Weaving Wonders - WingedTempest - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: Tav's Backstory

Chapter Text

One of Tav’s earliest memories includes hiding betwixt the leaves and brush of the lush High Forest and watching the enclave of wood elves practice their magic. She was entranced by their movements as they cast spells, the arcane power flowing through their bodies and grounding itself to the earth through their bare feet. The plant life that surrounded them would blossom and flourish as they cast, the leaves turning greener and the flowers blossoming bigger than Tav had previously thought possible.

She would have to be careful not to spend too much time in the depths of the High Forest, being sure to get back to her home in the civilized high-elf township for her own magic lessons. Her parents would take turns at the head of a class of young high-elves and perform magic of their own, slowly and with the intent to teach the youngest of the enclave. Tav would watch as they cast, their arcane ability seeming more cold and distant to her than the magics cast by the wood elves. The green shimmer that surrounded the wood elves felt warm like the rays of the sun, while the pink aura that surrounded her father as he taught was sickly-sweet like a sugar from another plane.

She would watch her father’s movements carefully as he stood at the head of the class, his hands moving intentionally slowly, and she caught his gaze focusing on her now and then to see if she was catching up. Tav tried to hide a grimace as she raised her arms, moving them in an arch in an attempt to imitate her father’s motions.

“Now, focus on the desired appearance of the illusion while you speak the verbal component…” Her father said. He took a deep breath before chanting the words - “Obtestor illus!”

The class echoed his words, shrill voices of young high elves all attempting to speak the incantation.

A few “oohs” and “aahs” came from the students as their spells succeeded. They had conjured glowing images and illusory effects amongst them. Some took the form of animals, others gave the air around them a glittering and glistening effect. The spells’ effects were entrancing to look at, but Tav remained focused on trying to cast her own Minor Illusion.

“Obtestor illus!” she called out, waving her hands to mimic her father.

She frowned, upset as she looked around the class to see so many magical illusions cast by her classmates. Yet… she knew she hadn’t succeeded herself. She felt nothing when she would chant the spell and perform the physical component. She was supposed to have sorcerer blood in her veins, but casting spells didn’t come naturally to her at all.

She saw her father’s disappointment in his eyes as he turned toward her. This wasn’t the first time she failed a lesson.
The look in his eyes made her feel such shame, it ingrained in her a hatred for magic. It made her feel like an outcast. Her classmates, some of them even younger than her, seemed to be ahead of her within the magic curriculum. But the way they all wielded magic lacked the emotion she so admired from the wood elves in the High Forest. They wielded the magic the same way a carpenter wields a hammer or a soldier wields a sword. It was a tool to them, lacking a certain kind of connection.

For the rest of the class, she watched as her father coached her classmates and encouraged them to keep focus, concentrating on their magic in order to keep it active as long as they could. As the class was drawing to a close, Tav took the opportunity to slip away while her father’s back was turned and he was aiding another student. She ran as quickly as her legs could carry her to the outskirts of the township, towards the depths of the High Forest. She ran into the brush, blinking back tears in her eyes. In her rush, she tripped and tumbled over a mossy rock jutting out from the ground, hidden by the lush greenery on the forest floor. Her small elven frame was thrust deeper into the brush, and she found herself crashed at the feet of a wood elf.
The wood elf looked to be only a bit older than herself, still considered a youngling. Her eyes were wide with curiosity, and her smile was kind as she bent over with an outstretched hand, offering to help Tav from the ground. Tav looked up at her and couldn’t help but smile and take her hand as she got up from the ground.

“Th-thank you.” Tav said in Sylvan, grateful for the kindness the wood elf had shown.
Her parents would often warn her not to go into the woods and associate with the wood elves, that they were “Troublesome” and “Primitive”. Tav never understood their disdain, even less so now.

“I… I’m Tav. What’s your name?” She said, trying not to be rude to her new acquaintance. She found it difficult not to stare, she had never been able to make out the details of the wood elves’ features before now.

The wood elf that stood before her was a young girl like herself, but instead of the golden hued skin Tav was accustomed to seeing amongst high elves, this girl’s skin was an olive green tone. It was lovely, like the color of moss growing on the north side of a tree.

“I’m Francesca.” The wood elf said back in Sylvan. “What… what are you doing here?” She asked curiously.

Tav noticed Francesca staring at her too, likely noting similar differences between their appearances.

“I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I just…” Tav hesitated, averting her gaze towards the ground shamefully. “I just wanna do magic like you do.” She muttered under her breath, just barely loud enough for Francesca to hear her.
Francesca chuckled softly, her curious gaze turning soft with empathy.

As Tav stared at the ground before her, she was startled to see a golden light in her peripheral vision. Taking a glance at Francesca’s feet, she could see a glowing yellow beam flow from the ground to the tips of her toes and up through her body. Tav leapt back in surprise, in awe as Francesca began casting a spell before Tav’s very eyes.

Francesca’s hands moved in an arch, a golden light in her palms. The motion reminded Tav of the sun moving across the sky. Francesca’s eyes began to glow with the same golden light that she held in her hands.

“Ductu ad te!” She called.

Tav watched as the golden light throughout her body gathered in her palms, its light shining brighter, when it suddenly disappeared with a glimmer.
A light breeze blew through the forest, carrying with it the buzz of insects and the music of birdsong. Tav felt the breeze carry something else within it, as its cool and calming air enveloped her.

“Silvanus guide you, child. May you find your own place in this world.” Francesca said, gathering her hand into a fist and pressing it to her heart.

“S-Silvanus?” Tav asked, unfamiliar.

“I have to go, my kin are calling for me. But if you wish to meet me again, I am often in this part of the forest. I would be glad to make a friend of you.” Francesca spoke hurriedly, grabbing a quarterstaff from the tall grass and rushing into the brush leading to the deeper part of the forest. In a blink, Francesca had all but disappeared into the green of the woods, leaving Tav alone with her thoughts.

There wasn’t much silence for her to ponder on as the brush behind her rustled and she heard twigs snap beneath the feet of someone approaching.

“Tav!” Called a familiar voice.

“M-mother?”

“Tav Clearwater- what are you doing out here!?” Her father’s voice cried out, as Tav saw the faces of both of her parents amongst the low hanging branches of the forest.

“I… I…” Tav couldn’t find the words. She knew she wasn’t supposed to come to these woods, and this kind of behavior was very unlike her. She did everything she could to be the perfect child for her parents, trying to make up for the fact she couldn't cast spells.
“Is that… magic?” Asked her father, looking her up and down.

“Could it be? Did you cast a spell?” Her mother asked, the excitement in her voice apparent. Before Tav could even begin to explain, she watched her mother mutter something under her breath and move her hands in a precise pattern. As she completed her cast, her excited smile turned to a concerned scowl.

“... Guidance?” She said aloud, realizing that the magic evident around Tav was not the work of a sorcerer.

“Tav, who did you meet with? What were you doing here?” Her father’s rising concern was evident in his tone of voice.

“I- I didn’t meet with anyone. I just… found them. I wasn’t doing anything!” Tav tried to prove her innocence but her parents had already formed their own interpretation of the situation.

“Come, Tav. We mustn’t stay here, it’s not safe.” Her mother called Tav to her side, outstretching a hand to hold.

Tav sulked, seeing she had once again disappointed her parents, and took her mother’s hand to be led out of the forest.

It wasn’t long after that incident that Tav’s parents decided that it would be best if they were to move to an area with less distractions from their daughter’s studies. They considered moving to Waterdeep, but Tav’s father had little faith that she would be accepted into their prestigious Blackstaff Academy. Instead, they opted to move to Baldur’s Gate and enroll Tav in courses at the city’s Citadel of Strategic Militancy. This training center was often the one that the city’s Flaming Fist defense would attend to learn basic fighting techniques. Although Tav was attending primarily for their combat magic classes, her parents agreed that the courses on basic battle maneuvers could be useful for her to know as well.

It was there at that Citadel that Tav spent a large majority of her time in her formative years. She would study and study and continue to be unable to perform magic. She failed so consistently she came to question her own bloodline. However, she did find solace in the fact that she became adept in physical combat. While the magic lessons pained her, the promise of combat training class kept her motivated to attend her courses diligently and routinely for many years. She watched so many members of the Flaming Fist enter the Citadel and graduate to a position in the City’s military during her time there, many of the professors were concerned she had been attending courses for too long.

“Never too old to learn!” was the headmaster’s stance on the situation, and Tav was grateful for him. He would often be the one to spar with her during her battle lessons, as he was one of the few left at the Citadel that could keep up with her in both speed and stamina.

Headmaster Hart Thornblood was a well established knight and general of the Flaming Fist and faithful worshiper of the Red Knight, an exarch of Tempus, god of battle and strategy. He knew his way around a blade, and presented an entertaining challenge for Tav during her training sessions.

Despite years and years of schooling, magic never came naturally to Tav. Her parents made lives for themselves in the city with their magic prowess, but their daughter failed to grow into her “true potential” as a sorceress.

The feeling that she had failed her parents haunted Tav as she grew up in Baldurs Gate and not a spark of magic came from her studies. She lived with that feeling for too long, with the cruel mindset that her desire to be rid of the feeling would drive her ambition even further to become an adept caster. Despite her efforts and her rigorous coursework, it did not. After a while the feeling of failure was numb to her, and that was when she shifted her focus toward battle strategy and maneuvers. Headmaster Thornblood had told her that she would make a fine tactician one day after seeing her advise some classmates on their attack strategy when facing a formation of animated armor in the training ground. She wasn’t a failure in his eyes, despite him signing the paperwork for her failed combat magic course year after year after year. He would still allow her to re-enroll.

During one lesson around noon in Eleasis (Mid-summer), the sun was high in the sky and its rays were beating on the training ground so much to make everyone in armor sweat through their underclothes.

“Alright, trainees! Swords away, and go git yerselves some pints at the Blushin’ Mermaid. No use fightin’ in this mad heat, the trainin’ grounds’ll turn to mud with all the water yer pourin’ out.” Commander Highgold called down from the spectating stand above the training ground. His dwarven accent was thick and commanding, but also warm like a spiced rum.

The entire class sighed with relief as they all yanked their helmets off, revealing steaming hair and damp faces. There were about 6 of them in total, all of them ripping off the armor that was practically baking them in the sunlight.

“Thank the gods. They don’t call Eleasis “Highsun” for nothin’, eh?” chirped one of the trainees, wringing sweat out of her dampened hair.

A few of the other trainees chuckled. Tav was certainly grateful for the break, a cold stein of ale sounded like heaven for her parched throat.

The group of them all headed out of the Citadel together and began walking towards the city docks that the Blushing Mermaid tavern so famously overlooked, all talking amongst themselves.

The Training Grounds Class of 1492:
Cora Aidengrace - Human Female - Dark skin, long black hair, sarcastic, loves cheap ale, can take a hit like a champ. Gets distracted easily.
Edmund Stillfellow - Human Male - Short, Pale skin, short wavy light brown hair, soft spoken but a good fighter when he is focused. Doesn’t know what to do when he is disarmed.
Kilas Fretter - Tiefling Male - Pale orange skin, light brown hair shoulder length but worn tied up, two ivory horns pointed upwards and inwards. Gives a battle his full effort, but fails to recognize weaknesses of an enemy.
Deserae Fretter - Tiefling Female - Pale orange skin, blonde hair long but half shaven on the left. Two ivory horns curled downwards like a ram. Very observant and can pinpoint enemy weaknesses, but sometimes hesitates when making attacks.
Redd Gregorian - Half-orc male, pale green skin, nose ring, blonde quaffed hair. Superior strength, but not proficient in anything except a battleaxe.
Tav Clearwater - High Elf Female - Golden tan skin, Black wavy hair kept out of her face, Hazel eyes. Can recognize weaknesses of enemies easily, is confident when attacking, cannot wield magic and is sometimes frightened of magic enemies.

“Kilas, I can’t believe you haven't noticed that one animated armor never covers his left flank. He leaves it wide open, yet you go for his right every time!” Deserae piped, swinging her arms as if she was wielding a sword, smacking the right flank of an enemy.

“What are you talking about Des, I always hit him on the left!” Kilas exclaimed. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “Wait… my left or his left?”
“His left!” Deserae explained, exasperation in her voice.

“I think Kilas favors hitting enemies on the right no matter who the opponent. That seems to be the first swing he makes.” Tav chimed in as they all walked down the city street.

“At least I take a swing even without a sword in my hand, Edmund.” Kilas retorted, looking over his shoulder at the soft spoken human.

“H-hey! I just don’t like bruising my fists! At least I can wield practically anything, Re-” Edmund began to redirect the focus to Redd’s shortcomings when Redd whipped around shooting a glare at Edmund that could rival a Beholder.

“N-nevermind…” Edmund backtracked and Redd let out a soft grunt of approval.

“You lollygags are too slow! We’ll never get to the Mermaid at this rate! Come on, T, I need ale!” Cora ran up from the back of the pack, snatching Tav’s wrist and dragging her ahead of the group, straight towards the docks.

“Gah! Okay, okay!” Tav was caught off guard, but quickly caught up to the speed of Cora as they ran towards the tavern ahead of everyone.

As they approached the tavern, Tav found herself gazing out onto the docks. The ships coming in and unloading, the pungent smell of fish and seawater assaulting her. She was used to the rather musty smell of the city, but the docks were on another level. The sun’s blinding light reflected off of the choppy waves of the Sea of Swords. It didn’t smell the cleanest, but it certainly looked refreshing in this heat.

“T?” Cora chimed, trying to get Tav’s attention as she was looking longingly out across the sea. They were stood just outside the Blushing Mermaid now.

“Uh-” she started “Can I catch up with you in a minute?” She asked, turning back to look at Cora. Cora couldn’t quite tell what was going through Tav’s mind, but she nodded despite her suspicions.
“Sure thing, girl. I’ll grab you a pint.” She smiled, and let go of Tav’s wrist as she turned to go inside the Blushing Mermaid.

Tav smiled back gratefully, walking briskly toward the docks.

She weaved her way through fishmongers and sailors, heaving crates and barrels full of who-knows-what. The smell of fish and saltwater only got stronger as she passed through crowds of traders, there to buy and sell the goods that were coming in from overseas. Wine from Thay, cheese from Waterdeep, herbs from Amn. Those more delectable smells were masked by the heavy stink of the city.

As Tav walked down one of the docks and approached the water, she couldn’t help but feel giddy. Gods, what she would give to take a dip in the sea to escape this heat - but Mystra knows what creatures lie below in those murky waters. Instead, she took her shoes off and sat herself down at the edge of the dock, her feet dangling near the water’s surface. The tide was low enough that her toes didn’t get wet, but it wasn’t the lowest she had seen it get.

She closed her eyes as she sat at the dock’s edge, letting all the sounds and sensations of the coastline soak in. She felt the light, salty mist of the ocean on her skin, heard the call of hungry gulls and the splash of waves against the hulls of harbored ships. Her mind felt at peace, despite the chaos of the vendors and seamen that bustled around her. The coastal breeze against her skin caused her mind to wander back to the days of her childhood, when the wind would rustle the treetops in the High Forest and caress her face. She had grown accustomed to her life in Baldur’s Gate and her classmates’ company - but she still found herself missing the more rural lifestyle she had in the High Elf township of the High Forest.

Tav took one more deep breath in, soaking in all the coast had to offer before she knew she had to go and grab the pint of ale that Cora was saving for her. She hoped it was red ale - that is - if Cora hadn’t drank it already.

Tav opened her eyes, greeted by the glistening water before her, seemingly endless in its expanse. She leaned over the edge of the dock, eager to see the waves lapping up against the dock supports.

“Ah!-” She exclaimed softly, shocked by the water below her.

She could see a spiral of water at her toes rising up, reaching to the sky as if it was climbing to the sun itself. She peered at it curiously, tilting her head perplexed at the water’s unnatural behavior. As her head tilted to one side, the water shifted in the same movement. Tav straightened her back, startled by the water’s sudden shift. Slowly and curiously, she waved her head to the opposite side keeping her eyes on the risen water formation. As she moved her head, the water moved as well.

Once again she leaned over the dock, looking into the murky waters expecting to see a siren or a porpoise of some kind playing a trick on her. Alas, there were no creatures to be found. As she peered down into the water, she noticed a faint blue light emanating from the waves, its glow creeping upwards to Tav’s toes. The aura was familiar to Tav, the way it anchored itself to her body…

She recalled the way that the yellow glow from the High Forest traveled through young Francesca’s body as she cast spells. Surely this wasn’t magic. From the ocean? Tav was no merfolk, she was of high elf blood through and through. Tav lifted her hands from the surface of the dock she was leaning on, her eyes widening at the sight of a blue glow in her palms. She was casting a spell on the water… making it move. It was her… wielding magic for the first time in her life.

Her grin was impossible to hide. She jumped to her feet in excitement and felt her lose concentration on the shape water spell, but it didn’t matter. She could finally do it! The thing she harbored so much shame for… she had overcome it. She had to tell the others. She had to tell Cora! She might finally pass Combat Magic this year! She hurriedly pulled on her shoes, when she felt the intensity of the midsummer sun fade. Clouds? The skies had been clear all week, surely some rain would be a welcome respite. Turning her gaze upwards, she felt dread sink through her entire body.

Above the city a gruesome tentacled ship was tearing its way through the sky obstructing the sun. Its appendages shot out in all directions, wreaking havoc on the tallest bell tower in the city. One moment there was one, and in seconds there were many, all entering the airspace of Baldur’s gate in an instant through portals that were dark like the night sky. The city was in panic, people racing through the streets, attempting to escape the grasp of the ships’ menacing tentacles.

Tav felt adrenaline coursing through her, leaping into action as she sprinted across the dock and toward the Blushing Mermaid. She had to find her friends and make sure they got to cover. In her peripheral vision she saw one of the ships’ slimy tentacles wrap itself around a civilian, their body disappearing in a puff of blackened ash. What was this enemy? It was unlike anything she had ever been trained to face off against. She kept sprinting, trying to keep the fear of the unknown from her mind, focusing in on the doors of the Blushing Mermaid. She was close, almost there in fact. Her arm was outstretched toward the door when she felt it- the cold wet embrace of the ship’s tentacles around her leg. One moment the tavern door was within her grasp, and the next she was in an endless darkness…

Chapter 2: The Escape

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A wave of heat, the loud and screeching call of a dragon, the sound of a crash and the roaring of fire, the cacophony was overwhelming as I felt my body stir awake from what felt like a nightmare, but it was all too real. I blinked my eyes open, my temples pulsing with pain and heat. The pain brought back a dream-like memory of a horrifying tentacled creature, extending its spindly fingers towards my eye, a gruesome larvae between his fingernails. Just the thought of it made me nauseous. That monster put a worm in my eye?! What in the Nine Hells did I get wrapped up into?

I pushed the pain in my forehead aside and looked around me. I was in an alien-like pod made of mucus and flesh-like material. Pushing on the glass left a sticky residue on my hands, but the unit opened with little pressure. I hopped out, looking around to see several pods identical to my own. A few of them had the glass shattered, and others sat empty but sealed tight. The entire room was aglow with fire, crackling and threatening to spread further with every passing moment. I had to get out.

I ran to the north of the room, where the wall pulsated with anticipation. The room was alive, and the door reflexed like a muscle as I approached, beckoning me to the adjacent area. I quickly hopped through the opening, fearing it would close it’s tendons around my body if I didn’t move quick enough. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw bodies laying dead and bloodied on operating tables scattered throughout the next room. Was this to be my fate if I didn’t escape whatever this nightmare was?

An unnatural wave of heat hit my face, reminiscent of the Eleasis sun but amplified in its intensity. I could practically feel it draining the moisture from my skin and parching my throat with every breath.

On the other side of the room, visions of red, rocky terrain rushed past in a blur. We were… flying? A glimpse of a purple tentacle-like tendril caused my memory to rush back in a haze. I was on… one of those accursed ships that flew into Baldur’s Gate. But we most certainly weren’t over the city anymore.

I ran over to get a closer look, careful to keep my footing secure and not fall off the ship entirely. Below us were pools of molten rock, fire burning across the entire terrain, jagged rock formations levitating in mid-air. The creatures below looked like ants from this high up in the air, but their horns and wings were a dead giveaway to their identity. They were devils, and we were flying over the first layer of hell - Avernus.

“sh*t.” I said aloud, almost startled by my own voice. My head was swimming with thought as I stared out onto the desolate fiery plain below. My thoughts were quickly interrupted by the metallic glint of a blade in the firelight and a gust of air across my skin. I found myself at the wrong end of a longsword in the blink of an eye, a formidable female Githyanki wielding the blade poised at my heart.

“Abomination! This is your end.” She exclaimed, as the ruby vision of a red dragon flew past the ship.
As she let out her battle cry, I felt for some strange reason that I recognized her. Then, I felt like something within me recognized her. Both of us winced at the same moment, holding our head in our hands. It felt like something was slamming against my skull, when all of a sudden I saw visions of myself in the pod racing through my memory. This was… the githyanki’s memory. She too had gotten a worm forced into her skull at the hands of a tentacled monstrosity.

“Agh! My head… what is this?” She asked, as the pain in our heads subsided. I hadn’t the faintest idea what was going on. I knew I had never met her before, Githyanki tended to care only for the company of their own race and did not frequent the major cities of the Sword Coast.

“Tsk’va! You are no thrall. Vlaakith blesses me this day. Together, we might survive.” She stowed the blade she was wielding on her back, narrowing her gaze as she looked me up and down.
“Thrall? I- How the hells do we get out of here? Who are you?” I stammered, still reeling from the fact I was inches from imminent death by this Githyanki’s hand not a moment ago.

“I’m your only chance of survival.” She said with a grin, tossing me a shortsword she had on her hip. I caught it before it hit me, grateful to feel the weight of a blade in my hands once again. I felt significantly more at ease with something to defend myself with, just in case this warrior-turned-friend decided to change their allegiances.

“Come, in order to get off this ship, we’ll need to get through those.” She nodded her head toward several imps that were feasting on the corpses of the fallen. The bodies were dressed in plain clothing, they must have been hostages too. How many people did this ship kidnap?

The Githyanki warrior let out a battle cry as she charged toward the imps, raising her longsword high in the air. I hurriedly charged behind her, shortsword in hand, ready to spill some blood and get out of this hellscape.
We were able to tear through the imps with little effort, the Githyanki’s prowess in battle was impressive to say the least.

“This way!” She called, running across the corpses littered on the ground. I spotted a crossbow clutched by the cold hands of one of the fallen civilians. I tried not to think about the fate of the former owner as I snatched it. It would be useful to have a weapon with more range.

“Where are we going? Who even are you?” I called to the githyanki, my trust wavering.

“You can call me Lae’zel of K’liir, and we are going to the helm of this ship - this nautiloid. I mean to take it over from the hands of the ghaik that infected us with these tadpoles.” She spoke quickly as she climbed up to another level of the ship.

Her headstrong attitude and confidence in her actions left me no choice but to trust her intuition. She certainly had more sense of direction as to next steps than I did, who was I to question her? I leapt up onto some platforms seeming to lead to another chamber of the ship, tailing Lae’zel and doing my best to keep up.

Chapter 3: Meeting the Wizard

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I gathered myself, shaking the fear from my mind after slamming my foot into the skull of the dying Mind Flayer. I shuddered as I recalled the grotesque way it invaded my mind and made me want to serve it just now. I could only hope that there was nothing - or nobody- that could further exploit that ability on me. The thought of not being able to control myself fully seemed to be a non-issue up until now, and it created a deep fear within me. Pushing the horror of it aside, I continued to traverse the burning landscape and scattered fragments of the nautiloid, keeping my eyes peeled for any other monsters that may be lurking around the crash-site.

“Dead goblins. Could be useful to look for supplies. Let’s just hope there aren’t more where that came from.” Shadowheart piped up as she followed behind me, nodding her head towards some goblins that appeared to have been killed in the crash.

Kneeling down to the bodies, they didn't have too much that was useful on them, but I stowed one of their scimitars on my hip. If I could find Lae’zel I owed her that shortsword back. I stood from the ground, raising the back of my hand to wipe the sweat from my forehead as I looked out to the choppy water on the coastline. The blazing sun and the burning ship combined didn’t create a very temperate environment. Maybe if I could get to the coastline I could control the water again and cool us off…? How did I even do that before? I most certainly didn’t learn magic like that in class, It wasn’t exactly a “combat” spell.

Interrupting my thoughts as I mindlessly headed towards the coastline was a buzzing sound, getting louder as I approached the water. As I turned a corner, I was startled by the appearance of a swirling purple sigil jutting out from a rocky cliffside, buzzing and crackling with magic energy. It looked unstable to say the least. I approached it with caution, and overheard Shadowheart from behind me as she drew the mace from her back and braced her shield.

“Take caution… this looks dangerous.” She said quietly, but she seemed confident I would know how to address the situation. I guess I earned a lot of trust from her since I was able to unlock that pod she was stuck in. Or…she was too clever to put herself in danger, eager to let me throw myself head first into a harmful environment to save her own skin. She was hard to read.

The sigil swirled and released zaps of energy erratically. I jumped back, out of fear of getting struck with the unstable magic. The jagged streaks of purple light nearly struck me as they were thrown from the center of the magic vortex. I felt my heart nearly leap out of my chest as I was staring at the swirling runes and an arm popped out of the center. I heard the clink of armor behind me as Shadowheart shuffled backwards in surprise as well.

“A hand? Anyone?” a voice called, echoing from the dark center of the sigil.

Without thinking, I jumped into action, taking hold of the outstretched hand and pulling backwards as hard as I could. As I stood close to the sigil, I could sense the volatile swirl of magic that kept the victim trapped, like a vacuum or a whirlpool with a great force preventing their escape. The aura of it was reminiscent of the magic my parents would so often cast, but it felt broken and incomplete.

“What are you doing? We don’t know who is in there!” I heard Shadowheart say, keeping her voice to a whisper, but making her disapproval evident in her tone.

With a final tug, I felt the hold of the magic give way. I and the formerly trapped victim fell backwards, tossed into the dirt at the foot of the cliff. I heard the buzzing and crackling of the sigil quiet as I gathered myself.

I hastened to get back on my feet, brushing the sand and dust from myself as I stood, meeting eyes with the stranger whom I had saved.

He stood from the ground, also dusting his purple robe of any debris, and met my gaze with a grin.

His smile was charming and bright, and the look in his deep brown eyes showed gratitude while remaining astute. He arched his back and puffed out his chest in a stretching motion, wincing as he did so as if his body was a little rattled from the tumble he had taken.
“Hello!” He chimed with an unexpected gleeful tone, holding out his hand towards me for a handshake.

“I’m Gale - of Waterdeep.” He introduced himself formally. “Apologies, I’m usually better at this...”

“At introductions?” I teased, shaking his hand.

I heard him exhale out of his nose sharply, amused at my half-joke.

“At magic.” He half-smiled, the gleam in his eyes recognizing my wit and revealing his own.

He combed his hair back with his fingers so that it wouldn’t cover his face, the shoulder length chocolate brown locks framing his sharp jawline. He appeared remarkably well-groomed for someone who was trapped in such a predicament a moment ago.

“Are you alright?” I asked him, looking him up and down for any signs of injury. The fact that he was a magic user had me on alert- if he was a threat I would have to be ready to dodge his spells while initiating close combat- not an easy thing to achieve. I observed his next movements closely, my fears calmed by his lack of aggression.

“A bit shocked- but friend, it is a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” as he looked at me with grateful eyes, his face lit up with recognition and he pointed a finger at me.

“Say, but I know you don’t I?” He started.

I looked at him quizzically. I had never met him before as far as I could recall.

“Uh- In a manner of speaking. You were on the nautiloid as well.” He explained himself. I couldn’t say I recalled seeing him on the mind flayer vessel, but I was more curious as to the magic that had entrapped him.

“Never mind the ship, how did you get trapped in that stone?” I inquired, trying to hide my fear of the volatile magic that I had found on the cliffside.

He put his hand to his chin, rubbing his trimmed beard in thought.

“I don’t know what transpired exactly, but the ship broke into pieces and I suddenly found myself in freefall. As I was plummeting to certain death, I spied a glimmer quite near where I estimated my body to impact with- eh…less-than savory propulsion.”

The way he described his encounter made it clear to myself and any other listeners that he was a well-educated man. I found myself stifling a grin as I listened to him speak so eloquently. It was… entertaining. I found it reminiscent of a bard enthralling patrons at a tavern.

“Recognizing this glimmer to be magical in nature, I reached out to it with a Weaving of words and found myself on the other side… as it were.”

This man spoke as if he was rather adept at magic- with the ability to recognize it with such ease. Despite his claims, I questioned his skill considering the result of his “word weaving” leaving him on the inside of a cliff. However, If he really was experienced, being able to observe his abilities closely now that I had discovered my own could prove useful.

“How about you? How did you survive the fall?” He looked at me with a sort of suspicion, also nodding towards Shadowheart who stood behind me. Her shield was lowered, but her mace was still in hand.

I thought back to the memory of being in freefall myself, seeing the coastline and trying to land in the water in order to avoid the impact land would bring. I remember realizing that I wouldn’t be able to land safely in the sea, but I didn’t recall much past that. The next thing I could remember was waking up amongst the rubble of the crash.

“Honestly, I have no idea…” I said to him, exhaling as I spoke with exasperation at my own inability to remember. I put my hand to my head, in part as a reflex when I realized I didn’t know the answer to his question and in part to feel for any injury.

“Fair enough.” He started. “Even so, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy.”

I wasn’t exactly looking forward to what he was going to say next with a beginning like that…

“Back on the ship, you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region, were you not?” He asked, pointing a finger to his own eye.

He had a worm in his head too? What a bizarre situation so many people on that ship had found themselves in. Even more bizarre that we had survived long enough to find each other.

Trying not to recall the blood curdling image of the worm squeezing its way into my eye socket, I retorted:

“Couldn’t have phrased it more repellently myself.”

Gale grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

“No use sugarcoating it, is there?”

Before I could get a witty response in, he continued:

“This insertee we speak of, this parasite- are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation it will turn us into mind flayers? It is a process known as ceremorphosis and let me assure you-”

He furrowed his brow, locking eyes with me to make himself clear-

“- It is to be avoided.” He said in a matter of fact tone, holding up a finger to emphasize his point.

The realization was startling. Become a Mindflayer? I couldn’t imagine the horror of the transformation. Gale’s shift in demeanor told me he could likely see the growing concern and fear in my face.

“You… wouldn’t happen to be a cleric would you? A doctor? Surgeon?” He queried.

With every occupation he named I could feel my stress rise and my expression fail to hide it.

“... Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?” Gale joked, jabbing at the air as if he was holding a needle, acutely aware of the concern that grew in me and was plastered all over my face.

His playful banter did manage to get a chuckle out of me though, easing my discomfort only slightly. A stern voice came from behind me, Shadowheart making herself known.

“You seem to know enough about our condition to know it's beyond most clerics’ skills.” She pointed out, almost accusatory in her tone.

Gale smirked at her. “Most, no doubt. But I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few. You don’t… happen to be one of them?” He gestured to the both of us, with little hope in his tone.

I had never heard of an ailment such as this until I found myself a victim of it. I had learned plenty of first aid and survival medicine in my combat training courses, but nothing to resolve something so… alien.

“I can tend to basic wounds and ailments, but I’m afraid something of this caliber is out of my realm of expertise.” I told him, regrettably. Shadowheart nodded with me in agreement. Despite her gods-given gifts of healing and repair, she was unable to cure such a condition either.

Gale sighed. “As we've established, few enough can. It’s not exactly a common affliction.” He said with a bit of defeat in his voice.

“We’re most certainly going to need a healer, and soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together?” He pitched optimistically.

I was thankful for any company I could get on this endeavor, all three of us in search of the solution to a common goal sounded like it would offer a better chance of success. I turned toward Shadowheart, in an attempt to read how she might feel about the situation.

She looked back at me, her gaze telling that she trusted me to make the final decision, she would go along either way. I appreciated her confidence in me.

“Sounds like a plan to me. You’re welcome to join us.” I smiled and gestured to Shadowheart. She watched Gale’s movements like a panther stalking its prey.

“Most excellent! A parasite shared is a parasite… halved. Or… something to that effect.” He said, fumbling his metaphors, but grinning through it.

I smiled and turned from him, preparing to move forward all together when Gale touched my shoulder in order to get my attention once more.

“Ah-” He began.

“Before you think you’re about to embark on a journey with most ill-mannered a man: thank you for pulling me out of that stone.” He spoke with true earnesty, taking a formal, respectful bow before me. As he straightened himself he looked up so that his eyes met mine, his gaze brimming with confidence.

“It was an act of foresighted kindness, I assure you, for I have the feeling ample opportunities will present themselves for me to return the favor.”

His tone was unwavering and steady, and I appreciated how straightforward he had been. I also appreciated his very deliberate display of manners, something that I wasn't used to hanging around soldiers-in-training all the time. Shadowheart was understandably suspicious of him, but I heard them exchanging introductions in a fairly friendly manner as I continued to lead us all toward the coastline.

“Agh! My head… what is this?” She asked, as the pain in our heads subsided. I hadn’t the faintest idea what was going on. I knew I had never met her before, Githyanki tended to care only for the company of their own race and did not frequent the major cities of the Sword Coast.

“Tsk’va! You are no thrall. Vlaakith blesses me this day. Together, we might survive.” She stowed the blade she was wielding on her back, narrowing her gaze as she looked me up and down.

“Thrall? I- How the hells do we get out of here? Who are you?” I stammered, still reeling from the fact I was inches from imminent death by this Githyanki’s hand not a moment ago.

“I’m your only chance of survival.” She said with a grin, tossing me a shortsword she had on her hip. I caught it before it hit me, grateful to feel the weight of a blade in my hands once again. I felt significantly more at ease with something to defend myself with, just in case this warrior-turned-friend decided to change their allegiances.

“Come, in order to get off this ship, we’ll need to get through those.” She nodded her head toward several imps that were feasting on the corpses of the fallen. The bodies were dressed in plain clothing, they must have been hostages too. How many people did this ship kidnap?

The Githyanki warrior let out a battle cry as she charged toward the imps, raising her longsword high in the air. I hurriedly charged behind her, shortsword in hand, ready to spill some blood and get out of this hellscape.

We were able to tear through the imps with little effort, the Githyanki’s prowess in battle was impressive to say the least.

“This way!” She called, running across the corpses littered on the ground. I spotted a crossbow clutched by the cold hands of one of the fallen civilians. I tried not to think about the fate of the former owner as I snatched it. It would be useful to have a weapon with more range.

“Where are we going? Who even are you?” I called to the githyanki, my trust wavering.

“You can call me Lae’zel of K’liir, and we are going to the helm of this ship - this nautiloid. I mean to take it over from the hands of the ghaik that infected us with these tadpoles.” She spoke quickly as she climbed up to another level of the ship.

Her headstrong attitude and confidence in her actions left me no choice but to trust her intuition. She certainly had more sense of direction as to next steps than I did, who was I to question her? I leapt up onto some platforms seeming to lead to another chamber of the ship, tailing Lae’zel and doing my best to keep up.

Chapter 4: Meeting the Rogue

Chapter Text

While the water was cool and refreshing on our faces as the sun beat down, I found no success in summoning the magic I managed to wield in the Gate’s Grey Harbour. We had taken some time indulging in the sweet relief that the water granted us from the heat of the day when we heard a desperate cry ring out from near the crash. Another of the mind flayers’ victims? Or an unfortunate passer-by caught at the site of the crash at just the wrong time?

“Sounds like that could be worth investigating…” Shadowheart said, turning her ear up to the sky to try to discern the direction the call came from. “This way.” she beckoned before heading off.

The three of us crept through the crash site, stepping over the corpses of intellect devourers and avoiding any strange liquids the ship leaked. As we looked around for the source of the call, we jumped at the sight of a pale, slender elf that was looking off into a nearby brush. His eyes lit up when he saw us, flagging us down desperately.

“You there! You must help me. Over there-” he pointed to the brush, his voice pleading, “I’ve got one of those brain things cornered. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”

I looked the man up and down as I considered his plea. He had wavy hair as white as the mountain tops of Neverwinter, framing the sharp elven features of his face. I had never seen an elf of his pallor, the fair color of his skin even more evident in the Eleasis sun. The distress in his eyes as he looked toward me for help appealed to my better nature, and I drew my shortsword from my belt and agreed to help him.

I snuck toward the brush that he had been peering into when we approached, keeping an eye out for the scurrying of an intellect devourer. My heart leaped into my throat when I saw the bushes jostle in the corner of my eye. I tensed my muscles, priming to strike at anything that came my way- when a frightened boar dashed into view, running to get as far from me as it could. I relaxed my rigid muscles, relieved to see that there was no intellect devourer, when I felt a cold hand grasp at my shirt.

I stumbled backwards, grunting in frustration as I was yanked to the ground, the nimble frame of the pale elf pinning me still. I could feel the cool metal of a dagger against my throat as he threatened to push it further into my skin. His once pleading eyes looked at me with malice and anger, all while maintaining the same faint hint of desperation that they had before. I struggled beneath his grip, wriggling as I attempted to escape him, but his grasp on me was secure.

“Ah ah. Don’t be so difficult. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.” He threatened, pressing the sharp edge of the dagger against my skin. I felt my breathing hasten.

I heard my companions shift as I fell to the ground at the hands of the elf. The rapid clink of Shadowheart’s armor was apparent as she braced her weapon and shield, her eyes darkening towards the elf that held me captive. Gale braced himself for a fight, too, his eyes flickering with intensity as he watched the elf’s every move.

“Keep your distance, you lot. No need for this to get messy.” The elf sneered at the wizard and the cleric who stood nearby.

“Couldn’t agree more. But if you use that knife- I will incinerate you.” Gale taunted, a small flame hovering above his palm as he looked at the elf with a challenge in his glare.

The elf called his bluff. “And your friend, with me? I think not. All you need to do is answer a few questions…” He started, turning back towards me as I squirmed beneath his grip. “I saw you on the ship, didn’t I?”

I gritted my teeth, still trying to escape from his hold on me without success. Seeing little hope in my escape, I nodded in response.

His eyes went alight with satisfaction. “I knew it. You were in league with those-those- GAH!” His thought was interrupted as he pressed a hand to his temple, wincing in agony.

I felt it too. A wretched crawling itch that reverberated inside my skull. It was just like when Lae’zel had recognized me as an ally while on the nautiloid. I pushed through the discomfort and managed to tumble out of his grasp while he was under the tadpole’s influence. In my mind I found myself prowling dark, busy streets looking out of unfamiliar eyes. I only felt it for a moment, before the elf shot his eyes open again with new realization.

“I… saw it all. You were a victim too… just the same as me.” He said. “And to think, I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies.” He offered weakly, standing from the ground and offering me a hand.

I heard Gale scoff at the half-hearted remorse for nearly committing murder. It was a little lackluster of an apology to be sure.

“Those tentacled monstrosities absconded with any peace offering I might have given- so I hope an introduction will suffice. My name’s Astarion.” He said in a dignified tone, taking a small bow. “I was in Baldur’s gate when those wretched captors snatched me.”

My ears pricked up at the sound of my home city. I didn’t recognize him, but there were so many people who called the Gate their home I knew it was impossible to know them all.

“Well? Do you know anything about these worms they’ve implanted in us?” He asked, gesturing towards his eye.

“Just that they will turn us into mind flayers.” Shadowheart said, making the exhaustion in her tone clear.

“Turn us into- Ha! Ha ha ha! Of course it’ll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?” Astarion said, laughing hysterically at the dread of it all.

“I’d suggest you join us in our attempt to find a healer, but I tend not to trust those who resort to violence so… effortlessly” Gale said, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Is that so?” Astarion said in a sing-song tone. “Well, sometimes it’s good to have someone so easily provoked on your side. You never know what threats might befall you out here…”

Gale pursed his lips in thought. I wondered if he was actually being persuaded by the elf’s words or if he feigned his own consideration.

“Hmph. Why not? Feel free to come along- but should you hold a blade to any of us, consider yourself a goner.” I said, looking dead into his eyes as I spoke. He could tell I meant business.

“Of course. I’ll be nothing but a gentleman.” He assured me. The abundance of manner in his voice gave me cause to doubt him, but so long as one of us always kept an eye out I figured all would be well.

As we wandered through the crash site, I noted that Gale and Shadowheart protectively placed themselves between myself and our new elven friend. I smiled to myself, glad to see that there was a semblance of trust built amongst us. I could only hope the budding strength of our bonds could be translated to the power necessary to overcome our unfavorable situation.

Chapter 5: Finding the Fighter

Chapter Text

After not too much wandering, I came across the familiar face of Lae’zel - looking rather unhappy as she stood in a cage swinging from a tree branch. Two tieflings staled around on the ground below, staring up at her with fear in their eyes. They had every right to be afraid while she wore an expression like that. As we approached, her white hot stare caught mine, triggering an uncomfortable but familiar wriggling in my brain.

“Get rid of them.” Her voice demanded, but her lips didn’t even twitch. Well, when she could perform tricks like that, I certainly wasn’t going to argue.

I overheard the two tieflings bickering with each other about what exactly to do with the githyanki they had swinging above them when I decidedly interjected their conversation.

“I hate to interrupt, but I think you might be better off fleeing. I’ve fought Githyanki before- I can handle this.” I said to them, trying to make them fear Lae’zel just a bit more. Enough to make them want to get as far away as possible.

I held my breath as I feared they would detect the lie I had told them. The only githyanki I had fought were the ones made of wood and straw that the academy occasionally used for training. I was familiar with some of their battle maneuvers, but never had I seen one in the flesh until I found myself on the mind flayer ship.

The tieflings looked at one another, considering my words.

“Thank you, stranger. We’ll be on our way.” They said, deciding it was best if they were to subtract themselves from the battle they anticipated.

Shadowheart braced her mace and shield, preparing for a fight. I looked at her sternly, making sure the tieflings were out of earshot before I scolded her.

“Shadowheart! We aren’t going to actually fight her!” I sneered, and Shadowheart rolled her eyes, stowing her mace and lowering her shield.

“She isn’t to be trusted. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She remarked, eye-ing Lae’zel as her cage swayed back and forth from the light summer breeze.

“Kainyank.” Lae’zel spat, her glare towards Shadowheart intensifying.

“Ah, the sweet sound of two tressyms swatting at one another. How I look forward to hearing this play out during our travels.” Gale remarked, sarcasm lacing his every word. He was already weary of the animosity between the Githyanki and the cleric, and Lae’zel hadn’t even touched the ground yet.

I pulled back on my bowstring, taking a steadying breath as I aimed towards the rope that held the cage in the air. With an exhale, I released an arrow towards my target, hearing a satisfactory shk! resound as the arrow’s sharp edge sliced through the rope’s fibers. The cage fell from above, shattering into oblivion as it crashed to the ground. Lae’zel leapt from the ground as the bars around her were destroyed.

“It seems the tadpole hasn’t yet scrambled all your senses. Auspicious.” Lae’zel remarked, looking me up and down. She glanced at Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale who were in tow behind me, her gaze full of silent judgement.

“The longer we wait- the more it consumes. My people know of a cure for this infection- I must find a creche and you will join me.” Lae’zel snapped, holding her head high.

Her tone of voice made me hesitate to argue, but walking into any space full of githyanki as a high elf truly sounded like a death sentence.

“And why should we trust you, of all people, have a cure? Gith aren’t to be trusted.” Shadowheart sneered.

Lae’zel looked at her disapprovingly, loading her lips like bolts in a crossbow.

“Githyanki protocol is clear. When infected with a ghaik tadpole, report to the nearest creche for purification.” She shot back.

“Are we really going to believe she has a cure for our specific malady? She could very well be luring us to our deaths.” Shadowheart looked to me and our companions.

“Chk! You’ve a sharp tongue on you, elf. Would that your mind proved its equal.” Lae’zel growled towards a suspicious Shadowheart.

“Half-elf.” She corrected. “But I suppose finer details are lost on a creature like you.”

“I say we go with her. There’s less harm having her alongside us than being at the wrong end of her blade.” Astarion remarked, eyeing the longsword Lae’zel had strapped to her back. It was an impressive weapon. Seeing it reminded me:

“This- is yours. I thank you for letting me borrow it.” I pulled the shortsword from my belt and handed it to her. It was hers to begin with. “You’re welcome to travel with us.” I added, trying to offer a friendly smile even as she grimaced at me.

She eyed the weapon I held out to her, then stared at me.

“Keep it. Should your heart truly be as soft as it seems, you’ll be needing it all the more.” She remarked, refusing the blade. “But I could use whatever allies I can get. Come, the horned ones spoke of a camp nearby - someone they call “Zorru” has seen my kin.”

She quickly jumped into action, sprinting in the direction that the tieflings had wandered off towards once I had persuaded them to leave. I hoped we wouldn’t run into them again, lest they discover they’d been played for fools. I stowed the blade I could now call my own, and ran after her, beckoning the rest of the group to follow. It sounded like there was shouting up ahead…

“Keep it. Should your heart truly be as soft as it seems, you’ll be needing it all the more.” She remarked, refusing the blade. “But I could use whatever allies I can get. Come, the horned ones spoke of a camp nearby - someone they call “Zorru” has seen my kin.”
She quickly jumped into action, sprinting in the direction that the tieflings had wandered off towards once I had persuaded them to leave. I hoped we wouldn’t run into them again, lest they discover they’d been played for fools. I stowed the blade I could now call my own, and ran after her, beckoning the rest of the group to follow. It sounded like there was shouting up ahead…

Chapter 6: Within the Grove

Chapter Text

I heard a collective sigh as the swordsman with the fancy footwork slashed a finishing blow, felling the last of the goblin troupe. He certainly had a talent for battle, his form was impeccable. Although, the dramatic quips as he fought may have been a bit much. “Mess with the blade- and suffer its sting!” he had recited as he swished a rapier towards his foes. “The Blade”, hmm? I would have to find him and ask him where he learned such battle maneuvers, and where he acquired such an apt nickname.

The tieflings that stood on top of the gate shooting arrows stowed their weapons and began to raise the wooden gate to let in all those who fought off the invasion.

“Inside! Quickly! More may follow!” Called a male voice from atop the gate.

I couldn’t quite tell who it was coming from, but didn’t hesitate to lead the group into safety behind the large wooden gate. We dashed inside, and as soon as the gate slammed shut behind us, I was hit with a familiar feeling. A warm tingle, like the comfort of a beam of sunlight on the skin, but it’s effect reaching my core. It wasn’t just a stray sunbeam hitting me, it was something more.

“You COWARD!” I heard a yelling from up ahead.

I jogged toward a mature looking red Tiefling, making his outrage toward a younger human man who stood before him very apparent with his tone.

“Hey now, we just ended one fight. Must we really get into another?” I approached, trying to ease the tension between the two of them.

“Anything to say to the woman who saved your sorry tail out there?” The Tiefling remarked as I approached, the human turning to look at me with disdain in his eyes. His face was flushed with anger.

“I didn’t ask for any godsdamned help.” He muttered under his breath, teeth clenched and brows furrowed.

“You were BEGGING us to open the gate! And you let them take the druid! Unbelievable!” The Tiefling continued to rant at the human, who clearly was at his breaking point.

“Please, this is no time to be picking another fight. We need to band together if there is to be another threat.” I encouraged them to drop their grievances.

“Together? You won’t find me here a moment longer. Good luck, and good riddance.” The human said, clearly still seething. He stormed off without another word, beckoning a few other mercenaries with him.

As he and his band walked away, the Tiefling’s defensive stance shifted and his eyes were filled with gratitude.

“Aradin was never one to admit his own faults. But never mind him, It is you I have to thank for the defense of our grove here. Or- rather- the Druids’ Grove. We are merely “guests”. I’m Zevlor.” The Tiefling introduced himself politely.

“Druids’ Grove? Is there a healer amongst them?” I asked, reminded of our primary goal.

“Halsin was a most gifted healer, but it appears the goblins have him captive. You could ask his apprentice, Nettie, if she could help mend your battle wounds.” He explained. He gestured down a dirt path, suggesting she could be found deeper in the grove.

“But- be wary. The druids won’t be accepting outsiders for much longer. Myself and my own kin are to be thrown out any day now.” He explained, looking down as he spoke, ashamed and saddened by the reality.

“No outsiders? Why is that?” Gale piped up from behind me with curiosity.

“They say we are a danger, that we attract invaders- like those goblins you faced. Our fates don’t matter to them any longer, we are nothing but a pest to their leader, Kagha.”

“Sounds to me like we are in a position to bargain for you. After all, we did save the entire grove from a goblin raid.” Gale raised an eyebrow, turning to me pleased with himself. He sensed an opportunity.

“Chk!” Lae’zel remarked from behind, looking at Gale with disapproval “Use our blades to aid the weak? Those incapable of defending themselves? They are doomed to a future threat if we are to help them. Pointless.”

“These people…” Zevlor began, his voice softening and his eyes wet with sympathy. “They have been through a lot since the fall of Elturel. We didn’t bring much from home, but what we have we can offer in return for your help. We just need to buy some time.” he pleaded.

I didn’t see a need to take any more from these tieflings after they had so much stolen from them, but the promise of a reward did seem to make Lae’zel a little more inclined to assist.

“I will do what I can.” I said with a smile, Zevlor’s sad eyes glimmering with just the smallest hint of hope at my words.

With that promise I moved forward, beckoning the rest of the group further into the grove. The deeper into the grove I walked, the more the warming sensation was apparent. It was nice, calming even. I just wasn’t sure what was causing it.

We walked past many tieflings as we entered. There were several with tents set up, some of them cooking over campfires and others packing trunks with all their belongings. There were a few young tiefling children swinging daggers and shortswords at barrels and haystacks, getting pointers from the talented swordsman I had seen on the battlefield felling goblins.

“I wish to go find this… “Zorru” that I heard tell of. I will converse with these… “teeth-lings” until I speak to him.” Lae’zel said, pushing ahead of the group.

“It’s pronounced: Teef-lings, actually.” Gale piped up, pointing out her mis-pronunciation.

“Chk. I know not of the vocabulary of this plane. This… Fay-run. The Astral Plane teaches one to kill or be killed and little else.” Lae’zel glared at the wizard. I saw him gulp down his fear, trying with all his might not to correct her and tell her the plane’s name was pronounced “Fay-roon”. I interjected before he dug himself an early grave with his verbose tendencies.

“Of course, you are free to look for Zorru. Astarion mentioned he had found a great location for a camp nearby. Shall we meet you there at the day’s end?” I suggested to her.

She nodded in agreement and Astarion let her know the spot he had been eye-ing. It had water, level ground, and some berry bushes that were ripe around this time of year. It sounded promising. Lae’zel split from the rest of us when I heard a commotion nearby.

“Let me through, Mragreshem, or I’ll rip your damned throat out!” An angry female voice called from up ahead. I walked swiftly towards the woman’s yell to find her and a handful of other tieflings arguing with three people in druidic garb, embellished with leaves and dyed in earth tones. There was a male half elf, a female human and a male gnome standing firmly in place, preventing the tieflings from passing.

As I approached the tense face-off, the half-elf druid muttered something under his breath and moved his hands with intention. He was casting a spell. A green glow enveloped his form and I could sense his magic. It was fresh like morning dew on a springtime flower, or a breath of newly trimmed grass. In moments, his humanoid body had vanished and in its place was an intimidating and burly brown bear.

I had never seen such a transformation occur before my eyes like that. It was certainly a feat of magical talent, to be able to alter your physical form so dramatically.

Upon the brown bear letting out a roar and baring its fangs, the tieflings backed away from the defensive band of druids. As they walked away, I approached the druids with caution.

“Oi! There is to be no trespassing, this is sacred druidic ground.” The gnome snapped at me as I got closer.

“I’m looking to speak with Kagha? Do you know where I can find her?” I asked, trying to remain cordial.

“She is pre-occupied. Who is askin’ for her?” The human said, eyeing me up and down.
“I’m Tav. I defended the grove from the goblin attack just now.” I crossed my arms as I introduced myself. They were being pretty rude considering they very well might not be standing if it weren't for myself and my compatriots.

The gnome’s ears pricked up as I introduced myself. “Oh! Uh-” he said aloud, and motioned for the human to kneel so that he could whisper in her ear. She did so.

“Hm. As busy as the archdruid is, she did ask for an audience with you if you presented yourself. Go on, she is through that stone door there. But no funny business.” She said sternly, stepping aside and letting myself and my company pass through.

As my feet touched the lush green grass that covered this lower part of the grove, a nostalgic feeling overwhelmed me. I recalled standing in the woods of the High Forest, in awe as Francesca began to cast a spell with a golden ribbon of light coming from her fingertips. The earth felt so familiar to me as I stood upon it. I could feel my entire being ground itself to nature as I stood, a sensation I hadn’t felt since I lived in the High Forest. It nearly felt as if the ground itself recognized my presence.

Soft chanting echoed throughout the mossy colosseum that made up this part of the grove as several druids stood around in a ring and performed magic. In the center of the ring was an idol, of religious origin no doubt, the magic that flowed from the hands of the casters being channeled through it. Their hand movements were very deliberate and intentional, and the light coming from their cast was a bright green. It was strange, because the appearance of the spell was not unlike the glow that came from the half elf as he transformed into a bear. However, the sensation that it gave as I felt it in the air was distinctly different. As the spell was cast by the druids in unison, a metallic taste danced across my tongue and my hands felt numb and tingly as if they had just stroked the back of a porcupine. The leaden sensation gave me a slight headache.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked, placing a hand in the middle of my back as I nearly lost balance. “You look rather pale.”

It was a lot of feeling all at once, emotional and physical all flooding my senses.

I cleared my throat, feeling it catch as I was about to respond. “Yes, fine. Kagha is in there, right?” I pointed to a door covered in runes on the other side of the casting circle.

“Let’s go.” I waved the group forward, the stone door growling as it scraped open.

On the inside was a cave structure, lit only by the flame of torches placed around the space. There were several druids inside of elven or human descent, all observing a taller red-headed woman as she looked down at a young tiefling girl with disdain and disgust in her glare.

The angered hiss of a snake echoed throughout the chamber as I caught the slithering animal baring its fangs behind the trembling young tiefling.

“Please, I’m sorry!” She exclaimed, her voice high pitched and pleading as she trembled before the druid and the snake.

One of the older druids called out, waving his hands fervently as he spoke.

“This is madness, Kagha. She’s just a-”

“A what, Rath? A thief? A poison? A threat?” Kagha interrupted, her voice brimming with anger and malice.

“I will imprison the devil. And I will cast out every stranger.” She spat, glaring at the young trembling girl.

I glanced at the snake, certain its poison would be able to kill the small child in moments if it were to strike. It was acting at its master’s command - Kagha’s command.

“Imprison her? She’s just a child!” I heard Gale exclaim, gesturing towards the tiefling girl. His tone was outraged and frustrated.

Kagha looked at the lot of us with malice in her eyes.

“Child? You mean parasite. She eats our food, drinks our water, then steals our most holy idol in thanks! Rath, lock her up. She remains here until the Rite is complete.” She ordered the older druid who contested her beforehand.

“And keep still, devil. Teela is restless.” Kagha snapped her fingers and the snake hissed loudly, moving closer to the tiefling girl with its mouth open wide. The girl shrieked and shrunk away from the angered reptile.

I was surprised to see a druid with such an intent to end a child’s life should they disobey. It was in a child’s nature to misbehave, the punishment for such an intrinsic impulse shouldn’t be death.

“A young girl is no threat. Jailing her disrupts nature’s balance, she should be alongside her family.” I sneered at Kagha, looking at her with a challenge in my eyes.

Kagha looked up at me, suspiciously. I could tell she was considering my argument against jailing the little tiefling. Even if it wasn’t right- it didn’t stop her from wanting to do it anyway.
“I hear the Treefather’s spirit in your words.” She sighed.

“Ssifisiv.” Kagha’s tongue twisted as she locked eyes with her snake, uttering a command in the viper’s native tongue.

“Teela, to me.” She said as the snake obeyed without hesitation. Kagha looked back at the young tiefling still with disdain in her eyes and reluctance to set her free.

“Out, thief. My grace has its limits.” She snarled, waving the tiefling girl towards the stone door we had walked in through.

As the girl passed by, she looked up at me gratefully mouthing the words “Thank you.” in silence, before dashing past us to the outside.

“Thank you, Kagha. Master Halsin would-” The older druid who had encouraged Kagha to step down began to express his gratitude, but Kagha interrupted.

“Halsin isn’t here. Keep his name off your tongue- lest Teela pierce it.” Kagha snapped, the viper at her feet hissing threateningly.

The older druid stepped back, and neglected to speak on the matter any further. As Kagha was walking away, her snake trailing her, I stopped her.

“Kagha. You asked to see me?”

She scoffed. “You still wish to have an audience with me after that scene? Go on. Say it. You think I’m a monster.”

Her eyes seemed to challenge me. Her attitude was really starting to get on my nerves.
I met her challenging gaze. “Only a monster would threaten a child like that.” I retorted.
She practically rolled her eyes at my comment.

“I know your kind from other circles. You see only villains and victims. A viper bares her fangs defending her brood. I call her mother - you call her monster.” She spoke in a condescending tone as if all her words were fact.

“No matter, I took back the Idol of Silvanus and the rite has resumed. We will seal the grove, Free from harm and free from intruders.” She looked me up and down, as if I was unwelcome and my presence hadn’t just saved the entire grove.

It was my turn for the eye roll. Pushing past her holier-than-thou attitude, I pried further into the “rite” she spoke of.

“Is this rite druidic? I have never witnessed such magic.” I said, recalling the headache the casters had caused me as I stood outside. No magic had made me feel that… unsettled before.

“The Rite of Thorns. It is the Treefather’s gift, that none come to harm. When we speak the final prayer, the Great Vine will sprout forth. The grove will be cloaked in bramble and thorn. No one enters, no one leaves. Sanctuary.” She explained, her eyes full of promise. “None of this can happen while outlanders infect us. Silvanus demands that we choke them out.”

Her words were cruel and unforgiving. Choke them out? The refugees? They had been through so much already, to die at the hands of a bigoted druid would be a fate not representative of their sturdiness.

“Zevlor just needs more time. They want to get to Baldurs Gate- they don't want to stay here. But, with the goblins patrolling the area, they won’t make it in one piece.” I tried to explain, but I could tell my words went in one of Kagha’s pointed ears and out the other.

“We don’t have time.” She said sternly. “But you- you showed your battle prowess while defending this place. Why don’t you… escort them to their destination?” She nearly demanded rather than suggested this solution.

I would have been honored to do so, but my heart sank as I felt the tadpole swimming in my brain, sending a shiver down my spine. What happen if… if my companions and I were to transform while traveling with them? I pictured the abhorrent scenario: suddenly the lot of us would morph into mindflayers, the people they trusted to lead them to their new lives now aberrations feasting on their bodies and brains. I couldn’t let that happen, we had to find a way to get these parasites gone.

“I… I’m afraid I can’t do that.” I said, solemnity in my words.

“Well- we have reached an impasse.” Kagha didn’t budge in her position against the tieflings. I didn’t know how else to fix this other than to get these damned worms out, Zevlor did mention a healer.

“Is there a healer around? I believe her name is Nettie?” I asked Kagha, changing the subject.

“Nettie is back there, in the infirmary. Be quick, the rite is underway, you cannot stay long.” Kagha pointed to another cavernous space in the corner where I could see a short dwarven figure moving hastily back and forth.

I nodded in thanks and headed over. As we walked away, Gale nudged me, keeping his voice low as he spoke.

“That woman has more venom in her heart than a snake in its fangs!” He said with exasperation. I couldn’t have agreed more.

“At least the child is safe. What is youth if not a time to be forgiven for one’s transgressions?” He asked rhetorically.

I smiled to myself, thinking what kind of trouble he got into as a young magic user.
“Sounds like you have something to confess.” I remarked slyly, shooting him an expectant look.

He laughed. “ Ha! And you don’t? You’re wholly without vice or sin, or the occasional lapse in judgement? That can’t be - you don’t strike me as quite that boring.” He smirked. I could tell he had plenty of stories from when he was as rambunctious as the tiefling, and given time I’m sure I could recall plenty of my own as well.

“I see you, give me just a moment!” Called the dwarven woman as we walked through the threshold of the infirmary. She wore a crown of leaves on her head, indicative of her healing capabilities. She was currently preoccupied with the treatment of a young, injured blue jay who sat on a stone table in front of her. I waited patiently as she tended to the creature, chanting an incantation as a teal light escaped her fingertips. The bird chirped cheerfully.

“There. It’s up to her now, life or death.” Nettie said, happy with the improved condition of the fragile animal.

“Now, what was it you needed?” She asked, turning towards myself and my companions.

“We- I’ve - been searching for a healer.” I said. I figured I should present myself as the test subject.

Nettie looked at me, squinting her eyes as if to scrutinize my condition. “Lean a little closer? Let me have a look at you.”

I obliged and leaned toward her, kneeling slightly to get closer to her eye level.
“You seem healthy enough- a bit tired around the eyes maybe?” She said, examining me closely.

I had to stifle a smile when she mentioned my eyes. Yes… those technically were the issue I suppose…

“Hmm. Well- I suppose there’s no easy way of saying this, but I did have a tadpole inserted into those tired eyes.” I admitted, holding my breath after I said so in anticipation. I didn’t know how she might react to that fun tidbit.

“A tadpole? A mind flayer tadpole?” She said, her voice lined with shock and fear.

“Are you… familiar with them? I just want it out.” I explained, trying not to sound too desperate. But I was. We all were.

“I- I’ll do what I can. Follow me, I might have a solution in the next room.” Nettie sounded shaken, and unsure, but she offered a potential solution- so I followed her as she went to the back of the infirmary.

With a wave of her hand the back wall shimmered with a blue light and an opening presented itself. Behind the wall was another examination room with stone tables and a bookshelf of what appeared to be research notes and books on anatomy and first aid.

Nettie shuffled inside, grimacing at the cadaver that was on a nearby table.

“This one had the same problem as you. He attacked us while we were in the woods. After he fell, a tadpole crawled out of his head” She gestured to the body of a drow, splayed out on the table with minimal clothing. She then preoccupied herself shifting through bottles and herbs.
“He and I had the same kind of parasite? I didn’t think this was a common experience.” I said, slightly surprised. Then again, myself and my companions were all on that ship together - and that was only one of what must be many nautiloids.

She turned back to me, a plant in her hand.

“They’re rather too common as of late. At least that’s what master Halsin suspected. A pity you got me instead of him, He understands these things - studied them. Still- we have options.” She said, raising the plant in her hand.

“Thank you. I’ll take anything if you think it will help.” I said, optimistic at the idea she may have a solution to all this.

“Of course. Now, can you tell me a bit more about what’s been happening? Any symptoms or strange events?” She asked.

I thought back to the hideous feeling of the worm squirming in my head when I had met Lae’zel on the ship.

I can recognize anyone else who is infected, our brains seem to… communicate.” I tried to explain the sensation the best I could to Nettie. It was a strange feeling to try to convey.

“Victims can identify each other? Curious. How did you pick up the parasite in the first place? Halsin was desperate to find out where they were all coming from.” Nettie asked, prying further into the origins of my predicament.

“I was abducted onto a mind flayer ship, that's where they performed the procedure.” I shuddered recalling it.

“A mind flayer ship?” Surprise was evident in Nettie’s voice. “But Master Halsin was sure…” She spoke softer, as if the statement was intended for herself but her own shock had let it slip. She took a deep breath.

“Look- you’ve been straight with me, so I’ll be straight with you. You are dangerous. If you transform here, the entire grove is dead. But you seem like a good soul- so I can give you a chance to save yourself.” She took out a vial from a leather hide pouch on her hip and held it out to me.

“This is a vial of Wyvern Poison. Swear to me you will swallow it if you feel any symptoms.” She said sternly, holding eye contact with me as she spoke.

“Poison?” I asked, confused. “I thought you could heal me?”

“The thorn?” She asked, holding up the plant once more. Her face shifted to one of shame and guilt. “It’s coated in a fatal toxin. It was a last resort… You never know who you can trust these days.” She tried to justify her actions, but she knew deep down that her mentor wouldn’t have approved of such a grave solution.

“I don’t have a cure… only a way out.” She said, her eyes somber and apologetic. “Now, I will tell you everything I know about these things as soon as you give me your word you will take this vial and use it if necessary.” She held up the vial again, the unnaturally green liquid reflecting in the dim torchlight.

I blinked back the fear that gathered in my throat. “I swear.” I forced myself to agree, and took the bottle from her outstretched palm. Gods, I didn’t want to die. But I suppose a final draught is better than ceremorphosis. “It is to be avoided.” Gale’s stern words echoed in my mind.

“I pray to Silvanus that it doesn't come to that- but thank you.” A wave of relief was evident on Nettie’s face.

“I’ve spent my life treating folk and never once saw a mind flayer infection. Now, suddenly, there’s dozens of you- maybe more. Master Halsin and I were tracking them, studying them. We were trying to figure out what the hells was going on.” Nettie began to tell all. “You should all be changing! There should be an army of mind flayers crawling around these woods, but weird powers aside, you seem perfectly normal.”

“What else have you found out about these things during your research?” I asked. My companions were dead quiet, all listening to the information Nettie had gathered. Little did she know we were all afflicted.

“For one, that thing in your head is like nothing we have ever seen from mind flayers. It’s definitely one of their worms- but this one gives you powers- telepathic connections and doesn’t turn you into one of them. Not yet, anyhow.” My heart sank at the lack of optimism in her tone.

“So… you think it’s only a matter of time, then?” I clarified, knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.

“Could be. But there’s still a lot we don’t know. Folks afflicted with the tadpoles have been converging on an old temple of Selune-and I’ve no idea why.” She explained. “When Master Halsin heard Aradin and his lot were heading that way, he saw a chance to get answers and joined them on the spot. But… he didn’t make it back.”

She was upset, obviously caring for Halsin quite a lot. He was her mentor, her research partner. I could tell they had been through a lot together.

“Is he alive? Maybe I could… look for him?” I said, trying to offer what bit of optimism I could. If Halsin could help us - of course we would want to find him. He sounded like a wealth of knowledge.

“I think he is alive. I hope he is. I have sent birds to find him but they can’t get close with those damned goblins trying to shoot them down. But you’re one of them. Technically speaking, I mean. They won’t kill someone carrying their own parasite.” Nettie’s eyes were alight with hope at the idea of Halsin returning. “He could save your life.” She added, as if to say ‘Pretty please?’

“Alright. I’ll find him.” I said, with a confidence in my voice that even surprised myself.
“Thank you. It would mean everything to the grove. To me.” Her voice was hopeful and desperate at the same time. Halsin was our only hope, now.

Nettie was kind enough to offer some health potions for our journey, and we headed out of the inner sanctum of the grove and back towards the gate where the goblins had raided. As we were walking through, past the tents of the Tiefling refugees, Gale tugged at my sleeve.

I turned towards him, surprised to see his face twisted with anger- he looked like he had been meaning to say something but had held it in this long.

“I frankly, can’t believe we are helping that healer. She nearly poisoned you! She could have put you down like a dying dog- without so much as a whisper of consent!” He spoke quickly, exasperation and frustration in every syllable.

“But she didn’t, Gale. She thought it would have been the right thing to do.” I tried to defend her- she did spare us after all.

“Right?! She had no right!” Gale exclaimed, his anger evident. He was gathering some strange looks from the passing tieflings.

“Gale, there’s really no harm done. I’m fine.” I spoke in quiet tones, trying to calm him from his escalated emotional state.

His voice was still loud, laced with frustration, but quieted as he continued. “I know! I know you are - and yet, a few moments more, a few different words spoken… and had it been me… Had it been…” As Gale spoke I watched his skin grow pale.

His breath quickened and he couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. His gaze was disconnected and lost for a split second before he looked at me directly. He was scared of something.

“Gale are you alright?” I was concerned by the rapid pace at which his state became altered.

“Could we… take a break? I just need…” His voice was strained, sweat beading on his brow. He looked like he was going to be sick. “Just a few moments of rest.” He pleaded.

I grabbed one of his arms, trying to keep him balanced as he swayed with illness. I turned to Shadowheart and Astarion, who looked on in surprise.

“Please, both of you feel free to check the merchants for any supplies we may need. There’s a druid to be found.” I dug some gold from my pocket and handed it to each of them.

“Of course, We’ll be back later.” Shadowheart nodded before heading off. She shot a suspicious glance at Gale before leaving, dragging Astarion behind her.

“Look, don’t touch.” Astarion snapped at Shadowheart, swatting her hand away after she had grabbed him by the arm. They were a handful.

I guided Gale to a nearby rock where he could sit and catch his breath. A few oxen were grazing beside us, their warm, brown eyes were glossy with innocence. Their presence was comforting.

Gale took a moment to regain his composure, straightening his spine and looking at me, a serious tone in his voice and fear in his eyes. “I need to talk to you about something… well something rather important.” He began.

“You’ve demonstrated remarkable guile and courage while we have traveled together. The way you diffused the tension between Zevlor and Aradin. The way you got Kagha to release the girl. In short: I’ve grown to trust you a great deal.” Gale’s tendency to be long-winded didn’t cease even when he was short of breath it seemed.

“Thank you, Gale. That’s very gratifying to hear.” I said, very flattered by his compliment but still unsure where he was going with this… We had only met yesterday.

“The reason I make a point of saying this is that I’ve grown confident enough to tell you something that I’ve yet to tell another living soul. Well- except for my cat.” His voice caught before he began to explain further.

In the split second it took for him to continue, my mind raced with fear and concern. What could he possibly be hiding? The idea he hadn’t come forward with it beforehand stung a little, in all honesty.

“You see, I have this… condition. It’s very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly.” He explained, a hint of shame in his voice.

“Could I… help you in treatment?” I asked, concerned for his health. I had just seen his well-being deteriorate and recover in a very short amount of time and I was worried for him.

“Thank you for the offer, but the treatment for my condition is rather specific. But suffice it to say that it is a malady that I have learned to live with - though not without some effort. What it comes down to is this: every so often I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item- and absorb the Weave inside.” He explained. Out of all the possibilities that whirled around in my head when he began the conversation, this was not one I had imagined.

“What kind of items, exactly?” I asked, wondering how best to address this “need for Weave”.

“The form doesn’t matter. It could be a Staff, a Tome, a Cowl, so long as it’s brimming with Weave. It’s been days since I last consumed an artifact- since before we were abducted. It’s only a matter of time before my craving returns.” Gale elaborated. “That is why I turn to you. I need you to help me find magic items to consume. It is vital- Dare I say it- critical.”

My mind raced. He needed magic items? I wasn’t even sure where we were right now let alone where we could find the specific artifacts he needed. But at this point, I didn’t think we had much of a choice.

“Of course I’ll help, Gale. Whatever you need - we will find it.” I tried to reassure him. I saw the fear in his eyes slip away, replaced with gratitude and relief.

“If it’s any comfort, I’m sure we won’t have to look very far to find what I need: Faerun overflows with magic-infused treasure. But I hope I can count on you - thank you.” Gale said with an exhale, releasing the tension from his body all at once.

I smiled at him, glad to see the color return to his skin as he stood from the stone where we had been resting. A nervous tightening panged in my stomach. I hoped he could count on me, too.

It wasn’t long before Astarion and Shadowheart had returned, with a few new potions and weapons in hand. They looked prepared for the next battle ahead.

Gale piped up cheerfully, now full of vigor and his usual wit: “Why don’t we find that chap Halsin that little miss “Poison Ivy” mentioned? With a bit of luck maybe he has the means to offer a cure rather than a coffin.”

I let out a soft chuckle, and off we went. My thoughts wandered to Gale’s condition, the origin of which I was curious to know. I had never heard of a need to consume the enchantments of items, but the ailment seemed to affect Gale quite significantly. I found myself hoping I could help him, and hoping I could prove trustworthy enough that he might confide in me how exactly he came to find himself in such a situation.

As the three of us were making our way past the tiefling refugees, a familiar voice called out.

“You, there! The protectors of the grove!” a male voice shouted. I whipped my head around to see the young man I saw earlier, felling goblins with flair.

“I wanted to take the opportunity to introduce myself before you left!” he called out, running over to us as we stopped in our tracks. His voice was proud but his tone was polite and kind as he addressed us.

“I, as well as the rest of the grove, appreciate what you did for us when the goblins attacked. My name is Wyll.” He said, outstretching his palm for a handshake.

I was about to raise my hand to reciprocate his proper introduction, when a familiar itch began in my temple, and I felt a squirming in my skull. I winced, shutting my eyes tight as if it might offer some relief from the hideous sensation, but to no avail.

Suddenly, my thoughts were flooded with memories that were not my own. I recognized them as belonging to Wyll. I momentarily gained his familiarity with a rapier, his skill for defeating various monsters and memorizing their weaknesses. “The Blade of Frontiers” the title echoed in his mind and spilled over into my own. A vision of him racing through the depths of Avernus, speeding towards a diabolical figure with red skin and a single curled horn. Her whole body was ablaze with flame as she held a bloodied greataxe above her, poised to strike at the enemies that flanked her on either side. It was a vivid memory, but I was suddenly yanked out of it as Wyll fought to regain control of his social butterfly of a parasite. We had found yet another victim of the Mind Flayers’ vile plot.

“Hell’s great fires. You were on the ship.” he gasped, his eyes widening. As he looked at me in surprise, I noticed the distinctly unnatural gray color of his right pupil. It was a stark contrast to the rich dark brown of his left eye.

Before I could manage a response, I felt our tadpoles connect once again, our minds intertwining despite any protest either of us might have had. Once again I was presented with a vision of the red-skinned warrior, her entire being ignited with rancor. She is an infernal wardevil - a threat to the living. Evil incarnate.

“sh*t!” Wyll exclaimed, reeling back his tadpole and cursing it’s inability to withhold itself. “... you saw her. Advocatus Diaboli.”

“Devil’s Advocate…” Gale said softly, almost in a whisper as he translated the term. I couldn’t tell if he was mumbling the term to himself or translating for the group, but nonetheless I was glad I heard him.

Wyll sighed, no longer seeing the point in remaining quiet about the secrets his tadpole so willingly surrendered.

“Her name is Karlach - an archdevil soldier I swore on my good eye to kill. I tracked her through the hells to the mind flayer ship, but those damned illithids infected me before I could get to her. She’s out there now - preying on the innocent. I don’t kill her - she’ll leave behind nothing but a trail of corpses.” He explained, his tone dead serious and his intention crystal clear. He meant to end this threat at any cost.

“Well, seeing as though you are infected like the lot of us, what say you to traveling together for the time being?” Shadowheart asked him, extending a proverbial hand in friendship. It seemed a little out of character for her, but I didn’t protest. Having someone as skilled in combat as him fighting with us rather than against us was preferable to say the least.

He squinted in suspicion at Shadowheart and the rest of the group, weighing the options set before him.

“Well- I’m oathbound to go after Karlach. She is my first priority. But… it’s an unfortunate truth that this parasite is proving bothersome. I suppose misery loves company.” Wyll said after some consideration, shaking Shadowheart’s hand with a smile.

“Happy to have you aboard, Blade of Frontiers!” Gale said excitedly, reaching out a friendly hand so that he might introduce himself next.

Wyll laughed lightly. “My reputation precedes me, it seems.”

“Why, it is an honor to travel with the fighter so renowned for defending the lives of the innocent. A pleasure to meet you.” Gale said formally. It appeared Wyll was a household name, or at least, his other name was.

“However did you decide upon that name?” Astarion asked, finally showing a bit of interest in our newest companion.

Wyll grinned and took in a breath, preparing to tell the story he had likely told a thousand times before, enthralling us as we all made our way to seek out the missing druid together.

Chapter 7: Rescuing the Druid

Chapter Text

I recoiled as the Worg’s pungent breath assaulted my face, saliva dripping from its open maw. It took the opportunity to attack as I turned my head from its grotesque scent, charging at me and knocking me to the ground. It loomed over my body as I hit the cold stone flooring of the prison, snarling at me aggressively and using its massive form to pin me to the ground.

“Free now. You are… snack.” The worg’s deep growl of a voice echoed in my head, startling me. First the bear speaks to me, now the worg? My eyes widened as it raised a clawed limb, primed to slash at my chest and tear open my vital organs.

“Dis Tonitru!” A voice boomed from another side of the room. Suddenly, the Worg was a blur of matted fur that flew across the room, leaving me free to stand on my own two feet once again. As I looked to see the source of the spell, I wasn’t surprised to see Gale, his chest heaving as he held his hands out in front of him. Corpses of felled goblins littered the ground on that side of the room, Shadowheart and Astarion standing over them with their weapons coated in blood.

The Worg was the last enemy standing. I refocused my attention to the beast as it stumbled back to its feet, limping on one leg from the damage done by Gale’s thunderwave. The cast had thrown it into a table and chairs that collapsed under its weight, the wood splintering and impaling a hind leg.

I paused for a moment to assess it’s weaknesses as it moved toward me, gripping my shortsword with white knuckles as I prepared my muscles for a swinging, striking motion. I grimaced as the wounded animal struggled to stand- It deserved a better fate, but the fact that it nearly killed me couldn’t be changed. It threatened our lives as it lived, so we had no choice but to kill it.

I felt a whoosh of air past my pointed ear as an arrow whipped by me. The projectile struck the hind of the worg with a thunk. It yelped, and with two hind legs unable to bear weight, it collapsed onto the ground, now soaking with blood. It was still breathing, wheezing as it inhaled, but its eyes glared with a malice and a bloodthirst that was undeniable. It held no remorse for its actions, or the actions of the goblins that retained it.

I approached the collapsed animal with my sword in hand, closing my eyes as I drove the blade into its chest in one swift motion. It’s wheezing slowed to a stop, and I exhaled, not even realizing I had been holding my breath.

The rest of the party caught their breath too, Shadowheart and Gale looking particularly relieved that the battle was over and had been won. Astarion knelt at the gate of the prison cell, his fingers deftly picking at the lock. The bear that was trapped inside the cell grunted in thanks as Astarion dutifully worked on the door.

“Remind me again why we trust this bear not to attack us like the Worgs did?” Astarion said, hesitating as he continued to rifle through the lock with his set of picks.

“Well, we did prevent any more stones from being thrown at it. And it… well it told me it wouldn’t hurt us if we helped.” I explained, hardly believing my own words. That was the first time I had ever… understood an animal. It was as if the bear had whispered in my ear, their message was so clear.

“Hm, of course. What a very normal thing for a bear to say. And for you to understand his ursine language… what a treat.” Astarion said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He was suspicious of me.

I felt embarrassment creep up my face. I hadn’t been making up stories like a child! The bear really did communicate with me, but I was the only one who seemed to have heard it’s voice. A deep, gravelly voice it had, too. Before I could defend myself, the lock on the prison door clicked, and the gate opened. Astarion had to dodge out of the way as the heavy iron bars swung towards him. I could see the ears of the bear inside prick up as it heard the lock break. It excitedly barrelled out of it’s confinement as the door opened, beelining towards me. I could see it’s golden eyes look into mine as its massive form stood nearly matching my height. It has stopped at my feet to look right at me. I expected it to speak to me again, but there was silence for a moment. My companions all looked on at the face-off, unsure what to make of it.

Suddenly, a bright green light surrounded the brown bear. The scent of fresh spring grasses and greenery filled the air, masking the metallic scent of blood and the stink of goblins. Before I could even realize what was happening, the bear’s towering form dissolved, leaving in its wake an equally sizable elven druid.

The look on my face must have given away my surprise at the transformation as the elf stood before me. Although, considering I was able to understand its language, it made more sense now that it was an elf in disguise than a wild grizzly. The muscled man that stood before us wore druidic armor, bearing the symbol of Silvanus across his broad chest and leafy pauldrons on his sturdy shoulders. The leather that made up his armor was etched with details of vines and branches. Such elaborate leatherwork translated that he was of rather great importance to his circle.

He cleared his throat, his deep voice thrummed like a drum beat in the echo-ey chamber. He looked down to the goblin corpses that surrounded him, crinkling his nose.

“Pardon the viscera. One should cherish all of Nature’s bounty but goblin guts are far, far down the list.” The druid dusted himself off before looking at me with gratitude in his gaze. “You aided a bear without knowing if it would savage you!” He smiled, laughing whole-heartedly. “A true friend of nature! Or- perhaps a lunatic. Either way, I owe you all my thanks. I am the druid, Halsin.” He introduced himself, placing a hand over his chest formally.

Any nerves I had in his presence settled when he spoke his name. This was the renowned healer that Nettie spoke so highly of.

“The archdruid, Halsin?” I asked, just to be sure.

He laughed again, a resounding joy in the tone of his voice as he did so. It was an infectious sound, warm and inviting like a steaming cup of tea.

“Yes- but just Halsin will suffice. Unbecoming to demand honorifics from the one who saved my hide.” Before I could manage to introduce myself or my companions, He squinted at me quizzically.

“That look in your eyes… I’ve seen it before. Are you feeling alright?” He asked, holding his hand out. His palm glowed with a yellow light, and as it grew in intensity I could feel its warmth like a ray of sunshine. I could taste the faintest flavor of cinnamon and clove grace my tongue as he pointed his palm towards me and closed his eyes to focus on the spell. I winced and closed my eyes, the bright light of the magic he had cast too harsh to look at directly.

Halsin’s body bristled in surprise, his eyes shooting open as the magic in his hands ceased glowing. He looked at me with a fear and a sympathy in his gaze that unsettled me.

“Oak Father preserve you, child. You’re infected, aren’t you? The mind flayer’s spawn… but something’s different. You’re aware of the monster inside you- you don’t bow to the Absolute like the “True Souls” do. How is this possible?” He asked, his astonishment almost leaving him out of breath.

“I suppose we’ve just had good fortune.” Astarion chirped in a mildly sarcastic manner. We had been lucky in some sense, but in others we’ve been rather devoid of Tymora’s grace.

Halsin let out a chuckle. “Perhaps… but I wouldn’t want to place all my faith in blind luck. It’s no coincidence that you found me here I’ll wager? You’re after a cure for this parasite. I’ve been studying these parasites for a while now. Ever since I discovered these so called “True Souls” are infected with them. Someone is using very powerful magic to modify these tadpoles. They are using them to exert control over the infected. I’m sorry to say… I can’t undo that magic- which means I can’t cure you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

“So you aren’t able to… extract them?” Gale asked from behind me.

“Unfortunately, there seems to be no way to remove the parasites without triggering ceremorphosis. Any attempt risks turning the victim into a mindflayer…” Halsin replied, obviously upset he had little else to offer but bad news on that front. “However, while I didn’t find what I came here for - a way to remove the tadpoles- I did find the next best thing. I found out where they come from. That must be where these enchantments are placed on them and it’s where you’ll find your cure.”

“Well, where are we headed next, then?” Shadowheart asked, eager to learn of out next destination.

“I overheard that the cultists are sending all their captives to Moonrise Towers. Innocents go in, True Souls come out. Given that all of these True Souls are infected, it has to be the source for this magic.”

“Well, you seem to be the closest we’ve come to an expert on this. Would you… be able to accompany us to Moonrise?” I asked him, still processing the plethora of information he provided us.

Halsin grimaced. “I wish I could- but there’s still work I’ve yet to finish. Blood I’ve yet to spill.” His golden eyes darkened as he looked toward the door to the prison. Beyond it stood dozens more goblins infected and with the will to serve the Absolute cult.

“I’ve no right to ask more of you, but if you could help me, I’d be free to join your journey to Moonrise. I cannot allow these butchers to threaten my grove. The natural order must be protected.” He continued, assessing us as to estimate how we’d handle ourselves against such a threat. We had proven capable enough to handle the prison guards- but past that door were much more formidable foes, not to mention a greater number of them.

Astarion twirled a dagger with the tips of his fingers expertly as he looked up at Halsin. “I suppose we could slice up a few more goblins… sounds rather fun, actually.” He said greedily.

I looked to Gale and Shadowheart, who seemed a bit more hesitant.

“Is the only solution really violence? Goblins don’t come by the handfuls- they come by the hundreds. To make an enemy of one is to make an enemy of all.” Gale’s voice was unsure of our next steps.

I took a moment to consider the options. We could go to the towers without Halsin, but we would also be leaving the entire druids grove open to the threat of the goblin camp. Not to mention- we would be absent of Halsin’s directions to the tower, and his extensive knowledge on mind flayer parasites. He was particularly formidable himself, especially for an elf, but to fight all of the camp on his own would be perilous, even if he were to assume his bear form.

“We will help you, Halsin.” I said, my mind made up.

His golden eyes regained their brightness at my words, warm like sunlight. “My thanks. If you prevail, I’ll owe you the debt of a lifetime. Rare is the beast that survives decapitation- help me eliminate the drow Minthara, the hobgoblin Dror Ragzlin, and that perversion of a priestess, Gut. They are the ones holding these parasites together. Remove them and nature will cure itself.” He said, disgust evident on his face as he spoke the leaders names. I recognized them, however. As we snuck into the camp and posed as cult members, they were the three names on everyone’s tongues. The ones to go to for leadership, for instruction, and for purpose. They most certainly held power in their standing if not physically. But I had a feeling they had both.

“Will you be joining us?” Shadowheart asked Halsin, and in the way her tone of voice turned upwards in her question, she had almost sounded… flirtatious.

“If you’ll have me, I’d be happy to lend a hand- or better yet- a claw.” He said with a sly grin. I raised an eyebrow and nodded, eager to have such a powerful ally beside us.

“May Silvanus guide us!” He called, pressing a closed hand over his heart. In moments, a familiar green glow surrounded him as a cave bear with his same golden eyes took his place before us.

“GODS, Spare me!” Gale cried in pain, his voice echoing as he suddenly clutched his chest in agony. He hunched over, stumbling as he tried to make his way towards me but his legs refused to carry him. I rushed to his side, offering a shoulder for him to lean on in order to stand straight.

“By Mystra’s mantle, it came on fast. I hadn’t suspected it would…” He began, too distracted by the pain to finish his thought. He was short of breath, his face slick with sweat as if he had caught a deadly fever in a matter of seconds.

“What’s happening? Are you alright, Gale?” Shadowheart asked as she and Astarion looked on in horror and confusion.

I shook my head, understanding this was the ailment that Gale told me about when we had left Nettie. There wasn’t enough time to explain, but I knew what had to be done.

“Astarion, have you got that… ring from the co*cky goblin in the courtyard? The one who told you to kiss his feet?” I asked him, frantically trying to recall the item in question.

“Hm? Wh- yes. I do. I killed him in front of his colleagues to prove a point and took the ring as a trophy.” He said proudly, rubbing the gold band on his hand.

“Please. Give it to me.” I begged, neglecting to explain why. He furrowed his brow, looking appalled that I would demand such a thing from him. He looked like he was about to decline when I shot him a look of pure desperation. He rolled his eyes and caved. He slid the ring from his finger and placed it in my open palm with a grimace.

I proceeded to give it to Gale, who was able to take a deep breath in and steady himself as soon as he held it in his grasp. The swirling mark that climbed up his neck began to glow a vibrant purple. A faint bitterness scurried across my taste buds as he took the ring and pressed it to his heart. As the artifact brushed against his skin, the faint glowing grew into a bright flash, the light originating from the center of his chest beneath his robe. I instinctively reached out towards the origin of the light, pulling down the tunic he wore beneath his mantle and revealing an extension of the marks that trickled down from his eye and past his jaw. There in the center of his chest was a tattoo of a circle, enveloped in wispy, smoky lines that were strewn out in all directions.

Gale managed to regain his composure after consuming the weave from the ring, quickly tugging back on the tunic I had shifted out of the way and looking at me sternly. I drew my hand back from his chest, my stomach sinking with the feeling I had been scolded like a child who had misbehaved. I had crossed a boundary unintentionally.

“Wha- my ring!” Astarion exclaimed, watching as the band dissolved into the air between Gale’s fingers. “You best have a good explanation for this.” He snapped.

Gale caught his breath and proceeded to recount exactly what he had shared with me at the grove earlier, adding no further detail than he had before. The majority of what concerned his ailment was still held close to his chest, apparently both figuratively and literally. The way the mark on his upper body pulsed with light meant it certainly had something to do with his condition, but how it was related I wasn’t sure. Nobody else among the group had seen it aside from me, amidst all the fuss.

Looking at the marking, I was reminded of the magic tattoos I would often see soldiers at the Academy enroll with. They appeared like normal works of art etched into the skin, but with the right incantation, they were able to unleash the magic of an entire spell that was fused into the ink. It was a useful asset for a non-magic user to have if they were able to control it - allowing a unique edge in battle. For a long time, I considered getting one myself in order to fool my parents that I had finally been able spellcast. However, while looking further into it I learned they weren’t distributed in a “legal” manner, most of them applied in the more unsavory parts of Faerun by individuals whose identities remained secret. That was enough to deter me from investigating the possibility any further.

“Well, a shame we have to lose such valuable artifacts. They could prove useful in our hands against such threats as these.” Shadowheart remarked, gesturing around us to the goblin infested temple.

“I assure you-” Gale started. “Having a wizard in good health amongst you is a far greater asset than any trinket we may come across. I appreciate your sacrifices and will strive to be a valuable magical artifact in my own right.”

Astarion crossed his arms, still longing for the gold band he had earned so flagrantly in battle.

“I will get you another enchanted ring, Astarion. The first one I find will be yours.” I promised him in an attempt to sate his needs. He huffed.

“Fine. But next time you ask me for something, I expect you to borrow it, not consume it!” He said, still aggravated at the loss.

Halsin, still in his bear form, wasn’t able to contribute much to the situation other than look on in curiosity and bewilderment. He called out in an urgent growl, encouraging us to get a move on and strike at the goblins that were just beyond the walls of the prison.

“The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.” I said, drawing my weapon from my back. My companions followed, all of them standing tall now- weapons in hand and magic at the ready. This was going to take a while...

Chapter 8: The Rogue's Secret

Chapter Text

The battles were hard fought, leaving us sweaty and exhausted. I could see the light dim from Gale’s eyes as his magic fizzled from his palms. That last spell he cast had really drained him. The five of us looked on at the drow we had just felled in battle, her brow still furrowed with anger, even in death. I shuddered, recalling the cold hand of her tadpole as it caressed my brain upon meeting her. Her voice echoed in my mind, as icy as the grip of death:

“I know you have what I seek, Darthirr. Reveal it to me, lest I extract it from your very cerebrum myself.” She had threatened.

Her intentions were as dark as a Sharran temple, her innermost evil thoughts spilled into my brain when her tadpole took hold of it. She caught wind of my anxieties and could sense I was aware of the artifact’s location… and of the grove’s location. For a moment she had in her chilled fingers the solution to the puzzle she had been dancing around the entire time… until Halsin’s claws rained down on her backside. It was a relief we had been able to defeat her, as her shouts garnered attention from adjacent rooms full of devout goblin cultists. To say it was a challenge was an understatement- but it was over.

We looked around, surveying the crumbling temple to see if we had missed any particularly sneaky enemies in our wake of destruction. It was eerily quiet now, only the crackling of torches and bonfires echoed within the temple walls. No rowdy whoops or hollers from any goblin gangs.

I smelled fresh clover and dandelions as Halsin’s cave bear form glowed with a green light that illuminated us all. His elven form stood tall beside us in a matter of moments, bearing a grin as wide as the Chionthar.

“We did it! We actually did it. The leaders dead. Praise Silvanus.” he said, gasping for breath as he acclimated to his new form. “No- that’s not right- praise you, my friend. The grove owes you a debt beyond measure. Killing’s never my first choice, but those three were too dangerous to leave alive.”

“Can I count on your help now, Halsin?” I asked, optimistic at the thought of him joining our band now that I had seen his proficient combat skills.

“You can. And you will receive it soon enough. Return to the grove, I will make my own way there. I need to see to some matters within and then we can discuss what comes next amidst more… bucolic surroundings than here.” He said with a grin.

I nodded, agreeing to meet him back at the grove. But first- the lot of us could really use a rest. The sun was hanging low in the sky, now. The cracks in the ceiling of the temple let the golden light come through, evidence of the significant time we had spent felling the troops of goblins.

“I will expect you in the morning. And- thank you, again.” Halsin said, seeing the sleepiness take over my body. I gave him a smile, trying hard to keep my eyelids from drooping.

In a flash, Halsin once again cast Wild Shape- this time to assume the small and speedy form of a rat to make his escape unassuming. It was quite a clever getaway plan.

“Alright fearless leader, before you topple over, let's get back to camp.” Shadowheart said, rushing to my side. She took initiative to ensure my unstable footsteps were making proper footfalls as we found an escape from the temple and avoided the rowdy, drunken goblins in the courtyard. It wouldn’t be long before they all fell to the poison that Astarion had snuck into their basin of grog.

Upon reaching the campground, I yearned for nothing more than my own bedroll. Gale had enough energy within him to roast sausage links over the open fire for the camp. As he handed them out to everyone, I accepted the food in a daze, not quite sure of my own hunger. I sat on a log by the campfire, staring into the flame in a haze as I focused on chewing my food thoroughly to avoid choking. I was truly struggling to stay awake.

“Ah! My good fellow!” A far too enthusiastic voice boomed as the familiar visage of Volo plopped himself on the log beside me. He too, snacked on a roasted sausage courtesy of Gale. I had almost forgotten I had given him directions to our camp after I managed to unlock the cage the goblins had him cooped up in. I was glad Lae’zel neglected to slice him to ribbons upon his arrival- I hadn’t told her to expect company.

“Quite the cosy set-up you have here. I’ll make myself comfortable- thank you so much.” He said gratefully, forgetting his manners as he spoke while chewing. He swallowed before continuing, opening up a book filled with scribbles and sketches of his own making.

“I was just settling in and reviewing my latest findings - Mind flayers, cultists, and of course - your esteemed company!” He said, pointing to his crude sketches of tentacled monsters and toothy illithid larvae.

“What do you know of mind flayers?” Lae’zel’s voice came from somewhere nearby, suspicious of the legitimacy of Volo’s studies. Considering the tall tales he had made of our encounter with the goblins at the grove- she had every right to suspect him of falsifying his research.

“Why, I’m practically an expert. They’ve tentacles, you know. Quite shocking. The druid Halsin had some kind of mind flayer specimen in a jar in his quarters. A replica- no doubt, but truly fascinating to see up close.” Volo continued, brimming with the confidence of an established scholar.

I couldn’t hold back my scoff at his assumption that Halsin’s specimen was a replica. Even in my sleepy stupor, I was tempted to pick Volo’s brain about how much he really knew of illithids, considering we had all fought them face to face and been infected.

“Do you know much about their parasites, Volo?” I managed to ask without slurring my words.

“As a matter of fact, I do. But why do you?” He asked, looking at me confused, taking another bite of his sausage.

I laughed at his question. “I’ve got one of their larvae in my brain as we speak.” I said, hardly even thinking about the consequences that may follow admitting to such an ailment. I looked up from the fire to see some of my companions looking on in shock, some of them poised to strike should Volo attack me while I’m vulnerable. I hadn’t considered the fact that the larvae made me a potential threat.

“That- that’s quite impossible. You’d have undergone ceremorphosis by now.” Volo said matter-of-factly. I saw the tension in the eyes of my companions settle at his conclusion.

“Of course. Impossible.” I said, shaking my head and returning my focus to the dancing flames of the campfire.

After a moment of silence, Volo’s innate curiosity got the better of him as he asked:
“Still… there would be no harm in my taking a teensy look, would there? I know all the signs. I would just peer in your eye… may I?”

I took a deep breath, looking to my companions as I considered his offer. They looked on, some of their eyes full of fear and others full of… curiosity.

“What the hells, have at it.” I said with a shrug, taking a final bite of my sausage before lying down on the log so that Volo could have a proper look into my eye.

“Oh… my…dear…sweet…GODS!” He exclaimed, examining my eye socket.

“Can you get rid of it?” I asked, neglecting to sugar coat my words. If he could end this nightmare, by all means, he was welcome to.

“Hmm, if we managed it, we’d have a specimen of incredible rarity on our hands. I’ll need to research the particulars, however. Give me a bit of time and I’ll have this little issue sorted.” Volo said with remarkable assurance.

I sat up as he started scribbling in his journal again, no doubt recording all the “symptoms” I was showing of ceremorphosis. He could write whatever he wanted about me if he managed to get rid of this damned parasite.

I thanked Gale for the meal and waved a polite goodnight to my companions without saying another word. That night I practically tripped to my tent and fell into the warmth of my bedroll. Sleep took me like a devil takes a mortal soul- without remorse. Only the gods know how I managed to awaken to the sound of soft footsteps creeping into my tent.

My eyes fluttered open, and I jolted upright at the feeling of hot breath on my neck and the flash of white hair in the dark. Astarion knelt at my side, leaning in close to me.

“... sh*t.” He said as he met my gaze.

I shuffled away from him, pawing behind me for my dagger. What the hells was he doing in my tent getting so godsdamned close while I was sleeping?

“No, no- It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to hurt you or anything! I just… I needed… well I needed blood.” He said, laying it all in the open.

In that moment it was evident he was telling the truth. Even in the black of night, my darkvision allowed me to pick up on the pearliness of his pointed fangs and the deep crimson of his eyes. He was not just a particularly pale elf- he was a vampire. A slave to sanguine hunger. I was grateful I had gotten enough shut eye to gather my senses, my thoughts swimming with questions.

“How… how long has it been? Since you killed someone?” I asked, impulsively reaching a hand to my throat to feel for any puncture wounds. There was nothing.

“I’ve never killed anyone!” Astarion said, sounding as if I had offended him. I scoffed at his remark and he rolled his eyes. “Not for food- I mean!” He clarified- a little annoyed.

“I feed on animals- Bears, deer, kobolds. Whatever I can get. But it’s not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak- if I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.” He begged.

His voice was weak and his body slumped. That last fight had taken a lot out of us all- the goblins just kept coming in droves- refusing us even a moment of respite until there were none left. In a last ditch effort, I felt Astarion’s tadpole tug on my own, his secrets half-revealed and his true identity exposed to the inner workings of my mind. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t believe him- I did- but why hadn’t he told me sooner?

“Why keep it a secret?” I asked him, dropping the dagger I was gripping in one hand. I had no intention of initiating a fight over this.

“At best, I was sure you’d refuse me. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs. I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.” Astarion clarified, his red eyes looking directly into my own. His words were his oath.

“I do. Trust you.” I exhaled. We all had our secrets, but slowly we were all opening up to one another. It was better to nurture the bonds we had than destroy them over petty white lies brought to light over time.

“Would you… trust me just a little further?” Astarion hesitated to ask, but the desperation in his voice revealed that he felt he had no other choice. He held a hand to his neck, suggesting he might just take a little blood to sustain himself.

“I only need a taste- I swear.” He promised.

I twisted my face in thought, looking him up and down. He did look like he could use the boost in energy. Considering how exhausted I felt after tearing through the waves of goblins, I could only imagine he felt exponentially worse.

“Fine. But not a drop more than you need.” I agreed, questioning myself even the very moment I spoke. Was this really a good idea? I laid my head back onto my bedroll, closing my eyes and praying to whatever entity that would listen that I hadn’t just made a foolish lapse in judgement.

“Really? I- of course. Not one drop more.” Astarion said, surprised at first, but jumping at the opportunity to restore his former strength.

I laid there, squeezing my eyes shut. The anticipation of his bite caused my skin to crawl. I convinced myself it would be just like a trip to the medic- a quick draught of bitter medicinal tonic and then it would be over. Right? Suddenly I felt it- a shard of ice directly into my neck. The cold sensation creeped from my throat and spread throughout my body. There was a quick sharp pain at the source that gradually faded into a throbbing numbness. The rapidfire of sensations caused my pulse to quicken and my breath to catch in my throat. I let him hold his place latched under my chin for a moment before I felt a warm wet drop of blood slide from my neck down to my collarbone. If he could afford to let even a smidge go to waste, he had gotten his fill.

“That’s… enough.” I managed to choke out, struggling to catch my breath as the icy chill filled my lungs.

“Mmh?” I felt Astarion hum against my neck, then pull himself away. “Oh- of course.” He obliged, bringing his hands to his lips and wiping away any mess he had made.

I brought my hand to my neck, which was mostly numb at this point, feeling around for the puncture wounds he had left in his wake. I found them before long, two small, circular little marks that were already beginning to clot as they were exposed to the night air.

“They will be closed by the morning, you shouldn’t lose any more blood.” Astarion said, noticing my concern at the wounds.

“Thank you. My mind is finally clear. I feel strong… I feel… happy!” He said, practically buzzing with newfound vigor. When he smiled, the fangs in the corners of his grin were so obvious to me now. Why hadn’t I seen them before?

“Good. Then you’ll have the energy to tell the rest of the group your secret come morning.” I said, shooting him a challenging look. I practically dared him to oppose me after providing him with my own blood.

He cleared his throat. “Fine. I can manage that.” He agreed, begrudgingly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating- but I need something more filling.”

He stalked out of my tent, walking off toward the wilderness with a spry lightness in his step. I pitied his prey, they would never hear him coming with agility like that. He looked back for a moment before slipping past the tree line, his gaze piercing through me.

“This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.” Were his final words before evaporating into the night.

After making a considerable donation to the Astarion blood-bank, I was left feeling rather spent. I thankfully slept the rest of the night without any interruption. My dreams were surprisingly not too outlandish considering the day’s events. There were no strange protectors telling me secrets of our tadpoles on this particular night. I was thankful for it, too.

In the morning I awoke to breakfast being prepared by a well-rested wizard of Waterdeep. The smell of roasted tomatoes and baked beans beckoned me from my bedroll. It didn’t take long for the mouth-watering smell to call everyone from their tents and gather around the fire for a morning meal.

“Astarion…” I began after everyone had sat down and been served their portion. “Would you like to share what you were up to last night?” I proposed.

He looked sheepish as he held a charred tomato to his face, eye-ing it thoughtfully.

“Well… It went a little something like…” He bared his fangs, the indent of his dimples revealing themselves as he sunk his teeth into the skin of the ripe fruit. It took mere moments for him to suck the juices from it, leaving nothing but the limp outer layer behind.

“Surprise, I’m a vampire.” He said playfully, trying his very best to make light of his confession. The group had… mixed reactions.

“Hah! Well, given our group’s nature, I don’t see much harm. We’re each monsters in the making, after all.” Shadowheart said with a laugh.

“A vampire amongst us?” Lae’zel hissed. “So be it. But should I wake with so much as a drop of blood on my neck- I will end him. My flesh is not so easily tasted. Unless of course- I have offered it.” she quipped.

“Hunting with vampires? I never thought I’d see the day. I take it you found this out the hard way, Tav? Will you be growing a pair of fangs, yourself?” Wyll asked, arching his neck to see if he might get a glance at my own.

I had strategically hidden the marks behind my hair this morning so that I could pick the right time to breach the subject. I scoffed, a little embarrassed to admit Wyll was correct in his assumption and pulled my hair back to reveal the scar on my jugular.

“I knew it!” Gale exclaimed, aghast at the mark I now bore on my neck. He pointed a finger at Astarion accusingly. “I knew you’d try something like this eventually. I guess I can hardly blame a vampire for being true to it’s nature…”

Gale leaned in to get a closer look at the marks that had formed on my skin. I narrowed my eyes at him, my offended gaze getting the point across that I wasn’t to be studied like a tome and he needed to back up. He caught my drift and obliged, surrendering and giving me my personal space once again.

“Technically, I’m just a vampire spawn. I can’t turn anyone.” Astarion clarified. “I’ve all of a vampire’s hunger, but few of their powers.”

“Come now, don’t undersell yourself! You may not have the grand lair nor loyal swarm- but a vampire spawn is still part of the vampire family. Technically.” Gale encouraged in a playful tone.

“Is that how you’re walking in the sunlight?” I asked, moving my hair back to cover my scar.

“Oh no, I should be cinders in this light. I hadn’t seen the sun for two hundred years before we crashed on the shoreline. Standing in the sun, wading through a river, wandering into homes without an invitation- they’re all perfectly mundane activities now.” Astarion explained.

“Fascinating! Just fascinating. I do thank you for contributing such riveting details for my next volume on vampirism. These qualities are most unique in nature.” A chipper voice sang from behind.

Unbeknownst to us, Volothamp Geddarm stood not far from the fire with a quill in hand, recording the finer points of our conversation in his journal. We had nearly all but forgotten he still accompanied us after all the excitement over breakfast.

“Ah! But on another note, my friend, my research turned up a rather brilliant technique to solve that parasite of yours. And it seems quite actionable.” Volo continued, his eyes alight.

I swallowed the last bite of my breakfast. What a way to start the day.

“It isn’t too deep. Just behind the orbital socket. I could attempt an extraction. I’ve a needle in my tunic, after all…” Volo pointed to his eye, and drew a long pointed tool from below his breast with the opposite hand.

I began to wish I had a stiff drink to accompany my morning meal.

“Tav, surely you’ve lost enough blood these past few hours. I really don’t think this is the best of ideas…” Gale said, placing a hand on my arm as I stared at Volo’s pointed instrument. The metallic finish of the needle glinted tantalizingly in the morning sun.

“Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?” Gale’s voice echoed in my mind. A question made in jest what seemed like ages ago, but maybe we had come across someone with such a talent after all.

“Bards are known for performing with word and wit, not for performing complex ocular surgeries.” Gale went on, desperately trying to convince me to pass on Volo’s… “generous” offer. He sounded genuinely concerned that I was considering the bard’s “solution”.

I finally looked towards Gale, his eyebrows turned upward and his mouth twisted in worry. My heart panged to see him distressed, but when my gaze turned towards the delicate strands of the scar that creeped up from his chest and to his eye, my decision was made. The presence of the tadpole complicated whatever condition Gale was plagued with. Although he hadn’t mustered the courage to tell me everything that he knew of his ongoing malaise, he was certain that the tadpole threatened his well being even more. It threatened all of our well beings. If this was an opportunity to be rid of it once and for all, I’d be a fool not to take the risk.

“Do it.” I said, getting up from my seat beside Gale. I could see him out of the corner of my eye as he placed his head in his hands in dismay as I walked toward Volo.

He laid me out on a stretch of stone, the morning sun offering sufficient lighting for him to perform whatever intricate procedure he had read about the night prior. I braced myself as the needle neared my eye socket, and immediately questioned my decision as his movements were far less certain than I had anticipated them being. The entire procedure was uncomfortable, but I pressed on. I held my breath, clenched my fist, and… recalled blacking out temporarily after he gave up on his needle and retrieved an ice pick from his satchel.

“Do you feel that? I believe we have the blighter on the run! Feisty little critter…” Volo had said, before my memory went blank.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting up with my head aching and my vision remarkably… lopsided. Everything was hazy. I tried to focus on Volo as he spoke to me, but it looked like he had cast Mirror Image upon himself as three versions of him all dawning his signature blue tabard danced around me and spoke in riddles.

“There appears to be… an amount of cosmetic damage.” He said. I couldn’t find the strength in me to respond.

“You knocked her bloody eye out!” Gale’s disembodied voice rang out, when suddenly he came into view. Actually, multiple of him came into view, all three of them looking at Volo with unbridled rage.

“I can’t help but feel partly responsible.” Volo said, placing a hand over his heart in earnest. “Perhaps… you can use this?” He dug through his satchel to pull out a glass eye, the iris a vibrant blue with golden accents. “A far superior relic to that old jelly you were chained to.” He said with certainty. Carefully, he pried open my eye socket and with a quick chant under his breath, there were no longer three versions of him standing before me.

“Try that on for size. And um- it was very nice to have met you. Ta ta!” Volo remarked, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and already darting towards the tree line and out into the wilderness.

Gale clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when I said that a bard’s skills lie primarily in their words.” He said, approaching me as I was still orienting myself after being poked and prodded so violently. He held my face in both hands, squinting to get a better look at the new organ that graced my orbital socket. I hadn’t the wherewithal to swat him away, allowing him to embody the doting caretaker he hid within. I could only imagine he was raised with a mother who acted the same.

“Well, it looks as if it is a good fit. With time, you should be able to acclimate to it appropriately. And it appears as if it has some magical qualities to it, as well.” Gale said with satisfaction, patting my cheek with his palm twice before releasing the grip he had on my face and walking away.

“I question your ability to see reason. Zorru has suggested my kin are to the west. We may seek better treatment there, no more of this bardic nonsense.” Lae’zel snapped, looking at my new eye with disdain. Her dour presence was cut by the lively voice of Wyll, who placed an arm around me in celebration.

“Welcome to the League of the Lone Eye, my friend! Not to minimize the pain of Volo’s poking and prodding, but I promise you: you’ll be used to the prosthesis in no time.” He encouraged, inspecting Volo’s handiwork. He seemed impressed, and glad to have a kindred spirit amongst him.

“Besides, I find it gives one an air of mystique. No one’s more intriguing than a woman with one eye. Wouldn’t you agree, Gale?” Wyll suggested, calling Gale’s attention toward me once more. I blinked several times in succession, trying to adjust to my new pupil, unintentionally fluttering my lashes dramatically.

“You’re both marvelously mysterious. Now, we’ve got a druid to meet, haven’t we?” Gale remarked with minimal enthusiasm. He acted indifferent towards my newfound heterochromia. My vision was still blurred, but even so, I could have sworn I caught a blush spread across his face when he glanced over at me. I hoped I hadn’t been seeing things.

Chapter 9: Meeting the Barbarian

Chapter Text

Gale, Wyll, Lae’zel and I walked into the grove that morning to see the Tieflings that had been sheltering there packed up and preparing to hit the road. Zevlor was amongst them, flagging us down when he caught us pass through.

“Hold on, there! It’s you we have to thank for returning the druid Halsin. And for eradicating the threat of the goblins on our trip to the city. You were promised a reward.” He said, thoughtfully. He looked happy.

Looking around, he wasn’t the only one. All of the tieflings that had been taking shelter in tents within the grove were smiling amongst their kin, counting heads and buckling backpacks that they had slung over their shoulders.

“You can keep your coin.” I said to him, my heart full at the sight of the tiefling children bouncing impatiently, eager to get on the road to Baldur's Gate.

“Chk!” I heard Lae’zel chirp cynically from behind. I paid no mind to her disapproval.

“You’re too kind. We will not forget the service you have done for us, I only hope one day we might be able to return the favor.” Zevlor said with reverence. “Perhaps we can celebrate before we hit the road? We’d be happy to bring our wine stores to your camp for a night of revelry.”

The mention of wine piqued all of our interests. It had been a while since any of us had our hands on a good drink in this fresh hell of a reality.

“Should you decline this offer, you’ll have a very dissatisfied wizard on your hands.” Gale said, nudging my ribs. I wasn’t about to have that be the case.

“That sounds like a splendid idea. You are all welcome in our camp come nightfall. I hope you will indulge yourselves in an evening to rejoice before making the trek to the city.” I said with a smile. It certainly was something I’d be looking forward to.

The crowd of tieflings chattered jubilantly amongst themselves, all of them riled by the idea of a party after all the hardship they had faced. In the midst of their childlike excitement- there was a commotion by the gate. I bristled, fearing a troupe of goblins had escaped our grasp and found their way to the grove once more.

We all whipped our heads towards the gate, expecting an enemy but seeing… a familiar face. A woman, her skin a vibrant shade of crimson and the look on her face desperate and pleading. I saw the horns on her head first - only - one of them was missing. This was the woman I had seen fighting devils in Wyll’s memory.

Wyll jumped at the sight of her, drawing his blade without hesitation.

“One horn. The stench of Avernus. Karlach.” He growled, approaching her without a hint of hesitation, his knuckles white as he gripped his rapier.

She looked at him, bewildered. “Well, I’ll be godsdamned- the Blade of Frontiers. Thought I'd shaken you for good. That’ll teach me to underestimate you.” She said, crossing her arms.

“Wyll, this woman is your target? I can’t help but think you may have been misinformed.” Gale said as he observed. Wyll ignored his commentary.

“I am the Blade. I chase my prey until death takes me. I know what you are- and who you serve. I refuse to allow you to burn the Sword Coast to ash.” He proclaimed, staring her dead in the eye.

Swiftly, with a flourish of his blade, he had it pointed at Karlach’s throat. She stiffened for a moment in surprise, but relaxed as she spoke.

“You don’t understand, Wyll. I’m running from my past- I have no intention to serve her any longer.” She said, trying to de-escalate the situation. The tieflings looked on at the quarrel, many of them shepherding the children away from the impending brawl and into a safer corner of the grove.

“You think I don’t see how your flesh burns with the flame of a devil from the Hells? I’m not so easily fooled.” He narrowed his eyes, steeling himself as he inched the blade closer to Karlach’s throat.

I could see her flesh pulse with heat, tendrils of flame revealing themselves as they danced on her skin. She was quite literally on fire- but she didn’t react.

“Wyll, if you’d just-” Karlach started, her thought interrupted as she gasped in pain. She balled a fist at her side, squeezing her eyes tight. I saw Wyll stumble back, dropping his rapier, holding his head in his hands.

As soon as I recognized what was happening, I too felt the pull of their tadpoles. All of us were given the vision- a first hand experience of Karlach as she cut through cambions and imps in the first layer of Hell. She was fighting on the front lines of the Blood War - but her eyes darted around her, desperately seeking an escape. The vision dissipated as rapidly as it had come on, leaving us all better informed on the origins of the scarlet-skinned woman Wyll had been enlisted to kill. She was innocent.

When Wyll opened his eyes, the conflict within him was clear.

“By Balduran’s helm… is this a trick?” He called out, snatching his blade from the ground where it had fallen. He once again built his defenses as if Karlach was to strike at him while he was vulnerable.

Her gaze was soft as she observed the paranoia in Wyll’s eyes.

“You know monsters, Wyll. Better than anyone. Look at me- I’m no devil. I was enslaved by them, forced to serve Zariel against my will.” She said. She grimaced as many of the tieflings in the camp drew back from her at the admission she had served the Archduch*ess of Avernus. The very same heartless warmonger that had stolen Elturel from its peaceful place on Faerun and caused them all to be cast from the home that once welcomed them. I could see her heart sink.

Wyll shook his head in disbelief, but understood now that Karlach hadn’t been deceiving him. He sheathed his rapier at his side.

“I’m… I’m sorry Karlach. A thousand apologies will never be enough to express my remorse.” Wyll said, looking somber.

“Listen- Wyll. If you can help me get this godsdamned parasite out of me I’d be more than inclined to forgive you. Hells, if you managed that I’d go as far as to kiss you.” She joked, obviously not harboring any ill-will.

Wyll looked back at me, Gale and Lae’zel. His eyes asked the question without needing to open his mouth. I nodded- of course she could travel with us. She was in need of a cure as much as the rest of us were. We had better chances of survival if we stuck together.

Gale spoke softly as Wyll walked her over, careful not to let Karlach overhear.

“She seems a little rough around the edges… but I suppose I can be smooth enough for two.” He remarked with a wink. I rolled my eyes, hiding the fact I was entertained by his clever quip.

Like a true gentleman, Wyll introduced us to his new non-devil friend.

“Ah, ah- sorry. No handshakes. Not unless you’d like your fingers fried.” She said with a laugh. Even standing near her, the heat from her body was intense.

“Actually- that’s why I’m here in the first place. I caught wind there was a tiefling in the area who knew their way around… infernal machinery.” She said, hesitant to reveal more.

“Infernal?” Gale asked, his curiosity taking precedence over his manners. She didn’t seem comfortable breaching this topic.

“There was a horned one by the name of Dammon- his body reeked of the hells, more so than the other… Teef-lings.” Lae’zel remarked, taking care to pronounce the race’s name correctly this time.

Karlach’s eyes lit up, her expression filled with hope. She whipped her head around, scanning the crowd of tieflings that gathered to leave in the morning.

“Where? Has he left yet? Can I speak to him?” Questions shot like arrows from her mouth as she rapidly scoured the area for the tiefling in question.

Lae’zel sniffed the air. “Hm. My senses tell me he is still at his forge.” She said matter-of-factly.

Gale peered at Lae’zel, his eyes squinting in disbelief and utter confusion.

“How can you… but how is it that…” He pointed to his nose, stammering his words. “Never mind.”

Karlach took off running, not wasting any time. I felt obliged to follow, so I thanked Zevlor and promised to speak to him at the party later before darting off after her with my companions in tow.

Chapter 10: A Warlock Amongst Us

Chapter Text

Lae’zel had no problem showing us where she had met Dammon at his forge. She said that she had spoken to him briefly during her search for Zorru. She hadn’t said much else about the encounter, however.

As we approached the forge, Dammon and Karlach were already in a conversation. As the blacksmith glanced in our direction, his mouth twisted in a nervous grin at the sight of our githyanki companion. Oh, gods. What had she said to the poor chap when they met to leave such an impression? He redirected his focus back to Karlach, her voice dripping with urgency.

“A gift from Zariel. Keeps me burning hot.” She sneered.

“Very hot, by the smell of it. Might be burning out a piston ring- or leaking oil. Mind if I take a listen?” Dammon asked politely.

“Be my guest. But don’t get too close- or your eyes’ll melt shut.” Karlach said, her face stern with seriousness. She made jokes about it, but her touch was dangerous and she knew it.

To my surprise, Dammon leaned in towards Karlach and pressed his pointed ear towards her chest. He was quiet, closing his eyes to focus. I was quiet too, holding my breath so that I might be able to pick up on the subtleties of sound of whatever he was listening to. He spoke about… a piston? In Karlach’s chest? I watched them curiously, unsure what to make of their exchange.

“Ack!” He exclaimed as the tip of his ear hissed with heat, drawing himself back from Karlach’s unnatural warmth. “Phew! You really are burning up. Whoever put that engine together tried to house metallurgised demono-valves inside a ra-gnax alloy casem*nt. Very risky.”

…Engine?

“I might be able to help…” Dammon went on. “But- I’d need infernal iron, and a prayer that my hamer’ll survive the work. That thing isn’t meant to operate outside Avernus. I’m not sure how much longer it will run the way it’s going.” he warned. “And it looks like the troops will be heading out in the morning- I won’t be here come the dawn.”

Karlach clicked her tongue in disappointment, balling her fist in anger.

“Gods dammit.” She said through clenched teeth. She paced in front of Dammon, racking her brain trying to find a solution to the convoluted puzzle she found herself in.

“...You’ve got an engine in your chest?” I asked, trying to speak softly so as not to upset her any further.

“Courtesy of the Archdevil herself. Not only is it in my chest- the cursed thing’s replaced my heart. And it appears as if it’s malfunctioning as we speak…” She confessed, obviously frustrated. “I just want to be able to touch people again! I’m a walking fire hazard!”

My heart sank to hear her so fed up. Dammon mentioned Infernal Iron… I was pretty certain I had found some in the goblin leaders’ hoard. I dug through my pack until I found it, a chunk of weighty metal that smelled distinctly of sulfur. It felt slightly warm to the touch, as if I clutched a mug of tea in my hands as I held it out towards them both.

“You’ve- you’ve got some! This… should be enough.” Dammon said, his eyes widening at the sight of the hellish material.

He took it from me, balancing it in his hands and assessing its weight. With a decisive nod, he turned to the flames of his forge. He began feeding them with all his effort, barely managing to get them to burn hot enough to alter the chunk of iron. He grunted as he worked at the metal with his hammer, sweat beading on his brow. With each strike he made, I feared the hammer’s head might fly clean off with the force he applied.

Kalrach looked on, arching her neck to see if she might get a better look at what the smith was working on. She looked… hopeful. A stark contrast from the rage that was in her eyes only moments ago. Turning towards me, her eyes alight, she mouthed: “Thank you.”

I grinned. I didn’t know what else I was going to do with the heap of metal aside from sell it. It was better off going to a person who needed it, and it made my pack all the lighter for the travels we had ahead of us.

“Now, you’ll have to install it yourself… I don’t think there are any gloves in the realms thick enough to withstand that kind of heat.” Dammon said, carefully handing over a hammered metal piece to Karlach.

I didn’t know what it was for, exactly, but Karlach recognized it from the look in her eyes. She nodded, eagerly taking the part from Dammon’s gloved hands. She hastened to work it into her chest cavity, able to navigate her own inner workings with ease. After a few moments, she took a deep breath of Faerunian air.

“That feels… good!” Karlach exclaimed, taking a moment to assess herself. Her skin still pulsed with flame as she stood. “I’m still burning hot as hell’s hole- but I feel less…changeable. Cheers, mate!” Karlach said, thanking both Dammon and myself for the upgrade.

“Pleasure. As for the heat- I haven’t got any solutions now. But I’m not giving up. Could be… if the combustion chamber had its own insulation, or if we had some sort of enchanted coolant…” Dammon went on, rubbing his chin with a clawed finger in thought. “Find me again in Baldur’s Gate! If I’m worth my salt, I’ll have something figured out by then. Take care, Karlach- oh! And pocket any infernal iron you find along the way- I’ll be needing it.”

“Will do, smithy. Thank you again, and safe travels.” Karlach said with a newfound spring in her step. We left Dammon to pack up the remainder of his forge as he prepared for the long trip on the Risen Road to the city.

Karlach pulled me aside afterwards.

“Soldier, I don’t know what compelled you to give up your treasure to help little old me, but I sincerely thank you for it. I know a friend of Wyll’s is a friend of mine- but you may have just saved me from an early grave back there. I owe you one- or several even.” Karlach said, holding a fist to her heart in earnesty.

“Well- you may have just saved me from a sore back from carrying that hunk of metal around. So I’ll call it even.” I said with a grin. I heard Gale quietly laugh through his nose at my remark.

Karlach grinned wide. “If I could hug you- I would. We’ll say I owe you one of those at least- but not until we see Dammon again.” she said with optimism.

“Halsin said he would be around here, no?” Wyll said, looking around the grove.

“He said he would be here this morning. Might be deeper inside- by the chamber where Kagha was.” I suggested, and waved the group forward. It wasn’t long before I heard Halsin’s bass voice booming, and followed the sound. We found him by the idol of Silvanus that had been the conduit for the chanting of the druids during the Rite.

“You took it upon yourself to undertake the Rite of Thorns?! I ought to exile you from this place. Instead, I will listen to the explanation that you owe me.” Halsin shouted, Kagha’s comparatively frail form standing before him with a furrowed brow.

“I owe you nothing.” She hissed at the archdruid, baring her teeth like she was a viper about to strike.

“Silence!” Halsin yelled, Kagha’s insolence testing his patience. He took a steadying breath before continuing.

“I will allow you to stay- but consider yourself a novice anew. You have forgotten the ways of the druids - our place in the natural order. You shall learn it all once again- right here. Backslide, and nature’s fury will crush you.” There was conviction in his words.

“As you wish- master Halsin.” Kagha retorted, taking a small bow before the Archdruid. Her words were disingenuous, but Halsin didn’t seem to mind. As Kagha walked away, myself and my companions approached him.

“She didn’t seem… remorseful. She tried to imprison a child, Halsin.” I said to the archdruid. His eyes dropped, pursing his lips.

“Unfortunately, the grove can’t afford to lose a promising druid. Even still- I trust that nature will guide her in the right direction- or punish her for taking the wrong path.” He said with confidence. I admired the fact he had such faith in the forces of nature and the will of Silvanus.

As we stood before the archdruid, the familiar face of Rath walked over with a bundle in his hands.

“You requested this, master Halsin?” He said, offering the bundle, and nodding at us politely in greeting.

“Thank you, Rath. I wish to offer this as thanks to our friends here- for their bravery and commitment to protecting the grove.” Halsin said, gesturing us towards the bundle.

I hesitantly stepped forward, taking the long bundle wrapped in cloth and unwrapping it carefully. I peeled back the burlap to reveal an elaborate glaive, the metal finish shining in the light of the morning sun. I gasped at the sight of it, looking to Halsin gratefully. Alongside the glaive there was a small bundle of potions and spell scrolls that I had no doubt would be useful in our adventure to come, and distributed them amongst the group. I did give the scrolls to Gale, however, as the resident wizard.

I drew the glaive from its cloth sheath, shifting it in my hands to feel how it was balanced. It was expertly forged, the etchings of leaves and branches across its shank evident of its masterful craftsmanship. As I gripped the weapon, I was overcome with a melancholy feeling… as if it was born of a loss of many.

Halsin seemed to recognize the sensation, commenting on it.

“That blade has seen the destruction of many. Silvanus cursed it years ago to bear the weight of the wrongdoings of its previous owner. While it is in more trusted hands as you wield it- the horrors of its past haunt it still.” He explained, noting the heaviness in my heart as I gripped the weapon. It was a powerful enchantment that it bore, the solemnity of the sadness that it elicited creating an intense focus within me. It may prove rather useful even with the curse that cleaved to it. I strapped it to my back, feeling the sorrow wash away as my hands broke contact with its shaft.

“Thank you, Halsin. I will do all in my power to use the glaive so that Silvanus may find it redeemable.” I swore.

“I’ve no doubt you will. Now- the way to Moonrise Towers is complicated. There are rumours of an underground stronghold that may offer a clear path, or there is another path along the Risen Road… but it is more complicated than that.” Halsin began, but he held his tongue. “I would elaborate, but we’ve cause for celebration on this night. We can hold the more serious conversation for the morrow.”

I twisted my face. How much time did we have to waste? I feared it wasn’t enough. Could we trust the “protector” of our dreams to really shield us from the transformation of our parasites? How much longer would we be granted its salvation? I took a shaky breath.

“Of course. You are more than welcome to join the tieflings in our camp come the evening, we’ll all indulge in some drink and good conversation.” Gale chimed in, his smile charming and elegant as he addressed the Archdruid. He approached from behind me, putting a comforting hand on the center of my back. He could sense my hesitation.

“That sounds most welcome. I will organize my thoughts about the next steps in your predicament until then. I thank you- for everything.” Halsin said, bowing his head. He excused himself, turning back to matters regarding the grove while the sun still hung high. He and Rath engaged in hushed conversation as they walked away.

“You mean to tell me we are to ignore the hideous squirming in our heads for another night? How can you guarantee we’ll survive to see the dawn?!” Lae’zel said, exasperated.

My chest tightened.

“Calm down, Lae’zel. Taking a single night to enjoy ourselves is something we likely won’t have opportunity to do again. We’re all free of symptoms for the time being- our skin is notably not gray, our faces blessedly free of tentacles… I see no reason for upset.” Gale argued. He had a point.

“We’ve wasted enough time, istik. If the druid will not tell us what he knows, I have ways of loosening his tongue…” Lae’zel sneered, snatching a handaxe from her belt and glaring towards an unsuspecting Halsin.

“Now, now, Lae’zel. It is unbecoming of a host to attack invited party guests.” Gale said calmly, stepping in front of Lae’zel before she got any closer to the druid. “Should any of us feel effects of ceremorphosis, I expect honesty and forthright communication. We can change our plans should the need arise- but I believe a salute to our accomplishments is well earned.”

Lae’zel seemed perturbed by the conclusion, but Karlach and Wyll nodded in agreement with Gale. I was glad to see him able to mediate the disagreement- I myself was unsure if the party was the best decision. Despite my hesitation, I looked forward to it. To leisurely sip on a cup of wine under the stars on a summer night… how I craved that freedom.

I dismissed the group to go about the grove on their own until nightfall. There were still a few tieflings with goods to peddle, and I figured discounts would be increased for the famed goblin killers. Not to mention the traders would have to carry everything to the city if they couldn’t sell it now. A few of them went to converse and make deals amongst the tieflings, while others laid back in the lush grasses of the grove and took time to rest.

Gale went to a secluded shady corner of the grove and propped himself up against a stone carved with druidic runes. He pulled a book from his pack and started reading intently. He looked so contented, I hated to interrupt him- but I had something important to speak to him about. I sat on the ground beside him, curiously peeking at the title he was so engrossed in. ‘A Primer on Mythical Beasts’ the cover read.

“Familiarizing yourself with the local flora and fauna, eh?” I said, trying to get a peek at the chapter he was on.

Gale snickered. “Haha, I wouldn’t say Miniature Giant Space Hamsters are local.” He said. I had certainly never seen one, so I was inclined to believe he spoke the truth.

“Do you have a moment? I wanted to speak with you.” I said, getting to my point.

Gale tucked a small yellow flower between the pages of his book to mark his place, closing it gently and giving me his undivided attention.

“A moment for you? But of course.” He said smiling. I held myself back from blushing as he awaited my next words.

“I saw… the mark on your chest. When you consumed the ring. It’s not… just a tattoo, is it?” I asked, unconsciously rubbing my thumb on my sternum as if I bore the mark myself.

Gale grimaced, breaking his eye contact with me.

“Ah. You uh… you caught that, did you?” He said, letting a silence fall between us for a moment.

“I’m not sure I can speak on it any farther. It’s still a rather… sensitive issue I’m afraid. I’d much appreciate it if you were to grant me some patience and privacy regarding the matter.” He explained, finding the confidence to look back at me as he spoke. He spoke with a seriousness that caught me off guard. Like his voice suddenly didn’t match his face.

It was unlike Gale to hold his tongue the way he was. I had become accustomed to his lengthy monologues as of late, appreciating the way he had a little remark to add in every situation. Seeing him actively hold back from addressing a matter most personal was very… mysterious of him. More like Shadowheart’s expected behavior than his own.

“Alright. I hope… I hope I can still trust you, Gale.” I said, not wanting to press the matter any farther.

He nodded, pursing his lips and returning to his book without saying another word. I got up from the grass and left him to his reading, sighing deeply.

He seemed a little perturbed. I suppose it was unbecoming of me to expose the marking unprovoked like I had. I regretted it, mostly because of how much it upset him, but I also was glad I found it at the same time. There was obviously more he had yet to share, and while fear and curiosity ate away at my thoughts, I had no choice but to be patient with him. We all had demons- that much was made especially clear these past few days. I wasn’t sure why, but I feared Gale’s demons more than I had expected to. He was so quiet, I feared he would get lost in his own inadequacies and let those demons overtake him. He deserved better.

I tried to push my worries about the wizard to the side as I went to go find what the rest of the gang was up to. I saw Wyll saying his goodbyes to the tiefling children, playfully dueling with them as they wielded wooden swords and he feigned injury. Karlach was talking to Zevlor, nodding in understanding as he spoke to her in hushed tones. He was telling her about Elturel- how they escaped. It was a harrowing tale, but Karlach was just as glad to hear they were able to escape Zariel’s clutches - just as she had. Shadowheart was talking to some of the tieflings that were going to be at the party. She had offered to help bring some crates of the wine to our camp to prepare for the evening. The mischievous glint in her eye told me she had an ulterior motive for offering such assistance. Astarion was splayed out on the grass, his eyes looking to the sky as he fiddled with his dagger, twirling it between his fingers. I suppose he had to enjoy the sunlight while he still could.

Once the sun had begun to lower in the sky, we all headed to our camp to prepare for a night of hosting. Shadowheart introduced us to a lively white dog that she had come across while transporting the wine.

“His name is Scratch! He’s very sweet. Far from wolf-like. He followed my scent all the way here.” She said, petting him between his ears. His tongue fell out of his mouth with glee and I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of our newfound furry friend.

We continued to tidy up around the campground, making sure the space was free of tripping hazards. We tried to create a sitting area with logs and tree stumps we had found within the woods. It wasn’t perfect- but it would suffice. No party guests had arrived yet, Zevlor told us to expect them when the stars were out. The sky was still a watercolor of pinks, oranges and purples as the sun set.

Amidst the peaceful admiration of the painted sky, a low whoosh cut through the camp’s silence.

“Hell’s fire. She’s coming.” Wyll said, looking on in fear as a dark portal swirled on the ground near the campfire.

“What? Who?” I said, rushing over to see the anomaly for myself. Wyll didn’t have time to answer as the portal blazed with flame, and a female figure rose from the rift. Her skin was an unnatural shade of grey, almost purple in tone. She had four sharp horns protruding from her scarlet hair, and two formidable bat-like wings sprouting from her back. She was not of this plane.

“Wyll, you’ve been naughty- and you know what happens when you’re naughty.” She called to the blade in a sing-song tone. She sounded as if she was mocking him.

“Gods damn it. Anyone but her.” Karlach said in a growl, glaring at our uninvited guest with inner flames ablaze.

“A Devil?” Gale gasped, looking aghast at the vision that stood in our quaint little refuge.

“Call me Mizora. I’m Wyll’s patron, the fount of his power.” She announced, her voice sweet as a ripe strawberry fresh off the vine. It was clear to me that hidden behind that sweetness was a sickness, a poison that corrupted and controlled.

“My pet’s been unruly- and his leash needs a yank.” Mizora closed her fist and jerked it away from Wyll, as if he had a collar around his neck. Wyll stumbled towards her, his hands to his throat and his knees trembling. She frightened him. The Blade of Frontiers- afraid.

“We had a deal Wyll. But Karlach’s still breathing.” She bared her fangs as she spoke, glancing maliciously at Karlach who stood poised to strike if the opportunity arose.

“I’ve taken more pleasant sh*ts than you, Mizora, and at least those can be buried after.” Karlach spat. Her history with the devil was apparent, and her hatred even more so.

“That’s no kind of talk for a lady. By the way, Karlach- Zariel sends her regards.” Mizora chirped with confidence. She knew how to get under the tiefling’s skin. Karlach gritted her teeth hearing Zariel's name.

“You told me… devils only. She’s a tiefling- not a monster.” Wyll’s voice strained - his throat still being squeezed by the invisible hand of his patron. She looked at him unamused by his retaliation.

“How precious. The little pupster’s found his bark. Clause G, Section Nine: ‘Targets shall be limited to the infernal, the demonic, the heartless and the soulless.’ Kalrach meets the criteria by virtue of having no heart.” She explained, nearly yawning after reciting the terms of her contract.

“You aren’t laying a finger on Karlach.” I said with certainty, drawing the glaive from my back and glaring at Mizora menacingly. I was careful to observe her every move should she try to pull anything.

“You think you can kill me?” Mizora laughed at the sight of me poised to strike at her. “I wouldn’t recommend it. I die, and Wyll turns into a lemure and gets sucked right down to the Hells. Which reminds me…” Her voice seeped with evil as she raised a hand toward Wyll. She closed her eyes, mumbling an incantation in Abyssal, flames hovering around her palm.

Suddenly, Wyll’s body was encased in the flames of Avernus as they rose from his feet. The lightning storms of Dis struck his flesh, trailing marks on his skin as they went. His soul escaped his body and proceeded to pass through each layer of the Hells, gaining their essence and their torment before returning to its vessel. He was changed. As the flames died down and the shadow of Wyll’s body came back into the golden light of the setting sun- we saw him in his new form. Long, pointed horns sprouted from his skull and curved along the contour of his head. His remaining eye, once a warm shade of chocolate brown had been changed to a fiery red with a black sclera. Scars from the heat of the hells branded the sides of his face as he twisted it in confusion, reaching a hand up to feel the horns he’d been cursed with.

Mizora took a breath in satisfaction as she looked her Warlock up and down. “There. That’s more like it.”

“What the hells have you done?” Wyll shouted, his voice cracking.

“A promise broken, a price paid. You know the terms. Get used to the new form, pet. There’s no going back - some magic even I can’t undo.” Mizora snapped, his voice as calm and cool as a mountain spring. She took a leisurely glance at her nails as she spoke, disinterested in the panic that coursed through the changed Blade of Frontiers.

“Karlach, keep an eye on him, would you?” Mizora teased, taking pleasure in seeing Karlach grit her teeth and clench her fists in response.

“Don’t forget, Wyll. Our pact still stands…” Mizora called, her voice haunting as her form dissipated into the portal she had entered in. Within moments, the devil disappeared as quickly as she had arrived. The whole camp was shaken up. I frantically looked to the sky, grateful that there were no stars out just yet. We didn’t need any of the tieflings arriving now- while we were still recovering from the harrowing intrusion of a devil.

“Wyll… I won’t lie I’m reeling after all that- but why would you choose my life over your own? You hardly know me.” Karlach asked, approaching Wyll as he stared at the spot where Mizora sunk back into the hells.

“I did what was right by letting you live, Karlach. I was told I’d be hunting demons and devils, traitors and hypocrites… not Zariel’s victims.” Wyll shook his head in disbelief, his neck wobbling a little as it adjusted to the weight of his new horns.

“Considering you deliberately disobeyed the orders of the devil you are pacted with, I’d consider yourself lucky to be alive. Most Warlock contracts aren’t so forgiving in nature.” Gale remarked, looking at Wyll with amazement.

Wyll clicked his tongue and sighed. “I’m only alive because she still has use for me…”

“So… when you cast spells, the power you are drawing from… is Mizora’s?” I asked, not entirely familiar with the inner machinations of Warlock pacts.

Wyll nodded. “Correct. As Halsin draws from nature, and Gale draws from the Weave… I draw from the Hells. Before I was infected, I could even call on hellbeasts and summon festering clouds- but I swear it, every thrust of my blade and every flame I sparked was for the good of the Coast.”

Despite being intrinsically linked to a being so vile, he used the power he gleaned from the deal for good. It wasn’t hard to believe given the good word that surrounded the name “The Blade of Frontiers”. How would the public view him now, his form so hellishly modified?

“Why did you accept power from her, though? You are a capable fighter, you could have made a name for yourself along the coast without magic.” I remarked, paying him a compliment while he was at his lowest.

“I am forbidden to utter the terms or circ*mstances of the deal. Not unless Mizora permits it. But what I can tell you- is that the moment I pacted myself to Mizora I have not regretted for a heartbeat. It was my proudest deed.” Wyll said, his darkened eyes full of sentiment and honesty.

I sighed, sympathizing with his struggle. When I recognized we all had demons, I didn’t know some of us had them literally.

“Wyll, I can appreciate that you’ve used your power for good up until now- but this is just one of many jobs she will pawn off on you that are not good. You’ve got to get out of this contract.” Karlach warned him. She was intimately familiar with the games of devils at this point, and she wanted to stay as far as she could from their trickery.

“A possibility that's kept me awake countless nights. I don’t even have a clue where to start. She’d have to let me out of my pact willingly if I am to go free. The only way out is to… out-bargain her.” Wyll explained in frustration.

“Easier said than done.” Gale started. “Devil’s are well-practiced in the ways of negotiation… we’ve seen that much when we encountered Raphael on the road. His words were calculated- as were his actions. There’s a reason he dangles the solution in front of us instead of entering into a deal outright… just like there is a reason Mizora lets Wyll breathe another day.”

The camp was silent, processing the reality of it all. I took into account Gale’s observation of the devils, the way their actions were so deliberate. If we could manage to predict what they were up to, we might be able to break Wyll’s contract for good and in his favor.

“We’ll find a way, Wyll. With our heads put together we can find a solution.” I said, trying to reassure him.

“Our heads are as “together” as they’ll ever be.” Shadowheart joked, pointing to her skull where a tadpole swam around inside. The camp laughed softly.

“We’ll find a way, Soldier.” Karlach said to Wyll, without a doubt in her voice.

“Thank you. Thank you all.” Wyll looked around at all of us, smiling gratefully.

Chapter 11: A Night of Revelry

Chapter Text

I took a deep breath of the fresh wilderness air, the earthen scent of the wet ground filling my lungs. It was a beautiful night. The stars seemed to be twinkling brighter than I’d seen in a very long time. As I looked to the sky I could make out a few constellations I remembered learning in my youth. They were strikingly visible, not a cloud in the sky. The entire camp was lit by the clean white rays of the full moon, its reflection shimmering in the nearby lake and in the cups of wine gripped by all of the guests.

“We really made a difference, Soldier. We helped all of these people.” Karlach came up from behind me, beaming at the vision of the party before us.

We both looked out into our camp, full of tieflings from the grove talking amongst themselves and smiling. Some of them sipped on glasses of red wine, while others gulped entire bottles. They were certainly having fun. The excited vision of Scratch could be caught rushing back and forth throughout the camp, greeting all of the guests with a friendly lick or a wag of the tail. He seemed glad to meet new friends.

“Yeah, we did. I’m glad we have the opportunity to celebrate.” I responded, continuing to watch as the tieflings joked with one another, particularly enjoying the banter between the wizard Rolan and his two siblings Cal and Lia. They all took solace in the fact they would no longer be threatened on their journey to Baldur’s Gate. It was still going to be a hard road for them all, but at least they had this night to enjoy before the trek.

“Thank you, Karlach. You really showed those goblins whose boss - not sure I could have done it without you.” I turned to her with a smile.

The heat that was constantly pulsing from her body burned a little hotter as she smiled sheepishly.

“Thank you, Soldier. That means a lot. You’re not so bad yourself.” She quickly tapped my armor playfully with the back of her hand, careful to avoid any contact with my skin.

She and I both laughed gently.

“Now, go out there and mingle. This entire gathering is here to celebrate you, too.” Karlach gestured to the entire campground, full of drunken merrymaking. It made me miss the dirty tables and musty scent of the Blushing Mermaid.

I shot Karlach a grateful look and headed off into the camp to chat a bit. Astarion was complaining about the vinegar-y taste of the wine, but at this point we were familiar with his drink of choice. Shadowheart was quite enjoying the wine, but it looked like she had a choice bottle of her own that she squirreled away. It smelled a lot sweeter than the kind the Tieflings were offering. She asked if I wanted to share a bottle, but I politely declined. I wanted to keep my wits about me in case there were any intruders in the night. I didn’t see Wyll at his tent, and looking around he wasn’t amongst the Tieflings. I wondered where he may have run off to. Lae’zel was sitting comfortably by her tent, sipping wine and seemingly lost in thought. She didn’t look too thrilled, probably thinking about the tadpole and the strange dreams we had been having. It was a lot to take in, especially for a githyanki who are born to dread this very situation of becoming a mind flayer.

The archdruid Halsin stood in a corner, a smile on his face as he watched the tieflings make merry amongst themselves. I was glad he cared about the safety of the refugees, unlike Kagha. I was surprised at how forgiving he was to her after discovering her plan to cut off the grove via the Rite of Thorns. Had they succeeded and he returned, he would have been unable to get inside himself- even as the former archdruid.

“Thank you for your efforts in protecting these people, as well as my own.” Halsin said sincerely. He put a hand to his heart in thanks.

“Of course. I almost feel like there wasn’t a choice to be made- I had to.” I assured him with a smile.

“Our grove would be blessed to have someone of your talents. However, you obviously have some pressing matters to attend to. I will aid you in whatever way I can.” He said, his deep voice resolute and kind.

“What did you learn about the origin of these parasites? Do you think they can be removed?” I asked, letting my curiosity and desperate want for a solution take hold.

“They are unlike parasites I have read about, they have a unique quality about them. I will tell all in the morning - but please- take this time to celebrate. It is well-earned.” He encouraged.

His presence was calming even in the midst of the disaster that we all felt stuck in surrounding these parasites. I could feel his self connect to the ground with a magical anchor, even as he wasn’t performing any magic. He was truly one with nature as an Archdruid, an impressive talent to be sure.

I sighed, understanding Halsin was right of course and I should enjoy myself, but seeing Lae’zel struggle with the reality of the situation caused a pang of guilt in my gut that wouldn’t subside.

“Of course. Thank you, Halsin. We will talk in the morning.” I smiled at him, trying to hide my remorse.

“So, how long have you been archdruid?” I asked, genuinely curious as to how the inner circle of the grove’s hierarchy functioned. I had only ever heard murmurs of how druid circles operated, and ever since I left the High Forest as a child I had never met another organized circle of druids. The urban setting of Baldurs Gate didn’t provide much nature to anchor oneself to.

“Ah, it must be the better part of a hundred years now, give or take a few.” He waved his hand in the air in uncertainty. “It didn’t take me long after reaching adulthood to hear Silvanus calling to me. It is my duty to protect nature, my one true purpose.”

“Wow.” I said in awe of his story. “You are lucky to have found your calling so early in your life.”

He recognized the internal battle I fought within myself, grappling between the passion I had for swordwork and the desire placed within me to wield arcane powers.

“You are of elven blood, no? You have centuries ahead of you. You may find many passions yet.” Halsin said with reassurance.

I looked at him thoughtfully. “How many passions have you had?”

He smiled as if he was entertained by my question, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. I shook my head in embarrassment, realizing the mis-interpretation.

“N-no. I didn’t mean it like-” I stuttered, clamoring to clarify.

Halsin laughed heartily at my clumsy recovery, smiling warmly in understanding.

“Of course. I understand. Nature has always been my one true passion… but I've had many “passions”.” He added with a wink. “After all, when you get to be over 300 years old you realize tethering yourself to one person is very… restricting.”

I felt myself blush at the risque topic. Halsin must have sensed my embarrassment, taking a well-timed gulp from his goblet of wine.

“Ah. Anyhow- I won’t keep you. Please, go indulge yourself in the celebration!” He said, trying to recover from the awkwardness. He was a chatty drunk, I’ll have to make note of that.

“Of course. We will speak tomorrow.” I told him with a smile and a wave as I turned away.

Not far from Halsin stood Zevlor, his chest puffed proudly as he quaffed a goblet of wine.

“Ah! The hero of the hour. Are you enjoying yourself?” He greeted me with enthusiasm.

I smiled and nodded.

“Alfira’s tunes are certainly lending a much needed whimsy to the night, eh?” He said, pointing to the colorfully dressed bard strumming a lute by the campfire.

“She is certainly talented.” I said smiling, turning toward her performance. A few of the tieflings were gathered around her as she played, swaying to the tune of her instrument and the ring of her voice. She sounded lovely.

“Thank you, for all that you’ve done for us.” Zevlor’s drunken happiness dulled to a grateful solemnity.

I turned back toward him to see his eyes welling with water.

“Of course. I wish you all safe travels to Baldur’s Gate.” I said, trying to stay modest and to prevent this drunken soldier from getting all sentimental on me.

Zevlor just smiled, turning his attention back to his wine and going to join the crowd surrounding the singing Alfira. I was glad to see all of the tieflings taking the time to relax and enjoy themselves around the fire.

I looked around, wondering who I might strike up a conversation with next. I laughed to myself to see Karlach dancing her fiery heart out with some of the tieflings, giggling and grinning like a child. So many of the party-goers looked deep in their own conversations and even deeper in their drinks, I hated to interrupt. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Gale, emptying a bottle of wine into a goblet by his tent. His cheeks were flushed, leading me to believe he finished off the bottle all on his own. He looked a little lonely, so I made my way over.

He immediately noticed me as I approached and I saw him quickly swallow the gulp of wine he was holding in his mouth.

“Thank you.” he said earnestly as I stood before him.

I furrowed my brow in confusion.

“For what?” I asked, secretly grateful he seemed more conversational this evening.

“I’m glad you sought me out. Amidst all this merriment I wasn’t sure we’d have a chance to speak this evening.” He explained himself, raising his glass in thanks. “I was hoping you’d spare me a moment. There was something rather magical I wished to show you.”

His words piqued my interest. I did seek to learn as much about magic as I could, both in order to defend myself and to learn how to harness my own power I had only recently discovered was within me.

“Is that so? What did you have in mind?” I asked curiously.

“A lesson! And trust me when I say few have experienced the pleasure I offer to teach. However- it’s something best experienced in more… Intimate surrounds. Once the revelry has ended and the stillness of the night has been restored.” He spoke confidently, the kind of confidence that comes with an abundance of alcohol. He waved his goblet around dramatically as he spoke, it was only a matter of time until he was to spill it.

Despite his vain description of the lesson he had planned, I was intrigued by it nonetheless. I could certainly learn a lot from him, he had been studying magic for a long time from what I could tell. Maybe by the time the tieflings left, he would be more sound of mind.

“Sounds intriguing. I’ll look for you once the celebration has died down, but I don’t want to cut it short. They deserve this.” I said, gesturing to the happy-go-lucky tieflings as they continued to celebrate.

Gale smiled as he watched them, the reality of their situation sobering him just a little. We both watched them in silence for a moment, appreciating the rare opportunity it allowed to appreciate life. Gale cleared his throat and took a drink from his goblet of wine, turning his eyes to the stars.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think? Nothing like a brush with destruction to make you appreciate the beauty of the celestial canvas.” He attempted to change the subject and interrupt the silence between us.

“It’s a view I might have once shared with my companion. Though, definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” Even with the limited light from the moon, I could see the wistful look in his eyes as he recalled his former company. “She preferred it when we were alone. Curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us… ink glinting in the firelight…”

I let his words sit with me a moment as I recalled his early days traveling alongside me. I remembered asking him about himself, his words echoed in my mind: “I have a cat, a library, and a weakness for a good glass of wine…” He once said. I chuckled softly as I looked to the empty wine bottle at his feet. He certainly wasn’t lying about that part.

“Are you talking… about your cat?” I asked, imagining he and a fluffy feline curled up beside a fireplace.

“By Alghairons lost nose, no!” He exclaimed, his tone of voice sounding absolutely offended by my assumption.

“She isn’t just any cat! I speak of Tara, my tressym, my assistant, my constant companion through all the ills and tribulations my hubris has thrust upon me.” He was quick to correct me, I nearly feared he was upset with me for making such a mistake in regards to Tara’s exact identity.

To be fair, he did call her a “cat” every so often himself. His eyes went somber as he thought back to his memories with her.

“She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently. After I was afflicted with my condition, I locked myself in my tower for an entire year. I was inconsolable… wallowing in my self-inflicted tragedy. I’d given up on myself. But Tara never did.” A glimmer of gratitude reflected in his half-smile as he spoke of Tara. They certainly shared a special bond.

“It was her encouragement, her research that led me to my treatment. Once we knew that magically infused items were the key, she went out to find them for me. She saved my life. After so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to have repaid the favor. Not directly to Tara, but to these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.” He looked at me with a soft smile spread across his lips. He was happy to be a part of such a celebration after all his time in solitude, and happier to be the cause.

I was surprised to hear that Tara was able to conduct her own research on Gale’s magical affliction. Animals with such intelligence were hard to come by, in my own experience.

“What is Tara like?” I asked curiously.

Gale pointed a finger towards me, grinning slyly.

“You remind me of her somewhat. There’s a steeliness to you, an unwavering tenacity even in the face of -to be frank- quite dire odds. I wish she were here for me to make a formal introduction, but I would never ask her to undertake such a journey. She is safer at home.” He looked at the ground, disheartened by the truth that Tara couldn’t join us on our journey.

“Besides, she was always telling me I needed to spread my wings, so to speak. Find mortal friends, instead of hanging onto Mystra’s coattails. So that’s what I’m doing. …I hope.”

He fidgeted awkwardly, forgetting his social graces for a moment. The wine that had once sturdied the walls built with the overconfidence of a studied wizard had now begun to crumble them. In that moment, stood before me was an introverted little lamb who needed shepherding. He looked embarrassed, as if he had talked too much or overshared his personal life. It was hard to tell if the pink flush in his cheeks was from the drink or his own self-consciousness.

“She sounds like a fine animal. One I’d be honored to know.” I encouraged him. I was personally flattered he felt comfortable enough to share that much with me. Then again- maybe he wasn’t- and the wine caused him to do so without thinking.

“She would love you!” He exclaimed. “Uh- So long as you don’t rub her belly. She hates it when anyone does that.”

His childlike excitement when talking about his cat was endearing. I don’t know what came over me in the next moment: maybe it was the thought that in his wine-addled daze he may not remember this conversation, or maybe the vulnerability he had shown blossomed an attraction I didn’t know was dormant.

In a playful bout of flirtation I used his words as fuel, “... do you like having your belly rubbed?” I asked, smirking mischievously, baffled by my own confidence to say such a thing. It was silly- stupid even. I almost immediately regretted asking as soon as I opened my mouth.

Gale scoffed, raising an eyebrow. He looked rather mischievous himself as his eyes brimmed with recollection.

“The pleasures I experienced in Mystra’s tutelage go far beyond the thrill of having one’s tummy tickled. I remember once she took the smallest piece of the Weave and made it into- Wait.” He interrupted himself, the memory he was painting a picture of vanishing - his face confused and astounded.

“-Are you saying…?” He asked, squinting his eyes as he looked at me. He was unable to complete his thought.

“You know what, I think I’ve clearly had too much wine. And you’ve had nowhere near enough. I think this is a conversation best held back on - for now. With my condition as volatile as it is, I fear any undue -er- excitement, may tip it over the edge. So to speak.” He collected himself, I could tell it took a bit of effort for him to form coherent thoughts and spin them into words while under the influence.

His failure to reciprocate my impromptu attempt at flirting left me a little crestfallen, but I also wasn’t even entirely sure he was convinced I was expressing romantic interest. As much as he boasted of his magical prowess, his skill for recognizing social cues could use some brushing up on. If I were to say so, I’m sure he would blame the wine, but he even said himself he hadn’t spent time with anyone extensively in at least a year. An experience like that takes a toll on one’s ability to pick up on social subtleties.

“Go, indulge in the frivolities- they’re good for the heart. And mine will be all the lighter, to see you enjoying yourself. If you wish, you can find me when the excitement dies down.” He waved his hand away from himself, clearly embarrassed by the situation. I could see his thoughts spinning rapidly in his head- he looked like he was about to burst trying to keep his composure. I couldn’t bear to torture him with my presence anymore, so I waved goodbye politely. As I walked away I could see him knock down the remainder of the wine in his goblet, grimace at the empty cup, and survey the camp to scope out what vintages were still available.

As I turned away, I saw someone moving by the shore of the nearby lake. It was Wyll! He had secluded himself from the cheer of the party. I approached him quietly as he looked out into the dark, still water. It gave a nearly perfect reflection of the full moon, like a body of liquid mirror. I looked out into the water and listened to the crickets sing, the muffled sounds of the party but background noise to their sweet sound. The chorus of the both of them was comforting.

As I walked closer to the water, the snap of a twig beneath my feet gave away my presence. Wyll jumped, startled, and whipped his head around with his eyes wide, the grey stoney color of his left eye contrasting in his dark surrounds. His surprised face softened when he realized it was just me, but then twisted with mild frustration.

“Agh, Hells. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” He said with a somber-ness in his voice.

“Are you… alright?” I asked, concerned about his anti-social behavior. I had hoped that he would take the time to enjoy himself tonight, especially considering the duty he felt towards these tieflings that let him take refuge with them in the grove. He had contributed toward their ability to travel safely out of the grove and towards Baldurs Gate, that was worth celebrating.

“In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood, and I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.” He was silent for a moment, his eyes steering downwards. I could tell he had more to say, but was lost in thought.

“... I’m a devil. I love the people from the grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays.” He looked up from the ground, wheeling his arm back and skipping a stone across the water, avoiding eye contact with me. “You don’t want a devil at your party.” He said with finality in his voice as the stone hopped twice across the water before sinking below. The ripples it created disrupted the perfect reflection of the moon in the water’s surface.

“Are you sure about that? The “Devil” Karlach seems to be the life of the party.” I said jokingly.

Wyll finally stopped avoiding eye contact as he glared at me with an eyebrow raised. “We both know better than to call her a devil, now.” He said, recognizing my playful jab at him.

“But no, actual Devils are unwelcome party guests. Claws will pop the balloons, you see. And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.” He pointed to his mouth, his eyes annoyed and his face grimacing.

“Well just know you don’t unsettle me. These tieflings have some… traumatic history around devils. But know that you are still you- the person who defended them. You aren’t the one who plunged their home into Avernus.” I spoke with a clarity I wanted him to take note of. I spoke factually. Just because he was of the same race as the evil bastards who sank Elturel doesn’t mean he was responsible. I think most of the tieflings recognized that. It would be the same kind of generalization that citizens of Elturel made against the tieflings- the very same reason they were ousted from their home. Just because they were a race related to demons didn’t make them responsible for the tragic fate of their city.

“If only half the world had half the heart you do.” He said, cracking a half-smile at my words.

“Now, off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.” He gestured towards Alfira who was gathering more of a crowd now, hopping along to the beat of her tune as she played.

“Alright. I won’t push you to come back to the party. But don’t be a stranger, you are welcome here - devil or otherwise.” I looked at him earnestly, and I could have sworn I saw his cheeks flush as he averted his gaze towards the ground once again.

The Blade of Frontiers - shy? Who would have thought. I just waved at him politely and excused myself as he was left alone with his thoughts. He was still grappling with his whole situation and I didn’t want to interrupt him despite my wishes he would take part in the merriment.

The smile that was on Alfira’s face as she performed for her tiefling friends was irresistible, so I couldn’t help but join the crowd that danced around her as she sang. My dancing was… rusty, but half of the crowd was so drunk on firewine that it didn’t seem to matter. It was all good fun. The music was lively, the night sky was clear and bright, and the company was pleasant. Certainly a night to remember. It made me forget our bleak situation and appreciate the people around me - all of whom I had only met days prior, but had become staples in my life. I wouldn’t forget these moments, even if they were among my last, I would treasure them.

It wasn’t until deep into the hours of the night that the guests had begun to tire, and the effects of the wine began to wane that Zevlor managed to gather the group and herd them back to the grove. They would head out towards the city in the morning, so long as their hangovers didn’t hold them back. I’m sure Zevlor would keep them in line. I watched as he so gently looked after the ones who were particularly influenced by drink, seeing them out of the camp and ensuring they didn’t trip and fall on any stray rocks or tree roots. He smiled at me as he left, gratitude in his eyes. I smiled back and waved as he made his way out of camp.

Looking around, most of my traveling companions were getting cozy in their tents, their bodies radiating with the warmth of several glasses of firewine each. Karlach’s tent was even warmer than normal, just walking by to check on her felt like I was approaching a bonfire.

“Goodnight, Soldier! Get some rest, you partied pretty hard.” Karlach smiled at me as she stretched out on her bedroll.

“Or did I catch you getting friendly with Gale…? Maybe you won’t be sleeping after all…” Karlach sang playfully, winking at me. I felt my already flush face grow warmer with embarrassment.

“Oh- I-” I stuttered, unsure how to respond. “He just- we were-”

Karlach put her hands up as if in surrender. “I’m not judging. He’s charming, no doubt. At least someone is getting some action around here.” Karlach poked fun at her own inability to “get physical”. Past her jokes, I could tell she was happy to have companions who cared about her even if it wasn’t romantic.

I smiled at her awkwardly, unsure how to respond. It was no use protesting, it would only make me seem more guilty in her eyes. “Goodnight, Karlach.” I said, giving her a playful eyeroll. She chuckled and shut her eyes.

Shadowheart wasn’t at her tent, likely enjoying that bottle of wine she had squirreled away. I trusted she would be back by daybreak.

Surprisingly, Astarion was at camp still, asleep soundly. I think he may have even turned in early. I wondered how much longer he would be out for.

Lae’zel was asleep, an empty wine bottle beside her head. She had certainly enjoyed herself.

Wyll had returned to his tent after hearing the excitement die down, his eyes weary with exhaustion.

“Goodnight, Tav.” He said to me as he crawled into his tent.

“G’night.” I said softly in return.

Everybody had turned in for the night. The camp was quiet, apart from the faint chirping of crickets and the soft crackles of smoldering embers on the campfire. My heart sped and my stomach turned as I thought about going to meet Gale for the “magic lesson” he promised. I had anticipated just a teaching moment, a learned wizard sharing his wealth of knowledge with a magic initiate. However, Karlach’s teasing was really getting in my head. Was there something more to Gale and I’s relationship? Romance at a time like this was certainly inopportune. There was the possibility of us becoming monsters overnight, any one of us. Our lives were in serious danger. Then again, that risk left little time for courtship, what other choice was there than to be forward?

I settled my speeding thoughts and made my way to Gale’s tent in the corner of camp. Romantic or otherwise, I was grateful to learn anything he could offer to teach me. Using my own magic was something I didn’t really consider while in battle, I had such little control over it. Even less familiarity with it as a whole. Gale’s back was turned to me as I approached him, his focus fixated on something. I arched my neck to try and see what it was he was doing, and I saw a glowing visage hovering above his outstretched palm. It was a glowing magical bust of a woman, her features striking and elegant. Her beauty was apparent, with powerful looking eyes and her features dripping with femininity. I caught a glance of his face as he stared at the levitating vision he had conjured, his expression filled with longing and regret. He didn’t notice me approach.

“Who is that?” I asked softly, trying not to startle him.

His eyes widened at the sound of my voice, and with a snap of his fingers, the floating visage of the woman disappeared.

“Oh! My, you startled me. I… I was miles away…” He said, shaking his head as to re-situate himself in reality.

“I’m sorry if I was interrupting.” I apologized upon seeing the embarrassed look on Gale’s face.

“No, it’s alright. I was lost in prayer, of all things.” He said, his eyes still resounding with a look of longing.

“Mystra, for indeed it was her image I conjured, commands all magic. Salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold. And yet, even now, more than I fear losing my own self and soul, I fear losing my command of her art.” He spoke plainly and with raw emotion, as if his innermost fears and thoughts were bubbling to the surface. Likely a residual effect those last glasses of wine had on him. Although, he was always rather verbose anyways wasn’t he?

I recalled him mentioning Mystra before. I knew she was the goddess of magic, but her likeness was represented differently depending on the temple or the tome. Her goal was to spread magic across the realms, to have all people wield it. My parents used to pray to her when they were desperate, hoping that I would be granted the talent of a mage. I felt my stomach twist at the thought of my parents, of the shame I felt when they would kneel at the statue of Mystra at the Stormshore Tabernacle. I recalled standing there behind them when I was young, staring up at the goddess’s statue in silence. I wasn’t sure what to say to her, whether to beg at her feet or to damn her to the Hells for denying me what I was told was my birthright. Gale’s voice snapped me out of my train of thought.

He stared at his hands, the tools for which he used to channel the Weave, fear in his eyes.

“Magic is… my life. I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing like it. It’s like music, poetry, physical beauty, all rolled into one and given expression through the senses.”

He waved his hands as if casting a spell, his face alight with joy as he spoke about his one true passion. His love, his life’s dedication - Magic. It was a rare thing to behold, someone with such a devotion who could put it into words in such a picturesque way. He felt strongly about the teachings of Mystra, her will to deliver magic to the realm. He was proud to be able to wield such a talent, and like the goddess he wanted to spread such a gift.

His eyes glittered with passion and excitement as he looked up at me.

“Would you like to experience this?”

The way he asked was almost sultry.

I was unable to help a smile from creeping across my lips as his glittering eyes were locked on me awaiting my answer.

“A lesson from you? Certainly.”

“Then follow my lead.” He said with a half smile and a sly look. He brought his shoulders back and kept his eyes locked on me as he shifted positions to stand beside me. He was making sure I was paying attention.

He straightened his back and raised his hands, still maintaining eye contact. He took a deep breath in and looked forward, moving his left and right hands as if making a snowball out of thin air. As he did so, a sparkle of purple light flickered between his palms, its aura reminiscent of the spells my father used to cast. A sickly-sweet taste teased my tongue as it blinked into and out of existence in a moment.

“Now you.” He pointed an elbow towards me expectantly.

I felt fear creep up my throat. I was so out of my element, his unrelenting gaze watching my every move. Talk about performing under pressure. I took a deep breath, straightened my spine and brought my shoulders back, unable to help myself from looking at him out of the corner of my eye self-consciously. Did I look stupid? What if I couldn’t do it? Ugh, I really didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of him. I just want… to wield magic properly. Screw it, I can do this. Just copy him - pretend like you’re making a snowball. Like you did in the training grounds during Alturiak when amongst classmates.

I steadied myself, hearing my heartbeat pound in my head. Closing my eyes, I tried to copy his movements. I doubted it was a very graceful motion, but my eyes shot open when I felt a spark from my fingertips. The same sickly sweet taste flooded my senses and a purple light sparkled before me. I had done it!

The sickly sweet taste shifted into something sweet but warm and comforting, like a mug of hot cocoa I also recalled enjoying on the snowy days of Alturiak.

“Excellent.” Gale encouraged. “Now repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao.”
The ancient words rolled off of his tongue with ease, as if he had said them a thousand times over. As he spoke I felt their power, resonating in the air between us like the ripples created by the stones Wyll had skipped across the nearby lake.

I cleared my throat, once again closing my eyes to focus.

“Ah-Thran… Mystra-Ryl… Kantrach-Ao.” I repeated, slowly but deliberately. My heart raced with fear, dreading making a mistake in the delicate process. Magic had the potential to unmake whatever was in its path if not harnessed correctly, or wielded by the wrong soul. It was a lesson that I had always been taught at the Citadel- but it never applied to the likes of me.

As my lips parted, the chant rippled between us, the air glittering as I spoke the final word. The sweet comforting taste that lingered on my tongue was accompanied by the scent of rosewater. I could feel the magic altering my emotions as I felt calm and safe, my fear and anxiety of looking foolish or messing up no longer taking up the forefront of my mind.

“Very good!” Gale said, almost sounding impressed. “Now- I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can.” He explained, his focus now split between me and upholding the spell we had begun to cast together.

Harmony? I thought on the request for a moment when the perfect image came to me. I closed my eyes, imagining the peaceful music of the High Forest, the wind whistling a soothing tune and the melody carried out by the songbirds in the highest trees of the deep woods. I would lie there amongst the dew of the sweetgrasses and listen to the song of nature whenever I had a moment out of sight of my parents. I was grateful to escape the bustle of the township and the schoolyard.

As I opened my eyes, hazy purple wisps of magic floated in the air around us, moving through the air slowly and gracefully. I could feel the presence of a woman, as if she were beside us. Closing my eyes, I could see her- the same features as the visage that had hovered over Gale’s palm and the same decorated robes that had graced the statue I stood before as a child. We were nestled in the cup of Mystra’s hand, safe under her watchful eye. Her presence was undeniable, despite the fact she wasn’t physically there. As the spell circled around us, I felt something awaken inside of me. A warm sensation, like a ray of sunlight, started in my toes and slowly crept up my leg, as if I stood before a sunrise - but the sky was dark with night. Before long, my whole body was warmed as if I had been soaking in a hot spring. I was suddenly more acutely aware of the spell that Gale and I were concentrating on, feeling the magic channel itself through my body and escaping through my palms. The magic that came from within me shifted as I concentrated on it, the sugar-y taste gaining an earthen spice, like cinnamon. This was magic of a different type than Gale’s, but it blended with his own power nicely. Like a mixed co*cktail, our magic combined to complete the cast, their auras complementing one another.

The spell itself made it feel like we had walked into a reserved and solitary corner of peace. Within the magical circle, the sound of the crickets was muffled and the cold of the night was shielded. A tingle of excitement shivered through me, like the anticipation of a kiss. It was sprinkled amongst the peace and the calm that the magic provided, as if something else was fated to occur.

Gale laughed as he looked around at the swirling purple haze that encircled us, beaming with pride.

“You did it! You’re channeling the Weave. How does it feel?” He turned towards me, giddy like a child on Shieldmeet.

As he looked towards me, I realized just how close he had been standing. He wasn’t hiding the pride in his expression as he eagerly awaited my response, his eyes scanning my face to try and discern how I felt about dipping my fingers into the Weave.

“Amazing… I-” I began to speak, but I almost had to hold back tears. This is something I had wanted to do all my life. Would I admit that to Gale? Would I share such a vulnerability with this man I still felt like I hardly knew?

“You’re a wonderful teacher.” I said, shifting my train of thought. I concentrated on soaking in the feeling of casting magic. The buzz at my fingertips, the warmth making its way up my forearm, the calm and evenly spaced beats of my heart as it focused itself on the power of the Weave.

“Oh, I know.” Gale said with a grin, letting the pride of the successful lesson fluff his ego just a bit.

I turned towards him, smile wide, feeling the spell connecting the two of us. We had casted it together, both of us cloaked in the peaceful nook of Mystra’s creation. We were in the same space physically and spiritually, closer to one another than we had ever been. I felt my heart selfishly yearn for such an experience never to end. Such safety, such close companionship… such intimacy.

I felt a mental recognition as Gale and I looked into one another’s eyes and I drew closer to him. I felt as if the only place more safe than standing beside him was to be in his arms, protected in his embrace. Did he feel the same? Our bodies and spirits were in the same place… as were our very minds. The Weave was making us one. Anything I could imagine, any image or fantasy I could dream of… would be shared with the person beside me. It was different from the psychic connection of the tadpoles, which felt invasive and tinged with ill-intent. This connection we shared within the Weave was soft and welcoming, like a shared pillow.

I felt my heart quicken as we looked at one another, the beautiful shimmer of the spell creating a magical backdrop against the night sky. His smile was so endearing, full of pride and contentment. I could see flecks of purple light shine in his eyes and reflect off of the silver of his earring. I felt my knees buckle as a light breeze wafted Gale’s scent of berry wine and mahogany towards me. It complemented the rosewater scent of the spell quite well. I suddenly realized Gale’s presence occupied the majority of my senses and found that I couldn’t help myself, the daydreams that I brushed aside during our travels resurfacing without a chance for me to stop them. The thought of Gale’s muscled arm brushing against mine, him lifting his finger below my chin and gazing into my eyes. His look filled with care, with love, with the same passion that glinted in his glare as when he would talk about magic. He would draw me in for a tender kiss, and as our lips met and our bodies drew close, the tender moment would expand into one of passion and devotion.

As soon as my innermost desires were exposed to the forefront of my mind, I felt all the blood in my body rush to my face as I must have blushed as red as an imp.

“I…” Gale began, his voice soft and gentle, yet hesitant. “I didn’t think…”

I kept my gaze locked on him as I saw him experience a range of emotions in a matter of seconds. His face was confused and shocked, but I could feel his embarrassment match my own despite the lack of pink on his cheeks. I felt his trepidation, unsure if my thoughts were intentional or in error.

He looked back at me, searching for an answer with his eyes, with his own mind, to see if what I had imagined was in fact my desire. It only took a moment for my true intentions to reveal themselves - they were plain as day at that point. I was unable to put up such a shield of secrecy as Shadowheart. His trepidation shifted into elation, a childlike smile plastered to Gale’s face.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting…” He turned his eyes toward the ground, avoiding eye contact, but still smiling to himself. “But it is a pleasant image- to be sure!” He looked back at me, a little panicked as if he had offended me in some way.

I just smiled in response, still feeling the heat across my face as I blushed like a bard caught without their breeches.

“Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome.” His panic subsided as he spoke with reassurance and clarity. His hand grazed my arm lightly in a comforting way. He was happy I had been so forward, albeit unintentionally.

My embarrassment only grew as he spoke and his deep brown eyes looked into mine. I felt myself try so hard to maintain eye contact with him, but my own impulsions caused me to look away, turning my gaze toward the ground, unable to face him after feeling a little too exposed.

As our eye contact broke, the floating haze around us fell, the sweet taste on our tongues and the warm safety in our hearts evaporating. The still quiet of the night gripped us in an instant, comparatively cold to the warmth of Mystra’s hand. The chill gave me goosebumps. The spiritual and mental connection I had shared with Gale was wiped away, as were our smiles.

Gale let out a soft sigh as he looked around us.

“There it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were in the obtaining.” He said somberly. I looked around us, disappointed that it had already ended. I craved to feel the buzz of magic on my palms once more. It was strange, despite the spell ending and the magic dissipating from the camp, I felt the taste of cinnamon linger on my tongue.

“Goodnight. I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you.” Gale said, looking at me with a soft smile.

My heart melted at his words, his voice like the smooth tone of a viola. I smiled back, waving shyly, my voice caught somewhere in the ether as I failed to find something to say to him. Gods, how would I face him in the morning?

He walked back to his tent slowly and I turned to my own bedroll. I had thought that I caught him looking back at me out of the corner of my eye, but it may have just been my imagination.

As I sprawled on my bedroll, my eyes were drawn to the night sky. It was beginning to lighten now, the stirring of birds in the trees told me morning would come soon. Thank the gods for my elven genetics, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to function come daybreak. Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift to thoughts of Gale and I, side by side. I imagined we were curled up by a crackling hearth, an ancient, esoteric tome between us…

Chapter 12: The Dawn Breaks

Chapter Text

I awoke to the feeling of a soft warm tongue drag its way across my face, opening my eyes to a vision of white fur and two warm brown eyes peering into my own. Scratch was standing over me, his tail wagging relentlessly and his tongue lolled out.

I sat up from my bedroll, petting him behind his ears.

“Good Morning, boy! You hungry? Didn’t get enough scraps last night?” I said, laughing as his wiggly tail swished back and forth.

I was startled as the taste of cinnamon covered my tongue, leaving a soft tingle in my mouth.

“Yes, please! It smells like breakfast!” An excited male voice echoed, but I didn’t recognize it. It hadn’t been the voice of any of the members in camp.

I looked around frantically, searching for an intruder, a little panicked.

Scratch put a paw on my leg in comfort as I whipped my head around wildly back and forth. There was nobody near my bedroll…

“Is everything alright, master?” The voice arose again. “Master?”

My eyes widened, turning to look at Scratch who was staring at me intently, his paw still sitting on my leg.

“Scratch did you… just call me master?” I spoke quietly, trying not to wake the camp members still getting some rest. I was certain some of them would be hung over from the revelry. Maybe I was still feeling the effects too- I was suddenly convinced a dog was talking to me.

“I… I guess I did. You have come to mean a great deal to me.” Scratch layed down and put his head on my lap, his eyes looking up at me shyly, his tail wagging faster. It was in fact Scratch’s voice that echoed in my head, his muzzle not moving but his voice clear as day.

“I can understand you… much clearer than I could before. It’s as if you speak Sylvan!” I said to him, laughing and petting his head. He panted happily out as he thoroughly enjoyed the affection.

What could have possibly allowed for this ability? Did someone spike the drinks last night with a potion?

My thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps. Scratch stood quickly, his ears pricked up and pointed towards the sound. I could see his leg muscles activate, as if he was preparing to lunge at any incoming intruder.

From around the corner came Gale, a frying pan in one hand and a wooden spoon in another. He was dressed in his purple velvet-y nightclothes, the morning sun giving them a regal-looking sheen.

“Ah, you’re awake. Care for some eggs?” He asked, gliding the spoon over the eggs that sizzled in the pan.

Scratch drooled at the scent of the food. It did smell good.

I pushed down the embarrassment that bubbled within me at the sight of him. How ridiculous it was of me to imagine something so frivolous as sharing a kiss last night when we had so much more pressing matters at hand.

”I’d love some.” I managed to respond, grateful for the offer. “Got any spare for Scratch?” I asked as I got up from my sleeping position.

“I think I can let go of some for the little bugger, sure.” Gale said, winking at an excited and salivating Scratch.

“Thank you, Magus!” Scratch said, happily prancing behind us as we both walked towards the campfire.

“Did… did you hear him?” I asked Gale, hesitantly. Did I sound crazy?

“Hear who? Scratch? It’s hard not to hear his bark, I’m surprised the camp is still sleeping.” Gale said with a chuckle. He cracked another egg into the pan that sizzled above the fire.

Hmm. So that disproved the theory about the wine being spiked- Gale had taste tested all the vintages he could find last night- I was sure.

“He called you a “magus”.” I said as I sat on a log by the fire. Gale looked up from his frying pan and stared at me curiously, his furrowed brow clearly showing his confusion.

“You… understand him?” Gale asked for clarification.

“I… Well yes. I suppose I do. As of this morning. Can dogs speak Sylvan?” I asked, half joking but half genuinely curious.

Gale laughed. “Can’t say that they do. But people can speak with animals if they are to utilize magic. Did you do some spellcasting without me?” He feigned offense at the idea. He created banter so effortlessly I wondered if he recalled the awkwardness of last night’s events.

I chuckled at his joke, but was also confused by his answer. I didn’t cast anything, I wouldn’t begin to know how.

“I couldn’t have, I don’t know the incantation.” I said with certainty.

Gale’s eyes lit up with realization. “Well- there is one instance where you wouldn’t need an incantation…” He began. I fixed my focus on him as I saw him scan through the library of his memory.

“It would be the result of an intrinsic Primal Magic. The magic of Druids.” He explained, pointing his wooden spoon at me.

Druids? The only druid at camp was Halsin, and he was still asleep.

“Halsin isn’t awake yet, this couldn’t be his doing.” I said, brushing off Gale’s explanation.

“Tav, I don’t think it’s Halsin, either. I think it must be you. You must be a druid.” Gale looked at me, not a doubt in his gaze. His eyes glinted with the lightest touch of admiration.

“A druid? Me?” I said in disbelief. I had always admired druids, seeing their raw and natural power being used always put me in a state of awe. The druids in the High Forest impressed me to no end, and the druids in the grove only further proved the power one could have when communing with the spirits of the earth.

“Yes, you.” Gale said smiling. “You know- I recognized a twinkle in your touch as we shared that moment in the weave last night. It was an unfamiliar twinkle, however. Not the same as the arcane impression of a Wizard or Sorcerer. It was primal. I’m certain of it.”

I felt my heartbeat resonate through every limb at his mention of our moment of magic, letting his words slowly sink in. I could hardly believe it. All this time I was cursing myself for being unable to cast magic, unable to replicate the spells my parents thrust upon me. When unbeknownst to me… I was meant to be channeling my magic through the beauty of the world around me. Serving nature and protecting it for future generations- as Halsin so nobly did. I sat around the fire in silence, in awe and disbelief. Gale focused on his cooking, letting me sit with my thoughts. Every move he made was calm and composed as I felt like a shaking leaf - pent up with anxious energy.

After a few minutes of quiet, he handed me a spoon and wooden bowl with some fried eggs inside, some herbs sprinkled over the top.

“Food for thought.” He said cleverly, cracking a smile at his own wit.

I looked over at Scratch who was already munching on some scraps that Gale had left in the frying pan and so generously put on the ground for him. Gratefully I took the bowl Gale offered and dug in as he sat beside me.

“Unbelievable.” I said between bites, my brain still racking through the realization of my identity.

“Not so unbelievable. You have great talent, both magical and otherwise. It’s no wonder you’re a druid. They’re known for being quite well-rounded.” Gale said matter-of-factly as he munched on his own breakfast.

He spoke so nonchalantly, but what he said was such a massive compliment I felt my heart skip. He was so learned himself- he said he was once an archmage and he thought I was talented? I had to calm myself before I began to blush.

“I… I thank you.” I said, pausing my meal to look at him sincerely.

He looked back as he was chewing on his breakfast, slight surprise on his face as I had spoken with such sentiment. He quickly swallowed his bite so he could respond properly.

“You’re thanking me? For what?” He asked, baffled. I was stricken with deja-vu as I recalled him thanking me out of the blue after drinking too much wine at the party.

“For teaching me magic last night. I had…” My voice trembled, my words loaded with emotion. I couldn’t cry in front of him- he thinks I’m strong!

“I had been trying to cast magic for years. Last night was one of the few times I had ever succeeded. Not only that- but now you’ve gone and shown me I am likely a druid?!” I scoffed in disbelief at my own words.

“You have no idea how much weight you have lifted from my shoulders - how many doors you have just opened for me.” I said, taking a deep breath of relief.

He smiled at me, humbled by my words and happy to see my tension ease.

“No need to thank me. It was in you all along. You just needed a little push.” He playfully shifted his weight to one side and bumped his shoulder into me.

We both laughed as I wobbled in my seat. He was leaning so close to me, now. My thoughts shifted into the daydream I shared with him, imagining a tender kiss between us. I couldn’t stop myself from taking a quick glance at his lips. As soon as I realized what I was doing I corrected my gaze, looking up at his eyes. This was no time to- wait. Did he… just glance at my lips? His eyelids were lowered, but his eyes weren’t closed. Maybe he was just tired? He didn't have elven blood like me- he needed a full night's rest, which there was not time for after our magic lesson. I was about to assume he was just a little groggy, when he slowly leaned in closer, a rosy glow on his cheeks. My heart raced, a familiar feeling of anticipation rushing through my body, was he… could he be about to…?

“Ah! You’ve started on breakfast!” A warm, deep voice boasted, footsteps sounding on the dirt of the campsite.

Gale and I both tensed at the sound, whipping our heads toward the voice. Approaching the campfire stood a towering Halsin, still in his nightwear. Well… if you could call it nightwear. He wore a pair of brown linen breeches with gold embellishment going up the sides, and was bare-chested. I noticed the scar resembling the slash of a bear’s claws streaked across his chest. It mimicked the smaller scar on his face that spread from his forehead to his cheekbone. He was lucky to still have an eye. His whole body was built like an Orc. I had never seen an Elf with such a figure, he was more muscular than even the strongest Elven warriors I had met during all my training. Halsin was much more brawny compared to the dexterous and lean typical build of male Elves. I must have looked like a fool as I was fixated on his broad shoulders and pronounced chest muscles, but they were certainly hard to miss.

Gale cleared his throat. “Would you like a fried egg, Halsin?” He asked, holding up a wooden spoon in offering.

Halsin smiled wide. “It smells delicious! I’d love one. It’s so nice to be out in the depths of nature again, the grove was getting far too comfortable for me.” He said, taking a seat beside the fire.

Gale got up from beside me to start frying some more eggs, and as soon as he stood I longed for him to be close again. I brushed away the feeling, trying to align my focus elsewhere.

“Too comfortable? You prefer sleeping in the dirt and eating only goodberries to survive?” I asked Halsin playfully.

He let out a low chuckle. “On occasion, I do. I feel that I am being called by the Treefather to explore new paths. It is no coincidence we met during my research of the tadpoles. All of these mindflayer spawn have become far too commonplace- it is disrupting the balance of nature.” Halsin explained.

He was right. The fact that there are so many of us infected- and so many that are infected unconsciously spells real trouble. The false cult of the “Absolute” threatens to overthrow the gods of the realms - the Treefather included. To stop it all from continuing is a good first step towards the ultimate goal - being absolved of the parasite altogether.

“You said the Treefather was calling you to explore more, how long have you heard his voice?” I asked, curious about the druidic religion. I may as well start learning all I could about druids so that I may understand the roots of my magic clearly.

Halsin looked at me quizzically. “Silvanus? Hm, well now I recognize I have known him all my life, but I think that early on I failed to realize it was him. He materializes on this plane in many ways, some of which are less conventional than others.” Halsin went on, staring off somewhere distant as he spoke, obviously being transported into a memory. He shook his head as he found himself back in reality.

“Have you no alignment with a particular deity?” Halsin turned to me curiously.

Gale’s attention was shifted from the frying pan he held over the fire and looked towards me after the question Halsin posed. It seemed he was curious to know the answer too.

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. I felt a little targeted, both of them were obviously very dedicated to their respective deities.

“Ah, I…” I began, but realized I wasn’t sure how to answer. I had always been brought to the temple to pray to Mystra since I was young, but I never felt her call out to me until just last night with Gale as the conduit.

“I had been raised to worship the goddess Mystra in my childhood… but I’m unsure if she is the goddess that would best steward me.” I explained. I saw Gale purse his lips and avert his attention back to the eggs frying over the campfire. Probably not what he wanted to hear.

“I see.” Halsin said, pondering my response. “Well, if you’d like to know anything more about Silvanus and his teachings, do not hesitate to ask.” He looked at me with a warm smile and an expression of understanding.

“For you, good sir.” Gale said, tipping the frying pan into Halsin’s bowl and serving up two piping hot fried eggs.

“Thank you, Gale. Much appreciated.” Halsin said with a smile, and began to dig in.

“If you’ll both excuse me, I have a few tasks to complete this morning before we head out.” Gale said, nodding at the two of us courteously as he hastened back to his tent.

I hope I hadn’t offended him.

Halsin then turned to me as he continued to eat his breakfast.

“I wonder if he’ll be catching up on some sleep, he did seem a bit tired around his eyes.” Halsin observed once Gale was out of earshot. I smiled to myself, remembering Nettie saying the same thing about me when she had examined my health in the grove’s infirmary. She must have adopted the same verbage as her mentor.

“Could be.” I said wistfully, recalling how late we were up practicing magic.

“Did you enjoy your evening?” Halsin asked politely.

I looked up at him, quickly pushing aside my Gale-ridden daydreams. I don’t need to embarrass myself over being love-struck in front of an archdruid.

“I did, It was a luxury I’m sure we won’t have for a while yet. I'm glad we enjoyed it whilst we could.” I said with a grin.

“There is much to be done, and I promised I would help you however I could. I’m certain a cure can be found for you at Moonrise Towers, but it’s… complicated. The journey specifically- it’s extremely perilous.” Halsin began, setting down his fork. His face wore a serious look and the tone of his voice deepened, making the gravelly vocal fry of his still awakening voice more apparent.

“Perilous how?” I asked. I was glad someone had a direction to point us in to find a solution to our tadpoles, but afraid to find out what we had to go through to get there.

“To get to the Towers, you’ll need to pass through a terrible place - a cursed place. This curse surrounds everything in shadow- you will not find life, light, or anything natural there. Any who linger are twisted by the curse; they become shadow beings- tormented, dangerous souls.”

“How can the forces of the cult survive there?” I asked, confused.

“I don’t know how. You will have to choose your approach carefully. You could go overland- along the Risen Road or through the mountains. Easier at first, but you will run into the shadow curse eventually. You could also go under.” Halsin explained, peaking my curiosity. He must have taken note of my undivided attention as he straightened his spine.

“There is a tunnel- somewhere in that ruined temple of Selune that the goblins desecrated. It leads to Moonrise Towers through the Underdark.” At the mention of the Underdark, I barely detected a hint of discomfort in Halsin’s eyes. Did he not like the Underdark? I had never been there, myself. I had only heard the grim history of the dark elves who lived there that I was taught in elven classrooms.

“Why would a temple of Selune have a tunnel leading down there?” I asked, familiar with followers of Selune and their affinity towards the moon. You couldn’t see the sky from the underdark as far as I knew.

Halsin drew in a deep breath, his eyes wavering as he scanned his mind recalling a history- or could it be a memory?

“Long ago, a man called Ketheric Thorm built a secret stronghold deep down there, before rallying a whole army of Dark Justiciars- Shar worshippers. Aradin and his lot were looking for a way down there too- they were promised riches if they retrieved a relic called the Nightsong. But I believe there’s more. From this stronghold, Ketheric’s forces could access both the temple and Moonrise Towers - but he was defeated before he could launch such an attack. If you can find this place, I’ll wager it will reveal a more direct path to Moonrise Towers and may even bypass the worst of the shadow curse.”

I took a moment to absorb the information he offered. Dark Justiciars? I seemed to recall reading something about them. I paused in thought, the image suddenly making itself known in my mind. There were plaques and tapestries in the Druid’s Grove about the Emerald Enclave druids banding together with another guild to fight off the Justiciar Shar worshippers. It was a recount of history from long ago, at least a century. Could Halsin have been… a part of that battle?

I was tempted to ask him directly, but was unsure if he would want to recount such an experience. Before I could open my mouth- he spoke directly.

“I would like to join your camp, if you’ll allow me. I can offer my skills, my counsel.” He looked at me with unwavering intent.

“What about the Emerald Grove?” I asked, concerned we would be taking the leader of a band that so clearly admired Halsin greatly.

“I’ve already chosen a successor as First Druid. A bird has already been dispatched to summon her.” He smiled with pride.

“A successor? From outside the grove? Who have you chosen?” I was surprised he did not promote someone like Rath, who had so vehemently disapproved of Kagha’s hostility towards young Arabella. He seemed like a good leader.

“The grove needs to move beyond the mistakes of the past. What it needs is an unknown quantity; an outsider who can enforce the Oak Father’s teachings without bias.” explained Halsin. His words were wise.

“That is why I have chosen Francesca of the High Forest. She will restore simplicity and purity to the grove in my absence.”

My eyes widened in disbelief. Memories of the cool breeze and birdsong of the High Forest flooded back, the golden glimmer of a young druid girl’s magic blessing me as I stood before her. It couldn’t possibly be… yet there was no chance it was anyone else. She was
the girl that I had met in the forest as a child.

“Francesca… have you… met her?” I began, trying to regain my composure.

“I have, but only in passing. Before I settled in the Emerald Grove I would find myself in the High Forest often. It is a wondrous place, nature running rampant and free around every corner. It is completely unburdened by the walls of civilization, only the occasional alcove or rural township.” He spoke of the place with wonder in his voice and sparkle in his eyes. It was a place he loved and longed to return to. I suppose I could relate in that sense.

“I haven’t seen her in so long. I wonder if she would remember me…” I said softly, hoping she might recall our fateful encounter. There was no doubt in my mind she knew all along of my druidic abilities.

Halsin looked perplexed. “Remember you?” He asked.

I looked up at him thoughtfully, brimming with happiness at the thought I might see her again. It had been years.

“I met her when we were just children. She had such a grasp on magic even at such a young age- she was someone I looked up to.” I explained, recalling her fiery red hair standing out against the verdant surroundings of the forest.

“I have heard tale of her primal magic prowess.” Halsin said in agreement. “Although, I had no idea you frequented the High Forest. I’m surprised we had never met before as I acquainted myself with the druid circles there. I often visited the gravestones of my family beneath the Grandfather tree.”

I felt a pang in my gut at the thought I might have known I was a druid sooner, and a sadness to hear that Halsin had no family left but those buried in the High Forest. It’s as if I had missed an opportunity my whole life by not crossing paths with someone like Halsin earlier on, and Halsin had missed out on a friend he could have confided in while coping with the passing of his kin. From how he spoke about it, though, he had lost them long ago and he had come to bear the wounds they left in their parting.

“Oh, I wasn’t part of a druidic circle. I was in a small township there, before my family moved to Baldur’s Gate. They wanted me to go to school to hone my sorcery skills.” I said, rolling my eyes at the thought.

Halsin let out a lively laugh. “Sorcery, eh? Were they aware of your Primal gift?” He said matter-of-factly. How could he have known? Gale had only just told me! I hadn’t revealed it to anyone, I hadn’t had time to!

“What? How- how did you-?” I stuttered, flabbergasted at the fact he was able to discern the origins of my abilities so easily.

“Don’t underestimate the discerning eye of an archdruid, Tav. Or, the well trained nose of a Cave Bear for that matter.” He said with a smile, referencing the form I had discovered him in when I had rescued him from the Goblin prison.

“You can smell primal magic?” I asked in disbelief.

“As a being who is intimately familiar with the workings of Primal Magic and who prefers the form of a Cave Bear rather than of an elf, I can sense the gift of Primal Magic on others. They are typically also aware of their abilities, however.” He remarked.

I felt myself shrink, a little ashamed and embarrassed at the fact I was unable to recognize my own abilities sooner. I didn’t like that I had to rely on others to tell me about my own gift. Halsin must have seen the frustration on my face.

“Tav, It is a wonderful gift you have. It doesn’t matter if you are not trained in it, it is never too late to learn to wield it.” Halsin came over and sat on the log beside me, laying a hand on my back in comfort. His massive hand left my whole body feeling warmed.

“If you’d like, I’d be happy to train you to channel your Primal Magic. It is an ability best learned with the aid of a mentor- especially when it comes to Wild Shape-ing.” Halsin said kindly, laughing lightly at his own joke.

I twisted my face in thought. He was so kind as to offer to teach me. I recalled Gale's ability to teach me a spell or two -but he was a master of the arcane- the same field of magic that I had failed to replicate all my life. It was Halsin who had the knowledge necessary for me to really grow in my magical ability.

“Halsin, are you certain you’d like to guide me through this? I am an absolute novice - I’d probably have a skill level akin to your youngest of charges.” I explained. He had to know what he was signing up for.

Halsin laughed again, more heartily and wholesome this time. “Tav, If I have learned anything in my 300 years of life, I have most certainly learned patience. You are far more mature than any of the charges I have taught at the grove- there is no chance you will break my resolve.” He assured me.

I smiled at him cheerfully. I was truly grateful for his offer to tutor me. It made me look forward to our travels together all the more. However, my thoughts returned to the fact that Francesca was coming to the grove in a matter of days.

“Do you think… we could go back to the grove? To see Francesca?” I asked, my voice trembling with hope. To see her again… I wonder if she knew how much influence that day had on the trajectory of my life.

“If I get word of her arrival, I will let you know. It would be my pleasure to initiate such a reunion between the two of you.” Halsin said politely.

I would look forward to the day I could thank her for her kindness after all these years...