a bitter, over-smoked, and thoroughly broiled landscape seethed under the Lazerhawke. 

moving with the hot air currents and flying with an apparent listlessness, the aging General's stomach grumbled and moaned. The damned Lizard-men of El Shon-ul-Dur baked in large groups and gave a passing notice to the hawke above them. They knew they were safe from the predator in their groups and with an unconscious movement shifted closer to each other -- brushing leathery skin on leathery skin. 

hunger dropping like a stone in the Lazerhawke's stomach, he prepared himself for the cull. warming up his killing muscles he tensed and loosened until the blood began pumping hot and the hunger's ache became the berzerker's rage. The General dropped on the Lizard-Men as a dazzling lazer-bolt; ozone bubble around him. 

with an expected quickness the Lizard-men shifted and reformed to dodge their enemies attacks and weapons, before unseen, became apparent -- bone spears, dagger teeth, and eggshell bombs. From the Lazerhawke's feathers darted rainbow lazers searing the already hot lizard flesh and the Lizard-men screamed their hissing scream. 

A bone spear caught the Lazerhawke under the wing and oil-slick blood sprayed over a group of the Lizard-men and they lost a moment to distraction as they lapped it up off of each other. Seeing his moment, General Lazerhawke used his lazer-sharp talons and grabbed two of the rotten beasts and took to the sulfur-ridden air. 

it was a hard victory and the blood lost was replaced with the blood fed. brooding he thought of his army shattered in years past, that his rage remains unabated, that his hate of Lizard-men was as unending as his belly.

he slept with the meat of the lizard-men inside of him dreaming of lightning flashes and shattered eggs.  

lazerhawke | hazy ipa w/ citra, centennial, & cascade hops | 7.4% abv