Another Way

Grabbing Poitirus's spear as it was sent floating his way, Loimos approached the felled beast, it had managed to pull itself by the bootstraps at one point, this was a good thing, it would make for a good undead, its body dimming, Loimos pierced its brain with a bone spike, making it into a proud servant of death, as for Poitirus, he had been caught by surprise by the beast's sudden understanding in how to utilise its power, losing an arm and half of his face, damage which was harder to recuperate from due to the nature of divinity.

A dark with hints of bright gold washed over the mistborn, healing his injuries, Loimos spoke in death tongue to the beast, it did not answer, but nodded its headless neck to show understanding, that was a good harvest, and it was nearly a certainty that many other creatures were just waiting to be made into followers of Nitok, from the smallest of algae to the largest of beasts.