"Not the best shield I've held. A little heavy on the right, but it's still far better than what I had."

Shadowheart is testing the balance of Dammon's shield on her arm. She strikes through the air a few times with it, and seems satisfied, strapping it to her back.

I’m sitting on a log, sharpening one of my daggers with a whetstone, when Astarion plops himself next to me, tucking a blade into his boot before pulling out his comb to preen.

"So, do you think I could visit your bed again tonight? Last night was fun, wasn't it?" His legs are crossed, and he's kicking his foot playfully.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lip. "It doesn't seem to have done much for me but rob me of a liter of blood."

Astarion gasps. "Nothing? Tsk. Gods forbid you do something for someone other than yourself. Besides-" He leans into me. "It did something for you. You just don't want to admit it."

I glance at him before picking up a cloth soaked with linseed oil, then run it over the blade until it shines with a mirror finish. "Are you ready to head out?"

He pouts. "Well, at least that wasn't a denial." He gets to his feet and sighs. "Yes, I'm ready, but I consider this a promise broken. You're being a real stick in the mud."

I stand and begin heading out. "Stop acting desperate."

I hear him scoff as he tries to catch up with me. "What gave you that impression? Was it my come-hither eyes?"

Shadowheart and Lae'zel follow as we make our way back to the hollow.

We find Sazza in her cell, sitting quietly. She spots us and abruptly jumps to her feet, gripping the bars.

"Oi, I've got an escort? I must be mighty important."

I nod to Astarion and he pulls out a lock pick, but hesitates, looking down at the keyhole and rolling his eyes. He lifts the door up from its wedged hinges and swings the door open.

I can't help but snort and lightly scratch my forehead. "Gods." I sigh and reach into my cloak pocket and pull the burlap sack.

Sazza steps out of the cage. "Praise the Absolute! Am I glad to be out-"

I press my hand against her mouth and pull her into me. She grabs my arm with a muffled cry.

She struggles, kicking her feet as she loses balance against my hold. I turn my back to the door. Astarion and Shadowheart casually move into position to block the view of anyone who might be peeking in.

I wait for Sazza to calm herself. Once she gets her footing she finally falls still, and more importantly, silent.

"Do not speak, or the deal is off."

When I feel her nod in agreement, I carefully remove my hand. True to her... nod... she remains silent, slowly glancing at me with a faint terror.

With a flick, I hold it open the potato sack at ground level for her. "Get in."

Sazza watches me for a moment before slowly climbing in the bag as told.

Shadowheart tosses in a few potatoes and turnips for texture. I throw her over my shoulder, and we swiftly make our way through the hollow.

As we pass Bex and Danis' platformed camp, I see them sitting on crate, deep in conversation. Bex stops and puts a hand over her mouth, grabbing Danis' arm. They seem amused and watch as we drift by. I don't hold back the smirk.

We clear the redoubt without incident. Once we round the bend and are out of site of the gate, I set Sazza down. I cut her free and she quickly stands and shades her eyes from the beaming sun before stretching her bones and savoring the open air. She finally looks up at me and cautiously opens her mouth. "C-can I speak now?"

"You may."

She lets out a large and dramatic exhale. "Praise the Absolute! Gods, am I glad to be free from that den of nutters."

"So? Lead the way." I gesture to the trail.

She waves her hand. "No worries, Boss, this way."

We head toward the abandoned village Andrick mentioned. She's taking us the right way, so far. I glance up the trail where I left the bodies. They seem to have been dragged off by some creature.

I break the silence. "How were you captured by the tieflings?"

She doesn't look at me and speaks with a pang of disquiet. "I was sent ahead as a scout before the fight'n started. I'm a scout, not a warrior. So, I waited until the fight'n was over before getting out of there. 'cept I didn't see the tiefs waitin' for me. That's when they nabbed me."

"A scout, with no stomach for a fight, so you hid."

She stops abruptly. Her shoulders rise and her lips go tight.

I slow to a halt, looking back at her.

She's staring at me with an almost comedic intensity. She finally lifts her chin. "Take it back, or you can face my tribe yourself!"

I turn and approach her. She cranes to meet my eye. "That's not our deal, Sazza."

She takes a subtle step back but remains.

I kneel to her level and watch her quietly.

She begins to fidget. "I-If I could have gutted the teifs I would have! 'cept I was the last one."

"I have no doubt."

She fumbles with her hands before deciding to tuck them under her arms.

"You survived capture." My voice is measured. "You had a crossbow trained on you by a mad woman, and yet you held. Now you walk free." I rise and begin to walk again. "Keep faith, Sazza, and be grateful."

There is a moment before I hear the pattering of her feet trying to catch up. "Right, Boss." She says in a shallow voice.

Past the village we find ourselves approaching a checkpoint of goblin sentries.

I see ragged banners of tanned skins with a symbol painted in red. It's crude and smeared, but distinct. A hand, with the palm of a skull, framed by a triangle. I touch Sazza's shoulder. "These banners are a bit unkempt."

She looks at them and gives me a dutiful nod. "Don't worry Boss, I'll take care of it." Then she turns to the sentries. "Oi! You heard the True Soul! Ain't no one can see the symbol of the Absolute! Get'em cleaned up!"

The sentries grumble but one swiftly scurries off, muttering about red paint.

The symbol of the Absolute, not just a tribal emblem. It gives me another uncanny feeling of familiarity.

We smell the goblin camp before we see it. The temple of Selûne comes into view and Shadowheart's posture straightens. I feel her tadpole tugging at my mind. Humming with anxiety.

I step next to her. "Are you alright?"

"What?" she says abruptly. "Oh. Yes. It's just this place." The word slithers from her lips like a poison.

"What about it?" I glance around, trying to catch something I'm not seeing.

Her gaze snaps to me. "Don't tell me you've bought into that Moon Witch's lies."

"Moon Witch?"

"Selûne." The name drips from her mouth like a curse. "Whatever you've heard about her, it's nothing but lofty promises that lead to ruin. Best to avoid her as much as possible. Though it seems in this circumstance we may not have a choice in the matter."

"I honestly hadn't thought twice about it. Selûne is not my goddess."

She breathes, and the tension in her shoulders uncoil slightly. "That is very reassuring to hear, Vash. I'm not sure if I could have traveled with you otherwise."

My lips straighten and my hand wraps around her shoulders. She leans into me. The moment we step foot on the bridge we are overwhelmed by an assault on our tadpoles.

Shadowheart and I drop to our knees.

My fingers press firmly into the stone as my vision narrows. I focus. Jaw clenched, teeth grinding and aching as I try to regain control of my mind. All attempts slip through my fingers.

Useless.

Sazza sees us collapse and a look of fear overcomes her. "...Boss?"

"Sazza." I grunt.

She takes a step back and then bolts into the goblin camp.

A vision is forced into my mind's eye. The silhouettes of three people. Some cunt, a jackass, and a bitch in a lobster catsuit.

...I know them. I fucking know each one of these bastards, and yet the only thing I have to go off is the gods-damned notion.

The voices that have been haunting me begin to scream wildly, and I curl on the ground. My arms clinging to my head desperately. Futile to stop an assault from within.

At last, a new voice surges forth. She has power and speaks with an unsettling clarity above all the madness.

"These are my Chosen. Find the weapon and you will be anointed to stand among them."

A new image begins to manifest something small and round. Before it solidifies, a pulse of energy passes through me, pushing out that voice in my mind.

Slowly.

Agonizingly.

Everything grows quiet.

I finally open my eyes and look to see Shadowheart lying with her device in her hand. It pulses with energy and burns bright red against the force of that voice.

My words are stilted as I lift myself. "Shadowheart. What is that thing?"

She is limp on the ground, catching her breath. After the briefest moment, she draws it in and pushes herself to her feet. "I... I don't know. It just..." She looks at me, dread overwhelming her.

"It is Githyanki!" Lae'zel pushes past me, toward Shadowheart. "You stole it from my people!"

Shadowheart begins to pulse with a dark power. "One step closer and I'll turn you into dust!"

"Tchk! I could take you down with my bare hands, Istik."

The moment she grips her hilt I snatch her hand into mine and pull her back, sharply. The blade's sheath rattling against her armor as she falls back into me, staggered. "Stop, the both of you! This is not the time nor the place for this."

My tone is heavy as I point at Shadowheart. "Put that damned thing away."

The goblin sentries are all too drunk to see straight.

A mercy.

I lower my voice but hold the weight of my tone. "We can't start bickering over this now, but this does warrant further discussion. Let's finish our business here and address this in more depth tonight."

Relief settles over Shadowheart as she tucks the device away. "Gladly."

Lae'zel shoves me with prejudice.

"Do not touch me!" Her voice cuts with an edge as she shoots me a piercing glare, but I catch a second glance. Softer.

The main entrance to the temple leads into an overgrown marbled courtyard. Utter mayhem, as expected of goblins. The stench of mud and piss is unavoidable. In the middle of the courtyard is a makeshift stage placed on top of a crumbled fountain. The motley man from the grove is standing aloft, spouting bad poetry to a cluster of goblins.

I cannot fathom what he’s doing here. Meanwhile, Sazza is nowhere to be seen.

Shadowheart quietly scans the ancient sanctuary as the crumbling statues of Selûne loom overhead. She’s muttering to herself. I can’t catch a word of it over the loud boasting of some goblin warrior standing on a makeshift dais, four steps up from a captive audience.

"Crushed his hand, I did! Wasn't able to cast those blue sparks after that!"

The other goblins gawk and cheer and one calls out in comradery. "You got another one, Crusher!"

"More stragglers,” Crusher postures as we approach. “Begging for blessings from the Absolute?"

I feel the tadpole hum inside my head. My mind brushes the edges of Crusher's consciousness. It feels like I have command of his mind. "I'm looking for the one in charge." I say, stepping between the spectators.

He laughs. "The Absolute is in charge of this tribe! She's been bringing in all sorts, and she's changed the rules."

His chest is out, with a smirk to match his bravado. "If you want answers, you gotta show me some respect, horn head." He steps forward. "Kiss my foot."

The audience watches me expectantly, the jester that I am. His feet hang free. Bare, bejeweled, and baked in piss mud.

Lae'zel mutters to me, "You cannot be so pathetic as to cow to this creature."

Astarion grabs my arm like a devil on my shoulder. "No no. Cow all you want. I have to see this."

Shadowheart rolls her eyes but folds her arms, chewing on a nail, no attempt at intervention on my behalf.

I look skyward, seeking salvation. Finding none. I turn my attention back to Crusher. "Oh! Forgive me, Crusher!" I climb to my knees theatrically. My mouth reaches his stumpy, stinking toes.

Bite!

I snatch his big toe between my teeth. The gristle slides as I grind my jaws against bone. Crusher screams and tries to pull away but falls backwards like a trapped animal. As the toe breaks away, I swallow it. Forever lost to my profane appetite.

Astarion gags, gripping his knees. "You didn't have to swallow it!" He stops himself. "No, you definitely did..."

"My toe! My fucking toe!"

Crusher reaches for his foot impulsively but hesitates, unwilling to touch the tender wound.

I lift myself, staring down at the writhing man. "Stop your sniveling. Kiss my foot."

Crusher is gasping in pain, but manages to roll to his knees, feebly. He crawls forward, placing his mouth to my boot. “There!” He exclaims, leaning his back against the step behind him. “I... I kissed it!" He drops his head against the edge of the step, exhausted.

"Crusher." I press my boot onto his chest, pinning him to the edge. He grabs at me and winces from the pressure.

With a wild battle cry a single goblin stumbles drunk through the crowd, brandishing a crude machete. My fingers curl through the air as I test the tadpole. The moment I feel it connect his knees buckle and his mind collapses. He hits the ground and shrieks. His fingers drag across his eyes with madness.

The gawking audience of goblins falls silent.

No laughter. No jeering.

My focus returns to Crusher. "Where are the other True Souls?"

“Other True Souls? Y-you’re a… a True soul?” Crusher winces again before quickly lifting a shaking hand and pointing to a large door that leads into the temple. "Y-you can find them in there."

I give him a gracious nod. "That's all I wanted."

In one swift motion, my boot cracks down on him.

Crusher makes no sound, eyes wide, his hands reach for nothing. Paralyzed. Probably dying... probably.

I see movement and catch Brynna darting for the sanctuary.

Astarion claps gleefully. "Bravo! Good show! Who needs Sazza when you have homicidal tendencies?"

We share an amused glance and the goblins part as we make our way to the temple entrance.

The vestibule to the temple is stacked with aged white stones. Candles barely light the corridor, casting long shadows as goblin sentries hover over us on stone walkways that line the walls. The temperature drops, and Shadowheart walks close by my side. I notice the wariness in her eyes, and I place a hand on her back. "Do you want to head back to camp? This shouldn't take too long."

She blinks, as if coming back to herself. "No. I appreciate the offer, but do not confuse my caution for fear. If it's all the same with you, I'd rather stay for your sake. Let's get our business done and be out of here."

Sazza stands at the far end of the vestibule, speaking with one of the guards.

My fingers tighten at Shadowheart's back as I lean down. "Good. Then stay close."

Sazza sees us and takes a step back from the guard she had been speaking to. "B-Boss! You made it!" She says with a weak grin. "Come on! Priestess Gut is just inside, but I bet you'll be wanting to speak to the Drow."

I snatch her arm as she turns to lead us. "Sazza. You left us on the bridge."

She looks up at me, chin curled. "Y-yeah? You were down, Boss. Ain't nothing I could-a done about that."

My grip tightens and she flinches. "Our deal was for you to introduce me to your tribe. Because you ran, I had to find my own way, and now Crusher is dead."

"What? Crusher?"

"If I can't rely on you to keep your word, then what good are you, Sazza?"

She falls silent, as do the other goblins. She opens her mouth and finally speaks slowly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Boss. I just..." She stares at me and grows still.

I release her arm and she takes a step back, rubbing where I held her.

"Go on. A bargains a bargain." I hold out my arm for her to proceed.

She stumbles forward and we follow her into the main hall.

It's an ancient stone temple with looming statues of cloaked figures at all four corners of the chamber.

At the center is a makeshift platform with a branding station. The smell of burning goblin flesh permeates the air, as an ornately decorated booyagh presses the hot iron into the palm of a fellow goblin.

Priestess Gut.

The crackle of skin and the screams of the supplicant send shivers down my spine. She catches our eye and quickly shoves the suffering goblin aside.

"Get out of here, scrap! We've got some real True Souls in our midst!"

She closes her eyes tight and pushes herself into my mind, rifling through my thoughts like a clumsy urchin digging in a trash bin.

Faltering images blink into my mind of a man in dark hair with a smooth voice and easy smile. The cunt. His awkward swagger exudes the air of tenuous authority that subverts any natural charisma he might actually possess. It's embarrassing. Before I get a chance to gather how I might know him, she rips herself from my mind.

"Bloody hells! I can see why the Absolute sent you. You've got a rare skill, don't you? Killin'. Seems you've been busy doin' Her work." She waggles her little goblin finger at me. "And on top of that, you've got a little worm problem in your skull. No doubt She wanted me to cure ya'."

My gaze sharpens. "Problem? You have the same worm as me."

Gut scoffs. "I ain't got no worm in my head, but I got a solution for you. First things first, you gotta get branded." She rolls the hot iron in the flames to be sure it's ready.

The symbol of the brand is the mark of the Absolute. "If anyone has doubts you follow the Absolute, show them this. Give me your hand." She lifts the iron and reaches for my palm.

I stare at her, weighing the choice. This will make it easier to move within the cult but could cause issues if I need to work with the opposition. Who would be easier, or safer, to bargain with?

Removing my hand wrap, I kneel, holding out my hand. She quickly presses the iron into my calloused palm. The searing pain of the cauterization rips through me. The smoke from my own burning flesh laps at my nostrils like a frightened specter trying to crawl back inside me.

It feels...

She pulls away, and a low sigh quietly escapes me. I look at my palm and see the brand, imbued with magic, glowing with a red light that projects the symbol above my palm. The damaged tissue knits together almost instantly. I flex my fingers and wrap my hand again.

She smiles with approval. "Now that that's done, let's speak in private. This way to my quarters. We don't want these scabs listening in on True Soul business."

Sazza is distracted by a few goblins near the branding station. I snap to get her attention, before straightening my cloak.

She quickly looks up at me.

"I'll find you when we're done. Stay close until we get back."

She gives a nod. "You got it, Boss. I ain't goin' nowhere!"

I follow Gut, with the others trailing behind.

Astarion slides up next to me, lacing his arm through mine. "Sooo, you got branded. How did you like it? It seemed to be a full-body experience for you."

The mischief in his eye is telling. He wants something.

"Have you come to pester me about it?"

He casually looks at his fingernails. "Yes, I am very perceptive, darling." He turns his eyes back to me with a toss of his perfectly coiffed hair. "So, did you finish?"

I shove him. "There are moments where you feel excruciatingly punchable."

He laughs and leans into me. "You know you love it."

"Was there something you actually wanted?"

He playfully rolls his eyes. "I just wanted to get to know you better. Though, I am at a disadvantage, given your convenient amnesia."

"...I wouldn't call it convenient."

"You were able to interrogate me, but I'm relegated to having to play pick-up-sticks with your personality. Hardly seems fair."

He makes a good point, but things like 'paladin' and 'masochist' aren't exactly a personality.

"Do you want me to keep you posted on any new revelations? Or did you have something else in mind?"

Priestess Gut's shrill voice cuts through our conversation. "In here and close the door behind you. We don't want any eavesdroppers."

Priestess Gut enters first and takes her place by a low wooden table. She leans against it, her silhouette flickering in the light of several smoldering candles. I observe her quietly as the others file in. Her casual confidence may be masking something more sinister.

The moment I hear the door close, I speak. "What do you know about the worm in my head?"

The buttery grin she gives me is a caricature of hospitality. "I know you need to get that thing out of you, and I've got the cure. But I can't do it with an audience. The rest of you, clear out!"

I subtly shift my gaze to Astarion, who had been looming near the altar of candles. He locks eyes with me at the same time and purses his lips.

My eyes land back on her. "There's nothing else you can tell me? How do you intend to extract it?"

"The Absolute has blessed me with skilled hands. You just leave those details to me."

I close my eyes and exhale before kneeling in front of her, meeting her at her level. "I need you to be very careful with the next thing you say."

Gut looks uneasy and takes a step back.

I give her an encouraging nod, hoping to elicit the truth. Or maybe I'm just hoping she'll tell me the truth I want to hear. "Do you actually know how to remove it?"

She holds my stare like a stubborn child and subtly fidgets. "Of course. I can tell you ain't no scab. You're special." She lifts herself from the table and gestures to her chest in reverence. "You've been blessed, just like me. Paise Her name! I'm just here to help one of our own."

My eyes glide across her before I glance at Astarion once more. "I see, how very generous of you."

A nod is all it takes.

Her throat opens and a warm waterfall of blood coats the front of her body like a burial shroud.

Gut collapses quickly as Astarion cleans the blood from his dagger. I stand, watching her die.

She begins convulsing on the ground. Her eyes are empty; she's just a twitching husk at this point.

I stomp on her head and begin sifting through her cranial tissues to find her worm.

"These things are so fascinating." I hold it up for the others to see. "Little nightmares that sit comfortably at the center of our world."

I hear Shadowheart retch softly and I glance over at her. "Are you okay?"

She holds a curled finger to her mouth. "Yes, I'm fine. Carry on." She takes her time to compose herself.

Astarion recoils. "Don't play with it. Good Gods, I can practically hear it squealing."

I pull a vial from my cloak and bottle the thing before flipping through Gut's effects. I collect a few Absolutist trinkets and some keys. She isn't harboring anything spectacular.

With my foot, I nudge her ruined body into a wide crack in the floor. It vanishes into an endless darkness without a sound.

We never hear it land.