#double moth

There were a lot of thoughts going very rapidly through the tiefling's mind.

Lae'zel was rushing forward, letting out a half-hissed half-roared "HTAK'A!" as she brandished a greatsword. Briefly, they blinked. That was the sword she had picked off the ground of the nautiloid. Had it just ignited into flames?!

From above the gate, a horn sounded, and they felt suddenly stronger. There was no time to look to see who had blown the horn, not yet.

True to their word, from the top of the hill, came two cries of "IGNIS" followed by two fiery arrows that shot down upon a goblin like…like…something that wasn't coming to their mind. Behemoth hadn't realized how much their amnesia would interfere with things like…

What was it. RIGHT. Simile.

A less ignited arrow soon followed the two, but this one flew quicker, more precise. In fact, they barely noticed it before it struck a goblin through the neck, and they fell, choking on their own blood. Then there were words they couldn't make out…but judging by the look of pain on the hobgoblin's face, they sure could. The man who had descended from the cliffs had magic course from his body when another goblin tried to come close.

And though they tried to cling onto who cast what, all they could see was the blood. Red, sputtering out of the dead goblin's neck. Crimson, being coughed up from the mouth of the one who had been insulted. Cauterizing burns upon the flesh of one, dying skin on another. It was so…

Behemoth started laughing, before rushing forward and skewering the coughing-blood goblin through the chest. They barely registered half the words they were saying. Prophet of the end. Path paved in bone. None of these words had a clear origin, but the pulsing in their mind and darkening edges of their vision were clear as…day.

Slash. Hack. Dash. Break that one's skull against the rock once, twice, three times. Had he already been dead? It didn't matter.

Pierce that one through the chest with the rapier. Crimson looked so beautiful against the gold of its hilt. An insult came out of their mouth, scrambled and garbled, directed toward a goblin coming at them. The words were meant to hurt. Instead, they just got momentary confusion.

Vaguely, they felt a song weave its way into their ears. A song? No, that didn't matter either—

"Teeth-ling."

Someone's hand was on their shoulder. That voice. Hissy and growly and raspy, but firm. Lae'zel. For a moment, they were broken out of the rapid-fire thoughts. They felt blood drip down their face, over the clothing they wore, down their arms, over their chest, everywhere. Was it just the blood that was making their limbs feel so heavy? Blinking, they turned to look at her. Her expression wasn't quite concerned. More, well, irritated.

"Your passion is admirable, but you're being too reckless."

Right. Behemoth opened their mouth, and realized it felt dry. "Thanks-" the words came out like salt. The moment she let them be, their thoughts would go rapid-fire again. It wasn't as if they could ask her to keep a hold of them, though, she didn't seem to be that type of person. As her hand slipped from their shoulder, they sighed.

"A warrior's favour." she said, acknowledging their thanks. Those would be the last words they'd hear for a while, they suspected.

Their thoughts were soon proven wrong by something glass being thrown into them, shattering.

…Ow?

…

But not???

Momentary pain was soon replaced by a feeling of relief. It was like the feeling of catching your breath, but multiplied. Things were…calmer, now. There was time. Behemoth looked over to the source of the throw.

It was the man from earlier. He gave them a smile and nod, before rushing off to deal with another goblin. They shook out their head. All of a sudden, their body felt a bit less heavy. Once again, a song seemed to wash over them. This time, they turned to see where the song had come from. Athmoth, of course, was the answer. They didn't seem to notice Behemoth looking at them. All that seemed to matter, in that moment, was the magic that coursed through the melodies they played.

If they rushed forward with their blade again, they would lose themself until it was all over. Between Lae'zel, this incoming hero, and The Heartsong, it seemed a waste of everyone's efforts. Shakily, they drew in a breath. There was still blood all over them. A thought drifted through their head, that it would be good to clean off their hands. Nothing nearby would help. They blanched, before shaking off their hands rapidly and pulling their lute out. Lets see…

Lae'zel could use some healing, in return for the help she had given them. But if they wanted to continue being of assistance here, that would mean hurting as well as healing. Behemoth locked their gaze onto a goblin. In whispers, they went, "You don't even have the wits to predict your incoming death." before squeezing their eyes shut. A sounds like a strummed chord gone wrong rung through their ears. A few seconds later, they reopened their eyes, and whispered words again, watching them drift through the air before they flinched and closed their eyes again. Eventually, this would be over.

Eventually…eventually…

It felt like so much of what made them them was being dragged outside of their body. There wasn't so much a feeling of watching from an outside perspective, just the sense of distance. A feeling came, a feeling like floating.

But at least, for now, that stopped crimson edge to their vision and the awful thoughts. A voice broke them out of it. "That was the last of them." The tiefling on top of the gate, Zevlor, they remembered, seemed to take stock of everyone, before pointing behind him with his voice raised. "INSIDE, ALL OF YOU. MORE MAY FOLLOW. OPEN THE GATE!"

Finally, it was over. They tried to take deep breaths in and out, to slow the movement of their tail so it wasn't practically a whip. The rest were coming in from the top of the hill. Gale groaned as he did so, and they vaguely heard Heartsong offer their help. Bit by bit, the world was coming back to them. There was so much red. Now Shadowheart and Astarion were looting corpses. Even out of battle, there were still so many little details. Behemoth wasn't sure what to focus on, until they caught something from one of the humans who had clustered near the gate.

"Where is that bastard."

All three of them had sheathed their weapons, but one, with a head of curly brown hair and tan skin with a very warm tone, still had so much tension to him. His fists were curled. Behemoth's eyes narrowed. So long as it got them away from this…it seemed following him and keeping him from doing whatever he was about to do was a worthwhile endeavor. As the gate raised, the sound came upon their ears like thunder, and they rushed through.

Rising himself, almost spitting in this human's face, was Zevlor. "There are children here, you fool!"

"We was running," The human seemed out of breath, "for our lives."

"You led them STRAIGHT to us, AND you let them take the druid, too. Unbelievable!" Zevlor's words were coming out rushed. Agitated.

"What's unbelievable," Athmoth stepped up beside them, smiling, "is how we beat those goblins!" Their arms were spread out to either side, as if about to hold either of them back. "You're both heroes."

The human whipped his head towards them. "And who the hell are you again?!"

At this, the half-elf's smile strained. A blink-and-you'll-miss-it detail. Behemoth reached out a hand to their shoulder, and then they stopped and changed the movement into smoothing blood off of their horns. Would that have helped? Was it worth trying?

"Show some respect!" Zevlor was still up in the human's face. He seemed almost flabbergasted about what the human was saying. "If not for them, your pathetic life would be over."

His words made the human's focus snap back on him. "Well I didn't ask for any goddamn help."

"Please. You were begging for me to open the gate." Zevlor started raising his voice. Erratically, his tail whipped side to side. "Anything to save yourself, you coward."

And Behemoth saw the human's eye twitch. Again, it was something that could easily be missed. His jaw tightening and his fists clenching harder, perhaps less so. This, to their surprise, was where their fellow bard hesitated. The tiefling had no such hesitation. Maybe now they could use a bit of that voice in their head to their advantage.

They crossed their arms. "More violence won't bring back those you lost." It wasn't as if they knew the feeling, but it seemed logical. Logic was what they needed right now. "Stop and think."

Admittedly, they weren't sure it worked, until the other tiefling relaxed back. "You're right." His words were slowing down. "There's too much at stake."

"Worried about your precious hides, the lot of you."

"Enough." Zevlor's voice was still firm, but less openly hostile now. "Squabbling is pointless. The goblins have found us."

This, finally, was where the human released some of the tension in his body. "At least we agree on that."

And, with that, the two walked away from each other. Both bards let out a sigh of relief. As The Heartsong caught theirs, they smiled at them, a slight laugh in the expression. Having a bit of calm was nice.

"So, more goblins could arrive at any moment?" Astarion appeared behind them as if out of thin air, causing both the bards to jolt slightly. He didn't seem to notice. Either that, or he didn't care. "Lovely."

"Well, we made quick work of the first few!" Athmoth smiled. In response, he raised an eyebrow, though oddly enough, he gave a smaller, more smug smile of his own.

Once Behemoth's heart wasn't beating as rapidly, they looked around. Skin varied in colour here, it seemed, but a few things caught their eye repeatedly on almost every person. Horns and a tail, just like them.