King of the Rats
A rat, that is what I am. Well, to be exact I'm a man rat. an abomination of untold proportions, a deviant to the beauty of mother nature. Born to inhabit the dirtiest of sewers and the deepest of holes. To hide away beneath the dirt only leaving to hunt down some of the weaker prey. That is the race I was born into. The weakest of the weak, a fetid and miserable group whose hatred for one another is only beaten by our immense dislike for Goblins. Those scummy little green trash. But me, I am an outlier to this, an anomaly of sorts. For I was not born a brainless buffoon who can only feel hatred and hunger. I was born intelligent.
Comraderie.
Slowly rising to my feet I looked back at the five rats who now stood waiting for my instructions.
"These remains are our first and only lead on the dungeon location. Whatever creatures cause this lives close enough to mark its territory here. Search the area for any more clues"
Staring back down at the cryptic message I reread over the scrawled handwriting to see if any clues were mixed in.
However, there was no such luck.
Following my own command, I looked around the general area scouting for anything else left behind.
Apart from the occasional large wood chip or branch which had been ripped off the area was barren. From the lack of any 'embers' or fire-related damage, it seems this prince of embers did not do this himself.
This confirms my original thought of some sort of monster clan being behind the Prince of embers.
So the biggest mystery remaining is what sort of creature.