As they explored Baldur’s Gate north of Jaheira’s house, looking for clues to the location of the Bhaal cult holding Lae’zel, Shadowheart stopped short. She was staring at a non-descript building at the edge of a canal. “The House of Grief “, she said, “Shar’s cover in Baldur’s Gate. This is where I grew up. This is where my parents would be held”.

Inside were pamphlets extolling the virtues of forgetting pains and sorrows – healing through letting go. The woman at the door made snide comments to Shadowheart, wondering how she dared show her face here. They insisted she participate in a “Mapping of the Heart” before being allowed to enter the Temple proper. This was a Sharan ritual where ones deepest fears an failings are mapped in meditation. When it was completed, the inquisitor demanded that Shadowheart remember her. At first she could not, and then her eyes widened.

Mother Superior. Mother Superior Viconia DeVir.

Apparently Jaheira and Minsc had a history with Viconia, and exchanged some terse words abouts having the displeasure of meeting her again. Viconia merely told them that “It would be wise not to interfere in what was to come.” She then bid Shadowheart to come speak with her below, opened a door hiding stairs leading below, and vanished.

The area below was much bleaker and darker than the upper temple – which had been sanitized for the masses. They passed several areas which Shadowheart remembered to one degree or another. Areas which were currently strangely empty…
There was a torture chamber, where she had been made to learn “enhanced technique” for interrogation and persuasion. She shuddered at what she could remember of what she had been made to do.

There was a room with assorted clothing and outfits. A room to learn the arts of disguise. Shadowheart stared wistfully at these. Among her favorite lessons had been here, where she could pretend – for at least a while – to be somebody else.

An echo of a memory led to her to a hidden panel opening to a secret grotto, were night orchids grew around an underground stream. She said this had been here hideaway. Her place of refuge.

Then the proceeded in to a large open area of the temple, where Viconia awaited in the center. Acolytes and Justiciars lined the perimeter, silently watching and waiting.
Viconia demanded that Jasper turn over Shadowheart to her for judgement, and to hand over the Prism which had been her mission. Jasper asked why she wanted it, and she replied that she planned to use it to control the Absolute after Orin, Gortash, and the Githyanki had weakend each other fighting over it. He responded that she had no more claim to Shadowheart. She no longer answered to Shar.

And with that, battle commenced.
Minsc charged in to engage Dark Justiciars to allow the others time to take a more defensive position.

Jasper used mass illusions to keep the Sharans confused and unfocused.

While Jaheira buried them in massive ice storms, freezing them solid.

Viconia was clever and stealthy, and appeared from nowhere stabbing Shadowheart in the back!

But Shadowheart was no longer the confused girl Viconia remembered, and returned to her decades of abuse – with interest.

When Viconia lay defeated and cursing, she spat at Shadowheart to finish the job. To slay her and be done with it. She told her how she had made her torture her own parents, not knowing who they were. She told her how Shar had explicitly ordered her to kidnap young Shadowheart, to twist a daughter of Selune into her own replacement. But Shadowheart saw through what she was doing. Trying to goad her into killing in anger. Trying to solidify Shar’s hold. Shadowheart merely smiled humorlessly and walked away – echoing Viconia’s own doctrine back at her. “My parents are all that matters now. I care not what happens to you. Embrace Loss, *Mother*”

They headed further back, into the deepest depths of the enclave. The passed the great Mirror of Loss, which had been used to steal so may of Shadowheart’s memories. Wiping her mind clear every time her inherent nature began to rebel against the teachings of Shar.

And then they came to her parents, suspended in arcane restraints. Her Mother no longer appeared aware and present – muttering and singing to herself. Her father, however, recognized her. “Is this my Jennevelle? Brought before us to be erased once again?” But Shadowheart cried out “No father. Never again. I’ve come to free you!”

But it wasn’t quite to be that simple. Shar’s visage appeared and laid out the true choice. Her final petty revenge. As long as her parents lived, Shar’s hold on Shadowheart would remain. She would reach in through the connection and torture her at will. Without end.
Shadowheart was torn. It was an agonizing dilemma. Literally. And Jasper did not feel he could tell her what to do. It was her life, and her parents. It must be her decision. His only advice – talk to her parents before choosing. And her father gave an unequivocal answer. “We kept going all this time. We perservered through it all – with the dream that one day you would be free. We are ready to move on. We are ready to join Selune. Shar will never let go without a price. Do not let that price be your future. Do not let our suffering have been for nothing”.

And so she chose. She chose to honor her parents’ wishes. They dissolved into Moon Motes… messengers of Selune. They could not hold her. They could not speak to her. But they would always be there. Watching and Guiding.

Back outside she made her way to an old, forgotten shrine. A relic of long ago she had once known. And cried over the loss of her parents. And the loss of her memories of them, and their memories of her. Jasper comforted her as he could, but as the moon rose he saw there was one other with whom Shadowheart needed to speak.

And so he left her to become reacquainted.

This is not that long a quest in game. The final battle is quite large and hectic – with sharans shadow-porting all about and throwing mass quantities of darkness and the like. But of all the companion quests it feels the most… real. The competing natures of Shar and Selune couldn’t come through any clearer, and Shar’s vindictive pettiness in twisting the knife one last time – just because she could – fits her to a “T”.


Leave a Reply