FREEDOM | Astarion

| act one: 3 |

Descending from the high ground, you pulled your greatsword from your hip and used the momentum of running down to swing it smoothly by your ankle to slice up the back of the nearest goblin. A fine line of blood followed your cut as swung the blade into the air, only to allow gravity to drag the weight of the steel down onto the creature's startled skull. You did not take the time to admire the cloven goblin, noticing ahead that some of the goblins had turned around and were aiming their bows at your companions. An arrow struck one of the goblins aiming for you, a sleek arrow that was streamline in the little breeze, Shadowheart was making use of the high ground.

Astarion was no where to be seen you realised suddenly as you rolled to the side and thrust your blade at another of the cheeky little goblins. You hoped that was a good sign. Lae'zel deftly sprinted past you, her movements were fluid, smooth as if the goblins were but butter to her swords. Not a jutter from cutting through any bone, nor sign of her even so much as putting a toe in the wrong position. Ahead, you could see another druid be shot down by a goblin ranger who was well-hidden somewhere in the shrubbery above you, perhaps Shadowheart's crossbow would find its target in the sneaky thing.

A low groan from the gate stole your attention, Zevlor was lifting it himself now. Cautious to the remaining goblins, possibly hopeful from the new additions to the fight. The goblins were retreating, several of them carried a tall figure... a druid! You ran for the back of the group, but as you lifted your sword an arrow shot just past your foot. Turning round, you found one of the goblins who had dared take you on. Greedy at how close the goblin was to you, your feet shifted as you stepped toward it and with a long swing of your sword, you met the goblin's legs as it made a pathetic attempt to run away. Still, it grinned at you, like they were pleased. It wasn't until you heard the cry of the druid that the goblins carried that you realised your mistake- you'd allowed yourself to be distracted.

They had carried him far down the road now and were turning around the corner. Reluctantly, you began to back up towards the gate and hurried under with those who remained from the fight. Mere moments after you had crossed the threshold of the gate did you hear the latest commotion, an argument between the tiefling Zevlor and one of the druids.

"There are children here! You led them straight to us, Aradin-" Zevlor started at the man.
"We were running for our lives!" Aradin protested.
"And you let them take the druid too! Unbelievable!"

Gauging the tension between them, and noting the fact they were not yet closing the gate as they were so wrapped up in their fight, you stepped in.
"One fight just ended, and now you're picking another? The both of you should relax."
Zevlor looked up at you, but he only shook his head mournfully.

"Tell that to the dead at the gate."

"Shut it, horns! I'd be lying dead at the gate if you'd stalled any longer!" Aradin, the druid, snapped back at him, pointing a finger at the tiefling as if he wished to stab it into his yellow eyes.

"My duty, is this camp!"

"Oh God forbid you should risk your precious tail. But I shouldn't be surprised. Foulbloods ain't known for their courage."

Perhaps the druid had forgotten it was Zevlor who ultimately saved them too. You looked to the tiefling, who's jaw was clenched as his hands curled into fists. Aradin looked as ready to strike him too, the gate still was not shut. "Stop this! Your fight will not bring back your dead, and such foul language towards another is never to be justified. Mark my words, your generalised attitudes, druid, will earn you a fight you are not prepared for." The tone to your voice was one you had hoped to not use yet in front of your new companions. It was that of a commander, of a leader's- someone who had seen enough of petty fights, it intimidated them enough to back off from one another, and Aradin didn't dare so much as look at Zevlor funnily while still within your reach. The druid stormed off instead, clearly biting his tongue until he was out of range.