The old Selûnite temple had become something uglier under goblin hands. Broken moon-carvings were smeared with ash, banners of the Absolute hung where sacred cloth once rested, and the air stank of sweat, blood, and stale fire-smoke. Deep within the Shattered Sanctum, Minthara Baenre stood over a groveling goblin with the cold patience of a noblewoman deciding which servant had disappointed her most.

The hunt had gone poorly. The druids’ sanctuary remained hidden, the tiefling refugees had not yet been crushed, and the Absolute’s prize — the mysterious weapon whispered to be somewhere near the grove — still eluded her. Ketheric Thorm had given orders, and Minthara did not intend to return to Moonrise Towers empty-handed.

Rozzak knelt before her, trembling beneath the gaze of the drow paladin. Around them, goblins pretended not to listen.

Minthara’s voice was low, steady, and dangerous. “Your scouting party has not returned, and half of the intruders escaped your guards.”

Rozzak swallowed hard. “Sorry, mistress. We mucked up.”

Minthara stepped closer, her crimson eyes narrowing. “Until the sanctuary is found, i will take something precious from you every hour that passes.”

“I will fix it mistress.” Rozzak blurted, panic cracking his voice. “The lads'll make the prisoner squeal soon enough, I swear!”

Minthara’s expression did not change. She did not raise her voice. She did not need to.

“Silence now, creature. Or I will silence you forever.”

Rozzak clamped his mouth shut at once.

Then the doors creaked open.

A small band of strangers entered the chamber behind them, their boots scraping across the cracked stone floor. The goblins shifted nervously, hands moving toward crude blades and bows, but Minthara did not look alarmed. Her attention fixed on the newcomers with sudden, sharp interest.

Something stirred behind her eyes.

Her mind reached outward, brushing against the mind of one among them. Recognition sparked between them — not trust, not warmth, but the intimate, invasive certainty of shared gifts. This one too held the powers of the Absolute.

Minthara tilted her head, the faintest trace of satisfaction crossing her stern face.

“A true soul? Praise be. Are you here to join my hunt?”