Relenquish

Orpheus' freedom should be a relief. A triumph worthy of the blood, sweat and tears that went into it. Their alliance with Orpheus, in the prince's mind, is one forged from necessity rather than understanding and he has more to ask of them. It isn't the miracle the adventurers hoped it would be.

The consequences of the release meant the Emperor, once their ally, has sided with the enemy in an about-heel-turn. The odds were already not in their favour... but now? It's hopeless. Quentin's throat constricts, he wonders if he has made a mistake. Should he have done as the Emperor asked and sacrificed Orpheus for a surer victory? Would the others have even allowed it? Lae'zel has dedicated her new purpose, every waking moment, every fibre of her being to freeing her prince. Furthermore, what happened to Orpheus was wrong. He deserved freedom. Thankfully, they agreed on that.

The pocket dimension of the Astral Prism swims above them. A dark blue starry sky, wisps of angry red transitioning into a smear of violet. The earth beneath them fragmented, hunks of rock defying gravity itself. Cold and unwelcoming. Despite the beauty, dread hangs thick in the air. A sense of being unmoored.

For a man that just spent years in captivity the Prince of the Comet is unsettlingly still. He scarcely flexes a muscle, when he addresses the group, voice low. "The ghaik did not lie. The Netherbrain's power is beyond us. The hardest metal in the world would not cut through its mind for it is made of thought itself. At this point, it will take an illithid to unleash the full potential of the Netherstones."

The silence is deafening. Nobody dares speak. The revelation shakes the adventurers to the core.

Lae'zel's knuckles tighten around the hilt of her greatsword. Her eyes have not left the other githyanki since his liberation. Her mouth presses into a thin line, inner thoughts in turmoil. She is entirely dedicated to Orpheus' cause. She would lay down her life for him without question. But to become... ghaik... She feels like a coward and yet, the concept opposes not only everything she has learnt over the course of her life but her entire being. The honourable thing if she were to transform herself in such a way would be to slay herself when it is over. She shakes her head imperceptibly. Think long term - she urges herself - she cannot serve her Prince whilst dead. Every advantage has been stripped from them, she can acknowledge this needs to be done. But to ask someone to make this sacrifice- her eyes flick to the rest of her party; she feels Orpheus track her gaze, equally interested.

Shadowheart averts her eyes to the floor. In her heart she knows introspection will only make the situation worse but she cannot help herself, caught between a rock and a hard place, between logic and emotion. She has nothing - save her current companions: her parents are gone, her memories are forever fractured and the goddess she served for her whole life was not as she seemed - a mistake. She barely knows who she is. Should that make the decision of sacrificing herself easier or harder? She's finally been afforded a glimpse of hope - a future where she's able to find herself. Does she deserve to take it?

Gale's hand is to his mouth, eyes overshadowed by the crease of his brow. The myriad of choices spread out before him in a web of options, every implication has a knock-on effect. He ponders the possibility becoming a mindflayer would destabilise the netherese orb in his chest - detonation would be catastrophic. What becoming a mindflayer in the first place would entail. A chance he could figure out how to undo ceremorphosis - a conundrum that many have failed to solve but with his magical prowess...? The ability to wield the Netherstones is tantalising - he would be close - he would be so close to the crown. To power that would rival the gods. He would be a good, just god. He understands mortal plights and their follies all too well. But no, he has people depending on him, friends who trust him dearly (and expect him to do better). He shan't make the same mistake as before. His hubris shall not get the better of him.