As if listening to its identity be uttered, the Ogre Tyrant roared out with a booming voice that vibrated the large ship, "All of you will be me sustenance! Failure is not permitted! I shall feast on your feeble flesh and find myself a new cry!"
With this proclamation, the tyrannical captain stomped across the deck, catching a pair of goblins in his mighty hands that easily dwarfed the small creature--squeezing his gauntlet-clad fist shut as a stomach-churning squelch released from the crushing of the goblins.
Around his arms was fabric, aged to an old gray that had been stained with blood and other liquids--wrapping around his arms like winged sleeves.
"No way…" He muttered, holding a look of disgust.
They watched as the Ogre Tyrant reared his head back, opening his fist above his mouth as the mangled mess of twisted goblins and blood fell into his maw.
