Gahh, they're multiplying!
Gotta finish that arena. Gotta finish it soon.
I'll kill those troglodytes. I'll kill ALL those troglodytes.
----------------------------
Great, these jokers again.
No matter. This time, I know what to sell them.
We've been cranking out copperwork and ironwork like crazy, but our silver has remained untouched! Why not use it?
For this minor investment on our part, we obtain more ore, some weaponry, and a glut of beak dogs.
BEAK DOGS.
I know just what I'm gonna use these for, too.
----------------------------
Uh oh.
Everyone, kill it! Killit killit killit!
At this exact moment, I kid you not--
Migrants. Wonderful. Just... just stay out of our way, alright guys? Please?
----------------------------
The werelizard's strikes and bites do little against copper--
--so it tries something else.
----------------------------
One of our war trolls closes...
...a mistake. Now the werelizard has something worth sinking teeth into!
The troll falls back, terrified, and the were wheels on Nord the expedition-commander.
Nord fights back valiantly.
A war beak arrives, and the fight descends into a wild scrummage, blades flashing and jaws snapping.
The were bites on limb; its teeth find no purchase against the armor--
--and so it opens its jaws to an unnatural gape, clamping down upon Azstrog the fish cleaners's entire head! Azstrog's eyes widen in fear...
...and the were proceeds to shake him around like a rat terrier, tearing nerve and tendon apart. Azstrog collapses to the ground with ruined spine, paralyzed, doomed to death.
----------------------------
Nord brings his axe once again to bear, vengeance in his eyes.
His companions join him, and slowly but surely the were weakens.
Its strikes, once fearsome, are now half-hearted
and an enterprising swordsgoblin closes to deal one final blow.
Utes the werelizard is dead of bloodloss before it hits the ground. It has mortally wounded one, crippled a second, and infected two further in its rampage.