The rift widened with every second, stretching the very air around it like skin pulled too tight. A low hum thrummed through the ground. They felt it more in their bones than in the ears. The adventurers in Darel's party quickly readied their weapons.
The amulets around their necks still shimmered faintly, pulsing with Magic meant to ward off the forest's mist. But this was something else. Something not born of this world.
Just like Darel and Yara warned.
Even so, the sense of danger wasn't shared by all. Some of the adventurers who still emboldened by the false comfort of the enchanted amulets stood tall and relaxed.
One of them was Varn.
With an axe slung over his shoulder and a wide grin splitting his bearded face, he looked like he was walking into a tavern brawl, not staring down another world aberration. His eyes gleamed with anticipation rather than fear.
"About time we saw some real action," he muttered, mostly to himself.
Then it came.
