When she came to the cliff he had described to her, she saw – and heard – that it was occupied already. A Tiefling bard had put up camp and played one tune on her lute, over and over again.
The bard did not notice Tsisk, who just stood close by, leaning on a rock and watched her struggle with that tune and a verse that would not come out as intended. For some time, Tsisk lost herself in the music while she felt the sun on her scales, the wind that billowed her clothes and brought the taste of salt from the shore to her lips.
The singing ceased, which displeased her. But the voice that had accompanied her daydreaming now cut through it instead: „Hello, stranger! Since you were listening to my struggles for so long, would you mind helping me with my song?" Tsisk opened her eyes and saw the bard, clad in gaudy clothes that somehow matched the tint of her hair and skin, and adorned with little tingling bells that accentuated her every movement.
A friendly, happy smile invited her in and with the urge calmed, Tsisk felt comfortable and warm throughout in her presence. Her own face unconsciously turned into a smile, too.
Together, the both of them sat on the cliffs, while Alfira worked on her song. She wanted to write it in honour of her deceased mentor, to remember her by it. She told Tsisk how they had to flee Elturel, their home city, after the hells had opened and swallowed it whole, before heroes could return it back to its place in the Heartlands of Faerûn. The people had exiled them for being decendants of hellish creatures, even though they had fallen victim to the hells horrors just as them. And on their Flight, many of the Tieflings died from hunger, foes or sometimes just simple heart-break.
Her Mentor, Lihala, had died defending her from Gnolls attacking them on their way to Baldurs Gate, just before they sought shelter in the grove. Tsisk sensed that Alfira just needed to vent her story to someone and happily lent her ear to her. When she was finished, Alfira seemed more light-hearted and clear-minded than before.
„Thank you for listening to me. It's all so close right now and no one seems to have time for another ones misery when they have their own to consider."
„I am happy to be of help." Tsisk answered, and meant it.
Alfira began playing again, tentatively at first, but then with more passion than before. All of her grieve and pain and heartache she had told Tsisk of before now channeled into her song. Whatever she had struggeled with had now vanished and a beautiful, sad melody floated down to the waves that languidly lapped at the rocks.
Dance upon the stars tonight
Smile and pain will fade away
Words of mine will turn to ash
When you call the last light down
Moon reminds me of your grace
All the love I can't repay
Rest and know that I will pray
Farewell my dear old friend
Moon, sun, all remind me of your grace
Faith. Care. All the love I can't repay
Moon, sun, all remind me of your grace
Faith. Care. All the love I can't repay
Dance upon the stars tonight
Smile and pain will fade away
Words of mine will turn to ash
When you call the last light down
Moon reminds me of your grace
All the love I can't repay
Rest and know that I will pray
Farewell my dear old friend
Dance upon the stars tonight
Smile and pain will fade away
For a few precious moments, Tsisk felt free of her sorrows, free from fear and free of her urges, while she looked at the setting sun.
„I wish I could hear your beautiful singing every evening, to remind me of this day." She mused aloud.
Alfira laid her own hand on Tsisks „Thank you for saying that. It is everything a bard wants to hear."
When the sky began to burn in the most intense hues of orange and red, Alfira said „So I gather you are an adventurer? Where are you headed to?"
„I belong to a group of adventurers. We all have a common problem and are seeking a solution. At the moment it looks like that solution might be the druid
Halsin which went missing a few days ago. After that, we will see." Tsisk answered.
A lively, happy grin grew on the bards face „That sounds wonderful! I hate sitting around and waiting for things to change – or not – and Halsin actually advocated for us. He would help us against that vile woman, maybe even stop her from that stupid ritual. You do not happen to have the space for a bard to accompany you, do you?"
Tsisk thought about it. It pleased her very much to have Alfira around. Her happy energy and her songs could alleviate her urges from her, she felt. And as such, she said yes and invited Alfira to come along to their camp.
Since the sky began to darken now, she helped Alfira gather her meager belongings and they set out to find the others.
They found them in a clearing at the grove. Everyone else already had set up their tents and bedrolls, a fire was burning and Gale cooked a hearty meal from what the Tieflings had to spare for their saviours. It was not much, but it would fill them for tonight and Gale had wrought his magic with a few herbs and spices procured from the druids so that the smell of it made Tsisks and Alfiras stomachs growl. With everyone set around the fire, Tsisk introduced Alfira to the others. The bard played a few tunes to make the time pass faster and lighten the mood. Tsisk could see that several of the others were in dire need of a bit of lightening up and was very satisfied with her choice of bringing Alfira with her.
Even Shadowheart opened up and told them that she hoped to go back to Baldurs Gate once the tadpoles where under control.
After their meal and some talking and bantering, the events of the day cought up to one after the other and they went to bed tired and exhausted. Only Gale and Tsisk were left when he began talking to her. „The stars shine bright today. To think that some of them get snuffed out while we look at them and we don't even notice…" For a while, they just sat there as they looked up, until Gale spoke again. „You think the tadpoles might be the worst threat to us, do you?"
She looked back at him. „I have not seen or heard of anything more threatening."
Gale took a deep breath before he told her „Well, consider my...illness...I have conducted it well before the tadpole and I thought it to be under control, but under these circumstances I might not be able to do so much longer. It also requires more upkeep now than before."
„What illness could be a bigger danger than the tadpoles?" Tsisk asked sceptical.
„The magical kind. Look, if it weren't so urgent I would not bother you with it, but it is. If I go down or loose control, I might take with me an area the size of Waterdeep. All of you included, regrettably. But – there is something to be done. If I die, you must revive me in the span of two days…"
„Let's not hope that it comes to that."
„AND I might require a magical item very soon to consume and calm the magical storm that is brewing within me."
That made Tsisk very uneasy. Magical Items were not very common and their owners seldom parted with them on their own volition.
„Are you sure that is the only way? You're not just stashing them away to sell later?"
Gale huffed a sad little laughter before he answered. „If you insist, I can consume – destroy it before your own eyes, so you can be sure I won't misappropriate it."
Tsisk nodded. His magical illness sounded no more illegitimate than her own and if he said the truth, he could indeed prove more dangerous than anyone else in that camp. For a moment she wondered if she could outpace the radius of whatever could happen. But then she remembered, that she knew nothing about the area and could not hope to survive the wilderness on her own if a whole caravan of Tieflings was doomed if they left the safety of the grove. She was tired now and decided to think about it more on another day. For once, Tsisk fell asleep easily and without vile fantasies intruding on her peace of mind.
She awoke in the middle of the night, when Alfira tossed and turned and mumbled in her sleep. Obviously, the latest events in her life would inspire nightmares.
Tsisk wanted to sit down and comfort her in her sleep, but she felt the urges grip on her thoughts. How easy it would be to quieten the small figure beneath her, to make her sleep eternally.
Would it not be a mercy to never feel fear again?
Tsisk felt her blood boil and a titillating sensation that coursed through her body from head to toe. She fought it, but a looming presence filled her mind. With that presence came the
wish to please it, to claim its rewards she knew were about to come to her and fulfill its every desire. The wish became too strong to bear and so she set in motion.
A dagger would be fine to carve flesh from ribs, but today, her hunger was so enormous, that she felt only a pure death and ravaging by her own bare hands would do it justice.
As she stood over Alfiras sleeping form, Tsisk hesitated for a moment.
She did not deserve this.
But her thoughts could not reach her consciousness anymore. Whatever reaction those words would have illicited before, it did not matter now. The urge controlled her mind and the
presence she felt encouraged it, put fuel to the fire that burned hotter with every second, consuming the person that was Tsisk.
As she laid hands on Alfira, the last resemblance of herself fled into a corner of her head far, far away from the happenings of this night.
When she came back to herself, Tsisk was sitting before Alfiras badly mangled corpse. Her hands dripped with hot blood and gore, mixed with her sweat.
Her body ached from the madness, it felt spent. Her mind felt ravaged and only worked slowly.
She wanted to close Alfiras eyes, but had to notice that they were gone, torn out. Instead, she took her hand and sat there, holding it while the body went cold and stiff.
Someone cleared his throat behind her and she managed to turn her head. Astarion stood at the edge of the lit area of the camp as if returning from a venture outside.
„Would you mind explaining to me what happened here? You two seemed to be the bestest of friends when I went to sleep. And now you are arms deep in her guts."
Tsisk needed some time to process his words, even having to look back at the gruesome sight to confirm that she was not dreaming.
„I killed her?" She asked without any inflection in her voice, just matter of factly.
„Your are drenched in her blood, who else would it have been?" Astarion could not take his eyes from the mess, but seemed strangely unmoved by the sight.
„I don't know." Tsisk answered truthfully. But it dawned on her, that there really was no one else to blame than herself.
Astarion grew impatient, restless even, but began talking to her as if he talked to a frightened child. In a calm, cheery voice he said „Look, I know I have a casual relationship
with murder. I don't remember everyone I've killed. But I do remember everyone I've killed in the last 5 minutes." He went over to his place in the camp and added „One word
of advise: I might not think much of your escapades this night. But the others surely will. Best make sure to hide all that evidence."
He then rolled up in his blanket. Tsisk was not able to say if he truly slept. She did not care.
Tsisk mourned the loss of Alfira and the innocence of not knowing which monster lurked inside her.
Now even her happy memories of the previous day would haunt her and never give her refuge again.
When the dawning sun painted the sky in the color of her sin, Tsisk still sat in the middle of it. She had not lifted a finger to hide what she had done.