Chapter Text
Dreamless sleep embraces you after you found yourself in Gaz’s tent last night, his presence keeping the nightmares at bay, or at least that’s what you think when you wake the next morn. Sun streaks through the tan walls of the tent, flittering across your face and causing you to wiggle and squirm, trying to keep the rays out of your eyes, not full ready to wake just yet. Though it is in vain, as Gaz’s body is pinning you in place, not allowing you to move out of the way of the sun, making you yawn, and sleepily blink open your eyes.
That’s when the situation fully hits you, the weight pinning your body, what you at first thought was Gaz’s wing, is a pair of pale scarred hands firmly locked around your waist. Gaz’s bed roll is folded neatly near your head, meaning the hands grabbing you weren’t him. Your brain starts to enter fight to flight as you can’t seem to make out who is pinning you to the ground, their head slotted between your horns, making it impossible to turn your head at all. You start to thrash harder, determined to go down with a fight, when a heavily accented sleep laced voice starts to mumble into your hair.
“Nae… Nae mornin’ yet… Jus’ few mor’ moments plea’e?” The arms in circle you tighter, squeezing you closer. You freeze, brain finally putting two and two together, its Johnny, he said that after his watch he would sleep in either Gaz’s or Price’s tent. You sigh in relief as Johnny nuzzles into your hair with a contented hum.
You try your best to relax back into the embrace of the barbarian behind you, but the more awake part of your brain screams at you to get up and do something. Bones creaking with sleep, and the desire to stretch like a large lazy cat wins out. Once Johnny had settled back down, arms going slack as he falls back asleep, you gently pry yourself out of his arms, replacing yourself with with Gaz’s bed roll, which seems to placate the sleeping barbarian. You make sure that he is tucked into his own bed roll, before quietly exiting the tent and basking in the warmth of the midmorning sun.
You stretch out, hands and arms reaching up over your head, tail curling up into a spiral as your back creaks and cracks back into place. The others seem up and active within the small bounds of your camp, Price gathering more firewood, Ghost down by the river collecting more water, and Gaz sitting next to the firewood tending something, breakfast perhaps. You pad over to Gaz, taking a seat next to him as the other two slowly make their way back to the centre.
“Finally escape the wolf?” Gaz asks with a chuckle.
“He has a very tight grip…” You respond with a yawn, earning a chuckle from Price and Ghost.
“A menace more like it.” Ghost adds before setting down five carafes of water.
“Had to sacrifice your bed roll Gaz. Sorry but it was a worthy substitute for my freedom.” You say, earning a dramatic gasp from Gaz.
“I’ll never get it back now! How could you?” Gaz states with a sarcastic clutching of his non-existent pearls.
“You can have mine, probably wouldn’t use it much anyways.” You grumble taking a sip from one of the carafes.
Gaz hums as he passes you a plate with some white flakey meat on top of some wild rice. You dig into it almost right away, savouring the taste of a warm and fresh breakfast after the night you had been through. Ghost picks through his plate with careful consideration, every now and again lowering the mask part of his cowl to take small bites, while Gaz and Price practically shovel rice and fish into their mouths. You silently giggle at the odd sight, before feeling something brush your tail behind you. You turn, spoon hanging out of your mouth expecting to see Johnny sneaking up behind you, maybe trying to drag you back to bed, but instead you find a fluffy black cat, gently batting at the very tip of your tail.
“How did you sleep Sunny? Any more nightmares?” Gaz asks through a mouthful of rice, turning to face you fully.
“Better, no nightmares after climbing into your tent.” You respond, gently swishing your tail, watching the cat chase after it.
“You had nightmares last night?” Price inquires at the mention of your less than pleasant sleep.
“Yeah… Or maybe a memory… You told me about that memory of mine that you saw on the Nautiliod?” You start, turning to face Price, leaving the cat be for the moment, “I… I was fighting a horrible monster, I got thrown around, clawed and thrashed, then it ended as that thing bit down into my neck.”
A lie, sour on your tongue. You didn’t want to lie… Not to them, but the nightmare you really had, meant something you weren’t fully sure about. Without an answer or a better idea of what was going on, you didn’t want to worry them. You wince and squeak slightly as the cat bites down on the tip of your tail, clearly displeased with being ignored.
“Excuse me little fluff ball! We do not bite tails!” You turn around grabbing the cat and hauling it into your lap. It settles down happily, its own tail swishing in delight.
“Well, look at that, we have a little invader in our camp. Come to steal some breakfast little panther?” Price asks with a smile on his face as he holds out a piece of fish to the cat, who gently takes it from his hand and chomps down on it with glee.
“Does it have a collar?” Gaz asks leaning over to get a better look at the newest fluffy addition.
“Uhhh… Let me check.” You say as you gently reach around the cat’s neck, looking for a collar with a tag or something. Your hand brushes against something cold and metallic, and you grab the tag that was hiding under all the fluff. The metal feels magical, enchanted maybe, as your fingers start to tingle in the same way they do when casting magic.
“There is one… Uhh, hello little Nyx?” You ask to the cat sitting on your lap. The cat purrs and gives a little murp in response.
“Nyx is a fitting name. It means Night.” Gaz comments as he reaches his hand over to Nyx, who buts its head up into his hand for pets.
“Any owner on that tag lovie?” Price asks setting his plate down on the ground next to him.
“No… Just the name Nyx. The collar is magical or enchanted in some way. Maybe they are a wizard’s familiar?” You offer between bites of your breakfast, trying to hold the plate away from Nyx’s muzzle and its hungry maw, interjecting your question with little ‘no, not for you’s and ‘stop it’s.
“Well it seems like Nyx likes you. Can warlocks have familiars?” Gaz asks to counter your question, pulling Nyx off your lap and on to his, trying to keep it from taking a big bite out of your middling breakfast. Nyx meows in disappointment and the very audible purring comes to a halt.
“Some can.” Price adds, “Depends on what kind of pact Sunny made. I know of at least 4 kinds of pact boons warlocks can get.”
“What are they?” You ask finishing up your rice and taking Nyx back from Gaz, who had been squirming and wiggling in his arms.
“Pact of the Blade, Pact of the Tome, Pact of the Talisman, and Pact of the Chain. That last one is the boon that allows warlocks to summon familiars.” Price says as he leans over and feeds more fish to Nyx, “Other than that, none of the patrons I’ve heard of will grant a familiar outside the boon.”
You stare down at Nyx who takes the fish into it’s mouth and chomps it down before licking its chops happily. After cleaning its face with a paw, it looks up at you with piercing amber eyes, blinking slowly, rumbling purr returning with a ferocity. When it’s eyes open again you swear for a split second it’s eyes aren’t the amber you saw before, but an icy haunting blue. You freeze, tensing slightly, but when you look back at Nyx’s eyes, they are amber again, the colour of rich honey.
“Stray comes with a stray… Perfect.” Ghost grumbles, snapping you out of your stupor. You are about to reply when an arm wraps around your neck, pulling you to the ground. Nyx leaps gracefully out of your lap to the ground as you are pulled off your seat, a hiss let out at the arm that pulled you away.
“I sai’ ‘jus’ few mor’ moments plea’e’ bonnie! An’ when I wake up, nae bonnie ta be foun’! D’ ye jus’ nae wan’ ta cuddle wit me hen? ‘M offended!” Soap whines like a kicked puppy, holding your body up by your arm pits, your legs laying sprawled across the ground.
“I was hungry and needed to stretch my legs Johnny! I would have stayed in the bed roll with you but I was starving.” You whine in return, and Johnny huffs amused.
“Well did ye fill ya bellay ye wee terror?” He asks hauling you bodily into his lap as he takes your spot in front of the fire, a plate filled mostly with rice, and some fish, is passed to him.
“Yes I did. Thank you for the breakfast John, Kyle.” You say nodding to the two men in turn.
“You’re welcome Sunshine.” John says as he starts to clean up the mess from breakfast.
“So the plan for today?” Gaz inquires as Price takes his plate from his hands.
“The goblins have holed up in two locations near by. One in a blighted village down the river from here, and the other in an old abandoned temple west of the village. Most of the forces are centralized at the temple, thats where their chain of command is most likely set up.” Ghost explains as he draws a crude map in the soil next to the camp fire, circling points of interest in the nearby landscape, with some difficulty as Nyx chases the stick he is drawing with.
“If ta gobo’s hav’ Nik, they’d keep ‘im in ta temple roight?” Johnny adds, mouth full of food, and causing some rice to stick to your horns and hair. You smack his chest and close his mouth with your hand, causing him to groan at the action.
“Aye. That’s the most likely location. Easier to keep hostages there. More defensible too.” Price offers as he rejoins the group.
“Nettie said that Nik had gone looking for the source of the tadpole infections, and that led him to join those adventurers we saved in front of the grove.” Ghost says, pointing at the symbol he drew for the temple, “Also saw a few drow coming out of that building… Might be able to strong arm our way in without fighting yet.”
“Going in without fighting would be ideal… That would allow us to look around and find Nik without having to slaughter everyone in the temple.” You answer, hoping that you could maybe solve this diplomatically until violence was absolutely needed, much to the chagrin of the fuzzy staticy feeling deep in your brain.
“We’ll try that first. This is a reconnaissance mission, objective is to find Nikolai the Druid and any weak points we can exploit in the camp. We can run an extermination once we have all the information needed.” Price says as he stand up, wiping the dirt off his hands, “Grab what you need, leave the rest. Gaz, grab the scroll, we’ll hide the camp so we don’t have to carry everything with us.”
Once Price has finished giving orders you all split and start grabbing what you need for the mission ahead. Gaz hands out the now cleaned armour and you all start to get dressed. You fold the clothes Price lent to you, tucking them next to Soap and Gaz’s bed roll before starting to buckle up the worn leather armour you woke up in. The smell of ash and dirt still clings to the leather, but given what Gaz had to clean your armour with last night it was a considerable improvement to the clay caked, blood splattered set you had given him last night. You walk out of the tent as you are buckling your alchemist's pouch to your belt, to be met with the sight of Ghost helping Soap strap his axe sheath to his back, and Price lifting Gaz’s heavy mail over his head before threading his wings through the slits in the back.
After helping Soap, Ghost grabs one last pack from the red tent, before walking back towards the group stationed at the edge of camp. Nyx calmly pads over to where the group has gathered, rubbing up against your legs before sitting at your side. Once you were all outside the bounds of camp, Gaz unfurls a small papyrus scroll, reading over the contents quickly, before freeing up one hand and waving it in a smooth circle. His feathers glow with that beautiful golden light, veins in his arms and hands pulsing alongside his heartbeat as runes start to materialize in the air in front of him. In the centre of the circle a symbol starts glowing in a warm golden light, a sheaf of wheat blooming outwards with a single rose almost swirling in the middle. Every time Gaz uses his magic, a calm warmth seems to wash over the surrounding area.
“Abscondere Palam.” Gaz speaks in a low voice, gentle like a babbling brook.
As the words leave his lips, a golden glow trails over the campsite, crawling over every obstacle. As the glow reaches the far side of camp, the landscape in front of you starts to shimmer and change, the tents and campfire melting into the background, disappearing in the blink of an eye. As the glow fades, the campsite looks like how you had found it the night before, no signs of occupation except for faded animal tracks. Your eyes sparkle as you watch the magic fade away with an awed grin on your face. You turn to Gaz and watch as his veins glow for a moment more, but start to fade as the scroll crumbles to dust in his hands.
“What was that?” You ask excitedly, tail waging behind you like an excited dog.
“Mirage Arcane. This will obscure our campsite from prying eyes for 10 days, meaning we can leave it during the day, and come back at night without worrying about someone finding it.” Gaz says waving his hand through the illusion border, there is slight rippling, but other than that the image is perfect.
“Since it came from a scroll it’s not perfect. You should see Nik or Laswell cast it, they are masters at this kind of magic.” Price adds with a fond smile, clasping a hand on Gaz’s shoulder.
“Paladins’ magic does have its limits, even when you’re a child of a god.” Gaz chuckles grabbing Price’s hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Yer magic is wonderful Gaz, dinnae need ta knew all te spells ta be a wiz at magic.” Soap comments as he starts to walk away from camp, in the direction of the temple Ghost had mentioned.
“I wouldn’t want to know more magic than I need, ugh arch mages are a pain in the ass. Always have their noses stuck in books, locked away in their towers, looking down on people. Not for me.” Gaz scoffs, with a flick of his wings.
With that your party sets off into the wilderness, following the path Ghost had taken last night during his scouting mission. The path was relatively easy to follow, Soap needing to help you up a few cliff faces that were a touch to steep with a scoff or two from Ghost in the process. Nyx seems content to ride on the shoulder of the barbarian, digging her claws into his hide armour any time he jostles too much, or climbs up a ledge too fast. The group stays quite for the most part, slinking through the bush and staying away from the main roads to not be seen by passing patrols of goblins or gnolls. Some banter is had here and there, mostly bad jokes coming from Ghost, much to the expense of Soap who seems to somewhat like them, but groans every time a punchline is made.
“Why do paladins wear chainmail Johnny?” Ghost starts, causing Soap to sigh and respond with a less than enthusiastic tone.
“I dinnae LT, why do te?”
“Because it’s holey armour.” Ghost delivers with a dry tone, smile certainly present under his mask and cowl.
“That has ta be te worst joke ye have tol' today Ghost.”
You giggle at the exchange shoulders shaking slightly as you try to remain quiet, while beside you Gaz just looks confused, head tilted slightly with a small open mouthed frown on his face.
“Was that joke aimed at me?” Gaz asks in a hushed tone to you, leaning over slightly to not let the others hear.
“No Gaz, you’re wearing plate armour honey, not chainmail, its just a joke.” You reply through giggles.
“The Stray likes my jokes.” Ghost says with a knowing smirk, aimed at Soap.
“Tha’ jus’ because Sun’ hasn’t been ‘round ye long ‘nough, te will get over it soon ‘nough, mark me words.” Soap retorts with a huff.
“I don’t know… I think they’re funny in that cute dad joke way.” You respond while gently patting Soap on the back.
“Nae bonnie, dinnae encourage ‘im!” Soap whines, leaning into your pats while you hum.
“Do you know why dragons sleep during the day, Johnny?” You ask leaning in and rubbing his back.
“I dinnae knew drags’ slept durin’ ta day, why do ta do tha’ bonnie?” Soap asks, perking up slightly at your question.
“So that they can fight the knight!” You finish with a cheeky grin plastered on your face.
Soap stops in his tracks for a moment to process what you had just said, before his face falls to a grimace and he lets out a long pronounced groan. He throws his arms above his head, knocking Nyx off his shoulder, causing her to leap into your arms with an annoyed hiss, before settling up on your shoulder, tail curling around your neck. Ghost lets out a huff of laughter, at your joke or Soap’s reaction your not quite sure, his body shaking as he stifles the rest.
“NAE YOU TO BONNIE!” Soap yells, scaring a few birds from their hiding spots around the group. His yell is cut slightly short as Price slaps him over the head with his fisherman like hat followed by a pointed look that burns into your mind, even though it wasn’t aimed at you.
“That’s enough chatter you muppets. Focus on the mission at hand.” Price hisses out, reminding everyone to stay mostly quiet.
“Sorrae capt’n…” Soap mumbles with a guilty look.
You and Ghost reply similarly, a quick ‘sorry sir’ and ‘yes captain’ respectively, before Price sighs, rubbing the area where he hit Soap with an apologetic frown. The banter steers away from jokes from that point on, focusing more on just small talk, Ghost staying silent while you, Gaz, and Soap chatter away about various stories and exploits the team has gone through. You are in awe of the missions they had gone on up until this point, particularly enthused about the various magical they have recovered and hidden away with the Harpers.
“So you all are Harpers?” You ask, gently plucking some mugwort from the bush, binding it and placing it in your alchemy pouch.
“Yes. We work mostly out of Baldur’s Gate and Wyrm’s Crossing, but we have connections with Harpers and Flaming Fist members all over Faerûn.” Price answers in a smooth low tone.
“Our High Harper is stationed in Baldur’s Gate, she talks to all the other High Harpers scattered around and assigns us to different missions, mostly artifact recovery and cult recon missions.” Gaz adds with a cheerful smile.
“High Harper? So she’s like your boss?”
“Basically. Price is in charge of the three of us, and High Harper Laswell is in charge of all the Harpers in this general area.” Gaz clarifies.
“Were you on a mission when you got squidnapped?”
“Yes, we were scouting a githyanki crèche not far from here when we got taken. The gith had taken Rosymorn Monastery where two powerful and dangerous magical artifacts are believed to be stored. We were coming up with an infiltration plan when the Nautiloid got us.” Ghost finally pipes up, catching your attention.
“What kind of magical artifacts?”
“The Solar Lance, and the Blood of Lathander. Two weapons developed and guarded by the monks that once lived in that Monastery. Laswell thinks that because none of the monks were able to activate the Solar Lance before the gith over took them, that both are most likely still there.”
“So after we get rid of our hitchhikers, is that where you guys will be heading back too?”
“Most likely.” Ghost finishes turning away from you and continuing to walk a seemingly nonsensical path.
“Ye mor’ than welcome ta join us hen, ther’ is always room fer one mor’.” Soap adds slapping your back, causing you to flinch slightly, Nyx growling on your shoulder.
“If I still can’t remember anything when we do, I might take you up on that offer.” You giggle, causing a big goofy smile to spread across his face.
“Tha’s my bonnie!”
“Shut up. We are here.” Ghost snaps from the front of the pack.
Everyone stops at that, no movement, no rustling. You slowly peak over Price’s shoulder to see a rickety wooden bridge spanning a rushing river bed about 10 ft down. The side of the river you are on is mostly lush, and what you would expect from a forest this close to the coast. The other side is burned and acrid, black smoke billowing out of several different spots, the ground muddy and worn, in the distance you can hear the quiet yelling and whooping of goblins. This was the temple both Rath and Ghost had mentioned, the old abandoned temple to Selûne.
“So what’s the plan?” You whisper to the group.
“The drow I saw last night walked right through the front gate, intimidated all the goblins just by being there. I say we follow their lead.” Ghost offers, opening the floor for the others to chime in.
“Then what? We get past the gate, into the temple, and?” Gaz points out.
“We stay together. If we are getting through based on Ghost’s authority, we stay close to him. No clue what the goblins or their leaders would do if they found any of us snooping around. Especially Gaz.” Price notes, causing Gaz to pull his wings tight to his body, muttering something about being a stupid aaismar.
“But wouldnae it be easi’r ta find Nik if we split up?” Soap asks, rubbing his chin.
“Too risky. We are flying in blind, we have no idea what’s behind those temple walls.” Price counters, causing Soap to scratch his temple in thought.
“We also need to figure out a way to get rid of most of them, if not all. The goblins have been a blight on this area. If the refugees at the grove tried to leave with goblins still running around they would be easy bait.” You add, tail swishing nervously.
“Aye, good though’ bonnie. Betta keep our eyes peel’d for ways ta get rid o’ tem quick.” Soap chirps, squeezing your shoulder in confirmation.
“Right. Stick close to Ghost, keep your head on a swivel, and do not engage until I give the go ahead.” Price finishes, straightening up and gesturing for Ghost to take the lead.
Ghost nods to Price before slinking out of the bush you were all taking cover in and starts walking down the path leading up to the rickety bridge. The rest of the part follows behind him, Price and Gaz directly behind Ghost, you behind them, and Soap bringing up the rear. You appreciate being placed in the middle, making sure you would be relatively safe for a few moments if a battle was to happen upon your arrival to the guarded gate. Nerves take over your system as you approach the bridge, it cracking and groaning under the weight of the three men in front of you, tail lashing behind you smacking into Soaps calves as he comes up behind you.
“Everythin’ alroight Sun?” Soap asks looking down at the bridge in front of you.
“Is it going to hold everyone’s weight?” You ask turning to look at him with a worried glance.
“I’m sure ta bridge will hol’ hen, thos’ worgs are much heavier tha’ us. Dinnae worrae.” Soap reassures you, gently pushing you closer to the bridge.
You freeze as the barbarian pushes you closer, stumbling as your feet hit the first plank of the bridge, arms shooting out to grab the rope hand rails to stabilize yourself so that you don’t fall face first into the cracking and rotting planks. Your tail lashes angrily as you shoot a glare over your shoulder at the barbarian, before taking uneasy steps across the bridge. The others had crossed at this point and were turned to face you, Ghost watching unamused as usual, while Gaz and Price looked at least somewhat concerned at your predicament. Grumbling the whole way, and with Soap following close behind, you manage to finally cross the bridge, and return to hopefully solid ground. You sigh, body practically sagging with relief, Gaz coming over and patting your shoulder as Soap just brushes by you chuckling at the whole ordeal.
Ghost clears his throat before gesturing towards the gate you need to pass through in order to get to the temple on the other side. You steel yourself and straighten back up, before nodding and taking your position in the group order again. With Ghost at the head, your group should be able to pass through undeterred, but a nagging worry tugs at your gut, and a hand is rested on your dagger, just in case.
Your group finally approaches the gate, and now that you are closer, you can get a better look at the goblins guarding it. You count at least four sentinels, all goblins, and two worgs, the smallest of which is noticeably bigger than the one you had seen outside the Grove. The bigger of the two worgs growls pawing at the ground as your group approaches, and you can hear what it is saying.
“Rip ya. Rip ya fer yer giblets. Got thick giblets. Want them.” It growls towards your group, causing you and Gaz to flinch back slightly, and Soap to push in front of you blocking the worg’s path.
“Lookit, Klaw! Supper’s here!” The main sentinel starts, patting the worg on the flank, “Unless you got another reason to be here, f*ck-sh*te.” He finishes with a glare as a symbol flares to life on his eye, a triangle pointed downwards, with a skull and hand print in the middle. It glows like it is on fire, and the worm seated deep in your brain squirms to life with a painful wiggle.
You are about to say something, anything to get the pressure to leave your head, when Ghost steps up further, crowding into the goblin’s space and glaring down at him with an icy crimson stare. The goblin flinches as Ghost’s arm starts to move, but Ghost does reach for his weapon, instead he goes for the hood covering his head. The hood is flicked down, allowing you to catch a glimpse of Ghost’s head, his bright white hair is cut close to his scalp, left slightly longer at the top of his head, not a mohawk like Soap, more normal, almost bland. His ears are what really catch your eyes, long slightly droopy drow ears with a variety of cuts and nicks along the shell of them, and two iron studs pierced through them at the lobe. You wish you were just a touch closer so you could see his face.
The goblin looks horrified at the sudden reveal, reeling back and holding up his hands to protect his face. The other sentinels around the gate go silent, and the only thing you can hear is the heavy breathing of the worgs and the crackling of smoldering fires around you. The goblin in front of Ghost looks like his is about to piss his pants before he quickly dropping into a low bow, hands spread wide like he was welcoming the group into a noble’s house.
“P-p-please forgive me your… erm… excelness! I coul’ not see you under that hood! Shove over, Klaw! Drow comin’ through.” The goblin stutters out, shoving the worg out of the way of your group.
Ghost was right, these goblins were terrified of drow, and to lay it on thick, Ghost continues to stare down the goblin still shaking in his boots, if you weren’t surrounded on all sides by goblins, you would have found this hilarious. Ghost takes another step toward the goblin, forcing the poor thing to take a few quick steps back, tripping over its heavy armour and landing flat on it’s ass, at this point you do let out a small giggle, causing Gaz to give you a quick side eye.
“The lads’re c-c-celebrating the raid on Waukeen’s Rest. I’m s-s-sure the higher-ups’ll make sure you get the best of the spoils, your excelness. The boss is in the temple inside. M-m-minthara too! A-and Priestess Gut can show you how many new recruits we got!” The goblin manages to get out without stuttering too much, his armour clanking as he shakes.
Ghost lets out a huff, before stepping over the scared-sh*tless goblin, motioning for the rest of you to follow suit. Price and Gaz follow quickly behind, stepping over him, while Soap lags slightly offering you a hand. You take it and he lifts you into his arms, stepping over the goblin with ease. You hear a squeak come from below you and see that Soap had stepped as close as he possibly could have to the goblin’s head, smirking to really rub it in. You are lowered back down to the ground after, and slightly stumble out of Soap’s grasp before gaining your feet again.
You resume the marching order from before, walking side-by-side with Gaz, Price and Ghost taking the lead, with Soap covering your rear. Considering the more in-human features both you and Gaz possess, it was a good idea to keep the two of you close to the centre, lest a goblin gets too handsy with one of you.
Nyx rubs her head into yours, trying to comfort you, or at least calm your nerves, but you can’t help but fidget anxiously with your hands, something doesn’t feel right, but you can’t put your finger on it. Gaz notices your fidgeting and gently takes one of your hands into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You turn to him and offer a grateful smile in his direction before you are struck with one of the worst pains you have felt since waking up on that damned beach.
It feels like your skull is splitting open, white hot pain mixed with the violent wiggling of the parasite in your brain makes it hard to see or continue walking forward, let alone stand. You wrench your hand from Gaz’s and grip your head as you are brought to your knees with the pain, Nyx leaping to the floor from your shoulder, meowing in concern. Muffled groans and hisses of pain can be heard all around you as you see Gaz fall to his knees next to you, Price and Ghost struggling to stand in front of you, using each other as braces, while the loud thump behind you suggests that Soap is on the ground too.
Hear my voice. Obey my command.
Your head whips around trying to find the source of the voice but the dizzy feeling that follows is enough to make you fall forwards, bracing against the ground in pain. The voice’s orders are near irresistible, making you want to just lie on the ground and listen, but that deep fuzzy feeling stirs again, clawing at your senses, keeping you somewhat alert. Your vision starts to cloud over, leaving you in a dark featureless void, nothingness in every direction. You think for just a moment about the dream you had the night before, this was very similar to it. Could this voice be the shadow creature you saw?
The void almost lightens slightly, purple light swirling in front of you, blocked slightly by three figures still cloaked in darkness, but you can make out some distinguishing features. The figure in the middle is an older armoured elf, wrinkles cover his face, especially between his eyebrows, and he looks to be bald, a strange trait for an elf. The figure to its left is a younger looking human man, with a quick and easy smile, his dark hair meticulous combed and styled. Finally the figure on the far right was a young woman, by far the youngest of the group, and she… she… you knew her.
You didn’t know her name, or really who she was, but that woman… looked exactly like the woman from your memory, your one complete memory you could recall from you past. The woman from the temple, the one underground, the one who you fought, the one that turned into a huge beast of a creature. Angry white hot rage bubbled up in you seeing her there. She shouldn’t be there… she was unworthy of that position… unworthy of that praise… unworthy, unworthy, UNWORTHY.
These are my Chosen. They speak for me.
Aid them, and you will be worthy to stand beside them. In my presence.
You are struck by another wave of pain, but that just makes the fuzzy feeling in your brain angrier, you claw your way to your feet, shaking and twitching against the hold the voice has on you, worm thrashing in protest at your movements. Rage, like a pot of boiling water, spills over and you let out a roar you weren’t aware you were capable of. Your whole body shakes with the force as black tendrils of your magic burst forth from Nyx and wrap around your party, protecting them from the voice, shielding them from it’s influence. The tendrils start to wrap up your legs, digging into your form as the energy from them pulses into you. The pain starts to fade, slowly, as does the voice and its influence.
My power grows. My forces gather. The reckoning draws near…
Just like that, the pain is gone, the voice silent, and the parasite dormant. You take a few shaky breaths before collapsing to your knees again, trying to calm your racing heart. You watch as the shadows peel back from your new friends, slithering across the ground before bing sucked back into Nyx who sits a few feet in front of you, calmly grooming herself. She stops once she feels your eyes on her, and as she looks up at you, you can see the icy blue eyes from your dreams staring back. Something old is behind those eyes, old and unfathomably powerful, and it clearly did not take kindly to the new upstart that had just tried to coerce you into doing its bidding.
You should be scared, but then again, one should never look a gift cat in the mouth.
