Ishta Dawnstar was once a renowned Monster Hunter and Vampire Slayer from the enigmatic Xindite race in the Aglarond region of Faerûn. Her skills with sword and bow were as terrifying as her ferocity in battle, and Undead up and down the shores of the Sea of Stars whispered her name in dread; The Blood Huntress of the East. Then Ishta was captured by an Illithid Nautiloid and implanted with a parasitic tadpole that will eventually transform her into an unspeakable horror, a Mindflayer.
Now she journeys with a ragtag band of other escaped survivors as they navigate the wilds of the Sword Coast, trying to find a cure for their shared affliction. Along the way they will all face many challenges, some in the form of Devils, Monsters, Cultists and Ancient Gods and some in the form of their own personal demons. One companion in particular will force Ishta to re-evaluate her long held convictions about the nature of good and evil, and help her come to terms with the darkness that lurks within herself.
This story aims to be the full journey of my 'Tav' frrom the video game Baldur's Gate 3. While I have tried to stay as faithful to the original source material as I can, I have made a few tweaks to the lore for a more engaging narrative flow. (I'm looking at you Withers and your OP resurrect spell...also you Vampires with your stupid no breathing and no heartbeat malarky) The tale will be told mainly from Ishta's POV as the protagonist, Astarion's as a main character and the other companions as supporting characters.
DISCLAIMER: I will be using dialogue taken directly from the game, sometimes word for word, sometimes altered slightly. I do not take any credit for the fantastic job done by the writers at Larian Studios. They did all the hard work, I'm just telling the story from my Tav's point of view.
'Well, you can't say today hasn't been interesting,' Ishta thought, her gaze fixed upon the grotesque sight of the brain on legs currently communicating with her. Moments before, she had extracted it from the skull of an unfortunate victim of a gruesome Mindflayer experiment. Ishta shuddered at the thought that the elf's corpse, lying in the 'birthing chair,' could just as easily have been hers. "There but for the grace of Gith," she muttered under her breath.
The Red Dragon that had smashed its way into the chamber where her pod had been was long gone, but the cacophony of roars and clashes from outside the ship reminded Ishta of the dangers lurking beyond. Self-consciously, she rubbed her left temple, uncomfortably aware of the recent unwanted addition to her brain. It was hard not to dwell on it amidst the sickly ambiance of the organic vessel, its walls dripping with viscous fluids and lined with writhing tentacles and other biological appendages. Ishta reflected that Illithids certainly had a unique take on architecture—though it was certainly more appealing when engulfed in flames, as most of it currently was. Forcing herself to focus, she tuned back into the telepathic communication with the bizarre creature before her. Ishta had encountered Intellect Devourers before, but this was the first time she had been a witness to the 'miracle' of one's birth.
"To the helm we go! We are going to the helm," the creature's disjointed 'voice' echoed in her mind.
"Yes, we are, you creepy little thing," Ishta nodded in reply, her stomach churning slightly at the thought of what might lie ahead. "Any idea where I might find this helm?"
The silence that followed was far from reassuring, prompting Ishta to turn and descend a ramp leading deeper into the ship. To her left, a path meandered further into the vessel's organic innards, prompting Ishta to break into a jog. Parts of the outer wall had been ripped away, revealing glimpses of the chaos outside—energy beams, dragons, and other winged monstrosities she couldn't identify. Fear and excitement mingled within her as she reflected on how drastically this day had deviated from her expectations. What had begun as a routine escort mission had spiralled into a harrowing struggle for survival. While it was true that she had wished for something interesting to happen, being zapped into tiny fragments by a giant tentacle from the sky and ending up trapped inside a windowed pod onboard a Nautiloid was perhaps a tad more excitement than she had bargained for.
Which was why, when a Githyanki warrior somersaulted over her head and landed in front of her with a drawn longsword, Ishta decided she would be very careful about what she wished for in the future.
"Abomination! This is your end," the warrior's voice boomed, her blade aimed menacingly at Ishta's chest.
Before she could react, Ishta felt her head throb and her skin tingle. Visions rushed past her clenched eyes of a Dragon's wing, a silver sword, and a flash of her own face seen through the strange woman's eyes. As she regained her bearings, she found the Gith warrior also staggering, possibly experiencing her own visions. "My head. What is this…ngh," she winced, her gaze locking with Ishta's. "Tsk'va. You are no Thrall—Vlaakith blesses me this day! Together we might survive," she declared, a glimmer of hope igniting within her eyes.
"Who are you?" Ishta inquired warily, her hand instinctively inching towards the pair of scimitars strapped to her back.
The Gith answered her scornfully, "Who am I? Your only chance of survival."
Ishta didn't fail to notice the emphasis placed on the word 'only' but chose not to argue the point. "What made you think I was a thrall?" she asked instead.
The Gith's response was laced with urgency. "We carry Mindflayer parasites. Unless we escape—unless we are cleansed—our bodies and minds will be tainted and twisted. Within days we will become ghaik, Mindflayers," she warned.
It took a moment for the Gith's words to fully sink in, and when they did, Ishta had to resist the urge to burst out laughing. 'Wonderful… I was just thinking it had been too long since something tried to turn me into a monster,' she shook her head bitterly but kept silent.
The Githyanki had turned away from Ishta, her attention caught by something in the distance. Ishta followed her gaze and, through the entrance to another chamber, she saw a group of small, winged creatures huddled around the body of a humanoid. The crunching and ripping sounds from them were disturbingly clear, despite the ever-present roar of dragons and the explosions echoing throughout the room. One of the creatures raised its head, revealing an apelike face with short, pointed horns and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Its entire head was smeared with blood, and pieces of wet flesh still clung to its jaws. It was an Imp, one of the many malevolent little creatures that called Avernus home.
Ishta tore her gaze away from the gruesome sight as the Gith spoke again, her voice cutting through the cacophony like a blade. "We can do nothing about it until we escape. That must be our priority. First, we exterminate the Imps, then we find the helm and take control of the ship. As for that thing, it will remain tame as long as it believes we are thralls," she said, nodding at the Intellect Devourer standing at Ishta's feet. "It may prove useful in the fight to come."
Ishta glanced down at the creature beside her. She had completely forgotten about her new 'pet' and looked at it with disinterest. She wasn't sure what help it would be apart from Imp fodder, but better than nothing. The Gith was already charging into battle, her longsword drawn and bellowing, "Htak'a!"
"I guess that's the Githyanki word for attack," Ishta murmured to herself, pulling her short-bow over her head. The air was thick with tension, the weight of impending violence hanging over them. There were only three Imps that she could see in the chamber, and Ishta knew she could take out at least two of them from where she stood. Nocking an arrow and taking aim, she waited until all three Imps had turned to face the oncoming warrior before releasing the taut string. Her arrow flew swift and true, embedding itself in the side of one Imp's head with enough force for the shaft to poke through the other side.
Time seemed to slow as she drew another arrow from the quiver on her belt, the smooth motion of nocking it almost a ritual in its precision. Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her veins as she took aim at another Imp. Her second arrow found its mark just as the head of the third Imp went flying, the Githyanki warrior slicing it clean off with one swing of her gleaming longsword.
Ishta lowered her bow, her breathing quick and heavy with the thrill of victory. She made her way over to the Gith woman, who turned to face her appraisingly. "You prove surprisingly adequate in battle," she commented tersely, her eyes glinting with a mixture of respect and challenge.
"You're not so bad yourself, lass," Ishta replied, raising an eyebrow. The hint of a smile tugged at her lips, a rare moment of levity in the midst of their dire circumstances.
"That is not my name. You may call me Lae'zel."
Ishta forced herself to keep a straight face as she nodded in acknowledgment, "Noted. And you may call me Ishta."
As the pair made their way through the ship, climbing up lattices made from what looked like sinews and over bridges made of bone and chitin, Ishta found herself glancing often at her strange new companion. She had heard of the Githyanki, but their existence was more akin to folktale or myth in most lands. Not much was known about their origins or culture aside from the fact that they lived on the Astral Plane and were formidable warriors. Looking at the intricate details on the bright metal plate armor Lae'zel wore, Ishta hazarded a guess that the Githyanki prized artisans just as much as blacksmiths. The armor was adorned with patterns that seemed to glow faintly, the craftsmanship exquisite and alien.
The ship suddenly lurched violently, throwing Ishta against a wall. Lae'zel steadied herself with a growl, her eyes narrowing. "The Nautiloid won't last long under all these dragon attacks. Forward!" she barked, her voice sharp with urgency.
"I'm going as fast as I can..." Ishta muttered quietly, wincing as she pulled herself up onto a ledge. Ahead, a sphincter-shaped doorway stood ominously in front of them. Ishta couldn't help but grimace slightly, the memory of a past adventure flooding her mind. She had once been forced to rescue a party of adventurers swallowed by a Gargantuan Hill Giant and had to escape using the... back entrance. The thought made her shudder.
The 'door' opened with a wet, organic sound, revealing a large chamber filled with pulsing, bioluminescent machines and a ring of pods similar to the one Ishta had climbed out of. Surrounding a central console of some sort, the scene was both awe-inspiring and grotesque. Flanking the console on either side were four raised tables, tilted forward, three of which had humanoids lying on them. Quickly crossing the room, Ishta examined the figures and found they were still alive but totally unresponsive. Each one had slack, drooling jaws and rolled-back eyes. Ishta sighed in regret, her expression softening. "Candles are lit but nobody's home..." she murmured, touching one of their cold hands gently.
An urgent thumping sound caught her attention. Ishta turned sharply, her heart racing, to see one of the pods holding a dark-haired woman clad in peculiar, metallic armour. The woman was banging on the clear window frantically, her eyes wide with terror and desperation. As Ishta drew closer, the woman's muffled voice reached her ears, frantic and pleading, "You! Get me out of this damn thing!"
Lae'zel came up beside Ishta, her impatience palpable in the tautness of her movements. "We have no time for stragglers. We have to get to the helm," she snapped, her gaze flicking nervously to the ceiling as another violent shudder rocked the ship.
Ishta hesitated, her brow furrowing in conflict between urgency and compassion. "We can't just leave her here," she protested, her eyes locking onto Lae'zel's with fierce determination.
Lae'zel scowled, her lips curling in frustration. "This ship is crashing. Do you intend to die for a stranger?" she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper of urgency.
Narrowing her eyes at the Gith, Ishta ignored the biting question and turned back to the pod. She examined the control panel beside it, her fingers tracing over the alien symbols with a blend of hope and desperation. "Hold on, I'm getting you out," she said, trying to project reassurance to the panicking woman inside. However, Ishta could find no clue on how the mechanism operated, aside from what looked like an empty socket that might have once contained an object. Scanning the room with a growing sense of urgency, Ishta spied two more doorways and headed towards the nearest, just as it opened to admit another one of the roaming Intellect Devourers that were scattered throughout the ship.
The new room Ishta found herself in seemed even more sinister than the last. A single pod dominated the centre, lit by a cold blue glow that shone down from the ceiling above. Surrounding it were structures that looked like chairs, and behind them were strange machines that reminded her of the heads of predatory insects. It had the atmosphere of a macabre auditorium, and Ishta dreaded to think what the main event was. It was the far wall, though, that made her breath catch in her throat. Hanging suspended from wires, like clothes on a rack, were rows upon rows of pods.
"Tsk'va! How many hosts have these ghaik infected?" Lae'zel exclaimed, looking around in dismay, her voice tinged with a mixture of anger and horror.
"I'm not sure we want to know," Ishta responded uneasily, her steps tentative as she approached the central pod. Inside was a dazed-looking young woman who didn't appear to notice them. Directly behind the pod was another console, similar to the one in the previous room; however, this one appeared intact. The alien writing on the console seemed to ripple and shift the more Ishta gazed at it, and a word came unbidden to her mind -Perfect-
Somehow, the glyphs had translated themselves in her brain, and Ishta felt a mixture of curiosity and unease at how that had been accomplished. Her hand reached instinctively to her left eye, and she suspected the parasite now nestled in her brain might have had something to do with it. She doubted that a Mindflayer's idea of perfection was something she wanted to see.
Her musings were interrupted by Lae'zel, who had been searching through the nearby corpse of a human female. Ishta noticed that the dead woman wore the same amulet as the unresponsive men—a metal skull with a red handprint across its face, on a downward-pointing triangle background. Probably a religious or cult symbol of some kind. Lae'zel held up a vaguely oval-shaped tablet inscribed with glyphs and commented, "This must fit the device near that pod." Handing it to Ishta, she snapped, "Here, since you are so insistent on freeing the trapped elf."
Gratefully, Ishta took the tablet and headed back to the central room, pausing only to glance back regretfully at the dazed woman. She knew there was nothing she could do for her right now; time was not on their side, and Ishta reflected that, logically, it made more sense to focus on helping someone who might be capable enough to help her take control of the ship. With this in mind, she sprinted to the console next to the pod containing the frantic elf and inserted the rune tablet into the socket. To her relief, it fit perfectly, and the console hummed to life as she placed her hand on it. Suddenly, she felt a hideous squirming inside her head—the parasite. Ishta recoiled at the feeling, but then the discomfort faded, replaced by something new. A sensation of connection washed over her and a rush of adrenaline surged through her as a single word emerged from the chaos -Authority-
Hesitantly, Ishta reached out to the connection and focused on willing the pod beside her to open. To her surprise, she felt the biomechanical brain of the console process her command and yield to it. A shiver ran across her mind at the feeling of something being sated. Trying not to dwell on the sensation, Ishta turned to look at the pod as it opened up and the woman collapsed out of it onto the floor, gasping, "At last… thought I was done for."
Up close, Ishta could see that she was half-elven and noticed that the leather cuirass she wore over a ring mail hauberk had ornate metal embellishments attached to it. There was something familiar about the symbol emblazoned on her chest, but Ishta couldn't recall where she'd seen it before. Getting to her feet, the woman faced them and breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin. Thank you—argh!"
'Dammit! Not this again,' Ishta thought, her hand instinctively clutching her temple as she and the woman doubled over in pain. This time, though, there were no visions. Only a sense of the woman's gratitude mixed with wariness—because there was a Gith with her.
"You keep dangerous company," the half-elf remarked with a frown, her eyes flicking towards Lae'zel with suspicion.
Ishta raised her eyebrow, a hint of bemusement in her voice. "Have you seen where we are? I think you will find dangerous company is what you need in a fight," she said, her tone edged with practicality.
"Fair point," the woman conceded, her posture relaxing slightly as she exhaled a long breath. "Looks like there's plenty of fighting ahead. Let me come with you. We can get off this ship and watch each other's backs along the way."
Ishta nodded, her own tension easing at the prospect of an ally. "I was just about to suggest the same thing. I am Ishta, by the way, and this is Lae'zel," she introduced, gesturing towards the Gith warrior who stood a few steps back, her eyes still scanning their surroundings warily.
"Shadowheart," the woman supplied with a brief, tense smile. She turned back to the pod, reaching inside with purpose. Ishta caught a glimpse of a small metal geometric object before it was hurriedly concealed in a belt pouch. Her curiosity was piqued, the sight of the hidden item sparking questions, but she decided not to question Shadowheart about it—there were more pressing matters at hand.
"Let's move," Ishta urged, leading the way through the dim, pulsating corridors of the ship. The walls seemed to undulate with a sickening, organic rhythm, and the air was thick with the scent of alien machinery and something metallic, almost like blood.
As they approached another of the sphincter doors, its fleshy edges contracting slightly as if sensing their presence, Lae'zel spoke up, her tone commanding. "We are nearing the helm. Once inside, do as I say."
Shadowheart bristled, her eyes narrowing in defiance. "Who put you in charge? I'll trust my own judgment," she retorted angrily, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of a dagger at her waist.
"Kainyank," Lae'zel spat with scorn, the word rolling off her tongue like a curse.
Ishta had the feeling the word was an insult of some kind and sighed inwardly, sensing the brewing conflict between the two. 'These two are going to be a problem,' she thought, rubbing her temples in exasperation.
"Enough," Ishta interjected firmly, stepping between them. "We can't afford to argue right now. We're all in danger, and if we don't work together, none of us are getting off this ship alive."
Shadowheart glanced at Ishta, her expression softening slightly, but the fire in her eyes remained. "Fine. But I won't be taking orders blindly."
"Nor should you," Ishta replied, giving her a reassuring nod. "But let's focus on getting to the helm first. We can figure out the rest as we go."
Lae'zel grumbled but didn't argue further. The tension was palpable, a taut string ready to snap, but they pushed onward as the door opened up with a wet, squelching sound that sent a shiver down Ishta's spine.
The sight that met their eyes on the other side of the door was pure chaos. The air crackled with energy as two Cambions, towering humanoids with leathery wings and glowing eyes, squared off against two Mindflayers in the heart of the room. The Cambions, with their hulking forms and fiery auras, exuded a palpable menace, while the Mindflayers, with their sleek, alien bodies and writhing tentacled heads, radiated a cold, calculating malice.
The larger Cambion, his crimson skin glistening with infernal power, roared and lunged at the nearest Mindflayer, swinging a massive, flaming sword. The Mindflayer dodged with eerie grace, its tentacles twitching in anticipation. It countered with a psychic blast, sending the Cambion staggering back, clutching its head in agony. The second Cambion was attacked from behind while it was distracted, and Ishta winced as a Mindflayer's tentacles latched onto the cambion's head, writhing and coiling around it with terrifying speed.
The Cambion's massive hands clawed uselessly at the Mindflayer's face, but the grip was unyielding. The Mindflayer's eyes gleamed with malevolent satisfaction as its tentacles pierced the Cambion's skull, delving into its brain with horrific precision. The Cambion dropped to the floor, twitching violently, just a swarm of Imps descended on the Mindflayer, attacking with frenzied ferocity. The Mindflayer screeched in pain as it tried to fend off the swarm. It lashed out with its psychic powers, but the sheer number of Imps overwhelmed it. They swarmed over its body, their tiny claws and teeth doing quick and deadly work. Blood and silver ichor sprayed in all directions as the imps ripped the Mindflayer apart piece by piece.
The remaining Mindflayer turned and spotted them, and Ishta tensed as its glowing yellow eyes fixed on hers. A voice emanated from it and resonated in her head, as it pointed to a device shaped like a brain with tendrils reaching down from the ceiling above it. "Thrall. Connect the nerves of the transponder. We must escape. Now." It then turned back to defend against another swing from the sword-wielding Cambion.
"Do it," Lae'zel commanded, "We will deal with the ghaik after we escape."
'Easier said than done,' Ishta thought as she equipped her bow and nocked an arrow. There was a swarm of Imps and several Hellsboars between them and the helm. Without warning, the Imps attacked, diving towards them with screeches of rage. Ishta reacted instantly, her fingers releasing the bowstring. An arrow whizzed through the air, striking an Imp squarely in the chest and sending it crashing to the ground with two others. She quickly nocked another arrow, her eyes sharp and focused, as the Gith warrior surged forward to meet the oncoming Hellsboars.
"Lae'zel, to your left!" Ishta shouted, her voice carrying over the din of the battle as she spotted a Hellsboar lunging at the warrior from a concealed corner.
Lae'zel, her longsword held ready, pivoted to face her attacker, and with a powerful swing, she brought her blade down on the creature, cutting deep into its flank. The Hellsboar howled in pain, fiery blood spraying from the wound. Lae'zel snarled, her muscles straining as she fought to keep the beast at bay.
"Shadowheart, help her out!" Ishta commanded, her voice a mix of authority and urgency as she took aim at another Imp.
Shadowheart, her face set with grim determination, brought her hands together and shouted, "Mactē Virtutē!"
A radiant shield of light enveloped Lae'zel, warding off the Hellsboar's jaws and making it recoil and shriek in pain. A bolt of bright golden energy shot from Shadowheart's hands as she let forth another shout, this time of "Flagra!" The bolt connected with the same Hellsboar, which gave a blood-curdling scream as it was enveloped in a blinding light. It slumped to the floor, its skin blackened and sizzling.
"So, our new friend is a Cleric. Good to know," Ishta commented, just as another Hellsboar charged at her, its jaws snapping inches from her face. She sidestepped gracefully, her heart pounding, and loosed another arrow. The projectile found its mark, piercing the Hellsboar's eye. The creature squealed and staggered, momentarily blinded. Ishta followed up with a second shot, this time aimed at its throat, and the Hellsboar collapsed, choking on its own fiery breath. "Lae'zel, we need to push through!" Ishta called out, her voice edged with determination.
Lae'zel, battling two more Hellsboars at once, let out a fierce war cry that echoed across the room, a sound full of raw power and determination. Her eyes burned with intensity as her sword sliced through the air with deadly grace, each movement a perfect blend of strength and precision. The first Hellsboar fell, its head severed cleanly from its body, while the second staggered back, wounded and bleeding from a deep gash.
Ishta, positioned a few yards away, focused her sharp eyes on the last remaining Imp. She felt a calm determination wash over her as she drew her bowstring back, her fingers steady despite the chaos around her. With a swift release, the arrow flew true, piercing the Imp's eye and sending it crashing to the ground. The satisfaction of her aim brought a brief, victorious smile to her lips. Slinging her bow back over her shoulder with practiced ease, Ishta drew both her scimitars, the blades gleaming red in the light cast by burning debris, and sprinted toward the helm. Shadowheart and Lae'zel followed close behind, their expressions mirroring her resolve.
Ahead, a single remaining Hellsboar stood between Ishta and the alien transponder, its eyes glowing with an intense, almost unnatural rage. She could feel its anger radiating off it like a palpable force. Without breaking her stride, Ishta leapt upwards, her muscles coiling and releasing like a spring. She soared over the Hellsboar's snapping jaws, feeling a rush of air and adrenaline as she moved. Her blades drove deep into the creature's back with a satisfying crunch, the silver steel slipping effortlessly between the chinks in its bony armor.
As she landed lightly on her feet, Ishta turned to watch the Hellsboar's dying throes. There was a wild, almost feral gleam in her eyes as she gazed at its thrashing body. The surge of adrenaline and triumph coursing through her veins was intoxicating, making her feel invincible. For a moment, the sounds of the battle raging outside faded away, leaving her in a bubble of euphoria and accomplishment. She could hear her own heartbeat, rapid and powerful, as she reveled in the victory.
Lae'zel's voice cut through her reverie like a blade, sharp and urgent. Ishta snapped out of her thoughts and turned to see the Gith had reached the console, her fingers deftly connecting two fleshy, nerve-like tendrils together. The sight was unsettling, a reminder of the alien nature of their surroundings. Lae'zel's cry of alarm pierced the air, and Ishta's heart pounded as she followed her gaze upward.
A massive Red Dragon thrust its head through a jagged hole in the ship's bulkhead, its scales glinting menacingly in the dim light. The creature's eyes burned with malevolent intelligence, and Ishta felt a chill of fear grip her. As the dragon opened its jaws wide, she could see the fiery glow building in its throat. The gout of flame that erupted was blinding and fierce, a torrent of destruction that engulfed the console. The force of the blast sent Lae'zel flying backward, her body slamming into the wall with a sickening thud.
Ishta's breath caught in her throat as she watched, the sight of the blaze both terrifying and magnificent. However, to her astonishment, the console appeared undamaged, its eerie lights still flickering. A sickening lurch twisted her stomach as the entire ship tilted violently to one side. She staggered, trying to keep her balance, but the sensation was disorienting. Panic clawed at her insides as the air around her shimmered and then plunged into darkness for a heartbeat.
When the Nautiloid phased back into existence, they were in the middle of a swirling vortex. The chaotic energy outside the ship was palpable, crackling with dangerous intensity. Ishta barely had time to register the scene before she was hurled forward by the sudden shift in gravity. She instinctively reached out, her hands grasping desperately at any surface, her fingers scraping against the alien metal and organic matter of the ship's interior.
She could hear the roar of the vortex outside, a tumultuous blend of thunder and wind. The chamber, now facing downward, became a treacherous slide. Ishta's heart pounded in her ears as she fought to find a grip, her muscles straining with effort. The scent of smoke and burnt ozone filled the air, mingling with the acrid taste of her own fear.
As the Nautiloid careened through the vortex, Ishta's mind focused on one thing: finding a way to regain control. Her fingers finally found purchase on a sturdy ledge attached to the transponder, and she clung to it with all her strength, her body trembling from the effort and the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The chamber around her was a chaotic blur, but she held on, refusing to let go, her resolve hardening like steel.
Above her head, the connected tendrils twisted and writhed, straining to stay together. Ishta felt a surge of urgency and an overwhelming need to break the bond. Without a second thought, she reached up and grasped the appendages, her arms burning as her body dangled over a gaping chasm. Using the last of her strength, Ishta ripped the connected tendrils apart. The ship shuddered violently in response, and once again, everything went black as Ishta felt her grip slipping.
This time, when the ship phased back into existence, Ishta was met with the sight of a night sky full of stars rushing overhead. A forested landscape stretched out, shrouded in shadows, below her suspended body. The Nautiloid was hurtling toward the ground, the trees rushing up to meet it with terrifying speed. Ishta could see the tops of the trees whipping by, their branches clawing at the ship like skeletal hands.
The sudden transition and the violent descent threw her off balance, and she struggled to hold on, but the force of the ship's movement was too much. Her fingers slipped from the tendrils, and she was flung from the ship, her body hurtling through the night air. The sensation of falling was both liberating and terrifying, a brief moment of weightlessness before the inevitable impact. Ishta closed her eyes and sighed, surrendering herself to the darkness as she plummeted. The last thought that went through her head before she hit the ground was, 'Perhaps now I can finally find peace.'