Open Your Scars - Chapter 8 - Ryaena (2024)

Chapter Text

Tensions

Day 8

What to do, what to do, what to do? Or rather, what to say? He was of many differing opinions. He could pretend like the slaughter never happened. He could pretend that yesterday was just another one of those dreams- or even a mass hallucination. He could get down on his knees and try to explain himself. No… no, he was being foolish. Why was he even worrying? He was reading far too much into things. Everyone was just out of sorts because the smoke inhalation finally caught up to their brains. It was either that or the liquor which made everyone act out of character. He didn’t do anything wrong, they were all just being difficult.

• Sentiment; it poisons reason.
• Exactly. I did what I said I would. If they didn’t have the stomach for it, they shouldn’t have come. I gave ample opportunity.
• You gave them a great gift, to be witness to your masterpiece in the moments of its creation.
• This was for their sake too. If I didn’t find an outlet, surely I would have-
• Wrong. You did this for you.

This was all so confusing. Did he do it for himself or not? Whose benefit was this for- whom did it serve? He wasn’t sated. The bloodthirst still swelled beneath his skin- the beast still clawed against its bindings. Only now, the strength with which it struggled was sharper and more impatient. Having given himself a taste of slaughter once, he was itching for that taste again. At this rate it was feeling like he would never be satisfied. He wanted to be angry, but all he could feel was disappointed. All he could do was wallow in self pity, and wonder why he was like this.. What had he done to earn such a curse? Who was he in his lost life?

• Do not be delicate. You are what you are.

That didn’t answer any of his questions, nor provide him with guidance. The headache had lessened but surely it would be back. It was only a matter of time. How was he supposed to work around this? If he let it get too bad, he risked waking up over the body of one of his fr- companions. He wanted to avoid that if possible, as he doubted it could be explained away with as much ease as the bard, and because everyone had a role to play that he couldn’t see himself filling in the event of an unfortunate accident.

• It wouldn’t be an accident-
• Just be quiet for once. I don’t need this right now.
• You will author many more works, you only need to-
• There won’t be any more work if they cast me out.

He rubbed his eyes. He was so tired. He yearned for the status afforded to him during the first few restless nights of their adventure, where all he could do was pace about, or even drift into oblivion under the cool compress of the water. But he mustn’t fall asleep. He simply couldn’t risk it. The line between himself and the creature living in his heart was blurred now. Was there even a creature at all…? He couldn’t do this anymore. This feeling was more intolerable than any broken bone or brain ache. He grit his teeth and buried it deep deep down. He suffered enough, he didn’t need to invite more of it upon himself.

…

Oh gods! Last night had to have been a fantasy! There was no conceivable reality in which what had happened, happened. He felt his face start to grow hot again- a contemptible mixture of shame and humiliation flooded his heart, filling the chambers with a viscous agony which was then pumped throughout his entire body. He had acted like a- like a-.... he didn’t even have a word demeaning enough to chasten himself. There was no plane in all of Realmspace where he could hide that the reality would not find him: he had been reduced to a whimpering mess by the ministrations of a pompous elf- one who he now had to share the camp with for the remainder of the journey. Astarion had snuck his manicured hands into all of Adonis’ most sacred places, the most offensive of which was his pride. Maybe the smoke had addled his brain as well, because he really had not thought it through. In the moment it had seemed like a good idea, and during the actual act it seemed like a great idea, even despite the torture he endured. But now, he was entirely positive that his late night communion had only served to complicate matters. His mind so kindly replayed for him all the sounds he had let slip from his throat, forcing his head further into his hands. But then he remembered the feeling of cold fingers caressing his skin… a tongue on his throat… tugs at his hair… and soft lips against his own. He shivered, as the memories were carved into the very folds of his brain.

There were two choices now: either he killed Astarion or he killed himself. One could not exist at the same time as the other after what had transpired. He was inclined towards the latter, so that he might at least be free of this torment. The sun was well up by now. He could hear his companions beginning to stir. A jolt of ice shot through his veins. It was one thing to say he did not care- adhering to that was another thing entirely. He wished he could just make them understand the entirety of his thoughts without having to use his words, as that always resulted in his point being mangled by his disobedient voice. Wait… the tadpole! He could just show them all of what- or perhaps not. Definitely not. He didn’t need to further the divide between them by exposing his wretched fantasies for all to see. He would have to be brave about it. He didn’t want to be brave. He wanted to stay here on his stone forever.

• “There you are”.

He froze. Out of everyone to first confront him, why did it have to him? He stayed unmoving, head pressed against his knees which were encircled by his arms. Maybe, if he didn’t acknowledge him, he’d just go away? Genius. It seemed to work, as his continued lack of response towards the several attempts to rouse him resulted in a long stretch of silence. Victory. Now he could-

• “GAH!”

He yelped as someone blew a puff of cold air directly into his ear. He clapped his hand over his mouth and stared wide eyed at the smug elf who was now crouched down next to him. He moved so silently, a fact that made him all the more dangerous when it came to surprise attacks on the peace of others. Peace now thoroughly disrupted, he leaned his head onto his hand with a smile and a flutter of his white eyelashes.

• “I did miss that face you know”.
• “...”
• “I have been told my beauty is so potent that it brings men to speechlessness, but I don’t much fancy being ignored, darling. How cruel- is this how you treat all your lovers?”
• “I’m not- it’s not…”, he swallowed thickly.
• “After all, you had much to say last night”.

Adonis' jaw fell slack beneath his hand as his face once again flushed to a dark red. Astarion smirked.

• “No, you’re right. There wasn’t much ‘speaking’ being done”.

Adonis' brain was being fried like an egg cracked over a volcano vent.

• “Cat got your tongue? I could remedy that, if you’d like-”
• “NO! I mean, no”.
• “Hmm, suit yourself”.

Astarion ran a single finger down Adonis’ bicep before getting up and sauntering away. Adonis’ skin itched along the trail of contact. This was so confusing! Was Astarion displeased with him or not? What did he want from him? He was growing to believe, despite the shame it brought him, that Astarion’s decree of wanting ‘pleasure’ simply wasn’t true- or it was and Adonis had simply failed to fulfill it. Either he was being subjected to mixed signals, or he was just overthinking things. He hadn’t exactly had a clear mind yesterday, so maybe it was all in his head that Astarion and the rest of his companions were acting off.

This wasn’t good. How was he supposed to address the others now that all his confidence had been snatched away. The ill feeling returned to his gut- the one of inadequacy. Perhaps it would just be better to rip the bandage off. He stood up and cracked his spine, trying to return to the usual state of relative calm he sometimes possessed. He made for the center of camp, finding it already occupied by the rest of his party. They didn’t acknowledge him until he was close, looking up from their breakfast in varying degrees of emotion. Lae’zel looked the same as she always did: annoyed. Shadowheart was attempting to maintain her chilly exterior, and was reasonably succeeding. Gale… Gale sighed to himself and continued polishing silverware. Adonis tried not to let this affect him, after all, he had an agenda now.

• “So, what now?” Shadowhert said as she rolled pebbles around with her foot.
• “The Underdark”.

They all looked up at him with questions immediately ready for asking, but he spoke again before they could.

• “There are more cultists down there. And… one of them, a True Soul named Nere has something we need”.
• “Chk. Need for what?”
• “To get through the shadow curse, should we ever go to the towers”.
• “Our salvation lies within the crèche, how many times must I repeat myself before it penetrates your thick skull?”
• “We aren’t going for a cure down there, just… a backup. He won’t be down there for long, and if we miss him there will be no chance to acquire another”.
• “Another what”.
• “A harp. A harp to summon the guide”.

He was met with skepticism. Adonis was outnumbered. The others clearly were not convinced by his subpar proposal. He would have to try a bit harder.

• “There are traces of Dark Justiciars down there. And the Nightsong- the relic that wizard was after. We might also… be able to learn more about why our tadpoles are so different”.

He fidgeted with his hands, keeping the worst of his anxious tics under control. Hopefully the added reasons to trek down into such a place would tempt them where he could not. He could almost feel the rejection coming. He didn’t want to face the inevitable argument yet, and so quickly mumbled,

• “Just something to think about”, before walking away.

He sulked back to his perch, and began to collect all of his things. There was no question that they were going to move camp considering the state it was in, and the journey ahead of them would be long regardless of whatever destination they chose next. He loaded up all of his various trinkets into one of the pockets of his bags. His collectables from the forest floor, his assortment of uniquely colored or textured rocks, pieces of writing that caught his interest, his small collection of tinctures, and finally, the folded piece of red fabric he had received from that strange imp. He folded it even smaller and set it at the bottom of his pocket dimension, unwilling to examine it. The small vial which he had received from Minthara sat beside it, cradled in the swathes of soft red fibers. His temporary camp shirt, now turned primary shirt, took its place above it all once he slipped it off. He made a promise to himself that he would no longer be wearing it during anything but the off hours, so that he wouldn’t need to replace it again. A shirt that fit properly was a rare find indeed.

He hopped off his rocky outcropping and trudged back to the shore, where he sat upon his low stone and wrestled with his padded armor in an attempt to get it over his head. When finally successful, he slouched forward and set his ears to listening for the next time he was summoned. He could hear the tents being disassembled, and he could faintly hear Gale explain the complexities of lugging an entire campsite around in their packs.

As Gale went on, finding it within himself to have the energy for ‘fun facts’, his mind was elsewhere. He had taken on a passive role for the entirety of the ‘quest to the cure’ so far, and clearly this was the wrong thing to do. They were sunk deep in gore and slaughter now, and he felt that if no one else was going to, it would have to be him who intervened. He would also be lying if he said he wasn’t getting touch bored of sitting in camp all day. He had never been to the Underdark before, despite his wide travels as an archmage. He would also be lying if he said he wasn’t just a tad interested in its secrets.

Shadowheart wasn’t exactly keen on heading to the githyanki crèche. She doubted that their problems would be solved there, considering her prior experience. The next best thing was Moonrise towers, which was unfortunately surrounded by an apparent maddening curse. The Underdark was the more logical option, to make no mention of the whispers of Sharran activity. She was still weathering the remains of a hangover that hindered her patience, but even she couldn’t disagree. She dismissed the uncertainties lingering in her heart, and knew that her Lady would guide her.

Lae’zel was growing tired of the opposition to her direction. The Underdark was a distraction, and likely a several day affair with the propensity of her party to seek trouble. Although… ceremorphosis didn’t seem like it was upon them. Every lesson she had ever been taught about the timeline of ghaik reproduction was practically useless against magically altered tadpoles. She wanted to protest further but she could not deny that they needed more information. She had read about the Underdark before. The vast assortment of foes to be found down in the dark bowels of this plane could assist her in strengthening her blade and skills. She knew that there would be fighting to come once she exposed the traitor kith’rak, and she was forced to concede that in her current state a battle would likely not be in her favor. This was just another opportunity to prepare. It was also an opportunity to discover the intentions of the half-elf who so tightly clutched a relic of her people.

Astarion watched them all, amused that everyone seemed to be so deep in contemplation this early in the morning. How unlike them. But there was certainly a palpable tension in the air- one which he could probably slice with his dagger if he tried. He didn’t have many possessions other than the assortment of furnishings he acquired, so he was packed up and ready to go quicker than Gale could finish his long winded explanation. As for where he wanted to go, the Underdark seemed like a wonderful idea. He was kidding himself of course, the Underdark was a hideous place if his books had anything to say about it. It also sounded like a vampire’s paradise, and while that may have been good when he was still adverse to the sun, it was only a disadvantage now. He wasn’t the only vampire around, and they could find him there with little trouble. But the alternative was the gith crèche- and therefore it wasn’t really a hard choice. Besides, who knew what little treasures were waiting down there for him to find. What’s more, it was a convenient avenue to continue cozying up to their tasty leader. He could see him now, back on that rock looking antsy, more so than usual. He smirked to himself, and began crafting all manner of games to play with his meal ticket.

Adonis’ ear twitched when he heard his name called, finally summoned. He trotted back to the firepit, which was now out and disassembled, and noted how the rest of camp was also broken down. The only remaining evidence of activity was the goblin trash, which even Gale didn’t have the willpower to remove. The others were there waiting, and when he arrived they all looked at him, which immediately made him shrink. Shadowheart spoke first,

• “How do we get there?”
• “Where?”
• “The Underdark”.
• “Oh.. it’s um.. the Selûnite temple. There is a passage somewhere within it”, he was surprised that they actually agreed to go.
• “The one full of goblins?” Gale sighed.
• “N-no, they’re all gone now”.
• “Well then, lead the way”.

Adonis took one last look at their camp before he disappeared into a cloud of purple mist. His eye was drawn to the pond, which slowly lapped upon the shore with its constant rhythm.

shhhk csshhh shhhk csshhh shhhk csshhh

shhhk csshhh shhhk csshhh shhhk csshhh

shhhk csshhh shhhk csshhh shhhk csshhh

He committed it to memory.

The Underdark

Day 8

The temple was indeed clear of goblins. The torches were cold, and so they must have vacated some time ago. They left the place in a similar state to the camp, completely trashed. They had taken every scrap that could be considered valuable, and destroyed the rest. It was strange to walk through the halls, now entirely devoid of sound save for the footsteps of the party. There was no chatter amongst them, no playful snips or catty jabs as they went. The tension still lingered, and its source still went unacknowledged. They split up to comb the sanctums in search for the entrance, looking for any signs of concealment or magic that still lingered in the masonry. Astarion was the first to find a room which they had not yet explored- it looked to be the chambers of that deranged priestess. He called the others and they proceeded onward. The little room had an adjoining annex full of bookshelves and crates, and a small cell with a few bones still locked inside. They mechanically searched for anything above goblin eye level that the priestess would have missed. Adonis found a small chest on top of one of the dusty wardrobes, which easily yielded its contents to him- a small necklace adorned with blue teardrop gems. It glowed slightly, and was cool to the touch. He slid it into the compartment which held his growing collection of rings.

This little nook of the temple was decidedly less ruined than the rest, as statues of Selûne were still standing, coldly presiding over them as they wandered down the long hall. After passing through a small archway, they found themselves in a room with a high ceiling and open floor. The sun shone through cracks in the roof, illuminating stone disks inlaid in the floor. They were ornate, but asymmetrical. There were black dots on the edges of some but no visible pattern.

• “Ah, forgive me if I’m wrong, but this looks like a puzzle of some kind”, Gale said with a little hint of spark returned to his demeanor.
• “What an incredible observation. Did you figure that all by yourself?” Astarion teased.
• “As a matter of fact, I did. Would you care to try and solve it Astarion?”
• “Oh no, I could never deny you the pleasure”.
• “How touching”.

Gale put a hand on his chin as he walked around the circles, occasionally tapping one with his foot, which caused them to rotate. He had an interesting look on his face- one caught between joy and conflict. It was clear to Adonis that he was trying not to be excited. Eventually he figured it out, landing all the black dots onto the most illuminated circle. There was a loud scraping sound as dust fell from the rafters, and one of the tall stone walls split to reveal a hidden pathway. Astarion whistled, and Gale tried his hardest not to look too proud.

The enthusiasm to progress was quickly lost as they stared down into the chasm that awaited them. Rather than a nice staircase or perhaps an elevator into the depths, there was only a rickety ladder that descended into the darkness.

• “I suppose the Selûnites value simplicity then”, Gale swallowed, not a terrible fan of heights.

They looked amongst each other, each unwilling to go first. Not from any lack of courage of course- but more a lack of faith in an old wooden ladder that had gone unused for likely a century. After a short argument, a quick round of shield-sword-hammer saw Adonis as the unwilling volunteer, which wasn’t all that fair considering he had no idea how the game worked. But he wasn’t exactly the kind to argue, and so he unhappily placed his feet on the rungs and began the descent. After he made it down thirty or so, the others decided it was safe to follow. The lower they got, the more fungal growths appeared on the walls, lighting the way with soft bioluminescence. Occasionally Adonis warned them of a step which was loose, but the climb down went without a hitch- excluding Shadowheart’s remarks about Gale wetting with wood with sweaty palms.

When the bottom came into view after some long minutes, Adonis decided to slide down the remaining length of the ladder, landing at the bottom with nearly unsafe speed. The air was distinctly colder down here, and dry. It was also very boring- there were no big mushrooms like he was expecting, instead they were in a stone compound with obvious Selûnite influences. When they were all present, they started exploring the place. Supposedly the Nightsong was around here, but it didn’t look like much. There were a couple jail cells, some tables and a makeshift smithy, but other than that it looked entirely ordinary. Well- not exactly. The floor was littered with skeletons clad in Selûnite armor which was in the process of rusting away. Shadowheart made some cheeky comment about it, but Adonis’ attention was drawn to the large portcullis separating the shelter from the rest of the Underdark. Through it, he could see more of what he was actually expecting: cavernous ceilings so covered in fungi that they almost looked like the night sky, stalagmites and stalactites of epic proportion, and the aforementioned big mushrooms. But more curiously, was the silver pulsating light emitting from the hands of a large Selûne statue, which traveled to the iron gate. There must be some sort of mechanism at work, but he would let Gale or Astarion confirm that. Instead he was content to take in more of the view. It was eerily beautiful, the never ending darkness was only penetrated by the glow of vegetation, and in such varying colors it resembled a field of flowers. Albeit, a dangerous and mysterious field of flowers. Quite breathtaking- unlike anything he had seen yet. Shadowheart sighed, admiring the sight right alongside him.

• “Never mind what others say, it’s beautiful down here”.
• “Mhm”.

They watched a while longer, until Adonis saw something shift in the darkness. Even with darkvision, neither of them could make out what it was, only that it was getting larger, or rather, closer. Then it stopped. What was…

• “GET BACK!”

Adonis grabbed Shadowheart by the elbow and yanked both himself and her backwards. The fell onto the hard floor just in time for a minotaur to come charging out of the darkness and ram into the portcullis, bending the metal bars. They scrambled to prepare for battle, swords unsheathed and holy flames lit, but as the minotaur prepared its next strike, the glowing beam of silver light started to crackle. The ends of the reflected light bubbled and sparked, growing into concentrated balls of energy which were then fired by turrets directly into the beast’s hide. The creature roared in agony as silver flames traveled along its fur, until it finally collapsed, burnt to a crisp. The party members stood in quiet shock for a moment, before Astarionn handedly chirped,

• “Guess we won’t be going out that way”.
• “Credit where it’s due, I suppose”, Shadowheart nodded with a light quaver in her voice

Adonis rose to his feet, offering Shadowheart a hand which she did not accept. He wiped it on his pant leg in an attempt to play it off, before wandering towards the side of the compound, looking for alternative escapes. There were some busted slats on one of the open windows, enough for a person or five to jump through, and there was a small outcropping which connected to a path down a hill. This would do, the only concern was the suspicious orange mushrooms which periodically lined the path. Choosing to test his hunch, Adonis grabbed a pebble from the floor and tossed it at the closest one. His suspicions were confirmed as the mushroom went up in a burst of hot flame. He felt someone smack the back of his head and suddenly Lae’zel was there looking irritated.

• “Fool! Are you trying to alert every creature down here to our presence?”
• “Oh-”
• “Think before you act”.
• “Sorry”.

She rolled her eyes and climbed through the opening, followed by the others. They dodged a few more of the shrooms before coming on to a relatively flat clearing. The view was much better from here, and one could see the expansive miles of cavern unhindered by stone walls. There was in the distance, what looked like a tall man-made structure, which they agreed to head towards as their first objective.

The ambiance down here was certainly unique. On occasion, a loud screech or caw echoed around, and it was impossible to determine if the sounds were coming from near or far. The air smelled of mildew and damp earth. Not entirely unpleasant, but certainly strange- and who knew what spores laced the air. The flatness of the plane didn’t last for long either, as now there were some slight changes in elevation to navigate. The rock formations began to look increasingly odd as well. Adonis could have sworn that they started to look more and more humanoid the further they went. He was only surprised at the coincidence until they came upon a formation that was very obviously a sculpture. It looked like a drow carved in stone, and a few more paces revealed a large collection of these sculptures, all equally distanced, and all cowered in either fear or surprise. Who was responsible for these, and why were they here, in the middle of nowhere? Adonis wrapped his knuckles on the cowl of the one standing closest to him. It was indeed solid stone.

• “What the…”, he mumbled.

The others looked equally confused. They took cautious steps around the statues, guards up, when suddenly there was a large fleshy gargling echoing around the cavern, and this time it was decidedly close by. They whipped around, and rising from the depths of the shadows was a swirling mass of tendrils, parting to reveal a giant eye. It stared at them for a moment, before its face split to reveal a gaping maw ling with razor sharp teeth. The monster roared at them, tentacles writing as it went in for the attack.

Really, what was their fortune?

• “A GODSDAMMED SPECTATOR??!!” Astarion screeched, absolutely livid.

The beast had torn the sleeve of his doublet, arguably the most heinous action it could have committed. The rest of his companions weren’t in much better shape. This particular spectator had a fondness for paralysis and necrosis, and it made sure to fire rays of malevolence at them whenever it got the chance. It only ended when Lae’zel cleaved the beast in two after taking a running leap from a high rock. Poor Gale, his first combat encounter had him clumsily trying to help from the sidelines, but without the greater extent of his usual repertoire, he was quite useless. In his defense, he wasn’t usually in this position, but the complete disparity between his skills and the talents of his companions made it all the more obvious to him that he needed to step it up or risk becoming a roadmark. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The statues around them hadn’t been statues at all, but rather petrified drow whom the spectator unfroze and hypnotized. The effects of its charms wore off when it died, and now the lot of them were standing around in a daze. The party collected themselves, gathering together to assess their injuries when a particularly brazen drow approached. He was wearing wizard robes, and had quite the air of snobbery around him. He didn’t even register Adonis’ blade still in his hand as he began to harp.

• “I offer to parley, and he brings a spectator? Twit. Quite ruined my ambush. Now- you are?”

Adonis almost laughed at the audacity.

• “You first”.

The drow smirked, backed up by the force of his own ego.

• “We simply haven’t time for all of my titles. I am Dhorn. Third son of house Ba Tol, first rank evoker, and initiate of Gravenhollow’s…”, he patted around in his pocket and pulled out a faded pink crystal, “...oh. Oh no no my dear dark GODS BELOW, NO!”
• “What’s that?”
• “A memory shard. They hold their glow for years- and it’s fading. It contains knowledge that is precious to me. If it has grown this dull… then my enemies have already found the forge. Which bastard stole my glory- Xagrim? Filro?”
• “No idea what you’re talking about”.
• “Impossible. The master of the Adamantine Forge would be known- and feared- throughout the Underdark. Unless.. Hah. Hah! The fools must have turned back. Or better yet, died in the search. Good. If they had just surrendered their research to me, we might have found the forge together. But no- they hoarded their knowledge, and left each of us clinging to scraps”.

Adonis wondered to himself,

• Do all wizards talk this much?

The drow cradled the crystal in his hands as he spoke, turning it over with obvious pride.

• “I had the good sense to lock mine away in the memory shard. And now I can claim the forge alone”.
• “Uh-huh, have fun with that”.
• “I can figure out the rest of the details with time, now that I’m the only one searching. Or… almost the only one. You proved your power in freeing me- but I need no more rivals. Try to take this as a compliment, yes?”
• “I- you’re joking aren’t you?”
• “Afraid not”

Adonis laughed as the rest of the drow’s entourage took up their weapons again.

• “Well, if you insist”.

Adonis handled them by himself, and Gale finally got to see him in action for the first time properly. While the others watched him carve through the drow with the same energy as watching a game of racquetball, Gale felt as though he was watching mice be fed to a hyena. Such skill, with such brutality. It sent a shiver up his spine, and he had to dodge flecks of blood being flung into the air as the last drow collapsed into the dirt just inches away from him. To kill with such ease… it was disturbing. Gale wasn’t naive; he knew that sometimes this was how it had to be, but it didn’t make it any less concerning. Adonis shook the blood from his hair like an animal, and trotted back over, glowing pink crystal in hand. He held it out to Gale, who cringed away from its blood covered surface.

• “Oh, sorry”, Adonis wiped the sludge off with his sleeve.
• “And what do you wish me to do with this?”
• “Well, that other wizard said it was a memory rock. You’re a wizard so I figured… you don’t have to”, he offered sheepishly.
• “No no it’s fine. You’re quite right, I’m a wizard indeed”.

Their conversation was jilted, as the animosity between the two of them hadn’t yet been resolved, rather shoved under a rug to deal with later. Gale looked over the crystal, and began to attune to it, gently prodding the thoughts within. It opened up like a flower to him, glowing more intensely as it transported his mind into the memories. The place he went was deep, loud, and hot as the Hells themselves. He could see the outline of a great stronghold, and a giant hammer waiting to fall. It was all somewhere deep into the Underdark. With a great clang, Gale returned to himself, with a firm sense of a location- a grand forge.

• “Hm- interesting. This ‘Adamantine Forge’ seems to be quite the destination. Though, I doubt we’ll come across it- it’s very far down into the depths of this place”.
• “Hmm” Adonis hummed thoughtfully.

The party looted what they could from the drow, which wasn’t much since they had been petrified for so long, and continued on. The remainder of the path wasn’t much more friendly than the beginning, as there were vents leaching toxic fumes into the air. An adept toss of stones plugged the smaller ones, but the largest needed to be tiptoed around with great care, for fear of triggering a reaction. There was a bit of finessing to be done around some gaps in the rock, and there was a slight climb down a ragged wall which needed to be accomplished. Again, Gale was not nearly as in shape as he wanted to be, and to the utter devastation of his dignity, he lost his footing halfway down the wall. He would have landed his rear in the dirt, were it not for Adonis catching him and setting him down gently like an oversized doll. The flustered thanks and the barely concealed laugher from both Shadowheart and Astarion put him and Adonis to shame.

Large spider webs made their appearance for the first time since their arrival, which was surprising considering that enormous spiders were an Underdark staple. Still, wanting to redeem himself, Gale set his thumb alight with a small flicker of flame and burned the webs away. They disintegrated like tissue, revealing a small little alcove that looked like a shrine to Lolth. There was a resupply stash which Astarion happily volunteered to unlock, summoning his tools with a magician's flourish. The look of confusion on Adonis' face as he tried to understand how the trick was done amused him. Much to his personal satisfaction, his dexterous misdirections seemed to impress the man more than Gale’s actual magic. He unlocked the chest, with the condition that he got first dibs on anything that was in there, which in this case happened to be an assortment of poisons and a few coins. He pocketed the coins and a vial of particularly nasty looking liquid, then let Shadowheart put the rest in the communal supplies.

As they continued along the cliffside, Astarion was growing bored with the refusal to banter. The tension was fine and good- he liked watching people squirm, but not at the cost of conversation. He sighed dramatically into the air,

• “I hope we don’t have to spend too long poking around down here. I’d much rather be outside, with the sun on my skin”.

Lae’zel scoffed- the only other one not affected by the terseness of the remaining party members,

• “You’ve only just come to tolerate sun, and you’re already nostalgic?”
• “Can I be blamed? I find it preferable to all this damp gloom”.
• “If you’re going to complain the whole way, by all means, return topside. You could use the color”.
• “Please. This pearlescent skin is one of my finer qualities. We wouldn’t want to blemish it with sun spots”.
• “You are making a fuss over things you cannot even see”.

Adonis phased in and out of listening.

• Sun spots.. blemishes…?

He looked at his hands and his assortment of freckles. His stomach did a nasty little flip again. He couldn’t dwell on it though, as the Underdark had a multitude of surprises, and the next one came in the form of a low rumble in the distance which increased to a loud crunching as the ground began to shake. He nearly lost his balance as a line of dirt was disturbed and displaced just beneath his feet. The disruption continued on past them, as whatever burrowed underground paid them no mind.

• “Oh dear, I hope that isn’t what I think it is”, Gale blinked.
• “What?”
• “A Bulette”.
• “What’s that?”
• “Well, let’s just say they don’t refer to it as the ‘landshark’ for no reason. Once, I had the misfortune of-”
• “Don’t start”, Lae’zel interrupted him, already regretting not shoving the wizard into the camp bag with the rest of the furnishments.

They took a quick breather to further recover from the minor injuries, and to give the Bulette time to get far away. When they were ready to go again, they continued down the steep change in elevation. The scenery was getting hotter, and more volatile. Between them and their objective was a large field of those same orange glowing mushrooms, the kind that exploded if someone got too close or if they were even slightly disturbed. That being said, they did not let Adonis or Gale go in. First up was Astarion, who they all begrudgingly had to admit, was the most nimble and light footed. He protested, obviously, but was overruled. When he placed his first foot on the sand, the others backed up- just in case. He rolled his eyes and delicately made his way around the perimeter, which had less mushrooms along it compared to directly walking through the middle. He weaved around, and found a small pocket on the edge of the field next to a chasm where he could wait until the others joined him.

• “Just step where I stepped- easy as breathing”, he laughed to himself. He, of course, didn’t need to breathe.

Shadowheart went next, equally light footed but perhaps not as quick. She negotiated it just fine though, with a proud ‘hmph’ as she took her place next to Astarion. Then it was Lae’zel, who stowed her sword at her back, and took careful steps. She tried to make not even a sound, which was both difficult and impressive considering her silver armor usually clinked against any movement she made. The three of them across and waiting, it was now time for the problem two.

• “Don’t think about it, just do it”, Shadowheart yelled at them.
• “I find that a procedure like this usually requires at least a modicum of thinking, but not to worry!”, Gale shouted back.

He tentatively took his steps into the sand, and very methodically tried to recreate the maneuvers of the others, placing his feet in the pre-made footprint indents. At one point, his knee cracked after a particularly long step, which caused him to groan silently and utter what Astarion could have sworn was a curse- though Gale would never admit that. He nearly mucked it up at the very end, getting just a bit too close to one of the mushrooms, but the final few steps were accomplished without incident. He exhaled with poorly hidden relief, which soon turned to concern once he realized who’s turn it was. They kept quiet- they knew Adonis could be stealthy and quick when he needed to be, but his reputation with traps caused them concern.

Adonis had a hunch which he had been meaning to test. He fished the necklace he had found out of his pouch, and quickly slipped it on, tucking it underneath the collar of his shirt. It was certainly not his style, but he wasn’t overly concerned with making a fashion statement. Sure enough, as soon as the necklace was on, he felt those familiar tendrils of Weave curl around his fingers, but also his ankles. So the necklace was enchanted. And, if it was again what he suspected then…-

With an ethereal tug he felt himself be pulled forward with miraculous speed. He merely blinked and he was suddenly on the other side of the field. Only, he had overshot the distance he needed to go and was now on the other side of the small chasm, directly behind his companions. His sudden teleportation caught them all off guard, eliciting yelps and sounds of surprise.

• “How in the hells did you do that?!” Shadowheart squawked.
• “Magic necklace”.

They began to badger him about not surprising them like that when he felt something odd crunch beneath his boot. He lifted his foot to reveal tiny shards of a… seashell? He bent down and collected the pieces in his hands- definitely a shell. Looking around, there were a few more scattered in the dirt, along with bones that looked like they belonged to small fish skeletons. Odd… how did they get there? He couldn’t see any water, nor could he hear it. He stuck his head over the edge of the chasm, and felt the cool air being pushed up into his hair. Interesting…

• “Now what’s he doing?”
• “Great”, they all groaned as Adonis climbed down the rocks into the chasm.

When they all managed to successfully crawl through after him, they found themselves in a smaller annex of the greater caverns, one that was cold and damp thanks to the large lake it bordered. This seemed to be a runoff chamber for some of the water sources in the Underdark. It also smelled nauseatingly fishy. They walked over rope netting and plankboard stairs, eventually discovering the source of the rank smell. There were countless fishlike beings gathered in a circle, chanting in their garbled fish tongue as red magic glowed from their hands. Gale, unable to prevent himself from providing explanations about every little thing they encountered which triggered his memory, said,

• “Those, if I’m not mistaken, are kuo-toa. former mind flayer slaves that manifest their gods through sheer belief”.
• “Urgh, and they couldn’t manifest an air freshener”, Shadowheart groaned as she covered her nose.

Adonis, unable to prevent himself from wandering directly into whatever intrigued him, walked directly up to the creatures, despite the muffled urging of his companions to do anything but that. To their surprise though, the creatures didn’t pay him any mind. One of them, wearing long robes and a… creative hat, began to chant at the makeshift altar they had constructed.

• “Our blood to fill your oceeeeans, oh bleeessed BOOOAL! Our bones to build your teeemple in the deeeep!”

In response, a pulsating mass of questionable red fluid began to amass and froth upon the altar’s surface. It gargled and bubbled, eventually exploding, spraying bursts of gunk everywhere as a small almost-humanoid form solidified. It spoke- it’s nasally voice reverberating around the cavern.

• “WORDS, PRIEST. PROMISES. YOUR GOD WANTS PROOF. WANTS BLOOD.”

Oh dear. The kuo-toas finally did turn to Adonis then, and the priest among them warbled as it stared with bright yellow fish eyes.

• “YOU! Our Lord of Murder deeemands Sacrifice! You will be an offeeering for the greeeat god BOOOAL!”

Adonis could hear Gale whisper again behind him,

• “Actually, Bhaal is the God of Murder- OOF”, Lae’zel cut him off with an elbow to his stomach.

He turned back to the little creature standing on the altar. He was suspicious already. The presence it exuded wasn’t at all divine, but it was murderous. He got the vague impression that this being was some kind of trickster- a fey.

• “WELL PRIEST? BOOOAL WANTS A SACRIFICE! BOOOAL WANTS BLOOD”.
• “I don’t think that little creature is anything. Looks like fey to me”, Adonis nodded back at his companions, looking for confirmation.

They shrugged. The ‘god’ on the other hand roared with rage.

• “LITTLE? I AM A GOD. AND I’M GONNA RIP YOU- TEAR YOU- WEAR YOU FOR A HAT!”

In the outburst of emotion, the presence faltered and trickled away, reverting the creature to its basic nature.

• “Ahh, a redcap”.

The redcap looked at its hands and realized the magic had worn off. It cursed,

• “Ah. Bollocks. Don’t do anythin’ hasty now. The fishfolk got plenty of power- we can share”.
• “Bleeeesed Boooal… what…?” the fish priest whimpered.
• “Shut it you! I’m talkin’ to… my Chosen! Chosen got power- you want power, don’t ya?”
• “Uhm. I think not”.
• “URGH. Kiss my arse. I’m the Lord of Murder- I’ll show you why!”

The fey whipped out a sickle with a nasty warcry, and charged right for Adonis. Replicating the strategy he knew worked on Redcaps, he stuck out his foot and tripped it. It skidded on the floor, unfortunately not having the comedic sense to fall onto its sickle. He stabbed it through with his shortswords though, and that was that. The fish creatures gargled and chirped with awe. The priest shambled up to him and began to bow at his feet, making him stumble back in confusion.

• “You’ve slain the preeetender! We kneeew in our hearts the god BOOOAL was false!”
• “Uhhh…”
• “But you- we seee you. We know you by your true name… MAKLOOMPAH!”

Adonis heard the flamboyant laugh of Astarion, and the eventual snickers of his other companions. Even Lae’zel cracked a fraction of a smile. What the hells…

• “If they- ahaha- hah, ask for a sacrifice, I’d suggest virgins. Young and hot-blooded”, Astarion cackled.

Adonis didn’t know what to feel other than ‘made fun of’ by this entire encounter. These pitiful fish-things weren’t even worth his blades.

• “Whaaat, is to be your first command, oh greeeat god?”

Astarion laughed even harder.

• “Uhm… just keep doing what you’re doing… I suppose”, he mumbled.
• “Our blood to fill your oceeeans, great Makloompah! Our boneees to build your teeemple in the deeep!”
• “Uh huh”.

He slid away, leaving the kuo-toa to their own devices. His companions began to walk up the path to the exit- still laughing to themselves, but he did not follow.

Something was drawing the needle of his compass- something else down here besides that little spectacle. He could feel it; it was like there was a rope tied around his middle, and it was tugging him ever so slightly. Something stirred in his brain, something that felt familiar.

• Hmm…

He followed this compulsion, walking to the rotted dock that bordered the lake. There was nothing to see out there, only a fog beginning to roll in over the crystalline waters. He was ready to dismiss it as the musings of the tadpole, when he spotted just a few paces out from shore, a small deposit of dirt that was covered in glittering gold coins. Ah, it was just his lizard brain it want of shiny objects. There was no harm in indulging it. He hopped from the bank to the little island, and began to gather the coins into his pouch. There were only about a dozen or so, and he had plenty of coins already since he didn’t get to spend his surplus on a paid subscription to a revived bard every time his urge came calling, but he collected them nonetheless. He distinctly remembered Shadowheart and Astarion both getting in his face and impressing upon him the importance of gathering up every coin he could find, so that they could add it to what they called ‘the group funds’. He didn’t even know they had a collective account, but he agreed to try.

• How did these even get here? he wondered.

There was also a bottle of unopened wine- he suspected- sitting amongst the coins and stones. Perhaps this was a place where the kuo-toa put their offerings? There were some more clam shells and conches placed around the area, so that must have been it. The only thing that was out of place was a long golden tube, placed neatly on the center of the little island. It didn’t look like more liquor. He picked it up and ran his fingers over the cool metal exterior, and felt just one irregularity- a risen line going from one end to the next. He gently pulled at it and it unrolled, revealing an aged yellow paper- a scroll. It was covered in text, written in a firm but neat hand. His vision blurred the words, but something about this particular parchment was firing synapses in his mind. He brought the paper closer to his face, and began to read,

Once Bhaal's favour has quickened within one of

his beloved murderers, the bliss of his love is

nigh-indescribable. For he blesses his loyal with

a new sensation: a mindless, instinctual, primal

sensation that comes from within the bowels, an

erotic spasm that washes over the killer, in the

moment of murder. It is said that in that instant,

his Divine Essence can almost be tasted. Forsake

all other hedonisms, acolytes, for nothing can

compare. Until the true ecstasies of murder

wash over you, initiates, this scroll contains a

prayer, you may say after a kill, calling for the

Lord's disgrace to find its course in your body.

Bhaal… Lord of Murder? If Gale was to be believed, which Adonis thought he was, then this was indeed about the same god. This must have been where the kuo-toa got all their ideas from. But more than that… this sounded eerily familiar to his affliction. Surely it was a coincidence. Adonis prayed to no god, nor did he hear the whispers of the divine. The only whispers he heard were of his own making… at least he thought so. But this ritual sounded intentional, and what happened to him was more of an illness- it certainly felt like one. Although.. perhaps sometimes his choices were… intentional. Surely though.. this was not the same. He served no one, and asked for no blessings. His eyes drifted down the scroll, looking for the prayer, but there wasn’t one. There was only an unfinished poem.

When he returns to whence he came,

The Lord of Murder shall strike again.

From beyond the River he has made

A premiere subject to wield his blade.

To triumph over black and bone.

To coat the land in-

It cut off there. How unsatisfying. He released the scroll, letting it coil back into its tube, and tucked it in his bag.

• “Are you coming, darling?”

He turned his head, and saw Astarion waiting alone for him on the bank. He hopped back over and hummed,

• “Mhm”.
• “You really should say something before you wander off, you know. It would be quite unfortunate if you fell down a hole and I never got to see your dashing self again”.
• “Sorry”, he looked at the floor, unsure of what to say other than an apology.
• “Chin up. If you’re that keen to fall off a cliff I’m sure there will be ample opportunity to do so. Now, c’mon”.

They walked shoulder to shoulder out of the cave and back up into the torchstalk field.

Poeticism

Day 8

They were upon it now, the great stone structure. It didn’t look especially temple-esque, nor Selûnite or Sharran in nature, even from this distance away. Still, it was worth investigating. On their approach, they had to walk up a staircase and down the flat stretch of a paved yet open walkway. Lae’zel slowed down slightly, before saying

• “Here on the ground- scorch marks. Be on your guard”.
• “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. There aren’t any more mushrooms around-”, Gale started before being interrupted by a flash of blue light in the corner of his eye.

He averted his gaze but the light still persisted. His companions could see it, a thin beam of blue light that tracked his movements.

• “Well that can’t be good”, Astarion hummed.

As soon as he said it, there was a mechanical whirring and crackling sound. Lae’zel grabbed Gale by the scruff of his robes and yanked him back, just in time for a jolt of lightning to come arcing through the air to blast the spot where he just stood.

• “Ah, I stand corrected” Gale released himself from her hold.
• “We already have one klutz, we do not need another”, Shadowheart sighed.
• “I’m not a klutz-”
• “You are”.
• “You most certainly are”.

Gale straightened his clothes and corrected the cuffs of his sleeves.

• “I’ll have you all know that I graduated top of my class from the Blackstaff Academy and spent a lovely decade or so convening with the greatest minds Waterdeep has to offer regarding issues of fiscal management, trade, commerce, and Evocation. I can handle myself”.

They were not impressed.

• “Fine. Let me prove it to you”.
• “Should you really be-”, Adonis started before Gale held up a hand to stop him.

He put his back against the wall and quickly peeked around it. He could see what had sent to blast towards him- an arcane turret. He chuffed to himself, this would be light work indeed. He spoke with confidence, ready to show the others that he wasn’t entirely helpless.

• “Preruē”.

Lightning began to spark and dance around his fingers as he shaped a chromatic orb in his palm. He tossed it into the air and caught it again like a ball, showing off a little, before sending it towards the turret. It splashed onto the surface, creating an umbrella of electrified water which successfully interfered with the mechanism, scorching it black and rendering it dysfunctional. Success.

• “Woooow, good show”, Astarion offered him a few opera claps.
• “You see? I can help”.

They walked passed him, not offering any comments- all except for Adonis, who awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and said,

• “That was… nice”.
• “Thank you”, Gale cleared his throat.

He wasn’t exactly willing to inhabit the same proximity with the man yet, as the guilt was still lurking in his heart. While he would never be pushed to brash impoliteness, he didn’t have to offer anything but the most blanket courtesy to the man who was responsible for killing countless innocents. That was really only because a small part of himself knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight back properly if that blade ever turned on him, and he knew the consequences of such a thing would be disastrous to more than just himself.

• “Gale, there is another”, he heard Astarion call.
• “Right. Coming”.

Adonis watched him walk away, feeling the pincers of discomfort snip at his guts. He didn’t like this new dynamic between himself and Gale, but really it was between himself and all of them. Well… everyone except Astarion, but even then he still couldn’t tell if he was being played with or not. He promised in his mind that he really would try and stay on his best behavior- he wanted to resolve this conflict sooner rather than later.

With the final visible turret disarmed, they began to poke around the messy courtyard just outside the tower’s grand entrance. It looked like some kind of forge, though it was abandoned and cluttered. Astarion was in the process of cracking open another chest when he saw a paper on one of the workbenches, which he pointed out to Gale who was standing closest by. Gale quickly skimmed the page before clicking his tongue and looking confused.

• “This letter was from a ‘Lenore’ and it was addressed to someone called ‘Yrre’. It looks like they were lovers. I wonder, could this be in relation to Yrre the Sparkstruck? It’s hardly a common name”.
• “And who is that now darling? Another one of your wizard friends?”
• “Oh no, I’ve only heard of them through the scholarly grapevine. They were an inventor, and a rather talented one at that. Specialized in lightning”.
• “What a coincidence. We did just get shot at by lightning”.
• “Indeed”.

They saddled up to the large wooden door of the tower. Gale teetered back and forth a bit, obviously trying to fight the curiosity bubbling up inside him.

• “A wizards tower is a private place- intended for research and respite. But… seeing as this wizard’s not home… I say we take a peek”.
• “Way ahead of you dear”, Astarion was already jamming his tools into the lock of the door.

When the lock clicked, he pushed it open, only to be met with three glowing blue lines pointed right at his chest and a loud mechanical crackle. He quickly pulled the door shut in time for the lightning to blast the other side, nearly knocking him off his feet.

• “Gods! Well I tell you one thing, we will not be getting in that way”, he huffed.

Gale lit his fingers with tiny sparks again, but Adonis didn’t miss how he winced slightly, and fought the urge to grip his chest. Clearly, he was running out of steam. Perhaps it was a symptom of wanting things to be normal again, or perhaps it was simply the desires of a solution oriented mind, but Adonis began to look for alternative ways into the tower. He could scale the walls and pop in through a window, but who’s to say there wouldn’t be more turrets? He also didn’t think his companions would all be able to perform such a feat. He stepped off to the side of the door, inspecting the sides of the structure. It was quite tall, and it extended much further down than could be originally seen, itself also bordering water a hundred feet down. There were balconies on every presumed floor of the building, and large shelf mushrooms affixed to the sides of the cliff parallel to it. If one really wanted too… they could make it to the ground floor of the structure by making a few leaps from mushroom to balcony… all the way down. It certainly looked doable. He stepped up to the edge of the stone, and judged the distance to the first mushroom. Entirely easy, just a few feet across.

• “Ehm, what do you think you are doing?” Shadowheart questioned.
• “We can get to the bottom this way”.
• “Can we? And I suppose the ‘falling to our deaths’ part of that gamble doesn’t concern you?”
• “We won’t. Look”, he did the first jump, and tested his weight on the mushroom for added security.
• “Well I suppose that is better than getting blasted to bits”, Astarion nodded.

They worked their way down the mushrooms with relative ease, the only true obstacle being nerves. There was one particularly large gap, which the girls made it across just fine, but the disparity between muscle and intellect becomes most obvious when holding up the two extremes in comparison. Astarion narrowly made it across, but Adonis had to pull him that last inch. Realizing he had been saved from quite the fall, he smoothed his agitation into flattery- fluttering his eyelashes and whispering something about ‘a gentleman saving him from mortal peril’. Adonis released him and jumped onto the next mushroom with a faint pinkness to his ears. Lae’zel graciously caught Gale when he nearly took a tumble as well.

There was only one problem now. The jump from the last mushroom to the ground was too far to safely perform without the genuine risk of breaking legs. Adonis suggested an equivalent to ‘human ladder’ which was quickly shot down. However, Gale was still eager to prove himself a worthy addition to the adventuring party. He cracked his knuckles and said,

• “Se neme- now observe”.

He stepped up to the edge of the mushroom and jumped right off. When they peered over the side they expected to see a Gale colored splatter on the stone but he was perfectly fine, and he gave them a little bow for added measure.

• “Feather fall- I’ve applied it to you all”.

Sure enough, the slow descent onto the ground was risk-free, as though they weighed nothing. Adonis gave Gale a onceover to ensure that he didn’t overdo it but that particular spell didn’t seem too strenuous. And now, they were on a small patch of land that looked like a garden backyard. There were a few beds of dirt sporting some interesting fungal growths and Underdark fauna, but most captivatingly of all was a small tree sprouting up from the very back corner. It had silver bark and blue leaves. It was currently in bloom too, as flowers with orchid-like petals and glowing blue stamens softly glowed upon its branches. They were very beautiful- so far the most aesthetically pleasing plant they had seen. Adonis wandered closer to the tree hoping to inspect it further, but as he entered within the circumference of its glow, he felt a deep emptiness grow in his gut. It was as though something was seeping right out of his chest, leaving a great chasm that trickled down into his intestines, leaving him horribly uncomfortable. He quickly stepped away from the tree with a shudder.

• “What’s wrong?”
• “That tree… it’s weird”.
• “Weird? How so?”
• “See for yourself. Step closer”.

Gale was hesitant, but took a few paces forward to reach it. He too shivered- his hairs standing on end. He snapped his fingers a few times, and nothing happened.

• “My magic.. feels like it’s getting drained. Just by being near this plant”.
• “Really? Let me see”, Shadowheart said.

She flexed her hand in what Adonis recognized was an attempt to alight her holy flame, but to no avail.

• “Strange. Best we not linger around it for too long”.
• “Agreed”.

They went to the small back door of the tower, where Astarion was already busy at work with the lock. When it clicked open, he very cautiously pushed the door open, and was met with no blasts of lightning.

• “Ha, seems security does not extend to wizard basem*nts”.
• “Not all wizard basem*nts. In my tower-”
• “I do not recall anyone asking”, Lae’zel stopped him before he started.

This room wasn’t very large, half thanks to the sheer amount of machinery and duct work that covered the walls and ceiling. There were crates and shelves full of books, which Astarion and Gale happily began to comb through.

• “Tell me Gale, what is your policy on thievery?”
• “I would say that generally I frown upon it”.
• “Oh, is that so? So you plan on leaving all these perfectly good trinkets and baubles to collect more dust then?”
• “Well… we have no idea if the person who owns this tower had any plans on returning. They may very well be on holiday”.
• “We’re already breaking and entering”.
• “I suppose that’s true…”
• “Well no pressure of course. More for me”, he laughed with a devilish grin.

Adonis and Lae’zel were currently looking at a shelf full of bottles and vials, each filled with their own mystery fluid or powder. He reached up to grab one but she smacked his hand back down and gave him a look that said ‘don’t even think about it’. Shadowheart walked up some rickety wooden stairs and found what looked to be the carrying platform of an ornate elevator. However, it wasn’t in working order. Now that she was looking, none of the arcane braziers, piping, or mechanics seemed to be functioning.

• “I think the power is out”, she said to the others, “There must be some way to turn it on. Otherwise this is the only room we are seeing”.
• “Hmm, well this looks like it might be the solution”, Gale gestured to the large matrix of gears and metal parts sitting directly in the center of the room.

It was connected to the elevator and all the pipes. There was a small receptacle in front of it that was full of withered blue petals. As he was connecting the dots, Lae’zel said,

• “Look here. This wizard was writing a book”, she pointed to an open book on one of the cluttered workbenches.

Gale walked over and read the header: Treatise on the Antimagic Properties of Sussar Tree Flowers. It was unfinished, only the first paragraph being written down on the dusty page. Within the very thesis statement, the author claimed to have discovered a way to harness the flowers as a power source. That was all the confirmation he needed.

• “Adonis”.
• “Hm?”
• “Would you go outside and fetch one of those blue flowers and bring it here?”
• “Ok”.

He trotted back outside, and entered the draining aura of the tree once more. He selected a large blue bloom and delicately plucked it from the branch. They were very pretty, even if they made him uncomfortable. He turned his head to see if the others were looking, and slipped a thick glass bottle out of his bag. He had snatched it from the shelf when Lae’zel averted her gaze. He picked another flower and dropped it in the bottle, then screwed back on the lid, and tucked it in his bag. When he returned inside, he handed Gale the first flower, who placed it in the collection chamber of the device. As soon as he did so, a gear began to turn, sealing the flower inside the basin. There were a few more soft whirrs and clicks, then the machine hummed to life. Switches flipped and pipes started to rumble as every mechanism in the tour glowed with blue light. The arcane torches lit themselves, and the elevator hummed as it activated. Throughout the basem*nt, they could hear the sounds of electric and magical devices shaking off their coats of dust. The tower was awake once more.

• “Aha! That’ll do it”.
• “A flower as an energy source. How needlessly elaborate”, Lae’zel huffed, but even she could not hide her interest.
• “Now I’ll remind you all to tread carefully. You never know what surprises lay in wait in a place like this”.
• “Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience there Gale”, Shadowheart snickered.
• “Ah. Quite. A misadventure from my days as an apprentice at Blackstaff Academy”.

He stopped himself, not wanting to be interrupted again, but to his surprise they all looked ready to listen.

• “I was but a child, only a few months into my studies, but already I knew I was destined for greatness. No one believed me, of course, so I decided to prove it. To cast a spell with the Blackstaff itself”.
• “Oh dear”, Astarion put a hand on his chin with dramatic interest.
• “Oh dear indeed. From one perspective, I succeeded. I opened a portal. However, instead of pointing it at the first year dormitory, I found myself pulled into limbo, facing a very irritated Death Slaad. Fortunately, the Blackstaff himself came to the rescue, hauling me back from the brink, and straight into several months of writing lines. Or rather, finessing my autograph, hah”.

Adonis blew air out of his nose, almost laughing.

• “Now, much as I enjoy reminiscing about such tomfoolery, I believe we have a tower to explore”.
• “Oh please, you were dying to tell that story”, Shadowheart smiled.

As they filled up the stairs to the elevator Lae’zel spoke,

• “You’ve a particular way with words Gale. Perhaps oration would suit you better than battle”.
• “They’re not mutually exclusive. The Weave is best served with a dash of eloquence. Besides, let it never be said that I don’t appreciate both sides of the aisle. Your battle stance is certainly striking”.
• “Hrath ajak- a technique known to few outside K’liir. Shall I teach you?”
• “No no, that's quite alright. I still prefer abjuration to acrobatics”.

Adonis, Astarion, and Shaodwheart exchanged a look, surprised that Lae’zel was almost being personable,and with Gale no less. They had a silent wager that she was going to kill him before the end of the day. When they had all filed into the elevator, Gale tapped the button labeled ‘Ascend’ with his foot, and the device began to lift them through the ceiling.

The second floor was just as cluttered as the first, but this one looked like it functioned as more of a greenhouse to some interesting species of mushrooms. They were massively overgrown, as if they had not been attended to in quite some time. Adonis happily inspected them, and despite common sense dictating to not do this, he poked and sniffed each one, eliciting sneezes every other shroom. Astarion threw open the doors to one of the balconies to inspect the view, letting more light into the room as well. With the further illumination, Adonis could see a book high up on one of the fungal shelves. He reached up and grabbed it, blowing the dust and spores off of the cover. Flipping open the pages, it was mostly ruined beyond comprehension, either by time or vermin. Gale walked over as he was looking for something legible, and he held the book lower so he could see it too.

• “Ah, there”, Gale pointed to a page that was mostly intact.

Two full lines were all that was visible. Gale read aloud,

• “How can I trust? How will I ever know? How can I show myself, my darkest me?”
• “Mm”, Adonis hummed.
• “Looks like a play. The owner seemed to be quite the literary type”.
• “Yes…”, he was going to say more but Gale walked away.

The third floor was the main floor- the one that had the three arcane turrets that fired lightning. However, in activating the tower, they must have deactivated the security measures. This floor was mostly machine parts and barren bookshelves. The only books that remained were again, plays. Only this time, the most legible one that Adonis could read was of a different make than the last. This one seemed to be by a different author. He quietly read it to himself, slowly working through the blurred words.

• “There is a light in every living thing. It’s crawling t’wards the surface to survive. And in its wake, it tramples everything. We’ll kill the rest, so that the one can thrive”.

The stanza was twice encircled with blue ink. He wondered what that meant, and why it was specifically noted. He set the book back down, and filed into the elevator when the rest were ready to progress.

The fourth floor was pretty destroyed, with holes in the ground and one of the walls entirely crumbled away. From this side of the tower, they could see a new angle of their previous view. There was a small settlement on the shore of a little beach not far from the tower, that they agreed to try next. As for the rest of the level, it looked like the personal living quarters of whoever used to reside here, who they again agreed, was probably long gone. They split up, each sorting through the massive shelves of books, the collections of chests and crates, and pilfering whatever items of value they could find. Adonis migrated towards the corner, where there was yet another workbench full of disintegrating papers and a few letters. He picked up one. It read.

Dearest Lenore,

I'm not sure I should say this, but your last letter

really worried me. Why in all Hells would you tame

a bulette? Just because you found it near Myrna's

grave doesn't mean that that's a sign. I'm really

worried about you, Lenore. A bulette is not a pet.

Using it as a guardian is one thing, but you sound

quite taken by it. I know you don't want to come

back before you finish your research, but if you

are feeling lonely, you know my door is

always open.

Lots of love and hugs,

Amarith

PS: It really warms my heart to hear that

you put the autumncrocus flowers on Myrna's

grave. I remember she liked to roll around in

them, even though she'd always sneeze after.

She was such a soft, loyal dog.

I wish there was more I could do.

Hm. Taming a Bulette? He wondered if it was really true. This Lenore person seemed to be quite the colorful person. He moved across her workbench, reading more of her letters and papers, until he came across a page that looked like it had been torn out of a book. The writing was blotted out by little splotches on the paper, but he could just make it out.

• “Gale. More poetry”.
• “Ah, really?”

He put down the scrolls he was inspecting and stepped over, leaving a healthy distance between the two of them. He took the paper from Adonis and read aloud again,

• “The silence stretches on- I’m all alone. Please, can I hold your hands, for just a while”.

From somewhere else in the room they heard Astarion scoff.

• “Tch, how melodramatic”.
• “Quite. I believe our Lenore and Yrre were having some.. issues.. with interpersonal relations”.
• “That is a very wordy way to say ‘it didn’t work out’’.
• “Well it’s not entirely clear-”

Adonis tuned them out and began to inspect the multitude of bookshelves. There were several titles, and to his relief, Lenore had organized them by topic. He scanned the spines of the books, looking for anything that caught his eye when he grazed over the large collection of A is for Azuth and Other Gods. There were nearly seven volumes. He picked up the last one in the row, and flipped to a random page. What a coincidence, he landed on ‘S’.

Selûne guides us through the night.

She is the moon, the stars her tears.

Her sister tries to douse her light,

But she protects us from our fears.

Shar will take your sorrow from you

But beware: her night is dark.

She'll hide your pain, and secrets too.

And all your joy, and all your spark.

Interesting. He didn’t know which he preferred. He sorted through the books, skimming through them and reading a few odd passages here and there about the domains and rites of the gods previewed in the opening poetry. Until he came upon ‘B’.

You should not ever pray to Bhaal,

The savage Lord of Murder,

His worshippers are killers all

who spread His darkness further.

So not a popular god then. Adonis knew that his own special brand of bloodlust induced lunacy was frowned on for different reasons than typical killing- he knew that without needing it spelled out to him. But killing itself? An odd dilemma. Sometimes it is necessary, and sometimes it is not, but how did one determine which is which? He stopped himself there; that particular conversation was much too philosophical for him in his current state.

He noticed then, on the very top of the shelf, an oddly shaped object- not a book at all, but a slate. He lifted it free of its cobweb prison and dusted it off. Its cool silver exterior and inlaid gems looked familiar- it was githyanki made.

• “Lae’zel”.
• “Speak”.
• “Come look at this”.

When she caught sight of the slate in his hand, her eyes widened and she rushed over. She snatched it out of his grasp and ran her clawed fingers over it.

• “Tir’su markings. Ancient. I recognize them, but I can’t make sense of… no, wait. The texts are enciphered, but I’ve solved the pattern. It’s..”

Her expression darkened to a deep scowl, and she curled her lip at the disk.

• “It’s a story. About- about Orpheus”, she spat.
• “Who?”
• “A traitor. A dead one. This text is heresy. I can hardly bear to read it, let alone speak it”.
• “...”
• “...”
• “Can I hear it?”
• “Chk. Very well”.

The others gathered around her, mildly interested to see what got her more bent out of shape than she usually was.

• “The Prince of the Comet, Part One”.
• “What a title-”, Astarion started.
• “Do not interrupt me”.
• “Ugh”.
• “The Prince of the Comet, Part One. ‘So it was that we were free from ghaik shackles and turned our blades on each other. The heavens were shattered, and one great empire was divided in two. Gith traveled to the Hells to broker help for her people, her cause. Vlaakith would have you believe Mother Gith proclaimed her our queen. Lies! Gith made no such proclamation. Vlaakith seized the empire against the Mother’s wishes. But Gith has nurtured a son. Orpheus, Prince of the Comet, the True Heir! He knew Vlaakith’s treachery. Orpheus rallied Gith’s honor guard and declared the throne for himself. The War of the Comet had begun”.

Lae’zel tossed the slate down to the floor with a glare, then turned her attention back to her audience.

• “Disregard this- this drivel. Gith declared Vlaakith queen of the empire, and her own son defied her. Orpheus would have ceded control to the ghaik”.
• “It’s only a story”, Shadowheart tossed her braid.
• “A ludicrous one, at that. Vlaaktih seized the empire from my peoples very mother. The queen would take even a child’s head for so much as whispering this rubbish”.
• “Do you know the rest of the story?” Adonis asked.
• “I know of the historical event. This narrative speaks of heresy which I am not privy to”.
• “So….”
• “No. I do not know the rest”.
• “Ah, well thanks”.

When they finished up in this room, all a few items richer, they filed into the elevator to visit the top floor. It was apparent that this final level was different from the rest, being that it had no ceiling and more noticeably, was covered in animated suits of armor. They clanked about, but stopped aimlessly walking when they saw the adventurers step out of the elevator. The party were about to draw weapons when a loud clanking came from behind them. From the shadows appeared a large automaton, who mechanically stepped in front of them, barring their movement. It spoke in a disembodied and echoey voice.

• “New sounds through damp and dark oppression, break. Is it the foe, that foul contemptuous heel?”

Adonis and Gale looked at each other, recognizing that line from a stanza of the play they had been reading pieces of. Adonis nodded and Gale hesitantly spoke.

• “Or art thou friend, a rescue from my lonely wake?”
• “Come out of love for me, not love for blood and steel…”, the automaton bowed, “Command as you see fit, my lord, my liege”.

The party shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.

• “Don’t get me wrong. I love poetry as much as the next wizard, but using it to command an automaton… seems a bit self-indulgent to me”.
• “Really? Self indulgent even to you?” Astarion teased.

Adonis turned his eyes to the automaton again, as it was still standing there, waiting for its next command. He elected to try his luck too.

• “How can I trust? How will I ever know? How can I show myself, my darkest me?”
• “If you do not your deepest secrets show? Reveal your truth, give what you wish to see”.

It reached its metal hand into a compartment within its chest and pulled out a glittering ring with a pink gem inlaid on the surface. It took Adonis’ hand- which unsettled him greatly- and slid the ring onto his pointer finger.

• "Wowww, well I believe you’ve just been betrothed to a robot darling”, Astarion laughed.
• “What do I do”, Adonis eyed the ring with suspicion.
• “Well I suspect that’s all we’re going to get out of this tower. We could probably leave now”.
• “Sounds excellent. Any more romantic poems and I’m liable to lose my breakfast”, Shadowheart nodded.

As they took the elevator down to the main floor, Adonis noticed something. The lower down they got, the more the ring started to glow. The others started to step out of the lift when he stopped them,

• “Wait. This ring… I think it’s linked to the elevator. Let’s go just a few more floors down and see”.

Astarion and Shadowheart rolled their eyes but got back in regardless. Sure enough, as soon as the elevator screeched to a halt on the bottom floor, the ring began to glow brightly, and a third button rose out of the metal surface of the lift controls. Adonis smiled broadly, glad to be right. He pressed the button, and the elevator began to descend into the true, secret,basem*nt.

It was another workshop. It was full of yet more books and more devices and more scrolls. Gale and Adonis drifted to the workbench in its smallest corner. Upon it, they found the last edition to the great saga.

These empty sheets are all that’s left you,

The last of all the thoughtless gifts you gave.

I will hold onto them; it’s all that I can do.

I can’t throw them away; I’ve never been that brave.

They made brief eye contact after reading it, and both awkwardly cleared their throats, pretending to look interested in the fine craft of the bench itself.

• “Wait, look here. It looks like.. A diary. Of L.D.H.”.

Ever nosy, Gale flipped it open, and fanned the book until the last written page.

2 Alturiak, 1481 DR

Who would have thought, three years ago, that I

would start a diary - not a research journal, but

a real diary. I guess when every soul is more like

to kill you than converse with you, talking to a

book starts making sense. And who would have

thought, three years ago, that I would be called

back to Baldur's Gate to confer with the other

clerics of Mystra, right at the apex of my studies:

I have all the pieces, but I have barely started my

treatise. No matter. I will take my ring with me,

to show them a glimpse of the possibilities.

I will leave you, my dear book, here, together

with the rest of my research,

waiting to be finished.

I should be back before next Ches.

- L.D.H.

• “Ah.. I suppose… she never did come back”.
• “That’s… sad”.
• “Such is life. Sometimes love isn’t enough”, Gale set the book down and walked to the elevator.

The ride up and back was in silence.

When they finally exited the tower, they walked down the sloping hillside until they reached the little settlement that bordered the great black lake. It looked quite abandoned and destroyed from this side, with the buildings all falling to pieces and the platform floorboards rotting beneath their feet. They walked along a creaking rope bridge, from one side of the camp to the next. Here though, they found something that did not suggest abandonment. There were bodies, reasonably fresh, and unreasonably small. Deep gnomes, Adonis guessed. They also looked like they had been executed, as each had a slash to their throats, yet there were no puddles of blood. Looks like this is where whoever had been doing this decided to dump them. Adonis crouched down to inspect them, grateful to get a whiff of blood again. He patted around their pockets, finding nothing of value. However, as he adjusted the vest of one especially squirrely looking gnome, he felt something stiff and firm press against his fingers. He stuck his hand up the back of their shirt and winced, pulling back a bloodied finger. Could it be?

He pulled a shortsword out of the lining of their clothes. It was quite the handsome blade, and holding it up to the steelforged, it was scarily similar in make and rigidity. We waved it around, a big smile on his face, and he looped it into his belt, placing the iron one it replaced into one of his bags. He almost felt that the universe had provided this sword just for him, seeing as he has so recently set his sights on getting a new one. Even more appropriate that it matched its other half, and the first blood it drew in his possession was his own. How poetic… how strange. He heard the others make some comment about how’ he didn’t need deadlier weapons, he managed just fine on his own’, but he elected to ignore them. He would call this sword, First Blood.

They continued poking around the little ruined village, only finding trash and no further evidence of activity. That was until, with a particularly loud floorboard creak, they startled the individuals hiding out. One materialized before them, losing his cloak of invisibility as he pointed a crossbow at them. Three more appeared, surrounding them. Adonis was surprised that they had managed to sneak up on him, so he put up his hands in peace to see where this was going. Their ambushers were also short, but more broad. Not gnomes…. duergar- perhaps? One of them shouted.

• “Gekh! Got someone sneaking up on us here!”

From out of one of the houses, a duergar holding a battle axe lazily walked out. Adonis immediately noticed an amulet around his neck- the symbol of the Absolute. He sent a tadpole message to the others.

• “Cultists. Stay your blades”.

The duergar gave him an unbothered look, grinding the blade of his axe on the floor.

• “What’s this? Got ourselves an infiltrator? You move pretty quietly. But not quietly enough. Noise gets you eaten down here. Reckin I’ll hush you, before something hungry comes along”.

Adonis had to hold back an eyeroll.

• “We’re followers of the Absolute too, you know”.
• “That so? No bad thing to have more of the Absolute’s warriors to hand I suppose…might help make shorter work of this mess”.
• “What mess?”
• “Hunting. Slave ran away. Took Sargent Thrinn’s boots. Got to kill the slave and fetch back the leather, or the bosses in Moonrise’ll have Thrinn’s hide”.
• “And where is Sergeant Thrinn?”
• “She's with the rest of our expedition, across the lake. Special mission for the Absolute”.

That sounded exactly like what he was looking for. If that’s where the cultists were, then that is where Nere would be. But how to get there? He noticed that these duergar had a raft moored to the dock of the lake. He could take it, if need be, but he was specifically trying to maintain their cover as True Souls. Hmm, well… he did like hunting.

• “Maybe we can help”.
• “Help? You don’t even know what you’d be up against. Slave’s got herself some protection- hiding up there in a myconid circle. Can’t get past those bloody rotflowers. They get in your head, make you see things. Half my squad jumped off a cliff, laughing. I’ll wait here. She’ll have to make a run for it eventually. Then I’ll get her”.
• “We can do it”.
• “Oh really. Good. Do well and there might be a reward for you back at camp. But that comes later. Boots first, then you’ll get what’s coming to you”.
• “Does it matter… what happens to the body?” He could hear his companions groan behind him.
• “Do what you will with the body, I couldn’t care less”.
• “Bye then. We’ll be back… eventually”.

The duergar signaled for his associates to let them go, and they took the opportunity to walk right out of the village. Adonis turned around, figuring that this time, he should actually explain what he was doing.

• “We need to get across the lake. That’s probably where Nere- and the harp- are”.
• “We’re not actually going to kill a slave are we?” Gale asked.

Adonis opened his mouth but no sound came out. Then he titled his head with an involuntary twitch of his eye.

• “Noooo… we are.. not.. going to do that”, he sounded very pained saying it.
• “Uh huh. Right, well… do you promise?”
• “Promise?”
• “Mhm”.

Adonis bit his lip.

• “Mmmm… I-”, he slowly blinked, “...don’t think I can promise that”.
• “You cannot be serious. You would kill a slave??”
• “Well I don’t want to lie-”
• “Don’t bother explaining yourself. I think it’s best if we make camp for today”.
• “A-alright”.

Gale marched off, followed by Lae’zel and Shadowheart, who were toting around a majority of the supplies in their packs. Astarion strolled up behind Adonis and grazed his hand along the small of his back, getting a flinch for a reaction.

• “You know, I don’t care what happens to some gnome slave, but you couldn’t even make the promise just to appease the wizard?”
• “Well I can’t guarantee I won’t kill the slave”.
• “That’s fine, but you have heard of bending the truth before haven’t you?”
• “If I make a promise… ideally.. I would like to keep it. That’s all”.
• “Tsk, honestly. I don’t understand you. I never took you for the integrous type”.
• “I’m not. I just… well… nevermind”.
• “Whatever you say darling. Shall we? We don’t want to let them get too far ahead”.
• “Ok..”

Gross Error in Judgement

Night 8

They made camp in a little cave that bordered a cliff of the black lake. There were bioluminescent fungi and algae to provide light where a torch might not. Adonis watched his companions retrieve their tents from the large camp-chest dimension, along with all their furnishings. To his surprise, similar to the last time they had assembled camp, his companions were putting out items he never recalled seeing before. There were more personal aspects to every tent now. Lae’zel had managed to find a training dummy, which currently had her greatsword lodged in its head. She had also set up a rack for drying out the hides of animals, which currently had what he thought was a deer pelt in the process of turning into leather. Shadowheart had added to her assortment of plants and pots. She now had a low wooden table in front of her tent which held her books and armor when she changed out of it. Astarion had sort of an eclectic collection of items now, also including a table. His table held an ornate mirror and candles, and Adonis could see a sizable stack of books through the crack in his tent flap. He had laid out more cushions and rugs to splay out on, which was also what he was currently doing.

Interestingly enough, Shadowheart and Astarion had set their tents relatively close to one another. Adonis’ brain whispered to him that they might have formed some kind of alliance- one he wasn’t a part of, but he dismissed the thoughts and reminded himself that it wasn’t any of his business. Lae’zel’s was close to the center of camp, as per usual, and Gale… Adonis peered around until he found Gale’s tent on the higher loop of the campsite, far away from everyone else. He decided to leave him be. He was going to look for his own place to sequester himself when he saw a red ball come sailing through the air and bounce off the wall a few feet from his head. Scratch came running after it, giving Adonis a wide berth, and running back to Shadowheart, who appeared from behind some large mushrooms. Adonis wandered over to her.

• “Where did he come from?” he pointed towards Scratch.
• “I told him to wait until I called for him”.
• “He walked all the way here?”
• “No, I summoned him”, she laughed.
• “Huh? How”.
• “Find… uhm… find familiar. It’s a thing you can do with certain animals- he’s not mine of course! I’m only doing it for convenience".
• “Right…”
• “You should say something to Gale you know”.
• “W-what, why?”
• “We can’t have our camp cook be in a mood. You wouldn’t want him to spike your food would you?”
• “He wouldn’t do that…”
• “Are you sure?”
• “Yes. Well…”
• “Exactly”.

She waved the ball for Scratch again, and followed him after she threw it. Adonis rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do. He didn’t want Gale to be upset enough to actually poison him, but at the same time he didn’t know what else he could do. He truly couldn’t promise he wouldn’t kill anyone, much less a slave that no one would miss. And not that he would want to promise that anyway….no, no. He needed to be on his best behavior. Ugh, but he was no good at this part! What words could he say that would make the situation better? He eyed Gale from behind a rock, formulating a plan. Then, he saw Gale wipe his brow with his arm… and clutch at his chest again. Looks like he had overdone it. Adonis put aside his reservations and slinked over to him.

• “Gale…”
• “Not now.. just… leave me be”.
• “You need an artefact… don’t you?”
• “Perhaps… but I would rather not accept one from you at this time”.
• “Mm… I understand. But… didn’t you say it would be bad- if you had none I mean?”

Gale sighed, grimacing as he gripped at his chest- his tattoo started to flicker. He looked resigned.

• “Indeed… I.. urgh.. did. If you wouldn’t mind then”.
• “Here”, Adonis slipped the automaton's ring off of his finger.
• “I- your ring? But.. grh.. don’t you collect them?”
• “I do but…. how did you know that?”
• “I’ve seen you count them. You don’t-”
• “Take it Gale”.

He didn’t hesitate the second time, gingerly taking the ring and holding it up to his chest. The tattoo glowed bright- the swirling black magic leeched the Weave right out of the ring, reducing it to dust that blew away with light breeze.

• “Ugh.. It is a strange experience each time anew- like a lost soul is spelunking through the darkness that is me, only to be sacrificed on the dread altar of the heart. But… this doesn’t feel quite right… It never feels right, but it relieves. This doesn’t relieve… Unngggh”, Gale doubled over.
• “Gale? What’s wrong?” Adonis held his hands up, entirely unsure of what to do.
• “The magic isn’t having the effect it should have. It’s not like the last time, like a rainstorm that quells a forest fire.. Gh.. it merely drizzles. The embers still sizzle. The fire remains undefeated”.

Adonis couldn’t help but feel that Gale was being curtly deliberate with his word choice, but he would worry about that later.

• “I’m not certain what’s going on, but nothing good. Please, I need to think… I need to retrace my steps to a glade of calm and think”.
• “O-ok…uhm… alright” Adonis started to back away.

Before he got too far, he turned around and said,

• “Gale… I promise not to kill the slave”, then he slinked away.

There was no pond for him to sink into at this campsite. The closest water was the murky lake about a forty foot drop from the cliff’s edge of their campsite. When Shadowheart saw him standing there considering it, she snapped her fingers at him like she would Scratch and said ‘absolutely not’. So now he was pouting by laying like a starfish in the grass by the campfire. He had stripped down to just his pants, leaving his socks, boots, and camp shirt in a pile with all his other things. He had no idea what time it was because there was no moon or stars. For all he knew it could still be daytime and they had set up camp before the sun even set. The most concrete fact was that his eyes were feeling very heavy. He was tired, both emotionally and physically, but he couldn’t sleep. He knew that. He knew it deep in his heart that he couldn’t. He could certainly fall asleep faster than one could say ‘goodnight’, but he meant ‘couldn’t’ as a shoe in for ‘shouldn’t’. He had no idea what might happen if he did, with the urge behaving as it was right now. More than anything however, he didn’t want to be in that dream again- the one that caused him actual pain whenever he awoke from it. He felt his heart start to quicken at even the slightest thought of it, and his hands started to shake.

No. He couldn’t do this. He would need to find something to keep himself busy. His companions were all tucked away now, and he didn’t think they would want to talk to him anyway. Instead, he pulled his bag to his lap and stuck his hand inside, rooting around for anything that might take his mind off things. He felt some books and papers, rocks and acorns, gemstones and trinkets, and finally his hand closed on something smooth and cold. He lifted it out of his bag, and there it was- the vial that Minthara had given him. He held it in his hand, then brought it to his chest. He bet that if she was here, she would talk to him. Drow didn’t need to sleep, he didn’t think, so she could stay up with him all night, and he wouldn’t have to suffer by himself. Although, if her thoughts were any indication, she would keep him up in a different way, and that was a different kind of suffering. But anything would be preferable to this. He gripped the tube tighter, bending the metal slightly when suddenly,

Shrrrrkkk

A high pitched growling sound was emitted from the tube.

• What the..

He squeezed it again, bending the metal even further inward, and this time he was met with,

tink

Something was moving inside the vial. He sat up, rolling the tube around in his hands, only to hear more tapping coming from inside. He pressed his ear to the metal, listening closely for…

Krrrrrrrtttt

Suddenly the tadpole in his brain began to thrash around, causing him to lightly cry out and grab at his eye. The tadpole squirmed, whipping his brain and stabbing at the back his eyeball. He felt the psionic pressure take over and connect him to… ANOTHER TADPOLE!? He dropped the vial on the ground and shuffled backwards.

He should have known better. Of course he would never actually receive a good present. It made sense now- the Absolute’s ‘boon’ was just another True Soul maker. Figures. He doubted Minthara knew that’s what it was when she gave it to him, but it was disconcerting nonetheless. He looked around for a rock to crush the thing with when he paused. He remembered then, in the back of his mind, the words of his dream visitor, ‘Your instinct is to resist the power it gives, but you must accept it, nurture it’. That was fine and good, but he didn’t think that meant he actually had to consume more tadpoles. His resident tadpole purred, egging him on. Quite literally every instinct he had was screaming that this was wrong- that he shouldn’t. But… that beautiful man… he said it would help him. Worst comes to worse and he would become a mind flayer- then Lae’zel could kill him and he would be free. That didn’t sound too bad right about now.

He picked up the vial, unscrewed the lid, and tentatively dumped the tadpole into his hand. It was a hideous thing, all teeth and sinew. It squirmed in his grasp, so he picked it up by the tail. It didn’t protest, it already knew what he was doing. He cringed, baring his teeth at it and already regretting his choice. But he would have nothing at all if he didn’t follow through on his choices. He held the tadpole up to his ear and without even missing a beat it leapt out of his hand and into his ear canal.

Yes. This was a terrible idea. The tadpole lashed the inside of his ear as it wrestled its way to his brain. He felt a skull splitting pain as it pushed right past his ear drum. He thrashed and rolled around on the ground, clapping his hands over his mouth so as not to let out a bloodcurdling scream. He could actually feel the new tadpole slide across the inside of his head. The resident tadpole was territorial, having had free rein of his mind for so long. He felt dig into the meat of his brain as it bit down on the other, absorbing its magic and its husk. Thick liquid started to spill out of his ear, where it splattered on the floor much to his horror. His tadpole was triumphant, and it wiggled with delight at the new powers afforded to it. Good, he thought, because that was quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen to anyone ever.

He didn’t even feel any stronger- he felt predictably awful. And now he had slime oozing out of his ear, as well as partial deafness. Lovely. He would not be doing that again. He winced as he tried to stand up, equilibrium thoroughly ruined, and hobbled his way to the center of camp. He picked up a rag from the wash pile and held it to his ear. It came away with yellow goo and blood. Absolutely disgusting.

He huffed as he sat back down in his patch of grass, and threw the empty vile over the side of the cliff. That was the last time he would ever let himself be fooled by a pretty face both in the waking world or otherwise. He crossed his arms, still reeling at his own foolishness. His eyelids were even heavier now, and they threatened to fall down over his wakeful spirit.

• No, I won’t sleep. I won’t. I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t… I won’t…. I won’t… I…. won’t…. I-I…

He was on his back, they were cutting him open. He could feel them pull the lungs right out from under his ribs. He wanted to scream so badly but with no breath there was nothing he could do to express his displeasure. He couldn’t even move his hands to claw at them because he had been restrained. Something was broken in both his arms, he could tell, but he couldn’t determine what. His blurry vision afforded him nothing, only a faded silhouette getting closer and closer and closer to his face. Closer still…

• “NOO!” He screamed, shooting up from his slumber with sweat spilling from his brow.

He breathed so quickly, he almost felt like he might pass out again. When his sight returned, he was almost blinded by the brightness of it. The weightlessness… he was back in the dreamscape. He swiveled his head and sure enough, there he was… the beautiful paladin. His back was turned but he was recognizable from any angle.

• “I promised I’d be back”.

Adonis rolled onto his knees and then onto his feet. He wouldn’t let himself act a fool this time. But then the elf turned to face him and he lost all of his nerve.

• “Don’t worry- I have things under control. For now. I see you’ve decided to use the tadpole-good”, he smiled.

Adonis decided then that he’d consume one hundred more tadpoles if the man would smile like that at him again.

• “But things haven’t gone as you expected. You hoped a druid as powerful as Halsin might be able to remove your tadpole. But he couldn’t. You’re desperate to be rid of it. Understandable, but you’re looking for solutions in the wrong places”.
• “Who a-are you?” Adonis had only the mind for that question.
• “It’s complicated. But I’m an adventurer, just like you. Just like you I was infected with a mind flayer parasite and just like you, I seek to be free of it. But to do that, we’ll need to think beyond local healers. Your parasite is unusual- it is wrapped in magic that prevents its removal. Until the source of the tadpole’s magic is destroyed, any attempt to remove it will kill you. You were lucky that Halsin knew this. His instincts were right.
• “Oh..”

• “The parasites are merely a sickness of a greater sickness in Faerûn”.

• “Sickness? What is it?”
• “The Absolute’s aims are not yet clear to me. But its progress towards domination is clear. These parasites are more than illithid spawn- they are vessels for control. The infected hear the voice of the Absolute, and believe it to be a god. That is how the cult of the Absolute is spreading”.
• “I suppose that m-makes sense”.
• “The highest of their rank- the True Souls- carry a tadpole just like yours. It is how they receive their orders. It is what makes them obey. When the order to transform is given, it will not be a matter of days- they will be mind flayers in an instant”.
• “That's… not good”.
• “No, it’s not. Were it not for my protection, so would you”.
• “Then… can you help me? My mind.. it… it tells me to.. to..”
• “I protect you from becoming a mind flayer- I cannot protect you from yourself”.

Adonis looked to the ground, an immeasurable disappointment making it’s home in his heart.

• “...But… I know what it is like to be burdened by forces outside of your control. We are alike, you and I. I’ve been trying to escape from this evil for a long time. Once, I almost succeeded. Now, through you, I’ve been given another chance. You can go where I cannot. And I can protect you from that evil. If we work together, we may turn this around”.

The man grimaced suddenly, turning his head as a look of discomfort creased the lines of his gorgeous face.

• “Hells, they need me. I have to go”.
• “W-wait! What do you need me to do?”
• “The power I use to protect you, I stole it from someone. They want it back. I will hold them off as long as I can, but sooner or later I will be worn down. You must discover the source of the magic that controls the parasites before that happens. The cultists are gathering at Moonrise towers. Use the powers the tadpole gives you to convince them you are one of them. And when you find the source of their magic, destroy it. Go. Our freedom depends on it”.

With that, the man snapped his fingers, and Adonis awoke again on the grass of the camp. His heart was beating out of his chest, either from terror or some other emotion that was unknown to him. His skin itched and buzzed, blood racing, head pounding. The beast was calling, and it was hungry.