I leave camp alone, making my way to the redoubt and find the makeshift prison where Sazza is kept.

As I duck inside I see a woman standing with a crossbow pointed directly at her.

"No!"

I charge forward, knocking the crossbow aside as she hits the trigger.

Sazza jumps. The bolt whistles past her head, taking some of her hair with it, and striking the stone wall behind her. "Hell's teeth!"

I bark at the woman. "What in the Hells are you doing!?" My voice echoes through the cavern.

I swear to the fucking gods I will strangle every single person in the hollow if I have to.

She looks at me with fury, but I register a deep grief within her.

She bites back, not masking her feelings. "They killed my brother! They killed Kanon!"

Of course. Grief. The muse to the most idiotic plans.

The edge to her voice softens, but only just. "He was all I had." Her tail drags briefly. "What business is it of yours to stand in the way of my vengeance?"

I lean into her. "Her fate is not yours to decide! Erratic behavior like this isn't going to bring your brother back. Worse still, it makes you a liability. You're not singular in how you feel, but most people manage not to make it everyone else's problem!"

Her chin curls in frustration as tears begin to well up in her eyes. "I'm not selfish for wanting restitution! A life for a life. It's what he deserves."

My words hiss through my teeth. "There are things happening here that are bigger than your grief. Find a better way to mourn and do it somewhere out of the way."

She falters, her posture stiffening in defiance.

I press. "What is your name?"

"Arka."

"Arka." With a measured tone, I step aside, showing her the door. "Get out."

She stares at me with anguish and hate. "We've lost so many. Yet now, I can't catch my breath. Every time I think of his body-" She stops speaking as her shoulders fall, still clutching her crossbow. The tears finally spill down her cheeks as she holds my stare.

"UGH!" She finally storms out, but the moment her fingers touch the doorframe, she collapses. Knees give out and hit the ground in a plume of dust.

A few tieflings grab her. A man in a long tunic meets my stare, straight lipped and forlorn.

The comfort they offer her is gentle, nurturing, and offered far too late. They bring her to her feet and walk her away.

I watch quietly, feeling my hand twitch, before turning my attention to Sazza.

She sizes me up, sneering in a mocking tone. "Oooooh, big boss is my protector now, isn't he? You must be a gift sent from the Absolute."

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 name? You think we're going to be friends now?"

"Shut up. You're speaking to a True Soul."

Sazza's demeanor immediately shifts. "Yeh? A... True Soul? The Absolute really did send you to me?" There's a wariness in her eyes. It might even be fear.

"Yes, she will always provide. I need you to take me to your camp and introduce me to the other True Souls. We have business to conduct."

She snorts, crossing her arms defensively. "And how are you going to get me out of here? The tiefs aren't going to take kindly to you just waltzin' out with me."

I wrap my fingers around a rusted bar, testing the door. I glance at the lock. It doesn't seem particularly well fortified. "Leave that part to me. Do we have a deal, or not?"

She tilts her head up. "If you're really a True Soul, what are you doing here?"

"Scouting and doing far better job than you."

Sazza stands up straight, looking embarrassed, her normal goblin snark drained away. "Okay, boss. If you can get me out, then I'll be more than happy to introduce you to my tribe."

I pat the top of the cage. "Fantastic. Sit tight and I'll be back. I need to gather supplies before breaking you out."

"Be quick, before another tief tries to kill me!"

I leave her to marinate and make my way to Dammon's forge.

The smell of burning embers permeates the air, and I can hear the clinking of his hammer as he busies himself with his craft.

"Good morning, Dammon." I expect my face to grow tight from the breath of the forge, but it... doesn't. I'm a tiefling. Right. "Is Shadowheart's shield ready?" I begin to collect arrows and a few pieces of equipment that catch my eye.

"Ah, Vash." His tone is cordial, but slightly flat. "Yes, of course. I've fortified this one to suit her needs. I'm confident it will hold up leagues better than the wooden one she currently has." He pulls a freshly worked shield from his inventory and proudly hands it to me.

I test the weight of it, feeling the balance and inspecting his craftsmanship. "Well done. Where did you learn your craft?" I hand him the coin owed for the items.

Dammon takes it graciously. "Avernus. I was an apprentice smith in Elturel, and when the city fell, I was immediately put under the guidance of one of the many forges working to arm Zariel's army." His eyes tip down as the memories flood him. "A lot of people were delegated to fill rolls in Avernus, but not everyone had a place. They weren't so lucky. Post masters, fishermen, and bakers weren't so lucky. Not everyone survived not having a purpose." His eyes flick to his right before returning to me. "It's not something I can easily talk about."

"I understand."

He studies me for a moment. "I actually wanted to discuss something with you."

"What is it?"

"Zorru. The way you treated him yesterday was unacceptable. The man just watched his friends die, and then you him grovel to a Githyanki of all things."

My lips straighten. "It was not my intention to frighten the man. Our plight is dire, and I misjudged the situation. Would he be willing to speak to me about it? I can apologize properly."

"He's around. Not sure where at the moment. I think it would be best if you did. Please, refrain from the theatrics. We've been through enough."

I tip my head. "Understood. Next time I see him."

"That being said, I hope you have good luck on your adventure. After hearing about what happened to Aradin and his gang, I'm happy to provide all the help I can give. Please, take care of yourself."

"Thank you." I gather the gear and begin to turn, when I hear a soft voice and a soft touch on my back.

"Excuse me."

The blonde woman is standing behind me.

"Hello Ser. My name is Bex, and that's my husband, Danis." She gestures to her camp, and I see the man hovering over us on the platform.

He gives me a polite wave. "Nice to meet you, Ser!"

I give them a warm smile. "Nice to meet you both. Call me Vash Neel."

She leans in with a bit of mischief. "Rumors say you're going to take on the goblin camp. Do you really think your team can handle them?"

My gaze subtly travels across her body before meeting her eyes. "Are you worried?"

"Between the druids pushing us out and the dangers on the road, I don't see how we can make it to Baldur's Gate. The odds are stacked against us. I'm sorry to say it, but you seem to be the only hope we have right now." She glances at her husband. "Danis thought it might be best to speak with you, to set the record straight."

"I can't guarantee anything, I've only just started looking into the matter."

She stares at me, then takes my arm and walks me over to a private corner of the hollow, near the makeshift prison. She lowers her voice and leans into me. "I want to help with whatever you need."

"I appreciate the offer, but this isn't something you need to get involved in."

She scowls at me and hisses through her teeth. "I'm already involved, Ser. Look around you. We're sitting ducks waiting on someone, anyone, to help us. I'm not going to have you pat me on the head and tell me everything's going to be okay. I need to see it."

I'm taken aback. It's as if a switch flipped and I'm looking at a different woman. "It has been eating at you. How could it not."

Her brow is furrowed and she looks at me with determination. "Yes, though that's a bit of an understatement."

I measure her for a moment. "What help were you looking to provide?"

"Once I understand what you're thinking regarding our circumstances I was hoping to assist logistically in any way I can. Do you have a plan at this point?"

"...I have a plan," I say slowly, "but it's a tad unconventional."

"Unconventional? What do you mean?"

I place a hand on her shoulder. "Come." I lead her to the door of the prison and I nod toward Sazza. My voice dips low. "I've traded favors with this one."

She glances at me and straightens her lips before looking at Sazza stuck in the rusted cage.

Sazza sees the eyes upon her and proceeds to flip us off.

"I'm going to sneak her out of the grove. In return, she'll vouch for me and ingratiate me to her tribe. It will be the quickest way to get close to the goblin leaders."

She looks at me sharply, surprised, but not alarmed. "You're going to cut the head off the serpent."

"Essentially, yes."

"That's-" Her brows crease and she's quiet for a moment. "That's a very shrewd plan."

"Do you approve?"

She gives me a brief smile before her face falls once more. "Can you trust her to keep her word?"

"No. But I only need to get close enough. My team and I can manage whatever comes next." I know it's a lie, but given the tadpoles, our condition is as desperate as the refugees.

"Risky… but I understand the approach. How do you plan on getting her out? The others likely won't be onboard with you just taking her." I see a flicker of recognition, but she waits for me to answer.

I'm beyond curious. "I haven't thought that far ahead yet. What's on your mind?"

"Wait here!" She grips my arm before running back to her camp, quickly hiding something in her arms. "Here!" She discretely presses a potato sack into my hands.

I stare at it a moment before glancing at her. "Thank you."

"Please. Let me at least explain what you're thanking me for. Gods, the last thing I need is a pity thank you."

I bite my tongue, giving her a guilty smile.

"Just walk out with her. If she can lie still enough, no one will question whether you're carrying turnips or goblins."

The simplicity. It's actually ingenious. "So, we have a plan." I fold the potato sack and tuck it into my cloak pocket. "You have my gratitude. I can't say I would have come up with something so damned practical."

Her face softens, as she lets out a heavy breath. "Vash." She takes my hand into hers. "Take care of yourself. Precious few people have the nerve to walk brazenly into a goblin camp. I just..." She goes still. "I'm just so gods damned tired."

I pat her hand. "You've been through a lot. I understand."

She looks at her feet and murmurs. "I knew you would. It hasn't been easy for any of us." She meets my eye. "How do you keep going? I need to know. I need to keep going, but it's getting harder."

I begin to walk back with her toward Dammon's forge. "Sometimes we don't have a choice, do we?"

Her lips straighten as she watches the path.

"Bex." I place a hand on her shoulder. "You're doing exactly what you need. It does get easier, I promise. Each storm you weather is easier than the last."

She glances up and me and nods quietly. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected an easy answer."

"Never. Gods forbid we're cursed with boredom."

She breathes a soft laugh. "Well… when you say it like that."

She takes my hands into hers and gives them a hardy squeeze. "Good luck, Vash, and make sure the goblin lays still in the damned potato sack." She wrinkles her nose at me. She finally turns to leave and her tail brushes against me subtly. A hint of chamomile lingers in the air.

The odds are clearly stacked against them all.

It's like speaking to ghosts who don't know they're dead yet.

The hidden chamber has a few more assembled, as promised.

A man with cool hazel eyes and dreads, tied up neatly behind his ears, sits next to Hembry. They are deep in conversation, until Hembry spots me. "Ah! Vash! Welcome back."

The others look up as I sit near Emila. She hands me a pipe, "Thank you."

I take a drag. It tastes floral and sweet. A very specific type of pipeleaf. It's good. I feel a levity in my shoulders and take another drag.

My lungs don't burn from the embers. It seems I'm accustomed to smoking. Either that or it's my tiefling heritage. I can't be sure...

The man next to Hembry breaks away from the conversation. "Vash, it's good to finally meet you. Thank you for organizing this meeting. I'm Aelar."

"First Warden Aelar. It's a pleasure."

"It seems my legend precedes me." He says with a soft chuckle. "Kagha's been talking about me. She's under the impression she has authority over the Grove Wardens. She does not. I lead the Wardens out of necessity, we are volunteers, nothing more."

"Necessity?"

His smile falls slightly. "No one in the Emerald Grove has my experience leading a militia. I was a part of a faction under the Emerald Enclave. We worked to root out the Cult of the Howling Hatred. They were posing as druids, spread across several circles." He recites the information like he's giving me a field report. Empty and even. His eyes become vacant. "They were..." he trails off.

I tap the pipe in my palm, lightly. "Kagha means to position your wardens at the river front after the Rite is complete."

"Is that what she said? I'd call it bold, but it falls in line with her current rhetoric."

"I suggest you take her up on the offer when she approaches you."

Aelar scowls, "I will not put my people in a position where they placate that mad woman's whims."

"Placation can be an effective tool when you don't want to rouse suspicion." I lean forward, arm resting firmly on the oak table. "What do you think she would do if she found out about this little meeting of ours?"

He sits back and looks at the others. A quiet falls across the room as the gravity of the rebellion finally settles.

I take another drag from the hookah, letting the smoke fall from my nostrils. I reach into my cloak and pull the note that Astarion found and place it on the table, pushing it to the center. "This runs deeper than you know."

They each lean forward and read the note.

"By the gods..." Aelar murmurs.

"Olodon?" Emila glances at me. "Do you have any idea who that is?"

"I was going to ask you the same."

She pulls her cloak forward. "Not a clue."

The bewildered faces makes it clear. "An unknown variable." I tip my head to Apikusis. "Do you think you can use your network to get more information on them?"

"You couldn't stop me." She says with a smirk. "Let's see where this thread leads."

Emila's sharp grey eyes focus on me. "Where did you come across this?"

"My rogue." I mutter. "He may have been snooping around where he ought not to be."

"Good," she says. "Keep him off the leash."

"If you knew Astarion, you'd understand how impossible a leash would be." My mind drifts to thoughts of a leashed Astarion.

Emila watches me and pulls a very deep breath of smoke.

I clear my throat. "I'm going to the goblin camp to locate Halsin. I'll be taking my team with me. From there we should have a clearer understanding of what needs to be done next. In the meantime." I focus on Aelar. "I suggest you begin preparing the Wardens. Whatever this is," I gesture toward the note, "it likely won't lead anywhere good. This isn't just Kagha. It's Olodon and whomever stands behind them. We need to be ready for this to escalate."

Aelar sighs and lowers his voice. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to that, but you're right. I'll brief them on what was discussed here. We'll be prepared for what may come to pass."

A hand grips my shoulder. "Vash." Emila leans in. "Master Halsin needs to know what's happening here. If you find him, if he's alive…"

I place my hand over hers, pressing lightly. "If he's alive, I'll find him."

She watches me for a moment before leaning back. "Thank you. Truly."