Shadowheart

The funhouse mirrors take you down a path that seems to grow darker as you walk. What is reflected in the mirrors is a hazy landscape, all in grays, with swirling thick darkness that looks like smoke all around. Everything in this land is dead, everything. The ground is cracked and patched. No plants grow here, except for the odd glowing foliage of the underdark, which is adapted to darkness. There are no living animals, but there are beings in the dark. Undead corpses of animals with glowing eyes animated by some evil power, dark shadow shapes, even the corpses of people from time to time, ones who wandered in here and fell.

Other mirrors show flickers of the story of this land. A century ago, this was a thriving and lush landscape ruled over from the nearby castle, Moonrise Towers. There was a market town and many people who lived in the rural areas. But a curse was placed on this land by the goddess Shar. Everyone who once lived here either died or fled, because no life can thrive in the shadows. The shadow curse eats away at anyone who travels through it before they join the armies of undead.

Shadowheart is traveling through this land with her companions, Gale, Karlach, and Astarion. They’re using lanterns to keep the shadows at bay, but in the darker places, even that doesn’t work. But Shadowheart seems less affected by the others.

“The shadow curse… it doesn’t seem to affect me like it does others. Not as badly, at least.” Shadowheart’s voice sounds pleased. “Do you know what this means? Lady Shar is protecting me, while others are left to face her wrath.” She’s touched by this, like this is an unexpected blessing, a protection she didn’t think she’d be granted, but is now taking as proof of something she hadn’t thought she’d ever see proof of. “...She loves me. She must do.”

She notices the others slightly unimpressed, and adds - “Don’t give me that look. It’s a good thing I’m resistant to the shadows. I can help all of you.” And then more to herself - “Lady Shar wouldn’t bless me like this for no reason. There must be something she wants of me.”

The journey leads you deeper into these cursed lands. Despite Shadowheart’s claim of receiving a blessing, this is an awful place, and even she seems to be feeling it. Eventually, they come to a road, and find a destroyed caravan, bodies strewn all over the place. Men, women, children, all horned and colorful people, tieflings, lying murdered in the road, attacked. Though a few were armed, and though one or two of the bandits who killed them lie dead as well, most were refugees, not warriors.

(Memories on the mirrors on the other side of the wall. A party, in a serene grove, at night. A celebration in honor of Shadowheart and her friends. Tieflings drinking, dancing, toasting to them for helping save them and find a safe path to Baldur’s Gate. Many of the dead were among those remembered from the party, though some notable faces are missing.)

The sight is horrible, but the next turn through the mirrors leads to something else. An inn, easily visible through the darkness, as it is shrouded in an enormous bubble of light, blinding and looking like the surface of the moon. Inside the spell of protection, life can thrive and the shadows are banished. And Shadowheart and her friends find most of the remaining survivors of the tiefling caravan there, having been given shelter by the inn’s owner, a cleric named Isobel.

The reunion with the survivors is mixed. It’s a happy thing, that they survived and found shelter, but there’s no way to travel ahead, many of their party were killed, and many more are missing. Some of the children beg them to go find one of their friends who is being held captive; others as after missing loved ones and family members, but there’s no way to guarantee they can be saved or are even still alive.

Shadowheart goes upstairs with the others and meets Isobel. The conversation is brief, and tense, but perhaps there’s more there, if you linger and peer more deeply into the mirrors.

Isobel is at work renewing the ritual that protects this inn. It’s a beautiful thing, like summoning moonlight in her hands and letting it spread out across the area. She turns, and takes the party in.

“I didn’t realize I had an audience.” Her gaze falls on Shadowheart. “And a Sharran one, at that. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re willing to help us. Your kind aren’t known for their decency, particularly when a Sharran curse is our greatest obstacle.” She sighs. “But if you are who I think you are, I’d be a fool to reject your help.”

“I won’t be spoken to like that by a Selǔnite,” Shadowheart snaps back at her.

In an adjacent mirror, the shadow of Moonrise Towers, the enemy occupying it. An obstacle that Shadowheart and her friends must face, and an enemy of Isobel and all of the people taking refuge in this inn. For reasons unknown to you, the man controlling Moonrise Towers wants Isobel brought to him a prisoner, but if Isobel leaves this place, or falls, every last person inside the inn will fall to the shadow curse and die. She needs Shadowheart’s help, but Shadowheart has come here seeking help from her, as well.

“We’ve both got a bitter pill to swallow,” Isobel says, conciliatory. “When this is over, we can spit it back out. But for now, you’ll be needing a protection spell, won’t you?” the woman adds. “I see Shar has offered you protection already, but no harm from some extra. Even from a Selǔnite.”

Shadowheart agrees, and Isobel casts her spell, but as the magic washes over her, she clasps her hand in pain. The feeling of a spell using Selûne’s magic triggers pain from the old wound on her hand, reminding her that making peace this way is not accepted.

“Imagine being compelled to hide a shrine in a land that is utterly hostile to you and your goddess,” Shadowheart says, after they leave Isobel’s chambers. “Utter pig-headedness.”

“Hmm,” Gale says. “Tenacity might be a kinder word for it?”

“I’ll leave the kinder words to the softer hearts,” Shadowheart says.

Even so, without questioning it, Shadowheart and her friends defend the inn when forces from Moonrise Towers attack, keep them from taking Isobel or hurting her, so that Selûne’s protection can remain in place for a little longer.

There are more pathways, leading ahead, all lit by the glow of that protective moonlit spell. A story of a war between two goddesses, one that tends to use the lives of mortals as chess pieces, but more, too, some sort of deeper conflict within Shadowheart, one she doesn’t seem to understand herself. You can explore deeper, but there’s also a way out, back out of the hall of mirrors.