Chapter Text
They armoured up and headed off to tackle Gortash. Everyone wanted to support Karlach, to help her get revenge for the perfidious actions of her former employer, and to crush the Absolute plot once and for all, but they decided that the original seven were best in this instance. Jaheira, Minsc and Halsin stayed in camp, with Halsin saving his healing magic in case it was required afterwards.
Wyll suggested a route that involved climbing up the outside of Wyrm's Rock. "It's not hard to find once you know it's there; in my youth I used it to sneak out and go fishing."
Gale groaned. "Please, not more climbing, I'm certain my knee joints are nearly ground to dust."
"You could always just Misty Step instead?" suggested Sorcha, laughing. "I'm not one to force a poor old man into exercise, after all!"
"It is a temptation, I have to concede that," he agreed. "But both Tara and now Wyll have started nagging me regarding the amount of physical exercise that I do."
Wyll leant over and whispered into Gale's ear, making the wizard suddenly flush bright red. Astarion nudged her, smirking. Sorcha chuckled quietly to herself. So perhaps Wyll is not quite as innocent as he seems.
In the end it was decided that the entire party would use either Dimension Door or Misty Step rather than scale the entirety of Wyrm's Rock and arrive at the inevitable fight already exhausted. Following Wyll's directions, they found themselves at an innocuous door hidden on a balcony set high above.
"If we are quiet and fortunate, we can sneak in here and avoid the main hall entirely," Wyll explained. He led them on a circuitous route which ended on another balcony, high above Gortash's chambers.
Sorcha could hear the man below, the pompous, self-satisfied tones setting her teeth on edge. Karlach was barely controlling her rage, but the plan was to somehow entice him up here, away from his lackeys.
Astarion found a lever that allowed a ladder to descend to the floor below. "I can sneak down, coat an arrow in paralytic poison, and incapacitate him before he knows the fight has even started," he suggested.
"Even better would be to use one of those special arrows that hit more than one target, if you have one left?" encouraged Sorcha.
"Eh, Fangs, I dunno. Something just doesn't sit right about mowing him down when he's paralysed," Karlach said.
"Tck! That kiir'vrahc did not concern himself with fair play when he sold you to the hells! He does not deserve the mercy of an honourable death." Lae'zel swung her sword, practicing her parrys.
Wyll nodded grimly. "I'm with Lae'zel on this one. Do not give him any chance if you can help it."
"Your call, Karlach," Sorcha said. "Do you want a vicious fight or do you just want him dead?"
Karlach thought for a moment. "No, you're right. It's far more important that he is dead, along with any of his allies we can get."
Astarion gave a terse nod and coated a pair of the special arrows with the last of his precious vial of crawler mucus. Karlach chugged a Colossus potion, towering over everyone more than usual. Lae'zel drank one of their potent Cloud Giant potions.
They gathered around the balustrade as Astarion quietly moved down the ladder. Sorcha held her breath as he wove his way around, avoiding the wall-mounted traps. A sudden clattering reached them, followed by angry shouts. Sorcha caught a brief glimpse as Astarion streaked back across the hall, scrambling up the ladder. She hoped that they could pick the Banites off one by one as they ascended.
It seemed that Wyll and Gale had other ideas though. Sorcha saw them both leaning over the balcony, tracking when the first of the Baneites came into view. Gale cast Sleet Storm on the floor below, around the ladder. Wyll topped that off by calling up the Hunger of Hadar. From what she could see through the magical effects, the Black Gauntlets kept slipping and falling supine, unable to escape the twin threats.
It would be quite comedic, were there not the Chosen of Bane waiting for revenge behind them, just as soon as the paralytic wore off. She could see Karlach, vigilant for her nemesis but still appreciating the scene below. Lae'zel was poised in the opposite corner, crossbow raised in the event that one of the Banites made it up the ladder. Shadowheart was skulking round the corner, saving all of her spells for healing.
Gortash, now sadly able to move once more, had managed to think his way through the problem by using Misty Step to reach them on the balcony. Still, better to fight him alone than fight his lackeys too, Sorcha guessed.
Gortash sought out Karlach immediately, casting some incantation directly in her direction. A vast spectral fist suddenly hovered menacingly over Karlach's head. Another word from the tyrant and some weighty magical chains lashed out, catching Sorcha, Karlach, Lae'zel and Wyll.
"That won't stop me, you fucker!" roared Karlach, throwing her hammer directly at Gortash's head. A shimmering globe sprang into being around him, and the hammer bounced harmlessly away before returning to her hand. Gale cast Artistry of War, sending six vicious force blasts through the shell, staggering Gortash and causing him to roar in fury.
Sorcha looked on in horror as Gortash seemed to grow taller even than Karlach in colossus form. He pointed directly at his former bodyguard, grating out the words "Sub inevitabile pugno cadere!"
A strange energy shimmered over Karlach but otherwise seemed to do nothing. She retorted by flinging a smokepowder bomb, knocking the tyrant to the ground. Lae'zel ran forward, yelling "Zai, zai, zai!" as she drove her sword into Gortash's chest, pinning him to the floor. Wyll blasted bolt after bolt of Eldritch Blast into his father's torturer, rage burning up across his face.
Astarion shot acid arrows into the mangled body as Gale hit the Archduke with a stream of Magic Missiles. An ever-increasing pool of blood spread out beneath him as Enver Flymm shrank back to his normal size. He choked, reaching towards Sorcha as if in appeal. Black blood erupted from his mouth, and the tyrant died.
Sorcha turned to look at Karlach, who still had the strange shimmer. She saw sudden panic on Shadowheart's face as the cleric ran towards Karlach, beginning to cast just as a spectral fist crashed down, crushing her into the floor. Sorcha winced as she heard bones shattering and the eerie sound of Karlach screaming, crushed beneath Gortash's final act of malice.
Karlach was struggling to get up, despite it being obvious that both legs were broken, and possibly a shoulder too.
"No, no, you stay right there!," Shadowheart insisted, calling up her strongest Heal spell. "You were lucky that curse didn't kill you right then - I'm pretty sure you would have been delivered directly to Bane if you had."
Sorcha held Karlach still using Hold Person whilst Wyll and Lae'zel straigtened out the bones and the blue glow repaired the damage.
Once mended, they could hold her still no longer. Karlach walked over to the crumpled body of the erstwhile Archduke, prodding it with her toe. "So Gortash is nothing more than a pile of flesh, same as the rest of us."
Sorcha looked down and pulled a disgusted face. The charismatic aura had faded on his death, leaving a badly-shaven man, with sunken eyes and a heinous haircut. Smears of grease and grime clung to his pores and in the creases of his face. "Perhaps a bit uglier."
Karlach shook her head sadly, eyes downturned. "Feel like I should laugh but I'm just too godsdamned tired." Suddenly she whirled around, facing everyone, letting out an anguished scream. "Is that it, then? I've killed the bastard who ruined my life, and now I crawl into a corner and die? Am I fucking missing something?" Even with Dammon's adjustments her flames spiralled higher as she lost control. The fragile chains keeping her rage in check had shattered at the sight of her tormentor.
"I can't do it anymore. Ten years, man. It's enough. It's enough. He's dead, and he's no fucking sorrier now than he was before," she screamed, booting his corpse across the walkway.
Sorcha was the only one who could look her in the eye. "He was never going to be sorry - his sort never are."
Tears streamed from Karlach's eyes, wreathing her horns in steam as they evaporated under the heat of her fury. "Then what was the point? I'm still dying. I'm dying. I'm going to die!"
"But you're not dead yet. I'm here with you, and I will be until the very end." Sorcha wrapped her arms around Karlach, heedless of the flame, trying to calm her. The tiefling pushed her away.
"No! Don't say that! Say you found some way to fix me. That now Gortash is dead, I'll get my heart back," Karlach wailed, her knees buckling as she slid to the ground.
"My heart. It was mine, and that bastard took it! I'm going to be as dead as Gortash any day now. Any moment. And what then?" She took a shuddering inbreath before more bitter words spilled from her flaming lips.
"Off to the City of Judgement to waste into oblivion? Into the dirt to get eaten by maggots? Is that it for me?! Is that fucking all?! And you - you'll just keep going, won't you. Watching the stars. Warming your hands on the campfire. Dancing, eating, making fucking love all night - all of it, all of it. That's my reward for everything I suffered. That's why I survived ten years of torment. The fighting, the clawing, the loneliness, the fucking loneliness... "
Sorcha was sobbing too, at the cruelty of this despair at a moment which should have been a triumph. "Karlach, I would do anything to make it better but I just can't." She sat down heavily next to her distraught friend, wishing for the power to repair this hideous situation.
"Whatever comes next, I hope you know that I'll be with you, Karlach."
"I just think I need to go be on my own for a while. Scream into the void. Get my head around all this shit," Karlach said. "I'll see you back at camp." She spat on the corpse and walked off, still limping.
Sorcha knelt to pluck the final Netherstone from Gortash's gauntlet. As she did so, the Emperor materialised beside her.
"So we have the final stone - I need to see it for myself. So innocent, but such potential. You have done very well indeed."
"Don't patronise me, Balduran. You played me, you played us all," Sorcha said, eyes narrowing.
"Don't call me that name. That is not who I am anymore," the Emperor hissed.
"Yeah, no shit!" added Wyll.
"I'll remind you all that without me you would very likely be illithid slaves to the Elder Brain. I saved you."
"Oh, let's just get on with it," Sorcha said wearily. "Where is the brain now?"
As she voiced the question,the Netherstones pulsed with psionic energy. It permeated her every cell, pulling her. The thrum quickened, rising, then cresting on a single feeling, a location. A vast, darkened, briny cavern, cold chill and dreadful malevolence.
The Emperor let out a breath, part sigh, part whistle. "A Morphic Pool beneath the city itself. So that's where the Chosen imprisoned the brain."
"We're not ready," Sorcha insisted. "We need a night to rest and plan. Karlach needs to recover too."
The illithid dipped his head in acquiescence and vanished.
Back in the Elfsong, Astarion had snagged a bottle of Arkhen's Hoard from the hoard of Gale Dekarios whilst Gale was occupied mooning over Wyll. Sorcha was waiting as Astarion walked into their rooms, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
"Astarion? What's wrong?" Sorcha asked the moment she saw him. He breathed out heavily.
"I'm fine, just a little tired. But there is one more big decision we should consider now," Astarion said, catching her hand in his and stroking his fingers across the back. "You know that all my victims were turned into spawn?"
"Yes," Sorcha said.
"That included Una." He spoke softly, staring fixedly at the ground.
Sorcha took a shuddering breath inwards.
"I've asked Aurelia to take special care of her, help her feed and adjust, so I know she's safe. They're going to set up a colony in the Arcane Tower we found, back in the Underdark. But before they head off, I wanted to give you the chance, to see her, if that's what you want?"
Did she really want to come face-to-face with her undead mother? Sorcha's first thought was to say yes immediately, to grab for the brightness of that lost childhood. But she had grieved, long and hard, supported by Luba, her foster mother. Did she want to relive that again, to see the harsh reality in stark relief to the softer strands of fond memory? She didn't know what she felt. Her heart was empty yet overfull, a vacancy waiting for some emotion to scrabble to the top of the pile.
There was something to be said for just letting Una go. She would be a very different person now, may not even recognise Sorcha. The mother she knew would have mourned for her lost child, was possibly still mourning, unless madness and the long years of torment had wiped everything but hunger from her mind.
"Does… " Her voice broke. "Does she… remember me?"
"Aurelia says that Una does mention a daughter occasionally, but that it distresses her. Captivity broke her mind, broke most all of their minds." Sorcha could see the tears welling up in his eyes as the weight of his actions dragged him down. She took hold of his chin, tilting his face towards her, and kissed the tears away.
"Don't, Astarion. It was Cazador's cruelty that did this, not yours."
Sorcha could feel him shuddering as he placed his head on her shoulder, trying to contain his own emotions. She moved her own head next to his and dropped the leash she had kept on her sorrow. Gasping sobs poured fully formed from her mouth, a lifetime of regret and grief and pain all held tight. They clung together, emotional flotsam on the waves of fortune, each a liferaft for the other.
Later, when both were drained dry and vaguely stable, Sorcha murmured, "I think decisions on Una need to wait until we've dealt with the brain, don't you?"
Astarion nodded agreement. "This could be the last night of our lives, you know. All I really want to do is spend it in your arms." There was a softness around his eyes, as if his honesty had rolled back the centuries for a short while.
"Let's not think that way, hmm? This is a perfectly ordinary night and tomorrow will be an utterly mundane fight. Wake up, smash the brain, home in time for tea, hmmm?" Sorcha said with a chuckle.
They undressed and slid into bed, a comfortable familiarity, like linens rubbed to softness. His scent was a lullaby that wrapped around her mind. Soothing bergamot, richness of brandy, rosemary for remembrance and the loamy scent of undeath, an entire neglected patch of secret garden.
Astarion dotted small kisses across her face, rubbing his nose into her hair, breathing in her scent. Sorcha felt herself relax, her body softening next to the familiar alabaster coolness of his skin. For this moment I am safe.
She wrapped one arm around him and slid a hand into his hair, gently combing through the curls, feeling Astarion give a frisson of pleasure as he pushed his nose into the crease behind her ear.
"Sleep, my love. Tomorrow will be here all too soon and you need your rest. I'll watch over you, I tranced last night."
Sorcha snuggled down beside him as Astarion deftly adjusted the covers around her to keep out any stray chill. She saw him reach for his latest book, a copy of Mysterious Moonshae that he had found on one of Gortash's bookshelves. Sorcha smiled as she watched him become immediately engrossed, then sleep claimed her.