Authority
A short distance away from the teahouse, the ragtag group of runaways trudges through the thick sludge of the swamp to the dry-ish land on the other side. Dragged there by Karlach's insistence, refusing to let them walk away.
“What are we even looking for, anyway?” Hidan whines. “It’s gross here and I’ve gotta fuckin’ piss, when do we get outta here?"
“I thought I saw something,” Karlach says. “Dunno what, but I got a weird feeling we gotta check it out.”
“If you say so.”
They finally make their way onto the muddy sort-of-island, where Karlach throws her arm out to keep everyone back.
“Hold on- we aren’t alone here-”
She’s not wrong; shuffling around the remnants of a long-fallen tree, strange humanoid creatures made entirely of wood shamble about, wordlessly keeping watch over…something.
“Wood woads- you don’t see those every day…”
I wonder who made these.”
“Made?”
“Wood woads are made to be guardians. So if they’re here, that means somebody put them there. Which means there’s something somebody wants to hide.”
Astarion rubs his hands together in glee, practically hopping up and down with anticipation.
“How do we get them out of the way, then?” he asks.
“Well, they’re made out of wood.” Itachi says, sounding bored as he steps forward. “I think I can handle this.”
Everyone else catches on to what he means and gives him the needed distance.
A few quick hand signs, and he takes as deep a breath as he can muster.
The creatures catch sight of him, and lunge toward him, making strange half-groaning, half-growling sounds.
One shoots out a string of brambles that wraps around his ankle, trying to pull him into the mud, but missing it by a hair's breadth.
He places his hands palm-down on the ground, mouthing something the others can't hear.
Columns of flames burst out from the ground, enveloping the strange creatures and sending them reeling.
The creatures howl and thrash about, the thorny vines releasing their grip on his ankles.
The fire dances against his flat, black eyes which watch impassively as the creatures burn. The woads are easy to dispatch after that, only taking a few careful blows from the others to shatter them into a billion burning splinters.
“How did you know that would stop them regenerating?” Gale asks.
“They're made of wood. Wooden things don’t tend to cope very well with being on fire.”
“...Right. Fair enough.”
Kisame picks up an odd looking shield from one of the charred woads, tapping it against the ground a few times to test its sturdiness.
“Astarion, there’s some sort of chest over there- you think you could get it open for us?”
“Hardly a challenge,” Astarion sighs, as he heads over to do exactly that.
Before he crouches down to start picking the lock, however, he perks up, something else catching his eye.
“Something the matter?”
“There’s a notch in this tree over here-”
Astarion examines the notch cut in the bark carefully, then digs his nails in the narrow gap between the bark and the wood and prying it away.
It exposes a sloppily folded piece of paper, which he opens up eagerly, anticipating something juicy.
“Oh my,” he mutters, covering his mouth with a hand in a half-attempt to hide his grin.
“What?” Karlach asks, hovering over his shoulder trying to read it. “What’s going on?”
“It seems like our dear friend Kagha has been naughty,” he giggles.
“What do you mean?”
Astarion brandishes the paper in the air in gleeful triumph.
“Our nature-loving little friend has been striking deals with shadow druids behind the others’ backs,” he says. “Looks like she tried to stash the evidence here hoping nobody would find out.”
“Shadow druids, eh?” Shadowheart asks. “I suppose that explains why she’s so eager to finish that ritual of theirs.”
“You mean the Rite of Thorns?” Karlach asks. “I’ve heard that not a lot of druid circles survive that. What's she thinking?!”
“Thought probably doesn’t have much to do with it,” Orochimaru says, getting all sets of eyes on him.
“You know about the Rite of Thorns?”
“No,” he admits. “But people aren’t really as different as they like to think. They always think running away and hiding from the world and its problems is better than facing the ugliness it might have. It never goes the way they hope, in my experience.”
He rests his hands on his hips and sighs, making a show of looking upset.
(This whole thing is somehow far too familiar for his liking…)
“I would have hoped Kagha would have more sense than that. Maybe I thought too highly of her.”
Astarion leans toward him with an obnoxiously catty expression, grinning as he pretends to examine his fingernails.
“If I didn't know any better, I’d say you’re disappointed in her.”
Orochimaru doesn’t particularly want to answer, but if he doesn’t come up with something Astarion will never stop bothering him.
(Besides, trying to hide things when their unwelcome visitors seem to very much love spilling their secrets is a pointless endeavor.)
“Maybe a little.” he concedes. “At least, I thought she would be smarter than that.”
“She would have killed that poor little tiefling girl if you hadn’t stepped in,” Astarion points out. “Are we that surprised she’s making shady dealings?”
“I guess I shouldn’t be.”
So what do we do with this information, anyway?” Itachi asks. “I don’t see how this is any of our concern.”
“This puts all the tieflings at the grove in danger,” Wyll points out. “If we do nothing, they’ll die on the road. We cannot allow that to happen.”
There’s a smattering of muttering amongst the others, debating the best course of action.
“I guess that Halsin character would like to know what’s happening in his precious grove while he’s away, as well.” Orochimaru decides, scratching his chin and frowning.
“If we can find him fast enough.” Gale sighs.
“And if he’s still alive,” Shadowheart chimes in, looking pessimistic. The people at the grove said they hadn’t heard from him in a long time.”
“I’d say the odds of him still being with us depend on how good looking he is,” Astarion shrugs. “Goblins aren’t really known for keeping prisoners unless they’re uh- how do I put this- worth their while.”
He draws quotes in the air with his fingers as he says the last words, his meaning perfectly clear.
They stand around contemplating their dilemma for a bit.
“There were plenty of goblins back in that abandoned village, Orochimaru points out. “Maybe we can get one of the little cretins to spill where their base of operations is. If he’s anywhere, he should be there.”
“They’re cowardly little beasts,” Astarion says. “That shouldn’t be too hard- especially with our little stowaways giving us an advantage.”
“Lead the way, then.”
“We will return to the grove,” Lae’zel tells Kisame, with no regard to his opinion on the matter. “We will see what these tieflings know of my kin.”
Kisame nods along.
“Sounds like a plan. What do you think, Itachi?”
“That’s fine.”
And with that, the group splits off yet again.
Their way back is mostly uneventful, backtracking following the trail they’d left behind while making their way there.
“Alright, now where do we-”
“-Stop this thing!”
“...Did you hear something?” Astarion asks.
“Get me down! Help!”
“I did, actually.” Orochimaru replies, scratching at the side of his face. “Someone seems to be in a bad spot.”
“It doesn’t sound like a goblin. We should check it out- it might be entertaining.”
The noise is coming from around the rickety windmill, so they take a leisurely stroll in that direction.
A small group of goblins and a couple wargs cackle gleefully, as some poor unfortunate bastard tied to the windmill’s blades spins around, howling all the while.
What are you up to?”
“Teachin’ the birdie to fly!” the larger of the goblins laughs. “Wanna join ‘im?”
Orochimaru frowns, but then he spies the mark across the goblin's face.
The mark glows, and once again he feels that strange sensation stirring within him.
Power.
Authority.
“You’re going to take all your disgusting little friends,” he says, perfectly calmly, and perfectly pleasantly. “You’re going to clear out of here and not cause any more trouble. Do I make myself clear?”
The goblins recoil in unison, cowering like a pack of terrified dogs.
“I- we didn’t mean-”
“-Come on, then. You heard the True Soul- let’s get out of here-”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude-”
The goblins start scampering away, letting out stammered apologies and protecting their heads with their hands like they’re expecting to be hit.
Somewhere in the back of Orochimaru’s mind, something lurches- it feels like something’s bitten him, taking something he’ll never get back…
He’s probably reading too much into it. That’s a ridiculous thought, right?
His mind is just playing tricks on him. That’d be normal in his situation.
Right. He’ll go with that, because it’s easier for him to accept, and then push to the back of his mind.
"Get me down!" the captive cries out.
"Alright, alright. Keep your pants on..." Orochimaru grumbles at him.
They make their way around the windmill until they find an opening that allows them access to the insides, where they presume the gears should be.
Sure enough, there are a pair of levers- a bit rotted and worn-down, but they should still be usable.
“Which one of these will let us get him down?”
“That one should do the trick,” Astarion says, pointing to the leftmost lever. “But honestly-”
He points toward an identical looking one bearing a different inscription to the right.
“That one will be a lot funnier.”
Though Orochimaru could use a good laugh, he decides he should spare the unfortunate soul tied to the windmill, so he pulls the lever to the left.
With a creak and a squeal, the windmill comes to a halt.
“There. That’s that.”
They head back out and survey the situation. The poor man thrashes against the rope strapping him to the windmill, but still not budging an inch.
“I’ve seen some gnomes in unfortunate situations, but this is beyond the pale.” Astarion remarks.
“Cut. Me. Loose.” the gnome demands, thrashing against his bonds in vain.
“Alright, alright. Give me a moment, you don’t have to be so demanding.”
Orochimaru cuts the bindings loose with a beleaguered sigh, as if this is the greatest inconvenience he could ever suffer.
The gnome flops into the dirt with a small “oof” and a groan.
“There you go. All better?”
“Ugh- pustulent thugs-” the gnome mumbles, staggering as he tries to get his bearings on solid ground.
“Are you quite alright?” Orochimaru asks him, trying very, very hard not to laugh.
Glaring at him, the man regains what little composure he has.
“Well, out with it then.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“You saved me. Now you’ll extort me. That's how this always goes.”
“As amusing as that would be,” Orochimaru says, “you’ve given me plenty of entertainment, so I’m in a good mood. I’m more interested in how you got caught.”
“Oh?” the hapless victim says, looking surprised but grateful. “Well- it was my own fault, really. I was too bogged down by my supplies so I couldn’t outrun the bastards. A mistake I don’t intend to repeat- I’ll be sure to travel lightly from now on.”
“And who have I had the pleasure of rescuing exactly?”
“Barcus. Barcus Wroot. Take my pack, if you can find it. I won’t be needing it.”
“Aren’t you a little far away from home for a Deep Gnome?” Astarion asks, bending down to be closer to his level.
Barcus laughs, shaking his head.
“Ignorance is still alive and well, it would seem. No, my people have been making our homes in new territory these days. Now if you don’t mind-”
He straightens himself out and gives a half-salute.
“If we meet again- well. We will have met again.
With that he walks off, muttering to himself all the while.
Interesting fellow.
“I have the feeling we haven’t seen the last of him,” Astarion laughs.
“Let’s hope it’s under better circumstances this time, yeah?”
“I still don’t see why you went out of your way to help a gnome, anyway. Gnomes in dire straits are a copper a dozen, you’d run yourself ragged trying to save them all.”
“Hm? I’m not sure, really. I guess I’m in a good mood.”
He watches a cloud float across the sky, pointedly avoiding eye contact.
“Or maybe I’m just counting on him paying me back for the favor sometime.”
He feels Astarion’s frown burning into the side of his head, almost like he’s disappointed.
“Ah- of course. There’s not a lot of point of helping someone if you get nothing out of it, is there?”’
It feels an awful lot like Orochimaru was given some sort of secret test, and failed it badly.
“Now that that’s out of the way-”
Orochimaru rummages around in his pack until he finds the scroll he wants, then speaks the incantation to summon their…colorful little friend.
“Ooh! Ooh!” Basket shouts, hopping from one clawed foot to the other. “What shall we do today, master? Murder? Arson? Torture, maybe?”
“I haven’t quite decided yet,” Orochimaru says, half-lying. “But first, I need a little help with something.”
“Yeah? Basket can help, maybe.”
“You said there was something that would open up that book we found. It should be nearby, shouldn’t it?”
“Yep! Follow Basket-”
Basket leads them to the broken-down well waiting for them in the center of the village, pointing toward it with one of her claws.
“Here! Ily said it was here, last time I saw him…
Are you sure about that?”
“Sure Basket is sure!”
“So we’re seriously going down there?” Astarion asks, peering down the well and wrinkling his nose at the foul smell emanating from it.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Hm? No, I don’t suppose I do.”
"I tell you truth!" Basket whines, when Astarion hesitates for too long. "Trust Basket always! Always!"
"Ugh. There better be something very worth it down here," he groans as they start to climb the rickety rope downward.
Orochimaru decides, in the back of his mind, if Basket is somehow lying to them, he'll find the nearest set of stairs to kick the little shit down.