The road ahead has gone very quiet. Your party's scout went forward at dawn and never signaled back. Now you know why. A creature the size of a barn blocks the path, its hide like cracked stone, its breath fogging the cold air in slow, rhythmic clouds. And from somewhere deep inside it - thumping. Muffled cursing. Sova's voice, unmistakably furious, unmistakably alive. Someone sold your route. Someone in this party handed your path to a monster broker and let this happen. You have a creature to beat, a scout to extract, a traitor standing close enough to touch, and a stranger at the tree line offering help with a smile that hasn't named its price yet.