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A Baldur's Gate Halloween

So this thread is shameless self promotion of my fic that will be posted in the Fan Creations section. In my defense, it is heavily based on the quests and people you meet in BG and you do need to know your way around the city, so of course there are "spoilers".

Set in Baldur's Gate City, the party takes a break from investigating the Iron Throne and instead waste time dressing up and going Trick or Treating. It's not like there is a crisis looming or that Amn is massing troops on the border or the Dukes are in danger of being assasinated or that Dopplegangers have infiltrated or anything important like that going on. As if, people would laugh if you suggested it, far too busy carving Pumpkins.

Here is the link,

https://forums.beamdog.com/discussion/66569/a-baldurs-gate-halloween#latest

Chapter One

Traditions

Extract


"So how do you celebrate Halloween in your countries?" she asked innocently knowing that boasting of their superior cultures was something few of them could resist.

"In the Underdark," Viconia pronounced (in the tone she aways used), "We have a great feast followed by ritual sacrifices to Lolth followed by an orgy... the usual." She paused before continuing, "Though some of the Matron Mothers do make an effort. They make carvings in the torsos of the sacrificed and stick a candle in the ribcage...just for the children of course."

At the mention of "Orgy", Edwin and Korgan had shown a spark of interest. But it was quickly extinguished as they, and the rest of us, tried hard not to imagine the scene Viconia described.

"Mmmm, not sure if that's going to be doable in Baldurs Gate, the FF would object for a start off" Ayla turned to Branwen, she could depend on Branwen, "you must do something in the Norheim Isles?" she asked.

"Oh yes, we too have a great feast and listen to stories and drink...a lot" she answered but without her usual enthsiasm.

"That sounds more like it, ghost stories around the campfire" Ayla replied brightly.

"Actually epic poems, epic poems in blank verse recited by the old men of the village that last for five hours or more. And it's always the same ones. That's why we drink, if you're lucky you can pass out before they get to the bit where the hero (always a man of course) descends to the hells to rescue somebody." Branwen explained in a morose tone before taking a large swallow of her wine and shuddering at the memory.

At this point Korgan spoke,


Feedback welcome, oh, and put Korgan being in the party down to magic. He was just too tempting to include.

ThacoBelltbone1Balrog99
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