JENNY AND HARRY'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE (REVISED)

CHAPTER 2:

IT'S PARTY TIME

Shadowheart (it was hard to think of herself as Jenevelle Hallowleaf anymore, partly after over three decades of being called Shadowheart, and partly due to the guilt of what she had done, to her own parents) was barely holding it together. Being the last survivor of her mission, being captured by bloody Illithids and subjected to one of their tadpoles, being forced to team up with a Drow and a Githyanki to escape a Nautiloid that was flying through Avernus for a period of time…even before she regained her memories, she wasn't in the best of ways, even if she was putting a brave face on it. At least Tav was decent for a Drow, or indeed any being.

But now, she was in full command of her memories, or at least had most of them. And she wasn't in a good way. Knowing you were kidnapped from your parents rather than being an orphan, and brainwashed into torturing them over a period of more than three decades (amongst other dark deeds), tended to put a pall on things. And that was without everything else that she underwent as an acolyte of Shar.

But she had to keep herself together. She and Tav both had fucking Mindflayer tadpoles in their heads, and Shadowheart, for one, did not want to start sprouting tentacles and eating brains fresh from the skull. And she couldn't save her parents without ridding herself of the tadpole first.

The doors to the ruined building, probably a temple, were locked. Eventually, Harry decided that, just in case there was something nasty inside, he had an alternative. So he pulled what looked like a miniaturised travelling chest from his coat, and then made it expand to normal size. He then opened it up, activated…something, and then led them inside.

Now, Shadowheart had heard of Bags of Holding and Foldable Chests, but to have something that was the size of a small house inside it…he joked about it being called the TARDIS, though she did not get the joke. It was still amazing and wondrous. But they were swiftly led into what turned out to be a well-appointed library.

As he bustled about making tea, however, Shadowheart noted her friend's demeanour. There was something damaged about it, beneath the mask he had put up. Like events had harmed him. She only knew a little of what he had gone through, as while she had only seen him a few times since he went to Hogwarts, it hadn't been enough to grasp the full picture, and the current situation took priority.

Once the three of them had tea, Shadowheart gathered herself, preparing to reveal something that might have the Drow pushing her away. True, Harry shouldn't, he seemed to be partly aware of her situation, if her newly-regained memories were anything to go by. But Tav? She didn't intend to tell her the whole story, just enough. After all, Shar didn't have the best reputations in Toril.

Eventually, she said, "I need to reveal something, something that's very important. I know Harry would help me, but…"

"Is it about you being a Sharran cleric?"

Shadowheart and Harry stared at the Drow, sipping calmly from her mug after having that little bombshell dropped. As they gaped, Tav shrugged. "Look, I'm not an expert on all religions out there, good, evil, or inbetween. But I heard stories from my parents and from the bards about Shar, as well as Viconia DeVir. The one who helped stop Sarevok, the Bhaalspawn? My mum even told me to stay well away if she ever came calling, told me how to identify Sharran regalia just in case. I got the feeling they met, and it didn't end well. And your Sharran regalia isn't exactly hidden. It took me a while to recognise it though, it was while you and Lae'zel were arguing just before we headed into battle in the Nautiloid's helm. But considering you were more pleasant towards me than Lae'zel, and actually tried to help me without calling me all kinds of names in another language, I thought I'd give you the benefit of the doubt."

After a moment, Shadowheart nodded. "Fair enough. I am…not a Sharran cleric by choice, you should know. I don't want to go into the details, only that I was kidnapped by Viconia DeVir herself, and brainwashed into a good little Sharran. My parents were devout followers of Selûne, so maybe Shar wanted to simply spite her sister."

For some reason, she felt an odd feeling of approval that wasn't her own. As if someone inside her or linked to her was nodding and saying, Yes, that sounds just about right. But she ignored it for now.

Tav nodded. "Okay, so, you were a brainwashed Selûnite turned Sharran. If you're telling the truth, that explains a lot. So, is there anything else?"

"There is. If I hadn't regained my memories, I wouldn't even be saying this, but we're stuck together, and I'm wondering if our survival has anything to do with this." She pulled out the Artifact, the icosahedral relic she had retrieved.

"What is that thing?" Harry asked.

"I've no idea, only that it's Githyanki in origin, and it's valuable not only to them, but to other powers." She sighed softly to herself. "Tav, you're a native to Baldur's Gate, aren't you? Have you ever heard of some new cult on the rise?"

Tav frowned. "Vaguely. I thought it was something like the Cult of Bhaal or maybe the Red Wizards of Thay stirring up trouble again. I mean, you heard about that mess that happened in Neverwinter recently, right(1)?"

"Of course. Or the recent disaster in Elturel," Shadowheart said(2). "But this is different, a rather insidious cult that has gained a lot of members quickly. I did not know all the details, being an acolyte, but Viconia DeVir sent us to obtain a Githyanki artifact, one that, if rumour from my comrades was to be believed, was something this cult feared. I…" Her voice caught in her throat. Sharran or not, her dead comrades had been on good terms with her. "I was the only survivor," she said. "But the Illithids caught me on the way back to Baldur's Gate, and, well, that's where you found me."

"That's why Lae'zel took an interest in that thing," Tav mused. "A Githyanki artifact…"

"I doubt she knew exactly what it was, any more than I did," Shadowheart said, pocketing it. "Otherwise, she would have interrogated me on the spot, crashing Nautiloid be damned. A shame she wasn't a Githzerai. It'd be easier to work with a Gith who wasn't an arrogant xenophobe."

"Hey, plenty of those in the world, Jenny," Harry said, his pet nickname for her sending a pang through her heart. "Though which world are we on?"

"In all likelihood, our homeworld of Toril, assuming we haven't ended up on another world or plane entirely. I suspect we're somewhere not that far from Elturel or Baldur's Gate, though I can't swear to that," Shadowheart said.

"Yeah, I reckon the same thing," Tav said. "Why did you ask that, Harry?"

"I'm from another world, one called Earth," Harry said. "It's a long story. Jenny knows a little about it. For some reason, we've been seeing each other in our dreams from an early age, that's how I knew her name."

"Another world? And you've met her in your dreams? I wouldn't believe you, but in the past few hours, I got kidnapped by a Mindflayer Nautiloid, got eye-raped by one of their tadpoles, witnessed Avernus for the first time, and hopefully the last, and teamed up with a Githyanki and a Sharran cleric to save my hide. So my capacity for disbelief is a bit low right now. Who knows? Maybe we'll end up meeting Drizzt Do'urden or Jaheira or Minsc and Boo!"

Shadowheart scoffed. "That seems unlikely. And besides, we need to find someone, somewhere, who can cure us. Curing an Illithid infection is far from easy. I'm an experienced cleric, and I know a number of healing spells, but that's not my specialty, and it'd take a cleric far more powerful than I am to save us."

"Yeah, but…correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't we have suffered more symptoms by now? I don't know the details, but I'm guessing we've been infected for about a day. I mean, it was night when we crashed, I remember that much, and I was snatched off the streets of Baldur's Gate during the day, but now it's morning, I think."

Shadowheart frowned as she considered this. "…You're right," she said in sudden realisation. "I don't know all of the symptoms in detail, but Ceremorphosis, the process by which an Illithid tadpole converts its host into an Illithid, takes place over about a week. Hallucinations and fever should already have set in by now." She looked at her arms, rolling up the sleeves as best as she could. "No greying patches on my skin that I can see either. And I don't have memory loss. Quite the opposite, really. Headaches and nausea, yes, but that could be chalked down to what we just went through, to say nothing of regaining my memories. That being said, we can't count on this state of affairs continuing. It may be a variant of tadpole that takes longer."

Tav nodded. "Lae'zel and I stumbled across a pod with a woman in it. I…tried to free her, but I accidentally triggered what seemed to be instant Ceremorphosis."

Shadowheart stared at her in horror. "Thank the gods you didn't trigger the same thing with me. I think what we should do is check the ruins for any supplies, then look for any other survivors from the crash, assuming they're not hostile. We can also look for a settlement, someone who may have a healer. It's a long shot, but it's the only one we have."

"Sounds like a plan," Tav said. "You've no objection, Harry?"

"Not really. I'm stranded here, and if helping you two find a cure helps me survive…besides, Jenny is technically my oldest friend, even if we both thought each other imaginary friends. I don't want her to be turned into a Mindflayer. And I'm new to this shit for the most part. Jenny, at least, is a familiar face."

Shadowheart nodded. "But for now, Harry, call me Shadowheart. The same goes for you, Tav. I've…gone too long as that name, and besides, I don't think I deserve being called Jenevelle Hallowleaf."

Harry gently touched her shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. Those monsters in that Sharran temple brainwashed you into doing all that. But if you want me to call you Shadowheart, that's fine. It's a bit edgy, but it's actually quite nice. All hearts have a shadow to them."

Shadowheart didn't know why, but she felt a flush come to her cheeks, both at his sympathy and his praise of the name forced upon her, the one she would assume until she felt worthy of being called Jenevelle again. Tav had an annoyingly knowing smile on her lips, but remained silent. Shadowheart stood abruptly. "Thank you for the tea, Harry, but we'd best get going. Once we're somewhere safe, then we can exchange our respective long stories, if that's agreeable to you."

Harry nodded, a wan smile of understanding and agreement on his lips. "Yeah. It's still a bit raw for me too…"

Just after Harry put the once-more shrunken Expanded Trunk into his jacket pocket, soon after the three of them left it, the doors to the ruins began to creak open. As it did so, they heard a rather lilting, camp-sounding voice purr, "…And then, his toes fell off."

"…Fascinating," a strange, warped and flanging voice said, with a tone drier than the Sahara, Harry noted. Clearly, the speaker thought it wasn't fascinating.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, it loses something in translation," the first speaker said, one of four forms that emerged from the ruins. Said speaker noticed the three of them. "Oh, hello there. You two look vaguely familiar."

As Harry made to raise his wand upon seeing two of the forms in particular, Shadowheart stopped him. "Don't attack unless we're attacked, even if one of them is clearly an undead," she said quietly.

Harry hoped she was right, but none of the four newcomers seemed aggressive. Though at least two were intimidating, monstrous even. And something about three of the quartet set his instincts jangling.

The most normal seemed to be a man, with brown hair and a beard, a handsome if slightly cocky expression. He was dressed in purple robes, and there was an air that reminded Harry painfully of Hermione. Combined a little with Gilderoy Lockhart to boot, annoyingly enough.

The second most normal-looking appeared to be a man of indeterminate but relatively young age with pointed ears, white hair, pale skin, and dressed in fine, dandyish clothes. He also had crimson eyes, and was the source of the rather camp voice from earlier. A smirk twitched at the man's lips that made Harry want to throw a brick into it.

And then, there was the lizard man, or rather, the dragon man (assuming he was a male). His scales were pale and silvery, his own eyes crimson. He was also rather burly and muscled. A massive and seemingly recent and inflamed scar marred his forehead just above his eye.

Last, but most certainly not least, was a robed figure that looked mummified, dry skin drawn taught against its bones. Yet it looked most certainly alive, and was peering at them curiously with dark, soulful eyes. It reminded him of Voldemort, at least in that snake-faced body he assumed at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and yet, if he didn't know any better, there was no malice coming from it.

Suddenly, Shadowheart and Tav convulsed, clutching their heads in pain, as did the white-haired Elf, the bearded human, and the dragon man. "Hey, what did you do to them?!" Harry demanded of the mummified figure, pointing his wand at it.

"Stay thy hand, scion of Ignotus Peverell. 'Tis the burden they carry, melding their minds but briefly," the mummy said, its voice calm and surprisingly gentle, yet having a strange weight of authority behind it. "They will recover."

Yet Harry stared at it in shock. "…What the hell did you call me? How do you know that name?"

"I know many things, wizard from another world, but for now, I hath a question for thee. What value doth a single mortal life hold? Indulge my curiosity."

After a moment, he said, "Depends on the person. Bad people, evil people who have no chance at redemption or desire for it, their life isn't worth anything. But aside from that…I value life highly. If I have to kill in defence of myself or others, I will, but not for the sake of killing."

The mummy peered at him curiously, even as the others stopped clutching at their heads. "Very well. I am satisfied."

"Don't mind Withers over there," the brown-haired man muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Those ruins led to an old Temple of Jergal, and we found Withers entombed there. At first, he seemed set to stay there after asking that question, but he then perked up, and followed us out. Anyway, it seems that, aside from Withers and our young friend there, we've been fellow prisoners on yonder Nautiloid, and subjected to a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region?"

Shadowheart sighed. "Eloquently, if indelicately, put. And before you ask, I'm not skilled enough as a cleric to heal them. It's beyond most cleric's skills."

"I feared as such. You? Don't suppose you're a doctor or a surgeon? Hells, I'll take even someone uncannily adroit with a knitting needle." He nodded to Tav.

"No, sorry. I'm more of a Ranger, and the urban kind. I did have to kill a footpad with a knitting needle once, though. Long story involving idiots heading up a protection racket in Baldur's Gate, and I'm not sure we have time for it, what with the impending squidification. I'm Tav, this is Shadowheart, and Harry Potter. And you?"

"Ah, where are my manners?" The man bowed. "I am Gale of Waterdeep."

"And I am Astarion. Charmed, I'm sure," the Elf said, also bowing.

"Call me Dirge," the dragonman said, his voice a tenebrous rumble, folding his arms. "Astarion tried to slit my throat until our tadpoles connected, and he learned I was not his enemy, unless he made me one. We rescued Gale from a malfunctioning warp rune like that one." He nodded to a purple set of runes on a nearby rock wall. "We then decided to check these ruins for supplies. We found bandits, traps, and undead instead. Withers at least did not attack, even if he is irritatingly coy and portentous."

Harry thought he saw a smile briefly twitch at the lips of the undead mummy. "Oh, believe me, I've met plenty of people like that," Harry said, shooting the mummy a brief glare.

"Don't suppose you saw a Githyanki woman before? Auburn hair, bad attitude, name of Lae'zel?" Tav asked.

"Unfortunately, or fortunately, not at all," Gale said. "I'd say you travel with dangerous company even without her, being a Seldarine Drow yourself, I presume, especially with a Sharran cleric, but…well, Dirge and Astarion are pretty quick with their blades, and I'm deft with spells, so I can't talk."

"Ex-Sharran cleric. Let's just say I learned the truth about some things," Shadowheart said pointedly.

"My apologies, then, if that is the case. Then again, even if you still were, I think the situation is too dangerous to be picky about one's companions. On that note, shall we look for a healer together?" Gale asked. "A parasite shared is a parasite halved…or something to that effect."

Harry snorted. "That metaphor ran away on you, didn't it?"

"Don't mind Gale, occasionally, he suffers from delusions of eloquence," Astarion purred. "But I do agree. It wouldn't hurt to have others watching our backs."

Dirge nodded. Tav, Shadowheart, and Harry exchanged looks, before Tav nodded in her own turn. "Sure. As you said, we can't be picky about our travelling companions. And just so you know, I was born and raised in Baldur's Gate."

"I gathered from your accent. It's most certainly not native to the Underdark," Gale said. "So, shall we?"

"Yes, let's…"

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Shadowheart's explained matters, and they've met most of the rest of the party. Hence my appropriating the marketing tagline for the game.

So, why is Shadowheart trusting Tav with the information? Gratitude for saving her arse, bluntly. Tav doesn't act like the usual Drow. Even Drizzt Do'urden, while earnest and noble, still is a bit broody and dramatic, which probably comes from growing up in Menzoberranzan, and as part of a 'noble' Drow house. Tav, on the other hand, grew up mostly in Baldur's Gate, and while subjected to discrimination, she's a somewhat cheerful if cynical soul, like a bit more of a good and energetic version of Araj Oblodra from the game. Shadowheart recognises a kindred spirit and a possible friend. She won't trust anyone else outside of these two with the information yet, though.

As for the mysterious presence in her head, well, that's why she has her memories. It's also why Shar hasn't been able to activate her shock collar, so to speak. Or, as a future chapter will show, Shadowheart is still capable of wielding cleric spells and the like.

Now, Tav (and Gale) recognising Shadowheart as a Sharran cleric was inspired by a crossover between The Witcher and Baldur's Gate. Namely, HistoricalHijinks' On Ashen Wings which, while in its earliest stages and with just a touch TMI with how much drinking blood arouses a now-vampiric Ciri, is an excellent story. It's pointed out in the author's notes for the fourth chapter that Shadowheart has some fairly obvious Sharran iconography on her outfit. Gale recognising her former allegiances was taken from that fic, even if his reaction was more subdued due to the situation (he's desperate, even if he's hiding it with his confident attitude, and will take all the help he can get). However, for Tav, she was taught to recognise them by her mother, who had a bad encounter with Viconia and her group, and so warned Tav how to recognise Sharrans just in case. Tav also has a connection to another Baldur's Gate 3 character, something that will help stifle conflict later.

As for Gale, Astarion, and Dirge teaming up, well, it's probably stupid for all the characters to simply sit around waiting for you to pick them up, in a story context. I was struggling to figure out how to justify Harry, Shadowheart, and Tav going in there to meet Withers either. Basically, Dirge clambered out of part of the wreckage away from Tav and Shadowheart a few hours beforehand. He encountered Astarion, and after some tadpole mindfuckery, decided to team up. They then found Gale, and rescued him. They decided to investigate the ruined temple of Jergal, scaring off the bandits outside, and killing the ones inside. After meeting Withers, after his usual spiel, he intended to tell them to bugger off, only to sense Harry's approach.

Yes, Withers/Jergal is 'Death' from the Tale of the Three Brothers, with the Peverells coming to Toril briefly as part of an experiment involving interdimensional travel. And unlike his encounter with the pre-apotheosis Dead Three, he saw them off on more pleasant terms. The Hallows were actually artifacts from Toril, creations of Jergal that he kept from the Dead Three.

Astarion's tasteless anecdote was inspired by that of Father Damien, the Belgian missionary who tended to lepers in Hawaii, only to contract leprosy himself. The 'toes falling off' bit was a nod to the version of the story I heard in Tom Baker's autobiography, Who on Earth is Tom Baker? In that version, Father Damien is having a footbath in scalding water, something he does not realise until his toes fall off, in that version of the story, anyway.

I should also point out that Astarion has adjusted his collar to hide Cazador's bite marks, and he's careful not to show his fangs as much while talking or smiling.

Finally, naming the Dark Urge 'Dirge'. This isn't a typo. I actually get sick and tired of people calling him 'Durge', but because the word 'dirge' (a funerary song or poem, fitting for a Bhaalspawn) sounds like it, well, it was too fitting to pass up.

1. A reference to the events of Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves. As much of a Guardians of the Galaxy ripoff it was, and some of the practical effects were a bit dodgy, it was a fun and enjoyable film. And yes, I know the film is meant to take place in the late 1490s DR, presumably after this game, but for this story, those events take place in 1491 DR.

2. A reference to the adventure Descent into Avernus, and the reason why Zevlor and his fellow Tieflings were exiled from Elturel.