Dayereth and his companions returned to the crossroads, getting prepared to meet with King Witchthorn. Princess Ishaldra explained that the signs marking the way are fey travel devices. She instructed Donall to write down Shady Glade on the unmarked sign. He did so, and afterwards, the sign started to spin around the post. When it came to a stop, it pointed to a conjured path, one that terrified the young sorcerer.
The pathway was covered in darkness and descended further down into the valley. It was a gloomy sight to behold with only purple lights barely separating the path from darkness that surrounded it. Dayereth focused, sensing that a great and terrible powerful was waiting for them on the other side. It was his quest to see that King Witchthorn did not ally with Old Gnawbones, but he remembered Nora's warning on how dangerous the ancient fey were.
Ishaldra led the way down the path. She had recovered and no longer needed the support of Donall to stand. He followed after her, his calm nerve unwavering. Balthasar placed a hand on Dayereth's shoulder, his face showing distrust and caution. The wood elf sighed, then walked onward, protected by his purple lights made the black treelines clear to see, although that did little to comfort the young sorcerer. A cold wind breezing through chilled across his spine as they arrived in the Shady Glade.
There were hundreds of fey of all different kinds watching the group of four. Before them was King Witchthorn, sitting on a throne carved from wood and bone, the latter of which sickened Dayereth. The king was twice the size of Balthasar with a bare torso. Thorns wrapped over his shoulders and around his arms. Thankfully, his lower half was covered by a loose piece of moss. Dayereth focused on his face, an attractive one covered by green leaves. Yet, that devilish smirk, along with the two beastial horns of a ram emerging from a head, made him look anything but good.
Dayereth thought on how he should proceed. The effects of the green dragon's lair were starting to corrupt the fey. Yet, King Witchthorn was not corrupted by the dragon. The sorcerer could tell that he was always evil and sinister. He could feel his heart beat faster as Ishaldra stepped forward, bowing before the fey lord. After taking a deep breath in, he reminded himself that he had to stand strong. He had a duty to complete. He could not let the Viridian Guardians down.
"My love," Witchthorn spoke with a cunning and seductive voice. "I have missed you as moss misses the gentle rain."
"I am glad to be back," Ishaldra smiled at her master. "Of course, I wouldn't be saved without the help of these three adventurers."
"Then I shall excuse their intrusion upon my lair," Witchthorn announced with a lowly growl. "Speak your piece, strangers."
"I am Dayereth Hanali, leader of the Viridian Guardians," the sorcerer stepped forward, introducing himself. "With me are my companions, Donall Marvina, my advisor, and Balthasar Genefel, my trusted guard. The three of us have-"
"I do not care about your deeds," Witchthorn waved a dismissive hand during his interruption. "You mortals care so very much about the deeds you accomplish during your short time."
"Uh, of course," Dayereth sighed.
"Come now, do you give up so easily when you want something? Witchthorn chuckled. "Where is your passion?"
"We want you not to ally with Claugiyliamatar," Dayereth declared.
"Well, I wasn't going to ally with her anymore," Witchthorn informed him. "I may have aided her once, yes, but she has crossed me too many times! She corrupts my glade! My forest!"
"Oh, in that case, our job is done," Dayereth smiled weakly. "We'll be on our aid."
"Without asking for my help?" Witchthorn asked, curious.
Dayereth paused, looking alarmed if only for a moment. Even though the Harpers requested they make some sort of deal with Witchthorn, the sorcerer's consciousness was telling him how bad of an idea that was. He wanted nothing more to deal with the fey lord. Yet, by refusing any kind of deal, he would be disrespecting their host, who could strike out against them or their forces. The sorcerer would not be afraid but did not want his companions to suffer. He would entertain the offer for the safety of the Viridian Guardians.
"I'm listening," Dayereth forced the words out.
"Claugiyliamatar is stronger than the three of you put together," Witchthorn told them. "Her poisonous breath will melt away your flesh and her claws will rend your bones. Even with the army you have, even if it was in the thousands, she would feast upon you all."
"That's very reassuring," Dayereth gave out a light chuckle, a bead of sweat falling down his forehead.
"I can shield you and your allies from her attacks," Witchthorn offered. "I can tell you why the Cult of the Dragon is here. And I can give you a way into the stronghold. All I require is a pledge. It can be from you, or your advisor, or your guard. You will be oath bound so that I may call upon you at a moment of my choosing."
"Say the word, and I shall make the pledge," Donall whispered calmly to Dayereth. "You don't have to make this pledge."
"No, Donall," Dayereth shook his head, noticing the worried look on Ishaldra's face. "I lead the Viridian Guardians. Whatever this pledge may be, I shall be the one to make it."
Dayereth gave brave words, but he was terrified. A prophecy talked about how he would be the one to bring a terrible end. A terrible end to what, he did not know. The young sorcerer never gave much heed to those ancient texts. He believed that he was in charge of his fate, and that his destiny would be great, one of which the bards would sing about for generations to come. Yet, by accepting this deal, it was possible he was following the prophecy set in place.
Witchthorn stepped off from his throne, strolling casually down the steps until he came face-to-face with Dayereth. The fey lord lowered himself, now closer to his height, and extended a gnarly hand. All he had to do was shake on their deal, his pledge, and the fight against Claugiyliamatar would become all the more easier. He thought of the Viridian Guardians. He thought of Balthasar, Donall, Jabble, Jarsali, and all of the others. For their sake, he had to take this deal. Slowly, Dayereth raised his hand, trembling nervously.
Suddenly, the comforting grip of Balthasar's hand on his shoulder tightened. Dayereth gasped when he was suddenly thrown off to the side. The fey all gasped and even Witchthorn was surprised by the events that took place. Seemingly, only Donall kept his stoic nature. Before anyone could possibly react to the attack, Balthasar firmly grabbed onto Witchthorn's extended hand. Dayereth could sense a slight magic weaving between them. The pledge was made.
"I pledge myself to you, King Witchthorn," Balthasar snarled. "When you call upon me, I shall answer."
"How noble of a soul, taking the place of your liege," Witchthorn complimented.
"It is my duty to keep him safe," Balthasar growled. "And if you dare try to harm him, I shall cut you down myself so-"
"We'll be having none of that," Witchthorn waved his hand and Balthasar collapsed.
"Bal!" Dayereth rushed off to his friend's side.
"He's asleep," Witchthorn returned to his throne. "I would not kill the man who pledged his life to me. Now, let's talk business. The Zartuss hobgoblins are deadly archers and possess a siege weapon. You must claim that siege weapon if you wish to win the battle. I can grant you a portal into an ancient tower within the stronghold. It will be up to you to deal with the hobgoblins of the battlements."
"And of the Cult of the Dragon?" Donall questioned, taking Dayereth's place as he shook Balthasar awake futilely.
"You're not going to be able to wake him while he's in my realm," Witchthorn told Dayereth. "The Cult of the Dragon threatens my forest. They threaten the Moonsea. They threaten all of the realm. They come to my forest for a powerful relic: a mask that their plans depend on that the hobgoblin warlord Garbul wields."
"The hobgoblins wield a relic such as that?" Dayereth asked, standing up. "Why?"
"Claugiyliamatar does not live within her stronghold and leaves her treasure to her minions," Witchthorn explained. "Still, if it comes under attack, she will attack."
"Dayereth, are you there?" the sorcerer gasped when he heard Valero's voice echo. "Report in."
"Who is that?" Witchthorn questioned.
"That is a speaking stone we carry," Donall answered without hesitation. "Dayereth nearly forgot it, so I carried it on his behalf. Come, my friend. Report while I finalize details with King Witchthorn."
Dayereth let out a sigh of relief, glad that he no longer have to bargain with King Witchthorn. Donall reached into his pockets and pulled out a stone with runes carved into it. He handed it to his friend who started to relax. What he needed now was to hear from the Viridian Guardians, see how they fared. Hopefully, they were doing better than he and his group were.
"King Witchthorn will aid us in the coming battle," Dayereth whispered into the stone. "We'll be entering the stronghold soon. The hobgoblins have a mask or something the Cult of the Dragon wants."
"We know," Dayereth smiled when he heard Jarsali's voice. "The Green Dragon Mask. My group is currently on their way to the stronghold as well."
"Both factions within the Cult of the Dragons want it," Jabble joined in. "We'll be flying into the stronghold with style!"
"And our armies will be marching in soon after," Valero announced. "However, we cannot risk losing the mask. I will need a member from each of your group to split off within the stronghold to take the mask."
"I'm sending Olunt," Jarsali declared without any hesitation. "He's only going to slow down my stealth operation. Fighting hobgoblins will suit his needs better."
"Then it's best I have Valida join him," Jabble offered. "They work well together, and she is the least injured of our group."
"I'll come to lead the final push then," Dayereth nodded. "That was quick."
"Best of luck to you, Viridian Guardians," Valero's voice faded away.
"Ha! See you all in the stronghold!" Jabble remarked.
"Looking forward to it!" Dayereth agreed.
"Day, is everything alright on your end?" Jarsali asked, concerned. "Your tone is different than what usually is, only ever so slightly."
"I'm… I'll be fine, Jarsali," Dayereth tried to assure her.
"If you think so, but we'll talk after the battle," Jarsali sighed. "Don't die, Day."
"Same goes for you, and that's an order." Dayereth said in a joking manner.
The stone went silent. After a few moments of hesitating, he pocketed the stone. This quest was challenging the Viridian Guardians, both physically and mentally. Balthasar had made a sacrifice because of their quest. Dayereth dreamed of the Viridian Guardians becoming more powerful and being well known by the world. That did not matter to him for now. What mattered is that all of his companions and friends survived the coming battle.
A/N: When I wrote this chapter, Tasha's Cauldron of Everything wasn't out yet. Now that it's out, I think it serves as good foreshadowing for what Barbarian archetype Balthasar is going to end up, as he is the character whose sheet I changed. I think you can easily make a case for him taking either of those subclasses. I know which path he's on already but I won't share.
If you like the story, feel free to follow it and leave a review if you feel compelled to do so.
Until next time.