Baldur 39-s Gate 3 -
Later, when the others slept, Lae’zel stood watch alone. Her fingers brushed the crimson cord on the hilt. She did not remove it.
She unwrapped the cloth with the same care she’d use to disarm a trap. Inside lay a longsword—not githyanki make, but sturdy. Elturel steel, by the look of the hilt. The blade was nicked but true. And wrapped around the grip, braided through the leather, was a single crimson cord. Karlach’s cord. From the sash she’d worn the day they escaped the nautiloid. 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. Later, when the others slept, Lae’zel stood watch alone