Dawn After Debauchery

The first thing that woke me wasn’t sunlight—it was the soft cascade of info messages drifting lazily across my inner vision, one after another like ripples on a quiet pond.

[Corruption +1]

[Corruption +1]

[Corruption +1]

[Corruption +1]

More than usual. The passive corruption was clearly accelerating. My body felt unexpectedly refreshed—lighter overall, as though the excesses of last night had settled into energy rather than fatigue.

Beside me, Kagha slept sprawled across the bedroll, half on top of me and half off the edge. Together we barely fit; she claimed space with **** determination. Her hair spilled like red ink across her shoulders, and her expression—usually so composed—had softened into soft, **** lines. I eased myself out from beneath her and sat up, careful not to jostle her.

As my eyes adjusted, the Grove slowly revealed itself in full, chaotic splendor.

Discarded underwear, torn clothing, empty glasses, overturned jugs—everywhere I looked, the signs of a celebration gone spectacularly out of hand lingered. Decorative banners had been used as blindfolds, or used as make-shift bondage straps, and half‑finished cups of firewine rested abandoned near the cold embers of last night’s fires. The mingled scents of smoke, perfume, sweat, and spiced wine clung heavily to the cool morning air.

Further out, a stark naked Karlach snored gently in a perfect circle of charred earth. Everything within a two‑foot radius had crisped to ash, the ground scorched deep from her infernal heat. It didn’t take much imagination to guess what she’d been doing once everyone else passed out.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Movement flickered at the corner of my eye. Wyll’s tent flap opened, and a silver‑haired tiefling woman—full bodied and mature—backed out while adjusting her green blouse.

“Well, thank you too, dearest,” she purred into the tent.

She turned, caught sight of me, and flashed a bold wink before strutting out of camp.

A moment later, Wyll’s head popped out. His eyes were wide, startled—almost panicked when he saw me.

“I can explain!” he blurted.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I answered immediately.

He froze. “Truly?”

“Yes. In fact I insist that you don’t.”

Relief washed over him like a blessing. “I'm relieved, a gentleman should never kiss and tell.”

“Totally. Didn’t see a thing,” I said.

We exchanged a solemn nod, silently agreeing never to speak of this again. Wyll placed a fist on his chest as though I’d saved his life.

“You’re a good friend,” he muttered. “One day I will repay everything you’ve done.”

I shrugged. “Don’t stress about it.” He seemed deeply reassured by that.

A groan rose from the scorched clearing.

Karlach pushed herself upright, hair wild, her one horn slightly crooked. “Mmm—whuzzat…?”

“Morning,” I said. “Hangover treating you well?”

“Hangover?” She snorted. “I barely got to try any of the firewine! I was busy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So all that horny dancing—?”

“—was all natural, baby.” She gave a proud squeeze of her bare breasts before trotting toward her armor with a carefree laugh.

The sound of a low, luxurious exhale floated from the tents—the kind of sound that signaled someone awakening from a transformative night.

Lae’zel stepped into the sunlight.

She carried herself with confidence, her posture a silent proclamation of victory. Her form had changed dramatically: fuller breasts, delectable thighs, widened hips, lips shaped sultry plush. Her armor now a leather corset, high‑waisted bottoms, thigh‑high boots, and bracers forming a leotard‑like silhouette.

Karlach, still half‑dressed, openly drooled.

Lae’zel’s gaze swept the clearing, lingering on me. Her tongue flicked across her lips with deliberate meaning.

“For the first time,” she said, “I have come to not only tolerate but accept your magic. Behold my enhanced form.”

“Hells yeah, preach sister!” Karlach cheered.

Lae’zel blinked at the word, clearly taken aback, but she allowed it.

Before I could respond, Shadowheart stepped out of her tent.

If Lae’zel was a corrupted warrior queen, Shadowheart had become something far more ethereal and lithe—an elegant shrine priestess wrapped in shadows. Her skin gleamed alabaster pale, her makeup dark and striking, her hair glossy obsidian. Her gown flowed like living darkness; slits rose to her navel, revealing long bare legs, while the neckline plunged deeply enough to leave no ambiguity about what she wore beneath.

She moved with quiet grace as she surveyed the remains of the night. “You really did go all out last night,” she murmured, a faint dark sparkle dancing in her eyes.

Karlach nearly burst. “OH MY GODS—LOOK AT YOU! You’re like a dark wet dream!”

Even Lae’zel tilted her head. “You are… improved.”

Shadowheart smirked. “So are you.” They shared an unexpectedly warm moment of mutual admiration.

A sudden groan behind us drew attention.

Kagha sat up, clutching her temples. “Oh no… everything hurts. And the light is too sharp. Can someone turn it down a little?”

“You mean the sun?” I asked.

“Yes..” she whispered. “Please?”

Laughter rippled gently through the group at what seemingly was Kagha’s first hangover.

Shadowheart stretched, her gown shifting like living smoke. “Well. What do we do now?”

I pondered for a moment. Good question. What do we do know

“Well, we have the tadpole threat under control,” I said, “so no need to make haste for the githyanki Stronghold just yet.”

Lae’zel clicked her tongue but accepted. “So be it.”

“..and Karlach really needs her heart fixed,” I added. “Which means we need Dammon—and a hotter forge.”

[Karlach: Approval +2]

Shadowheart raised a brow. “And as usual, you just know where to find one?”

“Well, the one I'm thinking of should definitely be hot enough,” I said. “It is however located in the Underdark.”

Kagha perked up, eyes bright despite her pounding head. “Really? How exciting!”

Karlach grinned. “If I can be fixed there, then I'm all for it.”

Shadowheart studied me for a moment, then gave a small, approving nod. “Well, I wont complain, darkness suits me afterall.”

“Before we head out, we have some unfinished business. I need to have a word with Ethel, check on the situation with the druids and the tieflings, convince Dammon to travel with us, and start diplomatic relations with Minthara.”

“Busy morning.” Shadowheart nodded.

Karlach pumped a fist. “Then let’s begin!”

Wyll looked on with a face unreadable.

“You know what,” he said after a beat, clearing his throat, “you’d better head out. There’s a lot to do around camp, and I’d rather not run into—”

“—more trouble!” I cut in. “Right, Wyll?”

Wyll paused, blinked once, then smiled so warmly it nearly brought a tear to his eye. “Right you are, my friend… right you are.”

The girls all looked with telltale befuddlement, but decided that he probably couldn't talk about it.

With the sun rising over the newly ruined Grove—we stepped together into the day ahead, on our next adventure.