Final Preparations

We set out toward the Grove’s outer gate, planning a brief stop at the circle on the way. From camp we could already hear the deep thrumming—its rhythm slow and heavy—but as we drew closer, it didn’t grow louder so much as deeper, the sound sinking beneath the skin until it became a vibration through the soil and into our bones, a low rhythm that pulsed beneath our boots and crawled through my chest like a second heartbeat.

When it came into view the sight stole the breath from my throat. The Idol’s shape remained the same, yet its essence had utterly transformed. The vines that once glowed green now shimmered violet, pulsing with a deep bass. Each beat wasn’t sound—it was sensation, brushing against skin, curling through thought. The air around it shimmered with invisible heat, heavy and almost seductive.

The closer we walked, the stronger the pulses grew. By the time we reached the stone circle, my blood felt hot, my heart syncing with the strange rhythm. Around the Idol, nearly two dozen druids stood in a semicircle. Their faces were serene, their eyes glowing faintly violet. Their smiles were ecstatic—too bright and a little too hungry—as they bowed respectfully to us when we approached.

One stepped forward, younger than the rest, and lit from within with the same eerie energy. “The fools have locked themselves in the Sanctum,” he said, voice sharp with disdain. “They’d rather hide behind stone than face the changes. Cowards, all of them.” He looked to me and grinned. “But we? We are free. You showed us how.”

I tilted my head. “Free, huh? That's one way of saying it."

He lifted his arm to the skies. “Look.” The rest mirrored him instantly, their movements eerie in their unity. “Release!”

A storm of scarlet light erupted. Dozens of eldritch blasts shot into the sky—wild, uncoordinated, but powerful. The energy scorched the air, leaving behind the scent of ozone and something metallic.

When the air stilled again, he turned back to me, his grin manic. “We’ve been blessed! Every one of us. Power in our blood, passion in our hearts! We will fight with you and live free—unbound by the rules of old!”

The others cheered, voices melding into a chant that made my ears ring.

I blinked. “Right,” I said flatly. “See you at the gate.”

As I turned to leave, I caught the glances of my companions. Lae’zel looked on with silent approval, respecting strength in any form.

Kagha was practically glowing, pride shimmering in her eyes seeing other druids sharing her new path.

Shadowheart’s brow furrowed, but ultimately shrugged at the display.

"That was more a show than a ceremony—let’s just hope they can actually aim those blasts when it matters"

Karlach crossed her arms, watching the druids with a strange mix of curiosity and unease. “They’re a bit creepy,” she admitted, “but I get it. That kind of freedom... I could get behind that” She gave me a sidelong grin, though her voice softened near the end. “You better save some energy for later, this looks like one wild afterparty.”

[Karlach: Corruption +1]

Thank the gods she was warming up “All right, team,” I said, glancing over the group with a faint grin. “Twenty druids with eldritch firepower—it’s not perfect, but I’ll take it.”

We pressed on. The Idol’s pulse faded behind us, but its energy clung to the air. The Grove itself seemed changed—no longer calm, but trembling with life that felt half-wild, half wrong.

We ventured further, following the path to the caves where the tieflings had taken temporary refuge. Above us, a few crows had joined the native songbirds, testing their voices in the riot of sound, their songs sharp and shrill—mating calls that didn’t belong at this time nor place. The corruption seemingly coaxing the first new visitors to the Grove.

As if matching the noise above Karlach loudly spoke up, impatient. “So what are your plans for Ethel?”

I motioned for the girls to stop. “All right, listen up. We’ll use Ethel’s help during the fight—nothing more. Once the fight is over, we take her down. Fast and clean. She’s a hag, so expect trickery: hold person, ray of sickness, invisibility, maybe even a blink spell to vanish and strike again. If she splits into copies, hit quick, not hard—find the one that bleeds and finish it. Those four men around her? Redcaps—tough, mean little things, but not the brightest. Ignore them until she’s down, and keep your distance; they hit hard when they get close. She’ll throw every cursed potion she’s brewed at us, so stay light on your feet and carry spare water in case she hits you with anything sticky. Got it?”

The girls stared at me in surprise.

Lae’zel nodded, looking impressed at the efficiency.

[Lae'zel: Approval +1]

Kagha beamed, clearly proud of what she saw as my command of dark pragmatism.

Shadowheart arched a brow, incredulous. “That’s the kind of calculation running through your head every fight? No wonder you always have a trick up your sleeve.”

Karlach grinned wide, the fire in her eyes returning. “That’s what I like to hear, soldier.” For a heartbeat, the tension between us—everything unspoken, the doubt and hurt—eased. Her grin turned warm, genuine, the kind that made me feel lighter, like a weight had eased off my chest. “Guess I can trust you to keep the runts alive after all.” She gave a laugh, bright and fierce. “So when we take her down—can I be the one to knock her out? Please?”

[Karlach: Approval +8][Karlach: Corruption +1]

_“Well, that’s the thing—when she’s on her last leg, she’ll try to bargain for her life. And that is where we want her. I’ve got an ace up my sleeve—a punishment worse than **** if she refuses, and an offer I know she wants, one that keeps everyone else unharmed." _The girls stared back at me with mixed belief. Kagha nodded along with every word like I was preaching gospel, Lae’zel lazily nodded, agreeing mostly by default. Shadowheart frowned, skeptical but listening, her expression couldn't hide her curiosity. Karlach, meanwhile, crossed her arms with a huff, clearly not a fan of striking another deal with the monster.

I turned toward her and added with a grin, “..And if it fails, you get to cut off her head.”

Karlach’s grin flashed wide. “Woohoo!" The sound of her yell rang out through the trees sending a small **** of crows flying from the branches above. "I’m not saying I hope your grand peace plan fails, soldier, but I’m also not saying that I don’t.”

Kagha’s lips parted, clearly offended—until she saw me laugh too. Then even she smiled, the tension slipping away for a brief, human moment before the weight of what was coming settled back on us.

We passed under the shadowed roots near the abandoned merchant stalls. The market smelled faintly of burnt food and iron.

Karlach pointed toward a hole in the cavern roof where a few horns peeked out—small, curved, unmistakably tiefling. “The tunnels lead to the top,” she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Those are the ones we filled yesterday. The codeword’s Fast hands Arabella’s idea. Say it, and stones rain from the ceiling.”

“Nice touch.” I said with a nod.

We pressed forward to the gate, where the tieflings had gathered together with the druid converts. Makeshift armor glinted dully, scavenged weapons gleamed under the midday sun. Children scurried between the adults, carrying arrows and buckets of water. Everyone was quiet in that heavy, shared way that comes before an un-even fight.

Zevlor found me before I saw him. “Brave hero!” he called as if to wake the gods themselves. He clapped my shoulder hard enough to make me wince. “You’ve returned! We stand ready. But… the druids? We've only seen a few handfuls."

“There’s been a change. The Grove’s magic is... different now. Most of the druids lost their connection, but a few remain. They’ll fight with us.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd—first confusion, then anger, and beneath it all, a thread of fear. Some tieflings argued under their breath, others looked toward the gate as if weighing escape. A few shouted out, demanding to know why they should risk their lives for the druids who had tried to cast them out the day before. The bitterness in their voices cut sharp through the air, and for a moment it seemed the unity we’d built might splinter right there in front of us. Before the panic could manifest, Zevlor stepped forward, his voice rising above the noise. “We will not falter!” he roared.

He straightened his back, his voice booming with conviction. “These brave souls have already saved our lives once. Are we not ashamed to hesitate now?” His words cut through the murmurs like a blade. “The druids offered us shelter when we had none, food when we starved, and a place to rest when the world hunted us. Whatever their faults, they gave us sanctuary. Now it’s our turn to repay that mercy—and to show them unity.”

The tieflings quieted, their anger melting into resolve. One by one, heads began to nod. Then the crowd rumbled in agreement, the spark of courage rekindled among them.

I cleared my throat. “And we’ve secured one more ally.”

Right on cue, a raspy, sing-song voice floated from the crowd. “Oh, my sweetlings, how brave you all look!” Auntie Ethel glided into view in her human form, smile too wide, voice too sweet. “Wouldn’t dream of missing such a spectacle.”

Four figures followed—her redcaps, disguised poorly as humans, their borrowed skin sitting just a shade too tight. Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes. The tieflings stared, some stepping back. Zevlor’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp with unspoken questions.

Karlach went utterly still. I could feel her infernal heart from here, its hum rising like a forge under strain. One more second, and she’d explode.

Before she could though, the sound of war cut through the air.

A single horn. Then another. Then a third, longer, angrier.

Zevlor’s face hardened. “Positions!” he barked. “To arms!”

The refugees scattered into place, the druids fanning out, their violet eyes shining. Auntie Ethel giggled softly, her voice like a knife cutting clean through the chaos “OoOoh, how exciting.”

The air filled with the metallic scrape of weapons and the rush of boots against dirt. My companions took their places beside me—Lae’zel calm and deadly, Shadowheart steady and elegant, Karlach smoldering, and Kagha serene but ready.

Somewhere beyond the walls, drums began to beat. The goblins were finally here.