[center][b]Freggin’ it up in the Northern Sakabanatu Desert[/b][/center]

	A sick guitar solo had just finished shredding as we begin our scene…

	The sand has subsided after a long and grueling sandstorm. The mighty bullman, Freg, had been forced to walk through it, his grizzled fur powdered with the golden sand. It had been quite some time since he left the company of Aristal and each day his journey grew closer and closer to his target: the Sondoper Tree. Despite lugging his mighty axe, and his incredibly large book upon his back, he seemed full of vigor, or as much vigor as one can expect from an elderly bull man with a weighing conscience full of existential duty.

	As he traveled closer to the heart of the desert, away from the cooling canals of the trade river, or the friendly yurts of Juntu, his pace quickened rather than slowed, an itch in his mind urging him to make it to the hidden oasis by the tree, an itch to fulfill an important event in the story he now found himself apart of.

	As he wandered in both mindful ponderings and his trek across the burning sands, his ancient eyes scanned the endless blue horizon, a feeling of unease in his chest. It was true that he was not alone, and not the only thing brought into this world from the sanctuary under the well, and he was well aware of what would eventually come after him, even if in vain. 

	He stopped suddenly, the sands had flattened where he stood and the great eye of the sun shot down at him with such intensity it would bring any normal being to their knees. Freg did not flinch, for he knew what was to come. 

	The sky disappeared around him, the azure being replaced with a sinister black swirled upon a sickly purple, and then with a colorless flash, the sky was back, but the sun seemed dim where he stood and shadows fell where there were no clouds. A hissing laughter erupted around the bull man and he lifted his axe at the ready, his face emotionless. 

	One by one, monsterous creatures of chitin appeared out of rips in reality, walking forward on two legs ended with claws, and pointed sinister knife like fingers at the great bullman. The dark creatures hissed past rows of bloodied teeth, and coughed up bubbling black ichor as they laughed. Freg lifted his axe above his head, “Tharntin, Yortorg!” he chanted angrily in a language unknown  to this world. 

	“Y-yo--yortorg… t-t-tu-und-dir...ha-ha-harn..” one of the beasts gurgled.

	What could only be described as a terrible and grim looked washed over Freg’s face and what a bullman would call a macabre grin was formed on his bull-like mouth. In a unifying screech that shook the very sands, the terrible beasts began their hideous onslaught, claws flashing and flying through the air as they closed in on their prey, making sure to surround the lone bull. 
	Freg’s axe slammed down into the sands, and from it a cone of fire erupted, blasting a line through the beasts in front of him with a great roar of inferno. Those caught in the magical flames were rendered into many pieces from the blast and those who survived squirmed and screamed as their chitin shrank and burned away under the intense heat of the explosion.

	The other sides were closing in. One brave beast leapt before his companions towards Freg’s back. The air rippled behind Freg as the beast’s claws were mere inches from his rune covered book and the sound of the air cracking boomed as an invisible shockwave sent the beast hurdling backwards over the lines of his still approaching comrades, arms dangling out of their sockets. 

The rest of the horde was upon Freg, and with a mighty kick he was forced to leap into the air. Launched high above the black horde below Freg spun his axe, the world tinting crimson as he screamed, “YOOOORTOOOOOOORG!”

The beasts could be heard screaming back, be it fear or hatred, if one listened closely they could even hear Freg’s name being cursed in some sick alien language as the bull man fell back to the earth. The area was engulfed in an orb of white hot flames, the sand below melting as Fregs axe rippled into the ground, summoning a massive explosion around the bullman, and launching the immediate horde away in a mess of gore and fire.

Without giving the remaining horde time to react or respond, Freg stomped through the battlefield of limbs, chitin and ichor, slamming his axe repeatedly with every step, and summoning a pillar of flames with each strike. Blood and chitin rained from the red sky as a soft chant  graced Freg’s lips. His eyes glazed over, his steps quickened, and his flames grew brighter.

The few beasts who survived the initial onslaught screeched, letting their voices rip through the air towards the approaching bullman. Freg slowed only as the screeches hit him, rippling the air around him, but he did not stop. The bullman’s form shimmered for a moment, disappearing for an instant, then with a clap the figure reformed closer to the beasts, axe cleaving through the creature’s head with a loud boom. The creature’s body was strewn in every direction as the axe finished it’s deadly arc, and at the sight, the rest of the beasts began their retreat. 

One in particular breathed heavily as it sprinted as fast as its clawed feet could take it. It dared not look back as it heard the pounding of hooves chasing it and its remaining siblings. There was a sick crack as the sounds of those running with him on his right were suddenly silenced, intense heat burning its right side. The beast continued its retreat when suddenly screams erupted from its left side, the rest of the horde falling to the bull man. 

It heard the hooves, and it heard the alien pounding of what could be called a heart bang against its chest cavity. Then it saw it, a tear in reality. Screeching with joy the creature slipped through the crack, landing in a land far from its greatest enemy.