Chapter Text
The red hatch hissed open, snapping him from the stupor of the pod with a spray of steam. Sweat beaded down his face and neck, and the rush of hot air from the outside jarred his senses. His vision was blurred, and his entire body ached.
He sat up from the pod and jumped to his feet, trying to steady himself before he took in the surrounding area. Ugh…
The blood in his head thrummed and pounded - obscuring what was - who he was. An overwhelming loss of memory… The heat from the surrounding area bore down on him as he tried to get himself together, but there was nothing in his skull but a name and a headache. It pulsed against the sides of his head, twitching and flitting back and forth like some sort of beast.
His name. Name? What was it? After whatever ordeal had left him reeling in this hellish place, nothing much was coming to mind.
Come on. Something, anything?
Hound.
That must be it.
He blinked away the throbbing, rushing pain of the headache and focused on his surroundings. Where am I? Fire and embers swept across his vision, plastering the inside of whatever place he was in with a fine coating of ash. The walls here were a strange, purple-grey material that reminded him more of chitin than anything else. Wait, are we moving?
Creatures shrieked outside the hull of this odd ship, and the floor under him shuddered with every step.
A nautiloid. Was that what they were called?
Shit. That was something he could recall. How he’d gotten onboard, he had no idea. But one thing was clear - he had to get out. Being in a place like this only meant one thing, that they’d taken him. To where, he had no clue.
His vision darted around the room, looking for an escape. Through one of the gaping holes in the side of the ship, swarms of small, impish creatures flitted. But between the swarms, a path that led right through the damaged hull. He didn’t really register the absurdity of this whole ordeal - that was for later. Maybe this thing has some kind of escape pods. It was far fetched - sure, but it was better than being a sitting duck in the pods. The hull shook with a blow from the opposite side, causing him to stumble. The nautiloid was under attack by something. Chances were, it wouldn’t differentiate between prisoners and passengers.
The material of the ship burned and splintered, scattering the sulphuric scent of ash and blood as he weaved through the flames, out onto a deck-like path that jutted past the side of the ship.
A roar echoed through the air from a source unseen, and dark, molten mountains swept under them. Dread pooled in his stomach. This wasn’t the Sword Coast anymore.
Wind whipped by him as a red dragon swooped alongside the path, weaving between pure beams of energy from the front of the ship. As another dragon swooped by, something else went over his head.
With the grace of the very dragons that soared by, a fighter in silver armor landed in front of him, brandishing a blade. She pointed it towards him, features curled into a snarl. He had no time to react.
“Abomination, this is your end.”
Before he could speak, something took over. The throbbing in his head resumed as ripples of tingling energy crept down his back. Visions of moments rushed past: A silver sword, a dragon’s wing - and a flash of his face seen through the strange woman’s eyes.
“My head. What is this - ngh.” She twitched as the connection between them held for a mere moment, but Hound blinked it away.
“Tsk’va, you are no thrall - Vlaakith blesses me this day! Together we might survive.” Her greenish features curved into a smile as she put the blade away.
Hound’s eyes widened. The woman in front of him was likely a Gith, not very common anywhere except the astral planes. At least, that was his guess. Her skin was a pale green-yellow, dotted with war paint and frog-like spots around her eyes and cheekbones. Her ears were long and pointed, and her nose was slightly upturned. She truly was an alien sight.
“Who are you?” He asked.
The woman tilted her head.
“Who am I? Your only chance of survival.”
He took his hand off the blade on his back. Frankly, Hound hadn’t even noticed he’d been touching it.
His vision darted around. “We need to find out where we are.”
“We can do nothing until we escape - that must be our priority.”
Her gaze trailed further down the fleshy path, to a pile of odd, red creatures feeding on something. Likely a body - someone else the mind flayers had nabbed.
“First, we exterminate the imps. Then we find the helm and take control of the ship.”
“No escape pods?”
“Mind flayers do not have such things,” She strode towards the creatures, eyes glistening with determination. “H’taka!”
The horned creatures lifted their heads from the corpse. Their red, beady eyes flickered with malice, and their lips peeled back to reveal monkey-like fangs. The Gith woman drew her sword.
Something in Hound’s mind shifted.
The blood rushed to the sides of his vision, tinting his view with an almost red glaze. The pounding headache that he had blinked away came back. It was harsh, it was… heavy. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
His hands tightened around his sword. Time to die. The two struck forward.
The three imps feasting on the human corpse took off, and flapped around the two of them like vultures circling prey.
The woman’s back thumped against his as they braced for an attack.
Gah - don’t touch me!
He struck out as the claws of an imp narrowly missed him, and sliced across the torso of an imp.
The large blade of his ally cleaved through the wings of one of the small creatures to his right, putting it out of its misery before Hound could get to it. I had wanted the first blood!
The distraction enabled the fangs of an imp to sink into his shoulder armor.
He yelped and swung the blade again, knocking it to the ground with a splatter of gore. His ally took care of the other. And just like that, it was over.
“You are surprisingly adequate in combat. Let us move.”
Hound panted as the blood dripped from his blade. There had to have been more imps. The red haze lifted from his vision as he looked for more, but there were none around. … That can’t be normal…
The Gith had already started walking. Not bothering to wipe the silver blade, he put it to his back and followed after her.
“What made you think I was a thrall?”
“We carry mind flayer parasites. Unless we escape - unless we are cleansed.” She added a hiss to her already scratchy voice, turning towards him. “Our bodies and minds will be tainted and twisted. Within days we will be ghaik. Mind flayers.”
I suppose that explains the headaches and telepathy.
“Is there anything we can do?”
They raced across the purple-grey room, avoiding scatterings of flame across the floor and holes that fell into the environment below. Half of the hull caved open, exposing the pair to the rush of heat outside.
“We have to find the helm first.”
She led him alongside the edge to a wall of dripping sinew that fell down from above like netting. It had likely broken due to heat.
The woman already started climbing.
The ship creaked and groaned as it moved, and there was an echo of something snapping further back.
“The ship won’t be able to take another dragon attack. We need to get out before it’s too late,” Hound stated, looking out at the hellscape.
She didn’t respond, and only jumped past him and began to climb up the sinewy ropes. Well… if she thinks it’s safe.
Hound tested it before putting his full weight on it, giving the membrane a brief tug. It felt… right, in his hands. Whatever that meant. Gods - he didn’t know.
If it holds a warrior in full plate it’s good enough for me.
He braced his foot on the sinewy netting, and started to climb.
The Gith above him clambered into another hall, the netting stretching from the gaping hole in its floor.
“This way,” she grunted when he cleared the ledge.
She strode forwards towards a fleshy, sphincter-like door that seemed to recoil when she got close. What strange architecture.
The odd entrance opened up into a large, circular area.
“Istik - back! Touch nothing without knowing its purpose.”
The central floor was raised above the lower supports of the ship itself, crowned by several alien consoles and a central pillar that pulsed red like his headache. Pods surrounded the sides of it.
“Right. Not planning to.”
Hound’s eyes swept back and forth along the walls, looking for threats, something, anything. A man laid limp in a strange chair, likely dead or brain-dead from what he could tell.
But there was something else. Someone else.
One of the pods was shut, and somebody inside was moving.
“Over there!” Hound gestured to the Gith.
Inside the pod, a woman was banging on the red-tinted glass, eyes flickering with rage. She was a half-elf, or something along those lines, and her long, dark hair was pushed into a braid.
“You! Get me out of this damn thing!”
“We have no time for stragglers,” the Gith stated, gesturing away. He ignored her, moving over to help. His gaze snapped around the pod. No levers, just strange, alien tech.
“Are you satisfied? We need to go.”
“We can’t just leave her here!”
“I saw them fiddling with something when they locked me in!” She shouted, voice muffled behind the glass.
“Where can we find it?”
“I don’t know! Look around! Or something - ” She beat on the glass again.
Hound stepped away from the device.
“Quit wasting time!”
“We need her help, and she looks capable!” He looked around for something to open it, anything. A door led north, and another led to the east, both rather fleshy.
“Where would they keep something like this?” He looked to the Gith for guidance.
“I do not know of such things. Look around if you must, but if you take too long, I will leave you.”
“Noted.” He reached a hand to his belt, but grasped air. Am I used to something… being there? He shook the notion away and walked down the northern hall, looking for anything of use. Like the rest of the ship, the purple hull was organic
Another console sat in front of a pod, but this one seemed different from the other. Another woman laid unconscious inside, still as death. But she was breathing.
He glanced over the alien stand, looking at the bright orbs and flashing, pulsing light that emanated from it.
There was a button - it stood out from the others. Maybe it will free her.
Hound pushed it.
With a hiss of steam and psionic energy, the woman inside began to writhe. She jerked back and forth in the pod, and her eyes snapped open. As her mouth opened into a scream, a crack echoed throughout the chamber, meaty, purple tentacles coming out through her face. She had changed - a mind flayer.
It fell back in the pod, limp.
His eyes widened.
“Shit…”
Hound pulled away from the pod and started looking around for something, anything that might have been able to help the other woman.
A corpse of a human laid on the ground, torn up by what was probably imps that had gotten inside the hull. But in the hands of it - there was an object. A runic piece of metal was lodged in the hands of the corpse, and it matched the shape.
There! Hound snatched it up and ran back to the other room, where the Githyanki woman was still standing idle.
“I found something!”
He skidded to a stop in front of the console and slid it into place.
“What are you waiting for?” She slammed on the glass again. “Push it!”
He took a moment to look over everything again - he didn’t want to make a mistake now. They had already used so much time.
Hound took a deep breath. “Please don’t kill her.”
He pushed the console.
The hatch hissed open, letting out a puff of steam, and the Half-Elf stood up. Too quickly.
She collapsed to the floor, chestplate clanking against the strange material. Her breath hitched, and she pushed herself to her knees.
“At last… I thought I was done for.”
“Are you alright?” He reached out a hand to help her up, but the woman was already on her feet.
“I thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin. Thank you - ”
His mind lurched as the familiar presence of psionic energy connected the pair. Her gratitude was mixed with weariness - because of the Gith standing nearby.
Hound glanced over at the woman, who was still standing with her arms crossed.
“You keep dangerous company.”
“We could use dangerous company right now.”
“Fair point. Looks like there’s plenty of fighting ahead,” She looked over his shoulder and down the hall, eyes distant. Then, her vision focused on Hound again. “Let me come with you. We can get off this ship, and watch each other’s backs along the way.”
“Great. I’m Hound, by the way.”
“Shadowheart. One moment…” She stepped away and reached back into her pod with a quick hop, pocketing something unseen, likely a trinket. Hound didn’t think much of it.
“Enough of this chatter, we need to get to the helm - now,” hissed the other woman, pointing between them.
“She’s right. Lead on.”
And they were off.
The Githyanki woman took the lead - and the others let her. Her footsteps were fast and confident, leading onwards through the strange, shell-like bowels of the ship.
They rounded a corner, and she skidded to a halt in front of one of the sphincter-like doors.
“We are nearing the helm. Once inside, do as I say.”
“Who put you in charge? I’ll trust my own judgement,” hissed Shadowheart.
“Kainyank.”
Hound only stayed silent, falling to the back as the two approached the strange door.
They pushed through.
The room in front of them opened up to a bulbous, dome-shaped structure made of the same materials as the rest of the ship, but littered with flame.
Figures danced across the control deck, locked in combat.
A red, winged cambion swung forward with a blade the side of Hound, narrowly missing a hovering mindflayer. A second mind flayer farther back turned and locked its tentacles around another cambion, sending its beak into the skull and dropping it dead. The mind flayers were tall, gangly purple creatures with rubbery skin and organic clothing. Octopus-like tentacles hung from their faces.
It tossed the corpse to the ground, rumbling. But it wasn’t out of the fight. A pair of imps descended upon it.
Another one, much closer, turned its head towards Hound.
“Thrall. Connect the nerves to the transponder. We must escape. Now.”
The voice of the octopus-headed creature rang clear as crystal in his mind as it pointed to a brain-like, tentacled structure up near the front of the ship - likely the helm. Me? Hound looked towards his two companions.
“Do it. We will deal with the ghaik after we escape,” snarled the Githyanki woman, eyes narrowing.
And they jumped into the fray.
Hound started to run, and the red pulsing of his vision began to throb. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The imps around him were clearer, and he easily imagined where he’d stick his blade.
Focus! Get to the transponder!
As the chitin raced by under him, an imp to his right shrieked, swooping at him with blood-sticky claws. He ducked to the side, and with a shout from behind, the creature evaporated into golden light.
It was only meters away now.
Another imp darted into his path. This one had to be dealt with.
In a swift motion, he drew the blade from his back, arced it, and slammed it down into the creature, cleaving it in two.
A roar shook the helm, and a red dragon swooped past the windows.
The Gith raced up beside him, blade in her hands.
“Tsk’va! Hurry, before they strike!”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Hound broke into a sprint, headache pounding as he ducked under the claws of another swooping imp.
The strange device was within grasp now.
He skidded to a stop in front of it, willing the pulsing of combat to go away. Focus, focus. The tentacles around the strange thing writhed back and forth, but they were waiting patiently.
Maybe… think of it like a weird horse?
Hound took a deep breath and grabbed two of the tendrils in his hands. They recoiled with his touch, but responded. Hound pressed them together, and looked up.
The dragon’s head was sticking through the window.
He didn’t have time to pull away.
A blast of heat threw him away from the half-activated console, searing his hands and face. The burning prickled up his skin. But he had done it.
The dragon lurched off the hull, and the deck started to tilt.
Hound shouted as gravity tossed him away from the controls. They were moving, but which direction?
It pitched again, sending him back towards the helm. Hound lashed out, digging his burned hands into a crevice on the console. Biting pain streaked through his arms, and he let out a cry. But his grip held.
The final tug was just inches away.
Hound went for it.
His fingers grasped it, and he gripped it tight. One yank was all it took.
Gravity lurched again, sending him flying back as the ship turned over. It ripped him away from the device and sent him tumbling into the window, cracking against the organic supports. Hound hitched a breath as the wind knocked from his lungs. His vision was getting blurry again - the impact was getting to be too much.
The ship lurched downwards one more time, and debris contacted his face.
Hound went unconscious.