborn with his arms crossed and brows furrowed.

Ali hovered beside him, arms also crossed. The white-scaled dragonborn lay sprawled on a bed of scorched sand. Her limbs were long, muscular, and distinctly dangerous, even unconscious.

Fin tilted his head, rubbing his chin. "Alright. Hear me out. Either that's Tav, or that's The Dark Urge."

Ali hovered beside him, her arms folded, light projection flickering slightly in the rising heat. "You mean the one with the violent amnesia and a slight addiction to murder?"

"Yeah." Fin squinted. "White dragonborn, dark armour, mean aura… odds are good it's the stabby one."

Ali glanced down again. "Should we poke it?"

"That's how people die in those cheesy horror movies."

"Good. Then you're learning."

Fin exhaled through his nose and slid slightly closer, boots crunching over broken bark and scorched dirt. The closer he got, the more details came into focus. The dragonborn's chest still rose and fell, shallow but steady. A split in her armour revealed an angry, blistered wound stretched across her midriff, already clotting over.

"She's tougher than she looks," Fin murmured.

Ali snorted. "She looks like she eats nails for breakfast and insults the chef."

Fin crouched beside the body, one knee planted in the blackened sand. The dragonborn's horns curved backward from her skull like a crown of obsidian hooks. Her claws twitched faintly. Not dead. Not even close.

He nudged her shoulder with one finger.

Nothing.

He nudged again.

Still nothing.

Ali hovered beside him. "Careful. That's a murder-bender in a coma. You will get tail-spiked the second she wakes up."

Fin sat back on his heels, eyeing her warily. "I'm just trying to figure out what kind of 'Dark Urge' we're dealing with. There's the kind that kills rats in alleyways… and the kind that writes poetry with a carving knife."

"Or the kind that eats the carving knife," Ali added helpfully.

Fin winced. "Great."

A long silence followed.

"Alright," Fin said slowly, tapping the side of his head. "Let's assume this is the Dark Urge. That means they've already got the tadpole. They'll wake up horny for homicide. And if memory serves…"

Ali finished for him. "They don't stay unconscious for long."

He frowned. "Right."

Another pause.

Then he leaned in slightly and muttered, "...Is it weird that she's kinda hot?"

Ali's projection glitched briefly. "Seriously, getting horny now?"

He held up a finger. "Accidentally. In any case, she's gonna wake up any second"

Ali nodded. "And then she's going to ask who she is, what's going on, and whether or not you're edible."

Fin stood, backlit by the still-burning husk of the Nautiloid.

"I can handle her", Fin said with a grin.

"You're going to wake her up, aren't you?"

"Eventually."

"Do we have a plan?"

"I have a concept of a plan."

"Is it a good one?"

"Well, I don't know yet, do I, I'm still planning it."

Ali glanced at the dragonborn again."She twitched."

"I saw."

"You should tie her up."

"She's not an animal Ali"

"So is waking up next to a corpse with no idea who you are."

Fin cracked his neck with a grin. "If she tries anything, I'll punch her."

Ali crossed her arms. "And if she bites your face off and uses your spine to play Moonlight Sonata?"

"Then I'll die pretty," Fin said, turning toward the ocean, letting the breeze tousle his long hair.

Ali floated closer to the dragonborn, still watching warily. "I'm not shielding you."

"You're just a hologram, you can't even touch anything physical, and in any case, I wouldn't ask you to," he said, almost fondly. "You're judgy when you project."

"You're reckless when you're smug."

Then—

The dragonborn's eyes snapped open.

Blood-red slits gleamed.

Ali whispered, "...Well, shit."

Durge didn't move at first. Just breathed. Each breath sounded shallow, as if she were measuring her surroundings through scent alone. She remained perfectly still, head tilted, lips barely parted.

Then her brow twitched.

She groaned.

"...Ngh. My head..."

Her voice was deeper than Fin expected, sort of rich-sounding, with the velvet sharpness of a noblewoman. There was a faint rasp to it that added this deeper level of maturity.

Fin crouched again, hands on his knees.

"You alright there?" he asked, tone careful.

She blinked slowly, staring up at the sky like it had betrayed her.

"This is... not the Hells."

Her eyes flicked sideways, finally seeing him.

A human. In an immaculately clean and white haori, face cut sharp by the morning sun and eyes cautious but unreadable.

Her nose scrunched slightly.

"...Who… are you?"

Fin raised a brow. "Someone who fell out of the same ship as you."

Her hand went to her forehead. She hissed softly.

"...I cannot recall my name," she said, her voice quieter. "Nor where I hail from. Not a single memory remains..." 

She pushed herself to a sitting position with a grunt, scales shifting beneath her ruined armour. Her eyes darted around the crash site, taking in the smouldering wreckage, the shattered landscape, and the faint hiss of flame. A deep, instinctive growl settled in her throat.

"I fought," she muttered. "On that vessel. Aboard that grotesque thing of flesh and steel… I fought—"

Her fingers curled, claws dragging shallow lines in the sand.

"Two of them," she said. "Cambions. They attacked me as I woke… I slew them. And more. Imps. Screeching like children with knives."

Her voice darkened as she said it. The corners of her mouth twitched—not into a smile, but something stranger. Fin shifted warily, noting the way her muscles tensed.

"Right..." he said carefully. "So... still feeling murderous, or...?"

She looked back at him, head tilted like a bird watching prey.

"You are a stranger. But I do not think you seek to harm me."

Fin offered a hand. "Then how about we help each other?"

She stared at the hand and slapped it away with a clawed flick, rising on her own in one smooth motion.

"I require no crutch."

"Noted," Fin muttered, flicking sand off his palm.

But then, they both stopped.

It was sudden.

An invisible pull. A twisting in the gut. A pressure behind the eyes.

Something connected.

Fin's spine straightened slightly. Her head snapped toward him. They both went still.

Then—

Whmmmmm

Their minds opened.

Images, sensations, and emotions flooded through a tether neither had consciously formed. The tadpoles inside them began to squirm rapidly.

She saw him.

Not as he stood now, but falling, slicing through metal and laughing in the face of fire, slamming through the air like a curse-born missile.

She saw a flash of the Nautiloid helm. Of Lae'zel. Of the black flash. Of power.

Fin, in turn, felt blood. He saw firelight behind her eyes and heard the scream of dying devils.

The dragonborn staggered slightly, eyes going wide.

"You… were aboard the vessel. You fought as I did. You survived." She hissed, shaking her head. "I had thought myself alone."

Fin exhaled. "Not quite."

Her expression shifted. For a moment, the noble poise faltered. Then she straightened again, regal despite the scorch marks and debris.

"Then let us speak plainly. These parasites that writhe within us are not natural. I have no memory of how they came to be, but I know they do not belong."

Fin nodded. "Yeah. Same here. They put something inside us. Now we've got... brain stowaways."

She narrowed her eyes at him, not quite understanding the phrasing.

He clarified. "Tadpoles. In our skulls. Probably going to turn us into squid horrors if we don't do something about it."

"...Abominable."

"Yup."

She looked to the horizon, where smoke still rose from the crash site.

"Then we must seek a cure."

"You read my mind"

A long pause stretched between them.

Then she extended a clawed hand, slowly.

"I do not trust you. I do not trust myself. But if we share this affliction… then for now, we shall walk together."

Fin accepted the shake this time.

Her grip was like a vice.

"Damn. Is she trying to take off my hand?"

She smiled faintly. "...I believe I have."

Ali, still invisible to her, muttered from over Fin's shoulder. "This is going to be a fun partnership."

Fin didn't disagree.

...

Fin and the dragonborn, he was now certain she was the Dark Urge, Origin character and all walked in silence. She hadn't questioned his name. Hadn't offered hers either, mostly due to her amnesia. Just brooded, scanning every corpse they passed like she was evaluating their structural integrity... and whether or not their spines were still intact.

It was only when they passed a broken clump of rock and a melted hull that she suddenly stopped.

Fin glanced back and followed her gaze.

There, partially buried in the sand, was a familiar figure.

Dark leathers. Short, dark hair. A soft, pale glow came from the strange object clasped tightly in her hands.

"Shadowheart," Fin muttered.

He stepped forward quickly, but the Dark Urge remained rooted in place. Her crimson eyes narrowed, almost... curious.

No.

Hungry.

Fin saw it immediately, that brief flicker. A faint tensing of the jaw. The twitch of her clawed fingers. Like her instincts had recognised something wrong, something delicious about the unconscious woman on the ground.

He moved fast.

"Don't even think about it," he muttered, dropping to one knee beside Shadowheart.

The artifact shimmered in her grip, an intricate, alien-looking thing that pulsed softly with silver-blue light. Even now, unconscious, her arms remained wrapped tightly around it.

Fin didn't try to pry it free.

He'd played the game.

He knew better.

"Yeah… no touching that."

He crouched lower and grabbed her by the shoulders.

Then started shaking her hard.

"Shadowheart! Get up!" he barked.

She groaned and jolted upright, eyes wide and hand already darting toward a hidden blade.

"Agh! Unhand me—!"

Then she saw him.

The tension in her shoulders dropped instantly. Her breath caught.

"You're alive..." she breathed. "I'm… alive?"

"Believe it or not."

She looked around, the burning ship fragments, the trail of destruction, the charred corpses littering the sand.

"How is this possible?"

"Just be happy we made it," he said, helping her sit up properly.

She exhaled slowly, glancing at the others—at the white-scaled dragonborn standing a short distance away, impassive.

"True. Seems like we're the lucky ones, judging by the corpses strewn about."

They stood and began walking, the Dark Urge trailing behind them like a shadow.

"I remember the ship," Shadowheart said. "I remember the fall... then nothing."

Fin nodded. "Yeah. Blacked out halfway through the crash myself."

"Any idea where we are?" she asked, glancing around.

Fin shook his head. "Not a clue. Sword Coast, probably, but... no real landmarks yet."

Shadowheart paused, letting the breeze tug at her hair.

"I don't recognise this place. But anywhere is better than that infernal ship."

"You're not wrong."

They kept walking, the sand crunching beneath their steps, the water occasionally brushing against their ankles.

Fin broke the silence. "So… what now?"

Shadowheart hummed, scanning the horizon. "First things first: we need supplies. Shelter. And—more importantly—a healer."

She tapped her temple.

"We might have escaped, but the stowaways in our heads haven't."

Fin raised a brow. "We?"

Shadowheart's cheeks flushed faintly, her voice softening.

"We need each other. We know what's at stake. I can't think of better company right now."

Fin glanced at her sidelong, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

"Well," he said, "I'll take that as a compliment."

She looked away, hiding the faintest smile.

Behind them, the Dark Urge followed in silence.

But Fin caught her looking again.

Not at him.

At Shadowheart.

The same look.

The hunger.

And suddenly, he realised, this wasn't just going to be a fight against the tadpoles.

It was going to be a fight against her nature.

Fin said nothing. The thought crossed his mind if it'd be easier just to kill her before she becomes a problem. But for now, he was focused on collecting everyone; he'd make his decision soon enough.

But his hand drifted a little closer to his side.

Just in case.

"Ah, just one thing, just before we leave," Shadowheart said. 

"Yes, Shadowheart?" 

"I wanted to thank you again for freeing me from that pod. It would've been all too easy for you to run right past my pod, but you didn't. I'll remember that."

Fin scratched the back of his head, looking slightly off to the side.

"Yeah, well… figured you'd be useful to have around. And, y'know, not leaving people to die is kinda the bare minimum these days."

Ali's projection floated just behind his shoulder, barely visible from his peripheral.

"Ooooh, look at you," she cooed. "Being all noble and bashful. You want a sticker? Maybe a hug?"

Fin's eye twitched.

He tilted his head slightly, lips barely moving as he muttered under his breath.

"Ali. Shut up."

Unfortunately, he didn't whisper quite low enough.

Both Shadowheart and the Dark Urge glanced at him.

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow."…Sorry, what was that?"

Fin blinked."What?"

"You said something."

"No I didn't."

"You definitely did."

"I was… humming," Fin said with zero confidence. "Thinking. Hummm. See?"

He made a half-hearted humming noise, off-key and suspicious.

The Dark Urge tilted her head slowly. "You converse with yourself often?"

Fin gave the driest smile imaginable."Only when the company's this good."

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

Ali, still smirking, piped up softly in his ear."They definitely think you're crazy now."

Fin mumbled back, "I am crazy. I'm talking to you."

"Fair."

He exhaled through his nose and looked forward again, adjusting the folds of his haori.

"Alright. Let's keep moving," he said aloud. "If we're lucky, we'll find something that hasn't been set on fire or eaten by eldritch brain-spiders."

The group moved on, crunching sand beneath their feet once more.

...

Just a little ways ahead, nestled near the splintered remnants of a stone jetty, Fin spotted something half-buried near an old dock post. A weathered backpack, dark leather stained with salt and soot.

"Hold up," Fin said, jogging ahead and crouching beside it.

He flipped it open. Inside were some partially soggy papers—letters with half-melted wax seals. He squinted at one and immediately tossed it over his shoulder.

"Love letters," he muttered. "From a guy named Marcus. I don't like him."

Another letter followed it into the sea.

He dug deeper.

"Oho… jackpot," he said, holding up five gold coins. They gleamed in the light like little affirmations from the gods.

Ali blinked in beside him."You looted a dead man's last correspondence to his lover and called it a jackpot?"

"His name was Marcus, Ali."

"…Still."

He pocketed the gold and zipped the bag shut.

Then—

SCREEEEEEEECH

The sound ripped through the air like a dagger across glass.

Fin froze mid-crouch.

"Was that—?"

"I know that sound.", the Dark Urge noted.

They stepped forward cautiously, eyes scanning ahead where the beach rose into a ridge.

Another screech. Then another.

Six small shapes skittered over the hill, descending in a wave of pink, veined flesh and clawed limbs.

Intellect devourers.

Fin's eyes narrowed. "Great. The brain puppies are back."

The lead devourer shrieked, jaws clicking, and all six turned toward the party.

Charging.

Fin stood, cursed energy already pulsing through his limbs.

"Alright then…" he muttered.

He cracked his neck once and stepped forward.

The six intellect devourers shrieked as they bounded across the sand—spindly limbs skittering over driftwood and charred debris, their brain-like forms pulsating with vile psychic intent. Their claws clicked. Their eyeless heads turned as one toward the group.

And the Dark Urge stepped forward.

She said nothing.

Didn't look back.

Didn't ask permission.

She raised a clawed hand, and the air around her plummeted in temperature. Frost crackled up her arm, spreading over her shoulder and down her ribs like veins of jagged silver.

Fin blinked."Okay… she's leading."

Ali crossed her arms beside him, impressed."That's fine. I wasn't about to compete with an ice-breathing murder goddess."

The dragonborn opened her jaws and exhaled.

"Draconic ancestry, I call upon thy legacy. Let frost obey."

The first spell surged forth.

"I cast Armour of Agathys."

A ripple of blue-white energy sheathed her body. Spiked ice coated her blackened armour, glittering viciously in the sun. Her body was suddenly wreathed in frost that looked ready to stab anything that got too close.

One of the devourers lunged.

Bad idea.

It leapt for her face, only to impale itself on a spike of hardened ice as it connected with her chest. The creature screeched, impaled and writhing, as her frosted aura surged outward in response to the impact.

The devourer fell twitching at her feet.

She didn't spare it a glance.

"Ray of Frost," she hissed, flicking a hand.

A streak of blue light shot across the sand, slamming into a second devourer mid-run. Ice bloomed over its legs, instantly freezing the joint. It tumbled forward in a heap, its psychic screech cut off by a violent roll.

Another surged forward, but the Dark Urge was already in motion.

She raised both arms.

Her claws formed a wide, open gesture—fingers spread like the jaws of a beast.

"I cast Frost Fingers."

A cone of bitter cold erupted from her hands, a blast of freezing wind and razor-edged ice that swept over two more devourers. Their flesh crackled as the temperature dropped to lethal levels. The sand around them frosted over in a shimmering arc.

Both monsters skidded, limbs locking up as ice overtook their brains.

One collapsed. The other kept twitching, half-frozen, trying to crawl with numb claws.

Then she walked forward, calm, and drove her clawed foot into its skull.

CRACK.

Shadowheart had already joined the fight now, a glowing sacred flame erupting from her hands as she targeted another devourer that had flanked left. The radiant light seared the creature's side, causing it to shriek and stagger.

Fin stepped up beside her, shaking out his hands.

"Alright, lemme do something now."

He vanished with a flicker and reappeared beside the last devourer.

On a flick of his finger and the devourer's skull split cleanly down the middle. It didn't even have time to scream. The halves flopped to the sand like wet fruit, leaking dark ichor.

Fin straightened and flicked blood from his hand.

"...And that's all six."

System Notification: +5PP

He dismissed the notification and looked around.

Shadowheart exhaled, adjusting her grip on her mace.

The Dark Urge… was still glowing faintly with residual ice magic. Steam rose from her shoulders as the temperature began to normalise again.

Her eyes were blood red and sharpened and locked with his for a moment.

Fin gave her a small nod.

"Not bad, Ice Queen."

She didn't respond.

But her claw flexed slightly.

The urge was there.

Just under the surface.

...

[End of Chapter]