We follow a well-trodden gorge flanked by high earthen walls. The channel stretches endlessly ahead, narrowing in the distance.

My shoulders tense, and I watch my feet as we walk. Voices echo down the path and thrum in my ears. I see my hands pressed against arched glass, bending around me.

"Listen." Lae'zel's voice breaks through the memory.

The echoes become clearer. Panicked men up ahead.

I walk past her, waving back at my companions. "Wait here."

Lae'zel scoffs. "She'lak."

Astarion mutters to her. "Better him than us."

The high ground revealed a goblin warband. Of course. It's always goblins. They've followed a small group of humans to an ivy gate...

...it's the fucking grove.

These shits just led a goblin warband to the fucking grove.

I should kill them and call it an accident.

"Lae'zel, come around to the right and meet them head on. Astarion to the left, bring up the rear."

Astarion snorts. "I’m very good at bringing up the rear."

"Shadowheart, Gale..." An arrow hits the dirt beside me. My focus narrows and my greatsword comes free. The skirmish is quick, but hardly bloodless. Despite tearing through a few goblins and a bugbear, I was pulled to the ground by a worg and smashed in the forehead with a goblin's club.

I break free after Astarion buries his dagger in the bastard's back.

Gale brings down the worg with a few magic missiles.

I rise, giving him a nod and rubbing my bruised forehead.

"Awww, you poor thing," Astarion says through pursed lips.

"Away with you." I shove him, but don't hold back my smirk.

The grove. It smells like bodies. Living bodies. A lot of them. A man and a tiefling are nose to nose, like belligerent drunkards.

I look around. This isn't just a druid's grove. It's a redoubt. The gate is the only viable entrance. It's well fortified, but there is room for improvement. The parapets have a low wooden gate, but masonry could allow for-

Astarion taps my shoulder. "Watch this."

The tiefling slams his fist into the human's face. I snort as the human hits the dirt.

"He called him a foulblood."

"Did he." I say tersely. "I should have killed him in the skirmish and called it an accident."

"More bloodthirsty than I expected, and I encourage you to follow through. Thoroughly."

"You're a little shit starter, aren't you."

"Absolutely." He says rocking his shoulders playfully.

Lae'zel catches up with me while Shadowheart and Gale are engrossed in conversation. They've collected a few pieces of gear from the goblins.

I approach the tiefling as he stands over the man, still seething.

"Busy morning." I say with a grin.

The tiefling takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Yes." He glances at me. "Thank you for intervening. I doubt we could have fended off the horde without you. I'm Zevlor."

"Vash." I give him a grateful nod. "Quite an eventful morning."

"It's certainly more lively than usual. I'm just sad it led to another needless loss."

He begins to walk down the path.

"Loss?" I say.

"Our gateman, Kanon, was struck down."

My face falls. "My condolences."

He's quiet for a moment. "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."

We stop in front of a stone door. The redoubt is an open cave system lines with wooden platforms to help navigate the tall steps of the stone. Next to the door is a communal eating space with a platform built just above it. Boxes and bedrolls tell me a few people have set up camp there.

Zevlor places his hand on my shoulder. "I'm just glad to see another paladin."

My nose curls as I glance at his hand. This man feels desperate.

"Come. You look like you could use some rest. I have food and a place to clean up."

"Your generosity is appreciated." I hear a voice drifting from up the path. A tiefling couple is walking towards us. The woman tosses a blonde curl as she clings to a man's arm.

"Do you think we can get a dog once we're in Baldur's Gate?" She says with a faint laugh.

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

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

There's something about tiefling women. I watch her a moment longer before noticing everyone has joined Zevlor in his chamber.

Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart are freshening up next to a small spring. Lae'zel is hovering over a stone table across from Zevlor. "...you must have clawed your way through chaos getting here." He says. "I can't imagine what you've already faced. Gnolls, Goblins, Ogres, even drow. They've infested these wilds."

I lean on the edge of the stone table next to Lae'zel. "Aren't those common in lands like these?"

"Yes, but something has changed. They're organized." He presses his hand onto the table. "A goblin captive, Sazza, has been ranting about their new goddess, the Absolute. This goddess has brought the goblins under new leadership. The other creatures may also be falling in line."

"I see."

"These people are refugees from Elturel. Bakers, fishermen, even a smith, but they're not equipped to fight." His face falls and he tries to stand with poise, but his posture slumps. "We've already been ambushed by gnolls. The only reason we survived is because one of our bards, Lihala, distracted them long enough for us to escape." He goes quiet. "...she saved so many."

"Another hero, gone before her time." I wonder if she's sitting in the fugue plane deciding whether or not it was worth it.

He grows quiet but Lae'zel fills the silence. "We are looking for a man named Zorru."

"Zorru?" He mutters. "What for?"

"We heard he come across some Githyanki." I say. "We would like to know where he spotted them."

"He's just returned from scouting near Waukeen's rest. Perhaps that's where he saw them. I haven't had a chance to debrief him yet. I heard he's a bit shaken from the experience. You should be able to find him in the hollow."

"We're also looking for a healer named Nettie." Shadowheart says, fixing her braid, carefully adjusting the chain that wraps it.

"Ah, that's a taller order. She's in the inner sanctum with the other druids, but..."

He finally leans fully on the stone table and meeting scanning our faces. He finally releases a long breath. "Look. I know this isn't your problem but if you're going to be headed toward the inner sanctum... if you can get in..."

"What is it?" Gale says, stepping next to me.

Zevlor holds Gales stare for a moment. "They've started a ritual to isolate themselves from the dangers of the wilderness. The catch is that they want us out before the ritual is complete. If not, they've made it clear, they're willing to kill us to protect themselves."

Gale takes a short breath in. "Gosh... that seems a bit extreme, doesn't it?"

I grunt. "What sense does that make? This is a redoubt. Unless they've discovered some sort of breach that they, for what ever reason, can't fortify, what sense is there to start a protection ritual?"

"The question at hand." Zevlor stands. "It all started when their first druid, Halsin, left and put Kagha in charge. Up until that point we were welcomed. But she's determined the threats are imminent and the Rite of Thorns is the only solution."

"Hm." My fingers twitch. I fold my arms and they tap lightly as I think. A ham-fisted attempt at safety by a very green leader, pun intended. "If we can make it into the inner sanctum, 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."

I meet his gaze. "I assure you, Astarion, this will take no time at all."

"More promises." He mutters. "I am keeping track."

"As a magistrate, I'm sure you have a ledger for everything." I sneer.

He scoffs but gives me a rougish smile.

Zevlor's shoulders relax. "You have my thanks. The inner sanctum is through the hollow. Just follow the incessant chanting."

"What do you think we'll do when we get to Baldur's Gate?" A mans voice carries from the platform above the communal space.

The smell of freshly cooked gruel. The sound of a smith's hammer shaping steel. The faint hush of Feywild in the air.

I recognize the blonde woman's voice, responding cheerfully. "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. Are there others affected by my condition? Haunted by ceaseless thoughts of blood.

We make our way to the smith's forge, just past the wooden structure. The smith turns as we approach, giving us a humble smile. "Rare to see newcomers to this place. My name is Dammon, it's a pleasure to see fresh faces."

I climb the steps to his forge and shake his hand. "Vash Neel. These are my companions, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion. We're actually looking for a man named Zorru."

"Zorru?" He says, startled. "Yes, just down the way. But, if he's done anything to cause trouble, please let me know. I'd rather deal with it myself than have you harassing the poor man."

I give Dammon a soft smile. "He's in no trouble. We only have a few questions for him."

Lae'zel turns making a beeline for Zorru. I quickly follow her, calling back to Dammon. "Thank you!"

Dammon waves politely. Shadowheart stays behind to speak 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 his hands above his head. "Gods! Not another one! Why in the nine hells would you follow me here?"

Lae'zel holds her head high. "On your knees, whelp!"

Zorru scans the hollow, desperation held tight in his brow. He sees me approaching. "Ser! Thank the gods. Help me with this crazed-"

"Grovel." I snap and the spell pins his hands and feet to the ground.

Lae'zel snarls. "It is good to see you are not foolish enough to disobey me. Where did you see my kin?"

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

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

"T-take mine, please. It's in my satchel." He nods toward the bag on his hip.

I dig the map out of his bag, looking over it. "There." I point at a northeasterly spot, clearly outlined. "Is this where we need to search?" I show him.

"Yes. There." He says breathlessly.

My focus returns to the map and I snap, releasing him from the spell.

Freed, he bolts.

"Skittish fellow." I murmur, watching him go.

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

She jerks her arm free and spits back. "Fine! I'll let you speak to the druid healer but make it quick! Maybe then you will see what a futile endeavor it is."

I give a curt bow. "That's all I ask." I brush past her and she rolls her eyes.

Astarion mutters. "Well. That was aggressive."

Gale says nothing, lips pressed thin.

They follow.

Lush and alive, the inner sanctum is connected to a deeper glade that runs along the Chionthar.

We are met at a stone archway by three guards and a woman with short blonde hair. She's leaning against the arch, speaking with one of the guards, a gnome man. They see us approach and she abruptly stands. "Ser. I was hoping to catch you."

"Me?" I say with a faint grin. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

The gnome man clears his throat. "Your deeds have caught the attention of the first druid. She would like to speak to you."

"It seems the stars have aligned, as I would very much like to speak with her."

The woman scans me, eyes lingering on my horns. "I have little doubt. However, a few colleagues of mine humbly request an audience with you before you enter the snake's pit."

"Snake's pit. Seems a touch dramatic."

She chuckles. "You'll see what I mean soon enough. Please, if you would do us the pleasure. The rest of you are welcome to relax in the ritual area."

Gale pushes me with a playful smile. "Please, if you need anything, let us know."

Astarion groans loudly.

"Make it brief." I say.

The druid woman nods respectfully and leads me down a bank to a stony cliffside.

She ducks into a hidden corridor carved into the stone. It's tight, and the walls seem to press in on me. My pulse rises, but it mercifully opens into a wide chamber, lit by candles.

I breathe. For fucks sake. This is inconvenient.

The room has a faint haze to it and smells of wet earth and smoldering amber. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with books, potions, and various gadgets. Birds and rats are scattered about, meandering and tittering. A man and woman are lounging near a large round table, sharing a hookah.

The man does a double take as I enter.

"I'm afraid you owe me some coin." The blonde woman holds out her hand to the man.

He's a dark dwarf with darker hair and a curled beard that hides his neck. His robes look priestly, but his demeanor seems indulgent. Not necessarily mutually exclusive qualities.

"Hah! I should have known better than to bet against you." He firmly pressed a few coppers into her palm. "How did you get him to come?"

"I asked nicely."

I clear my throat. "Excuse me, was there an actual point to me being here?"

The dwarf's smoking parter is a naga. Beneath her scarlet cloak, her body is coiled tightly. Her scales are decorated with wide bands of silver, black and copper scales. She holds her pipe like an aristocrat, and grins with a wily charm.

"Please, Ser, take a seat. We have an extra pipe." She pushes a chair out toward me.

"Another time, perhaps."

She scowls. "Busy man."

The blonde woman rests her hands on the tabletop, leaning in. "We'll get right to it, then. My name is Apikusis. That's Hembry and Emila."

The dwarf and naga wave their hookah pipes at me, respectively.

"Have you spoken to Zevlor?"

"I have..." I say slowly.

"Good. Then he's told you about the Rite of Thorns. He didn't seem optimistic when I brought up speaking with you. The fact that you came is encouraging."

"I came because I was hoping to speak with Nettie."

Her brow creases and her fingers press firmer into the table. "And you will, but we're here to make you an offer."

I lift my brows, and Emila lifts herself, pointing her pipe at me. "We're here to offer you coin. We need someone with a fresh face and experience in negotiation to speak with Kagha. Stop the Rite of Thorns."

"And what do you think I could possibly accomplish? A stranger waltzing into a druid circle asking to stop a sacred ritual."

Apikusis smirks. "Farfetched though it may seem, we are unfortunately out of options."

I lean a hand on the table. "There are always options. You need only ask where you want to draw the line."

Hembry coughs lightly. "Ser." He says curtly. "This madness needs to stop. Shrouding ourselves from the world is not Silvanus' will. Besides, pushing the refugees out will only serve to stain our devotion to the balance of life. This is not what Halsin intended when he left Kagha in charge."

"Are you saying he made a mistake putting Kagha in charge?"

He goes quiet, mouthing the pipe lightly.

Apikusis interjects. "We're saying he misjudged her. She's young, I don't know what possessed him to assume she was ready. Emila has far more experience."

Emila scoffs. "Let the brood mother lead us. Her and her feckless serpent have no backbone. Teela is just as cocky and twice as dumb. Silvanus help us if an actual serpent be First Druid in his stead." Her coiled body tightens and she takes another drag of the hookah with a bitter scowl. "Don't be fooled by the death viper's menace." Her voice is pinched as smoke escapes with every word. "It's all posture and no venom." She exhales the remaining smoke.

Hembry shakes his head. "Maybe it's a test. Silvanus must be testing us." He taps the hookah pipe against his palm. "We need a Peace Bringer."

"A Peace Bringer?"

"A term of endearment amongst myconids colonies. Having grown up in the Underdark, the myconids are as good as kin. I may have adopted some of their better terms. It's why I was initiated into the Circle of Spores." He says with a few contented puffs.

I consider their position. "If I help," I begin, "it must be on my terms. I cannot promise this will end cleanly, but I can guarantee an end. How much are you willing to sacrifice for peace?"

They exchange a glance.

Hembry slowly sets down his pipe and folds his fingers. "Ser, you need to understand something from our perspective. The Rite of Thorns does not take this long. At most it should have taken a few hours, and yet they've been at it for days."

A few birds chirp, and the candle flickers as they take flight across the room. A little wren lands on my shoulder, waggling its tail feathers and tweeting triumphantly. My hand aches with a cold desire to break him. I press my fingers deeper into the table, knuckles going white.

The seams of the chair creak as Hembry leans forward. "Something is wrong. Silvanus must be protecting us from the curse, but we can't truly know how long his protection will last." His voice grows desperate. "We need someone who can advocate for us. That's why we need you. Think about it. In our hour of need, a Paladin arrives and protects the gate from a goblin horde? Destiny. I have no doubt."

Apikusis holds up her hand. "Good grief! Let's not get carried away. The man just got here and you're already spewing nonsense about destiny." She glances at me. "Look. If you can try, we'd be grateful. Even if your efforts fail, we will still pay you. Half."

"I'm not a sell sword."

The hope in Hembry's eyes remains steadfast. Apikusis lifts herself from the table. Emila takes a long drag from the hookah, the tip of her tail flipping.

"I will speak to Kagha."

Hembry snaps his fingers and points at Emila. "I told you!" He turns to me. "Ser, you are too generous. You have our gratitude."

The wren flits away as I hold up my hand. "I'm not going to pretend the odds are in our favor. They're not. I will try, of course, but what I need more than anything is information. Once I've finished speaking with her, let's reconvene here so we can discuss next steps. If by some miracle I can convince her, then our business here is done. We can share a bottle of good wine and wash our hands of the matter."

"Mead, Ser. Our mead is quite excellent." Hembry says with a proud grin.

I smile. "Even better."

Apikusis sighs. "Thank you. She's been a handful to say the least. She always has been."

Emila puffs a few ringlets, then lets out a jet of smoke that breaks them. "If she becomes belligerent, do me a favor." She points the hookah pipe at me. "Deck her for me. You can have an extra bottle of mead for that." She gives a hardened chuckle. Only half joking.

"You are certainly a lively bunch."

"It is our duty to cause mischief." She grins wide. "Let us know the moment you have news."

"Paladin," Apikusis reaches for my hand, "thank you."

With a smile I give it a squeeze with a slight bow. "My name is Vash Neel."

I head back through the fucking corridor.