Parasites and Pretend-specialists

Lae'zel had been silent since we'd left the tiefling encounter behind, and by "silent" I mean fuming. She walked ahead of us, back rigid, pace unrelenting. Every few steps, she grumbled something in Gith under her breath. I could practically see the steam coming off her. The charm spell had long since faded, and from the way her knuckles whitened on the hilt of her blade, I wasn't going to get a second chance today.

Which brought me to an unfortunate realization: the charm only worked once per day. Maybe a few minutes, if I was lucky. I'd have to be smart about when to use it. Timing would be everything—and there was a long way up to 100 corruption.

Shadowheart, thankfully, was less of a brooding **** of pure aggression. We walked side by side as the forest thickened around us, the morning sun slanting through the trees. I figured a little idle conversation wouldn't hurt.

"So," I said, as casually as possible, "we’ve got a warrior, a cleric, and a guy who shoots powered mind bolts. Classic setup."

She gave me a sidelong glance but didn’t smirk. That was fine—I hadn’t worn her down yet, bu I could start softening the edges.

"You're a cleric, right? What’s your domain?" I asked.

Shadowheart hesitated, her grip tightening just slightly on her basic mace. "I'm... devout," she said carefully. "But I don't claim a public domain. It's complicated."

"You heal, you hit things, and you throw fire. That’s a hell of a combination for someone undefined."

She actually allowed a smile at that. "I make do."

I didn’t press. She didn’t offer. That suited both of us just fine. There was a quiet understanding: I didn’t pry, and in return, she let me keep my own secrets. I could respect that. The fact that I strategically stopped asking questions actually netted me a very small amount of Approval.

[Approval: Shadowheart +1]

Lae’zel, apparently wouldn't let our mutual understood silence linger.

"Idle talk wastes time," she snapped. "If you must speak, speak of something useful."

"Fine," I replied, undeterred. "Tell me what a gith actually is. Pretend I’ve never heard of your glorious empire."

She took the bait. Head held high, voice full of pride, she launched into a crash course on githyanki history. Enslaved by mind flayers for generations. Broke free under the warrior Gith. Now ruled by Vlaakith, immortal queen and devourer of traitors. Githyanki lived to purge the multiverse of the mind flayer taint, traveling the astral plane aboard their great red dragons. I listened without interrupting, nodding once or twice, letting her pace and posture do the work of persuasion. For someone who hated talking, she was awfully good at lecturing.

"Impressive," I said softly when she finished. "You clawed your way out of chains and built a warrior people. Sounds like survival forged into strength."

She glanced at me, surprised by the compliment—and though she didn’t smile, something in her stance relaxed ever so slightly.

[Approval: Lae’zel +1]

"Anyway," I went on, "we should talk about the tadpoles."

That caught both of their attention.

"I know what they are. I mean—really know," I said, slowing my pace a bit. "The process is called ceremorphosis. The parasite eats your brain, hollowing it out, replacing it with itself. You don’t die. You become something else. A mind flayer."

Shadowheart frowned. Lae’zel narrowed her eyes, "That is not news," Lae’zel said flatly. "It is known."

I hesitated for only a second—just long enough to make it look like I was deciding whether to trust them. Then I nodded solemnly. "Because I’m not just guessing," I said. "I’ve studied them. Mind flayer larvae, ceremorphosis, infection thresholds. I know how this works. I’ve got a method—something to keep the parasites dormant, to slow the change. Possibly stop it."

They stared.

"How do you know any of that?" Shadowheart asked, skeptical.

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice as if revealing some forbidden truth. "I learned everything under a master— Volo, a true specialist in removing Brain eating tadpoles, his methods rather crass, but my work I assure you is much less painful. You might’ve heard of him. Bit dramatic, but brilliant when it comes to rare creatures"

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes, still clearly unconvinced, but now... curious. That was enough. I knew how the parasite progressed. It wouldn’t trigger any events for the first few days, and hopefully I would be able to wing it when the plot inevitably would thicken. That gave me just enough of a window to find a way to lure them into my grasp as long as they would believe that I was keeping the larvae calm.