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Summary
One night in the middle of the woods, Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion shared stories around a campfire. Gale spoke of wizards, Jen of cultists, Wyll of devils, and Astarion of vampires.
OR
BG3 meets “Are You Afraid of the Dark?”
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"Jen, may I have the bag of wood chips?" Gale asked, and she handed it to him. He took a sip from his glass and held it up so that the flames made the whiskey appear as if was glowing. "This is some of the finest whiskey from Waterdeep, a land known for it's unique cuisine and vast cave systems, but there's something, or rather someone, whomst time has all but forgotten. I only know of him because he is my great-great-great uncle."
“The one you're named after?" Astarion asked.
Gale nodded. "Indeed. His name and mine are one and the same. However, while I am merely a professor, he longed to be amongst the gods. His story is one of hubris, folly, and relentless ambition." Gale set his glass down and leaned forward. "Submitted for approval to the Midnight Society, I call this story…" He grabbed a handful of wood chips and tossed them on the fire as he said, "The Wizard of Waterdeep."
Series
- Part 9 of 🎃👻🕸️ Spooky Season Fics 🕸️👻🎃