I trudge on through the passageway behind Astarion, Karlach and Gale at my heels. I can tell it is beginning to wear on us all from the silence as we move like one entity towards the unknown.
Still, the spell I used to shatter the rocks simmers throughout my whole body. The exertion from using such advanced magics and the concentration from focusing my thoughts on such an abstract principal has left me drained. My powers are already depleted that I worry I won't be much use in a fight against Cazador.
I focus on Astarion ahead of me, only able to surmise his mood from the way he stalks forwards, poised to fight. But that might not be the case, I saw the magics tethering him to the rites cause the scars at his back to glow and almost burn. He might be feeling that in a much smaller capacity now if Godey is telling the truth and the Black Mass has begun.
"Gale?" I ask.
"Hmm?" Gale hums behind me.
I press my hand onto the cold passageway walls to ground myself, "What's the difference between Cazador starting the ritual tonight instead of on the night of the full moon?"
"Are you talking about any magical ramifications?" Gale asks.
I watch ahead of me as Astarion turns his head slightly, almost looking back over his shoulder.
"The rites taking place on the full moon would be merely circular. Though many believe the full moon has properties that aids in the manifestation of magical forces while others see the moon as sort of a mirror with the ability to amplify whatever spells they cast, but if that were the case doing it a bit before or after would make no difference." Gale explains.
"Maybe he's scared." Karlach says, "Astarion is a piece of the puzzle and he's no longer on his master's leash."
Astarion chuckles ahead of us, "Cazador is always ten steps ahead. He plans for every eventuality."
"Not every eventuality." I say.
Astarion glances back at us.
"It's clear his opinion of you was so low that he didn't take into account that you would have someone fighting by your side." My heart warms and the smile that tugs at his lips through the emotion I can see on his brow.
"Gods." Gale groans, "That smell."
I blink wondering what he means then it hits me, the smell of decay. It's much stronger than before. I groan and put my hand over my nose, behind me Karlach gags.
"Are we coming up on some more crypts?" Karlach asks.
"These aren't crypts." Astarion mutters, "What in the Hells?"
I peer past him deeper into the passage way and try to reconcile what I'm seeing ahead of me.
Torchlight flickers, reflected upon smooth marbled floors leading into a yawning cavernous room.
Astarion stops at the opening, I can hear the ragged breaths he's drawing in as he stares ahead.
Now that I'm closer I take it in. The room has the same large labyrinthine halls as the crypt, but with what looks like jail cells instead of burial chambers. The walls are made with the same material as the floor, but in a darker color with infernal etched into the border around the criss-cross of metal. Not quite bars, but still a barrier of some sort. Likely spelled by the runes.
The first few cells I pass by have between five to seven inhabitants, at first glance I think they're prisoners or possibly Cazador's next meals, but as one looks up and I see the glowing red eyes I recognize what they are. Vampire spawn.
"I don't understand." Astarion says breathlessly. "Why are they all here?"
"You." A voice groans out beside us, "I remember you."
Astarion approaches the cell just up ahead, "No," I watch as his brows furrow. "You're dead."
"You told me such pretty things back at the tavern. The way my name sounded on your lips was like poetry." The long hared elf says, gazing up at Astarion from his hands and knees.
"Sebastian. You were so handsome and kind. I was your first kiss." Astarion's gaze drifts downward, I can see the hollowness returning. "I brought you to him."
"You ruined me." Sebastian growls, reaching through the bars trying to grab at Astarion's armor.
The cell glows and shimmers with a deep almost blood red magic as Sebastian slides back down, his forehead resting against the metal.
"Astarion." I mutter and he looks to me, his eyes welling up. "The scars on his face and hands." I say, "They resemble the ones on your back."
He looks back at Sebastian in the cell, "I recognize so many of these faces. So many on my conquests. I lured them away, seduced them and brought them here to Cazador. I thought he was feeding on them all this time, but, he was keeping them for the ritual."
"So they've just been left here to rot for what? Over a hundred years?" Gale asks looking around.
"From the looks of it they've barely been given any food, their hunger has been eating them from the inside out turning them feral." Astarion says. He shakes his head and looks away, "How could I be so stupid? Seven sigils on seven spawn, their tribute a thousand fold. Seven thousand souls to ascend. All of this is my doing."
"We can free them. Can't we?" I ask.
"Free us?!" Sebastian scoffs, "Everything is controlled by Cazador's staff and he is never without it. No one can get close enough."
"That's why I'm here." Astarion says, "I can get to Cazador. I can destroy him and free all of you."
Sebastian's gaze falls "Whatever it is you're doing, you better move quickly. I don't want to die down here."
"Where exactly are we?" Karlach asks.
"My guess is below the temple." Astarion says.
Then I watch Astarion stagger as if the world has tilted under him, he steadies himself and presses a hand to his chest. I notice the faint red magic encircling his wrists for a moment before it dissipates.
"It's getting stronger." I reach out for him and he holds his hand up as a warning.
All I want is to touch him again, but I can tell he's terrified of whatever magic is clinging to him. I would be too if our places were reversed, but watching him struggle feels like I'm being torn apart from the inside.
"What's going to happen to you?" Karlach asks, "When the rites begin for real."
"I don't know." Astarion says more to me than anyone else.
"I for one would not like to find out." Gale says.
—
Not soon after we find a stairwell that leads up to a wooden hatch and into the palace cellar. For a Vampire Lord I'm surprised at the amount of food and wine he has stored away, but then I remember to the rest of Baldur's Gate, Cazador Szarr is just another noble. A lord that holds grand balls and entertains other members of high society while stealing away vulnerable souls for his ritual under their noses.
From the noise I hear above in the Palace proper that's exactly what it sounds like. Music and conversation seeps through the old bones of the building filtering down into the cellar.
"Sounds like quite the party." Karlach remarks.
"He is popular." Astarion says, "We need to be careful. A lot of his more devoted followers are just mortals looking for the gift of eternal life."
Gale and I share a look, he nods and smiles.
"What?" Astarion asks looking between us, "What was that look for?"
"Sleep spell." Gale and I say at the same time.
"I was just going to knock 'em out." Karlach smiles, "But I like that plan better. Don't drop anything without fangs or fur."
Astarion presses his hand to his chest again, the magic flaring under his skind a bit stronger now. It takes a moment for it to start to fade.
"What does it feel like?" I ask.
He looks up at me, "Oh, just the unbearable tickle of almost having my entire skeletal system wrenched from my skin. It's Cazador calling for me. He's trying to trigger our bond, but the parasite is blocking it. We don't have much time. I fear whatever he's doing might cause that magic to finally snap."
The door just in front of us begins to rattle as it opens, a skeletal form crosses the threshold completely ignorant of our existence. Astarion crouches low and begins to sneak towards the guard, sliding his dagger from his hips.
We remain silent watching in the shadows as he circles around the guard and pounces, his arm going around his bare collar bones, his blade just under his skull.
The skeletal guard lets out an otherworldly cry and staggers against Astarion, the bright blue magic in his eyes flaring with surprise as his mouth hangs agape.
"Where is Cazador?" Astarion growls, the blade sliding deeper under his vertebrae. "Where is your master?!"
For a moment I think the skeletal guard cannot speak.
"He isn't here." The skeleton says, "He is with the others at the temple. Preparing for The Black Mass."
"A skeleton with a sense of self preservation." Gale whispers, "Now I think it's safe to say that I have seen almost everything."
The guard claws at Astarion's leather sleeves, his bright eyes darting from side to side.
"Where?!" Astarion's voice is thick with a rage that I have never heard before.
"His chambers." The guard says, "There's a false wall in his chambers."
Astarion pulls his dagger away and releases him. The skeletal guard slouches forward, visibly relieved as he turns to look behind him. Astarion grits his teeth, baring his fangs and sinks the dagger into the skeletal guard's skull. The rest of his bones clatter to the floor.
I swallow as I watch Astarion's chest heave, his eyes wild as they find mine in the dim light. There's something visceral in his expression, but I cannot look away as he gives me a smile fit for the devil himself.