Desolate Oath
Chapter 9
The Bear

Trigger Warning: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Animal Violence, Child Endangerment, Psychological Horror, Cult Indoctrination, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Trauma Responses, Religious Extremism, Loss of Control.

As Shadowheart and I step back out into the corridor, Lae'zel stands guard, looking frustrated. Astarion is leaning against the wall next to the door.

The moment we step out, I hear him groaning. "Ugh... you two reek of sex." His eyes trail over me, and he purses his lips. "Is he feeling better? Get all that frustration out after being taunted by the drow? Tsk. You poor thing."

He's enjoying himself far too much. "It wasn't about that."

"Hah! So you admit it happened!" He leans into me, looking over at Shadowheart. "It was inevitable. You two have been giving each other wanting glances since I met you."

Shadowheart shakes her head. "We're all adults here. Let's stay focused and find Halsin."

Astarion huffs dramatically. "You're such a stick in the mud. Though I suppose I should expect as much from a cleric."

She bristled with offence. "I can be fun! When it's warranted."

He sticks his nose in the air. "That remains to be seen. I will be holding you to that, you know."

She looks up, shaking her head, as if to beg for salvation from the cheeky rake.

Lae'zel's patience finally boils over. "Enough! Vash, your indulgences with the half elf are wasting us precious time! March, now!" She's on edge and swiftly pushes us onward.

We come to a door, guarded by a group of goblins. Shadowheart moves next to me, leaning in. "Give me your healing potions."

A playful scoff escapes me. "What, all of them?"

She gives me a knowing smile. "We should consolidate. I don't like the feeling of this place, and if this turns into a fight, you may need more than I can give. In the very least I can administer potions."

I dig into my cloak pocket, handing her the majority of my healing potions. "If it really comes down to it, I hope you have good aim. Either way, I agree."

She grips me reassuringly before taking the potions and stowing them in her satchel. "I have fantastic aim."

As the corridor opens into the main chamber, we can see "The Pens" appear to be an old dungeon.

Prison cells line the stone walls. They are mostly empty except for two large cells on the lower floor. The room is split by a banister, with steps leading to the main floor on either side.

Good crowd control. A particularly militant bunch of Selûnites.

Worgs occupy the cell on the left. On the right... the bear.

On the landing next to us are two goblins butchering meat for the worgs. I get a faint whiff of something humanoid. I'm certain of it.

A goblin is standing in front of the bear's cell, tutoring two goblin children. As we approach, I practice summoning the symbol of The Absolute in my palm. It finally sparks and phases into view.

The children provoke the bear, pelting him with stones at the goblin guard's direction. He thrashes wildly, battered and furious.

"We'll see if we can get some sharper stones. Make sure you aim for his snout, One, that should get him nice and riled." She dotes on the children.

As I close the space between us, I raise my palm to show her the brand. "True Soul Vash, I've come to inspect this place. Who approved of allowing children in the Worg Pens?"

The guard turns her attention to me and at first doesn't answer. She seems stunned. Frozen. The children stop their teasing and look up at me, faces filled with wonder.

The taller one speaks first. "A True Soul? Like Dror Ragzlin?"

I give her a soft nod. "The very same."

The excitement overtakes her with a big grin, and she begins bouncing. "You've seen the Absolute? Did she give you magic powers too? Can you read my mind?"

Just like that I've become Uncle Vash, magic man of The Absolute. I kneel, getting eye-level with the children. "What are your names?"

She looks elated and quickly points to the other girl and herself. "That's Three, and I'm One."

"What kind of powers would you like to have, if you could be blessed by the Absolute?"

One is still bouncing. "Oh! Uhhh... OH! I want to fly! I want wings like a bird! I want to see the world!"

Three's grinning but fidgeting with her hands. "I'd like to go invisible whenever I wanted to." She giggles and folds her arms over her head, swaying back and forth. Protect herself from everyone's eyes in a bashful way.

"I have no doubt you will be blessed by the Absolute as long as you have faith and follow the lead of the True Souls."

"Like you?!" One interjects.

"That's right. You catch on fast! Now you two head out. I've got True Soul business to take care of." One and Three deflate, groaning loudly before shuffling toward the door. The guard who had been watching them follows.

I stand and turn my attention to the guards, who are all vaguely paying attention to me at this point. "I'm going to need you all to clear out. I'll not be interrupted while my inspection is underway."

One of the other goblins raises his hand and saunters over. "Hold on! Who are you to come in here and start bossin' us around? I'm the Beast Master here, I'm in charge of these creatures! I ain't leavin'em to you!"

I press him, tracking his eyes. "I was sent from Moonrise. My orders were explicit. We will be marching on the grove soon. I need to inspect these animals to be sure they're battle-ready. If you did your job right, there shouldn't be a problem." I step toward him, my voice biting. "Clear out."

He grunts and postures. "No! You clear out! I'm only taking orders from Minthara or Ragzlin. Not some upstart who says he blew in from Moonrise!" He's shouting now, waving his arms wildly. "I'm sick of you bastards swooping in and trying to strong-arm your way into my affairs!" His eyes drift across us. "True Souls... you all look like a circus act!"

I glance back at my party and sigh. He's not wrong...

My attention returns to him and I smile. "Of course." I pull my greatsword loose and bring it down on him, but he rolls and dodges the blade.

He jumps to his feet and presses his fingers to his lip. A sharp whistle echoes through the dungeon and a worg materializes with a flicker of the Weave.

"Take him down. Don't worry about the summons!"

His eyes go wide, realizing the summons just put a target on his back. He begins to run and Lae'zel catches him with the edge of her sword. He only manages to let out a short sharp wail. Hells' flames flick up from her blade, skewering him.

A surge of silken magic engulfs the goblin butcher, still standing at the slaughter table but primed with his cleaver. He is engulfed in a siphoning spell, necrotic and brutal. His face grows hollow. He gasps hauntingly and bolt for the lever just outside the worg pens. His hand lands before he's engulfed once again. The door to the pens swing open. With a wheezing cry, he curls up and withers into a husk.

Shadowheart looks at her hands, smoking with a new dark power. She catches my eye and smirks. Her words are quiet but self-assured. "Shar has blessed me."

We hear a click and turn to see the roaming guard releasing the bear. She points at us, as if to command the bear. "Get'em!"

Shadowheart gasps and instantly swallows the guard in another curse of necrotic siphoning. The goblin bellows, and her hands begin to curl inward.

The bear tackles her, offering a less than merciful death for the final guard.

Jaws suddenly latch onto my arm, grinding teeth against the wool of my sleeve. I drop my greatsword and pull a dagger. Pain shoots up my arm as it shakes its head, trying to tear. With frustration, I begin stabbing the fucking worg in its thick fucking skull. The strikes lacerate but it doesn't relent. With one final thrust, my blade cracks through its eye, digging deep into its head. At that, it collapses. Silent. Pathetic.

I take stock, looking for the second worg. Astarion is on its back, dagger ripping at its neck. The blood is gratuitous, but it finally begins to fade beneath him.

I take a moment to grab my arm, shaking my wrist to soothe the pain. I stoop to gather my greatsword from the ground, pulling a cloth and wiping the blade clean. I turn only to find a wall of brown fur crashing into me. My greatsword is knocked from my hand and it skids across the cobbled floor.

Large, raging paws dig at me. I pull my hood over my face and bring my knees to my chest. The feral beast huffs and roars, snapping at me. I feel the hot steam of his breath. I grab at his jaws, struggling to shove my fist down his throat. Neither one of us is making any headway.

Frustrated, I bark sharply. "Get this bastard off me!!!"

Shadowheart runs toward us, casting a calming trance over the bear and me.

Tranquility settles over me.

The bear slows and shifts into a stupor. I catch him as he slumps on top of me. I roll him off me and lie on my back, staring at the ceiling of the crumbling dungeon.

Blood trickles down my face and chest.

The voices in my head are muted. Corralled behind a paper wall.

My eyes close as I focus. "Halsin! For gods' sake!" That's all I can muster before my consciousness ebbs behind another paper wall. Layers of tenuous thought being pushed further back before collapsing into a single mind, somewhere far away.

I'm lucid but effectively subdued.

After a stolen moment, I feel cogent enough to roll to my feet. My bones feel heavy. My body, cumbersome. "Halsin." I shuffle over to him and put my hands on my knees, head in a haze. "If you are Master Halsin, we've come seeking aid."

With that, the bear glances up at me from his lethargy. He slowly climbs to his feet and polymorphs into a large elf, barrel-chested, with long ginger hair decorated with random braids. Even magically subdued, his presence is commanding. He does his best to stand tall but he's struggling to keep his composure.

He finally speaks, anger still palpable despite his inebriation. "You are a True Soul. You said... you said you were going to mount an attack on the Emerald Grove."

I feel my mind slowly coming back to me, the paper walls falling away. I wave my hand at him, broad and dismissive. "Stories. All stories. All in an effort to find you."

Halsin deflates, choosing to give me a moment to speak.

I stand, rolling my shoulders. "My name is Vash Neel. These are my companions Shadowheart, Astarion, and Lae'zel." I gesture toward each. "We are sick." I hesitate. "Sick with a condition we've been told you're familiar with. This is a matter of great urgency for us."

He looks wary but intrigued. "Is that so? May I?"

I hesitate before stepping forward. Halsin holds up a hand and scans my body with verdant druid magic. After a brief moment, he pulls his hand back, eyes wide. "You are infected? And you're aware of this? I've never seen this before. How?"

I look back at Shadowheart. She has her hand resting on her shoulder, close to the hilt of her mace. Her lips straighten and I give her a curt nod. "Show him."

She appraises him for a moment, then carefully pulls the prism from her satchel, holding it up.

He leans down, observing. "...what is it?"

Shadowheart pulls it closer to her. "We're not entirely sure, but it seems to be shielding us from the Absolute."

He folds his arms and rubs his chin. "These are strange times indeed." He focuses on me. "But you are stranger still. You're tadpoled, yes, but your brain is ruined. Are the others in the same condition as you?"

"Ruined? Is there anything you can glean from what you've seen of me? It may go without saying, but I have no memories from before I was infected."

"Whatever happened to you, it seems intentional. It seems you've undergone multiple surgeries in a very short amount of time. How you're still standing is a mystery."

I wrack my brain and am given a brief and vivid image. I'm on an operating table; I've woken up, and my entrails are lying in a pool on my abdomen. There's a woman, doting on me. I am filled with rage as I strangle her with my own innards. As suddenly as the memory comes, it's gone. I run my hand across my stomach.

"And the tadpoles? What do you know of them? Can you remove them? Can you save us?"

Halsin holds his hand up, halting my questions. "I will say no more on the matter. You may have killed the goblins, but I see no reason to believe you aren't a True Soul."

I shift my footing and side-eye him, a pang of foreboding in my chest. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, I would be more inclined to help you if you can prove yourself to me. I need your help taking out the goblin leaders. They are an affront to nature, and a threat to the balance of the Emerald Grove. Once that is done and I can be sure the Grove is safe, I will tell you everything."

Astarion is standing next to me, and audibly sighs. "Gods, more busy work. It doesn't end."

My anger surges, but I quickly push it down. I press my hands together and gesture towards him, speaking through my teeth. "Master Halsin, with all due respect, it is my word that determines whether the goblins march on the grove. That wasn't a lie." I lean into him and speak deliberately. "I want you to consider how important it is for us to be cured as soon as possible."

Halsin's face twists into disgust. "I don't like to resort to such extremes, but if we're at an impasse, then I choose to kill you now or die trying."

I stare at him, hand twitching, tail flicking. His eyes burrow into mine with finality. The silence seethes between us. "You understand our position. We could turn at any moment. On top of that we don't have the means to take on an entire goblin camp."

"If you have been touched by the Absolute, then you likely won't turn anytime soon, judging by the state of the other True Souls."

He is right, the other True Souls haven't turned. That, in the very least, offers a modicum of comfort.

Still, killing Minthara could close the door on infiltrating Moonrise. On the other hand, Halsin's knowledge of the tadpoles may prove more lucrative. I have time to decide, regardless. "Very well. Give us a few days to prepare."

He seems assured but visibly uncomfortable. "I am choosing to trust you, my friend. I will remain here and gather all the information I can."

I lift my chin, still battered but assuming my paladin's poise. "Let our actions show that you've put your faith in the right company."

Halsin allows himself to sink into relief. "Good luck. Please, return as soon as you can." At that, he shifts into a mouse and scurries off into the walls of the temple.

I watch him go and the tenuous grasp on my patience suddenly snaps. My foot slams into a goblin corpse, sending it flying. It hits the wall with a sickening thud.

"Gods fucking damn it!!!"

I press my palms against my eyes and lean back.

"Aaauuuggghhh! It just doesn't end!"

Astarion pauses, apathetic as he stares at the mangled goblin body. "...well, I hope your little tantrum has made you feel better. It's been a rough day for you, hasn't it?" He pats my arm condescendingly.

"Careful." I snap.

He snatches his hand back and simply shakes his head at me.

With a sharp inhale, I brush my hair back. "Apologies. I suppose I put too much stock in Halsin being able to cure us. I was not planning on being every godsdamned person's little errand boy. I promised curing us would be my priority, and I will stick to that. We've just got more hoops to jump through... I suppose."

He scoffs. "At least you have your priorities straight, darling. Halsin acts righteous, but he had no compassion for us. That's not your fault."

His words are oddly comforting.

Lae'zel scoffs. "As undisciplined as a hatchling, Istik, I suggest you keep a cooler head in the future."

Shadowheart's eyes track me, measuring me. She finally murmurs. "There was nothing you could have said that would have convinced him to help us now. At least we have a path forward."

I run my hand over my face, feeling a headache begin to press behind my eyes. My tail sways subtly, self-soothing. I search the ground before finding a tuft of Halsin's bear fur. I pocket it and breathe in through my nose. "Let's... let's get out of this place."