In my Faerun journey, I’ve encountered remarkable video game characters. Even those I initially disliked, like Lae’zal, grew on me with time. However, one character, Karlach, resonated with me from the start. I learned about Karlach before meeting her during a playthrough with my Dark Urge friend, encountering rumors painting her as a monstrous figure. Wyll also sought her demise due to a pact with a half-devil. When I finally met her, despite her imposing appearance, her words made me feel an unexpected connection.
Turns out, she was being manipulated. At a certain juncture, Karlach resided in Baldur’s Gate, serving as the personal bodyguard for Lord Enver Gortash. However, Gortash betrayed her by selling her to Zariel, the archdevil ruler of Avernus. Karlach was then coerced into becoming a soldier and engaging in the blood war for a decade.
On top of this, her body was changed forever. She had an infernal engine inside her, which kept her heart beating and her body running. She was quite literally hot to the touch and singed anyone who came in contact with her. Her body reacted with her emotions, which meant that if she was pissed off, she’d literally be on fire.
Wyll was in my party the first time I met her, and my first instinct was to protect her and help him see reason. While he did come off determined to kill her at first, he chilled out as the initial discussion progressed. She told us that she wanted our help getting revenge on the people hunting her—the same people who had asked me and my Dark Urge friend to hunt and kill her. Of course, I said yes. The fight was quite difficult, as the head honcho was a paladin, like me, but finally I smote him to death. After the fight, Karlach was in a total rage. You have the option to either help cool her off, or let her go completely ham on the enemy’s headquarters. I chose to let her light the place up.
She began to scream, and everything that she touched caught on fire. I had to leave the building after I suffered from burn status due to her actions. Watching her go through that moment of rage and finally feel relieved was both gratifying and familiar.
I get her need for emotional expression. As a child, I was often labeled as a ‘nice, quiet boy’ due to my reserved nature and aversion to confrontation. This stemmed from my concern about exacerbating my mother’s health issues, given her diagnoses of bipolar disorder and borderline schizophrenia. She became a mother at a young age, grappling with learning to parent while managing her mental health challenges. Despite her efforts with medication, finding an effective balance proved challenging due to the fluctuating nature of bipolar disorder. She experienced frequent swings between manic and depressive states.
During severe episodes, my mom would hospitalize herself for a week or two. I navigated cautiously around her during these times, enduring the lasting impact of her hurtful words that contributed to my PTSD. In my first year of college, she attempted suicide during a particularly severe episode, leaving a haunting memory. Over the past 15 years, I’ve undergone intermittent therapy, solidifying consistent sessions around 2018 during grad school, which marked the beginning of true healing. This process involved confronting my fear of being angry at my mom for her actions, understanding that acknowledging and processing anger is crucial for emotional health and preventing more intense emotions or emotional numbness later in life.
At times, guilt overwhelmed me in therapy, rendering me unable to express my emotions. Learning to allow myself to feel anger towards my mom was a turning point, a path towards genuine forgiveness, benefiting both her and me. Over the years, my mom chose therapy over medication, striving to manage her mental health with her therapist’s guidance. While it remains a challenging journey with persistent depressive states, they have improved from their previous severity. Additionally, she has transformed her mental health struggles into art, actively participating in local mental health advocacy and showcasing her art in galleries.
Karlach, betrayed by her mentor Gortash, understandably harbored deep anger too. Initially, her time with him was joyful, and she took pride in her position. However, that happiness was shattered when she awoke to find an infernal engine within her chest, thrust into a mentally abusive work relationship with a devil, forced to act against her will. Such a traumatic experience would naturally evoke anger. This reminded me of my own journey with PTSD, where anger played a significant role in learning to navigate and heal from the emotional wounds of trauma.
Karlach had endured a great deal. If you choose to save her, your character and the group become her newfound sanctuary—her safe space. Having a safe space is vital in the process of recovering from trauma. I personally had to establish my own safe spaces during my recovery, places where I could sit, breathe, and ground myself, allowing me to carry on with my day. Moreover, these were places where I could release my pent-up rage.
Karlach’s safe space is talking with you in camp and allowing her anger to let loose. For me, it was sitting down in my counselor’s office, letting my anger loose. Expressing anger in a safe and supportive environment can contribute to emotional healing and growth. It can be a step towards processing the trauma, building resilience, and working towards post-traumatic growth.
Once I genuinely felt anger towards my mom and her actions, a floodgate of emotions was unleashed. I began allowing myself to experience feelings I had suppressed for years. This surprised many family members and friends who often urged me to ‘calm down’ and ‘not be dramatic,’ but I stood my ground. The sense of freedom that came with expressing my true feelings was empowering—I no longer feared inconveniencing others.
It’s also why I frowned whenever there was an option to tell her to calm down.
Let her burn out the trauma, I say. Let her burn, so she can continue to be the lovable “Mama K” of the camp.