"I got you…" The words, though weakly said, sounded like a torrential storm to Gimli, who was now in the grip of Ossa, Ossa's weak gaze staring at the brick, staring directly at Gimli's soul.
His angry and menacing look was completely nullified by the weakness and fatigue his face showed. His eyes half-open, the only fuel pushing him now, being his will for revenge.
Despite him seemingly standing on his last legs, his grip was full of vitality, cracks beginning to form on the brick.
A brick not quite as tough as sunstone, it was as tough if not tougher, than black iron, yet it began to crack under Ossa's grip, the latter weakly staring at the brick.
Gimli began to scream in pain, as Ossa had imbued his hand with dragonic energy, touching the very essence of his soul.
