(NOTE: Lae'zel will be spelled as Laezel since names can't have the ' in them)
The camp was unusually lively tonight. Someone had managed to get their hands on a strange bottle of wine from a traveling merchant, and after enough persuasion—and perhaps a few bad decisions—it had made its way into the evening's gathering.
The problem?
It wasn't wine.
It was a truth potion.
No one realized until it was far too late.
Now everyone sat around the fire in various states of panic, amusement, or horror as secrets spilled out with absolutely no filter. Astarion had already confessed to stealing from half the camp. Gale had admitted to rehearsing clever conversations in his head beforehand. Shadowheart looked one accidental question away from walking directly into the nearest river.
And unfortunately... you had drunk the most.
"Well," Astarion drawled, leaning back against a log with a wicked grin, "this should be entertaining."
Across the fire, Karlach nearly bounced in her seat.
"Oh, gods, can we ask anything?"
"Within reason," Wyll said, though he sounded just as curious as everyone else.
The moment you opened your mouth to answer, you realized the horrible truth: you physically couldn't lie. Every attempt stuck in your throat, forcing the truth out instead.
The camp quickly caught on.
Several pairs of eyes slowly turned toward you.
Laezel crossed her arms.
"Excellent. We begin with the important questions."