"Something… unnatural," the mage's voice was low, resonant, carrying an air of authority that brooked no argument. He rose, his violet eyes locking onto the direction Chief had fled. "The energy signature is… chaotic, yet focused. And there's a residue of something… ancient. Something dark. Our initial team has clearly met with something far beyond their capabilities."
One of the lead Ogres, his face scarred and his armor bearing numerous battle marks, grunted, his voice rough. "The rat. It did this."
"The rat has become something else," the mage corrected, his gaze still fixed on the deeper woods. "This wasn't just brute force. There's… magic here. Twisted, visceral magic. And something else… something that fed on their life force." He gestured to the drained bodies. "We are dealing with something far more dangerous than we initially anticipated."
