The Australian bush was sweltering. The Yowie, a hulking ape-man of the outback, roared a challenge. Blood-Curling Howl. It was the king of this territory.
From a cave emerged a Scandinavian Troll. It was confused, hot, and smelled of wet granite. It had been displaced by magic and just wanted a cool rock to sleep under.
The Yowie saw the intruder and charged.
The Throw
The Yowie picked up a boulder the size of a hatchback. Boulder Hurl. It launched the rock with terrifying force.
The Troll didn't dodge. It simply stood there.
THUD.
The boulder bounced off the Troll’s chest. The Troll wasn't flesh; it was living stone. It grunted, annoyed.
The Stone
The Troll reached out. Stone-Caller.
The boulder that had hit him rolled back to his feet. He picked it up. He squeezed it until it crumbled into gravel.
"Soft rock," the Troll muttered.
The Yowie charged, swinging a massive fist. It punched the Troll in the jaw.
CRACK.
The Yowie howled in pain. It had broken its hand on the Troll's granite skin. The Troll sighed. It reached out, grabbed the Yowie by the scruff, and sat on him. The sheer weight of the stone creature pinned the marsupial beast to the ground. The Troll closed its eyes, enjoying the shade of the eucalyptus, while the Yowie struggled in vain beneath the living statue.