Content Warning: Graphic Violence, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Fantasy Racism / Slurs, Threats of Violence, Psychological Manipulation / Coercion, Religious Extremism / Cult Activity, Implied Child Endangerment, Moral Ambiguity / Antihero POV

The path we follow is a well-trodden gorge; the high earthen walls are sunbaked and lifeless. Our steps kick up fine dust, filling our nostrils with the pungent scent of parched iron. It coats my cloak, and I try to shake myself off, but it's useless.

Lae'zel steps in front of the party, holding up her hand. "Wait. Listen."

We pause and hear a panicked voice echoing off the surrounding walls. Lae'zel leads us forward, and we find ourselves behind a hill that splits into two paths that curve around either side.

Lae'zel moves but I snatch her shoulder and shake my head, putting my finger to my lips. She scowls at me but remains planted, quiet, and seething.

I crouch low and climb the hill, peeking over to appraise the situation. I see a party of three humans standing in the gorge calling up to a tiefling man, holding fast to the winch of a hidden portcullis.

"Let us in! They're almost here, we don't have time to argue with you, Kanon!"

Kanon speaks as if he's chastising children. "Even more of a reason for us to keep the gate close! I will not endanger our people because of your complacency!"

The human scoffs, and postures with an uncertain bravado. "My people were ambushed!" Whooping rises from down the path, and the human's voice cracks with panic. "We don't have time to argue! Just let us in!"

Kanon looks behind him, and another tiefling man, an armored paladin, approaches the parapets. "Aradin! What in the hells is going on!?" Tieflings, both guards and civilians, begin to crowd the parapets beside them.

Shrieking, laughing, and more ululations rise from the gorge. as a horde of goblins gallop ever closer. Aradin's voice cracks. "Let us in, Zevlor!"

The paladin, Zevlor, shouts in abject rage. "You brought them to the grove, you gods damned fool!"

An arrow hits the dirt at Aradin's feet. "Shit." His crew turns to face the horde, readying their meager weapons.

My eyes track the goblins as they flood the arena. There is a Booyagh, one of their magic casters, along with several warriors, a worg, and a bugbear. This isn't a scouting party. It's a warband. This idiot didn't just come across goblins, he disturbed an entire goblin camp and then led them straight to this hidden redoubt.

Gods... if a single goblin makes it back to the hive, the redoubt will be exposed. If this is the druids' grove we're looking for, then we're fucked.

I should kill this man and call it a fucking accident.

I turn to my new companions, gods willing they're reliable.

"Goblin warband. Lae'zel, come around on the right. Astarion, take the left path and come up from behind. Gale, Shadowheart..." I sense movement behind me and glance down to see two goblin archers climbing the face of the hill toward me. I pull my greatsword, and as the first one reaches the top, I swing low, cutting into her and sending her flying from the hilltop. She lands with a heavy thud, and lays still.

Gale and Shadowheart join me at the top of the hill as Lae'zel and Astarion dart off to either side.

The second goblin archer watches his comrade crash into the ground before looking back to me, only to see my feet landing heavy on his body. I feel the snapping of his bones as I land and dig my sword through his head.

I am a merciful man.

Shadowheart casts a divine blessing that feels like a beautiful bone chilling embrace. It fills me with a warrior's zeal. I make it to the main arena and charge the bugbear.

Lae'zel has engaged the goblin that leads the faction.

He wails a battle cry. "For the Absolute!"

The Absolute? There was nothing about that in the goblin tablet...

I hear a sharp scream and see Kanon slumped over the wheel of the gate, two arrows buried in his chest.

Shadowheart stands and pelts the faction leader with a guiding bolt.

Lae'zel heaves the hell sword high and lands a devastating blow to his cranium.

He falls, small, quiet, and irrelevant.

The bugbear turns to see my charge and swings his mace. I pull a dagger and slide, cutting into his ankle.

He wails and falls to his knees. I regain my footing and take his head with one clean swing. In that moment I hear the grind of pebbles under foot and a sharp pain shoots up my leg. The worg has clamped down on my calf and with a shake of his head, he's pulled me to the ground.

"Fuck!"

It pounces me, pinning me down, and its goblin companion darts up, pulling his club, aiming at my face, and bringing it down. It cracks against my forehead and I grab my face. It rallies another strike, but before the second blow can land, Astarion buries his dagger deep into the ingrate's back.

The worg roars with rage, and snaps at Astarion, freeing me from under it. I batter it in the face with the hilt of my sword, stunning it, then blade bites deep into its shoulder. It falters, then is knocked off its feet by three magic missiles, volleyed mercifully by Gale.

The worg falls.

I tip my head to the Wizard and take stock. The battle grows quiet, and I quickly dart down the path where the goblins had come. I see none trying to escape and finally allow myself a breath, rubbing my forehead. Deserved after battering Astarion earlier, I suppose.

He catches up to me and slides in with a wry smile. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

I smirk and shove him. "Away with you. Point made."

"You!!!" The shrill voice of the man rattles the silence as he charges into the redoubt.

Astarion and I glance at each other, and he wiggles his wrists. "Nothing like drama to brighten up this wretched day."

We make our way into the redoubt.

My company and I follow through the gate, passing over a well-worn path into a sanctuary of refugees. The daylight shines through the dusted air, kicked up from the skirmish. It smells like bodies—living bodies, and a lot of them. I immediately see Zevlor and Aradin, nose to nose, shouting like a couple of belligerent drunkards.

"What is the gods-damned point of an ivy gate if we're going to have buffoons like you leading the horde straight to us!? You might as well burn this place down with your own damned hands! Give us the dignity of looking our killer in the eye." Zevlor's words are cutting, but Aradin's brain might as well be stone.

He postures indignantly, chest out, malice in every word. "I was taking care of my crew! It wouldn't have been an issue if you hadn't hesitated!"

I can't help but watch. Astarion sidles up to me as we listen like a couple of gawking crows.

"They were on your tail. If we had opened the gate they would have easily followed! God's, can't you see what you almost did!? We have children we need to protect!"

Aradin snorts. "That's just what Faerûn needs. More of your kind. I'm done with this fucking place. Let's go, Barth!"

As they leave Zevlor throws his hands in the air. "So, you run to us for safety and then just leave after getting a good man killed!?"

Aradin turns to face Zevlor, swaggering backwards as he continues his way out. "He was just a foulblood. I'm not going to lose sleep over it."

A grin splits my face, teeth gleaming, thirst in my heart. I make eye contact with Aradin. "Foulblood?"

Zevlor takes a step forward, jaw clenched, fists tight. I hold up my hand and Zevlor stops, eyeing me.

I approach Aradin, slow at first. Deliberate. His mocking grin falls and he begins to run. I catch him, spin him around, and my knuckles strike hard like iron against a melon. With a sickening crunch, his nose caves, and drops unconscious.

My eyes snap to Barth who is standing, mouth agape. I step over Aradin, but before my foot can land, he bolts.

Aradin stirs. Blood smeared across his face. A faint groan escapes him. I leave him to nurse his pride, his nose I'm less certain of.

I return to Zevlor. "Quite the morning, isn't it?"

His laugh is wholesome, though laced with regret. He begins to walk down the path toward a refugee camp deeper into the grove. The hollow of their camp is an open cave system with the only entrance being the gate. A strategic redoubt. Prudent.

"It's certainly more lively than usual. I'm just sad it led to another needless loss." His voice carries the weight of a spent blade.

My eyes soften. "My condolences. I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

He's quiet for a moment, before speaking again, carefully. "We might be safe for now, but it feels like the dangers of these wilds keep seeping in." His eyes track the path ahead of him. "I feel it in my sleep." He shifts his head toward me and murmurs, "I've stopped sleeping."

He pauses in front of a stone door beside a wooden structure. It's a communal eating space with a platform built just above it. Boxes and bedrolls tell me someone has their camp set up there.

I hear Zevlor's voice once again. "I'm just glad to see another paladin."

He puts his hand on my shoulder. I glance at it and curl my nose. This man feels desperate. "You might be exactly what we need. Come, you look like you could use some respite. Join me, I can offer you some food, and we can get you and your party cleaned up."

I hear a voice drifting from up the path. I give him a grateful nod and glance over. A tiefling couple is walking arm in arm towards us. She's blonde, and dressed in a simple tunic and skirt. The man has long dark hair and wears a blue robe.

She speaks to him with a soft but cheery tone.

"Do you think we can get a dog once we're in Baldur's Gate?"

"They don't allow dogs, unfortunately. Cats, though!"

"A little orange cat, with a door so it can come and go as it pleases."

Optimistic. Naïve. Hopeful. Things that can easily get them killed. Love is not enough to protect them from this cruel world.

I watch the blonde woman a moment more before making my way into Zevlor's chamber.

Zevlor's private chamber is to the left of the structure. It's a portion of the cave neatly sequestered by a stone door with druidic carvings. Inside, there is a small spring where we can freshen up.

He walks up to a stone table and gestures toward the spring. "Settle in, you must have clawed your way through chaos getting here. I can't imagine what you've already faced. Gnolls, Goblins, Ogres, Bugbears, Drow. They've all been haunting these wilds."

I finish rinsing myself off and walk over to him, toweling off my hair and pulling it back with my fingers. I lean on the edge of the stone table, feeling refreshed, though I yearn for the embrace of blood once again. "I appreciate your generosity. Isn't it common for lands like these to be host to such creatures?"

"True enough, but they seem to be organized. A goblin captive, Sazza, has been ranting about their new goddess, The Absolute. It seems this goddess has brought the goblins under new leadership. I suspect the other creatures have also fallen in line, given what we've faced."

"A true tyrant," I say flatly. "Why does it matter?"

His face falls and he tries to stand with poise, but his posture is exhausted. "These people are refugees from Elturel. I'm escorting them to Baldur's Gate where they can get a fresh start. They're no fighters. We've already been ambushed by gnolls. One of our bards, Lihala, distracted them, allowing us to escape." He goes quiet, the death still fresh in his mind. "She didn't make it, but she saved so many."

A hero among the desperate, gone before her time. I wonder if she's sitting in the fugue plane debating on whether it was worth it.

His eyes shift into a humble plea. "In light of the dangers, the Druids have started a ritual to cut the grove off from outsiders. If we are forced out, we will be consumed by followers of this Absolute. These creatures are insidious if they work together. We need to find their leaders and take them out. Without direction they should scatter, and the roads will be safe enough to travel."

"If they're pushing you out, how did you get in to begin with?"

Zevlor snorts. "A prudent question. This circles First Druid, Halsin, allowed us to take refuge in this hollow before leaving with that adventure you knocked out." His lip twitches with a faint smile, running it back in his mind. "In his absence, he appointed Kagha to be the First Druid in his stead. She is the one who decided to start the ritual. The Rite of Thorns."

"I see." I turn the problem over in my mind. If I help them, I'd be wasting my precious time gaining the favor of a band of helpless beggars. My party likely won't be onboard with such a venture. We have more pressing matters. On the other hand, if the Rite of Thorns is a fresh development in this circle of druids, not all of them will be on board with such a ham-fisted attempt at safety. It may be easier to dismantle the grove's leadership over taking on an entire goblin camp. That could prove far more lucrative in the long run. "Before I make a decision, I need to find a healer."

Shadowheart exhales, and she catches my eye. I give her a comforting nod, but our moment is interrupted by Lae'zel, scoffing. "T'chk! Placate yourselves all you want, but I need to speak to Zorru."

Zevlor is silent for a moment as if our requests were a tall order. "Zorru is among the other refugees, a bit shaken from an encounter with your kind, while out scouting, he may not be keen on speaking with you." He turns back to me. "Nettie is the only healer here, but she is in the inner sanctum of the grove. The Druids have barred anyone from entering, save for a precious few exceptions. You may have a chance to speak with her since you've already saved the grove from a goblin attack." He pauses, considering me for a moment. "If they let you in, maybe you can speak with Kagha, and have her delay this ritual of hers. It would mean a great deal to us."

I'll need to gauge the temperature of the Druid's before I can do anything. "I'll see what I can do."

Astarion throws his hands into the air. "Excuse me! Don't we have enough on our plate? It's not like we have all the time in the world."

My skin tingles as I turn to Astarion with a knowing smile. A little too broad. A little too confident. "I assure you; this will take no time at all."

He is unsettled by my tone and backs down.

Zevlor nods his head in appreciation. "You have my thanks, Brother. The inner sanctum is through the Hollow, just follow the incessant chanting."

We quickly take our leave, and as we step back into the Hollow, I scan the refugees for a reliable face to question regarding Zorru. I take in the bustle of the Hollow, smelling food cooking, hearing a smith's hammer clanging, and feel a faint hush of Feywild humming in the air. There is a forge just past the wooden structure; it might be best to acquaint ourselves with the smith. As we make our way, I once again overhear the couple's chatter.

"What do you think we'll do when we get to Baldur's Gate?"

The woman responds, giddy and hopeful, "Maybe I can be a teacher, or a baker, or a butcher!"

"...A butcher?"

"Sure! Blood excites me."

I glance up at her as she fusses with her things, a coy smile on her face. She was teasing him. Still, I can't help but wonder if there are others affected by my condition? Haunted with thoughts of blood. Or perhaps they are blessings. As she says, it is rather exciting.

The smith turns as we approach, giving us a humble smile. "Hello! Rare to see newcomers in this place. Did you travel far?" He cleans his hands with his apron before reaching out in welcome.

I take it in kind and give him a firm shake, "You could say that. This is an impressive set up, given your circumstances; how did you manage?"

He sighs, shaking his head, glancing at it pitifully. "A modest facility provided by the Druids before they decided to turn on us. Master Halsin, the First Druid, was more than happy to offer help before he disappeared with those adventurers. I've been able to keep her steady with what I have. If there's anything you need just let me know and I can certainly do my best. I'm Dammon."

"A pleasure to meet you. Call me Vash, this is Shadowheart, Astarion, Gale, and Lae'zel." Dammon nods to each, friendly and inviting. "I am looking for a man named Zorru. Do you know him?"

Dammon nods toward a ranger standing near a storage shed down the path. "Just down the way. He's a bit shaken up so forgive his demeanor, but he's a good kid."

Lae'zel immediately makes a beeline for him, and I quickly follow her, calling back to the smith. "Thank you, we may be back!"

Dammon waves politely but Shadowheart stays behind, addressing a different matter with him as we pursue Lae'zel. Astarion, Gale and I try to catch up with her but she gets to him first.

The minute Zorru sees her coming he ducks down, holding up his hands defensively. "Gods! Not another one! Why in the nine hells would you follow me here? Come to finish me off too? Wasn't killing Yul good enough for you?"

Lae'zel holds her head high, domineering. "That remains to be seen as long as you comply, welp. On your knees!"

Zorru sees the rest of us approaching and he looks at me with desperate eyes. He's mistaken me for a comrade. My voice is suddenly like a battering ram. "You heard the woman, kneel."

My word commands his body, and he drops to his knees. He's startled but quickly sinks into defeat.

Lae'zel snarls. "You saw my people on the road. Where?"

His voice is shaking, "Up the Risen Road near Waukeen's Rest, by the bridge."

I look at Lae'zel, "We'll get a map of the area."

Zorru pulls one from his satchel, "Here, take mine, just leave me in peace!"

Lae'zel snatches it from his hand and looks it over, "There." She points at a northeasterly spot, clearly outlined. "This is where we need to search."

I give Zorru a gracious nod and offer my hand. "Many thanks, and apologies for my companion. We're on urgent business."

Zorru takes my hand and stands but says nothing. Recognizing his deflation, I give him a nod. He quickly scurries off.

Lae'zel rolls her eyes, "Your soft heart will get us nowhere while we race against time with these Ghaik worms in our skulls."

"With all the impressive battle prowess the gith have, I'm shocked you haven't learned the art of diplomacy."

"Diplomacy has its place but it's a weakling's folly to rely on it when the blade works well enough. Now let's go."

Lae'zel turns to leave but I grab her shoulder. "We need to speak with Nettie first. I'm not leaving without seeing her."

She jerks her shoulder free from my grip and spits back. "Fine! I'll let you speak to the druid healer, but make it quick! Maybe then you will see how futile such an endeavor is."

I give her a patient bow. "That's all I ask."

I swiftly brush past her as she scowls, Astarion and Gale following me like ducklings. We finally make it to a stone archway, ornate with druidic carvings. There is a clash underway between the druid guards and another tiefling couple. The husband seems to be holding his wife back.

"Mragreshem! I don't care if I have to claw my way through all of you, give my daughter back!" A woman struggles as she attempts to lunge at the guards.

"Please, Komira! This isn't the way!" She doesn't respond and continues to struggle in his arms. He turns to the guards who are poised to strike. "Please! She's just a girl! Have some compassion!"

One of the guards spits back at the desperate parents. "She's a thief hell spawn, and she will face judgment for her crime!"

One of the guards polymorphs into a large bear, standing tall and growling a clear warning. Komira and her husband relent but the panic and anger remain.

I approach, and the guard's attention shifts to me, weapons at the ready. "Step back! This grove is off limits!"

"I need to speak to Nettie. It's an urgent matter." I stare down at the guard, then shift my eyes to the bear, languid and unflinching.

She hesitates, but her resolve returns and she holds a staff laterally, preventing my entrance. Suddenly another druid runs up to the guard and whispers in her ear. Her eyes grow wide, and she scowls. "You!" She points at me, "Kagha has requested to see you. You may enter; she'll be in the First Druid's chambers on the right."

A summons from the First Druid herself. It could be fortune, but it feels more like desperation. My smile is placating and gracious. "You have my thanks."

As I begin to walk in, I feel a tugging on my sleeve. I turn to see the mother, Komira, hanging off me, hands trembling. "Please, ser, you must talk sense into them, show them that true justice is mercy! Bring my daughter back to me! Out of the good of your heart, Brother!" As she pleads, she's on the brink of tears.

Her panic is a fantastic sight, but her words echo in my mind. The good of my heart. My nostrils flare as I take a breath in. "I'll see what I can do." I shake her free of my sleeve and proceed in.

The inner sanctum is a simple grove, lush and alive, walled by ancient stone archways that look like the beginnings of a structure that never came to fruition. At the center, perched on a mossy pillar, is a stone idol of the god Silvanus. It glows with verdant magic; a clear stream of water is guided around the shrine by a stone runnel. The Rite of Thorns is well underway. Druids encircle the shrine, hands outstretched, chanting the incantation with devotion... or desperation. There are other druids milling about, and I look for anyone that may give a whiff of dissent.

My eye lands on a woman, hunched and frantically whispering to a blue jay. I walk up behind her, approaching gently. "Is everything alright?"

She stands up straight, startled. "Yes! Of course." As she faces me, she is taken aback by my presence and takes a subtle step back. "W-What are you doing in the inner sanctum?"

My tail gives a soft lash, and I address her with an inviting smile. "I've received a summons from the First Druid."

She eyes me suspiciously. "Why would she want to summon you? I didn't think she was speaking to any more refugees." I sense a small glint of hope.

"I am not a refugee. I am the leader of the party that fought in the goblin skirmish at the gate."

Her eyes go wide, and she gives a respectful nod. "You're that paladin! My apologies. I assure you; I have nothing against your kind. It's just been..." She trails off, glancing around at the others.

"I understand. I've already spoken with Zevlor." My voice is low as I match her caution.

She locks eyes with me, hesitant, but that glint of hope has grown brighter. "Do you mind if we speak privately?"

I hold out my arm, "Lead the way." I turn to my party. "Wait for me here, we'll be back."

Astarion rolls his eyes. "This certainly isn't a waste of our very limited time."

Gale waves him off. "By the Gods, go, if you think you can help." He's inspired by me. Him and his tender heart.

I follow the woman to a wooden elevator that takes us up to a private grass-lined path. She pulls me over to a corner. "What did Zevlor tell you?"

"Your First Druid, Halsin, left with the adventurers and hasn't come back. Kagha is First Druid in his stead, and it was she who ordered the Rite of Thorns be performed."

She nods. "The sum of things." She's still hesitant to open up, but I see the concession wash over her. "I have been sending birds to try and reach him but have gotten nothing back. I've even lost some birds in my attempts. I'm at a loss. Your people don't deserve this, Halsin would have never approved of such a ritual. Surely this goes against the natural order. We should be sharing our bounty, not walling it off."

I glance down at the Rite, the chants and wavering druid magic hum through me. "How many others feel the way you do?"

She shakes her head. "Not enough, I fear."

"Do you think you can organize who you have, without being found out?" I turn back to her, to gauge her demeanor.

"Y-yes. I think so." She's nervous, but desperate.

"Good. Let's keep in contact. How long before the Rite is over?"

She glances down at them. "It should have been done by now, but something is wrong. I can't tell what. I'm not sure how long it will take."

Great, another ticking timebomb. Seems messy. "What's your name?"

She's gripping her hands and turns back to me with a stammer. “A-Apikusis. It's a pleasure to meet you."

My warm smile returns, and I reach out to grasp her hand, working to ease her anxiety. "Apikusis. A genuinely beautiful name. I'm jealous."

She snorts and can't hold herself back. "It’s nice to meet you, Jealous."

I grin at her clumsy attempt at flirting. "My party and I will be camped just outside the grove. Send a bird with news of any developments. I promise, I will do everything I can to assist."

"A druid and a tiefling, working together. Who would have imagined it." We walk back over to the elevator, and her shoulders relax, glancing up at me. Hopeful. “Silvanus himself must have sent you. Thank you.”

I place a gentle hand on her back. "It's what I'm here for, to see justice done."