With a choked gurgling sound the beast produced a mass of phlegm which it hurled, engulfing the fireball in an explosion of steam and bile. The warrior only chuckled as he parried the sword thrust that immediately followed. Two, three, four more times the blades met, each time illuminating the cave with sparks.

A few scrabbling steps the beast retreated, its head heavy with over-sized jaws lolling from side to side in confusion.

“Not accustomed to being well matched, are we?” the warrior taunted.

“Weeras tu?” came the slurred challenge, a voice as dark and dank as the cave itself.

“Ah, you speak the old tongue. How quaint.” The warrior charged, his mighty blade carving great arcs through the still air and sending the beast retreating farther into the stone bowels.

“Weeras tu, klepth?” the thing queried again.

“My name, cursed one? You dare ask?!” The blade swung again. “You…” and again, “…don’t…” and again, “…deserve…” and once more, “…to know, save that I am your doom.”