Into the Chasm

The Matriarch’s legs tapped along the scorched stone, pausing, clicking, circling. Her many eyes flicked from Karlach to Shadowheart to Lae’zel, tasting their exhaustion, their wounds, their doom. She didn’t lunge. She didn’t rush. She enjoyed it—this moment where she towered over them, power radiating in every subtle twitch. And in her focus, she made a mistake.

One step. Just one. She skittered along the platform’s edge, shifting to circle around Karlach’s glowing chest—and in doing so, she stepped into the perfect position between me and the chasm.

I had another chance.

Both hands surged with eldritch energy. I focused everything—rage, fear, calculation—and fired compelling blasts in unison. The air cracked as twin bolts of pink energy shot across the gap. Both hit. The second landed dead center in her abdomen—a critical strike. The impact yanked her forward, momentum tearing her off balance. She didn’t fall straight down. No—she flailed.

Her legs spread, claws reaching for anything—web, stone, empty egg sacs. She grasped at air, at hope. Nothing held.

Her blue-black body spiraled once, then vanished forever into the abyss below, her shriek echoing into the Underdark until even that was devoured by the depth.

I didn’t breathe. I didn’t move. None of us did. I didn’t know what had made it work. Maybe it was the curse working with her bloodlust. Maybe the pleasure disoriented her. Maybe the gods had stepped in. I didn’t care. She was gone. The Matriarch was defeated. And somehow, we were still alive.

The silence after was louder than the battle. I lowered my arms slowly, still shaking. Karlach leaned against a pillar, axe hanging from her hand. Her chest glowed softly in the dark, but the fire in her muscles was spent. Shadowheart slumped to one knee, her hands trembling with residual heat, lips silently forming the last of her prayers. Lae’zel stood perfectly still, sword held high, eyes locked on where the spider had fallen.

Then she spoke. Her voice was low, but firm. “You led us into the maw of ****,” she said. “And brought us out again.” She turned to me, and in that harsh, clipped Gith tone, added, “Vlaakith would call that worthy.”

Praise—from her.

[Lae'zel: Approval +5]

Karlach let out a long exhale, then a sharp, painful laugh. “Fuck, that was close.” She looked at me and grinned, already regaining energy. “I thought we were gonna be spider food. You got some weird luck, you know that?”

Shadowheart didn’t say anything. She pushed herself up, her shoulders hunched. Her face was pale, her makeup streaked with sweat. She stepped toward each of us, one by one, laying a hand on bruises, burns and bite marks. Her healing spells were soft glows now—muted, tired. Her power nearly gone.

When she got to me, her touch lingered slightly longer.

I looked at her. “You alright?”

She gave a tired nod. “I’m out of everything. Firebolts and an old mace. That’s all that’s left.”

“Well, it was enough,” I said gently. Her mouth twitched. She didn’t smile, not quite. But her eyes softened.

[Shadowheart: Approval +1]

The tension in the group eased like a collective breath we’d all been holding. Karlach nudged Lae’zel with her elbow. “You see that thing take his shield? Like, rude.”

“It took your shield?” Shadowheart blinked.

“Straight off my arm,” I muttered. “Yanked it down with web. Then died with it. That thing owes me loot.”

Lae’zel snorted. “Fitting. Your prize was victory. Its prize was your equipment.”

Karlach leaned back on a nearby rock. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time before I fight something that big again. I’m claiming boss kill.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. “You never even touched it. I’m the one who lit the hatchlings up.”

“Hey, hey,” I said, raising both hands. “We all almost died. Let’s just call it even.” They laughed. Even Lae’zel, if only a small huff through her nose.

Then I felt it. A pulse. Not physical—but something inside. A shift. I pulled open my UI.

There it was.

[Level Up]