#hey. i see that fucking gnome slander. idc if it's ic or not you leave the gnomes alone.

[avernusfuries]

Though she held the drow's eye, keen ears listened for the scrape of graves against the stone floors. As much as she would've liked to have lingered and picked apart the drow's journey into the underbelly of Moonrise, there wasn't much time to get her out without being waylaid by a patrolling guard. Well, the lot of them, as they would make their way over to the tieflings and Wulbren the moment they sprung Minthara out of what might've been her tomb. Tomb? Not quite — there was little doubt that while her mind might've fled, the vessel would remain. A harrowing thought, truly, and a fate Karlach wouldn't have slept easily on had she chosen to turn her back on her. That, she knew, was the steep price of being raised to consider what was right over what was deserved.

Even then, she knew that there were very, very few people that legitimately deserved it. She could think of one right off the top of her head, and, very predictably, Karlach felt that ever-familiar burn of hatred that had carried her through the first year in Avernus before the hope had fully kicked in.

"That makes a pleasant change from the last group of drow I stumbled across," she replied, and offered her a smile that she hoped was reassuring. Really, genuinely hoped. She knew that she cut an almost terrifying figure, standing as tall as she did and still cloaked in the cooled flames of the engine that lit up the little room. Not the blaze it once was, the barbarian noted with a small preen. She had been about to take her pack from her shoulders to offer her something to wipe away the blood. "Just act like they actually finished the process," she said, out of the corner of her mouth. A noise caught her attention and her head snapped towards the slightly ajar door.

No time for that, it would seem. Footsteps paused outside the door, and she had little doubt that their time had come. No time for dallying, it would seem. With a small, and very slight jerk of her head she bade for the drow to follow, as she flung open the door. Predictably, she was met with a scrutinising look.

"What are you doing with the prisoner, True Soul?" The disciple asked through grit teeth.

Karlach held her eye and mentally crossed her fingers.

"I figured I would take her to be my servant," she shot back brightly. A little too brightly to those familiar with the tiefling. Thankfully, this whole fucking place was filled with a plethora of complete and utter strangers. And a whole lot of bullshit, but she would sit on that when she didn't need to put on a show that was uncharacteristic.

She looked from Minthara, and right back to Karlach again and her eyes searched over her expression. She felt her heart plummet into her stomach and for a moment, she considered reaching for her axe. Her fingers twitched, before the guard smiled. It was a wretched, sadistic and terrible looking thing.

"See that you put her to good use, True Soul." And with a small salute, she moved back to her patrol, crashing up the stairs and into the main hall.

Karlach let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "Fuck me, that was close." As a scrying eye passed, and with the absence of another guard (for a minute or two, at least), she grabbed it, turned and volleyed it right into the floor where it shattered like a mirror. "And fuck that thing in particular. Come on, we need to figure out how to get our frien- er, associates? Out of their cells."

As the Drow listened she glanced at the members that stood at attention with her rescuer. She recognized them, vaguely, as the individuals that had fought alongside the Tiefling when they had fought. A slight squint is given to the black haired half elf in particular before her attention is brought back with the hand of a sword to her. A red gaze examines the weapon before she accepts it by the hilt and immediately there is a shock of the weave that sprouts from her palm. The heat of flame magic dances across her fingers and it flickers along the blade and for a moment she cannot fight the smile at her lips. Yes, yes, this will do quite nicely. She turns the blade in her hand as she falls in line with Karlach, ensuring that she is close to her flank to guard her should she need be.

"I can comply with what is necessary." She starts, lowly with the tilt of her head, listening keenly to the rap of boots on the cobble stone. The guards were patrolling as per their duty and Minthara already feels the tension build within her. She swearing to herself that she would not be taken alive, no matter the circumstance. Minthara, now that she was returned to herself, was quickly finding that she would quickly prefer oblivion to enslavement. But even so, fighting while preferable would still be equal parts foolish.

Minthara wants vengeance, it would do no good to die now.

"What ever you plan may be, we should move quickly." She lifts the blade and sets it into the sheath hooked at her back, feeling the flames die off with the break of the weave between her palm and the hilt. She scans the others again and pauses - this time an eyebrow raises when she notes how one of the males held a staff. Straj, one was a wizard. Her upper lip quivered into almost sneer before she turns her attention forward once more in her silence. she would have to take on more of the load of their party when he falls - and he will fall, wizards were as useful as a gnome in battle.

"I will follow your lead." Minthara concludes, even as the pain pulsed through her temple and shot through the base of her skull. The ache between her ears would have to be addressed later, even if the warmth of the blood seeped down her neck from her ear. She needed to focus now, "Onward."