A few uneventful days pass as the group decides to head towards the Sunlit Wetlands. Back at the Emerald Grove, the party met a kind, old woman named Auntie Ethel who offered them help in their current predicament. If there's a possibility she has a cure, the adventurers will seize the opportunity. So, they begin their trek to the teahouse where she resides. They pass the ruins of the village they will need to cross if this plan fails, noticing tons of tiny goblin eyes on them.
However, it's the voices ahead that grasp the group's attention. Through the moss and trees is the old woman, cornered against a cliff face by two men. They claim their sister, Mayrina, is missing and accuse Ethel of knowing where she is. One has hair that is more orange than a wisping flame and tries to intimidate the poor woman, calling her 'hag'. The other is more gentle with Ethel, pleading with her to release Mayrina. Yet, Ethel denies the accusations, explaining she'd never even met the girl.
Just as the party approaches, the woman catches Delphie's emerald eyes. "You there! Please, I don't know what's come over these boys. I just want to go home." She calls over, watching as the wood elf picks up her pace.
For a moment, it feels like time stops. Delphie walks over slowly to the woman and peers into her wisdom-filled eyes, aging with crow's feet. There's something malevolent hidden within that quintessential innocent look she's giving her-something the wood elf never picked up on during their first meeting. Ethel is deceiving them. She knows something about this girl's whereabouts.
"You're lying. You have seen this girl." The ranger's words seem to start time again, brows furrowing as the curious glint in her eye fades away.
"Bollocks." It's almost as if Ethel took a wipe to the innocent look on her face. Hearing Delphie's words, she squints insolently at the wood elf, furrowing her brows with just as much intensity. "You were supposed to rush to my defense, love. Fat lot of good you are. Some advice? You ever darken my door, you best have that head bowed and an apology at the ready." The mutual glare between the two lingers for a few moments. "Bye-bye, now."
Within mere seconds, the old woman is gone...and so are Mayrina's brothers. Delphie watches as they cross the suspiciously low bridge that creates a path across the wetlands. Without a second thought, the ranger runs after them.
"Delphnye! Where are you going?" Shadowheart shouts before picking up her pace, grabbing a hold of Delphie's wrist.
"Seriously, Del, we need to think this through." Wyll speaks this time as the rest of the group catches up.
The wood elf frequently shifts her glance between her companions and the trail the brothers went down. "That girl's in trouble. Nothing good comes out of a deal with hags...trust me, I'd know." She finally meets Wyll's eyes believing if she could persuade him, the rest of them would follow. Astarion catches the interaction and rolls his eyes in disgust as he crosses his arms across his chest.
"That's fine and we can help, but I agree with Wyll." Gale lifts a hand to Delphie's shoulder, causing her to shift her gaze to him. Then, she notices it...the subtle shift of an illusion breaking. Her eyes focus on the greenery in front of them. As her forehead begins to glow, the illusion slowly fades. The pale elf beside her appears to be the only one who notices her forehead glowing as everyone else is distracted by the sudden change in scenery.
The wood elf shares a confused look with Astarion as the glowing fades and begins to run again.
Astarion rubs his temples in irritation as his companions run after the ranger. "Remember when the goal was to find a cure?"
"Astarion!" Shadowheart's voice rings out behind her.
"Ugh, fine! I'll come along if I must." Like a toddler throwing a tantrum, the pale elf flings his arms above him in exasperation before joining the rest of the party.
The area is no longer a beautiful sunny wetland. Instead, it's a swamp, foggy and gloomy. Dead trees and tall grass fill up most areas that aren't flooded with water. The air suddenly grows cold and all of the cute sheep that were wandering around have turned into disgusting redcaps. As they cross the moss-covered bridges, they notice a rundown hut of sorts, made of rotting wood and deteriorating twine. The vines surrounding it seem to have morphed into the hut and the straw on the roof looks like it began to decay.
Just as the party is about to walk up the creaky steps, Astarion pivots and absent-mindedly walks towards a large hill beside the teahouse.
"Astarion, the teahouse is this way." Delphie gestures over to the hut with her thumb as the rest of the party begins to walk up the steps, but Astarion holds out a finger to her and continues walking. Rolling her eyes, the wood elf reluctantly follows him. "You guys, scope the perimeter. We'll be right back."
The hill's muddy trail is easier to scale with the stone slabs paving the path. Once they reach the top, they're met with multiple large dead trees and rocks occupying the wet dirt beneath them, and a metallic and sickly-sweet aroma. Additionally, a man in a basic white tunic and brown vest greets them as they approach.
"Ah, fellow wanderers! Forgive the aroma. Powdered iron vine. An old hunter's trick. If you can't mask your scent,—"
"Spoil it." Delphie finishes his sentence with a blank face, trying to read him. From twenty years of being around predator and prey, she knows the tricks. She's even had to use them a handful of times herself.
"You're a monster hunter? I'm surprised—I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats." As per usual, Astarion butts into the conversation with a rude comment...although, Delphie doesn't pay attention to that. It's the mention of Gur.
"A Gur?" The wood elf raises her eyebrows in confusion and it shocks Astarion that she's never heard of them before.
"A mystical and dangerous people, we travel the land, never settling in one place. We steal your chicken, curse your crops, seduce your daughters—your friend here has heard it all, I'm sure." The monster hunter explains it with a sense of storytelling poise."I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess. Alas, I'm a simple wanderer...a simple wanderer and a monster hunter. But I'm no witch doctor or cutthroat."
"What are you hunting?" Delphie cocks her head and her voice cracks with genuine curiosity. Astarion finds it utterly adorable that she possesses this perpetual tic. Of course, he would never tell her that.
"Something terrifying, no doubt. Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?" The pale elf chimes in, gaining a small chuckle from Delphie in response.
"Nothing so dramatic. I'm hunting for a vampire spawn."
Astarion freezes, his smirk fading and eyes growing wider than a canyon. He catches Delphie's concerned gaze as the man continues to speak.
"His name is Astarion, but I fear he's gone to ground. I was hoping the hag of these lands could help me flush him out, but I fear I can't pay her blood price."
"And when you find him, you'll kill him?" The wood elf clears her throat, trying to disguise the quiver in her voice.
"Not this time. My orders are to capture him."
"Oh? And bring him where exactly?" Astarion's neutral tone is a lot more believable than hers. It's a miracle the Gur didn't pick up on it.
"Baldur's Gate. My people wait for me there." The man says it matter-of-factly, seemingly getting bored of the conversation.
Delphie and Astarion share one last glance as the shorter elf leans in. The pale elf could feel her lips graze his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
"I promised to keep you safe. I intend to keep that promise until the moment I die." She whispers before slowly pulling away from him with a soft look in her eyes. It takes them both a moment to realize she is using his bicep to steady herself. Unlike previous moments like this, she doesn't rip her hands away as if he burned her. Instead, she slowly releases her grasp, stealthily reaching for the dagger sheathed in Astarion's belt without taking her eyes off him.
Quicker than lightning, she unsheathes the blade and hurls it in the Gur's direction. The man doesn't have time to react before it pierces through his eye. He screams out in agony as Astarion, with his vampiric stealth, rushes toward him and pushes the dagger farther in, twisting it. Astarion pulls out his dagger and wipes the blood on the man's tunic.
As he resheathes it, the rest of the party makes their way up the hill.
"What the fuck just happened?" Gale asks with wide eyes.
"It's a long story." Delphie quickly responds, wiping sweat off her brow.
"How about we go kill a hag now?" The worried expression on Astarion's face withers away as he speaks, clapping his hands together. Nobody decides to press further as they continue their way to the hut.
The battle with Ethel is long and the girl they save is ungrateful. It's beyond frustrating and everyone arrives back at camp with different wounds from burns to deep lashes. The vampire spawn is wounded the worst, with a severe burn that melted through his leather armor to his chest. Delphie, still soaked in blood, moves with purpose through the darkness of the night. The air is thick with a sense of both magic and anticipation, and the moon casts a silvery glow upon the clearing where Astarion, wounded and weary, awaits salvation.
Astarion lies on the cold ground. Delphie approaches him with an air of serene determination, her eyes reflecting the starlight. The night seems to hold its breath as she kneels beside the wounded vampire spawn, her fingers brushing lightly over his burn.
"You know, Shadowheart might've been able to teach me a healing spell or two, but I still think she's your best bet when it comes to healing."
"Oh, but darling. Why go to her when you're already here?" The vampire spawn's playful retort is raspy and quiet. Delphie can sense the pain he feels and responds with a gentle smile.
With a soft and melodic voice, Delphie begins to chant words that resonate with the ancient power of the forestry around them. The incantation hangs in the air like a delicate melody, carrying with it the promise of healing. Her hands move gracefully, tracing intricate patterns in the air, weaving a tapestry of magic that blends seamlessly with the night.
As she continues her enchantment, a soft luminescence emanates from the wood elf's fingertips, casting a gentle glow on Astarion's battered form. The wound begins to respond to the natural energy, closing and mending under the influence of the spell. Astarion, who has been tense with pain, feels a soothing warmth spreading through his body.
The clearing echoes with the subtle sounds of the night—the rustling leaves, the distant hooting of an owl, the occasional whisper from their companions, and the ethereal hum of Delphie's magic. The healing continues until Astarion's wounds are nothing more than faint scars, and the weariness that has clouded his eyes lifted.
As the spell reaches its completion, Delphie's chanting softens, and she pauses, her hands lingering over Astarion's now-healed wounds. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, time seems to stand still in the quietude of the enchanted night. Delphie clears her throat and shifts her gaze to the ground. "Are you okay?"
With a nod of gratitude, Astarion rises from the ground, feeling the strength coursing through his revitalized body. "Why wouldn't I be? I do enjoy a good blood bath, my dear. Plus, I do have a lovely wood elf healing me at the moment." The ranger, her task complete, offers a gentle smile with a slight pink tint on her cheeks.
"I'm talking about the monster hunter." The smile quickly fades as she whispers her words.
The crisp air carries a sense of introspection that seems to resonate with the gravity of the conversation about to unfold. Delphie, with her ethereal presence, and Astarion, still carrying the weight of his centuries-old existence, face each other in the stillness of the night, the voices of their companions dying out with the flames of the fire pit.
Delphie's eyes, pools of unique wisdom, meet Astarion's gaze, which holds both the weariness of long life and the shadows of untold stories. The soft rustling of leaves overhead adds a backdrop to the impending exchange, their whispered conversation seeming to echo the complexities of the lives intertwined in this moment.
"Well, he's dead now, so it doesn't matter anymore." The rogue's voice is bitter and bleak.
The ranger in front of him searches his eyes for some sense of remorse. She wants to trust him, but she needs to know what he's been hiding from her. "What did you do for someone to send a monster hunter after you?"
"I didn't do anything! I was kidnapped—just like you." An exasperated sigh escapes from his cold lips. "It seems Cazador wants me back."
"And you're sure this was Cazador's doing?"
The man bends over slightly to level with her. "It was him, I'm sure. Only he would know to send the Gur after me." His back straightens as he continues, but the fear. The trauma, although still somewhat hidden by his facade, manages to shift his tone ever so slightly. "It was a group of Gur that attacked me that night in Baldur's Gate. I would've died had Cazador not appeared and saved me."
"Saved you by turning you into a slave? Astarion, his intention was never to save you." There's something in the way she's gazing into his eyes. Almost as if embers are continuously swirling with the sheer determination she always has when she's passionate about something.
Astarion slumps over with an exasperated sigh. "Well, he didn't mention the 'slave' clause at the time. And now he sends a Gur monster hunter for me? It's a message."
Delphie takes a step closer as if she can barely hear him. A look of confusion etches upon her face as she tilts her head. "A message?"
"He's reminding me of his power. Even in the middle of nowhere, he can reach me and he wants me back."
"Not to sound so dire, but why capture you? Why not kill you?"
Astarion shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways. Or maybe he thinks death is too good for me."
"Hey." The wood elf places her hands gently on his face and moves his head to look at her. A gentle smile forms on her pink lips. "I'll keep you safe."
The vampire spawn stares at her with a blank expression. She was so close to him. A week ago she'd pinned him up against a tree for being this close to her. What changed?
It doesn't matter. He needs her to understand what's at stake here. "Safe?" As on cue with his words, Astarion moves her hands away and gives her a stern look. "You think you can keep me safe? Do you know the power a vampire lord possesses?"
"Astarion—" Delphie makes herself look so small. She almost looks hurt...but he can't let her distract him.
"He can change shape; turn into mist; call wolves to do his bidding; shrug off blows like they're nothing." He interrupts, watching as her mouth snaps shut at his words. "He could walk into camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands...and you'd be lucky if death was the worst thing to happen to you."
Delphie nods solemnly in understanding, her gaze lingering on the ground. "So...what do we do?"
"First, we have to—uh..." Astarion thinks for a moment. "I don't know. If we kill his lackeys, he'll just send more. We just have to be vigilant. Keep our wits about us. And kill any monster hunters in sight."
The brown curls of Delphie's hair flip around as she focuses her attention on the monster hunter currently traveling with them. The thought of having to kill Wyll sends a shiver down her spine. She couldn't kill him, but that would possibly mean she would have to kill Astarion. She knows the pale elf would not hesitate to watch the warlock's body spray crimson all over camp if it meant keeping himself safe. However, the thought of killing her vampire spawn companion makes her nauseous for a moment. What has this man done to her mind?
"Well, Wyll's an exception, my dear." The sound of his voice allows her to sigh in relief. "Probably..." Delphie playfully rolls her eyes.
Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, something about the relationship between Wyll and Delphie makes him angry beyond hells. When it comes to Wyll, Delphie tends to laugh a little harder at his jokes, even though Astarion's are funnier. She smiles a little bigger, yet Astarion, being two hundred years old, knows better than most how to charm others. Yet, to his irritation, Wyll always seems to have the upper hand when it comes to her, but the pale elf plans to change that. He needs Delphie. He needs her to survive. He needs her protection and nobody will get in the way of that. Astarion knows this, but every time he thinks about it, the pit of his stomach twists and turns like some sort of chaotic teleportation circle.
"Darling," The pale elf pauses giving her a soft look with a surprisingly warm smile. "You've asked many questions about me, but I feel like I still hardly know anything about you."
"I mean there's not much to know. You pretty much know the basics." Despite the sadness in her eyes, she gives him a goofy smile. They stare at each other for a moment before a soft, unfeigned chuckle escapes Delphie's mouth as she rolls her eyes playfully. "What do you want to know?"
"I've noticed sometimes the scars on your forehead glow-" He begins rubbing his chin with his index finger and thumb.
A faint pink blush is painted upon her face as she absent-mindedly plays with a piece of her hair. "Oh, that? I still do that sometimes?" Much to her chagrin, a fake laugh takes the place of the previously soft chuckle. She stops fiddling with her hair and rubs the back of her head. "Um, I don't know. I've been doing that for about five years now, on and off. Sometimes, it happens when I'm nervous. Or when I'm just relaxing. I don't know why, though."
"Does it have to do with your snakes, I wonder?" Delphie shrugs her shoulders, the pink tint slowly fading from her face. After another moment of comfortable silence, Astarion thinks of another question with a smirk. "You mentioned earlier of a past encounter with a hag..."
The gentle smile on Delphie's face fades away as she stares off into space. The pale elf in front of her immediately regrets his question and feels his stomach knot again. Why is he always hungry around her? Her blood was a delicacy and it was like ecstasy to him. That could be the reason. After all, he remembers how close they were when he drank from her wrist. He'll never forget how she smells of balsam and oranges. The sound of her loud exhale brings him out of his thoughts.
"Um, so," She begins. "After like twelve years or so being in the woods by myself, I got tired of it. I loved the animals. The flora." A small nostalgic smile forms on her lips as she closes her eyes. "The warm sun on my face and the soft breeze in my hair. For a long time, it felt like home. Then, being eighteen years old with no friends other than a few reptiles, I started to long for companionship. Friendship. Family." She opens her eyes as the smile fades once again. "I didn't know where to start and I was so naive about the world outside of the forest. But, then I met this one hag."
The wood elf finally meets Astarion's eyes, which are filled with genuine remorse, as far as she can tell. "She promised she would be able to help me find a home other than the forest where I resided. Little did I know, she had already made a deal with my mother." Delphie scoffs, averting her gaze from Astarion. "Something didn't feel right when she told me she wanted nothing in return, but I longed for a home so badly, I didn't care. She brought me back to the Temple of Bhaal. Turned out, she was watching me those twelve years. Watching me grow. Train. Fight." Tears start to well up in her eyes. "My mother didn't just abandon me, Astarion. She thought if I was left with animals, I'd become one. She didn't want me to feel anything. She thought that I would forget, but I felt everything." Suddenly, she turns to Astarion and places her hands on his cheeks, pulling his forehead towards her own.
That familiar tingle in his brain calls for him again. Delphie opens up her memories to him and he finds himself diving in without hesitation, which scares the fuck out of him. Flashes of Delphie's childhood flood his mind:
Her first encounter with snakes; she was freezing to death at night and hundreds of snakes slithered and coiled around her body to help her retain her body heat. Befriending a gold wrymling, whom she eagerly named Echo. Finding a group of iguanas, who welcomed her into their family. Feeding different reptiles and giggling as they affectionately kiss her with their tiny tongues.
The memories fade as she lets go of his face and pulls away. He opens his eyes, noticing the tears streaming down her cheeks. "She tried to break me down faster than I was built. She would let men do whatever they wanted to me. She would let this one girl who was a few years older than me beat me until I was on the brink of death. But, I wouldn't budge and one day, they gave up and threw me back into the woods. I remember wanting to close my eyes because I was so tired, but then Echo came." Subconsciously, she reaches for the golden scale around her neck and a content smile creeps onto her face. "I hadn't seen her in years and she was so much bigger than the last time I saw her, but she couldn't stay in the forest with me, so once I healed, she gave me this. I can only use it once, but it will summon her for me." A wet chuckle escapes Delphie's lips as she wipes the tears from her face. "Now, you know basically everything."
Astarion gazes into her eyes for a moment before he clears his throat and the muscles in his jaw tighten, almost as if he's struggling to hold something back. "I—um..." He doesn't have to say anything more. Delphie knows what he is attempting to say and she gives him a gentle nod. He blinks multiple times and looks away from her. She could've sworn she heard a sniffle, too. After a moment of silence, he speaks again with his back to her. "Thank you...for healing me...again."
As the pale elf begins to walk away, Delphie places a hand on his, the touch warm and filled with a quiet strength. "Astarion..."
The pale elf turns around, noticing the sincere look in her eyes. "Hmm?"
"I meant what I've said. Especially after today, you've earned my trust and I swear I will protect you until my very last breath." For the first time, she notices the look of content on his face isn't a facade.