Walk out of the temple

The amulet’s glow dims as you emerge from the crypt, the midday sun glaring harshly over the war-torn landscape. Withers lingers in the shadows behind you, his presence unsettling but silent. Ahead, the ruins of the temple give way to a rocky ravine, where the distant clash of steel and shouts echo through the air.

“More fighting,” Lae’zel growls, her hand tightening on her sword. “Let us avoid it. We have no time for distractions.”

But Shadowheart frowns, her gaze sharp. “Wait—those aren’t intellect devourers. Those are voices. Survivors, maybe.”

Before you can decide, a roar splits the air—not of pain, but of defiance. A voice booms, rough and vibrant: “Come on, then! I’ll take all of you!”

You exchange glances and sprint toward the sound. Rounding a jagged outcrop, you spot her: a towering tiefling woman with crimson skin, her horns curling like flames. She’s surrounded by a squad of cultists, their black-and-gold robes marking them as followers of the Absolute.

Karlach swings a massive greataxe, its blade wreathed in embers. The weapon cleaves through a cultist’s shield, sending splinters flying. “That all you got?!” she taunts, her laughter wild and infectious.

But even her strength is flagging. A cultist lands a glancing blow on her shoulder, and she staggers, her axe dipping.

“Now that’s someone I want on our side,” you mutter, drawing your weapon.

Lae’zel snorts. “She is reckless. But… formidable.”

You charge into the fray. Shadowheart’s magic illuminates the battlefield as Lae’zel cuts through cultists with lethal precision. Karlach glances at you, her golden eyes blazing. “About time someone showed up! Let’s make this quick—I’ve got plans tonight!”

Together, you dismantle the cultists. Karlach’s axe leaves trails of fire in its wake, and her laughter rings out with each strike. When the last cultist falls, she plants her axe in the ground, breathing heavily but grinning.

“Thanks for the assist,” she says, wiping ash from her brow. “Name’s Karlach. And you lot look like you’ve seen the wrong end of a mind flayer ship too.”

Shadowheart eyes her warily. “You’re infected.”

Karlach taps her temple, her smile fading. “Yep. Little wriggler in my skull, same as you. Been trying to track down a healer, but all I’ve found are Absolute fanatics and idiots with swords.”

You cross your arms, sizing her up. “We’re looking for a cure. Strength in numbers. You in?”

She hesitates, then barks a laugh. “Why not? Better than dying alone. But fair warning—I’m not great at following orders.”

Lae’zel steps forward, her tone icy. “You will follow orders if you wish to survive.”

Karlach leans on her axe, unimpressed. “Oh, you’re fun. Let’s get one thing straight: I fight my way, or I don’t fight at all. Got it?”

You step between them, suppressing a grin. “We’ll work it out. Welcome to the team, Karlach.”

“Cheers, soldier,” she says, slapping your shoulder with a **** that nearly knocks you over. “Now, where to next? More cultists to smash? Temples to loot?”

Shadowheart nods toward the horizon. “There’s a settlement nearby. Rumor says a healer lives there—someone who knows about mind flayer parasites.”

Karlach’s grin returns. “Perfect. Let’s go kick some Absolute arse along the way.”

As the group moves out, Karlach falls into step beside you, her energy infectious. “So, you the leader of this ragtag bunch? Bet you’ve got stories.”

You smirk. “Depends. You got any good ones?”

“Oh, loads. Did I ever tell you about the time I fought a dragon with my bare hands? Well, almost…”

Lae’zel groans. “Do not encourage her.”

Karlach winks. “Don’t worry, greenie. I’ll make a firebrand out of you yet.”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes, but even she hides a smile. With Karlach’s laughter echoing through the ruins, the road ahead feels a little less hopeless.

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