In the ruins of an overgrown temple beneath a blood-red moon, shadows stir — twisted drow hunters sent by Lolth to reclaim the “traitor.” Valryss steps into the moonlight filtering through shattered stone, silver blades drawn, her dance beginning. Each movement is a hymn, each strike a prayer for freedom. “The moon sings to those who listen. I dance not for vengeance, but for hope!"
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