Xanor stood before the kneeling Wendigos with an air of imposing authority. He slowly raised a hand, removing his helmet to reveal his face. Beside him, Shadow eyes stood motionless.
"Is this the stronghold?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to fill the air, directed at the eight-foot Wendigo who knelt before him.
"Yes," the Wendigo replied, its voice a gravelly whisper.
"Update me on everything," Xanor commanded, his focus already shifting as he walked toward the main building—a three-story structure that dominated the small city.
The Wendigo followed, its words rushing to keep pace. "We're currently awaiting the next shipment, scheduled for tomorrow morning. But... we've been plagued by intruders. They keep attacking our scouts and have even attempted to breach the stronghold multiple times."
"Why are they still a problem?" Xanor's stride didn't falter, his question cutting through the Wendigo's explanation like a blade.
