To be sold to the highest bidder. [Bad End]

From that day forwards, rape becomes a daily part of your life. At first, in the dark dungeon they're keeping you in, by whatever guard happens to be watching you that day. You cry and struggle every time, but can't stop it. They keep you shackled, unable to cast the spells that would be able to get you out of here. You're just any other woman to them, not an accomplished sorceress capable of immolating a building or scrying across all of creation.

They don't even try to not get you pregnant, finishing in you every time. You're sure that one day you're luck's going to run out.

After a month of this treatment, you're loaded onto a ship. The crew are given strict instructions to not touch you. That lasts for a week, before the sailors start taking you in turns, confident that nobody will believe your words.

You're on the ship for a week, before arriving in a familiar location. You've been here before. Luskan.

Fuck.

You've made enemies here. Powerful ones.

Your worst fears are realized while you're being delivered to your destination. During the handoff, the sailors who brought you here are all killed. Why, you don't know. You have no sympathy. They've all had you.

Several days later, you've been cleaned up, made up, ensorcelled and beautified. Your mind feels foggy, but you can't quite tell how. Some kind of curse, you think. It prevents you from casting spells, even without the shackles. They keep you in a gorgeous cell, with fine silks, pillows, and a window overlooking the port. But it's still a cell.

On the morning of your first week in Luskan, your captor finally deigns to visit you. Count Lowell Oskar. Years ago, you played him for a fool, feigning falling for him to knock him unconscious in his bedroom, and rob him blind. He's a small, pale man, wearing immaculate robes of golden thread. He's taken care to make up for this meeting, but no amount of preparation can make up for how vile you find him.

"Oskar... what have you done to me?"

Your voice is soft. You're not sure what's happening.

"Vithe, my dear. I'm simply here to offer a transaction. Considerable expense was made to bring you here, and prepare you for our meeting. Did you know you were pregnant? Likely with the child of some ruffian, I'm sure."

He moves into the room, pulling off his gloves as he does so, and sits on the bed next to you. You just look at him with a confused expression.

"Unacceptable. A woman like you needs somebody of standing. Now, I had planned to bed you on our last encounter, but, well, you made short work of that."

Pausing to stroke your hair, you remain as still as a rock, watching him.

"The deal is simple. I will take you as my wife, you will perform the role as expected of you, and give me three sons. Once the transaction has been completed, the curse will be lifted, your sorcery returned to you, and you are free to go and do as you wish. That will cover the value of both what you stole from me, and the expense of bringing you here."

You shake your head. You know a bad deal when you hear one, even in your sorry state. You're not willing to mother some counts brood. The insinuation you would be willing to do that itself is insulting.

"I'm sorry my dear, but it wasn't optional."

That night, he takes you. You're force-fed some concoction before he visits every night thereafter, with varying effects. Some nights you just wake up at night, filled with his seed with no memory of the previous day. Some nights he just physically forces himself on you. On others, you give yourself to him willingly, but can't reconcile that with your feelings and mood. A love potion, most likely.

Violated by him again and again, you quickly find yourself swelling with the first of his brood. You've never been pregnant before. You hate it.

The deal is concluded almost five years later. You've given Oskar three sons, and two daughters in the process, finding yourself in a near perpetual state of pregnancy. He upholds his end of the bargain, but not before raping another brat into you, whom you give birth to once back in Neverwinter.

Eventually, your faculties come back to you, though you never quite recover the same level of magical ability. You don't adventure again. Instead, you pursue a career as a messaging sorceress, providing Sending spells to the wealthy to make a modest living for you and your child, and try very hard to not think about the missing years of your life.