Svangar axe

Svangar wasn’t a dummy, though. He knew he was slower.
So he twisted his blazing axe, melted a bunch of the street’s asphalt into a blob of burning tar that could have filled a small hot tub, and flung it at me even before he’d begun to turn.
I dodged that one easily enough—but Svangar had never intended to turn me into a living, screaming tar baby. As the Jotun turned, he simply seized a disabled car in one hand and flung it at me sidearm at the speed of a major-league fastball.

Battle Ground Chapter 21, Page 199