The mage wasn't surprised. In fact, a small part of him felt a perverse sense of satisfaction. They were clearly outmatched, unprepared to face whatever had wrought such devastation. Delaying the confrontation was the wisest course of action, at least until reinforcements arrived.
He had already dispatched a message via a scrying stone back to the Obsidian Tower, his urgent report directed to Tower Master Vellok himself. Vellok's arrival was imminent, a force to be reckoned with. But the mage had no intention of waiting around to be subjected to Vellok's directives.
"Let's go back and wait for further orders," he commanded the assembled Ogres, his voice firm and decisive. He didn't meet their gazes, already focusing his mana.
With a swift, intricate gesture, he cast a potent haste spell upon himself. The air around him shimmered, and in the blink of an eye, he took two long strides and vanished in a burst of displaced air.
