The creatures met on the grasslands between the second and third trench lines, and the earth broke.
The Hydra came from the east — three heads raised, golden eyes blazing, the oil-slick scales streaming marsh water that evaporated in the heat of divine energy radiating from its body. Gorthan rode the dorsal platform behind the central head, his scarred hands locked into the thorn grips, his body leaning with the creature's movement the way a sailor leaned with a ship in heavy seas.
The Thornwyrm came from the south. Living wood in serpentine form — bark-plated coils grinding across the broken ground, thorn ridges scraping furrows in the earth, acidic sap dripping from the joints between its articulated segments. Where the sap touched grass, the grass died. Where it touched stone, the stone smoked. Siltjaw, the Frogman Warden, crouched in a hollowed cavity near the creature's head, his webbed hands pressed against the inner wood, channeling commands through the Warden bond.
