THESE ILLITHIDS ARE NOT MY FRIENDS AND I DO NOT LIKE THEM

[psionicmolotov]

[ Container for Baldur's Gate 3 nonsense here ]

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[psionicmolotov]

[ Kimmuriel has been to a version of hell, one of the many and myriad hells that Toril has in store. The Abyss is terrible.

His first thought on waking up suddenly inside a strange device, the entire world shuddering around him, and realizing his memories of coming here are unusually scattered, is that just this once he might have preferred the Abyss.

He taps at the clear surface, noting as if in a haze how it feels much like glass, but surely isn't. Glass is expensive. Some kind of grown membrane, perhaps. The device - what else can he call it but that - is fleshy. It would make no sense if this was a manufactured material, it would be easier to grow it...

His thoughts chase each other in circles. He doesn't know why, now, it is so hard to focus, when he clearly needs that focus.

He tests the durability of the...membrane. Pushes against it, hits it repeatedly, to no avail. ]

If I can just... [ Focus. He needs to focus. He doesn't want to think about anything else, not the hot, tight knot of fury and betrayal (betrayal?) that has twisted itself inside his chest.

He can get out of here. He must. It isn't like him to be this disordered.

He leans against the glass, trying to muster energy once more. His breathing and heartbeat race for no reason he can recall right now, and that, in itself, feels like another betrayal. ]