The chill of the Druid's Chamber cuts a little too well after the heat of the coup behind us. The air is crisp as we enter because it is the extension of a cave system. As such, the chamber is edged with clear, ritualistic pools on either side. The walls themselves have been honed flat by ancient craftsmen and painted with tall, imposing murals. Images that reflect wars waged and won, sacred rituals, and ancient peace pacts. All done in vivid hues and shining with the light of the placid waters.
Kagha sits at the stone table in the center of the chamber, thumbing through curled documents. She's tight-lipped and focused on what's in front of her. She doesn't see us enter.
Bex swiftly climbs the vines to reach her perch, quiet and low. She rests herself on her stomach, eyes sharp and tracking the druids below, bow poised.
A short man with ragged umber hair enters the chamber from the servant's quarters behind Kagha. He immediately sees us and clears his throat. "Kagha..."
"Yes, what is it, Loic?" Her voice is sharp and frustrated. She finally looks up and gets to her feet, startled and defensive. There is an intensity in her brow that lands somewhere between sorrow and false bravado. "You."
My smile isn't doing much to hide my hunger. "Me." My hands twitch. My right knuckles are still spattered with the gore of Maggran's battered head. Loic steps beside her, and I see the spineless druid emerge from Nettie's chambers.
"Have you come to degrade me further? The outlanders remain in the grove. I thought you were going to speak with Zevlor. Why are you here?"
My chest is pounding with feral exhilaration; I close my eyes to steady myself. My voice becomes soft with the effort of holding myself together as the whispers writhe like a tempest in my mind. "Kagha." My heart flutters at her name. "There are many threats on the road to Baldur's Gate, it's what brought my people here to begin with." I glance at the two druids that stand beside her. "They were being slaughtered. Some gave their lives to get the caravan this far."
Loic and Kagha's faces remain unmoved, but the spineless druid winces ever-so-slightly.
"Out in the wilds, the dangers are countless." I pull free my greatsword, raising its blade in condemnation. "Here, the only danger—is you."
The color drains from her face, and Loic quickly runs over to the stone table to arm himself with his club. Before I can take a step forward there is a sudden eruption next to me. An arrow hits the ground and the rat bursts into the form of a halfling.
By Bhaal's black blood, Bex found the shadow druids.
Another rat begins to dash for Kagha. I bring my heel down on it, and with a pop, it transforms into another halfling dressed in the shadow druids’ garb. I catch the sight of a tail disappearing around the table. I drop my greatsword and dive for it, grabbing the little bastard and crushing its body in my hands. Another burst, another shadow druid. He coughs blood that spatters onto my face as he tries desperately to wriggle free from my grasp.
The man is slippery. I quickly bellow to my companions. "Catch them! Don't let them escape!" With a swift kick to my face, the man jerks free, stumbling to his feet. I scramble forward and snatch his foot, dragging him into me.
He's finally pinned beneath me, and I pull my dagger from my cloak, holding the point against the side of his face. "Where is Olodon!?"
He grunts and growls, struggling with every ounce of strength he has. I drag my dagger across his skin, watching the blade peel away at him. His screams are electrifying. I continue to dig away at him, slowly, listening to the changing pitch of his beautiful agony.
Lae'zel has one of the shadow druids locked in a grappling hold. The druid kicks her feet, her arms pinned behind her, head pushed forward, throat compressed. She heaves from the effort of trying to wrench free. "Me! I'm Olodon!" Her voice a guttural snarl, ablaze with frustration.
I stare at the man beneath me and a hungry joy floods me, matching my sadistic grin. My voice hisses cleanly. "Husk." I slide my dagger under his belly and pull upward, carving out skin and fat, exposing the winding silk of innards beneath. His screams reach a crescendo and echo through the chamber as his hands hover over his unveiled viscera.
I climb to my feet, Loic is lying on the ground with several arrows in his chest. Bex's beautiful handiwork. Astarion has the other shadow druid held tight by the hair, dagger at his throat. To my surprise, the spineless druid has Kagha on her knees, his wolf companion threatening her if she dares make a move. I walk up to the man. "You've seen the light, brother. Who do I have the honor of speaking to?"
He's shaking and gives me an uncertain smile. "Rath..."
I match his tentative smile with one of certainty. "Did you know about the shadow druids?"
He looks at Olodon and the two other shadow druids. The gutted druid is dragging himself toward one of the cave pools. Blood trailing behind him.
"N-No... I would have never agreed to this if I had known they were involved."
A splash, as the gutted man throws himself into the sacred waters.
I would assume this man was malicious if malice didn't take forethought and a firm conviction. "Yet, the Rite was salvation when it served a world you understood. A world where you were happy to let my people die. Interesting."
His shoulders tense and he looks down at Kagha. A baptism of shame washes over him. I let the silence stretch, finally walking around Kagha. I pull a length of rope from my cloak, binding her arms, and running a rope through her teeth, gagging her.
I see a subtle movement and glance up to see Bex swiftly stand and aim her bow toward me. In an instant, a shot is fired and hits me square in the shoulder. In the same moment I feel a crack against the back of my head, and I double over.
Adrenalin fills me as I swiftly turn to see another druid, shillelagh already swinging down upon me once again. I catch it, rip it from his hands, and batter him across the face with it. He falls to the ground, blood smearing across his face, teeth falling from his mouth.
Rath inhales. "Markoryl!"
Kagha grunts and tries to climb to her feet but I slam the club across her back with such force that the damn thing snaps. She crumbles under the force of the blow.
The evolving rage within me is overwhelming and I sharply look back at Bex. She's paralyzed with shock and guilt. She wasn't aiming for me; she was aiming for the bastard behind me.
I'm shaking, and I inhale, holding it for a moment. Two. Three. "Bex."
She doesn't move, I grab the arrow and snap the shaft, throwing the fletching to the ground before meeting her eyes once again. "Come here."
As my words unfold in her mind, she jumps and swiftly climbs down. She jogs up to me, reaching out a hand. "Vash! I'm so sorry."
She tries to free the arrow from my chest, but I catch her wrist. "Don't. Leave it."
I look down at the man as he wipes the blood from his face. "What do you want to do with him?"
Markoryl looks at her, dazed and in pain from the battering to his head.
“What do I want to do?”
He finally scrambles to his feet, ready to bolt. I seize him by the hair and drag him down, making him kneel in front of her. I wait patiently as she decides.
Bex is not meek, nor stupid. She understands the implications of the decision in front of her, and she’s not making it lightly. She needs to reconcile the failure in her own way, and I want to give this to her. She finally glances at the shaft still caught in my shoulder. Her face settles into a flat, determined serenity. Her dagger digs it into Markoryl's neck. There is no fear in her eyes, no hesitation once the decision was made. She was being honest. She wants this.
"Pull it out, Bex. Don't make the man suffer."
She hears me but does not pull away, not at first. When it's finally removed, the torrent of blood that follows fills the air with that deliciously familiar metallic scent of death. As I release him, he collapses and begins to convulse.
She doesn't look at me as I approach her and place a hand on her back. Her shoulders roll back as she holsters her dagger, her tail flicking like an indignant cat.
She finally shoots me a glare. “Not now.”
My muscles flinch as I pull away. Her heat scorches the edges of my composure. She's teaching me – bullheaded though I may be.
Rath has his hand over his heart as he watches Markoryl die. My gift to him is redemption. "It's time for you to face your sins. Take Kagha, we need to show the circle the truth."
He looks down at her, pulling her up by the elbow and following me out.
I lead them to the inner sanctum. As I step into the light, I hold out my hand, allowing Rath, Astarion, and Lae'zel to kneel the newest captives in line with the others. Druids and tieflings are scattered across the sanctuary, mingling, a subtle anticipation lingers. People begin to gather as they see us.
Rath tracks the sea of faces and begins to look sickened at what he was willing to sacrifice. He stands behind Kagha, holding her shoulders moreso for leverage for himself. The body of Maggran is laid out near him and his face twists as he tries to cope with the violent imagery.
Lae'zel is focused, her training at Creche Y'lick is shining through. I point to the center of the collective, having her place Olodon in front of the crowd, alone.
Bex stands off to the side as an observer, arms folded, shoulders tense. She's still processing her actions, glancing every now and then at the broken arrow still lodged in my shoulder. I don't feel the pain; the exhilaration has smothered it.
I stand behind Lae'zel and Olodon. My presence commands attention, eyes turning toward me, voices falling silent. I am the dark specter that stifles the brilliance of their vivific ambitions. Time to show them the true cost of peace.
"We can have compassion for those whose only hope is to find safety during times of uncertainty. Now is one of those times. Cults. Goblins." I glance at the prisoners. "Heretics." My voice hisses with condemnation, and a few bodies shift with discomfort.
"The Emerald Grove has survived centuries and has never fallen to strange ways. This will not be the last time you face hardship. It's a pity this circle was almost known as one who buries their heads in the sand."
The druids share a held breath. The silence is rapt and shameful. My voice is patient, but there is power behind my words. "Today, you have absolved yourselves. In that, your honor is not lost."
They witness me as I glance down at Olodon. I'm buzzing with excitement as I place my boot on her back. She pitches forward with a grunt, her legs splayed awkwardly.
"Careful!" She snaps, irritated. A thrill runs through me hearing her voice edged in hope.
I try to keep a solemn face despite my sadistic ecstasy. She thinks this is political theater...
My voice settles into a reverent timbre. "It is time to cleanse the circle so that you may begin again." I reach down and grip her head, fingers pressing tightly into the skin of her face.
"What are you—"
I begin to twist, her neck extending beyond its natural tension. Her screams rattle me with pleasure until her throat compresses, pinching her voice silent. I feel the popping before I hear it. My breath quickens and grows shallow. The purr of Bhaal's approval rushes through me with that familiar static caress. Her skin tears, spine breaks, and with a final rend, her head breaks free from her body. A quiet offering to my Father. Blood nourishes the grass beneath her.
Muffled wailing rises from Kagha as she collapses at the sight of Olodon being torn apart. A druid in the crowd falls to his knees and vomits into the grass. A few are clutching their hands. There is a horrified silence. Eyes wary, as they search me for cause. Several tieflings look away, most don't. I put great effort not to reveal the full-body pleasure overtaking me.
I finally hear a faint voice rise from the crowd. "Wh-When will Halsin be back?"
My hair stands on end. "Halsin?" I search the crowd for the voice, stepping forward. "The man who abandoned you to chase after his flaccid whims?" The crowd takes a step back as I approach, some watching the head tucked under my arm. "The man who put Kagha in charge, when she was not ready to lead." I stare at her, as her chest heaves with anguish. She turns her head away from me, as if I were hells' flames, lapping eagerly at her soul. "The man who wasn't here to protect you when the grove nearly fell to shadow druids." I stare them down. "I came, a foulblood, willing to turn a blind eye to your hate and save you from yourselves. Save you from every poor choice Halsin made."
There is a faint murmur among the druids, and a woman makes her way through the crowd, crouching next to Maggran's body, placing a hand on his tunic. I walk up behind her and place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Halsin is a good man. Brave. Kind. Sagely, even. But there are good men, and there are true leaders."
The woman grips my hand on her shoulder; a shuddering breath escapes her.
I hold Olodon's head high, my offering to the grove. "I make this vow, for as long as I draw breath, I will serve as protector of the Emerald Grove. To uphold salvation when all hope is lost. Pledge your conviction to me, and you will never stray toward wayward paths again."
Two druids approach me, touching the hem of my cloak. One mutters with a reverent undertone. "Peace Bringer..."
With a gentle smile, I bring my hand to the back of their neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. I then return to Olodon's body, propping her head on her back before standing behind the five loyalists. Hooded, bound, and gagged.
I pull Fezzerk's axe from my back. The blade is polished, reflecting the light of the grove over its people. "Who among you will be the arm of mercy to act in the name of Silvanus?"
The silence is mournful, the air is still, until one man steps forward. A former loyalist. A man who will sacrifice pieces of himself to feel safe once again.
"What is your name?"
He has conviction in his voice as he rolls his shoulders back. "Aelar, Ser."
“Aelar.” I respectfully bow, before handing him the axe. He grips it with a sense of duty, mustering pride as best he can.
My eyes turn to Rath. “As acting First Druid, will you bring forward the last shadow druid?”
He looks stunned and doesn’t move at first, looking to me like a lost lamb before turning to the shadow druid bound and kneeling to his left. Slowly he lifts the man to his feet and walks him over to the center of the inner sanctum.
“Aelar, your first duty.”
The man looks down at the shadow druid with hate. He’s taking every bit of shame in his heart, all the fear, the uncertainty, the indoctrination, and absolves himself with this one act. I bend the druid forward with my boot, and Aelar swiftly brings the axe down on his neck. Clear. Measured. In control. His breath is heavy with exhilaration and there isn’t an iota of remorse in his broken eyes.
I turn to the crowd. “Mercy. Mercy for him: a swift, clean death. Mercy on yourselves: to spare you the suffering he wrought. This is what balance truly looks like.”
I walk up to the first loyalist. She is trembling beneath the hood, and I hear quiet sobs. I get down on one knee beside her. “You were led astray at every turn. Will you allow me to guide you back to the path of prosperity?”
She nods vigorously, and I hear a quivering voice, muffled, but sincere. "P-Please... I want to see the light again."
I gently untie her, and as her hands come loose, she doesn't move. Her body is steady, but her hands are visibly shaking as she brings them around in front of her. I finally pull the hood off her. Her cheeks are drenched in tears. Fear overwhelming her, pushing out any sense of who she used to be.
I shift, kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in mine. "You are forgiven." She looks at me, her chin still quivering. I give her a nod and as she stands, I stand with her, steading her so that she may join the others under her own power. Her own dignity. The circle brings her back in. Stroking her back, touching her cheek, forgiving her.
I smile and look to the next druid, offering the same condition for his devotion. He is an older man, and he holds no fear in his heart. "Will you allow me to guide you?"
The man is quiet, muffled under the hood like the first captive, but his voice is stubborn. Prideful. His answer is simple. "I could never follow a man like you."
I bow my head for a moment before looking at Aelar. "I could never disrespect the wishes of a principled man." I rise, holding the sorrow in my heart before placing my boot on his back. Aelar watches me, waiting. I give a nod and the older man swiftly cries, "Wait!" But the axe cleaves his neck, and he goes limp beneath me. I sigh, face somber, though deep down, I am charged with pleasure. Of the three remaining prisoners only one chose the righteous path. A pity.
My heart is in my throat as I finally turn to Kagha. She is lying on her side, sobbing through her nose. I step towards her, and in a bolt of cruelty I'm struck with a cruel realization. I can't kill her. I can't fucking kill her. I've inadvertently made Kagha the symbol of absolution and positioned her as a powerful liaison with the shadow druids.
Tears run down the slick sides of my dark heart. I mourn the kill that I had just robbed myself of. Her pulse is inches from my hungry hands, ones that are now twitching in their insufferable way when they don't get what they want.
Fuuuuuck.
My voice is unsettlingly soft as I finally address her, my inner tantrum quelled. "Kagha."
She lies limp on the ground, exhausted, barely struggling against her binding. Drool dribbles from the rope in her mouth. I bend down and gently lift her up, standing her in front of me. I untie the rope that's gagging her.
"You will not remain in the Emerald Grove. You pose too much of a risk to my circle."
She blinks with frustration, brow furrowed, staring at the ground. I remove the bindings around her wrists. "You will take Olodon's head to Cloakwood. Find your new circle. Let them see the fate of those who stand against me – Against the grove."
She finally looks at me, a blaze of hate cuts through her shame.
I put a tender hand on her shoulder, "May Silvanus guide you on your journey." I place Olodon's head into Kagha's hands and she gasps and tries to drop it, but I grip her wrists before she has a chance.
"Look at her, Kagha. Do not hide from the consequences of your poor leadership. Observe, and learn." My voice hammers her as my grip tightens until her skin turns white.
She grips the head in horror, and I finally let go of her. I turn to Aelar and Lae'zel. "Take her."
I watch Lae'zel as she mirrors Aelar, seizing Kagha by the arms and dragging her to the ivy gate. Lae'zel is finally respecting her position beneath me. I really didn't want to have to kill her. Messy.
My eyes turn to the druids once again. I grip the arrow’s shaft still lodged in my shoulder. My jaw clenches as I rip it free and hold it high for the circle to see. I let a breath out through my teeth and roll my shoulders back. "Today you witnessed balance restored, and a new order grown from the shadows. One of mercy, compassion, and reckoning. With your fealty, I will nurture you." I raise my fingers in a monastic promise. “May it be my solemn vow.”
The reverence starts with a single man. He grips my hand, placing it on his forehead. A quiet but earnest voice. “Peace Bringer.”
I drop the arrow and cup the back of his head, anointing him with the blood of his fallen circle.
An elder woman steps up to me, gently pulling back my cloak and placing her hand over the wound. With a pulse of blue light, my flesh is sealed. The ache retreats and I grip her healing hands in gratitude.
A few more approach, reaching for me, brushing against me, gripping me. Murmurs of thank you. Tears of the indebted. I become encircled by tieflings and druids alike. I meet as many eyes as I can while beholden voices rise around me. The intoxication of their adoration saturates my blighted heart.
Today, I see exactly who I am.