Chapter Text
She walks around the abandoned temple of Selune with a commanding presence. The goblins in her charge are often unsure of whether or not to fear her or revere her. So, to be safe, they do both. They are all too familiar with the cruelty of a drow when disappointed by lesser creatures. And lesser creatures they are.
There was a time in Minthara's life in which she would lead a retinue of drow warriors, the best House Baenre had to offer. Instead, she is forced to debase herself and live amongst goblin trash. Despite her antipathy for her current station, she has faith in the command of General Thorm, even if she sees no wisdom behind those commands.
In one of the few goblin victories, they returned with prisoners from a nearby settlement, one that may have the artifact she seeks. One is just an ordinary person, put on the torture rack. As expected, Spike has failed to pull any useful information from him. The other is supposedly an Archdruid. But, Minthara sees no Archdruid in the cell, just an ordinary cave bear.
The goblins say he was a rather large man before shifting into a bear. On normal circumstances, she'd believe them to be full of it. But, they presented her with a journal that he dropped when turning into the beast she sees before her. As she reads the journal, she finds herself disturbed by the contents inside. The cave bear, who is supposedly the Archdruid Halsin, seems to know a lot about Moonrise, General Thorm, the Shadow-Curse, and the Absolute. She snaps the journal shut and approaches the cage. The bear roars out at her.
"I cannot discern if you are clever or cowardly. To turn yourself into an animal to avoid interrogation. I am well aware of the extent of a druids power. You cannot remain in this shape forever, your body will exhaust itself. It is only a matter of time before I break you. That is, if your comrade doesn't break first." Minthara warns the bear. It makes no noise. It does not need to make any noise. She can feel its animosity through the bars.
"Can we's get back to it? I like hearing it scream!" a goblin child says to Minthara.
"Do as you wish. I recommend either throwing harder or picking sharper rocks." She advises the goblin children as she leaves the lower dungeon. She can hear them squeal with excitement as they return to throwing rocks at the bear.
She walks back upstairs and visits the other prisoner. His interrogation has not yet wielded any results.
"I'm not saying a word to you! You can cut me all you want. I'm not saying anything!" he speaks over to Minthara.
"Don't worry your Ladyship! We'll make 'im squeal soon enough!" Torturer Spike says to Minthara.
"You have had an entire day to extract information, and you prisoner still remains defiant! Until you get the answers I need, I will take something precious from you every hour that passes. A trinket, a tongue, a limb!" She growls down to Spike.
"I'm nothing without my limbs! Can't make 'im talk without them."
"Silence, creature. Look around you. You are in a camp surrounded by your kin. This job does not need to be completed by you." She warns Spike.
"I... I'll get it done! You don't 'ave..." Minthara has already walked out of earshot of Spike and does not care to hear how he finishes his statement. She walks past another room and glares in to see a man on his knees facing a wall. He appears to be whipping himself on the back and cries out with delight. She can hear the pitter patter of small goblin feet as they follow behind her. They look into the room and see the man.
"That's Abdirak, some priest 'o Lovitar he says. He sits in 'ere all day, whippin' 'imself. He keeps trying to whip us too..." one of the goblin trackers explains to her. The priest, in response to the noise, stands and greets her with his arms outstretched.
"Ahh, there you are! I heard there was a drow in camp here. I've been awaiting your presence. I imagine you of all people may appreciate the pleasure of pain." he says still feeling the ecstasy of self-flagellation.
"I do enjoy the pleasures of pain. To be precise, I enjoy the pleasure of inflicting pain onto those who annoy me." she smiles to him. She looks down to the small crowd of goblins surrounding her and nods her head. The goblins run into the room and beat the priest down to the ground. "For example, I will take great pleasure in knowing you will make a fine meal for my spiders."
"No - wait! I didn't mean any disrespect!" the priest cries out as he is dragged away to the spider pit. Minthara pinches the ridges of her nose as a headache begins to form. The goblins are a bit too chaotic for her liking and keeping them all in order is a constant struggle for her, but she manages.
She continues to walk down the corridor and comes up to another room. Inside that room is a bard, reciting horrendous poetry through gritted teeth. The goblin he is with seems to be enjoying it though. Under normal circumstances, Minthara would remove the tongues of bards who talk too much. But, she finds herself unable to care enough to put in that much effort.
She returns to her war table located in an isolated spot in the camp. Most of the goblins tend to keep away from it so its the only somewhat peaceful spot for her. Her small cove overhangs a seemingly bottomless cavern. The goblins may think that there truly is no bottom, but she knows that there is. At the bottom of the cavern is her home, the Underdark. Or, at least it was her home. She has found a new home and a new purpose with the Absolute.
It is a rare thing for the goblin camp to go silent, but it does happen from time to time. Usually, she enjoys the quiet. But she does not enjoy the few moments of silence in the camp, overlooking the Underdark. In the silence, she can hear the dissonant whispers and gets the sensation of something crawling up her neck. By joining the Absolute, she has committed a grave sin against Lolth. As vindictive and cruel as she is, Lolth can be patient. Minthara knows better than most that patience makes the vengeance sweeter. If Minthara were to ever return to the Underdark, she would be hunted down by her house. That is, if Lolth does not kill her first.
Minthara leans over the war table and peruses the map of the Emerald Environs. The goblins have raided and ransacked most locations to no avail. Although, the raid at Waukeens Rest did prove successful, but in an unexpected light. Who would have known that a Grand Duke would be in the area? On her instruction, she had the goblins and a few of her drow warriors immediately take him to Moonrise to General Thorm.
Her main purpose in the area was to recover an artifact, a most power weapon. General Thorm expressed to her how important it was for this mission to succeed and for the weapon to be recovered. She nearly expected it to be found on the illithid Nautiloid that crashed on the beach. However, there was nothing but corpses. If the artifact was on that ship, seems someone must have survived the crash and absconded with it.
Thankfully, a corpse of a Mindflayer was recovered and the hobgoblin Dror Ragzlin is attempting to interrogate it. Minthara expects no results from it though. Even simple necromancy spells are beyond the capabilities of hobgoblins.
As she continues to survey the map, she hears small footsteps approach her. She looks up to see a goblin approach her, escorting a small ensemble of people.
"Mistress! It's me, yer loyal servant, Sazza. I'm back - an' I brought some friends." the goblin, Sazza, excitedly looks up to Minthara.
"How thoughtful. And where did you find your friends?" Minthara asks the goblin.
"They were in some rickety druid grove. Mostly full of tieflin's, but them intruders you're after were hidin' out there!"
"I presume you dealt with my prey, and massacred the rest?"
"Ah... well, the thing about that is... they sorta massacred us. These mugs helped me escape though. I say we stick a few holes in them, show how grateful we are."
Minthara looks up at the "friends" Sazza brought and sees a rather... interesting assortment of characters. In the back is a very tall tiefling with only one horn. Minthara knows most tieflings are touched by the Hells in some sort, but she's never seen one literally on fire. Next to her is what appears to be a man but with a devils features: two horns curling behind his head, devil ridges on his cheecks and neck, and one red demon eye. She is unsure how the man can both have human and devil features as he does not appear to be a tiefling himself. In front of him is another drow with a haunted look in her eyes. She glares at Minthara and carefully watches each and every one of her movements. Maybe it's just her imagination, but Minthara has seen her before... somewhere. And in the forefront next to Sazza is a half-elf adorned in dark armor.
A Sharran? Minthara questions to herself. They are quite the random assortment of people and she is unable to even hypothesize how these four came together. The human devil hybrid and the tiefling, sure, makes sense to her. But a drow and a Sharran? This drow is obviously not amongst one of hers. And the Sharran is publicly displaying symbols of her god. Most Sharrans keep that a secret. What an awful Sharran.
She attempts to read the mind of the Sharran to get a read on her, but she does not take too long to do so. She can feel that she is touched by the Absolute already.
"Oh dear." she looks back down to Sazza. "Your prisoners are some of the Absolute's favorites, Sazza. True Souls."
"Nah. Can't be... they woz in the grove, hanging around with the tieflin's."
"Undercover, no doubt. Carrying out the Absolute's will. Oh Sazza, you have made a grave error. And it will be your last. My spiders could use with a little... desert. But before they feast, tell me where that grove is, and I may yet spare your life."
"It's past the bridge, to the east! Big ol' gate covered in ivy! Don't hurt me, mistress. Please!"
"I will not hurt you. My spiders will have that pleasure."
"No! I mucked up, I'm sorry. But I didn't know who they were... they didn't tell me nothin!"
"No, we explained everything to her." the half-elf speaks up. "She just didn't understand. Typical for goblins. I expected nothing less."
"A liar as well as a fool?" Minthara scolds Sazza. "I hope you're at least, digestible."
"It ain't true! Them's the bloody liars!" Sazza screams out. Another goblin comes up behind her and begins to drag her away. "Somebody help!"
"Through sheer luck, that pathetic worm has brought me the information I need." she says to the half-elf. "And it seems that the inhabitants of the grove trust you. We can use that against them. You have a part to play in this slaughter. Return to the grove. When my raiding party approaches, throw open the gates and signal me."
"That grove is full of useless druids and refugees who are just seeking safe passage to Baldur's Gate. I don't understand why you're so interested in it." the half-elf asks.
"They are worshipers of a false god. Their continued existence is an insult to the Absolute's claim on this region. There is a weapon the Absolute seeks. I'm sure those wretches have it hidden away there. We will find it amongst the dead and the ashes."
Suddenly, the half-elf becomes suspiciously anxious. Minthara does not need to read her mind to perceive that. She is hiding something. "Speak. Why do you hesitate, True Soul?"
"We've been to the grove. Surely if they had a weapon desired by the gods, we'd have seen it."
"If you had a weapon of magnificent power, would you keep it out in the open, free for anyone to abscond with? No, you keep it hidden away from prying eyes while feigning weakness and incompetence. I would have presumed you of all would understand the importance of keeping secrets, Sharran."
"And what would you know of my Lady?" the half-elf says defensively.
"More than you, it would seem. I do not have the most... favorable opinion of her. Too many similarities to another god I once had a history with. But, think of it this way, faerie. I am going to get into that grove, with or without you. Is it not within your own dogma to assist those in embracing loss? Refuse me and deny your Dark Mistress, as well as the Absolute."
The half-elf looks to the floor, contemplating what Minthara said. Minthara looks to the rest of the group and appraises them. The tiefling and the half-devil appear to be mortified of what could happen if the half-elf were to agree. But the drow looks back at Minthara with excitement in her eyes. She is willing to stand besides Minthara in her dance of death. At least this one can understand and appreciate Minthara's intentions. Everything seems to be hinging on the half-elf. Why is a darthiir ordering around a drow?
"You're right. If they are to die, it is only right that I help guide them to Shar's embrace."
"Good. Marshaling the goblins is no simple matter, but my warband will be ready to attack by next light. Once we are in position, we will wait for your signal and then we will break them all." Minthara begins to walk away and instructs the goblins to ready a war party.
"Whoa, solider. What did you just do?" Minthara overhears the taller tiefling speak to the half-elf.
If that one gets in my way, I'll kill her myself.
She turns and looks back to the group. Three of them seem to be locked in an argument about the decision. But one is not participating in that argument. The drow is looking past the group and at Minthara. No, she's looking through Minthara. Despite the noise and cacophony that is rising in the camp, she is beginning to hear the whispers that she only hears in silence. Her skin begins to crawl over her body, as if infested by hundreds of spiders. Whoever this drow is, Lolth is watching through her eyes.