Over the distant horizon—across the hills and sweeping green plains—glowed the flicker of flames. His eyes, accustomed to the dark, didn't need the light to see it.
That's why he saw what he saw.
Honestly, the ability to see in the dark was great, but in some places, it was best to not see at all; a good example would be the horrors of the duhu mountains.
Though this time, it was nothing that macabre; it was the mundane type of horror.
Orcs. Marching. Armed to the teeth. Chanting battle cries.
Massive beasts the size of city walls dragged forward wooden platforms and siege weapons. Towering creatures that looked like twisted gorillas with tusks and four arms—walking bulldozers bred to tear down stone walls.
Orc shamans clad in robes and dangling bead collars sang strange songs and wove spells, their magic rising in threads of green and red through the night air.
