"Get down, man," St. Cyprian said, shoving Wendy-Smythe aside as the Nkonde nail-fetish statue pounced. As Wendy-Smythe fell, St. Cyprian danced back, narrowly avoiding the statue's fists as they smashed down, splintering the floorboards. The statue was made of wood, but it was hard with age and covered in a porcupine's coat of bent nails. Crudely-carved eyes glared hatefully from grimacing features as the construct hopped towards them, moving stiffly but quickly. It reeked of enchantment,...