The bronze sentinel towered over the bridge, one giant foot planted firmly on either side. Its armored head stared forward, eyes, if it had them, concealed beneath a polished visor. It reflected the light of the twin suns, a beacon to travelers for miles. In its great metal hands it held a giant ax, bound with spidery runes that crackled with power during the frequent storms that wracked the region. It called to terrible lightning, protecting the bridge by absorbing and storing the heavenly blasts in some ancient battery concealed within the thing’s body by the wizard-engineer that built it.