The Heat of the Moment

Chapter XIII: Master of Puppets

It had been two days since the capture of Duke Ravengard, Mizora's visit and Wyll's subsequent transformation.
The party had embarked on their journey to the goblin camp early that morning and decided to come up through the blighted village from the southeast.  It was eerily quiet in the area despite the lush green landscape, no hint of birdsong or the sound of frogs chirping - the very air seemed to be holding its breath. It wasn't long before Diana's keen sense of hearing detected the faint sound of people arguing further down the path, her mouth set into a thin line as she looked back at her comrades - Shadowheart and Astarion looked back at her wearily, not stepping any further. Karlach however, came to stand closer to Diana without any hesitation.

"We have a mission to follow." Shadowheart said sternly, jerking her chin in the direction of the blighted village. Astarion's signature mask of cool indifference had since replaced the weary look he wore earlier, arms folded over his chest as he cocked a snowy eyebrow at Diana.

"Don't you think we have done enough charity for the time being?" his voice lilted judgmentally, laden with a hint of boredom. He sideyed Shadowheart before looking back at Diana and Karlach, arms folded over his chest.

"It sounds like it's coming from the direction of the village. It's likely we would be running into whatever it is anyway." Diana reasoned, looking to Karlach for backup. The barbarian nodded along with her, baring her teeth at the pair of elves with a hint of disapproval. Shadowheart rolled her eyes and pretended not to notice, and on the other hand, Astarian smiled snarkily back at Karlach before throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Fine! As if we had any choice in the matter." He griped as Shadowheart sighed heavily, adjusting her mace on her back as she continued forward.

Signs of the Cult of the Absolute were everywhere - the bloody handprints marked on walls, rock formations, and in other random places suddenly began to make sense after the party ran into a dying man by the name of Edowyn and his two younger siblings, Brynna and Andrick, on a path leading from an owlbear den. Diana had felt compassion for the man in his final moments, and had knelt down to determine the gravity of his condition when the tadpoles had suddenly seized their minds, linking them together. In a feat of strength and self resolution, Diana was able to sever the link before the man could discern anything about her or her party members. In his dying breath, Edowyn told his siblings that Diana was a  True Soul and they were to listen to whatever instruction that she gave.
Diana had just instructed Brynna and Andrick to leave and get as far away from this part of the forest as they could, and as soon as they were out of earshot Diana was seized yet again, her body  moving of its own volition as if pulled by the strings of an invisible puppeteer. The rest of the party watched helplessly as Diana was held in a vice grip, internally warring with herself to assert control when she heard someone speaking to her. Jerking her head to look around, the very blood ran cold in her veins when she realized that she could not identify the speaker - and it seemed that the entire party could hear it as though it were speaking in their minds as well.

"Diana!" Astarion called, his voice laced with fear and muffled as if he were shouting at her from the beach while she was underwater.

"Why waste such a gift? All that knowledge and experience gone to waste." The voice was low and sultry, distinctly male, and seeming to vibrate withinin Diana's very bones. Her eyes widened in horror as her hands raised as if pulled by invisible manacles and glowed with violet light  - a surge of foreign power flowing through her like a conduit. Edowyn's limp body rose slowly from the ground and hung suspended in the air in the middle of the party members - all of their eyes turned to watch with mouths slacked, rooted right where they stood. Diana's hands trembled as she fought the psychic hold on her body, teeth gritted as she fought to separate her consciousness from the stranger.