A few moments later, the tremor faded, but the mountain remained eerily quiet.
Dennis took a deep breath as he frowned at the situation. Something was definitely off.
"That wasn't an earthquake…"
Luke, still crouched behind a cluster of rocks, pointed toward the valley below. "Look."
They all turned.
From the mist-covered basin, a tide of movement surged forward. Thousands of small, hunched figures crawling, leaping, and slithering across the terrain.
Their skin was glossy and spotted. There were shades of green and gray and they had bulging eyes and fins running down their backs.
"Those are… Glimmermucks. Feral Beasts…" Tristan muttered with a low voice, afraid to be heard by those creatures.
Glimmermucks were a weak but aggressive species native to the western mountains. Normally found in swamp sectors or shallow pools, they rarely leave their habitat unless driven by something stronger…
But this wasn't a scouting party.
This was a horde.
