It had been two days since Gale had disclosed his dark secret, and Tav had decided she preferred the enigmatic stranger to the apparent ‘open-book’ he had turned into. Now that everything was clearly laid out, it was as though the flood banks had burst and the constant stream of references to being Mystra’s chosen was wearing Tav thinner by the hour.
The two of them had been tasked with finding an appropriate location for their merry band to set up camp, as last time Astarion had lumped them alarmingly close to a pack of Gnolls. His scouting privileges had since been rescinded, and instead he had been demoted to foraging duty with Wyll - to the vampire’s loud and dramatic disappointment. This left Tav to navigate the nearby woodland alongside the insufferable wizard to try and find a suitable resting spot.
“There was this one particularly riveting occasion, where Mystra twisted the weave into an exceptionally elaborate piece of magic which allowed me to pleasure…
"I'm going to stop you right there," Tav declared, halting in her tracks and fixing Gale with a stern gaze. She folded her arms across her chest, her expression blazing with disapproval. "I do not want to hear any more disturbing stories about you and your... mother of all magic," she emphasised, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. She couldn't bear to entertain any more of his unsettling anecdotes.
"Envy is a predictable response from a devoted cleric such as yourself," he continued, his tone dripping with condescension. His casual demeanour contradicted the gravity of his situation, an arrogance unbefitting someone carrying a self-assembled bomb in their chest. "But I wouldn't expect you to grasp the complexity and intensity of our relationship."
“Listen wizard” Tav retorted “I serve with appropriate devotion. I am not blighted with the arrogance of believing I should be entangled with the deity who decides my fate and guides my hand”
He laughed in a pitying kind of way which made her want to rip out his stupid little earring. “She was more than my deity, she was my lover.”
“There is no ‘more’ than a deity.” Tav sighed in frustration, determined to end the conversation and talk of it no longer. Gale was a man lost. She was bound on a journey with a vampire, a Sharran amnesiac, an extinguishing barbarian, a tortured Warlock, and Lae’zel - who quite frankly was a breath of fresh, albeit sharp, air compared to the others.
Gale was the biggest challenge of them all. At least Astarion, the vampire spawn, was transparent in his values, a quality Tav could begrudgingly respect. Self-serving, untrusting, and manipulative, Astarion possessed qualities Tav, with her decades of clerical service to the downtrodden, could navigate. She had faced the darkest corners of humanity, offering healing and support to the most burdened and jaded souls society had cast aside. Dealing with Astarion was familiar territory.
Gale was… complex at best and a dangerous hypocrite at worst. While he professed a deep-seated value for kindness and the safeguarding of the vulnerable, his path was often clouded by impulsive decisions and an overbearing sense of self-importance. In him, Tav glimpsed the flicker of greatness which he seemed determined to extinguish. He could be a beacon of light, if only he wasn’t obscured by the fog of his self-delusion.
"I could delve into exquisite detail about the intricacies of our romantic entanglement, but I wouldn't want to overstimulate your senses," Gale's smug smile returned, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. "So, I'll leave it to your somewhat limited imagination, shall I?"
Tav tilted her head ever so slightly, a gesture laden with subtle disdain, and let out a dramatic exhale. “Yes, what an arousing thought. One of countless wizards plucked and discarded by Mystra. A drop in an infinite ocean. How impressive you must have been.”
Gale's pride remained unshaken "I was quite impressive, actually. In various aspects. The youngest chosen in a century..." he bragged, his blind arrogance failing to grasp the heavy undertone of exploitation in his admission. It made Tav feel sick. “That was before I was cast aside and abandoned, obviously.”
“Tough was it? Moping around on your sunlit balcony in the city of splendours, caged in a luxurious prison of your own making?” Her mind wandered back to her days in the lower city of Baldur's Gate, where poverty was an ever-present spectre. There, her sanctuary had been anything but opulent—a humble cleric's tent nestled in the harbour, among the downtrodden and destitute.
While others struggled in the comforts of their gilded towers, Tav laboured tirelessly amidst the suffering and hardship of the masses. Her hands, calloused from endless toil, offered solace where there was none. Exhaustion had been her constant companion, born of the ceaseless tide of poverty that swept daily into her little tent. Some she could aid, yes, with her limited skills and the grace bestowed upon her. Yet, for many, the damage ran deeper than flesh wounds, and her healing incantations were mere whispers against the roar of their suffering.
How vividly she remembered those penniless urchins, the spark in their eyes smothered by the weight of their burdens. She recalled the heart-wrenching sight of a child slipping away in the grasp of a grieving mother unwilling to let go. In that moment, she was not just a healer, but a bearer of sorrow, tasked with the duty of ushering a fragile soul into the afterlife.
As Gale raised his finger, poised to deliver what Tav anticipated would be yet another vexing remark, the murmur of voices drifted toward them. With swift determination, Gale ushered her behind the shelter of a nearby tree, their bodies pressed close to conceal themselves from prying eyes. His back against the rough bark, he drew her against him to minimise their silhouette against the midday sun.
Tav couldn't stifle her yelp as she found herself with Gale’s arm around her waist. His hand swiftly covered her mouth, preventing any further noise she might have made, eliciting from her a muffled protest that manifested as a defiant 'hmph'. Gale couldn't help but give a low chuckle at her discomfort.
Tav tried to focus on what the approaching voices were saying, but her thoughts were muddied by how soft the skin of his hand was against her lips. This spoiled magician had obviously never done a hard day's labour in his life, everything about him seemed to get her riled up. What a frustrating, arrogant, soft, lavender scented…
She lost her train of thought as the voices became clearer.
“...hidden it away from camp. Don’t fink she trusts the others not to f*ck about with it.”
“I don’t even know why we sh*ttin’ bothered. It’s just a bit of wood shaped like an old man. Betcha couldn’t even bash someone over the head with it.”
“It’s not for bashing, you mush-minded lump. It’s for f*ckin’ with the druids. Those animal-wankers will be all over the place with their precious idol gone. And now Mistress Minthara knows where the grove is, it will be easier to kill ‘em all. I can’t wait to tell her.”
“She won’t f*ck you, you know. She’s some kind of Drow princess, and you smell like sh*t.”
Gale’s breathing had quickened at Tav’s ear, surely he wasn’t scared of a couple of Goblins?
So, the Drow had figured out the location of the grove. It was inevitable really, Goblin search parties had been increasing by the day and with the added pressure of the Tiefling refugees, the sanctuary of the glade was becoming more and more difficult to keep hidden.
" We need to question them, " With a deft flex of her tadpole connection, Tav probed her thoughts into Gale's. Each time she delved into his mind, it felt oddly intimate, a sensation amplified by their current proximity—her back pressed against his chest, his hand firmly covering her mouth.
“Ok, let me - i’m much more capable at the art of negotiation than…”
“No. I'll do it. You’ll just piss them off.”
His hand dropped from Tav’s mouth, and she turned to glare at him. His pupils were wide, and breathing still heavy. His eyes seemed to flicker over her face and settled for a brief moment on her lips. The close contact and the heat of the day must have been addled her brain, she thought to herself.
Quickly and quietly she rummaged through her backpack, and pulled out a leather dog collar and a bunch of rope the group had found earlier. Tav had been saving it for Scratch, but she was very much going to enjoy putting it to a different use.
“Put this on.”
“Excuse me?” Gale held the collar up to study and his distaste was clear in her mind “I am an infamous, educated, revered…”
“You’re a whiny prick. Now put it on.”
He grumbled intelligibly to himself as he fiddled with the strap around his neck. The leather pressed tightly around his tanned skin, and the small silver tag sat pretty in the hollow of his throat. Tav made a small sound of smug satisfaction at the sight of him, and the silver tag bobbed tellingly in response. She then bound his hands with the rope, and tightened it just a little more than was necessary. She was surprised that didn’t complain, the only noise between the two of them were his increasingly heavy breaths. He must be nervous, Tav thought.
It only took a couple of seconds for Tav to cast a quick spell to change her appearance to that of a dark-skinned under-elf, and Gale quickly picked up on her plan.
“Oh for the love of…” he exclaimed out loud.
“Who’s there, show yourself!” The slightly larger Goblin pointed its spear in their direction, and Tav took pleasure in pushing Gale out from their hiding place, before she swaggered out behind him.
“Oh! A drow! In the sunlight?” The Goblins looked at each other in confusion, surely only a True Soul could bear to be in this blistering daylight without any discomfort?
“And here I was thinking Goblin heads are just full of flies.” Tav sneered at the two of them.
“Why were you ‘iding behind that tree?” The Goblin did not lower its spear.
“Ah, there’s that tell-tale buzzing noise of gnats in an empty skull, or maybe it’s just because of your pungent scent.” Tav’s voice dripped with as much venom as she could muster, and Gale did his best not to turn his head to glare at her. “I was not hiding. I was allowing my recently-caught slave to grant me pleasure. It’s a warm day and I needed him to lick the sweat off me.” At those words, Gale seemed to shift a little on his feet. Tav revelled in the fact she was making him uncomfortable.
"I've been sent by Minthara to check up on you. She said you useless cretins were taking longer than expected. She does not like to be kept waiting." Tav took a leaf out of Gale's book and tried her best to mimic the arrogant lilt that brushed his voice when he talked about being Mystra's chosen.
“Oh.. do not fear your excellency, your loveliness, your dark majesty… we have completed our task! We buried the idol good and proper…” The Goblin bowed low in deference.
“You buried it?! Out in the wilderness, where there are Gnolls and other wild animals clawing around for scraps?”
“We are good at burying fings! Bozza here buried her whole family last week.”
“That’s awful..” Gale’s reaction was instinctive, and Tav gave him a sharp shove in the back as a punishment.
“Not really, I was the one what killed ‘em”, Bozza shrugs.
“Oh..”
“Silence, pet.” Tav pressed her foot to the back of one of Gale’s knees, causing him to drop to the ground. “You speak when I allow it.”
Gale grimaced, he was going to be unbearable after this.
“Good boy.” Tav purred. She could swear she noticed him shudder slightly at her words. Excellent, maybe this would knock him down a peg or two.
Before Tav could delve further into her interrogation of the goblins, a sudden thwack cut through the air, and a well-aimed arrow found its mark, striking Bozza squarely in the forehead and snuffing her out in an instant. Startled, Tav barely had time to react before two more arrows whistled through the air. One found its mark through the second goblin's eye socket, while the other veered slightly off course, embedding itself in Tav's shoulder with searing pain.
"f*ck!" Tav exclaimed, the agony of the arrowhead piercing her flesh causing her concentration to falter, her disguise fading back to her usual appearance as she crumpled to the ground.
"sh*t!" A familiar voice rang out from the nearby bushes, and Astarion and Lae'zel emerged, rushing to their aid.
"We thought Gale had been captured," Astarion explained hastily.
Gale, exasperated, raised his bound hands in frustration. "I am an exceptionally competent wizard! My knees may be a tad on the creaky side, but I can assure you I am more than capable of locating a suitable campsite without getting captured by a couple of goblins and a drow!"
“Yes, of course darling.” Astarion sneered “And that leather collar suits you quite well. A true mark of competent wizardry, wouldn't you say?" His laughter punctuated the jab as he deftly freed Gale from his bindings.
Tav's pained groan cut through their bickering, drawing their attention back to her.
"Tav requires healing, oh competent wizard," Lae'zel interjected, her voice carrying a hint of impatience. "She is fortunate it was the vampire's arrow that struck her. One of mine would have spelled her end.”
“That was your arrow!” Astarion argued.
“Chh’k” Laezel stowed her bow away and counted her remaining arrows. “Your many years have made your brain slow and your aim weak, blood-sucker. It cannot be helped. “
"Guys!" Tav's urgent interruption finally broke through their squabbling, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand.
“Go on then, chosen one. Do your thing.” Astarion waved his hand dismissively as he started rooting around the dead Goblins to see what goodies he could find. He started removing a pair of boots as Gale knelt by Tav’s side to examine the injury.
“Healing magic isn’t my forte” he admitted a little sheepishly.
“Of course it isn’t” Tav panted between strained breaths. Her vision was blurring as the pain began to overcome her senses.
“What is that supposed to mean?” His voice was coloured with offence.
“A wizard naturally blessed with control of the weave, an archmage, the chosen of the Goddess of Magic herself, and yet you never devoted any real time or effort into learning how to heal people? Why am I not surprised.”
He did not respond, just furrowed his brow as he looked through his pack to find any healing potions.
There was another rustle from the bushes, and just as Lae’zel drew back the string of her bow for another shot, Scratch appeared wagging his tail - paws dirty from digging, and with the Idol of Silvanus clutched in his jaw.
“I f*cking love this dog.” Tav exclaimed through her pain-gritted teeth. “Good boy, Scratch.”
“Do not give that to the wizard, hound” Lae’zel commanded. “He will only eat it”
Gale dropped his attention in indignation. “Firstly Lae’zel, I do not eat magical items, I absorb the strands of the weave residing within them to sate the arcane hunger of the voracious orb which resides in my chest. Secondly, I would not dare to drain away the magic of something so significant! The trinkets that have been offered so far are more than enough to… “
Pain made the anger which suddenly coursed through Tav burn hotter. “That trinket we gave you was from one of the Tiefling refugees, who soon will be out in the wilderness with barely two coins to rub together!” she snapped, and Gale at least has the decency to redden slightly.
“So, listen to me, former arch-wizard - everything we have is hard-won. A magical locket that was a gift from a family for saving the life of their child has now been sacrificed upon a dark altar of your own making. And it was just as significant to them, as that religious idol is to the druids.”
“I did not mean…”
But Tav did not get to hear the end of his protest, pain and blood loss overtook her, and the last thing she remembered was the feeling of being slung over a lavender-scented shoulder before drifting away into unconsciousness.
Tav awoke much later, the setting sun casting a soft pink glow over the Emerald Grove. The air had cooled, and the crickets began to sing their evening song. A bandage snugly covered her shoulder, and her arm was secured in a tight sling. She found herself laid out on a bedroll in the central circle of the Grove, where the Idol of Silvanus sat back in its rightful place, bathed in the fading light.
“Do not fear, all is well.” Lae’zel was sat on the ground next to her, deep in concentration sharpening a dagger. “The Idol has been returned, and the druids warned. In the morning, we must waste no more time in eradicating the goblin threat.”
Tav nodded in agreement, pain still thrumming steadily in her shoulder and head woozy from the potions she had been given.
"You've just missed Gale explaining the intricacies of the Astral plane to me," Lae'zel said through gritted teeth.
"Oh," Tav replied, her confusion evident. Partly at how that conversation must have started, but mainly at how Gale wasn't lying dismembered at her feet. "The place where you grew up and your entire race is based?"
"Yes," Lae'zel hissed as she stalked off to practice her sparring technique, no doubt with Gale's face at the forefront of her mind as she brandished her sharpened blade with warrior's devotion.
Tav eventually stood up, still feeling lightheaded but strong enough to stretch her muscles and go in search of something to eat. As she approached a simmering cookpot, she noticed Arabella the Tiefling girl sneaking around with something behind her back.
"What's that you've got there, little one?" Tav inquired, her voice gentle as she approached the child.
"Boots that make you move faster!! Aren't they cool!" Arabella's eyes sparkled with excitement as she proudly displayed the pair of boots in her hands. "The handsom—uh, I mean the wizard gave them to me to give to my parents! He told me to tell them I found them in that abandoned Harpy nest."
Tav couldn't help but smile at Arabella's enthusiasm, her heart warming at the sight of the girl's joy. Yet, Arabella's grin faltered as realisation dawned upon her. "Oh! I don't think I was meant to tell you he gave them to me either", she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," Tav assured her, placing a comforting hand on Arabella's shoulder.
Arabella dashed off to reunite with her parents, her excitement contagious as she handed over the prized boots. Tav watched with a tenderness as Arabella's mother erupted into laughter, her husband joining in as they struggled to fit the boots over her legs.
Tav scanned the room, and saw Gale sat amidst a small gathering of wide-eyed Tiefling children, his presence commanding their undivided attention. In his outstretched palm, a small purple dragon breathed delicate sparks before flitting around the heads of the mesmerised youngsters, eliciting giggles and applause. Tav couldn't help but smile at the heartwarming sight, her heart softening as she watched Gale perform for the small, awestruck faces.
As the scene unfolded, one of Mol's gang approached from behind, their intentions less than noble as they deftly detached Gale's coin purse from his robes, swiftly pocketing their ill-gotten gains. Tav tensed, ready to intervene and reclaim what was rightfully Gale's, but before she could make a move, something unexpected happened.
Behind Gale's back, a subtle wave of his hand went unnoticed by the children, yet Tav caught the faint glimmer of magic. In an instant, the purloined purse reappeared in Gale's grasp, his smile warm and genuine as he met Tav's gaze with a knowing look. A subtle wink followed, and Tav couldn't help but burst into laughter, her heart light and fluttering.
Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
