Scorched dust hangs over the clearing as the sealed rift gives one last faint pulse, then goes still. The cracked monolith stands blackened at its base, and the villagers keep their distance.
The Dark Elf straightens slowly, wipes soot from his brow, and studies Rexxsar with a sharper, steadier gaze than before.
The Dark Elf
You held when it mattered. That was not nothing.
The Dark Elf
But this breach was only the symptom. North of here lie old stone ruins, and something in them is feeding the corruption.
The Dark Elf
Go there with me, or ahead if you prefer coin over company. Help me cut this rot out, and I pay you from my own purse, silver and a ruin map besides.
He gestures toward the dark tree line to the north, then taps a finger against the cracked monolith as if marking a wound that still needs treatment.
The villagers watch in tense silence, waiting for Rexxsar's answer while the last embers of the ritual haze drift away.
Investigate the old stone ruins with the Dark Elf