Author's Note: Since Shadowheart became a great deal kinder and less bigoted than she was in the early access, I've warmed up to her quite a bit. Still, her character is quite new to me, so I have no prior experience at writing her, so I apologize if she ends up a bit OOC at times. After this, I'll have one more chapter left to revise before I'm caught up to where I left off on the original version of this story. I hope those who read the original will enjoy these revisions, as I'm much happier with them, otherwise, please let me know if anything could use any tweaking. Also, certain game mechanics will be ignored for a better flow in the overall narrative.

As always, Baldur's Gate III is © to Larian Studios, the setting for the Forgotten Realms campaign is © to Ed Greenwood and Dungeons & Dragons et al are © to Wizards of the Coast. However, Ashaka, other characters and certain plot points are of my own creation. If you don't recognize something from the game proper, than it's probably mine.

Special thanks goes out to my beta reader, CatSnievans, you're the best!

Summary: After being spirited away from her home in Kara-Tur, a githzerai monk finds herself lost upon the Sword Coast of Faerûn. In order to find a cure for the illithid larva within her mind, she must learn to trust those who share her plight. Eventual Lae'zel/PC romance. F/F.

Warnings: Headcanon, violence, language, OCs, spoilers for the game.

Chapter III:
And So, We Meet Again

The sun was high in the sky when Ashaka finally came to, and the githzerai drew a slow deep breath as she slowly opened her eyes. She was forced to shut them from the brightness of the sunlight, however, and she took a moment to allow her vision to adjust to the intensity before she tried again.

With a soft groan, the monk slowly rose to her feet before she took a few shaky steps in order to test her balance, a sigh leaving her as she paused to take a look around, and she frowned when she found that the githyanki woman was nowhere to be seen.

As rude as she was, I hope she survived the crash, otherwise, I'll be completely alone. By the look of things, I'm on the Prime Material Plane. Not in Tabot, though, and probably not in any of the other Kara-Turan nations, either. I... don't know where I am, and I doubt many gith live here, so I'll need to be careful.

With those thoughts, the githzerai pulled her hood back over her head with a bit of difficulty, and she winced when she felt pain in her right shoulder where the debris that had knocked her out of the gh'ath had struck her. Sighing, she raised a hand to feel for blood, and while there was none, the area around the joint was tender to the touch.

Wonderful, she thought angrily, what else will go wrong?

Pushing the negative thought away, the monk looked around for her war fan, relief washing over her when she found it lying nearby. Luckily, it was undamaged, and she took a moment to clean it off before she tucked it back into her makeshift belt and continued on, doing her best to ignore the carnage that littered the landscape around her.

Ashaka's eyes widened in surprise, however, when she caught sight of a familiar-looking cleric sprawled out on the beach ahead of her, and the githzerai closed the distance at a brisk pace before she stopped a few steps away from the unconscious half-elf. Her eyes narrowed, however, when she caught sight of the strange box-like object tightly clutched in the istik's right hand and, while she toyed with the notion of trying to grab it, she figured that tangling with the cleric while nursing a hurt shoulder wouldn't be worth the risk to find out what the box exactly was.

Instead, Ashaka knelt down on one knee before she proceeded to shake the other person awake as best she could which, thankfully, only took a few seconds before, with a groan, the half-elf came to.

Blue-green eyes fluttered open as Shadowheart regained consciousness, only to realize that she was currently being shaken. While not roughly, the half-elf tried to squirm away from the other, until her currently bleary vision cleared enough to show the githzerai monk from the nautiloid knelt next to her.

"We're... alive... but how?" she asked, pulling herself rather shakily to her feet before she moved to quickly stow the artifact back into her belt pouch. Even though this woman had inquired about it back on the ship before things had gone awry, she wasn't threatening Shadowheart over it. At least not yet, anyway. Shadowheart did know that she needed to get to Baldur's Gate as soon as she could, in order to meet her contact there and hand over the githyanki relic she'd been tasked by her goddess to steal. Why, however, was something she couldn't answer even if she wanted to.

"Know that it doesn't matter," the githzerai replied, though her soft voice held an icy wariness about it that matched her pale gray eyes. Still, she seemed to lack the downright nasty disposition of her githyanki counterparts and for that, Shadowheart allowed herself to be grateful for. "Know that we survived and we need to find a cure before we turn."

"True," the cleric agreed, "seems like we're the lucky ones, judging by all the corpses strewn about the wreckage."

"Do you remember anything that happened after the battle in the helm?"

"I... remember the ship," the cleric replied, trailing off as she paused to wrack her brain, though, she could recall very little. "I remember falling. Then... nothing."

"Do you have any idea where we could be?" the monk asked, looking about, and Shadowheart noticed that, with the way the gith was taking everything in, there was no way she could be native to these parts. "All I know is that this is not Kara-Tur. I must return to my monastery and let everyone there know what happened."

"Unfortunately, I have no idea where we could be, the landscape has been drastically altered by the crash. So, there's a chance you may indeed be far from home," Shadowheart informed, a frown creasing her lips when she saw the githzerai slowly close her eyes, though the girl's expression was unreadable. "Still first thing's first: we need supplies, shelter and, most importantly a healer. We may have survived, but we still have these little monsters in our heads."

"Know that you healed me back on the ship," the monk stated, and Shadowheart winced inwardly at what the other woman said next: "have you no knowledge of how to deal with the larvae?"

"Unfortunately, I'm nowhere experienced enough to deal with something this dire."

"I see," the githzerai murmured before she began to rub her right shoulder. "Do you think that githyanki survived? I haven't seen her."

"She probably ran off without us," the half-elf replied, unable to mask the spiteful tone in her voice, "seems like I'm more reliable than your own counterpart."

The monk remained silent, and Shadowheart swore to herself that she saw a flicker of remorse break through the githzerai's mask of stoicism, lasting for a fleeting second before once again disappearing. Part of her felt guilty for saying that given the monk's brief show of worry but, there was no telling when it came to that particular githyanki.

"You and I should stay together, especially if we're as lost as I suspect. We need each other, and we both know what's at stake. Call me Shadowheart."

"My name is not important, and you bring up very valid points," the monk replied softly, "in knowing this, I agree that it would be too dangerous to travel alone. Let's go."

"One more thing before we head out," the cleric said quickly when the monk had turned to continue on, Shadowheart's words causing the other person to stop in her tracks before she turned back, a quizzical brow arched. While it hurt that this githzerai refused to give her own name, at least for now, Shadowheart knew that they both needed to be in as close to top form as possible, just incase anything hostile survived the crash. With that thought, the half-elf reached into her belt pouch, pulling out a healing potion, which she then held out to the woman and waited for her to take it.

"Think of this as a thank you for freeing me," the cleric continued, "it's a healing potion and it should do well to fix up that shoulder of yours. I'd use magic again, but I want to save what spells I have left for any possible fights. You know... it would've been all too easy for you to run right past my pod, but you didn't. I'll remember that."

"As I said back on the gh'ath: you asked me to help you," the monk replied, looking away for a moment, "and your help during the fight in the helm was more than enough repayment."

"It's fine, really," Shadowheart insisted, having a feeling that this woman wasn't at all used to interacting with anyone aside from other gith. "Now, take the potion and drink up before that shoulder of yours gets any worse."

G'lyck... No use being stubborn about it, Ashaka inwardly scolded herself before she relented and accepted the gift. Her right shoulder was indeed beginning to throb, and the monk eyed the red liquid contained within the bottle before she slowly uncorked it and drank the contents. The throbbing ache in her shoulder lessened before fading altogether and Ashaka took the time to test the joint by rotating it before she moved to stretch her arms above her head.

She allowed herself a fleeting smile and a nod of thanks, the latter of which the cleric she now knew as Shadowheart returned before the two began to pick their way along the rest of the beach.

From the corpses that littered the area along with parts of the ship, Ashaka realized that she and the cleric had both been lucky to survive at all, though it bothered her to know that she would never see the monastery - let alone her teachers or fellow students - ever again.

If I can find Sha'kar's body again, that will give me some small comfort before I turn, she thought somberly as she continued on, the sound of running water soon coming to her ears. This caused the githzerai to increase her pace to a brisk jog as she headed in that direction, the sound of quickened footfalls telling her that Shadowheart had done the same. Fresh water usually means that a settlement is nearby. Still... I'm not originally from this plane, so I'll need to exercise caution.

A small dock soon came into her sight, and the monk frowned when she saw the bodies of two fishermen, both human, lying crumpled and broken in their own blood and viscera, debris from the nautiloid strewn around them. Nearby lay the corpse of an intellect devourer, and it didn't take much to piece together what had taken place.

"These two were fishing when the gh'ath appeared and this devourer showed no mercy when it found them," Ashaka muttered in observation as she crouched near one of the bodies before she reached out to gently close the man's eyes, "rest in peace now, you poor souls."

"Hopefully it was a quick end," Shadowheart added and the githzerai turned to see the cleric shudder, "I'd hate to imagine how slowly death would come to someone who'd been eviscerated."

"Best not to dwell on it," Ashaka replied grimly, before the two women paused at the river's edge to clean their weapons. She was quicker to accept the piece of linen offered to her by Shadowheart, the cloth a big help in aiding to clean the grime from her war fan.

"That's a lovely weapon," Shadowheart spoke up suddenly, causing Ashaka to jerk a bit in surprise when she took notice that the half-elf had leant in for a closer look at the fan's cloth. "They seem to be a rarity outside Kara-Tur, so this is the first time I've ever seen one outside of artistic depictions."

"Thank you," Ashaka replied, though she kept her attention to the task at hand. "Know that it is a family heirloom that's been passed down through the generations, the last owner being my father."

"I see. Is there a match to it?"

"There is but, know that it is in my sister's possession, however, I..." the githzerai trailed off, inwardly scolding herself for saying so much, but she hoped that this answer would do to satisfy the cleric's curiosity. When she spoke again, though, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I haven't seen her in nine years."

"Oh... I'm-"

The apology was cut short when Shadowheart suddenly winced and grabbed her right hand, a grunt of pain leaving her.

"Did you hurt your hand back on the ship?"

"No, it's an old wound. Nothing too serious."

Ashaka nodded, choosing not to press the matter. She waited until the half-elf had recovered, taking time to check her war fan over before once again closing the weapon and tucking it back into her belt.

Afterward, both women took time to go through the few crates and bags found along the dock, with Ashaka settling on a tinder box and a well-worn satchel, of which contained a bottle of water. After giving a silent thank you to the spirits of the departed fishermen and promising to put the satchel to good use, Ashaka cast a quick sidelong glance towards where Shadowheart was currently rummaging through a blood-stained rucksack. After making sure the half-elf was fully engrossed in her search, Ashaka reached into her vestment's inner right pocket and pulled out a small bottle and a comb, both of which she carefully transferred to her satchel before closing it.

"Catch," came a warning from the cleric, and Ashaka barely looked up in time to see an apple come flying towards her. She managed to catch it in both hands, though not without fumbling it a bit beforehand.

"Sorry," Shadowheart apologized, doing what she could to hide an amused smirk behind the bottle of water she was currently holding. "I thought you monastic types had better reflexes than that."

"That doesn't mean we're able to catch everything thrown our way," Ashaka replied, rolling her eyes when the cleric wasn't looking. "Especially not perfectly. Thank you for this, though."

"It's not much, but it should keep us going in the meantime," Shadowheart stated, biting into her apple before she moved to sit down on one of the crates, and Ashaka took notice when the cleric glanced down at her right hand, though the githzerai chose to remain silent on that matter.

A comfortable silence fell over both women as they took time to eat, Ashaka retrieving the bottle of water she had in her satchel to drink with the snack. While she elected against joining Shadowheart on the crates, she did move a few paces closer to where the other woman sat, before Ashaka turned to gaze out over the water.

"Know that I would like to return to the crash site," she stated after finishing both the apple and water, and she made certain to return the empty bottle to her satchel, knowing that it could be put to use again at some point.

"Is there something you're searching for?"

"Someone, actually," Ashaka corrected, pausing to drop her apple core on the dock, "it's not that githyanki, if that's your first assumption. While I do hope to find her again, I don't know her at all. Whom I'm hoping to find again is a close friend I've known for years now."

"Alive?"

Rather than answer verbally, Ashaka met Shadowheart's blue-green gaze before the githzerai slowly shook her head.

"I see," the half-elf murmured softly, pausing for a moment as if waiting for something before she relaxed. "Very well, then, let's head back."

"There's three of those... whatever they are," Shadowheart murmured and Ashaka looked to where the cleric was pointing.

"They're ghaik revrykali," Ashaka explained, "'mind flayer servants' in my native tongue or 'intellect devourers' if you want to use the more universal term. Despite their small size, they can be rather dangerous, especially if they're in packs like that."

"Then, we need to be careful."

The duo were currently crouched behind a raised section of the hull, watching the aberrations scampering about. When the creatures began to move off, Ashaka signaled for Shadowheart to follow before the two began to sneak through.

A high-pitched squeak sounded from where they'd last seen one of the devourers, however, and both women drew their weapons in preparation for combat when the sound of claws against fleshy ground came to their ears.

"How can these nasty little beasts hear us?!" Shadowheart cried, swinging at one of the aberrations when it lunged for the duo.

"I'd rather not think about that," Ashaka answered grimly, swiping down with her currently closed war fan and striking the devourer's frontal lobe. Both attacks were enough to kill the creature, its clawed legs giving out from under it as it crumpled to the ground, dead.

"That was more of a rhetorical question than anything," the half-elf stated, striking down at the second devourer when it and its remaining companion had closed the distance between themselves and both women. While the mace strike did some damage, the little creature merely staggered but remained standing.

Ashaka instead aimed a strike down at the third aberration, the blow landing hard enough to kill it before, without missing a beat, she turned to face the remaining creature and felled it with a swift low kick to its frontal lobe, the squelching of gray matter causing her to grimace in disgust.

Once the devourers had been dealt with, both women paused to keep a lookout for more, however, the sight of a particular body caused Ashaka's eyes to widen before she ran over to kneel beside it.

He was a short human dressed within a woolen overcoat along with fur-lined boots, a pair of gloves, and a round fur-lined hat kept in place by a pair of earmuffs. By the amount of blood that surrounded him, Ashaka realized that she'd been far too late.

"Is this who you're looking for?"

"Not exactly, no. This is one of the livestock herders who disappeared," the monk explained, "my best friend, Sha'kar, and I were out searching for them when we were... both abducted by the ghaik."

"I see," Shadowheart murmured, "they all may have shared in this one's fate."

"More than likely," Ashaka agreed grimly, falling silent again for a moment before she whispered an apology to the man she'd failed to help and gently close his eyes. Afterward, the githzerai rose to her feet before the duo turned to continue onward. "Proceed with caution, there may still be more devourers lurking about."

"Best not to tempt fate," Shadowheart chided, though she kept her mace and shield drawn just incase, Ashaka following suit by keeping her war fan still held tightly in her hand before the two humanoids picked their way through the ravaged hallway. None of the bodies were Sha'kar's, however and, in spite of her initial disappointment, the monk knew that this was only one part of the crash site.

He could be anywhere, the githzerai told herself silently, but I'm not going to stop coming back until I find him.

Eventually, she and Shadowheart arrived at the end of this area of the wreckage, a few feet out where the natural landscape of the Prime began again was the gentle slope of a hill. Silently, the pair moved up it, only to stop when they came upon two branching paths, one going left and the other to the right.

"I hear voices up ahead," the cleric whispered, pointing to the right, "coming from that direction."

Ashaka frowned as she listened, and she, too, heard a trio of voices coming from the right path, one voice in particular causing her brow to furrow in disbelief.

It can't be her...

"Let's go," the monk murmured before she started up the right path, the cleric's footfalls telling her that Shadowheart wasn't far behind.

"Wait... there's no way," the half-elf muttered, a mix of annoyance and disgust lacing her voice as the duo crested the top of the hill. The sight that awaited them caused Ashaka to suddenly stop in her tracks as gray eyes widened in a mixture of disbelief and recognition.

And so, we meet again, the githzerai thought to herself as she caught sight of the githwarrior whom, for the moment, was trapped within a rather crudely made cage that hung suspended from a particularly large tree branch, her weapons lying on the ground nearby.

She wasn't alone, though, and Ashaka caught sight of a pair of humanoids that resembled wingless cambions, the similarities causing a shiver to crawl down her spine as she and her companion both moved out of sight, though to a point where they could still witness what was unfolding.

"Tieflings," Shadowheart informed, her sudden whisper close to Ashaka's left ear causing the githzerai to jerk in surprise. "They could be more survivors, and I honestly don't blame them for caging her."

Awakening to find herself weaponless and trapped within such a terribly crafted cage was nothing short of embarrassing, and Lae'zel silently glowered down at the pair who, she assumed, had been the ones who'd captured her whilst she'd been incapacitated. They were red-skinned and possessed a pair of horns that framed their dark hair near the crown, their overall appearance making her think of cambions.

"Zorru was right," declared the first, a male by his low tone, "look at it: yellow as a toad and twice as ugly."

"This thing's dangerous," the female replied, "let's leave it for the goblins to kill."

My skin is green, not yellow and you'd better pray I don't find a way to free myself in the next few minutes, the githyanki thought angrily, though movement farther down the crest of the hill caught her attention, and she blinked in a mixture of both surprise and utter disbelief when she caught sight of a certain githzerai, the dark hair and clothing both a dead giveaway that it was indeed her.

Tsk'va, she survived, Lae'zel thought, a strange mix of emotions washing over her, then, as she recalled what had happened before the nautiloid had crashed. She'd been too weak to take that cambion on by herself, and she had consigned herself to her fate, as it would be better to die as herself than to become ghaik. Then, for some reason, that githzerai had saved her life, which was something Lae'zel absolutely could not fathom.

When Lae'zel caught sight of a certain cleric, however, her expression immediately changed to one of complete disgust. Of course that kainyak had also survived and Lae'zel had a feeling that the githzerai was behind it. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the two move to the top of the hill just as the pair of devilkin were turning to leave and, as the githyanki expected, both parties stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing each other, though while the monk and cleric had their weapons drawn, neither moved to raise them - yet.

It was in this moment that Lae'zel managed to catch the githzerai's gaze before the fighter concentrated, reaching out mentally to twine her mind around the monk's before she sent the smaller woman a simple command:

You again. Get rid of them.

"Holy hells, another one," the female devilkin exclaimed, and it was in that moment that Lae'zel noticed that the githzerai's hood was down, and given the monk's shocked reaction, apparently this had escaped her notice until now.

The events that unfolded, then, all seemed to happen within the blink of an eye.

"Blades high, Nymessa," the male commanded of his companion as he moved to draw a shortsword before he lunged, the blade raised high as he aimed to strike down at the githzerai, who intercepted the strike by quickly raising her currently closed war fan, of which she'd grasped tightly by both ends. Not missing a beat, the monk lightly sidestepped to the left.

As she did so, the movement had been so quick that Lae'zel barely saw when the smaller woman had slid her weapon against the side of the male's right hand to where she now had the side of it pressed against the back of the devilkin's hand. The githzerai's right hand was still tightly gripping the end of the small weapon in a reverse grip, whereas she'd released the end held by her left hand, which she now had overtop of his with her palm firmly pressed against the outer side, and she was using her left thumb to help keep her war fan pressed against the back of his hand.

The male devilkin gave a cry of pain as he fell to both knees, his left hand pressed against the ground to keep him from falling to his stomach, and Lae'zel heard the dull thump of metal hitting the ground as he lost his grip on his shortsword. A smirk of satisfaction wormed its way onto her lips at knowing how much pain he was in currently as she watched the monk slide his weapon out of reach with her right foot, and she kept her heel set on top of it so he couldn't reclaim it.

"Damays!"

"Augh! Release me..!" the male growled, his tail lashing from the pain even as the small woman slowly leant in close to his right ear.

"Know that there are times where confrontation is meaningless and that this is one of them," the githzerai hissed, her tone sounding like ice wrapped in silk, "now, you will sheath your blade, you will leave the githyanki to me and you will take your friend and leave us be. Do I make myself clear?"

The man's tail fell limply against the ground as he nodded, but the monk allowed a long moment to pass before, slowly, she released her hold upon his hand, though she kept her foot on top of his shortsword to keep him from attempting to reclaim it until he'd pulled himself to his feet. Only then did the dark-haired gith step back, her attention focused squarely on the devilkin as he took a moment to flex his hand a few times before he shook it. From her vantage point, Lae'zel noticed that the githzerai's stance was not completely relaxed and that the woman was remaining on edge just incase the devilkin were to attempt retaliation.

Of course she didn't kill him, the githyanki observed silently, her eyes narrowing as her upper lip curled in disgust, how bloody typical of a githzerai to refuse even whilst holding someone's life in their hands. It's exactly why Gith was able to slay that pathetic traitor Zerthimon. And yet...

Her thoughts trailed off as she watched the male devilkin reclaim his blade and, to her surprise, he sheathed his shortsword before moving to dust himself off, though not without shooting the monk a hard look as he did so. Both their respective companions also moved to put their weapons away, and the male turned to the female before gesturing for her to follow as he took his leave, the female devilkin following suit.

And yet... his equally pathetic followers still endure to this very day in spite of such ridiculous ideologies.

The monk was silent as she watched the pair leave, probably ensuring that the male would keep to his word before, once the two devilkin were completely out of sight, she finally relaxed and turned her attention to where the githwarrior was still caged.

"Enough gawking," Lae'zel snapped, "get me down."

"Say 'please'," the smaller woman demanded coolly as she lightly crossed her arms over her chest, and the fighter shot her a venomous scowl.

"Never!"

"Funny, I thought githyanki enjoyed looking down upon others not of their ilk," the githzerai retorted, her expression never changing in spite of her tone. Lae'zel continued to glare down at her silently, even as she watched the dark-haired gith search for a way to lower the cage.

"I've got this," the cleric mused before she gestured, and Lae'zel's eyes widened when a small bolt of flame was thrown up towards the rope that currently held the cage she was trapped in aloft. "Ignis!"

A rather undignified shriek left the githwarrior as the cage plummeted to the ground, the door flying open upon impact; and while she was thrown against the bars, Lae'zel managed to remain standing. She waited a moment in order to regain her bearings before exiting the cage, though not without staggering a little as she shot the other two women a dirty look.

How she can stand to be in that istik's company is beyond me, the fighter thought as she went to retrieve her flaming greatsword, longbow and quiver, taking a moment to count her arrows before turning to face the pair as they approached, though she noticed that the monk was keeping a respectful distance.

"The tadpole hasn't yet scrambled all your senses," Lae'zel observed, her topaz eyes sweeping over both of the other women. "Auspicious. But, the longer we wait, the more it consumes. My people possess a cure for this infection. I must find a crèche; you will join me."

"A wise decision," the smaller gith agreed to Lae'zel's surprise, though the githyanki had to fight to outwardly mask it. "Do you know where we might find one?"

"The horned ones made mention of a camp," the fighter explained, recalling what she'd heard before the pair of devilkin had turned their attention to her. "One there, this 'Zorru', has seen githyanki. This means a crèche is near."

"Very well, I will continue to honor our truce," the monk replied, though her voice still remained wary, "we shall journey together to find this crèche."

"For the moment, you have made an ally of Crèche K'liir - few know such fortune," the githwarrior informed, her stance relaxing a little, "call me Lae'zel."

She saw the monk's icy gray eyes widen in surprise before the shorter woman looked away for a long moment, considering, a barely audible sigh leaving her. Slowly, she turned back to meet Lae'zel's gaze, her own softening somewhat, though a fair amount of wariness still remained.

"... Ashaka," the githzerai replied softly as she made a fist with her left hand before touching it against the palm of her right and making a small bow, "warrior-monk of the Order of Twilight's Blossom."

That certainly explains the flower motif on those vestments of hers.

"Don't expect me to follow suit," the cleric snapped, and Lae'zel rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you'll learn my name in time, perhaps not."

"Perhaps we should start looking for a place to make camp?" the githzerai Lae'zel now knew as Ashaka asked a little too loudly, and the fighter couldn't help but smirk a bit at the monk's obvious discomfort.

"Not a bad idea, true," the half-elf replied, her voice holding a less harsh note as she addressed the smaller gith. "Let's go, then."

The truce continues, indeed, Lae'zel thought with an exasperated sigh as she started after the others at a slow walk, Vlaakith truly is testing me.

Gith to Common Translations

Crèche - A githyanki hatchery hidden on the Prime Material Plane, where hatchlings mature to adulthood before undergoing a rite in order to be allowed to live the rest of their lives on the Astral Plane as an adult in githyanki society.
G'lyck - An expression used in the same manner as a sigh.