<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-weight: bold">General Wolfhart</span> // <span style="color: #FFFF80">Dining Hall</span></div><br/>“Someone is trying to send a message,” Bren grumbled, knowing full-well it was most likely the conclusion they had all come to already- but, Bren knew this after the first scout was found dead.  The point was driven home into his mind now, and he couldn’t shake it no matter how much he wanted to.  “I just don’t know who.”  He was worried.  He could sense Allistair was concerned as well, though he was uncertain just how deeply he understood the implications of this.  His folded fingers tightened into fists, like he was attempting to squeeze the life out of something between his palms.  He would like to think he was merely overthinking the situation, but unfortunately, overthinking was exactly his job in this scenario.<br/><br/>“I’ve no word yet from my investigation, and it has been long enough.  No clues, no tracks, nothing,” he maintained his eye contact with both Allistair and Aurion as he said this, particularly Aurion, as he slowly and deliberately explained, “It is my opinion they were not captured by<span style="font-style: italic">ordinary</span>men.<span style="font-style: italic">Men</span>leave a trail.”<br/><br/>“Thus,” he continued, allowing no room for interjections, “I feel it is my personal concern to continue this search.  Whomever is responsible for using<span style="font-style: italic">magic</span>to incapacitate<span style="font-style: italic">my</span>soldiers must answer to<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">me</span></span>.” He hadn’t noticed when his fist had dropped angrily onto the tabletop.  Bren was especially sensitive to magic, his mixed feelings on them an enigma to those who misunderstood him.  He believed that magic should serve man, not use them.  Dark magic, especially, with its intimate and manipulative relationship with its user, was unforgiveable according to Bren.  Therefore, if it really was magic at play here, it was almost a personal insult on top of the threat it was already turning out to be.<br/><br/>His dark eyes bore into the two of them, now awaiting their thoughts.  When Bren was finished talking, he made it quite blatant when he was.  Even as adamant as he was about addressing this matter personally, he was not above the opinions of his peers.  They had saved his hide from impulsive decisions many times before, and he valued them.