Tea Time Intrigue

Ethel greeted us before we reached the door, standing on the threshold with beaming smile that stretched a little too wide. "Well, don't you lot look road-worn and hungry! Come now, come now."

Ethel's voice echoed as we stepped into the teahouse. The air was warm and sweet, like coming home after years away. Soft light glowed from paper lanterns overhead, casting everything in amber. Shelves sagged with jars of preserves and dried herbs. The whole place was too cozy—quaint in a way that prickled the edges of your instincts. A pot simmered softly in the background, its rhythm almost hypnotic. My boots creaked on the wood as I stepped inside, a faint hum of anticipation building in my chest.

Shadowheart followed close, squinting warily around the room. Lae'zel moved carefully without touching anything, her hand twitching toward her sword. Karlach trailed last, muttering, "This place is too bloody perfect."

Ethel bustled over to a crooked table, her floral apron swinging as she gestured toward the mismatched chairs. "Sit, sit, my dears! Tea's nearly ready," she chirped, voice sweet but scratchy, her eyes glinting.

Then we noticed her—a pregnant woman, slouched near the hearth, her faded dress pulled taut across her belly. Her face was pale, streaked with tears. She kept her head down, saying nothing.

“Almost time, huh?” I said gently, nodding at her belly.

Ethel's smile twitched, her gaze snapping to me, something sharp behind her eyes. Shadowheart shifted beside me, expression darkening. Lae'zel grunted low in her throat. Karlach took a half-step forward.

"You know her or something?" Karlach asked.

I lifted a hand. "Just seems familiar, that’s all. Probably nothing. She’s in good hands here, right Auntie? Safe as a babe in a cauldro—I mean cradle."

The woman opened her mouth, some protest or plea forming—but Ethel’s brittle laughter sliced through the moment. “Oh, you’re a sly one,” she said. Her eyes didn’t blink. She flicked her wrist. A puff of acrid smoke enveloped the girl, and when it cleared, she was gone.

Shadowheart’s breath caught. Lae’zel shifted, blade half-drawn. Karlach’s jaw clenched.

I leaned against the table, smirking. Ethel’s gaze narrowed at me, stiff with malice.

“What do you know about that girl, lad?” she asked. “Speak, or I’ll pickle your eyes for supper.”

I crossed my arms. "Don't fret, Ethel. I'm not here to ruin your great plan, I think we can come to an understanding. You see, I’m looking for a favor."

Ethel tilted her head, her grin sharpening with amusement. “A favor, is it?” she echoed, eyes narrowing just slightly. Her voice softened into a hum. “Oh, I see it—that worm in your skull. Nasty bugger. I could yank it out, clean as a whistle. Just say the word, petal."

I raised a hand. “Pass. Only the githyanki have the skill to remove these tadpoles. Ain’t that so, Lae'zel?”

Lae'zel straightened, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "Tch. Githyanki prowess surpasses all in purging ghaik taint. This old lady’s tricks are nothing."

[Lae’zel: Approval +2]

Ethel cackled, the sound dry and shrill. "A liar and a flatterer! Stroking your warrior's ego while dodging my offer. If you don't want the worm out, what’s your game, clever boy?"

I kept my tone light, almost teasing. “I doubt you’d want to spill your secrets in front of an audience.”

Ethel clucked her tongue, her gaze flicking from the girls back to me, all sly calculation and barely restrained glee. “Just you and me, petal,” she said, her grin stretching far too wide. “Let’s have a proper talk—out of earshot.”

Ethel gestured with her hand. The hearth’s flames shimmered unnaturally.

The girls didn’t move.

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes, voice low but firm. “What could she possibly need to discuss with you that we can’t hear?”

I didn’t flinch. “That is not a detail I am allowed to share now, you will have to trust me." I gave my best puppy dog eyes.

Shadowheart frowned, gaze dropping for a breath. “I don’t like it...” she muttered. “But I understand. Just be careful.”

[Shadowheart: Approval -3]

I looked to Karlach. Her jaw tightened, but her eyes softened. “Shit… Alright, soldier. Just don’t take too long. I’ve got a bad feeling about her.”

[Karlach Approval -3]

Lae’zel scoffed, but her eyes lingered on me just a heartbeat longer than usual.

[Lae’zel: Approval -3]

Ethel clapped her hands, delighted. “Such concern! So sweet.” She turned to the girls, all smiles again. “Don’t you worry, dears. I’ll have him back to you in one piece.”

She stepped into the hearth. The flames shimmered, parting with an oily ripple.

I looked once more to the girls—Karlach tense, Shadowheart wary, Lae’zel already judging. Then I stepped forward and followed Ethel into the fire. The flames shimmered around me. No heat. No pain—just the feeling of stepping through a veil.

On the other side, the illusion of warmth vanished. In front of me yawned the mouth of a deep, narrow cave, its walls pulsing faintly with sickly green light. Ethel beckoned me forward with a shriveled finger, vanishing into the dark.

And I followed.