"So. How long do we wait before we assume she's been killed by goblins?" Astarion asked, his voice laced with impatience as he tapped the hilt of his dagger. His eyes darted restlessly between the abandoned village of Moonhaven and his companions, his frustration palpable.
It had been an unsettlingly long time since Ishta had confidently strode into the forsaken place, and Astarion could feel a knot forming in his stomach. Being left alone with three individuals who still regarded him with suspicion was not helping his anxiety.
The unease radiating from Gale's uncertain shrug only added to the tension, and Astarion could see that even the normally collected Wizard was starting to look worried about Ishta's prolonged absence.
A loud caw shattered the tense silence, causing all heads to turn towards Mèirleach as he swooped down and landed on a stone wall next to them. Astarion eyed the bird disdainfully, his lip curling as the raven met his hostile stare with an unblinking gaze.
It turned out that the raven had indeed known what a Vampire was all along. Ishta had revealed earlier that Mèirleach had snitched on him, and that she had to reassure the bird that she already knew about him. Since then, Astarion couldn't shake off the feeling that Mèirleach was shadowing him.
Suddenly, without warning, Mèirleach took off and dived straight at Astarion's head. Instinctively, he ducked and shielded his eyes, feeling a sharp tug at his hair as the raven flew past. He looked up to see the bird standing in front of him, a few strands of his silver hair gripped tightly in its beak.
Enraged, Astarion pulled out one of his crossbows and aimed it at the maddening creature. The raven tilted its head and regarded him calmly, almost arrogantly, before taking off once more and heading back towards the village, cawing loudly.
Gale quickly stepped forward and placed a warning hand on Astarion's arm. "I think he wants us to follow him," he advised calmly. "Ishta may have sent him to guide us back to her... best not shoot the messenger."
Astarion's eyes narrowed as he felt Gale's hand on his arm, and his cold gaze flickered down to it and then back to the Wizard.
"Don't touch me." His fingers tightened around the handle of his crossbow, his voice low and menacing. Gale quickly withdrew his hand, instinctively sensing the danger in Astarion's tone, and took a step back.
Lae'zel pushed past them both, her movements fluid and full of purpose as she strode ahead to the gates. Her voice was laced with impatience as she spoke, "Enough of this. I crave blood."
A sly smile tugged at Astarion's lips as he kept his gaze fixed on Gale "What a coincidence... so do I."
Gale politely chose to ignore the comment as he and Shadowheart brushed past Astarion to follow after Lae'zel. The three of them had to practically jog to catch up with the long strides of the Gith woman, and together they entered the deserted village.
The initial challenge from a group of Goblins perched on the roofs of houses flanking the gates was swiftly dismissed by Gale mentioning their affiliation with the 'True Soul'. With hasty gestures and nods, the guards waved them through.
The village itself was a desolate sight; what once may have been a lively and bustling community now lay in ruins. Buildings were gutted and crumbling, succumbing to years of neglect. Weeds and vines crept up through cracks in the once-paved paths, reclaiming what was rightfully theirs. Signs of battle littered the streets - overturned tables, shattered pottery, abandoned weapons - evidence that this place had not gone down without a fight.
The raven led them to a forsaken building that appeared to be a former school. Inside, Ishta sat calmly cross-legged atop one of the many scattered desks - conversing with three towering Ogres.
They were a revolting and formidable sight to behold. Their skin was a sickly shade of yellow, stretched taut over their massive pot bellies that hung over ragged loincloths fashioned from animal hides and bones. Each one brandished a large club, its end stained with the grisly remnants of their previous victims. A potent combination of sweat and dirt permeated the air around them, accompanied by the faint stench of decaying flesh from the fresh gore caked on their weapons and hands.
As Astarion and the rest of the party drew nearer, Ishta turned slightly to acknowledge their presence. Her eyes flickered over each member before settling on Astarion, who couldn't help but stifle a laugh at what she held in her hand - a delicate teacup.
His lips twitched with repressed mirth as he saw her impudent grin aimed at Gale, silently daring any reaction from the Wizard.
The longer Astarion spent in the company of this mischievous troublemaker, the more he enjoyed her wicked sense of humor.
"Welcome, friends," Ishta greeted cheerfully, gesturing for them to come closer. "Lump the Enlightened here has been sharing some interesting local gossip with me."
"Indeed, I have had a refreshingly gratifying parlay with this most enterprising of morsels," the largest Ogre rumbled appreciatively.
Astarion was taken aback by the unexpected eloquence of the hulking beast - as were the rest of his companions. The only one seemingly unfazed was Ishta, who demurely sipped from her cup, observing their reactions with twinkling eyes. He highly doubted there was anything in the cup, but he could appreciate her dedication to the bit.
Lump reached behind his broad shoulders and retrieved a long, curved oxhorn. "Take my bonehorn," he instructed, offering it to Ishta with a caution. "One blow, and the ground will quake with my family name. Use it when the need arises - and never a moment before."
One of the other Ogres chimed in, his voice deep and slow-witted. "Ogre kill everyone around! Then Ogre eats them!"
Lump nodded in approval as he and the two others started to lumber out of the building, "Well spoken. Indeed, Ogre 'kill everyone around'." The sound of their heavy footsteps echoed through the room as they left, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease.
"Dare I ask what that was all about?" Gale arched an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and concern etched in his expression as Ishta hopped off the desk.
Ishta smiled at him and tossed the teacup over her shoulder, its shattered pieces tinkling to the ground behind her. "I recruited them to fight for us. Thought it might be wise to employ a bit of extra muscle, should we need it at the Goblin camp," she informed him with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
As they all exited the schoolhouse and started walking up the main street, Shadowheart's lips curled into a disapproving frown. "I shudder to think what the price of their services was."
Ishta simply shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "A mere hundred gold coins, payable upon completion of their contract, and as much Goblin meat as they can stuff themselves with."
Astarion raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And that was all it took to make them switch sides?"
Ishta grinned back at him over her shoulder. "Great thing about Ogres, even when they get a magical intelligence boost, they're still as thick as two short planks..."
After the encounter with the Ogres, Ishta made the decision to split up from the group and take a quick detour to investigate information Lump had shared, about sightings of a one-horned Tiefling with a 'combustible physiology' - to use his exact term. The idea of a rogue devil nearby made her uneasy, especially considering Wyll's ominous warnings. She needed to ensure that this potential threat wouldn't jeopardize their mission.
She instructed Gale, Lae'zel, and Shadowheart to continue heading towards the Selunite temple and find a safe place to wait for her, while she and Astarion scouted further down the river that ran by Moonhaven. Shadowheart's raised eyebrow at her choice of companion did not go unnoticed, but Ishta had her reasons. The tension between Shadowheart and Lae'zel had only just cooled to a tolerable level, and she didn't want any more conflicts arising from leaving the newly-outed Vampire alone with the rest of the group.
Ishta trusted Astarion not to harm any of the others, but his snarky attitude could easily land him in trouble. Keeping a potential spark away from the powder keg of emotions was the only sensible option.
Besides, it turned out that Astarion was the only one she could count on to be stealthy and provide reliable cover.
Lae'zel and Shadowheart's metal armor made quiet travel nearly impossible, and Gale, despite his best efforts, lacked the subtlety required for scouting. Wizards, in general, had a tendency to be rather conspicuous with their loud incantations and bright flashes of energy.
As Ishta and Astarion made their way along a road that ran alongside the river, she reflected on how much Gale's combat abilities had improved significantly thanks to her rigorous training drills every evening and his own natural ability to quickly master new skills. Observing his progress, it came as no surprise that he had been deemed a prodigy in his youth.
Though she herself had limited arcane abilities, Ishta had fought alongside - and against - enough spellcasters to know how best to use Gale's talents in battle. She often spent time going through his spellbook with him, suggesting different ways he could apply his evocations in various scenarios. He had shown a natural aptitude for combat-based magic, and Ishta was determined to help him harness it fully. Though, she also had the sneaking suspicion that the Wizard was a lot more capable than he was letting on.
"So what happens if we find this devil? Are you planning to recruit them over a cup of tea as well?" Astarion suddenly asked, breaking the silence as they rounded a bend in the road. His voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was an underlying note of genuine curiosity.
His question jolted Ishta out of her musings, and she stared off into the distance thoughtfully. She had to admit that she hadn't really thought that far ahead and said as much to Astarion, who merely tutted disapprovingly in response. Smiling at his unsurprised reaction and flexing her shoulders, she tried to shift the weight of her armor around as they walked.
The pair of leather cuirasses Ishta had meticulously crafted for both herself and Astarion out of salvaged Drow armor were sturdy and protective, but also heavier than her usual jerkin. The humid air was causing sweat to trickle down her back, soaking into the rough material of her clothes and making her feel increasingly uncomfortable.
Above them, Mèirleach's black silhouette circled lazily against the cloudless sky. He had been diligently scouting the road ahead all afternoon and occasionally returning to her shoulder to report anything of interest. Every time he did so, Astarion would scowl at the raven and Mèirleach would swear at him in response. It was a childishly comical display of pettiness from both of them, but Ishta was too amused to put a stop to their rivalry.
She glanced at Astarion, noticing the irritated way he tugged at the various fastenings on his armor. His face, usually so composed, was marred by a frown. Having spent nearly all his life in the dark, he was clearly still struggling to get used to the heat. Surprisingly, he hadn't complained about it once - at least not in her presence.
Halting near an embankment at the side of the road, Ishta ordered Mèirleach to keep watch, and gestured to a patch of shade under a sprawling elm tree. "Let's rest up for a while and cool down," she suggested firmly.
"Oh, thank gods... I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up this pace," Astarion groaned in relief, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight had been lifted.
Ishta frowned in concern and confronted him with a slightly reproving tone. "You should have said something sooner."
"I didn't want to slow you down," he admitted defensively, his eyes avoiding hers. There was a hint of envy in his voice as he asked, "Where do you get your energy from?"
Ishta shrugged as she stepped off the road and sank onto the soft grass. "Comes with my bloodline, I suppose," she responded while starting to unbuckle her cuirass, her fingers deftly working the straps.
Astarion joined her on the grass, mimicking her actions as he removed various pieces of his armor. Each piece landed on the ground with a dull thud as he dropped them beside him. His undershirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to his lean frame, and he looked down at it distastefully, sighing in frustrated resignation.
"Take it off and let it dry out in the sun," Ishta advised, untucking her own shirt and pulling it over her head. The sunlight kissed her skin, and immediately she sensed Astarion's intense gaze on her body - silently thankful for the dark silk bandeau she wore over her chest. When Ishta turned her head to face him, with her eyebrow arched and a challenging glint in her eye, he quickly looked away.
He hesitated a moment, hands poised to lift his shirt as if he couldn't decide whether to take it off or not. Ishta tilted her head and regarded him with a hint of sadness in her eyes. "If you're self-conscious about your scars, I've already seen them." She tried to keep her tone as light and gentle as possible, but he still visibly tensed at her words.
Astarion's head whipped around sharply, a momentary flash of anger in his eyes. His jaw clenched before he quickly regained his composure and a forced smirk appeared on his face. "You've been peeking. I'm surprised; I didn't take you for the voyeuristic type." He tried to make his words sound suggestive, but the edge in his voice betrayed him.
Ishta shook her head and sighed heavily. "I saw them when I caught you hunting that boar, you ninny," she huffed, laying back on the slope and closing her eyes, the cool grass soothing her heated skin.
"My comment still stands..."
Ishta opened one eye and scowled playfully at him, but her expression softened when she saw he'd removed his shirt. Most of his back was angled away from her, but the outer tips of the script carved into his flesh were still visible across his shoulder blades and ribs. Vivid images from Astarion's nightmare flashed into her mind, bringing with them the same feelings of protectiveness towards him that she had experienced that night.
"Cazador did that to you, didn't he..." It was more of a statement than a question, her voice full of empathy.
Astarion frowned and turned his head away from her, nodding slowly. "It's a poem. The bastard considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. He composed and carved that one over the course of a night." His tone was subdued and tight with pain as he laid back on the grass, breathing in heavily. "He made a lot of revisions as he went..." His voice faded as he stared up at the sky, lost in his own thoughts and memories.
"What does it say?" Ishta's eyes searched his face, hoping her question wasn't too intrusive.
Astarion's jaw tightened and he closed his eyes, a bitter expression crossing his features. "I don't know. It's not like I can look in a mirror and see."
Her voice filled with genuine regret, Ishta quickly apologized. "Sorry. I was just wondering why he wrote it in Infernal, that's all."
Astarion's eyes snapped open in surprise and he looked at her, taken aback.
"Infernal? I...," he paused, uncertainty flickering across his face before he shrugged it off and closed his eyes again. "Who knows? The bastard was insane. Anyway, let's talk about something else."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Anything else," he complained, before sitting up suddenly and turning to her with a frown. "Actually, there is something I've been meaning to ask about last night. Was it really necessary to approach me while holding that damn stake in your hand?"
"Yes. You deserved a good scare after what you did to Shadowheart." Ishta's tone was blunt and matter-of-fact of fact; she had no intention of letting him completely off the hook.
Running her hand through the long grass and enjoying the feeling of the cool, green blades tickling her skin, she was aware of Astarion glaring at her but deliberately ignored him. He soon gave up trying to make his displeasure known, laying back and conceding with a wry chuckle, "Fair enough."
Astarion's eyes widened in concern as he took a step back, his heart hammering in his chest at the intensity of the flames that surrounded the figure in front of him. He swallowed hard, his throat dry as he watched the fiery aura grow more intense with each passing second. The searing heat prickled his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his brow. Ishta mirrored his unease, her normally steady hand gripping the hilt of her scimitar tighter than usual as she also took a hesitant step back.
After their brief but welcome respite, he and Ishta had been scouting further down the road, searching for any signs of danger or trouble, when they stumbled upon a recent battle near an outpost. Following a trail of blood had led them to this narrow section of the river, where they found a figure crouched on the opposite bank in front of a makeshift bridge constructed from a fallen tree.
At first glance, the individual appeared to be in distress, prompting Ishta to approach and offer assistance while Astarion lingered behind reluctantly, his instincts screaming at him to stay back. His instincts had turned out to be correct when they were suddenly met with the sight of a Tiefling woman engulfed in flames. She seemed to be struggling to contain the inferno, grunting and groaning in pain from the effort, her muscles tensing with each wave of heat.
Turning her head towards them with an expression of discomfort, the Tiefling noticed their weapons and let out a strained question, "Please tell me you come in peace?"
Ishta's eyes softened, her initial wariness giving way to genuine concern at the desperation in the woman's voice. She immediately lowered her scimitars, though still kept a firm grip on them and cautiously asked, "Are you alright?"
The Tiefling slowly rose to her full and imposing height, facing them fully as the flames surged brighter for a moment before settling into an intense glow. Her movements were slow, deliberate, and filled with a strength that seemed almost tangible.
"Me? I've never been better." She grinned widely, revealing rows of dazzling white teeth against her vibrant crimson skin. The smile was sharp, almost predatory, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.
The towering warrior was a sight to behold, her jet-black and crimson hair flowing wildly atop her head. Shaved on the sides, it accentuated her two menacing black horns that curved like those of a ram. The runes etched into them glowed faintly, adding an otherworldly aspect to her appearance. But one of her horns had broken in half, evidence of past battles fought.
Her physique was awe-inspiring, every muscle defined and rippling with strength underneath a tapestry of scars and tattoos that criss-crossed her skin. The intricate designs told stories of past battles and served as a testament to her resilience. She wore an intriguing blend of leather straps and metal armor, adorned with jingling steel rings that added to her formidable appearance. In her hands, she gripped a massive battle axe, its weight suggesting it took great strength to wield. Together, all these elements created an aura of raw power and dominance that demanded respect - or fear.
Astarion glanced nervously between the imposing warrior and Ishta, who seemed unfazed. "So you're the monster the Blade of Frontiers is hunting," Ishta remarked coolly, eyeing the Tiefling with a calculating gaze. Her voice was steady, but there was an underlying tension in her stance.
He couldn't help but question Ishta's ability to take on this towering Barbarian in combat, but he knew her well enough by now to surmise she would certainly give it a good try. His hands instinctively wrapped tighter around the handles of his crossbows as he scanned their surroundings for potential escape routes should things turn violent. His mind raced, weighing their chances against this fierce-looking opponent.
The Tiefling let out a hearty laugh and threw back her head. "Ha! Gods, is he still chasing me? I'm embarrassed for him." Her tone quickly grew serious again. "So which are you? One of the supposed 'Paladins of Tyr'? Or sent straight from the grand high devil herself?" she spat, raising her axe menacingly. Her eyes narrowed, suspicion etched into every line of her face.
Ishta's face remained calm and she struck a less threatening pose, bringing one scimitar up to rest against her shoulder. "Haven't met any Tyrrans lately, no. And I'm not in the habit of working for devils." Her voice was even, but Astarion could still see the tension in her shoulders.
The Tiefling's smile returned, and she lowered her axe to the ground, nodding approvingly. "Good. Great. Glad I don't have to kill you." Her stance relaxed, and she mimicked Ishta's casual demeanor by leaning on the butt of the axe - though the flames still flickered menacingly around her.
Astarion felt some of the tension leave his body as he watched the subtle conversation playing out through the body language of the two warriors. It seemed this walking inferno was not as much of a threat as they had initially thought. He let out a slow breath, trying to steady his racing heart and slowly put away one of his crossbows, holding the other loosely by his side.
"Glad I don't have to die. That would have really ruined my day," Ishta joked, then tilted her head and regarded the Tiefling with a quizzical smile. "You're not truly a rogue devil, are you Karlach?"
The Tiefling woman's eyes widened in surprise. "How'd you know my name? You sure Zariel didn't send you..." she trailed off, suspicion creeping into her voice as she tightened her grip on the axe. Her eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of deception.
A familiar twitch above Astarion's eye signaled what was about to happen next, and he let out a resigned sigh. "You're about to find out. You may want to hold onto something."
"Huh? What are you— argh!" Karlach's face contorted with pain and confusion, the flames around her flickering wildly.
A flood of memories burst into Astarion's mind - flashes of blood, steel, and flames that painted a hellish landscape. He wasn't sure what it all meant, but it was just as unpleasant as he expected.
"What was that?!" Karlach gasped, shaking her head.
Astarion straightened up and tugged irritably at his cuirass. "That, my dear, was the delightful little worms in our skulls getting acquainted," he informed her with forced cheer, trying to shake off the unsettling experience.
Confused, Karlach turned to Ishta for an explanation. "Long story short, we all have Mindflayer tadpoles in our brains that link us telepathically," Ishta clarified. "Our first connection is usually involuntary and comes with a whole lot of baggage."
"Guess that explains the voices," Karlach shrugged, trying to make sense of the fragmented memories she had received from them. "From that peek I got into your head, you've made some effort to get rid of them. But unfortunately, no success yet. What did you see in my noggin?" she asked with a sly grin, her eyes narrowing playfully.
Ishta sheathed her scimitars and smiled with a hint of relief in her expression. "Enough to know you're not a devil - or a monster for that matter."
She introduced herself and Astarion before offering her hand - then retracting it when she saw the flames still dancing around the Tiefling's body. "You are welcome to join us in searching for a cure for these little stowaways. I could use someone with your brawn, Karlach."
Astarion couldn't resist a sarcastic comment. "You want to just team up with some random blood-stained killer?" he interjected half-mockingly before grinning and gesturing towards Karlach. "Because I'm fine with that. She's almost as scary as Lae'zel. So naturally, she gets my vote."
Karlach laughed but shook her head regretfully. "I'd love to, but I have some parasites of my own to deal with first." She lifted her axe with determination in her eyes. "But if you two lend me a hand, we could get rid of them quicker and then I'll be all yours. So...how do you feel about helping me kill some evil bastards?" Her voice held a hopeful note, but she quickly added, "A little background, in case your moral compass needs something to point at..."
"Darling, you had me at the word 'kill'." Astarion's lips curled into an impish smile and his eyes glinted with eager anticipation.
Karlach snorted in amusement and turned to Ishta, nodding her head in his direction. "Blimey, he's keen, isn't he?"
Ishta sighed and rubbed her temple wearily. "Disturbingly so," she muttered sardonically, rolling her eyes at Astarion's offended expression. "I, however, try to use the compass. Please continue."
Karlach went on to explain how she had been forcibly drafted as a soldier in the 'Blood War' and caught the attention of Zariel, Archduchess of Avernus, with her skills in battle. After spending ten years as the archdevil's personal attack dog, Karlach managed to escape thanks to the chaos caused by the arrival of the Nautiloid, the same ship that Ishta and her companions were on. Now it seemed that Zariel had sent some minions, disguised as Paladin's of Tyr, to hunt down the runaway Tiefling and bring her back to the front lines.
Listening to Karlach's tale of woe, Astarion leaned back against a tree trunk, folding his arms over his chest and assessing the Tiefling woman with newfound interest. Against his will, he felt a pang of sympathy for her; being all too familiar with the concept of forced servitude. His gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a kindred spirit in her desire for freedom.
"Anyway, enough about me." Karlach waved her hand dismissively as she finished her story. "You two gonna help me or what?"
Ishta looked expectantly at Astarion. "Well? Are we?" Her voice carried a note of challenge, but her question was sincere.
"I thought I'd already made my thoughts on the matter clear." He shrugged unconcernedly, but inside he felt strangely gratified that she was genuinely asking if he wanted to lend a hand. He bowed with a flourish and smiled self-assuredly. "Just point me in the right direction and send me off with a pat on the head and a crossbow in my hand."
The trio crouched behind a jagged rock formation, their faces set in grim determination as they surveyed the looming Tollhouse before them. The structure stood perched on a cliffside like a sentinel, its shadow casting a long, ominous stretch over the landscape, guarding its secrets and inhabitants with an air of foreboding. A hot wind rustled the sparse vegetation, carrying with it the distant cries of unseen creatures, heightening the sense of unease.
Ishta's sharp eyes scanned every inch of the structure, searching for any possible entry points. She knew from Karlach that there were only three enemies left to face, but they were not to be underestimated. These were skilled and dangerous fighters, backed by a powerful Patron - beholden to Zarial herself in a Warlock's pact.
Karlach's quiet whisper broke the tense silence. "So what's the plan, soldier?" Her voice was barely audible, yet it carried a sense of urgency and anticipation.
After careful deliberation, Ishta turned to her two companions. She could feel the tension in the air, the electrical thrill of surging adrenaline and unspoken fears and doubts.
"Astarion, try to gain access to the upper floor through that door on the balcony. Karlach and I will take the front entrance." She paused, taking in their dubious expressions before continuing. "Find a good hiding spot and be ready for my signal."
Astarion raised an eyebrow in mocking curiosity. "And what shall this signal be? A desperate plea for help? Or perhaps 'Oh Astarion, why don't these lackeys of an archdevil want to have a peaceful conversation with me?'"
This last sentence was spoken in a nasally, whining tone, and Ishta slowly turned her head towards Astarion. She gave him a withering look, but he simply grinned smugly, unperturbed, while loading his crossbows with incendiary bolts. The metallic clicks and snaps of his preparations echoed in the stillness.
Karlach looked at Ishta with a mix of concern and disbelief, her tail twitching restlessly. "You're not planning on talking to them first, are you?" she protested, her voice raising slightly. "Trust me, these guys won't play nice."
"I have to give them a chance," Ishta insisted earnestly, hoping to sway her fiery companion. "I don't want to kill anyone who may be as powerless in who they serve as you once were."
Ishta took a deep breath, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. She knew her plan was risky, but she hoped it would ultimately prevent unnecessary bloodshed. Recent experiences had taught her to be more cautious in judging others' actions, no matter how twisted or cruel they may seem at first glance.
A quick look at Astarion's serious expression revealed that he grasped the significance of her words. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Ishta saw a flicker of understanding and respect in his gaze. He dipped his head almost imperceptibly in acknowledgment, a rare moment of genuine appreciation.
Karlach, however, was not convinced. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with suspicion and mistrust. "Those bastards chose to make a pact with a devil. They willingly do her dirty work with joy," she spat venomously, her voice filled with contempt and anger.
"I still want to try and reason with them, or if that fails, threaten them to leave you alone," Ishta insisted more forcefully, her eyes locking with Karlach's in a show of determination. "And if that fails... then you can say you told me so, and I'll gladly step aside and let you take the lead in burning the place to the ground." Her tone held an air of confidence and authority.
The Tiefling's tail flicked agitatedly, and it was clear she wanted to argue further. But Ishta was already moving forward, Astarion close behind her. When she glanced back, she saw that Karlach had reluctantly decided to follow her plan - at least for now. The unspoken agreement hung heavy in the air, a fragile truce amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead.
As they approached the Tollhouse, the road leading up to it was littered with the mutilated bodies of Gnolls - hyena-headed humanoids known for their insatiable thirst for blood and violence. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, amplified by the heat and swarms of flies buzzing around the bloated corpses. It was a gruesome sight, one that served as a stark reminder of the brutality they were potentially about to face.
Ishta held her breath as they passed by the grotesque tableau, trying not to let her disgust show on her face.
Even Astarion looked momentarily disgusted, his already pale face whitening further as he took in the scene before them. He made a morbid quip about how 'beautiful' the sight was, but his voice lacked its usual glibness. If he was hoping for a reaction from her, he would be disappointed - Ishta had seen worse. She steeled herself, forcing her mind to focus on the task at hand.
Astarion broke away from the group and headed around the side of the building, while Ishta and Karlach confidently ascended the steps leading to the main entrance. Each creaking step filled the oppressive silence, making their presence known to anyone inside. They stopped at the door, taking a moment to prepare themselves for what was to come. Ishta locked eyes with Karlach, giving her a reassuring nod before reaching for the handle.
Hunkered down in the shadows, Astarion listened in on the scene unfolding below him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Infiltrating the upper floors had been a breeze; a conveniently placed ladder and an unlocked door had granted him prime positioning long before Ishta and Karlach entered the building.
From his vantage point, it was clear that the conversation with the supposed 'Paladins' was not going smoothly. The leader Anders, a human clad head to toe in metal-scaled armor and wielding an impressive greatsword, had initially attempted to play the victim in hopes of gaining sympathy from Ishta. But as soon as she called his bluff, all pretense crumbled and Astarion could hear threats and promises of dragging Karlach back to hell - in pieces if necessary.
Suddenly, the Tiefling's voice rang out above the rest, her words dripping with anger and pain. "Avernus was never my home. It was my prison. I'm free now." With each word, her volume rose until her final statement echoed through the room in a deafening roar of pure rage. "AND I'M NEVER GOING BACK!"
The blood-curdling warcry of a Beserker entering a frenzy reached his ears, and Astarion couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head in amusement. Well, there goes diplomacy. Poor Ishta, she really does try so hard.
He didn't have long to gloat over her failure, as the unmistakable sound of clashing steel pierced through the air, accompanied by the worrying sound of a Hold Person spell being cast. Astarion sprang to his feet and cautiously made his way to a section of broken railings, peering down at the ongoing combat with bated breath.
His eyes immediately found Ishta, valiantly fighting to protect Karlach who had been paralyzed by the sinister effects of the spell. Her body was frozen in place, muscles straining against unseen restraints, a vulnerable target amidst the chaos.
Ishta's twin scimitars clashed against Anders' heavy blade in a deadly dance, each strike filled with ferocity and skill. But despite her best efforts, Ishta was constantly on the defensive against the powerful Paladin, his radiant energy-infused strikes pushing her back.
Astarion's attention shifted briefly to a halfling woman, partially hidden behind some crates and taking aim at Ishta with a shortbow. Acting swiftly, he raised his dual crossbows and took aim, firing off bolts that flew through the air and found their mark in the archer's arm and chest. The archer briefly looked up at him with a shocked expression before her body burst into flames and crumpled to the floor, her bow skidding across the floor.
Taking advantage of a brief moment when Anders' attention was diverted, Astarion reloaded his crossbows and took careful aim at the Paladin. He knew he needed to break his concentration on the Hold Person spell if they were to have any chance of winning this fight.
With a deep breath and steady hand, he released a bolt that sailed through the air and found it's mark in Anders' shoulder, piercing through a gap in his armor. The Paladin howled in pain and faltered, his grip on the spell loosening. In that instant, Karlach's eyes blazed with newfound freedom as the invisible restraints fell away. Letting out a fierce battle cry, she charged into the fray, her massive axe slicing through the air and forcing Anders to back away from Ishta.
Together Karlach and Ishta fought as a seamless unit, their combined strength and skill slowly turning the tide against Anders. The Paladin, formidable as he was, found himself hard-pressed against the dual assault. Astarion's distraction had given them the edge they needed, and they were not wasting it.
In the final moments, the three of them pressed their advantage. Astarion's bolts from above, Karlach's crushing blows, and Ishta's relentless strikes overwhelmed Anders. With a final, desperate cry, the Paladin fell, his greatsword clattering to the ground into a slowly spreading pool of blood.
The maddening roars of a rampaging Barbarian, consumed by Rage, reverberated through the walls of the Tollhouse. Leaning casually against a weathered wooden post outside the entrance, Astarion's eyes flickered quizzically as he listened to the chaos within. The sound of curses and breaking objects filled the air, occasionally causing the thick wooden door to shudder on its hinges. Beside him, Ishta stood with an air of calm indifference despite the turmoil raging inside the building.
"How much longer do you think she'll be in there?" Astarion called out above the tumultuous noise.
Ishta shrugged nonchalantly, her attention focused on examining a slash on her bracers. "However long she needs to be. Karlach seems to have quite a few anger issues to deal with first," she replied with a faint smile.
Astarion's curiosity was piqued, his eyebrows arching in interest. "I wonder how she does it? The flames, I mean," he mused, glancing at Ishta with a mix of intrigue and admiration on his face.
Ishta's expression darkened slightly as she responded, "I suspect she may have some sort of infernal engine implanted in her body. I've heard tales of such augmentations being given to soldiers in the Blood War, but I never thought I'd encounter one firsthand." There was a somber weight to her words.
Astarion's eyes widened appreciatively, a spark of excitement dancing within them. "I knew we were a strange band, but a fugitive from the Hells? Now that's someone worth knowing. Not that I want to get on the wrong side of any devils, but this Karlach is a survivor."
Ishta nodded in agreement, her gaze turning towards the door as another deafening crash reverberated through the air. "She certainly is that..." she murmured, her voice laced with admiration.
A playful tilt of Astarion's head accompanied his mischievous grin as he added, "Plus, I appreciate anyone who starts a conversation with threats of bodily harm."
Ishta chuckled at his words, the lightness returning to her eyes. She gave him a teasing look and quipped, "Ah, so that's why you stick around me?"
Astarion stretched his back with a satisfied sigh and replied with a hint of humor, "Among other reasons, my dear."
As Karlach's rampage continued inside, Astarion and Ishta settled into a comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. However, there was a nagging feeling in the back of Astarion's mind. Something important that he had forgotten. He pushed it aside for the moment, as the door suddenly swung open and a still-burning Karlach emerged into the sunlight.
With a deep breath, Karlach announced her return from her fiery outburst, her eyes shining with adrenaline and a mischievous grin plastered on her face. "Sorry about that," she chuckled, brushing off any concern from her companions. "Had to let off a little steam after facing off with those ignots. Granted the fire's lasting a little longer than it should."
She glanced uncertainly at the flames still curling around her body, their intense heat causing her skin to glow with a warm orange hue. Her eyes widened slightly before she looked back at Ishta, worriedly asking, "How do I look?"
Ishta gave the Tiefling a critical once-over and simply stated, "Hot."
Karlach's grin returned as she playfully tilted her head, sending strands of fiery hair cascading down her back. "Careful, soldier. If I burn any hotter, I may just explode." As if to demonstrate, she shook her body like a dog shedding water, causing the flames to dance and flicker before dissipating into thin air.
Astarion had to hold back his laughter as he watched a slightly perplexed expression cross Ishta's face. The expression turned to suspicion when she glanced over in his direction, but she quickly regained her composure as Karlach began to reveal more about herself.
As it turned out, Ishta's intuition was correct; Karlach's heart had been replaced with an Infernal Engine, allowing her to produce scorching heat without feeling its effects. However, it seemed this device was not meant to be used outside of Avernus and was running dangerously hot.
"The first time I faced those 'Paladins,' they let slip that there was an infernal mechanic in the area," Karlach explained. "A Tiefling. He might be able to stabilize things - if I can find him."
Ishta glanced over her shoulder at Astarion. "I wonder if they were referring to Dammon? He's a Tiefling weaponsmith," she clarified, turning back to Karlach.
Karlach furrowed her brow in thought and ran a hand through her hair. "A weaponsmith? Hmm, he might be the one. A tune-up would do my rusty heart some good." With a sly smile, she added, "Now excuse me for a moment, I want to go and claim that wicked-looking greatsword from Anders. He doesn't need it anymore, and my trusty old axe has seen better days."
As Karlach disappeared back into the Tollhouse, Ishta sidled up to Astarion and cleared her throat. "Um...why do I get the feeling she thought I was flirting with her?"
He turned to her, an eyebrow raised in amusement, his eyes glittering mischievously. "I believe 'hot' is commonly used as slang for someone who is attractive and sexually desirable," he explained with a hint of condescension.
Ishta's eyes widened in realization and she brought a hand to her mouth, her cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. "...oh shit..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Astarion couldn't resist patting her consolingly on the shoulder, momentarily surprised at his own boldness. But the opportunity to tease the mortified Ranger was too tempting to pass up. "There there, my dear. It's understandable that you may not be familiar with all the local vernacular, being a simple, sheltered, uncivilized savage," he quipped.
"And you're a pompous, racist scoundrel who can't go five minutes without shamelessly flirting with anyone nearby," Ishta fired back, before dropping her head and groaning. "But you're not wrong...I don't get out much or interact with people very often." She managed a rueful smile towards him before leaning against a nearby pillar.
"Really? I would have never guessed," Astarion drawled sarcastically, smirking at the irritated scowl Ishta shot him.
"And that is my cue to depart and go on my own scavenger hunt." He bowed mockingly and began to saunter away, relishing the loud and exasperated sigh that followed in his wake.
Deciding to scout around the back of the building, Astarion picked his way carefully through the prickly vegetation, still trying to figure out the lingering sense of unease in the back of his mind. Suddenly it hit him - quite literally - as a figure leapt from the shadows and charged into him, knocking him flying. Astarion grunted as he hit the ground, and remembered only too late that Karlach had mentioned that there were three fake Paladins in the Tollhouse.
The human female stood over Astarion, her sword poised to strike his chest. But before she could make a move, he rolled to one side and knocked her off balance with a well-placed kick. As she tumbled to the ground beside him, Astarion's feral instincts took over and he lunged at her with his fangs bared.
With a primal growl, Astarion sank his teeth into the woman's neck, relishing the rush of sweet blood and adrenaline coursing through his body. The woman struggled beneath him, but he held her in place until she finally went limp in his grip.
As the warm, coppery liquid flowed down his throat, Astarion's senses heightened. He savored the taste of blood and the rush it brought him, but was abruptly pulled back to reality as he sensed a presence behind him. He quickly raised his head and spun around to face a very startled Karlach, who gasped in shock.
"Holy shit! You're a Vampire!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.
Astarion nonchalantly wiped the blood from his mouth with a flick of his wrist, his expression daring as he raised an eyebrow. "Yes, and?"
Karlach shrugged casually, trying to play off her initial shock. "Nothing, it's all good. Just surprised me, that's all...though the pale skin and red eyes should have clued me in, I guess," she added, tilting her head as she studied him with curious fascination.
A smirk tugged at Astarion's lips as he responded with an offended huff. "Rude. For all you know, I could have been born looking like this."
"Oh gods...yeah, sorry, I didn't think..." Karlach quickly started to apologize, her face flushing with embarrassment. But then she tilted her head and gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah, but you weren't. So don't try to make me feel guilty. But seriously, how can you be out in sunlight? Is the parasite responsible for that?"
"That's my theory, yes," Astarion confirmed with a nod, his expression softening as Ishta appeared from around the corner.
Karlach hesitantly glanced at Ishta before leaning in closer to Astarion and whispering conspiratorially, "Does she know? That you're a...you know."
Before Astarion could respond, Ishta's voice cut through their conversation with curiosity. "That he's a what?" she asked as she approached them while meticulously cleaning her scimitars with a cloth.
The setup couldn't have been more perfect.
A mischievous glint flashed in Astarion's eyes as he turned to face Ishta, hiding his amusement from Karlach. He sighed dramatically and spoke with an air of guilt and solemnity, "Oh dear, I was hoping to delay this conversation a bit longer. But there's something about me that I feel I ought to tell you."
Ishta caught on quickly, tilting her head and folding her arms in front of her with a concerned expression. "Oh yes? And what might that be?"
Beside him, Karlach fidgeted nervously as she watched the interaction. She let out a worried murmur of "Uh oh..." and Astarion struggled to maintain his composure, trying not to break into a smile.
"It's nothing big or terrible," Astarion began with feigned unease, his voice trembling for added effect. "Just a small little detail about me that hasn't come up naturally...I happen to be a - what's the best way to put this?" he paused dramatically, glancing at Karlach before continuing, "a Vampire."
He added in an nervous giggle for extra impact and couldn't resist sneaking a glance at Karlach from the corner of his eye. The Tiefling was staring wide-eyed at Ishta, anxiously waiting for her response as if bracing for a fight or flight situation.
And Ishta did not disappoint.
With a gasp that could startle nearby birds, Ishta stepped back in shock, her hand placed dramatically over her heart. "By the Nine Hells! How could you keep such a despicable secret from me, after all we've been through together?!"
Astarion held his hands up in a pleading gesture, looking at Ishta with mock sincerity shining in his eyes as he implored, "Come now, my dear. Things haven't really changed - I'm still the same sweet, lovable rogue. My smile is just a little...sharper."
Ishta recoiled in horror, stumbling backwards with an expression of terror on her face. Astarion couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the exaggerated performance.
"Karlach, quick! Find me a stake!" Ishta cried out in panic, scrambling behind an overturned cart for cover. "And slather yourself in garlic!" she added desperately, peeking out from her hiding spot with wide eyes.
Astarion wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of being covered in the pungent herb. "I highly doubt it would stay on her... but I suppose the smell of burnt garlic is just as effective," he mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
Karlach watched them with wide-eyed confusion, her suspicion growing by the second as she started to put the pieces together. "Hold on a minute..." she trailed off, realization dawning on her.
"Stay back, fiend! I have Shadowheart's canteen and I'm not afraid to use it!" Ishta's laughter echoed through the air as her facade crumbled.
"Ha! Water blessed by Shar would probably make a Vampire stronger," Astarion scoffed.
Amused and slightly relieved, Karlach chuckled and shook her head, folding her arms across her chest. "All right now, you two. Joke's over." She turned to Astarion with an appreciative nod. "You got me good."
Still laughing, Ishta emerged from behind the cart and stood beside Astarion, looking up at the Teifling with bright eyes full of mirth.
Karlach regarded the two of them with a similar twinkle in her eye and grinned widely, showing off her teeth. "You know what? I think I'm going to enjoy traveling with you. I have the feeling we're gonna be good friends."
Ishta's smile widened and she nodded firmly in agreement. "I believe you're right."