Throw a celebration after destroying the rest of the goblins

You look around at the weary faces of the Grove's defenders, the tieflings and druids alike, and give a firm nod. The time for battle is over, for now. "We must tend to our fallen," you say, your voice cutting through the din of victory. "And then we shall celebrate our triumph and prepare for the dawn."

The druids move quickly, their magical abilities turning the harshness of the battlefield into a place of peaceful rest for their comrades. The tieflings gather the surviving enemies, binding them with vines that seem to grow from the ground itself, ensuring they won't cause any more harm tonight. The orcs and goblins, once fierce in their loyalty to Minthara, now cower at the sight of the forest's power.

As the night gives way to a soft, early morning light, Zevlor calls for a gathering in the central clearing. The fires are lit, not for warmth but for camaraderie, and a somber mood fills the air as the losses are mourned. Yet, there is a spark of hope amidst the grief, for the Grove still stands, its spirit unbroken.

You move through the crowd, your heart heavy with the cost of the battle but buoyed by the resilience of those around you. The night is young, and there’s much to reflect on.

You find Lae’zel standing at the edge of the clearing, her golden eyes scanning the festivities with a look of disdain. She turns as you approach, her expression unreadable.

“This… *celebration*,” she says, her voice dripping with contempt. “It reeks of weakness. The fallen are dead. Mourning them will not bring them back.”

You cross your arms, your tone calm but firm. “It’s not just about mourning. It’s about honoring their sacrifice. They fought to protect this place, and we’re here because of them.”

She snorts, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. “Sentimentality will get you killed. The strong survive. The weak perish. That is the way of things.”

You study her for a moment, then nod. “Maybe. But strength isn’t just about fighting. It’s about standing together. Even you have to admit that.”

Her gaze softens, just a fraction. “Do not mistake my words for a lack of respect. You fought well today. But do not let this… *victory* cloud your judgment. The war is far from over.”

You smile, your tone light. “I’ll keep that in mind. But for tonight, maybe try to relax. You’ve earned it.”

She raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “Relaxation is for the weak. But I will… observe. For now.”

Karlach is at the heart of the celebration, her laughter ringing out as she regales a group of tieflings with tales of the battle. She spots you approaching and grins, her fiery eyes gleaming.

“There he is! The hero of the hour! Come on, soldier, join the fun!”

You laugh, taking a seat beside her. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Damn right I am,” she says, raising her cup in a toast. “We kicked some serious arse out there. And these folks? They’ve got spirit. I like that.”

You nod, your expression thoughtful. “It wasn’t easy. We lost a lot of good people.”

Her grin falters, and she sets her cup down, her tone softening. “Yeah. We did. But they didn’t die for nothin’. They died protectin’ what matters. And that’s worth celebratin’.”

You raise your cup, clinking it against hers. “To the fallen.”

“To the fallen,” she echoes, her voice steady. “And to the livin’. We’ve got a long road ahead, but tonight? Tonight we drink.” You share a few minutes with her as you finally decide to check up on Shadow.

Shadowheart sits alone by one of the smaller fires, her silver hair glowing in the flickering light. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.

“Enjoying the festivities?” you ask, taking a seat beside her.

She shrugs, her tone cool. “It’s… something. I’ve never been one for celebrations. Too much noise, too many people.”

You nod, your gaze fixed on the flames. “It’s been a long day. I think everyone needs this.”

She glances at you, her sharp eyes studying your face. “And what about you? How are you holding up?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. It’s hard to feel like we’ve won when so many are gone.”

She nods, her expression softening. “Loss is a part of war. But you did what you had to do. The Grove is safe because of you.”

You turn to her, your voice quiet. “And what about you? Are you okay?”

She hesitates, then looks away. “I’m fine. But… thank you. For asking.”

For a moment, there’s silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between you. Then she speaks again, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re a good leader. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

You smile, your heart warming at her words. “Thanks, Shadowheart. That means a lot.”

She nods, her gaze returning to the flames. “Just don’t let it go to your head.”

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