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    Summary

    “Is that,” the beast begins, disturbingly even keel, and while Jayce was expecting his jaw to unhinge like a serpent’s, nothing in his flat face, or the ones at its sides, moves, “an arcane powered crossbow hammer?”

    Not even a sight so unseemly can stay Jayce’s tongue about his proudest invention. “That’s right.”

    The creature tilts its head, owl-like. Its joints stutter with the motion, gears misaligned and ungreased snapping in and out of place. “I commend you for your ingenuity. It is… a remarkable contraption.”

    “Thank you,” he says, then blinks. “Let me show you how it works,” and with a click, the hammer splits open as three bolts shoot out in the monster’s direction.

    *

    or: In the ravine surrounding Piltover, there lives a monster. Every summer solstice, it is fed. This year, that sacrifice happens to be Jayce.

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