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Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
This is a first draft of a story set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is based on a home campaign so some of the people, places and things
may be different. Any helpful comments or suggestions are very welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
"Aaarrraaahhh!" the giant screamed wordlessly. It clawed at its
face, scraping grimy nails down its cheeks leaving a bloody trail. It
grabbed Harald by the shoulders and lifted him from the ground. Hands with
the grip of a metal vice crushed in his mail, the steel links digging
through the thick cloth he wore beneath his armor.
Harald drove the point of his claymore Miming into the giant's
chest. The keen edge slid in between its ribs, not deep at first, but
as the monster lifted him he put his shoulder to the hilt and sunk
it in till it came out the giant's back.
A hand let go of one shoulder and grabbed Harald by the throat,
the palm was so big that it lapped over his jaw as well, saving him
from a choking hold. The pressure ground his teeth together with a grating
sound, massive thumb and fingers closed like pincers ready to crush the
rangers skull like an apple rotted on the vine and cast beneath a farmers
foot.
Two daggers stabbed at the giant's legs, the halfling and Little
Rat attacked. The thief knew where to cut but the young orc just hacked
away, he did little more than gash the giant's skin.
And then it fell. The pressure disappeared, the hands unclenched
and Harald dropped, pulling out his blade half way. Magic bolts from
Telenstil's hand struck it again, but only as an afterthought. It buckled
at its knees, the thief and orc jumped back. The giant knelt for a moment,
its arms straight at its side then tumbled backwards, legs bent double
underneath.
Harald lay atop the giant's chest. He would not release his sword,
but the huge torso pulled it away and dragged the ranger along as if he
weighed no more than a man of straw. He breathed hard, and closed his eyes
letting his head rest on the bleeding silent chest.
Ghibeline lead the four surviving orcs charging down the trail.
They heard the calls, the terrible scream, the elven warrior shouted
for them to follow him and to his and their surprise, they did. They
stared in quiet awe at the bloody scene. The ranger, hands still gripping
his murderous sword, the bodies of two giants deadly still, one a mass
of wounds, a vast rent torn down its side. All about them the smoking
bodies of the cattle, the smell of roasting flesh and burning leaves. Small
fires shrunk sending out plumes of smoke as the wet loam refused to catch
and spread the flames.
Telenstil watched silently, as did Ivo. The halfling stumbled back
away from the ranger and the bleeding corpse, his hand touched the other
giant's face, slid across its eye and felt the lid flutter and the
eyeball move.
"This one's alive!" he shouted in surprise.
"Look!" called out Ghibeline. "There's another!"
Standing off the trail near to the trees was the gangling giant
youth. It stared at the carnage with an open mouth then shut it with a
snap as the elf broke the silent moment that everyone had shared. The
youth did not hesitate, it turned and ran, long thin legs eating up the
distance between where it had stood and the north edge of the trail.
"After it!" yelled Ghibleine. He ran down the path, gracefully
weaving between the corpses of the cattle. The orcs followed him again
roaring out a battlecry they had not used in years.
* * *
(To Be Continued)