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My first BGII dark/fanfic


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It was raining.


The heavens had opened up in a late autumn in the early afternoon with no sign of letting up, even now, as night approached. If anything it was raining even heavier, for the rain had long ago ceased to be gentle, and had become white streaks hitting the surface of Toril like bullets.

Along the road south of Beregost there was a group of trees seemingly huddled together for warmth, or watching menacingly the road, like a group of bandits.

If you were to look amongst those trees carefully enough, you might see a person sitting under one of the trees. And if you knew your heroes, you’d probably recognise the person.


The Bhaalspawn Kietach sat there under a cloak, cross-legged, arms folded on his legs, hunched over, his head hung low, listening to the sound of the rain falling through the leaves with a gentle pit sound and the occasional crack of an especially large droplet when it hit a leaf a great distance below it. It was misty amongst the trees with water vapour.


He pensively watched the blood run down his arm, with a small slash of light thrusting through part of his cloak as he silently sheathed the dagger again with his right hand, before returning it to it’s previous location. He sat like that for half an hour; listening to the rain and watching the blood dry from his latest wound.


‘How many times have I done this?’ He idly wondered.

He genuinely couldn’t remember. He knew he had hundreds of scars because of it now though, and that it had been just before Saradush he’d started. A few nights after…


…after *then*.


It was still hard to believe it had been nearly five years since.


Ever since he’d first met her, heard her voice, seen her, he’d been in love with her. After Sarevok had murdered Gorion she’d stood by him and kept his spirits up, when he’d been in mortal danger of falling and becoming…


Kietach gave a quiet snort under his breath.


She’d saved him from ending up like he was now.


What Irenicus had done to her was unforgivable, and he’d enjoyed immensely indulging in his tainted side by making him suffer in hell. His lips formed a thin smile as he remembered it.


The smell of burning flesh had been in the air, as he’d killed the first demon with a fireball, before he let his anger, frustration and sorrow consume him along with the taint again, and became The Slayer. As he felt the spikes appear along his spine and the scythe-like blades grow along the inside of his forearms he noted he was transforming far more often since he’d left the others in the forest. He’d literally ripped the remaining demons apart before he turned to face Irenicus. He’d thrown a lightning bolt at him, but he’d simply shrugged it off, picked up Irenicus in one huge clawed paw and hurled him into a nearby pillar. As Irenicus had turned over he had one of the Slayer’s feet land on his chest and looked up in horror into the slayer’s acid drooling jaws, and glowing red eyes.

Eyes full of hatred.

His screams of agony had felt *so good* when, as the slayer, he’d simply placed his huge clawed paws around his arms and closed them. The flesh and bone underneath had simply disintegrated under the strength of the avatar and as Irenicus screamed, Kietach roared in triumph before pulling his right arm back and slamming it forward like a piston, crushing Irenicus’ upper body and reducing the floor underneath his body to rubble.


His smile faded as small a voice inside his head quietly said ‘She would have been horrified at you.’

He grimaced and seemed to withdraw further into himself as he felt the darkness inside him taunt him for not making him suffer enough, for listening to his goodness.


It was still raining.


It was also darkening now, not that it mattered to him, him being a half-elf.


Without warning something landed heavily on his head and Kietach sprang up, scattering the layer of water that had formed on his cloak, Blackrazor instantly in his hand. He scanned the branches of the oak tree he’d just been sat under, looking for any movement, listening for any sound amongst the steady pattering of water on leaves.

He mentally relaxed slightly as he felt his scalp become damp, and he reached around with his left hand to feel for-yes, that was it. An especially large droplet of water had simply landed on him.

As he stood there in a battle-stance, he felt a liquid running down his left biceps. When he felt it reach his left hand he looked at it out of the corner of his eye and he saw it was blood. His wound must have re-opened. He quietly sheath Blackrazor and started walking east. He wanted to avoid the town. And Kelsey’s villa was east of it anyway. No need to draw too much attention.


What was it that book had said? ‘Don’t remember a memory with sadness or eventually the sadness would be all that’s left’? Something like that. He didn’t care. He wasn’t even too sure why he’d thought of it.


He’d reached his decision several weeks ago now. He’d try to… to…


He ceased his walking. To try to…what? Make her, convince her? The more he thought about it, the more desperate and futile it struck him his visit would be. He stood there in the rain, thinking of nothing but subconsciously fighting with himself over whether he should even bother. Eventually he resumed walking along his original path.


A few more hours wouldn’t matter.




Darkness had fallen.


In a villa east of Beregost a man and a woman were comforting each other. The pink-haired young woman was shaking violently, though in anger or otherwise was impossible to tell. The redheaded man simply sat next to his fiancée, holding her in his arms as she quietly sobbed into his chest.


“I-I can’t *believe* th-that, that *sicko* would try to convince me…â€Â

“Shhhh. It’s all right… I told him that if he ever came back, he’d leave in pieces†Kelsey responded as he gently rocked her.

“But he *will*!†Imoen practically wailed.

“No he won’t.â€Â

“H-how do you know Kelsey?â€Â


Kelsey tensed. What could he say? That when he threw her brother out and told him that if he ever harassed Imoen again he’d kill him? That in response to the threat he’d looked him in the eye and simply stated ‘You won’t see me again in this life. I hope you two have a happy life together’?

What had really unnerved him was the look in those eyes. It was the look his father had, had just before he’d died, the same looks some criminals had had when they were about to be executed. He’d also noticed the scars on his arms by the light coming from inside, both the old and fresh ones. He also knew that only one person could have made those. Kietach was simply too good a warrior.


So he did the only thing he could to.

He said, “I just knowâ€Â.




In the darkness, in the rain, in the gang of trees, a Bhaalspawn sat against a tree letting the self-loathing and sadness consume him. He’d been crying since He’d turned his back on Kelsey outside.


He’d known what the answer was going to be.


He also knew what he was going to do.

He slid the dagger out of its sheath and looked at the blade as it shined in the low light. He held his left wrist up, forced the dagger into the soft flesh, and dragged it along towards his elbow. As the blood spurted out of the wound and the rain washed some of the blood away he whispered “I think… I think I understand now…†And he did. He understood what Irenicus must have felt. To have lost everything you’d cared about. To have been so lonely. To be trapped by the past, to be trapped by shattered dreams.


As the black seemed to become blacker and the pattering of the rain became quieter, as thoughts became more confused…


…as Kietach died, the last thought that went through his mind was:


‘I never *did* like me.’

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