Enrolled in Epicness - A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic

12. The Enemy's Plan

Myrkul's terrifying chosen, revived via a weird contraption, was too important to ignore. Still invisible, Astarion chanced it and slid inside the hall for a closer look. Balthazar and General Thorm, thankfully, were busy speaking and didn't notice him.

"... Revenge, Balthazar, albeit a lowly desire, remains a priority."

The necromancer nodded. "Of course, General. My spies have located the blonde Aasimar—"

"Where?!"

"She's at the enemy camp... alongside your daughter."

Ketheric's face twisted into a foreboding snarl. "Then we shall attack as soon as I am fully recovered. I want that wretch back in chains and Isobel under my supervision."

"Understood, General, although I must mention the illithids." Balthazar looked back, and Astarion froze on the spot. Luckily, the spell still hid him from sight, and the necromancer continued. "I... borrowed their technology for the ritual. They're rather sore about it."

"Then we shall crush the tentacled scum as well. Finish draining the assets so I can lay waste to them all."

Balthazar looked at the vats. "Unfortunately, I cannot hasten the process, but know that your enemy is here, fueling your return with her very life."

Ketheric uttered a dark chuckle. "A fitting punishment for her impertinence. We've come too far, Balthazar. Do not fail me now."

The necromancer bowed. That seemed like a fitting moment to leave, so Astarion stepped toward the entrance. His feet seemed unusually... visible. "Oh, shite," he whispered, peeking backward. His eyes met those of a scowling Balthazar.

"How wonderful of you to join us, elf. We can use another fitting subject."

Astarion put on a fake smile. "I'm undead, Balthi. You'll get very little life from me."

"Fortunately, this illithid technology can adjust to accommodate people of your... disposition." The necromancer raised a hand, and his lackey did the same.

Buggering bugbears! Astarion sprinted away. A green ray exploded on a tile by his feet. Why couldn't that dumb invisibility scroll last just a minute longer?! He reached the open doors when a second spell blasted him. The world spun as he tumbled to the floor, landing on his back. His sword arm felt odd... unresponsive. A lemon-sized chunk of flesh was missing; green smoke and a pungent stench rose from the wound. There was no time for shock, though—the two necromancers were preparing more spells. He leaped off the ground and bolted.

His feet crossed the threshold right as a necrotic beam missed his back. In the first hall, many Sahuagin and ghouls were lying dead on the floor, but the battle raged on. Swinging his rapier with that grotesque injury was out of the question, so he dashed to the exit, avoiding the enormous flesh golem, dodging spears and paralyzing claws. Soon, he'd escape the frantic melee and—His thoughts evaporated into nothing. A low hum pounded at his ears while an invisible vise squeezed his brain. Somehow, he'd landed on the floor, and the room continued spinning around his head.

The mind flayer approached with measured steps. Its Mind Blast left Astarion stunned and dizzy. He tried picking himself up, but his strength failed. The creature's tentacles wiggled in excitement, and the tadpole shrieked in terror. If he wouldn't shake off the daze, that was it—the illithid kiss of death. He struggled to reach the dagger with his good hand... one solid stab to the face, to save his brain from becoming a gruesome meal... too late. The eldritch abomination raised a slimy hand, and he floated above the floor, pulled by telekinesis toward the lipless, salivating mouth.