After settling back into the Grove William began gathering supplies, loose weapons, ingredients and foodstuffs that the Druids and Tieflings were more than happy to gift to him.
By the time he had finished gathering, he had a large bag, several satchels, and weapons for both close-quarters combat and ranged.
In his large bag he had foodstuffs, fruits, vegetables, and a large roasted fish wrapped in some kind of material that slows the decay process, on top of which were slabs of dried jerky wrapped in the same material.
The female Tiefling who had lent him the sword in the goblin attack had appeared during his search and offered him the beautiful blade as a gift of thanks, she went on say that her late husband would be thankful that his trusty weapon would be useful once more.
The sword shone in the light, piercing through the trees. Its blade, a polished but clearly well-used surface of silver steel, bore the telltale marks of previous battles.
It was a fine blade and would definitely come in handy.
William precedes to feel the sword trying to understand it and a translucent blue scroll appears in front of him detailing the weapon and it's stats.
WIDOWER
(longsword), uncommon
Damage: 1d8 slashing (piercing 1d10)
Properties: Finesse, Versatile
Weight: 3 lb.
Weapon Type: Martial Melee
Necrotic Brand: Widower deals an additional 1d4 necrotic damage on every successful hit.
Oathbreaker's Bite: When Widower strikes a creature that is married, magically bonded, or bound by a formal oath, the attack deals an extra 1d6 necrotic damage.
William turned to the Tiefling woman who was already rejoining the others and could not help but wonder just who her husband was to have such a weapon.
He resheathed the blade, the scabbard being made of some kind of strange, dark leather that seemed to drink in the necrotic energy emanating from the sword.
A truly fine main weapon, until he finds something truly rare, perhaps even legendary if he was lucky.
Inside his satchels were scrolls of some kind and at further inspection he was surprised...
A Scroll of Sanctuary... 5 Scrolls of Protection from Evil and Good... 4 Scrolls of Mage Armor... A singular Scroll of Fireball, which caused William to breathe heavily in anticipation for its inevitable use.
His excitement was palpable to the point that Owlbert turned his head to the side and cooed.
William pats the baby Owlbear's head with affection, "It's okay, I'm just excited. This spell is something fierce!"
Owlbert sniffed at the scroll and shook its head while thinking, "Not food!"
HAAA... HAAA... HAAA... HAAA
William looked to the other side of the grove to see Karlach in a leather bra and loose pants, she was performing a series of pushups with quick and easy movements.
Her large, yet undeniably feminine muscles rippled with each powerful push she made, and her back was constantly letting out hissing noises as the moist air around her met the intense heat emanating from her very core.
William gulped audibly and turned away only to see Lae'zel in another area by herself, seemingly performing a series of stretches. Her alien features caught the moonlight in a way that was almost hypnotic.
She senses his lingering gaze and turned her head sharply towards his direction.
"Eyes to yourself, Istik, or I will have them removed!" She spat and turned abruptly, disappearing into the gloom, but he could hear the faint sounds of sword practice against a wooden dummy.
Sighing to himself William caught sight of a pale elf slinking in the night and approaches him hand on a dagger on his waist just in case he tried something funny.
"Astarion... What are you up to, buddy?" he said in a friendly manner.
Astarion turned his head to face him, his red eyes glowing faintly before settling back down. "A hunter's nearby, I can practically taste that damned garlic!" Then, with a gesture of disgust, he spat onto the ground.
"Also..." he paused and shivered, "Something dark is skulking in the night..."
William felt the fear in those words and frowned his eyes scanning the darkness his heritage allowing him to see further than most.
He shook his head, unable to see anything, his senses falling short of the instincts of a vampire spawn.
"H... Hey?" Astarion approached with a pleading expression, would you mind if I... Have a drink?" His eyes glowed as he stared at the pulsating vein on Williams neck.
William shook his head and pulled a dagger from his side causing Astarion to initially take a step back but William brought the blade against his own hand and pulled.
SHINK... SPLAT!
The blade of the dagger seemed to sing as it cut through his palm, and a splash of blood struck the ground.
"Drink from this," he said, holding out his bleeding hand. And Astarion didn't hesitate for a moment, grabbing his hand and drinking from it with the urgency of a man in the desert finally finding a source of life-giving water.
After drinking his fill, Astarion tears up and looks into the sky, his eyes glowing with the otherworldly red of vampirism as he lets out a sigh of pure relief and ecstasy.
"T... Thanks. I really did not want to go out there alone!" He used a handy handkerchief to wipe the remaining blood from his lips as his complexion seemed to become slightly less sickly pale.
William wrapped his hand in a fresh bandage and squeezed to make sure it was still functional.
"It's honestly better than you having to kill witnesses, hehe!" He chuckles and wipes the blood from his dagger before resheathing it at his waist.
As Halsin carefully sheathed the blade back into its scabbard, he was seen rapidly approaching the group's direction with a determined expression. He paused right in front of William and Astarion.
"I need your help..."
Halsins eyes flicked between William and Astarion his eyes narrowing slightly as he can sense something off about this man but his gaze returned to William.
"Before you leave, I would like to ask for your assistance in handling the rest of the goblins. The previous attack has destroyed a good portion of their forces, and they would be vulnerable to counterattack as they lick their wounds."
William thought about it for a moment and realized that with the healer there, they will be ready for another attack soon.
To save the grove, he would have to slay them or at the very least get them to leave, but knowing Goblins, they would not be easy to persuade to leave.
William did not answer right away.
His gaze lingered for a moment past Halsin, his eyes lingering on the flickering torchlight and the intricate woven roots of the Grove, before finally sweeping out toward the dark and shadowy border of the forest. There, he saw the unmistakable shapes of goblins, still breathing heavily, still sharpening rusted blades, still harboring dreams of fire and blood in the name of the Absolute.
He flexed his bandaged hand, feeling the faint thrum beneath his skin, that familiar sting of a fresh wound causing him to wince subtly, but it was usable.
Slowly, he nodded.
"I'll do it," William replied calmly, his voice betraying no emotion other than a steely resolve. "If they're allowed to regroup, this entire place is going to be wiped out during the next attack. And I'm not letting that happen."
Halsin's shoulders finally sagged a fraction, a subtle sign that the burden he had been carrying for so long was finally starting to find some relief and rest.
"Then the Grove owes you more than it can ever repay," Halsin said. "I will go prepare some supplies of my own!"
The moment the words left his mouth, William felt it.
A familiar pressure bloomed behind his eyes, like cold glass sliding into place.
With a soft chiming sound, reality folded, and a translucent blue screen unfurled before him, hovering in the air like a sheet of living crystal.
Symbols etched themselves into being, lines of text assembling with quiet finality.
[QUEST ACCEPTED]
SAVE THE EMERALD GROVE
Threat Level: High
Quest Type: Major Conflict Resolution
Status: Active
Objective:
• Eliminate the Goblin Leadership
• Disrupt or destroy the Goblin War Camp
• Prevent a coordinated assault on the Emerald Grove
Optional Objectives:
• Assassinate Goblin Commanders silently
• Sow chaos among the goblin ranks
• Rescue any captives held at the camp
Failure Condition:
• The Goblins regroup and launch a full-scale assault on the Grove
Rewards:
• Significant Experience Gain
• Reputation Increase: Druids of the Grove
• Reputation Increase: Tiefling Refugees
• Potential Rare or Unique Loot
For a fleeting moment, the screen flickered and pulsed, mimicking a heartbeat, before the image dissolved into a shower of blue light that swirled around William's eyes, disappearing completely.
Astarion raised a brow, eyes flicking from William to the empty air where the screen had been. "You know," he said lightly, "one day you'll have to explain why you keep staring at nothing, like your mind is elsewhere."
Halsin watched him closely, keen eyes narrowing not with suspicion, but curiosity. Whatever power guided this Half-Drow was not druidic in nature, so he could not sense it nor did it touch the weave in any tangible way.
"Make ready," Halsin said. "The goblins will not wait, and neither should we."
William reached back and gently rested his hand on the hilt of Widower, feeling the cold, patient hunger of the weapon stir beneath the scabbard's smooth surface.
Deep within the darkness, promises would be broken and blood would have to be paid for it, and William stepped forward, already walking toward war.
As William and Astarion walked towards the gate a pair of horns one reaching upwards like a finger towards the heavens themselves and one broken off at the halfway point.
William called out to Karlach, her feminine frame momentarily obscured by foliage before she came into full view.
His gaze lingered on her, drawn in by the way her feminine curves were beautifully balanced by the powerful muscle mass surrounding them. It was a powerful combination that exuded both power and grace.
Her eyes, bright and intense, met his directly, conveying a raw intensity that was both intimidating and alluring.
Karlach moved forward with long, confident strides, her boots crunching on the leaves and debris as the faint, infernal glow beneath her skin pulsed brighter and more intensely with each step.
The heat that emanated from her now felt different, less aggressive and more like the steady, quiet intensity of a forge at rest, still active and alive.
William turned just in time.
Their eyes met.
For just a fleeting instant, the world seemed to shrink down to that shared glance.
Her heart was filled with a burning anticipation, and her excitement was barely contained within her.
There was a palpable sense of resolve in his demeanor, sharpened by an unwavering certainty that he had already come to terms with whatever lay ahead.
Reaching him, she clapped a heavy, yet warm hand against his shoulder first, then followed it up with another, the impact solid but not unkind.
The warmth emanating from his robes seeped through instantly, not in a painful way, but rather as a genuine, comforting feeling. It was like a gentle grounding force.
"I've been hearing whispers of you heading towards the goblins' camp," Karlach stated, her grin widening into a fierce and unashamed expression. "Alright, I'm in. Count me in, soldier!"
The word "soldier" carried a sense of weight and seriousness, not mockery or derision.
A title that has been earned.
William let out a small, almost imperceptible breath, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he managed to force a smile onto his face. "I was hoping that's what you'd say."
She let out a hearty, booming laugh, a deep, roaring sound that turned a few heads in the general vicinity. "Good! Because I've been feeling like I've been itching to hit something that truly deserves it."
Karlach leaned in a little, her voice dropping down to a level where it was clearly intended to be private. "Besides," she said, tapping her chest where the infernal engine thrummed beneath the flesh and bone, "goblins let out some rather peculiar screams when they finally realize they've gotten themselves into a fight they simply cannot win."
Astarion materialized beside William with an air of theatrical precision, his arms crossed firmly and his eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them.
"Wonderful," he drawled.
"A walking furnace and a man who seems to stare directly at invisible walls, this is shaping up to be a delightful suicide march."
Karlach shot him a sideways glance, her smirk widening.
"Relax, pale guy. Stick close to me, and you might even live."
Halsin's voice carried from behind them, calm but firm.
Alright, then, it seems that's the final decision. We're going to strike before those goblins have a chance to recover completely.
Our biggest advantage will be our speed and our ability to make quick, decisive moves.
William took a deep breath, adjusting the straps of his pack while simultaneously resting his hand once more on the hilt of Widower.
The blade seemed to stir, eager, patient, aware, and hungry.
He quickly glanced at Karlach, then turned his attention to Astarion, and then back to Halsin. Finally, he fixed his gaze on the shadowed section of treeline, where he could make out faint flickers of firelight in the distance.
"Let's move," William said.
And together, they stepped forward, leaving the relative safety of the Grove behind as the encroaching forest consumed them entirely. The road ahead was now paved with the crimson tide of blood and fire, the screams of countless goblins echoing through the night, their voices filled with the terror of a fate they would never comprehend.
And alas, they disappeared into the night. On a high cliff stood a single pale figure with intensely glowing red eyes and a wicked smile stretching from ear to ear.