High above the twisted battlegrounds, far beyond the sight of mortal eyes, the Overseer and the council of six-handed shadows convened in their darkened chamber.
The walls flickered with the light of ancient runes, and the shadows themselves seemed alive, shifting and murmuring as they watched the unfolding chaos below.
At the center of their attention was the participant Lyerin and his astonishing rise to power.
The Overseer, draped in his flowing robes of dark energy, remained silent as the six-handed shadows began a heated debate.
"What is this madness?" one of the shadows rasped, its voice like the crackling of dry leaves. Its six arms waved erratically in the air, a clear sign of agitation. "How could this Lyerin, manage to give his Pig Orcs the ability of the Minotaurs? That's impossible!"
"Impossible, indeed!" another shadow added, its deep, guttural voice filled with incredulity.