"One, nothing wrong with me
Two, nothing wrong with me
Three, nothing wrong with me...
One, something's got to give
Two, something's got to give
Three, something's got to give
Now!
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the-"
"What happened to you?" Their new gnome friend asked when she first laid eyes on Del as she showed them the way to the duergar outpost. "I heard you've been sick, but you look worse than I did after I was poisoned!"
"It's not that bad, is it?" He felt oddly defensive. There were no mirrors in the myconid colony, so he still had only everyone else's descriptions to go by.
"Well, I mean..." Thulla hesitated, looking to the rest of the party for help in figuring out how much of the truth she should tell him. Del found himself wishing she would just be honest already instead of dancing around the issue like everyone else had done. If only he could see himself through her eyes...
"Ah!" he yelped, stumbling over nothing on perfectly level ground. For a split second, he'd gotten a flash of a different perspective, as if he'd shrunk to half his usual height. He shot a furtive look at Thulla, but she didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss.
The rest of his party, however, had seen Del's reaction, and were all over him like a bunch of mother hens.
"What's the matter, soldier?" Karlach fussed. "Do you need a break?"
"Maybe you should have stayed back with the myconids," Shadowheart muttered. "If that tadpole's acting up again, spells and prayers aren't going to cut it."
"I'm fine, honestly," Del protested, waving off their ministrations. "Can't a guy just trip over a rock in peace?"
"I see no loose rocks around here," Gale pointed out.
Later, when they did stop for a short break, Del found an idle moment and tried to look through Thulla's eyes again... but he couldn't seem to replicate the effect. Maybe he'd imagined it after all. That did give him an idea, though.
"Hey, Astarion," he nudged his companion, who was idly twirling a dagger in one hand as he leaned against a rock. "You can't see yourself in a mirror, right?"
"Yes, thank you for the reminder," the vampire drawled, rolling his eyes. "And why are you bringing this up now ?"
"I was thinking."
"A dangerous prospect."
"No, seriously. It's about the tadpoles."
"Yes, but I also know how the tadpoles decided to suddenly come out of stasis and eat half your brain. If this is about absorbing any more of them, count me out."
"No, not that," Del reassured him. "You know how the tadpoles let us see each other's thoughts sometimes?" Astarion nodded. "Well, what if we did that, but with our vision instead? I've seen flashes of other people's perspectives before, like when I first met Lae'zel on the ship."
Astarion pursed his lips and stopped playing with his knife, clearly considering the offer. "It has been quite some time since I could appreciate my own dashing good looks... But not now. Perhaps tonight, or whatever passes for night in this gods-forsaken place. Come find me the next time we break camp."
Del wondered why exactly Astarion would need the extra privacy, unless it wasn't his face he needed looking at... But he nodded in agreement to the deal.
And then they were off again, soon approaching the enormous underground lake where they'd encountered the first group of duergar days before. Thulla led them to the shore and pointed out a boat – well, boat was a generous term for it, the thing was more like a large raft with sails – tied up to a dock.
But before they could climb aboard...
"Wait a minute!" Everyone turned to look at Del as he spoke up. "Before we go, shouldn't we talk strategy?"
"You, wanting to strategize before battle?" Astarion was intrigued. "Now that's a surprise. But, as much as I enjoy improvisation, that's not a bad idea." He turned to the gnome. "Thulla, how many of them are there? You said earlier they were using your friends for some kind of dig, but what are they digging for? And didn't you mention something about a drow?"
"Nere," Thulla made a face as if even the name gave her a bad taste in her mouth. "He's the drow, and the brains of the whole operation. They're excavating some kind of temple down there for that stupid new god they've found, the Absolute."
"More Absolutists, huh?" Karlach asked. "Gotta love this time of year. The dickheads start sprouting up left and right."
Thulla chuckled a little at that, but quickly grew serious again. "Dickheads indeed... But as for strategy - if any of the duergar see me, they'll know something's up right away. You could pretend to be returning me to my captors, then turn around and cut them down... But it seems a bit risky. What if I get recaptured for real? Then there'll be nobody left to go back to our city and get help."
"Wait," Astarion interrupted. "Your city? We've only been your backup plan all along?"
"The city is my backup plan," Thulla corrected, looking a bit insulted at the elf's insinuation. "It'd take me a tenday to get back home, and even longer to mount a proper rescue mission. My friends could be dead by then! The duergar wouldn't be so bad by themselves, but Nere likes to execute slaves as an example to make the others work harder..."
"It's okay, we get the picture," Del said grimly. "We're your chance to settle this here and now – and anyway, we promised the myconids we'd help. Maybe we can bluff our way into their camp and go with stealth or open attack based on how badly we're outnumbered. You should probably stay here – no offense, but you wouldn't be much good in a fight anyway. If we're not back in a few hours, get home as fast as you can."
No one could find anything especially wrong with this plan, though it still included a lot of improvisation. There was no real way of knowing what they'd find at the excavation site until they got there.
So they parted ways with the gnome at the lakeshore and sailed away across the expanse of black water.
The boat had a sail that reminded Del of a fish's tail, complete with fine bone-like struts running through each section of 'fin', but it was ragged and had clearly seen better days. Luckily, the sail didn't seem necessary in any way since there was not a whisper of wind to ripple the lake's glassy surface. The boat seemed to move on its own accord once untied from the dock.
"Magic," Gale said, stating the obvious. "This ferry must run back and forth on demand. It already knows where to go."
It wasn't very long before they could make out a faint point of light up ahead, which slowly resolved itself into two, then four, and then an entire succession of torches and braziers.
A white-bearded duergar awaited them at the dock, looking grim-faced and suspicious.
"Uh oh..." Karlach whispered. "Let's hope we can bluff our way through this."
The boat knocked against the wood of the dock with a thud that sent water sloshing up over the edge, then stopped moving.
"Who goes there?" the duergar asked in a gravelly voice. "And what are you doing on Gekh's raft?"
"I'm afraid Gekh is dead," Astarion said smoothly. "He fell fighting the myconids."
"Damn!" the duergar swore. "Come on – let's get you to shore. The seargant'll be pissed to hear that, so you'll be the ones to tell her."
The five of them clambered out onto the dock. Del gazed at their surroundings with no small measure of awe. They stood in what looked like the ruins of a grand hall, complete with statuary and high-vaulted ceilings. But whatever this place had once been, its glory days were long behind it.
The one-man welcoming committee, who introduced himself as Corsair Greymon, led them forward past the dock and toward a campsite set up in the middle of the ruins.
"The fuck is wrong with your face?" asked one of the duergar at the camp as they approached.
"Skin condition." Del tried to act unconcerned, as if this was something he lived with every day.
"Hideous, isn't it?" Astarion added ever-so-helpfully. "Maybe we'll find a cure for him in Baldur's Gate."
The duergar snorted, then called the nearest deep gnome for another drink. Thulla's comrades were everywhere, serving the duergar or carrying rocks and supplies. There were probably as many gnomes as there were duergar... That was reassuring, since based on what Thulla had said they had little loyalty to their masters, and hopefully would turn on them if it came to an all-out brawl.
Greymon looked around for the sergeant, but apparently they were nowhere to be found. "She's o'er at the dig," another duergar finally directed.
"Fat lotta good you lot are," Greymon grumbled at him. "Why aren't you at the dig?"
The closer they got to the excavation site, the more agitated the duergar around them seemed. Del and the others approached a group that appeared to be engaged in a heated argument, complete with rude gestures and yelling.
"How's everything going over here?" Del asked.
The lead duergar of the group snorted. "Poorly, obviously. Tunnel collapsed on a True Soul... Absolute's gonna eat my liver. Unless..." The man appraised Del with a keen eye. "You're another one of them, ain't ya? Glad someone's finally here to take responsibility. Nere's stuck in there with poisoned geysers. Not toxic enough to kill right away, but he'll be dead if we don't get him out soon. And then that'll be both our heads." He mimed a throat-slitting motion.
"Shit!" Greymon swore. "Why did no one tell me this earlier?"
Del ignored him. "How did Nere get trapped?"
"Previous tenants left us a present. Dropped a shit-ton of metal on us once we uncovered some trigger plate partway in. Those damn religious freaks..." He spat on the ground.
"This is a temple, right?" Del asked. "To what god? And what're you trying to dig up here, anyways?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Shadowheart interjected, speaking for the first time in a while. She had been quiet ever since they'd gotten off the boat, and now Del could see that she was looking around intently, taking in every inch of their surroundings. "This place has been abandoned for a long time, but based on the statues and iconography, it looks like it was once dedicated to Lady Shar."
"Girl's got a good head on her," another duergar acknowledged. "This was a Sharran temple, all right. And we're digging the whole damn thing up; General Ketheric's orders. Seems like a waste of time to me, but who're we to question the will of the Absolute?"
"Enough explainin'. Where's the sergeant?" Greymon barked. "I've got True Souls here to see her."
"Trying to get Nere free. True Souls, eh? Why don't you lot go see if there's anything to be done?"
As they approached the site of the cave-in, Del saw a group of deep gnomes frantically chipping away at a pile of rubble blocking a passageway. They split rocks with pickaxes and threw the fragments off to the side, but they were hindered by their lack of size and strength, as well as the risk of becoming buried themselves if they destabilized the entire pile of rocks.
Several duergar stood around them, watching and yelling instructions but making no move to actually help. Maybe if they'd all chipped in, they could have cleared this already, but they seemed determined to prove their superiority over the gnomes. Del assumed that the only female in the bunch was the sergeant, but she didn't look much different than the others aside from her lack of a beard.
"I'm here to help. Let me try," Del offered, coming up beside the group of duergar. He figured it was safest to continue playing along for now until they could speak to this Nere person and find out more about the Absolute's goals for the excavation. "If this Nere is a True Soul, maybe I can get through to him."
The overseers sneered at first, but then realized that based on the official escort by Greymon, this group of True Souls must be the real thing.
The duergar and gnomes parted before Del, waiting to see what he would do. He approached the scattered rock and masonry around the blocked entrance, hoping that he wasn't just talking out of his ass here. Bracing himself with one hand against the nearest boulder, he reached out with his mind.
"Hello?" He called mentally. "Is anyone in there?"
There was no verbal reply, but Del thought he could sense a presence on the other side. It was faint, and flickering as if the signal was blocked or the other person was fading out of consciousness. Del reached for it, homing in on the sensation of another mind in the distance, until finally he made contact.
"A True Soul? Finally!" A voice shrieked into his mind. Nere, presumably. "Expedition... passage trapped. Gnomes are useless.. You must clear... rubble... Filling with poison... Get me OUT!"
Del focused harder, trying to get a better idea of where Nere was and what he was up against. Then, suddenly, he could see things from Nere's perspective, validating what he'd discussed with Astarion earlier. The view through Nere's eyes was a blur – he could only make out a bit of rubble and a few moving figures. Then the figures resolved themselves into two gnomes, feverishly working to remove debris, while two other small figures lay unmoving at their feet.
Del sighed. If what he had heard of this Nere fellow was accurate, Del didn't even want to help him escape. But the gnomes trapped in there with him were innocents, and probably friends of Thulla's to boot.
"Hold on," he called to Nere. " I'm getting you all out of here!"
Then he paused, wondering how exactly he would make good on that promise. The duergar and gnomes were talking about explosives – someone had been sent to fetch the ones they used for heavy-duty mining operations, but they hadn't returned yet.
"Wait," Del said, remembering the smokepowder bomb he had stolen from the goblin camp and kept stashed in his satchel. "I have an idea."
Everyone cleared out of the area, allowing Del to throw the explosive. It went off like a firecracker, shaking the rocks and making dust rain from the ceiling... but didn't clear the cave-in entirely. At least the rocks had shifted slightly; the smaller stones moving aside to expose the remains of a collapsed archway. That was the real barrier trapping Nere and the gnomes inside.
Del was out of smokepowder now, and no more was forthcoming. The gnomes were whispering furiously among themselves, and with a sudden flash of insight he realized that they knew where more explosive powder could be found... They were hiding it; saving it for something. Weighing the benefit of bringing it forth to help their friends, but also freeing their greatest tormentor...
Del snapped to attention, realizing he'd been staring off into space with what was likely a pretty odd look on his face. "Right," he said, shaking off whatever had come over him. "Time for the backup plan."
He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind as he'd done when absorbing the tadpoles or practicing his telekinesis in the myconid colony. Then he focused on the shape of the collapsed archway. How heavy were the broken stones? If he were to lift them, where would be the best place to get a grip?
Del's gaze locked onto the smaller half of the arch, where the stone had cracked buckled a bit off-center. He concentrated on the stone, imagining it floating up into the air... But there was no change. Frowning, Del switched to visualizing an extension of his own arm lifting the stone. Nope, still no major changes... But wait, was that a tiny movement in the rock pile? He thought the archway budged a fraction of an inch that time.
"What's he doin', taking a shit or something?" laughed a duergar as he pushed to the front of the crowd, his shoulder shoving Del's hip nearly hard enough to make him lose his balance. "Step aside, boy. I'll show you how the real-"
SNAP.
Del had lost his focus on smoothly lifting the rock, but he'd still been directing all his mental energy at it when the duergar pushed him. The sudden discharge of psionic energy was enough to create a new breaking point in the archway, making it collapse into smaller pieces and destabilize the whole pile of stone in the process.
Everyone jumped out of the way as the rubble shifted, spreading out from the site of the cave-in and allowing a gap to open up at the top.
Mere moments after the rumble of shifting rocks had ceased, the onlookers saw a shape moving through the cloud of dust that had puffed up when the rubble was disturbed.
"Nere! Is that you?" called the sergeant.
The drow scrambled up the rock pile and pulled himself through the gap, coughing and sputtering. But within moments, he regained his composure and strode haughtily through the gathered duergar and gnomes, ignoring the two small figures struggling free from the rubble behind him. His eyes, doubly red due to the bloodshot sclera and crimson irises, locked onto Del.
"You," he said. "True Soul. The Absolute sent you to me just in time to correct the mistakes made by these sniveling fools." He aimed a kick at one of the two gnomes who had escaped the cave-in with him, and the diminutive man barely managed to dodge the blow.
"Hey," Del said, holding up a hand. "What was that for? I'm sure they were trying their best. And didn't two more gnomes die back there? Maybe we should recover their bodies before we stand around talking."
Nere audibly snorted. "You want me to breathe that gas again, for mere slaves? You must be joking. Either that, or they've sent me someone soft in the head." The drow's eyes narrowed as he took in Del's appearance. "Ugh, more than just soft, I'd wager. Is there something rotten in that skull of yours, half-breed?"
Del tried to swallow down the rage that was rising up inside him, more on the gnomes' behalf than his own. They had suffered and died for their master, and all he did was kick and insult them?
"I said, we should go back and get them. Are you sure the others aren't still alive?" There was a steely tone to Del's voice now – he wasn't sure where that had come from. He normally had trouble with authority, but something about the drow's smug face made him want to push back and assert himself.
Nere sneered. "Even if they are alive in there, they won't be once I'm done with them." He pulled a wicked-looking rapier from a sheath at his belt, then brandished it threateningly at the gnomes cowering at his feet. "Worthless slaves! Your incompetence will be my ruin."
"That's enough," Del warned, his blood coming to a simmer. "No more innocents die here today."
Nere stopped and considered Del intently. "You're a True Soul, and the Absolute demands the slaughter of these gnomes. Yet here you stand, in bold defiance. A test... yes, you must be! The Absolute bade you to test my faith."
Nere shot Del a wide, unhinged grin - then extended his rapier and lunged at the gnome woman who had been trapped in the collapsed hallway with him. She jumped back, terrified, but she was too slow...
If Del's anger had been simmering before, now it boiled over. He went for the drow without thinking, diving at him just in time to break his stance and deflect the blade aimed for the gnome's heart. Then he leaped up and drew his own blade. After the goblin camp he'd switched back to using a sword for added versatility, and was glad for it now as he swung and parried Nere's rapid flurry of strikes.
"Duergar!" called Nere as he went on the attack. "Kill them! Let these traitors' blood prove your devotion!"
"Del, you idiot!" Shadowheart yelped as she dodged what looked like a mining pick thrown by a duergar. "Why do you and your big mouth always get us into fights?"
As Del fended off the drow and duergar, he saw the gnomes break ranks and run rather than engage in fighting for either side. What are they doing? He thought frantically as more and more duergar arrived to join the battle, rallied by Nere's cry. We can't win this without them. Don't they want to be free?
And then the barrage of explosives began. Del realized that the gnomes had been running for supplies, getting the smokepowder they'd stashed away for a chance at rebellion. Now nearly a dozen of them were gleefully lighting fuses, then throwing the bombs at any duergar who got far enough away from Del and his party to mitigate the risk of friendly fire.
Nere, however, had caught wind of this strategy. He was sticking uncomfortably close to Del, fighting at close range with a mix of melee attacks and spells with incantations so short that they seemed to come out of nowhere.
One of the glowing bolts of energy hit Del before he could dodge, but instead of fire or ice, he felt the oddest compulsion to drop his weapon and stop attacking the drow. It didn't last long, though, before he saw it for what it was, and the feeling fell away.
"Nice try!" Del taunted him through the tadpole connection. "Wanna see some real mental powers?"
Unlike with Nere's magic, there was no need to incant a spell or gather components. Del simply called upon his rage and imagined himself pushing the drow away - and away Nere flew, slamming into a duergar and knocking them both prone in a tangle of limbs. Del was quite pleased with himself, at least until he realized he couldn't immediately replicate the feat once Nere got back up again. Shit! Was there a time limit on these powers before he could use them again?
So Del charged back into the fight the old-fashioned way, hefting his greatsword and roaring a battle cry. His strikes were a bit clumsier than they'd been before his brush with ceremorphosis, but he compensated with an improved ability to predict his opponent's intentions before Nere could strike. He even managed one more feat of psionic activity, deflecting the drow's rapier inches from his chest when he missed a block... But by and large, it was a battle of wit and blade in the usual manner.
The gnomes and his companions took down the duergar one by one. Nere's eyes grew wider and his fighting style become more frantic and desperate as his allies fell, and eventually he made a mistake, leaving his right side unguarded as he struck to the left. Del turned his dodge into a whirling strike, spinning his sword in an arc that ended with the blade embedded halfway through the drow's neck.
Nere dropped instantly as his spine was severed, blood bubbling up from his mouth. Del heaved the sword free from his enemy's body, panting in exertion but ready to strike again if needed. But Nere was dead within moments, and no other enemies remained.
Later, when the adrenaline of battle had faded and everyone's wounds had been healed, Karlach and Shadowheart approached Del.
"I hate to question your methods, Del," Shadowheart said. "But couldn't we have done that with a bit more subtlety? Tried to play nice for a bit, made plans with the gnomes. Maybe even seen if we could have gotten a few of the duergar on our side?"
Del looked up at her in surprise. "I just got angry, I guess. Was I really just supposed to stand there and let him kill gnomes to keep our cover? I bet that one he attacked – Meerna was her name, wasn't it? - was glad I stopped him before he could stab her."
"Del's right," Karlach said to Shadowheart, then turned back to him. "Good on you for stepping up and doing something! I was getting ready to smash him too if you hadn't beat me to it. But I was wondering... Can I ask you something?" Del nodded his assent, and Karlach continued; "You got so pissed off at Nere back there, I thought you were about to blow steam out your nostrils. But just a couple days ago you didn't care too much about gnome slavery when you were talking to that duergar by the lake. What changed?"
"What she means to ask," Shadowheart picked up the thread of the conversation, "Is, are you still a thrall? Or did the tadpole eat that part of your brain already?"
Del considered the question. "I wasn't pissed at Nere just because he owned slaves, but because he treated them so badly. He would've killed Meerna if I hadn't stopped him! But... the more I see out here, the more I think Karlach is right about slavery being wrong in general. I'm sorry for being so blind to it earlier." He looked down at the ground, his face heating up at the thought of some of the things he'd said earlier in their journey together. Thank the gods that he'd never shared his thoughts aloud about Karlach and Astarion escaping their masters...
"Hey, soldier. Don't sweat it," Karlach said. She looked like she wanted to hug him, but held back due to the steam still rising in faint wisps off her superheated skin. "It's called personal growth."
"About the thrall thing..." Del continued, figuring he should share this with everyone. "I do think the transformation helped, weirdly enough. I've been getting some of my old memories back. I'm pretty sure Fidelius isn't even my real name, since my mom called me Jonas."
Del looked up to see that the other companions had taken a break from looting bodies and searching the campsite to come over and join him.
"Shall we start calling you Jonas, then?" Astarion asked. "I've never liked your name, anyway. Too much like something I'd name a dog."
An image of Eldriss petting Del's head with a tentacle and calling him Fido flashed in his mind's eye, and he clenched his fist so hard that his nails dug half-moons into his palm.
"Never using the full name again," he said. "Or their other nicknames for me. But I thought of Del myself, when I was talking to the other thralls – my master didn't give it to me. And Jonas doesn't really feel right, either. It feels like someone else's name now. Even if I get more memories back, it's been so long... I'm not that kid anymore."
Astarion and Karlach nodded their understanding, and even Shadowheart looked sympathetic.
"So Del it is, then," Karlach declared. "I can get behind that. Easier to remember."
"Who would have thought?" Gale asked rhetorically. "Ceremorphosis as cure rather than disease? If we all survive this, I should write up your case for a journal back in Waterdeep." He shook his head in disbelief. "But I'm glad at least some good can come from all our misfortune." Then he paused. "Is there a definitive test to prove you're no longer enthralled? Something you couldn't do before, like attacking an illithid?"
"Do you see many around here?" Del asked. "I'm not gonna try hurting Omeluum or- " damn, he'd almost said the Emperor - "Or anything to prove it!"
"You're right," Gale apologized. "It was insensitive of me to ask for proof. But speaking of our cephalopodous collaborator, we should probably return to the myconid colony."
"Yeah, let's go," Karlach said, getting to her feet. "Scratch is waiting back there, and most of our supplies. And we have to show the myconids we've kept up our end of the bargain."
Del nodded, getting up as well. He walked the short distance to the battlefield that the dig site had become, then pulled out a wickedly serrated knife he'd picked up off a dead duergar. He turned to the body of Nere, which still lay where the drow had fallen, and grimaced in distaste as he contemplated what he was about to do. What better way was there to assure Thulla and the myconids of their victory than to bring the head of their mortal enemy as proof?
Author's Note: Sorry I ended the chapter kinda randomly, it just kinda kept going and I couldn't think of a better stopping point in the action. I wanted to include at least a little post-battle dialogue instead of just going through plot events from the game, and show Del's 'personal growth' as Karlach said haha. Hard to still be brainwashed when at least half your brain is made of tadpole! Anyway, please favorite and leave a review if you're enjoying this story :) It really helps on those days when writing feels like more of a chore than a fun hobby