Baldur's Gate 3 Oneshots & Short Stories

Bloody The Mirror pt.2

The party finds the real Tav, but the finding was the easy part.

Content warning: violence and injury, descriptions of violence

Noncanonical events outside main story, no spoilers.

Word count: 1571

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"Almost done, my dear. You've done so well so far."

White spots fill your vision and tinnitus fills your ears. Below you is a growing puddle of your own blood and tears. Your mind and body are broken almost beyond your own comprehension. One of your teeth that's been wrenched from its place rests in your mouth. You swear you can still hear the mixture of your screams and her cackles echoing off the cavern walls. All you hear now are your own ragged breaths, and the delighted chuckle of Sybil as she moves to stand directly before you.

"Last question my dear: which of your little friends is your favorite?" Her words are laced with sweet malice. You bristle at the notion of her abusing your romantic feelings; Sybil crushing your personal joy for the sheer fun of it, as though taking it away from you is not painful enough. Anger pierces your dazed state. You respond by spitting the blood covered tooth at her face. It leaves a small cut on her wrinkled cheek as it flies past her. She snarls, her pinpoint pupils burning as she lunges forward.  "Listen here, you abhorrent rat," she hisses. Her breath burns your eyes and her teeth so close to your face it makes you cringe. "I can split your skull and take that little creepy-crawly from your brains. I can slurp down every bit of knowledge your pathetic self has to offer, but I haven't. So you -"

"And you won't." Your eyes go wide. Sybil peaks over her shoulder at the fool who dares step foot in her lair. Wyll's voice is confident and commanding, and very, very welcomed. "Release our companion, and your death will be a swift one."

Sybil's smile grows, splitting her flesh and stretching all the way up to her ears. A soft chuckle grows into a loud bellowing laugh. She circles behind you and brings her face next to yours. One arm wraps protectively around your torso, claws piercing your flesh with a yelp of pain. Her other claw grasps the sides of your face, forcing you to look at the warlock. You feel your own blood run down your cheeks.

"Look at that, dear. One of your friends came down to play." Relief and dread storm you simultaneously. You crave freedom, but want nothing more than to ensure safety for your companions. Even through your roiling fear, Wyll's confident stature and knowing look pierces through your doubt. Sybil is swift to interupt that comfort. "Let's give him a few friends to play with."

Relief is temporary as gaunt, dastardly figures clamber all along the cavern. Wyll remains steadfast, even now surrounded by a dozen doppelgangers. Sybil holds you tighter, forcing you to watch as this horde of screeching monstrosities stare at your friend with murderous intent. Before you can blink, three have leapt from the walls, talons ready to tear flesh from bone. The hoarse scream burns as it's ripped from your throat.

"NO!"

Wyll stands for them in patient defiance. Blood rains from them as they're shot and killed before they hit the ground: an arrow shoots into one of their open maws, another arrow lands in one of their eyes with a loud squelch, and the third is burnt to a crisp by radiant light. Wyll didn't even blink. Surprise stuns you and your capture silent; the silence only being broken by the three corpses hitting the ground, until Wyll speaks one last time.

"And so you've made your choice."

Roars of pure rage erupt from behind him as all your companions come charging out from behind the stone. Their battle cries, however, clash with the shrieks of the doppelgangers that descend upon them. Steel meets flesh, spells fire off, but the monstrosities don't make for an easy battle. Sybil remains by your side, and her claws push ever slowly into your flesh. She watches the onslaught like a dog watching a butcher work. She whispers in your ear with her hot, rancid breath.