Easter Egg: Apothecary diaries & Dragonheart

LINK: Twin Songs, Outer City, Interactive Map, World Anvil.

Light struggled through the windows, rain pattering against the glass. Tav had to make a concerted effort to find her footing on the inn's polished wooden staircase. Her mind aswirl with thoughts and her stomach aflutter with concern. During her dreaming, she had wandered into the Astral pocket of the prism, and if the Emperor was to be believed - was because of his exhaustion and lapse in focus. After finding out he had manipulated her, and everyone else; she discovered that every word from him was layered in subterfuge.

Nine Hells, dealing with that from her enemies was expected, and I'll tolerate it from my companions. But from him?

It was different. She was under no illusions that alliances can be forged on shaky ground, but parading around pretending to be someone completely different overstepped a line. One that Tav cannot erase or unsee.

Tav leaned on the banister at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get her groggy mind into motion. The dream encounter took more out of her than she realised. With her walls up, scrutinising the Emperor's every facial movement while he projected words into her mind, analysing every inflection and unspoken threat. Although she was relieved to gaze upon his true face; it was harder to read than any other she'd encountered.

Her hand ached, clenched into white knuckles around the banister. With slow, deliberate movements, she unpeeled her hand and wrestled her anger into moving her feet and continued into the communal kitchen. She raided the provisions and mindlessly spackled together the semblance of breakfast.

Duke Stalemane had worked with him? Under a guise or his true face? Did he warm up to her too, like he did to me? Behaving himself akin to an older sibling; one looking out for my best interests?

A pop in the pan brought her scattered attention to the present moment, one that required saving her breakfast from being burnt. Frowning at her choice of quail eggs and late season squash, she merely sighed and drifted to a table by the window. Staring out at the sheet of white outside.

'Manipulation or not, we need each other.'

No.

She slammed her fists onto the table, making her and the items on the table jump. She sighed, wrestling with her thoughts. Manipulation was for enemies, mutual temporary alignments and the occasional budding partnership - small things, insignificant things - not when lives are at stake and good people may die. The lump in her throat threatened to choke her, and she swallowed it down.

I won't be forced to stoop to that level again.

Another sigh escaped her after realising her eggs had gone cold. A moment of clarity surfaced while pecking at the eggs, and she vowed to exhaust all options. There was no choice but to move the pieces on the lanceboard against the Chosen, and the Emperor wasn't going to take any of their pieces off the table - especially not the Orphic hammer. However, Tav needed to move in the shadows on both accounts.

Nine Hells, on every front.

Her fork clattered to the table, and she lowered her head into her hands.

I need my crew. I need their help. I won't win this game alone.

---

The rap on the door thundered in the morning stillness. Tav's cringe was short-lived when Nyx appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, good morning!" Nyx greeted brightly, opening the door wider. Nyx may not always remark on the things she notices, but Tav was grateful for it in this instance. Nyx gave her a once over and asked, "Trouble?"

"More the aftermath. I'd like your help with the tadpole. Two of them to be exact."

Nyx set her mouth in a grim line and invited Tav in. She closed the door and said, "Astarion caught cabin fever. Went to go pester the others for entertainment."

Tav smiled. "Sounds exactly like something he'd do." She sat at the small table in the corner by the door, fretting at her braid while Nyx put a kettle over the fire. Tav said, "Toasty in here. It's nice."

Nyx mused, walking over to the table. "Hmm, I think you and Astarion were meant for warmer climates." She had her a knowing smile in place. "You're stalling. What's this about tadpoles?"

Tav chewed her lip and sighed, simply coming out with it. "I want you to teach me how to 'block' my tadpole too. Keep certain psionic inclined individuals out of my head."

Nyx nodded, pursing her lips. "My techniques didn't block mine entirely and I am concerned about." The kettle's whistle cut her off. She continued while tending to it and their tea. "I'm concerned that you may not have all the necessary training required. They are quite advanced techniques."

Tav sighed, slumping into her chair.

Tea appeared before her, and Nyx gave her another knowing look of amusement. "But, I'm sure I can adjust it to suit your experience, and perhaps we can work together to find something more... Attuned to your magic? I can ask Gale and Halsin for ideas too."

Relief shot through Tav, making her sit upright with the same zeal. "Tymora bless you! I'll take all the help I can get."

Nyx's expression became pensive, and she asked, "Do you know when he's listening in? Is he listening in now?"

Tav shook her head and sipped at the hot drink. "I think it has to do with my proximity to the prism. For now, it is in my pack, back in my room and no he's not listening in right now."

"Good, that's good."

"Which is why I'm also taking the opportunity to ask you to take care of the other tadpole." She made a face. "The Astral one."

"You still have it?"

"Didn't know what to do with it. The others I accidentally waved over the prism." She made an exploding star motion with her hands, relaying their untimely fate. "But this one seems immune to it. I was hoping you could... 'Feed it to your demons?'"

Several things passed behind Nyx's gaze, her dark calm assessing Tav for a moment. Whatever it was, she still wasn't ready to speak to Tav about it, and Tav wondered whether that had been reserved for Astarion alone.

Staring into the fire, a long comfortable silence passed and Tav finished her tea. She set the cup down and said, "I've spoken to everyone. We are unanimous in our agreement not to use the tadpole. None of us want anything to do with it and I want to make sure it is disposed of thoroughly."

Nyx gave a curt nod. "I'll get rid of it."

Tav beamed, so many problems dealt with at once and with such ease. She felt leagues lighter and sincerely thanked her friend.

Nyx laughed. "Like I said before. Anytime."

--- --- ---

Nyx gingerly took the squirming tadpole jar when Tav proffered it. She studied it through the glass while Tav made her way down to the living area below. Sounds of people talking and laughing filled the guesthouse between the pings of cutlery against plates.

Strange creature.

Nyx shook the jar and squinted at the oversized grub while it threw itself at the side. A behaviour a little too reminiscent of the demons in her head.

'Feed it to your demons?'

Nyx wondered how much Tav's bardic intuition had pieced together. A sliver of guilt panged in Nyx's heart for not telling Tav yet, knowing full well she ought to.

But things are under control again. Or so I hope. Besides, it's too risky to add unnecessary burdens to Tav's shoulders. Especially now. She carries enough, too much at times.

Later, she decided, turning the jar over one last time. Nyx unfurled her whiskers, stuck one to the jar, and pulled on a thread of magic from the portal. Its chaos replied eagerly, coursing through her spindle whiskers, filling the jar to the brim. The tadpole trashed once, then stilled, liquifying into a pool of goo. She returned to her room, cast the jar into the fire, watched the glass crack, break open and its contents blacken in the flames.

"One less monster." Leaving the room, Nyx rubbed the itching blemish on her neck.

---

Everyone revelled in the lazy start to the morning. Sheets of rain battered the windows, a thick haze blanketing everything from view outside. What the kitchen could not hold of her companions had spilled out into the living and dining areas of the inn's guesthouse. Tav had her nose in the Gazette, Gale carefully prying the puzzle pages from the back of the broadsheet while Tav read the articles in the front.

Halsin was busying his hands, whittling more chew toys for Scratch and Bean. A waste, in Nyx's opinion. Sure, their creature comforts should also have fun, but those whittled pieces should be sold as artisan crafts at Whitkeep market - not chewed up by animals. Especially at the rate Scratch and Bean go through them.

Astarion, Karlach, Wyll and Lae'zel were playing a game of Dragon's Draw. By the serious expressions around the table, Nyx relented on the notion of interfering even though doing so would have amused her immensely. Instead, she joined Shadowheart in the kitchen. Tav, per usual, commenced with the latest debrief.

"Half the broadsheet is singing Gortash's praises for keeping Baldur's Gate safe from the cultists' army."

Cue scoffs and snorts.

"The number of missing people are on the rise, more refugees inbound, vandalism and theft are becoming rampant in some neighbourhoods and apparently it'll be solved with 'Passes to Protect All'."

Tav scrunched her nose. "Duke Dillard Portyr has thrown in his lot with Gortash, who effectively is positioned to take over from the Council of Four and become Archduke. Inauguration date to be set."

Astarion hmmped not averting his eyes from the game. "Our Steel Watcher's gossip is confirmed."

Karlach sneered at her cards. "His greasy hands are besmirching my city. I'd like to chop them off."

Tav nodded. "And setting people against each other, since 'Your spouse may be a cultists, and how to report it'.", then shook her head turning another page. "Oh, this one is particularly interesting. Astarion, did you know that 'Vampires are not real'?"

"Hah! As unreal as the sun outside shining into my undead eyes." He turned to squint at the window. "Well, through the rain anyway."

"And the pièce de résistance is a 'Sanitation strike by the Kobolts'."

Karlach huffed. "Great, the only thing better than a greasy city, is a shitty, greasy city."

Shadowheart quipped around her spoon. "Perhaps the Vanthampurs should stop kissing up to Gortash and do their job."

Tav crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "A coincidence that the Masters of Drains and Underways is captured by Gortash only for the sanitation systems to start falling apart shortly thereafter? I think not."

Wyll piped in, "Leave it to The Guild, I'm sure they'll sort out whatever is bothering the Kobolts down there. It's not like the Underduke can afford her access ways becoming clogged up."

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it makes me eager to get on. As soon as the rain clears we make it for Sow's Foot. I don't know about any of you, but I don't relish an overnight in the Foot."

Those in the know made noises of agreement and concession.

Halsin paused his whittling to ask, "Why not?"

"A bit of a dung heap." Astarion drawled.

Karlach kicked him under the table, receiving an 'Ow' and a blistering glare. She flashed him her manic smile. "That's someone's home."

"Good, then it won't be mine."

Tav tapped the table with a knuckle. "It's settle then. When we're not at risk of drowning outside, we high tail it outta here and don't look back until we reach Whitkeep. I've a list of people to drop in on."

The rain gradually eased into a light drizzle, allowing their eager party of adventurers to carry on.

---

"What?!" Astarion threw his hands in the air. "This is daylight robbery - no, it's extortionary daylight robbery!"

A makeshift gate has sprung up overnight between Twin Songs and Sow's Foot. The boom guarded by surly, drenched Fists - their Steel Watch counterparts seemingly unaffected by the weather. Tav chewed her lip after delivering the news from the gate guards about the 'latest regulations'; stipulating that not only were passes required when moving between neighbourhoods, but now it should also be accompanied by payment of toll by non-residents, including those who cannot prove citizenship or provide trade permits.

Gale peered into his coin pouch. "Oof, my funds are not going to survive at this rate. I don't recall everything being this expensive."

Karlach rolled her shoulders. "Fucking Gortash."

"Quite." Tav sighed and announced, "We'll need to do some odd jobs to make up the difference."

"Ugh."

Gale asked, "Any suggestions?"

Tav pointed into the mist behind them. "Let's start with the notice boards at The Gilded Lantern."

The rain had abated, but its accompanying mist clung to Twin Songs, shrouding everything in a thick fog. Eerie silhouettes of buildings, people and the occasional merchant cart passed by. A structure materialised from the damp air. The long U-shaped barn had been converted into a massive hall less than a handful of decades ago, repurposed by the priests from The Church of Last Hope to extend their healing and religious services. People flocked to Twin Songs, since the priests offered aid to anyone in need, sanctuary regardless of creed and a place of worship for those devoted, indiscriminate of deity. Its emptiness was a stark contrast to Rivington. The notice boards were as empty as the slippery streets. They spread out in search of suitable work.

People weren't keen on answering doors, so Nyx, Astarion and Shadowheart headed for the local herbalist instead. Shadowheart and Nyx restocked on a few necessities and uncommon items while Astarion basked outside after the sun broke through the clouds. Nyx finished up first. Leaving Astarion to his basking, she headed for the Shrine of Many Faces close by - the regroup point. She spotted some of the others at the far end of the crescent-shaped shrine and made her leisurely way there.

Perhaps they had more luck.

One of the carved busts caught her eye, and Nyx admired the stonework. She wasn't clued up on every god, especially the minor deities, but the detail on the statue was exquisite to the point that it could have easily been real miniature scrolls and musical instruments encased in stone. Nearing footsteps struck a rhythm on the cobblestone behind, the sun drawing people from their homes. The shrine was peaceful and beautiful, drops of water glistening on leaves and berries of manicured gardens interspaced with the statues.

A nasal voice said, "More Rivington riff-raff."

Nyx read the plaque on the statue, 'Oghma'. Not that it helped her memory of who, out of the hundreds of deities, that exactly was.

The nasal voice spoke again, closer this time. "Hey, I'm talking to you, riff-raff."

She turned slowly, a petite girl staring up at her, a hand on her hip and the rest of her swallowed in a bright pink arrangement of detailed finery to rival the statue's. Nyx blinked at her. "Excuse me?"

The frilly girl waved a finger in Nyx's face. "You ought to ask, and be excused back to where you came from." Giggles drew Nyx's attention to more of them. All dressed in similar frilly finery of bright pastel colours, crowding Nyx in, scowling at her.

By the Abyss, do they not have anything better to do?

Nyx kept her expression and voice neutral. "I'm merely passing though. Good day."

"Daddy says its you and your riff-raff buddies fault." Other nasal voices agreed with the girl in pink's assessment.

Nyx started walking, but the frilly entourage simply followed.

Buzzing like frilly flies. Go away!

The glare she shot over her shoulder was misinterpreted.

One of the other girls gasped, "She's one of them. A robber and a vandal!"

Another said, "We should report her to the guards."

Nyx stopped, planning on asking them to go away nicely when the frilly entourage had her surrounded. Armed with lace parasols and determined painted faces. Nyx wasn't armed. She had removed her weapons while asking after jobs, wouldn't want to scare off potential work, and now the frilly, laced and bejewelled consequences were staring her in the face.

One in blue had the audacity to poke Nyx with said matching parasol. "We'll keep an eye on her. Jenny you go fetch the guards."

Nyx shot a glare at Jenny, who rooted in place, and the one who poked her wilted as Nyx gritted through her teeth. "I'm only saying this once. I am not some common criminal, or a circus animal. Go away." Her magic hackles rose along with her annoyance to drive the point home.

The pink one barged on, "We're not afraid of you! Do you have any idea who my daddy is? Touch us and you'll be sorry! He'll -"

A smooth lilt interrupted whatever nonsense the girl was conjuring up. "My, my. What is this? Are you lovely ladies lost?"

Astarion, in all his post-sunbathing smugness, stood on the opposite side of the crowd. His lingering attention made the frilly entourage wilt in an entirely different way - despite him being armed to the teeth. Nyx rolled her eyes when the girls simultaneously twirled their hair and batted their artificially extended lashes at him.

The pink one drew herself up and announced, "Caught one of those robbers and vandals we have!"

He flashed Nyx a teasing grin. "Have you now?"

"Oh, yes! Going to report her to the guards." The pink one said while the others swooned at Astarion's growing grin, his gaze lingering on their necks while they played with their pendants, which could probably feed the entire Rivington for a week.

Nyx narrowed her gaze when he placed a finger on his chin and said. "Hmm, she doesn't look like much of a vandal." He tilted his head, discerning. "A robber, perhaps?"

She gave him a flat look. "Why don't you come over here and prove it."

Astarion's eyes lit up, and he purred with challenge. "Maybe, I should." Nyx was sure the frilly entourage was about to pass out. He sauntered through the sea of pastel and gathered Nyx around the waist, drawing her into a light kiss.

The frilly entourage gasped in unison, clutching at their necklaces.

Astarion pulled away, licking his lips. "Hmm, not a robber either."

The stunned, gaping stares were priceless. "That's because you're one too! I'm going to tell daddy!"

He gave the girl a literal show-stopping smile and lulled in a husky voice, "How about I do things to you that you won't tell your father?" Running a hand down the side of Nyx's body and gripping her hip.

Interesting tactic. Might just work.

Nyx leaned into him and nipped at his ear, eliciting an appreciative sound.

Shameless tease.

The frilly entourage turned into a flustered spectrum of red, and he topped off the performance with an especially wicked grin, "You can bring your friends too."

Nyx pressed her lips together to prevent herself from bursting out laughing. The adolescent girl's faces oscillated between flushing bright red and going paler than Astarion. In a blur of pastel skirts, one retreated with haste; her friends followed in quick succession, some even abandoning their parasols where they fell.

"My sweet," he ran his hand up her body this time to settle at her waist. "Why did you not carve our their eyes? You looked ready to do so."

Nyx laughed. "As tempted as I was, collecting pickled eyes from rich merchant families' offspring is not the same as those from the real riff-raff. The former is more trouble than its worth."

"Fair enough. I did enjoy you playing along."

"Hmm, so did I. Thank you for rescuing me, oh valiant knight." She gave him a peck on the cheek.

He flashed her a lopsided grin and asked, "What did you do for them to accuse you?"

Nyx feigned being affronted, a hand to her chest. "Absolutely nothing. I was minding my own business and they did what most rich, self-important idiots do without provocation." She prodded one of the leftover parasols with her boot. "I envy people who go through life unburdened by the ability to perform basic critical thinking."

"Hah! What savagery, I'll remember that one."

She glanced at him with amused suspicion. "You, however, are far from innocent. Don't think I didn't notice them leaving less bejewelled than before."

He released her, held up his hands in mock surrender and purred, "Prove it."

She snorted and gave him a mischievous smile. "We'll need to find somewhere private first."

His demeanour took on a predatory edge, his voice dripping with delight. "Are you going to strip me down and rob me blind? I'm game, as long as I get to do the same."

Before her blush (or dirty thoughts) could get the better of her, Nyx spotted the rest of their companions and said, "Let's join the others, lest frilly reinforcements arrive. Secure our own strength in numbers and such."

Astarion chuckled wryly and offered his arm; they strolled along the pathway flanked by a splendid display of autumn flowers.

"What would you have done if I hadn't saved you?"

"I'd have made a run for it, taken to the rooftops, and hid behind Tav."

---

Gathered near Tymora's statue, Gale and Wyll declared they might have found work at the Church of Last Hope and explained what was involved.

Nyx frowned and asked, "So, the church is overrun with beasts?"

Gale amended with a correcting finger. "Undead. Their own to be precise."

Shadowheart scrunched her nose. "Did they not maintain their wards? Proper burial rites? Those sorts of rituals tend to prevent unwanted risings."

"Uh, I didn't think to ask. All they said was they needed help to clear out 'ghastly things in the crypts' that have been preventing them from entering for the last week or so."

Wyll added, "They were very distressed about not being able to attend to their dead."

Karlach stooped to pluck a flower, and guffawed. "If I were sleeping on top of a basement full of my risen ancestral grannies and grand dads, I'd be upset too." She took a whiff of the flower and placed it at the foot of Tymora's bust. Tav grinned toothily.

Still, several of them weren't keen on the idea of fighting undead until Wyll mentioned the payment involved.

Astarion quipped, "Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot of problems. Let's not keep the ghastly things waiting, shall we?"

Being able to admire the church's carved statues without being accosted by misguided teenagers was a mercy in itself. The ancient grey stone building was brightly lit inside. Torchlight caught shiny donations on the statues' offering altars. Coin, goblets, crystals, minor magical items and various other doodads. Astarion sneered at them in passing. Gale and Wyll introduced their group to the priests.

A scrawny priest with a bald head shook Wyll's hand vigorously. "Praise be! Brother Halran look, our prayers have been answered! The crypt will be cleansed soon."

Brother Halran, a pale elderly gentleman with a long grey bread and grey robes, was kneeling in front of the pulpit. He croaked from the floor, "Sir Egglemore, Sir Egglemore."

"Yes, Brother. Sir Egglemore will be laid to rest again soon." The bald one shuffled to his side and comforted him further.

Another younger priest approached, clad in indigo. "Please forgive Father Halran, witnessing a figure of legend and righteousness nearly cut down one of the acolytes in the crypt has troubled him deeply. I'm Father Liam, trust that I do not say this lightly: it's a gods-sent you came."

Tav glanced at Father Halran. "It sounds worse than we thought."

"I'm afraid so. We fear the dead may break through the crypt in the next few days. Something has angered them greatly. Enraged them to the point of attacking our clergy on sight. We haven't been able to appease them since." He sighed, closed his eyes and shook his head. "We have no choice but to put them down, only then can we cleanse the crypts of the malicious influence and restore their peace."

"Why hasn't the Flaming Fists helped?"

A scowl pinched Father Liam's features. "They are either too busy patrolling the shoreline and sending refugees back to Rivington or manning gates and harassing everyone else." He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, I shouldn't speak ill of our law enforcement. It has been difficult time lately and we are in dire need of experienced fighters."

"Understandable. Show us where we are needed and we'll take care of the rest."

He bowed at the waist and said, "May the gods bless you." He appraised their weapons and nodded to himself. "We can also offer blessings for your weapons and provide holy water." Father Liam led them to one of the adjacent rooms for preparations.

---

The crypt sealed behind them with a resounding thud. Magic lights illuminated the stone pathway, and Tav consulted the map Father Liam provided. With glowing weapons and vials of holy water, they forged onwards. The tombs were located two levels below their current position, and thus the initial journey was uneventful. However, they doubled checked any rooms they came across. These were mostly filled with shelves of spare supplies, busts of various deities, healing equipment and embalming tools. Nothing untoward or unexpected.

Karlach yawned, emerging from another room. "Clear.", she said and rejoined the main group. "Hey, Astarion when we find them, can't you talk to them? You know, ask them to go back to sleep and stop trying to kill people?"

"Hells, I thought I already told you that I'm not related to every damn undead." He waved a dismissive hand, and it cast a long shadow on the walls. "Besides, it doesn't work that way."

"Yeah but, can't you like have a heart-to-heart? Or erm, whatever the undead variant of that is."

His scoff echoed against the undecorated stone walls. "Do you know all the tieflings in the Sword Coast? Have a good ol' 'heart-to-heart' with every single one you meet?"

"No, not really."

"Then I don't either when it comes to the undead."

Karlach stood in front of the next closed door. "Oh right, I get ya."

"Excellent, I hope we've laid this topic to rest."

She guffawed, swung the door open in an exaggerated motion, glowing great hammer at the ready and said, "Aaw boo, this one is clear also."

As though the undead had heard her, a series of muffled noises drifted down the corridor along with the telltale stench of stale rot, but also damp decay.

Nyx shared concerned glances with the rest, and Gale remarked, "That smell is a little too 'fresh' for this place, isn't it? Father Liam didn't mention anyone being actually killed down there."

Tav swapped her map for her handheld crossbows. "Time to get to the bottom of whatever is going on here." She spoke the incantation Father Liam mentioned, and the stone door slid open, straining and grating against its frame. Glowing eyes of different colours stared back from the dark staircase beyond, and a terrible screech pierced the air.

The undead would not meet them in the light, so they brought the light to them. Lae'zel led the charge down the single-file staircase followed by flaming Karlach, both bellowing their challenge. Shadowheart raised her hands, and a ray of brilliant light burst forth, lighting up the area below, and the creatures screeched in unison. Along with Wyll, they rushed down, providing cover for those already there and those coming down the stairs. Nyx and Astarion poured on through, streaking arrows joining the fray of magic and gleaming weapons. The lesser undead fell in rapid succession; blessed weapons cutting them down effortlessly.

Nyx had exchanged two of her usual throwing knives for the syringe ones - or her 'spider fangs' as Astarion dubbed them. The name had inadvertently grown on her. Both blessed and laced with holy water made them cut through the bones of scorched skeletons like butter. Whereas weakened zombies couldn't regenerate fast enough before Nyx shredded them to ribbons. Although Nyx didn't take pleasure in killing - the efficiency of it was supremely satisfying, since experience had shown undead battles to be equal measures tough and infuriating. To boot, the undead stayed down once they stopped thrashing.

A strobing combination of radiance magic and streaking weapons disorientated Nyx for a moment, allowing a ghoul to come within reach. She dodged swiping claws between blinking spots from her vision, she retrieved her quarterstaff and reinforced it with her force magic for good measure. Her staff connected with its claws and broke several, their pieces flying and the ghoul howled flailing backwards. Crouching, she swooped its feet from under it; another blow mid-air drove the creature hard into the ground, breaking ribs; and the subsequent crushing blow to the head silenced it. Nyx stood and puffed out her cheeks, heart in her throat.

Still gruelling though.

Karlach whooped, holding her hammer above her head. "Yeah! That was awesome!"

Everyone came through unscathed, and Tav recruited Shadowheart to help 'quell' the fallen corpses.

Shadowheart stooped and placed the final coin-sized metallic talisman on the ghoul's head. She crouched to hold a hand over it. Light filled its holy symbol, then vanished, and she rose to meet Nyx's gaze.

Nyx inclined her head and said, "You have a knack for that."

She snorted and sneered at the ghoul. "What? Gravekeeping? I'd rather become a nun."

Nyx barked a laugh. "I meant, radiance spells. Always had, thought it might be prickly to bring up before."

She tilted her head, ponytail swaying. "And it's not now?"

Nyx shrugged and quipped, "Won't change the fact that you have a talent for it."

"Hmm, I am rather, aren't I?"

"Prickly?"

"Oh, ha ha. Careful, I have more quelling talismans."

They shared a chuckle, and Tav directed 'everyone's talents' to the next set of tombs.

Made up the concept of quelling, needed it narratively and so it exists.

I still feel a little out-of-touch with this whole 'city vibes' thing (I hope it doesn't read that way). So many people and buildings... Ugh. Which is exactly why I'm going to stick to my guns and do this extensive guided tour of Baldur's Gate so that by the time we're done - I'll be just as comfortable with it as I am the rest of the adventuring stuff. Or maybe it's because we're kinda still in 'setup phase' - gosh 50 000 words to setup Act 3... It's going to be a whopper...