Hello, again! I gotta say, switching from a Wyll POV to a Karlach POV is definitely a wild ride (and one with a lot more swearing jaja). And it also super fun. I'm really enjoying getting into Karlach's thoughts, and I hope you do, too.
And without further ado, onto chapter 2!
The river was fucking freezing.
It was late at night, with the moon high in the sky and only a spattering of clouds overhead. The only sound came from the rushing water. Well, that and the occasional fish that grazed Karlach's legs every now and then. They were scaly, slimy, and rushed away from the water that was distinctly warmer around her blazing hot skin.
Still, the river did temper the heat. It was cold, colder than anything Karlach had touched in ten years. She shuddered with chills every time a new surge of frigid water rushed by. The river must come out of a dark cave if it was this damn cold. Or maybe it was a normal temperature, and Karlach's body was overreacting as it adjusted to being out of the Hells. It was confusing and, again, fucking freezing.
But it was also amazing.
"Can't believe I forgot what it feels like to be clean." Karlach closed her eyes and lowered her hair and horn into the water. Tiny bubbles popped around her body, letting out bits of steam as they reached the surface. "Forget about escaping Zariel. Leaving the Hells was worth it just for a damn bath."
No one answered. Not that Karlach expected a reply. The whole reason why she waited until nightfall was to ensure that she'd be alone. After spending so many years looking over her shoulder—even when she was supposed to be safe in Zariel's camp—the last thing she needed was to worry about a random trader or ranger stumbling onto her soaking in the river. And it didn't help that she was nude.
Ugh, stop thinking, Karlach, she thought to herself. You've done enough of that for today, and I don't want another headache.
So Karlach leaned into the rocks that kept her steady in the rushing water. She'd chosen a section of the river that was flanked by two large cliffs. They were tall enough that Karlach didn't have to worry about someone sneaking up behind her, and remote enough that she doubted anyone would stumble by. Even in bright daylight.
More than that, this little bank had a cluster of stones that ended just below the water's surface. Almost like a rocky chair that stopped her from following the current all the way down. It was a tight fit, but Karlach made do. Compared to the spiky crevices in the Hells, this could've been a plush chair straight from a duke's manor.
Gods, I could stay here all night, Karlach thought. She sunk deeper into the stones, even as one of them pushed into the spot between her shoulder blades. Maybe this is just what my heart needed. Screw soul coins—this feels just as good as getting a boost from one of the damned things.
A pang of guilt shot itself up Karlach's spine.
No. She wasn't supposed to miss soul coins. They were exactly what they said they were. Souls trapped in a hunk of metal, shaped in a way that could give Karlach's engine a boost in combat. Whenever she used one of them, she felt like the energy of the sun had gone through her body. It was electrifying. But at what damned cost?
Still, she wouldn't even be thinking about them if it weren't for her infernal engine. If only she could find someone who could fix it. Maybe a blacksmith, someone who'd spent time in Avernus and would actually know what they're looking at. Yeah. That'd be nice.
Just have to hope the Blade of Frontiers hopped off my tail, Karlach thought. The water around her grew warmer. It was still cold, but not freeze-her-tits cold. I think he might've been on the Nautiloid? No clue, though. Would be a real pain if I ran into him while trying to find a smith. Wonder if the mind flayers got to him, too. Heh. Maybe he's also got a fucking worm in his brain.
Karlach craned her neck up toward the stars. After the crash, everything had been chaotic. There was fire everywhere, dead illithids and half-dead intellect devourers, and the threat of scavengers coming in. Karlach couldn't risk getting ambushed when the damn parasite had sapped nearly all of her strength, and she definitely couldn't risk checking the wreckage for other survivors. Even if she had wanted to.
One of those survivors could've been the Blade of Frontiers. All it would've taken is one look at her blazing heart, and he would have attacked. He thought she was a monster, after all. And who knows if he'd hear her out.
Stop. Thinking, Kalrach ground in her mind. It's not helping, Karlach. You're out. You're free. Don't ruin this night by think—
That's when the pain started.
It was a sharp, piercing pain. Coming from inside her head, it expanded outward, like a dozen of arrows trying to force their way through her skull. A high-pitched whistle rang in her head, and the stars above her blurred until all she could see was blurry darkness.
"Argh!" Karlach cried. She pressed her head into her palms and squeezed her eyes shut. "Fuck. Fuck!"
The only time she'd felt like this was on the nautiloid. When her pod had opened and the realization that she had a tadpole in her head fully sunk in.
The pain had come to her, but this was worse. It was two, ten, a gazillion times worse! It made her body shudder. Her infernal heart moaned and creaked under the pressure. Her head pounded with such force she wondered if someone had snuck up on her and cracked her skull open. But no one did. There was no blood spilling down Karlach's hands as she gripped her head. And if someone had snuck up on her, she'd be dead. Not fighting off the damn pain that wanted to kill her from the inside out.
And just like that, the pain was gone.
Echoes of it lingered, but the brunt of the pain was gone. No more arrows in her head and axes cracking her skull. It was just Karlach, grunted and wincing in the river.
"Dammit!" she yelled. "Things can't stop happening to me for one damn day!"
She stayed there, clutching her head in her hands, until her heart settled down. Until she could look at the stars and no longer see a blurry mess of lights.
"This shit shouldn't be happening," Karlach muttered to herself. She didn't care about being quiet anymore. If someone was around to attack her, they would've come when she'd screamed. "I mean, I should be a damned mind flayer, for fuck's sake. Can't believe the pain is better than that."
No one replied. The river kept rushing onward, but the cool water no longer brought her comfort.
Karlach grunted and hauled herself out of the river. It took her a moment to gain purchase on the slippery rocks, and even longer to wade through the cold stream. Her makeshift riverbank camp was sparse, with only a bedroll, and a pack of basic supplies leaning against the cliff's wall. She was only staying here for the night, and it's not like her tent in Zariel's camp was ever any neater.
However, what was different was that she had her clothes strewn on a random rock. In the Hells, thievery was as common as, well, pretty much any other crime. Petty or not. If she were still in Zariel's army, she'd have to shove her clothes deep into her bag if she wanted to keep them. Then again, there wasn't any reason to take them off. With her infernal engine, it's not like she could touch anyone. Much less fuck 'em.
Karlach snatched up her barbarian outfit; a dark, tangled mess of black leather that was crusted with ash. She moved to toss it to the side, but immediately gagged when it came too close to her nose.
"Ugh, Gods, is that really what I smelled like?" Karlach reached down and picked up her camp trousers; another ash-covered mess, but at least these were more comfortable to sleep in. She tentatively brought them to her nose.
It took every muscle in her body to stop the bile that crawled up her throat.
"Blurgh—" Karlach yakked and stuttered. She coughed and turned away from the rank garments. "Shit—forget the damn engine. Smelling that, I wouldn't want to fuck me!"
Crouching down, Karlach dunked all of her clothes into the river. The current was as strong as ever, so she used a couple of particularly large rocks to keep them pinned under the water. There. That should do the trick.
Reaching into her pack, Karlach pulled out the last of the fish she'd found in an abandoned barrel near the beach. For the first couple nights in Faerûn, Karlach actually ate the fish raw. She didn't exactly get any practice preparing non-existent fish platters in Avernus, so her raw filets were a bit scaly, and had more than a few strays bones in them. But now that she'd gotten mildly better at cutting them, she figured she'd actually cook one.
It was… edible. Some bits were charred, particularly in the section where Karlach had grabbed the fish with her bare fingers instead of the skewer. But there were only one or two bones. It was cooked pretty unevenly, and nothing like how Karlach's dad used to prepare 'em, but it was fresh food.
Should've asked him to teach me while he was still alive, Karlach mused. She twisted the empty skewer in her hand. What would you think of all this, Dad? What would Mum say?
She knew part of what they'd say. They'd ask how she survived the Hells. How she ever got tangled up with fucking Gortash. And then they'd take her home. Dad would make something with whatever he had stocked in the pantry. Mum would find her a set of clothes that didn't smell like sulfur, even if they came from her own closet.
Gods, Karlach missed them. They'd been gone for years, and she still missed them every damned day.
She thought about them in Avernus, in the few moments of reprieve between battles. Sure, she was relieved that she'd survived another skirmish, but it never really felt like she was actually alive. She was just on pause, waiting for the next fight where she'd have to do everything all over again.
Chucking the skewer in the fire, Karlach reached over and pulled her clothes out of the water. They were soaking, and wrinkled in the spots where the heavy rocks had kept them from floating away, but they were clean. Or as clean as Karlach could get them right now. She set them next to the fire to dry overnight.
For years, Karlach had dreamt of leaving the Hells. Of being free. But now that she was free, she realized that it all came at a price. There was no red carpet rolled out for her. No ride back to the city she called home. No, it was just her, the tadpole, and the rushing river.
Heh. 'Course it couldn't have been easy. Nothing the past ten years had been. There was a parasite in her head, an engine for a heart, and that's without mentioning the living folk legend on her tail.
Hope I don't have to fight the bloke, Karlach thought as she stretched out on her bedroll. I bet it'd be damn fun, but I've got better people to ground into dust.
As Karlach settled in, she focused on her surroundings. It was a technique Flo had taught her some years ago. When the world seemed to crash in on her, she'd ground herself by listing the things around her. The stone beneath her bedroll. The tall cliffs that stretched upwards. The roaring river. The glittering stars.
Gods, there were stars. Actual twinkling stars that greeted her in the night. Avernus didn't have stars. It didn't even have night. It was just constant sun after sun, with an overcast sky covering it all. But now… Now Karlach was gazing at the stars. She knew jackshit about constellations, but if she looked hard enough, maybe she could spot the shape of a cat. An imp. An ax.
All of a sudden, Karlach was grinning.
Gods, I really am out, she thought. I actually made it!
And for the first time in ten long years, far away from the flames of Avernus, Karlach finally felt alive.