Nyx and Astarion POVs. Starting with Nyx.

For clarity: Shadowfell things are referred to as creatures or Shadows/Sharran creatures. The Abyssal things are monsters or demons. I've highlighted this in the text as well, otherwise stuff gets hella confusing pretty quickly because there is a lot of monstering going on in this chapter.

Terrible wails cut through the air as Nyx stalked her prey. Every beast she slayed returned a portion of her mind and some of her memories. However, her sole focus remained survival.

The grotesque mass of flesh and legs fed on a Shadowfell creature that it had overwhelmed. Its body a nightmarish fusion of several spiders and long undulating tentacles. Chwidencha were once drow, rejected by Lolth and punished for their failure to please her. No trace of the person remains after the transformation, not even a face or head. It had been reduced to an unrecognizable aberration of flesh and legs. Losing any sense of their former humanity.

Nyx was poised on a tree limb and engaged the abomination at range, firing several streaking arrows into its fleshy body. The mass of appendages moved with unnatural fluidity, constantly shifting and twitching while it charged at horrifying speed. It scurried up the tree, however Nyx had already moved to another, keeping a good distance between her and the crazed predator.

Unlike Nyx, the chwidencha had no sense of self preservation and flung itself at her only to be riddled with arrows. Their dance continued until it cornered Nyx against a featureless wall. Like the chwidencha, Nyx's mind was distressed and unstable. Her mental landscapes would change without warning. From behind, it chittered with delight and grated its legs together; ready to pounce.

Nyx crouched and waited for it to strike, unsheathing her knives. Fear and dread had left her several battles ago, now her mind was sharpened by shear will. The will to take back what belonged to her. She took a deep, steady breath, shifting her stance according to the movements of the monster. It lunged at her in a flurry of legs and tentacles. She ran towards it and slid underneath its flailing body, several tentacles latching on her arms and legs, their ridges drawing blood as they dug into her flesh. Her throwing knives cut the monster's limbs away in coordinated circular motions. The mass of legs made a sickening squelching noise to compensate for the lost limbs. She focused her magic on the thicket of arrows in its body. It emitted another terrible wail when one yank on the arrows using her magic tore it into ribbons. The monster's initial momentum threw it clear from her position and she stood to cut the rest of the remaining lashing limbs into shreds until nothing else moved. Its rancid odour caught in her throat; rot and burnt hair.

Nyx took a moment for the surge of adrenaline to clear her body. Her wounds healed and she cast the blood from her arms onto the ground.

Stop shaking. Deep breaths. Focused mind.

Another bloodcurdling cry cut the air close by, and she gathered her resolve for the next target.

--- --- ---

Try as he may, all manner of things interrupted his trancing. Voices. Doors slamming. Scents....

The empty room was filled with her scent. One part of him wanted to reject it, since he'd have to come to terms with what he had done. The other part wanted to hold onto it, since it potentially signified the last remembrance of her.

Clive's snoring.

Gods that's annoying.

He considered sneaking out alone, leaving the backpack behind.

But then again, having something to literally watch my back out there would be useful.

Relinquishing the resemblance of peace, he rose, gathered up a grumbling Clive and saw himself out the bathroom window.

---

"Yer more competent than I thought ye be."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he tutted with a dramatic sway of his body. Clive's remark being the result of him evading several Shadows and Sharran undead while searching for clues to Nyx's whereabouts.

Tracking her blood was pointless, the curse had made any trail disappear along with her. Clive shifted and Astarion felt his strange magic probe the night, in a similar search to his own.

"Feckin' hells, Nyx. Where are ye?", he mused mostly to himself.

Astarion swallowed the knot before asking, "You're still sure she's alive?"

He harrumphed as if that were a preposterous question, "Aye."

"What has you convinced that -", a hair-raising sound cut him off.

Shit.

He had been too distracted and hadn't noticed the wind turning.

Hounds bayed, announcing their hunt to the moonbroch above.

Judging by the individual howls, there must be at least two handfuls of them!

"A death pack? What the feck are they doin- aaaggh!", Clive's words dragged after Astarion as he sprinted into the night.

--- --- ---

Nyx had killed several invaders at the periphery, picking them off one-by-one. But as she moved closer to the location of the black pit, the Abyssal monsters and Shadowfell creatures began to hunt each other in groups. Nyx had goaded a hoard of Shadowfell creatures into fighting a handful of Abyssal monsters. From the safety of a nearby tree, she watched emotionlessly as they tore into one another. She had a vague recollection of the savagery the denizens of the abyss possessed, most driven by madness alone. The Shadowfell creatures were more numerous, but their attempts to feed on the fear and loss of the Abyssal monsters proved futile.

The battle was brutal and chaotic, the crazed monsters were unpredictable and lashing out at any-and-all opponents at once. Whereas, the Sharran creatures attempted to use the shadows to their advantage, stepping to and from the shadow in somewhat coordinated attacks. However, those ensnared by one monster would be swarmed and overpowered by many. Numbers dwindled between the groups, and the demons were taking more casualties as they grew more frenzied the longer the battle continued. Regardless, their attacks were increasingly animalistic, driven by pure mad instinct and they tore through the waves of shadow creatures.

Eventually, the battle waned. Some Shadows attempted to escape, but were snatched up by a last remaining injured Mad Aranea. The mutated spider's deformed legs grabbed onto them. It sunk its serrated overgrown fangs into the Shadows with wild aggression, ripping and tearing at them between squirts and streams of acidic venom. But a bout of uncontrollable spasms overcame the Mad Aranea, its legs twisting at unnatural angles and it cried out in a guttural screech while it flailed on the ground. The shadows shred it to pieces as it fought hissing against its own unseen horrid hallucinations brought on by Lolth's corruption. Another one of Lolth's cruel punishment to drow who didn't pass her tests. The Mad Aranea was killed.

Nyx made sure to clean up the remaining weakened Shadows and reclaimed this portion of her mind. Reinforcing it against reinvasion by using the controlling techniques Keetjah and Sanika had thought her. Similar light memories used to create the seals, she strung them into a web and walled off the invaders. The more portions she secured; the greater her arsenal of memories became.

She surveyed her mental landscape for the next area to take back.

"You need to rest," Nyala's voice jarred her out of her scheming.

Not looking at Nyala, she stated, "We may lose ground."

"You're going to lose more than that if you don't rest."

Nyx sighed and turned to agree with her, but the reply lodged in her throat. Instead, she gaped at her in horror. Nyala had become a drider.

"Don't be afraid. I had to blend in somehow.", Nyala gave a warm reassuring smile.

Nyx huffed exasperated, her hand over her thundering heart, "By the Abyss! A fair warning won't go amiss."

Nyala giggled into her fists, eyes shining with mischief.

Nyx set her mouth in a line, "I don't find it amusing."

Nyala shrugged innocently and shifted her weight, her legs responding in a rolling wave of movement. Nyx would take the scene of fighting monsters over Nyala in drider form any day. Although, her drider body wasn't grotesques or deformed, and reminded Nyx of an innocuous jumping spider - it remained deeply unsettling.

A glimmer out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Nyala noticed it too, her head tilted in that direction listening intently. Her spider abdomen quivered, and she said, "But first, you are needed elsewhere."

The real-world baying of hunting dogs reached her ears.

--- --- ---

They were literally snapping at Astarion's heels. Clive yelling in a bobbing intonation for him to run faster. The putrid smelling mongrels growled and yapped in reply from behind. Their chains jingling, mocking him as he ran.

Astarion snapped over his shoulder, "Perhaps I should lighten the load!"

Clive uttered a string of colourful profanities followed by a seemingly definitive, "For feck sakes!" Clive continued to cuss, then a manic laugh escaped him, and he yelled, "Take that ye feckin'-doggone-ugly-arsehole! Har ar ar haar ar!"

Wait, did he say: 'Fire in the hole'?

Something exploded behind Astarion! He stumbled from the aftershock, losing momentum, but recovered miraculously after barely sidestepping more snapping jaws.

Astarion shouted in exasperation gesturing to his own head while picking up speed again, "Are you fucking insane! Watch where you're throwing that stuff!"

More manic laughter answered followed by another explosion and the smell of burning rotten flesh. Fortunately, Astarion felt Clive lift from his shoulders to hurl the object and used the subsequent aftershock to his advantage instead.

This must be the utmost ridiculous situation I've ever had the misfortune of taking part in.

Another explosion drove him forward. Not only did the baying become less, but it started to lag. Astarion shot a cautionary glance over his shoulder. The death pack had taken casualties, some of its members even on fire. Unexpectedly, a misty shrouded figure intercepted the death pack from the dark forest. Growls and barks turned to panicked yelps and shrieking whines as whatever shadow tore into them mercilessly.

Clive was it cheering on, enjoying this shit-show far too much. Astarion couldn't help but feel it was at his expense as well.

"Yeah! Feck 'em up! Show 'em whose boss!"

Astarion kept running, nonetheless.

Let the shadows deal with them.

--- --- ---

Nyx stood over the mangled canine corpses. Pain seeped from her as the power of the Shadowfell drained into the ground. She snarled at the bodies with contempt, wrinkling her nose at their disgusting undead odour. Taking personal offense at them hunting in her territory, threatening her... her... she can't remember. She shook her head, but the memories wouldn't surface. Her glare followed their trail instead.

They do not belong here, and their master needs to be dealt with. This transgression cannot go unanswered.

As a matter of principal. It had to be done, and she would see to it.

--- --- ---

He came to a jogging halt. Exhausted, he removed Clive and plopped him onto nearby not-too-foul-looking rock. Astarion wanted to sit, but his senses were too alert and his body restless. Clive was sniggering, his giddiness hadn't worn off yet. Astarion scowled at him. Before Astarion could give him a piece of his mind, the wind changed, and he caught a whiff of her scent.

Jumping around to pinpoint the direction. But it was gone. He shared a wide-eyed look with Clive and they both called out her name.

He sighed dramatically after they called her name a few more times to no avail.

Clive swore again then chippered, "There now, ye see? What did I tell ye."

Astarion straightened and the soothing warmth returned to his chest, "I, I'm grateful that she is alive, but why hasn't she returned?"

Clive grumbled incoherently and Astarion felt his magic probe the surroundings again. The backpack mulled, "Me thinks she's confused. I can feel her nowhere and everywhere at the same time. She doesn't feel... herself. She is either not allowing me to reach her, or something is preventing me from doing so."

Astarion didn't want to linger on the implications of that statement. He spat agitated, "Damn it all to the hells!"

"Aye."

The silence stretched.

"Well," Clive said and yawned, "There is no point in looking fer her when she doesn't want to be found."

Astarion scowled at him again, "Meaning what!?", his agitation getting the better of him.

"Keep yer bloomers on. I'll think of someway to reach her, but me thinks it's more likely she'll come round on her own terms. Once she has dealt with whatever is holding her back, regardless of what we do. Our interference may well be more problematic for her than not, which is why she's keeping her distance. She doesn't do things without good reason."

Astarion didn't want to hear that, but the backpack's argument was sound. Nyx was both admirably and annoyingly rational.

Clive added, "She will come round. This isn't the first time she's had to fight on her own. She's tougher than most."

He lulled, "I know," and surveyed their surroundings, "It doesn't make it easier."

"Aye, best we can do now is carry on as usual and keep an eye out for when she does need our help. She'll let us know."

"Fine," he sighed, gathered up Clive and headed back to the Inn.

He glanced up at the moonbroch and left a parting message to the night, Come back soon. I miss you.

---

"Thank Tymora!", Tav exhaled a long breath, doubling over to hold her stomach as Clive broke the news about sensing Nyx during the night. He had insisted on telling the others come morning, which Astarion appreciated even though he won't admit it to the backpack.

The others made sounds and comments to the same effect, followed by a barrage of questions for Clive. He answered them in the same sentiment as the night before; deflating many of the hopeful faces and newfound enthusiasm. However, a calm settled between them, and they agreed to keep vigilant for any signs of Nyx reaching out.

Tav set her jaw in determination. Turning to matters regarding Ketheric Thorm and the curse.

--- --- ---

Nyx took reprieve at her sanctuary. A rest that came-and-went too quickly. She scanned her mental landscapes and concluded that the monsters and creatures were doing her work for her. All she had to do was bide her time, swiftly move in to take out stragglers from the battle and wall of those sections. Forcing them together even more. Given, these portions were smaller than the ones she helped along, but for now she could focus on other things.

Her eyes fluttered open to the lightening gloom of the Shadowlands and she set out after her quarry. Following the trail and fading scent of the death pack.

Her head tilted, her connection to the curse picking up on distant war drums rather than her own ears.

Hmm, fitting.

She studied the gnarly, gaping fanged mouth of the cave. Her hands twitched and she probed the darkness within using her whiskers. She could feel the magic at work, the gentle vibrations of its power bristling against her whiskers.

Good. I found you.

Nyx proceeded into the tunnel littered with carrion and bones.

The décor could use some work, she mused in passing another ritualistic arrangement of bones belonging to animals and people alike, Perhaps these are like the vivid colours on poisonous insects - a warning of sorts?

Acrid fumes cautioned her to halt at a cloud of green mist. She blinked at it and stepped around it through the shadows. Pain surging briefly upon calling the Shadow-weave. The pain and her slowing heartbeat reminded her that she was indeed still alive at least.

Voices flited from up from the room ahead and she paused to listen.

Victims, she surmised, pity and disgust touched her chest, but she willed those emotions away. A careful, silent glance gave her an indication of how many she would potentially face.

Watching them revealed that their minds were broken, similar to Lolth's victims. They were beyond saving. Wailing and fighting imaginary foes; crying and begging their beaters.

Graces bring them peace.

A shadow-step brought her behind the first and her claws slit his throat effortlessly from ear-to-ear. He was dead before he hit the ground. The others followed suit as Nyx assassinated them quietly. She couldn't guarantee it was painless, but the least she could do was make it quick.

Deeper in the lair she found more victims. These were beyond her reach, whether to aid or to kill. They were trapped in the hag's duplicitous and terrible games. One screamed crazed, banging on his confines from the inside of a mirror. Another stood petrified, but fully conscious of his surrounding for who knows how long.

Nyx surveyed them with a snarl, Nothing justifies this.

There was, too, nothing she could do for them. Her hunt led to a living door.

She motioned to touch it, and sensed it magically flinch from her. It implored her to leave, even showing her visions of the hag’s previous victims, including himself. He was brutally disembowelled when the hag caught him stealing from her and cursed him for it. He now guards the same lair he tried to steal from. The hag had extended his sentence after he allowed two paladins and their cleric to enter - only for the hag to slaughter them too.

Nyx considered his plight, but it was of greater importance for her to finish what she came to do. She was committed and he was not going to shake her resolve. Instead, she opened her mind to him, showing him the horrors she had already faced and their fate at her hands.

The hag’s time has come, she projected.

He gaped at first then cowered away from her. It wasn’t her intent to intimidate him so, but she was able to continue onward.

---

How odd.

A cage hung suspended from the ceiling over a dark chasm in the middle of a large room. The cage itself wasn’t unexpected, rather the occupant inside. Nyx moved in for closer inspection.

By the Abyss! Is she pregnant?!

The young woman was sleeping, propped up against the wooden prison bars, her mouth ajar and drooling. There was a glowing pedestal nearby and upon magical inspection indicated it controlled the cage. Nyx spotted a platform below linking the cage to the rest of the room and providing an escape for the would-be mother.

Staring at the glowing pedestal, she chewed the inside of her cheek, sighed and pressed the button. The cage jerked into motion waking the girl inside who announced sleepily, “Auntie Ethel, please I can’t eat another bite.”

Ah, yes that is what the hag called herself.

Nyx strolled to the bottom platform, but the cage did not open. The girl rubbed her eyes and cried out when she saw Nyx. She scurried backwards, pressing herself up against the back of the cage. Nyx blinked when she yelled pointing a finger, “Stay away from me monster!”

Monster?, then she remembered she’d been cursed, Hmm, probably best not to look in the mirror anytime soon.

Nyx gestured with an outstretched hand to the cage and ripped the door off. The girl cringed inside and proceeded to gape at her.

Truly?

Nyx informed her, “You ought to leave.”

“I, I can’t! I have a deal wi-”

Nyx raised her hand, “You leave, or you burn with this place.”

“But you can’t! She needs to bring my husband back!”, she insisted jumping to her feet.

“I’m sorry for your husband, but the hag cannot remain,” Nyx turned to leave.

“I won’t let you!”, the girl stated and before she could take a breath to yell Nyx shadow-stepped right in front of her. The yell turned to a whimper as Nyx stared her down. Nyx leaned in closer and stated evenly, “Go. Now.”

The girl slid onto the floor and clung to the bars, jutting her jaw out.

Nyx rolled her eyes, Suit yourself, and left the cage.

A door unlocked on the opposite side of the room. An old lady cackled mockingly, stepping through, “Come to make your own deal?”

Auntie Ethel appraised Nyx, her hands held together on her apron as though she planned to offer her a tray of cookies. The wrinkly old lady said, “I’m afraid your curse is not mine to lift, but I am not going to turn away those who come to me looking for help. Now tell me, pet. Are you here to remove that wriggler in your head? Or to bargain on your love’s behalf? Perhaps both?”

Nyx gave her a flat look.

Love?

Vague memories of people swirled in her mind; silhouettes and ghosts. Her heart yearned for someplace and people she couldn’t remember. Then it slipped away like the receding tide.

Nyx sobered and the hag prompted, “I would have traded for that lovely skin of yours, but the nasty curse has left such an ugly blemish. What a shame, I would have put it to good use. So, let me offer you this instead.”

Nyx cut her off, “I’m not here to bargain. I am here to remove a threat to my territory.”

Auntie Ethel threw her head back and her cackle echoed through the chamber. She replied wiping the tears from her eyes, “Ah, good one, dearie! I like you! Besides, if you had truly meant me harm, my lovelies would have torn you apart before you ever set foot in here.”

Nyx didn’t reply. The silence stretched and the wrinkles on Auntie Ethel’s face deepened. The hag's magic called to her ‘lovelies’. None replied. Auntie Ethel spat curling her lip and fisted her hands to her sides, “What have you done! How dare you come into my home! Murder my servants!” The hag revealed herself fully, complete with warty green skin and a hunched posture ending in sharp claws.

The girl in the cage begged, “Oh gods! Please, please, please!”

Nyx scoffed mentally, The gods won’t help you now. You had your chance.

Auntie Ethel fumed, her magic raging around her furiously. Yellow eyes flashing with contempt and she bared her equally stained teeth. She threatened Nyx with various gruesome and graphic bodily harm. Then death, and revival - only to do it all over again.

Nyx wasn’t interested in the grandstanding either. Yet, Auntie Ethel proceeded to call her all kinds of names relating to male genitalia, which was... strange. Nyx scrunched her nose then decided it irrelevant and childish.

However, during the ranting, Nyx reached out to her whiskers. Carefully, and delicately, stuck one onto each of Auntie Ethel’s shoes.

All the better to sense you with my dear.

The hag's tantrum continued. Nyx took mental stock of every shadow in the room.

All the better to stalk you with my dear.

The hag called her magic forth proper, and the girl wailed. Nyx mirrored the call to both her own magic and the Shadow-weave. Pain sharpening her focus and instincts while adrenaline surged to her limbs.

All the better to slice you with my dear.

Auntie Ethel's glimmer snapped into place and several hag clones filled the room.

A malicious smile split Nyx's lips, I see you.

---

Multiple rays of sickness streaked toward Nyx, and she side-stepped into shadow. The hags swore collectively, intercepting their own magic lest they hit the girl.

Interesting.

Nyx left the shadow to strike back. She flung a curse-coated throwing knife at each one of the duplicates, dispelling the illusions.

"Ah, that smarts! Some brain in you yet!", Auntie Ethel replied, instantaneously hurling a green vial.

Nyx dodged, but the liquid splattered onto her leg and the slimy ooze burnt away her armour and flesh. The hag cackled. Pain seared, but the Shadow-weave's whip lashed, and her injury faded into the background. Nyx melted into the shadows again.

Auntie Ethel taunted, "Come out, come out wherever you are. Sooner or later the pain will become unbearable."

Nyx scoffed mentally, It doesn't even register on the spectrum of psychic drow torture.

She continued to mock her, "So quiet, so deadly. All my little toys, snuffed out without a whimper. Don’t worry, I’ll make plenty of noise for the both of us."

A cackling incantation followed, and walls came alive! Barbed roots trashed violently at their own shadows. Nyx abandoned their cover to dive out of the way.

"Look at you! Shadow-cursed and brain-poisoned. Not much left to ruin, is there?"

Come now, you have no class. My own mother called me far worse, using honeyed words to spin them as truths.

The hag tried to force Nyx into the grasping vines with a rapid fire of magic rays. Nyx couldn't hide in the shadows proper, but there were plenty of smaller ones for sidestepping, zigzagging and outmanoeuvring. Methodically, Nyx closed the distance between them. Another shadow-step-feigned-attack to Auntie Ethel's back, resulted in the hag swinging her claws in a wide arc at nothing but air. Nyx ducked and danced around the hag. Answering with her own claws, cutting away at the protective talismans dangling from Auntie Ethel's neck. Their beads spilled on the ground, bouncing and rolling into the cracks and holes in the floor. Nyx was gone before the hag could turn to counter.

Another snide remark followed, "Half-breed. Illithid-host. Shadow-touched. You’ve really collected some fine little curses, haven’t you? All that’s left is to add my own!"

The floor moved next, and roots seized Nyx from below. Their thorns drawing blood, almost sucking it out of her. She struggled against them while Auntie Ethel's vile magic touched her mind. Rancid claws tried to pry her open, but both her own magic and the chaos inside struck back. The hag cried out, ripping her magic away before Nyx could erode it further. It sent an undulating shockwave through her lair and the roots released Nyx.

"Foul corruption! It clings to you like rot on a corpse! How much longer before it devours what’s left of you, dearie?"

Nyx held onto her head, struggling for control.

There are too many! I can't fight them all!, Nyx fled before the monsters could overpower her. Auntie Ethel cackled again when Nyx fell over her own feet. The hag's attempts to enter her mind created severe cognitive dissonance between Nyx's outer and inner worlds. She couldn't differentiate between the two and she lashed out like the hag's victims at imaginary foes.

You won't have me! I refuse!

"Oh, precious little pup! Your mind is falling apart, and I'll relish every second of its undoing," the hag stalked toward Nyx. Crooning with depraved delight as Nyx now flailed on the floor. Hapless like a fish out of water, gasping for air.

The hag loomed, a long claw tapping her chin, "What am I going to do with you?"

Something in Nyx's mind whispered, but power flooded her senses drowning it out.

She was cascading.

Graces it hurts!, tears where streaming down Nyx's face, her vision blurring red.

Auntie Ethel tutted, "Not yet, pet. You're not bleeding out on me here. I’ll gut your precious love and sell the scraps while you’re still writhing at my feet."

"Nyx!", the whisper found a voice, one she didn't recognize, "Stop fighting it!"

No, no, I can't. I can't lose control!

The voice was distorted, unnatural, "You won't lose control, let me help!"

Sharp claws dug into Nyx's wrist and hoisted her bodily into the air. Nyx shouted at the voice, "Let me go demon!", kicking at the hag instead.

Auntie Ethel locked Nyx's limbs, "Not quite but close enough," she cackled, "Let's try another peek, hm? Sounds like a quite the party in there and I don't want to miss out on the fun."

Slithering magic seeped into her mind; she wanted to retch. Retch from the pain, the power, the chaos at now having so many things wanting to play with her mind.

I am not a plaything. I will never be a plaything again!

Nyx magically fisted the pain into her hands, forcing it into her mind, using it to regain focus and clarity. She willed more of the Shadow-weaves' pain into her being, using her will to wrap it around her cascading magic. The Shadowfell creatures poured through with it, driving the Abyssal demons back to the black pit and its brimming power. This bought Nyx enough time and mental space to regain control. Yet, her own magic thrashed against the leash, akin to a wild beast.

It was Furious. Violated. Betrayed.

Nyx recited her light incantations, prayers and mantras simultaneously. Another pair of hands wrapped around hers, reeling the beast in. The cold, shrouded entity waited patiently while Nyx shifted her mental landscapes into position. Corralling both shadow and demon alike.

Auntie Ethel's presence stepped onto the battlefield, teacup-and-saucer in hand no less.

"Now!", a dual voice rung across her mind. Her own and that of the shroud.

With blooded hands, Nyx released her magic and the roar of it deafened her mind.

Forgotten Realms Chwidencha

Mad Aranea is my own creature design, however I got some suitably disturbing looking spiders from Pinterest to get your nightmares going. Source: Loïc Muzy, Unknown Artists, Shinaretti

   

Published: 10 Jan 2025