Stabs the Fiend

I thrust the silver spear up into his side. There was momentary resistance, then a spurt of black blood. I pushed it upwards even harder, deep into his hairy hide. The Fiend screamed, a noise that stabbed into my eardrums; a cry of pain and anger with the power to split the earth asunder and make the very stones bleed. It buffeted me so hard that I lost my concentration – and my grip on time.

B8 C22