Squeaky tore into the first ghoul with sharp talons and fierce loyalty, knocking it off Shadowheart. Then it smashed into the second undead. Not Astarion's first choice for an 'ally,' but the annoying owlbear cub had its uses. He stepped back, letting it wreak havoc, and turned to Shadowheart.
"My rapier's stuck in that ghoul's belly. Do you have any spare weapons?"
She healed a bleeding gash in her abdomen before answering him. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"Was that a yes or a no?"
She responded with a rude gesture, uncooperative as usual. With a sigh, Astarion reached for salvation inside his pockets... Nothing but a chunk of salami. How did that get in there?! Still, it felt wrong to let Tav's putrid pet steal all his glory. The ghoul with his sword in its gut was getting mauled by the owlbear, but the second rose to its feet, vengeance bursting from its feral eyes. Astarion swung the hardened meat slab at it, striking hard across the gaunt face. The ghoul wobbled, seemingly surprised by the garlicky weapon. He followed with the dagger, exploiting its confusion with a stab through the eye.
With a stilted grunt, the monster collapsed backward.
"BACK TO THE ABYSS!" Lae'zel said from nearby, cleaving another undead in half with her blade. The owlbear cub soon finished ripping the last apart. It squeaked happily at Astarion, proud of its violent deeds.
"Ugh, get over yourself," he said, rolling his eyes.
Shadowheart gave the feathered menace an adoring headpat. "You miss Tav, don't you?" she said in a coddling tone. "Don't worry, we'll find her."
"You're wasting your breath, darling—it doesn't understand."
Squeaky frowned beakishly at him.
"Don't give me that look; you know you don't."
"Oh, he does," Shadow said, fluffing up the big-eyed fiend. "Ignore the mean vampire. He's just hungry."
Astarion snorted at her. "Actually, I've already satisfied that craving."
"Oh?" The priestess stared curiously at him. "Found an astral boar?"
"Er, yes! A juicy one."
Squeaky gazed accusingly at him. Did it see through the lie?
"What are you looking at, hooter? Shadow, if this thing could, it would eat you as well."
"Let me use Speak with Animals." She drew out a thin vial, giving him a taunting stare, and drank it like a shot of whisky. Astarion palmed his face while she and the owlbear exchanged irritating noises.
"Squeaky says we are not food. We are friends."
"Lovely, darling. You've made your point—"
"He also says that you're a terrible liar."
Snarling, Astarion waved a dismissive hand, and another bright flash engulfed the animal. The next moment, it was gone.
"FOUL SORCERY!" Lae'zel shoved him out of nowhere. "The mark on your hand—what is that?"
Astarion retreated before her wrath. "It's from a friend."
"LIAR!"
"Yes, you have no friends," Shadow added with a snide smirk.
"I'll have you know, darling, that people all over Faerûn love me—some even write lewd stories about me."
The two women looked at each other—and burst into laughter.
"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.
"Lost something?" Astarion asked as he approached.
"YES. A piece of this Ghaik pod fell into a crevice."
Did the slender Githyanki always have such an enticing pelvis? He checked that Shadowheart wasn't spying on his leering, but the cleric had her eyes on the curve of Lae'zel's back too. How curious.
"Is this piece important?"
"YES!" Liz said, reaching deeper and bending lower. Meanwhile, Astarion surveyed the hall. The broken statue was in poor taste, the platforms seemed to lead nowhere, and the columns had more ugly letters etched onto them. One had a scorch mark, about the size of a chicken. It seemed fresh, and as he approached, the faint smell of burning matter reached his nose. A pile of debris lay near it... bones, ashes, and melted iron. Someone fought there recently.
Before he could mention that, Lae'zel leaped back to her feet with a triumphant cry. A greenish-blue orb sat in her hands. "Help me put it back in."
"Certainly, darling, I'll—"
She raised a hand to stop him. "I meant Shadowheart. You carry the stench of LUST."
"Impossible!" Astarion sniffed under his armpits—bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy. "I smell sublime, as usual."
"Funny," Shadowheart said, gesturing with her spear to step back. Reluctantly, he obliged her. The women inserted the strange orb into the pod's front, but when they removed their hands, it popped right out. The amusing scene repeated twice, but the sight of their delicate fingers touching during the attempts also made his fangs ache for action.
"What's wrong with you?!" Astarion whispered to himself. It felt like his blood was on fire... the blood, of course! That fiend, Raphael, fed him a tampered dose. He waved a fist, swearing, and the women stared at him.
"Sorry, girls; please, continue your illustrious activity."
"If you continue LEERING, elf, I will GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES."
"Liz, darling, you should be flattered." He gave her a taunting grin. "After all, I only show interest in the finest of specimens—"
"You bite squirrels."
"Only during winter," he frowned, insulted. "And occasionally, in fall."
His tadpole giggled, eagerly spreading his burning arousal, and Lae'zel gasped. The orb slipped from her hands, and Shadow dropped to her knees to catch it. They ended up facing each other in a rather compromising position.
"That's the spirit, darlings."
Their heads spun to glare at Astarion. He raised both hands in defense. "Hey, it's not my fault we have those things inside us."
"Oh, for the love of Shar!" Shadowheart gave Liz the orb without looking and walked behind a pillar. Apparently, sensing his boosted libido was too much for her.
He skipped over to the Githyanki, who tried to install the orb again. "Any idea what it is?"
"NO. It popped out when I inspected the device."
"I don't blame it. You tend toward rough play."
She slapped him, leaving a long scratch across his cheek. Astarion licked the blood. "I can get used to that, darling."
Liz raised the orb above his head. "Keep talking, and I'll CRACK YOUR SKULL!"
With a disappointed sigh, Astarion retreated. The Githyanki pushed the object into the pod with the bloodstained hand. A click echoed in the room, and it sank into place.
Their eyes opened wide in unison. What changed? It had to be his blood.
"Looks like this device needed some Astarion," he said, smirking.
The pod's top retracted, revealing a translucent layer with swirling blue fog inside. Their success drew Shadowheart out of her hiding spot. She held her hand near the object.
"I can sense powerful magic... I hear someone inside."
"Inside?" Astarion leaned in with his ear. In a moment, he heard it too—Waterdeep, calling for help.
"Any idea how we open this thing?" he asked.
Lae'zel huffed, folding her arms. "I've seen one before. If you force it open, he will die."
Lovely. He tapped on the glass. "Did you notice you're always getting stuck in weird things?"
Gale's voice grew stronger. "Safety release!"
"What?"
"Plates..." The words dimmed and distorted, swallowed by the tumultuous cloud. "Tadpoles!"
"I think he wants to eat our tadpoles."
"IDIOT!" Liz shoved him aside. "SPEAK, WIZARD!"
Waterdeep did something, and his voice became clearer. "The two platforms contain pressure plates meant for mind flayers. Activate them, and a third person can unlock the pod."
Astarion squinted suspiciously. "And our squirming head-guests can fool those plates?"
"Yes!"
"How do you know that?"
"Because," Gale shouted from within, "I am really, really smart!"
Lae'zel smacked her fists together. "Let's get to it!"
"I'm afraid I cannot allow that."
The dark, calculated voice was familiar. It came from the left platform, where a stout man, wearing a purple cloak and golden ornaments, stood between two lanky ghouls.
Balthazar.