'I'm like what he say fuck me for?'
...
Fin's POV
Stars.
Actual honest-to-gods stars exploded behind my eyes as my skull met the stone floor. I lay there for a second. Or five. Or a whole minute. Hard to tell.
Karlach loomed over me, fists clenched, chest heaving as her engine clanked away.
"FIN."
That one word had weight.
"I can explain," I croaked, still lying down.
Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose so hard I was worried she might actually crack bone. Wyll looked between me and Minthara like he was reassessing every decision that had led him here. Alfira had fully retreated behind Halsin's massive bear flank, peeking out like a terrified child watching a tavern brawl.
Halsin rumbled.
Displeased. Very displeased.
Karlach heaved me up by one hand by the collar of my haori. My feet barely touched the ground.
"Start talking," she said. "Now."
"Okay. So. First of all. Grove's safe."
Her eye twitched.
"Second," I continued quickly, "nobody died because of her."
Another twitch.
"Third," I added, rushing it, "this was the only way to recruit her without committing mass murder."
Dead silence.
Wyll blinked. "…Recruit her."
"Yes."
Shadowheart's eyes sharpened. "You're saying this like it was a foregone conclusion."
I nodded. "It was."
Karlach slowly set me back on my feet. Slowly enough that I knew she was choosing restraint.
"You kidnapped," she said carefully, "the drow leader of these goblins."
"Yes."
"To recruit her."
"Yes."
"Without telling anyone."
"…Yes."
She stared at me for a long moment. The engine in her chest flared once, then settled.
Then she laughed.
A sharp, incredulous bark of a laugh that startled everyone.
"I don't know whether to punch you again," she said, "or hug you for having the biggest balls I've ever seen."
Shadowheart crossed her arms. "I vote punch."
"Seconded," Wyll said faintly.
Alfira squeaked. "Thirded?"
Halsin snorted.
I raised my hands. "Look. I know how this sounds. But Minthara isn't some mindless fanatic. She's dangerous, yes. Fanatical, also yes. But how different is she to us?" I continued. "If we didn't have that artifact to protect us, we'd be right by her side spewing the same Absolute bull."
That finally got their attention.
Shadowheart tilted her head. "You plan to break her faith."
"Not break," I corrected. "Just convince her of the truth, without the Absolute in her head."
Wyll inhaled sharply. "Fin… do you realise what you're suggesting?"
"Yes," I said quietly. "And I know it works."
Halsin shifted, the bear form melting away into his massive elven frame. His expression was grave, eyes locked onto Minthara.
"There is no doubt she has led raids that slaughtered innocents," he said. "You cannot simply… turn such a person."
"I can," I replied.
They all looked at me.
I exhaled. "I beat her. Cleanly. Alone. In her own camp. Destroyed the scrying eye. Took her down without killing a single goblin in the process."
Karlach whistled under her breath.
"She respects strength," I continued. "And she despises weakness. The Absolute preys on both. Once she realises it lied to her… once the cracks form… she'll turn."
Shadowheart studied Minthara's face. "And if she doesn't?"
I met her gaze. "Then I deal with it."
Karlach clapped her hands once, sharp and loud.
"Well," she said, grinning despite herself, "this is officially the weirdest rescue mission I've ever been on."
She looked down at Minthara.
"…So where are we keeping the murder-drow?"
I smiled, rubbing my bruised jaw.
"Camp," I said.
Shadowheart sighed. "Of course we are."
Alfira raised her hand timidly. "Um. Hypothetically. If she wakes up… and tries to kill us…"
"I'll handle it," I said.
Karlach smirked. "You'd better. Because if she tries anything funny—"
She cracked her knuckles. Flames flickered.
"—round two's on me."
...
We decided to sneak out of the grove to camp, with Halsin staying behind to wait for us.
"We move now," I said.
Karlach nodded immediately. Shadowheart hesitated. Wyll looked between Halsin and Minthara like he was weighing which problem would explode first.
Halsin exhaled slowly.
"You will take her," he said, eyes never leaving Minthara's unconscious form. "And I will remain."
Karlach frowned. "You sure, big guy? You could come with us. We can keep her tied up, gagged, whatever you want."
He shook his head. "If I leave now, the goblins regroup and the Grove suffers for it."
His gaze hardened.
"I will ensure that does not happen."
Shadowheart stepped closer to him. "You're staying behind. Alone. In enemy territory."
Halsin met her stare calmly. "I am not alone. Nature has many teeth."
Karlach snorted. "Remind me never to piss off trees."
I shifted Minthara's weight on my shoulder. She stirred faintly, but did not wake.
"We won't be long," I said.
Halsin finally looked at me then.
"You carry a dangerous conviction," he said. "One that bends people around it."
"Is that a warning?" I asked.
"No," he replied. "An observation."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"If she turns on you, I will not mourn her."
"That's fair," I said.
"If she turns on the grove," he continued, "I will not forgive you."
I held his gaze. "She won't."
A long pause.
Halsin nodded once. Final.
"Go," he said. "I will hold this place until dawn. After that, the goblins will have other problems."
Karlach grinned. "Remind me to send flowers."
Halsin did not smile.
We moved fast after that.
...
Only once we were far enough that even Karlach relaxed did Wyll finally speak.
"This is either the smartest thing you've ever done," he said quietly, "or the worst."
I adjusted Minthara's weight again. My shoulder ached.
"Those aren't mutually exclusive," I replied.
Karlach barked a laugh. Shadowheart glanced back once toward the distant camp, where Halsin still waited.
"He better be alive when we return," she said.
"He will be," I answered.
It'll be interesting how the game's logic will work here.
Minthara exhaled softly in her sleep, camp lights flickered ahead through the trees.
...
The sun was just setting as we entered camp. The moment my boot crossed the edge, Astarion appeared from nowhere, leaning casually against a tree, arms folded, posture loose.
He had that look on his face.
"Well. That took longer than expected." He tilted his head, looking past my face.
Then locking onto the unconscious drow slung over my shoulder.
"And here I was thinking you'd gone off to pick flowers."
He stepped closer, circling slightly, inspecting Minthara like a particularly interesting corpse.
"Tell me, darling. Is this a new fashion statement, or are we abducting people now?"
"Don't start." Karlach groaned.
Astarion smiled wider. "Oh, I absolutely will."
I shifted Minthara's weight again. "She's unconscious"
"Yes, I noticed. Very considerate of you."
Durge emerged from the shadows between the tents, pale scales catching the last scraps of light. Her eyes flicked to me first. Then followed my line of sight.
Then stopped.
Durge stared.
For a long second.
"Why is there a drow on your shoulder."
"Long story."
Durge's gaze lingered. Something dark flickered behind her eyes. Interest. Hunger?
Hard to tell with her.
"Is she alive?"
Wyll answered before I could.
"Yes. For now."
Durge nodded slowly, as if filing that information away for later use.
Then Lae'zel stepped into view from the other side of camp, armor clinking softly as she approached. Her yellow eyes snapped immediately to the unfamiliar silhouette slumped over my shoulder.
"Explain."
One word. Flat. Demanding.
I sighed. "Yes, we kidnapped someone."
Lae'zel's hand drifted closer to her weapon.
"A drow. Bound. Unconscious. From the enemy camp"
She looked at me like she was trying to decide whether to praise me or gut me.
"You are either very brave… or very foolish, istik"
Astarion clasped his hands together.
"Oh good. We're taking bets now."
Shadowheart stepped past me. "She's Minthara. One of the goblin leaders."
That did it.
"You bring a True Soul into our camp." Lae'zel spat.
"Not a True Soul anymore."
That earned me multiple looks at once.
Durge tilted her head. "You removed the parasite."
"Not yet." I chuckled.
"Oh, that's comforting.
Karlach crossed her arms, engine ticking louder as the night air cooled. "She's staying tied up. One wrong move and I knock her teeth out."
"Again?" Astarion joked
"Again."
Lae'zel considered Minthara in silence, then gave a short nod. " Wake her later. I wish to hear her scream when she realizes where she is."
Shadowheart perked up "We can torture her?"
Wyll intervened. "We are not torturing her."
Shadowheart rolled her eyes.
"Then I will simply watch." Lae'zel said.
Durge's gaze never left Minthara. "Interesting choice, Fin."
There was something unreadable in her tone. Approval, maybe.
I finally lowered Minthara onto a bedroll near the edge of camp, tying her wrists and ankles. She shifted slightly, still deep under.
The fire crackled.
I faced the group, "Look, just relax. Get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be… complicated."
"Darling, tomorrow promised to be complicated the moment you walked in carrying a drow like a prize deer." Astarion chuckled softly.
I straightened, rubbing my shoulder, eyes drifting to Minthara's sleeping form.
"...Yeah" I sighed.
...
I looked down to the screen before me.
[System Roll – 250 PP]
[Current PP Balance: 952]
It seemed kidnapping Minthara had rewarded me with some extra PP.
I left camp later into the evening.
The forest swallowed sound the moment I crossed the treeline. Firelight faded behind me, replaced by cool air and the quiet hum of insects waking for the night. I set the training dummy between two trees, rope tight, posture stiff. A crude thing made of burlap and straw, but it would do.
I took a breath.
Then another.
Cursed energy flowed first. It wrapped my limbs, sank into muscle and bone.
I raised my hand.
Igni. Fire burst from my palm and tore upward into the canopy, heat rolled back over me. I followed with another.
And another.
Igni into the air. Igni until my arm burned and my breathing roughened.
Good.
I moved faster. Footwork next. I flash-stepped. Tree to tree. Left, right, pivot, stop. The forest blurred as I pushed speed into my legs, cursed energy holding my joints together.
I landed, crouched, then launched again.
Too slow.
I stopped, chest rising and falling, sweat slicking my back.
My hand drifted to my inventory.
Mei Mei's battle axe materialized, the haft solid in my grip. The blade catching moonlight. It felt wrong in my hands at first. Too heavy. No finesse to hide behind.
I squared up in front of the dummy.
Novice swordplay. That was it. Some training from my mother years ago.
My grip tightened.
Swing.
The axe bit into the dummy's shoulder with a dull thud. Straw spilled. I reset, adjusted my stance, tried again.
Awkward.
Again.
Again.
My breathing grew harsher. Muscles strained under unfamiliar weight.
I could feel this anger building up. I swung again, this time missing entirely.
"STUPID FUCKING AXE!" I yelled out before throwing it with all my strength into the forest ahead after the blow sent the dummy's head tumbling free.
I then pulled out my inventory, looking at a certain item.
Helga's Greatsword.
Selecting it, the weapon virtualised into my hand. It was heavy, my arms dipped instinctively as I compensated, feet sliding half an inch into the dirt.
"…Yeah," I muttered. "That tracks."
How Helga had been able to swing this thing around was a testament to her strength.
The greatsword came up in a wide arc, muscles screaming as I found the balance point. I faced the headless dummy and stepped forward.
The first swing was ugly.
The blade dipped too low, carving a trench through dirt before clipping the dummy's torso. Straw burst free. I clicked my tongue.
Again.
I adjusted my grip, remembered Helga's advice. Wide base. Shoulders squared. Weight forward, not back.
Swing.
Better.
The blade carved clean through the dummy's midsection, the impact vibrating up my arms and into my teeth. I absorbed it, breathed through it, forced my body to settle instead of recoil.
I didn't smile.
Again.
Each swing came faster than the last, but there was rhythm there. Something that didn't feel like I was borrowing strength from something else.
Sweat rolled down my spine.
My arms burned.
Good.
I pushed cursed energy into my muscles, not flooding the blade, just reinforcing myself. The dummy shuddered with each strike, rope creaking louder now, fibers tearing.
I stopped.
My breath fogged in the cool air.
I looked down at the sword.
At Helga's sword.
She'd made this thing sing with brute force and will alone. Every swing had meant something.
I tightened my grip.
"Guess I've got a long way to go," I murmured.
A presence pressed against my awareness before the sound came.
"You hold the blade like a hatchling clutching its first bone."
I did not turn.
She leaned against a tree a few steps back, one boot braced against the bark, arms folded across her chest. Moonlight caught the ridges of her skin and the sharp lines of her face. Her eyes were fixed on my hands, not my expression.
"Your stance bleeds intention. Your grip bleeds uncertainty. A sword does not forgive this," Lae'zel said.
I exhaled slowly through my nose. "You stalking me now?"
"I observe. Weakness that goes uncorrected becomes liability."
She stopped beside the ruined dummy, nudged it with her boot, watching it sway.
"You lack discipline of the blade. Your cuts wander and your hips hesitate. Your balance collapses at the moment of impact."
Her gaze lifted to me.
"You fight better without steel."
I scoffed. "Great. Love the vote of confidence."
"This is not mockery. It is assessment." She gestured vaguely toward my hands. "Your fists strike with certainty. Your body understands violence. The blade interrupts your instinct instead of extending it."
I turned then, meeting her stare. "So what. I should punch gods and monsters forever."
Lae'zel's lips twitched. Not quite a smile. "If it kills them, yes." She folded her arms again. "Githyanki train from blood-memory. Blade, mind, and purpose forged together under the Undying Queen. You have none of this. You wield steel like a borrowed name."
That one hit closer than it should have.
"And you think I care what a space lizard thinks," I spat.
Her eyes sharpened, but her voice remained even. "You care enough to bristle. That is proof of truth."
I looked back at the sword resting against the ground, then at my hands.
"…Fine," I muttered.
I reached into my inventory and pulled out two plain longswords I'd picked up on the road.
I turned and tossed one.
She caught it without looking.
Lae'zel examined the blade briefly, thumb brushing the edge, then gave a quiet huff that might have been amusement. "You seek humiliation, istik."
"I only want to learn from the knowledgeable githyanki," I said sarcastically.
That earned me a sharp glance.
Lae'zel rolled the sword once in her palm, testing the balance, then nodded as if it had passed some internal standard.
"Very well. I will carve truth into you."
She stepped into the clearing, stance widening, posture shifting instantly. Gone was the idle observer. This was a githyanki warrior now.
I raised my blade.
Basic form. I knew it. She knew it. The forest probably knew it.
"Do not posture. Strike."
I moved first.
Too slow.
Her sword snapped out, tapping my wrist hard enough to rattle bone.
"Dead."
I barely recovered before she stepped in again, blade sliding past mine and stopping an inch from my throat.
"Dead again."
I gritted my teeth and reset. "You're enjoying this."
"Correction. I am teaching."
She came at me properly this time.
Her movement was ruthless. Short steps. No wasted motion.
I raised my blade again.
She did not bother parrying properly.
Lae'zel surged forward instead, inside my range before my arms could adjust. Her sword struck mine at the flat, not with force, but precision. The angle was wrong and the leverage was perfect.
The longsword was ripped clean from my hand.
It spun once through the air and landed in the dirt behind me with a dull thud.
I barely had time to register it before she was there.
Too close.
Her chest brushed mine as she stepped in, sword already lowered, her presence filling my space completely. One gloved hand came up, bracing against my shoulder, not to strike, but to hold me in place.
"Dead."
Her voice was low.
I did not move.
Then she leaned in.
Not to threaten. Not to finish it.
She inhaled slowly.
Her brow furrowed, nostrils flaring slightly as she drew in my scent. Her grip tightened by a fraction.
"…Tch."
I blinked. "What."
She pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes narrowed, expression unreadable.
"You reek of violence and heat."
I scoffed, despite myself.
"Wow, you're not smelling any nicer, gith."
Her lips twitched. Barely.
"It is distracting."
The forest felt suddenly very quiet.
She did not step away.
Neither did I.
We stood there, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her, close enough that my breath brushed her cheek when I exhaled. Her gaze flicked briefly to my mouth.
Then back to my eyes.
No warning.
She grabbed my collar and pulled me down.
The kiss was sharp and forceful, teeth grazing, all heat and intent. No hesitation. No softness. I reacted on instinct, one hand coming up to her waist, pulling her closer as she pressed in, stealing breath and balance all at once.
When she finally broke away, her forehead rested briefly against mine, breath steady, controlled, like the spar had never cost her anything.
"You fight poorly with steel." Her hand ran down my chest. "But your body understands conquest."
She paused, her hand then laid on my groin.
"Tonight may prove… instructive."
You can probably guess what happened next.
...
End of Chapter.