Chapter Text
Sitting in that dingy cell with two smelly, growling worgs in the cell just next door, all Halsin could think about was how this was to be his end. Here, in wild shape while vile goblin children threw stone after stone at him, each one followed by a bout of cruel shrieking laughter. He could hear footsteps. Heavier than that of any goblin he had come across, and definitely more than one. The footsteps grew closer, and he heard voices. The stones stopped. He turned his head, focusing his eyes on the group of newcomers. Definitely not goblins, that was for sure. A Tiefling woman with tattered clothes and a broken horn, an Elvish woman with her hair tied up in a long twisted ponytail atop her head, and a green Githyanki woman with a deep scowl on her stony features. But the figure in front was who caught his attention. There, in the orange glow of the torches, he could see it. Short hair, shining as silver as the moon. Lilac skin, native to a place deep below the surface where few who lived above ground would willingly venture to. Piercing red eyes, like a dagger drenched in blood.
Drow.
Gods, just seeing her made his fur stand on end– more than it already was.
Any hope Halsin might have had of being freed was snuffed out the minute he saw her. She was surely not there to free him. For what drow had sympathy for any life beyond their own? She was obviously in kahoots with that other vile drow woman, Minthara, if he remembered correctly. She spoke to the goblins who had been hurling stones at him, and picked up a stone for herself from the floor. Large, sharp, and no doubt heavy. He silently resigned himself to his fate as he saw her eye the stone carefully, then glanced at him. She hoisted the stone up above her head. He braced for impact, for his head to be bashed in and for his skull to be shattered, only to instead hear a gruesome crunch and a pained scream from outside of the metal gate. Looking over, he saw the drow had instead brought the stone down directly on the head of one of the goblins. The other two goblins looked at the drow woman in horror. The drow woman in question looked through the metal bars of the cell, and locked eyes with Halsin. He didn’t quite understand what was going on. He didn’t know if she was a foe, but he also didn’t know if he could consider her a friend yet. But he would have time to contemplate her intentions later. Right now he had an opportunity, and he took it.
The drow woman and her companions backed away from the bars of his cage as he took a couple steps back, only to thrust his body forwards at full force against the cage. It immediately snapped free of its rusty metal hinges with a loud ‘ clang ’ sound that reverberated throughout the room, before crashing onto one of the goblins who was too busy staring slack-jawed at the bloody sight before her to move out of the way. The final goblin, one of the rotten children who reveled in his pain, was smarter than her counterparts. She scrambled out of the way of the metal gate, and made a mad dash towards the exit of the worg pens. The other two goblins who had been chopping up bloody pieces of mystery meat just up the stairs ran down to see what was going on, and immediately readied their weapons. The drow woman and her companions readied their weapons in turn. The Githyanki woman drew back her bow and aimed a shot at the fleeing goblin who was nearing the exit. The arrow flew through the air, and the Githyanki cursed loudly as the goblin threw herself to the floor to avoid its path. She ran out the doors, her loud screeching fading away as she got further. The Gith made to run after her, but stopped when she heard something. There was a loud crash from the gates on the other side. The two smelly worgs had now broken free, and joined the fight. The drow woman shouted out what sounded like a command to her companions. The Tiefling and the Elf turned their attention to the worgs, while she and the Githyanki focused their attacks on the goblins. She pulled her quarterstaff from her back and readied a spell to launch at the vile creatures.
“Arde!” She exclaimed, as two scorching rays were fired at each goblin. Two out of four hit their targets, the goblins both crying out at the searing pain of hot fire striking their chests.
More goblins had rushed into the room, no doubt on behalf of the goblin child who had escaped. And that’s when Halsin launched himself into the fight, running at the goblins full speed with teeth bared and claws ready. Everything that happened next was a blur for Halsin. He remembered screeching and war cries, goblin blood soaking his fur and filling his maw with every attack he made at the goblins. He remembered taking a hit or two from various sharpened instruments, before tearing into their throats with his teeth. And when the final goblin who entered the room had been felled, he looked towards where his possible allies were. He looked just in time to see the Tiefling woman land a final lethal blow to the remaining worg’s abdomen with her greataxe, and it fell to the ground with a pathetic whimper. And just like that, it was over. It was now just him and these strangers who had come to his rescue out of seemingly nowhere, for seemingly no reason. And Halsin intended to figure out why.
With a flash of shimmering golden light, he dismissed his wild shape and shifted back into his regular self. He staggered a bit, grounding himself to being on two legs once more. He looked down at himself and sighed. He may have dismissed his fur, but it was a shame that he couldn’t also dismiss the blood that had soaked into it and was now clinging to his skin and garbs instead. He surveyed the room, all eyes now on him. His saviors appeared tense, but not necessarily hostile. Not yet, anyways. He stepped closer to them, meeting their gazes carefully. Especially the drow, who eyed him right back with those eyes. Gods, those eyes. He didn’t know how long he could stand to look at them. So he didn’t, he instead looked at the rest of her companions who had now grouped back up behind their supposed leader. He took a deep breath, and finally opened his mouth to speak.
“Pardon the viscera. One should cherish all of nature’s bounty, but… goblin guts are quite far down the list. What reason would you, a drow, have for aiding a bear? You’re hardly known for your merciful nature.”
The drow in question narrowed her eyes slightly at his words before answering.
“We’re looking for the druid Halsin, and we were told he takes the form of a bear. Might that be you?” The woman responded cooly, tone even.
Halsin raised an eyebrow.
“It might be. Why do you need him?” Halsin stayed wary. He still didn’t know if he could trust these people.
“We’ve heard you’re an unmatched healer, and we need help. Badly. Urgently.” Was her reply. And this time, Halsin could see the slight desperation in her eyes.
He gave the group a once-over, examining them. There wasn’t much he could tell at first glance, they all seemed healthy enough. Some scratches and bruises here and there, plenty of blood that wasn’t theirs. Could definitely do with some more rest, that’s for sure. He finally looked back to their faces, examining their eyes. He looked at the drow woman. He looked past her mistrust, past the exhaustion, past that dangerous and terrible red. And sure enough, he saw it. The look of someone who needed help. He turned his attention towards her other companions, and saw the exact same thing. Halsin gave a small hum of contemplation. He raised his arm and held his palm out towards the drow woman’s face. There was a flash of gold, his palm beginning to glow as his magic aided him in his search for what could possibly be ailing this group of adventurers before him. And that’s when he finally felt it. An evil aura, sickening and unnatural and… illithid . The magic faded away, and he let his arm fall back to his side.
“Oak Father preserve you… You’re infected, aren’t you? The mind flayers’ spawn. But… something’s different . You’re aware of the monster inside you. You don’t bow to the Absolute, like the True Souls do. How is this possible?” Halsin spoke, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand his discovery.
“I escaped from a mind flayer ship after being infected. Maybe the process was interrupted somehow?” The drow theorized. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Perhaps… But I wouldn’t want to place all my faith in blind luck,” He replied. “I assume this is the reason why you all sought me out, correct?” The tiefling woman with the broken horn nodded her head, and chimed in.
“We talked to that other healer at the grove, Nettie. ‘Said you might be able to help us, that you were the tadpole expert.”
Halsin scratched the back of his neck.
“Expert might be a bit of a stretch, but it’s true that I have studied them. I’ve been studying them for quite a while now. Ever since I learned these so-called True Souls are infected with them. Someone is using very powerful magic to modify the parasites. They are using them to exert control over the infected.” He replied. He looked back to the drow in front, who stood waiting with her arms now crossed for him to continue.
“I’m sorry to say, I can’t undo that magic. Which means I can’t cure you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help. In fact, we could help each other.”
“How so?” She asked warily, narrowing her eyes every so slightly.
“I know where these parasites are coming from, where the True Souls originate, and I’d be happy to tell you where. But first, I need your help. I cannot allow these butchers to threaten my grove. The natural order must be protected.”
“What must we do, Halsin?” The drow asked, her eyes narrowing further in impatience. Halsin felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance.
“Rare is the beast that survives decapitation. Help me eliminate the drow Minthara, the hobgoblin Dror Ragzlin, and that perversion of a priestess, Gut;” He spat out their names with contempt and vitriol, “They are the ones holding these parasites together. Remove them, and nature will cure itself.”
“You do realize you’re asking me, a drow, to kill my own kind, do you not?” The woman asked with a raised eyebrow. Halsin couldn’t help the cold chuckle that escaped his throat at her response.
“You drow relish turning on your own if there’s something to be gained, do not try and pretend otherwise.”
“Not all drow are as you say. Some of us prefer to spare fellow drow lives, if we can help it.”
“I’ve had little to no encounters that allow me to believe you. Your kind are hardly ever friendly, and even less so trustworthy. Especially to elves like myself.” Halsin said, sneering at her. He could tell she was trying to keep from letting her anger show.
“So then why trust me, hm? Why trust a drow to do your dirty work?” She was trying to keep her voice as level as possible. At this, Halsin pauses a moment. Truly, he didn’t know why he was trusting her. Maybe it was the fact that she had other companions with her, and if they could trust her maybe he could to. Or maybe he just didn’t have any options left. Either way, she was here. And he knew she could help.
There was a pause before he answered. He swallowed dryly.
“Because you’re capable. And… right now, you’re all I have.”
The drow woman glared at him through her narrowed eyes, before looking down to the floor and sighing.
“Do you promise to tell us what you know if we help you? Do you promise to help us?”
“As archdruid of the Emerald Grove, I promise that I will help you in any way I can. But only after the three leaders have been defeated.”
The drow woman nodded.
“Fine then, we’ll assist you."
Halsin breathed a sign of relief, nodding back at her.
“I shall join you in your fight, if you don’t mind.” He said. The drow pressed her lips together into a thin line.
“Actually, that might not be the best idea. You need to get out of here and get back to the grove, they’re in danger. Not from the goblins, but from themselves.” She spoke.
“It’s true. Your subordinate, Kagha, is performing some ritual to seal off the grove and kick out the refugees. She damn near killed a child because she deemed her as a threat.” The elvish girl with the ponytail spoke this time.
At this, Halsin’s eyes widened. It seemed he would need to get back to the grove as soon as possible, before things went any further. He cleared his throat before replying.
“Very well, I shall see you back there when you return.” He made to turn around and leave, before he stopped himself.
“Drow. What is your name?”
There was a beat of silence.
“Vyssira. You may call me Vyssira.”
When Halsin saw Vyssira again, it was out of the corner of his eye as he berated Kagha for her actions. The Rite of Thorns was never something he wanted for the grove. Especially not while so many people depended on the grove for a chance at survival. Kicking out every outsider and isolating themselves from the rest of the world would have offset the balance of nature in unspeakable ways, and Halsin simply could not abide by it. Kagha had no right to act the way she had in his absence. He was simply lucky to have gotten back in time to stop the ritual, and put an end to Kagha’s power-hungry madness.
Vyssira and her crew had waited patiently nearby to speak to him until after he had finished yelling at Kagha. When he turned to look at them fully, they were certainly more blood-soaked than they were when he last saw them. Vyssira was the first one to speak.
“You let her off to easy. She almost killed a child, you know.”
“I suppose you would prefer I have hew skewered and hung out front as an example?” The response flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. “The leadership of this grove and how I punish my underlings are no concern of yours.”
Vyssira looked like she wanted to snap back at him, to give him a verbal assault equivalent to a gut punch. But she didn’t. Halsin watched as she instead closed her eyes, and did her best to get her breathing under control. She gritted her teeth tightly as she talked.
“It is done, the leaders are dead. Your grove will no longer be under threat from the goblins. Now you need to follow through on your end of the bargain.”
Halsin nodded, pleased with her response.
“Very well then, we shall talk more tonight at your camp. I believe the tieflings have planned a celebration in your honor. I have some things I still need to sort out and take care of before then, so be on your way. Oh, and don’t forget to speak to Rath. I believe he has something for you.”
Halsin didn’t bother to wait for her reply. He turned away as fast as he could, and strode off into the alcove, back to his study. So much had happened these past few days, especially just in the past few hours alone. He needed some time to think about things and formulate what to do next. He was intrigued by that drow woman, Vyssira. He had thought her a danger at first, just another one of those True Soul cult fiends come to toy with him and eventually kill him. But she instead freed him. She helped the grove, and saved a child’s life. Halsin had never known a drow to be selfless before. Of course, he knew they existed. The Seldarine drow weren’t exactly a secret, especially above ground. But they had been so few and far between compared to the cruel Lolth-sworn drow he had met, that it didn’t really matter to him if Vyssira claimed she was different. For all he knew, she could be concealing her true nature to backstab him and everyone around her.
Logically, Halsin knew it was unfair to think this way about her. Everything she had done thus far had proven his assumptions about her false. But with everything he had gone through, everything he had faced, he simply couldn’t help it if his rational judgement was more than a little clouded by strong emotions.
Nevertheless, the trials were only just beginning. Halsin would have plenty of time to discover more about Vyssira and her intentions. He would not be the prey of any more drow.
Notes:
Thank you so much for giving this fic a chance!! I’m not the best writer, but I like to think I’m serviceable enough to where my work can be enjoyed by those who aren’t overly picky. Constructive feedback is always welcome, so if you have something useful to say please say it! If you notice any mistakes, let me know those as well!
I’m actually very very excited about this fic because I have so many things planned for it, and it’s my first time with plans to actually finish a fic (RIP to my past unfinished fics who shall remain unfinished until I regain the hyperfixation as well as the motivation to continue them). I have chapters 1 - 4 storyboarded, with future chapters in the works. I don’t quite know how long this fic will be, but please stay tuned!! Thanks again for reading :D
Chapter 2
Summary:
Vyssira's official introduction, and her subsequent introduction to all of her companions.
Notes:
Apologies, this chapter took longer to get out than I initially intended. I had a plan for this one, but it kinda fell apart and I instead had to split it into two chapters instead of trying to shove it all into one. So for now, you get Vyssira's basic backstory as well as plot progression. This chapter is mainly exposition, but I still felt it was important.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Vyssira Zyndallith was born to house Zyndallith, a well respected house in Menzoberranzan. She was born the youngest of 3 girls, with two older sisters. The twins, Elaris and Maevyn. Their parents were devoted to Lolth, and had begun training them from a young age in matters of stealth and combat. At least, that was until Maevyn and Elaris began to form their own opinions on Lolth and her dogma. Their parents were not happy. Vyssira was very young when she watched her sisters get beat for the first time. She witnessed how they hurt and ached after, she witnessed how they endured countless hours of physical and emotional torment from their parents. After all, what would everyone say if they heard about the Zyndallith twins and their defiance? House Zyndallith would be disgraced and shamed for generations to come. And that simply wouldn’t do.
“Look,” Vyssira’s mother would say to her, forcing her head to still in the direction of where her sisters sat, tied against a wall in their damp basement. Blindfolded, gagged, beaten and bloody. “This is what happens when you doubt the word of Lolth, this is what happens when you disappoint us. Don’t disappoint us, Vyssira. Not like your sisters.”
It was a constant back and forth between her older sisters and their parents. A ceaseless push and pull of freedom and control. Until one day, the twins had had enough. They packed up some bags as quick as they could and in the dead of night when the entire house was asleep, they scooped up Vyssira and fled from Menzoberranzan, never to return. From then, she lived a peaceful life with her sisters up in Baldur’s Gate. Elaris and Maevyn found themselves jobs, and were able to provide a modest lifestyle for the three of them. It was during their new life in the city when Vyssira began to feel her connection to the weave. Something stronger than either of her sisters had been able to feel during their studies of magic. Strange magical mishaps would happen around her, without her meaning to. She would sneeze and the furniture would nearly catch on fire. She would get angry and the vines clinging to the outside walls of their house would claw their way in through the brick and stone. Quickly, Elaris and Maevyn found a tutor. Someone to help Vyssira gain control of her newly acquired wild magic sorcery. For a few years, everything was perfect. They weren’t rich, but their bellies were always full and their nights were never cold. Their food was never laced with poison, and their love for one another never came with the menacing aura of leaving a good impression on those around them. And most importantly, they always had each other.
It was just too bad it was never meant to last.
Vyssira was 15 years of age when she had discovered her sister's dead bodies in a dark alleyway half a mile away from their house. They hadn’t returned from their jobs the previous night, and Vyssira grew worried. She began looking for them, and when she found them, she didn’t quite know what to do. She tried to get the help of the Flaming Fist. They deduced it as a hate-killing.
“Drow aren’t exactly well-liked around here, missy. There’s not much we can do.”
And Vyssira was left alone.
She spent two weeks out on the streets of Baldur’s Gate all by herself. Without her older sisters, their house had been sold off, and most of their belongings taken to auction. Vyssira was only left with a few sentimental keepsakes, and the little amount of gold the three of them had stashed away in the event of an emergency. Her old tutor refused to see her any more unless she could provide ample payment, like her sisters had been. Two weeks living under old stone archways, two weeks huddled close to any nearby lamp just to feel a semblance of warmth.
That is, until she was approached by an elven man nearly 2 centuries older than her. Alvaric Malbray was his name. He told her he was drawn to her because he could feel the weave pulsing within her, practically bursting from her. As it turns out, he was a sorcerer as well. And it pained him to see magical potential like Vyssira’s wasting away out on the streets. He offered her exactly what she needed. Food, shelter, warmth, company - he offered her a new chance at life. And who was she to say no? She quickly became his protege, and he her new mentor/guardian. But he wasn’t what she thought, not at all. He started out ok, but after a while she learned his true colors. She lived with Alvaric for nearly 8 years before she finally decided enough is enough. At 23 years old, Vyssira left Alvaric behind to start a new life for herself. She moved to a different part of the lower city and worked odd jobs to keep herself afloat. This was the third time she had had to start over, and she was determined to make it the last.
That is, until a giant nautiloid ship had picked her up while she was on her way back to her home after being out nearly all night, working at the Blushing Mermaid as a barmaid. Vyssira couldn’t remember a lot of what had happened. The memories of the ship were all foggy inside her head. She remembered the tadpole being forced upon her, feeling the slimy thing wriggle its way inside her eye and burrow deep into her head. She had vague recollections of meeting who would become her new companions, a githyanki named Lae’zel and a half-elf named Shadowheart as they fought to escape the ship. Then they were falling. Down, down, down, when just before they were supposed to hit the beach, they were saved by some otherworldly force. When she awoke, she and Shadowheart decided to stick together. And as they surveyed the area, they managed to pick up two more survivors of the crash.
Astarion, a pale elf with hair almost as white as her own, but with a small twinge of grey to it. He was suave, deadly, and certainly more posh than anyone she was used to talking to. She had just hoped he wouldn’t make any more attempts on her life while they travelled together. And Gale, a wizard dressed in purple robes who - in Vyssira’s opinion - was quite full of himself, but in a charming way. Out of all the things she had expected to happen to her in her lifetime, pulling a wizard out of a magical rock was not one of them. But then again, she never expected to be abducted by mind flayers either. He quite rudely assumed she wasn’t versed in magic and when she had assured him she was, he made a rather snide remark about her not being a wizard, which is what he meant. She wasn’t particularly thrilled about his choice of words, but she let it slide seeing as they had all had quite the day so far. They happened upon Lae’zel while exploring more of the surrounding area, caught in a trap by some tieflings who looked upon the githyanki with fear and disgust. Those same emotions were then directed at Vyssira as soon as they saw her. After freeing Lae’zel, she too agreed to join Vyssira’s party so long as they were to venture onward towards something called a creche. Much to the chagrin of Shadowheart, of course. She very clearly harboured intense distrust towards the bloodthirsty gith woman, she just couldn’t understand why.
The Emerald Grove wasn’t what they thought it would be, as they all very soon learned. It was under constant threat of goblins, the tieflings were being forced out of the one place they had been able to take safe refuge in, and the druids seemed unwelcoming to any new outsiders, to say the very least. All under the behest of their leader, Kagha. A vile woman who would rather kill a tiefling child as an example than show any semblance of mercy. She reminded her too much of her mother, and she would no doubt have fit in perfectly in Menzoberranzan had she been born a drow. And Kagha seemed to know it too given the way she immediately tried to seek validation from Vyssira, assuming she was as cold-hearted and cunning as the Lolth-sworn drow people usually based their assumptions on. Vyssira of course shut her down as soon as she could, but the woman still left a bitter taste in her mouth. It wasn’t all bad, though. They were able to meet Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers. Who also just so happened to suffer the very same affliction as the rest of them. He was swift and righteous, someone that truly fought for the people. Vyssira appreciated that about him. He told her of his quest to find and kill a one-horned devil named Karlach. And of course, he joined their band of misfits as well.
But of course, there was no luck with a healer. The whole reason they had even come to the grove in the first place. Nettie, the one Zevlor had suggested they speak to, had nothing more to offer them than a bottle of Wyvern poison that came with a vow to drink it should they begin the ceremorphosis process. Vyssira didn’t like it, but she agreed nonetheless. And finally, with no other options left, she volunteered to lend her aid in finding the druid Halsin, a supposed expert on mind flayer parasites and how to remove them. He seemed like the best bet, given their current circumstances. And if finding him also aided the tieflings in their current predicament, then how could Vyssira possibly say no?
Along their journey to find Halsin, they had come across the very devil that Wyll was on the hunt for - Karlach. Only to find out, she was no devil at all. And Wyll had no real reason to hunt her. They aided her in taking down the false paladins who went down without too much of a fight, and she also joined them in hopes of finding a cure to the tadpole. It seemed like nearly everywhere they went, they discovered another survivor of the nautiloid crash. Vyssira was thankful for it of course, especially seeing as it made their journey that much easier.
The day was coming to a close, and Vyssira couldn’t be more grateful. She was drenched nearly from head to toe in blood, dirt, sweat, and other things she didn’t want to even think about. A soak in the nearby river and a hot meal would do wonders for her right now. And luckily for her, Gale had happily volunteered to take care of the hot meal portion. She quickly set up her tent and laid her belongings inside, digging her camp clothes out of her pack before making her way over to the river. As everyone else set up their tents and the rest of camp, Vyssira took her time stripping bare and dunking herself in the frigid water. Goosebumps immediately made themselves known, covering nearly the entirety of her skin. She made quick work of scrubbing the day from herself, then lowering herself backwards and further into the water until only her face was left out. She ran her fingers through her short hair, smoothing out any tangles and making sure it was clear of any blood or dirt. She could feel her body fully relax, even despite the cold temperature of the water. It was heaven, pure heaven. She didn’t know how long she was in there for, but she snapped to attention when she heard footsteps getting closer and the rustling of the tall grass nearby.
She turned her head towards the disturbance, letting out a small sound of relief at the sight of Shadowheart. Still, she crossed her arms over her chest to at least appear somewhat decent.
“How’s the water feel?” Shadowheart asked, stepping closer
“Wonderful. Cold, but wonderful.” Vyssira replied. Shadowheart hummed in acknowledgement.
“I’ll have to see for myself after dinner, which is just about ready. Gale sent me to come fetch you.”
“Ah, thank you Shadowheart. I’ll be out soon.” And with that, Shadowheart left her alone to finish up her bath.
Now fully dried and clothed (save for her still damp hair), she sat around the campfire with the rest of their cobbled together group, a bowl of hot stew sat in her lap. She eagerly took hold of the spoon and brought some of the mixture to her lips, blowing on it gently before opening her mouth and putting the spoon inside. She couldn’t stop the low hum of delight that escaped her throat as she let the flavor of the stew melt on her tongue. She chewed the larger chunks of food within the thick liquid, then turned towards Gale.
“You, my dear wizard, are an incredible chef. Where did you learn to cook things like this? And where did you even find these herbs?” Vyssira asked, dunking the spoon back into her bowl for another bite. She had only remembered taking substantial food items from the barrels and crates they came across, things that mattered more for the fullness they could offer rather than the taste. The wizard in question flushed a tiny bit, taking a bite of his own stew.
“Oh you know, just something I picked up over the years. The study of culinary arts isn’t so different to the study of magic, you know. It’s just a matter of combining the right elements to get the right results.” Came Gale’s answer. “As for the herbs, they’re just a few species I recognized as we trekked through the wilderness today. I’ll keep looking for more too, seeing as you all like what these ones did so much.”
Most everyone nodded excitedly, except for Lae’zel who sat several feet away from everyone else, eating her food quickly and silently. And Astarion, who held the bowl in his lap but didn’t so much as look at the spoon. Vyssira narrowed her eyes ever so slightly at him. Why he wasn’t eating was beyond her.
“Well, this has been a damn fine evening. I’ll see you all tomorrow, g’night guys!” Karlach tossed her bowl to the side and stretched, before standing up and walking back to her tent. One by one, they each finished their dinner and retreated back to their own spaces to rest after such a long, eventful day. All except for Astarion.
“Astarion, aren’t you going to go to bed?” Vyssira asked him. He kept his seat on the log he was perched on, but turned his head to look at her.
“You uh, you can go ahead and sleep, I’ll keep watch tonight. I don’t rest very well in locations like this.” He dismissed her with the wave of his hand.
Vyssira shrugged, and left him alone to guard the camp. It was a good idea, if nothing else. Who knows who else was out there, just looking to kill them and raid their camp.
That night, it seems they all had the exact same dream. An ethereal-looking figure appeared in all of their dreams, promising protection and safety. Telling them not to fear the abilities their tadpoles gave them, but to embrace them.
Gale had a destructive magic orb in his chest. Of course he did.
Wyll was a warlock for the devil Mizora, and had to answer to her every beck and call. Of course he was. And as punishment for his disobedience, he now had a shiny new pair of horns and other physical changes.
Astarion was a vampire. Because of course he would be.
The devil Raphael sought after their souls. Why would he not?
Of course Shadowheart was a follower of Shar. Of course the artifact she carries would become even more of a mystery, and of course it would be of githyanki origin and only fuel the animosity between Shadowheart and lae’zel.
Vyssira was getting real sick of big secrets real fast. During dinner that night, she loudly cleared her throat and gathered the attention of her surrounding party members.
“If anybody else has any more earth-shattering secrets to reveal, now is your chance to do so.” She said haughty, the annoyance in her tone evident with every word she spoke. It was silent, nobody saying a word.
“Good. If any of you need me, too bad. I’m going to bed.” And she did. She needed to sleep off the frustration that she had built up throughout the past couple days.
Finally, finally , they had reached the goblin camp. It had only taken several detours and lending a helping hand to several people along the way. Like that pregnant woman, Mayrina. Or that poor deep gnome tied to the windmill. Or even that fluffy white dog they had encountered outside of the village, Scratch. Vyssira hoped they would be seeing him again soon.
As soon as the goblins guarding the front gate laid eyes on Vyssira, they stepped aside for their entire party. Given the fact that the goblins at the blighted village had the exact same reaction, she could only guess that drow had some sort of authority over them all. There also had to be some sort of link between them calling her a “true soul”, she just wasn’t sure what yet. Which would explain how they practically grovelled at her feet whenever she even looked at them. She couldn’t say she enjoyed it, but she also couldn’t deny how useful it was to not have to bargain with any of them for entry. Inside the camp was horrid. Everything smelled of ash and blood and booze and meat. Now that they were in, all they had to do was locate the druid Halsin and get him out of here. And to do that, they were going to have to investigate every inch of this defiled Selûnite temple that these vile goblins called home.
This should be a breeze for them. In and out. Right?
Notes:
There is just so much content in BG3 that it was incredibly hard to decide what to cut out and what to leave in, what to change and what to keep the same. I tried to do it in a way that wouldn't drag on, but would also still get the important things out of the way. I will admit I began to get a bit lazy, hence the speedrunning of everyone's secrets. I hope everything still reads ok, though.
If I get things from the game wrong timeline-wise, no I didn't. If I left anything of substantial detail out, no I didn't :)
Next chapter Vyssira and Halsin will finally meet, but from Vyssira's POV!! Hopefully it won't take as long to get out, so fingers crossed!
I hope you all enjoyed reading!! As always, criticism is always welcome so long as it is constructive and helpful. I am not a professional author, I very much just do this as a hobby and to get my stupid silly little ideas out there.
Chapter 3
Summary:
CONTENT WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence, flashbacks of child abuse.
Notes:
Yippee, another chapter!! This one is a lot longer than what I usually write, but I really didn’t want to have to split things up into two separate chapters again. The chapters will probably get progressively longer, but I want that to be a gradual change. I’m having so much fun with this fic oml. I’ll try and work on it as much as I can, but updates will probably be slowing down considerably after this chapter seeing as I just recently got a new full-time job and won’t have as much time for this and my other hobbies. Anyways, enjoy!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was, in fact, not a breeze. The place was, as expected, crawling with goblins. Seeing Vyssira seemed to placate their hostile behavior somewhat, but only towards her and not towards her companions. After talking to some of the goblins around the camp, it seems her earlier suspicions about a drow leader were correct. There was a drow named Minthara who oversaw a large chunk of the goblins' activities, as well as interrogations. Vyssira knew that she had to talk to her to get any information on the druid Halsin, seeing as he was likely a prisoner here. But she also knew how drow usually were. If Minthara was as sadistic as the goblins described, then she was most definitely somebody who grew up in Menzoberranzan, and likely still held most of the same viewpoints as those raised there. So, Vyssira made an executive decision.
“Alright guys, gather up.” She beckoned her party closer. “Listen. This drow woman, Minthara. If she’s anything like the drow society I was born in, then that means some of you are going to have to head back to camp. Wyll, Gale, Astarion, go wait there until we return.”
“What? But why us?” Astarion questioned, raising his eyebrow and placing his hands on his hips.
“Because men are seen as almost useless, completely inferior beings in traditional drow society. And if we want to get information out of Minthara, you can’t be seen with me or else I’ll be seen as untrustworthy.”
Wyll and Gale nodded their heads in understanding, while Astarion simply huffed in annoyance.
“What, so we’re just supposed to walk all the way back to camp while you four have all the fun?” He whined. Vyssira clenched her jaw in mild annoyance.
“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. Now get going!” She pointed towards the exit of the camp, when Gale chimed in.
“If I may, Astarion, we need not walk back to camp. I think I can do the waypoint sigil circle correctly now, so we can get there much faster. No getting stuck this time, I promise.”
Astarion huffed once more, but begrudgingly agreed. He and Gale made to take their leave, and Wyll turned to go with them, but he paused for a moment.
“Are you sure you three will be alright? If things go sideways, you might need help.” He asked, concerned.
“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout us mate. We’ll be fine! And we’ll be quick, too. We’ll find this Halsin fella and be right back at camp.” Karlach’s enthusiastic reply came, accompanied by a wink.
“Chk! Do you think us so weak that we cannot manage some mere goblins?” Lae’zel questioned, shooting a harsh glare at the horned warlock. He placed his hands up in a placating manner.
“Alright, alright, it seems you three got it covered. We’ll see you back at camp. Make sure to come back in one piece, yeah?” Wyll said, finally turning to follow after Gale and Astarion, who didn’t bother to wait for him.
Vyssira breathed a sigh of relief. With them gone, this should run a lot smoother. She hoped.
The first seemingly important figure they talked to was a goblin priestess by the name of Gut. She offered to give them all something called the mark of the Absolute, to which Vyssira declined nearly immediately. Every single goblin they had come across had been spouting nonsense about this “Absolute” figure, and they had very quickly gathered that it was some kind of cult. They had also gathered that it was very much tied to the mind flayer parasites wriggling around in their heads. It seemed that anybody with a parasite was deemed a “true soul”, one supposedly chosen by the absolute to wield her gifts and control others. It left a sour taste in Vyssira’s mouth, the idea of being able to exert control over another being like that. It reminded her too much of her parents in Menzoberranzan. It reminded her too much of Alvaric. She could feel the goosebumps slowly forming on her skin and creeping up her body. She quickly shook them off, not wanting to continue that thought process.
The next important person they talked to was Dror Ragzlin, a hobgoblin who was performing a ‘speak with dead’ ritual on one of the mind flayers whom they had killed on the ship. Vyssira was reluctant, but to avoid any kind of conflict with the hobgoblin and those around him, she seized control of the interrogation via the tadpole. The hobgoblin cursed angrily, being left with only a mind flayer corpse and not a single answer he was looking for. He then commanded them to go speak with Minthara about interrogating the prisoner. Which, Vyssira could only hope, meant Halsin.
Minthara was almost exactly what she was imagining when she thought of a sadistic drow woman. She was commanding, intimidating, and her aura demanded respect above all else. If you would not show her respect, then you would be cut down. Vyssira now understood why the goblins had all practically grovelled at her feet when they saw her. If this is who they were taking orders from, then it’s no wonder they didn’t give her or her companions any trouble.
And yet…
Vyssira couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards Minthara. Something about her reminded her so much of Maevyn and Elaris. On a base level, the differences were night and day. While Maevyn and Elaris had fought for the right to show empathy and care to others back in Menzoberranzan, Minthara scoffed at the very notion of being empathetic towards anyone. But on a deeper level, Vyssira could see it in Minthara’s eyes. Behind the power-hungry sadism, behind the devotion to the Absolute, there was something else. A plea for help. Barely noticeable, but Vyssira knew it was there. Minthara had the exact same look in her eyes that her sisters had whenever they were being punished. Whenever they were tied up and restricted from doing so much as whimpering. Begging to be set free. Minthara was not following the absolute of her own free will, much like Maevyn and Elaris hadn’t been following Lolth of their own free will.
Minthara demanded they locate the grove and launch an attack. Vyssira gritted her teeth and nodded, promising to find the grove and report back. She, of course, had no intention of keeping this promise, but that didn’t mean she felt any better agreeing to such a thing. Once they left Minthara’s presence, Shadowheart let out a sigh of relief.
“That Minthara woman sure is… something.” The half-elf said nervously.
“Downright mad is what she is! Like hell we’ll ever tell her where the grove is.” Karlach fumed, some stray sparks flying away from her. Vyssira shook her head.
“She’s about what I expected from a drow woman in charge of a bunch of goblins. Don’t worry Karlach, the grove will remain safe. They’ll never find them.”
Karlach gave a weak smile in response, as if to say ‘You better mean that.’
Now, to finally locate the druid. And get out of this disgusting goblin's nest.
The one part of the camp they hadn’t yet checked was the worg pens. If Halsin wasn’t there, then Vyssira didn’t know what they would do. Walking into the pens, they were hit with the vile stench of blood, rotting meat, and shit. It took all of Vyssira’s willpower not to walk right back out and vomit. To their left, were some goblins sitting at a table and chopping up chunks of mystery meat, for the worgs most definitely. Down the stairs, she could hear shrill laughter and the growling of some wild animal. Looking down she saw the source of the commotion. Two goblin children and an adult were chucking rocks through the metal bars of the gate at an animal. Vyssira signaled for her party to move forward, so they could get a better look. When they got closer, she realized it wasn’t just any animal. It was a bear. Hadn’t those druids said that Halsin usually took the wild shape of a bear? That had to be him. There was no way it wasn’t him. She had to put a stop to this as fast as she could.
Vyssira walked up to the goblins.
“See? It squealed!” One of the goblin children said excitedly, picking up another stone.
“Again, hit it again!”
“Keep yer hand steady, Three.” The adult goblin with them said.
“What’s going on here?” Vyssira asked, crossing her arms and grabbing the attention of the three goblins.
“We’re juicin’ it up. The beast came in here with those robbers. Killed Dink - And Mince, too! Boss is thinkin’ of servin’ it to the worgs.” The adult goblin said, giving a vicious, wide-mouthed smile, showing off her sharp yellow teeth.
Vyssira thought for a moment. She would have to go about this carefully. The bear behind the gate (Halsin, hopefully) had its eyes trained on her. It was watching her every move. She didn’t want to aggravate it more than it already was, but she also wanted to get things with these goblins over with as soon as possible.
“Mind if I show you how it’s done?” Vyssira faked confidence and indifference. The goblin children nodded excitedly.
“Yes, yes! Make it squeal big and loud!” One of them chided.
Vyssira surveyed the floor, looking at the assortment of rocks and stones on the ground. She reached down and picked up one to the far right of her. It was large, fairly hefty, and had no less than 3 sharp edges. She tested the weight in her hands, giving it a gentle toss up in the air. She looked at the bear, its eyes swaying between her and the stone in her hand. The goblins all looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to chuck it at the bear.
Vyssira took a deep breath.
And brought the stone down on the head of one of the children as hard as she could.
Once the final goblin had been felled and the worgs had been dealt with, there was a sudden glowing light from the other side of the room that quickly dissipated. Vyssira and her companions looked over to its source. The cave bear was no more, and in its place stood a very tall elf with long brown hair, hazel eyes, leaves and branches adorning his clothing. Just as Vyssira had hoped, the bear had turned out to be the druid Halsin. He made his way over to them, getting a good look at every one of her companions. When his eyes met hers, she was taken slightly aback. He had a look in them that she couldn’t quite place. But as soon as she saw it, he was back to looking at her companions. Once he was close enough to them, he finally opened his mouth to speak.
“Pardon the viscera. One should cherish all of nature’s bounty, but… goblin guts are quite far down the list. What reason would you, a drow, have for aiding a bear? You’re hardly known for your merciful nature.”
Vyssira was immediately put off by his words. She was used to people assuming things about her, it had been done her entire life. But she hadn’t expected it from Halsin. With the way everyone described him, she had assumed he would be a wise, caring individual. She narrowed her eyes, but otherwise elected to ignore his slight jab. He had just been through a lot, so Vyssira would just assume it was just him being on high alert and wary of everything around him. Which Vyssira could understand. She inhaled, evening out her tone before speaking.
“We’re looking for the druid Halsin, and we were told he takes the form of a bear. Might that be you?”
The large elf raised his eyebrow. He was studying her, she could tell.
“It might be. Why do you need him?” He asked, skeptical.
“We’ve heard you’re an unmatched healer, and we need help. Badly. Urgently.” Vyssira could think of about 15 more words that indicated ‘help us right this instant’, but she elected to save those for a time when they would be needed.
There was a pause as the elf let out a low, short hum, seemingly examining them. He looked at each of her party members, seeming to study them carefully. Then he looked to Vyssira, and looked into her eyes. She felt like he was staring directly through her, like he could see all of her vulnerabilities.
He let out another hum, this time raising his arm up and pointing his palm towards her face. Vyssira squinted as a bright golden light enveloped his hand. He held it out for a few seconds, closing his eyes as he focused on his spell. When he opened his eyes again, the magic around his hand fizzled out, and he let his arm fall back to his side.
“Oak Father preserve you… You’re infected, aren’t you? The mind flayers’ spawn. But… something’s different . You’re aware of the monster inside you. You don’t bow to the Absolute, like the True Souls do. How is this possible?” The druid asked, and Vyssira couldn’t tell if it was more to himself or to her. She replied regardless.
“I escaped from a mind flayer ship after being infected. Maybe the process was interrupted somehow?”
“Perhaps… But I wouldn’t want to place all my faith in blind luck,” Halsin replied. “I assume this is the reason why you all sought me out, correct?”
From behind her, Karlach nodded her head.
“We talked to that other healer at the grove, Nettie. ‘Said you might be able to help us, that you were the tadpole expert.” The tiefling stated matter-of-factly.
The druid before them scratched the back of his neck.
“ Expert might be a bit of a stretch, but it’s true that I have studied them. I’ve been studying them for quite a while now. Ever since I learned these so-called True Souls are infected with them. Someone is using very powerful magic to modify the parasites. They are using them to exert control over the infected.” There was a pause, and Vyssira crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m sorry to say, I can’t undo that magic. Which means I can’t cure you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help. In fact, we could help each other.” Halsin suggested. At this, she was intrigued.
“How so?” Vyssira asked warily. If she wanted answers, then she would have to meet his demands it seemed. She just hoped they weren’t too absurd.
“I know where these parasites are coming from, where the True Souls originate, and I’d be happy to tell you where. But first, I need your help. I cannot allow these butchers to threaten my grove. The natural order must be protected.” He answered, and Vyssira had to stop her eyelid from twitching in annoyance. He would have to be more specific about what he was asking her.
“What must we do, Halsin?” She couldn’t help the annoyed tone that accompanied her question, nor the further narrowing of her eyes. In turn, she could feel his annoyance with her impatience.
“Rare is the beast that survives decapitation. Help me eliminate the drow Minthara, the hobgoblin Dror Ragzlin, and that perversion of a priestess, Gut.” The druid spat out their names with contempt and vitriol, “They are the ones holding these parasites together. Remove them, and nature will cure itself.”
Vyssira paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. Ragzlin. Gut. Minthara.
Minthara.
Every time she thought about Minthara, she couldn’t help but think back to that expression she had had in her eyes. The one of yearning, begging for freedom. The one that so painfully reminded her of Maevyn and Elaris. Something about simply killing her and being done with it just didn’t sit right with Vyssira.
“You do realize you’re asking me, a drow, to kill my own kind, do you not?” She raised her eyebrow as she spoke, to which Halsin responded with a cold and humorless chuckle.
“You drow relish turning on your own if there’s something to be gained, do not try and pretend otherwise.”
Her frustrations with this druid were growing. For someone who loved nature and species of all kinds, he was proving to be quite ignorant and Vyssira was growing irksome.
“Not all drow are as you say. Some of us prefer to spare fellow drow lives, if we can help it.”
“I’ve had little to no encounters that allow me to believe you. Your kind are hardly ever friendly, and even less so trustworthy. Especially to elves like myself.” Halsin retorted. Vyssira clenched her teeth together in frustration.
“So then why trust me, hm? Why trust a drow to do your dirty work?” She was trying to keep her voice as level as possible. She had half a mind to tell him to shove off, to tell him he was on his own. But that would mean they would never find out more about the parasites dwelling within them. She prepared herself for another insensitive and ignorant remark to fall from the druid’s lips. Instead, a defeated look seemed to overtake his features. He swallowed.
“Because you’re capable. And… right now, you’re all I have.”
Vyssira took a moment to mull over his confession, narrowing her eyes at him and searching for any hint of deception. There was none. He was being genuine.
Vyssira let out a deep sigh, looking down at the ground and then back to the druid.
“Do you promise to tell us what you know if we help you? Do you promise to help us?” She asked.
“As archdruid of the Emerald Grove, I promise that I will help you in any way I can. But only after the three leaders have been defeated.” Came Halsin’s reply.
“Fine then, we’ll assist you.” Vyssira nodded her head as she voiced her agreement. She watched as Halsin breathed a deep sigh of relief, nodding in response.
“I shall join you in your fight, if you don’t mind.” Halsin stated. At this, Vyssira couldn’t help but feel uncertain. There were multiple reasons she didn’t necessarily want him there. The first was that he didn’t seem to have the kindest perception of her. Vyssira didn’t know if she could trust him to have her back in the battles to come. The second was, while she had seen him fight and could tell he knew his way around a battlefield, she didn’t know how well he would do with taking orders. And as the de facto leader of their strange little group, Vyssira needed someone she knew who could reliably take orders. And third, there was the matter of the grove. Things had grown increasingly tense between its inhabitants without the guidance of their archdruid. With all this in mind, Vyssira simply couldn’t let Halsin join her.
“Actually, that might not be the best idea. You need to get out of here and get back to the grove, they’re in danger. Not from the goblins, but from themselves.” She argued.
“It’s true. Your subordinate, Kagha, is performing some ritual to seal off the grove and kick out the refugees. She damn near killed a child for a single mistake.” Shadowheart came to her aid, corroborating her claim. It seemed to work, seeing as Halsin’s eyes widened upon hearing their words. He cleared his throat.
“Very well, I shall see you back there when you return.” He made to turn around and leave, but stopped himself.
“Drow. What is your name?” He asked.
Vyssira was taken slightly aback, before feeling foolish. She had gotten so wrapped up in negotiating information and calming her frustrations with him that she had completely neglected to introduce herself or anyone else by her side. She mentally face-palmed.
“Vyssira. You may call me Vyssira.”
Halsin had left soon after Vyssira introduced herself, shifting into an inconspicuous mouse and scurrying quietly out of the goblins' camp. Why he hadn’t done this from the start, and instead had to be rescued like a damsel in distress, was beyond her. Alas, she didn’t have time to dwell on it now. Their first priority was killing the goblins’ leaders, and they needed a plan. Vyssira motioned for her three companions to gather closer to her.
“Tsk’va. Foolish of you to let the druid leave when he offered his might in battle.” Lae’zel made her disappointment clear. Vyssira simply shook her head. She opened her mouth to respond, but Shadowheart beat her to it.
“No, what’s foolish is walking around with a prisoner who we just freed in a place where he is very much not supposed to be set free. This place is teeming with bloodthirsty goblins, and the last thing we need is all of them swarming us.” Shadowheart sneered at the gith.
“If a few meagre goblins are enough to frighten you, then perhaps you too should have gone back to camp with the others.” Came Lae’zel’s quick retort. Shadowheart clenched her fists at her sides.
Vyssira could feel the beginnings of a headache. She in no way wanted to deal with yet another of Shadowheart’s and Lae’zel’s spats. Not when she still felt the lingering frustration of her negotiation with Halsin, and the general fatigue of today’s events slowly but surely creeping in.
“You are so incredibly ignorant that I don’t-”
“ Enough!!” Vyssira exclaimed, cutting off Shadowheart and grabbing the attention of her arguing companions as well as Karlach, who had been watching their escalating feud with silent interest.
“We have enough problems piling up already, can we please not add your petty arguments to the top of that pile?” She took a second to compose herself, taking a deep breath before talking again.
“Shadowheart is right,” The half-elf smirked in Lae’zel’s direction. “We have to do this carefully. A few goblins aren’t a problem, but an entire camp is. Having Halsin with us would draw too much negative attention, and we just can’t afford that right now.”
“So what’s the plan then, soldier?” It was Karlach who finally had a chance to speak.
Vyssira thought for a moment.
“First, we take out the war drums. We can’t let them call in reinforcements. Then, we go for Gut. With the drums gone, only the Goblins in the main sanctum should hear us coming.” Her companions listened carefully as Vyssira explained her thought process.
“After we take out Gut, next is the hobgoblin Ragzlin. Same plan, target the drums first before anything else.”
Vyssira paused.
“And what about Minthara?” Karlach asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Minthara…” Vyssira paused. There it was again, that sinking feeling she had when she thought about killing Minthara. Logically, she knew she had to do it. Minthara had made her plans for the grove very clear, and Halsin had laid out the terms of their agreement plain and simple. For them to get the information they needed, all three leaders had to die. And yet…
Vyssira swallowed dryly before answering.
“Minthara will be easy. She’s secluded and only has one other goblin with her. We just have to make sure to get the scrying eye first. Then we corner her and attack.”
There was a moment of silence before her companions nodded their heads and mumbled affirmations, all in agreement with her plan. Karlach smirked.
“Knew there was a reason we put you in charge!” The tiefling said excitedly, winding up to clap Vyssira on the back before thinking better of it (for which Vyssira was grateful. She’d rather not have massive burns across her back). Vyssira felt a small blush creep up onto her cheeks. She pushed her bashfulness back down for now.
“Check the room for supplies, and loot these goblins.” She motioned to the corpses of the goblins they had fought with Halsin. “They could have something useful on them.”
Lae’zel and Shadowheart split and began searching the room and the bodies, but Karlach came closer to Vyssira. She lowered her voice, a sincere look overtaking her features.
“You doing alright there soldier? You looked ‘bout ready to punch that big druid guy.” Karlach was… concerned? Vyssira couldn’t remember the last time someone was genuinely concerned for her well-being. She blinked. Had she really been that obvious in her disdain?
“He got on my nerves, but that’s all. I’m used to this kind of treatment from people. Plus, I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in ages. So I’m probably more irritable than usual.”
Karlach nodded in understanding, seemingly pleased with her answer.
“I hear ya. You and I, tiefling and drow, got it rough out here. Everyone thinks they know us. All we can do is prove them wrong, right?”
Vyssira simply nodded.
“Hang in there, ya hear me soldier?”
Vyssira didn’t think she had a choice.
The plan had been going off nearly without a hitch so far. Nearly. During the fight against Gut, some of the goblins surrounding her had taken to the high wooden beams above and rained down arrows upon them. Nothing they couldn’t handle of course, not with Karlach climbing up after them and sending them all hurtling back down towards the cracked stony floors. Both Gut and Ragzlin had been taken care of, leaving only Minthara. For the third time that day, Vyssira felt uneasy about killing Minthara. Nevertheless, she knew it had to be done. She breathed deeply. She could feel her energy wearing thin, and she could see it on the others too. Exhaustion. They had better make this quick. She didn’t know how many more spells she would be able to cast.
The four of them neared Minthara’s small hideaway. The scrying eye was in view. Vyssira signaled to Lae’zel, who immediately fired an arrow at it. It disappeared in a puff of indigo and purple. They advanced further, Minthara now completely in view. She still stood behind the wooden table, mulling over battle plans, infiltration tactics, and maps. She looked up when she caught sight of Vyssira.
“Back so soon, sister? Do you bring new intel?” Minthara asked, her lips quirked upward. Vyssira looked at her. She looked at her eyes. They still held that same look in them, buried deep within.
‘Get me out.’
Vyssira shook the thought from her head. They had a job to do. She reached for the quarterstaff on her back, the others readying their weapons as well. Minthara’s expression immediately fell to one of confusion, and then rage. She in turn reached for her sword, preparing to charge in. The goblin whom she had been reprimanding when they had met her earlier leapt into action as well, drawing his weapon.
“Tormentum!!” Vyssira recited the incantation, feeling the magic within her swell before bursting out towards its target.
The goblin was the first to fall, a rapid onslaught of magic missiles all aimed directly at his chest sending him falling to the ground in a heap, dead. His weapon clattering beside him.
Minthara launched into action, sword glinting in the torchlight as she charged directly towards Vyssira with murderous intent. Vyssira barely had enough time to move out of the way, the paladin’s sword missing her by just an inch. She let out a breath before immediately having to dodge yet another vicious swing of the sword. Vyssira flung herself backwards with a yelp, landing on the creaky wooden pathway that bridged over a very large chasm. She cried out in pain as she landed directly on her tailbone. She would definitely be feeling that one later.
Minthara made to swing at her again, raising her sword above her head to bring it down directly on Vyssira. Karlach leapt in front of her, getting down on one knee and raising her axe defensively against Minthara’s sword. It swung down and dug into the wooden handle of it, between Karlach’s hands. Minthara gritted her teeth, and Karlach grunted as she pushed back against the sword. The tiefling gave a forceful shove, Minthara and her sword sent stumbling backward.
Vyssira was yanked to her feet by Shadowheart, who then pulled her behind her as she readied a Guiding Bolt spell to launch at Minthara.
“Flagra!!” Shadowheart cried out, sending out the guiding bolt. She cursed loudly as it missed her target, Minthara dropping to the floor and rolling to her side before pushing herself back to her feet.
“A good effort, but not good enough! You will die in the name of the Absolute!” Minthara shouted, readying her blade once more.
Vyssira took a deep breath, assessing herself and the situation. She had enough energy for one more spell. She had to make it count. She steadied her breathing, adjusting the grip on her quarterstaff so only one hand held it. With a precise wave of her hand, she conjured an ice knife and sent it flying towards the drow on the other side of the chasm. It didn’t quite go where she intended it to, digging directly into the armor on Minthara’s legs instead of her abdomen, but at the very least it still hit her. Minthara cried out in pained frustration as the shard of ice then exploded, sending smaller shards of ice splintering into her face and creating an icy surface, freezing her to the ground. She pulled at her legs, attempting to free them from the ice. They wouldn’t budge. When that didn’t work, she instead raised her sword.
“Arde!!”
As the word left Minthara’s mouth, her sword lit with a blazing fire. She swung it downwards, the ice surrounding her feet and legs melting almost immediately and forming a puddle in its place. Minthara looked up and gave a devious smirk at Vyssira, as if to say ‘You’ll need to do better than that.’ Vyssira cursed under her breath.
Lae’zel nocked an arrow in her bow, drawing it back before sending it hurtling towards Minthara’s face. She turned away, the arrow instead grazing against her cheek resulting in a shallow wound. Lae’zel was about to nock another arrow, when Vyssira had a realization. She looked at the puddle of water surrounding Minthara. She quickly slung her pack over to her front, where she immediately began rummaging through until she found what she needed. A long, narrow stick with feathered fletching on the back, and a carefully formed glass bulb on the front with pulsing electricity flickering inside. An arrow of lightning. Vyssira whistled to get Lae’zel’s attention before she shot. Lae’zel turned towards her with a sharp questioning gaze, before her eyes fell upon the arrow in her hand. Vyssira motioned towards the water on the ground, and the githyanki knew exactly what to do. Lae’zel smirked, putting away the regular arrow she had before and letting the arrow of lightning take its place.
She pulled the bowstring back and watched as the arrow soared over the chasm, directly into the puddle of water. The effects were instantaneous. The glass around the end of the arrow shattered, the lightning held within immediately jolting across the surface of the water and shocking Minthara who stood directly in the center. Her entire body seized up, mouth falling open in a scream as the electricity made its way up and down and throughout her entire body. She leapt from her spot, landing just outside of the puddle, before collapsing to her hands and knees as she took in deep, heaving breaths.
Karlach gripped her greataxe, seeing an opportunity. She began to step forward towards Minthara, readying her weapon for the killing blow.
And that’s when it happened.
Minthara turned her head upwards and looked directly at Vyssira. The pleading look in her eyes that had been previously buried was now front and center. Begging to be set free, but not like this. Begging for control of her own body again. Begging for another chance at life, to not bow to the whims of a deity she didn’t believe in. Minthara didn’t want to die, and she especially didn’t want to die in servitude of a false god. Just like Maevyn. Just like Elaris. It had been decades since Vyssira had seen her sisters, and even more since she had seen them with such fear in their eyes.
Bound and gagged in the dungeons of the Zyndallith estate, back in Menzoberranzan. Her mother scolded them as she brought her whip down on them over and over, reciting the teachings of Lolth. All the while, her father held her still and forced her to watch. For this was what happened to those who defied the Spider Queen. To those who dared to so much as think about rejecting the way of life in Menzoberranzan, in the Zyndallith household.
It was then and there that Vyssira knew what she had to do. She couldn’t let Minthara die. Not now, and not like this. There was still hope for her, she just knew there was.
As quickly as she could, Vyssira leapt into action. She gripped her quarterstaff tightly and darted across the small wooden bridge, nearly tripping on a small raised plank. She avoided the puddle of electrified water, diving in front of Minthara just before Karlach brought down her greataxe. Karlach swiftly halted her movements, staring at Vyssira in bewilderment.
“Tsk’va! Move out of the way, kainyank! She must die!” Lae’zel yelled at her from the other side, fury and confusion woven into her words.
“What’s gotten into you, soldier?”
“Dammit, move! We don’t have time for this!”
Her other two companions exclaimed alongside each other, equally as confused. Vyssira looked behind her, Minthara too seemed dumbfounded. And yet relieved at the same time. Minthara and Vyssira locked eyes once more. Minthara’s gaze then flicked to the left of her. Vyssira followed her line of sight. She was looking at her dropped sword. Minthara got up and quickly tried to move towards it. But she was still sluggish and sloppy after being electrocuted, and Vyssira was much quicker. She kicked the sword out of her reach, then spun around and smacked Minthara as hard as she could against the side of her head with her quarterstaff. Minthara collapsed to the ground, out cold. Vyssira felt her neck just to be certain, and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the pulsing of her heart.
“Um, soldier, not that I want to question your authority, but what the fuck was that? We’re supposed to kill her. But you stopped me.” Karlach said after a moment, clearly irritated. Vyssira looked at her. Then she looked over at Shadowheart and Lae’zel. They all awaited answers. And truly, what was she supposed to say to them? Was she just supposed to explain her tragic past to them right then and there? Was she supposed to tell them the reason she didn’t go through with the final part of her own plan was because Minthara looked scared? Everyone looked scared before death. That was just how things were. She searched her brain, looking for something to say. Something, anything that would appease her agitated and confused companions.
“I- She- She could be useful to us. In the future. You saw how strong of a fighter she was, just imagine how that strength could serve us.” The words practically flung themselves out of Vyssira’s mouth.
“Oh? And how exactly do you plan on convincing her to actually lend us that strength, hm? Last I checked, we just killed half of her soldiers and then tried to kill her.” Shadowheart said, narrowing her eyes at Vyssira.
“I-I saw something in her eyes. She wasn’t entirely herself. I just have this gut feeling that if we let her live, it will benefit us in the future. Please, just trust me on this?” Vyssira pleaded desperately, biting her lip and knitting her eyebrows together. There was a beat of silence.
“Alright, soldier. I don’t know about this one, but I trust you. You haven’t led us the wrong way yet. Don’t let this be what changes that, ya hear?” Karlach said, swinging her axe back around her rest on her back once more. Lae’zel and Shadowheart lowered their weapons as well, though they still looked skeptical. Vyssira breathed yet another deep sigh of relief, thankful that her rather flimsy excuse had been enough to convince them. It wasn’t like she was entirely lying either. She had been telling the truth about Minthara not being fully herself. She just didn’t quite know if they’d see her again in the future, or if she’d even be willing to join them. The chances of that were very slim.
“What do we do with her now? Do we just leave her here? And what do we tell Halsin?” Shadowheart asked. Vyssira thought for a moment.
“Tie up her wrists and ankles, and leave her here. I have a feeling we’ll see her again.” Vyssira hoped, anyways. “And Halsin doesn’t hear of this, understand? As far as he knows, we killed Minthara just like the other two. All three of the goblin leaders are dead.”
With Halsin back at the grove sorting things out with Kagha and the other druids, he would be none the wiser to Minthara not actually being dead. And their party would still get the necessary information on the illithid tadpoles and their origin, and hopefully their eventual removal.
After Minthara was tied up, the four of them made their way towards the exit. Vyssira spared one final look back at the unconscious drow woman and pressed her lips together into a thin line.
She hoped she had made the right choice.
Notes:
WHOOOOO that chapter was WAY longer than I originally intended, but I hope you all liked it!! Like I said before, finding that balance of actual in-game interactions and my own canon-divergent events is a little difficult. But we’re getting there!! Halfway through writing the fight scene with Minthara I realized that Minthara doesn’t actually have a sword when you first meet her in act 1, she has a mace. Oopsies lmao. But I was already in too deep and was too lazy to change it, so Minthara has a sword now bc I said so.
Speaking of fight scenes, I’m very much not the best at writing them, which is why I try and skip them when I can. I wrote this one because it felt way too important to just gloss over, since this is an important moment that WILL come up later in the fic.
Some of my phrases and wording may seem a bit repetitive and for that I apologize, like I’ve mentioned in previous notes I’m very much just a hobby writer. I’m good enough to be read and enjoyed, but sucky enough to still be considered amateur.
Anyways, once again I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Your comments are definitely fueling me and pushing me to keep writing more, so keep them coming! As always, criticism is always welcome so long as it is helpful and constructive.
Chapter 4
Summary:
Our heroes return to the grove and prepare for a night of revelry!
Notes:
Wowza, I’m so sorry this took so long! Like I mentioned in the notes of my last chapter, I recently got a full time job, and I significantly underestimated how much this particular job would exhaust me. Writing is just one of my many hobbies, and I’ve barely had time for almost any of them. I’m not super happy with a lot of this chapter, specifically in the second half, but I can’t just spend forever revising it or else it will never get posted and I don’t want to keep you guys waiting forever. Thank you to everyone who’s been reading, and double thanks to those who took their time to comment! Now please enjoy my bullshit :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
‘You’re welcome.’
-A
Well, that explained things. Leave it to Astarion to poison the alcohol. Vyssira made a mental note to never accept a drink from him. After that, all they had to do was find the waypoint sigil circle and get back to the grove. Probably the easiest part of their adventure so far. When they got back to the grove, they were met with quite the sight. The tieflings were joyous as they prepared to go on the road, their wagons and carts full of supplies and provisions. It seemed news of the goblin’s defeat and Halsin’s return had travelled fast. Zevlor gave them a small pouch of gold coins as a thanks for their service. Vyssira hadn’t expected a reward, but Zevlor didn’t need to know that. She happily accepted it. And then he told her that the tieflings had planned a celebration that night in their honor, and that it would be held at their camp.
Vyssira was shocked, to say the least. Nobody had ever thrown a celebration for her like that. She couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in her chest. It seemed that despite the many mishaps of their journey so far, it had been worth it.
Next was to find Halsin. Again. Vyssira would love it if they didn’t always have to be the ones to find and talk to people. Why couldn’t they find them for once?
Halsin was down by where the Idol of Sylvanus was, talking to Kagha. ‘Talking’ was a bit of an understatement, reprimanding heavily was more like it. And yet, Vyssira was still not satisfied with the sight. She had watch the woman be more than happy to allow the death of a young girl for the act of foolishness. She had watched as she was ready to send all of the tieflings to their deaths just so that the grove would be safe. A simple reprimand wasn’t enough.
“You let her off too easy. She almost killed a child, you know.” Vyssira couldn’t help but voice her opinion. She only realized after she did so that keeping it to herself may have been the better choice of actions to take. Halsin’s head whipped towards her, clearly still angry. And her words only seemed to irk him further.
“I suppose you would prefer I have hew skewered and hung out front as an example?” Halsin asked hautily. “The leadership of this grove and how I punish my underlings are no concern of yours.”
For maybe the hundreth time that day, Vyssira found herself struggling to kep her anger under control at his remark. She had known this druid for less than a day, and yet every time he spoke to her it was with disrespect. She wanted nothing more than to lash out, to yell and tear into him for hours. She wanted to take her frustrations out on him. But that wouldn’t do her or companions any favors. So instead, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. When she opened her eyes again, she gritted her teeth together as she spoke.
“It is done, the leaders are dead. Your grove will no longer be under threat of the goblins. Now you need to follow through on your end of the bargain.”
Halsin seemed pleased with her response, nodding as she relayed the news to him.
“Very well then, we shall talk more tonight at your camp. I believe the tieflings have planned a celebration in your honor. I have some things I still need to sort out and take care of before then, so be on your way. Oh, and don’t forget to speak to Rath. I believe he has something for you.” He practically shoed them away as he turned his back and left, presumably to ‘sort things out’ as he had said.
Vyssira sighed. Of course he would hold off on vital information until later. She kicked at the ground in frustration.
“Easy there, soldier. Let’s go find that Rath guy and see about that reward he promised us.” Karlach did her best to soothe. Vyssira just nodded her head.
Rath had been down where they found him before, when they first met Kagha and Arabella. The reward in question had been a stone tablet that gave them access to a hidden cave below the grove, it held some pretty valuable items. There were helpful potions and antidotes, a couple spell scrolls, some old books that Gale would for sure find interesting, and a glaive that glinted beautifully but granted a sense of sadness and slight unease when she held it. She gave it to Shadowheart, who gratefully accepted it and replaced the mace she had been using before.
Next was to go back to camp and tell the others of the good news, and prepare for the celebration. Though if how fast word travelled back to the grove was any indication, then there was no doubt they already knew.
Although the rest of their party already knew, they were still pleased to hear the good news directly from Vyssira. The lot of them were currently setting up their camp for guests. Making sure there was ample seating, food, and candles. They didn’t have much, but some of the tieflings had happily donated some of their food to Gale for him to use as ingredients. The tieflings who could not provide food would supply the celebration with wine, with Alfira agreeing to bring her lute and play music for everyone.
“Did you see the gift I left you, darling?” Astarion asked, a knowing smirk on his face. Vyssira rolled her eyes. She was clearing away any unnecessary camp clutter into their comm
“Oh, you mean the pile of dead goblins outside the sanctum? No, I must have missed that.” She replied sarcastically. “Where did you even get the poison? I don’t remember giving you any.” They had encountered plenty of poisons and toxins stashed within barrels and crates, and they still had the wyvern toxin that Nettie had given them.
“That lovely Zhentarim trader inside the goblin camp. She graciously gave me a bottle in exchange for a pretty necklace that I… found.” Vyssira didn’t want to know where he “found” that necklace, but she was certain that some poor individual (or corpse) was now missing their jewelry.
“So, you four found the druid then. How did it go? What did we miss?” Wyll changed the subject.
“Lots of goblin smashing, that’s for sure. Pretty sure we killed basically the whole camp, especially with Astarion’s little gift outside.” Karlach replied with a wide smile.
“And that Halsin fellow? What did he have to say about our affliction?” Gale asked, idly chopped vegetables to be had with their dinner. They would need a lot of it if the tieflings from the grove were to be reveling with them tonight. Although Vyssira still didn’t know what he was making, she didn’t bother to ask. Nothing he had made them so far had been even close to questionable, it had all been very delicious and hearty. Which was needed considering the adventures they always seemed to find themselves stumbling into. They needed good food to keep them going, physically and mentally. With the exception of Astarion, who would never consume anything offered to him unless it was ruby red liquid (wine or blood).
Vyssira did her best to resist the look of disdain that threatened to cross her features at the mention of the druid. She didn’t want to talk about him. She didn’t want to think about his blatant mistreatment of her. And honestly, she didn’t know why she felt so affected by him. His actions and his words were fairly commonplace throughout her entire life. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t expected it from a druid of all people, especially not one who had been held in such high regard by the people around him. Thankfully, Shadowheart took it upon herself to answer Gale’s question.
“He said that he couldn’t remove the tadpoles, that they’ve been altered somehow. But he also has information on where the tadpoles are coming from, and promised he would share with us if we killed the leaders of the camp. So we did.”
“And? What was the information?” Astarion asked.
“He hasn’t shared it yet, he told us to wait because he had some things to take care of. I suspect he’ll tell us at the party tonight.” Shadowheart sighed after her response.
“What? All that and he won’t even tell us the information he owes?” Astarion huffed, placing his hand on his hip. He stumbled backwards when Lae’zel came marching over and shoved a pile of logs into his arms.
“Quit your complaining, make yourself useful. Start the fire.” The gith demanded before walking back to her tent. Vyssira snickered at the offended look that fell across Astarion’s face as he glared at their companion. He carried the logs to where their previous fires had been started and dumped them on the ground, angrily yelling out the incantation for a fire bolt.
“You’ve been oddly quiet, Vyssira. What’s the matter?” Wyll asked. Vyssira looked up towards him. Had she really been that quiet?
“Hm? Oh, uh. Nothing much, don’t worry about it.”
“You’re a shit liar, darling.” Astarion smirked slyly at her, and she rolled her eyes.
“Did something else happen?” Wyll didn’t let up.
“I’ll say! That druid was-” Karlach began, but was cut off by Vyssira holding a hand up towards the tiefling’s face, the other hand pinching the bridge of her nose as she released a deep sigh.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. Can we move on please?” What else was she supposed to say? That Halsin’s overt negative opinions and jabs against her had been eating away at her all day? That his ignorance of her character and who she was had caused her to nearly get into a shouting match with their party’s only lead on how to cure themselves of their affliction?
“Ah, so something did happen then!” Astarion seemed all too pleased with the confirmation for Vyssira’s liking. “Come on Darling, you can’t just leave us like this. What was Karlach about to say?”
For what seemed to be the hundredth time in a single day, Vyssira could feel her anger rising up. Only this time, she didn’t know if she would be able to shove it back down for the good of those around her. Not if Astarion kept pressing the way he did.
“Astarion, I think we should leave her be. She said she didn’t want to discuss it.” Gale tried to tear the vampire away from the subject, but he didn’t budge.
“Oh honestly. What was so bad that our dear sorcerer doesn’t want to share? I mean, we’ve all shared a big secret or two with everyone. And yet she won’t even recount to us the events of her day?”
“Drop it, Astarion. You’re not owed anything.” Now Shadowheart had come to her defence.
“I just want to know what has her all wound up! Is that such a big deal?”
Finally, Vyssira erupted. Throughout the day she had built up her anger, brick by brick until a tower had formed within her. She did everything she could to steady the tower and keep it from crumbling down. But she just couldn’t do it anymore. Without much time to react, her tower of anger came toppling down, and Astarion was directly in the path of the falling rubble.
“That’s it!! I’ve had just about enough of you and your endless pestering! If I wanted you to know about what happened today, I would have told you already. Today has been positively miserable, and here you come to make it worse by demanding I tell you everything I’d rather not think about at the moment!!” Vyssira had marched directly up to Astarion and shoved her index finger into his chest.
“I don’t have to tell you jack-shit, especially not when you yourself are entirely made of secrets!! Either shut up, or fuck off and go suck some woodland creature’s blood.” Vyssira shoved him backwards, and then stomped off towards the river, away from the rest of the party. She desperately needed to cool her head before she lashed out at someone who didn’t deserve it.
Everyone turned towards Astarion, who only grit his teeth before he retreated to his tent.
Vyssira had quickly stripped her clothes off, and made her way into the water. She let the cold water cover her completely, and she breathed deeply as her entire body was enveloped by goosebumps. But it wasn’t enough. She still felt so frustrated, and she needed to let it out. So She dunked her head under the water, and screamed as loud as she possibly could. Air bubbles rapidly made their way out of her mouth and around her face, going straight to the surface where they popped and created little ripples in their wake. When she emerged, she swept her hair backwards and out of her face, doing her best to wipe the excess water out of her eyes. She breathed in deeply, held it for a beat, then breathed out. Then she repeated it.
She did it over and over again until finally, she felt calm enough to bathe properly. She began scrubbing away at the lingering remnants of the day. Blood, dirt, sweat, and other grime she now knew as a regular, every day occurrence in her current situation. That didn’t mean she had to like it, though. Especially the blood. She didn’t particularly enjoy spilling blood, much less being covered in it. Not like other drow did. But she knew it was necessary, and so she did it anyway.
Now that she had some time to cool off both figuratively and literally, she knew she would have to return to the others eventually. After all, there was still a celebration to be had. And Vyssira was actually quite looking forward to it. But she still had some time until then, and some alone-time would do her good. And it didn’t seem like the others would be coming to her any time soon, presumably giving her the space she needed. So long as that was the case, she didn’t see any reason why she should return so soon. So instead, Vyssira enjoyed the little time she had to herself. Just her, and the peaceful cold water around her.
When she had eventually returned to camp, she was greeted with cautious smiles and the heavenly smell of a hearty meal. She quickly assured them that she was ok, and that she had just needed some time to sort herself out. Astarion came out of his tent and threw a half-hearted apology at her, and Vyssira accepted knowing it was probably the best she was going to get from him. After that, she continued to help prepare their camp for guests. She had found some wildflowers and plucked them, placing them inside a cracked vase she had picked up over by the river. She set the vase on a stump close to the middle of the camp. It wasn’t much in terms of decor, but it was better than nothing she supposed.
And soon, their guests started to come in. One-by-one, two-by-two, three-by-three. Until eventually their camp was filled with the mirth and laughter of many tieflings, a few druids, and most of her companions. And as promised, the tieflings had brought alcohol. Plenty of alcohol. Wine, maed, rum, and even a few bottles of firewhisky were all up for grabs. The food Gale had made was a hit, with some tieflings even coming up to grab seconds. And of course, Alfira provided the music. She strummed happily on her lute, as everyone around her danced to the melody with wide smiles on their faces. Overall, the atmosphere was one of pure joy. And Vyssira quite appreciated it. However, there was still one thing that seemed to bother her. And that thing just so happened to be a druid who seemed far too large to be an elf, and yet still was one. He had promised her information, and she intended to get it.
She made her way up to Halsin, who stood with a content smile on his face as he tapped his foot to the song Alfira played. It was almost a complete 180 to every expression she had seen on him before, especially when he looked at her. She prepared herself to receive it once again. That hardened glare, and the sneered words. She cleared her throat to get his attention. He looked down and yup, there it was. Exactly like she had expected. His face turned to one of mild surprise, and then sour when he saw who it was who was calling for his attention.
“Yes?” He spoke plainly.
“You said that you would tell us what you know about the tadpoles at the party. Well, the party is in full swing. And you still have yet to share.” Vyssira crossed her arms over her chest as she stared up at him expectantly.
Halsin rolled his eyes.
“Come now, be patient. Surely you can’t take some time to enjoy the festivities? I know that not all drow are averse to merriment.” Was his reply. Vyssira scoffed.
“That’s not the point! This is important information you have, and it is paramount that you share it with me!”
The druid only shook his head.
“I promise I will tell you in the morning. For now, leave me be. I wish to actually enjoy the party.” And with that, Halsin turned away from her and began to speak to one of the nearby tiefling soldiers.
Vyssira growled, and stomped away angrily. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew that it needed to be wherever the druid wasn’t. Eventually, she found herself in the vicinity of Karlach who was sitting cross-legged in front of her tent. A bottle of wine sat on the other side of her, a third of the way empty. Grumpily, Vyssira plopped herself down next to the barbarian with a deep, frustrated sigh.
“Everything all right there?” Karlach asked with a raised eyebrow. Vyssira shook her head in response.
“The stupid druid is withholding information. Again! The information we all need in order to get cured! He said he would share it with me tomorrow, and to enjoy the festivities.” Karlach only chuckled, and took a sip of her wine.
“Maybe he has a point. It’s a great night, you know. The information he has isn’t going anywhere. There’s plenty to be happy about, so what’s the harm in enjoying yourself? You definitely deserve it.” Karlach tried to reason. Vyssira shook her head, and pulled her knees up close to herself before burying her face in them. Karlack frowned.
“Are you doing alright? I know I already asked back at the goblin camp, but it seems like you’ve only gotten more upset since then. That Halsin guy is getting to you, everyone can tell.” Karlach asked. It was quiet between them for a moment before Vyssira answered.
“I just… all my life, I’ve dealt with people’s predispositions about drow. I’ve dealt with people's scathing looks and the way they cautiously avoid me. I thought I was used to it. And for some reason I… I just thought that Halsin would be different, that this druid who seemingly loves all nature has to offer wouldn’t be like so many others I’ve been around. It’s stupid, I know. And yet I’m so upset!” Vyssira slammed a fist into the dirt beside her. Karlach hummed and took another sip of wine, before offering the bottle to Vyssira who graciously accepted it. She took a large gulp and licked the remnants of the liquid from her lips.
“I feel you there, mate. Like I said back at the goblin camp. Tiefling and Drow, we got it rough out here. If anyone in this weird collection of misfits we got here knows how you feel, it’s me. People see my horns and tail and immediately think I serve devils. Which I technically do, but not by choice ya know?”
Vyssira nodded.
“Same thing for me. People see my white hair and purple complexion and think I’ll drag them down to Menzoberranzan to be tortured if they so much as breathe near me. As if that isn’t the last place I would rather return to.”
Karlach chuckled. “Man, look at us. Two horribly misunderstood peas in a pod. People hate us, and we both have a place we would rather die before returning to.”
“I’ll toast to that.” Vyssira smirked.
Karlach laughed, loud and contagious. She picked up the bottle of wine and raised it in the air.
“This ones to you and me, for putting up with more bullshit than necessary from other pricks.” Karlach took a swig of the near empty wine bottle, before passing it to Vyssira who finished it off with one quick gulp. She once again swiped her tongue over her lips to catch any extra left there. She tossed the empty bottle to the side and let out a deep sigh. There was a comfortable silence between them as they sat and looked outwards at the party. People were still dancing and drinking and laughing, conversing happily with each other.
“Do you think things will ever get better for us?” Vyssira asked at last, breaking the silence. Karlach hummed thoughtfully.
“Dunno, soldier. They might, but it doesn’t feel very likely. Best we can do is find the people who can look past our appearances and our histories.” Came the Tieflings reply with a shrug.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Vyssira sighed defeatedly.
“Thanks for being there for me, Karlach, I’m glad to have someone here who understands. I would give you a hug, but I’d rather not have my flesh seared off tonight.”
Karlach looked at her with watery eyes and a big sappy grin.
“Aw, of course soldier! Any time. And I mean it. What else are tadpole friends for?” She replied enthusiastically. “Now, what do you say about us joining the dancefloor before people get too tired?”
Vyssira looked unsure. She can’t remember the last time she had danced. Scratch that, she wasn’t sure when she had ever danced, period. Her skeptical look only seemed to inspire Karlach further. The tiefling pushed herself up from the dirt with a small grunt, and dusted the dirt off of her pant legs.
“Come on, up you go! It will be fun!” And if it weren’t for those gods damned puppy dog eyes, Vyssira never would have said yes. But Karlach looked so excited, how could she turn her down? With a roll of her eyes, Vyssira stood up alongside Karlach, who pumped the air with her fist excitedly.
As the pair made their way over to where some other tieflings were dancing, Vyssira tried her best to mirror the movements of those around her. Karlach was almost flailing, her limbs moving in every direction. Her tail nearly took out Vyssira multiple times. At first, she felt awkward. She didn’t quite feel comfortable being as wild as Karlach, and she was struggling to mirror exactly what the other people were doing. Until finally she realized, they weren’t following any particular pattern. They simply moved however they felt was fitting. And so Vyssira, with as much dancing experience as the log benches around their camp, decided to do the same. She let the music dictate her movements. When the songs picked up in tempo, so did she. When the songs became slower and more soft, so did her movements. And Vyssira had never felt more free.
There was no expectation to be perfect. There were no thoughts of dickish druids or snarky companions, or cruel goblins. There were no thoughts of slimy tadpoles or breaking out in tentacles. There was only her, the music, and the joy of the people around her. It was bliss, true bliss. And when she finally stopped, sweat dripping from her forehead and breath heaving, she couldn’t stop the massive smile that made its way across her face. She looked to Karlach who gave her a big thumbs up. As the next song began, Vyssira got back into the rhythm and continued to dance around until she felt her body might go numb. And all the while, she failed to notice the pair of hazel eyes which had been cautiously trained on her from the edge of camp.
Notes:
Once again, I'm so sorry this took me so long to post! I can't promise when the next update will be seeing as like I said before, I don't really have a lot of time on my hands anymore and I have multiple hobbies I want to pour myself into when I'm not at work. But this fic is absolutely not abandoned! Especially not when I haven't even gotten to write the scene that inspired me to write this fic at all. Happy Pride Month to all you little gay people out there, and thank you so much for reading!
As always, helpful critique/criticism is always welcome as long as you're polite about it :)
RenoThePyro on Chapter 1 Sat 19 Apr 2025 07:51PM UTC
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emmijuu_unhinged on Chapter 1 Sun 20 Apr 2025 07:06PM UTC
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UrDadtextMe on Chapter 1 Tue 29 Apr 2025 12:23AM UTC
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emmijuu_unhinged on Chapter 1 Tue 29 Apr 2025 05:35PM UTC
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UrDadtextMe on Chapter 1 Tue 29 Apr 2025 09:41PM UTC
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UrDadtextMe on Chapter 2 Tue 29 Apr 2025 09:40PM UTC
Last Edited Tue 29 Apr 2025 09:41PM UTC
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emmijuu_unhinged on Chapter 2 Tue 29 Apr 2025 10:29PM UTC
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myreign on Chapter 2 Mon 05 May 2025 12:10AM UTC
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emmijuu_unhinged on Chapter 2 Tue 06 May 2025 09:23AM UTC
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Chocoborider92 on Chapter 3 Wed 07 May 2025 01:15PM UTC
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UrDadtextMe on Chapter 3 Sun 11 May 2025 12:14AM UTC
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Dreamsand on Chapter 4 Wed 02 Jul 2025 07:36PM UTC
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emmijuu_unhinged on Chapter 4 Fri 04 Jul 2025 04:03PM UTC
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myreign on Chapter 4 Thu 03 Jul 2025 01:24AM UTC
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Holfear on Chapter 4 Tue 08 Jul 2025 11:18PM UTC
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