They Called it the Torch-Maker

Ursul and Grendel held their axes at the ready. They weren’t afraid to challenge wandering fiends this deep into Galli’s woodlands.

The two barbarians were renowned. Their fame came from finding new and useful substances in their kills: hides, bones, chitin, blood, fur… it was all fair game.

Ursul eyed the fiend’s scaled back. “Perfect for armour,” Ursul muttered to Grendel.

The fiend was within charging distance, so Ursul initiated the assault. Instantly, the fiend snorted a stream of mucus from its nose. It was oily and thick.

Ursul and the fiend collided. The fiend struck with deadly speed. Its claws sparked as they traveled through the air and struck Ursul. The mucus ignited, consuming him in flames.

Grendel entered the fray with passionate fury as Ursul dropped to the ground to snuff out the flame.

They eventually defeated the fiend, of course.

Grendel cut off its head. “Perfect for lighting torches,” he said to the still-smoking Ursul.

They both chuckled as they made their way back to camp.

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