The two figures approached Taylor's cage. Shadowheart looked on the verge of speaking up, but then shared a quick glance with Astarion, who almost-imperceptibly shook his head. The vampire's eyes flicked back to Taylor and a friendly smile graced his face. "Don't worry luv, we'll have you free in a wink," he replied cheerily. He pulled out his tools and got to work, while Shadowheart opted to move to examine the corpses on the floor more closely.

Taylor, for her part, sat there silently as the tiny dragon nuzzled into her neck, trying to not freak out at her limited mobility. The little beast was very cute, but it could do little to raise her spirits right now. The words echoed through her head: 'Do I have to do everything myself?' Though spoken in jest, there was a nugget of painful truth to them: Taylor had used her powers to aid the others, lead them to treasure and magic artifacts and shelter, even gifted her fucking blood, all so that she wouldn't have to raise a weapon herself. So that she could keep some semblance of her purity intact in this awful awful world.

She wasn't supposed to be here. Today was supposed to be Wednesday, not whatever bullshit calendar the locals used. It was almost noon - it should be lunchtime. Freshman year had been awful, she almost never got to eat lunch, but first semester of sophomore year had been okay; none of the trio shared comp-sci with her, and the cafeteria was on the other side of the school. Taylor brought a lunch from home, found a place to hide and eat, and hopefully by the time they'd eaten, it'd take too long to find her before the bell rang. She'd get to enjoy whatever stupid sandwich she'd thrown together that morning. Turkey and American probably. Did they even have turkeys here? Was she ever going to have it again? Was she ever going to see -

She realized she was crying, but with her hands bound, she couldn't wipe them away. Her dragon had caught on though, and it took the slightest of mental nudges - not a command, more a request of a friend - for it to lick the tears away while Taylor hardened her heart. If Astarion had noticed, he hadn't said anything, seeming quite busy with the cage door.

Taylor's gaze shifted to her other companion. Shadowheart was busy stripping down the goblin for anything valuable - and something seemed to have caught her eye. She unhooked the amulet's chain from itself, and it slid loose from where it sat over visibly-black veins. The elven lass eyed it curiously and her eyes glowed for a moment. A mechanical click dragged Taylor's attention back to the cage door. It swung open with a creak, and Astarion swept inside before busying himself with the manacles keeping Taylor locked down. He was behind her again, and she couldn't help think of the last time. He'd promised power, protection, just for a taste. And yet where had he been? No, that wasn't fair, it was just part of the plan. They hadn't abandoned her, even if it sure felt like it.

"Are you injured?" he asked quietly. She shook her head. The sudden grab had been tight, but the ogress had manhandled her with surprising care. Likely it had been trained - she, these were people, not beasts - likely she had practiced nonlethal capture methods, for situations like this. For when the cult needed someone alive for information, and it wasn't yet time to hurt them to get it.

As the vampire began working away at the manacles binding her, Taylor's thoughts drifted to a different companion - the singular one she'd never physically met. [I suppose you're happy with this development,] she projected to Nightmare, trying and failing to keep her mental tone from turning bitter.

[Happy? Why would I be happy? You killed her!] Nightmare replied incredulously. The words almost seemed to explode out of him, as if he'd barely kept himself from chewing her out prior to her poking him about it. [Why the hells would you kill her?!]

What- he- [SURVIVAL]

[There's no pleasing you!] Her ire matched his, and she just barely kept the words coming from her mind instead of her tongue. [Kill, don't kill, doesn't matter you're still gonna whine!] she seethed.

[She was tadpoled you ditz! She could've been converted - another ally against the rest of the goblins. Now she's no good to anyone!]

"What-" Taylor cut herself off, almost growling from frustration. She felt Astarion stiffen a moment, but he didn't say anything. Part of her wondered what he was thinking about; another part wondered if she could talk to him about Nightmare or if the mental warden had his hooks too deep in the man for him to be any help. Mostly, though, her thoughts were consumed by righteous fury with the arrogant asshole in her head.

Nightmare pressed on. [The rest of these lot are ensorcelled, but she had to have one put in her brain to keep her complacent. I could've slipped inside, loosened those bonds. I expected you to ask for help, not just start murdering people the second their lives became inconvenient for you!]

[Inconvenient?! She was gonna fucking torture me! I did what I had to do, it's not my fault!]

[She was making noises about torturing you,] he replied dismissively. [But she was going to drag it out - sadists always do that. It would've given me time to work, and we would have another ally against the Absolute.]

[Even if you'd tried it, there's no guarantee who she was before would take our side,] Taylor points out. [Maybe she'd wake up, realize what's happening, think we're screwed, and rat us out anyway. Worst case scenario, she loses your 'protection' and becomes a cultist again? She seemed to be doing just fine for herself, I can't imagine she minded being in charge of everything.]

[You're just assuming she'd betray us for power because she's a goblin.] His meaning was clear, dripping from every word.

Taylor mentally sputtered. [I'm not racist against goblins!] she protested. [I've only known they existed for like a day, and everything I've seen and heard and felt shows they're no good! Wyll's been saying as much every time we kill another patrol - with no pushback from you, I might add!] she shot back.

Nightmare made a mental noise - less speech and more a frustrated groan. [All you had to do was nothing! Just sit there and wait it out while she tried to scare you. Hells, hasn't that been your primary survival skill for over a year now?]

He did not just fucking go there. [There's a difference between mean girl high school antics and actual torture. There's a guy being tortured elsewhere in this temple for information - Gut isn't just talking a big game, she was actually gonna do it. The worst I ever got back home was tripped down the stairs!]

[Oh that was the worst was it?] he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. [Nothing you'd quantify as torture, hmm?]

Taylor started to reply in the affirmative, before she was swallowed up by a feeling. It had only been a few days, but even if it had been a few years she'd still know it instantly: the squishing and sloshing from the refuse piling to her knees, the cold metal pressing her body from every direction, the rotten smell so thick in the stale air she could taste it every time she opened her mouth to scream, the laughter that was the only response to her pleas for egress. The memory of it, the helplessness and squeezing and stench and laughter, engulfed her as surely as a tidal wave.

With a monumental mental effort, she pushed the painful memory away, and Nightmare along with it. An echo of mocking laughter remained for just a moment, and she couldn't tell if it was Emma's or his.

A mechanical click dragged her attention back to reality, and she realized her limbs were freed. Astarion offered her a hand. She resisted at first, but the earlier donation caught up to her, and she almost collapsed before accepting his assistance. A steadying breath and hand, and she was on her own two feet once more. She took a moment to wait for the lightheadedness to subside before exiting, and was glad that she seemed to be able to walk unaided. Absently, her hands reached up to scritch the little dragon, who leaned into her ministrations with a cute trill. A pleasant ditty of contented happiness echoed over the mental bond she shared with the little guy, helping her put the awful memory behind her.

Shadowheart was regarding Taylor. Her stance was casual, her eyes curious, and yet Taylor couldn't help feeling the woman was putting on an act, although she wasn't sure why. "I must admit myself impressed. Somehow, you managed to snag some poison and coat your blade, both times without my noticing. A quick slash on each of them, and they were already dead, just a matter of time. By the time they were done capturing you and grandstanding, it was already too late." Taylor didn't deny it, but she wasn't sure phase spider venom was that potent, given how many bites it took to fell the two foes. She also wasn't sure if the elven woman actually believed that's what happened; if she didn't, this was her offering to keep Taylor's secret. "And given that its even bad to touch, you must have a practiced hand applying poisons. I should know - Lady knows I've nicked myself on more than one occasion and paid the price. You, little miss, are full of surprises."

That had to be it - she had to have seen all the bite marks, knew Taylor had summoned the spiders, and was offering up an alternative story for Taylor's sake. It was clear the both of them were curious what happened, and yet they weren't questioning her about it. Why? "...we should go meet up with the others. You scanned for magic, yeah? Anything interesting in here?" Taylor asked after a moment of contemplation. If neither of them wanted to push her about it right now, that was perfectly fine by her.

"Most of it's junk. The priestess had enchanted her holy symbol and shield, though," Shadowheart replied. "The shield is too obviously hers, but I think we can take the symbol for ourselves. Another little detail for our True Soul disguise," she added as she pulled out the amulet and tossed it to Taylor. She caught it on reflex and glanced at it. Every time she'd seen the symbol painted on rocks or walls or shields, it had been hard to make out, but the silver amulet made it clear what it was meant to be: a skull with a bloody handprint across the face. "Put it on. It'll make you tougher, and nobody can deny you've earned it."

"May I?" Astarion asked, holding out his hand. Taylor handed it over, and he moved behind her once more, securing the necklace chain for her. He was still acting odd - far quieter about things than she was expecting. What was going through his head? Did he think better of her for killing, worse of her being a hypocrite? Was he amused at how she got captured even though her powers were practically designed to detect ambushes coming? Or did that worry her, that something he'd maybe thought dependable was less absolute than desired? Part of her knew she could maybe take a peek - use her new abilities to satisfy her curiosity - but she wasn't going to do that. Maybe not ever, certainly not to allies. It was a violation of trust, exactly the kind of thing she hated Nightmare for doing casually with no remorse.

The necklace thrummed in her mind, its song a soft accompaniment to the grand orchestra she'd come to associate with the Absolute and the tadpoles. At first, she didn't feel any different, but then realized what she needed to do: as she flexed her [AUTHORITY], the amulet raised its voice to sing in harmony with her, and she felt a wave of warmth spread through her body, invigorating her. She felt about as good as she had before being sucked dry. No doubt she'd feel even better once she had time to properly recover.

Her situation wasn't hopeless. She wasn't fragile, she had strong allies, she had powers. Gale knew of other worlds, and the nautiloid had been able to get to Earth Bet. Getting home was possible, she just had to survive long enough to find a way back. "Right. Let's get out of here," she said again, and this time set off out of the room, her gait far more confident and steady than it had been before. The others followed along...and the bugs Taylor had on them told her they shared a glance behind her back.

The three of them managed to return to the group's little hideout without any trouble. Despite Taylor's initial anxiety, it seemed nobody knew of Gut's death but them: whatever Shadowheart had done masked the sounds of combat too well, even for the Zhentarim agents practically hanging around right outside the priestess' chambers. Some silly part of her thought the goblins would be able to see it in the way she walked or something, but nobody seemed to take notice of them as they walked through the throne room.

They got there around the same time as the others, Gale slipping in just before Taylor could. Shadowheart was the last inside, locking the door behind her and, for good measure, repeating her silencing trick from earlier to minimize the chance of eavesdroppers.

Wyll caught Taylor's eye, a question burning in his eyes, and she caught on quick. [It was voluntary,] she sent hastily. [Helped trick Gut...and will help with fighting Karlach and the other leaders,] she added. Once his posture relaxed, she turned to Gale. "How did things go on your end?"

"Positively copacetic," the mage replied with a grin. "The goblinoids keeping the horde hale and hearty were already quite busy putting together a large dinner to celebrate the capture of Ulder Ravengard; the arrival of several new True Souls required some last-minute adjustments to the portions, so they've really got their work cut out for them. I trapped them inside, just in case, but I doubt they'll notice: they've already plenty of ingredients, they won't need to leave until it's time to serve the food, and my ears are still ringing from the cacophony of a goblin kitchen. I doubt a pitched battle the next room over would be audible to them even if we left the doors open."

"Wait a minute," Anders spoke up. "We have three cages filled - worgs, bear, devil. And then the big cattle cage full of giant spiders. Where is the Duke being kept?" he asked, mostly directed at Taylor. "He would be a great ally in the fight to come." Wyll nodded at that.

"The way the cooks were talking, it sounded like he had been shipped off to Moonrise," Durge replied. "There's a path up into the mountains just outside the temple, we passed it on the way in. Likely the goblins took him that way," they added. "Also, if it helps, Dror Ragzlin also seems rather distracted. One of their scouting groups got their hands on an illithid body from the nautiloid, so now they're doing some ritual magic to see if they can interrogate the corpse."

Taylor balked at that initially, but after a moment it kinda made sense. Souls and afterlives were confirmed here; magic allowing you to talk to the dead wasn't that strange, given that premise. "How long will that keep him busy?"

Durge shrugged. "Not sure. If you boil it down to brass tacks, rituals take about ten minutes to do properly. But most traditions that lean heavily on rituals tend to have a lot of pomp and circumstance tied up in it. Him and his were chanting up a storm when we went into the kitchens, and still at it when we left. How did things go on your end?"

Shadowheart took the lead. "We won't have to worry about the Zhentarim. They're not part of the cult, just...opportunistic. Apparently they've got a hideout somewhere nearby, saw all the massing goblins, and decided to see if they could make some easy gold. My guess is, if fighting breaks out, they're going to cut and run rather than facing whoever it is they think just picked a fight with the whole goblin horde. That does mean we lose out on their wares if we're too noisy, but we looked things over; if they had anything really worth buying, they already sold it to the cultists."

"We might be able to make use of some of that, actually," Astarion cut in. "The kitchens are preparing to cater a party, and it seems the Zhents have provided liquor: several crates full of highly-flammable firewine~" he said, grinning. "Oh but that's not all. They've also procured several barrel's worth of smokepowder-" everyone but Taylor sucked in a breath at the same time, "-enough for all the fireworks they could possibly want...or maybe just for blasting a new path through the mountain," he added with a chuckle.

"Are...is..." Wyll started, before collecting his thoughts. His eyes flicked to Taylor. "That's the barrels in the room behind the merchants, then? And all the crates in the next room over?" Taylor nodded.

Trynn let out a low whistle. "A roomful of smokepowder sitting next to a roomful of firewine? Hells, we could just toss in a torch and bring this whole damn place down before they could blink."

"And even if the Zhents skedaddle, they won't be hauling all that with them. Even if it wasn't already sold, it'd be too heavy for them to cart out of here with just three people," Astarion added.

"Skedaddle?" Trynn asked, amused. "How-"

"Enough distractions," Lae'zel interrupted. "What became of Priestess Gut?"

"She's dead, we're not," Taylor replied uncomfortably. Despite her harsh words with Nightmare, it still galled her that she'd taken a life.

The others didn't feel the need to be modest on her behalf, though. "Oh yes, turns out Taylor didn't even need our help handling the goblin witch," Astarion said. "By the time we got in there, Gut and her guard were both stone-cold dead."

Taylor couldn't help but glance at her companions to see their reactions. Lae'zel was skeptical, scornfully so. Durge gave her an encouraging smile. Gale had a look of pity in his eyes that made her a bit angry. And Wyll...

Wyll seemed contemplative. "How did they die?"

"Phase spider venom," Shadowheart replied. "She must have gotten them with her knife a couple times. Shallow cuts, but with good poison it doesn't take much."

"Really." Lae'zel's tone was sharp, almost accusatory. As if she thought the others were just giving Taylor unearned credit.

Taylor suppressed a scowl. Bad enough that she'd had to kill, but killing and still getting viewed as a coward? She thumbed the amulet, flexing her [AUTHORITY] once more, and it glowed in response. "To the victor goes the spoils," she replied, meeting Lae'zel's gaze. The warrior matched her stare for a few moments, until the skepticism softened to something resembling respect. Taylor looked away, satisfied.

"Well," Wyll said, "It's good to hear we can count on you should things turn dire." His words were encouraging, but there was a questioning edge to them. Taylor thought she understood - he knew full well how Gut had actually died, he just wanted to know if she was willing to reveal her ace if they got in a sticky situation. She nodded, and his smile grew more genuine. "Right. Well, we've been discussing Karlach. The goblins outside her cage shouldn't be too much of an issue, but if she's able to keep us distracted, they might be able to raise an alarm with the ones outside - which might get the drow involved. She's strong in body, but we suspect weak of mind. Cyrel has some enchantments she could work that might do the trick, maybe you and Gale have something similar?" he asked.

Gale shook his head. "My methods of incapacitating enemies tend to be physical - slippery patches of ice, rocks pinning people in place, sticky spider webs."

"I was able to get a devil collapsing in fits of laughter on the nautiloid," Taylor replied. "Might be able to repeat that trick here."

Anders nodded. "With the two of you assaulting her mind, that should give the rest of us time to run through the goblins and surround her. Maybe even recruit that druid in the next cell over."

"That may be ill-advised," Lae'zel spoke up. "Durge spoke before that it may be part of a deception - to trick others into thinking her a damsel, should they enter the prison. But the deception may be for the druid's sake. The two of them bond over their chains, and she tricks him into giving up information that might lead the goblins to the grove and the teethlings." Teethlings? Taylor refrained from correcting her - it wasn't important right now.

"That sounds disturbingly plausible," Wyll said, looking deep in thought. "I suppose we'll have to fight her without him, then."

Taylor frowned. That didn't sound right. "Wait..." she says, and the others looked to her. "If she has gotten into his head, and we go in and kill her, it's going to set him against us. He might be able to get these things out of our heads, but we chop her head off or whatever, it'll be the word of his dead prison buddy against us."

"Can't be helped," Durge spoke up. "We could try and convince him, give her enough rope to hang herself by accident. But devils are tricky, and every second she gets to spend talking instead of dying is a second that reinforcements might arrive. Best to end her quickly and deal with the consequences after."

"Especially since the druid's already failed once at extracting a parasite," Shadowheart pointed out. "Even if he trusted us over her, it's no guarantee he could aid us anyway."

Taylor racked her brain. It all sounded reasonable to her ears. The only thing concerning her was the trepidation she felt over the bond with her little dragon. Something about this situation didn't sit quite right with the little guy. "...Wyll. Your necklace." He'd said the spell was quite common. "Would that be enough proof for the druid, you think?"

Wyll stared for a moment, then nodded. "...you know, I think it would be," he replied with a smile. "One less thing to worry about."

"Hate to interrupt, but we should probably get on with it," Astarion interjected. "We ended many goblin lives on our way in. Those were scouting parties, most likely not due back for a few days, but any new patrols will find the bodies before too long. We can't just rest on our laurels, we need to keep moving. It sounds like we have a solid plan of attack on the devil, and a good reason not to hold back. Unless there's any other objections, I say we should just get to it, before any more complications have the chance to show up."

It seemed nobody had any objections, so the group began readying weapons. Taylor, for her part, was satisfied: soon another leader would be out of the picture and never able to cause problems again, and they wouldn't even have to alienate the First Druid to do so. After just a few more moments of preparation, the group set off for the prisons with violent intent.