Nyx and Astarion PoV

LINK: The Steeps, Lower City, Interactive Map, World Anvil.

The restlessness of the Elfsong’s ghost had seized Tav while the common room’s hearth burned hotter than ever before. Nevertheless, the horrible chill clung to Tav like a lingering ache. She shuffled through the records recovered from the cloister. Simply touching them made her skin crawl, but the information held within was too valuable, regardless of how little she wanted to do with it. Penned in the late Viconia’s hand; they detailed extensive surveillance of nearly all important political players of Baldur’s Gate, including the rise of the Absolutist cult and the ‘upstart Gortash’.

Tav sighed, sitting back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. Her attention landed on Mohan’s parcel, unopened due to her frantic list of things to do the past few days - an endless circling of the drain. She slumped at the thought of Shadowheart’s parents.

It wasn’t supposed to be that way. Where did I go wrong?

Her tired mind refused to answer, and a creak of the floorboards revealed Shadowheart walking into the room as though summoned.

Tav leaned onto the table and rested her head on her fist. “Join me. There is no such thing as sleep. Especially, for the wicked.”

Shadowheart tilted her head. “Shar is wicked. Viconia is wicked. You are not.”

Taken aback by the curt remark, Tav cleared her throat and shifted the reports around on the table. “Um. Thanks...”

I’m supposed to be the one reassuring you.

Tav asked, “Tea?”

“I think so, yes. And after, I’d like to visit... a place.” Shadowheart paused and Tav heard what was left unsaid.

“Want some company?”

“I... I would.”

---

A quaint, simple statue, barely higher than a gravestone, shone in the moonlight. Tav gathered her coat around her, but the chill came from within, not without.

Shadowheart held out her hand. “Here.”

Tav eyed her and took it. Shadowheart’s cool magic coursed through Tav, making her shudder, but when it receded, so did the chill. “Oh! Tymora, bless you.”

A small laugh replied and she said, “A trick I learned from wielding Lathander’s mace.”

“Good trick, teach me.”

“I’d be happy to.”

The night yawned and Tav snuggled into her plush collar. She reached out to Selune’s statue, wiping away dirt and cobwebs from its face. It was a pretty statue - a woman dressed in scale armour and flowing silks, reaching upwards for a circle of moons depicting its phases.

Shadowheart mused, “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while. Perhaps people lost faith. Or... forgot about it.” The wind picked up and the boughs of the trees swayed softly overhead. “I wanted to come here. To see if I felt anything that I hadn’t done before. Now that I know what I know. Now that I know who I am.”

Tav never thought she’d be asking Shadowheart this, but, “And do you, feel something?”

“Lonely...”, she blurted and gave an incredulous laugh. “Too much freedom. No rules. No guidance.” She plucked a leaf that had settled on the statue’s head.

“Give it a chance? You’re not obliged to come here and embrace Selune.”

“True. There’s a reason why so many are eager to bow. I had my family, for too short a moment. Now they’re gone. By my hand.”

Tav shook her head vehemently. “You did as they asked. And in so doing, you freed them, and yourself.”

Shadowheart choked, and spat at the statue, gesturing to it accusingly, “But why does freedom have to feel like I’ve lost everything? Perhaps I could have saved them, or perhaps Shar would have helped me forget them instead. I’ve neither.” The confession drew a sob from her and she buried her head in her palms.

Tav wrapped an arm around her and gave her a light squeeze. “It’ll take time, but you’ll build a new life for yourself. One where you get to decide what it will be.”

Shadowheart sobbed for a few more shaking breaths and recovered, leaning briefly into Tav’s hug and pulled away.

Tav asked, “Speaking of which, Shadowheart or Jenevelle?”

There was no hesitation from her now. “Shadowheart. She’s as much a part of who I am as Jenevelle. I can’t just forget her - that’s not what I do anymore.” She gazed at the statue. “Besides, Shadowheart still suits me - even better than before, perhaps. You can’t cast a shadow without some light.”

Tav shared a small smile with her friend, and they left warmer than they had arrived.

---

Tav’s hands shook while clutching the letter, only stopping once she signed it. It was addressed to her parents. Tav sat with the sealed letter for a moment. She should have penned it much earlier. Her name now on the outside, in her own handwriting, which was harder to look at than she expected. Then she whistled for Scratch. He was birdwatching with Bean by the largest window of the common room and promptly trotted over, tongue lolling while looking up at her expectantly.

After indulging in pets, Tav said, “I would like you to get this to the courier stall.”

He turned to be strapped in, hanging his head with diminished enthusiasm.

Tav fastened the satchel to his back, deposited the letter and its postal fee, then laughed. “Don’t worry you won’t miss on the outing with Bean and Halsin to the woods. They’ll wait.”

His ears perked and he gave a happy bark, scurrying to the door. Tav let him out and he tore off for the stairs. Tav grinned after, asking Tymora to help deliver the missive safely to the little fishing village along the Sword Coast.

The bears and dogs of the group were getting cabin fever, and Tav suggested to Halsin take them on an outing for the day. She had to reiterate several times that the rest of them would be fine with the Counting House job later. Needless to say, Bean and Scratch were bursting with excitement. Tara had no such restrictions, coming and going as she pleased.

We ought to come up with a similar arrangement for the other two.

It was a tricky thing: Scratch would be allowed through the city gates between the Lower and Outer city, but not unaccompanied. Whereas Bean would be seized, and that was certainly not an option. Smuggling the two in and out as ravens or dogs required someone to be with them either way, whether to manage the polymorphing or the escort.

Perhaps, Jov won’t mind caring for them during the day at Garynmor stables?

Tav’s musing was interrupted by the arrival of her companions, and she fell into step with the established morning routine. Once fed and geared up; Halsin, Bean and Scratch flew the coop, so to speak, while the rest headed out by foot.

--- --- ---

Astarion filled his lungs; the air smelling sweet and green. He always liked this part of the Gate more than any other. Not only was the scent of fish less pungent, but the neighbourhoods were more pleasant too. Sunlight beamed through wider streets; their larger buildings gleamed with fresh paint and new tiles. As the areas drew closer to the Upper City; the more city-like it became.

A rare spot of green unfurled itself to their group’s right.

The Steeps’ most prominent feature: Greyharbour Collegium. The campus gardens jutted out into the sea; figures streamed between the various lecture halls and the Harbourlight Archives. Astarion had visited the library often, but strictly not for hunting. Its tomes seeing him through troubled and even darker times. It never asked for anything in return, nothing that Astarion wasn't willing to give. He glanced at Nyx, it was safe. A soft fuzziness settled in his chest; a folly nostalgia for a place that had been a stable and comforting environment to flee to, even if it was but for a few hours.

His companions were admiring the scenery as well, and Nyx’s intent focus on the library reminded him of something. “My sweet, you do remember our arrangement?”

She gave him an arched eyebrow, and he glanced at the Archives. Without looking, she smirked. “A book about inflicting grievous bodily harm? How could I forget.” Her expression became serious. “You’re still interested?”

“But of course. You should know that I’ll take any advantage I can possibly get.”

Nyx inclined her head and gazed at the library. “I’ve a list too.”

Before his interest could take the shape of another question, the hairs on his arms stood upright. Static coursed through the air and power surged from the Collegium as its magic activated. A shield rose from the boundary, engulfing the entire grounds. Shouts of alarm came from both people within and outside when the earth shook beneath everyone’s feet.

Astarion’s hand flew to his left eye, sharp pain piercing into his skull while the tadpole squirmed at the psionic activation. A weight settled on his head, and he stumbled forward. A familiar voice spoke to him, and gentle hands wrapped around his arm, holding him upright. The throbbing in his eye spread to his mind. Everything was trembling. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think as the Elderbrain boomed, "Taken! Corrupted. GONE."

His hands reached for the ones wrapped around his arm, and he clung to the scent of rain and smoke. The soft intonation of Nyx’s voice guided him through it. Psionic energy surged, choking a strangled noise from him. He gasped when it lifted as though it was never there and the quake subsided.

“Gods“, he spat, straightening. Gripping Nyx’s hand he turned his gaze to her and sneered, “I hate when it does that. I hate it.” He sobered at the strain around her eyes and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Took me by surprise too, more than it should have.”

He patted her hand and she squeezed his arm.

The rest of their companions recovered with similar remarks of displeasure. With the campus barrier coming down, they collectively took a moment. A handful of strangers on the streets wrestled to their feet as well.

Astarion wondered where the Chosen were hiding the brain. We’ll see to you soon enough.

Warmth from the sun brightened his mood, and he properly offered his arm to Nyx, flashing her a lopsided smile. She gladly laced her arm, and leaned in for his stolen kiss before they followed the others.

---

Astarion usually avoided the Campus Tavern like the plague. A slew of bad experiences; many of which he’d rather not revisit. Situated a block away from the Collegium meant that its main clientele consistent of students. Fortunately, their group had arrived mid-morning, and only the most un-studious of the rabble occupied a handful of booths. By lunch and after classes; the place was swarming with rowdy youths, who had yet to learn anything about social etiquette or proper debauchery.

Tav led them through the first floor, Karlach looking longingly after the beer taps, nearly hitting her head against the large model ship suspended from the rafters. It was the size of a table, well-maintained and gleaming with brass adornments. Karlach’s near-collision had activated the minor ward of the model; one to keep it safe from boarding by drunkards and general tampering. The same was true for the rest of the décor, which included maps, compasses, schematics, and astrolabes. An homage to the courses taught at the collage and none of any real value.

Baldur’s Gate coat of arms was a prominent and repeating illustration, especially on the second floor. Its dusty blue and red colours were borrowed for the curtains, pillows, and seating. Most of the private and study booths were empty, except for one occupied by the most unlikely of students, regarding at her own map with bemusement. Jaheira’s scowl morphed into a smirk as their group piled into the elongated booth.

Tav asked, “No Aedric or Mohan?”

Jaheira waved a dismissive hand and said, “‘Duties.’” She slid her map to the middle of the table and pointed to a spot near the harbour. “Mohan has confirmed the chatter surrounding a shipment due for the Counting House, but we’ve no idea of what it could be.” Her furrowed brows were mirrored by the rest.

Tav pursed her lips, leaning toward the map. “You’ve managed to arrange the appointment at the expected time?”

She nodded and looked them over. “Only one knot in the root, though. I can only have five escorts.”

Grumbles rose around him, and Astarion crossed his arms, waiting for Tav to make the obvious choice for the job.

Without even looking up, let alone looking at him, Tav made her selection. “Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale - you’re with me and Jaheira.”

What!

Before Astarion could protest at being left out of a job that obviously wouldn’t do without his expertise, Jaheira shifted in her seat. “Good. There is something for the rest of you too.”, retrieving a bundle of papers.

He was pouting over his crossed arms by the time Jaheira finished explaining what amounted to a clean-up job at the Harbourlight Archives, and scoffed when the payment was placed on the table. Jaheira gave him a wink, which made him bristle until she pointed to the pouch and said, “That's half from your benefactors. The rest is paid by the library, as well as a bonus.”

They waited for her to continue, expectantly. Karlach bounded on her toes and caved-in first, asking what the bonus was.

“Access to the restricted areas of the library.”

That made realms of a difference, not that Karlach appreciated the implication. His mind was spinning with the opportunities, not to mention additional resources... something to help open the other tantalising books he had amassed. Astarion was neither interested in being possessed by the one, nor cursed by the other.

Yes. Yes, it’ll do.

Jaheira’s expression turned sour, and she drummed her fingers on the table. “This business at the Counting House has me more concerned than usual.”

Tav chuckled. “We’re expecting a lure and trap.”

She nodded. “There’s something else, it’s a bit too obvious and I don’t like it. Also Aedric informed me of greater troubling news: the number of missing people continue to rise in our city and its no longer common folk. One or two of my Harpers have not reported in and Aedric is noticing missing Fists, all of whom have gone unreported.”

Tav’s expression has gone grave, too. “You’re expecting the Bhaalists?”

“If it weren’t bad enough, Aedric thinks the Black Hand has infiltrated the Fists. ‘Black Fists’ as the whispers go from Mohan’s side. Then there is the Szarrs.” She gave Astarion a pointed look, and he stiffened, but met her stern gaze and held it. Deflection didn't arrive, something else took its place.

With all eyes on him, he drew himself up. “Don’t look at me. I’ve had no contact with them.”

“I’m inclined to believe you. The Harper’s were suspicious of Cazador’s affiliation before you confirmed it.” She addressed Tav, “I’ve been keeping an eye on them as we agreed, and it seems they are getting ready for something - what I do not yet know, but it has spurred them to take more people too, under the guise of the Bhaalist abductions.”

Tav chewed her lip. “Please don’t risk the Harpers unnecessarily, but anymore information would be of immeasurable value.” She shared a determined look with Astarion. “We’re planning on a visit soon, might as well be during this event of theirs.”

“Good. Leave it with me.” Jaheira met each of their eyes in turn. “The Harpers haven’t paid down our debt to you yet, and you’ve become very adept at cutting out the various sickness that had been festering in the city. We’ll do whatever we can to support you in that.” Jaheira tapped the table and said, “Now, enough talk. I’m thirsty.”

A round of drinks was in order, and to Astarion’s utmost surprise, there was wine. He got the distinct suspicion that Jaheira may have had a hand in that, seeing as she led the clinking of glasses with wine of her own. Their party departed from the tavern just as the afternoon rush arrived. They split into groups and set off in different directions after wishing the other group good luck.

--- --- ---

Nyx’s boots struck an echoing rhythm on the polished tiles of Harbourlight Archive’s entry hall, and Wyll took point, announcing them at reception with Jaheira’s letter in hand. They were ushered past the main entrance to a side door, up a flight of spiraling stairs and into a spacious office. Nyx followed Astarion’s example and settled into a plush chair, while Wyll and Lae’zel opted to remain standing. A door behind the desk creaked open and the librarian stepped into the room. “Oh!”, the elderly man exclaimed, rushing over to the desk to set his tea down. Wyll strode forward and offered his hand, which was so vigorously shaken by the librarian that Wyll’s teeth were likely rattling. The elderly man hooted, “Yes, yes! They said you’d come! Oh, my boy, we are in quite the predicament. Quite the predicament, I tell you!”

Wyll replied, “Then tell us of your woes, so we may put them to rest.”, and Astarion scoffed next to Nyx.

The librarian looked ready to burst; he threw his long, wispy beard over his shoulder like a scarf and rummaged through the desk drawers, producing a crystal ball. “It is better I show you.”

Interest piqued, Nyx and Astarion gathered around the desk with Wyll and Lae’zel. They peered at the images swirling in the ball. The librarian nearly jumped out of his skin when a gremlin stuck its toothy face into view. As though it knew; the gremlin gave a gnarly giggly and disappeared, allowing the background to come into focus.

It was the library proper, shelves lined with books from the floor to the ceiling, which could not be seen, and little figures darted between.

Astarion groaned, his mouth pulling into a deep frown, “Ugh, a gremlin infestation.”

The librarian nodded sagely and combed his fingers through his thinning beard. “An unfortunate affair. One of our students was much too eager with a spell book. You know spells aren’t allowed in the library. Summoned a tiny portal... but that was all it took. And these awful little critters have had run of the place ever since. We must be rid of them before anything happens to the books.” His eyes grew wide as though only realizing now, “Oh, think of the books!”

Wyll gripped the man’s shoulder and said, “Keep heart, we’ll see to the pests and restore the library to its peaceful state.” Lae’zel drew her great sword in a show of commitment, and the librarian shook Wyll’s hand again sputtering various versions of his thanks, and the library’s thanks, and the staff, and the students... and the books (don’t forget the books).

They were led from the office to the library via a smaller door, which they slipped through quickly and the door locked behind them. Nyx took a deep breath; the scent of leather, ink, parchment, and, wood filling her senses. Light streamed in from multi-story arched windows, warming the pale white maple interior to cream, interspersed with the occasional brown streak of grained elm. Similar to the Campus Tavern, huge ship models hung suspended from the ceiling; sails also in the colours of Baldur’s Gate crest. Metal accents glistened from display cases of various sizes. Nestled between the bookshelves, instruments of navigation took center stage. Lae’zel drifted to a display case containing half a steel square, hollowed out to make room for rotating spheres in the middle and a ticking clock inside. The plaque read ‘Triple axis tourbillon. Used for precise time keeping’. No doubt made by the gnomes from the Hall of Wonders. Astarion and Wyll were browsing the shelves while Nyx admired the interlocking discs of an astronomical clock. She never had the time to explore the library in full and this section was entirely new to her. Movement caught her eye.

A jackal-faced, rat-sized goblinoid stood on scrawny hind legs atop one of the display cases. Nyx motioned for her knives and the gremlin yapped in a high pitch, pointing its tiny dagger, then turned around to lift its loincloth and wiggle its furry behind at her.

Nyx clicked her tongue. The gall.

Before she could plant a throwing knife in its exposed buttocks, it lurched off the case and scurried away between the shelves.

Fast little bugger.

There was a creaking noise above her head, and she looked up to find her reflection gaping back at her in the astronomical clock’s discs. She heaved and threw her magic against it, trying not to break it and compensating for its weight at the same time. Her three companions rushed to help her maneuver the instrument to the ground.

“Abyss take you.” She glared at the sets of beady eyes peppered between the books above. More yaps rose, and they stuck out their tongues. Nyx gathered her bow. The yaps turned to shrieks when Nyx and Astarion’s arrows found their mark and several disappeared into puffs of glittering smoke.

Lae’zel rested her great sword over one shoulder and regarded the astronomical clock on the floor. “I take we should limit the damage to the archives.”

Nyx’s eyebrows bobbed at Lae’zel’s consideration, and Wyll nodded while scanning the bookshelves. “Yes, the last thing we’d want is to burn down the knowledge of generations.”

Astarion quipped dryly, “Or fit the bill for replacing it.”

Lae’zel gave a curt nod, and they stalked down the platform, weapons in hand.

Nyx had lost count of how many of the gremlins she had banished. She had five of them cornered in a book nook; they scattered between the books, the table, chair, and other climbing the shelves. Her knives picked them off one-by-one in quick succession, and she returned to the reading hall of this library section. Empty tables stretched between her and her companions, each hunting another pack of tiny menaces. The sounds of yaps, impacts and puffs echoed through the space.

A drawn out ‘ahoo!’ blared from the ceiling and Nyx gasped at the gremlins jostling each other along the railings of a massive model ship.

How did they get there?

Her arrows flew, banishing those in sight. She aimed at another when a whirr sped past her ear instead. She clapped her hand over her cheek where it stung and her hand pulled away sporting a thin line of blood. The cut on her cheek burned, and she snapped her shield into place when another whirr headed her way. An armed, winged gremlin crashed into her shield and dropped to the floor flailing, where she stomped it to smoke. Above the chaos had escalated.

The twang of reverberating metal made Nyx grimace as the model’s chords snapped one after another. Fortunately, it was warded; however, she wasn’t convinced it’ll be enough for the hard landing. The model hung precariously from its last two chords, and she wrapped her legs in magic, sprinting for a better position to intervene. Wyll had the same idea; unfurled a scroll in hand, and read the incantation for feather fall. The gremlins cheered at the last snap, and those onboard squealed in delight when the model fell. But after a few feet, Nyx caught it with her magic, and it bobbed in the air as though it were at sea. Wyll’s spell enveloped it next, and Nyx sighed in relief at the lightened load. Astarion and Lae’zel dealt with the swarm of gremlins that dove from the decks while Nyx lowered the model and Wyll grabbed ahold of a chord to guide it into a spot between the tables and the shelves.

Once the gremlins were banished and the model was in one piece on the ground, Nyx remarked, “We are getting nowhere fast.” After a quick scan for more gremlins; she admired the fine craftsmanship of the ship. It was a scale replica; each piece meticulously and painstakingly placed.

Lae’zel grunted in agreement. “This is an inefficient means of dealing with the creatures.”

Astarion surveyed the hall. “Perhaps dealing with the aforementioned portal?”

Wyll’s brows furrowed and he tapped his chin. “That might work. Banish the portal, and everything it let through goes with it.”

With a new plan in mind, they set off to find the portal.

As with any dungeon, Nyx kept her left hand to the wall at all times - a thorough grid search method, and the others followed suit.

Stepping into the new section, Wyll asked, “Where are we now?”

Nyx consulted the brochure she found abandoned on one of the tables. “General magic.”

“Just the place we want-“, Astarion’s reply was swallowed by a fluttering drone.

A writhing mass of winged gremlins where heading their way and they re-oriented for battle. Strategically placed smokepowder arrows and Eldrich blasts plugged giant holes in the cloud, sending up plumes of smoke. Nyx snapped her shield into place as the mass of tiny armed bodies descended upon their group.

Wyll yelled, “Cover me!”, as he upturned his bag and ransacked through the spilled contents.

The rest of them retreated to his position, crouching next to him. Nyx extended her shield to protect them all. Unable to maintain control of its shape, it became a swirling patchwork of magic.  Astarion and Lae’zel picked off gremlins that made it through the gaps.

Wyll unrolled a scroll in frantic haste and shouted the spell in a strained pitch, “DETONO!”. At the last syllable, a tiny winged menace clipped him across the face, and the thunderwave wobbled through the space, banishing the entire cloud of gremlins on its thunderous curved route. Then it doubled back to hit the bookcase above them. Spell books came raining down; several bounced off Nyx’s shield, causing some of their spells to activate and a cascade of rippling magic filled the room. Nyx’s stomach churned when an activated book fell onto her and the magic seeped over her skin.

Oh, no!

Her shield sizzled out, the world upturned and her body went tumbling through the air. Something seized her, like she was being stretched out by the spine while simultaneously being squashed at her arms and legs. Her involuntary curse came out as a series of squeaks. Finally, she plopped onto the floor and an enormous book fell over her, followed by the loud thumping of more until the world went dark.

---

Nyx lay on the floor, not wanting to move, listening instead. Only the sound of her breathing replied, as well as the dull throb of bruises. She cranked open an eye to find cursive writing staring back at her, as large as her face.

Blinking the world back into focus, her body slid into place beneath her. Giant pages crinkled beneath her feet as she crawled toward the spot of light between what looked to be more huge books. A gasp tore from her throat upon emerging. The library had grown!

Its books, shelves, tables and chairs towered over her, stretching upwards and outwards, forcing her to turn around to take it all in. “What happened?”

A muffled groan came from a pile of books next to her, red horns poking through. “Wyll, are you alright?”

The mound of books stirred, and a creature grew from within. Nyx gasped, taking a step back as the silhouette rose before her until - a ruddy goat? - stood before her. It shook its head, making its floppy ears smack against its head, and a book fell from its back.

Wyll’s voice eminated from the goat, “I feel strange. Does anyone have a healing potion on hand?” He lifted his front leg and stared at it for a long time.

Nyx tried to be as gentle as she could be, “You’re a goat.”

His head snapped to hers, and hourglass eyes regarded her. “And you’re... I don’t know what you are.”

Nyx’s eyes went wide, and she looked herself over. “Argh! I’m covered in fur! I have a tail!” Her head spun after going in circles while taking in her tail.

Astarion’s laugh bubbled up from another mound of books. “Oh, how precious! You got hit by a stray polymorph spell? This I have to see.” A white goose appeared from under the books with red eyes and two elongated tomia at the sides of its beak.

Wyll and Nyx burst out laughing. The laughter continued to the extent where Wyll’s turned into bleats and Nyx was squirming between the pages of a book.

Nyx recovered somewhat and snickered, “Oh, you silly goose! You got caught in it too!”

A high-pitched gasp came from Astarion while taking in his wings, and Wyll croaked between bleats, “Goosetarion!”

“Stop that! It’s not funny.” He stuck his beak in the air. “At least I’m not a goat or a weasel!”

“What?” Nyx shot up and slid between the books, looking for one with a metal plaque. Beady eyes greeted her in the shiny gold reflection. She popped back up and said, “I’m a ferret. The weasel’s cuter cousin.”

“Pfft.” Astarion shook his head. He scanned the upended bookshelves and the sea of books around them. “We’re in quite the predicament ourselves.”

Lae’zel grumbled from somewhere, “We need to reverse it as soon as possible.” And a green monitor lizard sailed out from the overturned books.

Astarion sighed. “I never thought I’d say this, but: I wish Gale were here.”

“Well,” Wyll said, digging at the books with his hooves. “There’s no way to get to my pack.”

Nyx’s body folded in half to check her pack, nothing except for grey fur. “Clive’s buried too.” Even if she were able to find him, she doubted she’ll have the strength to pull him out or get to anything inside.

Astarion and Lae’zel hissed in concession.

A pungent whiff pulled Nyx’s focus to her nose, scrunching it after another sniff of sweat, blood, and musk. “Yuck.”

Lae’zel turned her head and flicked her tongue in the same direction. “If we can track the creatures, perhaps we can track the portal?”

“And what would you like to do with it once you find it?” Astarion preened his ruffled feathers.

Nyx tried to purse her lips, setting her whiskers forward instead. “Wait!” She remembered grabbing it up during the commotion, and dove into the tunnels between books. “Ah, ha!”, she emerged triumphant and said around a mouthful of paper, “I believe this is one of yours”, showing it to Wyll.

“A dispel scroll!” His blunt teeth spreading into a goat grin. “We’re going to get out of this yet.” And he said to Lae’zel, “Lead on.”

---

They scurried along the tops of the bookshelves. Nyx, Wyll and Lae’zel took quickly to their new bodies, traversing their way from the floor to the top of the shelves with ease. After a half-way tumble from the side of a bookshelf, Astarion had found his wings and opted to glide from one shelf to the next, keeping lookout while the others caught up. Between Nyx and Lae’zel, they’ve been steering clear of the gremlins while making progress toward the largest source of gremlin stench.

The trail led them to a new section, and they paused at the arched entryway. Nyx peered around the wooden pillars. At the far end of the section, off to one side, was a glowing portal on the seat of a chair. A gremlin stepped through, having to stoop to do so, and was greeted by its patrolling friends on the table nearby. Animated gesturing ensued. The gremlin joined a waiting pack, and they marched for the entrance. Nyx reported back, and the three of them agreed to wait for the latest recruits to leave.

The sound of snickering yaps passed below. Lae’zel and Nyx slithered their way past the pillars with the portal in their sights, hoping to close the distance and pounce on the portal. Nyx pressed her body against the wall when an “Ahoo!” sounded.

Lae’zel was spotted, and a handful of winged gremlins descended on her position. She gripped the ledge with sharp claws, hissing her challenge with a gaping maw of sharper teeth. Nyx hurried as fast as her little feet could carry her, slinking between the cobwebs and crumpled paper. In her haste, she knocked one of the paper balls to the floor, alerting the gremlins below. Instinctively, she dodged a whir and dove behind a decorative bookend as another ‘tiny’ arrow struck against the wood.

The buggers have bows!

Behind her, Lae’zel was tearing sword-wielding gremlins from the sky with remarkable precision, pinning them down and finishing them off with a decisive bite to the head. Another handful of winged gremlins rounded the section entryway, spotted Lae’zel and proceeded in her direction with an angry buzz and jittering yaps. A white mass dove from above, making them scatter. Astarion hopped onto a nearby platform, turned on his heel and took off again, body slamming into several of the gremlins. The falling menaces were assaulted mid-flight in a brutal display of pecking, honking, and floating feathers.

Arrows stopped chipping away at Nyx’s hiding spot, soon followed by an impact shaking her shelf. She grinned at Wyll in full charge, horns lowered, ramming more gremlins into the bookcase below. Nyx dug her nails into the wood and darted for the portal again. Upon reaching the back of the library section, her body effortlessly bent around the corner without needing to slow down. Three gremlins guarding the portal took positions at her approach. She reached the next corner and flung her body to the shelf diagonally in front of her. Paws barely touching the wood, her body swerved mid-landing, and her hind feet propelled her to the next shelf. Her downward zig-zagging path made it impossible to pin her down with arrows.

Inspired by Lae’zel; Nyx flung herself into the nearest gremlin’s face, her jaw clamping around its throat in a visceral crunch. Bones cracked against her teeth, and her mouth filled with sweat, musk, and blood. She barely sidestepped a downward swooping sword between gagging. Fortunately, her rebound was faster, and she wrapped her body around it, landing another bite. Suppressing another gag, she rounded on the next gremlin and stared down a knocked arrow. Her fur bristled at realizing she couldn’t close the distance in time. A honk saw Astarion crash-land on top of the gremlin, where another bout of pecking, flapping, and honking ensued.

Nyx sucked in as much air as possible into her tiny lungs and bellowed a squeaking, “Scroll!”

In a flash, Wyll was on the table, scroll still clenched between his teeth. He spat it out and promptly jumped from the table to headbutt the next wave of encroaching gremlins scrambling to get onto the table (or out of Lae’zel’s way).

Nyx used her entire body to unfurl the scroll, using her weight to keep it in place. Moving her tiny paws upwards, she read the incantation. Its magic lit up the paper and swirled around her body. The final word ripped from her throat, “Abjoro!”, and the portal snuffed immediately, followed by comical puffs all round as the gremlins were banished back to the Faewild.

Everything settled, and the four of them were laying on the table, coughing at the smoke. Their heaving continued even after the smoke had dissipated.

“By the Abyss, I’m glad that’s over.”

“Hear, hear.”

“Darlings, let’s not do that again.”

“Agreed.”

After recovering, they headed back to the General Magic section to search the books for a spell to be rid of the polymorphing. Nyx sniffed out her initial wake up spot between the books, but she couldn’t locate the scent of her backpack.

Her ears perked and her heart skipped at Clive’s muffled grumble coming from below. “Fer feck sakes! What is going on?”

She replied, “Quite the predicament, hold on.”

“If there are rats in here, ye better know I won’t be chewed on.”

Nyx snickered to herself, of course he doesn’t understand; of all the languages he knew, animal speech wasn’t one of them. The others pitched in, and they painstakingly excavated Clive from the mountain of books.

“I’m here!” A strap reached out and waved about. Nyx hooked it over one of Wyll’s horns and he pulled Clive free with a ‘Gah!’.

Clive flopped out and puffed himself up. “Nyx, this had better be a good story or else-“ His scowl froze at locking eyes with her.

Nyx waved at him, squeaking a ‘Hello’ for good measure.

“Har, har, har, hhhaaarrr!“ His laugher echoed through the library, starting anew every time he set eyes on someone else. “Feck me, I need to hear all of it. If only I could capture this ‘ere picture right now. Har!”

Nyx gave him a flat look, crossed her arms, and waited for him to finish. Beckoning with her paw, she asked, “Are you done? Going to help or not?”

He wiped an imaginary tear with one strap and said, snickering, “Keep yer furry bloomers on... Hmm.“ His face scrunched in concentration, “Here we go.” His flap sprang open, and four scrolls shot into the air.

Four incantations later, and they were back in their own bodies. Nyx swiftly got her revenge by locking Clive into a hug while he sputtered under her thanks. She helped search for the others' three backpacks. While doing so, all four of them chimed in and updated Clive on what happened, laughing at the ridiculous events.

A surprised “Oh!” drew their attention to the elderly librarian as he shuffled his way over. “What a show! What a show!” He was shaking Wyll’s hand again. “I cannot thank you enough for ridding us of the peril.”

Nyx stooped to pick up the books and place them on the table, it didn’t seem right to leave them on the floor.

The librarian hooted and said, “Oh! No need, dearie.” He clapped his hands together three times. “Time to tidy up!” The entire bookcase lit up, and several mage hands appeared, collecting the books and returned them to their rightful places. Leaving the section behind, the librarian ushered them back to his office for tea and cake while sending one of the assistance to gather their passes for the restricted section of the library.

---

Once outside, Nyx squinted at the gloom and stated, “That took a lot longer than I expected.”

Wyll suggested, “Best we head back then.”

Astarion cast his gaze at the Counting House. “Think they’re done?”

“I’d be surprised if they weren’t.”

“Touché.”

And, as these things go, a long drawn out siren cut the air. Every magic light outside the Counting House lit up, and Nyx's ears were ringing at the blaring intrusion. She shared a concerned glance with the others and by the time they reached the streets, every guard in The Steeps was rushing to the Counting House.

Surveying the swarming Fists; there was three ‘shits’ and one ‘tsk’va’ between them, but there was no way to intervene or assist the others without making matters worse. They waited it out instead, hoping to catch wind of what happened from the people on the street.

Enquiries at the Campus Tavern and local shops yielded nothing of use. The Counting House had an ‘emergency’ and was closed to the public until further notice. Even after the noise and bustle settled, there was no news of what had transpired other than gossip and conjecture, ranging from a ‘false alarm’ to an ‘Absolutist attempted break in’. When the regular customers drifted into the Campus Tavern for the evening; their group fell back to the Elfsong.

---

Nyx breathed a sigh of relief at hearing familiar voices behind the apartment door, regardless of how raised they were. Wyll knocked politely and announced their arrival before barging in. It went silent as they entered; everyone was standing around the communal room, scowls on their faces. Jaheira looked particularly murderous. Nyx was too afraid to ask, rather she scanned each of her companions for signs of injury. There were none.

Thank the graces.

Lae’zel strode forward, clasped her hands behind her back and demanded from Tav, “Report.”

This chapter was partly inspired by Goosetarion and the following fanart by Indigonite (there are three panels to the mini-comic, link goes to Tumblr).

I mashed up Pathfinder's pugwampi with Forgotten Realms gremlin lore here: