It...it lives? IT LIVES!!!! Really happy to see this return!
Gods Playing Dice (A 3.5 Archivist in Baldur's Gate 3)
- Thread starter Blinktwice13
- Start date
Love to see you updating the fix Blink but damn... Torius is definitely a D&D player.
I have waited a long time for this moment, my magical gay friend.
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Party member from BG 1/2 who has a more complex character than shown in 3. Most of her best endings tended to put her as neutral aligned and using divine power as a tool for survival but in-game for 3 she got turned into a Sharran Zealot who abused Shadowheart her entire life so her goddess could prove a point. Her characterization comes from a fairly contested supplement if I recall.
RangerKarl
angry un liaison on forced vacation
Finally catching up, Playable Withers mod when, Nexusmods?
Always super fun to read.
- Location
- Texas
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Is Torius just a straight lv 20 archivist or has he taken some prestige class(es)?
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Straight archivist with some bits that I'm building up to. I considered giving a Sacred Exorcist dip for Divine Metamagic shenanigans, but considering the Soul Stuff I revealed in Chapter 13 and all his gear, I think he's doing fine without.
Tome Fourteen: Path of Rosy Dawn
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
A/N: Part one of Creche! I intend to make it two, three chapters max. I've also skipped a lot of scenes and simply alluded to them if they don't really move the story forward for this part. I'm starting to solidify some of the mysteries around Torius, and playing up more of his High Int aspects. Also, another blast from the past - early on.
Content Notes: Githyanki Stuff. Things happening in the Creche, Vlaakith Gaslight Gatekeep Girlbossing per usual. Torius happens to somebody, but just the once.
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"I must speak with-"
"Sh-sh-shh. Such a familiar tone. Were I not merciful, I would cut the skin clean from your meat." The male githyanki held up a hand in a gesture that would be placating in any other circumstance. "Yet you are not bleeding – for I am nothing if not merciful."
I looked at Lae'zel, hands loosely at my sides. Out of the corner of my eye, the red dragon watched me with intent. Wait… those scars on his chest…
Lae'zel bowed her head.
"Your name, child."
"Lae'zel."
"'Lae'zel'," he parroted. "A proud name. Regal, even. You will call me jhe'stil kith'rak."
"Voss, knight supreme," Lae'zel breathed. "The queen's silver, the queen's sword."
Okay, he's important, but who is that drago- Oh. Uh oh.
I grimaced.
"Have you something to say, istik?" Voss' attention snapped to me.
Creccoth looked down at me. We'd made a small group, leaving the rest in reserve. Alfira and Shadowheart hovered nearby.
Lae'zel glared at me. "Your might is respected, Torius. Do not set it against my people."
The dragon's gaze sharpened. Recognition.
"Mmmmight be a little late for that. Hey, Qudenos."
Voss narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Lae'zel's widened. "What?"
"Please tell me you didn't fight the dragon," Shadowheart whispered.
Qudenos lumbered forth, the rest of the Githyanki patrol scrambling to give him space. "Torius Ancast. You are the same as when you laid us low." His voice was a low rumble, the echo of a mountain's innards. His head hung over us, our entire group well within range of his flames.
"Well, the only change you seem to have had is that you healed up from where I let you live." I planted my hands on my hips. "I guess the Astral and the Archives are similar in that respect."
The dragon gave a rumbling chuckle. "Indeed. Voss- do not antagonize him. Too much rides on us to die a foolish death." He changed to Draconic for his words to the Gith, one eye on me.
The 'Queen's Silver' gave me a searching look. Slowly, an expression of awe dawned. "You… you are one of the five who brought down Tiamat in full, driving her to Avernus. The Silverlight's Blade, the Dawnbringer's Song, the Mistress of Malbolge, Mystryl's only Chosen – and the Heretic That Shook The Skies."
Alfira looked at me with wide eyes. I scratched my neck. "Haven't heard that one in a while."
"What business do you have with us, Heretic Scholar?" Voss folded his arms, fully dismissing Lae'zel.
She bristled.
"Oh, Lord Jergal let me out for a walk. My friend Lae'zel is the one who wanted to speak to you, actually." I smiled brightly. "In fact, I gifted her the armor I once made for 'the Silverlight's Blade'."
Voss turned his head to look at Lae'zel.
She saluted him with a severe look. "Jhe'stil kith'rak, we seek purification. Barring some members of our group, we have been infected with ghaik parasites."
One of the Githyanki immediately reached for her blade.
"I halted any potential transformation. They're enchanted by Netherese magic. If they weren't, I could simply remove the parasites myself. As they are, I used a device of my own devising to invoke Mind Blank on the infected." I gave the woman a flat look. "If they pose a threat, it's only to people idiot enough to draw arms against them."
She bared her teeth, and pulled it out.
"Baretha!" Voss barked, authority in every inch of his body.
I rolled my eyes. "Stupid. Lae'zel, does she matter?"
Baretha charged.
Lae'zel's lip curled. "She has disobeyed orders from the kith'rak. No."
I shrugged and pointed at her. "Alright. Bye."
She rasped once, stumbling as the moisture was ripped from her body. Pale skin took the texture of old parchment, eyes yellowed, lips cracked. She took another step. She fell.
With a sickening crack her ear snapped in two bloodlessly. Baretha did not move.
I looked at Voss with a sunny smile. "So! About that… what was it, Lae'zel?"
"Zaith'isk." She gave a grim stare.
"Right, that. She says that it should succeed where I failed. Because Vlaakith or something."
The Githyanki patrol bristled, but Qudenos rumbled threateningly.
"He is every inch her equal, if not superior. If she faced him alone, only her workings to his – he would survive. She may not."
Voss' eyes widened, clearly the only one besides myself party to what probably amounted to heresy.
"Vlaakith's light will cleanse us. We merely require a Creche." Lae'zel gave me a frown. "Do not be so flippant in regards to the Undying Queen."
I shrugged. "I'll try."
Creccoth placed a hand on my head. "Try harder." He looked to Voss. "Lae'zel said that as we traveled with her, we would be given the same assistance that she would. Is this true?"
Voss gave me a conflicted look, then turned to Creccoth. "This is unprecedented. By all rights I should put the lot of you down for your own good. However…" He looked to his companion.
Qudenos nodded. "If he says he has halted the transformation, then he has no reason to lie. I have seen his works. My kin, red and otherwise, formed an honor guard for our Queen. He and the moonlit one were the only to make it past our ranks. She felled one head. Alone, he crushed four." He looked to me. "He is a worthy opponent, strong." His nostrils flared, and his gaze trailed to Creccoth.
"And spoken for," Creccoth rumbled in their shared language, moving his arm around my shoulders. Oh. He probably heard all that too.
"You are in luck, Lae'zel. A Creche is within these mountains." Voss pointed down a nearby path. "In a temple formerly dedicated to Lathander sits Creche Y'llek."
My eyebrows slowly rose. That was a name I hadn't heard in a while. "Lathander? Aspect of Amaunator?"
"No. The two are distinct entities." Shadowheart gave me a sidelong look.
"Oh. Well, time for more awkward then."
"...why?" Alfira asked hesitantly.
"I miiiight have hit on him once when I was like, fifteen."
Voss' expression became a thousand-yard stare. He slowly turned to Qudenos.
"He remains our best hope for change."
"Jhe'stil kith'rak, do not be deceived by his demeanor. His power is undeniable." Lae'zel gestured at Baretha's corpse.
Baretha crumbled a little bit more.
"I begin to see why Tootsie is so insistent on keeping you in check," Shadowheart drawled, a pained look on her face.
The Githyanki patrol began to look deeply uncomfortable.
"...Tootsie?" Voss whispered.
I perked up. "My Celestial Dire Honey Badger!"
"Oi."
Voss slowly looked down and to the right, away from his dragon.
Tootsie stared back at him, pink bow blinding against her silver fur. "How's tricks."
"She too is unchanged." Despite his reptilian visage, my experience with Creccoth told me that Qudenos was enjoying every moment of Voss' non-lethal mental break.
"...I see." Voss shook himself once. "We search for an artifact on behalf of our queen. Child, report to the Creche and receive further instruction." He gave me a severe look. "We believe it was on the ghaik vessel, and search these lands for the weapon."
"What did it look like?" Alfira asked curiously.
"A spined polyhedron, marked in the sacred text of our people. I do not expect an istik to recognize Tir'su, but the shape at least is distinctive." He stared her down.
Alfira cocked her head. "Hm. Can't say I've seen it. We'll have a look after your people have helped my friends."
Lae'zel looked over my head at Creccoth. Whatever she saw caused her to hold her tongue.
Voss moved towards Qudenos. Paused. "Go, and search for the artifact! Our business here is concluded," he ordered the patrol. "Sarth Baretha made her choice and charged a dragon's maw. Do not follow her example and die a useless death."
The proud warriors moved out, a spring in their step. If not for the extra burst of speed, one could never have told they were fleeing for their lives.
With that, Voss mounted Qudenos, and finally looked upon us once more. "Go to the Creche. We will meet again, I am sure." And the dragon took flight.
As we watched him fly away, there was one final question.
"Lathander? Really?" Shadowheart's tone dripped with scorn.
"I didn't see any statues to recognize him by, and he was hot!"
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Creccoth
The closer you draw to Creche Y'llek, the more your scales tingle in anticipation. Without the worm, the possibility of your broken mind's repair becomes more real.
However, not all your companions are equally thrilled.
"Regardless of how our time at the Creche resolves, I still suggest taking the Underdark. The exit from there into the Shadow-Cursed Lands may be further from Moonrise, but the walking paths are better defined. This will bring us closer, but to a more ravaged area." Halsin, for example.
"The Gith are dangerous, and not all of them will be flying dragons that consider Torius a 'worthy opponent'." Or in a more dire turn, Shadowheart. "We can't trust that they will respect him as a threat."
Some are more enthusiastic.
"Cease your bleating. Purification is nigh, and we will be freed of these parasites." Lae'zel pauses. "However, I will still lend my might against this 'Absolute'. It is clearly a ghaik plot, and must be dismantled to its roots."
"And! If they decide to attack us, we still have an escape option." Astarion places a hand on Torius' shoulder. "One who can get us out, kill them all, or both. I prefer both!"
Lae'zel's countenance takes on a new expression – uncertainty. Thus far, Torius' power has been aimed at aiding and assisting her. The idea of him as an enemy makes her wary.
"That's an issue for later." You look behind yourself. The valley you had to cross on an unused skyway lies behind you, as well as that adventurer who desired a gith egg. That had been a rather delicate situation.
Torius slumps slightly.
"Dare I ask what the problem is?" Shadowheart asks. Despite the words, her tone is more even than callous.
"There's no way that lil' guy is gonna find us here." Torius gives you a piteous look.
"The what?" Gale's brow furrows.
"Ah. The owlbear cub." Godless gives a patient nod.
You hear a soft, curious trill. As one, your companions turn to look past what appears to be a recently cleaned skeleton.
A small furred and feathered body greets your sight, round with muscle and long of claw. Inquisitive yellow eyes gaze upward at you.
"My child."
Gale jolts, clearly remembering something. "Ah! Volo was meant to meet us at camp, but we were in Torius' manor! I hope he's quite alright."
Torius ignores this outburst, hand-feeding jerky to the startlingly compliant owlbear.
"Er." Gale looks around for any form of support.
"Well, Volo made it out alright – else we would have seen him on our way out the goblin camp. Hopefully when we meet again he won't be in such dire straits?" Wyll offers.
Minthara narrows her eyes at them. "Whomst?"
"A bard barely worthy of the name," Alfira mutters. "Brass dragon bringing up the rear of a goblin patrol my arse."
"...even with limited exposure to true dragons, I am still aware that metallic wyrms have no love for goblinkind."
"It would be a push for a chromatic dragon as well." Lae'zel and Minthara exchange a dour look.
Torius ignores them, fixated on preening the little cub. It coos at him in contentment. "Alright, little fella. In you go!" With a gesture, a familiar portal of light opens. "There are friends in there – they aren't food. But if you behave, Miss Tara will help you get food. Alright?"
The cub chirps happily, somehow understanding his words.
"I'm glad you approve; there are many nice-smelling plants in there. The garden's quite safe and has plenty of space to run."
With that, the owlbear cub wanders into the demiplane and the ring of light closes.
Torius stands, brushing his knees. "Right, sorry about that. Did I miss anything important?"
"Well-" Gale begins.
"Not particularly," Astarion interrupts with an insincere smile.
Gale's expression immediately drops to a scowl, and you decide the time to interject has arrived.
"It might be to our advantage to divide our forces – leave a majority as backup in case things go sour." You look to Lae'zel. "No offense to you, but your esteemed kith'rak didn't inspire confidence in equitable treatment until his steed recognized Torius and shut down any confrontation."
Lae'zel's eyes lower. "You speak truth, Creccoth. He was more than prepared to slaughter us all, or give the order. Only Torius' reputation kept the peace."
"Maybe Glasya has a point about that…" Torius mutters, loud enough to be heard.
"Being feared is all well and good, but 'tis better to be loved. Above all else, you must avoid being hated." Wyll cuts in with gentle gestures. "A reputation is a two-edged blade. It can inspire others to aid you as well as fear you. But if you do not take care, it can inspire them to attack you on sight, for their own safety."
Torius tilts his head, visibly internalizing Wyll's advice. "Noted."
"Then who should go?" Halsin asks, adding his voice.
"We should, barring Torius, keep to the infected for our initial group. I would keep you, Godless, and Alfira in reserve." You pause, considering. "Of course, Lae'zel and myself are also required."
Lae'zel nods, mollified.
"...maybe we can get answers about that prison." Torius looks to Shadowheart. "Lae'zel said it has Tir'su on it, that's gith writing. Right?"
"Indeed." Lae'zel narrows her eyes at Shadowheart.
The cleric stiffens, clearly uncomfortable. "I… will admit to curiosity, but are you certain that is the wisest move?"
"Well, let's say the item was hypothetically stolen. The thieves are all dead, and you have no memory of how it all went down, right? Who's to say you aren't simply returning it where it belongs?" Alfira gives a small shrug.
Shadowheart's frown deepens. "Perhaps, but I am still sworn to deliver it to Baldur's Gate. That remains a sticking point in your pretty picture."
"True." Torius' eyelids lower in contemplation. "Hm."
"...the fiend Raphael has a design. It includes the artifact, it includes the ghaik parasites in our heads, and it includes us. We do not see all, nor know it. We must learn more." Lae'zel gives Shadowheart a considering look. "If it is a prisoner of my people, then an argument could be made for an alternative sentence – consignment to a Sharran cloister, perhaps."
Shadowheart blinks rapidly, clearly taken aback.
"You think they would go for it?" you ask.
"There is a possibility, but I do not trust my tongue to yield that result." Lae'zel's gaze is fixed on you. "As you said, you will be invaluable within the Creche."
You give a single nod. "Right. Myself, Lae'zel, Torius, and Shadowheart. Anyone else feeling lucky?"
Torius gives a quick glance over the group. "If we're limiting ourselves to 'tadpoled plus archivist', we have two divine casters, a sorcerer, and a fighter. Astarion is good at range but if this is a military station it'll be locked down too tight for stealth. I can wear a lot of hats, but we want someone who can mix distances and someone who can draw fire."
Wyll looks at Karlach. "Between my eldritch blasts and swordplay and your force, I think we might have been singled out."
"Could have, soldier," Karlach agrees with an easy smile. "It'll be on you and Lae'zel to smooth things over, but if all else fails we'll crack some heads."
Torius rolls his shoulders. "Tootsie? You'll be underground for the majority of the time. Check in periodically if you can."
The badger gives a nod.
"Ugh. I can't say I like being left behind on this, darlings." Astarion gives you a pout, but it barely conceals his concern. "It all sounds rather boring. Dreadful, really."
"We'll need you to get them in if things get loud," you say after a moment's thought. "I don't doubt that they'll lock the door behind us, to say the least."
Astarion sighs, but seems less than mollified. "Fine. Just don't whine to me when we inevitably have to get you out of there."
_____________________________________________________________________________
I peeked around the corner, Lae'zel's head above mine and the rest of the group behind us.
As soon as I did, I felt the subtle warmth of divine energies wash over me from higher up the monastery.
Rosymorn, the wind seemed to whisper to me. ...apparently I was getting tapped for a favor. Well. Alright.
"No, no, no! I'm not going in there!" Thwip! Thud.
I looked down at the cooling corpse of the halfling in black. I looked up and saw the Githyanki warriors herding two others into a wide doorway.
"Chk. The cultists have the Creche on high alert. Tread carefully." Lae'zel emerged from behind me.
I wandered over and flipped the dead woman onto her back. Around her neck was an amulet – an inverted triangle around a skull. The skull formed the palm of a hand.
The breeze stirred again, almost foreboding.
"Shadowheart, does this symbol mean anything to you?" I asked.
She came over, eyes narrow. She looked at it. "No, it doesn't. I remember seeing it in that camp, but otherwise? It's new."
"Hm." I thought about it. "What about as a composite?"
She looked at me. "What?"
"Like, there are clearly more gods than there were in Netheril. Could this be a combination of multiple symbols?"
Her lips thinned, and she looked again. "...the skull is consistent with Jergal, Myrkul, and Bhaal. Myrkul's symbol is a skull within an upright triangle, however. Bhaal's skull is surrounded by a circle of blood droplets in a sort of halo. The hand resembles the black hand of Bane, the tyrant." She shook her head. "I don't know what the context for this is, beyond the 'Absolute' the cult worships."
I narrowed my eyes. "...three 'Chosen', according to Minthara. Orin the Red, Ketheric Throm, and Enver Gortash."
"WHAT."
I looked up, eyes wide.
Karlach stormed over. "That- that bleeding wanker's a Chosen of this cult!? Oh, fuck him. Fuck them. I'm going to burn them to the ground."
I frowned, considering.
"Gortash? He's a minor politician back in Baldur's Gate," Wyll added. "No one of consideration, at least my father said years ago. Considered himself an inventor of sorts."
"I worked for him."
The connection formed, a careless comment from Glasya. "He's the one who sold you to Zariel. A Banite."
Karlach's shoulders dropped. "Shit. Shit. What the actual, bloody, hells." Her expression was distraught.
Creccoth put a hand on my shoulder. "Torius?" he prompted.
"I just thought – this symbol can't come from nothing; it needs meaning. And a skull means death. If my Lord was behind this, he wouldn't set me on it. It stood to reason that along with his domains, one or more of his inheritors – inadequate they may be – could have spun off of his symbol."
"And here we have an icon combining all three. And three Chosen for its cult – one for each of the Dead Three." Shadowheart met my eyes with dawning horror. "Oh hells."
I stood. Inhaled. Exhaled. "Well. That's for later. For now, we get your worms gone. After, we kill them all and shut their mind flayer fun down."
Wyll put a hand on Karlach's back. "And we will. If this cult is a plot by the Dead Three, then it threatens not only Baldur's Gate, but the entire Sword Coast. Possibly even Toril itself."
Lae'zel frowned, looking at the door to the Creche. "Chk. This was already infuriating when it was merely ghaik. Now these Faerun gods are involved."
Shadowheart shook her head. "Dark Lady preserve us."
I looked up at the sealed gate – held by an arcane lock I could easily dispel. Then I craned my neck and narrowed my eyes. "Hm."
"We cannot afford to separate," Lae'zel hissed, looming.
"So you wait here for ten minutes tops, and I go get whatever it is Lathander's nudging me at."
Shadowheart gave me a blank look. "Did you not say, not an hour prior, that your relationship with him was 'awkward'?" She placed a hand on her forehead. "And of course. Of course a god would reach out to another's Chosen while we're in his monastery. Naturally."
"I mean, insomuch as anyone would be awkward regarding an old crush. He didn't seem to hold it against me, thankfully."
"Ahh, yes. I'm more than familiar with the feeling." Wyll gave me a wry smile. "Go on, then. We'll keep for a short time."
I looked at Creccoth.
"Go. If they return, Lae'zel can speak on our behalf."
She jerked her head with a dour glare. "Be quick."
I reached up and adjusted my circlet- then flew. The feeling of wings sprouting from my back, the-
"Did he just turn into a bloody angel!?"
I landed quietly on the top of the monastery. Guided by faint breeze and shifting light and shadow, I made my way to some sort of glass picture set in the floor. It was damaged by the ravages of time – and, perhaps, the Githyanki repurposing the temple.
"I can't imagine the monks here left quietly," I murmured.
No, they didn't.
I looked up.
The roof was cracked, and sunlight solidified into a faint outline of a man barely older than me. You look well. He smiled wistfully.
"...you're flying quiet, then?" I asked.
I barely made out his firm nod. Barring a faint handful of exceptions, direct intervention by the majority of us has been forbidden by Ao. Jergal meant to act as a failsafe, returning life to your compatriots for a pittance of gold – amongst other small services. He was denied. Selune informed me that you would be free to act, and here you are.
I rubbed my elbows nervously. "Right. So, what would you ask of me?"
Even as a faint outline, I could make out his frown. An artifact of my clergy remains, hidden from the gith. I have no ill feelings toward the Githzerai nor the rebels of this sect, but they have killed my people – people who aided those in need. Were I capable of direct intervention, I would have activated the weapon on the roof and destroyed them. A youthful smile glimmered. But with you, I have options – and you will be compensated; this I swear.
I shuffled. "Lae'zel… hrm. If my suspicions are correct, then…"
The avatar tilted its head.
"Something is rotten with the Githyanki. If I can't get a parasite out, I don't know if they can either. If I can shake her faith enough, then I might be able to turn her against them. It would take… a lot."
Lathander's image contemplated my words. I have some knowledge of them. The majority of their saga happened on the astral, and they do not worship me. But this is still my temple, and one has a disc with contraband information. It speaks of a prince deposed and removed, all in exchange for Vlaakith's power. I too have seen the results of their 'purification', and believe that the attempt will begin the first crack.
"It's a heresy. And Qudenos- he wouldn't be content serving a lich." A series of thoughts flickered, chaining into each other. "At one point, Lae'zel mentioned to Creccoth ascension. A thousand-year tyrant wouldn't share power. Do you think…?"
Lathander made a sweeping gesture with his palms. I cannot say for certain. It would not surprise me, but you must confirm it yourself. Now, my request?
Even in my Solar form, I flushed. "Sorry."
His chuckle was like a note of birdsong on the breeze. Think nothing of it, young man. Now, some time after your seclusion I entered battle against a vile evil by the name of Sammaster. In that fight I took physical form, and despite my victory I bled. Three drops, held in amber. My clergy bound it to a mace, naming it what it was – 'Blood of Lathander'. A powerful weapon bearing my brightest light.
"Which would be used to operate that?" I pointed in the direction of the device I'd seen passing by – an amalgam of metal, crystal, and glass. Definitely meant to refract light into a weapon, but not that of the sun overhead.
Just so. It is hidden down a passage guarded by crystal and curio, within the innermost workings of the device. If taken without permission, it will loose what charge remains and bring the temple down. I would prefer you and yours escape and deal with Shar's pique.
"...you want us to have it. Keep it from the gith, and use it against the cult. Lathander, how dan-"
I cannot say. This was softer than his whispers. Had I the permission, I would gladly offer my aid as in days of old. But this world is different, and only your blood gives you what you have. He folded his arms. And on that too, I have tread the line on what may be shared. Only one god can answer more.
I sighed. "Fucking old men. Can't blame you, not really. So. What do I need to do?"
Battleaxe, mace, warhammer. Lathander's avatar pointed to three unoccupied altars. One for each Dawnmaster past. This will reveal the crest needed to authorize removal of my Blood. It will be a light in dark places, and you shall always carry the sun. Although, your Death Ward would amply do against the Nightsinger's fury as well.
"So it IS a necrosis!" I clicked my fingers.
Another chuckle. Bright lad. I will watch and bless you as I am able. Please- take care. He paused. After a moment, I realized he was hesitating. Sune, too, sends her regards. And seems to have taken an interest.
"Why- oh." I swallowed. "Creccoth."
A fascinating chance for a new dawn. Behind him is endless midnight and rot. But by his own will and your own aid – yes, he has a chance to start anew. Lathander clapped his hands soundlessly, barely stirring the air. My time here ends. Move quickly, move with purpose.
"I'll watch my step too, for good measure." With a click of my fingers, the named weapons fell onto their respective altars.
The sunlight flared mildly, illuminating a boyish grin as the god vanished.
I turned to see an alcove swing open, a four-pointed crest at rest within.
"...my blood?" I murmured. Not Selune. I lacked anything Aylin had (and oh that would put a very ugly spin on our attempted tryst). Maybe my mother was an arcanist of some sort? Or a Chosen? No, Mystryl had the one and she was my peer.
I picked up the Dawnmaster Crest and hid it in my robe. Immediately I felt its warmth.
"Well. Here's hoping that the Creche isn't as much of a disaster as that implied."
_____________________________________________________________________________
I bristled, fists clenched.
"Strange. A sa'varsh in Creche K'liir would never have wasted time on berating a recalcitrant student. He would have long been dead at the hands of his age-mates."
"Really? And this is encouraged?" Shadowheart shot me a dark look, laden with 'told-you-so's.
"It is needed. The culling of the weak, those unworthy to fight for Vlaakith. She is our eternal sun, our unending light. As an army, we are only as strong as our weakest – there is no place for hesitation, no room for mercy."
I glared at Lae'zel. "So what does it say that Voss and his compatriots would have killed you if I hadn't been there?"
Lae'zel jerked her head away. "Chk. Voss clearly has his own agenda, his own desires. Any other would have directed us here to the zaith'isk as fellow faithful."
I doubted that. It must have shown on my face, because Wyll stepped forward. "Well, as Astarion would put it, this place is locked down tighter than a patriar's purse. It might be for the best we chose the diplomatic route."
"Hm. The Creche is also strangely lenient. Not only with the rearing of the youth, but in terms of security. I would have expected us to be disarmed. Make no mistake, I am gladdened we retain our weapons – but it begs the question of why."
"They might be employing mercenaries to find the weapon. If they're that desperate for it, then maybe they decided to loosen their grip, if slightly." Creccoth held his chin in his hand.
"Soo. We stopped a kid from being speared, and we have an egg. Well, Lae'zel does." Karlach gestured at her.
Lae'zel glowered. "We will not be giving it to that kainyank."
"Too right. Esther can cope with it." Karlach nodded firmly.
We arrived at a doorway. "We are here." Lae'zel pushed it open.
I immediately felt my neck hair rise. This wasn't a medical laboratory. This was for experimentation.
The 'doctor' loomed over a sphere, some sort of magnifying device between her and the specimen. To her left was some organo-mechanical monstrosity.
I swallowed, tucking myself into Creccoth's side.
He looked down at me, at his surroundings, and briefly closed his eyes. He opened them and placed an arm around my shoulders.
"Ghustil-"
"Shh. A moment." She stood from her specimen.
"Am I not a child of Gith? Am I to be disregarded like an istik?"
"That is to be determined by the responses of the company you keep." Her gaze swept over us, and stopped. "And who are you?" Her eyes fixed on Creccoth, and I felt another chill. She meant harm.
The zaith'isk would be the start. That's what Lathander intuited.
"I would prefer Lae'zel speak for me," Creccoth demurred.
"Lae'zel? Very well then." The scientist's gaze turned to our gith companion. I rolled the air between my fingertips, watching closely. "What brings you to me, taking time I could use to research these?"
"We come for the zaith'isk, for purification – as Vlaakith said, her faithful are entitled when infected with-"
"Ghaik parasites? Fascinating." The scientist stared Lae'zel down. "And yet not a single sign of ceremorphosis. Nor are you showing signs like these cultists." She gestured behind her. "I have examined these larvae, but they're like nothing I've seen. I wonder, is your parasite special? Or perhaps the host… still, we will find out. Come."
I watched from the rear, eyes raking the strange device.
"This is the zaith'isk. Be glad, istik- few githyanki see it, and even fewer of your ilk."
It carried a strange energy, not magical. The mechanics were visible with the presence of an angling table for the subject to recline on, but the remainder looked like some sort of parasite. Almost like a tick. Organic, chitinous in some places and glossed with slime in others.
...wait. Non-magical, but energy – psionics? Could it be?
I balled my fists and looked at Shadowheart. She looked back, and I gave a sharp jerk of my head. Her eyes narrowed, and she gave a brief nod in response.
Wyll caught our exchange, and his lip curled but he said nothing. Karlach, Lae'zel, and Creccoth were in front of us.
"My destiny, my right." Lae'zel's eyes bored into us.
"Go on, Lae'zel." Creccoth nodded.
She kept looking at me.
I exhaled. "I don't have any experience with this kind of artifact. I'd need to see it in action to know its workings." I shrugged. "Your call."
"Of course you have no idea. And to gain insight into the workings of such a thing by mere observation- g'lyck." The ghustil shook her head with an amused smile. "Come, child. Let the zaith'isk ease your suffering."
Lae'zel moved onto the table, laying back. It reclined, and the organic aspect descended.
...I loosened the mind-shield's protection. Not wholly, but enough for the thing to do its work.
The thing's pincer-mandibles opened, lowered to either side of Lae'zel's head, and swung-! Only to halt and encase her head in a psionic sphere.
My eyes widened in shock as Lae'zel began to squirm, chanting something to shield against the pain.
"Yes, the verses! Recite them child, and let the zaith'isk do its work!"
Creccoth glanced at me, but I focused on Lae'zel. Detect Magic was slower to grasp psionics, but if I focused enough…
Ah. Ah. I saw it.
I grit my teeth. "No."
"What?" The scientist looked at me in confusion.
"LAE'ZEL! IT'S NOT REMOVING THE PARASITE, IT'S TAKING EVERYTHING ELSE! I CAN SEE IT! GET OUT OF THERE!" I roared, stepping forward.
"Ah… ah…! I can feel my… head… splitting… brain… burning…! GYAAAAH!" Lae'zel rolled off of the table, the psionic bubble snapping with the force of her escape.
The zaith'isk recoiled from the backlash as I snapped her protection back into place. The parasitic apparatus shuddered, shattered, and exploded in a wave of heat and chitin.
"SHKA'KETH! My life's work, ruined!" The scientist rushed to the remains of the zaith'isk, hovering over the wreckage. "And she lives. Along with the parasite." She turned with a burning gaze on Lae'zel.
"Was that what it was supposed to do?" I asked softly. "Take her memories, her life? I thought it was meant to heal her." I stepped forward. Fury danced in my veins.
"It was to grant purity, istik, not that you would under-"
I raised a hand, and her eyes clouded. I gently gripped her chin and got to work. It wouldn't take much- a few minutes. Certainty that Lae'zel survived due to her own merits, and the zaith'isk destroyed because of the parasite. The parasite shriveling due to an interaction with the apparatus, and Lae'zel being all that was left. Her being the only infected.
I let the scientist go. "Let's head out." I turned on my heel.
Wyll narrowed his eye at me. "What did you do?"
"Modify Memory. It's a bardic spell, but one I picked up. I managed to get around singing the whole time by silencing the spell." I looked at the group.
"She wasn't going to let us go, was she." Shadowheart was unsurprised.
"Don't fancy being on the slab again, thanks." Karlach's hand twitched, aborting a grab for Toasty.
Lae'zel stared at the wreckage, face a picture of torment. "No. No! It was mine! My right! I have been faithful, I should be pure!" Her hands spasmed. "It must have been sabotaged," she whispered.
I gave Creccoth an uncertain look.
Lae'zel let out a long breath. "We must see the kith'rak in charge of the Creche. They must be informed." She hesitated. "You saved me."
"Um." I blinked. "Yes?"
Lae'zel nodded once. "Chraith'kan zarn. May your enemies know agony."
I glanced at Wyll, who seemed as put off as me. "Uh. You too?"
The scientist finally began to move, if sluggishly.
"That is our cue to leave." Creccoth put a hand on my back. "We have one more place to go."
"Yes. The kith'rak and inquisitor await. If we cannot find purity, perhaps we can at least find answers here." Lae'zel breathed deeply, centering herself. Or, as I noticed a twitch of her eye, attempting to.
"Dunno about that." Karlach added her two copper as we made our way. "The whole kill-on-sight thing is a bit of a concern. And the cure turning out to be murder. What else can we expect?"
Lae'zel didn't answer.
Shadowheart looked at me. I bit my lip, but nodded.
If I had to bring this place down, I would. It'd probably break something in my budding connection with Lae'zel, but I would.
She turned her attention back to the front.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Lae'zel
You kneel. The air in the chamber is thick with potential, with power. Your neck cranes upward, looking upon your Queen with all due awe.
Thankfully, your allies have all knelt as well.
"Lae'zel of Creche K'liir. You have come far."
Your breath catches in your chest. "My queen. You know me."
"Indeed. You and your august company. Heretic Scholar, how came you to aid this daughter of Gith?"
For a moment, terror pierces your heart. She knows Torius, or knows of him.
"My god bade me seek the artifact which you now hold, your grace. His second command was to follow my desires. I wished to aid her, so I did. No more, no less. Her power and capability proved it a wise decision." Torius holds her gaze evenly. There is no sign of fell magic or subterfuge, but you cannot be sure.
He has launched multiple spells without gesture or word, and is the greatest threat in the Creche by far. Once you would have never considered it. Now, having seen the village swallowed in ash, having seen the country held in winter – deep in your heart of hearts, you are uncertain who would emerge in a clash of single combat.
"And where did you find the weapon?"
"In the possession of an amnesiac escapee from the illithid. I could assume that they were the ones who initially took it." Torius does not lie, but neither does he tell the truth.
If your Queen notices, then she is gracious and lets it be. "Just so." She looks at your companions. "Istik. Are you ally, or are you thief?" She asks… Creccoth?
Ah. He too is amnesiac, in possession of even fewer memories than Shadowheart. Of course she would turn to him.
"I did not steal the weapon, but I am returning it." Creccoth makes eye contact with Vlaakith the Undying.
Your Queen rises. "I know your kind. You will go far for glory. You will do more, and be justly rewarded – or refuse, and be punished accordingly."
"Agree!" you urge. "Refuse, and know my fury!"
"What would you have us do?" Torius asks. His eyes are calm. "So long as it does not contradict my mandates, I am willing to lend my aid." His tone is even, polite. It sends chills down your spine.
Your Queen… hesitates. Her gaze slides to him. After a moment, you realize: she is sizing him up. Determining if he is a threat to her.
Finally, she decides.
"The weapon has been corrupted. It is our last defense against a return of the Illithid Empire, a realized Grand Design. There is one within who has tarnished its purpose."
You stand at attention, faintly aware of your companions watching warily.
"You are to enter it… AND KILL HIM." Her smile is fierce, her beauty unmatched.
"My queen…!" You give an aborted half-bow. "I shall slay whoever has perverted the weapon, this I swear!"
"A worthy answer. Purification may yet be within your grasp. Do this, and be purified. Do this, and YOU SHALL ASCEND!"
"Ascension…!" It is more than you could consider, given your youth. So early! "An honor given, a burden borne. Your will be done, my queen."
With a gesture, Vlaakith sets the weapon on the planecaster. The weapon blooms like a spiked flower, the shell scattering and revealing light.
And as you fall towards it, Torius takes your hand-and the world turns to stars.
Content Notes: Githyanki Stuff. Things happening in the Creche, Vlaakith Gaslight Gatekeep Girlbossing per usual. Torius happens to somebody, but just the once.
_______________________________________________________
"I must speak with-"
"Sh-sh-shh. Such a familiar tone. Were I not merciful, I would cut the skin clean from your meat." The male githyanki held up a hand in a gesture that would be placating in any other circumstance. "Yet you are not bleeding – for I am nothing if not merciful."
I looked at Lae'zel, hands loosely at my sides. Out of the corner of my eye, the red dragon watched me with intent. Wait… those scars on his chest…
Lae'zel bowed her head.
"Your name, child."
"Lae'zel."
"'Lae'zel'," he parroted. "A proud name. Regal, even. You will call me jhe'stil kith'rak."
"Voss, knight supreme," Lae'zel breathed. "The queen's silver, the queen's sword."
Okay, he's important, but who is that drago- Oh. Uh oh.
I grimaced.
"Have you something to say, istik?" Voss' attention snapped to me.
Creccoth looked down at me. We'd made a small group, leaving the rest in reserve. Alfira and Shadowheart hovered nearby.
Lae'zel glared at me. "Your might is respected, Torius. Do not set it against my people."
The dragon's gaze sharpened. Recognition.
"Mmmmight be a little late for that. Hey, Qudenos."
Voss narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Lae'zel's widened. "What?"
"Please tell me you didn't fight the dragon," Shadowheart whispered.
Qudenos lumbered forth, the rest of the Githyanki patrol scrambling to give him space. "Torius Ancast. You are the same as when you laid us low." His voice was a low rumble, the echo of a mountain's innards. His head hung over us, our entire group well within range of his flames.
"Well, the only change you seem to have had is that you healed up from where I let you live." I planted my hands on my hips. "I guess the Astral and the Archives are similar in that respect."
The dragon gave a rumbling chuckle. "Indeed. Voss- do not antagonize him. Too much rides on us to die a foolish death." He changed to Draconic for his words to the Gith, one eye on me.
The 'Queen's Silver' gave me a searching look. Slowly, an expression of awe dawned. "You… you are one of the five who brought down Tiamat in full, driving her to Avernus. The Silverlight's Blade, the Dawnbringer's Song, the Mistress of Malbolge, Mystryl's only Chosen – and the Heretic That Shook The Skies."
Alfira looked at me with wide eyes. I scratched my neck. "Haven't heard that one in a while."
"What business do you have with us, Heretic Scholar?" Voss folded his arms, fully dismissing Lae'zel.
She bristled.
"Oh, Lord Jergal let me out for a walk. My friend Lae'zel is the one who wanted to speak to you, actually." I smiled brightly. "In fact, I gifted her the armor I once made for 'the Silverlight's Blade'."
Voss turned his head to look at Lae'zel.
She saluted him with a severe look. "Jhe'stil kith'rak, we seek purification. Barring some members of our group, we have been infected with ghaik parasites."
One of the Githyanki immediately reached for her blade.
"I halted any potential transformation. They're enchanted by Netherese magic. If they weren't, I could simply remove the parasites myself. As they are, I used a device of my own devising to invoke Mind Blank on the infected." I gave the woman a flat look. "If they pose a threat, it's only to people idiot enough to draw arms against them."
She bared her teeth, and pulled it out.
"Baretha!" Voss barked, authority in every inch of his body.
I rolled my eyes. "Stupid. Lae'zel, does she matter?"
Baretha charged.
Lae'zel's lip curled. "She has disobeyed orders from the kith'rak. No."
I shrugged and pointed at her. "Alright. Bye."
She rasped once, stumbling as the moisture was ripped from her body. Pale skin took the texture of old parchment, eyes yellowed, lips cracked. She took another step. She fell.
With a sickening crack her ear snapped in two bloodlessly. Baretha did not move.
I looked at Voss with a sunny smile. "So! About that… what was it, Lae'zel?"
"Zaith'isk." She gave a grim stare.
"Right, that. She says that it should succeed where I failed. Because Vlaakith or something."
The Githyanki patrol bristled, but Qudenos rumbled threateningly.
"He is every inch her equal, if not superior. If she faced him alone, only her workings to his – he would survive. She may not."
Voss' eyes widened, clearly the only one besides myself party to what probably amounted to heresy.
"Vlaakith's light will cleanse us. We merely require a Creche." Lae'zel gave me a frown. "Do not be so flippant in regards to the Undying Queen."
I shrugged. "I'll try."
Creccoth placed a hand on my head. "Try harder." He looked to Voss. "Lae'zel said that as we traveled with her, we would be given the same assistance that she would. Is this true?"
Voss gave me a conflicted look, then turned to Creccoth. "This is unprecedented. By all rights I should put the lot of you down for your own good. However…" He looked to his companion.
Qudenos nodded. "If he says he has halted the transformation, then he has no reason to lie. I have seen his works. My kin, red and otherwise, formed an honor guard for our Queen. He and the moonlit one were the only to make it past our ranks. She felled one head. Alone, he crushed four." He looked to me. "He is a worthy opponent, strong." His nostrils flared, and his gaze trailed to Creccoth.
"And spoken for," Creccoth rumbled in their shared language, moving his arm around my shoulders. Oh. He probably heard all that too.
"You are in luck, Lae'zel. A Creche is within these mountains." Voss pointed down a nearby path. "In a temple formerly dedicated to Lathander sits Creche Y'llek."
My eyebrows slowly rose. That was a name I hadn't heard in a while. "Lathander? Aspect of Amaunator?"
"No. The two are distinct entities." Shadowheart gave me a sidelong look.
"Oh. Well, time for more awkward then."
"...why?" Alfira asked hesitantly.
"I miiiight have hit on him once when I was like, fifteen."
Voss' expression became a thousand-yard stare. He slowly turned to Qudenos.
"He remains our best hope for change."
"Jhe'stil kith'rak, do not be deceived by his demeanor. His power is undeniable." Lae'zel gestured at Baretha's corpse.
Baretha crumbled a little bit more.
"I begin to see why Tootsie is so insistent on keeping you in check," Shadowheart drawled, a pained look on her face.
The Githyanki patrol began to look deeply uncomfortable.
"...Tootsie?" Voss whispered.
I perked up. "My Celestial Dire Honey Badger!"
"Oi."
Voss slowly looked down and to the right, away from his dragon.
Tootsie stared back at him, pink bow blinding against her silver fur. "How's tricks."
"She too is unchanged." Despite his reptilian visage, my experience with Creccoth told me that Qudenos was enjoying every moment of Voss' non-lethal mental break.
"...I see." Voss shook himself once. "We search for an artifact on behalf of our queen. Child, report to the Creche and receive further instruction." He gave me a severe look. "We believe it was on the ghaik vessel, and search these lands for the weapon."
"What did it look like?" Alfira asked curiously.
"A spined polyhedron, marked in the sacred text of our people. I do not expect an istik to recognize Tir'su, but the shape at least is distinctive." He stared her down.
Alfira cocked her head. "Hm. Can't say I've seen it. We'll have a look after your people have helped my friends."
Lae'zel looked over my head at Creccoth. Whatever she saw caused her to hold her tongue.
Voss moved towards Qudenos. Paused. "Go, and search for the artifact! Our business here is concluded," he ordered the patrol. "Sarth Baretha made her choice and charged a dragon's maw. Do not follow her example and die a useless death."
The proud warriors moved out, a spring in their step. If not for the extra burst of speed, one could never have told they were fleeing for their lives.
With that, Voss mounted Qudenos, and finally looked upon us once more. "Go to the Creche. We will meet again, I am sure." And the dragon took flight.
As we watched him fly away, there was one final question.
"Lathander? Really?" Shadowheart's tone dripped with scorn.
"I didn't see any statues to recognize him by, and he was hot!"
_____________________________________________________________________________
Creccoth
The closer you draw to Creche Y'llek, the more your scales tingle in anticipation. Without the worm, the possibility of your broken mind's repair becomes more real.
However, not all your companions are equally thrilled.
"Regardless of how our time at the Creche resolves, I still suggest taking the Underdark. The exit from there into the Shadow-Cursed Lands may be further from Moonrise, but the walking paths are better defined. This will bring us closer, but to a more ravaged area." Halsin, for example.
"The Gith are dangerous, and not all of them will be flying dragons that consider Torius a 'worthy opponent'." Or in a more dire turn, Shadowheart. "We can't trust that they will respect him as a threat."
Some are more enthusiastic.
"Cease your bleating. Purification is nigh, and we will be freed of these parasites." Lae'zel pauses. "However, I will still lend my might against this 'Absolute'. It is clearly a ghaik plot, and must be dismantled to its roots."
"And! If they decide to attack us, we still have an escape option." Astarion places a hand on Torius' shoulder. "One who can get us out, kill them all, or both. I prefer both!"
Lae'zel's countenance takes on a new expression – uncertainty. Thus far, Torius' power has been aimed at aiding and assisting her. The idea of him as an enemy makes her wary.
"That's an issue for later." You look behind yourself. The valley you had to cross on an unused skyway lies behind you, as well as that adventurer who desired a gith egg. That had been a rather delicate situation.
Torius slumps slightly.
"Dare I ask what the problem is?" Shadowheart asks. Despite the words, her tone is more even than callous.
"There's no way that lil' guy is gonna find us here." Torius gives you a piteous look.
"The what?" Gale's brow furrows.
"Ah. The owlbear cub." Godless gives a patient nod.
You hear a soft, curious trill. As one, your companions turn to look past what appears to be a recently cleaned skeleton.
A small furred and feathered body greets your sight, round with muscle and long of claw. Inquisitive yellow eyes gaze upward at you.
"My child."
Gale jolts, clearly remembering something. "Ah! Volo was meant to meet us at camp, but we were in Torius' manor! I hope he's quite alright."
Torius ignores this outburst, hand-feeding jerky to the startlingly compliant owlbear.
"Er." Gale looks around for any form of support.
"Well, Volo made it out alright – else we would have seen him on our way out the goblin camp. Hopefully when we meet again he won't be in such dire straits?" Wyll offers.
Minthara narrows her eyes at them. "Whomst?"
"A bard barely worthy of the name," Alfira mutters. "Brass dragon bringing up the rear of a goblin patrol my arse."
"...even with limited exposure to true dragons, I am still aware that metallic wyrms have no love for goblinkind."
"It would be a push for a chromatic dragon as well." Lae'zel and Minthara exchange a dour look.
Torius ignores them, fixated on preening the little cub. It coos at him in contentment. "Alright, little fella. In you go!" With a gesture, a familiar portal of light opens. "There are friends in there – they aren't food. But if you behave, Miss Tara will help you get food. Alright?"
The cub chirps happily, somehow understanding his words.
"I'm glad you approve; there are many nice-smelling plants in there. The garden's quite safe and has plenty of space to run."
With that, the owlbear cub wanders into the demiplane and the ring of light closes.
Torius stands, brushing his knees. "Right, sorry about that. Did I miss anything important?"
"Well-" Gale begins.
"Not particularly," Astarion interrupts with an insincere smile.
Gale's expression immediately drops to a scowl, and you decide the time to interject has arrived.
"It might be to our advantage to divide our forces – leave a majority as backup in case things go sour." You look to Lae'zel. "No offense to you, but your esteemed kith'rak didn't inspire confidence in equitable treatment until his steed recognized Torius and shut down any confrontation."
Lae'zel's eyes lower. "You speak truth, Creccoth. He was more than prepared to slaughter us all, or give the order. Only Torius' reputation kept the peace."
"Maybe Glasya has a point about that…" Torius mutters, loud enough to be heard.
"Being feared is all well and good, but 'tis better to be loved. Above all else, you must avoid being hated." Wyll cuts in with gentle gestures. "A reputation is a two-edged blade. It can inspire others to aid you as well as fear you. But if you do not take care, it can inspire them to attack you on sight, for their own safety."
Torius tilts his head, visibly internalizing Wyll's advice. "Noted."
"Then who should go?" Halsin asks, adding his voice.
"We should, barring Torius, keep to the infected for our initial group. I would keep you, Godless, and Alfira in reserve." You pause, considering. "Of course, Lae'zel and myself are also required."
Lae'zel nods, mollified.
"...maybe we can get answers about that prison." Torius looks to Shadowheart. "Lae'zel said it has Tir'su on it, that's gith writing. Right?"
"Indeed." Lae'zel narrows her eyes at Shadowheart.
The cleric stiffens, clearly uncomfortable. "I… will admit to curiosity, but are you certain that is the wisest move?"
"Well, let's say the item was hypothetically stolen. The thieves are all dead, and you have no memory of how it all went down, right? Who's to say you aren't simply returning it where it belongs?" Alfira gives a small shrug.
Shadowheart's frown deepens. "Perhaps, but I am still sworn to deliver it to Baldur's Gate. That remains a sticking point in your pretty picture."
"True." Torius' eyelids lower in contemplation. "Hm."
"...the fiend Raphael has a design. It includes the artifact, it includes the ghaik parasites in our heads, and it includes us. We do not see all, nor know it. We must learn more." Lae'zel gives Shadowheart a considering look. "If it is a prisoner of my people, then an argument could be made for an alternative sentence – consignment to a Sharran cloister, perhaps."
Shadowheart blinks rapidly, clearly taken aback.
"You think they would go for it?" you ask.
"There is a possibility, but I do not trust my tongue to yield that result." Lae'zel's gaze is fixed on you. "As you said, you will be invaluable within the Creche."
You give a single nod. "Right. Myself, Lae'zel, Torius, and Shadowheart. Anyone else feeling lucky?"
Torius gives a quick glance over the group. "If we're limiting ourselves to 'tadpoled plus archivist', we have two divine casters, a sorcerer, and a fighter. Astarion is good at range but if this is a military station it'll be locked down too tight for stealth. I can wear a lot of hats, but we want someone who can mix distances and someone who can draw fire."
Wyll looks at Karlach. "Between my eldritch blasts and swordplay and your force, I think we might have been singled out."
"Could have, soldier," Karlach agrees with an easy smile. "It'll be on you and Lae'zel to smooth things over, but if all else fails we'll crack some heads."
Torius rolls his shoulders. "Tootsie? You'll be underground for the majority of the time. Check in periodically if you can."
The badger gives a nod.
"Ugh. I can't say I like being left behind on this, darlings." Astarion gives you a pout, but it barely conceals his concern. "It all sounds rather boring. Dreadful, really."
"We'll need you to get them in if things get loud," you say after a moment's thought. "I don't doubt that they'll lock the door behind us, to say the least."
Astarion sighs, but seems less than mollified. "Fine. Just don't whine to me when we inevitably have to get you out of there."
_____________________________________________________________________________
I peeked around the corner, Lae'zel's head above mine and the rest of the group behind us.
As soon as I did, I felt the subtle warmth of divine energies wash over me from higher up the monastery.
Rosymorn, the wind seemed to whisper to me. ...apparently I was getting tapped for a favor. Well. Alright.
"No, no, no! I'm not going in there!" Thwip! Thud.
I looked down at the cooling corpse of the halfling in black. I looked up and saw the Githyanki warriors herding two others into a wide doorway.
"Chk. The cultists have the Creche on high alert. Tread carefully." Lae'zel emerged from behind me.
I wandered over and flipped the dead woman onto her back. Around her neck was an amulet – an inverted triangle around a skull. The skull formed the palm of a hand.
The breeze stirred again, almost foreboding.
"Shadowheart, does this symbol mean anything to you?" I asked.
She came over, eyes narrow. She looked at it. "No, it doesn't. I remember seeing it in that camp, but otherwise? It's new."
"Hm." I thought about it. "What about as a composite?"
She looked at me. "What?"
"Like, there are clearly more gods than there were in Netheril. Could this be a combination of multiple symbols?"
Her lips thinned, and she looked again. "...the skull is consistent with Jergal, Myrkul, and Bhaal. Myrkul's symbol is a skull within an upright triangle, however. Bhaal's skull is surrounded by a circle of blood droplets in a sort of halo. The hand resembles the black hand of Bane, the tyrant." She shook her head. "I don't know what the context for this is, beyond the 'Absolute' the cult worships."
I narrowed my eyes. "...three 'Chosen', according to Minthara. Orin the Red, Ketheric Throm, and Enver Gortash."
"WHAT."
I looked up, eyes wide.
Karlach stormed over. "That- that bleeding wanker's a Chosen of this cult!? Oh, fuck him. Fuck them. I'm going to burn them to the ground."
I frowned, considering.
"Gortash? He's a minor politician back in Baldur's Gate," Wyll added. "No one of consideration, at least my father said years ago. Considered himself an inventor of sorts."
"I worked for him."
The connection formed, a careless comment from Glasya. "He's the one who sold you to Zariel. A Banite."
Karlach's shoulders dropped. "Shit. Shit. What the actual, bloody, hells." Her expression was distraught.
Creccoth put a hand on my shoulder. "Torius?" he prompted.
"I just thought – this symbol can't come from nothing; it needs meaning. And a skull means death. If my Lord was behind this, he wouldn't set me on it. It stood to reason that along with his domains, one or more of his inheritors – inadequate they may be – could have spun off of his symbol."
"And here we have an icon combining all three. And three Chosen for its cult – one for each of the Dead Three." Shadowheart met my eyes with dawning horror. "Oh hells."
I stood. Inhaled. Exhaled. "Well. That's for later. For now, we get your worms gone. After, we kill them all and shut their mind flayer fun down."
Wyll put a hand on Karlach's back. "And we will. If this cult is a plot by the Dead Three, then it threatens not only Baldur's Gate, but the entire Sword Coast. Possibly even Toril itself."
Lae'zel frowned, looking at the door to the Creche. "Chk. This was already infuriating when it was merely ghaik. Now these Faerun gods are involved."
Shadowheart shook her head. "Dark Lady preserve us."
I looked up at the sealed gate – held by an arcane lock I could easily dispel. Then I craned my neck and narrowed my eyes. "Hm."
"We cannot afford to separate," Lae'zel hissed, looming.
"So you wait here for ten minutes tops, and I go get whatever it is Lathander's nudging me at."
Shadowheart gave me a blank look. "Did you not say, not an hour prior, that your relationship with him was 'awkward'?" She placed a hand on her forehead. "And of course. Of course a god would reach out to another's Chosen while we're in his monastery. Naturally."
"I mean, insomuch as anyone would be awkward regarding an old crush. He didn't seem to hold it against me, thankfully."
"Ahh, yes. I'm more than familiar with the feeling." Wyll gave me a wry smile. "Go on, then. We'll keep for a short time."
I looked at Creccoth.
"Go. If they return, Lae'zel can speak on our behalf."
She jerked her head with a dour glare. "Be quick."
I reached up and adjusted my circlet- then flew. The feeling of wings sprouting from my back, the-
"Did he just turn into a bloody angel!?"
I landed quietly on the top of the monastery. Guided by faint breeze and shifting light and shadow, I made my way to some sort of glass picture set in the floor. It was damaged by the ravages of time – and, perhaps, the Githyanki repurposing the temple.
"I can't imagine the monks here left quietly," I murmured.
No, they didn't.
I looked up.
The roof was cracked, and sunlight solidified into a faint outline of a man barely older than me. You look well. He smiled wistfully.
"...you're flying quiet, then?" I asked.
I barely made out his firm nod. Barring a faint handful of exceptions, direct intervention by the majority of us has been forbidden by Ao. Jergal meant to act as a failsafe, returning life to your compatriots for a pittance of gold – amongst other small services. He was denied. Selune informed me that you would be free to act, and here you are.
I rubbed my elbows nervously. "Right. So, what would you ask of me?"
Even as a faint outline, I could make out his frown. An artifact of my clergy remains, hidden from the gith. I have no ill feelings toward the Githzerai nor the rebels of this sect, but they have killed my people – people who aided those in need. Were I capable of direct intervention, I would have activated the weapon on the roof and destroyed them. A youthful smile glimmered. But with you, I have options – and you will be compensated; this I swear.
I shuffled. "Lae'zel… hrm. If my suspicions are correct, then…"
The avatar tilted its head.
"Something is rotten with the Githyanki. If I can't get a parasite out, I don't know if they can either. If I can shake her faith enough, then I might be able to turn her against them. It would take… a lot."
Lathander's image contemplated my words. I have some knowledge of them. The majority of their saga happened on the astral, and they do not worship me. But this is still my temple, and one has a disc with contraband information. It speaks of a prince deposed and removed, all in exchange for Vlaakith's power. I too have seen the results of their 'purification', and believe that the attempt will begin the first crack.
"It's a heresy. And Qudenos- he wouldn't be content serving a lich." A series of thoughts flickered, chaining into each other. "At one point, Lae'zel mentioned to Creccoth ascension. A thousand-year tyrant wouldn't share power. Do you think…?"
Lathander made a sweeping gesture with his palms. I cannot say for certain. It would not surprise me, but you must confirm it yourself. Now, my request?
Even in my Solar form, I flushed. "Sorry."
His chuckle was like a note of birdsong on the breeze. Think nothing of it, young man. Now, some time after your seclusion I entered battle against a vile evil by the name of Sammaster. In that fight I took physical form, and despite my victory I bled. Three drops, held in amber. My clergy bound it to a mace, naming it what it was – 'Blood of Lathander'. A powerful weapon bearing my brightest light.
"Which would be used to operate that?" I pointed in the direction of the device I'd seen passing by – an amalgam of metal, crystal, and glass. Definitely meant to refract light into a weapon, but not that of the sun overhead.
Just so. It is hidden down a passage guarded by crystal and curio, within the innermost workings of the device. If taken without permission, it will loose what charge remains and bring the temple down. I would prefer you and yours escape and deal with Shar's pique.
"...you want us to have it. Keep it from the gith, and use it against the cult. Lathander, how dan-"
I cannot say. This was softer than his whispers. Had I the permission, I would gladly offer my aid as in days of old. But this world is different, and only your blood gives you what you have. He folded his arms. And on that too, I have tread the line on what may be shared. Only one god can answer more.
I sighed. "Fucking old men. Can't blame you, not really. So. What do I need to do?"
Battleaxe, mace, warhammer. Lathander's avatar pointed to three unoccupied altars. One for each Dawnmaster past. This will reveal the crest needed to authorize removal of my Blood. It will be a light in dark places, and you shall always carry the sun. Although, your Death Ward would amply do against the Nightsinger's fury as well.
"So it IS a necrosis!" I clicked my fingers.
Another chuckle. Bright lad. I will watch and bless you as I am able. Please- take care. He paused. After a moment, I realized he was hesitating. Sune, too, sends her regards. And seems to have taken an interest.
"Why- oh." I swallowed. "Creccoth."
A fascinating chance for a new dawn. Behind him is endless midnight and rot. But by his own will and your own aid – yes, he has a chance to start anew. Lathander clapped his hands soundlessly, barely stirring the air. My time here ends. Move quickly, move with purpose.
"I'll watch my step too, for good measure." With a click of my fingers, the named weapons fell onto their respective altars.
The sunlight flared mildly, illuminating a boyish grin as the god vanished.
I turned to see an alcove swing open, a four-pointed crest at rest within.
"...my blood?" I murmured. Not Selune. I lacked anything Aylin had (and oh that would put a very ugly spin on our attempted tryst). Maybe my mother was an arcanist of some sort? Or a Chosen? No, Mystryl had the one and she was my peer.
I picked up the Dawnmaster Crest and hid it in my robe. Immediately I felt its warmth.
"Well. Here's hoping that the Creche isn't as much of a disaster as that implied."
_____________________________________________________________________________
I bristled, fists clenched.
"Strange. A sa'varsh in Creche K'liir would never have wasted time on berating a recalcitrant student. He would have long been dead at the hands of his age-mates."
"Really? And this is encouraged?" Shadowheart shot me a dark look, laden with 'told-you-so's.
"It is needed. The culling of the weak, those unworthy to fight for Vlaakith. She is our eternal sun, our unending light. As an army, we are only as strong as our weakest – there is no place for hesitation, no room for mercy."
I glared at Lae'zel. "So what does it say that Voss and his compatriots would have killed you if I hadn't been there?"
Lae'zel jerked her head away. "Chk. Voss clearly has his own agenda, his own desires. Any other would have directed us here to the zaith'isk as fellow faithful."
I doubted that. It must have shown on my face, because Wyll stepped forward. "Well, as Astarion would put it, this place is locked down tighter than a patriar's purse. It might be for the best we chose the diplomatic route."
"Hm. The Creche is also strangely lenient. Not only with the rearing of the youth, but in terms of security. I would have expected us to be disarmed. Make no mistake, I am gladdened we retain our weapons – but it begs the question of why."
"They might be employing mercenaries to find the weapon. If they're that desperate for it, then maybe they decided to loosen their grip, if slightly." Creccoth held his chin in his hand.
"Soo. We stopped a kid from being speared, and we have an egg. Well, Lae'zel does." Karlach gestured at her.
Lae'zel glowered. "We will not be giving it to that kainyank."
"Too right. Esther can cope with it." Karlach nodded firmly.
We arrived at a doorway. "We are here." Lae'zel pushed it open.
I immediately felt my neck hair rise. This wasn't a medical laboratory. This was for experimentation.
The 'doctor' loomed over a sphere, some sort of magnifying device between her and the specimen. To her left was some organo-mechanical monstrosity.
I swallowed, tucking myself into Creccoth's side.
He looked down at me, at his surroundings, and briefly closed his eyes. He opened them and placed an arm around my shoulders.
"Ghustil-"
"Shh. A moment." She stood from her specimen.
"Am I not a child of Gith? Am I to be disregarded like an istik?"
"That is to be determined by the responses of the company you keep." Her gaze swept over us, and stopped. "And who are you?" Her eyes fixed on Creccoth, and I felt another chill. She meant harm.
The zaith'isk would be the start. That's what Lathander intuited.
"I would prefer Lae'zel speak for me," Creccoth demurred.
"Lae'zel? Very well then." The scientist's gaze turned to our gith companion. I rolled the air between my fingertips, watching closely. "What brings you to me, taking time I could use to research these?"
"We come for the zaith'isk, for purification – as Vlaakith said, her faithful are entitled when infected with-"
"Ghaik parasites? Fascinating." The scientist stared Lae'zel down. "And yet not a single sign of ceremorphosis. Nor are you showing signs like these cultists." She gestured behind her. "I have examined these larvae, but they're like nothing I've seen. I wonder, is your parasite special? Or perhaps the host… still, we will find out. Come."
I watched from the rear, eyes raking the strange device.
"This is the zaith'isk. Be glad, istik- few githyanki see it, and even fewer of your ilk."
It carried a strange energy, not magical. The mechanics were visible with the presence of an angling table for the subject to recline on, but the remainder looked like some sort of parasite. Almost like a tick. Organic, chitinous in some places and glossed with slime in others.
...wait. Non-magical, but energy – psionics? Could it be?
I balled my fists and looked at Shadowheart. She looked back, and I gave a sharp jerk of my head. Her eyes narrowed, and she gave a brief nod in response.
Wyll caught our exchange, and his lip curled but he said nothing. Karlach, Lae'zel, and Creccoth were in front of us.
"My destiny, my right." Lae'zel's eyes bored into us.
"Go on, Lae'zel." Creccoth nodded.
She kept looking at me.
I exhaled. "I don't have any experience with this kind of artifact. I'd need to see it in action to know its workings." I shrugged. "Your call."
"Of course you have no idea. And to gain insight into the workings of such a thing by mere observation- g'lyck." The ghustil shook her head with an amused smile. "Come, child. Let the zaith'isk ease your suffering."
Lae'zel moved onto the table, laying back. It reclined, and the organic aspect descended.
...I loosened the mind-shield's protection. Not wholly, but enough for the thing to do its work.
The thing's pincer-mandibles opened, lowered to either side of Lae'zel's head, and swung-! Only to halt and encase her head in a psionic sphere.
My eyes widened in shock as Lae'zel began to squirm, chanting something to shield against the pain.
"Yes, the verses! Recite them child, and let the zaith'isk do its work!"
Creccoth glanced at me, but I focused on Lae'zel. Detect Magic was slower to grasp psionics, but if I focused enough…
Ah. Ah. I saw it.
I grit my teeth. "No."
"What?" The scientist looked at me in confusion.
"LAE'ZEL! IT'S NOT REMOVING THE PARASITE, IT'S TAKING EVERYTHING ELSE! I CAN SEE IT! GET OUT OF THERE!" I roared, stepping forward.
"Ah… ah…! I can feel my… head… splitting… brain… burning…! GYAAAAH!" Lae'zel rolled off of the table, the psionic bubble snapping with the force of her escape.
The zaith'isk recoiled from the backlash as I snapped her protection back into place. The parasitic apparatus shuddered, shattered, and exploded in a wave of heat and chitin.
"SHKA'KETH! My life's work, ruined!" The scientist rushed to the remains of the zaith'isk, hovering over the wreckage. "And she lives. Along with the parasite." She turned with a burning gaze on Lae'zel.
"Was that what it was supposed to do?" I asked softly. "Take her memories, her life? I thought it was meant to heal her." I stepped forward. Fury danced in my veins.
"It was to grant purity, istik, not that you would under-"
I raised a hand, and her eyes clouded. I gently gripped her chin and got to work. It wouldn't take much- a few minutes. Certainty that Lae'zel survived due to her own merits, and the zaith'isk destroyed because of the parasite. The parasite shriveling due to an interaction with the apparatus, and Lae'zel being all that was left. Her being the only infected.
I let the scientist go. "Let's head out." I turned on my heel.
Wyll narrowed his eye at me. "What did you do?"
"Modify Memory. It's a bardic spell, but one I picked up. I managed to get around singing the whole time by silencing the spell." I looked at the group.
"She wasn't going to let us go, was she." Shadowheart was unsurprised.
"Don't fancy being on the slab again, thanks." Karlach's hand twitched, aborting a grab for Toasty.
Lae'zel stared at the wreckage, face a picture of torment. "No. No! It was mine! My right! I have been faithful, I should be pure!" Her hands spasmed. "It must have been sabotaged," she whispered.
I gave Creccoth an uncertain look.
Lae'zel let out a long breath. "We must see the kith'rak in charge of the Creche. They must be informed." She hesitated. "You saved me."
"Um." I blinked. "Yes?"
Lae'zel nodded once. "Chraith'kan zarn. May your enemies know agony."
I glanced at Wyll, who seemed as put off as me. "Uh. You too?"
The scientist finally began to move, if sluggishly.
"That is our cue to leave." Creccoth put a hand on my back. "We have one more place to go."
"Yes. The kith'rak and inquisitor await. If we cannot find purity, perhaps we can at least find answers here." Lae'zel breathed deeply, centering herself. Or, as I noticed a twitch of her eye, attempting to.
"Dunno about that." Karlach added her two copper as we made our way. "The whole kill-on-sight thing is a bit of a concern. And the cure turning out to be murder. What else can we expect?"
Lae'zel didn't answer.
Shadowheart looked at me. I bit my lip, but nodded.
If I had to bring this place down, I would. It'd probably break something in my budding connection with Lae'zel, but I would.
She turned her attention back to the front.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Lae'zel
You kneel. The air in the chamber is thick with potential, with power. Your neck cranes upward, looking upon your Queen with all due awe.
Thankfully, your allies have all knelt as well.
"Lae'zel of Creche K'liir. You have come far."
Your breath catches in your chest. "My queen. You know me."
"Indeed. You and your august company. Heretic Scholar, how came you to aid this daughter of Gith?"
For a moment, terror pierces your heart. She knows Torius, or knows of him.
"My god bade me seek the artifact which you now hold, your grace. His second command was to follow my desires. I wished to aid her, so I did. No more, no less. Her power and capability proved it a wise decision." Torius holds her gaze evenly. There is no sign of fell magic or subterfuge, but you cannot be sure.
He has launched multiple spells without gesture or word, and is the greatest threat in the Creche by far. Once you would have never considered it. Now, having seen the village swallowed in ash, having seen the country held in winter – deep in your heart of hearts, you are uncertain who would emerge in a clash of single combat.
"And where did you find the weapon?"
"In the possession of an amnesiac escapee from the illithid. I could assume that they were the ones who initially took it." Torius does not lie, but neither does he tell the truth.
If your Queen notices, then she is gracious and lets it be. "Just so." She looks at your companions. "Istik. Are you ally, or are you thief?" She asks… Creccoth?
Ah. He too is amnesiac, in possession of even fewer memories than Shadowheart. Of course she would turn to him.
"I did not steal the weapon, but I am returning it." Creccoth makes eye contact with Vlaakith the Undying.
Your Queen rises. "I know your kind. You will go far for glory. You will do more, and be justly rewarded – or refuse, and be punished accordingly."
"Agree!" you urge. "Refuse, and know my fury!"
"What would you have us do?" Torius asks. His eyes are calm. "So long as it does not contradict my mandates, I am willing to lend my aid." His tone is even, polite. It sends chills down your spine.
Your Queen… hesitates. Her gaze slides to him. After a moment, you realize: she is sizing him up. Determining if he is a threat to her.
Finally, she decides.
"The weapon has been corrupted. It is our last defense against a return of the Illithid Empire, a realized Grand Design. There is one within who has tarnished its purpose."
You stand at attention, faintly aware of your companions watching warily.
"You are to enter it… AND KILL HIM." Her smile is fierce, her beauty unmatched.
"My queen…!" You give an aborted half-bow. "I shall slay whoever has perverted the weapon, this I swear!"
"A worthy answer. Purification may yet be within your grasp. Do this, and be purified. Do this, and YOU SHALL ASCEND!"
"Ascension…!" It is more than you could consider, given your youth. So early! "An honor given, a burden borne. Your will be done, my queen."
With a gesture, Vlaakith sets the weapon on the planecaster. The weapon blooms like a spiked flower, the shell scattering and revealing light.
And as you fall towards it, Torius takes your hand-and the world turns to stars.
- Location
- New Zealand
...Oh, the Emperor will be surprised.
Hm, I wonder if Torius could rescue the Prince this early on?
That would certainly change the story.
Hm, I wonder if Torius could rescue the Prince this early on?
That would certainly change the story.
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That was my intent, but then I came up with a reason and liked it better. It adds cohesion and I also love B plots. And C plots.
Seriously, love this story so much, and the moments of humor have me laughing aloud in delight.
Tome Fifteen: Wish Upon a Shooting Star
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Lae'zel and I landed in a warzone.
Githyanki struggled against intellect devourers, fighting with hands and feet against the little monsters. I didn't see any mind flayers, but if these were here then it was all but certain there was at least one.
"Chk. We've arrived at the right spot." Lae'zel drew her maul, glowering. "What is the weapon?"
I looked around. The other gith hadn't come at us, but were keeping their distance. But further in was a spectacle.
A gith man suspended between Avernian crystals, chains of energy suspending him within a shimmering psionic sphere. The sphere wasn't part of the prison, and neither was the orange glow in his eyes. He wore a silverish muzzle, head back either in strain or agony. Possibly both.
And I felt the strange sensation emanating from him – a form of telepathy that indicated he could do more with it than communication.
"Him, I think. He's-" I focused. "Dominated. If I bring him under my protection, it won't free him from the chains but at least it will help."
A githyanki crashed next to me. "You seek to help him?" she asked with a dark look.
"He's suffering. I don't need a reason more than that." I looked at Lae'zel. "He's a victim of a mind flayer, Lae'zel."
Her lip curled. "Imprisoned twice over. Pah. The ghaik is clearly what Vlaakith demanded we destroy."
The monk's eyes darted to me.
"The most likely target," I agreed, inclining my head towards the newcomer.
She relaxed. "I am Prelate Lir'i'c. Your assistance is welcomed."
I turned, and pressed my finger to my thumb. "Let's shine some light on the subject. Chained Moon Bolt."
I clicked my fingers.
A torrent of jagged silver energy lashed into the nearest Intellect Devourer, and sprang to another. And another. More and more, lashing through and sapping them of physical might with the moon's radiance.
"Tsk'va," Lir'i'c breathed. She looked at me. "That was the entire wave. More will come, once the ghaik finishes with the other interlopers."
I stiffened. "What?"
"Free the prisoner, then we race to our allies!" Lae'zel urged, eyes narrow.
"Those chains- even if I disjoin them, they're quasi-divine by diabolism, the eruption-"
"From the GHAIK," she stressed, rolling her eyes.
I slapped my forehead. "Doy. Right!" I pulled out the Mind-Shielder. "One more Mind Blank, coming up!"
And with a single shake, I ensnared who I deeply suspected was the one person Vlaakith feared most.
He blinked slowly, eyes returning to a solid brown.
"Lir'i'c, which way did you see the flayer go?" I asked, feeling my blood begin to rush.
She pointed, and I scooped Lae'zel into my arms – right as I became a Solar.
"We fly," I rumbled. With a single flap of my wings, I launched through stellar rubble. But not before something touched my mind.
Why?
Because you needed help. Why else?
...ha. How very strange. Very well, Mla'ghir. Return once you dispatch the illithid. ...if there is a way to extract knowledge, use it. Whatever its agenda, I fear it. I shall inform my honor guard of all developments herein.
I ducked my head, a faint aura rapidly approaching. Got it.
"The prisoner is an incredibly powerful telepath. He might be able to interfere with hive mind communication – a natural enemy of illithids."
"Tsk'va! If we lost him to the ghaik, then any rise of the Grand Design could not be stopped. We have done the work of heroes this day."
There was no point arguing. After all, she was right – even if she didn't know the entire story. ...neither did I.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Creccoth
"So you see, I am an ally. By drawing on this power I stole from Vlaakith, I can protect you while permitting the cult to identify you as their own." The strange drow spreads her palms. "I will protect you as you embrace your poten-"
"HTAK'A!" Lae'zel falls on the stranger, maul leading her plummet. The lightning-wreathed metal impacts the drow's shoulder, and the illusion shatters.
The mind flayer stares back as it reels, pink eyes wide and clutching a shoulder dripping silver.
Torius emerges from a whirl of wings, eyes blazing. "By all means. Do go on. After all, abusing a captive gith must have quite the reason." Frost drips from his hand, and Last Goodnight sprouts from his palm. With a shake of his sleeve, something you cannot see falls into his other hand.
The illithid raises a claw. Wait! I am not your enemy. I stand against the Absolute!
"What is it."
Something complex. I cannot say.
"Can't, or won't?" Torius stared it down.
You raised a hand. "Torius, Vlaakith intends to kill us regardless of if we kill it. Perhaps-"
"No. Mindflayers lie. It's what they do." Torius raises his sword, head glowing a faint green from his circlet. "They lie, manipulate, omit. Enthrall. The only beings they see as equal are other illithids."
I am approaching you openly, as an equal. Do not do this.
Lae'zel bristles, and you can tell the end is near. "You approached in an illusion, attempting to seduce them! Liar!"
"How will we learn what we need to from him if he dies?" you ask, trying once more to defuse the situation.
Shadowheart jerks, and you realize she has come to an epiphany before yourself – but you cannot figure out what it is. "Torius, wait. Think about what you're doing."
"Soldier," Karlach warns, spreading her hands.
"Well!" Torius chirps, a vicious smile splitting his face.
The illithid turns to Torius, a frightening chitter coming from its hidden beak. No. Frightened. It may not have emotions you understand, but it still desires to live.
"Perhaps it can tell us a story!"
And with a single thrust, you feel history change.
As the ice spreads along its body from the point of impact, as the illithid turns into a frozen statue, Torius opens his palm.
And a wave of silver-violet flees the illithid corpse, impacting the shard of chardalyn.
_____________________________________________________________________________
"...that was-"
"Yes." Jergal watches, unmoved.
"How likely are they to defeat it without an illithid?"
Jergal scoffs at Kelemvor. "He can easily shapechange into one for the duration needed. No, what you must consider is this:"
The Death Lord looks at his seneschal, a line of tension in his body.
"What will this mean for the three imbeciles I empowered so long ago? Once he fully comes into his power, he alone will be able to perform the rites required."
"For what, Jergal?"
The Final Scribe turns, gazing at his lord's former lover, the goddess of Magic.
"To return what I gave, of course. To change it, to permanently alter the balance."
"Ao won't accept it," Mystra warned. "I'm uncertain if even we should."
We must. Selune hovers in the background, the one who called this convocation.
"Thou didst inherit your predecessor's memories, as she did hers. Thou knowst what must be done." Jergal inclines his head. "Lathander set it in motion."
Mystra curls her lip. "I shall reach out to Elminster and give Gale his alternative to the star-touched's stopgap. However, I will refrain from asking him to sacrifice himself."
We come closer to Shar's reckoning. Two lives she has ruined, and with this the child may well ruin her.
"If nothing else, her plots will be thoroughly derailed." Kelemvor crosses his arms. "Jergal. Once Thorm is dead, approach them. Be a divine guide to him. He has served his time in darkness."
Jergal gives a slow blink. "Indeed." As though such were not his idea before.
For two thousand years, he has had one worshipper. One prayer, who prayed not to his doctrine but an interpretation. And so the Grim Seneschal had changed. Once evil, once malevolent, he had become this.
He had observed Myrkul. Observed Cyric. Now was the time. Now was the moment to bring his plans to fruition.
He was so very tired of being the villain. He had no desire to be a hero. He simply wished to perform his duties in peace.
This was the path. The path to Selune regaining her chosen. The path to erasing the last of Karsus' influence. The path to neatly thwarting the Dead Three one last time.
Neither early nor late, but begun by Ao's denial of necessity.
"Fate spins along, as it should."
_____________________________________________________________________________
I admired the shard and returned it to my workshop, sending it through a series of portals. I would complete the ink tonight.
"That-" Wyll began, frowning.
"Was an illithid. By nature, they cannot coexist with sentient beings. Their diet is mandatory, and unlike Astarion they cannot substitute animals. Further, they are abusers, groomers, and tyrants by design." I feel no remorse. "With that thing's soul in hand, I can turn it into a tome – and gain knowledge of its life. Before the transformation, after, and all it knew. Beyond that, it will serve to increase my power, which I will need to deal with the Dead Three." I returned my sword from whence it came, and folded my arms.
Wyll stared me down. "And what of us? Are we to stand to the side, allowing you to do this on our behalf? Are we of no aid in this battle?"
"Soldier, you didn't have to do that. Kill it, maybe, sure. But that's a bridge far for just trying to jerk our chains."
I balled my fists. "It wanted you to change."
Shadowheart's eyes widened as she was the only one to get it.
"What?" Creccoth stepped forward, concern on his face.
"Lae'zel's growing into her strength. Karlach's free of the Hells. Wyll could be, and he might get to reconcile with his father, needs to save him. Gale might get the orb out. Astarion could be free of Cazador. You could be free of- the thing." I gesture at him. "And he wanted you all to throw it in the bin. Become illithid, because your struggles, your desire to be more as you are, meant nothing to him."
Lae'zel's gaze softened. "...you struck out of care."
I shifted. "And… you're my friends. And more than friends." I looked at Creccoth. "I don't want to lose you," I whispered.
Wyll slumped. "Lad." He walked forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It will take more than a pretty lie to get most of us to take what he offers. We've been burned by devils' offers before, most of us." He dropped his hand, but his anger had all but gone.
"Or we simply have good sense," Shadowheart added dryly. She paused, then smirked. "Besides. I've grown used to Karlach and the rest of you. It will take a bit more than that to get rid of me."
"Oooh. I come first, eh?" Karlach gave a goofy grin.
Shadowheart blushed. "Well. Erm."
Lae'zel rolled her eyes. "Chk. Our alliance is not so fragile a simple ghaik can break it. Still, there is a use. It clearly wished to retain the upper hand by holding back information. With this, we can proceed as one."
You succeeded. The remaining devourers have fallen into the astral sea. But you must leave. Vlaakith has left a kill squad behind – the mind flayer was not her target.
No. You were… Orpheus. That was the name on the disc the young gith passed me.
You know me. The voice seemed pleased.
Third hand. I won't say you're lying, but if Vlaakith has done this after Lae'zel has been nothing but loyal-
You are as much threat to her as I. Should your god permit, I look forward to our alliance with a glad heart. Go, escape. I felt a gentle nudge in my head, and I opened a memory that I had let float to the surface. Though perhaps with a touch less haste, Orpheus corrected with directed interest at the Blood of Lathander.
I'll get you out of there. It'll take time, but-
I know. One recognizes a kindred spirit, after all. His amusement was palpable.
I exhaled. "The prisoner thinks there's a kill squad out there. Something about Vlaakith wanting us dead now too."
"What!?" Lae'zel whirled on me.
"I have no idea why. We killed the thing!" I pointed at the illithid-shaped husk of frost.
"Chk. We will emerge, and see what has transpired."
"And if it's true, we crush 'em." Karlach jerked her head at the lingering portal.
Creccoth's hands twitched. "...I will not forget such treachery if true. I'll pen their life-ends in blood with my own two hands."
Shadowheart gave him a wary look. "Down, boy."
Wyll simply rolled his shoulders. "Well. Ladies, gentlemen- shall we dance?"
Creccoth turned on his heel, leaving a hand by his side. "Let's."
I took it, and followed him into the light.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Lae'zel
You emerge, and two things take your notice. First, Vlaakith's projection is nowhere to be seen. This is unsurprising; she has given mandate and can receive word from one of your people.
What sets your instincts on edge is the positioning of said people – ardents on a raised platform to your left flank. The inquisitor stands before you with two gish, forming a line between you and the exit. The raider takes the high ground, and the warrior stays near him.
"We return victorious," you pronounce. "The ghaik threat is dead, by the hands of myself and the Heretic Scholar." The title rolls off your tongue, and you feel pride. You may not have slain the illithid personally, but if it was weak enough to fall to the secondary power of Torius' blade, then it was hardly worth your time. Or, perhaps, merely unlucky- in which case you were sure to find more to slaughter regardless.
"Lae'zel. You have been sentenced to death by our Queen." W'wargaz is placid, as though he had not just spoken utter madness. "You will be known as hshar'lak, for all our people to kill on sight."
"I'm sorry, what?" Karlach steps forward, hand on her blade's hilt. "Your queen said there was something foul in that prism, and we found and killed it. That is literally what she asked us to do! Why the fuck would Lae'zel have to die for it?"
"Silence, istik. You too will fall to our blades."
You grit your teeth. You do not know how you displeased Vlaakith, you cannot fathom it. "The ghaik is slain! Explain, Ch'r'ai!" And worse, the companions who have trod the same path as you, trusted in you for salvation, have followed you here. First the zaith'isk, and now this.
"There is nothing to explain to hshar'lak." He draws his blade. "Ch'mar, zal'a Vlaakith!"
There is no time for Creccoth's silver tongue, nor Wyll's diplomacy. Your people are upon you.
"...fuck this." Torius' quiet proclamation chills your marrow. The air stills, and as one the enemies freeze. A faint aura of rose encircles each one.
"Erm. Is that you?" Shadowheart looks at Torius, concerned.
"Hold Person, Mass." Torius slowly steps forward. His eyes blaze, illuminated from within.
Creccoth reaches for him, stops him with a touch to his shoulder. "Torius."
"...I could tear the knowledge from his mind. Glasya gave me a spell back when we traveled together – but it's foul. I don't shy from evil magic, you know it. But the name is very much what it is." He looks to you. "I could try to find out why."
"Would he know?" Wyll asks, stepping forward. "I wonder if he would. Githyanki seem to be rather… devoted to Vlaakith. She may have just given the order."
"Do your worst," the inquisitor grits out. "The Creche, all our people know- you will never again know peace, istik."
You decide. "Kill them. If they will not listen to reason, we shall repay them in blood." You draw the maul given to you by Torius, ready to crush skulls. It is not a silver sword, but it will serve until you can claim your own.
This cannot be as it seems. It must not be.
An ardent breaks free, only for Wyll to snap a pair of green-black blasts into his chest. The warlock charges, blade drawn to ensure he stays down- only to nearly duck a psychic bolt from the other ardent.
Shadowheart's reaction is to engulf the gith in brilliant light, and the scent of sizzling flesh hits your nostrils.
The others are held fast, and you see Creccoth raise a hand wreathed in lightning. The ensuing torrent catches the inquisitor and raider, but it seems that the inquisitor takes the brunt. He does not fall, but the blackened flesh shows the blow was telling.
Finally, your feet move you to your target and you bring the maul sideways in a cross-slam that catches W'wargaz' ribs with a crunch. He rocks to the side, and the way his limbs loosen shows he has been freed of Torius' binding. Your follow-up is directly to his head, but you miss and bring the head of your weapon down on the inquisitor's collarbone, sending a gout of blood from the shattering impact. Unable to parry, he drops his blade, raising a hand to his head.
Flames rush by you as Karlach lunges at the raider, the one least harmed – and with a vicious roar her blade ignites them both into a pillar of incandescence, disrupted by slashing blaze. The raider's crossbow is all that remains as ash drifts on the flow of air in the sanctum.
Creccoth lands by you, somehow capable of flight – and with a ghoulish glow on his hand he latches onto W'wargaz' head.
The gith inquisitor lets out a bloody rasp as his skin sloughs off his skull, eyes melting into useless pulp from Creccoth's spell.
You chance a look behind, and Wyll drops the remaining ardent off of the platform, pulling his rapier free.
The entire slaughter took perhaps half a minute. You turn your head and see no sign of Torius.
"And we have lost sight of the manchild. Glorious." Shadowheart gestures tiredly.
"More child than man, Shadowheart. He is our youngest," Wyll responds. It sounds somewhat similar to a reprimand, but is entirely too kind to be one.
"Hard disagree, Soldier. Anyone who gets fearless leader going bowlegged for the first stretch of our daily constitutional definitely qualifies as a 'man'." Karlach shoots Creccoth a grin.
You look at him, blinking in surprise.
Creccoth is unabashed. "He's enthusiastic, but inexperienced. Trainable, though."
To your gratification, you are not the only one rendered speechless – Shadowheart's jaw drops in shock.
"And to his credit, the pain was very mild and he healed it when he noticed." Creccoth shrugs without a care.
Wyll places a hand on his forehead. "Thank you for oversharing, Creccoth. Now. Where do you think Torius went off to-"
"Back!" Torius enters the chamber from what appears to be a hidden passage at a light jog, Tootsie on his heels. A mace is strapped to his back, emitting a halo of light.
"What is that." Shadowheart stares at it suspiciously.
"The thing Lathander asked me to get so the Githyanki can't use it. Also our ticket through the Shadowlands without turning into undead." Torius pauses. "Well, a ticket. Apparently I can do a bit more. Still!" He looks at you all. "So this whole place has gone hostile, huh."
"Yes. To a one, they will all clamor for our blood on leaving this place."
Torius slowly nods. "Right. So I'll send you guys ahead and catch up once I've handled it. I have permission from the old owner."
"The monks?" you ask, frowning. "They are long dead."
"He means the god this place is still consecrated to, I wager." Shadowheart frowns. "And what do you intend to do?"
"You'll see! From a safe distance." Torius' expression takes on that same vicious cast as when he slaughtered the illithid who dared to try and deceive you all. "I promise, it will be quite the spectacle."
Creccoth gives you an inscrutable look. "Lae'zel?"
"...it does not make sense." Now that the rush of battle is over and danger is pushed back momentarily, the enormity of what has transpired lies upon you. "We did as ordered. Hshar'lak – a betrayer among betrayers, to have one's name stricken from the slates of our people. The closest translation you have is 'unforgivable'." You shake your head. "No, it must be a test. Vlaakith is testing me, testing my mettle."
"It didn't sound that way. Not to me." Torius folds his arms. "Something about her seemed… off. She was desperate for whatever was in the prism to be destroyed. If it wasn't the mind flayer, it was the prisoner – who as we saw-"
"Tsk'va! That is madness. If he has the power to blunt the mightiest weapon of the ghaik, then killing him serves no purpose. He is muzzled, chained. No true threat to Vlaakith." You close your eyes. "I must think – but this Creche will come after us if we leave."
"Right. We can discuss it later." Creccoth looks to Torius. "What do you intend to do?"
Torius simply smiles. "I have it on good authority that outside this room, anyone I'd have qualms about killing has left the Creche. So you leave, and Tootsie and I set off a little something. I'm sure Astarion and Minthara will enjoy the show from afar."
"That is not reassuring. I lack the words for how not reassuring that is." Shadowheart gives Torius a disgruntled look.
You gaze upon him and give a single nod. "Send us. There is no more for me here."
With a gesture from the archivist, the world blends into a rush of color – and you see the remainder of your compatriots around a small campfire as dusk begins to claim the sky.
"Well?" Minthara gives you an imperious glare.
"Chk. Much has transpired." You look to Creccoth. "My patience thins. You will explain it."
Creccoth gives a firm nod. "Go rest."
But before he can say anything, there is a rumble in the distance.
You look, and well away you see the monastery above the Creche. The rumble is like thunder, but you feel it beneath you. The breeze moves, and you squint to see if anything new has come.
"What in the hells is going on? Where's Torius? Creccoth!?" Astarion lurches forward, eyes wide.
"He said he was handling the Creche." Karlach shrugs, and looks alongside you. "Oh. Hells."
Cracks of light show along the mountainside. Whatever has begun cannot be stopped.
A batlike shape lunges from the monastery into the air, and you see a flicker of silver clinging to a massive dark form.
"That's a Pit Fiend! And Tootsie's riding the shoulders like a bloody patriar's stole!" Karlach holds a hand over her eyes. "Shit, can anyone make out what's happening?"
"The very earth roars with indignance. Torius has loosed a great power there." Halsin's tone is grim.
Minthara's glee is palpable. "Behold. This is the might that my people admire and fear."
The Pit Fiend spreads its limbs, and on the breeze you feel a scalding heat.
"Mystra's tresses, that's a full-on pyroclasm! The number of spells to call that sort of power to the fore, let alone on such a great area- it's the height of spellcraft!" Gale stares, aghast. "On top of what appears to be Shapechange as well! The pinnacle of self-transformation!"
"He turned into an angel earlier – a strong one. Flew like the wind he did." Karlach watches alongside you still, seeing the smoke rise.
A torrent of molten rock lurches skyward, enveloping not only the monastery, but nearly half a mile of mountainside around it. You are outside the range, and can only be grateful that a valley separates you from the carnage.
Heat flows on the wind, and wherever the lava falls it immediately blackens and cools. It reeks faintly of sulfur.
"...ah." Astarion's faint voice echoes after the blast fades from your ears. "Well then."
"He did say he would take care of the Creche," Shadowheart agrees numbly.
"Yup. Maybe they shoulda 'picked another tunnel', eh Minthara?" Karlach grins.
Minthara stares with glassy eyes, lips slightly parted. You understand why, of course, but the fact Torius just butchered your people with a ruptured mountain puts a damper on any possible arousal. Or perhaps it is the lingering sensation of loss and betrayal.
You are roused from your reverie by the massive devil landing in your midst, only for the badger to dismount and Torius to resume his natural form.
"Erupt. Takes a minute to set up, but when you want a particular township gone for a year minimum? Nothing like it." He gives a sharp nod.
"Why a year, exactly?" Wyll asks.
"Oh, you see the lava doesn't have the normal mineral content of actual volcanic discharge. That would make the land more fertile. This spell makes it a blackened waste incapable of supporting life locally for a full year."
Creccoth gives a long, tired exhale. "Halsin?"
"Yes?"
"Please point us at the nearest entry to the Underdark."
"Of course." To his credit, the druid seems utterly unbothered.
You do not know what awaits. For the first time, your path is unclear. Tonight you will ruminate and consider, but at the very least the day is done.
_____________________________________________________________________________
When we went to camp by the ruined temple of Selune, we expected maybe some leftover goblins or something.
Voss and two others were not on the agenda.
I sat on a log, watching as Voss knelt before Lae'zel with his sword on the ground.
"...speak."
Voss, old friend. He is one of the two outside the prism who know the full truth of what happened all those centuries ago.
"I think he mighta told a few people," I muttered.
"Lae'zel, you have seen it for yourself – Vlaakith is a petty tyrant, wasting the lives of our people."
She took a sharp breath.
"She knew who I was and still aimed the Creche at me," I pointed out. "At bare minimum I beat the shit out of a dragon goddess. That's before you take in me pulling Karsus to a draw or what I got up to in the Underdark, let alone tons of stuff I still haven't told you guys about."
Voss gave me an appreciative look. "Yes. I appreciate you giving me a chance to evacuate the youth I had managed to convince to my side."
I hadn't, really. I just got the mace and booked it once I checked if there were any little ones left. Buuut no point in correcting him, I guess.
"The zaith'isk-" Lae'zel began tersely.
"Is a lie! Ascension is a lie! The zaith'isk does not save, it tears the memories from their owner and kills them. Ascension is a smokescreen, hiding that Vlaakith takes almost all who grow to a certain point and devours them for power!"
"What is this… heresy!?" Lae'zel drew Painbringer, teeth bared.
Minthara leaned forward with interest.
"It makes sense."
Lae'zel's head snapped towards me.
"I have Detect Magic up permanently, and though Psionics is a little to the side I can still make it work. That psychic tick did exactly what Voss said. And the soul-eating thing is part and parcel of lichdom. The stronger the soul, the more good for your gold. As a soulsmith myself, that's just facts." I leaned back. "So revolution, then?"
Minthara gave me a concerned look. "Vlaakith is a powerful enemy," she murmured.
"Unlike the actual goddesses I've pissed off, she's eminently killable. Her phylactery exists, so I can find it. Once that's done, I can destroy it."
Voss gazed at me in naked awe.
"Buuuut that's a later thing. Right now I've got the Absolute to handle." I made a show of checking my nails. "Golly, when boss-man let me out of my box I had no idea there was so much mess to clean up. Busy, busy, busy."
"Shame you lack the impulse control to do it effectively. I suppose that means you'll need minders regardless."
I scowled at Shadowheart's barb and stuck my tongue out. "Nyeh."
Lae'zel breathed sharply. "Why. Why did she call for our heads?"
"She wanted the prisoner dead. Orpheus."
"He spoke to you?" Voss stood.
Lae'zel whirled on me. "That was him?" Her mouth opened slightly, eyes wide with betrayal.
"I found a tir'su slate I managed to translate with my enchantments. I'm getting the hang of the language." I waved the disc at her. "Sounds like Gith got traded by Vlaakith the original for the red dragon contract. Which given the latest one is a millennium lich sounds part and parcel for the position."
Lae'zel's shoulders slumped. "It cannot be. It must not."
I stood up. "Orpheus is part of our little group now, at least until we can free him. We can't give the prism to Voss – setting aside Shadowheart's cloister wants the box, if Vlaakith gets him back she'll kill him for sure."
"You decided this on your own?" Creccoth gave me a level look.
"I'm freeing him. It's what's right." I stood my ground.
Hear my words.
Everyone except Voss stiffened.
I am Orpheus, Prince of the Comet. Long have I languished, and long have I hoped. When the illithid enslaved me, I lost all sense of self. It used me and my power to protect itself from what you call the 'Absolute'. It would have used that same power to shroud you, use you to defeat its oppressor. Indebt you to it and manipulate you.
"Oh wow. I sure feel bad for killing it now," I drawled darkly.
Lae'zel snorted. "I fail to see why."
"Sarcasm. I say something in a certain tone and it means the opposite."
"Ah." She blinked. "Good to know."
With my power, I can protect you from that same being should this defense which connects us fall. But more, I can make it so your tadpoles can commune with the cult's without losing your defenses.
"Meaning we can infiltrate them," Gale said, immediately catching on.
Voss looked at us in confusion.
"Orpheus is offering us his aid. Probably in exchange for breaking him out," I explained.
I must save my people from Vlaakith, but this all reeks of a Grand Design. It comes first.
"Long and short? We need to bring down this cult, then Gith freedom happens." I shrugged.
Voss frowned.
"Orpheus used the term 'Grand Design'," Creccoth added in a soft tone. "That sounds ominous."
Voss' eyes widened. "I see. In that case, if it is his will I will bow to it." He looked at us. "Lae'zel, I knew from the moment I saw you that you could be T'lak'ma Ghir, sister in freedom. I ask this of you: make your way to Baldur's Gate, where we will reunite. There we will plot the release of our Prince, stop the Grand Design, and begin our bid for freedom."
Lae'zel's lip curled. "I must think on your words. Torius will do as he pleases, as is his wont. But much has transpired."
Voss gave a sympathetic nod. "Your words hold truth and a great many burdens. I will leave you with two things. First, this." He held out a small cord with an ornament on it.
"Qua'nith. A psionic detector." Lae'zel took it and placed it in her pack.
"Yes. Vlaakith hunts you, and this will sound when her patrols are near. So you may face them, or skirt their gaze." Voss nodded again.
"The second?" Lae'zel prompted.
"A blessing. Mha stil'na forjun inyeri." Voss continued to smile. "Vlaakith's eyes pierce sky and sea. Though your camp is safer than many places, I cannot be gone for long. She trusts me yet, and so I must play my part." He hesitated, smile unsure. "My prince… does he listen?"
I nodded. "He's part of the Mind Blank I crafted, and twined his power into it. It feels… warm. Like a blanket on a winter night."
Voss' smile firmed. "He likes you."
"I mean, I broke the flayer's domination on him, I'd hope he'd be grateful," I joked.
There was a brief chuckle. Indeed. Tell him I look forward to having him at my side once more. He, Qudenos, Quulos, and Quuthos.
Well. At least I haven't fought the other two. I think.
Another laugh. Cease, young Torius. My honor guard is confused by my mirth.
Oh boy. Another person to call me a kid. Joy.
"Anyways, he says he looks forward to fighting alongside you, Qudenos, Quulos, and Quuthos." I folded my arms.
Voss closed his eyes briefly. "Thank you, Scribe." He turned. "Lae'zel. May the comet light your path."
Lae'zel did not respond verbally, but gave a nod of acknowledgment.
The gith left, and once outside my Anchor they took a portal of light.
For a moment, there was silence.
"Sooo," I drawled. "Who wants to talk about how the Absolute's Chosen probably serve the Dud Three, and one of them is Karlach's boss who sold her to Zariel?"
"What!?" "Excuse me?" "Egad!" "Are you bloody serious!?" "Hells."
I smiled.
Mother preserve me. How did a lawful god like Jergal have an imp like you as Chosen?
The other option was letting me run loose?
That makes a horrifying amount of sense.
Creccoth placed his entire palm over my face. "We will discuss it. You will remain silent."
I opened my mouth, but there was a light tingle.
Shadowheart smirked as she maintained the bubble of Silence around my head.
I scowled playfully and let her get away with it.
Why?
Lae'zel gave a wan smile, only to sit at my side.
Ah.
She exhaled as Creccoth, Shadowheart, Wyll, and Karlach began to explain their parts of what happened at Rosymorn.
"I did what was asked of me." She stared straight ahead.
I nodded.
"I believed. I followed the scriptures. I was loyal, faithful. Every act was in accordance with the law. If I am to believe this… then… I have not sinned against Vlaakith. I was true."
I nodded again.
"If this is so, then perhaps… perhaps Vlaakith has sinned against me."
She has, Lae'zel. Orpheus' mind-voice was gentle. Just as she has against many of our brothers and sisters. This is why we must stop her.
Lae'zel remained pensive. "You are a staunch ally, Torius. In each case, you guided me as best as you could. It is… appreciated."
With a modicum of effort, I broke Shadowheart's spell. "That's what friends do, yeah?" I smiled.
Lae'zel gave me a curious look. "Perhaps."
"It is! So as a friend, what did you and Minthara-" My voice cut out again.
"No." Shadowheart resumed her explanation.
I pouted.
Minthara gave me a knowing look before a wicked chuckle. "I have no reserve about sharing my secrets with a lover, but you are not one. And I do not like sharing. Lae'zel is mine."
Lae'zel's eyebrows raised.
Minthara met her gaze. "If Vlaakith wishes to claim you, well. I will simply have to break her bones and blast her rotting brain from its socket with divine might."
She swallowed.
I broke the spell one more time. "The word you're looking for is 'hot', Lae'zel."
Lae'zel regained her composure and shoved me aside. "Chk. That I know, Torius."
I laid on my side with a put-upon look.
Oh well. At least from this angle I had a great view of Astarion's ass.
Githyanki struggled against intellect devourers, fighting with hands and feet against the little monsters. I didn't see any mind flayers, but if these were here then it was all but certain there was at least one.
"Chk. We've arrived at the right spot." Lae'zel drew her maul, glowering. "What is the weapon?"
I looked around. The other gith hadn't come at us, but were keeping their distance. But further in was a spectacle.
A gith man suspended between Avernian crystals, chains of energy suspending him within a shimmering psionic sphere. The sphere wasn't part of the prison, and neither was the orange glow in his eyes. He wore a silverish muzzle, head back either in strain or agony. Possibly both.
And I felt the strange sensation emanating from him – a form of telepathy that indicated he could do more with it than communication.
"Him, I think. He's-" I focused. "Dominated. If I bring him under my protection, it won't free him from the chains but at least it will help."
A githyanki crashed next to me. "You seek to help him?" she asked with a dark look.
"He's suffering. I don't need a reason more than that." I looked at Lae'zel. "He's a victim of a mind flayer, Lae'zel."
Her lip curled. "Imprisoned twice over. Pah. The ghaik is clearly what Vlaakith demanded we destroy."
The monk's eyes darted to me.
"The most likely target," I agreed, inclining my head towards the newcomer.
She relaxed. "I am Prelate Lir'i'c. Your assistance is welcomed."
I turned, and pressed my finger to my thumb. "Let's shine some light on the subject. Chained Moon Bolt."
I clicked my fingers.
A torrent of jagged silver energy lashed into the nearest Intellect Devourer, and sprang to another. And another. More and more, lashing through and sapping them of physical might with the moon's radiance.
"Tsk'va," Lir'i'c breathed. She looked at me. "That was the entire wave. More will come, once the ghaik finishes with the other interlopers."
I stiffened. "What?"
"Free the prisoner, then we race to our allies!" Lae'zel urged, eyes narrow.
"Those chains- even if I disjoin them, they're quasi-divine by diabolism, the eruption-"
"From the GHAIK," she stressed, rolling her eyes.
I slapped my forehead. "Doy. Right!" I pulled out the Mind-Shielder. "One more Mind Blank, coming up!"
And with a single shake, I ensnared who I deeply suspected was the one person Vlaakith feared most.
He blinked slowly, eyes returning to a solid brown.
"Lir'i'c, which way did you see the flayer go?" I asked, feeling my blood begin to rush.
She pointed, and I scooped Lae'zel into my arms – right as I became a Solar.
"We fly," I rumbled. With a single flap of my wings, I launched through stellar rubble. But not before something touched my mind.
Why?
Because you needed help. Why else?
...ha. How very strange. Very well, Mla'ghir. Return once you dispatch the illithid. ...if there is a way to extract knowledge, use it. Whatever its agenda, I fear it. I shall inform my honor guard of all developments herein.
I ducked my head, a faint aura rapidly approaching. Got it.
"The prisoner is an incredibly powerful telepath. He might be able to interfere with hive mind communication – a natural enemy of illithids."
"Tsk'va! If we lost him to the ghaik, then any rise of the Grand Design could not be stopped. We have done the work of heroes this day."
There was no point arguing. After all, she was right – even if she didn't know the entire story. ...neither did I.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Creccoth
"So you see, I am an ally. By drawing on this power I stole from Vlaakith, I can protect you while permitting the cult to identify you as their own." The strange drow spreads her palms. "I will protect you as you embrace your poten-"
"HTAK'A!" Lae'zel falls on the stranger, maul leading her plummet. The lightning-wreathed metal impacts the drow's shoulder, and the illusion shatters.
The mind flayer stares back as it reels, pink eyes wide and clutching a shoulder dripping silver.
Torius emerges from a whirl of wings, eyes blazing. "By all means. Do go on. After all, abusing a captive gith must have quite the reason." Frost drips from his hand, and Last Goodnight sprouts from his palm. With a shake of his sleeve, something you cannot see falls into his other hand.
The illithid raises a claw. Wait! I am not your enemy. I stand against the Absolute!
"What is it."
Something complex. I cannot say.
"Can't, or won't?" Torius stared it down.
You raised a hand. "Torius, Vlaakith intends to kill us regardless of if we kill it. Perhaps-"
"No. Mindflayers lie. It's what they do." Torius raises his sword, head glowing a faint green from his circlet. "They lie, manipulate, omit. Enthrall. The only beings they see as equal are other illithids."
I am approaching you openly, as an equal. Do not do this.
Lae'zel bristles, and you can tell the end is near. "You approached in an illusion, attempting to seduce them! Liar!"
"How will we learn what we need to from him if he dies?" you ask, trying once more to defuse the situation.
Shadowheart jerks, and you realize she has come to an epiphany before yourself – but you cannot figure out what it is. "Torius, wait. Think about what you're doing."
"Soldier," Karlach warns, spreading her hands.
"Well!" Torius chirps, a vicious smile splitting his face.
The illithid turns to Torius, a frightening chitter coming from its hidden beak. No. Frightened. It may not have emotions you understand, but it still desires to live.
"Perhaps it can tell us a story!"
And with a single thrust, you feel history change.
As the ice spreads along its body from the point of impact, as the illithid turns into a frozen statue, Torius opens his palm.
And a wave of silver-violet flees the illithid corpse, impacting the shard of chardalyn.
_____________________________________________________________________________
"...that was-"
"Yes." Jergal watches, unmoved.
"How likely are they to defeat it without an illithid?"
Jergal scoffs at Kelemvor. "He can easily shapechange into one for the duration needed. No, what you must consider is this:"
The Death Lord looks at his seneschal, a line of tension in his body.
"What will this mean for the three imbeciles I empowered so long ago? Once he fully comes into his power, he alone will be able to perform the rites required."
"For what, Jergal?"
The Final Scribe turns, gazing at his lord's former lover, the goddess of Magic.
"To return what I gave, of course. To change it, to permanently alter the balance."
"Ao won't accept it," Mystra warned. "I'm uncertain if even we should."
We must. Selune hovers in the background, the one who called this convocation.
"Thou didst inherit your predecessor's memories, as she did hers. Thou knowst what must be done." Jergal inclines his head. "Lathander set it in motion."
Mystra curls her lip. "I shall reach out to Elminster and give Gale his alternative to the star-touched's stopgap. However, I will refrain from asking him to sacrifice himself."
We come closer to Shar's reckoning. Two lives she has ruined, and with this the child may well ruin her.
"If nothing else, her plots will be thoroughly derailed." Kelemvor crosses his arms. "Jergal. Once Thorm is dead, approach them. Be a divine guide to him. He has served his time in darkness."
Jergal gives a slow blink. "Indeed." As though such were not his idea before.
For two thousand years, he has had one worshipper. One prayer, who prayed not to his doctrine but an interpretation. And so the Grim Seneschal had changed. Once evil, once malevolent, he had become this.
He had observed Myrkul. Observed Cyric. Now was the time. Now was the moment to bring his plans to fruition.
He was so very tired of being the villain. He had no desire to be a hero. He simply wished to perform his duties in peace.
This was the path. The path to Selune regaining her chosen. The path to erasing the last of Karsus' influence. The path to neatly thwarting the Dead Three one last time.
Neither early nor late, but begun by Ao's denial of necessity.
"Fate spins along, as it should."
_____________________________________________________________________________
I admired the shard and returned it to my workshop, sending it through a series of portals. I would complete the ink tonight.
"That-" Wyll began, frowning.
"Was an illithid. By nature, they cannot coexist with sentient beings. Their diet is mandatory, and unlike Astarion they cannot substitute animals. Further, they are abusers, groomers, and tyrants by design." I feel no remorse. "With that thing's soul in hand, I can turn it into a tome – and gain knowledge of its life. Before the transformation, after, and all it knew. Beyond that, it will serve to increase my power, which I will need to deal with the Dead Three." I returned my sword from whence it came, and folded my arms.
Wyll stared me down. "And what of us? Are we to stand to the side, allowing you to do this on our behalf? Are we of no aid in this battle?"
"Soldier, you didn't have to do that. Kill it, maybe, sure. But that's a bridge far for just trying to jerk our chains."
I balled my fists. "It wanted you to change."
Shadowheart's eyes widened as she was the only one to get it.
"What?" Creccoth stepped forward, concern on his face.
"Lae'zel's growing into her strength. Karlach's free of the Hells. Wyll could be, and he might get to reconcile with his father, needs to save him. Gale might get the orb out. Astarion could be free of Cazador. You could be free of- the thing." I gesture at him. "And he wanted you all to throw it in the bin. Become illithid, because your struggles, your desire to be more as you are, meant nothing to him."
Lae'zel's gaze softened. "...you struck out of care."
I shifted. "And… you're my friends. And more than friends." I looked at Creccoth. "I don't want to lose you," I whispered.
Wyll slumped. "Lad." He walked forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It will take more than a pretty lie to get most of us to take what he offers. We've been burned by devils' offers before, most of us." He dropped his hand, but his anger had all but gone.
"Or we simply have good sense," Shadowheart added dryly. She paused, then smirked. "Besides. I've grown used to Karlach and the rest of you. It will take a bit more than that to get rid of me."
"Oooh. I come first, eh?" Karlach gave a goofy grin.
Shadowheart blushed. "Well. Erm."
Lae'zel rolled her eyes. "Chk. Our alliance is not so fragile a simple ghaik can break it. Still, there is a use. It clearly wished to retain the upper hand by holding back information. With this, we can proceed as one."
You succeeded. The remaining devourers have fallen into the astral sea. But you must leave. Vlaakith has left a kill squad behind – the mind flayer was not her target.
No. You were… Orpheus. That was the name on the disc the young gith passed me.
You know me. The voice seemed pleased.
Third hand. I won't say you're lying, but if Vlaakith has done this after Lae'zel has been nothing but loyal-
You are as much threat to her as I. Should your god permit, I look forward to our alliance with a glad heart. Go, escape. I felt a gentle nudge in my head, and I opened a memory that I had let float to the surface. Though perhaps with a touch less haste, Orpheus corrected with directed interest at the Blood of Lathander.
I'll get you out of there. It'll take time, but-
I know. One recognizes a kindred spirit, after all. His amusement was palpable.
I exhaled. "The prisoner thinks there's a kill squad out there. Something about Vlaakith wanting us dead now too."
"What!?" Lae'zel whirled on me.
"I have no idea why. We killed the thing!" I pointed at the illithid-shaped husk of frost.
"Chk. We will emerge, and see what has transpired."
"And if it's true, we crush 'em." Karlach jerked her head at the lingering portal.
Creccoth's hands twitched. "...I will not forget such treachery if true. I'll pen their life-ends in blood with my own two hands."
Shadowheart gave him a wary look. "Down, boy."
Wyll simply rolled his shoulders. "Well. Ladies, gentlemen- shall we dance?"
Creccoth turned on his heel, leaving a hand by his side. "Let's."
I took it, and followed him into the light.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Lae'zel
You emerge, and two things take your notice. First, Vlaakith's projection is nowhere to be seen. This is unsurprising; she has given mandate and can receive word from one of your people.
What sets your instincts on edge is the positioning of said people – ardents on a raised platform to your left flank. The inquisitor stands before you with two gish, forming a line between you and the exit. The raider takes the high ground, and the warrior stays near him.
"We return victorious," you pronounce. "The ghaik threat is dead, by the hands of myself and the Heretic Scholar." The title rolls off your tongue, and you feel pride. You may not have slain the illithid personally, but if it was weak enough to fall to the secondary power of Torius' blade, then it was hardly worth your time. Or, perhaps, merely unlucky- in which case you were sure to find more to slaughter regardless.
"Lae'zel. You have been sentenced to death by our Queen." W'wargaz is placid, as though he had not just spoken utter madness. "You will be known as hshar'lak, for all our people to kill on sight."
"I'm sorry, what?" Karlach steps forward, hand on her blade's hilt. "Your queen said there was something foul in that prism, and we found and killed it. That is literally what she asked us to do! Why the fuck would Lae'zel have to die for it?"
"Silence, istik. You too will fall to our blades."
You grit your teeth. You do not know how you displeased Vlaakith, you cannot fathom it. "The ghaik is slain! Explain, Ch'r'ai!" And worse, the companions who have trod the same path as you, trusted in you for salvation, have followed you here. First the zaith'isk, and now this.
"There is nothing to explain to hshar'lak." He draws his blade. "Ch'mar, zal'a Vlaakith!"
There is no time for Creccoth's silver tongue, nor Wyll's diplomacy. Your people are upon you.
"...fuck this." Torius' quiet proclamation chills your marrow. The air stills, and as one the enemies freeze. A faint aura of rose encircles each one.
"Erm. Is that you?" Shadowheart looks at Torius, concerned.
"Hold Person, Mass." Torius slowly steps forward. His eyes blaze, illuminated from within.
Creccoth reaches for him, stops him with a touch to his shoulder. "Torius."
"...I could tear the knowledge from his mind. Glasya gave me a spell back when we traveled together – but it's foul. I don't shy from evil magic, you know it. But the name is very much what it is." He looks to you. "I could try to find out why."
"Would he know?" Wyll asks, stepping forward. "I wonder if he would. Githyanki seem to be rather… devoted to Vlaakith. She may have just given the order."
"Do your worst," the inquisitor grits out. "The Creche, all our people know- you will never again know peace, istik."
You decide. "Kill them. If they will not listen to reason, we shall repay them in blood." You draw the maul given to you by Torius, ready to crush skulls. It is not a silver sword, but it will serve until you can claim your own.
This cannot be as it seems. It must not be.
An ardent breaks free, only for Wyll to snap a pair of green-black blasts into his chest. The warlock charges, blade drawn to ensure he stays down- only to nearly duck a psychic bolt from the other ardent.
Shadowheart's reaction is to engulf the gith in brilliant light, and the scent of sizzling flesh hits your nostrils.
The others are held fast, and you see Creccoth raise a hand wreathed in lightning. The ensuing torrent catches the inquisitor and raider, but it seems that the inquisitor takes the brunt. He does not fall, but the blackened flesh shows the blow was telling.
Finally, your feet move you to your target and you bring the maul sideways in a cross-slam that catches W'wargaz' ribs with a crunch. He rocks to the side, and the way his limbs loosen shows he has been freed of Torius' binding. Your follow-up is directly to his head, but you miss and bring the head of your weapon down on the inquisitor's collarbone, sending a gout of blood from the shattering impact. Unable to parry, he drops his blade, raising a hand to his head.
Flames rush by you as Karlach lunges at the raider, the one least harmed – and with a vicious roar her blade ignites them both into a pillar of incandescence, disrupted by slashing blaze. The raider's crossbow is all that remains as ash drifts on the flow of air in the sanctum.
Creccoth lands by you, somehow capable of flight – and with a ghoulish glow on his hand he latches onto W'wargaz' head.
The gith inquisitor lets out a bloody rasp as his skin sloughs off his skull, eyes melting into useless pulp from Creccoth's spell.
You chance a look behind, and Wyll drops the remaining ardent off of the platform, pulling his rapier free.
The entire slaughter took perhaps half a minute. You turn your head and see no sign of Torius.
"And we have lost sight of the manchild. Glorious." Shadowheart gestures tiredly.
"More child than man, Shadowheart. He is our youngest," Wyll responds. It sounds somewhat similar to a reprimand, but is entirely too kind to be one.
"Hard disagree, Soldier. Anyone who gets fearless leader going bowlegged for the first stretch of our daily constitutional definitely qualifies as a 'man'." Karlach shoots Creccoth a grin.
You look at him, blinking in surprise.
Creccoth is unabashed. "He's enthusiastic, but inexperienced. Trainable, though."
To your gratification, you are not the only one rendered speechless – Shadowheart's jaw drops in shock.
"And to his credit, the pain was very mild and he healed it when he noticed." Creccoth shrugs without a care.
Wyll places a hand on his forehead. "Thank you for oversharing, Creccoth. Now. Where do you think Torius went off to-"
"Back!" Torius enters the chamber from what appears to be a hidden passage at a light jog, Tootsie on his heels. A mace is strapped to his back, emitting a halo of light.
"What is that." Shadowheart stares at it suspiciously.
"The thing Lathander asked me to get so the Githyanki can't use it. Also our ticket through the Shadowlands without turning into undead." Torius pauses. "Well, a ticket. Apparently I can do a bit more. Still!" He looks at you all. "So this whole place has gone hostile, huh."
"Yes. To a one, they will all clamor for our blood on leaving this place."
Torius slowly nods. "Right. So I'll send you guys ahead and catch up once I've handled it. I have permission from the old owner."
"The monks?" you ask, frowning. "They are long dead."
"He means the god this place is still consecrated to, I wager." Shadowheart frowns. "And what do you intend to do?"
"You'll see! From a safe distance." Torius' expression takes on that same vicious cast as when he slaughtered the illithid who dared to try and deceive you all. "I promise, it will be quite the spectacle."
Creccoth gives you an inscrutable look. "Lae'zel?"
"...it does not make sense." Now that the rush of battle is over and danger is pushed back momentarily, the enormity of what has transpired lies upon you. "We did as ordered. Hshar'lak – a betrayer among betrayers, to have one's name stricken from the slates of our people. The closest translation you have is 'unforgivable'." You shake your head. "No, it must be a test. Vlaakith is testing me, testing my mettle."
"It didn't sound that way. Not to me." Torius folds his arms. "Something about her seemed… off. She was desperate for whatever was in the prism to be destroyed. If it wasn't the mind flayer, it was the prisoner – who as we saw-"
"Tsk'va! That is madness. If he has the power to blunt the mightiest weapon of the ghaik, then killing him serves no purpose. He is muzzled, chained. No true threat to Vlaakith." You close your eyes. "I must think – but this Creche will come after us if we leave."
"Right. We can discuss it later." Creccoth looks to Torius. "What do you intend to do?"
Torius simply smiles. "I have it on good authority that outside this room, anyone I'd have qualms about killing has left the Creche. So you leave, and Tootsie and I set off a little something. I'm sure Astarion and Minthara will enjoy the show from afar."
"That is not reassuring. I lack the words for how not reassuring that is." Shadowheart gives Torius a disgruntled look.
You gaze upon him and give a single nod. "Send us. There is no more for me here."
With a gesture from the archivist, the world blends into a rush of color – and you see the remainder of your compatriots around a small campfire as dusk begins to claim the sky.
"Well?" Minthara gives you an imperious glare.
"Chk. Much has transpired." You look to Creccoth. "My patience thins. You will explain it."
Creccoth gives a firm nod. "Go rest."
But before he can say anything, there is a rumble in the distance.
You look, and well away you see the monastery above the Creche. The rumble is like thunder, but you feel it beneath you. The breeze moves, and you squint to see if anything new has come.
"What in the hells is going on? Where's Torius? Creccoth!?" Astarion lurches forward, eyes wide.
"He said he was handling the Creche." Karlach shrugs, and looks alongside you. "Oh. Hells."
Cracks of light show along the mountainside. Whatever has begun cannot be stopped.
A batlike shape lunges from the monastery into the air, and you see a flicker of silver clinging to a massive dark form.
"That's a Pit Fiend! And Tootsie's riding the shoulders like a bloody patriar's stole!" Karlach holds a hand over her eyes. "Shit, can anyone make out what's happening?"
"The very earth roars with indignance. Torius has loosed a great power there." Halsin's tone is grim.
Minthara's glee is palpable. "Behold. This is the might that my people admire and fear."
The Pit Fiend spreads its limbs, and on the breeze you feel a scalding heat.
"Mystra's tresses, that's a full-on pyroclasm! The number of spells to call that sort of power to the fore, let alone on such a great area- it's the height of spellcraft!" Gale stares, aghast. "On top of what appears to be Shapechange as well! The pinnacle of self-transformation!"
"He turned into an angel earlier – a strong one. Flew like the wind he did." Karlach watches alongside you still, seeing the smoke rise.
A torrent of molten rock lurches skyward, enveloping not only the monastery, but nearly half a mile of mountainside around it. You are outside the range, and can only be grateful that a valley separates you from the carnage.
Heat flows on the wind, and wherever the lava falls it immediately blackens and cools. It reeks faintly of sulfur.
"...ah." Astarion's faint voice echoes after the blast fades from your ears. "Well then."
"He did say he would take care of the Creche," Shadowheart agrees numbly.
"Yup. Maybe they shoulda 'picked another tunnel', eh Minthara?" Karlach grins.
Minthara stares with glassy eyes, lips slightly parted. You understand why, of course, but the fact Torius just butchered your people with a ruptured mountain puts a damper on any possible arousal. Or perhaps it is the lingering sensation of loss and betrayal.
You are roused from your reverie by the massive devil landing in your midst, only for the badger to dismount and Torius to resume his natural form.
"Erupt. Takes a minute to set up, but when you want a particular township gone for a year minimum? Nothing like it." He gives a sharp nod.
"Why a year, exactly?" Wyll asks.
"Oh, you see the lava doesn't have the normal mineral content of actual volcanic discharge. That would make the land more fertile. This spell makes it a blackened waste incapable of supporting life locally for a full year."
Creccoth gives a long, tired exhale. "Halsin?"
"Yes?"
"Please point us at the nearest entry to the Underdark."
"Of course." To his credit, the druid seems utterly unbothered.
You do not know what awaits. For the first time, your path is unclear. Tonight you will ruminate and consider, but at the very least the day is done.
_____________________________________________________________________________
When we went to camp by the ruined temple of Selune, we expected maybe some leftover goblins or something.
Voss and two others were not on the agenda.
I sat on a log, watching as Voss knelt before Lae'zel with his sword on the ground.
"...speak."
Voss, old friend. He is one of the two outside the prism who know the full truth of what happened all those centuries ago.
"I think he mighta told a few people," I muttered.
"Lae'zel, you have seen it for yourself – Vlaakith is a petty tyrant, wasting the lives of our people."
She took a sharp breath.
"She knew who I was and still aimed the Creche at me," I pointed out. "At bare minimum I beat the shit out of a dragon goddess. That's before you take in me pulling Karsus to a draw or what I got up to in the Underdark, let alone tons of stuff I still haven't told you guys about."
Voss gave me an appreciative look. "Yes. I appreciate you giving me a chance to evacuate the youth I had managed to convince to my side."
I hadn't, really. I just got the mace and booked it once I checked if there were any little ones left. Buuut no point in correcting him, I guess.
"The zaith'isk-" Lae'zel began tersely.
"Is a lie! Ascension is a lie! The zaith'isk does not save, it tears the memories from their owner and kills them. Ascension is a smokescreen, hiding that Vlaakith takes almost all who grow to a certain point and devours them for power!"
"What is this… heresy!?" Lae'zel drew Painbringer, teeth bared.
Minthara leaned forward with interest.
"It makes sense."
Lae'zel's head snapped towards me.
"I have Detect Magic up permanently, and though Psionics is a little to the side I can still make it work. That psychic tick did exactly what Voss said. And the soul-eating thing is part and parcel of lichdom. The stronger the soul, the more good for your gold. As a soulsmith myself, that's just facts." I leaned back. "So revolution, then?"
Minthara gave me a concerned look. "Vlaakith is a powerful enemy," she murmured.
"Unlike the actual goddesses I've pissed off, she's eminently killable. Her phylactery exists, so I can find it. Once that's done, I can destroy it."
Voss gazed at me in naked awe.
"Buuuut that's a later thing. Right now I've got the Absolute to handle." I made a show of checking my nails. "Golly, when boss-man let me out of my box I had no idea there was so much mess to clean up. Busy, busy, busy."
"Shame you lack the impulse control to do it effectively. I suppose that means you'll need minders regardless."
I scowled at Shadowheart's barb and stuck my tongue out. "Nyeh."
Lae'zel breathed sharply. "Why. Why did she call for our heads?"
"She wanted the prisoner dead. Orpheus."
"He spoke to you?" Voss stood.
Lae'zel whirled on me. "That was him?" Her mouth opened slightly, eyes wide with betrayal.
"I found a tir'su slate I managed to translate with my enchantments. I'm getting the hang of the language." I waved the disc at her. "Sounds like Gith got traded by Vlaakith the original for the red dragon contract. Which given the latest one is a millennium lich sounds part and parcel for the position."
Lae'zel's shoulders slumped. "It cannot be. It must not."
I stood up. "Orpheus is part of our little group now, at least until we can free him. We can't give the prism to Voss – setting aside Shadowheart's cloister wants the box, if Vlaakith gets him back she'll kill him for sure."
"You decided this on your own?" Creccoth gave me a level look.
"I'm freeing him. It's what's right." I stood my ground.
Hear my words.
Everyone except Voss stiffened.
I am Orpheus, Prince of the Comet. Long have I languished, and long have I hoped. When the illithid enslaved me, I lost all sense of self. It used me and my power to protect itself from what you call the 'Absolute'. It would have used that same power to shroud you, use you to defeat its oppressor. Indebt you to it and manipulate you.
"Oh wow. I sure feel bad for killing it now," I drawled darkly.
Lae'zel snorted. "I fail to see why."
"Sarcasm. I say something in a certain tone and it means the opposite."
"Ah." She blinked. "Good to know."
With my power, I can protect you from that same being should this defense which connects us fall. But more, I can make it so your tadpoles can commune with the cult's without losing your defenses.
"Meaning we can infiltrate them," Gale said, immediately catching on.
Voss looked at us in confusion.
"Orpheus is offering us his aid. Probably in exchange for breaking him out," I explained.
I must save my people from Vlaakith, but this all reeks of a Grand Design. It comes first.
"Long and short? We need to bring down this cult, then Gith freedom happens." I shrugged.
Voss frowned.
"Orpheus used the term 'Grand Design'," Creccoth added in a soft tone. "That sounds ominous."
Voss' eyes widened. "I see. In that case, if it is his will I will bow to it." He looked at us. "Lae'zel, I knew from the moment I saw you that you could be T'lak'ma Ghir, sister in freedom. I ask this of you: make your way to Baldur's Gate, where we will reunite. There we will plot the release of our Prince, stop the Grand Design, and begin our bid for freedom."
Lae'zel's lip curled. "I must think on your words. Torius will do as he pleases, as is his wont. But much has transpired."
Voss gave a sympathetic nod. "Your words hold truth and a great many burdens. I will leave you with two things. First, this." He held out a small cord with an ornament on it.
"Qua'nith. A psionic detector." Lae'zel took it and placed it in her pack.
"Yes. Vlaakith hunts you, and this will sound when her patrols are near. So you may face them, or skirt their gaze." Voss nodded again.
"The second?" Lae'zel prompted.
"A blessing. Mha stil'na forjun inyeri." Voss continued to smile. "Vlaakith's eyes pierce sky and sea. Though your camp is safer than many places, I cannot be gone for long. She trusts me yet, and so I must play my part." He hesitated, smile unsure. "My prince… does he listen?"
I nodded. "He's part of the Mind Blank I crafted, and twined his power into it. It feels… warm. Like a blanket on a winter night."
Voss' smile firmed. "He likes you."
"I mean, I broke the flayer's domination on him, I'd hope he'd be grateful," I joked.
There was a brief chuckle. Indeed. Tell him I look forward to having him at my side once more. He, Qudenos, Quulos, and Quuthos.
Well. At least I haven't fought the other two. I think.
Another laugh. Cease, young Torius. My honor guard is confused by my mirth.
Oh boy. Another person to call me a kid. Joy.
"Anyways, he says he looks forward to fighting alongside you, Qudenos, Quulos, and Quuthos." I folded my arms.
Voss closed his eyes briefly. "Thank you, Scribe." He turned. "Lae'zel. May the comet light your path."
Lae'zel did not respond verbally, but gave a nod of acknowledgment.
The gith left, and once outside my Anchor they took a portal of light.
For a moment, there was silence.
"Sooo," I drawled. "Who wants to talk about how the Absolute's Chosen probably serve the Dud Three, and one of them is Karlach's boss who sold her to Zariel?"
"What!?" "Excuse me?" "Egad!" "Are you bloody serious!?" "Hells."
I smiled.
Mother preserve me. How did a lawful god like Jergal have an imp like you as Chosen?
The other option was letting me run loose?
That makes a horrifying amount of sense.
Creccoth placed his entire palm over my face. "We will discuss it. You will remain silent."
I opened my mouth, but there was a light tingle.
Shadowheart smirked as she maintained the bubble of Silence around my head.
I scowled playfully and let her get away with it.
Why?
Lae'zel gave a wan smile, only to sit at my side.
Ah.
She exhaled as Creccoth, Shadowheart, Wyll, and Karlach began to explain their parts of what happened at Rosymorn.
"I did what was asked of me." She stared straight ahead.
I nodded.
"I believed. I followed the scriptures. I was loyal, faithful. Every act was in accordance with the law. If I am to believe this… then… I have not sinned against Vlaakith. I was true."
I nodded again.
"If this is so, then perhaps… perhaps Vlaakith has sinned against me."
She has, Lae'zel. Orpheus' mind-voice was gentle. Just as she has against many of our brothers and sisters. This is why we must stop her.
Lae'zel remained pensive. "You are a staunch ally, Torius. In each case, you guided me as best as you could. It is… appreciated."
With a modicum of effort, I broke Shadowheart's spell. "That's what friends do, yeah?" I smiled.
Lae'zel gave me a curious look. "Perhaps."
"It is! So as a friend, what did you and Minthara-" My voice cut out again.
"No." Shadowheart resumed her explanation.
I pouted.
Minthara gave me a knowing look before a wicked chuckle. "I have no reserve about sharing my secrets with a lover, but you are not one. And I do not like sharing. Lae'zel is mine."
Lae'zel's eyebrows raised.
Minthara met her gaze. "If Vlaakith wishes to claim you, well. I will simply have to break her bones and blast her rotting brain from its socket with divine might."
She swallowed.
I broke the spell one more time. "The word you're looking for is 'hot', Lae'zel."
Lae'zel regained her composure and shoved me aside. "Chk. That I know, Torius."
I laid on my side with a put-upon look.
Oh well. At least from this angle I had a great view of Astarion's ass.
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- Location
- Who knows?
Ouf hope he doesn't try immediately nuking Ommelum in the cool fungi town!
But dawwwww Orpheus! Gotta say, the way people go "hrm but maybe he's also a nasty imperialist so the Emperor enslaving him is actually okay," really grinds my gears. Especially when they follow up with "how dare he say he'd rather we die!!! UNFORGIVABLE." Yeah he said he wished you died last time he saw you because he saw you murdering the last of his friends with a mindflayer. Gee golly wiz, what a totally unreasonable grudge amirite. And it's literally one line of vented spleen before he's willing to offer his full cooperation!
But dawwwww Orpheus! Gotta say, the way people go "hrm but maybe he's also a nasty imperialist so the Emperor enslaving him is actually okay," really grinds my gears. Especially when they follow up with "how dare he say he'd rather we die!!! UNFORGIVABLE." Yeah he said he wished you died last time he saw you because he saw you murdering the last of his friends with a mindflayer. Gee golly wiz, what a totally unreasonable grudge amirite. And it's literally one line of vented spleen before he's willing to offer his full cooperation!
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
To be fair, Ommeluum is very up front about who and what it is from the word go - that would/will allow for actual dialogue.
Also wow, it's like working with his guard and Torius openly stating his intent to free Orpheus scores some hardcore approval points or something? Beyond that, in any epilogue Orpheus is in charge, he wants to work with the ascetics who split off from the space pirate empire. That says a lot.
Yes Emps is dead, but now it's time for him to haunt the narrative via one of Torius' Bad Folk Books. (Ansur in particular will be fun.)
- Location
- Boston
Aww, I really like the Emperor as a character. Don't think he deserves the whole "soul extracted and used as ink" bit.
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Hence the 'haunts the narrative' bit. He and Orpheus are incompatible by design, and there was no way his usual schtick was going to endear him to the ancient nightmare on legs we affectionately call our co-tagonist.
Cue everything about Balduran and Ansur being read over the rest of the fic, including his hideout as a memorial scene.
Put plainly, there was never a way Emps was surviving contact with Torius, not with how both characters think and operate. But I can still make him interesting after the fact this way.
See, it's funny because he's using the wrong equation to get to the right answer. The Emperor and Ommeluum are two halves of the same coin, proof that blanket hatred of Illithids even outside the hivemind of an elder brain is incorrect. There are other examples in Sigil, and the story even goes out of its way to point out that they don't have souls useful to the gods, backing up some earlier material implying they have soul equivalents.
The reason the Emperor is a bad guy isn't because he's an illithid, it's because he chooses to do bad things.
And all of this is correct, but if you had overcome that manipulation and taken the power to destroy the Nether Brain, his only thing is that he's so fucking scared of Orpheus that he knows will come after him and kill him, he sees the Nether Brain as his only possible way to survive that.
Not that it justifies his actions leading up to it, but that action itself is understandable.
See, that's the one thing that I don't mind. Illithids have a bad reputation, if he went to you without the illusion he would be dismissed out of hand.
Now, being the one that infected you, and everything else he does to manipulate you, isn't reasonable.
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Am I wrong in hoping someone just refuses to glaze Torius as he does horrible shit, even if he targets bad people when he does it?
Like, I want Boo to look into his soul, and find him lacking.
Like, I want Boo to look into his soul, and find him lacking.