Fassn smacks the snake’s massive body with his blunt-headed mace, making a trebly ‘tink’ noise when the weapon contacts its scales. He calls out to Old Ajralan, but with his mouth largely free of teeth by this point, the sound is muffled, indistinct.
“Come, little mouses,” the ugobok says, its lipless mouth lascivious and sinister. It doesn’t seem to notice the hanging loop of rope.
Over her shoulder, Shyan shouts an order to Fassn. He shakes his head, fear welling up in his eyes.
“I’m serious, Fassn!” Shyan retorts.
Fassn clenches his fists, his gums slapping wetly. He utters a wordless shriek and charges the ugobok’s big flared head.