The Shadow's Embrace: My Journey Through Baldur's Gate 3's Darkest Paths

The world of Faerûn unfolded before me not as a tapestry of light to be mended, but as a canvas of exquisite darkness, waiting for my brush to stain it with choices most would deem unthinkable. In the year 2026, as I embark on yet another pilgrimage through Baldur's Gate 3, I find myself drawn not to the hero's gleaming path, but to the shadowed alleys where morality bleeds into delicious ambiguity. This is not a tale of salvation, but of deliberate damnation—a symphony of consequences played in a minor key, where every evil deed is a note that resonates through the narrative, changing the very melody of the world. To walk this path is to see the story from the underside of the tapestry, where the threads are knotted and frayed, yet form a pattern of their own brutal beauty.

🌑 The First Fractures: Seeds of Villainy in Act 1

My descent began not with a roar, but with a series of calculated whispers against the light. The Emerald Grove, that bastion of desperate hope, became my first lesson in strategic cruelty.

Siding with the Goblins & Attacking the Emerald Grove

This was the overture to my symphony of shadows. The grove, with its druids and refugees clinging to life, was not a sanctuary to me—it was an obstacle. Aligning with Minthara and her goblin horde was like feeding a cherished sapling to a blight. The act itself was a declaration. The Emerald Grove is full of druids and refugees, yes, but to me, they were merely pieces on a board to be swept away. I watched as the fearsome drow, a cruel and violently racist religious devotee who will stop at nothing to praise the Absolute, became my dark reflection and, in time, a lover whose affection was as sharp as her blade. Romancing her was not about warmth, but about finding an equal in the cold. The subsequent massacre was not a tragedy I witnessed, but a resource I managed, severing future subplots like unnecessary limbs to streamline my ascent to power.

"Accidentally" Getting Barcus Killed

Evil need not always be grandiose; it can be a petty, whimsical thing. At the windmill, I found Barcus, a deep gnome tethered to fate's cruel wheel. The solution was simple: pull the "Brake" lever. But true malice often lies in the deliberate mistake. I reached for the other lever, the one marked "Release Brake." Pulling the second lever causes the windmill to spin faster, throwing Barcus to his death in a moment so absurd it felt less like murder and more like discarding a flawed tool. His demise was a private joke between me and the uncaring sky, a sacrifice to the god of my own amusement. His future subplots dissolved into the ether, unimportant whispers lost to the wind.

💀 The Price of Power: Sacrificing Souls for Strength

The path of darkness is paved with the souls of the kind, and I learned to tread upon them without flinching, each step granting a different kind of power.

Hunting Down Karlach

Meeting Karlach was like finding a forge-heart burning in a world of ice. Her kindness was a tangible warmth. Yet, when Wyll spoke of a hellion to hunt, I saw not a person, but an opportunity. I chose to hunt down Karlach without giving her so much as a chance. To confront her, side with the corrupt Paladins of Tyr, and then behead Karlach and bring back her head so that they can receive their reward was an act of profound betrayal. It was the systematic extinguishing of a light simply to prove I held the candle-snuffer. The reward, the Infernal Robe, felt like a shroud woven from her final embers, a perfect garment for my growing collection of spoils. Wyll's temporary approval was a fleeting currency, spent quickly on my journey deeper into the night.

Killing the Owlbear Cub

Violence against the innocent is one thing; violence against the innocent after showing them the source of their sorrow is another. In that dank cave, after dealing with the mother, I stood before the cub. Its helplessness was not a plea, but a provocation. There is no good reason to take the life of an animal seeking peace and shelter, which was precisely why I did it. This act was my soul becoming a closed fist, refusing to open even for the most vulnerable. It was an exercise in desensitization, a ritual to harden my heart into something as unyielding as stone. Alternatively, the patient evil of waiting for the goblins to take it, only to kill it after releasing it, is the ultimate act of spite—a gift of hope, immediately poisoned.

Helping Auntie Ethel

Evil often wears a kindly face. Auntie Ethel's deception was a masterclass in predatory patience. To aid her was to become a accomplice in a slow, twisting corruption. She shows that she is actually a hag that has kidnapped Mayrina, and by helping her confront the girl's brothers, I became the welcoming committee to a nightmare. Sparing her life after battle was not mercy, but an investment in future corruption, allowing her venom to seep further into the world. Her scenario taught me that true evil in Faerûn is often a patient vine, not a striking serpent, and I was now its willing gardener.

⚔️ Betrayals and Broken Oaths: The Architecture of a Villain

To build a lasting evil, one must first dismantle the foundations of good within oneself. This requires both internal and external betrayals.

Breaking Your Oath (Paladin Only)

In one life, I walked as a Paladin, a vessel for a sacred promise. To begin my dark pilgrimage, I had to break your oath as early as you can. It was not a single act, but a culmination—a killing here, a vile alliance there. When the oath shattered, it felt like the breaking of a divine ribcage. The Oathbreaker Knight will find you and give you the option to become an Oathbreaker, and his offer was not a condemnation, but a welcome. Embracing necromancy and auras of hatred was like trading a sunlit temple for a cathedral of beautifully stained shadows. My power no longer flowed from devotion, but from its deliberate negation.

Helping Sovereign Glut Kill Spaw & Become the Myconid Ruler

In the fungal glow of the Underdark, I found a microcosm of my own ambition. Sovereign Spaw was harmony; Glut was vengeful discord. Helping Glut stage his coup was an act of political malignancy. The choice he makes to overcome this loneliness is to kill Spaw and become the leader himself, and I was his catalyst. This was imperialism in miniature, overthrowing a stable society for the ambitions of a bitter outcast. It is hard to measure evil, as scrutiny of choices can lead to various interpretations, but this act had a satisfying finality to it, like poisoning a wellspring to claim the barren land around it.

Allowing Nere To Live

In the Grymforge, I freed True Soul Nere from his rocky tomb. His gratitude was as deep as a puddle, and his nature was immediately clear. He is a racial supremacist drow that actively participates in slavery circles. To side with him was to endorse a system of absolute degradation. Nere may kill one out of anger even after being saved, a perfect example of his petty tyranny. Allying with him was a conscious choice to swim in the filth of the world, believing it would make me stronger. It was partnering with a scorpion, not in hopes it wouldn't sting, but because I admired its venom.

🥚 The Delayed Poison: Evil with Long Shadows

Some choices are like planting a cursed seed, whose bitter fruit you may not taste for many hours.

Giving the Gith Egg to Lady Esther

This act is evil disguised as charity, a slow-acting toxin. Retrieving the egg from the Crèche and handing it to the seemingly noble Lady Esther feels like a good deed. But I knew better. It is one that ruins the livelihoods of several different characters in ways that unfold far from my immediate sight. It is an act of cosmic vandalism, setting in motion tragedies for people I will never meet. Doing this with foreknowledge in 2026 feels particularly wicked—it is scripting a tragedy for characters who have not yet even taken the stage, making me not just a player, but a malign playwright.

Helping Tieflings Kill Lae'Zel

Near the wreckage of the nautiloid, I found Lae'zel, a fierce and valuable ally, captive. The pragmatic choice was to free her. The evil choice was to choose to kill her alongside the tieflings. It was the betrayal of a potential ally for the fleeting trust of strangers, a short-sighted trade that permanently altered my access to the Githyanki storyline. It was like burning a bridge before checking the map, simply for the warmth of the fire and the approval of those standing nearby.

📜 Reflections from the Abyss

This journey through Baldur's Gate 3's darkest possibilities has been less about conquest and more about transformation. The world did not become a darker place because of me; rather, I became a creature capable of perceiving—and preferring—its existing shadows. The companions who left were pruned branches, making the tree of my ambition grow straighter, if more barren. The subplots I severed were narrative veins I chose to cauterize.

Act of Evil	Immediate Consequence	Lasting Impact on the World
Siding with Goblins	Grove destroyed, Minthara allied.	Refugees eradicated, multiple Act 2/3 questlines erased.
Killing Karlach	Obtain Infernal Robe, Wyll's approval.	Lose a passionate companion, embrace a defining act of betrayal.
Breaking Paladin Oath	Become Oathbreaker, gain necromantic powers.	Fundamental shift in character identity and mechanics.
Giving Away Gith Egg	Gold and approval from Esther.	Unfolds as a distant tragedy, corrupting lives unseen.

In the end, an evil playthrough is not about losing. It is about winning on a different board, with a different set of pieces, where kindness is the forfeit and power is the prize. It is to watch the story become a cracked mirror, reflecting back a version of yourself that is undeniably compelling, terrifying, and utterly, poetically damned. The beauty of this path in 2026 is its enduring resonance—a testament to a game world that does not judge your choices, but faithfully, magnificently, reflects them back at you, in all their terrible glory.