Later, when the others slept, Lae’zel stood watch alone. Her fingers brushed the crimson cord on the hilt. She did not remove it.
“Tch. You fight like a ghustil ’s apprentice, Karlach. But you give gifts like a kith’rak .” She resettled her greatsword across her back. “When we reach the creche, I will tell the inquisitor that you are… acceptable.” baldur 39-s gate 3
Lae’zel’s amber eyes narrowed. “I am missing nothing , teething. I need only this blade to carve our path to the creche. To the zaith’isk. To purification .” Later, when the others slept, Lae’zel stood watch alone
The silence stretched. Shadowheart’s prayer faltered. Astarion looked up from his book. “Tch
She smiled. It was small—a crack in obsidian, a hairline fracture of warmth. She strapped the longsword to her hip, tested the draw, and nodded once.
In the dark, something with too many legs skittered close. Lae’zel drew both blades—the greatsword and the gift—and for the first time since the nautiloid, she felt whole.
Lae’zel didn’t move. “What is this?”