6.1 - Conflict (Patreon)

6.1 - Conflict

Taylor

The next morning, I could barely move.

Every single muscle in my body was a symphony of agony.

It looks like all my stunts were finally catching up to me.

“I can ease the pain.” Shadowheart offered as I stayed laying down on my cot.

But… stubbornly I shook my head.

“No…” I winced. “The natural healing process works better to build up muscle and conditioning.” The memories said so.

But still… how to move.

Maybe make the phase spiders make a silk stretcher and drag it behind them like a sled. That could work.

Before I could get started on my very clever work around however, it was not meant to be. 

“That might be all well and good but we do not have time to sit around waiting for you to be able to move.” Durge commented from where he stood beside the half elf. “Get her up. We might be facing combat today and I’d rather not have her as an invalid.”

I tried to groan out a word. I’m not really sure if it was a protest or a surrender to the offered relief, so what came out sounded more like an incoherent mess of gibberish. 

“There there. You’ll live.” Shadowheart declared with a teasing smirk as she knelt down, hands already beginning to glow green.

The plan, in a very general sense was simple.

I would ‘scout ahead’ with my bugs, once we discovered the Goblin’s perimeter around the temple, Sophia and Astarion would sneak forward to get an actual visual and report back whatever they saw beyond my range.

Then, between their eyes and my bugs, we’d find a way to either sneak inside, or, if that wasn’t possible, force our way in. 

—

Conveniently, we had a map and there was a very nice ‘road’ if a beaten path of mud and foot steps could be called such, that led directly to the temple. 

Somewhat inconveniently, we couldn’t exactly follow said road. 

Not exactly conductive to ‘sneaking around’ if you just walked up the path that most guards would be looking at. 

So we avoided the road, I kept it at the very edge of my extended senses, sort of like a loose guard rail to direct us as we cut our way through the underbrush and wilderness.

The process was slow, and tedious, Barcus was helping Madison to direct Sir Loin at the rear of the group… or more accurately he was directing the Ox while Madison was trying to learn her next spell.

Emma was trying too, a Cantrip at least, not a spell. Sparks of fire danced along her fingers as she poked and prodded Gale for direction. I would complain, about her potentially starting a fire and giving away our position but… we had Karlach. A bigger fire hazard didn’t really exist. So I kept quiet.

As we approached the edge of the western river though, even without my insects I could tell we were close.

We could hear the horde before even my bugs saw them. 

—

Sophia

The river was wide, nothing like the Chionthar that looked impossibly wide, but wide enough that just crossing the damn thing would be damn near impossible if it wasn’t for her power giving a leg up.

The river sat on the base of a ravine, the steep incline of the hills on both sides of it making her feel boxed in.

But, between that and the thick vegetation, it made for good cover.

And by the sounds of things they needed it.

“How many do you think there are?” Astarion asked, looking up towards the ruins of the temple who’s silhouette they could just see cresting the high ground across the river. 

“There must be hundreds.” Lae’zel answered, coiling the long length of silk rope they had on hand, courtesy of freaking Hebert having about thirty of those spiders spin silk through the night.

With the material free of snags Lae’zel nodded to herself and handed one end to Sophia, who took it without complaint.

“Tie it high along the other side, and tie it tight.”

“I know my job.” She told Durge with an annoyed huff. Shifting into her breaker state she leapt once, twice and a third time to clear the river, her gaseous form just barely touching the freezing cold waters before making it to the other side.

She got to the heights of a tree, tying the rope around a sturdy branch and trunk with a damn good knot that wouldn’t slip. Say what you want about the Protectorate and the Wards, but their training was thorough. 

Once she was done she lifted a thumbs up high into the air, and watched as the others tied their end and Astarion started crossing over.

She half expected the twink to fall part way across but he had more grip strength and endurance than she gave him credit for.

He still complained when he reached her though.

“Bloody hell.” He cursed, whipping his fingers through the air. “How do people do this adventuring all day? Urgh.”

She shrugged, ignoring the question as she looked up towards the temple and the commotion. “Ideas?”

“Simple choices are oft the best ones my dear. Let’s get high on a tree and see what our eyes and ears tell us.”

“Making it up as we go it is.” She said somewhat sardonically.

Even so, they climbed the hill, staying low as they went. 

Luckily, they didn’t have to get too close. 

The Goblins were loud. 

“Dem humies sure know how to make a beer!.”

“Dey squealed more than the pigs they did!”

“With the absolute behind us, we can’t lose lads! Beat the flaming fist and captured the Duke!”

That last one made her look towards Astarion, to see if he knew anything, but the elf quietly shook his head, indicating he was as lost as she was. 

“I’ll get in closer, see if we can’t hear what they’re going on about” He whispered before pointing up, indicating that she should get atop the tree. “While I do that you see what you can see.”

She nodded, glancing towards the branches above. It was fairly tall, and thick. Good vantage to get a decent look if she wasn’t spotted on the way up. 

Nothing ventured nothing gained, she shifted into her breaker state and leapt upwards once again.

Getting to the top, she looked around and felt her eyes widen ever so slightly. 

She and Astarion had already seen roughly six hundred or so Goblins cross the river towards the Grove.

This place was supposed to be ‘empty’ because of that, comparatively speaking at least.

It wasn’t.

It looked like there were just as many Goblins here as the group heading towards the Grove.

More than Goblins too, Ogres, and dark skinned Elves, Drow if she remembered right. 

It looked like they were celebrating. She saw some Goblins dressed up in fancy human clothes, dresses, jewelry and such, things they must’ve stolen.

Towards the temple itself she saw several people, they must’ve been prisoners by how they were bound, and one guy in blue on a stage. It looked like… a comedy show?

She couldn’t get close enough to hear. 

But she did see something that could help. 

Along the east side of the temple, near the river there was a very large, very distinct hole in that wall.

That is how they get in. 

—

By the time she and Astarion returned, she was… she didn’t really know what the word was. Proud maybe? Accomplished? Something like that.

For all that this place didn’t have shit like electricity, hot showers or running water, she could say that it wasn’t a waste of fucking time like the Wards. Whenever she was sent out it was to do an actual job that needed doing, rather than posing for a photo-shoot.

“It seems the Goblins on this side of the rivers have been quite adventurous.” Astarion regaled. “They’ve raided Waukeen’s rest. Took on the Flaming Fist head on, and captured their charge, a Duke of some kind.”

“They’ve actually captured a Duke of Baldur’s Gate from the Flaming Fist!?” Boy Scout looked… she wasn’t sure. Equal parts insulted and worried.

Astarion shrugged. “I never said it was a Duke from Baldur’s gate, could be from elsewhere. But if the Flaming Fist were guarding them it's possible.” Then the elf looked pensive. “Regardless, they were celebrating. Drinks and Goblin…” He rolled his eyes. “Music I suppose they’d call it. They’ll all likely be very very drunk very very shortly. Tonight might be the best opportunity to do what we intend to do.”

“Fair point.” Shadowheart nodded. “And I agree.”

“Waukeen’s rest is gone then.” Durge sighed, eyes looking over the map. That means the northern road might be just as infested with Goblins as the rest of these lands. 

“Aren’t you worried about the Duke thing?” Kalrach asked. The lizard just shook his head.

“Until I have reason to be concerned whoever they’ve captured is not my concern, the Goblin leaders with the tadpoles are.” He looked to Sophia then. “You say you saw a way inside?”

She nodded. “Yup. Eastern side-” She leaned over the map that had an artist depiction of the temple. It was rather small but- 

She pointed. “Right around there. Doesn’t look heavily guarded either.”

The Lizard nodded “Did either of you by chance catch word of their leaders?”

“Or the druid Halsin?” Shadowheart added. And yeah- there was that whole druid healer guy. Jeeze it felt like freakin years since they first got here and heard about him. 

Astarion shook his head. “No.” He said simply. “I did hear about them, however; The leaders I mean, fairly certain that druid is dead. Tragic. Anyway. Apparently there are three leaders of note one has crossed the River already, I assume they’re the one’s searching for the Grove, two however are here, One named Dror - err… Rags something or other. I swear Goblin names.” He almost very literally gagged. “The other is a priestess, one of their shamans.”

Durge nodded. “Two targets. Good enough.” 

Then he turned to Hebert. “We’ll go in at nightfall, identify them, kill them, extract the tadpoles and get out before the Goblins are done with their… revelry.”

“You really think it’ll go that smoothly?” Shadowheart snickered. “When have we been so lucky?”

The Lizard shrugged. “I’m an eternal optimist.” 

He couldn’t have said that any drier if his throat was made out of sandpaper. 

(X)(X)(X)

Shorter than normal today, but next chapter we deal with the Goblin camp. We have a solid plan and nothing could possibly go wrong :3