Multiverse One Shot Collection - Reader Insert

Baldur's Gate 3 - Blood and Betrayal

The sun hung lazily over Baldur's Gate, casting a warm, golden hue on the cobblestone streets that bustled with life. Merchants peddled their wares from vibrant stalls, the aroma of fresh bread mingling with the tang of sea air drifting in from the harbor. Children darted between crowds, their laughter echoing against the tall, uneven buildings that framed the streets, their colors muted but softened by the light of the clear, blue sky. It was a rare, comfortable day in a city so often steeped in chaos.

The group walked with a deliberate pace, exhaustion etched into their every step. Just a day had passed since Gortash's reign of terror had been brought to a bloody end, but the weight of that victory lingered heavily on their shoulders. Karlach had remained behind at camp, her infernal engine in desperate need of rest and maintenance. The others had decided to stop at the "Blushing Mermaid" tavern for a meal before returning.

Shadowheart glanced at her companions as they weaved through the crowded streets, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. "I wonder how Karlach's holding up," she said, her gaze briefly lingering on the lively throngs of people around them before shifting to you.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "She's taken it hard," you admitted. "After everything she's been through, it's no surprise. She's tough, though. She'll push through."

Wyll offered a small smile, though his expression was tinged with concern. "She's strong," he agreed. "But even strength like hers needs time to recover."

Lae'zel, walking with her usual commanding stride, snorted softly. "She will endure. That is the nature of warriors."

The group fell into silence again as they passed a group of sailors unloading crates from a wagon. The shouts of dock workers and the creak of wood punctuated the serene atmosphere, grounding them in the here and now. For the first time in weeks, it felt like they could breathe without looking over their shoulders.

A few children ran past, nearly colliding with Lae'zel, who scowled but said nothing, her usual sharp retorts dulled by fatigue. The group rounded a corner, and the familiar wooden sign of the "Blushing Mermaid" came into view, its depiction of a cheerful mermaid swinging slightly in the gentle breeze. The tavern exuded a welcoming charm, the hum of chatter and the scent of roasted meats spilling out into the street. Shadowheart's lips curved into a faint smile. "I think we've earned this."

Wyll pushed open the door, holding it for the others. Inside, the tavern was alive with the kind of energy only Baldur's Gate could muster: travelers and locals alike sharing stories, laughter, and a good drink. The group found a table near the back, sinking into their chairs with collective relief as they waited for their meal.

Weapons were stowed against the wall with a shared sense of trust, blades sliding from belts and resting within arm's reach but unneeded for the moment. Lae'zel stretched her arms above her head, eliciting a soft crack from her shoulders as she muttered, "These city streets are as exhausting as battle."

Shadowheart leaned back in her chair, resting her foot casually on Wyll's thigh. He raised an amused eyebrow at her but said nothing, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. "Comfortable, are we?" he finally asked, his tone light.

"Very," Shadowheart replied dryly, her gaze flicking to you with the barest hint of a smile.

You stretched out your legs under the table, feeling the ache in your feet start to ebb as the warmth of the tavern seeped into your bones. "I could sleep right here," you admitted, running a hand through your hair. "If it weren't for the food we're waiting on."

The tavern's noise settled around them like a familiar cloak, the sound of tankards clinking and the murmur of conversation blending seamlessly with the lute's tune. Wyll drummed his fingers lightly on the table, glancing at the bar. "I'll grab us a round," he offered, pushing himself up from his chair with practiced ease.