Book 3: “Death On Mt. Undenkhark!” Page 47
IN THIS CORNER, THE HEAVY, HEAVY HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONS OF THE WYRLD—THE OGRES!
or
TRAPPED IN A GAUNTLET OF OGRE POWER
Cognescentii greetings, most honored reader!
Let’s leave Darya and Lucretius for a moment and look a few tunnels over to their would-be rescuers, our heroes, Bryan, Seth, and Nikki, who are having their own problems trying to escape the local Ogre tribe. Whew! Do they have their hands full! (and their feet too, I suppose…). As Nikki so adroitly pointed out, “My mystic blast fried the Grocs, but this Ogre barely seems to feel it.” Ogres are in a completely different weight class (literally!).
Nikki’s mystical blasts barely faze the monsters, Bryan is reduced to hammering knees, shins, and toes (while trying to avoid getting a mouthful of Size 46 EXTRA-EXTRA-EXTRA WIDE in the process), and only Seth seems to be holding his own—but barely.
Indeed, as long-time readers may recall, I long ago pointed out the danger of fighting an Ogre (specifically, in my report, “Ogres: Not Just Big Fat Guys”). Among their natural weapons, I counted first and foremost, their massive size, strength, and weight. Naturally, averaging ten feet tall and a thousand pounds in weight, this is obvious. However, anyone with the guts and courage to go up against an Ogre also needs to consider the Ogre’s fangs and talons, not to mention natural body armor in the form of a thick layer of blubber.
Whatever they do, our friends had better do it fast. The Ogres are closing in, and as usual… they’re hungry!
Until next time, most honored reader, I have the honor of remaining yours,
With Cognescentii blessings,