Apologies for the long wait. I was focusing on my Mid Sem tests while also making sure to stockpile some chapters. Fortunately, I've finished all of Act 1 and will continue to publish a new chapter at least one week, maybe more if I'm nice ;D
Anyways, enjoy the chapter!
...
The night had quieted as smoke from the firepit thinned into a pale ribbon, the rabbit bones stripped bare and tossed aside by the fire. The fire crackled and the crickets chirped in the grass, steady as a drumline, while the rest of the camp finally settled in after the chaos of the tollhouse.
Lae'zel sat cross-legged near the flames, blade across her knees, a whetstone against the steel of her blade. Durge crouched opposite her, tearing into the last scraps of squirrel (or rabbit) meat with sharp, wet crunches.
Karlach lounged against a log, greataxe planted upright beside her, runes pulsing a faint green. Wyll sat nearby, back straight but shoulders tight, jaw still aching from his "duel" with the forest branches. Shadowheart leaned against the same log, arms folded, her new shield catching the light in silver glints. Astarion reclined half in shadow, one boot propped on his knee, polishing his dagger with lazy precision.
Fin sat a little apart, haori finally dry but stiff with dirt. Ali hovered at his shoulder, unseen by all but him and Karlach, her light faint against the dark.
Lae'zel broke the quiet first. "Your hunt was… noisy," she said, the whetstone pausing mid-stroke. Her yellow eyes flicked across the soot on Karlach's cheek, the streaks of mud still clinging to Fin, the leaves in Wyll's hair. "A little productive. You returned with new steel and intact bodies" A pause. "With no improvement on our afflictions"
Durge snorted, grease dripping down their chin. "Agreed. It was hilarious. Look at him." They jabbed a clawed finger at Fin, grin widening. "Mud monster. Tell me you didn't fall on purpose."
Fin dragged a hand down his face. "I slipped."
Durge cackled, the sound carrying sharply in the night. "Slipped right into dignity's grave."
Karlach barked a laugh, thumping the haft of her axe against the dirt. "Gods, I'm keeping that one."
Wyll muttered, "Glad to be the punchline parade."
Astarion's smirk glinted. "Oh, darling, you always are."
Lae'zel ignored them, returning to her blade. "Clumsiness matters little. What matters is combat. You proved yourselves capable." Her eyes flicked to Fin. "You especially. Efficient, fast, dangerous. Even if…" she tilted her head, "you do mutter to yourself like a lunatic."
Fin froze. "I—what?"
Durge licked their fingers, nodding cheerfully. "Oh yeah. That's a thing. Always thought you were crazy. Not in a bad way. In a fun way."
Shadowheart's lips curved in a thin, cutting smirk. "Correction. He's not crazy. He has a friend."
Fin groaned. "Gods above, not you too—"
She cut him off, voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, really. All those midnight chats? The blank stares into nothing? Turns out he wasn't unravelling after all. He was just talking to…" She gestured vaguely toward Ali's space. "…this mysterious, invisible companion of his. Comforting, isn't it?"
Astarion clapped slowly, delight etched across his face. "Haunted, mad, or both. It explains so much."
Fin raised both hands. "She's real. She's here. Karlach can see her, for gods' sake—"
Karlach, caught mid-grin, lifted her hands innocently. "Don't look at me. I'm not getting between you and your… spectral girlfriend."
Fin's eye twitched. "She's not—"
Lae'zel's whetstone hissed across steel, punctuating the silence. "Power eclipses madness. If your edge is sharp, I care not if you howl at shadows. One flaw is negligible compared to your skill."
Fin's jaw dropped. "I'm not—"
Durge cut in, grinning widely. "Yeah, mate. Own it. Crazy fits you."
Fin buried his face in his hands. "I'm not crazy."
No one looked convinced.
Ali, of course, floated closer, smile infuriatingly serene. "You're not getting through to them, you know."
Fin muttered back, "You're not helping."
Karlach snorted, embers flickering off her skin. Shadowheart shook her head with mock pity while Wyll sighed, muttering a prayer under his breath, and Astarion's smirk carved deep. The fire popped, spitting sparks into the dark. Fin lowered his hands, face set in a scowl that didn't carry much weight beneath the mud crusted across his jaw.
"I'm not crazy."
Shadowheart tilted her head, voice flat. "Says the man who's been carrying on conversations with thin air for weeks."
"I wasn't—"
Astarion lifted a finger delicately, cutting him off. "You absolutely were. Don't argue. I've been keeping notes. Pages of them."
Fin blinked. "…You've what?"
The vampire leaned back, smirk broadening. "Mental notes, darling. I wouldn't waste good parchment on you."
Karlach slapped her knee, nearly tipping backward. "Oh, gods, this is too good. I thought I was the only one seeing it." She jabbed a thumb toward Ali's flickering projection. "Turns out it's not just voices in your head. It's a whole woman."
"Thank you," Fin said, seizing the chance. "Exactly—"
"Which makes it weirder," Karlach added, grinning wide enough to show fang.
Fin's shoulders slumped.
Durge wiped their greasy hands on the grass. "I say keep it. 'Mad Fin,' has a ring to it. Like a bard song." They pitched their voice high and singsong. "'Mad Fin, the mud-soaked man, who talks to ghosts and fights like sin—'"
"Stop," Fin groaned.
"—'He swings, he slips, he talks to air, but cuts his foes with crazy flair!'" Durge finished with a flourish, spreading their clawed fingers like a minstrel bowing.
Karlach wheezed so hard her new axe nearly toppled.
Wyll pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please don't encourage them."
Lae'zel, unbothered, kept honing her sword. "Combat proves worth. If his madness strengthens his hand, then madness is an advantage."
Fin sat straighter. "Thank—"
"It is still madness," she added, without a flicker of irony.
The firelight caught Astarion's grin as he purred, "At least you'll never be lonely, darling. You've got your… floating sweetheart to whisper sweet nothings with."
Ali, smirking faintly, leaned close to Fin's ear. "Sweetheart. I like that."
Fin clenched his jaw. "Don't. Start."
Shadowheart's lips curved in that knife-edge smirk. "I've seen him blush at empty air, too. So it tracks."
"I—what?!" Fin's ears burned hot.
Karlach roared with laughter. "Gods, he does! Look at him! He's turning red!"
Astarion clasped his hands together, feigning swoon. "Adorable."
Durge started clapping in a slow rhythm. "Mad Fin and his mystery bride! Oooooh."
Fin threw his hands up. "You're all impossible."
Nobody stopped.
Karlach leaned over the fire, grin sharp and feral. "You keep your secrets, soldier. But as far as I'm concerned? You're one of us. Mud, ghosts, voices and all."
Shadowheart added dryly, "Mostly mud."
Wyll sighed again, eyes heavenward. "This company will be the death of me."
Astarion's fangs glinted as he reclined. "Better him first." He gestured lazily at Fin. "The crazy ones never last long."
Fin muttered into his hands, "I hate all of you."
Ali, of course, was smiling too, her voice low and warm in his ear. "No, you don't."
And to his horror, Karlach's eyes flicked toward Ali again. Saw the smile. And laughed even harder.
...
The fire burned lower, logs breaking into glowing red heaps. One by one, the camp began to scatter.
Shadowheart was the first to rise, brushing ash from her hands before slipping toward her tent with her shield slung over her shoulder. "Don't stay up all night talking to phantoms," she muttered, a smirk tugging her lips as she vanished into the dark.
Wyll followed soon after, muttering something about prayers before trudging to his bedroll. He tugged the last twig from his hair as he went, flicking it into the fire with a sigh.
Durge yawned like a cat, sprawling backward before rolling up with a manic little grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," they said brightly, then licked squirrel grease from their fingers and wandered off.
Lae'zel lingered long enough to sheath her sharpened blade. "Sleep strengthens the mind," she said flatly, then rose and stalked toward her tent without so much as a glance back.
Astarion lingered the longest, of course, drawing out every second of his theatrical exit. He stretched, slow and feline, before stepping into the shadows with a final smirk. "Do keep it down, darlings. Some of us require beauty sleep."
That left the fire crackling low, Fin slouched against a log, and Karlach cross-legged across from him. Her greataxe stood in the dirt beside her, runes glowing faintly like a second campfire. Ali hovered behind Fin, but Karlach didn't look at her this time. She looked at him.
For a moment, neither spoke. Just the night, the crickets, and the distant lap of water against the riverbank.
Karlach broke first, grin curling wide. "So, soldier. You and your imaginary girlfriend. Gonna introduce us properly?"
Fin groaned.
"C'mon," Karlach teased, embers sparking faintly across her jawline. "I'm dying to know how long you've been whispering sweet nothings to thin air."
"Funny," Fin muttered. "You're hilarious."
She chuckled, then leaned back on her hands, eyes catching the firelight. "You know, you remind me of me when I first walked into Baldur's Gate. Country girl through and through. Loud, awkward, trying to act like I belonged."
Karlach laughed, tossing her head back. "Swear it on my axe. The first time I saw the city, I thought I'd walked into another world. Lights everywhere, noise so loud you couldn't hear your own thoughts, the smell of spices and sewage fighting for your nose." Her grin softened, nostalgic. "I must've looked like an absolute bumpkin, gawking at every cart and lantern."
Fin smirked faintly, eyes on the fire. "Sounds… nice. I never got the chance to see it. Any of it, really."
Something in his tone caught Karlach's ear. Her smile lingered, but her gaze sharpened. "Never? Not even once?"
Fin shook his head, smirk gone. "No. Always meant to. Just…
He paused a beat, his smirk dropped slightly, "...never made it."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, the fire snapping quietly.
Karlach let out a low whistle, then grinned again, trying to keep the mood light. "Well, guess I'll just have to drag you there myself one day. Once we're not knee-deep in devils and doom."
Fin huffed a laugh. "Deal."
She stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders, then gave him a sidelong glance. "So. How old are you, anyway? You fight like someone twice your years, but you mope like a teenager."
Fin blinked, caught off guard. "…Old enough."
Karlach arched a brow, grin widening. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting." He smirked, trying to play it off, but his thoughts slipped like ice under his ribs. What age do I even tell her? The one I died at? The one since I woke up here? The years I've burned through since?
Karlach leaned forward, elbows on her knees, grin sharp in the firelight. "Old enough, huh? That's the sort of thing people say when they're either hiding crow's feet or they're too young to buy a pint."
Fin tilted his head, a sly edge curling into his smile. "Guess you'll just have to keep guessing then. Adds to my mystery, don't you think?"
Karlach barked a laugh, the sound rolling warm as the fire. "Mystery, huh? That's what you're calling it? I'd say 'shady bastard' fits better."
"Careful," Fin drawled, leaning back against the log, "you sound like you're interested."
Her eyes narrowed, flames flickering brighter around her shoulders. "Don't tempt me, soldier. I might start asking real questions."
He raised a brow. "You could try."
Karlach smirked, tapping a finger against her chin like she was mulling it over. "Fine. Riddle me this: if you're so mysterious, does that mean I'll find grey hairs if I look close enough?"
Fin laughed, low and sharp. "If you're close enough to check, and I don't get 3rd degree burns, I don't think you'll care about the colour of my hair."
She froze for half a beat before laughing loudly and booming, shaking her head. "Hah! Gods, you're dangerous."
"Promise?"
She jabbed a finger at him across the fire, flames sparking off her knuckle. "Keep that up, and I'll test how much heat you can really handle."
Fin's grin returned, widely. Inside, though, the ice still pressed tight in his chest.
But out loud, he leaned forward into the firelight, smirk cutting like a blade. "Guess we'll just have to see who burns out first."
Karlach grinned back, teeth sharp in the glow. "Now that's a wager I like."
...
The morning broke soft and golden, sunlight spilling through the trees as it normally does. Everyone was already awake, doing their usual morning routines. Shadowheart crouched by the firepit, stirring the coals back to life with the tip of her mace, muttering quiet prayers under her breath. Wyll polished his rapier with the care of a priest tending relics. Astarion sat perched on a rock, comb in hand, fussing over his already immaculate hair with visible smugness. Lae'zel trained in silence on her makeshift training dummy.
Fin stretched.
Barefoot in the grass, shirtless, he moved through the routine Helga had drilled into him years ago. Slow bends. Sharp lunges. Controlled breaths. His muscles rolled and tightened with each movement, a body carved more by necessity than vanity. The haori hung over a branch, drying from its bath in the mud yesterday, leaving him bare from the waist up. The faint scars, the tautness of his frame.
Aside from the help his body got from the restoration pod on the Nautiloid, he was still a lot more scrawny than he wanted to be, but his muscle definition as definitely improved. Still, not a lot of actual muscle developed, which was something he wanted to improve.
So far, he'd been relying on his cursed energy to reinforce his body and provide most of the power behind his attacks. But sooner or later, he needs to start relying more and more on his natural strength, especially in later stages of the game.
But most enemies in Act 1 are basically fodder, so he was fine for the time being.
He was considering, as he often did, what to do with the day. Which road to take? Which problem to tackle first? He was halfway through a stretch when a voice cut across camp.
"I'm so glad I found—wait!"
Fin's head snapped up. The voice was familiar, musical even in its panic.
A figure stepped into view, clutching a lute to her chest, curls of dark hair spilling across her horns.
"I'm Alfira — a bard from the grove. I don't mean any harm!"
Fin blinked, lowering from his stretch. Recognition hit at once. "Alfira. Of course, I remember you." His voice softened. "Are you alright?"
That caught her off guard. She froze mid-step, lips parting, her gaze flicking over him — then immediately snapping away as colour climbed her cheeks. "I—yes, I'm fine. More than fine, actually."
Fin arched a brow. "You sure? You look… startled."
Her hands tightened on the lute. "I just—wasn't expecting you to be—uh—" She waved vaguely at him, then blurted, "Shirtless."
Fin smirked faintly. "Occupational hazard." He rolled his shoulders. "So. What brings you here?"
Alfira drew in a breath, steadied herself. "I came because… I've been thinking about what you said. About joining you."
Fin blinked. "You're serious?"
She nodded, voice firmer now. "After what you and your companions did… I felt something I haven't in a long time. Inspired. Brave. I don't want to stay behind anymore, singing about other people's adventures. I want to make my own. I want to fight. To help people. Like you helped us."
Wyll, who'd been within earshot, lowered his rapier with a frown. "Alfira… you'd be safer at the grove. The tieflings still need you there."
Her chin lifted, eyes bright. "I know. But I'm a bard, remember? Music is power. Words are powerful. I can do more than stay behind and play witness. I want to be part of something real. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather share it with than you."
She glanced at Fin as she said it, her blush returning hot under the morning sun.
Fin blinked once, then let a grin spread across his face. "Well… I'd be glad to have you. Gods know we could use someone musically talented. Other than me, of course."
That earned a groan in perfect unison from Wyll, Shadowheart, and Astarion.
Shadowheart muttered without looking up, "Don't encourage him."
Wyll rubbed his temple. "Not this again."
Astarion let out a theatrical sigh. "Please, darling. Spare the poor girl from your… interpretations of music. She deserves better."
Fin spread his hands innocently, grin widening. "You wound me. Truly."
Alfira, caught between nerves and laughter, clutched her lute tighter. "Well… I guess I'll find out soon enough, won't I?"
Fin's grin softened. She hadn't met the rest of the camp yet. "Right," he said, straightening. "Introductions. Probably overdue."
He gestured first toward Karlach, who was still leaning on her axe, embers sparking faintly off her shoulders. "Karlach. Barbarian. Engine-heart. Hotter temper than her steel, but you'll get used to it."
Karlach barked a laugh and thumped her chest with a heavy fist. "Hah! Welcome, Alfira! Any friend of Fin's is a friend of mine. And if you can sing, you're already leagues better company than most of this lot."
Alfira blinked, startled at the warmth, then managed a smile. "That's… kind of you."
"Not kind," Karlach corrected with a grin. "True."
Fin nodded, then pointed toward where Lae'zel was still mid-swing with her blade, movements sharp enough to split air. "That's Lae'zel. She's… ah… a morning person."
Lae'zel paused just long enough to glance over her shoulder. Her yellow eyes locked on Alfira. She bared her teeth and hissed, low and animal.
Alfira stiffened, eyes widening. "…Right."
Fin cleared his throat quickly. "Takes a while to warm up to new people."
Karlach chuckled under her breath. "Or never."
Alfira swallowed, shifting her grip on the lute.
Finally, Fin's gaze slid to the edge of camp. Durge sat crouched near the firepit, knuckles bloody from gods-knew-what, eyes too bright, too sharp. For a heartbeat, Fin hesitated. He remembered. What happened to her. What Durge could do if left unchecked.
Alfira's eyes followed his, curious. "And… that's?"
"Durge," Fin said carefully. "We...actually don't know much about her"
Durge's head tilted slowly, smile too wide, too thin. Their gaze fixed on Alfira, unblinking. For an instant, Fin swore he saw blood swim in their eyes.
Alfira, oblivious, stepped forward with a tentative smile, hand lifting in greeting. "It's nice to meet you—"
Durge rose fluidly to their feet, raising a clawed hand as if to take hers.
Fin moved without thinking, stepping between them with a sharp clap of his hands. "And that's enough introductions for one morning."
Durge blinked, head cocking, hand hovering awkwardly in the air.
Alfira faltered, confusion flickering across her face. "Oh—um—"
Fin forced a grin, sliding his arm subtly to guide Alfira back a step. "Durge's not much for touching. Trust me. Best to admire from a distance."
Durge's smile never faded. If anything, it deepened, too sharp at the edges, before they lowered their hand with unsettling slowness and sat back down.
Alfira glanced between them, uneasy. "…Right."
Fin let out a quiet breath, tension bleeding from his shoulders. He didn't miss the way Durge's eyes lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, glinting like a blade in the firelight.
Karlach, sensing the shift, clapped Alfira on the back with a cheer that nearly knocked her over. "Don't worry about it, girl. You stick with me, you'll be fine."
Alfira smiled weakly, still rattled, but nodded.
Fin forced his grin wider. "See? Perfectly safe."
Inside, he wasn't sure if he believed it.
...
The road wound beneath the trees as Karlach, leading with her axe balanced across her shoulders, Shadowheart walking beside her, Wyll steady in the rear, Alfira clutching her lute with nervous determination. Fin strode just behind Karlach. He didn't say it outright, but he was steering them. Every step angled them closer toward the goblin camp.
By midday, the trees thinned, the air thickened, and the ruins of a blighted village broke the horizon. Crumbling walls leaned against one another like drunks, the roofs sagging under years of rot.
Fin held up a hand, halting the group. "Alright. Let's try something before we go knocking on doors."
Karlach cocked her head. "What, a plan?"
"Better. Magic." Fin smirked, then closed his eyes. He pictured the weave, the threads, the way he'd seen it used back at the grove and when he was younger.
For those who don't know, when you enter Blighted Village in Act One, you are confronted by some goblins who will attempt to attack the player depending on your actions swiftly. However, if you pick to be a drow OR disguise yourself as a drow, they will assume you are related to their drow leader, Mithara and will let you and your companions pass with little to no problem.
A spell of disguise. Simple enough — in theory. He stretched a hand across his face, muttering syllables Ali whispered in his ear. His form rippled. Shifted. Hair darkened, skin turned grey, his frame shrinking into that of a female drow—
"Hello, my goblins" He started...
—then immediately snapped back, leaving him half-bent and looking like he'd just sneezed on his own soul.
"Drow enough for you?" he rasped.
Karlach doubled over laughing, embers sparking off her shoulders. "Gods, you looked like a drunk elf in a wig!"
Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose. "Pathetic."
Wyll groaned, hand dragging down his face. "Subtlety is wasted on this group."
Before Fin could retort, a guttural shout cracked across the ruins. Goblins. Arrows whistled down from the rooftops.
Fin sighed. "Fine. Plan B."
He blurred upward, Flash-Step carrying him to the roofs in a heartbeat. A goblin barely had time to screech before Fin's boot slammed into its chest, sending it pinwheeling into the street below. Karlach was waiting, axe swinging in a brutal arc that cut the creature clean in two. Another goblin toppled, Fin driving a knee into its face before booting it over the edge. Karlach whooped and cleaved it mid-fall.
Below, Alfira darted past Wyll, eyes wide but burning bright. She had no blade, no staff — so she kicked. Her boot slammed into a goblin's shin with surprising force, dropping it to its knees. She followed up with a wild shove of her lute, cracking the edge against its skull.
"By the gods!" Wyll exclaimed. "She's—"
"Effective!" Karlach bellowed, grinning as Alfira kicked another goblin square in the chest, sending it sprawling.
The fight wrapped quickly. Goblins broken, blood spattered across stone, the village fell quiet again but for the pant of breath and Karlach's booming laugh. "That was beautiful! Fin, you kick 'em down, I chop 'em up, she punts 'em into the dirt—gods, I could get used to this."
Fin smirked, brushing dirt from his haori. "Told you. Plan B works."
Later, deeper in the village, they circled a half-buried chest. A set of crude wires glinted in the sun, a faint shimmer of enchantment clinging to the lock.
Shadowheart crouched low, tools in hand. "Trapped. Give me a moment."
Karlach leaned in close, squinting. "Looks nasty. What happens if you get it wrong?"
Shadowheart's knuckles tightened. "Step back."
Fin crouched down on her other side, gaining an inquisitive expression. "Think you can manage it?"
"Yes," Shadowheart snapped, not glancing up. "If you two stop breathing down my neck."
Karlach chuckled, not moving an inch. "I like front-row seats."
The cleric shot her a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Then I suggest you pray."
Fin added, ignoring the death stare. "Don't worry. If you blow up, I'll tell everyone you died a hero."
Shadowheart's only answer was a low growl through her teeth as she tightened her grip on the lockpick.
Sweat prickled her brow as she leaned closer, whispering, "Almost… almost—"
Karlach's grin widened. "Don't slip now."
Fin leaned in from the other side, smirk tugging at his mouth. "One wrong twitch and we all go up. No pressure."
The pick wobbled dangerously. Shadowheart froze, teeth bared. "If either of you says one more word—"
A faint click snapped through the air. The wires slackened, the shimmer of enchantment fizzled and died. The chest creaked open harmlessly.
Shadowheart exhaled hard, head dropping forward. "There. Done."
Karlach clapped her shoulder with enough force to topple her nearly. "Knew you had it in you!"
Shadowheart shot her a death glare. "You nearly ruined it."
Fin peered into the chest with a smirk. "Worth it. Totally worth it."
Inside gleamed a scatter of trinkets. A few coins, a ring faintly pulsing with enchantment, and a dusty dagger whose edge still looked wicked sharp. Karlach grabbed the coins without hesitation, tossing them into Fin's pouch. Shadowheart claimed the ring with quiet satisfaction. Wyll eyed the dagger but let it be, muttering something about "dishonourable tools."
Alfira, who'd been standing back the whole time, finally stepped forward, clutching her lute tight. Her eyes were wide, a mix of awe and disbelief.
"You… you people are insane."
Karlach barked a laugh. "Welcome to the club! Crazy gets results"
Fin shrugged, agreeing with the statement, scooping up the last of the coins.
Shadowheart muttered, "Until it gets us killed."
Wyll sighed, "Indeed..."
A faint smile tugged at Alfira's lips. "Maybe. But… I think I picked the right people."
She glanced at Fin as she said it, cheeks colouring faintly again.
Karlach caught the look, smirked widely, and elbowed Fin in the ribs hard enough to make him stumble.
"Shut up," he muttered under his breath, straightening his haori.
...
A battered windmill groaned in the distance, its sails turning at a decent pace. Tied to one of them, spinning helplessly through the air with every creak, was a deep gnome. Each turn lifted him screaming into the sky before dropping him upside down toward the ground. A pack of goblins jeered and howled beneath, worgs prowling at their sides, snapping teeth at the gnome as he swung low.
The party ducked behind a collapsed wall.
Karlach's hands tightened around her axe, eyes blazing. "Gods damn it, they're torturing him."
Wyll's jaw flexed. "We can't leave him."
Shadowheart scowled, voice low. "It isn't our concern. Risking all of us for one stranger is reckless."
Karlach whipped her head around, eyes narrowing. "So what, we let him spin till his head pops off?"
Shadowheart's lip curled. "Better his head than ours."
Fin crouched low, eyes fixed on the windmill, the goblins, the worgs. He weighed it — his hand flexed against his knee.
Then, right beside him, Alfira sneezed.
It wasn't loud. Just quick and sharp. But the ruins carried the sound.
Every goblin head snapped toward their hiding place. Worgs growled low, ears pricking.
The group turned to stare at Alfira.
She froze, wide-eyed, lute clutched to her chest. "…Sorry?"
Fin exhaled slowly. He rubbed his face with both hands, muttering. "Fine, Plan B."
Karlach's grin went feral. "That's my favourite plan."
The goblins roared and surged forward. The worgs snarled, claws tearing into the dirt.
And once again, chaos erupted.
...
[End of Chapter]
As you can probably tell, I'm sorta increasing the pace of events. I hope you don't mind me moving things along!