Chapter Text
The party had begun to feel the first signs of illness shortly after they first heard the voice of the Absolute at the goblin camp. By that evening they were all sweating, shivering, and hacking up a storm. No one could even look at Gale’s leftover stew from the other night.
Lae’zel gritted her teeth through the pain as she unsheathed her dagger. She knew what had to be done, though she would be the last to admit how uncertain she felt in this moment. “Did I not say our first priority was to make for the creche ? Now, due to our careless ambling, it is too late. Fear not. I will be quick.”
Shadowheart glared in her direction. “Speak for yourself. Though, if you’re so ready to fall on your sword, far be it from me to stop you.” She turned her attention to the strange artifact. “This thing protected us before. It might be able to save us now. If only I knew how to work it-”
Gale perked up at that. “You know what, Shadowheart? You might be on to something.”
“Oh please, Gale! She doesn't even know what it is, let alone how to work it.” Astarion scoffed, “It’s time we called Raphael. Wyll, how does one summon a devil?”
“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you that in a million-”
“Everyone, SHUT IT!” Karlach roared before Wyll could finish his retort. “No one is going to die tonight, and we’re definitely not making any deals with a devil.” She turned to Gale, “You said that Shadowheart was onto something. Any ideas?”
“Actually, yes. When the artifact activated earlier today, it was due to an outside influence attempting to exert its will over us. Perhaps if we attempt to replicate that influence on each other now, it might force the artifact to activate and shield us again.”
“How would you suggest we go about doing that?” Wyll asked.
“We use our tadpoles and, well, exert our will over each other.”
Everyone stared at Gale with apprehension at that.
“Look, I know it’s a long shot, but it beats killing each other. Perhaps we could command each other not to transform. Best case scenario, it buys us some time… Or it might expedite the ceremorphosis process. Difficult to say.”
This hardly inspired anyone’s confidence, but considering the options on the table, it was the best of the bunch. Lae’zel made the group swear, however, that if this plan did not work, she would then proceed with Gith protocol.
They then stood in a circle with the artifact in the center. After a count of three, their minds became one through their tadpoles.
And then… nothing.
That night, they dreamt of a mysterious guardian who promised to protect them.
That morning, they awoke with new problems.
--
Lae’zel awoke on the cold, hard, ground. The camp fire had died down to embers, and she felt the cool morning air on her face. She felt… fine actually, if not tired and more achy than normal. But she would take muscle aches over bleeding orifices any day. She ran her tongue over her teeth; none of them were loose, thank Vlaakith. It would seem that despite the implausibility of it all, the wizard’s plan had worked. That, or the strange dream guardian had something to do with it.
Except, no. Her teeth felt wrong. Blunt. She sat up with a start and brought a hand to her face, feeling bristles around her mouth. Was this what growing tentacles was like? She felt her nose; it had grown significantly larger. The next shock came as she got a good look at her hand. Her normally clawed nails were short and rounded. The hue of her skin was pink instead of green. This was not ghaik transformation as she understood it, but then, nothing was normal about these tadpoles.
Before Lae’zel could continue that line of thought, She turned her attention to her followers, still arranged in a circle. They appeared normal at a glance, albeit unconscious. It took a brief moment for her to register that something was very wrong with her head count. Gale was missing, and there was someone else in their camp. A disturbingly familiar githyanki.
Upon this final discovery, Lae’zel leapt to her feet and grunted in pain as her knees protested the sudden movement. Hells, she felt weak. What was wrong with her body? This… imposter had better have answers. She snatched the dagger ( her dagger) from where it lay next to the sleeping doppelganger and brought it to their throat.
“Wake up. Now!” She growled, refusing to acknowledge how different her voice sounded in that moment.
The creature wearing her face awoke with a yelp that was most undignified for a warrior of K’liir. “What in the name of-”
“I will be asking the questions, shka’keth! You will explain who you are and what you have done, lest I take this knife and remove your insides.”
“Now wait just a minute! You might be a handsome fellow, but I know for a fact you’re not my simulacrum, seeing as he should be in Waterdeep.”
That was when it hit her. Lae’zel dropped the dagger and looked down at herself with horror as she saw that she was indeed wearing the wizard’s purple velvet tunic. All the pieces fell into place. These hands were Gale’s; the bristles on her face were his beard. She looked back at her doppelganger, who was now examining their hands and face with a combination of dread and academic curiosity. They stared at each other.
“Gale?”
“Lae’zel?”
“What the-- SHIT!” Their attention was then drawn to the sound of Shadowheart swearing with more vigor than either of them had known her to be capable of as she jumped to her feet.
Karlach sighed deeply as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Her flames seemed noticeably dimmer than usual. “What’s the worst that could happen? He says. I suppose that’ll teach me to listen to a wizard who needs rescuing from his own portal.”
“By Balduran’s bones, I feel like death warmed over.” Astarion groaned.
“Gods, I’m gorgeous.” Wyll said with awe as he stared at Astarion.
Tsk’va.