Nagash was happy to see the two weird little humans were sleeping elsewhere. It was only Dari and her in the hut now. She had hurt Dari, but only just enough to make her less of a threat. That was good too. The little girl was starring outside into the dark night as if she expected to see something there. She was restless, Nagash could tell, always massaging her neck.

She tossed the carcass of the roasted sheep aside after sucking the last meat from it's bones. The fire was almost burned down to timbers. It was sleeping time. She pushed Dari over and grabbed her by the leg, dragging her while she crawled onto her furs where she slept. The frail tiny human winced with pain. That was alright.

She reclined and pushed Dari's mouth to her nether lips beneath the loin cloth. There was a little struggling at first but Nagash only pushed harder. Soon enough the stupid little thing understood. When she was done, she just locked her legs together, crushing the human in between for a pleasurable while before letting her crawl away.

She dreamt of the attack again. The bear, the magic, the terror. This time though, instead of a large rock there were a million pebbles, beating at her face like tiny hands. And they were tiny hands indeed. Dari's.

“Nagash wake up! Something's happening!” The tiny presumptuous human was restless.

She shook off the terror of the dream. Nothing like a little play time to forget it. This time, she'd sit Dari's face, she decided. The little girl would hurt badly, and maybe even get injured but that's what she was going to get for waking her. Dari should be lucky not to get killed. Nagash's mother had often killed the slaves who woke her unbidden.

“Nagash, no!” Dari whispered frantically.

Nagash was already on top of her. It would be fun to crush her like that. Nothing ever felt so sweet like a frail, tiny, human girl when it broke.

“Nagash! There's a torch...climbing up...the thing!”

Her wet lips smothered the tiny mouth. It was perfect. Her futile attempts at speech were sending jolts of pleasure up Nagash's spine. She allowed some more weight. Dari's tiny arms had been beating against her butt cheeks but got pinned to the ground now. Her breathing got heavier.

She'd kill Dari if she kept this up, but she did for a little while longer. She felt the urge, she wanted to kill her. Nothing would get her over the edge more. At last she rose, picked Dari up and pushed her head inside herself. The tiny human fit in almost to her knees. She crushed the tiny feet together in her grasp and rammed Dari in and out, again and again, while she moaned.

Her peak almost did for the tiny girl. She could tell. Dari came out coughing and wheezing, her arms clutched to her chest protectively. Nagash regarded her. Nothing would make it more perfect than stepping on her now, except for some more begging perhaps. The girl had slipped into unconsciousness.

Her hair was drenched in Nagash's juices, hideous. It was adorable. Nagash shoved her away with her foot and went back to sleep. There was a strange glow outside. Was it already dawn? She yawned. It would be best to get some more sleep, she was still so tired. She'd kill anyone trying to wake her up, she decided. Then she heard the screaming.

-

Dari awoke in broad daylight after someone had upended a pale of water onto her head. It had not been the first, she knew immediately from her drenched clothing.

“Ah, there she is!” A man said.

She looked up. He was grinning a tooth-gapped smile from beneath an iron half-helm. His coat of arms was dirty white with a sigil on his chest, an oak branch with two leaves and an acorn, all deep green. Andergastian soldiers, she thought. It didn't make any sense.

Her head was spinning when she got upright. It was day, long past morning if she was any judge.

“Come, on your feet.” The soldier said.

Dari screamed in pain when she was yanked up by the arm. Her ribs were giving her bloody agony and her feet were hurting too. Nagash had crushed them in her grasp carelessly. They were swollen but she could stand at least. The night before came back to her inner eye.

Nagash! She looked around. Soldiers with the same colours were all about. They had spears, bows, swords, shields and ring mail. Past their busy bodies Dari could only see so much but she saw that the village had been overrun.

She looked to the huge metal mountain where Janna and Laura used to dwell, the place where she had seen the climbers the night before. It was for them that Dari had woken Nagash. She had been uncertain what to do when she discovered that one of them was a giant. The tingling in her neck had not let her sleep. She had thought the climbers to be the danger. Now she wasn't so sure any more.

She was pushed, shoved onwards by rough, strong hands. Villagers were being herded together. Questions were being asked, people were hit with fists and butts of spears, severed heads impaled on spikes. The smell of smoke and roasting meat was in the air. Livestock was being butchered and wine and ale poured down thirsty throats. Pack mules and horses with provisions were there. Bodies were being piled up and buried too, some familiarly smashed. It was all over, she realized. She had awoken to the aftermath of a battle.

Just as they had gotten the place to run smoothly again, this happened. That wasn't the worst though. Dari's entire mission, the very reason she had come to Lauraville was at stake. She didn't know if the man and the giant had taken him from up there. She didn't even know if it was Vengyr they had been after in the first place.

“Milord?” The soldier asked when a handsome, tall knight in his thirties came into view.

He had a black, well-trimmed beard squishing out of his coif and wore a long surcoat over layers of ring mail with patches of boiled leather at the fringes. Embroidered on his chest was a not dissimilar sigil, only his was a crude tree, green, with leaves large enough to identify it as an oak. Andergastian heraldic was all dull this way. Other knights standing by him had other sigils, almost all variations of similar nature.

“What is it?” The knight replied crisply.

“This is the one the villagers said was their leader, Milord, under them monsters.” The soldiers grip was tight around Dari's arm.

The knight gave her an unconcerned look: “I'd see her head on a spike then.”

He turned to the other knights and carried on speaking: “Assemble men with hooks, ropes and climbing spikes. We're not leaving before the other giant isn't dead as well.”

Dari didn't understand a thing, least of all why the soldier holding her wasn't moving.

“Err, milord?” He asked again.

“Why are you still standing there?” The knight was displeased. “Cut her head off and put it on a spike. Next to the giantess', if you please, makes no matter.”

“Yes, uh, milord.” The soldier stammered. “Only, err, she's pretty.”

Dari sure as sunrise wasn't making for a pretty sight. Nagash's secretions had crusted upon her clothes, her skin and in her hair and the water had turned it all slimy again. She was smelling rank too, but she supposed she'd be the best thing the tooth-gapped soldier could hope to rape in a while. Whilst her own immediate future shuddered her, she wondered what Birsel's face had looked like when they had smashed down her doors and came for her and her whores. All that training for naught.

“I suppose, if she weren't so filthy.” The knight sighed after giving Dari's face a closer inspection. “Fine. Have her, then give her to the men. They have earned some pleasure after last night's march and there's not enough pretty ones to go around. Make sure you cut off her head later.”

“She's really pretty.” Another knight, late in his twenties, noted to the soldier. “Have her washed and bring her to my tent. I'd have her first, with lord Zornbold's permission.”

“Poor thing is going to spend the rest of her short life on spikes.” A third knight japed, grinning.

Dari was too bruised and broken to do anything and there were too many of them by half. The knight claiming rights to her was younger than most of the others and not hard to look upon at all. If he was going to have Dari alone and in his tent the only question was whether she'd be able to kill him before or after. And then she would need to escape somehow.

Lord Zornbold seemed annoyed: “You should save your seed for your lady wife, Egon.” He remarked thinly. “If you are in need of something to get your blood up, perhaps I should send you lead the men to climb up that cursed mountain of metal and kill the giant.”

Dari's ear pricked up every now and then, trying to deduce the situation. The climbers were still up there it seemed. That was good, as far as she could say. It was better than them having fled anyhow. The fact that there was no twelve metre tall giantess causing mayhem and killing people along with the mentioning of a giant severed head could only mean that Nagash was dead.

The young knight's eyes impaled hers, full of longing. He was her best hope now and not by a long shot. She knew what men looked like when they were in love. They were thinking with their cocks and their cocks always fell in love with Dari.

“I know your bride to be is a sour old thing, my lord.” Egon said. “That doesn't mean the rest of us have to suffer it?”

'What a fool.'

“Guard your tongue!” Zornbold raised a ring-mailed fist. “It is our beloved queen Effine of Andergast you are talking about! I am to be your king! Out of my sight, now!”

“Milady?” The young fool offered Dari a hand as he went. She took it gratefully, leaving a particularly disappointed man at arms behind.

“Speaking of that old hag always makes his blood boil.” He chuckled into Dari's ear while leading her off. “Between the legs, the queen smells as bad as your hair, I'd wager.”

He took her for some stable wench, she realized. He led her through and out of the village and she could see that some houses had been burned. She saw Nagash as well, feathered by a thousand arrows, broken spears, lances and swords stuck in her skin and her head cut off, impaled on no less than a dozen thick wooden spikes to hold the weight. Her eyes were full of hate, her mouth twisted.

Dari's feelings were mixed. Nagash had abused her where she could and yesterday had been nothing short of rape. Still, she wished the fearsome giantess was alive now to crush some Andergastians.

“We'll have it laced with tar and present it in Andergast.” He mentioned in the by and by. “It will be proof of our great victory here. It is hard to believe that two giants caused all that destruction. She is big, yes, but the male up the iron mountain looks rather unimpressive.”

'If the giantesses who caused that destruction were here you'd be as flat as a sheet of parchment.' Dari thought.

Janna would most likely just crush people into oblivion while Laura would insist they repair the damage they had done before making Lauraville their new involuntary home. Then maybe they'd fuck and crush some people in between their cunts.

No, they wouldn't, she realized a moment later, thinking of Christina and Steve. She wondered where they were.

Egon touched her cheek with a gentle finger: “Don't look so distraught my dear. Zornbold will have forgotten about you by now already. No one will touch you, I will see to that.”

'No one but you.' Dari thought hollowly.

He proved the truth of that a moment later when his tongue was in her mouth. His hand caressed the small of her back gently before giving her buttocks a squeeze. It came so suddenly that she didn't react at all.

“I...” He stammered after he withdrew. “My apologies, I am so sorry.”

He was a good boy and gentle after all. A fool. Dari forced a smile and pressed her lips to his, giving the tightening package under his mail britches a squeeze with her hand. He was taller than her by a head but would be exceptionally easy to kill. He was overwhelmed already, smiling like a dullard with all his blood anywhere but his head.

She rolled her eyes shyly after leaning out of the kiss. He did the same, laughed awkwardly, cleared his throat and led her on more quickly. They arrived at a bundle of folded white canvas and a neat stack of sticks and beams. The donkey they had been laden off of was standing besides, hee-hawing at them with a mouth full of hay.

“Apologies, my tent, it seems, has yet to be, uh...” He cleared his throat awkwardly again. “...erected.”

Dari chuckled and held a hand in front of her mouth. It was what a lucky peasant girl would do, though she could not deny that Egon's foolish charms weren't entirely lost on her. He was cute the same way a puppy-dog was.

His idle squire was a lad of thirteen or so and almost fell over apologising to him. He vowed to have the tent standing within the hour and a bath served up as well. Meanwhile, Egon thought it best to take Dari for a walk. Another man may have taken her into a locals' home and have her in someone else's bed. Not so Egon. He was too good or too unimaginative to do so.

The villagers had been put in hastily erected stockades, she saw. She didn't see Birsel or any of her girls. They were probably still busy getting raped in any of the houses. Before each stockade was a chair where the men and women were led one by one, beaten and questioned.

“Do you believe in the Twelve?” A man at arms asked an old woman in the nearest. “Do you hold the true gods?”

“There is only one goddess and her name is Laura!” The old woman spat. She was one of the fundamentalists.

The man at arms shrugged to his comrades, transferred the woman to a red, sticky chopping block and hacked her head off with two swings of his axe. Her body went onto one of the piles where other men loaded the bodies onto carts to be transferred to a more distant place where mass graves were being dug. Two Boron priests were already performing the rites over the first one they had filled. The woman's head was beaten onto a stick with a hammer and put on display outside the stockades.

A priest of Praios in stained white linen robes was overlooking the questioning and came over when he saw Egon.

“There are many heretics here, Sir.” He proclaimed with a swollen chest. “There always are, this far away from civilization but these ones seem exceptionally stubborn.”

“I apologise, my lady.” Egon turned to Dari. “I am sure this is the last thing you would wish to see.”

He took her in his arm and shielded her against the view, leading her away quickly. She didn't really care either way. Being called 'my lady' was promising though. He might have said 'girl' or something like that, or omitted titles all the same. It showed he valued her.

“What about her?” She could hear the priest say. “Has she been questioned yet?”

Egon ignored him and went a tad faster.

“Do you hold the Twelve, boy?” The man at arms asked with a sore voice.

“Please!”

Dari froze and tried to bring Egon to a stop.

“No, no, don't look.” He said soothingly, trying to get her away from there.

She heard a punch and a scream.

“Do you hold the Twelve, boy?!” The man at arms said again.

“Please!”

Steve was crying. 'Please' was probably the only word he could think of right now, not understanding any of this. She fought Egon to go back. The boy was bleeding from his mouth where the man at arms had hit him and now he did it again.

“Are you deaf, boy?! Do you hold the Twelve?!”

'Just say yes!' Dari prayed in her mind.

She didn't know why. She never particularly liked Steve and his demeanour but she had gotten so used to look out for him and Christina that she felt a certain sense of duty about their well-being now that she saw him. Her mind filled with thoughts of the unspeakable things Janna and Laura would do whence they heard of this too.

“Save him!” She breathed urgently into Egon's ear.

He returned her look worried and uncertain.

“Please!”

“Is this so difficult?! For the last time, do you hold the twelve!”

“No!”

Steve had finally remembered another word and doomed himself with it.

“Alright lads.” The man at arms shrugged. “There's the answer. Off with his head.”

“So, you do speak.” Egon remarked stupidly.

“Please!” Dari urged.

Steve's head was on the block already. He was crying and babbling something incomprehensive. Other men had to hold him down.

“Hey, that's a nice garment he has there. Let's get it off him before you do it.”

Egon's eyes narrowed with suspicion: “Is he your lover?”

Dari bit her tongue in frustration.

“No he is not!” She whispered determinedly. Another strategy was needed for this. “Stop them, I'll explain, I swear it! Do it for me!”

She gave him another squeeze through his britches but his manhood had shrunk back to it's regular size which wasn't by any measure spectacular.

“I'll do anything you want!”

Egon looked at her, still suspiciously.

“Ha, that's a fine cock. Here you go lad, let's get your head off.”

“Halt!” Egon called over his shoulder in the last instant.

The man at arms looked up, axe already in the air. Egon turned and strove towards him, Dari right behind.

“Sir Egon, this is a matter of the holy church of Praios!” The priest came protesting.

“Get him off the block, let him dress himself!” Egon commanded without care.

Bubbles of terrified spittle were forming around Steve's mouth.

“Clothes!” Dari hissed at him and rushed past to the stockade.

While she hadn't really liked Steve, Christina she had actually been friendly with. She only hoped that it wasn't too late. She should have thought sooner of it, she reflected.

“Dari!”

Christina stuck her black hand through the wood. The girl was a mess. Behind her she saw the Thorwalsh and the Horasian. Thorgun was sitting feverishly, barely awake. Léon was on the ground, eyes closed, unmoving.

“The dark girl and those two as well!” Dari called to Egon.

“What is the meaning of this?” The priest demanded. “Sir Egon, these prisoners are still to be questioned! I shall inquire with Lord Zornbold as to the purpose of this!”

Egon gave Dari a helpless look.

“That there is Thorgun Hafthor Olafson, son to the hetman of hetmen of Thorwal!” She pointed. “The other is Léon Logue, a Horasian nobleman!”

She swelled her chest and sounded as aristocratic and intimidating as she could: “You had no business taking them prisoner! You will let them go this instant and pray that their families will forgive you for this, or else you are looking at two political catastrophes at once!”

If truth be told, it probably wouldn't have been all that grave. Those things happened, especially given the circumstances but the moment had really carried her. The blood had vanished from all of their faces, Egon's most of all. Dari's cover was blown. She would have some serious explaining to do when this was over.

“And what of the boy and the shit skin?” The priest demanded stubbornly.

Egon caught himself in time: “Can't you see what clothes they're wearing?!” He fumed believably enough. “I will have them out of there now, or it will be your head on the block next!”

The men at arms shook off the shock and rushed to obey.

“Have them brought into one of the houses, guard them and see to their wounds!” Egon commanded further. “Any harm comes to them, I'll have you drawn and quartered myself!”

That really hit home with the men, Dari could see, and it was no wonder. He hadn't even mentioned hanging. Usually, a person condemned to this kind of punishment was hanged almost to death, then castrated and disembowelled which usually killed them. Afterwards they were beheaded and their body chopped into four pieces before being put on display.

“Thank you!” Christina cried to Dari when she was let out of the cage.

Her clothes were in order which was like to mean that no man had touched her. Dari had expected as much. Soldiers weren't picky when it came to raping women and sometimes even boys but Andergstians had many superstitious reservations about people of dark skin. There was no time to talk to her however. Maybe later there would be, but for that, Dari would have to stay.

Reluctantly, she let her valiant knight lead her away from the scene.

“What was that all about?” He inquired earnestly when they were safely out of earshot. “I'm beginning to think I should have let the men have their way with you and cut your head off. Do you know what trouble I could get into? How am I going to explain any of this to King Edorian Zornbold?!”

Dari knew she did not only owe him some explanation at all, not even a good one, but the truth for once. They were standing right next to an unattended heap of headless corpses too, giving the whole cutting-off-heads thing a whole lot more gravitas.

“Look.” She swallowed. “You are wrong about the giantesses.”

“What?” He looked at her as clueless as the ravens on the bodies. There was an unnatural amount of ravens about anyway, flapping, cawing and picking at pale corpse flesh with their shiny, black beaks.

“Did you come by Ludwig's keep on your way here?” She asked.

“No.” He replied. “But we heard of the battle. It was where late King Aele died.”

“Do you think two giants of this size could have beaten Aele's army?” She motioned to the ruined body of Nagash in the distance and then up to the giant metal thing, looming over them.

The giant thief was up there, she could see, next to the man, looking down at the small army barring their escape. Compared to Nagash he looked really tiny, or else the man next to him was as tall as a bear. Dari saw men trying to climb their way up there too. They would face a messy arrival, but that point in time was still at least a day away judging by the progress they were making.

Dawning was written all over Egon's face. His eyes widened as if frozen in time and Dari could almost see his breath frosting with fear.

“They spoke of one hundred metre tall beasts.” He swallowed hard. “The peasants, the deserters, even Queen Effine started to believe it.”

“Yes, and the two you saved are dear to them. Very dear.” Dari told him. “They wouldn't even let them witness any violence while they were here.”

“Here.” Egon's face was as pale as the corpses nearby. Suddenly he looked around in terror as if expecting to see them anywhere.

“They went away a while ago.” She went on. “We haven't seen or heard from them since.”

And that was all the truth he would hear for now, she decided. He didn't look as though he could stomach anything more. She looked up at the giant again. She could see him hold the familiar bundle. Of course it was Vengyr they had been after. There was nothing else up there, as far as she remembered at least. Perhaps he was Xardas' creature too. But if not...

If not, then this was the place to be. Perhaps the Andergastians would kill the giant and the other. Perhaps Vengyr would just come fluttering down. At any rate, it wouldn't do to flee and lose track of the druid, now that it was clear that she wasn't the only one chasing him. She'd stay, even if it meant fucking Egon. Cute or not, she didn't want to have his babies, but at least he wouldn't hurt her for once.

“My home, it pales. The world is near. In many colours, bright and clear. I am marching, through the mud and dust. If I must...If I must.”

“You have a beautiful voice.” Dari said softly when Egon put his lute away. He still looked as though he had seen a ghost. Dari had seen and suffered so much by Janna and Laura's hands that she had grown dull to the terror of the experience, she reflected. And Egon hadn't even seen them yet, only heard of them and perhaps seen the result of their actions.

The tent was roomy enough for two by far. There were chests of Egon's things, sleeping furs and a tub full of steaming water. He was the son of some lord in south-east Andergast at the border to the Garethian Margraviate of Griffinsford, rich by trade of stoneoak wood. She couldn't help but feel for him as he sat on his tiny stool, staring into oblivion.

He didn't even look up when she slipped out of her clothes. She took pity on him. Who knew, perhaps he'd turn out to be a useful ally. He had already, if truth be told. It was time to suck some cum out and blow some courage back into the man.

“Gods, you're beautiful.” He stammered when she arrived before him.

Her fingers unlaced his chain mail britches easily. There was an abundance of things to kill him with, his dagger, his sword, his shield, a knife and fork on the table where some fresh piece of roast mutton waited or even the flagon of wine next to it that Dari could have used to bash his skull in. But she didn't. Instead she took his cock into her mouth.

'You're a lousy assassin.' Her pride belittled her. She didn't care.

Egon's wife had clearly never done this for him. It wasn't uncommon for high born ladies and an easy way to get their husbands into a vulnerable position. His seed filled her mouth before she had even really begun, but it was sweet, not the cum, but the gesture. She swallowed it and wiped her chin while he fell backwards off his stool.

Dari was hungrier than she had realized but she hoped she wouldn't get pregnant. There was always that fear when dealing with this end of a man. She had carried out a baby once. She didn't think about it most of the time, having brushed it from her memory like chalk off a stone. She had left it in the sewers to die, just as her own mother had done for Dari, or so she had been told.

The mutton roast was bloody inside but she ate it anyway, wolfing it down like some hungry animal.

“What are we going to do?” Asked a disarmed Sir Egon on the floor.

“Keep the prisoners close and alive.” Dari replied, chewing.

They were their safest bet by far, if Janna and Laura returned.

“Janna and Laura.” He told the roof of the tent. “Some villagers said those names over and over again. Are they really so huge?”

“Yes.” Dari swallowed. “And yes.”

Egon got up and re-laced his britches. Her mouth-play had worked on him it seemed.

“I still have to tell Zornbold, somehow.”

“Who is that king-to-be of yours?” Dari turned towards him.

“He is...a lord.” Egon shrugged, putting the stool back in place. “He passes for a leader well enough. Holds no grudges long. He's prude though.”

Dari returned his cocky grin. There was a rustle at the tent flap and the squire came marching in with the fresh clothes Egon had bid him bring. He stared at naked Dari with a head as red as glowing coal.

“Fe...fe...fresh clothes, my lady.” He stammered, extending his arms.

“Thank you.” Dari smiled and took them. The lad marched out as stiff as a string puppet.

He looked a bit like a puppet too, with his pimply face and fiery red hair. Egon had hair that was dark brown in most places except for over his forehead where it was lightening and beginning to thin. His cheeks and neck were stubbly and in need of a shave but his moustache and chin beard were well maintained.

Dari put the clothes on the stool and slipped into the hot, awaiting water. It was wonderful. A raven flew over the white canvas of the tent, cawing. Nagash was dead, what she had left on Dari's skin dissolving. Egon handed Dari a piece of soap to get the last off of her body. She never wanted to feel helpless again. She was dependant on Egon and he could drop her and have her killed as he pleased, but still it was different.

“You look mangled, what happened to you?” There was shocked concern on his voice.

He was right, of course. Where her rips were broken was a deep, dark purple bruise and the rest of her body showed more such marks in places. She felt the pang of pain, but she had gotten used to it. When she was hurt on a job in her former life, she couldn't take the time off to let it heal. Life had to go on, as it did now.

“It will heal.” She said, dipping her hair into the water and rubbing the soap on it.

“That thing you did, with your mouth...” He began.

“I'm not a whore.” She cut him off with a laugh. “But I'll do it for you, as often as you want, so long as we are together.”

So long as he got his cock sucked, he'd never grow tired of her unless something more beautiful would offer herself to him, which was unlikely.

“Then you are going to kill me.” He smiled. “I will go find some more to eat.”

'Help yourself, so help you Phex.' Dari thought, reclining in the tub, thinking about the villagers in the stockades. They were helpless indeed, their life's end only a chopping block away. It would take a while to root out and behead all the religious ones. What was to happen to the others she had no idea, nor did she really care.

She allowed herself a cup of wine from the flagon on the table and then another. The conquest of the village wasn't all bad after all. In light of things, at the moment, it was actually quite good for her cause. The clothes the squire had brought turned out to be a simple dress, an apron and a white wool cap. It was more girly than Dari liked, but she agreed with herself that these would suit her better than leather pants and vest in this company. She'd look like a camp follower, though the dress was slightly too small and she could only lace the bodice so that it left a gap, exposing part of her naked back. It was also slightly too short, exposing her ankles.

Along with that would come unwanted advances, no doubt, but she was nothing if not quick to deal out slaps to defend herself. She was Egon's for now. He was her shield. He may have acted the big man about to take a woman as he pleased in front of the other knights but it had never been his intention to rape her. He didn't have to. She didn't know if he had ever taken any part in any ransacking before but average peasant girls would surely pick the bed of a knight over having twenty brutal men take turns on them any day, willingly.

Beneath his armour, Egon was as soft as a kitten. He may indeed turn out too soft in the end. He returned to the tent agitated while Dari was having her third cup of wine. It was no Horasian vintage by far but it didn't taste overly of sulphur either.

“There's no speaking to this man.” He sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Did he not understand?” Dari asked, sipping.

“Asked? I never even got to speak. He says we have to move the tents because he's worried the giant is going to rain things down on us.”

Dari poured him a cup of wine and handed it to him.

“Only there seems nothing to be thrown, up there.” Egon went on. “All that giant does is stand there and feed the ravens.”

Dari giggled dutifully before she froze. “I have seen the ravens fly!”, Gunther the guardsman had sworn in the dim light of that shady tavern in Andergast.

“Caw!” A raven screamed above he tent. The cup of wine fell from her hands, forgotten.