#natureswarden

[archaeval]

@natureswarden ;;

𝑹𝑼𝑩𝒀 𝑫𝑰𝑫𝑵'𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 𝑬𝑿𝑪𝑼𝑺𝑬 to escape the festivities, but she didn't wait much longer to slip off to the side of the firelight where she wouldn't be expected to dance or tell a daring, dramatized version of their foray into the goblin camp, or, worst of all, tell a joke. She ached down to her bones this late in the day, but knew it would only invite trouble if she bowed out completely.

Halsin felt like a safe target to spend least a little while with, if only because he'd already seen just how taciturn she was at the worst of times -- and, indeed, at the best -- while most of her little coterie were enjoying themselves and the company of others. "You're not going to join them?" she asked, then hesitated. "Forgive me if I ought to be using a title, of course. I was never schooled in Druid hierarchies."

Her formality was a safeguard, an easy mask to put on and keep from embarrassing herself, especially with someone so highly respected. Court life had taught her to err on the side of caution, where too much familiarity could offend, if not jeopardize her standings entirely.

[sanguinisa]

@natureswarden ;;

Nan's tail swung slowly back and forth as she approached Halsin, hands clasped primly behind her back. She looked very nearly well-behaved, which was exactly why everyone should have started worrying five minutes ago. Well-behaved meant she had an idea. Well-behaved meant there was about to be trouble. "So, Halsin," she said, oh-so-casually. "Your arms are huge." (Regrettably bigger than hers, which was only a small bruise on her ego.) "You lift trees in your free time or something?"

The way she shifted on her feet belied her intentions. Nan made no secret of her love for sparring and keeping active, usually complaining when forced to sit with nothing to do for more than a few minutes at a time, but her maul was resting against her pack a good few feet away, and the dagger strapped to her thigh was more utilitarian than anything. Yet that only said that she wasn't planning an ambush, nothing more.

[alurlssrinbled]

Continued from here with @natureswarden...

It felt a bit odd to be scolding—if it could even be called that—Halsin of all people. Not only was he well beyond the young drow’s age, but he also seemed to be quite the responsible sort. Maybe it was her own fault for assuming he could be discrete… She should have known better after their attack on the goblin camp. Perhaps she should have told him to simply remain at camp if he could not wait for back up before exposing himself…but she was no leader, and it was hardly her place to make such demands of others.

A long, slow exhale escaped the woman’s nose as she closed her eyes. An attempt to fight off her irritation before she snapped at Halsin like she would Astarion or Karlach for getting a little over-eager. " I don’t need an apology, I need you to be safe. These lands are dangerous, as I am sure you know better than anyone, and the danger is centralized here in this very town. "

And again, it wasn’t her place to scold a man who clearly was far wiser than she could imagine. But it seemed like everyone had their moments of reckless irresponsibility. She couldn’t count the amount of times she ran into danger just because her sister was in trouble… " The others can manage searching Moonrise. If you want to explore the rest of this town for answers, then I’ll go with you. " She would never assume she was anywhere near as strong as an archdruid, but she knew how useful it was to have another pair of eyes.

Faenethra took a slow inhale once again before looking up at the wood elf. " My sister is a druid, as I’m sure I’ve already mentioned. She would want this land to be free of its curse as well. So…let me help you. It matters to me. "

[perditos]

Starter for @natureswarden Basil w/ Halsin

The day had dragged into twilight, shambling and long in the tooth as the sun settled low in the cradle of the mountains. The torch light cast deep shadows in the corners of the tent, the dusty paths of the grove, on the haggard faces of grieving and exhausted tieflings. Basil crouched beside the pallet of a wounded man, arrow struck through the lower abdomen. Blood slicked er finger tips where she gripped the man's hand and murmured prayers of comfort, and assurance. Hopes that he would survive the night, the first threshold to overcome his injuries and the treatment, which had stitched his belly. There was blood, blood, blood, on her tunic, in the air, still thundering in her ears as the after tremors of battle rocked her. Blood on the faces of the wide-eyed and silent children; blood staining the rock and the hands of the druid healers, who had rescued these wearied and besieged travelers, and brought them to the safe circle of their grove. Senseless violence and pain, all to reap the harvest of this atmosphere of suffering and death and misery. In this miasma, Basil waded up to her chest.

It was by chance Basil had become involved. She had been on the road to Moonhaven in the early afternoon. Then, screaming between the trees. A caravan of tiefling refugees attacked by a rogue contingency of goblins. Basil had done what she had been called to do: protect the weak and help the suffering. This had led her all the way here, to the end of the day, at the bedsides of suffering wounded and having exhausted her entire magic supply. She was exhausted. If she could find a warm meal and a corner to sleep in, Basil would be satisfied. A brief change of not blood stained clothes would be nice too.

A shift in the space, the druids and wounded reacting to the arrival of someone out of Basil's vision. Instinct drew her up to look over her shoulder. A man, far too large for the crowded interior of the tent, had ducked under the flap. His eyes glanced over the tent then settled on her, as if he had been looking for her. He was as broad as a mountain and held himself with authority; Basil thought she had seen him among the rescuing druids. Although in the chaos it was hard to feel certain. She squeezed the hand of the man at her side and pressed to her feet.

"Do you need help?" She asked him.

[thefantasyzonemuses]

-- @natureswarden

Goblins and camp arguments were nothing new to Eden. She’d spent a few years being dispatched by various people to deal with their goblin problems, and while she was very used to being a solo traveller, she’d very quickly gotten acclimatised to travelling with other people - and all of the madness and disagreements that came with that.

And she found, surprisingly, that she didn’t mind it at all. Even if they didn’t really know eachother and were mostly sticking together as a tactical advantage, it felt good to have people who could become friends. And if all else failed, she’d always have Sir Quacks-a-lot, who’d grown very attached to her in the few years they’d been together. Almost as long as she’d been a goblin hunter, if she had to guess.

Two of them were arguing now - Gale and Astarion, over the best way to kill a goblin, and the best way to rug-pull a goblin leader - which was, oddly enough, music to her ears. If they were arguing, they were still alive, and feeling lively enough to direct their grievances towards eachother.

So, on they continued, cornering a priestess named Gut (a bit of a strange name, Eden thought, but maybe goblins just liked that sort of name convention, given how many seemed to have similar names) and killing her quietly without fuss. An attractive Drow Paladin - Minthara, apparently - was next, knocked out while her cohorts were felled where they stood.

And then, the path to the goblins’ greatest prisoner. They held a number of captives in their cells, but only one they seemed to brag about: someone named Halsin, the First Druid of the Emerald Grove. The path was easy enough. Intimidate a few guards, persuade others, and beat others into submission. All par for the course. It had been working so far, and it worked here too. The path was clear, leading into a large room with - good gods above - more goblins, surrounding some Worg pens.

There were two Worgs, quite beautiful creatures, definitely in themselves worth the trip down - and then. Oh, and then.

Held in one of the cages, a broken door dividing it from the Worgs, was what appeared to be a large brown bear. Eden’s eyes widened when she saw it - this was her first time seeing a bear in person, rather than just hearing about one, and it was beautiful. There was a sadness in its eyes, it looked lonely and confused, but it was a gorgeous beast all the same. There was a bit of blood on its fur, too. Had the goblins hurt it?

Briefly, behind her, Astarion muttered something about how he’d seen a Druid assume bear form back at the Grove, and that if there was a bear held in the same place as Halsin supposedly was, then by all logic the bear would be Halsin, but Eden wasn’t really listening. She moved to intervene with the kids throwing rocks at the poor thing, then turned towards it and tilted her head.

Her ears twitched, hooves making a soft noise in the blood as she stepped in place a few times, horns spattered red with the ongoing conquest, and she moved to check the door for any locks she could possibly pick. She’d proved surprisingly good at lockpicking so far, despite her brutish strength. Sometimes a gentle hand worked wonders.

Sir Quacks-a-lot, who’d followed her throughout the entire camp and helped blind several goblins foolish enough to try petting him, suddenly started quacking loudly, incessantly, with no end in sight - running around in circles near the exit, getting the goblins to run after him, allowing the party to gather near the bear’s prison without interference. Being a menace certainly had its perks, Eden thought, suppressing a smile.

“This feels like a stupid question, but can you understand me?” she asked the bear, keeping a careful distance between them despite the door and her curiosity. “Have you seen any of them use any sort of key? I might be able to find it and get you out.”

Her heart was thudding in her chest, pounding violently against her ribs, a side-effect of the oh-so-helpful condition she’d been born with, and the fight they’d been on for hours, but she ignored it. She wasn’t dizzy yet, she’d be fine. Probably. If she wasn’t, she’d heard of worse fates than being mauled by a bear. Like being tortured by goblins, and things of that ilk. She’d rather the bear than that.

[chasingtitans]

It's been weeks since they first started traveling on the road together, yet Keiko still finds herself adjusting to her newfound freedoms. For all the ways in which the tadpole hangs over their heads like a guillotine, for all it threatens to make them lose... she would not undo what happened to them if it meant the loss of this life. A life where she has the warmth of the sun on her face, the certainty of allies in her corner; the freedom to forge out a fighting chance at something real after a lifetime spent forced into shadow.

One of the hardest adjustments, however, has been the allowance to speak her mind. Though the threat of punishment had rarely stopped her, it now leaves her body wrought with more tension than ever before - waiting for blows she'd once had no choice but to take. It's a more difficult anxiety to bear, somehow, when they never actually land.

So though she brings no ill news, Keiko's fingers still clamp white-knuckled around the rumpled, rancid letter in her grasp. The very same letter that had sat heavy at the bottom of her bag ever since the day she'd picked it off of Priestess Gut's corpse. Halsin had wanted to help her. Help them all. Drow, hobgoblin, and goblins alike; ones already known to be a more certain threat to them than the githyanki creche they face down now is.

Why?

There's only one way to find out.

"Master Halsin?" Cautiously, Keiko lingers before the druid's tent, waiting until she's certain she isn't interrupting him before she continues. "Could I speak with you for a moment?" // @natureswarden + plotted starter!

[khaeryx]

@natureswarden sent: “Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities.”

Khaeryx chuckled, shrugging one shoulder as he handed Halsin a cup. The druid had said he'd 'no head for spirits', and so it only contained some watered down cider, but it was cool and refreshing at least.

"Perhaps they do," he agreed, turning so that he stood beside the elf, crossing his arms comfortably over his chest, "But can either of us say that we were not guilty of the same, when we were younger men?" Khaeryx looked out across the revelers, the tieflings and their adventuring comrades alike. There was likely two different songs going at once now, laughter, dancing, children playing, food and drink.

Would all here be better served going to sleep and resting up for their separate journeys in the morning? Yes, that was likely, especially considering it was now quite late. They'd been at this for hours now. But this was a merry sight.

"Zevlor will keep the tieflings on schedule in the morn, I'm quite certain. And for the rest of us... I think we'll all need a day of rest tomorrow, including yourself."

[myheartisablaze]

Starter for 🐻ིྀ @natureswarden 🍃༄ !!

The devil and the druid both took rest on a rock beside the flourishing river near camp. The nature and fresh air was a peaceful and welcomed change from all the fighting. It sure beat the smell of ash and brimstone. Karlach was ignited with excitement this morning and it certainly showed ; she had the giddiest of expressions on her face. She couldn't wait to catch something. ❝ Right. Got my gear, ❞ She readied her pole that she bought from a trader the previous day. ❝ --got my bait, ❞ A pouch full of worms. ❝ --that's everything, I'd imagine! ❞ She lived for moments like these. She appreciated them, no matter how small they were.

The tiefling found herself lost in thought. She felt robbed of her youth and her relationship with her parents. They were gone too quick, and it hurt her to know that she couldn't have done anything about it while she was gone. ❝ My father wanted to take me fishing, but . . . ❞ She paused, breaking her gaze with Halsin to look at the rising sun on the horizon, an image of her father's face tinting her mind. She could never forget those horns of his ; unruly, chipped. Just like hers. She nearly choked on her words, but hid it well, ❝ --he never got the chance. ❞ She sighed heavily, watching the fish leap in and out of the stream.

❝ --Thanks, Halsin. This means a lot to me. ❞