The scout creature fell, finally, after what felt like an eternity of combat.
Karathra stood over its corpse, breathing hard, her axe dripping with ichor that smelled like rotting meat. Around her, the other masters were in similar states, exhausted and wounded, but alive.
The answering roars from the other scouts had grown closer during the fight, but now they'd stopped. Karathra couldn't decide if that was good or bad.
"It's not dead," Lady Pelica observed. She'd moved closer during the final moments of the battle, though she still hadn't participated. "Look."
Karathra looked. The creature's flesh was moving, twitching, slowly beginning to knit back together. Even with the massive damage they'd inflicted, after Hrothgar had literally torn one of its arms off, the thing was regenerating.
"How do we kill it permanently?"
