#she'd be sooo happy to have Wyll just do everything

[amnestria-the-elf]

I had a dream that my 77-year-old mother was isekai'ed into BG3, so of course I had to write a small little ditty about it.

To be clear, my mother would make a terrible Tav. She has no interest in fantasy or sci-fi and spends the majority of her time on Facebook. Being outside is her least favorite activity. Her favorite TV show is one of the Sunday morning news programs (I have no idea which, because I have not watched broadcast television since 2012, but she definitely tells me about the stories they have on that show all the time.) She is not a decisive person; she was raised in the toxic traditional gender role post-war Boomer era, and is perfectly fine to let others dictate how her life turns out.

Having said all of that, she'd make a decent Bard. For a sweet-looking older lady, she can come up with some surprisingly sick burns. Probably all of that repressed rage that she refuses to get therapy about. Anyway.

*~~~*

Linda was far too old for this shit.

Other women her age spent their time knitting, or going to their little exercise classes, or watching their soaps, or swapping stories about their grandchildren, or writing interesting Facebook posts. God, she missed writing Facebook posts.

But not Linda. Oh, no. Linda had somehow gotten pulled into a horrifying universe and had some kind of parasite inserted in her head, and now found herself surrounded by an unlikely band of misfits who shared the same affliction.

Perhaps she was having a psychotic break. Maybe she was really back home and her daughter had placed her in some kind of institution because she was entirely unresponsive. Honestly, she hoped that was true, but her back hurt like hell and every wound she sustained bled real blood, and that odd little Goth girl had to heal her every time, so she was reasonably certain that what was happening was real.

She was getting better at not getting wounded as often, at least. She learned that she was of better use to the group when she stayed in the back and just yelled insults at the enemies while everyone else did their thing. The angry alien lady seemed perfectly happy to take her rage out on anyone in her way and that disturbingly pale elf did well with his little bow and arrow. He really needed to get some color into his cheeks; he’d never find someone to be with looking like that. If only she could go to Walgreens and get him some bronzer. It would do him a world of good.

The magical bearded man did a surprisingly good job of cooking their meals. Linda tried to help but quickly realized she had no idea how to cook over an open fire. She longed to be back in her newly-remodeled kitchen, with the induction cooktop and smart fridge that automatically reordered her groceries for her. How did any of these people even function without wifi? They would never get to see the funny cat videos that she sent her daughter every day. Such a shame.

The most helpful companion was the heroic young man who had jumped down to fight the goblins in front of the Grove. What was his name? Will? No, Wyll with a “Y.” She remembered the odd little Goth girl teasing him about it. He had been so good with those little horned children after the fight. Her granddaughter would love playing with him.

Tears stung at her eyes as she thought about her granddaughter. Would she ever get to see her again? She sighed heavily as she stared down into her bowl of porridge.

“Are you alright?” a kind voice asked.

Linda looked up to see Wyll coming to sit down on the log next to her with his own bowl of porridge.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about my granddaughter,” she said.

“Oh, you have a granddaughter?” Wyll asked. “What is she like?”

“She’s about the same age as those kids you were training back in the Grove. I think she’d like you, actually. She’s very active. She tears around the house as fast as she can, slaying imaginary dragons or pretending to be a lion.”

Wyll laughed. “A courageous heart, no doubt. I hope I can meet her someday.”

Linda sighed wistfully again. “She lives… very far away from here.”

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You must miss her very much.”

“Yes,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes again.

“Istik, enough sniveling,” that angry alien lady interrupted. “We must find the creche today. Purification cannot wait.”

“Give her a break, Lae’zel,” Wyll said. “She misses her family.”

“Tch,” Lae’zel said with an eye roll, but walked away.

“We don’t have to listen to her, you know,” Wyll said when Lae’zel was out of earshot. “You can choose what we do today.”

“I don’t know what we should do,” she replied. “You decide.”

Wyll frowned. “Well, the area where the githyanki were spotted is not far from a little settlement, Waukeen’s rest. There might be a healer staying at the inn there. It’s a longshot, but…”

“That sounds fine,” Linda said. “Lead the way.”

*~~~*

The burning building put Linda over the edge. No way could she handle rushing into flames and smoke to save somebody. Let the young people kick in doors and risk life and limb. Wyll seemed very proud of himself as he rushed in, so Linda just sat down on the edge of the fountain with a soft groan. Minutes passed; she started to worry that perhaps they weren’t going to come back out when a group of sweaty, sooty people stumbled out, coughing. 

When it became clear that Wyll was actually the son of a Grand Duke, Linda’s mind was made up.

“That’s it, Wyll. From now on, you’re in charge,” she said.

“I’m… what?” he asked, bewildered.

“In charge. You make the decisions. I’m done,” she said.

“Um, you’re sure? I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes…”

“I’m sure. I don’t think any of the others can handle it. Magic man talks too much–”

“Magic man?” Wyll asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“I’m not good with names!” Linda snapped. “The pale one is too whiny and these two–” she gestured to Lae’zel and Shadowheart– “won’t quit fighting. That leaves you. Help me. Please.”

Lae’zel and Shadowheart both started to grumble, but Linda cut them off with a withering glare honed by years of experience taking care of children and a husband. Wyll eyed them, then nodded and took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll take charge. And make sure everyone gets what they need,” he said pointedly towards the others.

Good. Let Wyll do whatever needs to be done. From here on out, Linda was staying at camp.