The group made their way down into the depths of the marshes entering the burrow of the warmog. The strong taste and burning sensation of the Tingil piss remained in their mouths during their entire descent, however, the effects of the potion were clear, their irises were dilated and their shape became more cat-like. It was strange to be able to see so clearly in the dark, especially considering the pain they now felt when looking into the bright world outside, depending on how long they took to take care of the warmog they would have to spend some time waiting out the effects of the potion lest they become blind by waltzing around outside under its effects. The warmog’s burrow was surprisingly smooth, if Zalrodal didn’t know better he might have guessed stenjin were at work in the marshes but Drok’Ir made it very clear that it smelled like warmog all the way there, and now that they were in the cave themselves they could smell it too. It was a strange smell, not a particularly nice one like a mix of freshly tilled dirt and wet dog but it could certainly be worse, the goblins private quarters came to mind.

Zalrodal could not calculate the passing of time down in the caves, they could have been walking for hours for all he knew although descending for so long seemed rather unlikely. They continued marching down the slope their figures a strange glowing grey in their eyes, Zalrodal could recognise the different colours in the darkness although they all seemed much more muted than they would usually be. The potion was quite spectacular, he made sure to remember to ask for more to be made once they were out of this cave, one thing was being able to see well at night like his goblins the other was to have vision in a pitch-black room. The smell of the warmog grew stronger the deeper they went, Drok’Ir was slowing his pace with the increasing strength of the odour till he moved in a slow silent crawl towards the source of the smell. Suddenly the large troll raised one of his blue hands and pointed the other into the darkness. A cavern formed in their vision as they looked forward and in the middle of it lay a large creature, curled up much the same way a cat would.

Zalrodal looked at the creature in front of him in detail while it still slept and was significantly less murderous towards him and his party. As Drok’Ir said a grey trunk lay sprawled out in front of its face. He could tell the line at which the warmog’s carapace ended and was instead replaced by thick brown fur covering which covered most of its underbelly, the ten legs that belonged to the creature were covered in carapace towards the outside and looked fur covered the backside. The creature would not seem very threatening if it weren’t for the small detail that the claws on its ten feet were about the size of Zalrodal’s body and even under the effects of the potion he could tell how sharp they were by only looking at them. The beast slayer turned towards him and whispered, “Well, here we are. That’s a warmog, not a very large one, not a small one either though,” Zalrodal thought that this particular specimen was more than large enough, “If possible I suggest we cut into its neck from below to avoid the carapace for a decisive blow, if that isn’t possible go for its eyes and then strike wherever you see no armour,” The beast slayer’s instructions seemed simple enough but nothing was ever simple when fighting an enormous beast.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

They tried to form a circle around the warmog, the goblins approached from the back, the two stenjin from the front to take the brunt of any attack and Zalrodal and Drok’Ir approached from the flank looking for an attack to the creature's neck. Unfortunately, a surprise attack was difficult when two of the members in the attack were massive stone creatures who made too much noise even when trying their hardest not to. The warmog roused in from its sleep opening two black eyes and staring straight at the stenjin. The creature’s body uncurled sending a massive wave of dust and dirt in every direction and charged at the stenjin. It made a grab for one of the stenjin’s with its trunk, the stenjin grabbed the trunk instead and tried to pull at it to create an opening. The other stenjin, Blackrock wasn’t as lucky and received the brunt of the clawed attack, luckily its stone body protected it from most of the damage, although chips of black stone sprayed out from where it was struck. This was the first time Zalrodal had seen one of the stenjin be injured, and if those claws could break through stone he did not want to see what they would do to him.

Zalrodal and the beast slayer charged through a could of dust at the warmog’s neck. As they were about to reach the neck the creature spotted them and spun in place, knocking the two attackers away as it repositioned itself to face a new threat. The stenjin moved in front of their master to block the next attack from the warmog’s claws causing another round of stone splinters to fly through the air as they grabbed the beast’s paws in their stone hands. As the stenjin wrestled with the warmog’s paws Drok’Ir and Zalrodal charged at the creature’s underbelly. The warmog’s body suddenly vaulted upwards flinging the stenjin away from it as it raised its body on its back legs. Zalrodal looked at the ground under the warmog and saw that Rigrig and another goblin stood under it, their green bodies completely covered in blood. The goblins had sneaked under the warmog from behind and cut a large gash into its belly. The gash was bleeding heavily and the warmog’s brown fur was tainted red.

The warmog crashed down from its standing position making the earth shake under its weight. The goblins were still under its body but were scrambling to get out from the cage of legs around them. The stenjin stood up and charged at the warmog, they grabbed its head from both sides and made turned so that it was forced to flip upside down. Zalrodal charged after the warmog, he jumped on the stenjin and then onto the creature’s exposed neck and slash downward with his dark blade. A fountain of blood shot out from where he struck the creature, he saw Rigrig standing close behind him stabbing left and right at the creatures exposed body till it stopped moving. Zalrodal and Drok’Ir spent the better part of the next hour trying to detach the massive head from the warmog’s body and attaching it to the stenjin with some rope so that they could bring it back to the troll village. The goblins passed their time by stabbing the warmog in different spots their bodies becoming increasingly covered in blood although the only one who truly didn’t seem to mind was Rigrig.