beastly it lurks
in tuned poly-rhythms
ruling the scene for the sheep that might pass
we’ll render it crudely
when the sun’s high
this right here
is the belly of the beast
in the middle of the week
distracted, impacted by
links and quick images
sounds and the hounds
who pursue them
Fassn’s appeals to Old Ajralan went unheard, or at least so it seemed. From Shyan’s flank, he offered a few blows with his sword that sparked off the rocky hide of the creature and were otherwise ineffective.
Abia’s whistling rose in pitch, and as it did so, the hammer in Shyan’s hands grew in size and density, nearly doubling before their eyes. Suddenly the hammer was a struggle to wield, but Shyan, with teeth gritted, brought it up over her head. With a barely discernible nod, she signalled Cang.
Cang, behind the beast, lobbed a glass flask of oil at its concrete form. It shattered, coating the creature in a film of black oil, and at this, the thing turned, wheezing at Cang. When it did, Shyan brought the full force of the amplified warhammer down upon its spine.
The creature of concrete raised a heavy paw, tipped with ragged iron, and brought it down upon Shyan with a wheez. She deflected the blow with her shield, but the force of it nearly sent her sprawling. Regaining her footing, Shyan let out a baritone cry and charged toward the thing.
Abianarin fell back and began whistling a birdsong, waving her hands in undulating patterns. Cang darted past the creature, and withdrew his warhammer, made ready to toss it to Shyan. Fassn spoke muddied phrases in praise of Old Ajralan.
Shyan pushed back against the creature with her shield, but its bulk was implacable. She signalled for the hammer, and tossed the shield aside as she snatched the lobbed weapon out of the air. It was small for her, and she wielded it easily, gritting her teeth at the wheezing beast.