Chapter Text
-To the person who finds this journal, this is a record of the events that changed my life in the most unimaginable ways.
20, Eleasis
A little background would be a good place to start. My name is Yelric, a wood elf from Baldur’s Gate. I’m fairly young as far as elves go, only 20 years old. Abandoned on the steps of what passes for an orphanage in the lower city as a toddler; Bindle House was more of a workhouse than any kind of home. Being right near the dock meant being able to knot fishing nets by the time I was six years old. The city was not kind to waifs, especially those that looked unique. My complexion is an unusual sage green, and I have a wavy mane of flame-colored hair. Shooting up to an impressive height at a young age led to much teasing that I wasn’t an elf but an orc.
There were a few of us from the orphanage that got along well. Together, we would skulk about the lower city, swiping food and other odds and ends to make life more bearable. Unfortunately, the older I got, the more I stood out and became a liability to my gang of street rats that got us caught on more than one occasion. The Flaming Fist was unforgiving, even if you were a child. Not wanting to jeopardize my friends, I started going off on my own. Some peace was found while ranging around the outskirts of Wyrm Crossing and Rivington. I spent my nights looking up at the stars and a feeling of connection to the land around me grew. For days at a time, I wandered alone in the wilds before inevitably venturing back into the city. Balur’s Gate is a cesspool, but it was home.
I have always been fond of animals and made friends with the little creatures of the city, even with the feral alley cats that would hiss and bite at anyone else. I would always talk to them. It was quite a surprise when they started talking back. I guess you could call me a druid, though an untrained one. The natural magic of the moon and nature just came to me. I remember the first time I wildshaped. Early one morning, my friends talked me into sneaking into the Elfsong Tavern with them to steal pastries. Critically failing in my effort to sneak past the cook and knocking over a tray full of glassware caused such a clatter! The cook began yelling and throwing utensils my way. As I looked around for an escape three Flaming Fist guards, who were there eating eating breakfast, came rushing in at the uproar. The Elfsong was right next to one of their guard houses, so it shouldn't have been a surprise. As things were escalating quickly, I ran in the opposite direction from my friends were still hidden, not wanting them discovered too. There was a small gap between the wall and a set of shelves, hoping to get around my pursuers and make for the kitchen door I tried to squirm between them. I got stuck, being too big to fit all the way through. All I could think was that if only I were small like a cat I’d be fine. A strange sensation ran through me like my whole being was turning to liquid. My body seemed to collapse in on itself; getting smaller, growing fur and was suddenly standing on all fours as I shifted into a fluffy, long-haired cat. Not knowing and not caring at the moment what had happened, I ran. From my new vantage, I saw a hole in the wall my cat-self should just be able to through. It led into one of the inn’s cellars. I was able to hop up a few crates and push past a little window out into the alley. I'm not sure how long I wandered the streets, taking in everything from a new perspective, marveling at this new ability, and wondering how to reverse it. Eventually, the magic seemed to fade and I shifted back into myself. Well, mostly returned to myself; my green eyes never went back to normal. The whites of my eyes had turned black, and the green had shifted to a feline gold. My friends were very worried when I found them again later. From their perspective, I had just vanished behind the shelves. No one had been able to see me when I changed, and with the guards and cook baffled at my disappearance they had taken the opportunity to escape themselves. They were all quite ecstatic over my new ability, and I have fond memories of turning into a cat and helping out my sticky-fingered friends with their hijinks.
Around 17, I found a job at a high-end book dealer. The owner, Master Barsk, let me stay in the attic space above the shop and their home as part of my payment. Having a space of my own was nice, and he had an impressive personal library I could use. My reading skill was rudimentary at best. His wife, Ro, noticed me struggling one day and kindly offered to help. It wasn’t easy, but she seemed to care and spent a lot of time tutoring me. The world opened up for me as I read in every spare moment. He had books on everything, though I doubt he read many of them himself. Much of his collection seemed more for decoration and prestige than for actual enjoyment. There were many books on druids and nature. Reading about plants and animals from all over Faerûn, about Silvanus and druidic rites helped me understand more about the magic growing inside. As a gift to myself on my 19th birthday, I spent most of my savings on a tattoo. One of the books had illustrations of druidic markings. An artistic sailor I knew from The Blushing Mermaid was able to replicate the Circle of the Moon markings on my face. Occasionally, I indulged myself with epic tales of the great heroes of the Sword Coast, like Balduran and Drizzt Do'Urden. He even had a few tomes on the lich Szass Tam and the Bhaalspawn Sarevok, who plagued Baldur's Gate a century ago.
Life was nice for a while, but a few months ago things started to feel uncomfortable with Ro. She started lingering around my workspace in the shop for no reason in particular and standing uncomfortably close. She constantly asked for my help, from carrying her shopping to fetching things from high shelves. While all this exceeded what my job entailed, I did it anyway as thanks for the reading lessons. Then she started showing up in my little loft space, dressed in her night clothes, bringing treats she had made. I tried to gently dissuade her antics at first but with little success. I started finding other places to take my reverie at night and trying to avoid her. A few days ago, while working particularly late on an order of books for a rich client, things went too far. Master Barsk was out for the night on business, and Ro took the opportunity to proposition me right in the middle of the workroom. I turned her down and tried to be as clear as possible this time that even if she was not my boss's wife, I would not be interested. I just didn't like women that way. She didn't take it well, and I ended up wildshaping into a cat and running out, not returning until Master Barsk came home. I hoped that time would have calmed Ro down and things could return to how they were before. Perhaps she worried I would betray her actions to her husband, or maybe it was just out of spite for the rejection that made her create a story about how I had tried to force myself on her. I returned to find two guards waiting for me, Master Barsk had used his connections with one of the Flame Wardens to have me thrown in prison with no chance to even defend myself. Not that my word would have held any weight against his or his wife’s. As the guards escorted me down the street, I was trying to find out how to escape the situation when there was a crack like thunder and a squidlike monstrosity appeared in the sky above us. The city became a riot of screaming people and ringing alarm bells. I broke free of the guards and started running along with everyone else. My heart raced as huge tentacles started winding their way through the streets, lashing at people and crushing buildings. I heard the crunch of stone and changed direction as a collapsing watch tower fell in my path. Trying to dodge out of the way of falling rubble, I missed what was ahead of me and I ran face-first into one of those horrifying tentacles. Everything went dark.
I remember brief snippets of consciousness. There were loud roars and sounds of battle. There was a dark room with fleshy walls. I was trapped, unable to move, and being held in some type of pod. A creature—what I now know was an illithid—hovering about the room. It was taking things from a vat in the center of the room and inserting it into the eyes of other creatures trapped in similar pods. When it came to me, I tried to shut my eyes, but it wouldn’t let me. It held a wriggling little tadpole-like creature up to my face. The teeth—good gods, row upon row of tiny needle-sharp teeth—were the last thing I saw as it burrowed into my skull before blessed darkness came to me.
