Rose's blows landed true, and she was rewarded with the familiar, if squelchy, sound of exploding Ogre eyeballs. She slammed down to the ground, landing feet first, and wrenched her needlewands back out of the sockets.

This ogre was more resilient than the last one; it was still alive. Though not being face-down in a river might have something to do with that.

This one, being unprototyped, lacked any accessories of dubious utility which she could exploit. Instead, she went with repeating an already-successful gambit. She stabbed her wands back down in its eyes, whispering consonant-laden phrases in a doomed tongue, and hoping her magic would continue to cooperate and reach the Stygian depths of its cranial casing.