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As he cooked a stew, I told him my story. I told him of my mother’s line, my ancestry. He told me of his time in the Issian capitol. His place in the royal Brevic Court. A slave to torment and place in gladiatorial combat. I cursed and spoke of Tiefling isolation, Tiefling squalor. The stereotypes and exaggerated... |
That night, he merely nodded somberly. I was a preacher to the choir, a drunk bard spinning a tale of fancy. But the next day, we decided to continue traveling together. He wished to study architecture and I, as a roaming illicit bard, would be able to get him to those places. We went from town to town, village to ... |
It was after our fourth visit that he started to listen more closely to my dreams of a Tiefling homeland, of Tiefling comradery. It was then that he told me to stop talking and start doing. I brushed him off, thinking that he was teasing me. He merely shrugged and calmly went about the camp. |
Another two years passed, me becoming 20 and he 21. I began to hone my magic with what little information I could come by. He began taking small construction projects when we found towns we could stay in longer term. We never stayed longer than two months. And still we found no other Tiefling. |
It wasn’t until we were 25 and 26 that we had our breakthrough. A small, nondescript records storeroom in the Brevic capital provided me with the information I needed. A ledger of all known Tiefling in Brevoy, and their currently known locations. I reclaimed the book for my people as a guard came into the room. He ... |
The guard slammed me down to the ground. I was dazed for a moment when I heard the unsheathing of a blade. I moved to my knees and attempted to convince the guard that I was merely collecting a tome for a baron in the castle. He hesitated at this, asking me if I was one of the Tiefling courier Tad Moros’s employees.... |
I ran through the streets, nursing my tail in my hands and looking for Orson. He was approaching me, waving at me with his arm around an aging man. He paled when he saw me, blood dripping out of my hands as I pinched my wound closed. The last thing I saw before collapsing was Orson’s determined set jaw, and the man ... |
I awoke to Orson’s hand on my chest. I was laying down in a field, the stars above me. My tail had been laid gently in my lap, a bandage around a large part of the tip. Orson was explaining our tale to the old man, who was nodding somberly. I stirred, causing both of their attentions to turn to me. |
The man introduced himself as Tad Moros as Orson tipped water into my mouth. Tad had patched me up. I asked why he had left his life, as a court courier was an ideal position, providing steady income. Tad explained his own tale of cruelty, which he asked me not to share, so I will not. He had lived a full lifetime ... |
In the days that followed, I shared my vision with him. My desire for community. It was one that he shared. With the addition of Tad and the registry I had liberated, our travels became more pointed. It was no longer about survival; it was about sanctum. We found another two to add to our party, an elderly woman n... |
It was with this group that the Tiefling Front of Liberation was founded. To mark our commitment, I blew glass the way my mother taught me. We made maroon pendants lined with black and white. The golden letters TFL were emblazoned in the center. We wore them proudly. |
We searched out other Tiefling, and as the years passed, we brought many together. Families and individuals. Eventually, we could no longer keep people in our group. Too many Tiefling travelling together would raise suspicions. Instead, it was decided that Tad and Lilla would continue traveling, letting everyone kn... |
Orson happily worked on the settlement, while Hemera helped gather supplies for the construction. I worked to assuage the Restov Guard. As a result, I spent a lot of time in the city. One day, mere weeks from our scheduled departure to the Stolen Lands, I ran into a familiar woman. She was a Halfling, and she looke... |
She was the last person from my childhood left. We embraced and spoke at a hurried pace, making up for lost time. She had become a manager of a tavern nearby, a respected establishment that served landed knights and the occasional nobility. I told her of Orson, Hemera, and the TFL. Her eyes glinted, which I took fo... |
We agreed to meet up the next day, at some irrelevant landmark between the TFL settlement and Restov. But it would never come to that. That night, I was having a glass of wine with Orson. Our home was the same as all the others, and we had just gotten Hemera to bed. The first scream came by itself. Isolated in the... |
But then the screams came in waves. Orson and I leapt to our feet. He immediately grabbed his twin short swords from the wall. They were simple, nothing like the weapons he was used to from his time in the gladiator ring. What he did manage to steal from that nightmare was a mithril breastplate. It was ornate, a g... |
I looked around and grabbed my flute. It wasn’t much, but maybe I could play some magic song to calm whatever waited for us outside. |
When we left our home, the dark night was tinged with the orange glow of flames and the sound of screams and thundering hooves. People were running everywhere. Disorganized. But there was the unmistakable swirl of Restov Guard cloaks on the mounted soldiers smashing through the settlement. |
I told Orson to evacuate as many people as he could, to take Hemera and whatever he could grab. I rushed to search for the leader of the company. In the chaos, I couldn’t see where people were going, and when the mounted Guard surrounded me, my vision was completely cut off. |
I was taken to a holding cell in the city, kicking and screaming and lashing out with my tail as they wrenched my treasured flute from my hands. The last vestiges of my parents. I sat in that cell for a week, the guards refusing to give me any information. Whether they had it or not, I do not know. But my thoughts ... |
The Lord Mayor held a mock trial for me. There was plenty of testimony of me slinking about town, singing tales of a Tiefling Kingdom. This much was true. But then the lies began to come. The lurkers from the back of my crowds, scowling all the while. They claimed that I was not aiming for the Stolen Lands, but fo... |
The final witness was called, not by name but by that very title. "Final witness." I craned my neck to see who it was, hearing the footsteps but not seeing the person. With a final five thuds as a step stool was placed by the podium, Tasia’s face appeared barely above its peak. My heart soared. As a respected tave... |
She began by telling of our youth, our friendship. It was heartwarming to hear my oldest friend speak so kindly about me. But then her words turned to poison, and my mouth turned to ash. She claimed that I was a rotten child, heckling the bards and pulling girls’ hair. How I stole a beautiful flute, the very one la... |
The Lord Mayor pronounced the inevitable finding of guilt. I can barely remember the charges. Terrorism, disorderly conduct, sedition, you name it. He grandstands about the mercy of Restov, how even a Tiefling as low as me could still be of use. That my skills would allow them to reconquer the Stolen Lands. He say... |
Once the court adjourned, and all but the Lord Mayor and his guards remained, he approached me with the charter. He held the paper by the tiniest corner, his fingers barely grasping it. As he handed it to me, he asked me if he really thought that Tasia was my friend. How could I not realize that Restov would have sp... |
I did my best to take the news as it was. The betrayal hit hard, but it was to be expected. The kindness and hope I knew as a child could not be taken from me. I would hold on to that dearly. I would not let the truth, rather than the story, ruin my memories. Not this time. Orson would chide me, but I had to hold... |
The Lord Mayor appeared to be pleased by my neutral expression, stating that my shift in attitude was perfect on my lifelong path for redemption. He said that they would not let me hold on to the "stolen" flute. But that it would serve as a nice piece of art to hang in his hall. That such work must be elven craft. ... |
The next day, I was taken to the settlement. I wound my way through the dirt roads, looking for anything that hadn’t already been plundered. I reached the site of my old home. Orson did a good job of taking what was in the open. But he left my hiding place intact. He was always thinking of things like this, a spec... |
The guards took me to gather a few more supplies from a rickety vendor on the southern side of town. I managed to salvage a dented flute from the bottom of a used instrument bin at one of the stalls. It would do. It wasn’t too dented to ruin the music. |
Once I gathered my items, I was marched down the road south, never to return. My adventures thus far have been fruitful, but very dangerous. I do not have time to chronicle those now, though rest assured I still hope to do so. Once a bard, always a bard. We are to meet with Lady Jamandi shortly. About what, I am n... |
My friend, I hope you do not judge me too harshly for my friendship with Tasia. I hope you understand that all I have done has been for our people. For my partner. For my adopted daughter, if she feels it appropriate to call her that. |
I hope that our people have not lost the way, and that you are all happy, together. If you hear stirrings from the Stolen Lands, know that I am there. If the people wish to continue the plan, I will be here. I hope to see you all again one day. |
Remember: they will always wish to keep us apart, because together we are whole. |
In the Name of Our Dream, |
Alastor Screwtape |
You have a problem. |
Besides a tadpole living in your head, a lich queen actively hunting you, a cult on the brink of destroying the world, a cambion breathing down your neck, and whatever the hells else is wrong at the moment, you have a problem. |
It goes by the name of Shadowheart. |
She is not your first lover, far from it, but she is certainly your first relationship. Your past loves were solely physical, a game of meaningless lust where losing was not an option if you wanted to survive. Love had nothing to do with it. Love was a weakness. |
With Shadowheart, you've come to realize there is a truth to that. |
Never has your heart fluttered quite like it does when you see her—think of her. She can brighten your day with just a smile, draw your attention with a simple breath. Never, in your relatively long life, have you ever sought approval from anyone, but you constantly strive for hers. |
It's like she's the sun, in her bright, audacious glory. You are so out of your element under her burning gaze, yet still you are drawn to the warmth of whatever she touches. There is little you wouldn’t do for her. |
And therein lies the problem. |
She is your weakness, but you find that you couldn’t care less. |
And it's clear Shadowheart doesn't realize just how much of a hold she has on you. Clear enough that you have no choice but to comment on it. |
It's late when you and your companions retire for the day, winded from the search throughout the city for a way to destroy the city watch. It’s your turn to stand guard, and you do so with much surprising vigor. Not the most exciting thing, but you'd rather be out here than in bed, trying to will yourself to sleep. |
The (for the most part—you are above a tavern) quiet is welcome too, needing a break from the unfamiliar bustling streets of Baldur's Gate. There's no voices in your mind but your own for once, and for the first time in weeks you are alone— |
Which is immediately ruined when you hear the door behind you creek open. |
You look to see the offender of peace, and Shadowheart slinks through, closing it with a guided hand. |
Ah, ruined isn't the right word—nothing involving Shadowheart is. She offers a small smile, and you notice the bottle of wine held in her left hand. "Is everything alright?" |
She pauses before answering. "Nothing out of the ordinary, don't worry. I came to see you." |
"Whatever for?" |
"Do I need a reason to? Perhaps I just wanted to oogle my lover a bit for more... pleasant dreams," she says, sultry and suggestive. |
Your heart stutters at her flirtation. She does it so casually now, and you really should be used to it, but alas. "I wasn't aware you slept with a wine bottle, or is that a gift for my laborious shift?" |
"Well, not all of it. I'm hoping you'd like to share it with me? Someplace a little more isolated than here?" |
You contemplate the offer. "I wouldn’t be a very good guard if I up and abandoned my post, would I? It'd be quite tragic if one of our friends was murdered in their sleep because of me." |
She quirks an eyebrow. "Do you honestly believe anyone in there is asleep right now after the nightly surprises we’ve been having lately?" |
Fair point. "Maybe Boo?" |
"Boo will have plenty of warriors protecting him then, he shouldn’t miss one." Her gaze lowers, and a touch of uncertainty creeps up into her voice. "I’ll only bother you a short while, if you’re so insistent on keeping guard tonight. I just...want to be with you—alone, for once." |
That’s all it takes, really. Not that you weren't ready to ditch the work the first time she asked, but some restraint is necessary. |
The decision is the rooftop, not too far if something does go wrong, and far enough that the tavern's patrons go mostly unheard. You find yourself situated on top of the surprisingly comfortable cushions, Shadowheart using your shoulder as a headrest as you two pass the bottle between each other. |
It is... nice. Drags you back to when things were simpler, and stakes were much, much smaller. |
Well, a little smaller. You still had a tadpole in your head during the tiefling party after all. Things were unquestionably less complicated though—between the Absolute and your love life. |
You hadn't known that drink that fateful night with Shadowheart would blossom into something more, something unfamiliar and saccharine. Truth be told, your interest in Shadowheart had been less than savory at the time. She is, well, very attractive, and there is grim satisfaction in watching someone as reserved as her ... |
This drink is a lot less decisive than that, but a welcome one all the same. There is little talk between you two now, each other's company more than enough comfort for the night. It’s the most relaxed you’ve been in a while. The wine in your stomach and the warm touch of Shadowheart is enough to make you sleepy. You f... |
You jolt awake when you hear Shadowheart whisper something. After a small yawn, you give your brain time to register what she said, but nothing comes up. "Hmm?" |
"Dozing off? We can head inside if you'd like, I'd hate to keep you awake." |
"A tad bit, but it's fine. What did you say?" |
She hums the sound verberating through your arm. "Nothing of import—it was more for myself, really." |
You lean a little to place a kiss on her head. "Anything you say is important." |
A small silence follows, and for a good moment you don't think she'll say anything. She does though, her voice soft and—timid? "I was...saying thank you." |
"Thank you?" Your mind rakes through the contents of the day, looking for anything she could be talking about. "I don't recall doing anything worthy of that." |
Her fingers slide into your hand, interlocking your fingers. "You do something worth thanking every waking moment. But I meant this, specifically. Spending time with me. It means more than you know." |
There is something... strange with Shadowheart tonight. It's hard to place, but her words are spoken with a note of deference unfamiliar to hear from her. |
You frown, "Don't thank me for that, I love you. Spending time with you is the least I could—and would—do." |
"I know," her laugh is soft against your neck, but it does nothing to ease the creeping concern you feel, "and that’s why I’m thankful. You are far too good to me." |
Her words leave a sour taste in this otherwise sweet moment. This is not the first time she has alluded to similar things, and as always it bothers you. You can’t see this disparity in merit that she sees, like you’re some benevolent being deserving of only the best and she’s a lowly beggar you’ve graciously lifted off... |
(And more than her simply doesn't exist. There is only downgrading from this massive love you hold for Shadowheart, for no one else could tame the fickle beast that is your heart like she has.) |
Somewhere along the line, a thought formed, that maybe it isn’t your worth Shadowheart struggles to comprehend, but hers. |
Now is definitely not the best time to bring it up, but maybe the wine (or lack of sleep) has dulled your senses enough to decide to break the peace and confront her about it. |
"Speak truthfully, do you think you deserve me?" |
"What?" She gives an amused exhale, "Where did that come from?" |
One thing you've learned about Shadowheart, is that if she doesn't want to talk about something, she will avoid it at all costs. If you say anything at all, she will find a way to weasel out of this conversation, and you are foolish enough to let her. So you don't reply, shrugging her off your shoulder to turn and star... |
Shadowheart's smile slowly falls when you say nothing, eyes frantically searching yours for some sort of answer. It feels like you can actually hear gears turning within her head. Abruptly, she stands, the bottle rolling to the ground as her voice comes out small and stricken, "Is this...are you ending things with me?" |
What? You furrow your eyebrows, looking up at her in confusion. "No? Why would you assume I'd do such a thing?" |
"Why would you ask me that otherwise?" |
"Certainly not to break up with you. If that ever were to happen, I'd do it in a much more creative way than that." |
She scoffs, "Funny. I'd laugh, but I'm still waiting to hear what exactly you meant by that." |
"What I mean to say, is that I'm not blind—" you rise to meet her head on, staring into her narrowed eyes, "—nor deaf. I know the answer to that question, but I'm not quite sure you do." |
"Do you plan to speak in riddles for the rest of the night?" |
Perhaps you should've been direct from the start. "Per your own words, you don't think you deserve me, nor do you think you deserve parents, of all things. So tell me, Shadowheart, what do you deserve?" |
Realization dawns on her face. She adverts her eyes, clenching her fists beside her. The other shoe raises, high— "Nothing." |
And then drops with a resounding crack. It isn't surprising, you had your suspicions, but still your heart breaks at the confirmation. |
A deep breath, before exhaling slowly. You need all the air in the world to expel the rage settling inside your lungs. Not at her, no, never at her—at the unfair cards Shadowheart had been dealt when she were a child, and the damage that hand has done still to this day. "Why?" |
"After everything I've done... how could I ask for anything else? It’s remarkable you even still want to be with me. I won’t delude myself into thinking I deserve it—just savor however much time I have left with you." |
You feel like you’ve entered some bizarre alternate reality. Never once have you thought about leaving Shadowheart. Lose her, sure—but if you have any say in it, she will be stuck with you for a long time. "Does this relationship have some deadline I'm not aware of?" |
"It's inevitable, isn't it? Eventually, you’ll find someone better....someone that’s worthy of your love." |
"I fail to see how that’s not you." |
"How could it be? I’m nothing." Her laugh is empty, echoing throughout the long emptied streets. "Ever since I left the Shadowfell, I’ve come to realize just how little I know of my true self—if anything at all. I devoted my whole life to Shar, everything I did was for her, it had to be. Every waking hour spent in her ... |
(You could stop her. You could cut off this tangent and tell her exactly why she's wrong—but you won't. This is a long time coming, a wave of emotion Shadowheart has had to drown in her whole life. She needs this, even more than she needs the comfort. So again you'll wait, and just hold onto her shaking hands curled be... |
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