I stand outside of the prison doors, in a circle with two of my wardens. "Have you gotten anything from them?"

"Nothing yet. High pain tolerance, I suppose."

"Everyone has a limit. What have you tried so far?"

"Fingernails. That usually gets them talking."

I step through to the prison. My connection with the Weave is severed as I enter. A sussur blossom hangs in front of their holding cell. In the center of the prison block sits a gurney. A True Soul from Clan Flameshade is strapped down. He's breathing heavily. His eyes are closed. His hands are trembling.

"His name is Argram, Ser."

"Argram." I gently rest his fingers in my palm. The nail beds are torn and bloody. A man named Dunnol is gripping the prison bars tightly, grinding his jaw.

Argram slowly opens his eyes, then sees me. "You! Gods, this is it... my head's gettin' popped, isn't it?"

I glance at the wardens. "Fingernails are an excellent way to extract information, but when stubbornness persists, remember that most men will do anything to keep their insides... inside." I pull my dagger from my coat and run it along the front of Argram's vestments, exposing his chest and abdomen.

He begins to struggle.

"We're not asking for much," I say. "We just want to know who Brithvar might be contacting."

Dunnol leans into the bars. "If he has any sense, he'd be prayin' to the Absolute to come cleanse one of her wayward children!" he spits.

"Perhaps you are the one who has strayed."

I tuck my dagger away and grab a scalpel from the operating tray. My lip twitches as I press the blade into Argram's collarbone and draw it down to the center of his sternum.

He wails and writhes on the table.

"Don't fidget too much. I don't want the blade to slip. You may survive yet. We just need the information."

He blinks sluggishly, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

I give his cheek a few light slaps. "Argram. Stay with me. I don't need you going into shock."

He blinks and stares at me wide-eyed.

"Your allies. Who are they?"

He glances at Dunnol, who gives him a subtle shake of his head.

I purse my lips before pressing the blade into the other side of his collarbone and drawing it across his chest to meet the end of the first incision.

Argram screams once more. The incisions pucker and bend as he arches his back on the table, tugging at his wrist straps.

"He is stubborn." I turn to the holding cell. "I invite any of you to answer for him. I don't care who tells me as long as we know what Brithvar might be planning."

I look across the four duergar. One is sitting on a bench, hunched forward, eyes to the ground. Another is curled in a corner. The third is leaning against the back wall of her cell, watching me. Dunnol is still clinging to the bars.

My lip twitches again. I press the tip of the scalpel into the converging point of the two incisions in the middle of his chest.

Argram lifts his head and gives a few alarmed cries. "Wait! Wait-wait-wait. Please. I'll tell you!"

I pause, then lift the blade.

"Clans Stormglow and Goldright!" he cries with a wheeze.

"How many soldiers would that be? I need numbers."

"Uuh..." His head lolls. "Hold on..." He smacks his lips. "Let me think."

I glance at the wardens before looking back down at Argram.

"Three hundred! Three hundred soldiers between the two of them."

"Three hundred total?"

"Yes!"

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah..." He drops his head back.

"Excellent." I turn back to the wardens. "The number, of course, is unreliable. We will need to verify, but it's a start. Now leave me. The rest will be more effective without an audience."

The wardens give a soft bow. "By His will, by your hand." They make their exit.

"What more do you want?" Dunnol asks in a strained voice.

I step behind Argram and press my hands into his temples. My eyes flutter closed as I push myself into the parts of his mind he'd rather leave walled off.

Argram grows still. "Tell my famil-" His eyes glaze over.

The images are scattered, but the knowledge of the two clans seeps into me.

Clan Stormglow: From the Deep Wastes. Several days' journey.

Clan Goldright: From Old Shanatar. Closer. Still.

They're gathering at an old mausoleum in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. On the north side of Reithwin. Several hundred men. Some are being taken by the shadows. They gather all the same.

I pull back my hands. "It seems you've been gathering your kin long before your detention."

The prisoners continue to hold their silence.

Argram's head lolls. "Where..." He coughs, then winces. "Why does it hurt?" His voice trembles. His hands shake.

I pull my dagger and still myself. Argram gently tugs at his restraints, trying to gather himself. With one clean motion, I bury my blade in his chest. He grunts. His hands curl. He stares at the ceiling, then falls limp. Blood pools on the table and drips onto the floor. I rest my fingers in it and still myself once more.

The vise in my chest loosens, and I breathe, then look at my own hands. Steady. "Would you say the numbers Argram provided are accurate?" I take the scalpel and finish the cut that opens Argram's cavity.

Dunnol curls his nose. "Absolute's grace, leave his body be."

I pull open the incision and begin to probe his viscera. "I'm looking for... it shouldn't be that hard to find. Ah." My fingers land on a large spongy organ, resting just below the ribs. I begin blunt dissection to remove it. I pull his liver free after cutting some of the tougher connective tissue.

Dunnol steps back from the bars, his face slack.

My stomach aches and my mouth waters. I take a bite.

"By the nine..." He goes pale. "Yeah. Yeah, they're right..."

"What is at the Mausoleum in Reithwin?"

"Gods. Please, just leave us."

I stare at him and tear off another bite.

He swallows and takes another step back. "...an entrance to the north wing of the Temple of Shar. Hidden by the Thorm family."

He grips his stomach and walks back to his bunk, lying down.

The others avert their eyes.

I finish my meal.

Daddy,

I've settled in Moonrise. I was scared at first, but now that I'm here, I can see the glory of Her blessings.

There are gnolls here that are particularly friendly, as well as a few Zhent traders. Her followers include all sorts.

Some mornings I like to stand on the docks and watch the river flow by. Then I take a walk along the campgrounds. The soldiers have taught me a few drinking songs.

General Thorm is impressive, though he has been busy since Lord Priest Bishop has gone to Baldur's Gate. He should be returning any day. I can't wait to see him.

Welp! I better get back to all the mangled boots!

I love you.

- Rooster

I lower the letter into my lap.

Bex sits next to me, while Brithvar is propped on the edge of his chair across from us.

"We had claim to the forge long before you got here."

The spade of Bex's tail rests next to her. "What was your arrangement with the Cult of the Absolute?"

"We have equal claim through my people who joined the damned cult."

I tuck the note into my coat. "And you believed them?"

Brithvar leans forward. "I want our agreement with the cult honored, True Soul. If I can even call you that. I don't know what you're playin' at, but you're definitely not playin' by cult rules, that's for damn sure."

I glance at Bex, and she crosses her legs, leaning back. "Is that all you want?"

"I want my people freed."

I move to speak, but Bex grabs my arm. "Give us a few days to discuss your terms. We should have an answer by then."

He grunts. "It better be the right fuckin' answer." He narrows his eyes. "I know you can pop heads... but you can't get us all. We'll be waitin'." He gets up and slams the door on his way out.

Bex briefly closes her eyes.

"Are you satisfied?" I say quietly.

"No. There's hardly anything we can work with here. Conceding to their shared claim means the forge could be used in ways I'm not willing to allow.

We can't release the prisoners either, because then we would have the cult to contend with on top of whomever Brithvar might be recruiting to his cause. Besides, the fact that you've already killed one of them might antagonize him further."

"A kerfuffle."

She hits my arm, and I flinch from the grievous wound. I see a small smile peek through her otherwise stoic demeanor.

I pull out two glasses and pour us each a whiskey.

She takes hers and sips lightly. Her foot shakes. "We need to start preparing for this to become violent. Start gathering allies of our own. At least now we have time."

I tap my claw on the glass before sipping. "I suspect they already have an attacking for assembled at a mausoleum in Reithwin. I don't think they plan on honoring the agreement either. It might be prudent to begin wearing armor. Concealed, if we can help it."

"I'll speak to Dammon." Her eyes run across me. "He'll need your measurements."

"From the intelligence I gathered from the prisoners, we should anticipate an attacking force of up to three hundred men. Though, I would recommend preparing for double that."

"I'll see if Seth can confirm. God's forbid it's any more than that."

"...I need my hilt. Soon. I should travel to the Temple of Lathander to check on Sazza's progress. I'll take Doni. I don't feel safe leaving him behind."

"I understand why you want your sword back, though I'm concerned about the impact those smites cause to you." She takes another sip.

"Infernal power is never free... but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make to keep you safe."

She tucks her chin. "Everyone. Keep everyone safe."

I give her a soft smile.

Maylee has one hand on the hilt of her sword. Her other is resting across her belly. She studies the temple as we walk the halls.

Doni walks beside me, fidgeting with the strap on his mask.

"What tactics do you anticipate?" I ask.

Maylee gestures toward the large statue of Shar. "Let's look at their access points. The Ebonlake, which I suggest we move to control.

The elevator, which can easily be defended, but even so, if it were breached, it could only bring a few soldiers at a time. It may not be worth it for them to even try coming through there.

From your intelligence, it seems they're planning an attack through the north wing of the temple. The halls that connect to that front seem to have been destroyed during the last siege. They can attack with ranged weaponry, or they can fly onto the platforms of forge town. I doubt they could misty step. It's too high. Either way, access through that section of the temple will be costly for them. They'll need to bring ladders. Possibly a siege tower, if they can manage."

"Let's take a survey of the north wing and see where we are most vulnerable. I'm willing to allocate substantial resources to guarding those positions. Soldiers. Arms. Whatever you need. Speak to the quartermaster."

We stop at the edge of the broken landing that overlooks the monolith to Shar. "If they manage to breach the north wing or storm the marina, we should position ranged fighters and wardens that can drive the advance into the corridors."

Maylee smiles. "I'll meet with my wardens shortly. More are already on their way from the grove. Likewise, Zevlor has reconnected with some of the Hellriders. A modest but lethal contingent."

"That's very good to hear." I glance down at her. "I am grateful for your assistance, Maylee."

"I understand the importance of Forgetown. Even so..." She takes my hand and pats it. "I'm happy to help a friend."

Doni and I return to camp and pack for our journey to the Temple of Lathander. We ride the elevator to the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and I pull Ox from my pocket.

Doni and I step back as he expands from his snake form into a black shire.

"Father, I didn't know he could do that!"

"Don't tell anyone. It's a secret that keeps Ox safe."

He nods vigorously. I pick him up and set him on Ox's back.

"Do you think we'll find any more men like Arthur out here?" Doni asks.

"As far as I know, Arthur is the only warforged in Faerûn. Even so, keep your eyes peeled. It would be lovely to have two Arthurs, wouldn't it?"

Doni laughs playfully.

I climb on and give Ox a gentle heel tap. He starts down the trail.

The dark branches of dead trees hang over the path. Every now and again we hear a sharp scream and catch the foul scent of death.

Ahead, we see a soft light bobbing along the road. As we draw closer, we find a man with a sullen face. His hair is tied back, his dark clothes are torn, and he has a white raven on his shoulder.

He sniffs the air. "You've had dealings with the fey. Perhaps you'd be willing to help me."

"We don't have any coin." I tap my heels on Ox once more, and he trots past. The white raven squawks and flaps its wings.

Doni buries his face in the back of my coat as we continue down the path. We finally make it to a strange break in the light. We pass through, and beyond the shadows, the mountain pass opens before us. The rubble of the Temple of Lathander is now a scar on the mountainside.

Ox picks up his gait. Aging statues and the bones of soldiers still lie undisturbed.

The west wing of the temple is crawling with goblins. Most of the rubble is cleared. Sazza runs up to me.

"Boss! Boss! We almost got the place cleared out! We didn't need no duergar help after all!"

"Well done. Did you find the hilt?"

"Not yet, but we ain't slept much since we got here. Been lookin' night and day!"

I dismount and pull Doni from the horse.

"Perhaps you should switch to shifts. I need bright minds working on this. No need to exhaust you lot all at once."

"Not a bad idea, Boss."

I walk through the rubble. Most of it is larger stones, not yet broken by the sappers. "Doni, see if you can find it."

I snap my fingers, and Shovel drops from the Abyss. She hops to her feet, a fish in her mouth, her belly poking out.

"You've been eating quite a lot," I remark.

She pulls the fish from her mouth. "Good foods."

She'd eat all the rations in camp if she weren't content with spoiled meat, I swear it. "I need you to look for a sword hilt. Silver metal, blue leather. The words Tentator, Tyrannus, Totalitas engraved on it."

She nods and dashes off with the fish.

I find myself doubting she knows what she's looking for. Everyone is busy at work. I begin searching as well.

We spend the day turning over rocks and removing scattered furniture. It isn't here. No matter where we look, the damned thing isn't here.

My frustration rises. "I don't understand it..." I mutter. "Where could the damn thing have gone?" I begin shoving large stones over. "It's not like it could have vanished into another realm. It's here. I swear it!" I pick up a small table and hurl it. It shatters against a boulder.

"Am I right, Doni?! Or am I missing something?"

His shoulders are high. He isn't looking at me. I realize my heart is pounding, and I stop.

The goblins around me are still digging. No one is meeting my eye.

I sigh and run my hand along my face. "Stop. Everyone."

A few goblins look up at me.

"The sun is low. There's no use in searching in the dark. Let's rest for the night."

A small chatter comes from the goblins. They drop their tools and totter off.

I walk up to Doni.

He glances at me. "Are you angry, Father?"

"Just frustrated. Maybe a little tired, as you must be too."

He nods.

"Come. Let's lay out our bedrolls and prepare supper."

He takes my hand and we find a clearing. Ox has shifted into an ox again. He tucks his legs under him, resting near the fire. Shovel is asleep on his back.

Doni taps his boots together as he eats his toasted bread and cheese. "Father, what is my purpose?"

"What do you mean? Seems like a pretty existential question."

"I overheard Uncle Danis saying that you need everyone to be useful. Am I useful?"

My lip twitches. "Uncle Danis talks a lot, but says very little. I wouldn't pay him any mind."

Doni blinks and continues to tap his boots, finishing his toast.

"Let's scout the grounds before we turn in."

Doni wipes his hands on his shirt and gets to his feet.

We walk the perimeter, then hear a chattering echo through the trees. I look to Doni and hold a finger to my lips. We head toward the sound. Could be the goblins' camp but I want to be sure.

I crouch, and Doni crouches next to me. We hide behind a tree and peer around.

Kobolds.

Drunk kobolds.

"Let's be alert, but I doubt they'll bother us tonight." I wrinkle my nose at him. "Seems they're a bit too sauced to be a nuisance."

Doni smiles and covers his mouth, stifling a laugh.

Something catches my eye. The shine of something blue and silver.

Father. I'm glad for the convenience.

"Doni, look at the Kobold. Tell me what you see," I whisper.

He narrows his eyes and scans the camp. I can't help but smile as he searches. He suddenly jolts. "Your hilt!" he quietly exclaims, and his hands flap. The hilt is tucked into one of the kobolds' belts. A quarter of the jagged broken blade is still attached.

"How do you think we can get it back?"

"Ask them?"

"Go ahead."

Doni looks up at me and stands, shuffling out from behind the tree. He approaches the kobold, fidgeting with his fingers. "Uhm. Hi. That hilt. It belongs to my father. May I have it back?"

The kobolds quiet down and glance at him. "Who the hell are you?" The kobold with my hilt sways even though he's sitting. His voice is slurred.

"I'm Doni." His tail is twitching, but he's standing straight.

"Well this dagger is mine now. Tell your father to feck off."

A few of the kobolds grumble. One takes a swig of wine.

"Go on, kid," another says. "Mind your business and go back to your father."

"But... it belongs to him."

"How do we know that? I don't know that."

I quietly stand and come up behind Doni.

The kobold's gaze shifts from Doni and trails up. He leans back. His neck cranes. He finally meets my eye and his ears lie flat.

I place a hand on Doni's shoulder. "It is mine."

The kobolds stare up at me. Then a few scream and they scatter.

"Doni! Catch him!"

He bolts for the kobold with the hilt.

"Grovel," I whisper, gently casting the spell.

The kobold trips and is pinned to the ground.

Doni dives for him and pulls the hilt from his belt.

"I'm sorry, but this really doesn't belong to you." He gets up and gives him a little bow before running back to me.

"Father! I got it!" He holds it up to me.

I kneel down. "Thank you, Doni! You did very well!" I take the hilt and turn it in my hand. A soft cold smoke rises from the shards of the blade. I tuck it into my coat before giving him a hug. "I'm proud of you."

We sleep soundly after securing the perimeter. I keep the hilt tucked close to me. The cold steel presses against my chest.

Then I feel a nudging at my side. The morning light shines through the leaves in the trees. "Mr. Neel! Mr. Neel, the boy is gone!"

My eyes snap open and I sit up. "Doni?"

Ox steps back. "I just noticed!"

"Doni?" I call out. I neither hear nor see anything. I climb to my feet. "Help me look."

My heart begins to race as the worst possibilities run through my mind. I check my hands and clothes for blood. Nothing. Nothing. I didn't kill him. I couldn't have. Father wouldn't be so cruel...

Ox shifts into a jackrabbit and bolts through the forest.

Shovel is still asleep. I kick her. She rolls and catches herself. "Master Neely?"

"Doni is gone. For fuck's sake, make yourself useful and find him!"

"WHAT?!"

"Ox went that way. Check over there. Do not come back until you have him!"

Shovel runs without another word.

My feet hammer the ground. The temple draws near. Voices rise from the stone steps, and I see Mizora floating with two devils. They're chanting an incantation.

Below them. Doni. He's stock-still and has a quill in his hand.

No.

I reach out and try to command him to stop. My tongue is useless.

He presses the quill into infernal parchment and begins to scrawl.

"Gods!" The only word I have. The wrong word. I snatch him away, but the signature glows and burns into the parchment.

"Doni! What did you do?!"

Tears begin to well in his eyes. "Father! I'm... I'm sorry!" He buries his face in my shoulder.

I pick him up and cradle the back of his head. My eyes lock onto Mizora.

"Well. What a dramatic ritual this turned out to be." A coy smile slides across her lips and she wrinkles her fucking nose at me. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of my new puppy."

I grow still as Doni shudders with quiet sobs.

"A dear. I hate to see him crying after the marvelous deal he's just made. You two are going to have a lot to talk about."

My eyes don't break from her.

"You should be grateful that I've volunteered to help. Be his new mother, so to speak."

As she shifts her footing my gaze follows her and she pauses.

"We're going to be seeing a lot more of each other." She drags a claw behind her ear, tucking her hair. "Get used to the idea of sharing."

Her smile begins to look forced before faltering.

"Well?"

The sisters vanish, and her shoulders lift slightly. Doni rubs his face on my shoulder, covering his eyes with his hand.

"I'm not going to waste my time if you're not going to say anything."

A ring of hellfire forms below her and she scoffs. "Remember, this was a favor."

She vanishes in flame and sulfur.

I bring myself down, sitting cross-legged, keeping Doni tight against me.

He chokes. "I just wanted to be useful."

My stomach sinks. I swallow and hold him closer.

Useful.

He was perfect.

"We'll make the best of things. We always do."

We return to camp a little faster than we left. Gale and Lae'zel have arrived from the Sussur Concord, and everyone seems to be catching up.

Gale holds the egg gently in his lap. "I knew you were going to make sure things were safe. I wasn't expecting you to found a whole village around the damned place. An adamantine forge... who knew?"

Bex smiles. "I'm just glad we were able to call you two to join us. You must be happy to be out of the influence of the Sussur tree."

Gale sighs. "You have no idea..." His focus shifts to me, and he falls silent.

I approach Danis, looking at him sitting with his fucking cup of tea.

"Danis, may I speak with you?"

"Spooks, you're back!" Karlach calls.

I glance at her before focusing on Danis again.

"Varrick." Bex stands. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just need to speak with Danis."

Danis shifts but clears his throat and sets his tea down. He straightens his ugly fucking blue robe and follows me to the edge of camp.

My voice is short despite myself. "I genuinely don't understand what possessed you to speak ill of me in front of my son."

"What? I did no such thing."

"Then why, pray tell, did he tell me that you said I only value people when they're useful. That is a lie, or else you wouldn't be here anymore!"

"Excuse me?!" He lifts his chest and struggles to speak. "...I can't tell if you're saying that you care about me despite feeling like I'm useless."

"I'm saying your words had catastrophic consequences. You have no idea what damage you've done!"

"How could I have caused anything? I never said that to Doni."

"He overheard you. That was enough."

"Well, whatever correct impression that left, I'm sure you can straighten it... nnngh-"

My hand snatches his throat, and I pull him in.

Danis gags and grabs at my arms.

"Spooks!" Karlach and Bex run over.

"Varrick, put him down!"

Doni dashes over and leaps up, hanging off my arm. "Fa-ther!"

It's only then I realize I have Danis in the air.

His face starts going pale, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

I release him.

He hits the dirt and lies still.

"Danis!" Bex cries. She and Karlach drop to their knees at his side, patting his face and squeezing his hand.

Danis finally coughs and groans.

"Danis." Bex pulls back his hair and kisses his forehead.

Karlach looks up at me, brow tight. "Are you proud of yourself?"

I take a sharp breath in. My skin is crawling. I put my hand on Doni's back. "Let's go. We'll camp elsewhere."

"I... I want to stay with Uncle Danis. Make sure he's okay," he says quietly, looking down.

My heart clenches, and I drop my hand, shifting back. Danis slowly sits up, clinging to Bex and Karlach's arms.

I take another step back, then leave.