“Uh-huh.” Karlach grinned, and her canines caught the firelight. “And that’s why you keep reaching for a sword that isn’t there.”
“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
The githyanki moved like a blade through the gloom, silent, precise. But Karlach had known her for tendays now. She saw the small things: the way Lae’zel’s gauntleted fingers twitched toward her hip—not for her silver sword, but for the empty place behind it. The place where a second blade should hang. “Uh-huh
For a long moment, Lae’zel said nothing. Then, almost too quiet: “It is… inefficient. To fight with a single point of failure. A second blade is not sentiment. It is tactics.” But you give gifts like a kith’rak
Lae’zel didn’t move. “What is this?”
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 .”