Andronikos watched with blithe satisfaction as his archers fired volley after volley of arrows at the defenders on the town wall, each met with a chorus of screams and plummeting bodies. As effective as this tactic was against the town militia, however, the Orestians’ armor was more than adequate to protect against the wooden arrows used by the levy archers. Selceus had put him in command of a rather poorly supplied and equipped regiment: with the exception of his bronze-clad hetairoi bodyguards, his forces consisted mostly of levied troops, many of whom had never before fought in a siege. This was an experiment, a test by Selceus to see what Andronikos could do with the figurative bottom of the barrel. So far, Andronikos reckoned that he was doing quite alright. Already, a few groups of shieldbearers had made it up their ladders and begun fighting on the ramparts, buying time for the more vulnerable phalangites to scale the walls and form a spear wall unmolested.

Andronikos was sure that the Orestians had realized the futility of their predicament when they began hastily shouting and rushing to and fro across the town wall. He was struck, then, with an intense worry when his own men started doing the same. Formations broke, combat disengaged, and the raging battle on the wall ground to a standstill. Everyone was gazing back to Andronikos… no, not to him, but behind him. Behind him…

Andronikos turned hesitantly around, wondering what possibly warranted such pause. A Q’thumani army intercepting the siege? Reinforcements, perhaps under Selceus himself? One of the deadly sandstorms that often swept the area? Andronikos felt queasy as he took in the sight for himself.

Two giantesses strode directly towards the siege with paralyzing intensity, their gaze set unmistakably on the battle at hand. Their every footfall left a cloud of dust large enough to engulf a man, and a noise to match. They were not nude in the fashion of the slave giants used for war, but clad in clothes of fabric thick enough to serve as armor against any normally sized weapon.

Andronikos panicked almost immediately. The defenders were relatively safe within the town’s walls, but the Selcenians had no such buffer, nor did they have the necessary armaments for fighting the giants. Andronikos gathered his hetairoi and other officers close with a series of frantic shouts and waves. He figured that he had a minute at best before the giants were upon him, and knew that he needed to act fast.

“Give the order to retreat! Scream it to all those who would listen! We’ll regroup at Pylis Pass - that’s where Selceus last set up a war camp - and see how many soldiers make it back. Now go! Go! Fly as if your lives depend on it, for they very well may!” Andronikos exclaimed, but he quickly doubled back and pointed at two of his hetairoi, “On second thought, you two are with me. Grab as much food and water as you can carry and follow me!” 

In the commotion of the impromptu retreat, Andronikos was oblivious to the lithe figure in a grey longcoat that scaled the stony town wall with neither ladder nor rope, swinging from nook to cranny before leaping to the top mere paces away from the Orestian legatus.

~

“Volkhard!” Firkon exclaimed, barely processing the events that were occurring, “What in the name of the First Emperor happened! There are two of them now! Two! What did you do? I do-”

“Get a hold of yourself, Firkon! Think straight!” Volkhard barked, “You know I am not responsible for this. I was prepared to fight one giant, but two made the problem far more complicated. How did you get into this situation? I leave at the sun’s zenith and it only takes you until sunset to get yourself involved in a war? Do you understand the diplomatic repercussions that might arise from this stunt?”
“The First Emperor stated that we must set aside wars among ourselves in the name of vanquishing the giants, something that these Selcenian dogs seem not to understand!”

“Get with the times! The First Emperor was dead before you were alive, Firkon! The laws he instituted are as obsolete and powerless as the council he established to arbite them, now full of puppets and fools! Now, I want you to listen to me closely. We do not intervene in whatever goes on out there, okay? I don’t care how much you want to kill the giantess, now is absolutely not the time. The Selcenians would see every last one of your men butchered given the chance. Spare your men, and let the Selcenians fight giants themselves in your stead. Perhaps they’ll gain an appreciation for the difficulty of the task.”

Firkon’s jaw dropped.

“Are you too suggesting we abandon our task in favor of waging this war?”

“I am suggesting you temporarily pause your pursuit of it in favor of surviving! The Selcenians cannot afford to let you escape and risk war with Orestion. They will show no quarter.”

“I would rather die with my honor intact than live in disgrace! If we let her go now, who knows how many more will die before we fight her again!”

“Not as many as the Selcenians will kill, I assure you that!” Volkhard spat, now incensed, “You made an oath to follow my instructions unquestioningly. Do not be a fool, Firkon! We can argue once this is done. We will not intervene in whatever happens next, and that is final.”

Firkon grit his teeth, but he ultimately decided on complying. Volkhard had more experience when it came to giantslaying than nearly any other, and Firkon deferred to the man’s greater wisdom. The Selcenians who had made it to the walls had all either surrendered or fled back down, leaving Firkon and his men free to watch as the giantesses descended upon the Selcenian army. Firkon couldn’t help but feel smug as the first giantess, the brown-haired fiend he’d been hunting for so long, dove upon the thronging Selcenian army. Her massive hands moved with terrifying precision, snapping up soldier after terrified soldier. Firkon knew what came next before she even finished grabbing up the fleeing Selcenians, but gritted his teeth in ruefully restrained anger as the giantess raise her captive-filled hand to her face, opened her mouth, and let the soldiers drop onto her waiting tongue one by one, pulling them down between those slightly chapped pale lips. Firkon’s anger didn’t come from the giantess’ devouring of the Selcenians, an almost karmic punishment in his eyes, it did evoke memories of when he watched innocents fall into the exact same helpless plight. It was all too familiar of a scene.

Gulp.
Gulp.
Gulp.

The giantess’ hand, holding at least six squirming, crying men and women in it only moments ago, was now empty. The Selcenians had started dispersing more effectively, and the giantess realized this well. Unpleasant memories stirred in Firkon’s mind as the giantess popped open that same wooden crate he has spent agonizing days in, a mere toy box in her hands but a forlorn jail to any other. Her movements delicate and precise no longer, the giantess swept her arm across the ground in front of her, sweeping up at least a dozen stragglers into her box. Volkhard spat upon the ground and stalked off towards the other end of the wall.

“I can’t watch this.” he said as he paced away, “If she assaults the walls, I’ll be back in an instant, but I don’t think she’s got any reason to. The fools out there are far easier pickings.”

Firkon didn’t respond. He had nothing to say. The second giantess, darker-haired and paler than the first, had descended upon the fleeing Selcenians at this point and was wreaking deadly havoc on what remained of their ranks. Unlike the first giantess, she seemed utterly indifferent to sating her carnal hunger, and was instead crushing the soldiers under hand and foot. Firkon cringed as her palm dropped down onto a comely Selcenian woman, a levied phalangite judging by her lack of armor, crushing the poor woman flat into the dusty ground with a quick crunch. When the giantess lifted her palm, Firkon was sickened at the sight of mangled viscera and blood-soaked grit as all that remained of the unfortunate woman. A quick death, certainly, but a horribly gruesome one nonetheless.

“Sir!” Laeron cried to Firkon, sprinting down the wall, “the leftmost ballista operator has a shot on either one of the giants! Which do we fire at?”

Firkon muttered a curse under his breath. Did Volkhard too abandon the chivalric ideals of brotherhood against the giants in favor of seeing his human foes perish, or did he simply believe that attacking now truly wasn’t the best course of action? Whatever the case, Firkon wasn’t about to relent on his pact with Volkhard just yet. Perhaps he had a good reason for all of this.

“Tell them to hold their fire.” Firkon said, hesitating over every syllable.

Laeron froze, stunned by Firkon’s reply.

“S-sir?! You mean-” he began.

“I mean what I said, damnit!” Firkon barked, “Tell them to hold their fire!”

“Aye, sir!” Laeron exclaimed, sprinting back off to the ballista to deliver Firkon’s message.

After delivering Firkon’s commands, Laeron sauntered back over to the wall to witness the chaos. It was a terrible slaughter, terrifying and merciless, but something just couldn’t let him look away. He watched intently as the giantess he had tracked for days on end now laid waste to the Selcenians in a tragically one-sided bloodbath. No longer did the giantess kill to sate her hunger, but now instead simply killed for what Laeron assumed to be the sake of killing. Her expression was a closed-lipped smile, not a particularly cruel one, but the smile of a child playing marbles with their friends, almost innocent in its unperturbedness. A giggle escaped her ever so slightly bloodied lips as she crushed a fleeing man with her forearm, sending bits of him flying. Laeron was sickened, but at the same time, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her. Her utter disregard for the lives of those under her was captivating. Laeron’s eyes widened as he felt something in his pants stiffen. He was disgusted with himself almost as much as he was aroused at the sight of the giantess crushing a terrified soldier under her knee as she shifted her titanic weight, unaware of his presence until he was a red stain on her skin. 

Laeron, after glancing around to make sure nobody was watching him, settled down into a squat to watch the bloody show unfold. The other giantess, brunette-haired, paler, and smaller chested, simply didn’t capture his attention in the same way as the first. Her kills were methodical, uninspired, and bland, but the amber-haired one… though she was scarred aplenty, she nonetheless had the physique of a goddess, and cruelty to match. Almost always on all fours, she cornered her victims, lowering her face so that her toothy grin encompassed all that they saw, savoring their fear and pointless supplication. Only after they had begged and cried and ran did she begin to kill them off, tearing away limbs and crushing bones to draw every last scream out of each victim.

A trio of soldiers managed to muster up enough courage to charge the giantess with their pikes, perhaps in an act of martyrdom to buy their comrades time. The first two managed to stab the giantess in the back of her left thigh, drawing trickles of blood and causing her to yelp, but the third was knocked aside by her arm as she turned herself around. The soldiers had barely any time to react as the grumpy-faced giantess slammed a tight fist down on the frontmost soldier, splattering his comrade with his pulverized viscera. The second soldier staggered backwards in terror and fell to her back, and Laeron felt a pang of pity for her as she curled up in a ball, trembling and sobbing, as the giantess raised her bloodstained fist again. The giantess, seeing the pathetic state of her cornered prey, seemed to waver for a moment. Her arm lingered motionless in the air, bloody fist uncurling into an open hand. Her expression softened for a moment, and she seemed almost as if she felt sorry for the quivering soldier at her mercy. Laeron winced as the moment passed, and the giantess slammed her into the dust with her open palm, crushing her into yet another of the dozens of bloody stains dotting the area.

Given this display of unrelenting cruelty, Laeron was surprised as yet another group of soldiers, this one five strong, laid their weapons down and kneeled in an unmistakable sign of surrender. It wasn’t long until the giantess noticed them and made her way over to them, a devious smile snaking across her face. The surrendering soldiers all gazed at the ground, not daring to make even the slightest of movements. The giantess, extending both her hands, nudged one of them onto her palm, a short boy with a lanky physique and an ill-fitting helmet. The boy gasped and lost his composure as the giantess seized his leg out from under him, dangling him upside down in front of those who had surrendered with him. The boy’s expression stiffened as the giantess snapped his leg with a limp-wristed shake before transferring her grip on him to the other leg. The giantess then repeated the process on his other leg, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his skull and his chest to heave heavily and erratically. Only now having determined that their choice was extremely faulty, three of the four others made a mad dash away from the giantess. The fourth, a middle-aged man with a scruffy brown beard and a muscular physique, remained kneeling and motionless.

The giantess dropped the broken-legged boy to the ground as the three others bolted, catching up with them in a single bound. Another bound sent the giantess dropping down directly on top of them. Their horrified screams were cut short with a sickening squelch as the giantess landed, smushing one under her bust and the other two under her belly. After checking the bloodstains she left behind to make sure she got all three of them, the giantess returned to the last soldier, still kneeling in complete stillness and silence. Laeron was fascinated as she gently picked scooped him up in her open hand, examined him, and returned him to the ground unharmed before moving on to another target.

Laeron had little time to think about why she spared the man before the giantess found yet another fleeing victim. He watched with excitement as she picked up a young woman by the arm, pinching it between her forefinger and thumb with a surprisingly delicate gentleness, considering how fiercely the woman was struggling. The giantess said something in her language before applying more pressure to her grip.

“No! Kill me! Just kill me! Just fucking kill me, you whore!” the captive woman screamed as her arm was gripped ever tighter. Laeron heard the crack of bone from the wall as the giantess continued increasing the pressure. He saw the white of bone pierce the woman’s skin, followed shortly by the red of blood. Finally, with a wink of all expressions, the giantess tightened her grip until her fingers turned white, pulverizing the stunned woman’s arm. The woman slipped into unconsciousness, and the giantess simply tossed her aside like a broken toy. By now, the last of the Selcenians had fled, and the battlefield was a mess of blood and bodies.

With a sigh, the giantess turned her attention from the siege camp to the town. Laeron felt his heart quiver as the giantess approached the wall, which stood at her chin level. She could probably vault it with ease if she was so inclined… but that wasn’t what was causing Laeron such anxiety. With every step that took her closer, Laeron realized that she was going to wind up right in front of him. His legs froze, unwilling to move, even as those in his relative vicinity scattered for shelter.

And then she was upon him.

Laeron choked up as the giantess rested her chin on the wall no more than three paces in front of him. Her eyes were the size of shields, and both of them were focused on him. Laeron fell to his knees, terrified, excited, and awestruck at once. He had never before seen a giant, and he imagined that even among those who had, few had the opportunity to stare one in the face, especially one this beautiful. Laeron had heard that these creatures were ogres in both intellect and visage, but clearly what he had heard was a lie. He fell to his knees as the giantess opened her mouth and spoke.

“I am Teagan. Teagan save you.” she said, her smile broadening.

Laeron’s conscience was no longer troubled, no longer uncertain. There was no doubt about the matter: he was entirely enamored with the giantess. He could do nothing but hope that his face was too small for her to see that he was stupidly grinning, eyes half-lidded in recollection of her murderous acts. It was only after she waved a goodbye to the town and set off past it that he started thinking about exactly how troubled he was with his newly discovered fixation. Before he searched for Firkon, Laeron wondered exactly how many people the giantess, Teagan, had fit in that wooden box of hers. It had to be in the dozens at least… he shuddered as he wondered what it would be like to be devoured alive. Even after his revelation, he still dreaded the idea of being a victim himself.

Volkhard, meanwhile, was still standing next to a stunned and visibly agitated Firkon.

“Now can you explain to me why we held our fire?” Firkon growled, not even looking Volkhard in the eye. 

“I don’t think it would have worked, Legatus. When I fought her, I could do little more than watch helplessly as my envenomed bolts were held back by some phantom force, halting them in the air before her. If she had managed to deflect the ballista bolt in the same fashion, we would be facing both her and her companion. If that isn’t enough, I’m already exhausted from my previous fight with her, and I’m sure your men aren’t exactly eager to fight her after witnessing what happened to the Selcenians. In fact, after all that… Firkon, to be blunt, you tread on thin ice. Even the most loyal of soldiers will only go so far, and you are pushing that limit to the extreme. The men just witnessed the giantess scatter a vast army and kill dozens with terrifying ease. They also witnessed you pass up what some may see as an opportunity to attack now and end this journey. They’re far from home, weary of marching, and have now delved into yet a second conflict, this time with the one power outside of the Old Lands that rivals the might of Orestion. You don’t seem to realize exactly how bad of a situation you’re in right now, Firkon, and while I respect your motivation and am almost awed by your determination, stubborn and singleminded pursuit of your goal will only get you so far before you must widen your gaze. Your men need more than a leader, Firkon. They need a commander, a commander of respect and wisdom alike. Inspire them, reward them, and do whatever it takes to hold them together until we get an opportunity to strike at our target alone.”

As much as Firkon was frustrated with Volkhard at the moment, he knew that the man was at least partially right. His men were bound to be tired and homesick at this point, not having expected to embark on a full campaign. Discontent could quickly turn to mutiny if he didn’t manage the situation with care.

“Very well, Volkhard… I’ll see what I can do, and so should you. Consult the deaf witch, see what she knows about dealing with the arcane. I’ll talk with Laeron and the Q’thumani scouts and figure out how exactly we’re to catch up with the giantess.”

“I’m going to tend to the wounded, Firkon. I’m not leaving them out there to suffer and slowly die just because they’re Selcenian. Talk to the witch yourself.” Volkhard spat, clearly perturbed.

Firkon barely managed to keep his composure, but he could feel his doubts over Volkhard growing. The man wasn’t a fool, but Firkon found some of his recent choices questionable.

“I’ll figure you out, Volkhard… I’ll figure you out.” he spitefully said to himself, heading down the wall to talk with the witch.

~

That night, Laeron was left with a litany of questions swarming his mind. His father told him that the giants were ugly brutes, but clearly this wasn’t the case: Teagan was comely as they came, with no noticeable differences in her physiology save her size. Firkon told him that the giants were unintelligent brutes, but between the giantess wearing clothing and a backpack, performing communicative hand and facial gestures, and of course speaking in the common tongue, Laeron was fully convinced that this was untrue.

What bothered him the most, however, was her nigh unimpeded slaughter of the Selcenian army. While it was true that the army was small, ill-equipped and unprepared, there was no denying that they left barely a scratch on the giantess while sustaining horrid losses. He was left wondering how exactly the First Emperor managed to seize these lands from the giants. He knew that humans had a vast numerical advantage, but even so, he couldn’t imagine how an army numbering even in the millions would manage to defeat a small but coordinated group of giants. He was determined to find answers.

With a deep breath, Laeron rapped twice on the door before calling out, “Hello? It’s Laeron, the tracker. May I come in? I have a few questions about the giants, ones that I figure you might know the answers to.”
A few seconds passed before the door swung open. Only when he was face to face with him did Laeron realize exactly how tall Volkhard was. Laeron, while by no means tall himself, only came up to the man’s chest. Laeron found himself feeling a bit awkward as he craned his neck up to look Volkhard in the eye.

“What a pleasant surprise! I’d love to answer your questions to the best of my ability, Laeron… you may find that I know more than you’d think. Come on in, I’ll fetch you a drink and we can get started.”