With a fierce yell, she swung her weapon, the blade cleaving through the beast's forelimb with a sickening crunch. Blood spurted, staining the ground, but the allosaurus barely faltered. It retaliated with a sweep of its massive clawed arm, the blow striking Karlach with the force of a battering ram. She flew backward, crashing into a towering tree. The impact shattered the trunk, sending splinters flying like shrapnel.
“Karlach!” Astarion shouted, his psionic energy flaring to life in a crimson glow. His armor shimmered and solidified, covering his lithe form like an ethereal second skin. Without hesitation, he darted toward the beast, moving faster than humanly possible.
The allosaurus snapped its massive jaws, aiming to crush him, but Astarion was quicker. He leaped onto the creature’s snout, balancing precariously as he drove his glowing fist into its left eye. The strike landed with a sickening squelch, and the beast roared in pain, thrashing violently.
Despite the chaos, Karlach staggered to her feet. She wiped blood from her lip, the flames of her dragon heart roaring back to life. Her grin was feral as she charged back into the fight. “You think that’s enough to take me down? Try harder!” she bellowed.
The allosaurus turned its attention to her, swinging its tail like a massive whip. Karlach planted her feet, raising her axe to block the blow. The tail struck with a force that sent shockwaves through the ground, but Karlach held firm, gritting her teeth as the sheer power of the attack sent sparks flying from her axe.
Meanwhile, Astarion hammered at its armored skull, his fists leaving cracks in the thick bone. The beast bucked wildly, trying to shake him off, but he clung on with inhuman tenacity.
Karlach took advantage of the distraction, aiming for the creature’s hind leg. Her axe struck true, severing the tendons with a gruesome spray of blood. The allosaurus roared in agony, collapsing onto one knee.
But it wasn’t done yet.
The allosaurus lashed out with its claws, catching Karlach in the side. The blow tore through her scales, leaving deep gashes. She stumbled but refused to fall, the flames of her dragon heart sealing the wounds as quickly as they formed. “Nice try, big guy,” she growled, gripping her axe tighter.
The beast twisted its neck, snapping at Astarion, who narrowly avoided its serrated teeth. He retaliated with a psionic-empowered strike, driving his fist into its other eye. The allosaurus roared, blinded and thrashing in a frenzy.
But then, the jungle trembled again.
From the shadows emerged another predator—a second allosaurus, even larger than the first. Its scales shimmered with a dark, iridescent sheen, and its eyes burned with primal intelligence.
“Bloody hell,” Astarion muttered, glancing at the new threat. “Double the trouble?”
Karlach wiped sweat from her brow, her grin widening despite the odds. “Now it’s a party.”
The second allosaurus charged with terrifying speed, aiming for Karlach. She ducked under its snapping jaws, swinging her axe upward in a fiery arc. The blade connected with its neck, leaving a deep gash but not enough to bring it down.
Astarion, still perched on the first beast, leaped off and landed in front of the second. His psionic energy surged as he braced himself, catching its snapping jaws with both hands. His enhanced strength held the creature’s maw open as it thrashed and roared.
“Karlach! Little help!” he shouted, sweat dripping down his face.
Karlach didn’t hesitate. With a fierce yell, she charged forward, her axe blazing like a comet. She swung with all her might, the blade cleaving through the creature’s neck in a single, devastating blow. The second allosaurus crumpled to the ground, its head rolling a few feet away.
The first beast, now blind and crippled, let out one final roar of defiance. Astarion and Karlach turned toward it, their breaths heavy but their resolve unshaken.
“Together?” Karlach asked, raising her axe.
“Always,” Astarion replied, his fists glowing with psionic energy.
In unison, they charged. Karlach’s axe struck the beast’s throat, while Astarion drove his fist into its cracked skull. The combined force was too much. The allosaurus let out a low, guttural groan before collapsing in a lifeless heap.
The jungle’s damp silence clung to them like a second skin as Karlach and Astarion surveyed the aftermath of their fight. Blood soaked the ground, steaming faintly in the humid air. Despite their weariness, neither of them seemed eager to linger—yet curiosity pulled them forward.
“Well,” Karlach muttered, propping herself against her axe, “I hope that trident—what was it called? Niri—”
“Nyrulna,” Astarion corrected without looking up, brushing bits of bone and gore from his gloves.
“Whatever. I’m gonna need a drink after this.”
Astarion let out a tired chuckle, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll take wine—and perhaps a comb. This humidity is murder on my hair.”
Their laughter was short but genuine, a shared release after the chaos. Then Astarion’s gaze drifted to the massive corpse of the larger allosaurus, and he crouched beside it, inspecting its mangled remains. His sharp eyes caught on its claws, jagged and long enough to rival a short sword.
“Karlach, would you mind cleaving this claw off?” he asked, gesturing at one of the beast’s bloodied talons.
She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Astarion rolled his eyes theatrically. “Alex asked us to bring him something, and I’d rather not return empty-handed. Consider it a souvenir.”
Karlach grinned, hefting her axe. “Sure thing.” With one decisive swing, she severed the claw cleanly, the impact sending tremors up her arms. She handed it to Astarion, who slid it into his satchel. They repeated the process with the smaller lizards, the macabre trophies rattling in his bag.
But as they prepared to move on, Karlach froze. “Astarion,” she called, her voice unusually quiet.
“What is it now?” Astarion asked as he approached, but his words died on his lips when he saw it.
A skull—enormous and ancient—jutted from a nearby hill, its surface overgrown with moss and vines. The sheer size of it dwarfed even Karlach, who stood transfixed.
“This… this was no ordinary beast,” Astarion muttered, his voice low.
Karlach stepped closer, running her hand along the jagged edges of a tooth as large as her forearm. “Five meters at least,” she murmured, pacing from the tip of the snout to the back of the skull. “This guy was huge.”
Nearby, the remnants of its ribcage sprawled like broken towers, scattered among the undergrowth. The sight was both awe-inspiring and unnerving. Karlach punched one of the massive teeth loose, handing it to Astarion without a word. He slipped it into his satchel alongside the claws, his movements slow and deliberate.
As they explored further, their surroundings grew eerier. Bones littered the ground, and the remains of those who were send here before them told a grim story. Broken weapons, shattered shields, and tattered scraps of armor were all that remained of unlucky adventurers.
Karlach crouched by a rusted blade, her expression hardening. “What a way to go—eaten alive by some damned lizard in the middle of nowhere.”
Astarion glanced at her with a shrug, his tone detached. “Their loss. Doesn’t concern me.”
He moved toward a cave mouth to their right, curiosity driving him forward. The dim light inside glinted off something sharp, and the faint rumble of shifting stone echoed within.
Karlach followed cautiously, gripping her axe tightly. When she reached the entrance, she saw Astarion standing over another feathered lizard, its neck freshly broken. Her attention, however, was drawn to the skull embedded in the cave wall—a serpentine monstrosity, its jawbones stretched wide in a perpetual hiss. Its spine was spiked, and three sets of ridges that looked more like horns sprouted from the sides of the skull.
“That was a huge snake...” Karlach said, staring at the fossilized remains." What's the things with oversize lizards in this place ?"
Astarion tilted his head, studying the hooked teeth protruding from the skull. “Do you know what it is?”
Karlach shook her head. “No clue. And honestly? I don’t want to found out.”
Undeterred, Astarion climbed the fossil, knocking one of its curved teeth loose and adding it to his collection. As he stood atop the skull, his eyes caught something further inside the cave—a faint glint of light, high up in an alcove.
“What’s that?” he murmured to himself, leaping higher to reach the opening.
Karlach stayed below, scanning the dimly lit space. Her gaze landed on a still figure in the shadows—a woman slumped against the wall. The body was fresh, her neck savagely torn open, blood pooling around her. Her clothes and gear marked her as an adventurer, though her weapons remained sheathed at her side.
Karlach crouched beside the injured woman, her dragon heart burning with urgency. Her breaths quickened as she saw the faint rise and fall of the stranger’s chest, the sluggish rhythm of life clinging to a body so close to death. Blood seeped from the ghastly wound at her neck, the deep gash a savage testament to the jungle’s cruelty.
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“She’s… alive?” Karlach whispered, her voice a mixture of hope and dread.
Without hesitation, she tore a strip from her shirt, wrapping it tightly around the wound. The makeshift bandage darkened almost immediately, but it slowed the bleeding enough to buy precious moments.
“Hold on,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the oppressive silence of the cave. “Just hold on.”
As she secured the cloth, her eyes caught on something nearby—a glint of metal and bone protruding from the shadows. She rose, her boots crunching against the rocky floor as she approached. It was a skeleton, its bony fingers clutching an ancient, leather-bound journal. The cover was worn smooth, as if the owner had carried it for years.
Curiosity overcame her as she pried the brittle fingers apart, freeing the journal. She flipped it open, her eyes scanning the faded ink.
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The sun had just fallen below the horizon when I first heard its call—a thousand reed pipes at once, whistling a single, beautiful, terrible song.
‘Uluu Thalongh,’ said Jaw. ‘It’s coming.’
Jaw dropped her pack and scurried up the nearest tree. With a bit more effort, I climbed a tree of my own, and the two of us surveyed the grassy ground beneath.
Ah-wooo! There it was again, above and beneath and all around, so close my skull vibrated from the sound. The ferns and foliage under me rippled and swayed. Jaw held a finger to her lips to demand my silence—and in one motion, it snatched her. A vine? A tentacle? It hardly mattered: the hunter had found its prey. Jaw's screams swelled, then faded as Uluu Thalongh dragged her away.
I leapt down to give chase, but the creature left no mark behind—the grasses were untrampled, the shrubs unbroken. I had only the memory of that harrowing call to guide me.
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Karlach shuddered as the words sank in. She snapped the journal shut, her heart racing. “I hope we don’t encounter something like that,” she muttered, placing the journal respectfully next to the skeleton.
She turned back to the injured woman, who remained unconscious, her breaths shallow. “Dammit,” Karlach hissed, crouching once more. She hesitated for a moment before scooping the woman up in her arms. The stranger was light, her limbs limp as Karlach carried her.
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Meanwhile, Astarion had made his way to a makeshift camp at the edge of the cave. A skeleton lay slumped against the stone wall, its head tilted unnaturally, as if staring at the emptiness around it. Nearby, a worn leather backpack rested against the rock. Astarion crouched, inspecting it.
Inside, he found only a rotten carrot and a weathered journal. He flipped it open, the yellowed pages crackling beneath his fingers.
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I hear them. Hunting. Hungry. Always hungry. I'm safe for now, but it's only a matter of time before they find me.
Why did I argue with that stupid, loud-mouthed djinni? I thought he was just a showboating idiot. I never imagined he'd send me to Chult. I read stories about this place as a child. I thought it was a wondrous land teeming with exotic beasts.
But it's a hellscape of venomous snakes, insects, and scaled monsters that hunt me, day and night. I've kept them at bay with wits and magic, but I can't keep it up.
The monsters guard a portal—where it leads, I don't know. But even if I find myself in the fires of Avernus, I will claw my way out of it, find that circus, and burn it to the ground.
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Astarion chuckled darkly, closing the journal. “I wonder how long this one survived before their wits or magic failed them.” He mused, placing the journal back down.
As he turned to leave, his foot caught on a loose piece of paper hidden beneath the dirt. He bent down, plucking it up. The writing was hurried, the ink smudged.
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I've learned my lesson. Pa used to tell me I needed to stop with the tricks, that I'd meet someone I couldn't fool someday, and that I'd have to pay more than a couple drinks to be forgiven. When those miners kicked me out of Nashkel with nothing but my shorts, I thought that was the worst it could get.
It wasn't. Rock-bottom isn't when forgiveness is hard-gained, it's when you've laughed, threatened, begged, and cried, and they still won't let it go. I shouldn't have taken that djinni's shinies, I shouldn't have tweaked his wheel, and I shouldn't have rubbed it in his face. I've learned my lesson, Pa. Too late.
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Astarion smirked, slipping the note into his pocket. “Oh, Alex will love this,” he muttered, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Justice, vengeance, and a djinni’s comeuppance—his favorite things.”
He turned toward the opening, his gaze flicking toward Karlach, who emerged from the shadows carrying the unconscious woman. For a moment, the sight gave him pause, but then his smirk returned.
“Always the bleeding heart,” Astarion quipped.
“And you’re always the smug bastard,” Karlach shot back.
Astarion gazed at the portal’s eerie, swirling energy—a vibrant mix of blues and greens that crackled softly like distant thunder. The portal hovered over the stone column below, casting an otherworldly glow on the broken remnants strewn across the platform: shattered planks, a crushed chest, and the ominous skull of some long-dead adventurer. But what caught their eyes was the green chest, untouched and intact, its metallic surface gleaming faintly under the portal’s light.
Without hesitation, Astarion leaped gracefully down to the column. His landing was nearly soundless, his vampiric agility on full display. His eyes gleamed with curiosity as he approached the chest, his fingers twitching in anticipation.
“Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding,” he muttered, kneeling beside it. He studied the chest carefully, running his hands over its surface to detect traps. Finding none, he smirked, his fingers deftly working the lock. A satisfying click echoed, and he flung the lid open.
Inside lay the trident—a weapon that seemed more alive than forged. Its aquamarine glow pulsed faintly, as if responding to his presence. The three elegantly curved prongs shimmered like liquid light, their edges razor-sharp and humming with latent power. The shaft, a masterful blend of silver and aqua-blue, was adorned with intricate carvings that spiraled upward in a seamless dance of artistry and magic. The engravings along its base depicted ancient symbols—possibly of gods or forgotten civilizations—each line and curve imbued with a sense of timeless authority.
Astarion lifted it slowly, the weight of the weapon almost nonexistent in his hands, yet it radiated immense strength. The glow intensified, and he felt it—a sharp, searing throb in his head, as though the trident’s magic clashed violently with his psionic power. He winced, his grip tightening briefly before he dropped it back into the chest with a frustrated hiss.
“Blasted thing,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “It’s too bright. My psionics can’t tolerate this infernal light.”
“Is it cursed?” Karlach called down from above, her voice tinged with concern as she shifted the unconscious woman in her arms.
“No,” Astarion replied with a disdainful click of his tongue. He glanced up at her. “But it might as well be. The light—it makes my head feel like it’s splitting. My powers are straining just to keep me from going up in flames.”
“That’s a damn shame,” Karlach said, though there was a glimmer of satisfaction in her tone. She cast her gaze around. “Now, can you help me get down? I’m carrying a lot more than some glowy trident here.”
Astarion rolled his eyes but obliged. Gathering his psionic energy, he leaped effortlessly to her side, landing as lightly as a shadow. He placed a hand on her shoulder, channeling a feather fall spell. “Jump. I’ll make sure you don’t splatter all over the rocks,” he said dryly.
Karlach smirked and stepped off the edge, her descent slow and graceful as the spell took effect. She landed beside the portal with a soft thud, the injured woman still cradled in her arms. Astarion joined her moments later, his leap precise and controlled.
“Here,” Karlach said, passing the unconscious woman to Astarion, who recoiled slightly. “Don’t look at me like that. She’s not going to bite—unlike you.”
“Haha. You're so funny.” Astarion grumbled, awkwardly taking the woman into his arms.
Karlach ignored him, turning her attention to the trident. She reached into the chest and grasped the weapon firmly. The glow intensified, reflecting in her eyes. She grinned, feeling the raw power humming beneath her fingers. “Totally worth it.” she said, hefting it onto her shoulder.
“Shall we?” she added, nodding toward the portal. Its energy rippled in invitation—or warning.
“Let’s get this over with,” Astarion muttered, stepping toward the shimmering gateway. The portal’s magic crackled as he passed through, disappearing from sight.
Karlach cast one last glance around the ruined column, her grip tightening on the trident. “Here goes nothing,” she said, stepping forward. The portal’s light engulfed her, and the world shifted in a kaleidoscope of color as she followed Astarion into the unknown, hopefully back from where they came from .
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The filthy, creaking door of the decrepit toilet swung open with a jarring bang, sending a swarm of flies scattering into the damp, stale air. Astarion emerged first, his elegant features marred by a scowl of pure disgust as he caught a whiff of himself. The stench of the jungle, mingled with the grime of their short brutal journey, clung to him like a curse.
“I can’t wait to get my hands on that damned djinni,” Astarion growled, his eyes glinting with barely restrained fury. He grimaced as he inspected his once-pristine attire, now speckled with dirt, blood, and other unmentionable stains. His fingers brushed his disheveled hair, and the look of indignation deepened. “I smell like death warmed over—and not the charming kind.”
Karlach followed close behind, her heavy footsteps kicking up dust as they emerged. Her shredded clothes hung in tatters. Still, her eyes burned with determination as she scanned their surroundings.
They were back at the circus grounds. Children laughed and darted between tents, and the smell of roasted nuts and sugary confections wafted through the air—a stark contrast to the stink of blood and jungle rot clinging to the pair.
“There!” Karlach’s voice boomed as her gaze locked onto their friends a few meters to the right, standing near a makeshift performance stage. Relief softened her features, and without hesitation, she broke into a sprint toward them.
Astarion followed at a more measured pace, his eyes narrowing as he noticed passersby recoiling from their smell. People turned their noses up, their faces scrunching in disgust as they made way, muttering complaints. “Charming,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.
Surprisingly no one seem to bat a eye to the woman covered in blood that Astarion was carrying.
Unaware that it was Alex doing.
The group of companions turned as Karlach reached them. Shadowheart’s sharp gaze immediately swept over the pair, assessing the damage. Her eyes widened slightly at Karlach’s state—her clothes were torn, stained with blood, and barely decent. Wyll stepped closer, his brow creased with concern as his gaze flicked between her and the unconscious woman in Astarion’s arms.
“By the gods, what happened to you?” Wyll asked, his voice low with worry. He reached out, hesitating before lightly resting a hand on Karlach’s shoulder. “You look—”
“Like I wrestled an giant fucking lizard and won. Twice,” Karlach interrupted with a wry grin. “And this? Just scratches,” she added, motioning to her torn outfit . Her voice was casual, but the exhaustion weighing on her frame was undeniable.
Astarion, by contrast, appeared relatively unscathed, save for his uncharacteristically wild hair. His disheveled state might have been amusing if not for the grim burden in his arms—a bloodied, unconscious woman. Shadowheart’s sharp intake of breath drew everyone’s attention.
“Alex,” Shadowheart said urgently, stepping closer to the injured woman. “Can you help her?”
Alex, standing a few feet away with his piercing gaze fixed on the djinni Akabi, didn’t move at first. His expression was cold, calculating, as he raised a single hand and summoned chains of infernal energy. They sprang from the air with a fiery crack, wrapping around Akabi’s limbs and torso like serpents. The djinni struggled briefly, but the chains tightened, glowing with a hellish light.
“Move, and you’re dead,” Alex said, his voice devoid of emotion, the promise of violence hanging heavily in the air. His words were spoken softly but carried the weight of absolute certainty.
Only then did Alex turn toward Astarion, his eyes softening as he looked at the woman in his arms. He stepped forward, his hands glowing faintly with golden light. He hovered them over the woman’s neck, where a jagged, bloodied wound marred her pale skin.
Warmth radiated from Alex’s hands as streams of light poured into the injury. The golden energy crackled and pulsed, mending flesh and knitting torn veins with an almost otherworldly speed. The woman's breathing evened out, and the blood that had stained her body began to lift and coalesce in Alex’s palm, swirling into a concentrated mass. With a flick of his wrist, he formed it into a floating crimson orb and cast it aside, letting it evaporate harmlessly into the air. The color returned to the woman’s face, her lips no longer tinged with the blue pallor of near-death.
Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she stared blankly up at Astarion, her pupils dilating as she registered her surroundings. Astarion smiled down at her, his charm dialed up to its full intensity. “Good evening, my lady,” he purred. “You’ve had quite the ordeal, but not to worry—you’re safe now.”
The woman’s reaction was far from what he expected. Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face as she shoved him back with surprising force. Astarion, caught off guard, stumbled as she leaped to her feet, drawing two short swords in a blur of movement.