Chpt 6. Our Lady, Sazza
Trigger Warning: Violently Bullying Goblins.
I still feel a little lightheaded but in a strangely euphoric way. The bite didn't seem to unlock any benefits outside of merely draining me of my blood, a pity but still an exciting experience. Astarion also seems to have a skip in his step which is good given what we're up against, anything to keep these people happy so we can keep moving forward. I left them all behind at camp to head back to the hollow for supplies, and to speak to the goblin captive. As I duck into the makeshift prison, I see a woman with a crossbow pointed directly at her. "No!" I sprint over and quickly push the woman's hands upwards as she shoots the bolt hitting the stone wall behind the cage. "What in the hells are you doing!?" My voice echoes through the cavern, edged with a wild frustration, I swear to the fucking gods I will kill every single one of these morons with my own hands if I have to.
She looks at me with fury and yet I register a deep and profound grief, "They killed my brother! He was all I had! Why the hells do you care if this goblin lives or dies?"
I lean into her, "Goblin prisoner! Her fate is not yours to determine. If you're going to act erratically then you're nothing but a liability, if you want to survive you need to stay in line."
Her anger flares at the brazen command but instead of arguing she begins to plead, though her raw ire doesn't falter, "We've lost so many people, and yet now I feel like I can't breathe. Every time I think of his body laying..." She stops speaking abruptly and lowers the crossbow. Tears stream down her face as she stares me down, she embodies the very soul of 'if looks could kill.' Without another word she storms out. I take a deep breath and turn to the goblin.
She sizes me up, "Oooooh, it looks like The Absolute has sent me a protector!"
I lean an arm on the cage and peer down at her through the rusted bars, "Sazza."
Her face falls into an expression of pure disdain, "And horns is callin' me by my first name? Think you're going to be my friend now?"
I test the waters with my supposed title, "Shut up. You're speaking to a True Soul."
Sazza's face falls and her demeanor immediately shifts, "Yeh? A... True Soul? The Absolute really did send you to me?" She speaks with skepticism and wariness.
"Yes, she will provide. I need you to take me to your camp and introduce me to the leaders, the other True Souls, we have business to conduct. In return I'll get you out of here and make sure you are rewarded for your efforts."
Sazza's eyes go wide, "It's a deal!!! But if you really are a True Soul, what are you doing in the grove?"
"Scouting and doing a hell of a better job than you lot did."
Sazza stands up straight looking embarrassed, her normal goblin snark drained away, she says nothing else.
I pat the top of the cage, "Sit tight and I'll be back. I need to gather supplies before getting you out of here."
"Be quick, I'm sick of sittin' around!"
I leave her to marinate as I walk up to Dammon's forge, Shadowheart had spoken to him about forging a new shield, and he made quick work of the order. "Morning Dammon! Is the shield ready? Shadowheart asked me to pick it up." I begin to collect arrows and a hunter's bow he had for sale.
Dammon smiles, "Vash! Yes, it's right here! I reworked it from an existing shield, but I'm confident it will hold up leagues better than the wooden one Shadowheart had." He pulls it from his inventory and proudly hands it to me.
Taking it, I look it over. "Fantastic work, I'm sure she'll appreciate this." I hand him the coin for the items.
Dammon nods graciously, "Good luck on your adventure. After hearing about what happened to Aradin and his gang, I'd be happy to provide all the help I can give. Take care of yourself."
I smell something faintly floral coupled with a tap on my shoulder, soft and low, barely noticed through the padding of my cloak. I turn to see the blonde Tiefling woman. She's nervous, but offers a light simper as I face her, "Hello Ser, my name's Bex, and that's my husband Danis." She points to her camp, and I see him hovering over us on the platform, reflexively giving me a meager wave when I catch his eye.
Small talk, I love small talk. I turn on my warm smile for them, "Nice to meet you both, no need for such formalities, call me Vash."
Her face is etched with relief at my kindness, "I heard you were going to take on the goblin hoard. Do you really think your team can handle them?"
Her question is shallow and inane but pointed enough to have a purpose. "Are you worried?"
"Honestly, I think you're our last hope. Between the druids pushing us out and the monsters on the road, I've been having trouble sleeping. I don't see how we can make it to Baldur's Gate given the odds stacked against us."
She has a point, I'm not sure what parrel's they've faced so far, but this one, in a vacuum, seems unpredictable and predestined. Not a good combination for a restful heart. "Are you asking me to tell you everything's going to be okay? I'd expect someone like you would know better than that."
She wrinkles her nose at me, discontent painting her face at my callousness, "Of course not. I'm asking you, Ser, what your plans are regarding our predicament." She quickly looks around and grips my arm. The shift in her demeanor catches me off guard. She walks me over to a private corner of the hollow near the makeshift prison. She finally let's go of me and addresses me directly, her voice low but certain, "I know you've spoken to Zevlor, you're working with him to help us. Whether you plan on dealing with the Druids or the Goblins, I don't really care. Either way I would like to know what your plan is so I can help."
A shiver runs down my spine as she man handles me. Her raw audacity is tantalizing; I look down at her as her eyes pierce me with determination. I fight the grin that is trying to split my face. The night I had with Astarion has me on edge this morning. I have not, in fact, taken care of myself yet, and I feel the ramifications of that creeping up on me. I carefully put my hand on her back. Feeling the firmness of her slight frame, her warmth, and the ridges of her spine through her weathered tunic. I take it all in and then gesture towards the prison. "Come with me."
She follows, and I point at Sazza in the rusted cage toward the back. I bend down and lower my voice to keep our conversation private, "I will be taking on the goblin camp, first. I've traded a favor with this one, promising to free her from prison and sneak her out of the grove. If I can bring her out safely, she'll introduce me to her tribe. It will be the quickest way to find the goblin leaders." She looks from Sazza and then back to me, and I meet her eye, "My plan is to cut off the head of the serpent. If I can dispatch the leaders, the rest should scatter."
Bex listens intently to the plan, "Very shrewd of you, most people wouldn't think twice about bargaining with a goblin. Can you trust her to keep her word?"
I shake my head, "Absolutely not, but my needs from her are superficial. As a utility, I won't be risking much. The rest can be managed by my team and I."
She watches Sazza for a moment, "It seems risky, but I understand the approach. It's not like we have a whole lot of options, and this seems promising if nothing else."
Promising is an understatement, if I can convince the goblins that I'm a True Soul, it may give me a far greater advantage. "I'm glad you can see my reasoning. Given the situation, I'm willing to gamble on the risks."
She grips my sleeve, her tail twitches as she turns her amber gaze back at me, a gentle excitement in her eyes, "The fact that you're willing to do this for us is very noble of you. I know it aligns with your duties as a paladin, but on a personal level, I cannot express how grateful I am that you're willing to take on this risk." She gives me a reassuring squeeze. "After watching you take care of the goblins at the gate, I'm certain you'll make quick work of them."
Her grip on me is firm, offered in comfort but her touch feels hungry. My lip twitches and I manage a calming smile, "It means a lot to have you put your faith in me, thank you."
She doesn't release me, but glances at Sazza once more, "How do you plan on getting her out of here? I don't think we can get the others on board with this plan."
"I honestly I hadn't thought that far ahead yet."
Bex pauses a moment as an excited grin crosses her face. She takes a few steps back and points at her camp, "I've got just the thing, wait right there!" I run my fingers across my beard contemplatively as she jogs off. Before long I see her jogging back, something loose clutched in her hand, "Here!" She presents me with a potato sack.
I stare at it a moment, "Thank you?" I take the sack from her.
She gives me a playful grin, "Just carry her out. Honestly if she can lay still enough no one will think twice about whether you're carrying turnips or goblins."
I give an impressed nod, it's both simple and brilliant, I'd be a fool to do it any other way, "So we have a plan."
Bex folds her arms, her competence in thinking on her feet is evident, "Whatever you need to help us get to Baldur's Gate, just ask."
I fold the potato sack and tuck it into my cloak pocket. "You have my gratitude, I'll be sure to consult you going forward, and if I have any updates, I'll let you know."
Taking my hand in hers, she gives it a nurturing pat, "Just remember. Take care of yourself, and good luck." She holds the moment with a gleam in her eye before turning and leaving. As she does her tail brushes against me subtly... playfully. A gesture easily missed, but not an accident. A hint of chamomile lingers in the air. Idle thoughts flow into my mind as I see her make her way back to her camp, likely to relay the news to her husband. These two are sickeningly optimistic. Even if I were to remove the goblin threat there is so much more in the wilds that could snuff them out. I shudder at the prospect. What a waste it would be to see her die, but how I wish dearly that I could be there to witness the tragic inevitability.
I return to camp to gather Shadowheart, Astarion, and Lae'zel. I hand Shadowheart her new shield and she tests the weight of it. "Not the best shield I've held. A little heavy on the right, but it's still far better than what I had."
They gather their gear and we head back to the Hollow. I walk up to Sazza in the prison, she's sitting but looks up at me and sees the companions I've brought with me, "Oh, I've got a mighty escort. Not exactly subtle are we?" I nod to Astarion and he pulls out a lock pick and unlocks the rusted cage.
I pull the burlap sack from my cloak pocket and flick it open, "Okay, get in."
Sazza looks at the bag with an indignant scowl, "In that?"
I nod slowly, condescendingly, "Get in the bag, don't make a sound, don't fucking move and you'll be free and clear. Simple."
Sazza watches me for a moment and then looks at the bag before climbing in as told. Shadowheart throws a few potatos and turnips in with her and I tie the top and throw her over my shoulder. As I walk through the hollow, Bex and Danis see me from their camp. Bex looks giddy and she's bouncing with excitement. I shake my head as I walk by, clearing the grove without incident. Once we're past the gate and out of view of the guards, I set the bag down and cut it open. Sazza gets up and stretches, feeling the sun on her skin for a brief blessed moment, "Praise the Absolute, it feels good to be out of there. You really did me a solid!"
I look at her expectantly, "So? Lead the way." I gesture to the trail.
She waves her hand, "No worries boss, this way."
As we walk past the hidden gate the pungent and sickly-sweet stench of rot wafts from down the trail. Andrick and the True Soul's corpse still remain along the path. Shadowheart covers her face, "Gods. It really does sneak up on you, doesn't it? Corpses everywhere. Those poor bastards."
- Day 2 : Gut bacteria begins to break down the inside of the body cavity, it produces methane and hydrogen sulfide. The body swells and the skin turns green, marbles, and blisters. Fluids begin to leak from the corpse.
I can't help but claim the kill, "The dying man and his brother that I spoke to you about yesterday. I didn't feel I had the time to bury them after I killed the brother."
Sazza looks up at me as we walk, not registering that the dead men are cultists, "Prolly deserved it though, didn't they Boss?"
I give half a laugh, "They did, actually." We walk a little further in silence and I glance down at her, "How were you captured when your raiding party attacked?"
She doesn't look at me, but I sense a pang of disquiet settling in. Her next words are spoken remarkably careful for a goblin, "I was sent ahead as a scout before the fight'n started. My duty was to scout, not to fight, so I waited until the fight'n was over before getting out of there. 'cept I didn't see the Tiefs were waitin' for me. That's when they nabbed me."
"Ah, a scout, not a fighter. I know that's a load of bollocks, you hid because you don't have a backbone." She stops abruptly and stares at me with daggered spite. I may be a True Soul, but there are limits to a goblin's patience, it's a natural part of being a goblin. I slow to a halt looking back at her, and laugh, "Come on Sazza, I'm just teasing you. You can take a joke, can't you?"
She grits her teeth with wounded pride, "Take it back, or you can deal with my tribe yourself!"
I turn and walk back to her, kneeling to her level, "Sazza, in the little time I've known you you've demonstrated a ferocity that I honestly haven't seen in any other goblin in the realms. The way you faced that woman with the crossbow, you didn't even flinch when the bolt shot right past you. You kept your faith in The Absolute and it served you well. I'm sorry for teasing you, you didn't deserve that. Keep your resolve and you will continue to be blessed, in her name." The preaching easily drips off my tongue like a well-practiced script.
She looks me in the eye and then rolls her shoulders back with pride regained, "At least you know what's what, horns." She grins at me and then walks past, leading the way once again.
We cross a bridge and come to a decrepit village. We suddenly hear a shout from a rooftop, a goblin Booyagh poised to strike, "Oi! What you got there? Some meat for the worgs?"
Sazza looks up at the Booyagh and waves her hand, "As far as you're concerned that's all this is, now get back to guarding the wind ya twat."
The Booyagh eyes us but lets us pass through without incident. I look around at the dilapidated buildings then notice Shadowheart looking lost in thought. I step next to her as we walk, "I recognize that look in your eye. You're remembering something, aren't you?"
She glances up at me, "Ah, it's nothing really. Just vague notions." Suddenly a flash of dark magic quickly flares from the back of her hand and in an instant, it's gone, she winces, "Dammit."
I look at her startled, "What was that?"
She waves her hand at me, frustrated, "Nothing! It was nothing. Let's just keep moving." She blows past me as we make our way out of the village.
As we pass through the north wall I spot a chalk outline of a children's game. Hopscotch. I know now my profane heart seethes with evil; I only feel peace and pleasure when I'm killing. Even merely considering a killing or being a witness to suffering quells the voices. My thoughts only echo death to every degree. Was I always this way? What happened to me that would weave together such a foul soul? Was I a happy child? It seems like such a strange prospect.
As we approach another checkpoint of goblin sentries. I see ragged banners of tanned skins with a symbol painted in red. It's crude and smeared, but distinct. A hand, with the palm of a skull, surrounded by a triangle. Hand. Skull. Triangle. It gives me pause and I touch Sazza's shoulder, "These banners are a bit unkempt."
Sazza looks at them and waves her hand to placate me, "Don't worry Boss, I'll take care of it." She turns to the sentries, "Oi! You heard the True Soul! Ain't no one can see the symbol of The Absolute, get'em cleaned up!" The sentries grumble at her, glancing at me. Our combined authority is hanging by a thread, but one of the goblins runs off to the camp muttering about red paint.
So that's the symbol of The Absolute, not just a tribal emblem.
We continue past the sentries and as we move through the final gate, we are hit by the sounds... and smells of the goblin camp, built within a long-abandoned temple of Selune. I see Shadowheart bristle. Sazza runs ahead and as we cross the final bridge leading directly into the temple garden where a raucous celebration is underway. I can smell the booze mixed with all manner of body fluids. We only just make it onto the bridge when we are abruptly overwhelmed with a squirming in our skulls. It's a hundred times stronger than the squirming we felt when communing with one another and it brings us all to our knees.
"GODS!" I grip my head then suddenly everything fades to black. I'm getting tired of things fucking with my head, I need to get this tadpole out of me. A vision is forced into my mind's eye. Before me I see the silhouettes of three people. A cunt, a jackass, and some bitch in crab pajamas. I don't know who they are, but they stir something visceral within me, I feel the whispers rise in my head, Hunt the Damned... Crush them. Vengeance. Kill. HUNT. KILL! I hear a new voice surge into my mind, overpowering the whispers. She is domineering and direct, "These are my chosen, they speak for me. Find the prism and you will be worthy to stand by their side." The Absolute? The warring voices in my head are so profoundly overwhelming. The voice of my god bids that I take revenge against The Cult of The Absolute. Was that my oath? Have I been fighting the cult this whole time? What the absolute is interesting. Become a True Soul, become a chosen of The Absolute. It feels like a feeble promise. A carrot on a stick that you chase for eternity but never catch, from a Goddess that has yet to prove any divine power outside of the control of this wretched tadpole.
As we struggle against the voice in our minds Shadowheart pulls the device out of her satchel. It is pulsing with psionic energy and burns bright red against the force of the voice. It seems to engulf us in a protective psionic bubble, stifling the voice in our minds. In a moment, everything is quelled and we return to ourselves.
I stare at Shadowheart and finally ask the question, "What is that thing?"
Shadowheart looks at me, gripping it, deeply concerned, "I. I don't know, but when you told us about The Absolute and the True Soul last night I've suspected that this thing is connected in some way."
I eye the device in her hands, getting a good look at it at last. It's polyhedral, each side a metal plate with Githyanki script etched into it. The core of the device is a red crystal that glows and pulses with psionic energy, though selectively, almost like it's aware. Most of the time it has been at rest in Shadowheart's satchel, "Is that... the prism?"
Shadowheart's demeanor shifts, she's more guarded and she clutches the device protectively, "Most likely, yes."
"Where did you come across it?"
Lae'zel pushes into the conversation, "You stole it from my people!"
Shadowheart begins to pulsate with a dark divine energy, "One step closer and I'll turn you into dust."
Lae'zel bulks at the prospect, "Tchk! I could take you down with my bare hands if I wanted to." She grips the hilt of her sword and steps closer to Shadowheart.
I snatch her hand in mine as she grips her hilt, pulling her back sharply. The blade's sheath rattling against her armour as she falls back into me. I catch her and set her back on her feet. "Stop, the both of you! This is not the time nor the place for this." I point at Shadowheart, my tone sharp and commanding, "Put that damned thing away!" Looking up at the goblin sentries, I wait to see if we've raised suspicions, but they are all too drunk to see straight. I lower my voice, but hold the weight of my tone, "We can't start bickering over this now, but this does warrant further discussion. Let's finish our business here and address this in more depth tonight."
I see relief settle over Shadowheart as she tucks the prism away, "Gladly."
Lae'zel, infuriated by my intervention, pushes me out of her way, "Do not touch me, istik!" Her voice cuts with an edge as she shoots me a piercing glance, followed by a second glance. Softer.
Entering the camp, we step into an over grown marbled courtyard filled with mud and piss. The stench of goblin is almost intolerable, but there's nothing to be done about it now. In the middle of the courtyard is a makeshift stage placed onto of a crumbled foundation. A man... who I think might be a bard... is standing aloft spouting bad poetry. The goblins are bewitched by his rantings so I leave them in peace. Sazza is nowhere to be seen.
Shadowheart quietly scans the ancient sanctuary courtyard, "Disgusting idolatry." I look around at the crumbling statues of Selune and shake my head. A dark cleric with memory loss, loose morals, and a disdain for Selune. Shadowheart truly is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.
I see a goblin standing on a make-shift dais, four steps up from a captive audience, loudly boasting, "CRUSHED his hand I did! Right before he could cast those blue sparks again! That way he stayed down!"
The other goblins gawk and cheer, "You got'em good, Crusher!"
I approach them and as I do the goblin, Crusher, takes a menacing stance, puffing out his chest as he addresses me, "Another straggler come to bask in the light of The Absolute?"
He's as good a gob as any to question, "I'm looking for the one in charge."
Crusher laughs, "The Absolute is in charge of this tribe! She's been bringing in all sorts, and she's changed the rules." His smirk is dripping with ego, "So if you're looking to play nice you gotta show me some respect, 'horn head." He nods to his foot, "Go on, kiss my foot."
He postures in front of his peers, and I glance around at the other goblins as they watch me expectantly. I look down at his foot, bare, bejeweled, and covered in piss mud.
Lae'zel mutters to me, "Don't you dare grovel before this creature."
Astarion grabs my arm like a devil on my shoulder, "No no... definitely grovel. I have to see this."
I grin, having been given permission to be a degenerate. I raise my arms in adoration of the little lordling, "Forgive me Crusher, where were my manners?" I theatrically get to my knees before him, bending down to kiss his foot. As my mouth reaches his stumpy stinking digits I quickly snap up his big toe and bite to break. His toe pops and crunches between my teeth; gristle, cartilage, and gamy toe meat slip-slide and are torn asunder in my jaws. Crusher screams and tries to pull away but falls backwards like a trapped animal. As the toe breaks away, I spit it into the mud, then stand wiping the blood from my beard.
"MY TOE!? MY FUCKING TOE!?" Blood spurts in ribbons as Crusher reaches for his foot impulsively, but hesitates, not wanting to touch the tender wound.
I hover over him, staring him down, "Stop whining and kiss my foot."
Crusher is gasping at the pain but jumps at my order and feebly rolls onto his knees. As he crawls toward me, the wound inadvertently bounces on the edge of a step as he makes his way down. He yelps and heaves from the pain, but finally manages to make it to me, kissing my boot. "There! I kissed it!" He sits up, leaning his back against the bottom step in front of me, finally catching his breath.
"Crusher." He looks up at me and I place my boot on his chest, pinning him to the edge of the masonry. He grabs me and winces from the pressure as I lean down, tracking the panick in his eyes, "Where is the one in charge?"
Crusher lifts a shaking hand and points to the door leading into the temple, "Inside, you can find them in there." He grimaces once again.
I nod my head in gratitude, "Thank you, that's all I wanted." I swiftly slam my boot down on his body as his spine bends and snaps against the corner of the step. Blood spurts from his mouth in a geyser of violence. His eyes wide and filled with terror as he tries to make noises but all that comes out are grunts and gargles. His arms flail but the bottom half of his body doesn't move. I've likely damaged his Thoracic Vertebrae, somewhere in the region of T5-T10. Paralyzed. Probably dying... probably. I've definitely broken some ribs and punctured a lung or two. Ruptured stomach? Damaged diaphragm? Who knows without an autopsy. Looks like he's having a bitch of a time breathing though. I pull an enchanted ring off of one of his lifeless toes and turn to Crusher's meager gawking audience, "As True Souls, you will address us with the respect we are due."
The goblins stare at us wide eyed and mutter to themselves. They back away, some more quickly than others. Astarion claps gleefully, "Bravo! Good show! Who needs Sazza when you have homicidal tendencies?"
I laugh and put my hand on his shoulder as we make our way to the inner sanctum. The sounds of Crusher's labored breath fading into the drunken chaos of the camp.