The bustle of the Hollow is in full swing as tieflings and druids bandy about, communing with one another. We catch the occasional wave, the air dotted with "Good morning!" and "Thank you!"
I return the gestures politely.
Bex looks slightly embarrassed by the attention, but is gracious all the same.
We pass under the platform where the children spar. I glance up at Asharak, busy consoling a crying child. A moment passes before my attention settles back on Bex. "I appreciate you stepping into a position of leadership. The druids need authority right now. Someone competent who can set a new precedent."
She is looking at Ethel as we pass, almost lost in thought. "It felt natural, to be honest. Still, I didn't want to overstep."
"No. You did the right thing in this case."
Her cheeks dimple with a subtle smile before she places a hand on my arm. "How's your shoulder?"
A quiet chuckle escapes me. "I forgot. You tried to kill me yesterday, didn't you?”
She doesn't laugh. Her smile fades, and she suddenly becomes guarded.
How do you catch a smile when it falls? "Bex. It was an honest mistake."
She hugs her elbows as we walk, scoffing. "I appreciate you saying so, but what would have happened if I hit something vital? A little to the left, perhaps. I don't know if I can forgive myself."
There are, of course, vitals in the shoulder. The axillary vein. The brachial plexus. I hesitate before placing a hand on her back. She finally leans into me, seeking comfort.
"I don't resent you for it." I rub her back and feel her sigh as we walk quietly for a moment. "I'm going to be leaving the grove. My company and I have business elsewhere. Near Waukeen's Rest. I'll stay connected, of course, but we're shifting focus for now."
She looks up. "Shifting focus? All the way out there? What about Halsin?"
"Halsin is taking care of what he thinks is necessary. If he wants to return, I'm sure he will. The grove will be safe under our watch, that's all that matters. With everything in place, I have time to follow a lead regarding the tadpoles. I'm not going to squander it."
I feel her tail begin to lash. "How can you be so sure the goblins won't attack the grove while you're away?"
I hesitate, studying her for the briefest moment. "You don't know?"
She watches me expectantly, waiting for me to answer.
"Because I command the march."
She looks straight ahead as we walk, and the silence becomes heavy between us. "Oh."
My hand travels up her back, gently. "Does that frighten you?"
She allows herself a moment to consider. "No. It doesn't frighten me. But that doesn't change the truth of what you are."
My face falls still. "And what is that?"
"You went from a man with amnesia who survived a crashing ship, only to become a True Soul of the Absolute and Peace Bringer of the Emerald Grove."
She looks at her feet and her voice lowers to a murmur, as if saying it to herself.
"It took you five days."
Through the corner of my eye, I see a tiefling jogging up to us. She's the guard with the short red hair, from the parapets. Gods, what was her name? Kaldani. She's clutching her crossbow and has a panicked look in her eye.
"Vash..." She's breathless, and I put a hand on her back while she gathers herself. "Goblins... at the gate."
I look up sharply.
Shit.
I quickly make my way to the parapets and look down.
Bex follows, and her eyes go wide. "Sazza. She's brought a pack of them."
The band is charging up the trail. Red sparks volley from my hand as I pitch a firebolt at their feet. They stop short, in front of the smoldering sand, which quickly hardens into glass. The red, arching Weave surrounds me and I pick up Bex. She clings to me as I glide down to confront them.
"I never told you to come to the Grove! What are you doing here?" The goblins flinch as my words hammer them.
Sazza holds up her arms. "You said you wanted to speak to me, Boss! I figured something was up, so I brought my band!" Her words are frantic, trying to speak quickly to absolve her actions.
"Don't make assumptions! When I say I want to speak, all you need to do is listen." My voice hisses, pressing firmly into her panic, like a thumb on an open wound.
"Y-You're right, Boss. M-My mistake!"
I exhale deeply, lowering my shoulders. I begin to walk, and the goblins follow as I lead them away from the grove. Bex follows up the rear, making sure none linger.
"I wanted to speak to you about the other True Souls in the camp. Minthara and Ragzlin. What kind of loyalties do they have amongst your tribe?"
"Oh! Well... Ragzlin is a blessing from the Absolute! A true warrior. A True Soul! He's kept our coffers loaded and our bellies full. He's a real leader!"
I take in her words-her expectations are low when it comes to leadership. "What do you do for him?"
She looks at me bewildered. "Raidin' of course."
I'm quiet for a moment before glancing down at her. "...and?"
Her posture deflates, looking even smaller than she already is. "What else is there?"
"So much more, Sazza." I glance back at Bex. "True purpose."
Bex observes the spectacle, her brow furrowing with quiet curiosity.
"What about Minthara?"
Sazza begins fidgeting, scuttling along beside me as she considers her words carefully. "Mistress Minthara is..." She pauses, her face twisting with effort as she tries to find the right words. "She's a True Soul. She's strong and speaks for the Absolute. She..." Sazza falls silent before looking at me with alarm.
I glance at the other goblins walking next to me. They're quiet, listening intently. "Is that all?"
She tries hard to find an answer for me, and almost speaks again, but retracts, remaining silent.
"And who am I, Sazza?"
"Well..." Her eyes seem to fill with a glimmer as her shoulders relax. "You're the Boss! You got me out of the grove. Saved my life! Brought me back to my tribe!" She looks around at the other goblins. They laugh with a modest exuberance, gripping her arm and patting her back. "You gave me my shiny dagger after our bargain was done." She unsheathes it, holding it out so the others can see.
A few ogle the blade, while a goblin chimes in. "He crushed Crusher! It was right nasty!"
"Yeah! And he chopped Fezzerk's axe right out of his hand!" The goblin mimics the swing of my sword. A few goblins become boisterous; a smattering of jeers rise among them.
Another goblin grabs Sazza's shoulders. "He took down Fezzerk's whole group with a thought! Just like True Soul Zrell! You should have seen it!"
"I was there! My ears are still ringing!" He laughs and sticks a pinky in his ear. "I thought I was going to go mad! My brain was itchin' like I'd never felt before!"
Sazza's excitement boils over. "I told you! Boss is a mighty one! He already pinned Mistress Minthara! When she clobbered him in the face, he didn't even flinch!"
I feel a faint heat rise in my cheeks as she mentions my ordeal with the Nightwarden. I try not to look at Bex and refocus. "And I recognize your strength. You're not just a band of raiders. You're certainly not spider food."
I hear a chaotic murmur ripple through them. "...the spider pits..."
"The Absolute has brought me to your tribe for a reason." We've passed into the blighted village, and I stop near a well at the center of town. "I aim to challenge Ragzlin and Minthara in earnest. Let it be known that I am the only True Soul you need."
Several goblins jump and ululate.
"We'll be a mighty tribe!"
"Praise the Absolute!"
"Boss is Tribe!"
I look down at Sazza. "Speak to the others. Let them choose. I will be traveling for the next few days, so you have time. Stay connected. Your Booyagh will be getting messages from my little bird. You'll know when I'm coming back. Be ready."
Sazza nods vigorously. "Anything for you, Boss!"
I scan the horde that surrounds me. Animated and inspired. "Get to work."
The goblins scatter in chaotic jubilation.
Bex watches as the group scurries off toward their camp.
I extend my hand. The matter settled. "That's all it takes."
She releases a breath. "Is that how you did it with the druids?"
"It is, yes. I'm glad you were here to witness it. It's important to me that you understand."
She shakes her head, confused. "But... why?"
I reach out my hand to her and she takes it. "Because knowing makes you stronger by my side."
She becomes discontented. "But you're going to leave me behind at the grove. A glorified babysitter to a circle of helpless druids."
A subtle scoff escapes me. "I didn't realize you thought so low of them."
"I do not love them just because they stopped their chanting. You may have shown them the light, but they are still the same people who were more than willing to kill us all, Vash."
I watch her as a flicker of hate sparks in her eyes. "I'm coming with you."
As before, it's not even a question I'm allowed to answer.
"And Danis is coming. There's plenty of room for us in camp, we don't have a lot after fleeing Elturel."
My hand twitches, but not in bloodlust, but in elation. "Of course, you both are more than welcome." Proximity. It's all I need.
Her eyes snap to me; she appears to be holding back excitement. "Thank you." Her tail gives a wide lash. "Thank you, Vash!" She finally reaches up and embraces me with a heavy breath.
I cling to her warmth, closing my eyes.
"Right here." I point at the edge of my tent as Asharak and Zorru carry a large, empty chest inside, setting it down.
Asharak adjusts his robe, looking around. "I can see why you're not staying in the Hollow with us. I can't blame you for wanting a more private outpost." He grins, and I invite them to sit, pulling out a dark cedar box of pipeleaf cigars.
Zorru looks down at the box. It's a clean row of rolled leaves, amber and fragrant. He laughs with a touch of embarrassment. "Oh, no thank you. I'm... I'm going to head back. Good luck with your, uh, chest!"
He quickly retreats, and I shake my head. "That boy should have never been allowed to become a ranger."
Asharak grunts and sits in the chair across from me. "The boy is an orphan, like so many of them. Sometimes the nervous ones can surprise you. Oh, yes please." He nods graciously at the box.
I cut the tip of a cigar with my dagger and hand it to him. He snaps a flame into his fingers and drags a few times, getting the leaf to smolder with a bright red heat.
He exhales and leans back. "What's done is done, I suppose." He finally pulls in a proper mouthful of smoke, savoring the flavor. He relaxes his arms on the armrests, releases the hot smoke into the air.
I prep a cigar for myself, pulling the smoke into my mouth and closing my eyes. It's heady and smooth. Like the vanillin of an old book. Dry and intoxicating. A vague nuttiness peeks through the embers, with a sweet, earthy tone that lingers on the tongue only after I exhale.
A tiny smirk bends the end of my lip. "I can't remember the last time I had one of these."
I glance at Asharak, the end of my tail flicks. "Tell me about yourself. What part of Elturel are you from?"
He snorts. A plume of smoke escaping his nostrils as he shakes his head. "Elturel... gods. I never want to hear that name again."
I pull in another mouthful, watching him as his eyes linger on the chest for a moment.
"I was a fisherman. I had my own vessel and worked with good men. Lost every single one of them when the city fell."
He takes a drag, pausing before releasing the smoke through his nose. "I still couldn't tell you how I survived. I can't remember anything from that day." He brings his attention back to me, leaning forward to tap his ashes into a half shell on the table. "I was damned happy to join Zevlor's caravan though. I was sick of watching as friends and neighbors turn against good people just because we changed. Unforgivable, rotten souls. They named us devils, but the hells did more to ruin their hearts than they ever did to our bodies."
"And they would have never seen it in themselves. No matter how close you hold the mirror."
He grunts. "Well put." He sighs and leans his head back. "No, despite the danger, we are far better off here. If we die, at least we died trying for something better, instead of wasting the rest of our days being punished by a city that will never love us."
I exhale, allowing the smoke to flow through my teeth. "Do you mourn the dead?"
He rolls the cigar between his fingers for a moment, watching the half shell. "No."
"Mm." His face looks like he's accepting something he's been avoiding this whole time.
"I miss them, deeply, but I don't regret the decisions we've made getting as far as we have."
"Very sensible of you."
He glances up, meeting my eyes. "It's necessary."
I hold the moment before slowly tapping my ashes into the shell. "What will you do when you make it to Baldur's Gate? Buy a new vessel?"
"No." He takes another drag and holds it a moment before releasing it. "No, I can't stand the thought of trying to rebuild what I lost. I need to start fresh. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do, but I curse the thought of stepping foot on another damned boat."
He pulls one more mouthful, the embers at the end of the cigar receding against the leaves, bright orange. He taps the end of the cigar into the half shell before releasing the last breath of smoke. "Thank you, Vash. I needed this." He stands, giving me a gracious nod. "I’ll see you back at the Hollow, the next time you're around."
I watch him leave as the whispers continue to thrum in my ears.
Cut him. Bite him. Fuck him.
I close my eyes and exhale heavy through my nose, thick smoke coating my lap.
The whispers of a Bhaalspawn. Slaughter and breed in Father's name. A blessing, surely. Gods forbid there aren't enough Bhaalspawn in Faerûn.
I take one more drag and hold it in my mouth for a while before letting the smoke curl out of my lips. The feeling of the smoke rising laps at my nose and climbs up my face.
I'm just... tired.
I look over at the chest sitting at the end of my tent and snap my fingers. An arcane lock coats it; geometric runes line each side as a magic shackle. I snap again and it's gone.
Good.
After a quiet moment alone, I finally tap out my cigar and get started.
Astarion seems to be on the hunt, while Shadowheart sits next to Lae'zel by the fire.
Shadowheart's voice is patient, but in a performative sense. "No, no. It's not that I'm against going to the creche if Vash thinks that's for the best. I'm just saying caution is warranted. If you don't know who these gith are, then what's stopping them from just killing us all?"
Lae'zel scoffs. "If you're so concerned, then feel free to stand behind me. We don't need you stammering like a hatchling. It will only serve to make the party look weak."
Gale is nibbling on some bread and cheese, nose buried in the latest book he's procured from the grove. He's sitting close to his tent, disengaged from the group. He most certainly is not looking at me.
I begin rummaging around the camp chest, pulling out every magical item I can find. Once my arms are full I return my tent, tossing them inside my chest, before going back for more.
Gale finally glances up from his book, watching me. "What's going on, Vash?"
"Just securing some of our more valuable items." I take another armful back to my chest.
He gets to his feet and begins to follow me around camp. "That's not necessary, really."
"Of course it is. We can't afford to lose these. We're lucky to have stumbled across them at all."
Gale's gripping his hands nervously. His eyes shifting subtly, trying to think of the right words. Any words. That will make me stop.
I begin going through everyone's tents, carefully pulling magical items that aren't hanging off their bodies. Shadowheart and Lae'zel watch quietly for a moment then return to their discussion.
Gale laughs nervously. "You can't possibly think we're incapable of securing our own property. It's a bit overkill for you to have every single magic item tucked away like that. Isn't it?"
I stop and look at him. "Of course not. Anytime you need something, you can ask me." I finally climb into his tent and rummage around.
His voice rises. "These are my personal effects! You can't just barge in and take my things!"
"I'm doing you a favor, Gale." I comb through a few of his items before finding a small chest. I flip it open and see a cache of magical jewelry. My stomach sinks. Of course, the smaller items will be less conspicuous. "You've got quite the collection here." He may very well be the walking bomb the shade described. I snap the chest closed and tuck it under my arm.
He finally grabs me. "No!" He's almost breathless with panic. "You don't understand! I need those!"
My face shifts into incredulity, brows raised. "You... need these?" I hold up the small chest and Gale eyes it with desperation.
"Y-Yes... it's... it's hard to explain." He scowls. "And I shouldn't have to. They're mine." He grabs at it and I pull it out of his reach.
"What aren't you telling me, Gale?" My focus sharpens on to the mania he's whipped himself into.
He says nothing, tries to grab the chest again, and fails. "You're a real bastard, you know that?"
The mouth on this man. "Don't change the subject."
His discontent is causing a wild shift in the Weave. He glances at Lae'zel and then turns back to me, finally settling into a resentful resignation. "Can I speak with you privately?"
I hold out my arm, allowing him to lead the way to my tent.
I place the chest on the table and sit. Gale ties the flap of the tent closed before taking a seat across from me.
"Vash." He's been holding in a swell of emotion, and the levee is about the break. "The more I get to know you, the more alarmed I am at your behavior. What's worse is that it doesn't seem to be impulses. Your cruelty is calculated."
"Cruelty?" I lean hard on my armrest, the wooden joints creak as I settle my weight. "I am merely managing our assets. I don't do it out of malice.The solutions I offer are just that, solutions, and they work. I made a promise that everything I do is in the interest of our group's survival. Are you saying what I've done is wrong?"
"No but—"
"—But what? But there is more than one way to handle a situation? A kinder way? A gentler way?" I shake my head and speak softly. "You know better than anyone, kindness can't fix every injustice in the world, Gale Dekarios."
He abruptly stands, the chair knocking over behind him. He's quiet for a long time, working through myriad emotions. He finally gives me a haunting glance and speaks carefully. "Who are you?"
The correct question, with no answer to give.
"What do you expect me to say to that?"
"I expect you to be honest. I know you’ve lost your memories. But you know something, and you’ve been keeping it from us. I can feel it."
"We each harbor our own secrets, with the mutual understanding that some secrets are best left buried. But others are more dangerous and deserve the right amount of care. How long were you going to hide your condition from me?"
He gingerly reaches up and places his fingertips over a circular tattoo on his chest. Lines flow from it and trace themselves up his neck and into his left eye. "Indefinitely, if I could help it."
I can't help but grin at his selfishness. "You never gave us the choice to decide whether we wanted to travel with a walking bomb. What about that makes you more entitled to privacy?"
"I—" His shoulders slowly fall as his eyes fill with dread. "Are you going to force me out?"
I tap my nail on the table, letting the question hang between us. "Gale." I pull the cache into my hands and hold it up to him. "I'll be keeping the artifacts in my chest. That way, I can feel reassured we always have an item on hand for you to consume. I apologize for how invasive this is. Truly. But if at any point you need anything, please, just ask."
He releases a shattered breath, then slowly picks the chair up from the ground. I watch him right himself before I walk over to the chest and place the items inside, sealing it with an arcane lock.
I sit back down across from him. "Is there anything you'd like in the meantime? Mead? Cigar?" I gently push the box toward him. He doesn't look like a man that smokes, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?
To my surprise he takes one, holding it for a moment before leaving without another word.
I think that went well.