Still calling all DnD experts for lore and stuff if you want juicer brain meats. I hope to choke you brain-loving piranhas with them.
Hope you enjoy the surprise update.
Would've posted on Patr-e/on dot com /i4md347h but China bans all access to the good stuff. Might go back to my Hunter fics. Cannot do Rebuilding a Ruined world atm because China bans Google docs and Discord, cut off from MSDeus, my Arknights loremaster.
Momonga spent hours reading the books he found in the ruins and inspecting them to further his knowledge.
The Curse of the Vampyr contained poetic studies on Vampirism. He was surprised how nerfed the vampires in this world were, vulnerable to silver and garlic, could not cross running water without harm, and deathly allergic to sunlight.
The other books were strange, one containing some religious nonsense about a Goddess called Shar.
At least the ones he could read; the rest were irrelevant and required extensive special knowledge to knowledge.
The book with the lock was easy to unlock, especially [Greater Dispel Magic]. It was nothing more than a list of what he assumed were names. He did not know any of them, but they looked important enough for him to request an expert on the subject.
He was so immersed in his readings that he was startled when he heard banging on a door.
The crazy explosive fire trap finally exhausted itself, though the black-skinned dwarf corpse was overdone, beyond well-done, charred to hell.
That coffin room was almost charred like the wasteland of Avernus.
Either way, he walked towards the door, the door that he didn't explore.
He jumped when he heard something impact the door on the other side.
Someone was trying to break down the door.
[Greater Haste]
[Magic Ward: Holy]
[Greater Hardening]
[Body of Effulgent Beryl]
Momonga buffed himself just in case.
After reaching the door at the end of the room full of sarcophagi, he grabbed the door handle.
He pulled, finding it locked. He pulled harder.
He ripped the wooden arch door from the hinges, somewhat aware of his ungodly strength despite him being a pure mage.
He needed to test his strength limits when he got the chance, but he was confident he could fight as a warrior to some capacity.
It was reckless when he stabbed that demon back in Avernus with Domiel's Sword. Now that he had thought about it, it was in the heat of the moment.
He ducked under the doorframe and walked outside. He didn't expect to be outside, finding an alternate exit. The sun was glaring, brighter than he expected, as it illuminated the beach in shining, vibrant colors—such rich colors.
He saw an interesting trio as well.
One looked like a humanoid, blue-skinned demon in leather armor, probably a Devil; another looked like a white draconic, probably something else; and the third, judging by her ears, looked like a brunette elf.
They looked like mages, and the elf was more like a Cleric.
The horns on the demoness were ram horns, thick black, lustrous keratin.
"...Greetings." Momonga greeted the trio.
An awkward silence interposed. They did not respond… marveling at him, their eyes exploring him from head to toe.
"What in the name of the Gods are you to achieve this height and width?" The elf brunette asked.
It was the first time a stranger called him out for his height.
"Are you some Orc or Half-dragon abomination? Did your mother mate with a giant or something?" The blue-skinned Demon asked.
That was rude.
"Forgive my companions, but we are easily alarmed at the moment. Our time is short and… excuse me, are you a wizard by any chance?" The white dragon man asked.
"I am a Magic Caster, yes," Momonga nodded.
"Wait, how did a wizard like you rip that door off with your bare hands?" The ram-horned demoness asked.
"...Magic," Momonga bullshitted.
"Tavlana, another time. Please, wizard, do you happen to possess the means to or at least connections to those who could… remove complicated parasites?" Dirge asked.
"So that is your plan. Smart, but it's a gamble, and we're not sure if he is also from the ship or friendly enough to lend a hand."
"Are you from the ship like us?" The demoness asked.
"That thing called a 'Nautiloid?' Are you the crew?" Momonga was curious to see survivors.
"Hah, 'crew,' he said," the half-elf snarked.
"Prisoners that escaped the Mindflayers. But we are in need of a healer, fast," the demoness explained.
"I am sorry, but I need you to explain your story from the beginning."
The word 'Mindflayer' sounded like some kind of creature, intelligent if they could pilot a flying vessel.
"Alright. Let me start. I am Tavlana Stargazer, or Tav for short, a Tiefling Warlock who made a pact with an unsuspecting Great Old One. This is Shadowheart, a half-elf cleric, a refined, classy lady of great taste. The dragonborn is Dirge, a Storm Sorceror."
Momonga listened to her story.
Imagine his surprise that this flying ammonite suddenly appeared over a city called Yartar, the city Tavlana was at, and started abducting many random citizens. He could imagine the shock of the faces seeing a flying vessel for the first time in their lives, tentacles reaching down, knocking down buildings to abduct clueless victims. Even he would get caught off guard by that.
They were held captive in strange pods and…
"Ahhh."
The Mindflayers reminded him of the Braineaters from YGGDRASIL.
"Please, allow me to interrupt. Does a Mindflayer possess Psychic abilities, have a diet for brains, and reproduce by using victims as living incubators?" Momonga inquired.
"Yes." Tav nodded.
"And do they have the heads of octopi?"
"More like squids in this case."
"Oh dear. Normally, all of you should consider yourselves walking corpses. A Braineater hatchling's gestation period is two days."
It explained why two health bars were above each of their heads when he secretly cast [Life Essence].
A Braineater parasite would pop out of its host's skull and devour the rest of the host for nourishment. He wasn't sure what a Mindflayer version would do in this case.
"So you do not have a tadpole like us?" Shadowheart asked.
"Indeed, I did not share your fate. I sympathize with your plight," Momonga nodded.
He could not imagine being in their shoes.
"I will introduce myself. You may call me Momonga… Or Suzuki Satoru. I am a Magic Caster of a… faraway realm."
"A planeshifter? That's rare," Tav commented.
So travelers of other worlds were a thing that was good to know.
"I know some methods to deal with Braineater parasites or parasites. Where I am from, there are potions, techniques, professions, and spells that could remove such parasites."
Momonga was curious. Would the potions from Yggdrasil work in this world?
He dipped his hand into his sleeve, sneakily dipping into his inventory, and pulled out two potion vials. He did not want the natives to be aware of his Item Box, his dimensional inventory, so he tricked them, thinking his robes could store items.
One was sickly green inside the glass, and the other was orange, bigger than the rest.
"We do not have 'Mindflayers,' though your description matches a similar Heteromorphic race I know called Braineaters. One of the potions is a specialized poison meant to kill any head parasites of an amphibian or insectoid nature. The other is a more expensive potion that can cure any status ailment, even the parasitical."
"...I am curious about the poison one. How does it work?" Tav asked.
"Funnily, you drink it through the nose. Or pour it into one of your eyes."
The devs were a stickler for realism for certain types of potions and treatments. They even made a system for Doctor classes based on real-life surgery techniques and protocols.
"And the more expensive potion you said can cure all ailments?" Shadowheart asked.
"You imbibe it normally or splash the contents on your body."
"I find that hard to believe, especially since you didn't ask for anything in return," Shadowheart remarked.
"Call it a scientific curiosity. These should work, and I have more to spare."
Even though such potions do not work on an Overlord.
"...Fuck it. Give me the poison; I'm curious and too desperate to care at this point."
She held out her hand, her palm opened to wait.
Momonga handed her the poison.
"Will I go blind in one eye if I do this? Wait, what's in this poison?" Tavlana asked.
"No need for concern. If you're that worried, I have a healing potion to heal any damage the poison might incur."
"Please avenge me if I die or lose an eye," Tavlana inhaled as she uncorked the vial.
"I'll commission a tombstone in your name. Tavlana Stargazer, death by poison in her eyes," Shadowheart quipped.
Tavlana rolled her eyes as she looked up and held the vial high.
"How much do I have to drip into my eye?" She asked.
"Several drops or more. It depends on the tenacity and nature of the parasite," Momonga answered.
While holding her left eyelids open with one hand, Tavlana poured the contents drip by drip into her left eye.
They watched five consecutive green drops disappear into her black sclera.
Immediately, Tavlana convulsed as she held her eye and screamed in agony.
Her reaction confused Momonga. His confusion escalated when the other two held their heads and fell to their knees.
"What's… happening?! Make it stop!" Dirge roared as he banged his head into the sand.
"I thought you said it would cure us of the parasite!?" Shadowheart yelled.
"The poison is meant to kill and dissolve the parasite. Could it be that it's transmitting its pain to the host and the other carriers?"
This was an unusual reaction. If the specialized poison had this effect, the all-cure potion might kill them all.
Hell, their eyes were crying tears of blood even. Their HP bars were decreasing at the same rate of their secondary HP bar, the parasites were so bonded with them that they were tied to their lives. Only a few parasitic species Momonga knew were capable of that, very high level ones.
He waited for them to recover. Gradually, they calmed down, breathing haggardly from the collective experience.
"Okay… Never going through that again. I'm never trusting a strange wizard's words ever," Tavlana glared at Momonga.
"I give you my word that I did not expect this outcome. It did function as intended. I can tell from the averse reaction that the poison did harm the parasite, but I did not expect it to retaliate like this. The mindflayer parasite must be a stronger breed compared to the Braineaters I know."
He would have to refrain from the stronger potions. These parasites might react differently if they imbibe the all-cure potion.
"Blast. And the other potion?" Shadowheart pointed.
"I suggest to conduct an intensive study of the parasite before we attempt the potion. From what I saw, your nematodes formed a psychic link with each other and caused a chain reaction in retaliation. Braineater nematodes couldn't do that before they mature to the juvenile stage. Any similar potion or spell in this realm will trigger the same result in theory."
"An… astute observation. So this means direct surgical removal is our only option," Dirge grunted, shaking the sand off his head.
There was one surefire option he knew, something only YGGDRASIL Players would abuse to rid of all status ailments - kill the afflicted before resurrecting them. He had Wands of True Resurrection on his person, but not even he would hand them out to strangers he didn't know, those were too valuable to spend carelessly.
He wouldn't try unless he could resupply his stock.
"I've never heard of Mindflayer tadpoles being capable of forming psychic connections so early on, but…" Tav gave her input.
"Best that we trust an expert on the matter instead. We need to keep moving before the tadpoles grows," Shadowheart said.
Momonga pondered on his options.
He owed these people nothing, and they were complete strangers, so he held no obligations to help them.
But he was lost in an unknown world with both Gods and Demons breathing on his neck.
The words of that strange mummy revenant still lingered in his skull… an adventure awaits outside the ruins that would determine his place in this world.
"...I have a proposal."
Momonga decided to use them to get closer to the natives of this world. Playing the part of a helpful Samaritan to gain the natives' trust was the surefire way - the adventurer's way.
Besides, he had never traveled with a group with a critical deadline on their life expectancy. He wanted to see if they could overcome it and bear witness of a legendary miracle.
"As you all know, I am not from this… Plane of existence. I am without direction and am in need of a guide. You three are in need of dire assistance, and your circumstances piqued my interest."
"What are you implying?" Shadowheart asked warily.
"If you would have me, I would like to join your motley group in exchange of guidance and information. I am without direction after all."
"That… is a peculiar reason to want to join our party," Tav admitted.
"What do you think?" Tav asked.
"He is shady and brimming with more suspicious secrets than a Pit Fiend… But do we even have the luxury to object?" Shadowheart pointed out.
"We could use the assistance. Refusal isn't an affordable option," Dirge followed.
"Well, there goes our vote. Welcome aboard. Not sure what you'll get from us, but we'll entertain you as much as we can… be sure to kill us once our time runs out," Tav smiled, her mien joyful to mask their dire reality.
"I… will do that. Although, if it does come to that, I will use the potion as a last resort. This way, you can die knowing there is hope."
Corpses of walking brains, Intellect Devourers, and an unfortunate human casualty laid outside the door of the ruins. Tav and Dirge picked them clean, Tav ripping the cerebellum out of the brain as she just remembered that the cerebellum of an Intellect Devourer was ingredient for a Psychic Resistance potion, a rare ingredient at that, something they could use against the Illithid threat.
Their newest companion was unique, more than Laezel of Cresh K'lir. She was curious since she sensed nary the faintest of a magical presence from this man, less than the average commoner even, absolute zero, like a pebble on the road.
They healed themselves with the healing potion Momonga offered as compensation, a very effective potion that rejuvenated their vitality and rid them of all injuries and fatigue. The potion's effectiveness made them reconsider their assumption that the mage was a quack. There might be something truly wrong with the parasites.
Tav could see the ship through under the stone arch. The effects of the Nautiloid's downfall had corrupted portions of the environment, splotches of pink, flesh-like corruption splattered in random areas, staining the beautiful beach with its taint.
"Ahhh."
They stopped as they gazed upon the fallen titan of the Illithids.
The Nautiloid was a mess.
They could see the interior, fleshy was more concentrated, and they could see through to the other side. The explosion must've been intense.
Round platforms of organic-stone layered with flesh was on the right while a pack of Intellect Devourers were ahead.
"More of those things are ahead," Shadowheart mentioned with disgust and disdain.
"What are those creatures? I've seen similar ones in my realm, but…"
The wizard was curious. He probably didn't question the corpses of the Brain Dogs because he didn't want to distract the others.
"Intellect Devourers. Or Brain Dogs in more common terms. Created by the Mindflayers as their attack dogs… We should sneak onto that second platform and hit them with our spells from the high ground."
Tavlana pointed at the Illithid platform stacked above the first one.
"An intelligent move. What do you think?" Momonga asked.
"A sound plan. I concur," Shadowheart nodded.
"Agreed," Dirge accepted.
They crouched, Tav leading them up the two platforms.
The Brain Dogs were clueless, wandering aimlessly without their Illithid masters.
After climbing two platforms, they crouched near the ledge. They could see Illithid corpses on the other platforms, lifeless and still.
"Get ready."
Dirge and Shadowheart nodded. Momonga stood out with his height and dark colors in this bright environment, but he managed not to alert them.
[Magic Missile]
[Guiding Bolt]
[Eldritch Blast]
[Magic Arrow]
Four Brain Dogs, four spells.
Guiding Bolt burned one, Eldritch Blast launched the second, Magic Missile barragkng the third into a battered mess, the fourth…
The fourth was eviscerated into shreds by a barrage of magical bolts.
The three turned to Momonga.
"...What?"
"...I've never asked, but are you an archmage or something?" Tavlana asked.
"Oh no, you are too kind. [Magic Arrow] is a beginner spell. Calling me an archmage, I do not deserve the title."
Tavlana had never heard of a wizard be this destructive with a first level spell, other than the fabled Elminster and the other Chosen or Mystra.
"Well, I am glad that some luck fell in our way. Oh, we're looking for a companion of ours."
"Must we include her? She is the epitome of inhospitability," Shadowheart asked with a face or displeasure.
"Come on, she is also a capable fighter and knows more about the 'Ghaik' than us."
"True," Dirge nodded. "There is no harm in reuniting with her."
"Is Ghaik another word for 'Mindflayer?'" Momonga asked.
"Yes. The other terms for Mindflayers are 'Illithid' and 'Ghaik.' I suggest we split up. Momonga, since you are a capable wizard, we need you to look for our companion or other survivors that are in our situation," Tavlana requested.
"Oh, splitting up already? Well, I suppose there's no harm in it. I will go on ahead while you head to the right. Is that alright?"
"Very well. As for how we'll meet up, I don't suppose you have an item or spell…" Tavlana suggested.
"Ah, yes."
The wizard pulled something out of his sleeve. She never heard of clothes that could act as a Bag of Holding.
"This ring will enhance the wearer's magical power. This ring will grant minor fire damage to your attacks, weapon or spells. And for our cleric friend, this ring will enhance your healing spells."
Momonga offered them three rings of exquisite make.
The first looked almost demonic, red metal base with an emblem of a demonic hand. The second was a golden ring with a flaming sigil. The third was a gentle sun-yellow ring with a pair of angelic wings.
Tavlana and her companions received the rings and inspected them.
Tavlana, Shadowheart, and Dirge made brief eye contact before they weaved their magics to detect any signs of a curse
All they sensed was a Magic foreign to the Weave.
"What is this…" Dirge muttered.
He was the first to put on his fire ring. He felt a warm energy coursing through him, nothing harmful hidden behind the gift.
To test the function, he used [Shocking Grasp], crackling blue sparking his right hand and fiery orange blazing with the electricity.
To test the ring, he took off the ring, finding no curse of binding.
Shadowheart and Tavlana put on their rings after finding nothing wrong.
"I will use these rings to locate you once I am finished. I'll find you after I explored the entire area. Ah, what does your companion look like?"
"A toad-like elf in silver armor. Female. With a demanding personality that you will find unlikable. Can't miss her."
Tavlana stared at Shadowheart, the cleric had a smug expression.
"I see… Good luck out there, Tavlana."
They watched the enigmatic wizard walk off the platform, slowly levitating to the stone-flesh ground.
Once he walked far enough, Tav whispered to the others.
"What do you think about him?" Tav was more curious about this man, sensing a level of danger about him.
"He's as dangerous as he looks. Possibly more so," Dirge answered.
"Should we trust him?" Shadowheart asked.
"He's powerful. I don't know why he is helping us, but the best we can do is take his help. His strange potions are a mysterious, and he is a walking Bag of Holding. In other words, resourceful…" Tavlana rubbed her chin.
"...You think he's holding out on us?" Shadowheart assumed.
"If so, we can't do anything about it. We don't have the right to make unreasonable demands. Besides, I don't think he's lying when he gave us the vials. You all felt it. The parasite was hurting enough to take us with it."
Tavlana took out the anti-parasite poison vial. Momonga allowed her to keep soke potions as compensation in case she needed it. And she needed them more than he did, he said.
"You're right… so we keep going as we are?" Shadowheart asked.
"Yeah. Let's move. Hopefully, we'll find a doctor that can help us."
From what he heard, Momonga's level wasn't common in this world.
The level of an Archmage, hah, Momonga couldn't be less qualified as a mage than a kid in magic school. He was skilled in using spells and rituals, but knowing how it works and the theories behind his magic? As if he could explain how he could cast Tier Magic, it was something made in the game called Yggdrasil! The spells just come to him naturally, as natural as breaking or moving his bones.
He should hire a mage that wouldn't ask questions and have him reverse engineer Yggdrasil Magic for him. Either he kill the hired mage to protect his secrets or manipulate his memory with [Control Amnesia]. Thinking about it, he should perform some experiments with that spell.
Wait, there was Magic that allowed someone to speak with the dead. He should properly dispose of the bodies from now on or make sure that the spell [Speak with Dead] wouldn't work on his victims.
As for his makeshift companions, they seem to suspect him. Nothing for him to worry, he wanted to head into this direction anyways.
His racial traits that allowed him to detect undead sensed a unliving presence ahead.
He was outside the Nautiloid's remains.
Climbing the uneven twisting slopes on the beige paved path, he saw the undead.
He looked as pale as a bloodless corpse.
He had short silver-white curly hair. From behind, Momonga saw what looked like noble attire, predominantly dark blue in color with a cut of purple around his neck and gilded gold vertically lining the dark blue in a constellation pattern.
"Hurry, I…"
His voice sounded refined with a deep high-pitched accent tuned with practice.
He stopped when he glanced at Momonga as he walked closer.
"Oh… you're… quite taller than I expected, um, tall, dark and… I assume you are quite handsome behind the mask?" The pale elf undead quickly changed his tune when Momonga towered over him.
"Hahaha. Well, this is a surprise. I didn't think that the parasite would settle for undead as well."
"What? You…"
The pale elf stepped back out of shock.
"You-you know what I am?" The pale elf asked.
"Not yet… bright red eyes like the book said, long canines. Yet… Are you a vampire?" Momonga asked.
According to the book, this elf should be cooked to ashes under the sun.
"I… Did Cazador send you?"
The pale elf vampire raised his dagger in a reverse grip.
"At ease. I am a planeshifter, not from this realm. Nor am I under the employ of this Cazador you speak of," Momonga raised his hand to calm the vampire.
"I will not harm you if you do not harm me. You're quite fascinating, your appearance match the description of a Vampire, but you're unaffected by the sun somehow… So what are you?"
"What will you do if I answer?" The undead questioned.
"You seem to be on edge from recent events. I do not blame you since you were abducted into a 'Mindflayer' hive nest. Why not calm down and let us introduce ourselves in a civilized manner and make our acquaintances before you jump to hasty conclusions?"
The pale elf stared at him for a moment. He inhaled and lowered his dagger as he exhaled.
"Allow me to start. My alias is Momonga, a planeshifter that accidentally ended up in this realm. I happened upon the Nautiloid by chance and encountered a group of victims hosting Mindflayer parasites, like you. I am accompanying them on a quest to search for a way to remove the parasites from their skulls."
Momonga humbly bowed before the undead.
"...Astarion. Astarion Ancunín… Vampire spawn of Baldur's Gate."
Astarion responded, though he seemed guarded.
"So you are a vampire… I assume the reason behind your immunity to sunlight is because of the parasite?" Momonga took a wild guess to Astarion's condition.
"An accurate assumption. Trust me, I am enjoying the moment, or I would've enjoyed the moment if not for the fact that the reason I can be under the sun is because of a blasted worm shoved through my eyeball, turning me into a ticking time bomb in the process."
Astarion relaxed as he vented his woes.
"I didn't think a parasite could do that. Is this common with Mindflayer parasites and vampires?"
"No, it's not! Believe me, if any vampire could've known, Vampires from all over Faerun would be raiding Mindflayer colonies in the Underdark by now. Hah… So what now? Are you going to… Well…"
"Relax. I will not harm you despite your true nature," Momonga chuckled. "I am rather curious about your kind. The vampires I know can live under the sun. Without the nematode."
"Wait, really? The vampires of your realm are free from the bloody sun? I… Damn. Are you a wizard or some kind of necromancer, because you look like a very successful one if I'm gonna be honest. Or a Warlock."
"Necromancer," Momonga admitted. "What are the necromancers of this realm like, by the way?"
"Why, are yours different? Treated like a blight to the public, not a lot of good reputation going for them. But we're going off track, so now that you know what I am… Well…"
"In truth, I do not care about your nature assuming that you are cooperative. I am gathering friendly survivors to bolster my companions' chances in finding a way to remove the parasite. You seem to fit the criteria, but I need you to answer some questions."
"Are you? Well… Will you hide the fact that I am a vampire from them if I tag along?"
"Do you need blood to 'live?' How much blood do you need to live?"
Momonga was curious as Vampires of Yggdrasil only need blood to buff themselves, not for sustenance.
"Well, I need blood to stave off the hunger or I'll go mad and… be not myself. I mean I can make do with animal blood, but I prefer the fresh blood of the sapient, if you know what I mean."
"Can you control yourself in your 'feedings?'"
Momonga read about the animalistic nature of the Vampires in the book.
"Well, I've lived for more than a century. I know a bit or two about self-control."
So he was manageable.
"Very well. I will not tell them about your nature unless we're sure they don't mind a vampire in their midst."
"Does that mean I can join your motley group of survivors?" Astarion asked.
Momonga chuckled and nodded.
The party would soon acquire a vampire, one without the racial weaknesses. This excited Momonga as the possibility of eliminating his racial weaknesses existed, something he would pursue… though probably at great cost.
But thinking about it, the ones that would suffer most would be the undead he captured or his summons. He should plan a deal with the Demons for forbidden knowledge… since the Demons like souls, he should collect some from the Tanar'ri. He had some items he was sure Zariel would pay a hefty sum for, assuming that she didn't have something similar.
However, before they could continue the conversation, a wild boar jumped from the green foliage, prancing away from them.
Momonga stared at the animal before he silently cast [Paralysis].
It swiftly became a ragdoll, unable to squeal as it laid on the dirt, now helpless meat prepared for the slaughter.
"My companions would warm up to your reception if you could… Prepare the catch of the day for them, perhaps?"
"Oh, my. To offer such a juicy gift, I would never… I think we're going to get along nicely… though I do hope you don't expect me to lug all that meat around."
"Oh no, I wouldn't dare. That burden belongs to me. I believe it would be wise for us to find a good camping spot once we're done. Despite their best efforts, I doubt they could traverse continents in a day."
Astarion smiled.
"Then… don't mind if I do."
Astarion approached the boar, his fangs glistening with saliva, wet for blood.
When Dirge, in a chance encounter with a surviving illithid while scavenging for resources, crushed that Mindflayer under his heel, the helpless thing that had eyes radiating malice, something stirred inside him, a biting headache that he found out was different from the migraines he received from the parasite in his head.
He had lost his memories, something he divulged to his companions, not the strange wizard that could produce expensive magical items from his sleeves. He couldn't fathom why a mage of such resources would bother to travel with them despite his explanations, but they needed someone with resources to help them.
They needed everything they could get.
However, the way he snuffed its life felt… too habitual, too natural for him. A strange sense of pleasure different from the kills he made in the heat of battle came from this act, something he could not describe, an unnatural feeling wormed in his blood.
Then a strange encounter stirred him from his thoughts.
"Can someone give me a hand? Please?"
There was a hand sticking out a lavender portal.
At the fork of the sunlit road, they encountered an unstable portal with a hand sticking out of the purple vortex of spatial magic. It originated from the purple warp sigil drawn on the grey rock.
"...Give him a 'hand,' Dirge," Tavlana whispered.
He understood her intentions. Why not?
He gave that hand a handslap.
"...A helping hand, please?"
The women giggled.
"Alright, let's see… I think we can stabilize the portal to lessen the resistance… or we can yank him out the old fashioned way," Tav laid out their options.
Dirge felt a strange dark urge swelling up in him as a memory flashed in his mind, the chopping of the wrist with a sharp knife, the scent of blood and the screams that could not reach anyone in confined walls…
The same hand was offering itself to be pruned by a blade… One that he was lacking at the moment.
"Dirge?"
Tavlana's voice snapped him from his stunned moment.
"Yes." He grabbed the hand, wanting to get away from these thoughts as he pulled, pulling the weight of a full grown man, pulling against the magical forces keeping the man trapped until he yanked the man from his predicament.
The man unceremoniously landed on his feet.
"Ohhh… sorry. Usually better at this. Hello. I'm Gale of Waterdeep."
Gale shook Dirge's hand.
Windswept brown hair, brown eyes, light, and a meticulously trimmed beard, the man wore a blue-purple robe, a wizard perhaps.
He was not as awe-inspiring as the other wizard, much more average, no offense.
He sounded like a groomed gentleman, a man of culture and elegance with a tinge of gentle eloquence and confidence.
"Hello to you too. Care to explain what you're doing in that portal?" Tavlana asked.
"A good question. I don't know what happened exactly, but the ship broke into pieces and I foind myself in freefall. As I was plummeting to certain death, I spied a glimmer. Quite near where my body would impact with less than savory propulsion. Recognizing this glimmer to be magical in nature, I… reached to it with weaving of words and I found myself on the other side. Everwhere… How about you? How did you all survive the fall?"
Tavlana was surprised that someone was quick-witted enough to use an emergency teleport to survive the fall like that.
"We don't know," Dirge answered.
"If you're a survivor, then I believe you also have an unsavory, invasive guest shoved through your eye?" Shadowheart assumed.
"Quite right, I'm afraid. I don't have to assume that you also share my dire problem, should I?"
The trio nodded.
"This insertee of our? Are you aware that after an excruciating amount of time, it would turn us into Mindflayers? It's a process known as ceremorphosis, and let me assure you - it is to be avoided."
His face was stern when explaining what they already knew.
"Speaking of which, is any of you a Cleric by any chance? A doctor? A surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?"
The man's hand made a gesture of sewing something for emphasis while he maintained that smile.
"I am afraid to disappoint you on that. We are searching for the same thing," Dirge simply answered.
"You seem to be aware of our condition enough to know that is beyond most Cleric's skills," Shadowheart pointed out.
"I am aware. I was hoping to be in the presence of the few."
"If you want to meet someone that claims to possess a cure, you would have to wait. He did try to rid ourselves of the parasite, but suggested we find an expert. And you seem to be an expert on Minndflayers," Tavlana mentioned.
"Oh? And who might this rare healer you speak of, might I ask?" Gale asked.
"You… it is better if you see him for yourself. He gave us a couple of vials he claimed could rid us of the parasites. But he suggested that we find an expert since we found out that if we try to harm the parasites… they will take down the hosts with them."
"Well, I can say that my knowledge on Illithids rivals an expert's opinion, and let me tell you what you said is not standard Mindflayer behavior. There are indeed cases of Clerics capable of removing Mindflayers magically as well as Doctors capable of replicating the feat physically. How did this one tried to rid you of your tadpole?" Gale asked.
Tavlana handed Gale the poison.
"That is curious. No offense, it looked like a blatant scandal. You are definitely hoodwinked."
"It worked in a way… it did harm the parasite," Tavlana countered.
"Really? Let me see that."
Grabbing the vial, he weaved his free hand around it.
"Oh. The contents are rich in concentrated raw magic… I've never seen a potion like this before. Completely foreign to the Weave, I must say, yet strangely compatible with it as well… Do you mind if I borrow it for a more cursory investigation?"
"Go ahead. Can't use it anyways," Tavlana shrugged.
"How did you use it? Did you drink it like any other potion?"
"I dripped it into my eye."
"Ahhh, revolutionary. Very extraordinary, I must say. I want to meet this person with utmost haste. Where is this person you speak of?"
"We're currently separated. He's out there finding more survivors as we speak. He'll return to us once he's done," Tavlana answered.
"Ah. A fair choice. With his return, our chances of survival would improve."
And they got another wizard in their party just like that.
It didn't take long for them to find Laezel.
Tavlana almost laughed at the sight of the Githyanki trapped in a brown cage pyramid of crudely chopped logs held together by rope dangling in the air.
Two tieflings were arguing, the man calling Laezel 'yellow as a toad, twice as ugly.'
She still kept that flaming greatsword she looted from that Devil in Avernus.
However, she felt a white hot stare pounding against her skull, through the parasite, a sudden connection that made her recoil.
[Get rid of them.]
Laezel demanded via tadpole.
"Excuse me, is there a settlement nearby with a healer by any chance?" Tavlana called out.
"Oh, a guest. You come at a bad time, friend. Are you also from Elturel?" the male spoke first.
"Yartar. Now, please, my question?" She reminded him.
"Head northwest to look for a grove run by druids. After that, you can find a healer called Nettie," The female answered.
"Thanks. What are you two doing bickering over this yellow toad?" Tavlana asked, pointing at Laezel.
She smiled at the sight of Laezel's deepened scowl.
"We found her like this. Fell in one of the goblin's traps. We're figuring out what to do with her. One of her kind killed Zoru's friend, sword rammed through the gullet."
Ah, how violent.
"Leave her to us to take care of her. I don't think it is a good idea to kill her. I saw several of them riding on Red Dragons last night. If they found out that you killed one of their own…"
The tieflings glanced at each other.
"Red Dragons… You're right. It's too dangerous. If you're heading off, be careful. There are goblin traps everywhere," the female kindly warned them as they left.
Tavlana wryly smirked at Laezel once they were alone.
"Quit gawking. Get me down from here."
"Say pretty please."
"Never."
Good enough.
Tavlana fired [Eldritch Blast] at the base of the cage, collapsing the crude floor of the cage as Laezel landed.
"It seems that the parasite didn't scramble all of your senses. How auspicious."
"Oh, they're still in one piece. A lot has happened since we were separated," Tavlana responded.
"Indeed. And who is this ishtik?" Laezel glanced at Gale.
"Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep at your leisure. I haven't seen one of your kind for quite a while. A very peculiar time we're in for all of us to share the same cranial dilemma."
"I see. My people possess a cure for this infection. I must head to the nearest creche at once. You will join me."
"...What is a 'creche?'" Dirge asked.
"It is many things. A hatchery, a training grounds, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear. When infected with a Ghaik tadpole, we must report to a ghustil for purification."
"Quick question. How exactly does your 'ghustil' remove the Ghaik tadpoles?" Tavlana asked.
"They will bring us to the Zaith'isk. A device forged from plundered Illithid technology. Vlaakith's purity, distilled. Our only salvation."
Laezel spoke reverely with a hint of fanaticsm.
"...What are the success rates of this device?" Tavlana asked.
"You dare question Vlaakith's design?" Laezel accused.
"I do not worship Vlaakith, apologies, I did not intend to slander your culture. I am speaking as an outsider uninformed of your complex society," Tavlana explained.
"Hmmm. Apologies accepted. For now. To answer your question, it is undoubtedly flawless in function. Crafted to combat the Ghaik's Grand Design by preventing their numbers from spreading from our ranks."
"Anyone you know that used the Zaith'isk and survived, historically even?" Tavlana asked to be sure, considering the experience she and her companions went through with the previous surefire cure.
"Of…"
Laezel paused.
"Laezel?" Tavlana asked, not liking Laezel's uncomfortable absence of an answer.
"...Is something the matter?" Shadowheart asked with slight concern.
"...You don't know anyone that used the Zaith'isk, do you?" Tavlana asked.
This brought some concern about Laezel's people. Tavlana had heard stories about sacrifices bred and groomed in demonic and evil cults; some swindled into malicious religions that would end up with the believer offered at the altar.
"Tchk. It doesn't matter. I have faith that Vlaakith's design will save us."
"I understand your faith as a Cleric, but there are some things that should be called to question," Shadowheart advised, which was rare despite the friction between the two.
"Enough of this. Are we moving or not?" Laezel snapped.
"We need to find the nearest shelter and see if we can stock up for the journey. As much as you loathe to hear it, none of us are in good condition to travel long distances without camping for the night," Tavlana laid the facts in front of the stubborn warrior.
"I concur. Our priorities should be our essentials, and we should understand our environment and situation," Dirge followed.
"Agreed. Our situation might be clouded with lethal uncertainties, but a mad sprint without any regard for personal health is a fool's path," Gale nodded.
"Tchk… Fine. Let us make haste. Lead the way."
Laezel wore that seemingly perpetual frown throughout their trek, climbing the hill slope, passing the beautiful natural flora from ferns to trees.
The Grove was closer than Tavlana thought.
After several turns and up the hill, they stood high on the rocky edge with a wide vantage point overlooking the field. Upon closer inspection, they saw a fortification, a gate heavily decorated in vines.
There was shouting up ahead.
Three humans in green gambisons were shouting at a Tiefling guarding the rampart atop the gate.
"Open the bloody gates!" The young human with dark skin and dark curly hair yelled.
"Nobody gets in! Zevlor's orders!" A tiefling shouted.
"That pack of goblins will be on us any second!" The human shouted.
A red, old Tiefling, drawn by the commotion, appeared on the ramparts.
"What's going on?" The man asked.
"Goblins are at our tail! Open the gates, Zevlor, now!"
The three were panicking. Looking at them, Dirge could see arrows stuck in the wooden round shield held by one of the man's companions.
"You led goblins here! Where is the druid?!" Zevlor shouted at the man, his gaze darting in search of the missing fourth member of their party.
The man grunted, grabbed the arrow stuck in his companion's shield, and yanked it out, holding it up to Zevlor to show that the situation was dire.
"Please! There's no time!"
A bestial howl resounded, deep and guttural.
A Worg made its presence known, larger than a wolf with an intelligent gleam in its eyes. Grey-brown fur covered almost half of its body, mostly around its back area, the rest, belly, snout-face, legs, were pink skin, giving the creature a almost rat-like quality.
"By the Nine Hells…" Zevlor was aghast at the sight. "Open the gates!"
He and the yellow-skinned tiefling pulled the wooden winch; the pulley lifted the wooden gate with each stressful turn.
However, goblins arrived.
Goblins in hooded rags wielding wooden bows, goblins with rusted scimitars of bone cakes in dry blood, and a goblin shaman wielding a staff tipped with a skull and a rib cage beneath spread like bony wings.
The archers immediately pulled their taut strings and let loose the arrows, pelting the wooden ramparts while sniping the tieflings.
Then they fired again. The two arrows dug into the yellow tiefling's chest, blood already staining his shirt red.
"Kanon! No!"
"Get ready," Tavlana channeled Magic into her palm.
Dirge and Gale readied their quarterstaffs, Laezel pulled out her flaming greatsword, which burned with hellfire, and Shadowheart readied her mace and shield.
Two archers near the gates pulled their bowstrings, but one was shot down by magic, dead on impact.
"Damnable roaches. Provoke the blade!"
A fencer of dark-black skin, braided black hair, and a pencil beard hopped down from the rampart to stone to stone, landing before the other archer.
The goblin of sickly yellow skin waved his bone scimitar at him, but the fencer knocked the scimitar off his hand with contemptible ease.
With a skilled thrust, the fencer Warlock pierced the goblin's center and stepped forward, pushing in hilt-deep before he pirouetted around his kill, pointing his rapier at the rest of the goblinoid pack.
"And suffer its sting."
One goblin, larger and more robust than the other, shouted.
"Scouts - get to the high ground. Raiders - charge the bastards!"
Skulls were attached to thick platings over his chain armor. This one, the pack leader, had a great axe and a serrated curved blade.
"Laezel, go down and show them what you're made of! Dirge, Shadowheart, back her up! Gale, time to show us what you got!"
"With pleasure."
Gale and Tav fired [Magic Missile] and [Eldritch Blast] at the two approaching goblin archers, the goblins surprised to see their high ground already occupied and died before they could react.
Laezel growled as she jumped from the hill towards the bugbear, the furry long-eared goblinoid in primitive armor.
"Have at thee!" Laezel's flaming sword cleaved the bugbear from the shoulder to his center, the bugbear didn't know what hit it as the flaming sword set him on fire, choking on his own blood as Laezel yanked the sword and charged at a word.
"What is this?!"
The three human adventurers were surprised to see unexpected reinforcements.
"We have the numbers now! Go forward!"
It was a bloody battle with the goblinoid pack at a disadvantage.
The tieflings at the rampart strung their bows and fired arrows, pelting or pressuring the goblins.
Dirge threw a [Lightning Lure] at the goblin shaman and yanked, the shaman screaming under shock and flame as he flew towards Laezel.
"Hyah!" Laezel rammed the flaming sword through the goblin.
The worgs ran towards the fencing Warlock, but [Magic Missile] fire pelted the hounds as the humans charged.
"You have a lot of nerve, mucking up my fun!" The Leader roared as he charged towards Dirge with a battle cry.
[Hex]
However, dark energies pierced him, a curse.
A bolt of Tavlana's [Eldritch Spear] followed, striking a gaping hole into the goblin through the armor, sending him into a painful stagger.
[Guiding Bolt]
Shadowheart followed; a radiant bolt hit the goblin next, knocking him to his feet.
Putting away the quarterstaff, Dirge ignited his hands with crackling electricity as he charged towards the downed Goblin and mounted him, his hands choking the goblin.
Twin [Shocking Grasps] flared with crackling life, roasting the goblin as Dirge smirked. He reveled in the strangled, gurgling cries as he felt the creature's resistance dying away.
Once the goblin was stilled, a cooked smell rising from the filthy thing, Dirge let go of the creature, the rush of the murder… subsiding.
The way its life was fading, the eyes losing color...
He noticed something was going on.
What was wrong with him?
He perked upon hearing Laezel's battle cry as she rushed to the nearest Worg. Her blade rammed through its side, and she tackled it down on its side.
The humans rushed as they ganged up on the downed Worg, beating down on its face until it cried its last whimper.
The fencer took down the last sprinting worg, rapier through its throat, the fencer ducking under and followed with an upper thrust.
It thrashed its front paws helplessly as they slowed, then stilled, crimson trickling the thin, sharp metal before the fencer pulled out, letting the corpse thud the dirt.
"That was the last of them. Inside, all of you! More may follow!"
Zevlor shouted after briefly inspecting the battlefield.
Immediately, the tieflings atop the gate started pulling the wheel, the gate rising.
The battle had ended, and there was a life for the tieflings to mourn.
"What is Baldur's Gate like?"
Momonga had just passed by the fortification, and many dead things, ugly little goblins, and a few other creatures unfamiliar to him, were staining the place with blood.
Momonga dropped the exsanguinated boar onto a good campsite location on the shore near the waters, freezing the corpse with [Iceball] before they returned to exploring the area.
"Well, not sure how to describe it, er, peaceful but not without a bloody history. Quite a few legends, of course. Oh, have you heard of the Bhaalspawn?"
Astarion followed Momonga as they traveled the road.
Momonga did not plan to reunite with his companions yet. He wanted to converse with Astarion and get more information from the Vampire spawn.
"Tell me about the Bhaalspawn. What is a Bhaalspawn?"
"Oh, it's a long story. Not even I know the full story, but it all started when the God of Murder, Bhaal, sired six children. One of them Sarevok was on a bloody warpath, he initiated a campaign to kill his siblings. He killed all but one of them and died at the hands of that one. Quite the drama and rage, I tell you. One of Cazador's rivals got killed by a Bhaalspawn."
"Is Cazador the one that turned you?" Momonga asked.
"Ah… Well, no use in hiding it. He is the Vampire Lord of Baldur's Gate. Yes, my 'sire'..."
"He has control over you," Momonga concluded.
This wasn't an assumption. It was a fact; he could tell from Astarion's tone.
"...Yes. He did. Not anymore, though."
"The parasite?" Momonga guessed.
"No matter the distance, Cazador's hold over me was… absolute. I always felt him in the corner of my mind, pulling the leash… But now? The worm has evicted his control…"
"At a terrible price. You plan on taking this chance to kill him."
"If I return to Baldur's Gate but… As you said, I have a short unlife expectancy. Ahhhh. What do I do? I want to keep the parasite so I can see the look on his face when I skewer him with my knife, but if I keep it too long, hello, tentacles… Say, there's something I want to ask you… are you alive?"
Momonga stopped in his tracks.
"I don't smell a whiff of blood from you, and I don't hear a pulse…"
"Ah, everything you see on my person is priceless, magical items I forged with all my heart and soul."
Momonga was prepared for the case someone asked about him.
"A few of them mask my scent, my abilities. One can even trick Undead creatures into thinking I'm one of them."
"Are you joking? I thought everything on you was just for show!"
Astarion gestured to Momonga's entire collage of magical items.
"Alright, then… why not take off the mask? I am curious to see your handsome features."
"I didn't think you swung in that direction," Momonga never expected to encounter an Undead with such… sexual freedom.
"Oh, please, darling. I've lived a long time. Come on, I'm dying to find out."
Momonga wondered what kind of excuse he should make. Should he trust this man with his secret? He was also Undead… Hmmm.
"Wait… There are people up ahead."
Momonga immediately cast [Life Essence] and [Mana Essence]. Astarion rested his hand on his dagger as they approached them.
Three humans on the grassy road, the serenity of their surroundings, contradicted the direness of their situation.
Two humans were tending to a wounded third… wait, the third man was dwarf-like.
The man with a balding head had a long blue tunic, long enough to be considered a dress, studded with pearl-like decorations. He had a greatsword strapped to his back.
The young woman had short, chestnut-red hair, was wearing a green gambison, and had a mace on her back.
The poor fellow bleeding on the floor had white-gray hair brushed back with two loose braids and a full beard of the same color. He wore a black, quilted tunic over an embroidered green shirt and green pants, with leather boots.
On his neck was a necklace, which caught Momonga's attention.
The necklace was a skull with a triangle. One side of the triangle spit-roasted the skull, and a blood-red handprint was stamped on the skull.
"The one on the ground has a parasite…" Momonga whispered to Astarion.
"Oh? How could you tell?" Astarion asked.
"A trick using a simple spell. Let's find out if they're friendly. Greetings!"
He called out as he took out a minor healing potion, which should have been enough to heal the poor man.
"You! Not a step closer!" The young woman shouted, raising at a hand at Momonga to stop him.
Momonga forgot that he was abnormal; his appearance defied the norm, even in disguise. The two were intimidated, taken back by his size and mask.
"I have a potion that can save him. If you allow me, I can save his life."
The two looked at each other as Momonga presented the red potion bottle.
"Brynna, we don't have a choice. Edowin's dying!"
The woman, Brynna, glanced at Momonga.
"But… Look at him… Alright. But I swear if you do anything-"
Momonga didn't listen and uncorked the bottle, splashing the injured man with red liquid.
The bearded man's groans lessened, becoming grunts as new vitality stirred.
"Edowin?"
Edowin slowly rose to his feet.
"I… I feel… I feel better."
Relief and joy appeared on their faces.
"Oh thank you, stranger!"
"Thank you!"
The two hugged the stout man.
"Easy there." Momonga tossed the empty bottle away.
"The potion may have healed your injuries, but you need rest."
"Ah. In the name of the Absolute, I thank you for your benevolence, especially from someone as tall and dressed as you… ah. My mistake. True Soul, how did you manage to get this man to be your follower?"
"Hm?"
Edowin was looking at Astarion.
Astarion looked left and right before he pointed at himself.
"Wait, you're talking to me?" Astarion asked.
"Yes? Is there something the matter?" Edowin asked back.
Momonga acted quickly.
"Yes, forgive… Master Astarion. He is… new and a bit slow on the uptake. His superior, oh, a lazy bastard. He threw him on his first mission without properly initiating him! We're quite uninformed in a manner of speaking."
Astarion looked at Momonga with a face screaming, 'What the fuck are you doing.'
"That is… it is not right to slander the Chosen of the Absolute. But you saved my life. I may be unworthy of the role, but I suppose I can help you understand your purpose, True Soul."
"What are you doing here? How did you end up at Death's door?" Momonga asked.
Astarion 'oh'ed, understanding Momonga's intent - questioning the strangers.
"Ah, the Absolute has ordered us to retrieve an artifact from the crash site. And to look for survivors and bring them in for questioning. Unfortunately, we have encountered an owlbear during our search, haha, which led to our embarrassing encounter."
Astarion and Momonga stared at the dwarf creature.
"...What does this… Artifact look like?"
"Uhhh. A rough description, uh, a polyhedron made of black iron with each side inscribed with a rune. Ah. Have you seen any survivors?"
"...No, no we didn't," Momonga turned his head at Astarion. Astarion rolled his eyes towards what he assumed was his knife or the way back - to kill or retreat.
Momonga had another idea for them.
"What do you plan to do with the survivors?"
"Our orders are to capture them and bring them to the Absolute, my friends."
Astarion was glaring at Momonga, leering at his skull.
"Er, tell me. What is the difference between a True Soul and a Non-True Soul, what makes a True Soul? I am speaking out of curiosity and a desire to become one, please."
"Ahhh. To be a True Soul, an initiate has to be deemed worthy to stand before the Absolute at Moonrise Towers."
"...Is it related to… Errr, our psychic connection?" Astarion asked.
"Indeed. We can sense each other through a special bond only those blessed by the goddess share."
Momonga was curious.
"How long has it been since you were 'blessed?'"
"Well, uh. My memory is a bit foggy, but several weeks maybe?"
Momonga heard some good news.
"My fellow… Absolutists. We are preparing a campsite for the night. Recently, my companion has captured and perfectly drained the blood of a wild boar for a feast. Perhaps we can prepare the search for tomorrow? You three must be very tired from your journey."
Momonga glanced at Astarion. Astarion smiled, knowing Momonga's intention.
"Ah, that's wonderful! We couldn't owe you two enough for your hospitality, and you saved my life! We want to join you if you don't mind us burdens!"
"We also have companions on the search. Please, right this way. I must spread the good news to my companions while you rest."
And prepare an ambush.