Enrolled in Epicness - A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic

3. Hot-Blooded

"I should've let the ghouls take you," he muttered, recovering his rapier from the shredded undead's belly. The deadly salami would remain tied to his belt as a spare weapon. "Where's Waterdeep?"

"We were looking for him when the ghouls attacked." Shadowheart laid a hand on the Githyanki's flank, healing a nasty scratch where a monster had torn a piece of her armor. The exposed flesh looked... seductive.

Astarion turned his head away. "So, no sign of our arrogant ally?"

"The undead were protecting a ruin," Lae'zel said. "We should search that place."

That seemed a reasonable idea. After a five-minute walk on the floating rock, they reached the spot. The ruin's gaping entrance was built straight into a mound. Two decaying metal doors, each twice his height, were lying beside it. Sharp letters, like in the cave earlier, covered their surface. Liz took one look at the writing and gasped.

"GHAIK!"

"Mind flayers—here?" Shadow said.

"The dialect is archaic, but this place was built by GHAIK THRALLS!"

Those must've been the enemies Raphael spoke about earlier. Fighting mind flayers wouldn't be easy. Astarion crossed his arms. "If Waterdeep went inside alone, he's likely dead by now. We should look elsewhere."

"COWARD!" The Githyanki hissed at him and, without a second look, entered the ruin.

"How utterly humorless."

"Humor, Astarion, is supposed to be funny," Shadow said with a sarcastic grin. Her chain mail had been shredded above the shoulder, exposing pristine skin glistening under the astral starlight. His eyes trailed up to her delectable neck... His fangs throbbed. He hurried to cover his mouth—where did that come from?!

Then the tadpole inside his head reacted. A psionic pulse connected him with Shadowheart, sharing his urges with her. "Keep those smutty thoughts to yourself," she said, sneering, one hand tightening over her enchanted spear.

"It won't happen again, darling. I assure you that I find you utterly repulsive." Perhaps not the best words to use. Shadowheart grimaced at him and stormed inside the ruin. If he were to save Tav and return to the cozy camp, they'd have to work together, so, letting out a muted sigh, Astarion followed.

They walked down a flight of cracked stairs. A trace of illithid stench tainted the damp air, like day-old clams left in the sun. Up ahead lay a grand hall. It seemed Liz was already tinkering with something in its middle, but he couldn't see clearly past Shadowheart. She scratched her neck, providing another sight of her flesh, flush with luscious blood.

Again, their tadpoles linked up. Shadow spun on her heels. "Astarion!"

"I swear I don't mean it." Oh, but he did. Even as he spoke, his mind filled with visions of himself pinning the cleric to the floor, sinking his fangs deep into her throbbing jugular, and gorging on the ambrosial nectar of her life.

Shadow's glowing spear tip pointed at his face. "Stay back, or the only blood you'll taste is your own."

Astarion withdrew, more confused than intimidated. Where did that intense craving come from, and why did that filthy, conniving tadpole keep revealing it?! He suspected the imprint on his hand, but unlike earlier, it was dormant. Perhaps the thrill of combat had inflamed his libido? Shadowheart continued descending the stairs, her smooth thighs dancing with each flowing step... He covered his eyes, letting out a swear, and took slow, deep breaths.

When the hunger finally subsided, the priestess was already at the bottom. He followed her into the large hall. Its time-worn walls were made of another type of stone, green and smooth. Two elevated platforms sat on the sides, each a couple meters high, and reached by stairs. The far end contained a statue of an illithid noble, its top third lying shattered by its feet. In the center, between four round columns, stood a pod-like contraption made of metal and ivory, tilted backward. Liz was at its base, crouching on all four.