Promoting Spawns - Chapter 8 - Lorealie (2024)

Chapter Text

Shadowheart had been doing a minor task for the Mother Superior, observing the residence of one of the most prominent Harpers in the city. Normally this was done through younger initiates, ones still small enough to take advantage of the way the old woman hoarded orphans like cats.

To be honest, it was a “job” that was more than a little desirable. Especially when her half-orc son was in charge of cooking. He could almost make mushrooms tolerable, so when he’d leave out his druidic mycelia he was easily one of the best cooks she’d have the chance to enjoy.

Mother was never particularly keen on how these observations panned out, but as long as the old crow kept her reasons to herself it wasn’t like joining them for dinner was proof the “spy” failed.

Shadowheart did have some suspicions, on a good day, that this wasn’t a one sided affair either. The High Harper would have her own questions about how the “newcomers” lived on occasion. It felt almost like being caught in a game of Sava between the two revered women, and she didn’t know which side of the web was more dangerous to be on.

Yet, relations between the two never felt hostile, merely passive-aggressive. Nocturne was fairly sure this had been proof the two knew each other at some point in their long histories, and that’s the real reason Mother was so watchful. Shadowheart wasn’t as easily convinced.

But Nocturne was one of the smartest people she’d ever known, and only bloomed brighter as they grew up. She’d just get sidetracked by provable facts a touch too often. Great for helping talk Shadowheart through her patchy memories, less great at recognizing the bullying of others.

That’s more what Shadowheart was for, with the scars to prove it. Like two halves of a whole.

She heard a click from near the Facemaker’s Boutique across the way. Nocturne’s signal that someone of note was approaching, and at this hour it wouldn’t be Julio or his children. Not that they were much of the observant sort at the best of times, especially his braggart of a son.

Shadowheart let herself relax when she saw the girl she had entrusted Nibbles to round the corner. It had been a slow day anyway, with little chances the night would prove any more eventful, and she hadn’t been “invited” to anything. She should be able to get away for a bit.

Karlach’s face lit up when she saw the girl slink up from the Elerrathin’s backyard. She rushed up to greet her, eyes nearly as bright as a candle as she grinned.

“Hey Shadow! I-”

“Keep it down, we don’t want to interrupt any dinners,” Shadowheart interrupted with a jerk of her head. “If we make too much of a fuss in this neighborhood, their “mother” will have our hides.”

“Ooooh, okay. My bad.” Karlach dropped to an airy half-whisper. “Friend of yours live there?”

“Friend? You mean you don’t know?” Shadowheart softly scoffed, and seeing Karlach’s head shaking like a wet dog she gave a smug smirk. “That’s Jahira’s place.”

Karlach gave a deep gasp that sounded more like a dying breath than Shadowheart wanted to think about, as she looked up at the house like it was a temple. “THE Jahira?!”

“The very same, and retirement’s never suited her so we’d best be going.” Shadowheart nodded and she hooked an arm around the teenager’s elbow, practically dragging her away as Karlach couldn’t tear her eyes from the home any more than she could lift her jaw from the street.

“Mum told me stories about her growing up!” Karlach gushed, and Shadowheart had to struggle a bit to keep the gawking girl moving along. “Dad’s always had a lot of respect for Harpers, and the things they’d do for us without asking anything in return.”

“You’d never know it from the sort of place she has, would you?” Shadowheart rolled her eyes to the darkness, “I assume you were looking for me for a reason, Karlach?”

“O-oh, yeah!” Karlach gave herself another shake to come to her senses and redirected all of Shadowheart’s efforts more towards the Blushing Mermaid. “You said you’d rather not owe favors, right? Could we trade our healing deal for you helping out with a kid I know?”

“A kid?”

“Yeah, kiddo said something about finding something in the Grand Duke’s books about a dragon. I’m going with him to keep him out of trouble; I mean it’s probably nothing! But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, and I figure taking him seriously doesn’t hurt anything.” Karlach scratched her neck as she looked awkwardly to the side like saying all this aloud made her feel foolish.

But Shadowheart has always had a soft spot for animals and children, when she could afford to. She gave a soft sigh and gave a small snap to let Nocturne know this might take some time.

“How’d the kid get in there?”

“Wyll’s dad’s in the Fists, and the Duke’s also their Marshall so he just brought him to “work” a little bit. Probably couldn’t find anyone to watch him.” Karlach shrugged, but noticed the way Shadowheart’s eyes widened when she recognized the name. “You know him?”

“Not personally, but I thought that was the name of Ravengard’s son.”

“You serious?” Karlach’s brows raised appropriately, but it didn’t look like the name held much meaning to her. She gave a slight hum in thought, “He’s a Blaze, right? Guess that explains why the kid acted like the Rock was practically his backyard. That’s where we’re meeting him, for the first part of his dragon story.”

“So if we break any laws, we won’t be going to far?” Shadowheart teased before giving a deeper sigh of relief as they kept passing by the Mermaid. She spared a glance at the tavern, and saw some worries there were well founded.

A red and raven tiefling was indulging a not-so-gentleman’s kiss on the hand as part of some flirtation. Her race helped hide the truth behind her glowing red eyes, but Shadowheart had briefly seen her as part of Cazador Szarr’s household. She could even barely make out the upper dip of a puncture scar over the woman’s high neckline, though the woman was wise to hide her fangs.

The vampires had been on the hunt more often lately, likely due to their missing brother. Whether it was to make up for his absence or seeking him specifically hardly mattered to her, as that was no longer the Mother’s concern. They held up their end of the bargain, even with Shadowheart’s failure in recapturing him or the Slayer. She wasn’t even punished all that badly for it this time.

Or was she? Well, it’d hardly make sense to have her forget something like that, right? And if she did, Lady Shar must have had her reasons to grant her faithful such a mercy.

She still kept quiet, given Karlach’s previous interest in people going missing. The farther this girl was from the monsters likely responsible for them, the better off she’d be.

Shadowheart missed nearly everything Karlach had been saying, up until she had Nibbles offered up to her. She didn’t want to risk drawing attention to her lapse in attention and accepted the mouse’s return, who beelined to the padded pocket she added to her armor’s lining.

Karlach waved away any attempts at thanks the Sharran tried to give her, and the girl didn’t seem to mind doing most of the talking. Shadowheart tried to better balance her attentions this time, but the trip to the Rock was both oddly pleasant and delightfully uneventful.

The company they appeared to be getting for the rest of this excursion didn’t bode half as well. Not that Shadowheart had that many expectations for who a child could rally behind him.

She certainly wasn’t expecting to see the vampire spawn and his pet demigod ever again, much less laughing and arguing over a strange raven. Luckily the bird was still intact and in surprisingly good spirits with that cursed company.

That made mildly more sense when upon seeing the bright red tiefling the spell the bird was under broke, revealing a delighted little boy that matched Karlach’s earlier description.

“Hey, Karlach! Look what Dirge got me!” Wyll Ravengard, the son of the right hand of the most powerful person in Baldur’s Gate, gladly waved a beautiful amethyst necklace that was definitely to blame for his transformation. Wonderful.

It’s not like showing her Dark Lady the respect She deserves was illegal because of ignorant fools like the boy’s father or anything. How could this possibly go wrong?

“Oh boo. He changed back,” the vampire pouted petulantly, to which “his” dragonborn slowly turned to him with a glare. He wasn’t phased enough by their vitriol to fein remorse. His attention was stolen by the new “interlopers”, and the threats they may become.

Since Shadowheart already knew what he was, he had no reason to act like a “person” anymore. Nothing too extreme, so the child might miss it, but all attempts at blinking or breathing stopped dead. Nothing to risk distracting him or throw off his aim the ways the living had to suffer.

“You thought he’d get stuck like that?!” His so-called pet panicked, but either they didn’t notice his shift or were willfully ignoring it in hopes of keeping the general mood lighter.

Whichever it was, it partly worked. He blinked like a cat when he looked up at them with a slight smile, and his posture stayed casual compared to how he was when they “negotiated” before.

“I mean, I had hoped polymorphing a child would have left him at the ugly, flightless, baby-bird stage, so baring that… Getting stuck would have been the second funniest outcome.” He admitted with a too-pleased-with-himself shrug.

“NO!”

Karlach’s head jerked between the dragonborn and the vampire before slowly co*cking her head at the latter, her face twisted in confusion almost as much as her neck was. “What the f-flump?”

Dirge blinked at her blankly with a distant expression Shadowheart knew all too well. The dread of not knowing if the stranger addressing you expected you to remember who they were. They tried to mask theirs with a “welcoming” smile, but that just made them look scared stupid.

Astarion’s dread on the other hand betrayed that he knew exactly who Karlach was, and how she recognized them both, though he tried to coach into something casual quickly. Not quick enough to escape Karlach’s notice either, though the young boy looked utterly clueless.

Karlach’s eyes narrowed at him, before really taking in the lack of recognition on Dirge’s face. The second the pieces fell into place for her, she pointed at him accusingly. “IT WAS YOU?!”

Astarion cleared his throat uncomfortably, before trying to give her a glare that just couldn’t keep an edge. “W-well what else could I do back there? If you had actually done your job, neither of us would have been in this situation. I was giving you an out as much as it was for me!”

“Then why the f*ck would you have said you died?” She asked in disbelief.

“Oh, yes, because knowing about… someone like me being around is just oh so comforting.” He rolled his eyes with a sneer, “The last thing I needed was your boss thinking I was trying to “enthrall his dear friend” and try to dispose of me “for their own good”.” Astarion put on a deeper tone like it might have been based on the man in question, before giving a shake of discomfort.

“And he probably can’t, by the way.” Wyll chimed in. “‘Cause he’s not a full vampire or anything.”

Astarion gave startled intake of breath as he glared down at how casually the kid pointed that out. He looked like he had half a mind to toss the boy into the river below, before Dirge took a step to help put them between him and everyone else protectively. So that dynamic still hadn’t changed.

Shadowheart figured it was best to step in before they genuinely tried to argue against the obvious, “Whatever we’re trying to do here should go more smoothly with that out in the open. As long as it stays between us, no one needs to get hurt. Not that it isn’t already obvious.” She gave him a brief once over, “the new look does help hide it better than you were the last time we met.”

Astarion’s eye twitched slightly but he looked away like he was conceding the point. “Not sure that’s much of a compliment coming from you, cleric.” He added mockingly with a knowing glance at the black and violet disc on her circlet and the emblem on her chain armor.

Having that bit of blackmail in his pocket did seem to ease some of his tension. Which was also an assurance he wasn’t going to be using it against her yet. He’s still on the defensive.

Karlach scratched her neck awkwardly before offering Dirge a hand in greeting, “I’m Karlach then, sorry I… Well, I thought we’d already met.”

“So you work for Gortash?” Dirge asked with some discomfort. “I hope Astarion explained what’s going on. I-if he’s upset I haven’t seen him I mean.”

“Yeah, no Fangs was real clear about the whole memory thing!” Karlach nodded, though she couldn’t resist the urge to give the amused Astarion a dirty scowl. Looking back at Dirge gently she added, “The boss understands, as long as you let him know when you’re feeling up to it.”

Dirge gave Astarion a glare that he was all to happy to ignore. “That’ll be easier once I know where the guy lives.” To remedy the situation they moved to stare him directly in the face. “We’ll fix that later, right Astarion?”

“Do we really need to waste time in the Upper City so soon, my dear?” He asked with a slightly shaken but otherwise half-charming grin.

They scowled at him for a breath before giving Karlach their attention instead, “Mind giving me the directions once we check this out?”

Wyll giggled at Astarion’s immediate indigent squawk at how easily he could be circumvented, which wasn’t helping the boy’s survival odds, as Karlach gave a thumb’s up in agreement.

Looking down at the pendant Wyll carried, Karlach seemed worried. “You sure you’re okay giving a kid something like that though, pal? That sort of magic can go for a lot with the right buyer.”

“Why, is it supposed to be special?” the Bhaalspawn co*cked their head like an innocent pup, “I got it from trading some magical baubles I had on me to a few sewer kobolds. I had hoped it’d give Astarion a sorta loophole so he’d have a bit more freedom during the day, but no dice.”

“And it’s not like they can’t already fly practically on command,” Astarion added with a smirk that brought a threatening glint to his eyes, though said dragonborn seemed confused by his claim.

“So now the Ravengard can let us all be Raven Guards.” They added with a maniacal giggle that only grew at the prissy ponce’s glare of utter contempt. Ignoring him they turned to the girls, “More seriously, I figured it’d do more good keeping him save than anything we could use it for.”

There was something off about their smile that time, like they had good reason to suspect he’d be targeted. Given who his father was, she didn’t doubt that for a second. But something about their worry seemed more personal than that. Something that added a touch of guilt to it.

“So you’re the friend with the mouse?” Wyll asked Shadowheart expectantly, “I’ve heard some clerics get to talk to animals! Can you do that too?”

“No, my Goddess hasn’t granted me that particular gift. Though, I hadn’t thought of asking for it before. I have heard its potion can be rather easy to make…” She added thoughtfully after shaking her head. Maybe she should ask Nocturne if she might be able to make so without too much fuss. If only to let him weigh in on The Great Name Debate between “Nibbles” and “Brie”.

“Well I could give it a try some time if you want me to!” Ravengard offered with an eager grin nearly the size of his face, “Not that it’d help anyone else talk to animals, but I could translate!”

“Oh no, the snack can have opinions now,” the vampire groaned to himself, to his own talking pet’s light chiding.

“I thought that wouldn’t be anything new for you,” Shadowheart retorted cooly as she made a pointed look at the still fresh puncture wounds on the dragonborn’s neck.

She didn’t really expect her barb to get much of a rise out of him but she felt his fury more than saw it. On the surface he stiffened in a way that reminded her of a cat trying to make itself bigger, but his exposed fangs and claws were no mere threat display.

The dragonborn did notice his bloodlust enough to put a hand on his shoulder, and the vampire tolerated the touch enough to let himself be pulled back slightly so they could take the lead.

“Shadowheart, right? Thank you for your help before.” They gave her a slight bow that still left them looming over her when their eyes rose to meet hers without raising their head. “That being said, don’t judge things you don’t know anything about. He has my permission, so back off.”

Their voice dipped into gravel boasting blood soaked promises that would make their father proud. But their eyes bore no extra malice for it. They were as deadly calm and even looking at her as they were at the vampire when he returned the light pull to take command.

“You have their gift to thank for that thing of yours still squeaking despite my Master’s demand,” Astarion scoffed at her with an edge of discomfort. “Unless you’d rather I fix that?”

“So, that’s why you’re a weird spawn? ‘Cause you’ve started… eating better?” The child interrupted skeptically, with a furrowed pout like he was comparing notes in his mind.

“Because I’ve been eating the best, thank you,” Astarion returned with a pout of his own and a dismissive flick of imaginary dirt off his armor. “It’s hardly like they’re the epitome of “normal” either.”

The dragonborn lightly snickered at the strange compliment. But for all their bravado they weren’t immune to the physical costs of their “generosity”. Shadowheart gave a sigh as she beckoned them over with a hand.

“Then at least let me heal it for you. The last thing we need is for you to trip from a lack of focus.”

They raised a claw like they wanted to object to needing any help there but reconsidered with a guilty wince. There was a glance to the vampire for signs of disapproval, but not getting any they let her magic force their heart to replace what their new warden stole, and put their mind at ease.

“Might want to hold off on other spells until after these “dragon puzzles”, eh? Don’t want to waste all of our tricks right out the gate.” Karlach pointed out gently, which the boy merrily agreed to.

“With this company, I’m not sure who’s a “sitter” and who’s one of the children.” Shadowheart murmured to herself, and the vampire snorted to himself.

“That’s rich coming from you, half elf. You’re what, nearly 20? Practically a child yourself.”

“33, but thank you for the compliment,” she retorted with her head held high before giving him a side-eye, “Not that anyone could ever guess your age with how you behave.”

“Hey, Boss says I’m ready to work already, how much more of an “adult” do I gotta be?!” Karlach huffed to herself.

“Depends, how old?” Shadowheart asked and the red tiefling shrank a little.

“... Sixteen… Come winter.”

“If it makes you feel any better I might also be fifteen,” the former Dark Urge said with a nervous looking grin.

Her breath caught at their confession, but that had more to do with the fact they were already a vessel for the Slayer. What were the Bhaalists’s thinking, having their own divine child condemned so young? Even the slander against her own Goddess could never go this far.

She almost wondered if they knew what a visceral reaction it’d get from their companions as the vampire’s eyes bulged from choking on his own spit before trying to pull them aside.

“EXCUSE ME- I-” he only half caught himself as he coughed to clear his throat to appear calmed but his eyes were still mildly manic, “No, I’m sorry. Will you pardon us for a moment?” Astarion’s smiled none too kindly, but the dragonborn proved harder to pull aside than he expected.

“Did I say something wrong?” they asked with genuine worry, so there went that idea.

“Oh, whatever gave you that idea, my dear?” He hissed, before uttering softer to himself, “Gods, if I wasn’t bound to the hells before…” Seeing his cohort’s anxiety only worsened his own mortification, “If you don’t know your age, the least you can do is default to 20 or something!”

“Do I really look like I should be settled already to you? Like, starting a family?” Dirge asked with a more disturbed confusion.

“What- No. Gods, can you imagine yourself as a parent?” Astarion snorted as he visibly tried to minimize his panicking. “Tried” being the key term. “I’m just asking you to keep your guesses to an adult range!”

“... You realize that’s what they did, yeah?” Karlach interrupted as she braided a lock of her wild mane idly. “Dragonborn age fast, mate. Mum warned me when some of my mates started outgrowing me that their 20 is our 40. Or… Wait, what would it be for elves?” She clicked her tongue in thought, though that and Dirge’s nodding spared the idiot some of his heart attack.

“Over 400 or something I think.” Wyll said as he looked up in thought, before his grin grew mischievous and cruel. “Though, he’s talking pretty big for a guy who died before he was 40.”

She could see the vampire weighing the odds on if he could get away with child murder tonight, but all present witnesses weren’t in his favor there. Least of all the one he brought with him.

“Did your father never tell you that children are meant to be seen, and not heard?” The vampire near snarled, though the only one who seemed surprised were the tieflings.

Admittedly, while Shadowheart was expecting to hear he was an Ardavanshee brat of some flavoring, she hadn’t expected it to have been from dying that young. … This kinda made his attitude worse really. Two centuries later and he’s still acting worse than a typical teenager.

“Sounds like your father said that to you too much, but somehow it still didn’t stick,” Wyll shot back with a casual fearless shrug. One that encouraged Dirge to “hug” their partner to keep his claws safely out of child-maiming distance.

If he kept this up, it’d only be right for the vampire to scare some sense into him. But for now, as long as the bodyguard and the Bhaalspawn were on his side the vampire wouldn’t be at his neck.

The dragonborn got a certain glint in their eye like a thought occurred to them, and gave the vampire in their arms a smile that should have left the idiot terrified. Not that it looked any more malicious than normal, theirs just wasn’t a face made for “innocent” smiles. As things stood he looked only slightly less furious and a touch more curious at what they were up to.

Making sure there were no other witnesses, they used their “hug” to lift him like he was as light as a vine of grapes and bring him closer to a wall. Close enough to press him against it at their eye level, which took his mind straight to the gutter with a surprised but not displeased “oh”. But their mind didn’t seem to be in there with him.

Not that poor Karlach noticed, as she looked like she had more than half a mind to whisk the “innocent child” away the second things got any more suggestive. The boy, to his credit, co*cked his head like he wasn’t completely following where that could be going.

The dragonborn’s grin grew even wider when they backed off, leaving the vampire unsupported on the wall a good foot above the street. He stammered some objections to their “rejection”, but it only took a futile grab after them to realize what they were testing.

He looked absolutely dumbfounded as he looked down at himself and back up to them, like somehow this idiot didn’t know what vampires were supposed to be capable of. His companion clapped their claws together like an excited child with their tail wagging faster than Nocturne’s did when she offered to do the other girl’s hair for a change once she grew it long enough.

Karlach and Wyll looked equally impressed, though the boy quickly turned thoughtful before giving a nod and saying something about a book mentioning they could cling to walls like spiders.

“I didn’t know if I’ve never seen you do anything like this because you just didn’t want to, or if the asshole was trying to hide it from all of you!” Dirge laughed to themselves as they held up their hands in a soft surrender. Giving said open hands a showy shake they added, “Ta dah?”

Astarion’s words caught in his throat as he tried to gauge how easily he could move at that angle. And more importantly, how to get himself back down without landing on his face like a fool. As funny as that might have been, he unfortunately proved to have the grace of a cat.

“H-hey, you were going to drop me?!” He managed out, still incredibly catlike in his ability to pull off a hissy fit.

Dirge actually looked stung, as if the vampire wasn’t the one acting a fool to save his ego. “It’s only a step high! It was the safest way I could think of without just asking, and I thought you wouldn’t trust what the books said! Besides, we’ve got two healers here even if you fell.” They finished holding a hand at Shadowheart and… themselves?

Wyll was proudly nodding along until he caught that too, “You can heal too? It’s not much, but my first spell was a healing word!” He beamed up at them, before his eyes dropped to the floor as he chewed on his bottom lip to add softer than a breath, “and, uh… kinda my only working spell.”

“THREE HEALERS!” Dirge joyfully corrected with an outstretched hand pointing to the bashful boy like they didn’t catch that last confession.

The vampire they were trying to reassure gave Shadowheart a half-amused raised eyebrow, recognizing she was the only one with a hope of seeing how pointless this was. It’s not like conventional healing methods did the undead any good, and he’d heal faster on his own anyway.

But be that as it may, their unprompted confession couldn’t just go unaddressed.

“No, I’m on the child’s side, mind elaborating on that?” She asked. Seeing how their jaw snapped shut and the red of their neck was starting to crawl upword, she saw an excuse for it might be what they needed to crack. “Wyll said he’s got a healing word, so in a bind he could heal one person while helping another. Knowing the nature of a heal, and how often you can use spells like it is rather important to know, strategically.”

Dirge gave an unhappy groan, and took in a hissing breath, “I, uh… I can’t explain how it works?”

“Then a demonstration will do.” Shadowheart crossed her arms with a scolding glower at their attempt to avoid explaining.

“Alright, is anyone hurt?” Dirge asked uncomfortably, eyes already scanning the three living members of this would-be party for signs of injury. Shadowheart didn’t like how their gaze narrowed at her right hand, like they already knew what was hiding under her gauntlet.

“I’m incredibly hurt right now,” the vampire bemoaned with the gravitas of an overpaid actress, sh*t eating grin only growing at Dirge still not realizing even if they could heal, it wouldn’t work.

“If it worked on emotional damage in a city like this, we’d never have money problems.” Dirge scoffed with a small snicker and a snort. But that didn’t take their attention from her hand for long.

As if Shar was offended by the Bhaalspawn’s attention, her black scar began to ache. As hard as she tried to bite back the pain, it wasn’t enough for everyone to notice. Even Nibbles gave a squeak from her armor.

Karlach barely had a chance to ask what was wrong before the dragonborn grabbed Shadowheart’s hand between both of theirs, like a twisted prayer of their own, and they gave a low deep hum like a melodic monk’s meditation.

It did stopper the pain, but Shadowheart wasn’t used to magic feeling wet. Not even a chill like an applied ointment or getting caught in the rain, but something warm that started slick but soon grew tacky under the contact like- like it was being bathed in another’s blood.

Not as surprising, remembering what god created them, but an unsettling association all the same. If she had been bleeding, she might not have even noticed how their magic felt at all.

Dirge didn’t look too hurt from how quickly she snatched her hand back, but they didn’t break their gaze from her. “How does it feel now?”

“Better, but it’ll only be temporary. It’s not something that can be healed.” Shadowheart admitted, but under four sets of eyes she gave into the silent request to see what the problem was.

Karlach gave a sympathetic wince while Wyll looked scared by the color, but Dirge held out their hand to give hers a closer look.

“Hmm, under two centimeters in diameter, the color’s closer to frostbite than deep bruising, near the base of the third metacarpus from the thumb…” They mumbled to themselves in a deeper tone, almost trancelike in their focus before their eyes went back to her face. “Does this give you any dexterity issues? Stiffness of the connected finger, ache in the bone, that sort of thing?”

Astarion stopped rolling his eyes at the others’ fussing to stare at Dirge like they just drew a knife. She wasn’t sure if him being scared was a good thing for the rest of them or not.

Shadowheart swallowed any concerns like that down, “I was cursed by a goddess; there’s nothing to be done about it unless she wishes to undo it herself. I’ve had it for years, the flare ups just caught me off guard this time. You don’t need to waste any more magic on this; I’m fine.”

“Holy sh*t,” Karlach said softly, “why the f*ck would any of them waste their time on us like this?”

“It doesn’t matter-” Shadowheart tried to brush off as she got her glove back on, but Dirge’s somber voice interrupted her.

“It’s Shar’s work. Giving suffering to those who can’t enjoy it always has the chance of bringing them into her fold in hopes of being freed from it.” They gave a soft sigh and small nod, “With a Goddess like that, the best you can do is bear it well. I’m sorry.”

Karlach’s eyes widened in her mistaken recognition, her fury quietly set; her misbelief that she was dealing with a Selunite further justified Lady Shar’s “interest” in her eyes no doubt.

Shadowheart gave a sigh of relief, and offered Wyll a small comforting smile as she looked down towards her Lady’s mark. “I’ve had it since I was a child, it really doesn’t bother me. Don’t we have a quest to get to?”

The boy didn’t look fully convinced on his own, but Karlach giving a nod for him to listen to her and drop it helped reassure him, as much as he found her reality distasteful.He gave his own nod of resolve as he squared his stance towards Wyrm’s Rock before readying himself.

Wyll scampered ahead, across the bridge and skipping stairs to the prison cells with a practiced ease and child’s exuberance. Karlach and Dirge followed close behind with equal energy. The one and a half elves were in no such rush, but only Shadowheart bothered to try apologizing for the ruckus.

With how many Fists shook their heads with an understanding grin, Wyll was known enough for it to not be warranted. She tried not to let Astarion’s smug silence push her to violence too early.

The Ravengard boy was already standing on a box, proudly showing off one of two dragon torches, but his two babyguards were already sharing blank looks to each other. Upon seeing her, Karlach’s face begged Shadowheart for help.

“What’s the problem then? It just takes a spark, doesn’t it?”

Beside the tiefling the Storm Sorcerer’s face was equally beseeching. “Do you know some sparky magic? Wyll says a bard’s thunder spells aren’t actually the same thing.”

Shadowheart didn’t need to look at Astarion to know he was enjoying this. She gave him her most scalding glare anyway, and he was far too pleased with himself and her roiling hatred.

Should have known better it wouldn’t be enough to scold him into honesty.

Dirge got the wrong message and their hopeful gaze might as well have belonged to an adoring puppy dog when it turned Astarion’s way. “Do you have a scroll that can help?”

As much as it would bring shame to Lady Shar, perhaps She could make an exception for one of her clerics to learn how to harness the sun’s rays just to wipe this vampire from Her domain.

Without further prompting he sidled to his favorite toy and whispered something to them which made them look confused. “How could I know that?”

“Trust me, darling, I’ve seen you do it before.” The liar purred, like that wasn’t what left them in this ignorant mess. “You remember how badly you scared our dear Casket at first, don’t you?”

The dragonborn looked skeptical but took a breath before whistling a soldier’s training tune to themselves and rubbed their palms together as if they were a child just learning the secret of friction and a good pair of winter mittens.

At their master’s command the storm running through their veins called jagged lines of red to dance along their white scales. Glee shining in matching fiery eyes, they held out the first claw to a torch. As soon as red sparks hit the yellow flame they burst into a bright magic-infused blue.

Wyll and Karlach were practically squealing in excitement as the success bolstered Dirge’s spirits to the point of snapping at the torch’s twin to possibly unwittingly call lightning to finish the job. The wall between the two azure flames shimmered like mist to show a green path beyond.

Dirge easily scooped the child under one arm and less gracefully hauled the teenager with the other and let their storm launch the three hollering fools into the moonlit sanctuary. Astarion took a less elaborate leap past the boxes blocking the way, as Shadowheart gave the few prison guards an apologetic bow at their all too appropriate “shock”.

Shadowheart almost swore she felt something spiny brush against her as she climbed over the obstacle to follow her group like a normal person. It didn’t bother her that her pace meant the abandoned chest was picked clean without her. Though she did give the nearby skeleton a worried look as she passed it. Hopefully they were the former owner of the chest and little else.

She wasn’t sure why the designers left such a short natural tunnel between the prison and the awaiting gate. The stonework of the door’s arch was the same as most Baldurian architecture, right down to the blue brickwork around the keystone, so it couldn’t be that much older.

“What are we going to say if we even find a dragon?” Karlach softly asked.

“Farwelis! Ur Levex gethrisjs korthys agox!” Dirge said in what must have been draconic with a confidence that quickly collapsed, “Er, wait. Maybe starting with “help” isn’t such a good idea, if that’s what he’s waiting on… Maybe “Myr vi orik ekess ocuir zyak versvesh orik darastrix” would be better. Or if we need compliments to not die, we can always try-”

“Have you considered something we could actually say, love?” Astarion asked the dragonborn which got a bashful chuckle from the blushing brute.

“R-rightttt, ummm…”

“If he was friends with a human like Balduran, he’s gotta know common, right?” Wyll asked, and got a surprised look from the eldest among them.

“We’re saying he was a human now? That’s a change.” Astarion’s eyes darted up in thought and his hands started to act like they could be doing the talking for him, “With how often his helms hid his ears, most stories I heard suspected he did so for a reason. Personally I was always partial to him being half sea-elf of some persuasion, and that’s why he never stayed on land for long.”

“Or the ones that thought his mother was a mermaid and that’s what drove him back to the sea,” Shadowheart added with a sagely smile. Far more becoming than Astarion’s raised brow, who was definitely thinking more of the stories that made those theories “spicier”.

Unlike him, a lady never tells, unless well prompted by a fellow connoisseur in proper company with a decent offering of wine.

Wyll gave a dramatic gasp at a trio of murals showing the meeting, successes, and parting between Balduran and this supposed bronze dragon along the left wall while a statue of Balduran stood proudly to the right of the next door. He gleefully described the story unfolding around the elf-eared man aloud the way children were wont to do when they were figuring things out.

“Hey, he’s even in the ol’ “looks out to see” pose again,” Karlach pointed out while Dirge was quietly awed by the same paintings Wyll was. Karlach cleared her throat a little like there was something to be uncomfortable about. “The original wasn’t far from where I grew up. But the cliffs could get pretty spooky, and the statue wasn’t an exception either. Older kids would do tests of courage ‘bout it on clear bright nights and swore to their gods that it’d move.”

Shadowheart didn’t press, seeing how even repeating it gave Karlach the shivers. But Karlach herself must have gotten just a bit too close to this one.

The tiefling gave an unholy shriek when a posh poetic voice started echoing around the room. He spoke of perils on the land against a rising hoard of enemies and the dragon who laid beyond who might help turn the tide in the city’s favor, if he was addressing “Worthy” heroes.

“Easy there, Spitfire, it’s just a magic mouth spell.” Astarion chimed in before Karlach’s panic put the statue at risk. “Not that breaking it would do anything, it doesn’t seem to be trapped.” Striding up beside her he leaned over her shoulder to faux-whisper conspiratorialy behind his hand like they were old friends making jokes at a pub. “It’s not like you could make him look any worse.”

“H-hey, that’s Balduran you’re talking about, show some more respect!” Wyll objected as he rushed to Karlach’s side.

“That might mean more if kids your age weren’t just as likely to call him “Baldy Ron” or be hearing tales of him besting devils with a turnip,” Astarion teased back with a tad too many teeth for his smile to seem well intentioned.

“What does it matter how “respectable” his stories are if they keep the important gist of it?” Karlach asked as she put her hand on her hip not unlike the statue’s, “He was wicked smart and used that to help people. Sometimes you need “Great Heroes” to get kids to learn their lessons.”

“True…” Astarion gave a worried hum at the statue’s decree, and gave Shadowheart a side glance, “Don’t suppose they’d accept “morally-questionable heroes” as a substitute?”

“For you, me, or them?” she dryly pointed over her shoulder to the Slayer in humanoid clothing mooning over the painting of the wily elf looking upon his city from atop his loyal airborne friend.

The vampire gave a soft hiss as he breathed in through teeth, “At least you can claim some higher power. Your “Lady’s” older than sin with respect to match.”

Her breath caught when he referenced her, but as vaguely as he framed it hopefully the other two wouldn’t recognize which sister he had actually meant. At least the moon-witch’s popularity was in her favor there. But asking at all was a danger; Selunites aren’t treated as villains for their faith.

“I’m no Chosen,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and noted she had Bhaal’s Chosen’s attention.

“Astarion’s a hero to me,” the local murderous fiend piped up innocently.

“As much as I adore you too, sweetheart, I don’t think two conflicted villains vouching for each other would be enough to convince a dragon.”

“Then we eat the dragon,” Dirge replied with barely a shift to their smile.

“See, this is the sort of thing I’m talking about, blood-dove! Remember that talk we had about not sharing our “dirty thoughts” in public? It counts double around children!” Astarion chided with a desperate energy, though Wyll and Karlach both laughed like their “friend” was kidding.

Given who had better know them best by now, Shadowheart was worried that the Bhaalspawn’s interest in the city’s supposed protector wasn’t as innocent as their other companions was.

“You’re the one on a quest to slay the vampire lord plaguing our city.” Dirge retorted as they crossed their arms with a cant of their hip. “On paper that’s a lot more nobel than us just wanting to prove if a dragon’s real or not.”

“Okay, first we’re hardly a plague and second, quest sounds a bit too generous if you ask me-”

“I think it checks out.” Karlach cut in with a teasing grin, making the vampire’s pout devolve into a full scowl.

“I think a slaver’s baby bodyguard doesn’t have the good sense to make that call,” he spat back with an odd amount of venom.

“What are you talking about?! He’s nothing like that you son of a-” Karlach’s teeth were set like she was ready to bare them, eye slightly twitching from holding her tongue around Wyll.

The dragonborn put themselves between the two as they gave Astarion the sort of confused look a struck puppy might. That almost made him look half guilty before he turned on his heel to walk away.

“What was that for? Are you alright?” Dirge whispered when they caught up to him, out of earshot of Wyll and Karlach who decided to go on ahead but not Shadowheart’s elven senses.

“I’ll be fine, my sweet. I’ve got some “bookshopping” to do anyway,” he shouldered them softly before turning them back around. “If I don’t see you at the Sundries by the time I’m done I’ll catch up with you here. They’ll need all the help they can get if you want them to stay in one piece.”

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything. I fear our little crowd’s proving a bit much for me right now, so I’ll stick to something best done on my own. Have fun, dear.” Astarion gave them a small bow and a similar one with a soft apology to Karlach before turning on his heel to leave.

He caught Shadowheart’s dirty look with a hollow smug smirk as he offered a flick of the wrist like a wave. The dragonborn looked torn on who to follow despite his blessing, but trotted to catch up with their other two fools.

“I’m sorry about that, I don’t know what got into him,” Dirge offered weakly, and Karlach rose a brow at them as if to ask if they really thought that apologizing for him would do him any good.

The tiefling gave a huffed sigh. “Don’t worry about it. Maybe bringing it up like that scared him or something?”

“Or it was you making assumptions on his behalf that riled him up, Karlach,” Shadowheart pointed out as Wyll started pulling ahead to a locked door circled by four branching paths.

“It’s not like I was being mean or anything though?”

“I know. But having people act like you are nobler than you know or believe yourself to be can be more aggravating than you might expect.” Shadowheart looked from Karlach to Dirge, “particularly when it comes from the mouth of a stranger, rather than someone who knows you.”

Dirge crossed their arms, brow furrowed and posture tense like they were still thinking they played a role in his outburst too.

Wyll gave a dramatic gasp as he darted off through the one path that was already opened, “What is it? Hey, does anyone know what that is?!”

Karlach’s ears perked a little as she rushed to see it too and Shadowheart heard a confused “huh”.

“Duty calls,” She lightly teased Dirge, who trailed behind her. At least they were close enough to hear the prompt Wyll triggered from hopping in front of a Balduran statue holding a set of scales.

So, they had an art gallery showing the set up for this “trial”, three possible paintings to complete the tale of the red haired thief, and… Well, Shadowheart could see why Wyll struggled with it. The “judge” was a living shadow that hid what each of the fates could be with a curse.

Dirge didn’t even bother looking at the paintings around them, they just went straight for the Judge with a stern expression.

“You’re in the way, wretched thing! Begone, or I’ll have your hide to make us a fourth ending.” They snarled, their voice deep and without a shred of doubt that they meant every word. The red glow of their eyes cut through the surrounding darkness with ease, and their yellow teeth were bared in a cruel mirthless smile.

Karlach and Wyll both jumped at the threat, Karlach taking a step back and put the boy behind her. But whatever the shadow was, it wasn’t sentient enough to consider anything past its task.

“Unless you know how to command the undead, that’s not going to work.” Shadowheart rolled her eyes as she strode to stand beside the Bhaalspawn, who pouted down at her petulantly.

“What’d you mean? Being undead doesn’t make you dumb or fearless, just look at Astarion.”

“Not your best argument, from what I’ve seen from him.” Shadowheart gave them a small mocking grin as their pout deepened. Maybe it’d be best to highlight the kinder meaning, “We only met because he chose to seek out his master as a free soul, which could go either way.”

That did soften their expression before they looked away from her, towards where the last painting should be placed. “It’s not like he had much of a choice. Until the bastard’s dead, without my blood he won’t get to stay free for long.”

“So that’s what he meant by “eating the best”?” Shadowheart co*cked her head up at them, and got a shamed nod. “I see. My apologies. But you can see how this,” she gestured to her own neck, “might not be that sustainable either.”

“We’re just building our strength and confidence, before we face him again.” Dirge said as they found they were able to meet her gaze this time. With a soft tilt of their head they asked with a weak awkward grin, “I don’t suppose you could teach me the spell you used before though?”

“I doubt it,” she admitted with a shake of her own head, before facing the shadow. “I’m not sure you’d be able to use this one either.”

With some focus and a prayer, darkness spelled from her own cursed hand towards the dark Judge, and its own shadowy essence flickered as the gift her dark lady granted her consumed it. In moments, the “curse” that created the thing was lifted, and with it all the paintings were revealed.

“It was essentially a construct, so I broke the spell that made it,” she explained to the three of them as she took a seat where they’ll need to place the most “just” fate this thief deserved.

“Wow, that’s great!” Wyll complimented as he went to check out the three options. “Let’s see… An execution? No way that’s right, he didn’t hurt anybody.”

“You don’t always need to, for justice to prove cruel,” Shadowheart chimed from her perch, but Karlach was shaking her head at her.

“No way this is it; the little girl he got food for is crying!” Karlach literally pointed out, not that Shadowheart could see it from where she sat. “They wouldn’t show he had a good heart if they wanted us to throw the book at ‘em.”

“True,” Dirge agreed beside the tiefling before moving on to their next option, “How about this one then?”

Wyll gave an uncomfortable whine and shook his head, “Even if someone else put him up to it, he still chose to steal something nobody immediately needed. And even if somebody did, that wouldn’t make it “right”. We can’t just let him go free; that’s not fair. Laws need consequences.”

Dirge deflated a little and looked at the floor beside the boy uncomfortably, before turning to their last option. Karlach skipped over to give it a look and put on her “best” appraising thoughtful pout as she nodded at it like a snobby art critic with a put on voice to match. “Hmm, yes, quite right. Now this one might show some promise. What say you, Ravengard?”

The boy snorted a laugh through grinning teeth as he went to give it a look, and his face brightened even more. “Yeah! Prison’s meant to reform, to help let you learn your lesson. That’s gotta be the most fair!”

“The Wyll Of The People Has Spoken!” Dirge announced as they took the painting under their arm and turned to Shadowheart as they waved their free claw in a brushing off manner. “Sorry miss, doesn’t look like “Justice” considers you a valid option.”

“Shows what they know.” Shadowheart gave an exaggerated shrug as she slid off the pedestal so Dirge could give “Balduran” their final answer, to the statue’s praise. “There’s one down.”

“Great! So, which should be next?” Wyll asked, “I chose the first one, and there’s four of us, so somebody else can pick now!”

Shadowheart looked to the path immediately to their left, and the magic bridge to a less elaborate door. She wasn’t sure if it was meant to be invisible, but the water dripping from above them helped make the solid surface easier to see, as a magic light glinted off the liquid caught on it.

“Not that the fourth will get much of a choice,” Dirge lightly teased, and got a small shove from Karlach before the girl ran up the stairs across the way.

“Yeah, I’m not trusting that weird glowy path right out the gate, so I’m going with this one!” She exclaimed.

Shadowheart frowned a little but as the dragonborn said, it’s not like the order should matter too much. So she followed along, to a room that suffered even from the leaks up above and a torch set under that next statue of Balduran in the center. For a “test of courage”, and help keep this flame safe from an onslaught of elements.

“I’ve got it!” Wyll offered before Shadowheart moved to take it instead.

Almost instantly water and air elementals materialized to test them. Shadowheart summoned a set of radiant spirits to protect herself, as much as their light sickened her. “Sorry Wyll, but you said you were trying to be a bard, weren’t you? You couldn’t hold a torch and a violin at once.”

“O-oh,” he softly exclaimed as seeing the figures looming over him made him pause. But he still had the sense and courage of his own to stand at the ready with his instrument of choice.

“You mean we’ve actually got a fight?” Karlach grinned with a manic energy as she braced her axe, “Finally, something I’m good at. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, Shadowheart, I’ve got this.”

Dirge looked at their lute, and back to the figures threatening the group, before choosing to try handling this with naught but claws, magic, and the threat of their freezing breath.

Honestly, this test felt like one Shadowheart could have done on her own. She’s failed enough lessons trying to stealth that this felt much like what they turned into when she had been caught. Dodging around the pesky spirits was a breeze compared to evading her fellow Sharrans.

These elementals didn’t want to hurt her the way some of her mentors would. These were just trying to do their task, and as the objective was to outlast them, she didn’t need to hurt them either. She still summoned an ax of her own to fight in her stead, but found the air elementals were rather content to try attacking it over her.

Karlach looked very impressed by the magical blade fighting on its own, “Is that the sorta thing Danthelon's Dancing Axe is named after?! I want one of those!”

“Doesn’t work like that I’m afraid, Karlach. This’ll fade not long after the fight’s done unless it breaks first. You’ll need to find a wizard to make that sort of enchantment.”

“Oh come on, man…” Karlach groaned as she saw her blade pass through a watery figure without much of a sign her hits were doing any real damage to it. “That’s just not fair.”

“Nope, but magic rarely is,” Dirge teased and a click of a claw called down lightning on Karlach’s pest, and they both saw it reduced to little more than steam. “But we make do, don’t we?”

The tiefling nodded as she turned to a more airy foe instead.

Shadowheart found she could even spare the magic to doubly ensure Wyll’s safety, as he tried his best to inspire the rest of them. Though perhaps due to his size most of the constructs seemed to overlook his presence in favor of those actually doing the fighting.

At best, he got caught up in an attempt to silence her and Dirge’s magic by catching them in a stormy vortex. That one didn’t fancy getting ice breathed for the offense one bit, but the resulting ice sculpture wasn’t exactly in a position to complain when the boy struggled to knock it down.

All it took was a full minute for the statue’s test to be satisfied, and none of them were too worse for wear.

“Okay, I’m overruling Karlach this time: We’re getting the magical bridge out of the way,” Shadowheart announced, and wasn’t too surprised to find the tiefling was far more reluctant to risk crossing the see-through walkway over the abyss than Wyll was.

Neither should have been surprised Dirge chose to “fix” the problem by just picking the girl up and carrying her across instead, though it made her cling to them like a terrified squirrel.

They didn’t even put her down when they made it across to “solid” ground, though Karlach was able to twist the shoulder-carry to one more akin to a piggy back as they took in the stone study. The Balduran with a book in his hands claimed this was a test of intuition, to find which of three would be advisors would risk leading his people to ruin.

All they had to go off to determine which it was, were books. A lot of books, surprisingly intact despite the ages, though some of the paper works were still long past saving.

“Don’t tell me we gotta do more reading…” Karlach groaned and planted her face on Dirge’s shoulder.

“Might not need as much as you think,” Dirge offered as they pointed to a book flying across a walkway. “The library might be a red herring. There’s got to be a reason why they’d enchant only three books. They might be using magic to keep them from decaying like the rest.”

“On it!” Wyll exclaimed as he launched himself at it, and did manage to get a grip on it. But the spell was strong enough that he struggled to reach the floor to get leverage on it, and by the time Karlach got down to help him the book bucked him off. “Oof. Blasted thing…”

Karlach didn’t do much better as the pages sliced her fingers when she failed to get a grip. “Slippery f*cker! … Sorry,” she apologized to Wyll bashfully for the swear.

Shadowheart was able to snag it on its upstroke as she let it pass her, but all that book contained was Stedd’s thoughts regarding “The Virtue of Unions”, with little mention of the others’ opinions.

Dirge tried to catch the second and when that failed their tempers flared, trying to hit it out of the air by throwing another book at it. But that caused both books to erupt in a flurry of mangled pages, with little more than the title “Suelto’s Ethics of War” to go off of for how she thought.

“Okay, so, we can’t hurt the books if we fail to catch them…” Shadowheart sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get this last one for us either.”

“Umm…” Dirge stared at their mess with a wide eyed worry, “sooo, does this mean we failed?”

“If we can catch the last one, that should give us an idea of if Amap or Suelto’s more misguided.” Wyll said as he took a seat cross legged on the floor, staring at the last flapping book over steepled fingers. “So we can’t risk hurting this one at all.”

“Yeeeeah, don’t think I’ll be able to do that.” Karlach said as she sat down beside him. “Any ideas?”

Wyll hummed to himself, and straightened himself to try a tune on his violin that did something to the boy. “Mind if I see your mouse?”

“Don’t see why not,” Shadowheart agreed and let Nibbles free from his pocket, and the mouse grew oddly attentive when Wyll re-introduced himself to him. And surprisingly loud at hearing “Nibbles”, to her mild worry. She did not need to finish this day by telling Nocturne she was right.

“Hallowleaf?” Wyll echoed, and that… felt familiar for reasons Shadowheart couldn’t place. He listened to Nibbles’ squeaking patiently, before looking up to her, “Who’s “Mama Jene” and “Mama Noct”?”

“I assume Noct is for “Nocturne”, she’s been helping me take care of him. But I don’t know any “Jenny”-” She said with a pit of dread rising in her chest, as more squeaks interrupted her. “Is he explaining?”

“Something about an “Icky Vici” that took the rest of his family away,” Wyll supplied, and co*cked his head. “He says he knows why you and Nocturne don’t like her “old name”, and won’t use it to keep you both happy, but didn’t think yours worked the same way.”

Shadowheart blinked blankly from the boy to the mouse on her lap, tilting its eyeless face up at her curiously. She had no idea what Nibbles could be talking about, she doesn’t know any Jennys or Vickies-

What was the Mother Superior’s name again? No, that shouldn't matter.

Shadowheart found Nibbles when he was alone, so what “family” could he be talking about aside from her and Nocturne unless-

No. She was brought into the cloister as an orphan. Rescued by the Mother Superior herself from a vicious silver-eyed wolf, exactly as Lady Shar wished her to. She was alone in the woods that night, lost and trying to find her way on with only the meager light of the moon to guide her.

Nothing is making any sense. So obviously her friend is mistaken, but… Nibbles had no reason to just lie off the cuff like this. And unlike her, he’s never had memories taken by Lady Shar.

What is she supposed to make of this?

“What do you think the mouse can do?” Karlach asked Wyll, letting Shadowheart stew in a fresh batch of worries.

“I didn’t realize he was blind.” Wyll admitted bashfully as he chewed on his bottom lip. “I was kinda hoping we could get him onto the book and he could maybe read some of it, or something.”

“Oooh, yeah nah.” Karlach chuckled before giving a deep sigh. “So back to the drawing board…”

There was a soft clatter of stone skipping across itself, like knocked by a careless bootstep. But the four should be alone down here, unless they actually took long enough to worry the guards that saw Wyll enter this place or for the dragonborn’s fool to come back.

She barely had time to catch Dirge’s head snap in attention, but their eyes were unfocused. They were operating on instincts and nerves, not logic.

Karlach put herself in front of Wyll when the dragonborn sprung in the direction of the faintest of footsteps. The growl in their throat nearly drowned out their victim’s shock.

Given that it was their vampire, said growl didn’t last as long as it should have when their senses and sense caught back up with them. But despite being pinned flat on his back Astarion looked more surprised than offended. A touch embarrassed about being caught maybe, but none the worse for wear.

Shadowheart resisted the impulse to scoff when she realized it probably wasn’t “embarassment”, with how the vampire pouted at Dirge’s quiet panic at lashing out at him.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” Astarion teased as the dragonborn’s scales around their neck tried their damndest to match the rest of them. But like the pull of waves, the recession was only a warning that when it came back it was with a vengeance that nearly left them pink.

They pushed themselves off of him and back to their feet in one motion, and that brief pressure and seeing their rush to escape for what it was made the vampire take action.

“Excuse me?! Don’t you run away!” He couldn’t manage to catch either wrist, but when they turned to bolt Astarion did snag their tail enough for their momentum to pull him back to his feet.

“Hey!” They pulled their limb around themselves as they pet the pointed tip like it still stung.

“You’re the one got me on my back, it’s only right you take some responsibility to set things right,” he retorted with a scowl as he dusted himself off with a taut sneer as he checked himself. When he was content they didn’t ruin anything that punchable smug smirk crawled back across his face. “Though, I must say it was far from an unpleasant view~”

Dirge looked at her beseechingly, but if they were begging her to perform a funeral rite they were barking up the wrong tree. If they wanted to crawl into a hole and die so badly, they’re already halfway there.

Now if it was for the vampire’s, maybe she could work something out. But if they had to put up with him, at least there was a way to make him immediately useful.

“If you want to find a room with them, please help us finish this one up.” Shadowheart sighed, and Karlach nodded furiously as she pointed at the elusive flying book.

Astarion looked from the two adults, to the teen, to dropping his gaze at the child and giving a small, “well, he gets a pass.” Going back to the other three he raised an eyebrow mockingly, “One book really bested the lot of you?”

“There were three, we caught one and I killed the other by accident,” Dirge confessed as they looked away sheepishly. “We just need to know which of these three “advisors” are garbage.”

The vampire gave a doubly exaggerated sigh as he waltzed over and plucked the damned thing from the air like a ripe fruit. He opened it sharply as if to ensure it wouldn’t fly ever again with a snap, scanned some pages, and then tossed the damaged book to Wyll.

“Suelto’s your girl. Sounds like Amaps wasn’t a fan, and his work, while a bit soft for my taste, is probably more what you were hoping for.” Astarion informed them, and pulled out a small crossbow from his back, “Unless you’d like me to do the honors?”

“Hmmm… Maybe having a book called “The Ethics of War” shoulda been a clue.” Karlach thought to herself aloud, and Wyll hung his head with a groan.

Not hearing an objection Astarion’s bolt hit the “ghost” of Suelto and the statue gave its praise. He looked disappointed at the confirmation and muttered something under his breath about not being surprised since “Justice was too soft too”.

Since the high of getting caught and caught up wore off, it was easier to see that the vampire was in far lower spirits than he’d been when he left, mildly fuming both literally and figuratively. He also had two large weapons under his cloak that hadn’t been there before.

“So, how did it go?” Shadowheart asked with a smirk and became the focus of his burning glare.

“Wizards are terrible, and the next person to accuse me of being one just because I can use magic is losing their tongue,” he seethed to himself, raising a finger to stop his partner who had a disturbing glint in their eyes at the threat. “Don’t even think it, darling, we need yours too much.”

“So, you had puzzles too?” Dirge asked instead with some amused sympathy.

“They weren’t hard, just annoying, and gods forbid I make one teensy tiny misstep and suddenly everything starts spitting FIRE!” Astarion threw his hands up in frustration.

“Serves you right,” Wyll quietly huffed.

“Speaking of things we deserve,” Astarion said with a glare at the boy before making a flourish of his cloak to help mask him pulling out a hat from under it to plop on his dragonborn’s head. “I heard this should be right up your alley.”

It sat better than most hats could on a dragonborn’s skull, but their flat head made it look constantly doffed. The modified Byco*cket only stressed how angled their face was.

But the pitiful dork’s eyes were practically shining in delight almost as strongly as Astarion’s grimace as he found his own results lacking.

“A hat that fits,” they muttered in quiet awe. “I love it.”

“Oh no, not even your beloved Furnace could save that hot mess. Give it back, pet, I’ll find you something better-” Astarion tried to reach back up for it, only for them to pull themselves up to their full height with a raised snout and a deep gravelly growl that even made him pause.

Their eyes had been barely black slits lost in roaring red flames for only a second before they seemed to catch themselves and widened back to the degree she was used to.

“Shoulda thought of that before you gave it to me!” They chirped brightly, nearly giving her whiplash from the shift, and strutted past the children in pride. “I feel great! How much was it?”

“Let’s just say whoever was supposed to be collecting their taxes is going to be in a lot of trouble,” he chuckled with a cruel smirk. “But my standing with them should be spotless!”

“Too bad your soul can’t say the same. That curse you have is certainly new,” Shadowheart teased, knowing all too well how much that was definitely his fault.

“Oh, I’m so glad you noticed! You’re a cleric, aren’t you? Mind giving me a hand with this?”

“Hmmm, I think I’m good actually.”

“Aww, c’mon Shadow, he did help us out. I mean, you’ve still got the juice for it, don’t you?” Karlach asked with a weak tired smile, and she cursed her weakness for cute tiefling girls that could break her over their knees.

“And what exactly would I be getting in exchange?”

“You know, I found the most interesting little trinket in the basem*nt of the tabernacle while I was out. I could be tempted to part with it, for a small favor~” Astarion taunted, and Wyll’s jaw dropped in shock before quietly fuming over the terrible adults the boy had aligned himself with.

“Oh, no wonder you’re cursed. You noticed and just decided to see how many you could manage to stack, didn’t you?” Shadowheart glared at the heathen’s proud shrug before shaking her head.

She offered a silent apology to Shar, but Her Lady didn’t sound offended by his crimes at all. So, she shouldn’t mind her loyal child reaping the benefits of it, right? All that is unseen, is permitted.

“Alright then, let’s get it over with. Whatever mess you got in had better be worth it,” she groused to herself as she held out a hand to accept the exchange. Astarion gave a sigh of relief when her flowing shadows banished the unwanted magic away as she checked over the jeweled amulet.

And found themselves faced with a furious Deva at trying to dodge the consequences for this fool’s actions. She faintly heard the sticky fingered idiot offer a soft “whoops”.

He was very lucky his partner could be expected to be competent where he wasn’t, and was quick to take the divine agent’s attention exclusively for themselves. She wasn’t going to be able to cast spells like this all day as she muttered a curse and brought Wyll behind her protectively.

Astarion raised a brow in Wyll’s direction, as if debating how a child would fare with his reveal, and his smile was not comforting. With a smirk he flexed a hand and toxic green light weaved around him. “Well, might as well see if the book was worth the trouble: Danse Macabre.”

A torrent of wails she knew weren’t there shrieked as four points on the ground erupted into masses of ill kept flesh and dry aged bone, reshaping themselves until four ghouls stood before them.

It’d be a lot more impressive if their summoner didn’t audibly gag at the very sight of them.

“You’re not really built for necromancy stuff, are ya pal?” Karlach teased but her teeth were more a grimace than a smile as she tried to hide how badly both they and the Deva were fraying her nerves. As young as she was, she likely hadn’t imagined ever seeing either in person.

“Oh shut it, I’ve never worked with these before! It’s not my fault some descriptions were… neglectful, when it came to smells. And appearances.” Astarion rolled his eyes with a scowl like one of “his” ghouls wasn’t already returning the favor.

Some vampire he was turning out to be.

A far cry from his near personal bhaalspawn beating the feathers off of the planar being with a Lute and more-Godly-than-you’d-think fury. Knocking it senseless felt far less daunting with them at the helm. And she wasn’t alone in that.

What she was alone in, was recognizing how “divine” this fury was. She should have expected it, with how they healed her before. That had been a paladin’s touch, not that her order had much of a use for them. But she’s seen enough of her brothers and sisters get smited to know what she saw. It just didn’t make sense, with the god she’d expect a Bhaalspawn to swear themselves to.

But if they weren’t Bhaal’s paladin, who else could they be? Who’d bother trying to poach the kin of another god, even a fallen one? And how did this thing still keep any oath like that intact?

Their oath must still be intact, unlike the few paladins that found themselves seeking Lady Shar’s guidance. Otherwise the shadow from before would have easily fallen under their command.

“Okay, if that’s not an improvised weapon I don’t know what is. My break money’s on ‘em dabbling as a Sea Storm Herald,” she heard Karlach whisper to Wyll.

“Not a chance; they’re definitely a storm sorcerer. I’ve read they tap into the weave the same way bards do, so they’d have an easier time melding into each other. Maybe the College of Swords is just a bit more literal than you’d think when it comes to their “instruments of violence”?”

“With that temper? Nah, mate. Bardbarian just rolls off the tongue!”

“No it doesn't! 10 coppers and a game of copper dragons says you’re wrong~”

“Psh, like the ol’ Ante’d go easy on you for being a kid! You’ve got a deal, Ravengard.”

She almost wanted to chide them for not taking the threat seriously, but between Astarion’s personal mob mauling the poor thing and the two bloodthirsty loons the battle was done.

Deva’s blood was still dripping from the vampire’s blade that took advantage of the chaos to slit its throat as the monster who caused this chaos started checking the poor soul for valuables. As if the celestial would have anything of note on them but the clothes off his waist-

The longing look the dragonborn was giving the glorified kilt and largely undamaged accessories wasn’t exactly boding well for their “standards”. Astarion noticed it too and gave them a gesture for them to help lead everyone else away so he could “collect” it with minimal judgment. He made a motion for his ghouls to stay in the area, as if to help remind himself too.

“Shame really isn’t our forte here, is it?” she asked the wyrmway in disappointment, and Karlach pat her on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Shame ain’t paying the rent, Shadow.” Karlach sighed, as if she had any idea just how low these two monsters were willing to sink given half a chance and something shiny.

“I think they’ve both gone too far for that excuse.” Shadowheart pointed out as the Bhaalspawn stilled over their broken prey. Their pupil’s became unfocused narrow slits and chest heaving with exertion like something either triggered them or their bloody work just caught up to them.

Astarion looked unwilling to touch them like that, so she kept a hand in front of Wyll to encourage him to keep his distance too. She let Karlach take the first tentative step.

“You alright, Akka’?” The Tiefling asked with a forced grin, and the Bhaalspawn snapping it’s head violently her way was enough to make her jump.

Shadowheart made out the words “ALL IS ASH AND MEAT!” but with the way it was snarled, the thing before them was more like a slavering beast than the person they were used to.

“Yup, they’re fine. Poltergeist’s just left the lights on, they’ll be right back,” the vampire rolled his eyes like their outburst was well expected. Giving them a breath he snapped his fingers to gauge how its head co*cked at the sound and repeated the motion until their pupils started to widen.

With a shake of their head and some slight disorientation, the dragonborn looked closer to their previous normal. Their disorientation looked worse when they saw the fear on everyone’s faces but Astarion’s bemused boredom.

They looked down at their handiwork with a worried wince and both hunger and terror in their eyes at equal measure, nearly slipping on the blood as they stumbled away from the Deva’s broken body. A wing made a sickening snap under their weight that nearly made them sick in turn, which got the vampire to offer them an almost gentlemanly hand for support.

It didn’t look like they wanted to take it, but to her it seemed all they really wanted to do was curl into a ball somewhere and forget.

She heard Karlach softly swear to herself in shock, despite their minor company.

“What was that?” Wyll asked, swallowing his fear upon seeing how much of it their “friend” shared.

“I got caught up in a bad thought, sorry.” Dirge’s eyes darted, looking for any hints to see just how bad this episode had been. “I try not to, but it’s hard to stay focused when I get riled up.”

“If you’re looking for anyone to blame for this, I’d look in your biggest mirror, Cleric,” Astarion added as he tugged them farther away from their kill. “This hadn’t been as common or vocal an occurrence before your cloister got involved.”

“That’s not fair,” Dirge chastised him, before checking their lute for damage. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always been like this. But with my memory loss I can’t remember how I used to keep it in check.”

Astarion raised a quiet brow at her that told her that was exactly why he was blaming her people for their distress. Not to mention his own, depending on how much he’s had to balance them out.

A part of her almost wanted to agree with him. It’s not like Lady Shar needed to stoop to stealing an unwilling Chosen from a dead lesser god. Letting them learn their folly on their own, taking them into Her dark embrace, and remaking a disillusioned vessel was it should have gone.

This didn’t feel like Her Lady’s orders. How else could their work have turned out this sloppy?

No. This felt like it was the result of mortal failings. Even if the Vampire Lord had asked this of them, without their Lady’s full support they never should have accepted it. They’ve rejected him before, and he’s never been fool enough to risk what few pawns he kept in an open conflict.

She wasn’t going to apologize, of course. It wasn’t her place. That was the Mother Superior’s.

Wyll offered his own soft sympathies in her stead, and she bit the inside of her lip to hold her tongue.

“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Astarion said with a softer smile as he looked at his brute’s bloodied lute, “Tell me love, which do you prefer: Axes or Mauls?”

The dragonborn glanced up in thought before down at the heavenly body with a wince. “Pretty sure with my track record I’m more for the “mauling”. Why?”

“Then here you go, darling," the vampire replied as he pulled the maul from his back, and Dirge echoed the name “Foebreaker” embossed on the weapon’s head with approval.

“You using the other one, Fangs?” Karlach asked with a hopeful grin.

Seeing her question for the request it was, the vampire wasn’t amused. “I wasn’t but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t fetch me a good price.”

“C’mon, what’s the harm? She works for Gortash, and he’s always good on his debts if he feels this will make him owe us something.” Dirge grinned down at him playfully.

“What good would trading a weapon we do know with some dealer for one that we won’t?”

“He’s not just “some dealer”, he’s a craftsman! You’ve seen the work he can do! I’ve never heard you complain about how Stillmaker turned out.” The vampire’s eyes widened like he made a dire mistake, though his chuckling companion didn’t notice in their beaming pride. “So, why keep a weapon I won’t use when we can trade it for one that you might?”

Astarion stayed oddly quiet but passed the greataxe over to the tiefling who squealed in delight when the double sided blade caught ablaze with hellish hues.

“Holy sh*t this is cool!” she squeed to herself.

“It better be, they were particularly tricky with that one.” The vampire complained softly. “They hid it behind an enchanted door, if it hadn’t burnt down in that whole mess I would have missed the room it should have physically led to completely. At least everything else was a matter of false walls, like my Master favors, or invisibility enchantments that I already took care of with a potion.”

“... Is the fire also what happened to Casket?” The dragonborn asked like they just swallowed a sour lemon whole.

“Ehhh, I might have needed her to get me out of a Djinni’s lamp.” He looked off to the side before giving his partner a pinched smile. “She’s probably fine, I mean… It broke when I dismissed her!”

“Oh thank the gods, I was afraid you were trying to hide that you didn’t actually know how to do that,” Dirge laughed out a relieved sigh, as he put a hand to his chest like they stung him.

“Did you get a wish out of it?” Wyll asked with his eyes practically shining at the word “Djinni”.

“Obviously not.” Astarion scowled as he crossed his arms, “Ungrateful thing just tried to leave me trapped as a “reward” for helping it get free. You really can’t trust anything these days.”

Wyll looked like he was wondering if he should believe the vampire had been “innocent” this time, but he seemed to land in favor of believing him. Dirge led the way to the final test chamber, where Karlach chose to test her nex axe a bit too eagerly on some crystals that had grown in the way.

“Oh, great. Chess. Should have seen that coming.” Astarion rolled his eyes.

“Looks more like Lanceboard to me!” Wyll chimed in as he rushed to take in the pieces larger than he was.

“Apologies then, so we’ll be playing as Mystra and Elminster to best Cyric and Razor’s Edge, or what have you?” Astarion asked with some very clear annoyance weighing down his words.

“What, no. That’s not what Father calls them at all.” Wyll shook his head in confusion. “That’s a King, and that’s a Queen, and that’s a rook-”

“SO IT IS CHESS!” Astarion snapped in frustration, to Wyll’s maintained point about this being “Lanceboard”.

“Oh no, at this rate the elf’s going to start calling it “Crowns” or whatever just to show off to a child,” Shadowheart quietly bemoaned to the other two who were very lost.

Astarion spun to face her with a twitchy glare and nearly growled through his teeth, “You mean Coroniir, half-elf. If you want to play that game with me, do it right!”

“I thought we were playing Chess?” Dirge asked as they tilted their head in confusion, to which Karlach corrected/asked if it was Lanceboard. Astarion couldn’t decide which to glare at harder.

Shadowheart cleared her throat and risked triggering the newest demands of a statue of Balduran contemplating a… horse shaped piece of this board game which will not be labeled.

Which… Now that attention was drawn to it, the statue didn’t label the game either. Only that he was calling some pieces “Kings” and “Pawns”. Perhaps a wise decision on the testmaker’s part, with the game’s incredibly long history.

“At least it won’t even take to moves. Send the white rook to the back row and we can call it a day.” Astarion sighed and Karlach quietly moved herself between him and Wyll when the kid started shaking his head.

“I don’t think so; our rook’s pinned.” Wyll, not caring about the vampire’s temper or the tiefling’s attempt to protect him walked across the oversized board to stand by a black bishop. “See? If the rook moves, this guy’s going to take our king so we’ll lose!”

Astarion did swallow some pride at that, nodding a tense agreement. “Fine. Technically, it’d be an illegal move in the first place then.”

Dirge on the other hand strode behind the black king and raised their maul against it as if to ask if they could try a more “direct” approach.

“W-what, no! Come on, it’s not going to be that hard, I’m sure!” Wyll was quick to argue despite Astarion eagerly nodding his approval.

They did lower the maul, but only enough to rest it on their shoulder, “Fine. But if we screw up twice, I get the last attempt, yeah?”

“He did specify there were no rules aside from making the king fall in two moves.” Shadowheart quietly pointed out, to Wyll’s distress.

“That doesn’t mean we should cheat! It’s about strategy!”

“And on a real battlefield, sometimes the most successful strategies are the least expected.” Astarion teased, though seeing the boy glare daggers up at him did make him smile enough to relent. “I made my guess, and you spared us all the mistake, so it’s your try.”

Wyll straightened and put on his most determined face as he wandered around the lanceboard, checking which pieces could go where and occasionally asking Karlach to help him visualize things. Shadowheart chose to pull Dirge aside to let the boy have a fair chance.

“About that spell from before,” she began to make sure she had their attention, “I… Might’ve been too hasty to assume your magic wasn’t suited for it. I’ve heard “Te absolvo” or “Vincere est vivere” said to invoke a Lesser Restoration; just focus on helping the subject return to their “truest” state, rather than linger on an injury like a normal healing spell does.”

Dirge nodded like an eager student as they echoed the words, not that there was any magic behind it beyond trying to set them into memory. It looked like they wanted to ask her what changed her mind, but the sound of the black king piece falling to pieces interrupted that.

Wyll beamed proudly at them from beside the white queen as the statue approved his victory, having proved to bear the “heroes wit”.

Dirge to their credit still looked rather disappointed they didn’t get to smash it. But Astarion whispering compliments for their plan seemed to help as the others headed back to the primary room. With the four tests cleared they were allowed into the next chamber, where a standard statue of Balduran summarized their efforts to unlock a door depicting a great dragon’s head.

For all Wyll said about bards not having lightning in their songbooks, the mood he caused was certainly electric. He and Karlach were practically buzzing, but almost like the crest of a wave their dragonborn lost their enthusiasm. Their eyes were as cold as a red flame could be.

“I don’t hear anything.” Their voice was soft but solemn as a warning.

“Not even a heartbeat.” Astarion agreed beside them with a face on the curious side of suspicion, before forcing a smile and a cough like he needed to clear his throat, “though, I’m no expert in how dragons work, or their lairs! It’s not like there’s not magic that could explain it.”

Shadowheart wasn’t sure who that was really for. She didn’t need to be comforted, and she wasn’t sure the pep squad heard the two in the first place. Though if it was for the kids, it was a kind effort.

Reality was rarely kind. But rarely was that unkindness the sight of a dragon’s long dead corpse.

“No f*ckin’ way,” Karlach swore softly, “H-how? Dragon’s don’t just up and die naturally, right?!”

“Don’t go anywhere near the body!” Dirge snapped with a tone deeper than Shadowheart had heard from them before. Their eyes were darting around the den, and their vicious scowl deepened as they couldn’t find what they expected.

“It’s hardly like we need to worry about “protecting the crime scene”, love,” Astarion’s tone was a mildly vexed taunt, but he went on alert the second their pitch dropped. But not about the state of the dragon’s deathbed as much as it was toward Dirge themselves. “Shall I check for traps?”

“Not my biggest concern. This wasn’t done by looters. This was a betrayal,” The dragonborn stated like a fact, “Every challenge was intact when we reached them to go through these doors; nearly every solution made their test look to be the “single use” sort. Thurisvant eth donsjeret.”

Shadowheart couldn’t guess at the phrase, but apparently the vampire could enough to scoff with a smug smirk. “”A den without escape routes will end up a tomb soon enough”, you mean?”

“N-not exactly, I was paraphrasing the proverb back then.” They answered looking bashful that he remembered whatever led to the previous use. But their pupils stayed dangerously narrow as their eyes did the same regarding an altar behind the decaying dragon. “”Every lair has two ways out”, it normally means there’s always more than one solution. Here it’s also literal.”

Wyll nodded along as he started to see the logic. “Whoever killed Ansur was either someone who helped him establish the “tests” in the first place, so they could set everything back up, or- or- or…” The young boy swallowed uncomfortably as he was torn between looking away from the dead or taking in the horrific sight with watering eyes.

“Or they knew him well enough to use the easier way in, which is why Ansur didn’t escape. He might have even been killed in his sleep.” Shadowheart said as Karlach took in a sharp breath.

The way she looked at the beast betrayed how much closer she wanted to get, but Karlach took orders well for her age and took to the back of the room instead. Shadowheart followed suit as Dirge and Astarion took the left and right sides respectively.

Karlach hesitated when she saw the helm on the altar, but Shadowheart could easily tell there weren’t any traps to be wary about. The tiefling lifting it soon revealed the alternative path Dirge was looking for, as the removed weight revealed a new set of doors.

Shadowheart gave the piece of armor a closer look, but while there was a powerful enchantment there she couldn’t recognize anything else of note. “Maybe this was left behind by the killer with a familiar or mage hand, so their exit would be sealed behind them?”

Karlach didn’t say a word as she stared at it like she did know what this could be. Horror and dread clear as day in her wide eyes as she focused on breathing and getting back to Wyll.

“Is that… Balduran’s helm?” He softly asked like the question hurt. “How would they have this?”

“Maybe he’d already given it to his little dragon, to keep as part of its “hoard”?” Astarion offered as he started heading back. Giving a look to the otherwise empty room he added with a derisive snort, “not that it seemed to be something this dragon cared much about. Such a shame…”

Dirge on the other hand approached the corpse against the previous warning, seemingly content that this would be the only means of answers left and they had an escape route available now.

They proved their instincts were right the first time, as magic poured from the beast’s bones into their own. It quickly overtook their body making a bright fiery azure glow emanate from inside them the way the eerie green energy of necromancy would upon a questioned corpse.

“What in the hells is going on?!” Astarion sputtered as he turned his attention to Shadowheart, “If this is a spirit, can’t you stop it?!”

“I-I don’t know- It’s a dragon- With how long it’s been dead I wasn’t expecting-” Shadowheart only got out as fractured false starts as she tried to understand the magic unfolding before them.

“Why are you here, Vrak?” A deep booming voice unlike any Dirge had used came from their voice, their body hanging in the air like a strung up puppet. But if the question was for the dragonborn this spirit had possessed, it didn’t look like they could answer.

“I-it was my idea.” Wyll spoke up, despite shaking like a leaf. “I found a book about you, but the story was so old, I- I wasn’t sure if you were still here.”

“... Tell me that’s a halfling.” The undead dragon asked through their misbegotten dragonborn in a way that didn’t really feel wrong for them. But there was no denying the unnatural glow of possession on them, even if she was more used to sickly greens than this bright blue.

“No, that’s a human child.” The vampire informed them with too much glee for anyone’s comfort.

“Y-yeah, and since I’m why we’re here you should let them go!” Wyll said as Karlach put him on her shoulders and he tried to puff chest. “I found your story, we solved the riddles, and I even beat your lanceboard game without a single mistake! So, l-leave them alone! P-please, sir?”

“He did most of the thinking stuff, and would’ve even faced the elements with nothing but your torch if Shadow didn’t beat him to it.” Karlach agreed proudly.

The draconic spirit murmured a soft apology to Bahamut for not having stronger safeguards. In the next breath he thanked his Lord for the foresight to only have one trial with combat that could have ended this naive life.

Wyll’s voice caught in his throat but he coughed past it. “I… I brought them here ‘cause I was worried. It said you were waiting down here all by yourself, so I- I wanted to make sure you were okay. Nothing bad’s going on or anything! Which was why I thought you might not mind visitors.”

Astarion pulled a face and waved a non-committal hand to the undead dragon. He had better not have been trying to goad into clawing its way to the surface “just to check”. Shadowheart shook her own head firmly in hopes of balancing his sass out to let the dead STAY at rest.

The dragon puppeting the dragonborn looked lost for words but ignored both the elves’ antics. He shook his head sadly at the child’s empathy.

“I wish I could believe that, child. But I’m proof Balduran’s city is in more danger than you realize.”

“Why, what happened?” Karlach asked in an impassioned rush. “You’re a goddamn dragon, what could have done this to you?!”

“Looks like a sword to me.” Shadowheart pointed out, seeing the metal still caught between the ancient beast’s decayed ribs. Astarion smiling at her joke made her immediately regret it.

“You know what I mean!” Karlach snapped.

The dragon took a deep suffered breath. “He is who I’m worried about. The faessi he’s become.”

“If you won’t be straight with us, the least you could do is give us back the one person here who knows draconic!” The elf spat in an annoyance that betrayed his worry.

Ansur’s ghost glared at him but wavered like it saw something familiar. Something it wasn’t sure how to feel about anymore, with a brief soft look quickly consumed by one bitter and pained.

“Did Balduran do this to you?” Shadowheart asked carefully. “I can see why he’d lie about your fate.”

“My Balduran is long dead. He had tried to make me leave him to his cursed fate, but I refused. I tried too hard to ignore the truth, hoping there was something that could be done to save him.” Ansur’s voice kept that bitterness. “But the monster that’s stolen him likely still haunts his city.”

“A… “Fae-si”?” Wyll echoed, but the dragon shook its borrowed head.

“No, it is worse than a coward. It saw the only salvation I could bring my Balduran and chose to kill me in my own home. After it had claimed to need time to consider my offer, “for old time’s sake”.” The dragon mourned. “It enjoyed what it had become too much to want to be saved.”

Dirge’s red eyes flashed past the spector’s for a moment, looking at Astarion like they had seen a glimpse of Balduran as Ansur had known him and was trying to see any similarity. Ansur’s blue flames were back before they were allowed to speak, Ansur’s voice trembling with fury. “I had given him everything, and I was repaid in slaughter! So that illithid that consumed his soul could continue to dishonor HIS legacy!”

Wyll hushed Karlach’s immediate “The what?” with a gentle tap on her horn, scared eyes true to his age. “Balduran’s a Mindflayer?”

Ansur nodded, “I fear his city- our city- is little more than a convenient hunting ground for it now.”

“Where would he be hiding?” Karlach asked firmly. “It’s just the one, yeah? No colony, right?”

“What are you asking, child of Zariel?”

“Our friend you’ve got is real good at killing things. They might enjoy the hunt if you give ‘em the chance.” She said with a dangerous grin. “Sounds like the bastard’s had this coming for a while.”

“I’ve heard the Knights of the Shield may have a Mindflayer pulling their strings.” Astarion added cautiously, looking oddly at Wyll more than Ansur. “One that had gotten its tentacles in one of the Dukes to make her its puppet, and did quite the number on her in the process.”

“You mean, Lady Stelmane?” Wyll asked with wide eyes, and shook his head to gather his thoughts. “If we kill him- it, would she get better?”

Shadowheart jabbed an elbow into Astarion’s side before he could crush the boy’s hopes too badly. “It can be hard to know with these things, but it might make her condition more treatable.”

Astarion glared at her for ruining his fun, but tried to play it off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “At the very least we’d be keeping the poor thing from being eaten outright.” He gave a grin as he added, “As long as there’s something you can do to help us clean up your mess of course.”

“Seriously, Fangs?!” Karlach scolded, but the dragon made a thoughtful sound.

“A fair request. Those who proved worthy may take from my hoard to see their namesake be put to rest at long last; Balduran’s Giantslayer and his Helm from before his fall.”

Astarion half opened his mouth to argue, but recognized he was the only one who might not qualify. With his vanity and fighting style, he probably didn’t even want those things.

She knew she didn’t, and with Karlach’s horns only the sword could do her any good.

Karlach put Wyll down so she could see him try the helm on and laughed when it proved just too large for Wyll’s head. He didn’t seem to mind that too terribly as he readjusted it.

Karlach herself gave Dirge a concerned look as she passed their puppetted body to stand before the dragon. She said something softly, with the serious tone of an oath, that the dragon(born) nodded to. With their blessing she took out the sword, and looked disturbed by what she found.

From what Shadowheart remembered the legends described it as a beautiful blade of elvish craftsmanship despite its massive size. But this thing looked almost visceral, with organic bulging masses on the warped blade and what appeared to be small rows of teeth growing on its hilt. Like even the metal itself developed a vicious cancer from how far its master had fallen.

Was this a reflection of who Balduran always was, despite the idealized stories or this fool of a dragon’s claims, or proof of the illithid’s ability to taint all that once bore his name with pride?

“When he was still my Balduran, he had a sanctuary under the Elfsong Tavern.” The dragon told Karlach, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it had taken advantage of its ties to the city’s sewers to remain unnoticed. Please, don’t allow any others to suffer for my elf’s folly at Moonrise Tower.”

“Is there anything in the city that doesn’t have something hiding under it? Maybe some entrance to the underdark I should’ve been made aware of in the 200 YEARS I’VE LIVED HERE?!” Astarion’s petulant whining gave way to a shriek of exasperation.

Shadowheart kept her mouth shut as the Sharran Cloister came to mind. More to not risk his ego growing from predicting Her Dark Lady’s secret than dealing with more of this temper tantrum.

But at this point even she had to idly wonder the same; “the undercity” of Baldur’s Gate was feeling more and more like an understatement.

“Was “Moonrise” where the colony was?” Shadowheart asked.

“Wasn’t that near Reithwin?” Astarion looked almost thoughtful, “It’s been well over a century since I’ve been in those parts. I’ve got a sister from there, though the local tavern was terrible.”

“For good reason, it’s been cursed for nearly as long.” Wyll pointed out with a look of deep concentration. “Nobody knows why it’s still there, the caster was thought to have been killed not long after causing it. Father’s sent scouts to check on it sometimes, but it’s still not letting up.”

“That was where his last strike of wanderlust had sent him; where I found the Elder Brain that had enslaved what little was left of him. I… Couldn’t leave him in such a state. I thought I could help him.” The dragon mourned despite its well won hate. Shar would be pleased by his grief.

Shadowheart didn’t think she was. But she had heard of this tower before. It might be named for that wretch of a moon witch, but the shadowlands surrounding it were one of Lady Shar’s greatest blessings. Not to mention the temple to her that was said to have been even older.

Even if The Lady of Sorrow hadn’t wiped out the alien interlopers in the last century with her shadows, that is still holy ground Shadowheart had once longed to see for herself. That’s far more compelling than any lovesick lizard-lich’s unfinished business.

But… did she still want to see it? If Nibbles, a “pet” that Lady Shar wouldn’t approve of her having in the first place, was right and she did have a family that her Mother- Viconia, had stolen away-

Her hand burned like her scar was full of ice, and the pain shooting from it to the rest of her felt like it was shaving away parts of her very soul. Lady Shar was right, she shouldn’t be questioning herself like this.

She caught Karlach looking at her with worry, but she tried to compose herself.

Shadowheart wasn’t sure if she might have missed something said during her punishment, but it looked like the dragon was letting go of their dragonborn. Their red eyes were distant, but more like they were trying to catch up rather than being lost to whatever madness their father had cursed them with.

As they tested their control of their limbs, they said something softly in draconic that Ansur hadn’t really agreed with. At least it wasn’t an affront to him enough for him to steal their body again.

A reply to whatever they had said echoed through the room like retreating thunder, and Dirge scowled in distaste at whatever it meant.

“So, if we want to put him to rest, at least it won’t be far, right?” Dirge lightly teased their vampire, but they couldn’t hide how drained the dragon’s possession had left them.

It looked to her like the vampire had wanted to embrace them, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch them. His eyes were distant too, like cornered prey.

“You leave this mess to us, got it?” Karlach told Wyll firmly as he held Balduran’s helmet like a stuffed toy. “If we can’t handle it, then we can get your dad involved. But with mindflayers, I’ve heard that it’s better to go after them in small groups.” She gave a shaky breath, “Even four might be too many.”

Wyll nodded quietly, as she started to lead them through the passage Balduran’s helm had sealed. Turns out it left them right next to the chest they had found before, and some curious Fists were already waiting there for the boy’s return.

It was easy for Shadowheart to break away from the others as she tried to process the things she’s learned. She’d never been more grateful to find Nocturne not far from where she had left her.

She wished she could remember if she ever dreaded returning “home” this much too.