Far to the northeast, Satou's scouting party had just finished setting up camp for their first night. They'd found the river, mapped a significant portion of the territory, and even encountered and defeated a pack of Dire Boars.
It had been a successful expedition.
Satou sat by the fire, reviewing the mental notes he'd made about the terrain. Jessica and Kelvin were practicing their combat forms nearby, their movements much more refined than they'd been weeks ago. Grimnir and the orc warriors shared stories, their deep voices rumbling with laughter.
Everything was perfect.
Then Satou felt it.
A chill ran down his spine. His enhanced senses screamed warnings he couldn't interpret. Something was wrong. Terribly, fundamentally wrong.
He stood abruptly, his head turning south toward where the settlement lay.
"Satou?" Grimnir noticed his sudden tension. "What is it?"
