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It is the middle of night in the city of Baldur's Gate and the Dark Urge, the way he used to do, has sneaked into private rooms of the newest Archduke, Enver Gortash. He said he needed to talk to him, discuss something with him. And how could Gortash ever say no to some plotting with his favourite accomplice in the hours far away both from midnight as well as morning? And so they have taken seats on the chairs by the unlit fireplace. But a promising start quickly turned sour.
“Apologies, my dear, could you repeat yourself. I think I must have misheard you,” Gortash says politely. He is quite sure he has not ‘misheard’ him, there was not anything in his words he could have heard wrongly or misinterpreted. Nevertheless, he can still hope he somehow completely hallucinated them. Because there is no way his dear assassin, his favourite long-lost ally, his Dark Urge, would say something among the lines-
“I said that you should… no, you need to abandon your plans. All your efforts to dominate the brain for your own purposes. They are bad. Dangerous. You need to reconsider the path you are walking on.” His tone is calm. Gentle. The dragonborn bhaalspawn is looking at him with solemn expression with no indication this all is just some very bad joke.
Because what in the nine hells does he mean by it?
Enver Gortash was running on three hours of sleep, spite and maybe a bit of potion of speed. That is nothing new nor unusual for him. To say the past few days were stressful would be an understatement; even taking in account the entirety of how the past year went and the mental toll it took on him. When the current part of the Absolute plan started, Gortash of course had his doubts about the reliability of his allies but even in his worst nightmares he did not anticipate for it to turn into such a disaster. It started with that damned illithid going rogue, Kethric failing to obtain the damned artefact. Then he also decided now it is the best time for his immortality to stop working and his netherstone got stolen by a group of ragtag adventurers. Next Orin, the wild card she is, decided she will no longer cooperate and after that…
He could have dealt with all the things previously mentioned. He is certain he could have. He is used to both working under pressure and plans failing. Sometimes even a machine one thought to be polished to perfection decides to malfunction and needs to be fixed. Even if one wanted to apply this metaphor in his current circumstances the said machine has crumbled into a pile of scrap metal and needs to be completely reforged. He really believes he could have dealt with all of that though. Unlike with what has come next.
What he at first assumed to be the silver lining in this entire mess has turned out to be the only thing he is uncertain what to do with right now. His favourite ally, his old co-conspirator, the only person he might consider a friend once, came back. Alive. And that should have lifted some worries off his shoulder, should it not? It should not be adding another layer of anxiety that keeps rising and rising with every new wave of earthquakes.
Yes the Dark Urge was not the person they used to be. They... he changed. All his memories lost; mind wiped clear. Gortash tried to persuade himself that it still could have been fine, they could build their alliance and their trust once more. But he apparently mistook the thunderstorm for sunshine peeking from behind the clouds.
And so this is how they apparently got to this point. What does he means by ‘you need to abandon your plans’ ? Gortash is almost tempted to ask him. Almost. He does not though. Because such an idiotic unprompted suggestion does not even deserve to have anyone pointing out how nonsensical it is.
“This Absolute scheme of yours-“ the Dark Urge tries to continue but Gortash interrupts to correct him.
“Of ours! It used to be our plan. We stole the crown and the Netherstones together. We came up with the plan together. We -“
“Exactly. It used to be our plan.”
“And it will be once more. It was born only thanks to both of our brilliant minds working together. It failed only because we were apart, together nothing will stop us again.” There is earnestness in his voice. More than he usually allows to slip there but he is getting desperate. Frustrated. Why does his only ally not listen, what is so hard to understand about his words?
The Dark Urge sighs, as if he got any rights to be exhausted or annoyed by their current conversation. “My point here is that it’s not too late. You can still change,” he flails his hand towards him in offering. A creature who used to be an omen of death trying to play the role of divine saviour. “Release all the people you hold captive, dismantle your Steel Watch, help us take the Netherbrain down. It is not too late. You can still redeem yourself.”
Gortash stares blankly at the stranger who dares to wear the face of the only person who was ever worthy of his respect. And what the fuck is he talking about?
“My soul belongs to Bane the same as yours belongs to Bhaal. There is no point trying to assign any morality to our actions. Only thing that matters is whether they align with the wishes of our gods. And they approved of our scheme and goal.”
The Dark Urge laughs but there is no amusement in his words. “You see, I couldn't care less what Bhaal thinks and wants me to do.” Be careful what you wish for. Gortash hoped, imagined, what kind of alliance they could have, what they could achieve, if the bhaalspawn severed the connections to his heritage, if only he could be unburdened by his urges and his godly father’s demands.
This is not what Gortash had in mind. He takes in a deep breath, trying to find footing, next words to say.
“Bhaal be damned, all gods be damned. This is not about them, this is about you and I, this is about us ! The offer I made you-“
“I am not interested,” he cuts him short before Gortash can even paint him the glorious future he imagined for them. But that is the real problem here, is it not? It is not just the two of them against the world. With his mind broken and memories scattered, the Dark Urge naively decided to put his trust into anyone and everyone who crossed his path till now.
“You or your new ‘friends’ whispering poison to your ears?” Gortash remarks, bitterness and accusation dripping of his words.
“None of us,” he shrugs, “But their opinion does not seem to matter too much to you, so I am making my position clear. For quite obvious reasons they would be against me talking to you right now and offering you this chance. They seek to destroy the Iron Throne and Steel Watch Foundry. And then kill you too of course.”
The Dark Urge hands him so casually a declaration that plans to betray him have already been made despite his generous offer. What a pitiful threat that should get him and all his allies killed immediately. And Gortash could kill him if he wanted. His guards are just one call away, his room full of traps ready to be triggered, his crossbow leaning against the chair he is sitting on. And he is here all alone.
In what feels like a lifetime ago, Gortash knew that none of those things would be enough to stop his beautiful murderous bhaalspawn. The Dark Urge used to be able to take down a small army and still come on top covered in blood and laughing. However, this is not his Dark Urge; the pathetic creature he has become Gortash could probably kill all by himself. He should. He will probably have to…
“You are a fool and idiot for thinking you can come here, blabber your nonsense and then, what? Threaten me?” The frustration of his words falling to deaf ears is quickly turning to anger. The Dark Urge refuses to hear him, to listen. He just keeps spitting this nonsense. And worst of all he remains so cold, so unaffected, the entire time.
Like this conversation does not really mean anything to him.
“It is not a threat. I am just saying things as they are. And I only came here to make an offer.“
“You cannot make an offer when you have nothing to bargain with. What do you even hope to achieve? Are you trying to appeal to my better nature? You are wasting my time!” Gortash rises from his chair. Wanting to leave and end this stupid conversation. Wanting to hit him and then keep beating him till he starts thinking clearly again. Wanting to get at least some reaction from him…
“Enver-“
“Do not! Do not call me that! You have no right to call me that name!”
“Lord-… oh, apologies, Archduke Enver Gortash it is then?” he asks and a bit of mockery slides into their tone and for a few seconds his voice sounds so sickeningly familiar. And it is too much. Gortash feels heavy in his chest as if he just squeezed his heart the way he always promised him he will do one day. Feelings of grief he never allowed himself to feel after he disappeared, feelings he thought that he buried starts crawling from their graves.
Enver Gortash had enough.
“Get out,” his voice is cold and full of resentment that might not be aimed entirely at just his former ally. But he does not allow himself to think about it.
“I just had to try,” the Dark Urge sighs and gets up and turns his back towards him. Ready to leave, just like that. And he does not even sound really bothered, it does not even really matter to him. And as much as Gortash has not planned to say another word to him he relents because he has to ask, he want to know-
“Why?”
The Dark Urge looks back at him. There is sadness… no, not sadness – pity, in his scarlet eyes. “I think, the person I used to be, cared about you greatly. I owed it to them to try to deal with this peacefully.”
How dares he-
“If you wish to execute any favours for your past self you should slit your throat. That is what they would wish for, if they saw you now.”
The Dark Urge- no, the pathetic imposter with the same face, using the same name, chuckles. There is an edge in their tone that cuts like a dagger. “But they do not. They are dead. I am not them and they have no control over what action I will and will not take. Neither does Bhaal. And neither do you.”
“I never tried to control you, not before, not now” Gortash exclaims and it is only a half lie. He indeed never tried to control them directly, “I offered you an alliance of equals. Back then and now again, but you just spit in my face. Refuse my generosity!”
The Dark Urge steps closer to him and Gortash straightens up. They are looking into each other's eyes, both trying to find something that so clearly is not there. But at least now they emotions match. Both furious, both exasperated, both failing to understand the other.
“You are the one who stubbornly refuses to listen to what I am saying. But as you wish. I will do much more than just ‘spit in your face’. I hope you are not attached to your Foundry too much!”
“Go ahead. At least I know where I will find your corpse to pick the Netherstones from.”
There is a moment of silence. The Dark Urge is the first one to break their staring contest, taking his leave and this time for good.
“I will take it as that you gave me your final word.”
“That I did,” Gortash confirms. And this is the end then. Because his former ally starts walking away and Gortash cannot stop himself from feeling a pang of disappointment because… what? Their discussion led nowhere, of course there is no point to continue in it. He himself asked the other to leave. Neither of them would get anywhere if their argument continues. Why should Gortash care that he gave up so easily…
“Just so you know…” the Dark Urge stops in front of the window through which he got inside and through which he clearly intends to leave once more. “I think that if things were different I would have gotten to like you again,” he says and disappears.
Why… why would he say something like that?
Gortash cannot really ask him as he is already gone. He falls back into his chair. All the rumbling anger suddenly overshadowed by confusion. And is he… trembling? His eyes sting and when he raises his hand to them, he is surprised to find there tears.
It is the middle of night in the city of Baldur's Gate and in the hours far away both from midnight as well as morning archduke Enver Gortash sits all alone by the unlit fireplace finally caught up by grief that is long overdue. As if only now it finally hit him that his Dark Urge is dead for good.