"Something's not right."
"You're right, it's too… quiet."
Suddenly, I felt a surge of magical power gathering in the center of the village, and just a second later, the distant sound of voices and objects being thrown caught our attention. Luke and the old man started running in that direction, eager to see what was happening, but I had already seen enough. The village's central square had been overrun by a group of raiders. Several of them were looting houses, forcing the remaining villagers to hand over whatever little they had, and tossing food on the ground just for fun.
"Bastards…" I heard Luke mutter, his water mark glowing faintly on his arm, fueled by the anger he felt watching the raiders do such things.
It seemed like everyone was too focused on either being scared or causing fear to notice us, poorly hidden behind some barrels. At least, that's what I thought until I felt a chilling cold grip my legs.
I didn't sense his presence in time.
