The fierce men were dark and solemn. They were muscular and bizarrely clad in loincloths of black pelts, and each had a large plastron displayed across his chest. As they neared, the professor could see these plates were from prehistoric turtles, long presumed extinct. the riders’ wiry paint steeds pulled up in front of him and screamed a challenge. Sparks flew from their flinty hooves as they danced nervously among the loose stones. Facing Snood, the leader stallion's eyes burned red and he bared his teeth in an unmistakable purpose to…wait…sorry, wrong story. The horse were patient and still while one of the strangers tossed over a large, floppy leather bag to the ground. When the men began murmuring weird incantations, he knew he was out of his depth.
“Laura! Come here at once! I need you.” With her degree in thaumaturgy, she would know how to handle this.
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