As the two elves approached the camp, Ishta stopped just out of sight of the boundary torches and turned to Astarion with a solemn look in her eyes. The trees whispered above them, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, their rustling leaves a comforting sound as she prepared to broach a delicate subject. "It might be best if you wait here while I go and smooth things over first. How much of your story are you comfortable with me telling them?" she asked, her voice low and serious.
The question seemed to catch him off guard. His contemplative gaze met hers and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I'm not sure... I suppose there's no harm in telling them about Cazador - it might even be beneficial if they want to take their anger out on a Vampire they're actually allowed to kill."
His attempt at humor fell flat, his lips twitching into a grimace as a pained expression crossed his face. He crossed his arms defensively. "Just try not to make me sound too..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable as he shifted on his feet.
"Too what?" Ishta pressed, her gaze unwavering, studying the shadows that flickered across his face.
"Too pathetic," he mumbled, his voice barely audible, avoiding her gaze. His shoulders slumped slightly, a silent admission of the insecurities he struggled to conceal.
The cocky demeanor he had displayed earlier had slowly dissipated as they neared the camp, replaced by the anxious anticipation of facing their companions. Ishta felt a mix of emotions swirl within her: a touch of amusement at his pride, and sadness over knowing knowing that deep down his bravado was just a facade to hide his vulnerabilities. He reminded her of a cat sometimes, puffing up its fur and trying to appear bigger and stronger to scare off predators.
"Astarion, you are many things, but pathetic is certainly not one of them," she assured him with a gentle smile, hoping to convey the depth of her sincerity.
Astarion looked up at her slowly and his eyes flickered with emotion. For a moment, the world seemed to pause as he stared at her silently.
To save him the discomfort of trying to put whatever he was feeling into words, Ishta turned and quickly strode away. She could hear his sharp intake of breath behind her and hesitated, torn between caution and stubborn defiance.
With a frustrated huff, she made a split-second decision and called out to him. "You know what? Come with me," she declared fiercely, a sense of protectiveness strengthening her resolve. "To hells with what they think. This is my decision and they can either accept it or sod off."
Without waiting for his response, Ishta spun around and marched determinedly towards the edge of the forest, her footsteps heavy and purposeful. Astarion quickly caught up, his presence like a shadow that silently fell into step beside her.
As they emerged from the treeline and into the illuminated clearing, Ishta was met with anxious and questioning faces belonging to Gale, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel. Their eyes flickered with concern and distrust, creating an unspoken tension in the air.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Ishta approached them with raised hands as if to ward off any potential questions. But Shadowheart's eyes narrowed suspiciously, her posture stiff and unyielding.
"Why isn't he dead?" she demanded sharply, shooting Astarion a venomous glare.
"Because you have terrible aim," Ishta replied deadpan, refusing to let Shadowheart's hostility affect her.
The clearing fell into a tense silence for a moment before Shadowheart's flushed face erupted with anger. Ishta was genuinely worried she might burst a blood vessel, while Gale coughed awkwardly in an attempt to diffuse the situation. Even Lae'zel looked taken aback, her eyes widening in surprise.
The two women stood facing each other, the tension growing before Shadowheart suddenly let out a bitter chuckle, her shoulders slumping.
"You truly do have the worst sense of timing," she sighed, her voice dripping with irritation.
"I'll say..." Astarion muttered under his breath.
Ishta forced a faint smile and addressed the group, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of urgency. "I understand this may be difficult for you all to accept, but I've made my decision. Astarion will continue traveling with us. Despite tonight's...incident, he is still a valuable member of our party. If we intend to proceed to the Goblin camp, we will need all the capable fighters we have."
Shadowheart's eyes widened in disbelief and her voice rose in protest. "You can't be serious! He tried to bite me and then nearly choked me to death. Why would you decide something like this?"
"Because I trust him," Ishta replied calmly, meeting Shadowheart's intense gaze head on.
Gale's startled "What?" was echoed by an equally taken aback Astarion who quickly added, "I mean...yes, you can trust me."
Shadowheart shook her head in confusion and anger. "I don't understand how you can so easily trust him after what he did."
Ishta took a step closer to Shadowheart, her expression softening but her voice unwavering. "I'm choosing to trust him just as I am choosing to trust you, Shadowheart. The last followers of Shar that I encountered attempted to behead me, so I could be forgiven for treating you with a certain degree of suspicion... but I chose instead to accept you as an ally."
Shadowheart's initial anger faltered as uncertainty crossed her face. Ishta reached out and gently placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, nodding towards Gale as she spoke with quiet conviction. "Just as I chose to trust a powerful Wizard with a mysterious and dangerous condition and a fierce Githyanki who almost killed me on sight."
Silence hung heavy in the air, the weight of Ishta's words sinking in. After a moment, Lae'zel broke the tension with her stern declaration, "Fine - he stays, 'til he's no longer of use. But should I wake with so much as a drop of blood on my neck, I will end him."
A tense silence followed these words, broken only by the sound of Astarion shifting uncomfortably.
Ishta's expression twisted into a wry smile. "Of that I have no doubt Lae'zel," she said, her gaze turning to Astarion. "However that won't happen...will it Astarion?"
He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head vigorously and replying, "Of course not. Cross my heart and hope to...er..." He trailed off, realizing what he was about to say before quickly correcting himself. "I promise to behave."
Ishta could feel Shadowhearts shoulders relaxing slightly as she sighed. But there was still a hint of doubt in her eyes as she muttered begrudgingly, "Fine. But if he tries anything, anything at all..."
"He won't," Ishta assured her, shooting a quick glance at Astarion who nodded.
"Quite the opposite. I'm here in the spirit of openness and honesty, to work together as a team," he smiled, though there was an underlying suggestion of smugness to his voice.
Gale furrowed his brow skeptically. "You say all the right words, but I'm not so sure you mean the right things. Still, I will respect the decision that was made." He nodded at Ishta before turning to Astarion and adding, "A word of warning, Astarion: I taste absolutely awful. Best keep your distance."
Astarion's smirk faltered for a moment before returning in full force. "There now. We're all friends again," he said, though his eyes still betrayed a hint of unease.
Ishta squeezed Shadowheart's shoulder in silent gratitude and turned around to face Astarion. "Just one more thing, I believe you owe her an apology," she said firmly.
"Hmm? Oh...of course," Astarion replied with a charming smile as he bowed theatrically to Shadowheart. "Please accept my most humble apologies my dear."
Sensing Shadowheart tense up beside her, Ishta let out an exasperated sigh. Pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, she said slowly and deliberately, "Very good. Now let's try that once more...and make it sound like you actually mean it this time."
Opening her eyes and glaring at Astarion, she could see him frowning in reluctance. But this time, there was a glimmer of sincerity in his voice as he addressed Shadowheart directly. "Tonight was a mistake - Ishta can fill you in on the details - but it won't happen again, I swear. As for nearly choking you...well, take it as a compliment that I felt you were that much of a risk to my life."
A small groan escaped from Ishta as she turned to Shadowheart apologetically. "I think that's as close as you're going to get," she said wearily.
"Maybe we could get him to wear a bell - dissuade any night-time prowling," Shadowheart quipped half-heartedly, a faint smile appearing on her lips.
Ishta smiled back weakly, then straightened her shoulders and took on an authoritative tone. "There are only a few hours left until dawn, so I suggest everyone heads back to their tents and tries to rest up as best they can."
Astarion stepped forward. "I'll be going back out into the forest to hunt," he informed them, his gaze lingering on Ishta for a moment before continuing with a mischievous smile, "You were invigorating, but I need something more filling."
With that, he turned and made his way towards the edge of the clearing, pausing only to call over his shoulder "Ishta... This is a gift, you know. I won't forget it."
As he disappeared into the shadows, all three pairs of eyes slowly turned towards Ishta, who met their gaze with an unflappable calmness she didn't feel.
"You... let him feed on you?" Gale asked incredulously, his voice carrying a clear note of disapproval.
Ishta cleared her throat and shrugged nonchalantly. "I did yes. And if it makes you feel any better, it hurt like hells," she replied with an appeasing smile.
"It doesn't," Shadowheart remarked acerbically.
There was a long silence, and Ishta cleared her throat again, feeling the weight of their judgment. "So... I'm taking the next watch then am I?" she asked, trying to break the tension.
"A splendid idea. Thank you, Ishta," Gale said with an exaggerated, mocking approval as he and the rest of the group made their way back to their tents. Ishta let out a heavy sigh and sat down beside the dwindling fire, rubbing her temples in frustration.
"It's fine, rest is overrated anyways," she muttered to herself before groaning and burying her head in her hands. "Urgh!...why me?" she lamented. "Why do I always end up dealing with all this shit?"
The next morning found the group trudging silently through the outskirts of a vast swamp. The weak light of dawn struggled to filter through thick, swirling mist that hung in the air like a heavy veil. Twisted shadows stretched out from the bare, skeletal trees that dotted the landscape, their gnarled branches reaching toward the gray sky.
A putrid scent filled the air, a heady blend of damp earth and decaying vegetation. The occasional call of a distant bird pierced through the thick miasma, adding an eerie layer to the already ominous atmosphere.
In the distance, perched atop rugged cliffs and silhouetted against the murky sky, Astarion could make out the hazy outlines of the Selunite temple. He frowned, his usually confident demeanor faltering as the oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on his shoulders.
The mood was somber as each member of the party trudged forward, lost in their own thoughts. The revelations from the previous night still weighed heavily on their minds, casting a pall over their journey. And as if sensing their unease, the swamp seemed to reflect it back at them, its stagnant waters and twisted flora serving as an oppressive backdrop to their subdued procession.
Leading the way with her usual confident grace was Ishta, her steps sure despite the treacherous terrain beneath her feet. Her eyes scanned the horizon with determination, but Astarion could see the flicker of worry in her gaze.
He clung to her side as closely as he dared, trying not to show his aversion towards the others. Shadowheart's piercing glances in his direction throughout the morning ritual of disbanding camp had not gone unnoticed. Even now, Astarion could practically feel her eyes boring into his back like two daggers. He could hardly blame her though after his actions the night before.
Suddenly, Shadowheart let out a curse as she sloshed through a particularly muddy patch of ground. She grimaced, lifting her boot to inspect the damage. "I hate swamps," she griped loudly. "The place reeks - probably full of bloodsuckers as well."
Ishta glanced back at her with a knowing look and nodded. "Oh yes, crawling with leeches, mosquitoes, lampreys, and Stirges. Even a few of the plants are hungry for your blood," she added cheerfully.
"Wonderful," Shadowheart muttered sarcastically. "You must feel right at home here, Astarion."
Hopping over a patch of particularly slimy ground, Astarion looked around and shuddered at the dismal surroundings. "Hardly," he said thoughtfully, his voice tinged with disdain. "Too much competition for my taste. Not enough warm bodies to go around," he added with a sly smile at the Cleric, his proximity to Ishta giving him confidence.
Shadowheart sighed, her irritation evident as she wiped her boot against a tuft of grass. She cast a sideways glance at Astarion, her expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Well, our wise leader has already introduced us to one bloodsucker, what's a few more?"
Astarion glanced at Ishta and saw her rolling her eyes and huffing silently to herself. He could tell she was reaching her limit with the scathing comments she had been on the receiving end of all morning. Her usual calm demeanor was starting to crack, and he could see the tension in her clenched jaw and tightened grip on her weapon.
A small part of him felt guilty for contributing to it, but he was just relieved their companions seemed to be more annoyed at her than him - at least for now.
"Looks to be another 'warm body' over there." Gale's sharp observation drew the group's attention towards a figure emerging from under the shade of a sickly looking willow tree.
As the human approached, his cautious footsteps navigating the treacherous terrain, Astarion felt a surge of disgust rise in his throat. The man's sun-tanned skin bore faint scars, each one a testament to past battles. His long, sandy blonde hair cascaded down his shoulders in loose braids, complementing his thick beard and curved mustache.
A white linen shirt hinted at his muscular build, topped with a worn yet well-maintained leather jacket and a heavy crossbow was strapped to his back. He carried himself with a sense of quiet confidence, his gaze steady and unflinching. All together, his appearance spoke of a life balanced between civilization and the wild.
It also marked him as a Gur.
"Ah, strangers. Forgive the aroma," the man apologized as he stood in front of them, his voice warm and inviting.
Astarion caught a whiff of an unpleasant odor - metallic and sickly sweet - that nearly made him retch. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to maintain his composure as the man continued.
"Powdered iron-vine," he explained with a smile, "An old hunter's trick. Most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me."
Astarion couldn't help but scoff inwardly at the notion that any self-respecting monster would want to eat a Gur. But he maintained his facade of polite interest as the man spoke.
"You're a monster hunter? I'm surprised - I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats," Astarion remarked, feigning disbelief. He tilted his head, watching the man's reaction closely.
Ishta shook her head and pushed past him, giving him a warning glance as she did so. Her patience was wearing thin, and Astarion could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes.
"Ignore the elf," she told the man firmly but with a friendly smile. "He talks too much."
The man chuckled good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You should listen to your companion. Next thing he'll warn you that my people can curse your cow to give only sour milk and will seduce your daughter to a life of roaming."
Astarion felt a surge of irritation at the man's agreeable manner. He had been hoping for a confrontation, but it seemed his luck had run out. His shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in his body easing just a fraction.
"I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess," the man said ruefully. "Alas, I am a simple wanderer. A simple wanderer and monster hunter. But I'm no witch doctor or cutthroat." He introduced himself with a smile. "My name is Gandrel."
Ishta extended her hand and shook the man's firmly. "Then well met, friend. My name is Ishta," she introduced herself proudly, "I too am a monster hunter... or rather I used to be."
She paused for a moment, giving Astarion a sideways glance before adding with a wry smile, "Life has taken something of a funny turn lately."
Astarion's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Ishta's words. He knew she was a hunter...but a monster hunter? It made him slightly uneasy that she had chosen to withhold that particular distinction from him.
Gandrel's next words caused even more shock and surprise among the group. "Forgive me, but would you perhaps be Ishta Dawnstar of Aglarond?" he asked. His hesitant voice carried the weight of recognition as his eyes took in her scimitars, widening with awe.
Ishta suddenly shifted on her feet, her usual confidence wavering as she cleared her throat nervously "I...you've heard of me?" she asked cautiously, uncertainty shining through her usually composed demeanor. Astarion could see her guard faltering, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability that piqued his curiosity about her past even more.
Gandrel nodded enthusiastically, his excitement barely contained. "There are few among my profession who haven't heard of you, particularly those from east of the Sea of Stars. Your feats have become legend in Aglarond. Fortune truly smiles upon me, for I may have found the perfect individual to aid me in my hunt."
"Well...as I said, I used to be a hunter," Ishta stated carefully, her reservations evident in her tone. "I also have prior obligations. But I'm curious, what kind of monster are you hunting?"
Astarion sauntered up beside her with a smug smirk on his face, looking down at Gandrel condescendingly. "Something terrifying, no doubt. Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?" he asked with a mocking sneer, his words dripping with sarcasm.
The smirk instantly vanished from his face when Gandrel replied calmly, "Nothing so dramatic. I'm hunting for a Vampire Spawn. His name is Astarion, but I fear he's gone to ground. I hope the hag of these lands can help me flush him out if I can afford her blood price."
A chill crept down Astarion's spine, his heart hammering in his chest. He forced himself to maintain a neutral expression, but inside he was panicking. Glancing at Ishta, he wondered how she would react to this sudden revelation. After the way she had treat him last night, he felt fairly certain she wouldn't betray him, but the others might be a different story.
Ishta's heart sank as she looked at the unwitting man in front of them. Beside her, Astarion swallowed nervously, his anxiety palpable. She could feel the weight of his worry pressing down on her own chest, making it hard to catch her breath. This was the last thing they needed today.
"And if you find this 'Astarion' - terrible name for a Vampire, by the way - you'll what? Kill him?" Ishta asked nonchalantly, trying to hide her concern behind a mask of indifference.
Gandrel shook his head with a grim expression. "Not this time. My orders are to capture him."
"Oh? And bring him where, exactly?" Astarion asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and sarcasm.
"Baldur's Gate. My people wait for me there," Gandrel replied, his tone firm.
A sharp intake of breath from Astarion sent Ishta's senses on high alert, and she could see his hand inching towards his dagger. Without hesitation, she stepped forward to block Gandrel's view, reaching behind her back with one hand and grabbing Astarion's wrist before he could make any rash moves. She could feel the tension in his muscles as he struggled against her grasp.
With a calm detachment belying her tension, she addressed Gandrel, "Only a Spawn? Pity. Not like it's a real Vampire. They are challenging, but much more rewarding to hunt. I can even recommend one to you."
"I don't know about that. I'm sure a Vampire Spawn could still rip your throat out if he felt like it," Astarion remarked irritably, despite the forced smile on his face.
Ishta could feel the frustration and fear radiating from him as he continued to try and free his hand. She reached out with her mind to their shared connection, sending a calming plea amidst the chaos.
"Stop fighting me. If you try to kill this guy in front of the others, it will only confirm their doubts about you," she urged him mentally, her tone gentle yet firm.
Slowly, his hand relaxed under her grip, and she released her hold on him, sensing a slight tremor in his fingers. She turned back to Gandrel, her mind racing for a way to defuse the situation.
"He's right, unfortunately," Gandrel confirmed with a nod, his expression grave. "As you know, Spawn are only weak when compared to their masters. During the day, we have the advantage. But at night, when they hunt? You won't find a more deadly quarry."
Shadowheart folded her arms and leaned against a nearby tree, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Astarion. "Yes, I'm sure they can creep right up on you," she suddenly interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gave him a pointed stare.
Mielikki give me strength...
Ishta shot an irritated look at Shadowheart, who met her gaze with a small smirk that only added to her frustration.
Astarion also gave the Cleric a pained look, his eyes pleading for understanding. "We've all survived so far. Let's focus on that," he said with a strained smile, his voice a mix of forced cheerfulness and underlying fear.
The Gur hunter, oblivious to the tension among them, continued speaking to Ishta. "I know you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but it would be wise to post guards at night. The threat is real," he said earnestly, his eyes locking onto hers.
Ishta nodded curtly, her face betraying nothing as she gripped the bow over her chest tightly. "Thank you for the warning. We'll be careful," she assured him.
Gandrel, his long hair falling gently around his weathered face, bowed slightly. His voice carried a gentle warmth as he spoke, "May your road be kind."
Ishta returned the gesture, her expression softening slightly as she added, "May The Lady of the Hunt watch over you."
Astarion's face twisted in disbelief, his usually charming features contorted with frustration. "Wait-that's it? We're just walking away?" he exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch as he gestured wildly.
Ishta, through gritted teeth, replied with forced pleasantry, "I said we'll be careful. Now let's go." She turned sharply on her heel, her frustration barely contained as she started to lead them back to the narrow trail that wound through the marshland.
Astarion threw his hands up in exasperation, his expression one of incredulity and annoyance. "Fine. But if this comes back to bite us, it's on your head," he snapped, his tone accusatory and filled with resentment.
Shadowheart couldn't help but smirk at the exchange, her dark eyes glinting with amusement as she watched from the sidelines. "Interesting choice of words," she murmured under her breath as she followed them.
Ishta overheard her comment and, feeling her temper flare, sent her mental message through their connection. "For the love of Silvanus, shut the hells up!"
"Make me," came the distinctly cheeky-feeling reply.
Gandrel called out a final blessing as he turned to head back the way he came. "Go in peace, my friends. I pray our paths cross again."
Astarion, irritated, muttered under his breath, "They'd better bloody not." His shoulders sagged slightly as he followed the group, his expression one of resigned annoyance.
The group walked for a little distance until Ishta gestured with a weary but determined motion towards a dry patch of grass, her hand brushing aside tufts of marsh grass as she led them towards a momentary respite. The ground itself was soft but firm under their feet, providing a comfortable place to rest. "Let's just take a break for a moment," she suggested, her voice holding a note of tension.
Astarion found a perch on top of a lichen-covered rock, rubbing his wrist ruefully from Ishta's surprisingly strong grip. He was still irritated with her for preventing him from taking care of the Gur hunter in his own way, but he begrudgingly admitted that she had probably made the right decision. The last thing he needed was to give the rest of the group a reason to view him as a threat.
Stabbing seemingly friendly and unassuming strangers was probably not the best approach to proving he could be trusted...damn it.
The swamp was alive with the buzzing of insects and the croaking of frogs, the heavy air thick with an oppressive humidity. Astarion tugged at the laces on his leather vambrace, trying to ease the irritation against his sweat-soaked skin. As he adjusted it, he became aware of a shadow falling over him.
Looking up, he saw Ishta standing in front of him with her arms crossed and a determined look on her face. He groaned internally, knowing what was coming next.
"Astarion," she began in sing-song voice, though it was laced with a warning edge. "So... There is a monster hunter after you. You specifically. By name."
Astarion shrugged nonchalantly, trying to appear unconcerned. "So it would seem," he replied with feigned casualness. "Hopefully he bumps into some Gnolls while stumbling around at night and that's the last we hear from him."
Ishta raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Uh huh...," she said skeptically, before sighing heavily and pursing her lips. "What did you do?" she asked resignedly, rubbing her temples as if already knowing the answer.
Astarion stood up defensively. "I didn't do anything!" he protested indignantly, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I was kidnapped - just like you."
He glanced back at the rest of the group, who were watching their conversation with open curiosity. Lowering his voice, he added, "It seems Cazador wants me back."
"Are you certain it was Cazador behind this?" Gale asked as he handed Lae'zel a canteen of water.
Astarion frowned, wondering how much Ishta had told the others. "It was him, I'm sure," he snapped at the Wizard before turning back to Ishta. "Only he would know to send the Gur after me," he said with a note of deep disgust in his voice.
He began pacing restlessly by the edge of the water, his eyes scanning the mist with a deep unease in his gut. How many more hunters are out there? He wondered.
Ishta cocked her head to the side as she regarded him. "You really hate the Gur, don't you?" she asked curiously. "What did they do to deserve such bigotry?"
"Bigotry!" Astarion spat, whirling around to face her with a snarl. "If you had seen what they..."
His words trailed off as he stood trembling with barely contained rage, memories from the night he was turned flooding through his mind. The image of his broken body in the gutter, bleeding out like a butchered animal. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath in an effort to regain control of his emotions.
When he opened them again, he was met with the warm, golden gaze of Ishta, her eyes holding a mix of curiosity and concern as she watched him.
Astarion's shoulders slumped and his clenched fists slowly relaxed, yet his voice remained taut with lingering anger. "The Gur are the reason I'm like this. It was a group of Gur that attacked me that night in Baldur's Gate." He kicked a loose stone into the calm water, causing ripples that disturbed a nearby lily pad.
Ishta took a step forward with a look of genuine regret on her face as she folded her arms tightly around herself. "I'm sorry... I didn't realize," she said softly.
A bitter sigh escaped Astarion's lips as he began pacing back and forth again, his boots kicking up small clouds of spores from puffball mushrooms poking through the soil.
Shadowheart, seated on a fallen log nearby, leaned forward with piercing eyes full of scepticism. "Saved you by turning you into a Vampire slave?" she asked bluntly, not missing a beat.
Astarion's mouth twisted into a bitter smile as he stopped pacing to face her. So, Ishta told them about that part then. "Well, he conveniently left out the 'slave' clause at the time," he said sarcastically.
Ishta reached out a hand in a soothing gesture, though she stayed where she was and leaned up against a moss-covered tree. "But still, you can't hold every Gur responsible for what happened to you."
Astarion's eyes blazed with defiance as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I think you'll find I can. And there's nothing your 'bleeding heart' can do to change my mind," he retorted coldly, a sneer curling in the corner of his mouth.
Gale adjusted his alchemy bag and checked his Spellbook before rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So why send one after you now? To remind you of that night?"
Suspicion darkened Astarion's eyes as he resumed pacing. "Perhaps. He probably thought it was funny. But more likely, he's trying to send me a message."
Lae'zel, who was busy sharpening her longsword with a whetstone, glanced up with a scornful look. "I wonder if the fool even suspects he's working for a Vampire Lord."
Astarion let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing eerily in the swamp. "Probably not. Cazador likely paid someone to pay someone to call in a favour, and here we are. He doesn't do simple plans. Not if he has a complex one that pits a dozen enemies against each other. No, this hunter is a message. Cazador's letting me know that even out here, he can get to me."
Ishta's brow furrowed with confusion as she pushed off the tree and took a step closer. "But why capture you? Why not just kill you?"
Astarion's voice dropped to a grim whisper as he stared into the murky water. "Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways. It wouldn't be the first time. Or maybe he thinks death is too good for me."
Gale's voice was calm as he packed away his Spellbook, trying to inject some reassurance into his words. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you, Astarion. Ishta has made it very clear that you are a valuable member of our party. So - pointed jabs aside - your safety is assured for however long you choose to remain with us... so long as you keep your fangs to yourself of course," he added with a wry chuckle.
Astarion shook his head, his eyes haunted as he turned to face them. "Safe? You think I'm safe? Do you have any idea of the power a Vampire Lord possesses?" His voice grew more intense, each word dripping with fear and frustration. "He can shift forms at will; turn into mist; summon wolves with a flick of his hand; shrug off blows like they're nothing. He could stroll into our camp tonight and easily kill you with his bare hands. And believe me, death would be a mercy compared to what he's capable of."
Ishta walked over to stand beside him and asked gently, "All right. What do you suggest we do then?"
Astarion let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he gazed at the ground in contemplation."First, we have to - uh..."
His mind went blank as he struggled to come up with a plan; being asked for his opinion was not something he was accustomed to.
"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 on sight," he finally said with a hint of resignation in his tone. Then instantly regretted his words as he saw Ishta's lips curl into a quizzical smile. He had forgotten about that important little detail.
"Present company excepted, of course..." she stated with a hint of amusement in her voice.
A reluctant smile tugged at Astarion's lips as he glanced at her. "Naturally... by the way, what was all that business back there? That Gur was practically fawning over you."
Ishta waved a dismissive hand, turning away. "It was long ago, not worth mentioning. However, I can tell you that I do have... some experience in hunting Vampires."
She cast a serious gaze back at him. "They are not invincible. We could defeat him," she declared confidently, gesturing to the rest of the group. "In fact, I could probably take him on alone if none of you are up for it."
A mix of frustration and sadness washed over Astarion as he stared at her dejectedly. While he had no doubt she was skilled enough to hold her own, she was a fool to view Cazador as just another hunt.
"You don't understand. You don't know him." he whispered, his gaze falling to the ground as dark memories too painful to share flooded his mind.
The group fell into a solemn silence as the chorus of sounds from the depressing landscape continued around them, oblivious to Astarion's inner turmoil.
As the party approached the village of Moonhaven, the oppressive atmosphere of the swamp was replaced by a chilling stillness. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, ominous shadows across the road. The stone bridge leading into the village was partially blocked by broken wagons and carts, their wooden frames splintered and rotting and contents strewn haphazardly on the ground.
Beyond the bridge, the once lively village now appeared desolate and eerie, with no signs of life except for the occasional rustle of leaves or caw of a distant bird.
Mèirleach swooped down from the sky and landed gracefully on one of the broken carts, his feathers ruffling in a gentle breeze. He tilted his head to get a better look at something in the distance, his keen eyes scanning the area.
"Three humans ahead. Bodies too," he communicated telepathically to Ishta, who relayed the information to the rest of the group.
As they drew nearer, the scene that met their eyes was a gruesome one. The ground in front of the main gates was littered with the bodies of goblins, humans, and elves, their lifeless forms twisted in unnatural poses. Blood pooled around them, creating a macabre painting on the churned up ground.
Amidst this disturbing sight were three more humans clad in padded and plate armor. They moved among the corpses with an air of grim determination, their faces set in hardened expressions. One of them knelt beside a body with its skull caved in, his shoulders slumped in weary resignation.
Ishta let out a small groan as this figure rose and turned to face them, revealing a familiar scowling face - Aradin. His voice was rough and laced with bitterness as he sneered at Ishta.
"Well, look who it is," he drawled, his lips curling in disdain. "Thought you were busy with the foulbloods in Halsin's grove. Come by to take another swing at me? Sucker-punching strangers - that's your bit, right?"
Gale leaned towards Shadowheart, his voice a low murmur. "Oh dear... It might be wise to have a healing spell on standby."
Shadowheart's eyes gleamed with amusement as she whispered back, "Who for? His chin or her knuckles?"
Ishta shot them both a withering glare, but couldn't help but smile when they immediately feigned innocence. She stepped forward, her movements deliberate and controlled, as she faced the angry human.
"Hello again, Aradin. Still sore about that? You did have it coming, you know, calling Zevlor a foulblood," she said, her tone a mix of challenge and amusement.
Aradin's eyes flashed with anger as he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Wasn't any of your business, though, was it?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Didn't think this contract could go any worse. Then you showed up."
Trying to lessen the tension, Ishta tilted her head and calmly asked, "What was the contract?"
Aradin gestured towards the bodies surrounding them, his face hardening even more. "The kind that leaves half your crew dead. There's a Wizard in Baldur's Gate that'll pay gobloads for a relic supposedly buried round these parts. But gold ain't any use if you're too cold to spend it."
Astarion stepped forward eagerly, his curiosity piqued. "Let's say I'm interested in that gold. Where would I find this relic?"
Growing impatient, Ishta cut in sharply. "That can wait. I heard that Halsin, leader of the Druids, accompanied your group."
Aradin's face darkened as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, a defensive stance that mirrored the tension in his voice. "As soon as he heard we had a contract to find that Nightsong relic, he was more eager than a hound in heat. When the goblins jumped us in the temple, most of my crew scarpered, just like I taught 'em to. The old codger didn't."
Ishta's eyes blazed with anger and she stepped closer to Aradin, her fists clenched at her sides. "And you just left him to die?" she seethed.
Aradin, unapologetically defiant, retorted, "Yeah, and I'd do the same again. He weren't my responsibility. If you want to play the hero, go ask the goblins nicely, and maybe they'll give you whatever's left of him."
A heavy silence hung over them as Ishta's anger radiated off her in waves and Aradin visibly shrunk under her gaze. He instinctively took a step back and reached for his sword.
"Hand over that contract - maybe we'll get the relic and save the druid," Gale interjected smoothly, stepping up beside Ishta and placing a warning hand on her arm.
Aradin hesitated for a moment before relenting and reaching into his belt pouch. He tossed a folded square of paper at their feet with a bitter laugh. "Be my guest, if you feel like dying. I'm just glad to be rid of the bloody thing. Happy hunting."
He turned away with tense shoulders and signaled for his companions to follow him.
Once they were out of earshot, Ishta let out a frustrated sigh and gave Gale an appreciative nod. "Thank you for stepping in. I was ready to start something and things could have turned ugly back there," she said with relief evident in her voice.
Astarion, who had been silently observing the exchange, couldn't resist chiming in. "Why did you have to spoil all the fun, Gale?" He pouted before picking up the contract and unfolding it with interest. "I was hoping for a bit of excitement."
Ishta rolled her eyes at his comment but he ignored her as his eyes scanned the page.
"Not much to go on. Apparently there is a hidden underground section to the temple, but no indication as to where the entrance might be," he remarked disappointedly.
Ishta called out to Mèirleach and he obediently flew up onto her outstretched arm. "Go scout out the village and report back to me," she commanded.
As they waited for the Raven to return, Ishta knelt down and began examining the bodies. She suspected that Aradin and his crew would have already looted anything valuable from their fallen friends, so she focused on the Goblins instead. Aside from a few loose coins, one of them carried a roll of cured animal skin with a crude drawing depicting three stick figures: a Goblin with sparks in its hands, a square humanoid figure, and what appeared to be an elf- each wearing a simple crown.
Tucking the drawing away in her bag for safekeeping, Ishta's attention was quickly brought back as Mèirleach returned and landed on her shoulder. He tugged urgently on her hair with his beak, causing her to wince. "Goblins hiding on top of roofs," he informed her.
"So there's an ambush waiting for us inside the village," Ishta stated thoughtfully as she patiently freed her hair from the Raven's grip.
The fact that these Goblins appeared to be guarding the only route that led to the Selunite temple was no coincidence. Ishta recalled Netty's theory and decided that now was as good a time as any to put it to test.
"Everyone stay here. I'm going to have a little chat with the Goblins," she announced confidently.
"I'm not sure that's the wisest course of action," Gale warned hesitantly, "You did say they're waiting for us...and I highly doubt it's for a friendly conversation over a steaming cup of tea."
"Coffee is more my drink," Ishta quipped, before adding in a more serious tone, "Goblins are cunning and cruel little creatures. If I walk into their trap alone, they won't be able to resist boasting about my stupidity and trying to scare me before attacking. That will give me a chance to try out the tadpole on them. If they're part of this Absolute cult, they should recognize me as one of their own."
"And if it doesn't work?" Shadowheart asked skeptically.
Ishta shrugged and grinned at Astarion, responding, "Then I guess you'll get your excitement after all."
He returned her look with an eager grin of anticipation and she turned back to the group. "It's better that we find out now if we can infiltrate these raiders, rather than at the temple where the odds will be stacked against us," she pointed out practically.
"Your strategy is surprisingly sound," Lae'zel commented with a hint of approval. She then added distanfully, "I do not like using deception to defeat my foes; I prefer to face them head on. However if you insist on this course of action, then as you say, it is wise to test your plan here."
"Thank you Lae'zel...that may be the nicest thing you've said to me all week." Ishta smiled warmly at the Gith warrior and was rewarded with a slightly embarrassed sounding "Chk" as she turned her head away from Ishta's gaze.
Chuckling softly to herself, Ishta took a deep breath and started marching resolutely towards the village gates. Taking one last look over her shoulder, she called out with a wide grin, "If I come running back out in five minutes with my tail between my legs, do me a favour and kill whatever's chasing me."