Chpt 2. Collectibles
Trigger Warning: Threats of Violence > Mild Violence > Play stupid games win stupid prizes.
I wake up with a gasp, as if being raised by the dead. Sky. Land. I've landed. How? As I painfully lift myself to my feet my brain splits and throbs behind my eyes and a single word prevails in my mind, "Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood." My skin is crawling, it's maddening, I need to find a healer as soon as possible, but where am I? There is a river to my right but the shoreline is unfamiliar, and the ruined Nautiloid around me isn't helping me get my bearings. There are bodies scattered everywhere, but I see a glint in the distance. As I approach it, I recognize a familiar face. Shadowheart, her mail gleaming in the sun, but she appears to be unconscious. I kneel and check for a pulse, she's still alive. I reach to wake her but hesitate, the thought crosses my mind, she looks so peaceful. She would look far more peaceful if she were dead. A small pulse of calm as I reach for her throat. No. Why does the thought settle the torrent in my heart? It's a wonder we survived at all, and she could still be useful. My vision goes out of focus for a moment and then suddenly I'm back, but my hands are twitching. I push past the foul urge and gently shake her awake.
She stirs and looks up at me, "What is going on, how are we alive?"
"Does it matter? We have more important things to focus on. We need to do something about these worms in our head."
"True." She gets to her feet, and once again clutches at the satchel on her hip and a subtle wave of relief washes over her face, "Let's travel together then, we can find a healer and help each other along the way."
"Agreed. Let's get clear of the wreckage and see if we can get a better idea of exactly where we are."
We make our way through shattered sections of the chitinous hull when we are attacked by surviving Intellect Devourers. Shadowheart runs up onto a ledge to gain an advantage on the mongrels. As I pull out my greatsword one charges me and tries to swipe but I'm able to dodge, while another hits me directly in my aching head with a psionic blast. Frustrated, I swing at the brain in front of me and catch it with the edge of my sword, its soft body getting caught up in the momentum of my strike and sliding across the length of my blade. It falls limp on the ground, a puddle of useless tissue. Shadowheart shoots a guiding bolt at one of the brains that had turned its attention to her. It hits and bursts into unholy flames, squealing, writhing, and falling silent. The last one charges me like the first and as it jumps to strike, I catch it under my boot. I watch the damned thing wriggle, squeal, and pop as I slowly crush it. The headache subsides; my skin calms, and I feel at peace. Soothed.
Shadowheart jogs up beside me as we continue, "You fight well, 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. Haven't you been experiencing the same? Maybe it's 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, and I know for certain it's not because of the tadpole."
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 and casual calls for help. As Shadowheart and I walk up the bank we see a man standing by some reeds. He's dressed in finer clothes, royal purples with golden filigree. A high elf with perfectly coiffed white curls and pale skin.
"Hurry, I've got one of those brain things cornered."
"You don't seem too concerned. How long have you been standing here with a cornered brain?"
He scowls at me, "Details details, help me get rid of this thing before it escapes."
I glance through the reeds and see something moving.
Suddenly I hear Shadowheart sharply inhale and shout, "VASH!"
A wild boar dashes out from the bushes and in that instance, I feel the momentum of an entire body pulling me to the ground.
He has his legs wrapped around my waist and his arm undermine, with the other holding a dagger to my throat, "I saw you on the ship. You're one of those illithid thralls, aren't you?"
With my free arm I grab the daggered hand and begin to pull it away. He manages to cut my neck superficially when our struggle is interrupted by an abrupt squirming in our skulls. The elf screams and let's go of me, suddenly pressing his hands against 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. I feel a burning fear rip through me, not the light... never the light.
He writhes on the ground before being able to orient himself again, "What in the hells?!" He shakes his head, "Gods..." He slowly climbs to his feet, "You're not with them... I could have sworn." He finally regains his composure, taking up the air of a noble elf once again. "My apologies, my name is Astarion."
I stand and brush off my cloak in futility, blood smeared across my neck, blood still covering me from the previous battles, "Astarion, a pleasure. If I had been in your position I would have done the same." I step forward with an outstretched hand, "My name is Vash Neel." As he takes my hand, I quickly pull him in 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... so maybe you would be so kind, Ser Knight, to tell me what in the hells just happened."
"You're infected with an illithid tadpole, same as us." I gesture to Shadowheart.
Astarion offers a graceful nod toward her.
I continue, "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."
Astarion's eyes go wide, "Turn us into..." He suddenly breaks out into a fit of pained laughter that could only come from a marathon of torment culminating in this moment of absolute absurdity. "Of course it will turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"
I cross my arms, "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, "Alright, I accept. Lead on."
I smile pleasantly as flashes of his rotting corpse suddenly flood my mind.
- Day 1 : His body begins to cool, Livor Mortis and Rigor Mortis set in.
- Days 2-6 : Gut bacteria begins to break down the inside of the body cavity, it produces methane and hydrogen sulfide. The body swells and the skin turns green, marbles, and blisters. Fluids begin to leak from the corpse.
- Days 5-11 : Liquidation continues as cells erode due to lack of oxygen. Brain and bowels continue to leak. The skin turns black. Maggots are typically present at this stage.
- Days 10-20 : Bones begin to show as soft tissue is sloughed away and eaten by the remaining insects.
I can just about smell the river of gore flowing from him. My mouth begins to salivate. If he becomes a nuisance maybe we can indulge ourselves, but not right now. I shake the thought from my head and we press on. What the fuck is wrong with me?
We pass through more wreckage, and as we do we see a mind flayer pinned beneath pieces of the hull, alive. It sees us approach and reaches out with psionic energy, vague cries for help as a subtle feeling of love runs through me. I look at my companions, "Indulge me."
Astarion waves me on encouragingly, "By all means."
They watch as I walk up to it, grab the tentacles protruding from its face, pull its head downward exposing the top of its cranium. I pull out my sword and place the tip of it directly on the seam of the skull in the middle of his head and slowly push my sword through the bone, straight through the brain, down it's wretched neck and into its body. As I do this, the creature screeches and squirms, its arms flailing. Its eyes roll back into its head and it quickly perishes. I pull my sword out, covered in silver illithid blood. Another sudden surge of calm as I savor the creature's demise. My only regret is that it died so quickly. 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, again, a futile gesture, "Let's move on. Don't forget to check the dead for supplies."
Astarion puts his hands on his hips, "What was the nature of your oath again?"
Shadowheart gestures toward me, "He doesn't remember anything before the crash I doubt he remembers the specifics of his oath."
"A fair assumption, but back on the Nautiloid I had a moment of divine intervention. I was told my purpose is vengeance. I don't know how I ended up on that ship, but it was not by accident. Someone did something to me, I intend to find out who."
Astarion claps his hands excitedly, "A vengeance paladin! Those are always so much more fun. Less uptight than Oath of the Crown or..." he gags lightly, "Oath of Devotion."
I laugh and walk over to him placing a hand on his shoulder, Astarion flinches but a faint pulse of blue light courses from my hand straight through his body and the vague bruise forming on his head disappears.
Astarion gingerly rubs his forehead, the pain is gone, "Thank you." He looks like he's trying to process how to feel about the kind gesture.
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."
As we finally make our way out of the wreckage we hear a strange grinding noise, and chaotic sparks flying from an open portal on the side of a cliff face along the path. We give it a wide birth but as I glance at it there seems to be something moving inside. I decide to take a closer look, but Astarion grabs my arm, "What are you, crazy? That thing looks like it could disintegrate you."
Shadowheart chimes in, "I agree, whatever it is, it's nothing to do with us."
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 shake myself free from Astarion's grip and slowly approach, I test the volatility of the portal by slapping the hand. The voice returns, "A-ha, very funny, but I'm in a rather desperate situation, so if you could pull me out sooner rather than later, I promise I will play patty cake all you want out of sheer gratitude."
Something turns over in my stomach and the headache returns, pressing behind my eyes. It happens suddenly but with a greater force than before. My mind ebbing and churning, my blood screaming. Take it. Cut it. Dismember this branch of flesh. Take it... RIP. TEAR. CRACK CRACK CRACK. SUCK THE MARROW FROM IT'S BONES. It feels overwhelming and irresistible, and my heart yearns to obey. I try to maintain my balance, my hands twitching once again, these spells of madness are becoming a nuisance. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and relax my body. After several moments the voices quell, and I return to myself.
I look back at the hand and hear the pathetic voice once again, "Hello?"
I muster my strength and grab him by the arm; I can tell he's stuck fast. I brace my feet and pull hard. He begins to shift and then as if released by some jealous entity he comes flying out of the portal, the momentum throws us both to the ground. He's a slight wizard, weathered robes, long tawny hair and a modestly kept beard, like he hadn't left his home in an age. He groans as he fights against his aching knees to stand. After composing himself he holds out his hand, "Friend, I cannot express how grateful I am for pulling me out of that stone. Please, my name is Gale."
I take his hand, and he helps me to my feet, "Vash Neel, very nice to meet you." I glance back at Astarion as if to emphasize how proper introductions are made. He throws his hands in the air and pouts.
Gale nods politely in return, "A real pleasure, but I've seen you before. You were on the Nautiloid as well!"
"I was, yes. Were you also infected with an illithid tadpole?"
"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."
Gale smiles brightly, "I certainly have stumbled across the best-case scenario for myself. I am grateful once again! Please, lead the way."
We've become quite a collection of odd characters. A dark cleric, a recluse wizard, and I'm fairly certain Astarion is a rogue. A rather good one with how he took me down, although falling for the damsel in distress trick was rather embarrassing. As we walk up a dusty path, two Tiefling scouts have something trapped in a crude cage hanging from a rocky outcropping that is jutting out over the trail. As we approach, I hear one of the scouts addressing the other frantically.
"What is she, Damays? She looks dangerous."
"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, brother? Did you also come from Elturel?"
The name Elturel rings a bell, but it sparks no personal memories for me, only vague stories about a holy city being pulled into Avernus, but these are only memories of stories, not experience, "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. I'm looking for a healer, do you know if there is a village nearby that might be able to aid us?"
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. It doesn't make me flinch as hard as before; I'm getting used to the worm. I hear a voice surge into my mind with fury, ~Enough chatter, get rid of them.~ It is Lae'zel from the Nautiloid.
I smile cheekily and cross my arms as I glance up at her, responding telepathically in kind, ~Say please."~
"A-HA!" Astarion cackles and quickly covers his mouth to stifle the laugh. He was privy to our conversation.
Damays and Nymessa look at each other.
Lae'zel stands tall and puffs out her chest out with the pride of a true Gith warrior. ~NEVER~
I shake my head and then turn to the two Tieflings, "Your captive is dangerous, but nothing short of what I've handled in the past." I pull out my greatsword, "Let me take care of her, you two continue with your duties. I'm sure you have better things to do."
Damays bows his head in gratitude, "Thank you, Ser Knight. Nymessa, come." The two scurry off to continue scouting the area.
I turn back to Lae'zel and I see her get into a battle stance as she eyes my sword, "Calm yourself and watch your feet." I walk up and stick my sword through the wooden bars that make up the floor of her hanging cage. I cut through a few key ropes, and the bottom abruptly opens, Lae'zel crumples to the ground 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 with no weapons on hand."
Her pride is wounded by my words, "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 that's all it was." 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."
Lae'zel 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 assure that you will be cured. You have my word."
Gale nods, satisfied.
I look back at where Damays and Nymessa ran off to, "Those two refugees mentioned Zorru, it seems he saw some gith raiders, hopefully we can find him in that grove they mentioned. 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, "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."
Lae'zel stares me down and a moment passes as she considers my words. She walks over to the brush next to me and I look down finally seeing the hell sword, hidden from view. She picks it up, "Fine." And slides it into her sheath, "Onward then."