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Prototype's Gate
Act 5. Chapter 34

Act 5. Chapter 34

"What a sly fucker," Lump said, leaning against the wall with his massive arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.

Halsin glanced at him. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

Lump shook his head, the smirk deepening. "At first, I thought this whole charade with that woman—Lady Firelia—was a waste of time. But it’s becoming clearer to me. Alex knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s no fool."

Halsin’s brow furrowed, still unsure of Lump’s point. "What makes you so certain of that?" he asked, his tone neutral but probing.

Lump let out a sigh, his bulky frame shifting as he leaned more heavily against the wall. "Alex isn’t just stomping around Baldur’s Gate killing monsters and toppling plans. No, he’s weaving a web, building ties with the powerful factions. Firelia Jannath, the Guild, anyone with sway over this city’s future. He’s securing alliances, ensuring that when he takes out Gortash, the chaos that follows doesn’t leave the city burning to the ground."

Halsin’s gaze dropped to the floor, his expression contemplative. The weight of Lump’s words settled heavily between them. The druid’s mind churned over the implications—not just of Alex’s plan, but the depth of strategy it implied. Alex wasn’t simply fighting to destroy; he was fighting to rebuild.

"I see," Halsin finally said, his voice slow and deliberate. "Alex isn’t merely a warrior; he’s playing a longer game. One of stability… of foresight."

Lump chuckled, the sound deep and gravelly. "Exactly. Alex is shaping the future of this place, whether people realize it or not."

Halsin’s thoughtful silence stretched for a moment, and Lump’s smirk faltered slightly as he noticed the somber look on the druid’s face. "What are you thinking?" Lump asked, his tone unusually serious.

Halsin’s amber eyes met Lump’s. "This city," he began, his voice heavy with contemplation, "it’s far from the harmony I seek. Its walls reek of greed, ambition, and corruption. Nature has no place here, buried beneath stone and smoke. And yet… there are people here worth saving. People who could rise above the rot if given the chance. Alex sees that, I think. He sees what this city could become."

Lump snorted, his smirk returning. "Didn’t peg you for someone who’d warm up to a place like this."

Halsin’s lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained serious. "Our last encounter changed my perspective. The world isn’t just forests and streams, as much as I cherish them. There are battles worth fighting in cities like this—not with swords and spells alone, but with understanding and hope. If Alex can see a path to making Baldur’s Gate a place of balance and prosperity, then perhaps I can, too."

Lump tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "You’re a good man, Halsin. Maybe too good for a shithole like this, but… it’s good to have you here."

Halsin’s smile deepened, and he placed a hand on Lump’s shoulder. "And you, Lump, for all your gruffness, have a wisdom that surprises me at times. Alex is lucky to have you."

The two stood in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their discussion hanging between them. The distant hum of the city beyond the walls served as a reminder of the chaos they were working to contain, and the uncertain future that lay ahead.

Lump and Halsin slowly turned their heads toward the door to Firelia's room as it creaked open. Shadow and Firelia stepped through, her hands trembling ever so slightly as they clung to his arm. Her normally composed demeanor was shaken, her pale face betraying the weight of whatever had transpired inside.

“So…” Lump began, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized them, “are we gonna go smash the hags or not?” His bluntness cut through the tension like a blade.

Shadow offered a curt nod. With a deliberate gentleness, he unclasped Firelia’s hands from his arm and turned to face her. “I will be back soon,” he said, his tone calm but resolute. His ruby eyes met hers for a fleeting moment before he turned on his heel and walked toward the others.

Firelia said nothing, her gaze lingering on him, as if willing herself to speak but unable to find the words. Her trembling hands fell to her sides, and she stood rooted in place, watching Shadow disappear down the corridor.

“Do you have feelings for her?” Lump’s gravelly voice broke the silence, his curiosity evident. “Do you even have emotions in the first place?” he pressed, his tone laced with genuine intrigue.

Shadow sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a growing headache. “What do you think?” he replied, his voice tinged with annoyance.

Lump grinned mischievously, undeterred. “So, do you like Firelia or not?”

“It’s not about whether I like her,” Shadow explained, his tone sharper now. “I follow Alpha’s orders.”

Lump raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you call Alex? Alpha? Strange nickname.”

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience thinning. “One more question, Lump, and then I’m done.”

“Alright, alright,” Lump said, feigning innocence. “Does… does it work? You know, down there? Do you even have a dick?”

Shadow’s eyes deadpanned, his exasperation now palpable. He said nothing.

“Oh, come on,” Lump teased. “Firelia sure looked eager to find out. Just admit it—”

Lump’s sentence was cut off as he stumbled forward, an unseen force tangling around his feet. He hit the ground with a loud thud. Shadow stepped neatly to the side, smirking as he watched Lump’s graceless fall. Halsin’s deep chuckle rumbled behind them.

Lump glared up at Shadow from the ground, muttering under his breath as he pushed himself up. Shadow simply adjusted his coat and motioned for them to follow.

Together, they made their way through the city until they reached their destination. Before them stood an imposing mansion. The plaque on the gate read “Hlath,” the letters ornately etched but dulled by time. The mansion itself was grand, with intricate stonework and high arched windows. But the air of opulence was marred by neglect. Ivy crept unchecked over the facade, and cracks snaked through the once-pristine walls. The grounds were eerily quiet, with no servants in sight.

As they stepped through the wrought iron gate, a strange sensation washed over them. It was subtle but persistent, an almost imperceptible urge to turn around, to leave the mansion behind.

“What is this feeling?” Lump muttered, his brow furrowing as he instinctively hesitated.

“A spell,” Shadow explained, his voice steady but low. “It’s designed to deter unwanted visitors, to make them doubt their purpose here.”

Halsin’s expression grew grim as he nodded. “A ward of this nature is meant to plant unease in the mind. It preys on hesitation, making the strong feel weak and the determined falter. A clever defense, though one we must overcome.”

Lump shook his head, trying to clear the nagging doubt. “Well, it’s not working on me. Let’s get this over with.” His bravado rang hollow, but he pushed forward nonetheless.

Shadow’s ruby eyes scanned the gate, his gaze sharp and calculating. He extended a hand, shadowy tendrils creeping from his fingers to trace along the edges of the gate. The air shimmered faintly as the spell resisted his intrusion. With a low growl, Shadow clenched his fist, and the tendrils coiled tighter, forcing the ward to falter.

The oppressive sensation lifted, and the air around them seemed to clear. Shadow turned back to his companions, his expression unreadable. “The path is open. Stay close.”

The three of them stepped onto the overgrown path leading to the mansion, their senses heightened as they moved deeper into the unknown. The once-distant unease now hung heavy around them, a reminder that the true danger lay just ahead.

The group approached the decrepit mansion cautiously, their steps echoing faintly on the stone path. Shadow raised his hand abruptly, halting them mid-step. "Something is watching us," he murmured, his ruby eyes scanning the dark foliage surrounding them. He waved his hand, sending an invisible pulse through the air.

A yelp erupted from a nearby bush, followed by a string of obscenities. Without hesitation, the party moved toward the source of the noise.

"A redcap," Lump muttered, his voice tinged with disgust as he spotted the grotesque creature, its sharp-toothed grin faltering under their combined gaze.

"Lump, eat it," Shadow commanded, his tone cold and unyielding.

Lump grinned maliciously, grabbing the redcap by its scraggly head. With a swift motion, he snapped its neck, silencing its shrill protests. Removing the creature’s iron boots, he then swallowed the twisted being whole, his satisfaction evident in the deep burp that followed.

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Shadow’s voice broke the grim silence. "Let’s move ahead." He led the group around the main house. "The mansion is riddled with traps and wards. We’ll use the smaller building behind it to access the lower levels. Stay alert."

Reaching the smaller structure which appeared to be a house , probably where the servants once lived .

Shadow placed a hand on the door, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he muttered a faint incantation under his breath. The door groaned in protest before slowly creaking open, revealing a dimly lit interior cloaked in shadows. The air inside was stifling and oppressive, wrapping around them like an invisible shroud of dread. The faint scent of mildew and decay mixed with an underlying metallic tang, making it almost difficult to breathe. The walls were lined with cracked plaster, and in places, the wooden beams peeked through like skeletal remains.

Dust motes floated in the weak light filtering through the warped shutters, adding to the eerie stillness of the room. A broken chair lay toppled near a splintered table, as if some violent struggle had taken place long ago.

Lump wrinkled his nose, muttering, "This place reeks of death," his voice carrying an edge of unease.

Shadow cast a brief glance at him, his tone measured yet cold. "That would be the hags’ influence. This was once a servants' quarters, a place of toil and routine. Now, it’s a vessel for their dark magic. Stay close. The lower levels are worse."

As they moved through the dimly lit corridors, Halsin’s keen eyes searched for any possible threats lurking in the dark.

"What happened to this place?" Halsin asked, his voice calm but tinged with sorrow.

Shadow paused, his gaze lingering on a defaced painting. The faces of the subjects had been violently scratched out. "The Hlaths were social climbers who built their fortune on real estate in both the Upper and Lower City. They owned establishments like the Elfsong Tavern, the Singing Lute, and even held silent partnership in the Blushing Mermaid. But their wealth was precarious, built on ambition and ruthless business tactics."

He gestured for them to follow him as he descended a spiral staircase. Each step took them deeper into the building’s shadowy underbelly. The air grew colder, carrying a faint metallic tang that stung their nostrils.

“By 1492 DR, Lord Orthagon Hlath led the family. However, the real power lay with his daughter, Matron Merrigold Hlath. She was cunning and expanded their holdings aggressively. But their downfall came when Gortash and the Cult of the Absolute targeted them. Holiday Hlath, Orthagon’s favorite grand-niece and heir, was their weak link.”

“What made her vulnerable?” Halsin asked, his voice echoing slightly in the narrow stairwell.

Shadow’s tone grew sharper. “Holiday was an insatiable gambler, racking up debts across the city’s gambling dens. Gortash exploited her, pulling her into the cult’s grip. By the time the Hlaths realized what was happening, it was too late. This mansion became a breeding ground for corruption. The family fell—some destroyed, others twisted into tools for the Absolute.”

At the base of the stairs, the air shifted again. Damp and cold, it carried the faint stench of rot. Roots lined the walls, their faint pulses resembling veins under skin. The torchlight flickered unnaturally, the shadows bending and stretching like living entities.

“This is unnatural,” Halsin said, placing a hand on the pulsating roots. They recoiled at his touch, writhing like wounded snakes.

“The hags’ magic,” Shadow confirmed. “They’ve warped this place to serve their needs. Be prepared—they already know we’re here.”

A faint whispering began to echo through the corridor, growing louder with each step. The dissonant voices overlapped, forming an eerie chant:

“One for sorrow, two for despair, Three for the souls who tread unaware.”

The group exchanged wary glances as the chant dissolved into cruel laughter.

“They’re mocking us,” Lump growled.

“Let them,” Shadow replied coldly. “It won’t save them.”

The corridor opened into a cavernous chamber. The walls glistened with moisture, adorned with bioluminescent fungi that cast an unsettling glow. The floor was littered with remnants of the Hlath family’s possessions: a child’s doll missing an eye, a shattered harp, and tarnished silverware scattered like discarded memories.

In the center of the room stood a cauldron, its contents bubbling with a sickly green light. Around it, three hags loomed, their forms grotesque and hunched. Their glowing eyes gleamed with malice, their twisted grins revealing yellowed, jagged teeth.

“Well, well,” one of them crooned, her voice a grating hiss. “What have we here? Trespassers?”

Shadow stepped forward, his presence commanding even in the face of such horror.

With a wave of his hand, a shadow bolt flew across the chamber, heading for one of the hags, but instead of hitting, it passed right through.

"An illusion," Lump murmured, as his eyes scanned the room suspiciously.

Halsin nodded grimly. "It couldn't have been that easy," he said, drawing from his experience in dealing with hags. His keen eyes darted to the corners of the room, searching for signs of the real threat.

Suddenly, the room seemed to warp, and the oppressive air thickened. Out of nowhere, the walls shuddered, and grotesque demons began to materialize from the shadows. Their bodies were twisted and monstrous, with clawed hands, gnashing teeth, and glowing red eyes. They snarled and shrieked as they surrounded the group.

"Here we go," Lump growled, stepping forward to intercept the nearest demon. With a savage grin, he clenched his massive fists and swung them in a powerful arc, crushing the creature's chest with a sickening crack. His knuckles dripped with the remnants of the mist-like form as the demon fell to the floor, only to evaporate into a swirl of black mist, leaving no trace behind.

"What the ?" Lump said , already turning to face another attacker.

Shadow’s ruby eyes narrowed, their gleam intensifying as the tendrils of shadow he wielded lashed through the demons. Each one fell with a bloodcurdling wail, only to dissolve into a haze of smoke and mist. Despite their efforts, the room remained teeming with the grotesque creatures, their distorted forms seemingly multiplying with every strike.

Halsin gritted his teeth, his staff whirling in fluid, purposeful motions as he dispatched another demon. He struck down another foe, his druidic magic crackling along his weapon, but his sharp gaze caught an unsettling detail as the demon evaporated—it didn’t bleed.

"This isn’t right," Halsin muttered, his voice strained and edged with frustration as he scanned the room. His mind raced to make sense of what was happening. The chaos of the battle pressed in around him, but his focus remained unbroken. No matter how many demons they cut down, the horde never diminished.

Across the room, Shadow moved with calculated precision, his every step deliberate, his tendrils carving through the illusions like blades of living night. His piercing gaze swept the room, landing on something at the far edge—a faint, pulsating green glow emanating from a cluster of strange mushrooms.

"The mushrooms," Shadow said, his voice a low growl that sliced through the noise. "They’re the source of the illusion."

Halsin’s eyes followed Shadow’s line of sight, narrowing as he studied the glowing fungi. His connection to nature stirred within him, sensing the dark, corrupted magic radiating from them. "Then we destroy them," Halsin said, his voice firm, his grip tightening on his staff as his determination hardened.

"Go. I’ll keep them off you," Shadow replied, stepping forward. The shadows around him surged, tendrils coiling and snapping like living whips as they struck down the relentless illusions.

Halsin nodded, his expression resolute. "Lump, with me!" he shouted. Lump, who had been pummeling demons with his massive fists, paused long enough to acknowledge the call, then barreled through the melee to Halsin’s side.

"You break, I smash," Lump grunted, his knuckles cracking ominously.

The pair sprinted toward the mushrooms, Halsin’s staff glowing faintly as he summoned his druidic magic to shield them. The demons turned their focus to the pair, their grotesque forms lunging and snarling, but Shadow’s tendrils lashed out with precision, clearing a path.

Halsin reached the cluster of mushrooms first, the corrupted energy radiating from them almost palpable. Their pulsating glow seemed to thrum in time with the chaos of the illusions, feeding the room’s oppressive atmosphere. He raised his staff, the air around him shimmering with natural magic.

"Cover me, Lump!" Halsin called, his voice a mix of urgency and command.

Lump grinned, his massive fists swinging like wrecking balls as he obliterated any illusion that dared approach. "You got it, leafy!"

Halsin closed his eyes briefly, centering himself. When he opened them, his staff flared with a brilliant green light. He brought it down onto the heart of the mushroom cluster with all his might. A shockwave of radiant energy erupted from the point of impact, shattering the fungi and sending tendrils of corrupted magic dissipating into the air.

The room trembled as the illusions faltered. The demons screeched, their forms flickering and fading one by one. Lump looked around, his fists still at the ready, but the once-crowded chamber was now eerily empty.

Shadow approached, his eyes scanning the room for any lingering threats. "It’s done," he said, his voice calm but laced with caution.

After navigating past the source of the illusions, Shadow led the group deeper into the lair. The oppressive atmosphere thickened, the air damp and heavy with an earthy stench. Their footsteps echoed faintly against the jagged stone walls, amplifying the eerie silence that surrounded them. The faint, flickering glow of bioluminescent fungi barely illuminated their path, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to writhe and dance on the walls.

The passage opened into a labyrinth, its entrance marked by twisted, blackened roots that curled unnaturally from the ceiling and floor, forming an ominous archway. Shadow raised a hand to signal the group to halt. "This is no ordinary maze," he murmured, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit corridors that stretched before them. "Traps and illusions are everywhere. Stay close and step exactly where I step."

Lump rolled his shoulders, his fists clenched. "Just point me at whatever needs smashing."

Shadow shook his head. "Brute force won’t get us through this. You smash the wrong thing here, and we’ll all regret it."

Halsin nodded solemnly, gripping his staff tightly. "The hags have woven their malice into this place. We’ll need to be precise."

As they stepped into the labyrinth, the walls seemed to shift subtly, the passageways almost breathing. The group advanced cautiously, with Shadow leading the way. His movements were deliberate, his gaze sharp as he studied every stone, every shadow for signs of traps or hidden enchantments.

"Hold," he commanded, raising a hand. He pointed to an innocuous-looking patch of moss on the floor. "Pressure plate beneath it. Step around."

The others obeyed, carefully skirting the trap. Lump’s foot hovered precariously over the edge of the plate before he managed to avoid it, earning a withering look from Shadow.

As they moved deeper, the illusions began to manifest. At first, they were subtle—whispers that seemed to echo from behind, flickers of movement in the corner of their vision. But soon, they grew more aggressive. Shadow paused as the air ahead shimmered, revealing a fork in the path that hadn’t been there moments ago.

"A false choice," he muttered. He send a shadow bolt toward the left passage. It disappeared into the shimmering air, revealing the path to be nothing more than a stone wall. "Stick to the middle," he instructed, moving forward.

The traps grew more devious as they progressed. A section of the floor suddenly crumbled beneath Halsin, revealing a spiked pit. He caught himself with a quick invocation of druidic magic, vines sprouting from his staff to anchor him before he could fall.

Shadow glanced back, his expression grim. "Focus and patience. The hags want us to rush."

Further in, a spectral figured appeared, blocking their path. Halsin froze .

"Jolana... " Halsin murmured, his voice trembling as his expression twisted with anguish. "How is this possible...?" His gaze lingered on the spectral figure before him, his eyes wide with disbelief and torment. His breath hitched as memories surged unbidden, threatening to overwhelm him. "How..." he whispered again, the word barely audible, as if saying it aloud made the vision more real.

"You killed me " the apparition hissed.

Lump gaze moved to Halsin as he heard the apparition words .

"It’s not real," Shadow said sharply, snapping Lump out of his trance. "They’re digging into your memories to weaken you."