Can I put my balls in yo jaw?
...
The road was quiet except for the tollhouse behind them, quiet if one ignored the constant thuds, cracks, and splintering crashes echoing out through the battered walls.
A chair leg shot through one of the arrow slits like a javelin and clattered harmlessly onto the gravel. Nobody flinched.
Shadowheart stood with arms folded, expression tight, her foot tapping a sharp rhythm into the dirt like she was counting each crash as if to make sure Karlach still had enough furniture left to obliterate. Now and then she tilted her head toward the door, lips pressed thin, then back again as though reconsidering the wisdom of going inside.
Wyll leaned against the nearest tree, one hand dragging down his face. His rapier was clean, polished, and sheathed already, but the man himself looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. He muttered something under his breath, probably a prayer, then winced when a muffled roar shook loose a shingle from the roof.
Astarion, naturally, had found the most comfortable perch he could. He lounged on a half-buried fencepost, one leg crossed neatly over the other, his chin resting delicately in the palm of his hand. Each crash inside made his brows lift in amusement, like he was watching an entertaining stage play with a thunderous ending. At one point, he clapped slowly, mock-applauding when a whole beam audibly collapsed.
Fin sat in the dirt a few feet from the door, arms resting loosely on his knees. His haori had collected a thin dusting of gravel, but he didn't bother brushing it off. Instead, he stared down the road with the dead-eyed patience of someone who had already accepted there was nothing to be done until Karlach finished… whatever this was. A faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement, though he didn't so much as glance at the others.
The tollhouse groaned, something heavy shifted, and then...silence.
A long beat passed.
Then the door banged open, smoke puffing out like an exhale. Karlach stepped into the sunlight, soot streaking her cheeks and a wild, sweat-slick grin plastered across her face. Her axe rested across her shoulders again, still faintly glowing at the seams, but her gait was loose now, satisfied.
She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and let out a long, contented sigh.
"Phew," she said, voice warm with cheer. "Had to let off a little steam facing those ignots."
Karlach glanced down at herself, brushing at her arms as the heat shimmered stubbornly off her skin. Flames still licked faintly from her skin, refusing to gutter out. She frowned, flexing her hands as if testing whether the blaze would fade.
"Granted," she muttered, patting at her smouldering shoulder, "the fire's lasting a little longer than it should." Her eyes flicked up, a grin returning sharp and bright. "How do I look?"
Fin tilted his head, a smirk curling across his lips. "Hot," he drawled. "Like sin in summer."
Karlach barked a laugh, tossing her head back before meeting his gaze with a spark that had nothing to do with the flames. "Careful, soldier. If I burn any hotter, I might explode."
"Promise?" Fin shot back without missing a beat.
Shadowheart groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Gods save us."
Wyll cleared his throat loudly, trying to look anywhere but at them. His ears burned red all the same.
Astarion, reclining still on his fencepost, waggled his brows. "I approve. The theatrics, the danger, the imminent combustion — very alluring. But forgive me if I'd rather not be caught in the blast radius."
Karlach only grinned wider at that, embers still spilling from the corners of her mouth.
Shadowheart narrowed her eyes, gesturing vaguely toward the heat rippling off Karlach. "Jesting aside… how do you burn that hot and still walk around without cooking yourself from the inside out?"
Karlach's smile turned feral. She straightened, planted her feet, and slammed a fist against her chest with a resounding thud. The sound was heavier, deeper than flesh on bone — a metallic reverberation that carried through the air.
"You hear that?" she asked.
The party went still.
Shadowheart tilted her head, listening. Wyll furrowed his brow. Even Astarion's smirk faltered. Beneath the skin and the fire, there was indeed a faint grinding hum, a mechanical rhythm thrumming like distant forge-bellows.
Karlach's grin softened into something almost proud. "That's not a heart beating in here. It's an engine. Infernal-made. Let me burn as hot as the Hells themselves."
Her eyes gleamed, fire dancing brighter for a moment as if punctuating the words. "Been running in overdrive ever since I tore free of Avernus. Can't seem to cool down no matter how I try."
She dragged in a deep breath, exhaled a plume of shimmering heat, and rolled her shoulders.
"Won't be seeing my mechanic any time soon, so I'll just make the most of the extra heat." Karlach's grin widened, fangs flashing. "Just don't get too close till I've found a way to calm it down."
Astarion tilted his head, his expression torn between fascination and disgust. "A… mechanic? For your heart?"
Karlach barked another laugh. "Wild, right? And believe it or not, I'm one of Zariel's least-mutilated pets."
That dropped like an anvil. Shadowheart's brows knit. Wyll's jaw flexed. Even Fin's eyes sharpened.
Karlach felt it, the weight gathering. She waved a hand, scattering the air like she could shoo away the silence. "But hey, it's a bit early in the game to be diving into tragic backstories, isn't it? Save the scar-show for later. After we've worked up an appetite for tragedy."
"Mm," Astarion said, lounging back again. "At least you know your timing."
Then another voice chimed in, Ali's.
"You know, that was a weird line. Felt almost like a subtle fourth-wall break. One of many, if I recall correctly.", Ali noted.
The others didn't so much as twitch at Ali's sudden materialisation, given they couldn't see her.
But Karlach… Karlach froze.
Her grin faltered. The heat still shimmered, the embers still flared from her skin, but her eyes suddenly locked, razor-focused, on Ali.
Not through her. Not past her. On her.
The gith-light projection flickered faintly as if uncertain under the weight of Karlach's stare.
Karlach's voice dropped low, her grin gone. "What… in the Nine Hells are you?"
Fin's head snapped toward Karlach so fast his neck popped. For a moment, he thought he'd misheard. But no — her gaze was locked on Ali, steady and unblinking.
His stomach dropped.
That wasn't possible.
Nobody had ever been able to see Ali.
Shadowheart glanced between them, her brow creased. "What are you talking about?"
Karlach didn't answer her. Her eyes tracked the flickering outline of Ali's form.
Ali, on the other hand, didn't seem half as concerned. She floated a little closer, her light projection humming faintly, head cocked like a curious bird. "Wait… hold on. Can you actually see me?"
Karlach blinked, the firelight from her body reflecting in her wide eyes. "…Yeah. Clear as day. And you're floating."
"Mm-hm." Ali folded her arms, tilting forward until she hovered only a foot away. "And you're not guessing? Not just seeing… heat shimmer?"
Karlach gave a short, baffled laugh and shook her head. "Nope. You're right there. Brown braid, weird glowing skin, floaty thing going on. Definitely not a hallucination, unless all of us are sharing the same bad mushrooms."
Shadowheart scowled. "We're not."
"Then who in the Hells is she talking to?" Wyll demanded, stepping forward, his hand hovering near his rapier. "There's no one here."
"Gods, you people are hopeless," Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes. "She's having a breakdown. Happens sometimes when the heatstroke sets in."
But Fin wasn't listening to any of them. His pulse thundered in his ears as he looked between Karlach and Ali. His lips parted once, then closed again, words strangled in his throat.
Ali, though, only smiled faintly, her tone almost playful as she glanced back at him. "Well, Fin. Looks like your secret's out."
Karlach's brows shot up. "…Secret?"
Fin's hand shot up like he could physically push the words back into the air. "Wait, wait, wait—this isn't—she's not—" He rubbed his face hard, palms dragging down across his jaw. "Okay, look, it's not what it looks like—"
Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, arms folded. "Really? Because it looks exactly like what I thought."
Fin blinked at her, stammering. "What you thought?"
Her lips curved in the faintest, cruellest smirk. "That you were crazy."
Astarion let out a delighted little gasp, his grin sharp as a knife. "Ohhh, thank the gods, I'm not the only one who noticed! I was starting to think I'd imagined the whole thing. The mumbling to yourself, the long silences where you nod like someone's agreeing with you. Very unhinged, darling."
Fin's mouth opened, shut, then opened again like he'd forgotten how language worked. "I—wait—what do you mean you've noticed?"
"Obvious," Shadowheart said flatly, shrugging. "On the road, at camp. Sometimes, in your tent at night, you hold whole conversations. Thought you were… I don't know. Meditating poorly."
"I thought he was reciting poetry to himself," Wyll added with a straight face. "Turns out, he's just haunted."
Astarion actually clapped. "Ha! Haunted! That explains everything!"
Fin shoulders sagged, haori slipping slightly off one arm. He exhaled through his nose, long and tired, before dragging a hand down over his face again.
"…Great," he muttered. "So all this time, you've just been watching me talk to myself like some lunatic."
Astarion's grin widened. "Yes. And it was delicious."
Shadowheart's smirk softened slightly, though her eyes still gleamed with amusement. "Could've said something, you know. Saved us all the trouble of wondering when you'd finally snap."
Fin groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, utterly defeated.
Behind them, Karlach hadn't stopped staring at Ali, confusion still painted across her face.
Ali, of course, was still smiling faintly, arms folded as she hovered closer. "Well, this is awkward."
Karlach finally tore her eyes from Fin to Ali, her voice low, almost reverent. "So what are you, really? Devil? Angel? Ghost?"
Ali hovered closer, her projection flickering faintly in the sun. She didn't look rattled — not the way Fin had been. "I'm Fin's companion," she said simply. "Nothing more you need to know. For the rest, you'll have to ask him."
Every head turned back toward Fin.
He straightened sharply, brushing the dust from his haori as if that might restore some dignity. A cough cleared his throat, though it did nothing for the heat creeping up his neck. "Right. Uh. Fine. The short version? She's… a by-product. Of my powers. Skills. Whatever you want to call them."
"A by-product?" Shadowheart repeated, one brow arched.
"Of what, exactly?" Wyll pressed, his voice carrying the edge of suspicion.
Karlach jabbed a thumb toward Ali, grin lopsided. "By-product's doing a lot of heavy lifting there, soldier. You've basically got a whole other person following you around. Care to elaborate?"
Fin's jaw tightened. He exhaled through his nose, then fixed Karlach with a look. "No."
Her grin widened, the fire in her eyes brightening with amusement.
"Why not?" Astarion drawled. "This is fascinating. Do you have any other invisible friends we should know about?"
Fin cut him off with a sharp shake of his head. "No more questions. Not now. Karlach said it herself — it's too early in the game for tragic backstories and grand reveals."
That hit the barbarian like a punchline. Karlach's grin split into a laugh, loud and sharp. "Hah! Oh, you bastard — throwing my own line back at me?" She slapped his shoulder, the heat rolling off her palm enough to sting. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. We'll save the scar-show for later."
Fin let out a breath, shoulders loosening just a fraction.
The others exchanged looks — Shadowheart still wary, Wyll uneasy, Astarion smugly entertained. But none pressed further.
Karlach, still glowing faintly, only chuckled again, shaking her head as though she'd found a new reason to like him.
...
The party agreed to head back to camp, given the extended fight they'd just had. Although it wouldn't be a true adventure if they left now. The tollhouse smouldered but held, enough of it still standing for the party to poke through the wreckage. Soot clung to the beams, blackened planks creaked with every step, and the acrid tang of scorched metal hung heavy in the air.
AS you can in the game, there is a key you can find to enter the basement of the tollhouse for some easy items, as Fin remember. Through his exceptional memory and help from Ali, the group managed to find the entrance to the basement.
Fin wanted to cut the door down, but given the likelihood of traps, left the lockpicking to Astation and Shadowheart. Meanwhile, Karlach leaned against a broken beam, rolling her shoulders as Ali hovered nearby.
"Still can't believe I'm looking at you. You're like a ghost I can punch."
Ali, smiling faintly, "I'd prefer you didn't test that."
Karlach smirked, heat flaring briefly around her jaw. "Don't tempt me."
The two locked eyes in a half-playful, half-serious standoff until Fin called them back to focus.
On the far side, Astarion knelt before the locked door. His dagger glinted as he teased at the mechanism, muttering, "Shoddy work. No art in it at all."
Shadowheart crouched beside him, brushing past a wire. "And yet if you'd blundered through, it would have taken your leg."
He shot her a sly grin. "Then I'd have hopped my way into your heart."
She rolled her eyes. "You'd be easier to carry, at least."
...
The door finally gave way, swinging inward to reveal a storage room lined with racks of gear. Dust clung to the steel, but some of it still gleamed. Karlach froze in the doorway, eyes widening at the sight of a greataxe mounted on the central rack. Its edge shimmered faintly, runes glowing across the haft, as the whole axe had a green aura emanating from it.
"Ohhhh, you're kidding me," she gasped, practically vibrating. She snatched it from the rack, testing the weight, a laugh bursting from her chest.
"Enchanted steel, baby!" She spun it overhead, nearly clipping the ceiling, before pressing a kiss to the haft. "She's beautiful!"
Fin raised a brow. "Should we leave you two alone?"
"Oh, shut it," Karlach said, grinning so wide it looked painful.
Shadowheart claimed a cleaner, and heavier studded shield reinforced with silver filigree. She tested the balance, nodding in quiet satisfaction before strapping it across her back.
"This will do."
At the far corner of the room, Fin kicked open a smaller coffer and let out a triumphant laugh as coins glittered inside. "Finally, something that actually matters."
The others all turned to stare at him with deadpan expressions."…You're really cheering over pocket change?" Karlach said.
Shadowheart rolled her eyes."Typical."
Wyll shook his head
Astarion smirked. "And he calls me shallow."
Fin's grin faltered under the weight of their looks, but he still scooped the gold into his pouch with unrepentant glee.
From there, the group left the tollhouse. Karlach striding ahead with her new axe like a child who'd just unwrapped her favourite toy, the others trailing along at their own pace. The forest swallowed them again, with shafts of light cutting through the canopy, birdsong echoing faintly, and the occasional crack of a branch underfoot.
Their way back to camp was also quite eventful.
...
Fin slowed as a handful of squirrels scurried across the road, chittering madly at one another. His eyes narrowed, then brightened. Without warning, he crouched low and started chattering back, sharp bursts and trills rolling off his tongue.
The squirrels froze, all four sets of tiny eyes locking on him. One tilted its head. Another squeaked something long and suspicious.
Fin answered like it was the most natural thing in the world, nodding sagely.
Karlach blinked. "Is he…?"
Shadowheart pinched her nose. "He drank a Potion of Animal Speaking earlier...He's talking to squirrels."
Wyll groaned. "Of course he is."
The squirrels suddenly erupted into frantic chattering, circling Fin in little hops before scampering back into the brush. Fin stood, brushing off his knees with a smug grin. "Good news. The local nut economy's stable."
Karlach slapped his back, laughing so hard she nearly dropped her axe. Astarion muttered, "I want a refund on this adventure."
Later, they came across a patch of slick earth where a stream had flooded the trail. Karlach leapt it with ease, landing solidly on the far side. Shadowheart picked her steps with measured care, crossing without so much as a splatter. Wyll trudged through like a soldier, boots squelching but steady.
Fin tried to dart across with Flash-step. He slipped.
The next second, he was flat on his back, mud coating his haori, hair plastered to his face.
Karlach and Shadowheart bent double, laughing, wheezing,
"Oh gods—your face!" Karlach laughed.
Astarion daintily hopped past the mess without a single stain and gave Fin a long, pitying look. "Grace incarnate."
Near a shallow pond, dozens of fat frogs croaked in messy unison. Fin crouched by the water's edge, clapping along like he was conducting a choir.
"Do you have to encourage them?" Shadowheart groaned as the croaking grew deafening.
Fin smirked. "Every symphony needs a conductor."
When one frog hopped onto his knee and let out a drawn-out, squeaky croak right in his face, Karlach nearly toppled over from laughing.
Meanwhile, Wyll walked straight into a dangling branch, the leaves smacking him across the face.
He froze, slowly pushed it aside, and kept walking without comment.
Astarion's grin was immediate. "Elegant as ever, Blade of Frontlines."
Shadowheart whispered, "Branch: one. Wyll: zero."
...
Smoke from the firepit curled lazily into the air, carrying the faint smell of charred rabbit. Lae'zel was the first to look up from the training. Her yellow eyes widened a fraction as she took in the sight before her.
Karlach strode in front, still faintly smouldering, embers trailing off her like she'd walked straight out of a forge. Behind her came Wyll, leaves tangled in his hair, twigs sticking from hi clothes, and fresh welts striping his jaw where wayward branches had lashed him. And bringing up the rear was Fin — his once-proud haori stiff with dried mud, hair crusted into wild tufts that made him look more like a bedraggled scarecrow.
Lae'zel's lips curled back, but no words came. She simply stared, then gave a derisive snort that said everything.
From near the fire, the Dark Urge appeared, crouched low with half a roasted squirrel dangling from their teeth. Grease smeared their chin, eyes bright with unholy amusement. They chewed, swallowed, and gestured at the sorry parade with a clawed hand.
"So," Durge said dryly, "how was your day?"
For a moment, silence. Then Karlach broke into a booming laugh, thumping her new axe against the ground. Wyll muttered something about "damned branches," brushing leaves from his shoulders. Fin only sighed, dragging a muddy hand down his face in utter defeat.
Astarion, strolling in last with his immaculate hair and spotless clothes, smirked wide enough to show fang. "Oh, you know. Productive."
Shadowheart sat down by the fire without ceremony. "At least we're alive."
Lae'zel stared at them all, slowly shook her head, and returned to the training dummy.
...
[End of Chapter]