Gang of Weirdos

twenty three - the gauntlet + a deal with a devil

Things went really face-paced from there. As we approached the entrance to the mausoleum, the cambion known as Raphael making a sudden appearance and expressing interest in our blight. We wormed a deal out of him; information on the scars on Astarion's back, in exchange for us killing an orthon for him.

And with that we made our way through the gauntlet; where we ended up killing one Balthazar, and several of his minions. We killed the orthon for Raphael as well, and the many tough minions at its side. There was even a displacer beast amongst the group.

We faced many trials; Shadowheart guiding us through each one with ease. Until eventually we made our way to the inner sanctum. Here Shadowheart took a moment to pray, before we descended our way into the shadowfell.

It was in this moment, as we made our way down to the platform below, that the Nightsong was not a relic- but a person. My heart skipped a beat, and I no longer knew if bringing this Nightsong- this person- to Ketheric was a good idea after all.

And as I watched Shadowheart regard the Nightsong, it was then that I knew the Nightsong was meant for Shadowheart to kill. The Nightsong watched her in silence, her narrowed gaze fixated on Shadowheart- a woman who knew her fate. She was meant to be killed over and over again, so that worshippers of Shar alike Shadowheart could ascend to be a Dark Justiciar.

So Shadowheart raised the spear we had found above her head, moving as if to strike down the woman chained before us. Her face twisted in anguish. I held my breath as I watched. And then all the tension in her released, and she twisted to throw the spear over the edge of the platform we were on. She sagged before us then, before the woman she had just spared. Her breathing was heavier.

"I- I can't believe I just did that," she whispered. The Nightsong stood as Shadowheart spoke. "Shar will disown me. What will happen to me?"

"Not what will happen," The Nightsong spoke. "What will you do? Your past is not yet lost, and your future is not yet fixed. Lay a hand on me in friendship, and I will fight the battle that has been waiting for me this last century. Then- oh then, we will have much to discuss."

The Nightsong got down on one knee, and bent her head forward. Shadowheart stood there in silence a moment- we all did- and then she tentatively reached out a hand. The Nightsong almost seemed to flinch when Shadowheart's hand finally came to rest on her shoulder. The Nightsong further bowed her head, and then got down on all fours. When she began slamming her fist into the ground, against the sigil beneath her, she also began to speak.

"Our Lady of Silver, hear me," the Nightsong said. "She who guides, the moonmaiden Selune- mother of the so-called Nightsong. The Nightsong is no more!"

Her words got louder and louder. A beautiful, silver light began to flow through her. As she stood from the ground, the glow became ever brighter, and soon a beautiful suit of armor began to appear wrapped around her person. She raised a hand into the air, and a beautiful sword formed there just as brilliant, white, feathered wings sprouted from her back. Those wings lifted her just slightly into the air.

We all watched the scene in awe. Her feet touched the ground once more, the brilliant glow fading from her body.

"I am resplendent," she began again. She stood before Shadowheart, looking down at her with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat. "You have given me a gift, little warrior. Don't you find it oh-so-curious that you would spurn your Dark Lady?"

The Nightsong went on for a little bit, revealing that she knew more of Shadowheart's past than Shadowheart herself. And then she turned to the group as a whole.

"Are you ready?" the Nightsong asked.

Shadowheart exchanged a glance with me, before turning back toward the Nightsong.

"Ready for what?" Shadowheart asked.

"To kill Ketheric Thorm," the Nightsong replied, her expression twisting in anger. There was a bite to her voice. With that she bent low to the ground, her wings spreading outward. She jumped into the air and with those great wings beating the air, she flew into the sky.

A portal out of the shadowfell appeared before us then. When we stepped through it, we appeared at the entrance to the mausoleum once more. Shadowheart fell to her knees, resting her hands over the tops of her thighs. Astarion and Gale watched with furrowed brows. I reached a hand out toward her, but stopped once she spoke.

"Well, I'm exhausted," she said slowly. "That was one very long day indeed. Is anyone else wanting to set up camp and sleep?"

"At a time like this?" I asked.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," Shadowheart said with a wave of her hand, standing up.

Astarion and I exchanged looks- his of mischief, and mine of confusion. With that we began to set up camp.