The moon hung low, its pale light spilling across the jagged peaks of the mountain pass like a silvery quilt. Astarion moved through the rocky terrain with the quiet grace of a shadow, his steps careful but confident as he followed the faint tracks winding between the stones. The mountain goats had been a lucky find - a delicate scatter of hoofprints in the dirt leading deeper into the valley. His senses sharpened as he went, every shift of wind and rustle of leaves drawing his attention.
He'd taken these nocturnal hunts as an opportunity to test himself. Listening to Ashara's lessons with Mirkon had proven unexpectedly fruitful, her tips on tracking prey lodged firmly in his mind. While the boy asked endless questions, Astarion had absorbed the knowledge in silence, weaving it into his own instinctual understanding of predators and prey. Tonight, he intended to put that knowledge to use.
The tracks led him to a small valley nestled between towering cliffs. The air was still here, the scent of wild grasses mingling with the faint musk of animals. In the cover of some low, dense bushes, a small herd of mountain goats lay curled together, their forms blending into the shadows. Astarion's lips parted in a quiet exhale of anticipation, his muscles coiling like a spring as he prepared to pounce. He imagined the thrill of the chase, the satisfying rush of warm blood on his tongue.
Then, the silence shattered.
A blur of motion lunged from the shadows, and a deafening bleat of distress erupted as a massive form snatched one of the goats. The rest of the herd sprang to life, scattering in a chaotic flurry of hooves and terrified cries, disappearing into the rocky wilderness like smoke in the wind.
Astarion froze mid-step, his body tense as his eyes locked on the predator before him. It took him only a second to recognize the hulking figure tearing into the goat. Relief surged through him, immediately followed by irritation.
"Are you following me?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the stillness.
A low chuckle echoed from behind a nearby rock, followed by a familiar voice. "Not unless you're a goat."
Ashara stepped into the moonlight, her silhouette framed by the pale glow. She held her bow loosely in one hand, her sapphire eyes catching the light as she approached. Astarion's annoyance deepened as she stopped beside Onyx, who was now thoroughly dismantling the unfortunate goat, his powerful jaws crunching through flesh and bone with ease.
Astarion's skin prickled at the sound, and he folded his arms, glaring at the wolf. "You could've at least let me feed before you wasted all that blood."
Onyx raised his muzzle, dark and dripping with gore, and regarded Astarion with a calm that bordered on infuriating. "Wouldn't you prefer to drink from a well-fed wolf?"
Astarion scoffed, though he couldn't entirely deny the logic. "I would... but I still want to experience the thrill of a hunt every now and then. I don't want to grow complacent."
Ashara walked up to him, her expression neutral but her lips twitching with suppressed amusement as she shrugged. "Next goat we find, I promise it's yours."
Astarion gestured toward the empty valley with an exaggerated sweep of his hand. "Any prey will be half a mile away now, thanks to all that racket."
Onyx returned to his meal, the sound of bones crunching filling the air as he devoured every last scrap. When he finished, he licked his chops and padded over to them. "Then we travel half a mile to find it," he said simply.
Astarion groaned, the dramatic sound echoing faintly off the cliffs. "Have fun with that. I've been out here nearly all night and now have nothing to show for it. I'm heading back to camp - and to bed."
He turned sharply on his heel, his boots scraping against the stones as he stalked away. The uneven terrain tugged at his legs, the strain of the night beginning to wear on him.
Astarion so focused on his own irritation that it took him several moments to notice the soft thud of paws alongside him. Glancing around, he found Onyx walking beside him, his massive form moving with deceptive silence.
His sharp gaze traveled upward, and he saw Ashara perched atop the wolf's broad back, looking down at him with a faint smile.
"You'll get there quicker on wolfback," she remarked, the challenge in her tone unmistakable.
Astarion halted, his irritation warring with exhaustion. Part of him bristled at the idea of accepting their help after they'd ruined his hunt, but another part - his aching feet, specifically - reminded him of the rocky ground he still had to navigate. Onyx seemed to sense his hesitation and crouched low, his golden eyes watching Astarion expectantly.
With a reluctant sigh, Astarion muttered, "Fine," and swung himself onto Onyx's back as the wolf rose and set off at an easy lope.
The ride back to camp was quieter than Astarion would have liked. The rhythmic thud of Onyx's paws against the rocky ground echoed in his ears, a dull counterpoint to the thoughts churning in his mind. The stars above blinked coldly, indifferent to his turmoil, and the chill of the mountain air only deepened the unease coiled in his chest.
He had been more on edge with each day that passed. Memories from the recent past kept bubbling to the surface - memories of the last time he'd traveled with a group. He kept holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable moment when everything fell apart. When he was cast out. Betrayed.
No matter how genuine or sincere Ashara seemed, Astarion couldn't shake the fear that her trust in him was fragile. The others could influence her, convince her that he had no worth, no value. He could see it in the way she listened so attentively to Zevlor's Hellrider tales or how she leaned in with fascination as Vaarl spun intricate stories of Githyanki culture and his precious Prince Orpheus. Even Karlach, despite her rough edges, commanded respect with her indomitable spirit and easy laughter.
And then there was him. What could he possibly offer her that the others couldn't? His charm? His wit? Those felt like thin veneers that would crack under scrutiny. He'd spent so long surviving through manipulation that the idea of being truly needed seemed laughable.
His stomach churned as a familiar idea crept unbidden into his mind, one that left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was still one thing he could offer her that none of the others could - his body. The thought sent a wave of nausea crashing through him, but the fear of abandonment was more potent than his disgust. Better to sacrifice himself than face rejection again.
A flicker of light broke through the trees ahead, mercifully dragging him from his dark musings. The campfire. Relief mingled with a simmering frustration; the others were there, waiting to remind him of how little he belonged. But before he could descend further into his spiraling thoughts, a deafening roar shattered the quiet, followed by Karlach's unmistakable bellow - a battle cry that tore through the night like a thunderclap.
Astarion instinctively clung to Ashara as Onyx surged forward, his powerful form weaving through the uneven terrain with alarming speed. The camp came into view in a flash of firelight and chaos.
The flames of Karlach's infernal engine bathed the scene in a hellish glow, her massive axe carving arcs through the air as she faced down an enormous cave bear. Its fur bristled with rage, and its claws raked the ground as it charged. Zevlor and Vaarl stood to one side, shielding a wide-eyed Mirkon, their crossbows loosing bolts that thudded into the bear's dense hide with little effect.
Ashara and Astarion leapt off Onyx the moment the wolf skidded to a halt. Astarion's eyes darted around, taking in the scene with a growing sense of alarm. He saw Karlach leap forward, only for the bear's massive paw to strike her mid-charge. She flew through the air, a streak of fire, and hit the ground hard with a grunt of pain.
Onyx snarled, his body a grey blur as he lunged at the bear, the two colossal predators colliding in a violent tangle of claws and fangs. Astarion's sharp eyes caught the glint of blood spraying across the firelit camp as the two creatures tore into each other with primal ferocity.
Ashara sprinted to Karlach, ignoring the searing heat of her engine as she hauled the Tiefling to her feet. Astarion saw her wince, her skin blistering where it met Karlach's molten flesh, but she didn't falter. She dragged Karlach back toward the group, depositing her beside Zevlor and Vaarl before turning to assess the chaos.
Astarion, still trying to process everything, shouted, "What in the sweet hells is going on here?!"
Karlach wiped blood from her mouth and shot him a glare. "What's it bloody look like, mate? This damned bear just up and attacked us out of nowhere!"
Astarion turned his gaze to the clash of predators, watching as Onyx and the bear fought like demons for supremacy. Onyx was taking a beating, but the bear was faltering, its movements sluggish as crimson streaks matted its fur.
In a burst of speed, Onyx finally lunged underneath the bears head, clamping his jaws around the it's throat, and shook violently. A sickening crack echoed through the camp, and the beast's massive body collapsed, lifeless.
Onyx released the corpse and backed away, his flanks heaving with each labored breath. One of his ears hung ragged, blood trickling down its length.
Astarion opened his mouth to comment, but his words caught in his throat as a strange light swirled around the bear's corpse. Green and gold tendrils of energy wrapped around the body, distorting its form. The massive shape shimmered, shrinking and reforming before their eyes.
An elf emerged from the glow, tall and muscular, clad in druidic armor adorned with leaves and engraved bark. His scarred face was twisted with fury, his piercing eyes blazing as he clutched at his wounds. "Look at you," he spat, his voice like thunder. "Camping amidst the Oak Father's creations, as if you hadn't just defiled his most sacred ground."
Ashara stepped forward, her posture calm but wary. "Who are you? Why did you attack us?"
The druid drew himself to his full and impressive height, his presence commanding despite his injuries. "I am Halsin, First Druid of the Emerald Grove - a place that stood for generations. It was our link to Silvanus. Now it's nothing but blood and ashes, thanks to you. I am here to visit nature's fury upon you."
Ashara's brow furrowed, her confusion evident. "I thought Silvanus would be happy I avenged the grove."
Astarion's mind raced, pieces clicking into place. "I think he may be confusing us with someone else," he called out, his tone sharp. "Specifically, a back-stabbing dragonborn someone else."
Ashara stepped closer, her hands raised in a gesture of peace. "We had nothing to do with the attack on the grove."
"Lies!" Halsin bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at Karlach. "This one was there, with the others who found me imprisoned in the goblin camp and promised to aid me." His voice grew bitter as he addressed her directly. "When I met you, I thought we were destined to be allies. But you made that impossible."
Karlach stared at him, shock and anger flashing in her eyes. Astarion glanced between them, his mind already piecing together the implications. This confrontation was far from over.
The druid began to chant, his voice weaving ancient words of power. Thorny vines erupted from the ground around his feet, twisting and writhing as they shot toward Ashara like a nest of vipers. Their jagged thorns gleamed wickedly in the campfire's flickering glow. Astarion barely had time to react before Onyx roared and leapt into their path, shielding Ashara with his massive body.
The vines coiled around the wolf's legs and torso, their barbs slicing into his flesh with a sickening sound. Onyx snarled in pain, his golden eyes blazing as the thorns pierced deep, crimson staining his fur.
Ashara's scream pierced the air, raw and desperate. "Onyx!" She dropped to her knees, her fingers digging into the soil. Her face was a mask of determination, her eyes burning with resolve. The earth beneath Astarion's feet shuddered, and he gasped as a pulse of energy rippled outward, surging through the ground like an invisible tide.
The terrain responded to her touch. Rocks burst upward, jagged and sharp, as though the mountain itself were springing to her defense. Halsin's chanting faltered as he was forced to leap aside, rolling across the dirt to avoid being impaled. His expression was a mixture of shock and fury, his hands glowing with emerald light as he prepared another spell.
Astarion, heart pounding, stepped forward, his voice sharp and desperate. "Look, will you just calm down for a moment and let us explain?!"
Halsin's glare was the only answer he received before the druid unleashed another attack, a barrage of needle-sharp thorns that streaked through the air like a deadly hailstorm. Astarion yelped and threw himself behind the nearest rock, the sharp projectiles embedding themselves in the stone with alarming force.
He crouched low, his breath coming in quick gasps. "All right," he muttered to himself, brushing dirt from his jerkin, "so much for diplomacy."
Peering around the edge of his cover, Astarion's eyes widened at the sight of Onyx. The vines wrapped around the wolf were beginning to shimmer, an icy frost spreading along their lengths. With a guttural roar, Onyx flexed his massive frame and shattered the vines into a storm of frozen shards. The fragments sprayed outward, glinting like glass in the firelight. Astarion ducked just in time to avoid being hit, the sharp edges whistling past his ears.
The wolf wasted no time, bounding toward Halsin with terrifying speed. The druid turned, his hands already moving to cast another spell, but Onyx was faster. The wolf barreled into him, his sheer weight and momentum knocking Halsin off his feet and slamming him into the ground.
Pinned beneath Onyx's immense weight, Halsin thrashed wildly, but the wolf's massive paws pressed down on his arms, pinning them in place. Onyx's snarls filled the gorge, his fangs bared just inches from the druid's face.
"No!" Ashara's voice rang out, firm and commanding. She stepped forward, her hands still glowing faintly from the energy she had channeled into the earth. "Don't kill him!"
Onyx didn't move, his golden eyes locked on Halsin's, blazing with unspoken warning. "I wasn't planning to," the wolf growled, his voice low and resonant. "But I needed to restrain him."
Halsin continued to struggle, his movements frantic but ultimately futile. Without the use of his hands, he was unable to summon the power for anything beyond minor spells. His eyes burned with fury, though there was a flicker of fear beneath the surface.
Astarion stepped out from behind his cover, brushing fragments of ice from his shoulder with exaggerated care. "Well, this has been quite the spectacle," he remarked dryly, his sharp gaze flicking between Onyx and the pinned druid. "Now that we've reached a stalemate, might we consider having an actual conversation?"
Halsin's jaw clenched, his hazel eyes blazing with fury, but he didn't respond. Astarion couldn't tell whether it was anger, fear, or pride that held his tongue, but he suspected it was a toxic mixture of all three.
Ashara approached cautiously, her palms outstretched in a gesture of peace. Her voice softened, though it trembled with urgency. "Halsin, we don't want to hurt you. We're not your enemies. Let us explain what's really happening."
Halsin's struggle slowed, his gaze shifting from Onyx's snarling face to Ashara's imploring one. His breathing was labored, and the anger in his expression dimmed, replaced by wariness. The tension in the air was palpable, a taut thread ready to snap, but Ashara's calm presence seemed to hold it together.
"Please," she said softly, "just listen."
Halsin's body eased, the tension in his shoulders softening as the rigid lines of his face melted into something less severe. His piercing gaze moved from one member of the group to the next before he nodded, his voice a low rumble. "Very well."
Karlach stepped forward, the flames of her engine dimming to a low ember as she faced the druid. Her expression was steady, but her voice carried the weight of bitterness and regret. "It's true, I was there with the others. I genuinely thought we were there to rescue you, but I guess Durge decided you were useless when he found out you couldn't cure us."
Her jaw tightened, and she took another step closer, her boots crunching against the rocky ground. "He made a deal with the drow leader. Told me he was just stringing her along to lure her to the grove where we'd have the upper hand. And like a wet-eared kid, I believed him. Right up until the moment he opened the gate and let the goblins swarm over the grove like rats."
Karlach's fist clenched at her sides, her flames flickering faintly before she quelled them. She took another step closer, her eyes locking with Halsin's. "I fought tooth and nail to protect the people in the grove and wound up with this for my trouble." She raised her prosthetic arm, the spike glinting in the firelight.
Halsin's eyes flicked to the metallic limb, his gaze softening as understanding dawned. When Karlach added, "Most weren't as lucky," his expression darkened with the weight of shared loss.
Halsin's lips parted as though to speak, but Zevlor stepped forward, his presence calm and commanding. "You know me, Master Halsin," he began, inclining his head respectfully. "You offered your grove as a sanctuary for my people, something I will be forever grateful for. Karlach speaks the truth. She turned against those who betrayed you - betrayed us. And these two here" - he gestured to Ashara and Astarion - "rescued the child and I from the goblin's clutches. They avenged the destruction of the grove and its people by wiping out the invaders."
Halsin's body seemed to deflate entirely as he took in their words, the rage in his features melting into something softer, tinged with grief and shame. His eyes lingered on Karlach, and he inclined his head. "I have been on the dragonborn's trail for days now, but I lost his party somewhere in this pass. When I came across your camp and saw you, I allowed my grief and rage to overwhelm me. Please, forgive me."
Karlach shrugged, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It's all good. I'd have reacted the same way."
A voice piped up from the back, cutting through the gravity of the exchange. "Are we still fighting him, or is that it?" Vaarl's tone was laced with confusion, his expression a mixture of caution and curiosity.
Ashara turned her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice. "That's up to him, I guess."
Halsin's attention shifted to Ashara, who stood with her hand resting lightly on Onyx's flank. "You can tell your beast to release me," he said evenly. "I no longer mean you any harm."
Ashara gave Onyx a subtle nod, and the wolf huffed, stepping back and freeing Halsin's arms. The druid rose slowly, brushing dirt from his armor before bowing deeply. "Allow me to make amends for my rash actions."
He approached Onyx, his movements slow and deliberate as he raised a hand toward the wolf's torn ear. Onyx growled low in his throat but stayed still, his golden eyes fixed on the druid. Halsin murmured, "Te Curo." A gentle green light enveloped the torn flesh, knitting it back together with an almost imperceptible hum.
Onyx flicked his ear, testing it, and grumbled in what Astarion could only interpret as approval.
Halsin turned to Karlach next, his gaze falling on the claw marks raking across her shoulder. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the injury.
Karlach hesitated for only a moment before nodding, rolling her shoulder toward him. Halsin hovered his hands over the wound, his voice low as he chanted another healing incantation. The claw marks began to close, the raw skin smoothing until it was as though the injury had never existed.
Once finished, Halsin placed a hand over his own chest and closed his eyes. A faint green glow radiated outward as he mended his wounds. When the light faded, he looked at them once more, his tone grave but sincere.
"You would have been well within your rights to kill me after I attacked you without cause," he said solemnly. "I am grateful for your restraint, and will forever be in your debt."
He bowed deeply, the gesture one of genuine contrition. When he straightened, his voice was steady but resolute. "Now, I must continue on my way."
Astarion tilted his head, a bemused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Don't tell me you're still going after the bastard," he drawled, his voice laced with incredulity. "I would think nearly being mauled to death by a wolf might give you pause."
Halsin turned to him, his expression unreadable but resolute. "I am. He must answer for his crimes."
Astarion clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Well, that's a rather noble death wish, isn't it? I've seen his party fight. Alone, you'll be ripped to shreds faster than Onyx can tear through a goat."
The tension hung in the air, taut as a bowstring. Ashara stepped forward. "If Durge came through here, then it's a safe bet we're all heading in the same direction: Moonrise Towers. You are welcome to join us if you want."
Astarion felt a prickle of alarm skitter down his spine at her words, sharp as the thorns that had nearly skewered him earlier. He stepped forward, his expression incredulous. "Now hold on a minute. He was ready to tear us to pieces less than five minutes ago, and now you're offering him a seat by the fire? Your survival instincts truly leave a lot to be desired."
His voice carried a sharp edge of mockery, but underneath it was an undercurrent of genuine unease. The group had grown too large already for his liking, and the thought of another noble crusader joining their ranks made his stomach churn.
Ashara's gaze flicked to him, her brow lifting in mild amusement, but it was Onyx who turned to address him. The wolf's golden eyes gleamed, his deep voice cutting through Astarion's protest like a blade. "You are currently enjoying our protection because of her 'survival instincts', Astarion. You held a dagger to her throat, and yet here you are, alive and well."
Astarion opened his mouth to respond but faltered, his usual sharp retorts drying up under Onyx's unwavering stare. The truth of the wolf's words stung more than he cared to admit. He clicked his tongue and fell silent, his arms crossing defensively as he cast his gaze toward the ground.
Halsin's voice, calm and unassuming, filled the void. "I do not wish to be a burden to you," he said, his tone laced with quiet sincerity. "My quest for vengeance is my own. However, if Moonrise Towers is your destination, then allow me to pass on what knowledge I have of that place."
Ashara gestured toward the campfire. "Then come join us by the fire," she said, her eyes flicking to Astarion in a silent challenge.
As Halsin moved toward the fire, Onyx's voice rumbled behind him. "There is one more thing you can do for us, Halsin."
The druid turned, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "What is it?"
Onyx's gaze was steady. "You have a reputation as an experienced healer. Would you be willing to assist me in removing an Illithid tadpole from a flaming tiefling?"
For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Halsin stared, his expression shifting from surprise to intrigue.
"You are no druid, and yet you are also not a beast, are you?" he asked, his voice tinged with wonder.
Onyx's lips pulled back in what might have been a grin - or a warning. "No."
Halsin's thoughtful expression softened further as he addressed Onyx. "I will not be able to help you until after I have rested. Come morning, though, I would be curious to see what you have in mind. I have been researching ways to cure this infection and would be glad to aid you in any way I can."
Before anyone else could respond, Karlach's eyes lit up with excitement. "Does this mean surgery's back on the table?" she asked, her voice a mixture of hope and anticipation.
Onyx turned to her, his golden gaze steady, his voice deadpan. "We don't have a table. You'll have to settle for a flat rock."
Karlach barked a laugh and grabbed the wolf's massive head, her broad hand ruffling the thick fur between his ears with mock exasperation. "You know what I mean, furball," she retorted, her grin wide and infectious.
Onyx huffed, shaking his head free from her grasp, though there was an unmistakable glimmer of amusement in his eyes. The exchange seemed to lighten the tension lingering in the camp, the oppressive weight of earlier conflict finally giving way to a tentative truce.
