Ground Tactics

We crouched low, creeping alongside the massive, gnarled trunk that dominated the clearing like a petrified deity. The stump was at least ten meters wide, its roots splayed outward like veins, writhing across the surface in a tangled, pulsing web of bark and blackened sap.

I stopped dead in my tracks and signaled a halt. The girls froze, and saw why I stopped—a pair of massive Wooden Guardians, like twisted treefolk, standing motionless at the center of the root-veined zone. Their bark twisted into grim faces and thick, mossy limbs bristled with thorns. Around them, three imp-like creatures made of dripping mud stalked the edges of the roots—Mephits.

The terrain was a deathtrap. The natural defense of the zone barred any direct melee approach. Beyond that, the surrounding mud glistened with slick danger—any hasty step would end in a faceplant or worse.

I crouched behind a crumbling half-wall, thinking hard. This was one of those fights that didn’t reward brute ****. It needed timing. Distraction. Target control.

After a full minute, I had it.

I pointed across the battlefield. “Shadowheart—take the high ground on that slope. One of the mud imps is circling close. Lae’zel, stay with her. Keep anything off her. When she’s clear, fireball the center. Hard.”

They looked at eachother and nodded silently, they both darted off toward the rise. Shadowheart with small sparks in hand, Lae’zel, blade already half-drawn.

Karlach, you gets as close to the wood things as you can without touching the roots. She exaggerated each step with an almost theatrical sneakiness, crouching low and tiptoeing like a stage thief in broad daylight.

I shifted my stance and lined up two of the mud imps in my sights, waited until they passed near the tangle of roots… then loosed two blasts. Eldritch energy slammed into their squat bodies and yanked them, squealing, right into the waiting center.

Shadowheart’s eyes glowed. Her hands lifted. The fireball arced down from her plateau like a falling sun and crashed into the clearing with a roar of orange flame.

The root-veined floor erupted into heat and splinters, the Guardians lit like bonfires, the two imps screeched as they were incinerated.

Karlach let out a wild yell and took two running steps before vaulting the slick mud in one perfect, powerful leap. She landed hard, skidding into the burning root zone, and charged through the flames toward the scorched Guardians.

They reeled, weakened and distracted, their bark already cracking. Karlach’s axe sang as she met them head-on, flames licking her skin, but she didn’t flinch. The fire only made her burn hotter.

The third mud imp tried to flank Shadowheart. Lae’zel intercepted with brutal efficiency—her blade sliced the thing in half, but its **** scream triggered an internal burst. The mud exploded outward, splashing both of them. Lae’zel took the worst of the damage, stumbling back, grimacing.

When the smoke cleared, the Guardians were ash. The ground sizzled, the roots charred to embers.

We regrouped.

Shadowheart turned toward Lae’zel, lifting her hand and murmuring a healing prayer. Radiant light poured into Lae’zel’s bruised side. The gith didn’t speak, but she gave the smallest nod.

Shadowheart didn’t gloat. Just continued in silence. Maybe my words earlier had sunk in, We don’t need you two fighting. At least for today, they listened.

Karlach strode out of the burnt ground, grinning wide, steam rising from her shoulders. “That. Was. So. Cool!” She stretched her arms wide. “Those treefolk were twice as big as me—and I’m a big girl!”

She gave me a wink. “They sure were out of their element.” Then her expression shifted—playful, heated. “With my strength and your smarts, we could go far, soldier.”

She paused. Her cheeks flushed deeper. Her eyes lingered on mine for a second too long. A grin tugged at her lips, and the flames around her shoulders flared a little higher.

“Go cool off, Karlach,” I said, eyeing the crates. “Stop burning the loot.”

She laughed and trotted off with a wave, still burning hot.

I moved among the wreckage, prying open crates and bags. The Guardians were burned too thoroughly to yield anything. But the remaining chests? Filled with dried supplies, sealed packages of grain, wheels of hard cheese, supplies for a days and a pair of low level fist-fighting gloves that I had no use for.

Then I found it.

A crevice at the base of the massive tree trunk. Just wide enough for a hand.

I reached in—and pulled out a sealed parchment, waterlogged around the edges but intact.

I feigned surprise. “Found something!”

The girls gathered around.

Shadowheart leaned in. Her expression darkened as she scanned the paper.

“Kagha.”

Lae’zel frowned. “T'chk!”

Karlach tilted her head. “Who’s Kagha again?”

“Acting Headdruid of the Grove we are trying to save,” I said. “Authoritarian. Ruthless. Thinks the Grove should be corrupted under the Shadow druids—and purged. I always had a feeling she was a snake.”

“What do we do?” Shadowheart asked.

“We talk to her,” I said. “Quietly. Maybe she’ll pay to keep this secret. Or maybe she’ll see reason. Either way—we hold the cards.”

"Good thinking" Shadowheart agreed

[Shadowheart: Approval +1]

Lae’zel nodded once.

[Lae’zel: Approval +1]

Karlach grimaced. “Feels wrong,” she muttered.

[Karlach: Approval -2]

Such is life in a party with mixed alignments.