Baldur's Gate 3: Story of Tiff

This is my Baldur's Gate 3 playthrough as Tiff the Tiefling bard. As with all other stories, click the images to enlarge. Click on the links to view the hidden NSFW screenshots - you need my password (ask me here or find it on my Facebook account) We start with screenshots from the epic intro video:

This is the pool that thing came from - the parasite now writhing behind Tiff's eye. The casing is fragile. The slightest touch could cause it to crumble. Tiff reaches out to destroy it. 

"Yes! You've come to save us from this place, from this place you'll free us!"

The exposed brain quivers in expectation.

"Please, before they return. They return. A newborn. Born new from this husk."

Tiff realizes he's talking to an intellect devourer, a minion of the mind flayers who abducted him.

"You sound afraid. Why?" Tiff said "The enemy. So many enemies." "I think you're past the point of saving. Tell me what to do." "Remove us from this body - from this case free us. Please!"

Tiff gently prises the brain from the skull.

The brain lifts from the skull, but Tiff notices an opportunity - he could cripple the strange creature,  making it more subservient should it prove a threat. Tiff decides against harming the creature...

The creature pauses, listening. Something behind Tiff's eye seizes in recognition.

"We must go to the helm. At the helm we are needed." "What's at the helm?" Tiff said. 

The brain tenses, as though querying an unseen advisor.

"Do you not hear it? We will not survive here. We are needed to navigate - we are needed to leave this realm." "What should I call you?" Tiff wondered. "Us. We are Us." "All right. Let's go." "To the helm. We are going to the helm."

Tiff was surprised...

"Abomination. This is your end," she said.

Tiff's head throbs and his skin tingles. Visions rush past: a dragon's wing, a silver sword - and a flash of his face seen through the strange woman's eyes.

"My head. What is this... ngh. Tsk'va. You are no thrall. Vlakith blesses me this day! Together we might survive," she said. 

"What made you think I was a thrall?" Tiff said. "We carry mind flayer parasites. Unless we escape - unless we are cleansed - our bodies and minds wil be tainted and twisted. Within days, we will be ghaik. Mind flayers," she said. "We are turning into mind flayers? There must be something we can do?" "We can do nothing until we escape - that must be our priority. First, we exteminate the imps. Then we find the helm and take control of the ship. As for that thing - it will remain tame as long as it believes we are thralls. It may be of use in the fight to come."

Tiff kills the first imp with his hand crossbow. US kills the next with its claws. Lae'zel engages the last imp and kills it with a mightly blow with her sword.

"You prove surprisingly adequate in battle. Now - to the helm," she said.

"The ship won't be able to take another dragon attack. We need to get out of here before it's too late," Lae'zel said. 

Tiff approached the alien console trying to comprehend what its use might be.

"Istik - back! Touch nothing without knowing its purpose," Lae'zel said.

Tiff ignore the githyanki woman and pressed the middle button. The tortured cultist were reanimated and attacked them. Tiff and Lae'zel had no problems defeating the enemies.

Another woman, trapped inside one of the pods desperately called for help...

"You! Get me out of this damn thing!" she said. "We have no time for stragglers," Lae'zel said. 

The constryction is too alien. Nothing looks familiar as Tiff tries to figure out how to release the trapped person.

"The ship is crashing. Do you intend to die for a stanger?" Lae'zel said. "I'll look around - there must be some way to get this thing open," Tiff said. "Try that contraption next to the pod - they did something to it when they sealed me in. Hurry! Please!" the woman said. 

Tiff and Lae'zel continue. There is another woman trapped inside another pod. As Tiff places his hand on the pod, he hears something: A presence connected to the pod, commanding the person inside to... change.

"Kaincha! Changed at the pull of a lever? How? If we are not purified, this may be our fate," Lae'zel said.

The console appears dormant. There's a socket in the console, shaped like the rune Tiff found. He inserts it. The console hums to life...

But what is its purpose? Will it free the captive, or transform her like that other unfortunate? The pulsing glow and organic lines of the device make it seem more like a beating heart than a machine. This device is different from the one that caused the other captive to transform. Perhaps it will open the nearby pod. Suddenly Tiff feels a hideous squirming in his head. The parasite. Then discomfort fades, and another sensation washes over him. Connection. Authority. Tiff feels the biomechanical brain of the console process his command... and tield to it. A shiver runs across his mind... Tiff feels sated.

"At last... thought I was done for. I thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin. Thank you," Shadowheart said. 

"What's that?" Tiff said. "It's nothing. Trust me," Shadowheart said. "Enough of this chatter. We need to get to the helm - now," Lae'zel said. "She's right. Lead on," Shadowheart said.

"Not now - we must go to the helm," Lae'zel said. "Who are you and why are you helping me?" Tiff said. "Who am I? Your only chance of survival. Now move. You are wasting time."

"We are nearing the helm. Once inside, do as I say," Lae'zel said. "Who put you in charge? I'll trust my own judgement," Shadowheart said. "Kainyank."

The helm was a battlefield. Two mind flayers were fighting Cambions...

"Thrall. Connect the nerves of the transponder. We must escape. Now," the surviving maind flayer commanded. "Do it. We will deal with the ghaik after we escape," Lae'zel said. 

First they killed the imps, then they all ganged up on the Cambion commander. The mind flayer was injured as well as the Cambion. More imps blocked the path to the transponder. Tiff and Shadowheart quickly dealt with those and soon the Cambion was dead. But now the mind flayer turned on them. Us fell quickly to the tentacled creature's attacks. The mind flayer was badly injured and succumbed to the party's attacks. But two more Cambions had entered the helm and were now threatening the party - as if the threat of another dragon attack causing the ship to crah wasn't bad enough. 

"Tsk'va! Hurry - before they strike!" Lae'zel urged.

The helm's alien transponder - the party made it in time...

As Tiff awakes, the tadpole squirms in his skull. Other than the infection, he's more or less intact. A miracle, given everything Tiff's been through. But it'll all be for nothing if he doesn't find help soon. The tadpole is a death sentence, and the clock is ticking. He needs a cure.

"Fresh water. There must be a settlement nearby."

"You're alive. I'm alive. How is it possible...?" Shadowheart said. "Perhaps it was some dramatically timed divine inter´vention?" Tiff said. "The divine tend to keep their interventions close to the chest. Though I suppose it's not impossible." "What happened to our gith friend?" "You might want to reconsider calling her a friend - looks like she ran off without us," she said. "We should look for her - she might be injured, or worse." "You're more concerned for her than she is for you, clearly. We need to take care of ourselves. First things first - we need supplies, shelter, and most of all, a healer. We might have escaped, but we still have these little monsters in our heads." "Do you have any idea where we are?" he said. "No... I don't recognize this place. But anything's an improvement on where we just came from." "You want to stay together, I take it?" "We need each other, and we both know what's at stake. I can't think of better company," Shadowheart said. "All right, let's get moving." "One thing, just before we go. I wanted to thank you again, for freeing me. It would have been all too easy for you to run past my pod, but you didn't. I'll remember that. Lead the way"

"Won't get that open easily. Maybe there's another entrance," Shadowheart said.

Tiff and Sjhadowheart ran into a couple of intellect devourers. They defeated the creatures with little effort.

"Hurry, I've got one of those brain things cornered. There, in the grass. You can kill it, can't you? Like you killed the others," Astarion said. "Kill it yourself - you look capable enough," Tiff said. "I was so hoping for a kind soul. Well, not to worry."

As Tiff turned around and started to walk away Astarion seized the opportunity and grabbed the tiefling and put his dagger to the tiefling's throat. But the dextrous tiefling bard defended himself, they fell to the ground and Tiff rolled free of Astarion's grip.

"I saw you on the ship, strutting about while I was trapped in that pod. What did you and those tentacled freaks do to me?" Astarion said. 

"Put the knife away and maybe we can talk," Tiff said. "You'll talk. I can. Argh," Asrarion said.

Tiff's mind twists. He's looking out of unfamiliar eyes, prowling dark, busy streets. He trie to hold the memory, but it fades to the worm. The light. The fear.

"What was that? What's going on?" Astarion said. "It's the mind flayer worm - it connected us," Tiff said. "The worm, of course. That explains things. Somewhat. And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies." "Glad to see we're all caught up now." "Indeed we are. Please, allow me to introduce muself. My name's Astarion. I was in Baldur's Gate when those monsters snatched me," he said. 

Tiff told him his name and story...

"My my, you've been busy. So, did you learn anything about these worms while wandering the ship?" Astarion said. "Yes, unfortunately. They'll turn us into mind flayers," Tiff said. "Turn us into - ha. Hahahaha! Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect? Although it hasn't happened yet. If we can find an expert - someone that can control these things - there might still be time." "Control it? We need to get rid of it." "Well yes, of course. But first things first," Astarion said. You should travel with me. Our odds are better together." "You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea. And anyone that can crash a mind flayer ship and walk away seems like a good person to know. All right, I accept. Lead on."

Tiff approaches the dying monster. This is the thing that abducted him. He could end its life here and now, if only Tiff didn't feel... Compassion. No. Tiff should be furious... shouldn't he? Yes, he feels hate. And he deserves to be punished for it. He should be whipped - made to bow before this creature in shame. It's possessing Tiff's mind, forcing him to... love it. But then the feeling slips. The creature's mind seems to focus elsewhere. Tiff concentrates on its thoughts. Their minds fuse, lusting for something that is... gone. But then its grip claws back with a vengeance: a vice locking Tiff's mind into obedience. It needs sustenance to live, and with his very body Tiff can provide. The tiefling resists the intrusion with everything he has. The monster lies exhausted, defeated. It's eyes - wet, orange pearls - radiate malice.

Tiff stomps on the mind flayers head. It's skull sqishes to goo.

"Monster. Death is too good for it," he said. 

"Zorru was right. Yellow as a toad, and twice as ugly," Damays said. "The thing's dangerous. Leave it for the goblins to kill," Nymessa said. "And if it escapes? How will you - Oh! A guest."

Tiff's skull pounds in response to the prisoner's white-hot stare. Her lips don't move, yet he hears her voice.

"Get rid of them." "Oh, gods! You've caught a scout, the gith force is right behind me - save yourselves!" Tiff said.

"Hells, this isn't worth it. I'm out of here," Damays said. "Enough gawking - get me down," Lae'zel said. "Say 'please'." Tiff said. "Never."

"The tadpole hasn't yet scrambled all your senses. Auspicious. But the longer we wait, the more it consumes. My people possess the cure for this infection. I must find a creche: you will join me," Lae'zel said. "Careful - she obviously sees your kindness as a weakness. Don't let her take advantage," Shadowheart said. "And what exactly is a creche...?" Tiff wondered. "It is many things. A hatchery, a training grounds, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear: when infected with a ghaik tadpole, we must report to a ghustil for purification," Lae'zel said. "A simple 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss." "You may as well suggest a wyvern bow to worms. The cure I offer will suffice as thanks." "All right, we journey together. Let's find this creche," Tiff said. "You have made an ally from Creche K'liir - few know such fortune. Call me Lae'zel." "I'll trust your judgement - but I won't trust her. Not until I've gotten a measure of her," Shadowheart said. "You've a sharp tongue, elf. Would that your mind proved its equal." "Half-elf. I suppose the finer details are lost on a creature like you." "Come. The horned ones mentioned a camp. One there - this Zorru - has seen githyanki. A creche must be near. We will ask this Zorru where he has seen my kin," Lae'zel said. 

Lae'zel silently crept up on the thug and pushed him off the ledge. The fall didn't kill him outright but left him in a bad way. The other three thugs were surprised.

With a precision shot Tiff severed the rope holding the heavy block. It crashed through the floor instantly killing the two thugs below it. That left the mage and the injured thug. The mage was quickly taken out by several shots and the thug Lae'zel had pushed off the ledge was never allowed to recover in time to defend himself. 

The group approached the door...

A muffle voice spoke out from inside...

"That you, Grimblebock? Everything all right out there?" "Grimblebock triggered some trap. He needs help - now!" Tiff said. "I told him it wasn't safe out there. Get inside, and I'll rustle up some bandages..."

The thug never stood a chance after realising his mistake of öletting the party inside.

"You look so... unusual. Githyanki are rare in these parts," Tiff said. "I expect I am your first," Lae'zel said. "I know of githyanki, but I've never met one." "Of course you haven't. They would have cut you from navel to neck. You are no less alien to me than I am to you. I know of your kind, but I do not often encounter them. That large, fleshy nose of yours looks like a mistake." "Really? Thanks for noticing"" he said. "It was an observation. Not a compliment. No matter. I do not intend to stay long in this place." "Do you know much about mind flayers?" "I understand much beyond your comprehension. More to the point, I know the cure for our condition. It is imperative we locate a creche. You'd do well to observe more and question less," she said. "Do you know what happens if we don't find a cure?" "Yes. In great detail. It starts with a fever and memory loss. Then you start to hallucinate. Your hair falls out and you bleed from every orifice. Your bones will change form. Your jaw will split to allow room for four great tentacles. All skin will turn to gore, and be shed to reveal new flesh underneath. Then you have ceased to exist, and a mind flayer is born." "That sounds awful. How are you so calm?" Tiff said. "Because I do not intend to let this happen. Not to me, and if you stick with me, not to you. We must find my kind and be rid of the parasite. It is as simple as that. The first symptoms should have long since started, though. That is what puzzles me." "You're worried we haven't changed? This is good news." "Yes. If you give it no further thought. But anomalies lead to surprises. Bad surprises. Besides, what hasn't happened may yet come to pass," Lae'zel said.

In the next hallway, behind the door opened by a lever, the party fought and defeated another group of outlaws. Then, after some more exploring, they found a room with four sarcophagi. There were gas went they discovered in the floor. And both sides of the room had several gargoyle heads ready to spew fire if someone was foolish enough to tamper with the sarcophagus in the middle of the room. But on one of the pillars in the room, the party discovered a hidden button. Pressing it disabled the fiery trap. But that was only after they had placed vases on the vents. Inside the central sarcophagus they found a necklace with the power to speak to the dead. 

This book is far lighter than it should be with such a massive lock.

Shadowheart channels a spark of divine power into the lock...

As the lock opens, a loose page comes with it. Magic pulses from the parchment.

What was once script is now an obliterated scrawl. Shadowheart has a sense these are names, a list, but of what? Gods. These are the names of gods, once lost, but now retored after the Second Sundering. The last three names in this book sit close together, but are so devastated by the scrawl as to be unreadable. Entire pantheons have dwindled and been reborn, silently recorded by this book.

A hidden button opened a secret chamber but it also raised the dead. The party had little trouble dealing with them. 

"So he has spoken, and thou standest before me. Right as always. What a curious way to awaken. Now I have a question for thee: what is the worth of a single mortal's life?" Withers said. "Quite the question. What's the reason for it?" Tiff said. "Curiosity. Nothing more. Wilt thou answer my question?" "Yes. Ask away." "So I ask again: what is the worth of a single mortal's life?" Withers said. "A life is only worth as much as the legends remember it." "A life and how it is lived are different equations. Very well. I am satisfied. We have met and I know thy face. We will see each other again at the proper time and place. Farewell."

Tiff approaches the sigil on the stone. Magic glitters and swirls from it erratically, as if malfunctioning. It looks slightly dangerous.

"A hand? Anyone?" a male voice says.

"Oooof, hello. I'm Fale of Waterdeep. Apologies, I'm usually better at this."

"Are you okay?" Tiff said. "A bit shocked, but friend, it's a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Say, but I know you, don't I? In a manner of speaking. You were on the nautiloid as well," Gale said. "Never mind the nautiloid. How did you get stuck in that stone?" "I don't know what transpired exactly, but the ship broke into pieces and I suddenly found myself in freefall. As I was plummeting to certain death, I spied a glimmer quite near where I estimated my body to impact with less-than savoury proplulsion. Recognising this glimmer to be magical in nature, I reached out to it with a Weaving of words and found myself on the other side as it were. How about you? How did you survive the fall?" "To be honest, I haven't a clue," Tiff said. "Fair enough. But even so, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy. Back on the ship, you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region, were you not?" "Couldn't have phrased it more repellently myself." "No use sugarcoating it, is there? The inseteee we speak of, this parasite - are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation it will turn us into mind flayers? It's a process known as ceremorphosis, and let me assure you: it is to be avoided. You don't happen to be a cleric, by chance, do you? A doctor? Surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?" Gale said. "You seem to know enough about our condition to realise it is beyond most clerics' skills," Shadowheart said. "Most, no doubt. But I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few. You don't happen to be one of them?" Gale said. "I can tend to basic wounds and ailments, but alien parasites? I'm afraid not," Tiff said. "As we've established, few enough can. It's not exactly a common affliction. We're most certainly going to need a healer, and soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together?" "Sounds like a plan. You're welcome to join me." "Oh, but I see now you're travelling with plenty of company already. Perhaps I can join you later instead. I'll make my way to your camp, and embark upon a succulent slow-cook to be consumed upon your return," Gale said.

Tiff raises his palms to calm the boar. The boar grunts and eyes him warily with its beady eyes.

"Don't worry. I won't harm you," the tiefling bard said.

The boar shuffles its trotters, unsure. Then it dashes away into the wilderness. 

"Goblins are on our tail. Open the gate, Zevlor. Now," Aradin said. "You led goblins here? Where is the druid?" Zevlor said.

"Please! There's no time!" Aradin said. 

"By the Nine Hells. Open the gate!" Zevlor ordered. 

"Kanon. No!" Zevlor cried.

"Shit. Form a line!" Aradin said.