Consistency is key!
If I had money, that is...enjoy the chapter!
...
Boots crunched softly over broken stone as the others approached.
Lae'zel was the first to reach him. She stepped over a fallen goblin without looking down, wiping the edge of her blade against the creature's tattered clothing before sheathing it. Her yellow eyes moved from the shattered throne to the hobgoblin beneath Fin.
"You have broken their leader," she said simply.
Astarion arrived a moment later, idly spinning his dagger between his fingers as he surveyed the wrecked throne room.
"Broken is a generous description," he said. "I would personally go with obliterated."
He stepped around a corpse and tilted his head slightly.
"Though I must say, darling, you do have a flair for dramatic conclusions."
Wyll approached from the other side of the chamber, giving the room one final scan before lowering his sword.
"It looks like that's the last of them," he said. "No reinforcements from the looks of it."
Durge leaned against one of the cracked stone pillars, checking her nails lazily.
"Pity," she muttered.
Shadowheart joined them last, stepping carefully between the scattered bodies. Her eyes moved briefly over Fin, checking for injuries before settling on Ragzlin beneath him.
"So," she said, folding her arms slightly. "That's all the leaders dealt with." Lae'zel tilted her head slightly.
Wyll nodded slowly.
"And Minthara?"
Durge gave a quiet, amused breath through her nose.
"Still at camp," she said. "Still trying to decide whether the voice in her head is lying to her."
Astarion shrugged lightly.
"Understandable," he said. "If the Absolute suddenly stopped whispering sweet nothings into my skull, I might also need a moment to process."
Wyll rested his hands on his hips.
"So that leaves the rest of the camp," he said. "Without their leaders, they'll either scatter…"
Durge smiled faintly.
"Or panic."
Lae'zel looked toward the doors leading deeper into the temple.
"They are weak without command," she said. "Now would be the moment to break them."
Shadowheart glanced back toward Fin.
"So," she said, "what's the plan?"
There was a brief pause.
Astarion tilted his head slightly.
Then he frowned.
"...You know," he said slowly, pointing toward the floor.
Everyone followed his gaze.
Fin was still sitting on Ragzlin.
The hobgoblin warlord lay beneath him, one arm missing, blood pooling across the stone while his chest rose and fell in ragged, wet breaths.
Astarion blinked.
"He's still alive."
Fin didn't move.
"I'm tired."
For a moment, Ragzlin stared upward, his yellow eyes burning with fury despite the blood spilling from his body.
"You—" the hobgoblin rasped, struggling to push himself up slightly. "You think you've won?"
His voice rose, raw with hatred.
"The Absolute will—"
Fin flicked his fingers.
The invisible slash passed quietly through Ragzlin's throat.
The hobgoblin's voice cut off instantly.
Blood spilled across the floor as his body twitched once… then went still.
Fin sighed softly.
"Okay."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees again.
"Now I'm done."
There was a brief silence.
Astarion slowly nodded.
"Well," he said. "That was… efficient."
Durge grinned. "I liked the part where he screamed."
Shadowheart shook her head slightly, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
Lae'zel simply looked down at the corpse once more.
"Now," she said, "the rest of the camp."
Fin exhaled slowly. "Yuppers ~"
He pushed himself to his feet at last.
"Let's finish this."
...
The doors of the throne room creaked open.
Fin stepped out first, rolling one shoulder as the cooler air of the temple corridor brushed against his skin. The battle behind them still clung to the air like smoke.
Boots followed behind him.
Lae'zel. Shadowheart. Wyll. Durge. Astarion.
None of them looked particularly bothered by the fact that they had just dismantled the entire leadership of the goblin camp.
They walked down the corridor and toward the temple courtyard.
For a moment, it was quiet.
Then a group of goblins rounded the corner.
Four of them.
One carried a spear that looked too large for him. Another had a dented helmet that kept sliding down over his eyes. The third was chewing on what might have been dried rat.
The fourth squinted at the party.
He pointed vaguely toward the throne room.
"Oi."
They stopped a few paces away.
"You lot hear that?"
The goblin scratched his chin.
"Sounded like fightin'."
Another goblin leaned slightly to peer past them toward the throne room doors.
"Boss yellin' too."
He squinted at Fin.
"You come from there?"
Fin blinked slowly.
"Yeah."
The goblins looked at each other.
"Well?"
One of them jerked his thumb back toward the throne room.
"What happened?"
There was a small pause, then Astarion smiled.
"Oh," he said pleasantly.
"We killed everyone."
The goblins stared.
The rat-chewing goblin stopped chewing.
"...What?"
Durge tilted her head slightly.
"Everyone."
She lifted one hand lazily, and cold gathered instantly in the air around her fingers.
A sharp spike of ice formed in her palm with a quiet cracking sound.
The goblins blinked.
Then the spear goblin squinted suspiciously.
"You jokin'?"
The ice spike launched.
It punched straight through his chest and buried itself in the stone wall behind him.
The goblin froze in place for a moment, then he slowly fell over.
The others screamed.
Everything after that happened very quickly.
Lae'zel's blade flashed once, and two goblins dropped before the sound had even finished leaving their throats.
Astarion appeared behind the third like a bad idea.
"Oh, don't run," he sighed.
His dagger slipped neatly under the goblin's jaw.
The body collapsed.
The last goblin turned and sprinted into the courtyard, screaming.
"GUT'S DEAD!"
"RAGZLIN'S DEAD!"
"TRUE SOULS BETRAY—"
Durge flicked her wrist, and a thin lance of ice shot forward and speared the goblin clean through the back.
He slid face-first across the dirt and stopped moving.
There was a brief silence.
Then the camp exploded.
Goblin voices shouted everywhere.
"What happened?"
"Who screamed?"
"Why is Gruk face down?"
A goblin peeked around a corner, and he saw the bodies.
Then he saw the party.
Then he saw Durge forming another spear of ice.
"...Oh."
The spear flew.
The goblin disappeared behind the wall with a wet crunch.
Across the courtyard, several goblins froze mid-conversation.
One slowly pointed.
"Uh."
Lae'zel walked toward them.
The goblins panicked instantly.
Astarion laughed, "Oh, this is wonderful."
He sprinted forward.
Lae'zel crashed into the nearest group like a thrown spear, her blade cutting down two goblins in a single swing before the rest could even draw weapons.
Astarion vaulted onto a table and kicked a goblin off it before stabbing another through the shoulder.
Durge walked calmly into the centre of the courtyard, a cold rolled outward from her like winter itself. Frost crept across the dirt beneath her boots.
A goblin charged her with a club, Durge raised one finger, and the air snapped as ice erupted beneath the goblin's feet. The creature slipped, fell backward, and Durge casually drove an ice shard straight through its skull while it was still on the ground.
Another goblin tried to flee.
Durge's hand opened. A burst of freezing wind slammed into the creature's back, flash-freezing it in place. She walked past and tapped it, and the frozen goblin shattered across the courtyard.
Across the camp, goblins screamed and ran in every direction.
Wyll cut down two that rushed him near the cooking fires.
Shadowheart smashed another in the face with her mace before calmly blasting a fleeing one with divine magic.
Meanwhile—
Fin had wandered toward the cooking pit, and he crouched near one of the roasting spits.
A half-charred chicken slowly turned above the fire.
Fin stared at it for a moment, then he pulled a piece off.
Behind him, Astarion tackled a goblin through a wooden crate.
Durge froze another one solid.
Lae'zel kicked a goblin into a wall hard enough to break it.
Fin took a bite of the chicken.
"...Not bad."
A goblin ran past him, screaming.
Fin stuck a foot out, and the goblin tripped, slammed into the floor, and slid several feet.
Shadowheart casually crushed its skull as she walked past.
Fin chewed thoughtfully.
Another goblin sprinted toward the gate.
Durge flicked her fingers. Ice spikes erupted from the ground beneath him and pinned the creature in place like a grotesque decoration.
Astarion appeared beside Fin. He brushed blood from his sleeve.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Fin shrugged slightly.
"Recovering."
He took another bite of chicken.
Behind them, Lae'zel decapitated another goblin.
Durge froze two more solid and shattered them with a flick of her wrist.
The camp was collapsing into absolute panic.
Goblins ran, screamed and died.
Fin leaned back slightly near the fire and watched the chaos unfold while finishing the rest of the chicken.
"Mmh...Good chicken."
He tore off the last strip of meat and chewed slowly while another goblin sprinted across the courtyard screaming before Durge froze the poor creature's legs solid and Lae'zel split it in half mid-fall.
Fin wiped his fingers on the edge of his shirt.
"Alright."
No one was really listening.
Astarion had just vaulted off a table to tackle another goblin trying to scramble up a ladder.
Durge was calmly forming another spear of ice while two goblins tried and failed to flee past her.
Shadowheart smashed one with her mace and kicked the body aside.
Wyll was holding the gate, cutting down anyone dumb enough to try running through it.
Fin stood and stretched slightly.
"I'll be back."
Shadowheart glanced over her shoulder.
"Where are you—"
Fin jerked a thumb vaguely toward the inner sanctum where they'd been earlier.
"Gonna go look for someone."
Durge froze a goblin solid behind her.
"Have fun."
Astarion kicked a screaming goblin off the table.
"Don't take too long."
Fin gave a lazy wave and stepped away from the cooking pit.
Then he disappeared back through the large double door.
Behind him, the slaughter continued.
...
By the time the sun had begun dipping low toward the horizon, the noise had finally died.
The last goblin had fallen minutes earlier beneath Lae'zel's blade, its body collapsing beside the ruined gate with a dull thud.
No one moved for a moment.
The courtyard was silent now.
Bodies littered the ground in every direction. Broken tables, overturned crates, shattered weapons. The cooking fires still crackled quietly, sending thin streams of smoke into the evening air.
The entire goblin camp had been wiped out.
Astarion wiped the last smear of blood from his dagger and flicked it aside.
"Well," he said, stretching slightly. "That was refreshing."
Durge exhaled slowly, frost fading from her fingertips as the last traces of her magic settled.
"I could've kept going."
Wyll looked around the ruined camp with a tightening expression.
"I think we've done quite enough."
Shadowheart brushed dirt from her armour and scanned the courtyard again.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"...Where's Fin?"
Astarion blinked.
"Hm."
Durge tilted her head.
"Oh."
Lae'zel glanced toward the temple.
"He departed earlier."
Wyll frowned.
"And he hasn't come back."
Another moment of silence passed.
Shadowheart sighed.
"Fantastic."
Astarion gestured toward the shattered doors of the sanctum.
"Shall we?"
The group stepped back into the ruined temple. The moment they crossed the threshold, the sight hit them.
Wyll stopped immediately.
"Oh gods…"
The interior of the sanctum was worse. Much worse.
The battle in Ragzlin's throne room had been brutal, but what lay deeper in the corridors went beyond that.
Bodies were everywhere.
Not just goblins.
Worgs. Cultists. Warlocks.
Some had clearly been cut down quickly.
Others…
Not so much.
Several goblins had been disarmed, literally. Limbs scattered across the floor. One had been charred completely, the ash still clinging faintly to the stone.
Wyll swallowed hard.
"What… happened here?"
Astarion stepped carefully around a particularly unfortunate goblin torso.
"Oh, I have a theory."
Durge was staring at the carnage with quiet fascination.
Her lips curved slowly.
"...He got bored."
Wyll shot her a look. "That's not reassuring."
They moved deeper into the sanctum.
The silence stretched for several seconds.
Then—
slap
Everyone froze.
Astarion blinked.
"...What was that?"
slap
The sound echoed faintly down the corridor.
Lae'zel immediately began moving toward it.
Wyll looked deeply concerned.
Durge looked curious.
They rounded the final corner and stopped. Fin sat casually on the edge of a broken supply crate. Across his lap was a goblin.
A female goblin.
She was kicking her legs angrily while Fin smacked the back of her armour like someone disciplining a particularly troublesome child.
slap
"Ow! Boss stop!"
Fin was laughing.
Not the chuckle the party was used to hearing from him, but a genuine laugh that echoed faintly down the stone corridor.
Across his lap kicked a familiar goblin.
Skrikka.
Her legs thrashed uselessly as Fin delivered another firm smack to her ass.
slap
"Ow! I said stop!"
"You tried to stab me."
"I said sorry!"
"You said sorry after trying to stab me."
slap
"Ow!"
Skrikka twisted around as best she could from her upside-down position across his lap.
"This is humiliatin'!"
Fin shrugged.
"You shouldn't have tried to stab me."
Behind them, the party stood frozen in the hallway.
Shadowheart stared.
Astarion blinked.
Durge tilted her head slowly.
Lae'zel's brow furrowed.
Wyll looked like his brain had simply stopped working.
slap
"Ow! Boss!"
Skrikka kicked again.
"I thought you was dead!"
Fin snorted.
"You tried to stab me immediately."
"You killed everyone!"
slap
"Ow!"
Shadowheart slowly rubbed her temples.
"...Fin."
Fin glanced up.
"Oh, hey."
He waved casually.
"You guys finished?"
Skrikka immediately pointed accusingly at the party.
"They helped!"
Fin nodded thoughtfully.
"Yeah."
slap
"Ow!"
"Still stabbed me."
Wyll finally found his voice.
"What… what exactly are we looking at?"
Fin gave Skrikka one final smack.
"There."
He set her down on the floor.
Skrikka stumbled forward and immediately turned around to glare up at him while rubbing her ass.
"You're a menace."
Fin stretched slightly.
"You stabbed me."
"You killed the entire camp!"
Fin shrugged.
"Yeah."
Skrikka pointed angrily down the corridor behind them.
"That was my...workplace!"
Durge snorted.
Lae'zel crossed her arms.
"You spared this creature."
Skrikka puffed up slightly. "Damn right he did."
Fin rubbed the back of his neck. "She makes decent conversation."
Skrikka pointed at him again. "He kidnapped me!"
Fin looked thoughtful.
"...Borrowed."
Astarion sighed.
"Of course you did."
Shadowheart stared at Fin for a long moment.
"...You left us to slaughter the entire camp so you could spank a goblin."
Fin considered that.
"When you say it like that, it sounds weird."
Skrikka folded her arms.
"It was weird."
Durge smiled faintly.
"No."
She looked at Skrikka with interest.
"I think it was perfect."
Wyll still looked deeply unsettled.
"I have… so many questions."
Fin brushed dust off his hands.
"Later."
He gestured toward Skrikka.
"This is Skrikka."
Skrikka gave a short wave.
"...Hi."
Outside, the last light of the sun faded over the ruins of the goblin camp.
Inside the sanctum stood the party, surrounded by the aftermath of complete annihilation.
And somehow…
Skrikka was the only goblin left alive.
...
The courtyard outside the ruined temple was quiet now.
The chaos from earlier had burned itself out, leaving behind a strange calm. The cooking fires still smouldered in a few places, casting dim orange light across the cracked stone and the scattered remains of the goblin camp.
The party had gathered near the largest fire pit.
Some sat on overturned crates. Others leaned against broken pillars. Weapons rested nearby, cleaned but within reach.
For the first time since the fighting started, no one was actively trying to kill anything.
Halsin stood a short distance away from the group, arms folded across his massive chest as he surveyed the destroyed camp.
The bear-druid had already seen the carnage inside the sanctum.
He had not commented on it.
Nearby, Skrikka sat on a crate that was slightly too tall for her legs, which kicked idly in the air while she gnawed on a piece of roasted meat she had stolen from the cooking pit.
Every so often, she glanced around at the party with visible curiosity.
Fin sat on the edge of a stone step, elbows resting on his knees.
He had just finished explaining.
"So she followed us," he said calmly. "Saw us capture Minthara. Saw the Absolute stuff. Put a few things together."
Skrikka raised a hand.
"I am very observant."
Astarion smirked.
"I'll say."
Wyll was not amused.
"This is a goblin."
Skrikka pointed a greasy finger at him.
"Correct."
Wyll frowned.
"One that helped attack the grove."
Skrikka opened her mouth.
Fin spoke first. "She didn't."
That stopped the conversation.
Wyll looked at him. "What?"
Fin shrugged slightly.
"She was never at the grove."
Skrikka nodded enthusiastically. "I was on chicken duty."
Astarion chuckled. "Ah."
Durge leaned forward slightly, watching Skrikka like someone observing a new species.
"Chicken duty."
Skrikka pointed proudly.
"Important job."
Halsin did not look impressed.
The archdruid's deep voice rumbled across the courtyard.
"Goblins do not change their nature so easily."
Skrikka slowly looked up at him.
Then looked at Fin.
"...He big."
Fin nodded. "Yeah."
Shadowheart had been leaning quietly against a broken pillar, arms crossed as she studied the goblin.
Her tone was neutral.
"You trust her?"
Fin shook his head.
"No."
Skrikka looked offended.
"But—"
He gestured toward her.
"She's useful."
Wyll frowned.
"Useful?"
Fin nodded toward the dark forest beyond the camp.
"We're heading to Moonrise Towers."
That got everyone's attention.
Skrikka nodded vigorously. "Bad place."
Fin pointed at her. "Exactly."
He leaned back slightly.
"Having a goblin around helps."
Wyll crossed his arms. "I fail to see how."
Fin gestured vaguely around the camp.
"Goblins talk."
Skrikka nodded again. "Very true."
Fin gave her a look, and she shut up, so he continued.
"Moonrise has goblins, cultists, all sorts of Absolute followers moving through there."
He pointed at Skrikka.
"Having someone who understands their nonsense makes sneaking in easier."
Durge tilted her head.
"I like that plan."
Astarion smiled slightly.
"Oh, I adore that plan."
Wyll sighed.
Halsin remained silent for several seconds.
Finally, the druid spoke.
"If she betrays us—"
Skrikka immediately raised both hands.
"I will not betray!"
She looked around the group nervously. "You kill whole camp."
Fin nodded.
"Fair point."
Shadowheart pushed off the pillar.
"Fine."
She glanced down at Skrikka.
"But if she tries anything—"
Skrikka pointed at Fin.
"He spanks."
Astarion snorted.
Durge laughed quietly.
Wyll rubbed his face.
Halsin looked deeply tired.
The tension slowly faded.
For a few minutes, the group simply rested.
Weapons were cleaned. Wounds were checked. Food from the abandoned goblin stores was passed around.
The sky continued darkening as the sun slipped below the horizon.
Fin eventually stood and stretched.
"Alright."
He looked toward the path leading away from the camp.
"Short rest is over."
Durge stood immediately.
Skrikka hopped off her crate.
Astarion rolled his shoulders.
Wyll grabbed his sword.
Halsin watched them all for a moment.
Fin looked toward the druid.
"You coming with us tonight?"
Halsin raised an eyebrow.
Fin gestured toward the road.
"We've got a camp nearby."
He shrugged. "Sleep there. Safer than here."
The druid hesitated.
His eyes drifted briefly across the destroyed goblin camp.
The ruined temple.
The dead.
Then he looked back at the group.
Finally, he nodded.
"For tonight."
Fin smiled slightly.
"Good."
Halsin added firmly,
"But in the morning, we return to the grove."
Fin nodded.
"Yeah."
He started walking toward the forest path.
"We were planning on that anyway."
Behind him, the party began to move.
A strange group.
Adventurers.
A vampire.
A githyanki warrior.
A dark cleric.
A dragonborn with violent urges.
An archdruid.
And now—
A goblin.
Skrikka jogged up beside Fin.
"So..."
She glanced up at him.
"You gonna spank me again?"
Fin sighed.
"Please stop saying that."
Behind them, Astarion laughed.
...
The path away from the ruined goblin camp wound down through broken stone and scrub, the last light of the sunset fading behind them as the group made their way toward the forest.
Their footsteps crunched over gravel and loose dirt.
No one spoke much at first.
The day had been long.
The violence had finally begun to settle in their bones.
Near the front of the group, Fin walked with his usual steady pace.
Skrikka trotted beside him.
Actually, very beside him.
The goblin had grabbed the edge of his white haori and was clutching it with both hands like a small child holding onto a parent in a crowded market.
Every few steps, she glanced back at the others.
Then she shuffled a little closer to Fin.
Durge noticed immediately.
"I think she imprinted on you."
Skrikka hissed over her shoulder.
"Shut up, ice-lady."
Durge smiled faintly.
Behind them, Astarion chuckled quietly.
Fin sighed, but didn't shake her off.
Shadowheart walked a few paces behind them.
Her eyes occasionally drifted toward Fin.
Something about the last few hours had shifted things.
Watching him fight Ragzlin.
Watching him dismantle the entire goblin camp.
Watching him casually spare a goblin and then drag it along with them like an inconvenient pet.
Her fingers brushed the small prism resting inside her pack.
The artifact hummed faintly.
Her gaze lingered on Fin's back.
Then she stepped forward.
"Fin."
He slowed slightly so she could walk beside him.
"What?"
She was quiet for a moment.
The path narrowed, forcing the two of them slightly ahead of the others.
Trees closed in around the trail.
The forest had grown darker now.
Shadowheart glanced briefly at the others behind them.
Then back at Fin.
"There's something I've been wanting to share with you, is now a good time?"
Fin tilted his head slightly.
"Sure, I'm all ears"
She hesitated. "It's difficult to put into words...I think it might be easier to just show you."
She fixed her hair behind her ear.
"Use the tadpole; the connection. Come into my mind."
Fin nodded, connecting with his tadpole. It was a sensation he still hadn't gotten used to yet. He reached out for Shadowheart, and she let him in.
"I don't remember how it started. Only how it ended. I was fleeing..."
The flashback scene began; it felt surreal to Fin, it was as though the memory was of his own. He could feel her fear of the wolves, the Pain and whatnot.
It was definitely a lot different to watching it play out on a screen.
Fin blinked once as the psychic connection faded.
Ah. There it was.
The scene.
He mentally logged the information without much outward reaction.
Shadowheart looked slightly uneasy now that the connection had ended.
Her voice was quieter than usual.
"I haven't shared that with many people."
Fin nodded slowly.
"Thanks for trusting me with it."
She watched him carefully.
"You don't seem… disturbed."
Fin shrugged lightly.
"I get it."
She waited, perhaps expecting more.
Fin added,
"If becoming a Dark Justiciar is what you want, I'll support you."
Shadowheart blinked in mild surprise.
"Even knowing what Shar asks of her followers?"
Fin gave a small shrug.
"Your faith. Your path."
He gestured forward along the trail.
"I'm not here to tell you how to live it."
Then he added casually,
"And if wolves show up again, I'll deal with them."
Shadowheart stared at him with a smirk.
"You'll protect me from wolves?"
Fin nodded.
"Yep."
Behind them, Skrikka suddenly spoke up. "I hate wolves too."
Durge answered immediately. "I could freeze one."
The group chuckled. Shadowheart looked forward again, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she looked at Fin and the group continued towards their camp.
...
By the time the forest began thinning, night had settled fully across the land.
The faint glow of firelight appeared through the trees ahead. Their camp.
But as they drew closer, something immediately felt… different.
Lanterns. Several of them.
They hung from low branches and makeshift poles, casting warm pools of golden light across the clearing. The ground had been swept clean of loose debris, bedrolls neatly arranged rather than scattered the way the party usually left them.
Someone had even dragged a few logs into a rough circle around the central fire.
It looked…
Lived in.
Fin slowed slightly as they entered the clearing.
Skrikka peeked around him, still clutching his haori.
"You're back!"
Alfira hurried toward them from the fire pit, relief bright across her face. The tiefling bard looked far less anxious than the last time they had seen her, though her eyes still flicked quickly over each of them as if confirming they were all intact.
"I was starting to think something had gone wrong," she said, clasping her hands together. "You've been gone all day."
Behind her, another figure emerged from the darker edge of the camp carrying an armful of firewood.
Karlach.
The tiefling warrior looked up the moment she saw them.
Her face split into a massive grin.
"HA! I knew it!"
She dumped the firewood beside the pit with a loud clatter and jogged over, her heavy boots thudding against the packed earth.
"You guys took forever," she said, looking them over quickly. "But hey, nobody's dead!"
Her eyes landed on Skrikka.
Karlach blinked.
"…Is that a goblin?"
Skrikka waved.
"Hi."
Karlach looked at Fin.
"Explain."
"Later." Fin yawned.
Karlach shrugged. "Fair."
Durge leaned slightly toward Astarion. "I like her."
Astarion nodded. "She's enthusiastic."
Fin scanned the camp briefly.
Everything looked… orderly. Cleaner than usual.
"Where's the drow?"
The question came out casually.
But the reaction was immediate.
Alfira hesitated.
Karlach scratched the back of her neck.
"Uh."
Then another voice spoke.
"I'm here."
Everyone turned. Minthara stepped into the lantern light.
She wasn't wearing her armour either, but instead had changed into the camp clothes from the game. In her hands, she carried a pot; steam drifted lazily from it.
She walked toward the fire with slow, controlled steps before setting the pot down carefully.
Her red eyes lifted toward the group.
"I prepared food."
The silence that followed was immediate and profound.
Minthara gestured toward the pot.
"A recipe from the Underdark."
She paused. "Or… an approximation."
Her expression remained calm.
"I worked with the ingredients available."
No one spoke. Wyll looked like he had forgotten how to blink.
Halsin's brow furrowed deeply.
Shadowheart stared openly.
Lae'zel watched the drow with careful suspicion.
Astarion raised one eyebrow.
Durge looked delighted.
Karlach leaned toward Fin slightly. "...Is she allowed to do that?"
Minthara calmly picked up a wooden spoon.
"I was told I should make myself useful."
She glanced briefly toward Fin.
"So I did."
Minthara continued stirring the pot as if this situation were completely normal.
Then—
Skrikka finally looked properly at her.
The goblin froze.
Her eyes widened. Her grip on Fin's haori tightened instantly.
"...Nightwarden."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Nightwarden Minthara."
The goblin immediately scrambled behind Fin's legs.
Actually hiding behind him.
Only her eyes peeked out from the side of his haori.
Minthara's gaze slowly shifted downward.
She studied the goblin for a moment.
"A goblin."
Skrikka ducked further behind Fin.
"Please don't kill me."
Durge snorted.
Astarion's smile widened.
Minthara looked back up at Fin.
"You have interesting companions."
Fin rubbed the back of his neck.
Minthara calmly placed the pot by the fire and began stirring it.
"I was informed I should make myself useful."
Her tone was flat.
"So I did."
Wyll leaned toward Fin.
"...Is she being controlled?"
Durge shook her head.
"No."
Astarion folded his arms.
"Oh, this is far more entertaining."
Karlach looked between Fin and Minthara.
"So… the scary drow war commander is just… cooking now?"
Minthara did not look up. "I assume your expedition was successful."
The entire group was still staring at her.
Behind Fin, Skrikka whispered nervously:
"...she used to execute people for breathing wrong."
Minthara stirred the pot once more, completely calm.
...
The fire crackled softly in the centre of the camp.
Around it sat one of the strangest dinners anyone present had probably experienced in their lives.
No one spoke.
Wood popped in the flames. The pot Minthara had prepared simmered quietly, releasing a surprisingly pleasant smell into the cool night air.
The group sat in a rough circle, and the tension was thick enough to chew.
Minthara sat on one side of the fire, posture perfectly straight, calmly ladling portions of her Underdark stew into wooden bowls.
Across from her sat Halsin.
The archdruid had not touched his bowl.
He watched the drow with the patient stillness of a bear deciding whether something was worth mauling.
Wyll sat beside him, clearly uncomfortable.
Astarion lounged casually against a log, looking far more entertained by the situation than he had any right to be.
Durge sat cross-legged beside him, watching everyone with quiet fascination.
Lae'zel ate without speaking, completely unconcerned by the tension.
Karlach sat near the fire, already halfway through her bowl.
And Fin sat beside her.
Behind him, partially hidden by his shoulders, Skrikka crouched like a goblin-shaped shadow.
She had accepted a bowl, but she kept glancing nervously at Minthara.
Every time the drow moved, Skrikka flinched.
Minthara passed the last bowl across the fire.
The silence stretched.
Halsin finally spoke, his voice was calm but very firm.
"You led an army against the grove."
Minthara did not look up from her food.
"Yes."
Halsin's jaw tightened.
"You would have slaughtered every druid and refugee there."
Minthara lifted the spoon slowly. "I would have done what the Absolute commanded."
Another silence followed.
Skrikka whispered behind Fin.
"...she used to feed goblins to spiders."
Minthara looked up.
Skrikka immediately ducked behind Fin's shoulder again.
"I said nothing."
Karlach looked between them.
"...okay, this is weird."
Wyll rubbed his temples. "We are sharing dinner with a former enemy commander."
Astarion lifted his bowl slightly.
"Yes."
He took a sip.
"It's delicious."
Minthara inclined her head slightly.
"Thank you."
Durge tilted her head.
"I like this arrangement."
Halsin did not.
"You cannot seriously intend to travel with her."
Minthara calmly continued eating.
Fin shrugged.
"She's useful."
Halsin stared at him.
"She intended to destroy the grove."
Fin nodded.
"Yeah, so? She failed anyway."
Karlach raised a hand slightly.
"To be fair, a lot of people in this group have tried to destroy things."
Durge smiled. "I certainly have."
Wyll sighed.
Lae'zel spoke without looking up from her bowl. "If she becomes a threat, we will kill her."
Minthara nodded. "A reasonable policy."
Skrikka whispered again. "...see?"
Fin leaned back slightly and finally spoke.
"Alright."
Everyone looked toward him.
"Tomorrow we go back to the grove."
Karlach looked up.
"Oh?"
Fin nodded.
"We tell the tieflings it's safe to move."
Wyll straightened slightly.
"That will mean a great deal to them."
Fin continued.
"While we're there, Karlach and I can find that infernal mechanic someone mentioned."
Karlach brightened immediately.
"Oh!"
"Right!"
She tapped her chest where the infernal engine burned faintly beneath her skin.
Fin nodded.
"If that works out and we've still got daylight, we can check the rest of the area."
Shadowheart tilted her head slightly. "Then Moonrise."
Fin nodded. "Then Moonrise."
The fire popped loudly.
The tension around the circle slowly began to loosen.
Karlach took another bite and pointed her spoon toward Minthara.
"So what's actually in this?"
Minthara answered calmly. "Mushrooms."
Karlach nodded. "Cool."
Minthara added, "And cave lizard."
Karlach paused mid-chew.
"...cool."
Skrikka raised a hand nervously.
"Is it… goblin?"
Minthara looked at her.
"No."
Skrikka relaxed immediately.
"Good."
Astarion leaned slightly toward Durge.
"I was hoping it might be."
Durge nodded thoughtfully.
"Waste not."
Wyll nearly choked.
Halsin stared at the fire like a man deeply questioning his life choices.
Shadowheart finally took a bite.
She blinked.
"...this is actually very good."
Minthara nodded once. "Underdark cuisine is often underestimated."
Karlach grinned.
"You know what?"
She pointed at the pot.
"If this is what evil tastes like, I might need seconds."
Durge raised her bowl. "I support this."
Behind Fin, Skrikka finally took a bite.
Her eyes widened.
"...okay."
She looked at Minthara.
"...Nightwarden cooks well."
Minthara did not react.
But the corner of Astarion's mouth twitched.
And slowly, awkwardly, the strangest dinner in the Sword Coast began to relax.
...
End of Chapter
Word Count - 5394