Drew On- Vs. Lizards

The Lizardmen rushed Drew, all four attacking in clumsy unison. These weren’t the odds I’d hoped for, thought Drew, bounding over their heads as they dived across the stone table. He landed with a clang on the grille, just behind the slowest of them. He lashed out his leg, clawed feet tearing the top-heavy one’s hamstring in two and putting him out of action.

Down to three.

The fattest Lizard leaped back over the table, directly on top of Drew, but the Werewolf was ready for him, catching him on his clawed feet. His knees compressed up to his chin as the monstrous mouth snapped inches from his face and scaly hands clawed at Drew’s throat. The grille vent groaned and buckled beneath the impact of their combined weight. Drew snarled and kicked back. The fat Lizardlord’s eyes widened as he was propelled through the air, disappearing over the balcony’s edge.

Two down. Two to go.

Drew jumped away from the grille, landing before the stone throne. Ignus and his last sibling separated, the lanky one snatching a silver spear from a fallen guard.

“It’s been a while since I slew another therian,” the Lizard rasped, Ignus grinning at his side.

“I’d like to say the same,” said Drew.

The Lizard lunged, but Drew parried the spear away with the trident dagger. The reptile came a second time, and Drew knocked him the other way. Snarling, the Lizard put his weight behind the spear, stabbing high at Drew’s chest. The Wolf caught hold of the spear in the crux of the trident dagger, its progress halting. His foe looked shocked as Drew bit down on the wooden pole, snapping the gleaming blade off. Before he could react, Drew buried the spearhead in the Lizard’s chest, the hapless therian still clutching the broken spear shaft as black blood gushed from his bosom.

And then there was one.

B3 P3 C2