IX: Slowly, the beast looked down at his new adversary. Torrid breath steamed rhythmically through the holes in his steel mask. Its scarred body screamed the tales of countless battles, none of them lost. Farinfoor tightened his grip, hoping perhaps to give the thing one more wound to tend before it dispatched him. The wall of flesh stared down at Farinfoor through entombed eyes for what felt like an epoch. Then it looked up.
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