Stuff

It strode through the cratered hole where the gates had stood. A crude, clanking ork machine-thing lumbered forward to meet it. The burning god advanced on it, ignoring the pounding hail of shells from the machine’s weapon arm which hammered against its iron skin. Reaching the machine, the burning god severed the thing’s clumsy power-claw limb with one blow from its wailing blade.

Shadow Point