The Tale of Gerrold the Selfish (BGII)

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I wanted to experiment with a dual class fighter/thief, but one who did not dual by choice. I was thinking that Irenicus’ “experimentation” could possibly lead to amnesia and a chemical imbalance in the brain of the protagonist. Thus, he will not remember anything about his life until his fighter side reactivates. So, I started a fighter through BGI and TOTSC, rolled him into the ridiculous god I wanted to wind up with (95 points in 5 minutes of rolling: 18/52, 18 con, 18 dex, 18 int, 14 wis, 9 cha) made him chaotic-good (I’m going to play him chaotic-neutral/evil in BGII, but not pure evil, as his former self is inside his head making editorial comments after a fashion), started BGI intending to get him all of the tomes – and almost lost my mind going to the Friendly Arms Inn. Man that game was great when it came out, but slow and boring is all I can say now.

Shadowkeeper will have to serve: I’ll recreate him in SOA, bump the stats accordingly as if I got the tomes, give him the 161,000 exp, make him chaotic neutral, and dual him right away. Hey, let’s make him a berserker (more in line with the mental imbalance concept). He’s got two stars in dual wielding, one in single weapon style, two in longswords and one in longbows. After dualling, he’s got one star in daggers and one in short bows. I decided that he would be pathological about finding traps and picking locks to start (his first memory of his new life is going to be waking up in a cage), so that those two stats would take all of his attention. Once maxed, he’d move on to hiding and being silent, then he’d be interested in picking pockets, detecting illusions and setting traps. One last note: I no longer remember exactly what mods I have going, but I am sure that there are Ease of Use, Items, and Tactics, and maybe Sola and Kelsey as well. I don’t think Ascension is on, but we’ll see. On to the adventures of Gerrold the selfish (presently a level 1 thief, with a level 8 berserker lying dormant in his head). I've got about 80 pages done (my guy is into TOB by now, as I've been doing this for a month or more), so I don't know if it makes sense to post this stuff or what -- comments, critiques, questions, are all welcome:


“... Wake up, you! Wake up! Come on, we have to get out of here!”

What the hell was that? Who was yapping in my ear? My head feels like it’s about to explode. Where am I? Who is this irritating girl? Will she ever shut up? Wait – who am I? Concentration leads to nothing. Not a memory to be found before this headache. Well, well, isn’t that swell.

All right, take this from the top: “Who ... who are you?” Let’s see what that gets me. Certainly not peace and quite or a calmer head.

She chirped: “Who am I!? I guess he messed with your head too, huh? I’m Imoen. We lived in the same place for years.” She actually chirped! I need to strangle her before my headache gets worse. But still, she might know something I need to know.

Also, another thing. It appears that I actually know (or at least knew) this irritant. So much for my taste. My opinion of myself sunk remarkably as she blathered on for a while, and the only thing important that came out of her mouth was my name: Gerrold. Well, that’s a start. With a little more prompting and playing the headache game (not that hard considering how much my head hurt), I got from her that I was/am a warrior – makes sense with these beefy muscles and the fact that I can use my body pretty much the way I want, that she was with me when I was ambushed near some place named Baldur’s Gate, and that someone stronger than us was using us for some pretty painful experiments until he was attacked by some assassins. I also found out that I was the son of a god, Bhaal, not that that was any particular surprise. You don’t look like I do and have my intellect without divine parentage. Still this Bhaal apparently managed to get himself killed. That can’t be easy for a god, unless gods aren’t what they are cracked up to be. I will be more careful than my ill-fated father, although winding up here did not increase my opinion of myself in the slightest. I would have to improve on my past performance.

Well, back to figuring out how to get out. Also, there are a bunch of dead assassins around. I’ve got to figure out where they came from and what they were up to – they need to be paid back if they had anything to do with me being here, although it really looks like they may have inadvertently helped me. Also, I’ve got to do something about the guy that gave me this headache. There’s a debt of pain that should be fun to repay.

Imoen finally seems ready to stop running her mouth. Time to get that relationship straightened out in a hurry. She doesn’t know it, but she’s a meat shield until I get too tired of her talking, then she’s excess baggage that needs to be sent to the dump. The way she’s going, I give her less than five minutes after I get my hands on a weapon. I seem to remember liking long swords and long bows, but right now a dagger seems more my speed. Maybe a short bow too. Hmmm.

“Fine,” I said to her last yammer. “I’m moving, but I don’t take kindly to your orders.”

That brought her up sharp. “I’m not going to step on your tail. You’ve been the responsible one forever, and I don’t plan on making changes here.”

She seems to be coming along nicely. It took her only two or three minutes before she managed to tell me that there are weapons and gear in another room. I see a couple of misfits in some cages over on the other side of the room, but best to get some gear first. I don’t need to be empty handed when figuring out if they’ll serve as additional meat shields or if they need to be left here. Maybe I knew and used them before my ambush along with Imoen, as it was clear that Imoen had been my stooge for a long time.

 

He's still finding out what's going on, but there is a battle or two in the next excerpt:


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I went into a room with a weird “thing” standing there, doing nothing, and Imoen tagged along. I had Imoen talk to it, and she said it was a golem. It seemed to be in charge of the jail, but could do nothing with us for some reason. I got nothing out of it, not even the name of the jailor.

I picked up a bit of leather armor with some metal studs on it that I found in a chest. There was some better stuff, but I just didn’t feel like putting it on. I knew what to do with it, but it just didn’t appeal right now. There was a small buckler that seemed fine and a short sword that I suppose I could use as well, although it didn’t feel all that comfortable – well, I guess I’ll practice with it for a while. A long sword was there too, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch it either. Weird, maybe something about this headache. Not good. If I’m the son of a god, I shouldn’t have any problem using any weapon around, but I had no desire to use the heavy cutlery. In fact, I had a practical aversion to the stuff. I wonder if the guy who gave me this headache had anything to do with this set of affairs.

Imoen picked up a staff and some leather armor that she stowed in a pack rather than putting on. She muttered, “just in case,” and I didn’t feel like finding out in case of what. Before I left the room, I sensed something odd about one of the paintings and, before I really thought about it, removed a trip wire and lifted the painting. There was a locked safe there, but I couldn’t figure out what to do with it. Imoen glanced my way and came over. She looked at the lock and started to do something with it, ultimately picking it. I paid careful attention and knew that I could do the same thing the next time I saw a lock like that. Clearly, my talents were such that I could do anything I set my considerable mind towards mastering.

Imoen noticed my scrutiny and quirked an eyebrow. Apparently, the old me was not into this particular aspect of life. I grunted that I was branching out and left it at that. She did too, so I guess I satisfied her curiosity. I think I will limit my conversation with her for the time being, as I do not know how to act like my former self. Less is more.

Inside the safe was a dagger that looked a little sharper and better than average make, and a couple of potions that I immediately knew were healing potions. I pocketed the lot of them and walked past Imoen into the main jail.

Well, let’s see who else is cooped up here. I had lifted a key while I was in the golem room, so maybe that would unlock the cages.

In one of the cages was a large, bald man who ranted as soon as he saw me. Apparently, his name is Minsc and he traveled with me before, as Imoen knew his name. I played along as if I remembered him and he went on for a while. Well, he’s clearly several arrows short of a full quiver, so my opinion of my former self went up. Big, beefy, stupid meat shields are great to have and keep with you. Now, to figure how to get him out, as his cage appears welded shut. Calls for some thought. Oh, he’s still talking. Maybe he’s shared too many adventures with Imoen, as he has some of her characteristics.

“A hero succeeds and a hero never stops short of his goal!” That ended a rant where he babbled about some woman that died under his charge, and, blah, blah, blah. Maybe I need to find earplugs before I get out of here.

I absently responded, “He also needs the key or switch! I don’t know where they are!” And that set him off. He went mad. Foaming at the mouth, grabbing the bars, pulling, the whole thing. Sort of like a temper tantrum but more fun to watch. He got so into it, he actually bent the bars apart enough to get out. I was fingering my dagger, ready to put an end to the ill-advised attack I expected, when he calmed down and started to praise me.

Apparently, his small mind decided that I enraged him on purpose in order to send him berserk enough to pull himself out. He accused me of being as smart as “Boo.” After a couple of minutes, I figured out that Boo is a rat (hamster, rat, what’s the difference?) that Minsc carries around with him. If it keeps him happy and between me and my enemies, that’s fine. If it eats my food, it’s carrion. My head was simply throbbing by this point.

He was not nearly as quick as Imoen, so playing him would be easier than skinning kobolds. He also was a likely “charge out in front and shout your warcry” type. That might cause some problems, but it would certainly allow me to wade into battle after the attention was focused elsewhere. If I can find a bow, there won’t be any wading at all.

The next cage contained a half-elf woman named Jaheira. Up to now, we were all humans, but what do I care who comes with me so long as they are useful to me? Except gnomes and halflings. I can’t stand the filthy buggers and won’t have anything to do with them unless there’s something really great in it for me – then, I’ll tolerate them until I can kill or otherwise dispose of them.

She was another bossy one. She was also another loser that apparently wanted to, but couldn’t, keep someone else alive. She mentioned Khalid, her husband, and how he is missing. I don’t know if she’s worth keeping, but, until I figure out where I am and how to get out, the more meat shields the better. I told her she could come along for now, but we’ll see. She also obviously knew me from before. She was more like Imoen that Minsc, in that she had a brain that was subject to some use. However, she was also like Imoen in that she liked to hear herself speak. I will limit my conversation with her to grunts as much as possible and stay away from philosophical discussion, as I would likely wring her neck during an argument.

I told the two new shields about the arms and armor and they came back in short order with the best they could get. Jaheira looked particularly uncomfortable with her spear and managed to convince Imoen to give up her staff and take a sword instead. Whatever. At the end of the jail was a room with some kind of mirror-like thing, but Imoen seemed to think it was a portal. In any event, none of us could use it, although I found out that Imoen knows some magic spells on top of being able to pick locks, and Jaheira was some kind of Druid. Minsc was obviously a warrior, but he claimed to be a ranger. With that brain, I doubt it, but stranger things have happened.

We wandered through some dead bodies to a room with a strange device shooting lightning. I sent Jaheira in to shut off the device and pointed her to a likely looking switch. A small flying being attacked, but she and Minsc, who ran in to fight, made short work of it. I got a look or two from Imoen and Jaheira, but my obvious headache and surly disposition generated by it kept them off my back. I think I need to keep Minsc on a shorter leash. Then again, with this pulsing headache, better that he goes ahead and exterminates anything in the way.

In the next room over, a weird being (a djinni) with an unpronounceable name came out of nowhere and, after admitting it knew me but had nothing to do with getting me ambushed, asked me a stupid question about pushing a button to set someone else free – and I get to die for the privilege. As if I would kill myself to help someone else. I told him as much through a stab of pain in the back of my head. He brought in some gibberlings and disappeared again. I took out most of the gibberlings myself by the simple expedient of holding them off with one hand and knifing them with the other, but Minsc squashed one with a mighty blow that seemed to shake the room. Once we dispatched those pesky vermin, the djinni reappeared, told me to find Rielev, and disappeared again before I could carve him another mouth below his chin. Oh well, I assume that he’ll be back again and I will kill him then.

As we ambled through this lovely gallery of pain, we hit a room with huge canisters and another of those flying things (mephits, I’m told), that launched some steam at us. Good thing I was bringing up the rear, or I would have gotten knocked out like Jaheira did. After we killed it, using the simple tactic of Minsc charging it and me running up behind it with my dagger, while Jaheira moaned on the ground (my turn to give her a look), Imoen started going on about being in that room before. I cut her short as quickly as possible, because my head was finally starting to feel better and I didn’t want her nattering to bring back the pain, but she did say something interesting that led me to believe that my captor knew my divine status and was trying to do something with it. Perhaps I could become stronger than now. Food for thought.


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This was actually kind of fun to write, because I've played the game enough so I don't really think about the interactions, motivations and the like any more. It also allowed me to do some creative writing instead of just legal papers (which can be creative as well, but not as fun). I also find myself editing it in different ways as I post it here.