The Nightwarden
Somehow, they all manage to find each other in a deserted little corner of the overtaken temple.
Everyone looks anxious, which is to be expected. But Shadowheart in particular looks like she’s dying inside more and more, the longer they remain here.
It might be a good idea to see themselves out soon, or the poor thing might collapse in on herself from the shame of being here.
“Ah, there you are- I was wondering where you’d run off to.”
Orochimaru folds his arms like a scolding parent. Itachi doesn’t even blink in response.
“We got Halsin,” he answers, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, brown mouse.
“...Halsin’s a fuckin’ rodent?” Hidan asks, squinting skeptically.
“For now,” Kisame explains. “He’ll be able to properly introduce himself later.”
“But why is he all tiny?”
“Long story.”
“Well, now you have your druid,” Lae’zel snaps. “And what did he say about our parasites?”
Kisame goes purple in the face as he realizes that she is about to get very, very smug.
“He isn’t able to fix us,” he admits. “But he said he’s got some leads about what’s going on here.”
“That’s all well and good,” Shadowheart remarks. “But that won’t do us much good here and now. So what’s the plan?”
“He said there’s three leaders of this camp.” Kisame answers. “Gut, the priestess, Minthara the drow, and Dror Ragzlin, the goblins’ leader. If we take them out, the grove doesn’t have anything to worry about.”
“Seems simple enough,” Wyll remarks. “Three lives to save many- I’ll call that a bargain.”
Well. Three lives and something extra. But the others don't know that yet.
“As a matter of fact,” Orochimaru says, “We were just going to meet the drow.”
“So uh, the fuck is a drow?” Hidan asks.
“Elves from the Underdark, essentially,” Shadowheart explains. “Though it’s strange to hear of one mingling with goblins.”
“This Absolute seems to be having people doing a lot of strange things,” Gale ponders, scratching at his beard in thought. “We best tread lightly.
“I would think we’re a few steps past treading lightly,” Orochimaru points out. “Figuring this out quickly will be our best bet.”
“In that case,” Astarion giggles, “let’s spill some blood.”
“That might get a little complicated,” Orochimaru reminds him.
Everyone seems anxious as they approach, not having yet caught the drow’s attention.
“Best let me handle this.” Orochimaru says. “If too many of us get to talking at once we’re bound to screw it up somehow.”
Fair enough. The others go quiet as he approaches ahead of them.
Surrounded by a small fleet of terrified looking goblins is a single woman, scanning a series of maps and assorted papers with an irritated expression.
The woman at the table looks up at them with a quizzical glance that quickly turns to relief.
She must certainly be Minthara- the one they came here for.
She isn’t remarkably tall, but gives the impression of towering over everyone in the room with how she carries herself. Head held high, she manages to look down her nose at everyone in the room, even the ones technically taller than her.
She has a beautiful face with sharp, regal features and silky silver hair swept up in a loose bun at the back of her head.
Despite that regal, commanding demeanor of hers, however, it’s already obvious that something is off.
At least, it’s obvious to Orochimaru.
Dark rings of exhaustion surround her eyes, and even with the unusual bluish-purple hue of her skin, she seems a bit pale.
Maybe because of the baby (assuming those goblins were telling the truth and not just making things up- which they may very well be). But maybe something else is pressing on her mind.
Or a lot of somethings.
She looks up from whatever it is she’s doing, and looks over each of them in turn, those sharp red eyes of hers taking in every detail.
It doesn’t take her more than a moment to decide who’s apparently in charge here.
(Or, who she wants to be in charge.)
She approaches Orochimaru like they’re long-time friends, taking both of his hands in hers and smiling.
(Her hands are rough, well-calloused and worn. These are hands well acquainted with hard work- or perhaps heavy weapons.)
“Welcome, True Soul,” she says, in a firm, authoritative voice that must have made many lesser people kneel. “You are a welcome sight.”
She must be some sort of nobility. She certainly carries herself with the arrogance of one.
“I am?”
“These creatures, ” she says, with a disgusted sneer, “serve their purpose for the Absolute, but they are sorely lacking.”
She lifts one of his hands to kiss the back of it, in an uncannily familiar gesture.
“I have been craving one who can match my mind, True Soul. Without that, we will extract nothing but screams and blood from our enemies.”
There’s the glint of something wicked in her eyes, a giddy note in her breath as she speaks.
“She has sent you here for that purpose, hasn’t she? To lend us your strength."
“Hm?”
“To drive the heretics out of that grove. To reclaim the Absolute’s weapon. That is why you’re here, is it not?”
What are you doing? Itachi asks, using the perks that the tadpole gives them to speak without being overheard.
Give me a moment, Orochimaru snaps back at him. I haven’t done anything yet.
“When you say you’ll drive the heretics from the drive,” he says, carefully, “what do you have in mind, exactly?”
Rather than simply tell them, Minthara decides to show them precisely what’s on her mind.
Or, well, in it.
Scores of dead tieflings and druids scattering the grove, their blood leaching into the ground, lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. The foliage around them burning, anything valuable plundered.
The very same object tucked away in Shadowheart’s pocket in Minthara’s hand, held aloft like a great trophy.
He feels Shadowheart’s anxiety as surely as his own- but beyond that, another, stranger consciousness that’s different from any of the tadpoles.
You know what? Hidan remarks, folding his arms and looking the woman over. I say we let her have that fuckin’ grove.
Soldier, what are you talking about?! Karlach screams, trying to hide her horrified expression.
They’re a buncha shitheads. We can get back before they get here, get all the tieflings free, then leave the rest to burn. Fuck it, I don’t care if they feel sorry.
As much as he loathes to give Hidan any credit, Orochimaru has to admit it is a tempting proposition. Those druids have annoyed him beyond measure- especially with the way they frightened that poor little girl.
In an ideal world, he would very much like to see the grove razed to ashes, so that something better could be grown from the ruins, after the tieflings were safely on the road.
Yet, as he regards the woman in front of her, he realizes that offering such a compromise would not be the least bit appealing to her.
Her interest is in blood. Druid blood, tiefling blood, any blood will do, from that manic glint in her eyes.
No. She is not one to be reasoned with. People with murder on their mind very seldom are.
I don’t think that’s an option.
Itachi is awfully quiet, stone-faced as scarlet eyes stay fixed on Minthara.
Surely those Sharingan of his must see the full situation. And surely, since he can tell, the prospect of killing this woman and her unborn child will be deeply unappealing to him.
Halsin pokes his head out of Itachi’s pocket, wearing the most anxious expression a mouse is capable of wearing.
Orochimaru takes quick stock of the situation.
A half-mad pregnant woman with a thirst for blood, and a mace in hand that lets him know she’s quite capable of extracting it. Half the people on his side are more or less okay with ending her and the would-be child both- the other half, he assumes, would be thoroughly opposed.
(Wyll perhaps more vocally so than the rest of them.)
Decisions, decisions. And he’ll have to make them soon.
Slipping something into the drink she has on the table is one option, but that could be detected, not to mention possibly harm the baby. Assuming it’s a wanted child she’s carrying, she’d probably not be in a talking sort of mood if that happened.
He has more options, of course. Those just hinge on how likely she is to let him stay close to her, however.
Luckily, he’s always considered himself an excellent performer. Particularly under pressure.
“This weapon the Absolute is after,” he asks. “What is it? Why would it be there?”
“Surely you saw it,” Minthara says, cocking her head in puzzlement. “The crashed ship- within it was an artifact that the Absolute needs returned. It was not on the ship, but we have been hunting down traces of its magic.”
Shadowheart looks anxious, and a strange feeling fills the air.
Something tells him that this weapon is far closer than they’d realized.
"It is near- but the trail keeps running cold. That is where we need your help."
"I see."
People here don’t seem to recognize the hand signs he and the others use, perhaps mistaking them for mere fidgeting. So when Minthara releases his hands and turns away from him, he performs a well-rehearsed seal.
“Can I rely on you, True Soul?”
Orochimaru smiles, stepping toward her as a greenish light wraps itself around his hands as the symbols are completed.
“I think you’ll find I’m the reliable sort,” he reassures her.
Before she can turn around to respond, he shoves his hands flat against the small of her back, and the greenish light surrounding them swallows her entire body.
In an instant, Minthara can tell something is wrong. Her head starts to nod as drowsiness overwhelms her, as she fights against it, slurring out a demand to now what’s been done to her.
Her struggle is admirable, but ultimately fruitless. She falls unconscious, going limp and slumping over, out cold. Orochimaru catches her before she can fall over and bash her head, remarking to himself that she’s a good bit heavier than her thin frame might suggest.
(It's a terribly cheap trick, he knows. But he would rather not deal with the repercussions if they had to fight her and something unpleasant were to happen. And he knows that she would not have gone down easy if he hadn't gone for the cheap trick. So, cheap he will be.)
The others dispatch the goblins that had accompanied her- not a difficult task, considering how off-guard they’re caught. None of them even have the chance to call for help beforehand.
The corpses are unceremoniously dumped into the chasm to the left of them, where they go tumbling into the darkness for a good ten seconds before a dull thud is heard.
Once the evidence is handily disposed of, they turn their attention to the task at hand.
“Holy hell, what’d you do?!” Hidan asks, blinking in disbelief. “Out like a fuckin’ light.”
“Nothing that’ll do her any permanent harm.” Orochimaru assures him- well, assures Itachi as he glares daggers at him from across the room, and Wyll as he looks absolutely horrified. “Once she wakes up from her little nap, we’ll be able to have a nice little chat with her about what this Absolute is and what it has to do with our tadpoles. For now though-”
He gestures toward a supply closet a short way away.
“-We should probably put her somewhere she won’t get hurt while we deal with the others. We’ll want to be quick- this only works for a few hours at best.”
Hidan grabs one half of her while Wyll grabs the other, making their best effort to handle her carefully.
“Man, she is gonna be pissed at us when she wakes up,” Hidan laughs. “You think she’s gonna try to shank us once whatever the fuck he did to ‘er wears off?”
“We’ll just have to be careful about that,” Wyll says, a little annoyed.
They set her up in as comfortable a position as they can manage, then shut the door behind her.
(She somehow looks on edge, even as she’s sleeping. Orochimaru wonders how long it’s been since she’s had a decent rest.)
Karlach wedges a chair under the door's handle, making sure she'll be well and truly stuck there in the event she wakes up- at least for a little while.
“That should do it until we’ve got things wrapped up here.”
“So long as we do our work quickly, anyway.”
Itachi pulls Halsin out of his pocket, and in a burst of gold light, he returns to his original form.
"Goddamn, you're a big motherfucker aintcha?!" Hidan can't help but remark.
Halsin elects to ignore this.
He looks wary about leaving Minthara alive, but seems to accept it, however begrudgingly.
“Now we only need to handle the priestess and this Ragzlin character,” Astarion says. “Should be easy enough.”
“And if the rest of the camp decides to fight with them?” Gale asks, uneasiness written into the crease of his brow.
“We’re already knee-deep in goblin blood,” Astarion sighs. “What’s a little more?”
“Let’s just try to get it over with quickly,” Itachi complains. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
“I will do whatever I can to be of aid,” Halsin reassures them. “Let us make short work of this.”
“Of course. We do have the issue of all the cretins outside of this building, so we’ll need to get them taken care of, too.”
Itachi perks up, then starts rummaging around in his many pockets.
"They seem fond of their drink." he remarks, pulling out a bottle of translucent green fluid.
He holds it up and gives it a shake- the liquid within the bottle froths up violently, managing to seem volatile even in this inert state.
"That healer said this is something called wyvern toxin."
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what Itachi is suggesting.
An unusually morbid suggestion for Itachi, but an excellent one nonetheless.
"Shouldn't be hard to slip this past them to give their drinks a little something extra," Orochimaru says, with a wicked grin. "Let's finish things in here quietly so nobody catches on."