Where Did the Divinity Go?!

(I'm sick. Sorry.)

Soren's figure vanished into the night.

With his formidable Stealth, even these Wind Stalkers, an elite Elf Guard, were unlikely to spot him in the darkness. The Hunters who had stayed behind to cover the retreat had suffered heavy losses. Seeing how badly things had gone, the few survivors fled in different directions. Soren began finishing them off under cover of night, Tracking them down and quietly killing them. These enemies could not be allowed to return alive. Every bit of strength he took from them would help his plans.

At dawn.

Soren returned to the Hunters' camp. Fourteen had set out on the mission, but only four came back. Ten Hunters of mid-to-high professional level or above had died. Even a Deity's Church would struggle to bear such losses. It was as if the entire corps of mid-to-high-ranking officers in a Port Nyanzaru fleet had been killed. Though the Hunters had brought down a Holy Unicorn, their forces in the area had been crippled. They could no longer face the Elf Rangers in a direct fight.

When Soren returned to camp in his Hunter guise, traces of blood still stained his clothes. He looked as though he, too, had barely survived the battle.

Nearly half the people in the camp were gone, yet the survivors showed little grief. If anything, they seemed excited.

The Sacrificial Ritual for the God of Hunt was about to begin.

The God of Hunt was generous. Throughout his history, he had never been stingy about rewarding his followers. Wealth or power—if a ritual pleased him, rich rewards would follow.

Evil Gods tended to be much the same.

In the Underdark, if a Drow Matriarch succeeded in pleasing the Spider Queen, her entire family's standing would rise, and the family would