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Trudging through the Underdark is no walk through the park in the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. Even a casual stroll warrants a discreetly sheathed dagger or strung bow.
“We need those mushrooms for the alchemy table, and Petras said to watch out for the-“
“Watch out for the beholder, yes I know darling.” Astarion sighed over Foxglove’s very reasonable paranoia.
“You do remember we beat the Netherbrain? We defeated the chosen of those blasted three.” Astarion huffed.
“Yes I remember.” Foxglove sighed. “But you-“
“You can never be too careful… And I agree love, I do. But all we’re doing is foraging for some mushrooms and herbs.” Astarion shrugged.
Foxglove kept her thoughts to herself as they searched around their usual spots with no luck. They kept straying further and further from their little corner of safety.
“Gods how much have we gone through since we moved down here?” Astarion leans his palm against a tree as they stop for a moment.
“More than I thought, apparently.” The wood elf remarked as she scanned the horizon for anything. No dice. “I don’t believe we’ve ever gone out this far.” She adds after a pause.
“No, we haven’t.” The pale elf treads alongside an irritated Foxglove.
She hasn’t seen the sun in maybe three tendays, she is well overdue to feel the warmth of the surface on her leaf-green skin. The only things keeping her together are the books they found in the library of the fortress, the poorly tuned harp she plays for the children, and a rough little shrine she created to pray to Solonar to help guide her. She hasn’t had the luxury of engaging in any of those things lately, a large group of spawn came back wounded- some were missing and couldn’t be found. Her and Astarion have been at their wit’s end trying to find them, only to rescue 3 out of the 7 missing from a duergar camp.
Astarion tries his best to keep her spirits high, he is indifferent to the dark and usually embraces it- as long as it isn’t an enclosed dark space. But he knows the Underdark for a wood elf of all people isn’t really what she thinks of as “home”. He’s been working hard trying to give Foxglove time to visit the surface- him included. When thousands of lives are in your hands it is hard to walk away easily, even if just for a few days.
Foxglove grumbles to herself in a wood elf dialect Astarion still struggles to understand, all he knows is that it is probably a prayer to Solonar for guidance.
Roughly an hour passes as the two look for a good mushroom colony. What little colonies they do find are dangerous ones, or edible colonies that Foxglove picks a few of. What they truly need is to find noblestalk for emergencies.
“Aren’t you sick of eating mushrooms all the time?” Astarion helps Foxglove pick a few bluecaps to be ground into bread later.
“No,” The wood elf replied with clearly more important matters on her mind. “Aren’t you sick of drinking the same type of blood constantly?”
“I don’t have much of a choice, you know that.” The pale elf rolled his crimson eyes as he recounted all his past meals. Tasteful blood is hard to come by. “Of course I’m never tired of yours…” He creeps up to Foxglove as she shovels the last of the bluecaps in her pack.
“You’re undead, you can stop breathing down my neck.” She stands up and begins walking again, keeping herself distanced from the spawn.
The spawn grumbles as he takes the hint and carefully follows her. “I’m just trying to make you feel better, make you feel less alone down here.”
Foxglove plants her soles in the ground and swivels to meet her undead lover’s eyes. Her eyes are tired and frustrated.
“I know I’m not alone.” Her stare burns through him.
“Oh of course you aren’t. Especially now that we have company.” Astarion points beyond the wood elf to the giant beholder staring them down from a distance.
“Shut it. We gotta hide, I'm not in the mood for killing.” Foxglove snarls back at the witty elf.
“Well I always am.” He smirks back before Foxglove shoves him with more force than she anticipated.
The two silently run away from the beholder, trying to lose its sights on them. A shallow cave presents them with an opportunity to hide.
Panting, Foxglove sits down in the only spot not covered in mushrooms. Astarion joins her and hands her a canteen of water which she begins to chug.
“What’s a stroll through the Underdark without a little bit of horror? I find it quite-” Astarion begins another unserious comment before the two are teleported away from the dank mushroom cave. Swirls of fey magic cover the two like blankets and in a flash they are standing somewhere entirely different.
“How the fuck did I miss we sat in a fey circle.” Foxglove looked back at the circle they stepped out of.
The two landed in a lair. Definitely a hag lair. Damp mildew and the stench of everything that could possibly rot assaulted her nose.
“By the nine hells.” Foxglove groaned before covering her nose with her shirt.
“Smells like home to me.” Astarion stood with his hip popped out, analyzing the room for anything to possibly steal. He carefully stepped towards the rotting chests to loot.
“Act fast, if this hag is still living she definitely knows we’re here.” Foxglove crouched down and raised her guard as Astarion rummaged about in one of the chests.
“Well look at you being sensible for a change…” Astarion pulled out several elixirs and set them in his bag. He went for the next chest as fast as his body let him.
“Please hurry. Two of us isn’t enough to deal with a hag.” The wood elf hissed.
His quick pale fingers filtered through the disgusting items in the chest. Bones, skulls, old dried mushrooms… This seemed like a dead end until he found something massive being hidden at the bottom.
“Foxie, we struck gold.” The pale elf whispered excitedly. With clattering hollow clunks of bones and skulls he heaved out a full noblestalk mushroom in his arms like a newborn babe. Foxglove’s face lit up as she gasped. She opened an empty bag to store it in and they began their run to the fey circle.
A swampy flash of green appeared in the other corner of the room as they stood at the circle waiting to leave.
“Seems like someone didn’t want to come through the front door…” A scratching haggard voice called out.
“Fuck.” Foxglove froze up as she waited for the circle to take her back. The swirling fey magic filled her senses once more as they teleported back to the small cave.
“Oh bollocks.” The hag screeched as she made her way to the circle.
The two were back in the cave in no time at all. Foxglove frantically started to kick the mushroom circle as Astarion followed suit. The magic expelled from the mushrooms almost sounded like a deflated scream, which only heightened Foxglove’s panic more. They ran out of the cave without a second thought and Astarion hurled some cantrips at the mouth of the cave, causing it to close up. Foxglove fumbled through her scrolls in her bag while swearing in elven. Her shaky hands unraveled a beaten scroll and uttered some words, producing a glyph of warding in front of the rabble. The fiery orange glow of the ward faded after a minute. Astarion handed her the canteen of water again.
“That was close.” Foxglove’s breath was shaking.
“I assume we make a run for home now?” Astarion nodded towards the cave.
“Yes. We pray that blasted beholder doesn’t show up now-”
As if being summoned, the beholder’s cry can be heard in the distance. The two looked at each other and exchanged glances that told each other that it was time to run. Astarion grabbed her hand and muttered the words to a spell, turning them both invisible. They sprinted as fast as they could.