Lay your head on that pillow and…

SPOILER WARNING FOR PEOPLE SENSITIVE TO SPOILERS.

I HAVE WARNED YOU.

Edders Sheeran the Bard looks at his bloodied hands in terror after a long rest in Baldur’s Gate 3.

RIGHT, ONTO SPOILER TERRITORY.

I met this really nice bard inBaldur’s Gate 3called Alfira the other day.

She was perched on a rock, swinging a sweet medley to a couple of squirrels.

Edders Sheeran looks down at Alfira, a bard he’s murdered without really knowing why or how in Baldur’s Gate 3.

Beingthebard Edders Sheeran, I wandered over and listened to her perform.

She kept getting stuck on some verses, so I helped her fill in the blanks.

She seemed content, belting out the ballad.

The squirrels, it turns out, thought her voice was awful.

Anyway, she took me by surprise much later on as I slew the last of some goblin leaders.

She snuck into danger just to say she wanted to join our adventures; see the world!

I, Edders Sheeran, was thankful to have such a ray of sunshine enter the camp.

“Of course, we’d love to have you,” I replied.

Going back to camp, it was really nice seeing Alfira again!

Normally the camp’s quiet and brooding, but she brought a nice energy to the place.

Everyone else seemed to welcome her presence, too.

Even Lae’zel, who hates everybody.

Now, at this point I’d forgottenthe Dark Urgewas a thing.

So, with Alfira safely in camp, I go round and have some chats with my pals.

Lae’zel is suitably angry but I can tell there’s a soft interior in there, somewhere.

Wyll seems fairly chill.

Gale clutches his chest and begs me to feed him a magical item to cure his blight.

Nah mate, no chance.

When I wake everything’s a bit fuzzy, and it’s clear I had a midnight encounter.

My face is covered in sweat, so I’m thinking the rough and tumble last night wasspicy.

And there’s Alfira… she doesn’t look… good?

Her guts are splayed open like I’ve punctured a bag of tomatoes with my fists.

A quick investigation reveals I’ve stabbed her with my hands repeatedly, like some absolute animal.

Rather than confess my sins, I dump her body outside camp, and quietly go back to bed.

Just when you forget it’s bubbling in the back of your mind, it bursts forth.

And crucially, it invades your most basic routines and actions.

I did get a point of inspiration, though, so that’s good.

Former contributor Emily Gera also works on it.