Americia vs. The Gitrog Monster

	“Back, you heartless beasts!” Americia cried over the howls and chants of the twisted townsfolk. “Taste the power of FREEDOM!” The mutated people’s claws scraped harmlessly off of her armored cloak as she wildly swung her enormous hammer, smashing through two of them and sending a third one flying off of the nearby cliff. It plummeted for a few moments before landing on the rocks and exploding in a shower of blood.
	Mindless as they were, the remaining four monsters shambled forward regardless, continuing to chant and writhe their many tendrils. Americia tried swinging at them again, but her grip had become too loose and the hammer flew out of her hands, whirling through the air and careening right through one of the drones, separating it into harmless pieces, but leaving the other three still coming. Surprised, but un-deterred, the woman narrowed her eyes and reached into her belt, unsheathing both of her hedron blades and striding forward towards the pawns of Emrakul. Her blonde hair flowed out behind her from under her “borrowed” Akroan helmet, which had lost its decorative plume a very long time ago, but which she continued to use regardless. She had never liked the plume anyway. A grin crept over her face as she approached them, breaking out into a run in the final few paces and slicing right through the closest one’s face. Its nearest comrade lashed out with a clawed tentacle that ended up slamming right into Americia’s stoneforge breastplate. The impact knocked her back a step, but she quickly recovered, barking out a laugh and diving forward to plunge both swords into the offending monster’s chest, then yanking both of them back out and easily decapitating the wounded mutant.
	However, during her battle, another creature had snuck up behind her. Its writhing arms wrapped around her armored neck and it attempted to bite into her helmet. Americia growled in annoyance – she couldn’t get a good swing at it with one of her swords, but she did have something else she could use. While they were originally designed as clawed gauntlets, she had found that they got in the way of holding swords (not grasping that they were not meant to be used simultaneously), and had modified them to rest on her wrists instead, their wickedly sharp claws coming to an end just at the tips of her fingers. She clenched one of her hands into a fist and swung viciously up at the monster, punching it so hard that its head flew off and landed on the ground, exploding in a shower of blood. As the lifeless drone fell from her back, the remaining one did something none of the others had: it hesitated. Americia gave it a stern glare. “Are you giving yourself up for questioning?” she asked the mutant, which without a doubt could not understand what she was saying.
	The mutants eyes (which were located on its shoulders) darted around nervously until the monster abruptly turned, ran for the cliff, and threw itself off the edge, at which point it promptly fell into the ocean and exploded in a shower of blood.
Americia watched it dash off the edge with a single hand held out and a look of alarm on her face. As she heard it crash into the ocean, she solemnly shook her head. “Damn. I was too late.” She sheathed her blades and marched over to retrieve her hammer. With a grunt, she hefted it over her shoulder and gazed out towards the horizon. There was the unmistakable silhouette of some sort of village. Perhaps it was in danger! With this possibility kept firmly in mind, the blonde Planeswalker marched briskly towards it.
	It was a short walk over to the town, given Americia’s fast pace. As she approached the village, she noticed that it was, as many of the settlements she encountered had been, almost completely abandoned. She walked through the main road, her absurdly large arsenal of weaponry clanging against her armor as she went, passing empty house after empty house. A sigh left her lips as she stopped her walking, standing and just looking around at the dusty street. Suddenly, a sound reached her. She turned towards what might have once been a tavern to her right and heard two distinct, hushed voices, although the details were muffled through the metal of her helmet. Wary, but fairly certain that there were no archers taking aim at her head, she slipped the helmet off, shaking out her hair and perking an ear towards the tavern.
	“I say, that doesn’t look like a bally monster, does it?”
	“Non, mon cheri, eet looks like a normal woman to moi.”
	Americia narrowed her eyes and walked over to the tavern. “Who goes there?” she called, putting her helmet under her arm and her one free hand not holding her hammer on her hip.
	For a few moments there was nothing but silence, then the door slowly opened and a young woman stepped out, a tear in her dress exposing a little more of her grand bristols than was normal. “Uh, salutations, old chap!” she said nervously, brushing some brown hair out of her eyes and taking the pipe out of her mouth. “Terribly sorry, but we could really use a bit of help, we’re in a right pickle.”
	The blonde planeswalker walked closer, having trouble quite understanding what the woman was saying. People spoke so strangely on this plane. “Are you in need of assistance?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
	“Ah, yes!” the woman said with a nod. “You’ve hit the nail right on the head there, old bird. My name is Elizabeth, I live in this nice little place, and, well, we’ve been having this awful bit of trouble with…”
	She stopped as she was interrupted by the appearance of a second woman, her beautiful features twisted into an expression of utter despair, and her long, thick dark hair tumbled down behind her. Americia could make out for a moment that her dress was torn to a comically extreme degree, outright showing one bare, creamy leg, before the woman hid behind Elizabeth. “Oh, sacre bleu, eet ees zee Geetrog monster!” she cried out, putting the back of one of her hands to her forehead. “Eet ees an awful, awful beest!”
	“I say, steady on, Francoise, old thing,” Elizabeth said to the dark-haired woman’s shoulder as she cowered behind her. “But I’m afraid she’s right. There’s this bloody great toad hopping about and it’s been having all of us for tea and biscuits! You look like you’ve got a bit of the old what ho, it’d be quite splendid of you to give it a right proper thrashing!”
	Americia’s eyes shone and the thrill of a new chance to bring liberty soared through her. “My name is Americia, and it is my duty to bring freedom to this land. Tell me where it is, and I’ll take care of it,” she said, her voice radiating confidence.
	“Around this time of day?” Elizabeth said, looking up towards the late afternoon sun. “I’d guess it’s heading back towards Lake Zhava, which is a right ghastly place at any time of day, I’ll tell you!”
	Francoise suddenly ran out from behind Elizabeth and clung to Americia’s shoulder, the tattered scraps of her ridiculously torn dress fluttering in the wind behind her. “Oh, but Americia, you cannot go zhere!” she lamented, her eyes full of fear. “Eet ees too dangerous!”
	Americia smiled at the dark-haired woman and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, ma’am. I’ll be all right, and I’ll put that big frog back in the water where it belongs.”
	She took a step back, blushing fiercely. “Oh, Americia, you are so brave!” she said with a sigh as she watched the armored Planeswalker walk down the road.
	“Err, I say, old sport,” Elizabeth called out after the woman. “Don’t you need directions?”
	Americia merely gave a dismissive wave back over her shoulder after she replaced her helmet, walking in the direction her gut told her was right.
	Fortunately, the lake was fairly easy to locate without relying on either directions or gut instinct, as its distinct breeze was an easy metric to measure distance by, and it was easy to spot from quite a long way away while the sun was still out. As she got closer to the lake and the road turned to grass and dirt, Americia started to notice enormous, webbed tracks, going to and from the town. With how depopulated things had gotten, it was possible that the monster had been encroaching further and further inward, forsaking its comfort zone in the lake due to its need for more prey. Americia felt a shade of respect for the enormous creature and the courage it must take for a traditionally amphibious animal to go so far onto dry land. But her duty called. It would have to be put down.
Finally, after a long trek through trees, bushes, and a couple of long-abandoned farms, she came to the ruined dock that lay on the lakebed. Everything that had built there by humankind, from the ships to the dock itself, lay in shambles, splintered wood peppering the shoreline. However, out in the water she could see what looked like an odd, pale yellow rock. But if it was a rock, why was it moving? Wait a minute!
	“Halt!” she cried out as she strode down to the shoreline, lifting her hammer off her shoulder and holding it in both hands, her stance firm and ready. “Turn and face the answer for your crimes, Gitrog!”
	For a moment, the discolored mass in the water stopped. Then, slowly it turned and made its way towards the beach. Americia backed up until she was on firmer footing, her absurdly over-armored body not exactly adept at combat in the sand or the water. As it crept closer and closer to her, she realized just how large it was. At first its size was comical – who’d ever heard of a frog as big as that – but soon it became intimidating. One colossal front leg after another landed on the sand of the beach and the beast pulled itself out of the water.
	Another thing that Americia hadn’t anticipated was how large its eyes were. No frog she’d ever seen had eyes like that, eyes that were not only massive, but dark and black and empty. As she looked at them, a strange feeling of weightlessness began to overtake her. The darkness in the Gitrog’s eyes was infectious, contagious, and she could feel it creeping into her brain. They loomed wider and wider in her vision, making it more and more difficult for her mind to dislodge itself. A realization came over her: she could hunt for the Gitrog. Give the Gitrog meals. Sacrifice to the Gitrog. Do exactly as the Gitrog commands.
	Wait. Do as it commands? Obey the Gitrog?
	That’s not FREEDOM.
	All at once, the darkness around her thoughts shattered into a thousand pieces and she raised her hammer again. With a wordless yell and with her weapon held high, she charged at the monstrous amphibian, her eyes shining with the light of the sun.
	If a gigantic frog with no complicated facial muscles could show surprise on its face, then that’s what the Gitrog was managing as Americia charged towards it. Soundlessly, it opened its mouth and its powerful tongue came whipping out with lightning-fast speed, a blur through the air as it smacked the blonde Planeswalker square in the chest. The wind was knocked from Americia’s lungs as she careened off to the right, landing with a heavy thud on the ground. After taking a few moments to recover, she got right back up and charged again. And again, the Gitrog’s tongue swung through the air faster than she could even see it and sent her flying back. The Gitrog did not seem willing to grant her a third chance as its powerful leg muscles bunched up and then released. It leapt through the air, trying to land on top of the Planeswalker and end her in a single, monstrous hop.
	Americia had maintained a tenuous grip on her hammer, and for the second time that day it flew out of her hands – only this time, it was intentional. The enormous, heavy maul launched up into the air as the blonde frantically rolled away from the frog’s eventual impact point. As the frog reached the descent of its jump, her hammer connected with its jaw. She had never heard a frog growl before, but that was more or less what came out of the Gitrog’s throat as it crashed unceremoniously onto the ground, its lower jaw cracked and in agony from the impact of the Planeswalker’s hammer. With a roar of fury, it turned towards her and lifted a single front leg, aiming it at Americia and slamming it down.
	Once again, she was barely able to roll away from the impact as she reached down and unsheathe her hedron blades. Without any delicacy or purpose, she started slashing up at the Gitrog’s underbelly, the fiercely sharpened stone blades hacking through its flesh and causing its discolored blood to come gushing out of the wounds. It growled again, taking a few unsteady steps back and trying to get her within easy stomping range again. As its front legs were occupied with moving it back, Americia took her chance. She got up onto her knees, then, flexing her powerful legs, brought herself to her feet and plunged both blades up through the bottom of the Gitrog’s mouth in one violent motion.
	Now something that very closely resembled a strangled scream left the Gitrog’s profusely bleeding mouth, and it flailed its front legs forward in a blind rage, knocked Americia down onto her backside with her swords still embedded in its jaw. It furiously, pointlessly swung its head from side to side, as if trying to dislodge the stone weapons buried firmly through the underside of its mouth. Its legs continued to flail in her general direction, trying to keep her away as its wickedly evil, but decidedly simple mind tried to discern how to end the pain in its mouth.
	Americia shakily got back onto her feet, and a dull pain in her chest told her that one of her ribs might have been bruised. Setting her jaw and ignoring the pain, she took a few more steps back and reached back under her cloak. Although she preferred hand-to-hand fighting, she always kept her bow and arrows with her, just in case. Even she, with her absurd capabilities in the field of carrying lots of weaponry, could only reasonably keep a couple arrows on her, so she silently vowed to make them count as she raised her bow. She didn’t need a precise shot, and she probably wouldn’t get one with the way the Gitrog continued to violently shake its head. One arrow fired off and embedded itself in the monstrous frog’s shoulder, causing it to growl again, but not distracting it enough from the pain in its mouth. Hoping that the second one would be enough, she fired off another arrow, this time landing in the upward-curving slope of the Gitrog’s hunched back.
	This seemed to be enough to spur it into action, as it turned towards her and charged in a blind fury. She tossed her bow to one side and raised her fists, silently watching and waiting. Just as the enormous amphibian was almost upon her, she sidestepped and threw a single-full body punch at where she sincerely hoped its head would be in another moment. Her attack hit true, and she felt the claws of her modified gauntlets sink into the Gitrog’s head. Unfortunately, the force of her swing was so great that she went flying forward with it, and as the Gitrog’s body curved violently off to on side with the power of her blow, she went spinning around it, th front of her body eventually smacking into the monster’s face. Her claw was embedded in the Gitrog’s skull, and despite her greatest efforts she could not pull it out. The frog stirred, and it occurred to her that her current position put her right in front of its monstrous gullet. Even with its jaw cracked and bleeding, it could still eat her! She would have to act, and fast!
	Drawing back her free hand, she began to furiously pummel the Gitrog’s forehead. Again and again her metal gauntlet slammed into it, trying to break through its thick skull and hopefully pulverize its brain. She felt the muscles in her arms screaming with exertion as she punched the Gitrog in the face a dozen times, and then another dozen times. A few times, the monster seemed to have almost gotten its bearings back enough to open its mouth, but her frantic punches had sufficiently damaged its simple brain to the point that it couldn’t react fast enough. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of punching, the frog’s legs gave out and it fell forward, dead.
	Americia panted heavily, reaching over and yanking her other claw out of the frog’s head. She blearily stared at its lifeless eyes and slurred out, “Another victory…for freedom!” Although she was about ready to fall over, she took a step forward and planted a foot on the fallen frog’s head, striking a heroic pose for no one to see.



	It was the next morning by the time Americia had rested sufficiently to return to town. As she dragged herself through the streets and reached the front of the tavern from earlier, she saw to her pleasant surprise that Elizabeth and Francoise were there, anxiously waiting for her.
	“I say!” cried Elizabeth, rushing forward. “She bally well did it! She’s vanquished the blighter!”
	“Oh, mon dieu! I cannot believe it!” Francoise dashed forward and once again clung to Americia’s shoulder. “Oh, mon cheri, ‘ow can we EVER repay you?” she crooned, running a hand down the Planeswalker’s patriotically prominent and well-armored bust.
	“Just thinking the same thing, if you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge,” Elizabeth said with a grin. “Nothing wrong with a bit of this ‘n’ that, if you catch my meaning.”
	Americia smiled at the two women, but shook her head. “Oh, it’s all in a day’s work, ladies,” she said. “And as for your offer, I’m afraid I can’t accept.” She walked past the two of them and started off back towards Nephalia.
	Francoise pouted. “Oh, but why? You are so ‘andsome!” she cooed, fluttering her eyelashes. Although Elizabeth said nothing to this effect, her body language mimicked the sentiment.
	The Planeswalker looked over her shoulder with a grin. “I’ve got a gal back home,” she said.
	Elizabeth and Francoise clasped their arms in front of their chests and watched as Americia strode heroically off into the sunset. “Our hero!” they sighed in unison.
	And so, two innocent souls were saved from the scourge of eldritch Communism that had swept over Innistrad. But there were many more lives to save, and much more liberty to protect.
	Americia’s work was just beginning.