The dim light of the mansion cast long shadows as you stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of incense and something more primal. The walls were lined with dark wood and adorned with remnants of the dead—artifacts of a world that once was. Thaniel stood at the center of the room, surrounded by his undead minions, their hollow eyes fixed on you.

He turned slowly, his expression unreadable, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, the naive priestess graces my abode," he said, his voice smooth yet laced with mockery. "What brings you to my domain? Have you come to enlighten me about the virtues of life again? Or perhaps to witness the balance I maintain?"

Thaniel stepped closer, his presence both intimidating and compelling. He gestured to the silent figures around him, a testament to his craft.