Oriana had just murdered a bard friend and now the group she travelled with was quite horrified with her. Cautious glances, subtle glares, hands hovering ever-so-close to their weapons.
Except Astarion. He seemed more amused than anything. Maybe she could confide in him. Later. Maybe.
For now it was time to continue onwards, despite the air of distrust hovering over the group.
They came upon a broken, abandoned village inhabited by goblins... goblins who were more than happy to let them pass, as they recognised the touch of the Absolute about the group.
Oriana was growing more and more curious. Just what was the 'Absolute' and why did all these people think she was a 'True Soul'?
In the village was a shattered apothecary with a hidden cellar. Deep inside the hidden cellar was a secret room that felt oh-so-familiar.
The owner of this place had been attempting necromancy, playing with life and death as though t'were but a trifling matter. Staring at the skeletal remains lying on an altar, she realised — she had been here before. She knew it in her bones. And these bones that sat before her.
After retrieving the treasure of the cellar — a cursed book — they continued to explore the abandoned village. At one point they busted in on an ogre having quite the raunchy adventure... Oriana was delighted! So was Astarion! He whipped open the door and strode in to watch them, and Oriana followed close behind to take note of every detail.
Such an encounter would sell well back in the city.
Embarrassed by the thought of their tryst being written on parchment, a story to be told forevermore, the duo hurriedly left.
On the other side of the raunchy ogre's lair was a windmill where a group of goblins were having far too much fun. Oriana was curious and stated that she wanted to watch the fun with them, but they wouldn't have it — and for some reason, she was unable to control this lot. Perhaps she could only do it once every so often...
Alas, she had to kill them all. Oh dear. Then, of course, she had to pose with their dead bodies... much to Gale's chagrin.
Exhausted after the long day, the group made camp beneath the village blacksmith. Shadowheart confessed to Oriana that she was a Shar worshipper. Oriana didn't really care — being a Shar worshipper was nothing compared to being a murderer who couldn't remember her own kills.
Oriana couldn't sleep. All she could think of was that lovely little bard girl... and then, a strange man appeared. A goblin of some sort? She didn't know. But he seemed to know her.
He claimed to be her butler and had been searching for her for some time now. He then gave her a gift — a majestic cloak. She tried to pry answers from him. He knew who she was!! But he would not divulge what he knew. It was forbidden, or so he said.
The whole encounter only left her with more questions about herself.
With their rest over with no other incidents, they abandoned the abandoned village and followed the trail of goblin-kind.
Just over a bridge was an encampment in an old temple, and the sound of goblin revelry travelled towards them with ease. They were partying! The laughter was loud and even over the distance the conversation was clearly audible. They spoke of capturing themselves a bard, of chasing chickens, and of... brutalising a bear? The 'Halsin' they were searching for?
Thanks to the control they could exert over the goblins, they were let through towards the temple with no murder or mayhem. Oriana was faintly disappointed.
Then — pandemonium.
No sooner had they reached the bridge that would take them to the centre of the goblin-camp, a force took them over. It pushed them to the ground. Forced them prostrate. Took over their thoughts and made demands. It was seeking the people who had fled the crashed Mindflayer ship. It was seeking a weapon they possessed.
As though on cue, the strange artifact Shadowheart held broke free from her grasp and floated above them... protecting them... removing the presence that tried to exert itself over them.
Shadowheart had no idea why it did that — she didn't even know what it was! Just that she needed to get it safely back to the city.
Despite the questions, questions and more questions, they had no choice but to continue on. In the camp they came across the bard who had been at the Grove, captured for the goblin's entertainment.
And then, much to her own entertainment, Gale consumed a magical shoe.
He said that it was to sate something within him, but Oriana had her suspicions that he was simply addicted to magic. Typical wizard.
Inside the goblin-infested temple, they learnt that there were three leaders under this roof. A goblin, a drow, and a hobgoblin. The goblin was very friendly, very welcoming... Oriana almost wanted to stay, to join the goblins...
But then one thing led to another and the goblin leader soon lay dead on the floor of her own chambers. This time everyone approved of her murder. Oriana guessed it wasn't the act that mattered, but the who.
The hypocrites.
They quietly left the room and shut the door behind them, hoping no one would notice.
A whipping sound drew Oriana to another room in the temple. There, a man whipped himself into submission, clearly enjoying the pain he inflicted upon himself.
He offered to whip Oriana. To allow her peace through pain, and if she was lucky his goddess would bless her.
Astarion and Shadowheart cheered, whilst Gale shook his head. "Whatever floats your boat," he said, while Astarion giggled to Shadowheart, "Did you think she'd be into this!?" "No!" Shadowheart laughed, "But I'm enjoying the show!"
Oriana yelled for the man to deliver more pain. More. MORE PAIN. Until finally, he thanked her for her most glorious pain tolerance and blessed her with a gift from his goddess, Loviatar.
She didn't feel much different.
Perhaps it was one of those blessings that only manifested during combats. Being the Goddess of Pain, perhaps Loviatar had blessed her with more power when she had suffered much.
For now though, she did feel at peace. Whether it lasted or not was a different matter.
Until next time!!