I killed an owlbear cub in Baldur's Gate 3, and I hate myself for it
I aspire to be a virtuous individual in Baldur's Gate 3. Although my understanding of "good" may differ from yours, please take note of that. I have n...
I aspire to be a virtuous individual in Baldur's Gate 3. Although my understanding of "good" may differ from yours, please take note of that. I have no qualms about eliminating individuals who vex me or withholding aid from those who have wronged me in the past. I harbor resentful emotions, yet I endeavor to act in the best interest of those in need. Or at least, for the aesthetically pleasing individuals.
Currently, I am still in the first act of Baldur's Gate 3, yet I feel as though I have already made a thousand pivotal and significant decisions. Slowly, I find myself pondering whether the developers were correct in stating that there are 17,000 potential endings to the game. Initially, I was prepared to engage in a battle against a devil in a dilapidated tower alongside a destitute group, until it became apparent to me that she was the true victim of the situation. Thus, I rescued Karlach, added her to my party, and decapitated those who intended her harm. Subsequently, I allowed her to set their bodies and all their belongings ablaze. This is the kind of "good" character I embody in Baldur's Gate 3. I believe in justice, staunchly adhere to my own righteous opinions, and embrace excessive violence. However, I also desire to possess an owlbear.
I became aware of the creature's presence when a group of adventurers perished in the middle of the road. I persuaded them to accompany me on a journey to the creature's cave, but my secret plan was to abandon them to their fate and invite the owlbear to become my lifelong best friend. How greatly I was mistaken.
For the first and final time during my gameplay, I utilized my otherwise useless animal handling skills to assess the situation. The body language of the owlbear made it unmistakably clear that I should depart, yet I chose not to do so. I knew that approaching any closer would provoke the creature to attack, but I yearned to caress either the owlbear itself or its adorable little cub, and I would not leave without either one.
It raised its beak and struck with its malevolent claws. I remained stoic, refraining from responding to demonstrate that I posed no threat, but my newfound allies were different. While Astarion stealthily crept to steal the owlbear egg, I aimed my bows and blades at the humans within the cave instead of the owlbears.
However, in the end, I had no other choice. The human assailants were dead, yet the owlbear persisted. Even its poor offspring attempted to intervene despite my hesitation. Thus, I killed the owlbear out of sheer self-defense. Certainly, I had invaded its home and attempted to steal its young, but it struck first. Nevertheless, I felt terrible. I had already slain countless goblins and humans, but this was the first time I felt remorse for a death caused by my own hand.
The worst was yet to come. The baby owlbear crawled over, grieving, and began to feed on its mother. One of my group members— I can't recall exactly who, as I was too distraught, but perhaps it was Lae'zel, or was it?—suggested that I spare the little one from further suffering, and I relented. The poor youngling appeared desperate, and this was the least I could do. And I had the egg to hatch, to provide the sibling of this unfortunate baby with the love and affection that befitted an orphan. I was a monster, but I would make amends.
It turns out that cursed egg is utterly useless. No matter how warmly I keep it, incubating it within the fiery pockets of Karlach, it refuses to hatch, and its sole future purpose is to deceive a Githyanki later on. During my customary post-mission guide check, I discovered that the only way to obtain a small owlbear cub as a companion is to let it be devoured by its mother and then encounter it in the goblin camp. Naturally.
Now I'm in a predicament. Not only am I plagued by guilt, but I also don't have an owlbear cub to cuddle and make things right. I killed them in vain and additionally put the life of an unborn puppy in the stolen egg at stake. Baldur's Gate 3 always makes you feel that your decisions matter, but this is the first time it truly makes me feel like a monster. However, there are many more events yet to unfold.