Victory
They were able to avoid one confrontation, true. But they still have more to come, and the clock is ticking to get it over with- as soon as anyone discovers what they’ve done, it’s pretty much over. And as easy as these goblins are to kill, dozens of them would be troublesome to take on all at once.
“I heard this Ragzlin person was supposed to be in here doing some sort of ritual thing. If we were gonna make a move on him, I think that’d be the best time to do it.”
Kisame has a point- striking before the others realize something has happened to Minthara.
Halsin nods, with a grave look on his face.
“As soon as we start it, we’re probably not getting out of this until every single person here is dead, I hope you understand that.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.”
“It’s time for murderizing?” Basket asks, bouncing up and down with excitement.
Looking down at his quasit friend, Orochimaru smiles.
“It’s time for you to have your fun, little friend.”
Basket lights up, and starts giggling like a child who’s just been told she can have all the candy she wants.
“Ehehehe! It’s fisting time!” she declares, giddily rubbing her clawed hands together.
Hidan snorts, and bites his tongue to stifle a laugh. Itachi coughs and looks away, turning bright red as he does. Orochimaru blinks a few times in rapid succession.
“...Do me a favor,” he says, “and never say that again.”
“So uh, do we have a plan here, or what?” Hidan asks, looking around warily as they step toward what feels like certain death.
(He isn’t even sure why he’s so anxious. He’s faced worse odds, he’s pretty sure, and gotten out alright. And it’s not like he’s running into it alone.)
“You alright, soldier?” Karlach asks.
“Me? Never been fuckin’ better.”
“You just turned a funny color. Thought somethin’ was wrong.”
“Besides the worm in my head and havin’ to piss somethin’ fierce? I’m just dandy,” Hidan lies, though not as convincingly as he would’ve liked. “It’ll be fine once we get the hell outta here.”
“Well,” Orochimaru says, placing his hands on the heavy doors separating them from the goblins within. “No sense wasting any more time, is there?”
Without any ceremony, he throws the doors open, catching everyone inside thoroughly off-guard.
The hulking beast of a man standing on a platform above the other goblins must be Dror Ragzlin.
Though his skin is already a rusty red color, it manages to grow redder still from the indignance at being interrupted.
Before he can demand what they’re doing, however, Basket throws herself into the room, still cackling.
“Shit yer trouser-holes! Basket is here!”
She slashes her claws at a charging goblin, lacerating his throat and sends him careening off the side and into a pit where a few large, rather hairy spiders are waiting.
If the goblin was not doomed before, he certainly is as soon as the spiders descend upon him, ready and eager to feed.
“Traitors!” the goblin leader howls, leaping from the high platform, heavy warhammer in hand and murderous intent in his eyes.
"Bring it, fuckers!" Hidan laughs. "I've been itchin' to rip you apart!"
Ragzlin howls, swinging his hammer at Itachi, who is the closest, and bracing himself for the impact-
But the impact is very different than he expected.
Rather than Itachi’s fragile spine, he is instead met with a glowing red ribcage, wrapping itself around him like a cloak, shielding him from harm.
“I won’t be broken that easily.”
Ragzlin is undeterred and takes another swing without hesitation.
The hammer ricochets off the ghostly skeleton surrounding him, sending Ragzlin flying backward.
Basket cackles, taking advantage of his daze to throw herself onto Ragzlin’s head and claw at his eyes, while he howls and tries desperately to get her off him with no success. She digs her long, sharp talons into his eye sockets, delighting in the blood that spurts out from the gaping wounds she leaves behind.
Quite a pitiful state for someone with such a fearsome reputation, Kisame can’t help but think as he wrestles the hammer from the hobgoblin’s hands.
It’s got a good heft to it, and it fits so naturally in his hands, as if it were made for him.
Since he’s currently parted from his beloved sword, Kisame figures this is as good a replacement as any.
He takes a practice swing at one of the guards that lunge at him, and he connects with quite a satisfying crunch as the goblin’s bones shatter beneath the hammer’s weight.
Another swing and it connects with Ragzlin’s spine, sending Basket flying to land, unfortunately unhurt, a few yards away.
Oh, he is going to enjoy this.
The world narrows down to the task at hand- something he is quite familiar with.
Death. Killing. And a whole lot of it.
It’s like being home after a long time away- something he knows better than his own self.
Nothing to worry about- even without Samehada in hand, so long as Itachi is by his side like he always is, even the two of them could take out this whole camp without much fuss. The others being around is just icing on the bloody, bloody cake.
He isn’t quite sure which one of them is that priestess they’re supposed to kill, but if they kill everyone here, he figures that’ll take care of the problem.
There’s a flash, and he sees Gale flying through the air, careening off a steep drop-
-Before Kisame can even think about running to save him from plummeting to a rather messy death, a huge, crimson skeletal hand wraps itself around him, hauling him back up and depositing him safely on the floor.
“Nice catch, Itachi,” he smirks, then gets right back to the task at hand, Hidan's unhinged laughter serving as a fitting backdrop to the chaos.
Soon after that is blessed, blessed silence.
Lae’zel takes a seat on Ragzlin’s corpse, wiping a smear of blood from her face and looking pleased with herself. She tears a scrap of cloth from one of the goblins’ corpses, using it to wipe her blade clean.
Not so much as a twitch from any of the defeated.
All there is now is their heavy breathing, and the drip drip drip of blood from the corpses hanging from various fixtures.
Gale clears his throat, holding out a handkerchief in Itachi's direction.
"You've got a little, uh- something on your face, there."
Itachi squints, then realizes that he's had blood pouring from his eyes for the last few minutes.
He takes the offering and mops it up as best he can, though it's not nearly enough.
"...Oh. Thank you."
Gale looks equal measures concerned and horrified.
"Does that...happen often?"
"From time to time. It's nothing to worry about."
“Job well done, eh?” Hidan laughs.
“More or less, I guess.” Karlach replies. “All that’s left is whoever’s outside.”
“I thank you for this, my friends,” Halsin says, allowing himself to smile. “It is a heavy burden, but I am glad it is not one I had to bear alone.”
Orochimaru isn’t really paying attention, walking instead toward the dead mind flayer which, somehow, has still been left untouched where it was laid out.
Astarion peers over his shoulder, frowning.
“What are you doing?”
Orochimaru gives a half-shrug, approaching the dead mind flayer with an intent expression.
Something about the corpse calls out to him. As if the thing lying limp on the filthy stone floor wishes to…speak?
He holds his hand out toward it.
The words come to him as naturally as anything- in a language he has never spoken before, but which he speaks as though he’s known it all his life.
“ Cum mortuis in lingua mortua .”
Strange runes that are both familiar and totally alien to him appear in a sickly green, hovering just above the dead mind flayer.
A faint light the same eerie color of the runes illuminates the creature’s glassy eyes, and the corpse regards him lifelessly.
This mind flayer looks oddly familiar, but at first he can’t put his finger on why.
As he ponders it, realization dawns upon him.
He has seen this particular mind flayer before.
On the nautiloid. When he had first been kidnapped, he had encountered it.
This had been the one who placed the tadpole on his face, when he was paralyzed and unable to so much as squirm in discomfort as the little creatures forced its way into its eye socket. Judging by the discomfort sweeping through the rest of the group, he isn’t the only one.
“Why did your kind take us?” he asks.
The creature answers- not in words, but in thoughts.
Scores of mind flayers, standing in neat rows, tentacled heads all turned in the same direction. Facing a giant, pulsating brain-like structure that towers over them. Thick tendrils surround the fleet of mind flayers, and they all bow in the utmost reverence.
Their leader. Their everything.
Their Elder Brain.
He sees endless pools of caustic brine- nurseries. Hatcheries.
The Grand Design.
The crowning glory of the illithid empire, which has been crippled for generations.
Orderly. Peaceful. Beautiful.
Orochimaru shakes his head, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand.
“Why did you infect us with these parasites?” he asks next.
Again, he is answered, not in word, but in thought.
He sees the illithid’s clawed hand, with a young tadpole nestled within it.
A small bundle of endless potential.
The key to overcoming the weakness of lesser species. To replace their corruptible flesh and weaker minds with sharper wits and a beautiful new form.
No. Not a parasite. Perfection.
Fascinating. Horrifying, but fascinating.
“What is the Absolute?” he asks next.
The creature remains silent- it does not know.
So. It seems the illithids may not be as in control of this situation as they believe. Perhaps the plot is thicker than he thought.
It’s getting harder to maintain his link to this dead mind flayer, so he pushes through to his next question.
“What was your kind running from in Avernus?”
More images.
Githyanki on giant, winged dragons, flying in hot pursuit of the nautiloid, shouting in their native tongue, hot blasts of fire and lightning bursting from the dragons’ mouths.
He shares the visions through their parasites, and Lae’zel perks up.
“They must be near if they were chasing the ship,” she says. “And dragon riders, no less.”
She’s probably right. Maybe that’s a good thing.
Or maybe it’s dangerous.
He feels his connection slip a little further. He knows he doesn’t have a lot more time to speak.
“How did you capture us from our world?” he asks, somehow knowing it will be his final question.
More images, though a bit fuzzy as the spell’s power starts to wane.
Back on the nautiloid, floating in an endless sea of stars.
A yawning, pitch-black chasm opens up within the vast expanse, the world going blurry all around them. It’s stomach-churning, dizzying, but none of the other illithids seem fazed by it.
They are deposited into a vast, thick jungle that is far too familiar.
Then, oddly enough-
He sees himself.
He wonders if he’s always looked that tired, examining a map before looking up at the sky to make sure he’s headed in the right direction, then squinting at a mysterious light amongst the stars.
-Exactly what he had been doing in the instant before he had woken up in this new world.
Then, again, the scenery shifts to a snowy mountain setting, where Hidan is shoving his partner while shouting, though the words cannot be heard. The pair abruptly look up at the sky, at the bright light that suddenly pierces the clouds.
And once again, to a quiet inn, where Itachi is huddled up under a blanket, leaning against Kisame and staring at a flickering candle while his partner tends to his beloved weapon.
The boy looks out the window with glassy, dark eyes, brow furrowed, having seen the strange light too.
The connection breaks, like a string suddenly cut. The corpse goes limp once more, and he can ask no more questions.
“Hm.”
The eerie silence is broken when Hidan clears his throat.
“Hey how’d you fuckin’ do that?”
“...I’m not quite sure.”
“It was the book!” Basket giggles. “The book has lots of secrets- it can teach Master lots more than that if you can find out how to get it!”
Interesting. He’ll have to poke around that book a bit later.
There are other matters on his mind now, though. And far more pressing ones at that.
“It seems as though these…creatures,” Orochimaru says, kicking the dead illithid with a contemptuous sneer, “are our ticket back to our own world.”
“If we can find one that’ll cooperate with us,” Kisame adds, scratching his head with the handle of his new hammer. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll be happening.”
Halsin looks confused, but gathers enough to somewhat understand.
“I apologize that we are lacking in answers,” he says. “Let us return to the grove- we have much to discuss, and much more still to do. But for now, you’ve earned a good rest.”
Orochimaru puts his hands on his hips, looking around to survey the carnage.
“I’d say a job well done deserves that much- not to mention, you have a talk to have with our little friend, Kagha. She almost fed a child to a snake, after all.”
Halsin pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh.
“I know. I will admit, I left in a hurry and didn’t think things through. It is not entirely her fault.”
Something about this man’s demeanor- the humility, the contrition, the way his broad shoulders sag under the weight of his guilt-
-Orochimaru hates it.
He hates it with a violence that he didn’t think was possible.
His fingers twitch with the desire to wrap around that man’s neck and throttle the light out of those obnoxiously friendly hazel eyes of his, to stifle the emotions stirring up in his heart that he thought he smothered years ago.
His ill temper doesn’t go unnoticed, unfortunately.
“Are you quite alright, my friend?” Halsin asks, approaching him with a hand raised like he wants to check his forehead for a fever.
“Never been better,” Orochimaru lies, swatting his hand away. “And I am not your friend, thank you very much.”
Halsin’s face falls, looking like a puppy who’s been harshly scolded. Orochimaru pushes past him to catch up with the others, feeling like he’ll snap if he speaks to the man any further.
Time to get back to the grove- Zevlor will be relieved to know their problem is solved, no doubt.
“I suppose this means we’re the saviors of that charming little grove,” Astarion remarks, wrapping his arms around himself to banish the chill as the adrenaline of battle fades.
“If doing something for selfish reasons makes one a savior, yes.”
“You seem like you’ve seen your fair share of fights in your life- I assume at least some of them would be self-serving.”
Orochimaru nods, pulling out the bottle of wyvern toxin and holding it up to admire the way it turns iridescent in the torchlight.
"Let's take care of the rest of these goblins, shall we?" he asks.
A glint of mischief in his eyes, Astarion claps his hands together in glee.
"Darling, I thought you'd never ask. Lead on."