"B-Boss?"
Karlach is left in Bex and Shadowheart's care as I confront the goblins on the road. Some of them have armed themselves and are staring me down with goblin menace.
"Yeah, that's the Boss, init?" A goblin wearing a worg skin lowers her bow.
A few of the goblins follow her and settle.
Another goblin steps up to me, poking me in the leg. "If you're the Boss, prove it! I ain't going to cow to any jack on the road!"
"Shrewd of you." I lift my hand and show them the brand.
"I told you!" A goblin wearing tin armor shoves him aside. "What can we do for you, Boss?"
Good, a few reasonable creatures. "Where are you coming from?"
He points back up the road. "We just came from Waukeen's Rest! Just got done raid'n the place. Dror Ragzlin is going to be mighty proud."
"Waukeen's Rest?" The smoke wasn't from the Gnolls, it was from the raid.
"Yeah! The Absolute wanted a Duke captured! Some drow fuckers slapped a hood over his head and dragged him away, probably back to Mistress Minthara!"
Several goblins chortle victoriously. "And we get the spoils!"
Down the road there is a stony gate, and the haze seems to get thicker. Bex comes up to me and hands me my cloak. I glance at her with gratitude and throw it over my shoulders. It's still warm from Karlach's inferno.
The goblins begin to chatter amongst themselves once I put my cloak on. "Yeah-yeah. That's him. That's Boss."
I straighten my lips. "Did you see any Githyanki while you were there?"
The tin-clad goblin scratches his head. “Gith- what?”
“Silver armor, green complexion. Tall, skinny fighters.”
The goblins look at each other and fidget. "Eh." The tin-clad goblin speaks again. "There was a bunch of Flaming Fist holed up in the Inn, that’s all we know."
Another goblin jumps in, gleefully. "But we lit the place on fire, so we won't have to worry about them for much longer!"
Flaming Fist. Mercenaries from Baldur's Gate. What in the hells are they doing all the way out here? An escort for the Duke, no doubt, but why?
Bex looks at me sharply and then begins to run toward the gate.
I shout at the goblins as I chase after her. "Take your spoils and get back to camp!"
Running off to be a hero again. Hopefully she’ll at least assess before inserting herself.
We rush through the gate and see the Inn nearly fully engulfed.
A few Flaming Fist are pushing at the door to the Inn. Next to them is Gale, looking at us desperately. "Vash! Help us! There are people trapped inside!"
One of the Flaming Fists interjects. "We need to get Counsellor Florrick out!"
A Counsellor. Gods damn it. Measuring the value of a life against a burning fucking building.
"Get back." I'm already exhausted. I throw my hood over my head and charge the door, battering it in with the full weight of my body. It bursts apart and I'm thrown back, landing hard against a well in the center of the square.
Bex dashes over with a healing potion, but I hold up my hand. "Save it for now." She helps me to my feet and I notice my hand trembling again. I ignore it for now and focus on Bex. "Sit this one out?"
She smirks. "Someone's got to stay alive to babysit the druids."
Gale and the two Flaming Fists rush in ahead of me. I duck down low; the building filled with thick smoke. How the fuck am I going to find—
"Help! Someone!"
Upstairs. Of course. The worst place to be.
I crawl my way up the stairs, the heat intensifying, the smoke getting thicker. My eyes are stinging and I begin to cough. I make it to the top landing and listen.
"By Helm's Grace, Please! Someone!"
I crawl my way to another blocked door, placing the back of my hand against the wood. Hot, but not untouchable. The person on the other side suddenly begins kicking it with wild desperation.
"Get down!" I just barely choke out the words and volley three missiles at the door. It's knocked free from its hinges and a woman in a violet dress tries to frantically climb the debris.
"Counsellor!" We make our way to each other, and I drag her into my arms. The red sparks of the Weave are charged around me. "Close your eyes. Hold your breath." I stand, head deep in thick smoke, and launch myself through an open window.
We glide down, and land unsteadily near the well. I lay her down. Bex has a bucket of water ready.
I begin splashing water to clear the smoke from my eyes, while Bex daubs a wet kerchief against the Counsellor's forehead.
She sputters and coughs.
"Counsellor. Are you alright?" Bex makes sure she's laid flat. The Counsellor's hair and dress are half burnt.
A wheeze comes up from the Counsellor's throat. "Thank you." She manages to breathe out feebly.
I look toward the burning Inn and see two Flaming Fist carrying a few of their brethren on their shoulders. Seems we have more survivors.
Gale comes out, red eyed but fortified in his resolve, another Flaming Fist leaning on his shoulder. Good man indeed.
Bex comes up to me and puts a hand on my arm. I turn to the mercenaries. "If you like, we have a camp nearby. You can stay with us for the night and recover."
The Counsellor looks at her people and then gives me a silent nod. I look at the two able-bodied Fists. "Make a few litters for the feeble. The rest of you are good to walk, yes?" I see a few subtle nods.
We hear shouting from another part of the Inn. Another survivor is trapped on the second story, in a section of the Inn not yet engulfed.
Bex and Gale stay behind to assist while I dash up the steps, making my way down a narrow corridor. A man is pinned under some collapsed beams.
"Help me! Please! I-I'm trapped!"
I'm able to pull a few small boards free, clearing the path to reach him. He pushes against the heavy timber, but it does not yield. The flames grow near.
He looks to be a local man. An unfortunate situation. My voice drops, settling into a soothing hum. "What is your name?"
"What!?" he grunts as he continues to struggle. "Just... help me get these beams off me! Please!"
My gaze is unwavering as he gasps and squirms with frantic exasperation. "B-Benryn. My name is Benryn."
I lift the beams pinning him, shift them, and drop them onto his chest.
He coughs, having the breath knocked out of him. "Wh-What..." He can barely speak.
I stoop down next to him and weave my fingers through his. "We'll get you free, Sir. Just relax." I am quiet as the flames reach his feet.
He is slowly engulfed. A stilted screech escapes him, shrill and curdled.
Only once the flames have claimed him do I shout, frantic. "Gale! Come quickly!"
In a clatter I hear Gale rushing up the stairs. He finally sees the burning man and I breathe heavily, my hands useless in front of me. "Please Gale! I don't know any spells that can help him! Do you know any ice spells! Do you have any water!?"
Gale stammers, seeing the burning man. "Even if I did, he..." His eyes do not break from the writhing man, and he begins to dry heave.
I lower my hands and watch him steady himself.
He draws a sleeve across his mouth and volleys three missiles at the man's head. He is battered to death—silent and still.
Gale leaves without another word.
I follow him down, morose, and return to the Flaming Fist. They are all nursing their wounds, but they are safe.
Gale sits cross legged next to the Counsellor, pale, and quietly holding her hand. He barely glances at me and murmurs. "I want to keep scouting for Lae'zel, do you mind escorting them?"
I give him a nod. "Not at all. Keep going, Gale, you know where to find us."
He dips his head in gratitude and drifts out of the square, haunted but persistent.
Bex and I help them finish a few makeshift litters, and lead the Flaming Fist back to camp.
When we arrive, Astarion is clinging to me as I direct their settling. They're able to set up bedrolls, and rest, nursing their wounds.
One of the Fists hands Counsellor Florick some water, and she drinks readily.
His voice is low, trying to keep his pleas between us. "Was it really all that necessary to play host to these..." He looks around before focusing back on me. "…these thugs."
"Haven't had the best experiences with the Flaming Fist, I'm guessing."
"Absolutely not. Their righteous cause to protect Baldur's Gate is about as corruptible as a Kobold's honor. Just flash a little coin and point the finger. I don't trust them."
"They're only staying the night. I'm sure they'll be anxious to get marching by dawn."
He scoffs. "I'm holding you to that. If you need me, I'll be in my tent." He begins to walk but pauses, touching the cuff of my sleeve. "Visit if you want, darling." That roguish smile of his curls his pretty lips.
I shake my head, matching his grin.
"Lae'zel!" Danis' voice rings startled and relieved. I turn to see Shovel hopping victoriously, followed closely by the woman herself.
She is walking with a limp, her armor scuffed and muddy. Even so, she approaches with dignity, masking a hint of embarrassment.
"Must you send your wretched fiend to fetch me?" Her words cut, but I have no time for her bruised ego.
I close the gap between us. "I will send my wretched fiend to collect any renegade that abandons her company in the middle of a battle."
"T'chk! It was for the good of the company that I made the determination to scout!"
"You do not move without consulting me. Because of your recklessness, we've lost a day." My voice hammers her, but lands bluntly against her stubbornness.
For a long moment there is an unspoken animosity between us.
I finally feel Shovel tugging my trouser leg. "Shovel brought the green lady. Special prize now?"
"Tonight, Shovel. Feed now if you must, but save room for later. Now go."
She scurries off, gleefully screeching about meat.
Lae'zel favors her steady ankle, arms crossed, shoulders slightly tense.
I begin to debrief her. "What do you have to report?"
She tilts her head up. "I've tracked the gnolls to a cave system just east of here. Their leader is a large, armored gnoll, who is tadpoled. She has a war band of seven that may still prove a danger to us on the road."
"The only reconnaissance you bring me is more gnolls to the east?"
"No."
My tail twitches impatiently. "What else, then?"
She shifts slightly, briefly relieving her foot before continuing. "I spotted a red dragon. It flew north, and I found my people guarding a bridge toward a mountain pass. I did not confront them." She stumbles in her cadence and shifts once more. "However, they are not far. We should go there at once." Her gaze falters, as if her statement were a plea.
I lean in. "Better."
She breathes and looks away.
Shadowheart jogs up to her. "Here, use my shoulder for balance."
Lae'zel leans on Shadowheart as she sends a pulse of healing light through her ankle.
I crouch next to Astarion's tent. "Astarion, come with us. We're headed to the mountain pass."
Astarion peeks out from his tent. "Walking?" His tone is theatrically exhausted.
"Yes. Walking."
I turn to Bex and pull out one of the sending stones from the Grove. "In case anything happens, we'll have a way to reach each other."
Danis glances at it curiously, as I pass it to her. She shakes her head. "I'm not coming with you?" She tries not to sound disappointed.
"We'll be dealing with Gith raiders. It's nothing you need to worry about for now. It's better we have people here to help the Flaming Fist."
Her eyes subtly flick to Astarion, who is hovering around me. "Okay."
We follow behind Lae'zel as she leads us to the Mountain Pass.
"So," Astarion speaks innocently, which is never good. "What did you and Bex... talk about?"
"When I recruited her, she told me she had been a ranger up until the Descent. Being a baker made me overestimate her abilities. It cost me." I press my fingers into my shoulder again.
"And yet you're not kicking her out. It's not like you need her. She's not tadpoled."
He's watching me closely.
"No. I am not kicking her out. Despite her transgression, she was a great asset in how she handled the Druids."
"Mhm." He nods with a smarmy grin.
I glance at him with a vague smile. "What?"
"Seems like you're putting a lot of effort into forgiving her." He looks me up and down. "Should I be worried?"
"About what?"
He pouts. "Stop playing games, Vash. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"My harem of tiefling women who are supposedly replacing you?" My tail twitches slightly and I speak in a flat tone. "She's married."
A cruel laugh rattles his words. "Oh please! I'm not going to believe for a minute something as trivial as that would keep you from taking what you want."
I stop, my brow knitting as I watch him walk past. "Astarion."
He pauses and glances over his shoulder. "Yes, darling?"
I walk up to him, placing the bend of my finger under his chin.
He is anchored to my presence.
My voice dips into a lull, bringing his lips to mine. "She could never replace you."
I lean down, kissing him tenderly, savoring him once again.
He closes his eyes, placing his fingers on my cheek. Taking only enough to soothe before breaking away. His gaze searches me before responding softly. "Good."
Smoke from Waukeen's Rest drifts past us on a modest breeze. We finally make it to an outlook that surveys two bridges crossing into the mountains.
It’s a wooden structure that passes over the road, likely once used as a checkpoint. The red dragon Lae'zel followed sits noble and ancient on the edge of the mountain cliff. Dead human soldiers are scattered across the road, along with the aged corpses of several tiefling scouts. A small unit of Githyanki are gathered just beyond the outlook.
I see movement. Gale is crouching next to a tiefling scout, still alive and well hidden. They're both positioned near the top of the outlook. He's engaged in a conversation with her, not noticing our approach.
I send a quick psionic pulse to him. His shoulders shudder, and he quickly looks back at us. His eyes go wide and he excuses himself from the scout. She goes her own way, scurrying down a trail and out of sight.
"Lae'zel!" He grips her arm.
Her eyes shift from him to her feet. "Apologies for running off. I was following a lead."
"Oh no! No need to apologize. I trust what you found was valuable. But—" His fingers gently press into her. "I'm glad to see you've returned safely."
She nods to him.
We approach the lower part of the outlook along the trail. Gale and I flank Lae'zel while Astarion hangs back, but keeps alert.
We spot the Githyanki who mounts the dragon. He carries an unmistakable authority. A large silver sword clings to his back, and he stands with the poise of a man who has only known one thing. Duty, in the name of Queen Vlaakith.
Lae'zel's breath catches and she hesitates. It startles me and I quickly look down. "What do you see?"
She stops and looks straight ahead. "That is Kith'rak Voss. Knight-Commander to Queen Vlaakith. He has served many Vlaakiths as Kith'rak and helped end the rise of the traitor Orpheus." She tries to hold back and speaks carefully. "To have him here now..."
The Githyanki patrol surrounds him, and as we draw close, we can hear him speaking with passion and command.
"The weapon itself is a Githyanki artifact. It is polyhedral and shines with a pulsing red light."
Lae'zel is stone-faced and focused. We say nothing, and finally she glances up at me. "We must move quickly. If we are to be cured, the Kith'rak is the best person to consult."
"Understood."
She pauses, subtly touching my arm, but glances at Gale. "I must be the one who speaks. You are my slaves. You must stand behind me."
I smile. "Of course, Mistress."
"Please, by all means take the lead. It's bad enough we're facing the blood thirsty gith." Astarion leans into me as I step next to him. "I hope she fucks this up. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to kill them all."
We share a smile as Gale follows close behind Lae'zel.
As we approach, Lae'zel speaks with full chested authority. "Knight Supreme! Our Queen's Sword. Our Queen's Shield. We have urgent need of your assistance!"
Voss turns his attention to Lae'zel. "Such zeal for such a young warrior. What is your name?"
"Lae'zel, of Creche K'liir."
The Kith'rak looks behind her at the three of us. "And these are yours?"
She gives a staunch nod. "Indeed. I am on a quest to find a Zaith'isk. My slaves and I must be cleansed so that I may return to battle in Queen Vlaakith's name."
A faint tick in Voss' brow. "You are infected?"
"Yes, hence my urgency, Kith'rak. Your assistance would honor me." She dips her head with respect.
He inhales deeply through his nose, eyes unflinching as he considers her. "If you are infected then the only cure for you is the blade."
I place my hand of Lae'zel's shoulder. She doesn't move, doesn't respond, and I feel her body grow tense.
I coil my fingers around her shoulders and whisper into her ear. "Does he not honor your Queen, when she's given you a divine gift?"
Lae'zel bristles and I feel her shoulders rise. "You would deny me my right, when the cure was a mandate from Queen Vlaakith herself? It is not your position to condemn me when she has so readily provided salvation. I will be brought to the Zaith'isk!" I feel her body shake as she speaks. She grows still again after she's said her peace.
Gale grips the hilt of his rapier tightly, but his gaze is upon me, not the Kith'rak.
Voss stares down at her with a vague amusement. He approaches her and pulls his sword. Lae'zel tracks the blade carefully, but does not move. He rests the edge on her shoulder, silver gleaming in the light of the sun. "Are you begging to have your head liberated from your shoulders? I should end you for such insolence."
Her eyes shift to his and she takes in a deep breath, raising her chin. Fearless.
Voss is measuring her unwavering devotion, and after a quiet moment he lifts the blade, sheathing it. His eyes flick to me, Gale, and Astarion before turning to the patrol. "Baretha. After you've killed them, return to your duties. Find the weapon."
"As you say, Kith'rak." She draws her sword and takes her stance.
"Qudenos!" He mounts his dragon and the beat of its mighty wings knocks us to the ground.
As I try to gain my footing I hear a wild cry, and a group of four sword masters charge us with two young archers ready to shoot.
I have little interest in getting worn down again, and my greatsword is in hand without hesitation. Baretha comes upon me, she swings with a nimble dance. I block the swing, her blade glancing my cloak, the shrill ringing of metal sliding against metal fills the air.
She's too close for me to get an effective swing. I crack her in the mouth with the hilt of my sword and batter her in the chest with my fist, sending her flying back. I gather my dark power, the addictive plasma consuming me. I charge her, and leap with force, landing a blow that shatters her with a devastating smite. An archer nearby is blown off his feet, falling from the stone he was positioned on.
I see Gale standing behind Lae'zel, who is engaged with two of the sword masters. She's not being overwhelmed, she's a lure. With a quick flick of her wrist, she sheets the ground with ice, knocking the two Gith patrolmen to the ground. With a simple incantation and a broad sweep of his arm, Gale coats them with a fireball. The spell is brutal, and the two gith burn. Gale does not flinch.
"Vash!" I hear Astarion's voice and turn to see the fallen archer charging me.
Thunder cracks from my spell as I blow him back with force. He slams into the stone behind him. I close the gap, burying my sword clean through his chest.
The archer above me is primed to shoot. Astarion slides in behind him, pulling his head back by his face, and opening his throat.
The smell of blood and feeling of victory has me seething like a creature.
I glance up at Astarion and purr. "The things I want to do to you right now..."
"All good, I hope." He scoffs and drifts down from the stone.
He pulls me down by the hair and licks the blood trickling down my cheek.
My arms wrap around him. I grip his ass and haul him into my arms. He coils himself around me and we sink into a deep, hungry kiss. It tastes of cadaver, cardamom, and smoke.
Gods help me...