Chapter Text
To say that Dahlia’s conversation with Gale had been interesting was an understatement – he’d told her about a book rumoured to be able to raise the dead.
And apparently (and conveniently), it was hidden somewhere in an abandoned village between their camp and the goblin horde.
“It used to be called Moonhaven,” Gale explained of the village. “I’m not sure if you noticed all of the Selûnite iconography while you were slaughtering your way through the temple yesterday, but this area used to be a place of worship and dedication to the Lady of Silver. Before Dark Justiciars ravaged the village and temple, of course.”
Dahlia had to admit, she had been so distracted yesterday that she hadn’t noticed at all that the goblins had infested a temple of Selûne. She should have known. After all, most of her monastic order worshipped either Selûne or Lathander these days. She should have realized right away.
But then again, if her monastic training had all been fake, maybe it made complete sense for her to have zero instincts to recognize the goddess.
Gale continued, taking Dahlia’s wandering thoughts for boredom. “But enough of that dark history. What I suppose matters more to you is that while this place was still Moonhaven, a Red Wizard called Ilyn Toth was said to have taken refuge here, and he would have brought his arcanabula with him. Considering that Ilyn Toth was from Thay, that book, likely hidden somewhere in his old lodgings, should contain a myriad of secrets for controlling the dead, including bringing them back to life.”
It seemed too easy to Dahlia. Too convenient that a book lay a stone’s throw away, unguarded in some dead wizard’s wardrobe, containing the exact thing Dahlia needed to bring Alfira back.
“Why would you help me?” She looked at Gale’s arm. The sleeve of his robe was long enough to hide the stump she knew she’d left him with. She wondered what condition it was in, whether the goblins had burned the edge of the wound clean or just let if fester. If she recalled, she certainly hadn’t made a tidy job of things.
Gale caught her staring and shifted uncomfortably. “Because I want the book, as well. All I ask is that once you use if to return your bard friend, you let me leave with it.” He brought his arm close to his stomach, as though he was keeping if out of Dahlia’s reach. “And then we never cross paths again.”
Dahlia looked at his face to study his expression more closely. “There are things you’re not telling me,” she said. He was hiding behind the discomfort of his injury, but there was more making him uneasy. His proposition was still too simple. “Why don’t you just find the book yourself? And what about your tadpole? And Moonrise? If you know a better way to remove these parasites, I’m not the only one you’re spiting by letting us head in the wrong direction.”
He scoffed at her. “There are several things I’m not telling you. You aren’t owed my confidences. I will admit that I have no wish to undermine the others in their search for a cure. I will also admit that retrieving the wizard’s spell book may prove too complicated for a single person to achieve on their own. But let there be no doubt – I am not making this offer out of friendship. I think that ship sailed long ago when you decided to sink your teeth into me.”
Guilt and anger flared in Dahlia’s stomach. She hadn’t meant to harm him, not really. It’d just been a fantasy that got out of control. And what had he been thinking, anyways, to offer his hand out to a complete stranger? He was lucky, wasn’t he, that someone hadn’t pulled him out completely to rob him and leave him for dead? Or that a mind flayer hadn’t found him first to complete his transformation? Losing a hand was probably the least serious injury she’d given to anyone since escaping the mind flayer ship. In comparison to what she’d done to, well, others, his injury was fairly benign. It didn’t make sense for this to be unforgiveable. There had to be more going on.
But saving Alfira was more important that solving this wizard’s mysteries. She would focus her efforts on people who deserved her repentance.
“Fine.” Dahlia said to him curtly. “Let’s search for the book tomorrow, before we return to the grove.
Then she left him alone in the night to get some sleep before morning came.
* * *
The next morning, Wyll and Astarion decided to join Dahlia and Gale in their search through Moonhaven. Aside from some straggling goblins, the village was empty. For the most part, all of the buildings had been left intact. Looted of anything valuable, sure, but there were plenty of everyday, worthless items that made it easy to determine what each building had been used for. There was a tavern, a smith’s forge, plenty of barns. They all looked like their the residents had just left suddenly without packing, although they’d more likely been murdered by Dark Justiciars.
As they searched, Gale informed them that Ilyn Toth had been posing as a healer, and it wasn’t long before they found a home with an unusually high number of potion bottles and medical supplies. In the home’s basem*nt, however, the setting became more morbid. An array of bones and preserved body parts carefully lined shelves alongside countless books on magic, medicine, and anatomy. Many of the books were focused on curses and on the undead.
“What’s the name of this book, again?” Astarion asked as he browed through a volume about vampirism.
“Necromancy of Thay.” Gale answered as he started to check behind bookshelves.
Dahlia wandered around dragging her finger through the dust that had collected along a large table. The tabletop’s wood was stained red underneath. She wondered if Ilyn Toth had operated on people down here. “Thay,” she repeated. “That’s where you mentioned this wizard was from.”
“That’s right.” Gale continued his search without looking up. “A city I would avoid at all costs, if I were you. They maintain a vast population of slaves, living and undead. The red wizards there are masters of necromancy to control the number they do. The best in Faerûn, I wouldn’t hesitate to admit.” Then a loud click echoed near Gale, and the bookshelf he was examining slide across the wall to reveal a cavern entrance. “Although perhaps not when it comes to safeguarding secrets.” He smiled at the revealed cavern for a moment, and then hopped in.
Inside, they had to fight off five animated skeletons before finding yet another hidden chamber.
“How long ago did you say Ilyn Toth lived here?” Dahlia asked, crushing the bones of the final skeleton beneath her boot.
“Just about a hundred years. That’s when the town fell, at least.” Gale answered, already moving on into the next room.
A small kernel of hope started to bloom in Dahlia at that number. A hundred years after the red wizard was gone, and his magic had still been strong enough to maintain control of those skeletons. Maybe that meant that his book would actually have the power to bring someone back from the dead.
Dahlia hadn’t let herself think too much about the possibility that Gale was right. Of course, she would have tried regardless, but it was only now that she was actually starting to hope that they might be able to pull this off.
“Aha!” Gale’s voice called to her from the other room.
She joined him, and there, caged and locked away, was the ugliest book Dahlia had ever seen.
The Necromancy of Thay looked like it was bound in flesh, like a human face had seen sewn over the pages. Glowing purple eyes radiated from the cover, and a large gaping mouth lay frozen in a silent scream at the centre.
Astarion made quick work of picking the lock to its cage and then handed the book to Dahlia. “Or, I could hang onto it, if you want?” He offered.
Dahlia looked between him and Gale. She didn’t want the wizard to keep it. She didn’t trust him yet, and he’d already admitted he felt the same way about her. “Maybe that’s a good compromise for now.” She figured that Gale would be less likely to steal the book in the middle of the night from Astarion, anyways, since he held no grudge against the vampire like he did with her. “What do we do now, to perform the spell?”
At that, Gale seemed to hesitate. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked to Wyll. “To open the book, we’ll need to find an amethyst that unfortunately lies somewhere below ground. In the Underdark, most likely. It’s the kind of jewel favoured by creatures devoted to Lolth.”
Wyll just looked at him and nodded, as though going into the Underdark was an everyday thing to do. “It seems like this quest will take a bit longer than we expected. Perhaps we best find the others at the grove first, continue with everyone together.”
“Spiders?” Astarion asked. “The key to opening the book is guarded by Lolth’s spiders?” He was tucking the volume into his pack. “Now why would you ever hold that piece of information back? And after the spiders, what’s next, dragons?”
Gale had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “That will depend on what we find when we open the book. It may not want to be read easily, so we may need to find – instructions – if you will. There is a Tharciate codex that could help, but that too is heavily guarded.” He straightened his back a bit. “I did mention that retrieving the book would be complicated, did I not?”
Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get out of here before the cave crumbles down on us.” Despite the additional measures they’d likely have to take to open the damned book, she was glad for what all the extra work would mean. The harder it was to open, the more powerful it must be, and that was what mattered in the end, obtaining enough power to defy death.
And with this new focus, the idea of Alfira’s resurrection became inevitable in Dahlia’s mind. The only question now was how long the process would take. It shouldn’t be too onerous to convince the other to help. After all, the Underdark was already along the way to Moonrise Tower, wasn’t it? So the amethyst would be an easy detour. As for the possibility of needing the Tharciate codex? Well, Wyll seemed to already have committed himself somewhat to appeasing Gale, so he wouldn’t need too much convincing. And Wyll would likely be able to convince Lae’zel.
Astarion had helped Dahlia so much already with Alfira, so he would likely continue to do so, wouldn’t he?
Karlach seemed up for any adventure.
That left Shadowheart and Halsin. Dahlia wasn’t sure how keen they would be to waste time trying to master necromancy. Shadowheart would probably go along with it if everyone else was already committed. But Halsin? Dahlia still couldn’t get a good read on him. He was a healer, so he might want to help Alfira, but necromancy didn’t exactly compliment druid philosophy. In fact, it was the sort of thing that druids probably found abhorrent.
Dahlia made a plan, then, to speak to Halsin again when they returned to grove, to try and make him realize that Alfira deserved to live. There must be a way to make him sympathetic. And Dahlia wouldn’t embarrass herself this time. She’d make him take her seriously.
The more she thought these things through, the more her spirits started to lift. The despair that had settled into her bones over the past couple of days didn’t feel as strong anymore, and she finally had something to look forward to.
As Dahlia walked back outside with the others, she felt lighter, energized, almost restless. She wanted action again.
“We should make for the grove, catch up with the others before nightfall.” Wyll suggested.
Dahlia thought of the goblins that had been lingering around the abandoned village. She realized that the prospect of their bloodshed didn’t make her want to recoil anymore. She was fixing her mistake with Alfira, after all. Plus, clearing out the goblins would ensure no one followed them back to the grove. “You go on ahead. I need a few minutes. I haven’t meditated in a while, and I need to regain my strength.” It was an easy lie.
Wyll and Gale were easily convinced and continued down the main road.
Astarion, however, lingered. “You’re not planning on having fun without me, are you?”
For a moment, Dahlia felt guilty. She realized that she was looking forward to finding the goblins, that her plan wasn’t purely utilitarian. It was, at least partly, to celebrate. Astarion wouldn’t exactly care if it was, but for some reason, Dahlia still didn’t want to admit it.
“Just dull meditation, I swear on my sanity.” She answered him.
Astarion laughed. “These days, I don’t think that means much. But I won’t pry.” He began walk away but then called back over his shoulder. “Yet!”
Then Dahlia was alone.
She took a deep breath and wandered deeper into the village. She remembered seeing a couple of goblins wander north as they argued. They’d been so preoccupied with complaining about being stationed here that they’d barely noticed Dahlia and her companions. It would be easy to sneak up on them and put them out of their misery.
Dahlia let her mind drift and connect to her ki. She tried to follow it as it flowed from her and connected to life around her. Mostly, it flickered into nearby weeds, some birds watching her from the crumbling rooftops, but if it made a strong enough connection, it could lead her to something bigger.
Eventually, she wandered close to a large barn near the outskirts of Moonhaven. Her ki seemed to hum the closer she got, and she could make out the faint noise of laboured breathing.
Just as she stepped up towards the door, a small figure emerged from around the corner.
A goblin?
Dahlia smiled and reached for her staff. Just as she was getting ready to strike, she realized it wasn’t a goblin at all.
She paused.
The creature was the same size as a goblin, but they seemed more skeletal. And they weren’t wearing looted armour, like the others had been. They were wearing a dark suit with a feathered top hat. They seemed, well, fancy, although still tattered.
Then they spoke to her as if they knew her. “Jubilant day! I have found your vile self at last!” They bowed dramatically for her. “I am Sceleritas Fel. Your loyal and ever-adoring butler. I followed you, my dear Master. We have been parted so tragically long.”
“What do you mean followed me? Who are you?” Dahlia aimed her staff towards beneath the creature’s bowed head and pushed him against the outside wall of the barn.
The creature squealed in delight. “Oh, we have been with you always. And always by your side, we will remain. I was so worried for your health during our long separation. But now that I found you, silly me, my fears were unfounded. It seems that you have kept killing without me. That will keep you fighting, fit, and healthy.”
Dahlia pushed her staff even harder into the creature’s chest. “Explain. Now.”
Sceleritas giggled. “I found you following the stench of that bard.” They sniffed the air deeply. “She reeked across the coast like a piece of dog-muck on the road.”
Dahlia’s blood drained from her head. It was the same laugh she’d heard before Alfira had died. The same laugh she’d heard in the Monastery. “Did you kill her?” She asked.
“Me?” They sounded taken aback. “The honour was entirely yours. Milady has always had her little outbursts of joy. I am but your humble servant.”
“I don’t remember it. I didn’t mean to do those things.” Dahlia protested. “Tell me who I am. Now. Or you’ll have a new hole in your body.”
Sceleritas grinned at the threat. “I would be honoured to offer myself up for your next act of shameless barbarity. And though I would love to regale you with your past triumphs, I cannot. I am forbidden to interfere. Our betters will not allow it.” They co*cked their head for a moment then raised their finger. “However, I would venture to say that if you were true to yourself, Milady, you may begin to recall your previous glory all on your own.”
They disappeared suddenly and reformed near the barn door. “Anyways, I came here today bearing a part of your dreadful inheritance.”
A cloak materialized in his arms and then floated towards Dahlia to drape itself around her shoulders.
“As well as a gift.” Sceleritas opened the barn door slightly, just enough so that Dahlia could see what was inside.
A bug bear breathed heavily as he rutted into an ogre that he had bent over a large wooden table. The ogre moaned with pleasure as the table creaked beneath her. The pair was oblivious to their new audience.
“I thought you might enjoy an opportunity to reacquaint yourself with some of your old favourite pastimes.” Sceleritas pointed towards the scene.
Dahlia suddenly flared with a familiar hunger. She wanted to destroy these two, to turn their moment of private passion into something cold and dreadful.
“Stop it.” She whispered to Sceleritas. They must be doing something to her, making her crave violence, just like the other times.
But then they suddenly disappeared again, leaving her alone with the unsuspecting couple.
Her head buzzed with everything that had just happened. Was that really her butler? Some assistant she’d had for killing people during her previous life? Or was this some trick? Was Sceleritas placing her under some violent curse?
She found herself slipping through the crack in the doorway and into the barn. Her doubts easily slipped away as she moved closer. The bugbear and ogre were likely allied with the goblins. It wouldn’t be right to let them go, regardless of the energy that pulsed through Dahlia right now. They were so exposed right now. She could do anything to them. She could murder them before they even realized she was here. Or take things slowly and make them watch the life fade from each other’s eyes.
As she neared, she looked at them more closely. The ogre’s face was resting on the table, facing the other way. She wore nothing but a collar around her neck and a crude spiked weapon across her back. She was three times the size of the bugbear.
He was naked, clothes and armour discarded on the floor behind him. A thick layer of fur ran down the back of his body and his shoulders. He held onto the weapon on the ogre’s back and used it for leverage and he pushed into her with a steady rhythm.
It was unexpected, almost sweet, to see these two creatures finding pleasure in each other.
Dahlia blazed against the challenge they posed to her – how best to ruin their moment? A small part of her knew she should leave, that anything she did next would be cruel, but whatever Sceleritas had done to her was too strong, and she knew that the best she could hope for was to black out again and not remember any of what was about to happen next.
A glint of metal reflected from the bugbear’s discarded clothes, and Dahlia stepped quietly forward. She found a small dagger amongst his things and picked it up.
Then she walked up behind him, smelling sweat and dirt and sex as she neared. His fur was coarse and damp with exertion. She couldn’t believe how close she was able to get to him.
She thought about whispering in his ear to surprise him, but she didn’t want to fight so soon. She wanted to take her time.
As she watched them, the ogre’s moans began to grow louder. Dahlia wondered if this was a one-time tryst, something casual, or if these two were in some kind of relationship, if they had found some sort of love amongst the filth of the goblin horde. Or maybe this was some carnal tribute to the Absolute.
The bug bear bore into her with patience, like he was focused on her pleasure instead of just using her for a quick release. She peered around at the ogre, and her eyes were closed. She bore an expression of overwhelming pleasure on her face.
Maybe love?
Dahlia moved like she was in a trance. She quietly reached up from behind the bugbear and placed one hand over his mouth as she used the other to slit his throat deeply.
Hot, thick blood gushed over her arm.
He jerked slightly but soon slumped in her arms, and she held his body up as he continued to spill out onto her.
Dahlia ran her finger along the cut in his neck, to open it even wider. She dug her hand in to gain purchase inside his throat and held him up from the inside.
She looked down at the mess he was making on the floor and noticed that his co*ck was still inside the ogre. The ogre rocked her hips back against him, wanting him to continue, not realizing what had happened, and Dahlia smiled.
That small part of conscience inside Dahlia was completely quiet now, replaced with glee at the opportunity before her. She couldn’t remember why she had ever tried to restrain her violent urges before, especially when they could be so much fun.
Dahlia removed her hand from the bugbear’s mouth and reached down to grip his still stiff co*ck. She pulled it out briefly, and it was slick and shiny from the ogre’s dripping c*nt. She lathered his co*ck in his blood and held it tight at the base to ensure it stayed hard.
Then, slowly, she guided him back into his ogre.
The ogre gasped with renewed pleasure and ground her hips backwards again.
Dahlia continued to pump the bugbear’s corpse into the ogre at a steady pace, matching what she’d observed before. Her hand became coated in a mixture of blood and ogre’s own wetness. The weight of the bugbear made the muscles in her arm scream, but she was enjoying herself too much to care.
The ogre’s moans began to increase again, and soon she cried out, quaking and clenching around her dead lover.
“Who knew a bugbear’s co*ck was big enough to satisfy an ogre?” Dahlia said once the ogre stilled.
The ogre whipped around, snarling, “Who said – ” Then her voice caught. Her eyes widened at the sight in front of her, at Dahlia holding the dead, blood-drenched body of the bugbear. “No!” She yelled, and then her eyes tracked down to what Dahlia was still holding in her hand. She blanched at the realization of what had just happened.
Dahlia finally removed her hand from around the base of the bugbear and brought it up to her lips. She looked at the ogre in the eyes, co*cked her head, and licked one of her fingers. It tasted of copper and tang, and she smiled as she slowly withdrew her finger from between her lips.
The ogre roared, and the sound seemed to shake the foundations of the barn. She lunged towards Dahlia, but the bugbear’s body was in the way.
Dahlia felt a tingling energy pass through her from the cape that Sceleritas had given her, and before the ogre could lunge again, Dahlia watched her own arms disappear.
The cape was making her invisible, she realized.
Dahlia shoved the bugbear’s body into the ogre’s arm and backed away, marvelling at the gift she’d been given. She’d be able to do so much with this power.
“Where are you, you f*cking coward!” The ogre yelled as she swung her head back and forth, trying to find Dahlia as she balanced the bugbear in her arms. “I’m going to destroy you!”
But Dahlia didn’t give herself away. She just watched in silence as the ogre crashed to her knees, cradling the bugbear. The ogre began to wail as she held his bloody corpse against her shoulder. Dahlia circled her and continued to watch as she mourned.
It was a horrifyingly beautiful scene.
After a minute or two, Dahlia walked up behind the ogre, and she brought up the dagger again. She cut the ogre’s throat, letting her bleed out over her dead lover.
Dahlia tossed the dagger back onto the floor, and she left them entwined in a bloody heap, alone again in the barn. She wondered if she would get a prize from Sceleritas for this, too.
As soon as she crossed the doorway and was back outside, the wave of violent longing that she’d been riding started to wane, and she felt as though she was waking up from a dream. Her regular thoughts (if that’s what they really were) started to come back, and she was disgusted with herself all over again.
Had she really done that? And enjoyed it? She’d been so calm, so casually delighted during the whole thing. Killing cultists was one thing, but that hadn’t been simple killing. It’d been, well…
Dahlia spat the lingering blood from her mouth. She didn’t feel as nauseous as last time, and that worried her. Instead of the panic she’d felt after Alfira, she just felt uneasy. Distaste. Anger at Sceleritas for the power they’d had over her.
It wasn’t a good thing that she was getting used to this sort of thing.
At least now she knew that this Sceleritas was somehow involved. She was sure they’d influenced her somehow. If she could find out more about them, about her own past, maybe she could get rid of these urges once and for all.
But until then, she wasn’t going to accept their influence willingly.
Dahlia ripped the cape from her shoulders and used it to wipe off the blood from her arms. She wound the bloodied cape into a tight ball and packed it away. She decided she wasn’t going to wear any gifts from them again.
And the next time they showed up, she would make them answer her questions.
