<- Chpt 1. The Nautiloid
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Chpt 3. The Grove ->

Chpt 2. Vassals

Trigger Warning: Threats of Violence > Mild Violence > Play stupid games win stupid prizes.

My mind shifts between visions. Cambions. Mind Flayers. The overwhelming stench of an illithid colony. The sound of laughter, shrill, mad, daggered. A scalpel. My innards in a pile on my stomach...


I breathe in sharply through my nose and wince as the sun's rays assault my eyes. The sharp pain over my right eye returns and this time splits straight through my brain. I don't remember blacking out, but I'm awake now. How? I can't believe it. My body refuses to believe it. My fingers dig into the sand beneath me, and I grip it tightly. Gritty. Cold. Wet. I smell the stench of burning hair and flesh. Keratin. The Nautiloid wreckage.


I lie confused as the morning dew clings to me like a sickness. Blood. I wipe off my sleeves, dried blood becoming muddied with the moisture and clinging more desperately to my hands as I wipe. Blood. I carefully roll to my feet and try to gather my senses. It's been a very disorienting night, but I'm still better off than I was. Blood. I am reminded of the tadpole behind my eye and my skin begins to crawl once again, but not as viscerally as before. Blood. Still, I need a healer as soon as possible, but where am I? I'm on the banks of a river, but the ruined Nautiloid obscures the coast. Blood.



Something about this feels familiar. Corpses. Corpses everywhere. The silence is a comfort to my disorientation, until I'm blinded by a glint in the distance. I hold up my hand, protecting my eyes, trying to gage what it is. Slowly, I move toward it, only to realize it's Shadowheart's body, mail shining in the morning light. Making it to her, I crouch and check her pulse. She's survived, thank the Gods. I reach out to wake her, but find myself brushing my fingers across her throat, giving a gentle squeeze. A faint crackling in my limbs yearns for violence. What poetry to survive impossible odds, only to be snuffed out by a madman on a beach. I quickly snatch my hand away. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for the briefest moment. My hand twitches rebelliously, as if disagreeing with my restraint. Insolent cunt. I focus and reach back out, gripping her shoulders and gently shaking her awake.


She stirs and looks up at me, "What's going on, how are we alive?"


"Don't you think that's the least of our worries?" I stand and once again offer my hand.


"True." She waves me off this time and gets to her feet, clutching at the satchel on her hip. "It is curious though." She eyes me, finally taking the time to get the measure of me. "I want to thank you for what you did for me on the Nautiloid. You could have left me behind, and for a moment I thought you had, but you came through for me. Foolish on your part, you could have died wasting precious time, but you did it all the same. That sacrifice is not lost on me."


A warm smile creeps across my face. "The bounty on your life is a humble one. Could you remove this tadpole from my head?" I gesture eagerly to my right eye, wanting desperately to be rid of this damned thing.


She gives me a pitiful smile. "As much as I would like to claim such lofty skills, unfortunately illithid parasite extraction is beyond my capabilities. I'll have to repay the debt another way."


My face falls, but I maintain a modicum of optimism, "In that case let's travel together. It seems we have a shared condition, and a shared objective. We can find a healer and help each other along the way." A fortunate circumstance to keep a cleric by my side.


She lifts her chin with dignity, and a flash of relief. She's smart enough to see how much benefit I'll be to her in return. "Agreed. Let's get clear of this mess and see if we can get a better idea of exactly where we are."

As we begin to clear the wreckage I see something moving, and duck down behind a piece of the broken hull. Shadowheart follows, murmuring, "Intellect devourers. I count three."


I'm struck with curiosity. "Hold on. Let me see if it's my little friend."


Shadowheart nods and gives me a moment. I gingerly reach out to the creatures, probing the rhythm of their minds. The discomfort of the tadpole wriggling behind my eye no longer gives me a full body reaction. I sense right away that they are hostiles, none of them hum in concert with me like Us did. I give Shadowheart a nod. "Cannon fodder."


She returns the acknowledgement and points to the platform we're crouched behind. "I'm going to position myself on this ledge and provide buffing and ranged attacks. I don't trust I'll be able to handle too many direct blows given how weakened I am right now."


"Good plan. I'll attack directly. As long as you can keep me going, I should be able to take them all down." I look across the open field, seeing a few bodies scattered about and one of the illithid tanks smashed and leaking. An intellect devourer sits in the caustic fluid, like a comforting bath. I put a hand on Shadowheart's back, "Once you get into position, reach out with the tadpole and give me the go ahead. I'm going to close in on that tank and see if I can ignite it. It should take out at least one of the brains right away."


Shadowheart recoils, "I don't really want to use the tadpole... can we use hand signals?"


I understand her reservations. "Of course. Signal me, and I'll move."


She nods, and climbs onto the platform, getting into position. Instinctively, I quietly remove my sabatons and lay them neatly near the platform. Shadowheart drops into position, then motions two fingers toward the tank. I move in, whisper quiet, my body knowing exactly how to carry itself. I remain unheard, and unseen. Strange for a paladin, but helpful now. As soon as I'm in range, I focus a blue flame into my palm and pitch it at the tank. A blessing from my Asmodeus heritage. It abruptly explodes, blowing apart the resting intellect devourer. The others are startled by the sudden eruption, and I'm able to quickly draw my greatsword. Shadowheart stands and casts a blessing on me. I'm enveloped by the cold silk of her power and suddenly feel unstoppable. I charge the brain closest to me, bringing my sword down onto its soft body. It squeals and writhes on the ground.


I'm blasted by a psionic force that blows me off my feet. The pain is unreal, a mental rending. I roll over and grip my head, trying to get to my feet. My limbs don't seem to want to play along. The intellect devourer did more damage than I'd realized, and it's closing in for a strike. In a blink, Shadowheart appears next to me, and her sudden appearance distracts the creature long enough for me to stand. Frustrated, I catch it on the edge of my blade, sliding my blade down the length of its body to split it wide open. It collapses into a pile of useless flesh. The last one I struck still wriggles and screams on the ground, trying desperately to find a way to its feet. Heart racing and flooded with joy, I pin it down with my boot. Watching with glee as it squishes and pops, slowly crushed beneath my weight. As it falls still, I close my eyes and sigh; I feel at peace. Soothed.


After a beat I turn to Shadowheart, "I thought you were going to stay off the field?"


She vanishes in a puff of smoke, and I look up to see her poke her head out from her perch. "I did." She gives me a mischievous smile and climbs down to me.


I can't help but laugh. "Clever trick! I'm impressed."


"I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve. Just be glad you've landed on my good side."


We finally clear the wreckage. "I knew the moment I saw you that you'd be dangerous. It seems my judgement was correct."


She is flattered at the recognition. "We make a good team. Where did you train?"


I take a moment to consider my answer. Do I even remember? No. "To be honest, a lot of my memories are lost to me before waking up on the Nautiloid. I'm not sure there's much about me that I can share. Have you experienced the same? Is it the tadpole?"


She looks down, "If it is the tadpole, I wouldn't know. I'm also missing a lot of my memories, but it happened before the Nautiloid."


A curious answer, "How so? Was it some sort of accident?"


She gives a gentle shake of her head and becomes more guarded with her answer. "No. It wasn't an accident, it's... complicated. This is neither the time nor place to get into it. Maybe one day I can lay it out for you, but let's stay focused on finding a healer for now."


There is no reason why she can't tell me now, we're walking, who knows how long it will take to find civilization. Either way I neither need to know, nor do I care at this juncture, so I let the matter drop.

Off in the distance we hear faint mewling calls for help. Shadowheart and I look at each other, both mutually skeptical. We cautiously approach, the man being unavoidable on the path. He's dressed in finer clothes, royal purples with golden filigree. A high elf with perfectly coiffed white curls and pale skin. It would not be worth doubling back for a helpless dandy. Still, something smells off about him.


"Hurry! I saw you two take down those brains, I've got another one cornered just here!"


They always have to come up with busy work, don't they? "You don't seem too concerned. How long have you been standing here with a cornered brain?"


He scowls at me, waving his hands in a very wristy manner, "Details-details, help me get rid of this thing before it escapes!"


I turn my attention to the reeds and see something moving. I focus on it, having not expected to see anything cornered.


Everything happens at once.


I hear Shadowheart sharply inhale and shout, "VASH!"


A wild boar dashes out from the reeds.


I feel the weight of a whole entire twink pulling me to the ground, dagger at my throat.



He's jumped on my back and used the momentum of his body to bring me down. Legs wrapped around my waist, arm wrapped under my shoulder, pinning my left arm over my head, restraining me. Half of me. He's clearly done this before, although his blade is hovering over my trachea. I don't need to breathe to break him in half before I die. If he's smart, or lucky, he'll nick my carotid artery before I get the chance.


He finally gets to the point of his little performance. "I saw you on the ship. You're one of those illithid thralls, aren't you?"


Fantastic, another lunatic dropped from the sky. I'm done. I grip the wrist of his daggered hand and pry it away from my neck. He cuts my throat, but it's superficial. Nowhere near enough to stop me from doing what I'm about to do to him. I'm suddenly interrupted by that familiar squirming in my skull. My little friend feeding me images as the elf screams and lets go of me, pressing his hands to his eyes. I roll off him, and I'm flooded with a lot of thoughts all at once. Vague notions of nights spent in the taverns of Baldur's Gate. Endless conquests, couched in a burning fear ripping through me.



Hungry... hungry.


I quickly pull myself from his mind as my heart begins to race. His mind is a carnival of suffering that I never want to see again.


He grips his head as the connection fades. His breath is heavy as we lay next to each other. Our eyes meet with mutual concern. "What in the hells?! Gods..." He stares at me a moment and says nothing. We climb to our feet, and I offer him a hand up. He takes it. "You're not... you're... what are you?" I have no idea what he saw, but it seems to have haunted him as much as his mind haunted me. He wisely decides to move past it, regaining his composure, taking up the air of a noble elf once again. "My apologies, my name is Astarion."


"Astarion, a pleasure. If I had been in your position I would have done the same. Vash Neel." I step forward and headbutt him right in the fucking forehead.


He staggers back, nearly falling over again, "NNGGHHHH!!" He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, "I suppose I deserved that..." He says under his breath, "Are we even?"


I nod, "We're even."


"Good..." He rubs his hands on the front of his gaudy shirt, and meets my eye, "So, maybe you would be so kind, oh beneficent one, to tell me what in the hells just happened."


"You're infected with an illithid tadpole, same as us." I gesture to Shadowheart. "Through them it seems we can link our minds. We're looking for a healer. I think... that is to say I'm fairly certain these tadpoles will turn us into mind flayers." Vestiges of that curious illithid knowledge of mine.


Astarion's eyes go wide, "Turn us into..." He suddenly breaks out into a fit of painful laughter that could only come from a marathon of torment culminating in this moment of absolute absurdity. His voice finally softens into a self-loathing resolve. "Of course it will turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"


I stare down at him, this broken man. Alone. Nothing to lose. Great at ambushes. Has knives. "You can travel with us if you promise to behave. I can't imagine you'll find another group roaming around with tadpoles in their skulls. We can help each other out."


He takes a moment to consider the offer, "Prudent." He rubs his forehead and then resigns himself to the idea, "I guess traveling in numbers will increase my odds at getting through this. I'd be a fool to turn you down."



"I appreciate you gracing my company with your presence." I give him a snarky smile as flashes of his rotting corpse suddenly flood my mind.

I can smell the river of gore flowing from his corpse and I begin to salivate. If he becomes a nuisance maybe we can indulge ourselves. I push the thoughts from my mind and try not to allude to the vile images gracing my imagination. I take a breath and give the word, "Onward, then." I nod to Shadowheart, and she nods in return. Her hand gripping the hilt of her mace. We're going to have to keep an eye on this one.


The only path forward leads us through more wreckage where we see a mind flayer corpse pinned beneath a large fragment of the hull. As we pass, we feel a sudden psionic pulse that batters our tadpoles like a death throe that brings us all to our knees. The mind flayer flails beneath the wreckage, still living, desperate, begging for help. How fortunate it's found a generous Paladin who is yearning to play the savior. I'm used to my tadpole squirming at this point, but my companions writhe on the ground, helpless. "Steel yourselves. You'll do yourself a favor getting used to it sooner rather than later."


I kneel next to the mind flayer and watch its beady soulless eyes. Illithids are vile extraterrestrial humanoids. An unsettling farce to the natural order of things. Tall, lanky, reliant too much on their psionic power. Conical skulls, with tentacles dangling from their putrid faces. I can't help but reflect a look of disgust as I appraise the situation. I finally grip its face, pull it down, and expose the top of its head. I unsheathe my greatsword and place the tip of it on the seam of the skull and slowly push my sword through the bone. It makes a satisfying pop as I puncture its cranium. I keep pushing straight through the brain, down its wretched neck and into its body. The ripping, popping, and squelching as I ruin its body sends shivers down my spine. The creature screeches and squirms, its arms flailing, eyes roll back into its head. It unfortunately perishes quickly. I sigh and pull my sword out; its dark metal coated in silver illithid blood. I rummage through its pockets and grab a few void bulbs, stowing them in my cloak.


I stand and flick the blood off my sword, "That was satisfying." I turn to my companions. Astarion and Shadowheart are up and shaking off the mental assault well. "Let's move on. Don't forget to check the dead for supplies."


Astarion puts his hand on his hip and waves his finger at me inquisitively, "You're a paladin, right? What was the nature of your oath?"


Shadowheart gestures toward me, "He doesn't remember anything before the crash I doubt he remembers the specifics of his oath."


"You're right. I have no recollection of what my oath used to be, but I seem to be empowered by a God, as opposed to any personal conviction. Someone out there favors me. True to my condition, though, I don't have a clue as to who."


Astarion claps his hands excitedly, "Oooo, a tall, dark, and mysteriously oathless paladin! How exciting! I'd rather have a wild card on my hands than Oath of the Ancients or..." he gags lightly, "Oath of Devotion." He abruptly grabs my arm, hanging off me with wry curiosity, "Tell me, do you feel particularly vengeance-y?"


I laugh and gently tap my thumb to his forehead. He tries not to show the flinch, but I feel it. I gift him a small pulse of healing light, and the vague bruise from my headbutt disappears. He gingerly rubs the spot, looking confused, like he hasn't felt a modicum of empathy in an age. I grab his shoulder, "I promise not to be a stick in the mud, if that's your concern."


He looks up at me, his face falling back into his default snark. "Always. There's nothing more insufferable than an oathbound paladin."


I nod my head beckoning them onward, "Let's keep going. There's got to be civilization close by, especially since we're this close to a river."

We clear the wreckage, getting our first real breath of fresh air. My shoulders begin to relax as we step onto a dirt path that hopefully leads to this promised civilization. Shadowheart and I are digging through a few goblin corpses as Astarion allows us to indulge in looting, opting not to get his nails dirty. I hear a strange grinding noise in the distance and stand to get a better look. I see chaotic sparks flying from an open portal on the side of a cliff face along the path. I begin to walk towards it when I feel grasping hands on my arm again.


"Darling. You can't be serious. You're not going to meddle with that hell hole, are you? It's screaming danger, and here you are, a moth to a flame. You can't be that dense." Astarion doesn't understand how his mockery feeds me.


A broad smile crosses my face, and I place my hand over his. "If I get killed, there will be one less jackass in Faerûn."


He scoffs, "If you get killed, I lose my meat shield."


I laugh abruptly. He's got me on that one. I gently grip his fingers and detach him from my arm. "Stand back, if it'll make you feel better."


He rolls his eyes, "You really didn't have to give me permission, I was planning on doing that anyway."


I glance over at Shadowheart and she folds her arms, "Do what you want, but I agree with Astarion. Whatever it is, it's nothing to do with us. But we're certainly not going to stop you." I can see the reserved grin on her face; she wants to see what will happen as bad as Astarion. I like their sense of mischief.


At that moment a hand pops out of the broken portal, "It's safe, I promise! However, I could use some assistance from a kind traveler to pull this poor wizard out of here!"


I slowly approach; the damned thing is seething with weave. I can't focus; I need to settle its roaring mania. I hold out my hand and begin to push myself into the chaos, unraveling the thrashing of magic.


The Wizard's voice sounds hopeful and excited. "Yes! Yes, keep doing that! You should be able to pull me out now!" The hand grasps at the air, desperate.


Something turns over in my stomach, and I feel a strong surge of crackling weave pulling up through my back, planting itself firmly in my mind. I become delirious, I'm grinding my teeth, and my blood screams. Take. Cut. Amputate this branch of flesh. Take it... RIP. TEAR. CRACK CRACK CRACK. SUCK THE MARROW FROM ITS BONES. It feels overwhelming, and my heart yearns to obey. I try to maintain my balance, and my hands begin twitching once again. These spells of madness are becoming a nuisance. Maiming this man in front of the others isn't going to foster any trust between us. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and relax my body. After a few moments, my mind is settled, and I return to myself.


I look back at the hand and hear the pathetic voice once again, "Hello?"



"Hold tight." We grasp each other's wrists, and I can tell from that instant he will not be relinquished without a fight. Despite my rancid desires, I might end up ripping his arm off either way. I brace my footing, grip his arm with both my hands, and bend my knees for better leverage. I pull. He tries to keep his grip on me, but his sweaty hand slips out, and I'm thrown to the ground.


I sit up and feel Astarion crouch down and grip my shoulders from behind. Amped up by my failed attempt, he goads me on, breath cold against my ear. "You're not going to let the howling death hole win, are you? Get up and try it again!"


I snort and stand, pushing him over. He laughs as he lands on his ass. I hold out my hand. "Give me your kerchief."


He looks up at me, grinning and rubbing his bottom. "What makes you assume I have one of those?"


I gesture to him, "All of your everything."


He scoffs and produces the kerchief, lacy and decadent. I take it and walk back to the beckoning hand. I wipe off the sweaty palm, then tie our wrists together. This time, as I pull, I feel him shift. With a final yank he comes flying out, knocking me to the ground once again. He lands on top of me, but luckily, he's a slight wizard, only human. He groans as he fights against his aching knees to stand. Donning weathered robes, long tawny hair, and a modestly kept beard. He looks like he hasn't left his home in days. He hands me back the kerchief and helps me to my feet. "Friend, I cannot express how grateful I am for pulling me out of that stone. Please, my name is Gale of Waterdeep."


I glance back at Astarion, "Thanks for not trying to kill me. Like a gentleman." Astarion throws his hands in the air and pouts. I turn my attention back to Gale. "Vash Neel, very nice to meet you."


Gale looks at the two of us and decides to let that jab stay between the two of us. "Mmmm... seems tense. I can't help but mention, you were a captive on the Nautiloid, am I right?"


"I was, yes." He's clearly no thrall, so the next question is obvious. "Were you infected as well?"


"Indeed. A most unfortunate fate for us all. With these tadpoles in our brains, we're at risk of changing into illithids. It's a process called ceramorphosis, and it's something I'd rather like to avoid."


I give him a welcoming smile. "Of course. We are on a quest to find a healer for ourselves. You're welcome to join us." Add another to the tally. A wizard is always a boon.


Gale smiles brightly, "I certainly have stumbled across the best-case scenario for myself. I am grateful once again! Let's be on our way then, no use in hanging around here."



We've become quite a collection of odd characters. A dark cleric, a recluse wizard, and some flavor of bastard. Admittedly, falling for Astarion's damsel in distress trick was rather embarrassing, I hope it will be worth keeping him around.


As we walk up a dusty path, we hear a frantic conversation between a man and a woman. Two tiefling scouts, and they have something trapped in a crude cage hanging from a rocky outcropping.


"What is she, Damays? Some sort of hobgoblin?"


"I think it's another one of those Githyanki raiders. The ones Zorru mentioned after he came back from his scouting trip."


She looks up at the Gith with wariness, "Didn't they kill Yul?"


Damays nods solemnly, "Keep your distance, and be on your guard, Nymessa."


As we approach, Damays is the first to spot us. "Oh! A friend!" He lowers his guard. "What brings you so far out in these wilds? Are you also from Elturel?"


The name Elturel rings a bell, but it sparks no personal memories for me. I recall vague stories about a holy city being pulled into Avernus and then restored after some grand heroic gesture. "No, I am not a refugee. I'm a little travel weary so forgive me if I don't have much to offer by way of courtesy. Do you know what river this is? We're trying to get our bearings." I gesture toward the water.


Nymessa smiles, "That's the Chionthar. You must be quite lost if you didn't know that."


I nod solemnly. "Quite. I'm also looking for a healer, do you know if there is a village nearby that might be able to aid us?" I glance up at their captive and realize it's Lae'zel. I don't flinch, turning my attention back to the tieflings.


Damays hesitates but trusts me as kin. "Yes. Just around the bend there is a druid's grove. The entrance is covered in ivy, inside you will be able to find Nettie. She should be able to help."


I nod politely when I suddenly feel the worm stirring in my head. I hear a voice surge into my mind with fury. "Enough chatter, get rid of them."


Without flinching I smile at the two tieflings, "Wonderful. I couldn't help but notice your captive is a gith warrior. I've dealt with their kind before. Allow me to take care of her, you two continue with your duties. I'm sure you have better things to do."


Damays hesitates, reluctant to leave the creature in my care, "She's dangerous. I want to be sure she's taken care of. She might call others and put the whole grove at risk."


He clearly didn't hear me the first time. I walk up to him, and put my hand on his shoulder, gripping tightly, looking down at him. Damays bristles as he meets my eye. I smile once more with a soft, placating menace. "Brother. Go."


Another moment passes and he looks at Nymessa, the concern seeping into her. "Let's go Nymessa. I'm sure he can handle it."


I release my hold on him, and he stumbles as he and Nymessa scurry off down the path.



Lae'zel's impatient tone splits the peace of the morning. "Get me down!"


I smirk and cross my arms, "Pretty demanding for a woman in your position. Say please."


Her nostrils flair and she lifts her chin with pride. "Never!"


Astarion lets out a laugh, and I pull out my greatsword, shaking my head. As I approach, Lae'zel braces herself, ready for a fight. "Calm yourself and watch your feet." I cut the rope that's lashed together the bottom of her hanging cage. It abruptly opens and she comes spilling out in a clatter of silver armor.


She shakes herself off and quickly stands, "A clever diversion, it seems you are more useful than I assumed."


"Am I? And what about you? Trapped in a cage by a couple of scouts, and where's your sword?"


Her pride is wounded, "You were not there, it was an ambush. I did not assume your people had the wits for something even as crude as that."


I nod condescendingly, "Of course, of course." At that I turn to the others. "This is Lae'zel, she helped Shadowheart and I escape the Nautiloid. Lae'zel, this is Astarion and Gale."


She scoffs, "We don't have time for this. We must find a cure for these parasites. We must find a creche!"


Sheathing my sword, I probe her. "And a creche is...?"


"It is many things, but most importantly, it is where we will find a zaith'isk. A machine built by my people for the sole purpose of curing us of these tadpoles."


Yet another bout of good fortune. Gale leans in. "And do you think your creche would care to help all of us? If I recall correctly, your people aren't exactly welcoming to outsiders."


"You are with me. If you assist me in finding a creche, I will ensure that you will be cured. You have my word."


Gale nods, satisfied at the direct answer.


I look down the path, in the direction of this supposed grove. "Those two refugees mentioned Zorru, it seems he saw some gith raiders. Perhaps we can find him at that grove. While there, we can talk to Nettie as well."


Lae'zel looks at me indignantly. "The only way we can be purified is with a zaith'isk, any other venture will be a waste of time."


My voice cuts with authority, recognizing now that Lae'zel needs a firm hand. "We will not leave any stone unturned when it comes to getting these tadpoles out of our heads. If you think you can go it alone, then be my guest."


She stares me down, letting the silence stretch as she walks over to the brush next to me. I look down, seeing the hell sword lying uselessly on the ground. She grabs it and finally comes to a decision. "Fine." She slides it into her sheath, "Onward then."


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Chpt 3. The Grove ->