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.
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