Cleaning Out the Basement (Part 2)

The Stormfleeces didn't stand a chance, as the stinging stench of their singed fur and spilled blood stained the musty air of the fort prison.

"Fools!" Lorica said, standing triumphantly with her leg propped on one of the Norn corpses. "You underestimated me because of my size, but look where that got you!" She gave a maniacal laugh. "I have claimed the lives of hundreds, with my masterful swordplay!" 

One Norn, that was still alive, rolled onto his back clutching its wounded side with a pained groan. 

"Shut it, weakling!" Lorica snapped.

"It hurts! It hurts! Ahhhhh!"

"So pathetic!" Lorica teased, moving over to the wounded bear. "If you won't shut up on your own, then I'll just have to" —adopting a sinister scowl, she turned and sat herself upon the bear's agonized face—"stuff that fat, stupid mouth of yours!"