The siege had stalled for the past week. Prince Halstel's army had been making excellent progress at breaking down the city Fairel, the battle hungry troops pushing hard to crush the will of the defenders before the snows of winter made all progress impossible. The port had been completely cut off by the longboats of the Prince's army. An army parked outside the walls prevented any escape and relief was many weeks away for the city. Yet now, when their hour of victory was nigh, the prince found himself vexed as he stared at the wounded bring brought back from longboats returning from the blockade.

"It was Redaia, your grace."

As his advisor informed him of this, the blue eyes of the blonde prince noted a man being carted into the camp on a wagon, his legs below the knees gone.

"So I can see."
Redaia, it was a name that he had come to know as the main obstruction to their progress. Jarl  of the Golstarn Isles, awarded the title by Halstel's own grandfather no less. Redaia the Red. Called as such because when she ended her fights she was coated head to toe in red. Redaia the Giant. Called as such for she towered over men three times over. One of the greatest heroes of all of Dasland. Yet now she stood against him. To call it vexing was an understatement.

"The next wave I will be taking to the front of the blockade. I wish to see for myself what stands against our forces." Halstel declared.

The gasps of his advisors were audible as were the pleas that he reconsider. He could not. If he was to keep his place in the line of royal succession Halstel needed to finish this campaign. He needed this victory, otherwise his brothers would start to get a leg up on him. It was such that at noon of the same day he donned his spotless and untarnished armor, sliding his winged helm upon his handsome head. He boarded his royal longboat, the vessel manned by well armed and armored elites. Oars slammed into the waters as the boat headed out for the blockade and the next wave.

Fairel was a city known for its complex docks, used to make impressive vessels that could go long distances across the sea. Most of those vessels had been burned, but the docks were where the enemy made their stand. It was where Redaia had filled the harbor with countless numbers of Dasian men. The city was just within reach it seemed. If they could pierce the docks, the city would be wide open to be sacked. Yet sure enough, as the next wave of boats prepared to set out Halstel could only make out a single figure standing on the docks.

The old tales told of warrior women that would come down from the great halls in the sky, ones that were beautiful and terrible to behold and could slay an entire army singlehandedly. By all accounts Redaia was one such woman. A mature beauty that looked scarce at the start of middle aged. One with sculpted muscles and broad shoulders. She had a pair of axes set on either shoulder, her blonde hair flowing freely in the autumn winds. Though Halstel was not close enough to see it, he knew she was probably grinning. He most certainly could hear her bellowing.

"Hey! Today I'm feeling a little generous, manlets! I'm only gonna use one arm! See! One arm!" She held up one arm before a Fairel soldier, just barely the height of her knees got up on a step ladder behind her and started tying a rope to keep her arm tied to her belt.

Halstel's eye twitched at the clear mockery. He raised his voice, projected with years of experience and vocal training. "Redaia, Jarl of Golstarn! Your prince stands before you and demands to know why you stand with the weak kingdoms of the west!" He bellowed.

The blonde held her only good hand up and made a show of leaning forward, shielding her eyes. "Oh, greetings Prince Halstel! A bit taller than I remember you being as a boy but not by much! Did you come out this way to fight me as well? I thought you preferred silk and slave girls over blood and dirt!" She laughed a booming laugh that carried over the water. "If you are really curious though, why don't you come over here eh? Always did wonder if princes put up good fights."

Halstel's eye twitched again. "The full might of Dasland stands against you! Have you taken leave of your senses, woman!? Today I'll send in my personal guard, men who've fought in countless campaigns, raided dozens of towns like this! Surrender and bend your knee and I may consider pardoning you for this treason!"

Redaia rubbed at the side of her head, the statuesque woman letting out an exaggerated sigh. "See now that is a problem, little prince, see I'm not as young as I used to be so my knees get all creaky when I get down on them! So afraid I'll have to decline!"

The prince pursed his lips and looked at his commander, giving him a silent nod to confirm the attack to go ahead and begin. This was clearly not going to make any headway. Five boats broke off from the blockade and started headed toward the docks, some of his own elites mixed in with the regulars aboard. Daslanders were worth twice every weakling of the west. Just unfortunate that they weren't against the weaklings. Still, she only had one arm that she was using. Who couldn't beat a one armed woman?

The longboats surged forward, oars slamming into the waters of the harbor. There were still bodies floating in the harbor from the last attempt. There was a glint of light that caught the sun and Halstel's eyes slowly widened as the next moment one of masts was completely snapped in half from one of the boats. Then there was warmth that sprayed across the side of his chin. He lifted his fingers up. Blood. Looking to his right, his eyes absolutely bulged to see his commander without half of his head. Helmet, bone, flesh, half of it was just rolling on the deck of the boat.

The cause? The axe that was currently lodged deeply into the mast of his own boat. Redaia had thrown one of her axes, the weapon slicing through the mast of one ship and come close to decapitating Halstel himself. He understood what he was looking at, what had happened, but the shock was... taking a second to process even as his men shouted in alarm.

"Whoops! Was off by a bit there, gods above I must really getting old!" Came the laugh from the docks.

Arrows flew from the boats closest to the docks now. Redaia set her only free hand on her hip as the arrows flew toward her. Most either fell in the waters around her, or the surface of the docks. There were a few that were coming right toward her however. At the last second her arm moved in a flash and all three of the arrows that would have hit her were clutched in her fist. The movement defied the reflexes of normal humans. The strength was absurd to behold. It was now that the prince was beginning to see, really see, why they had been held back for a week.

"You can have these back!" She said cheerfully as she tossed the arrows right back at the boat that had launched them. The tips of the arrows skewered through a few oarsmen, going right through some and into the men behind them like their bodies were made of butter.

Finally one of the boats got close enough to the docks that warriors were vaulting over. They were running right for where Redaia was, probably planning on killing her under weight of numbers. Spears, swords and axes were held by the brave warriors as they charged toward this blonde giant of a woman. Her icy blue eyes fell upon them as they swarmed toward her, lifting up her remaining axe as a grin split her lips.

"Good, good lets see how elite you all are! Show me what the little prince considers warriors to be!" She bellowed as she swung her axe out.

It was just a single swing but it was a localized catastrophe. Anyone that was hit by the blade was just completely shorn in half or had limbs fly away. Weapons snapped and shattered against it. Bodies were flung by the sheer force of the strength behind her well muscled arm. Some of the planks form the docks were even broken from the impact. Shields, armor, all of it meant absolutely nothing to the sheer strength of the giant.

She hacked and slashed and chopped, true to her word she only used one hand but it almost didn't matter. Weight of bodies did nothing but give her more to step upon. More people to wipe out with one swing after another. Some who weren't injured just fell to pretend they were. One man who did that found Redaia's boot in his face. His scream was muffled as the weight of her step flattened his skull and left him but a twitching corpse under her step. She spied another ship with archers aiming for her and turned. Her axe flew from her fingers again and this time it split the ship completely in half down the middle from the impact. Splinters flew everywhere, shrapnel mincing anyone.

"Come on now, manlets, is this what passes for a warrior these days?" She sounded almost disappointed.

Terrified out of their wits, another ship landed and more troops moved, trying to surround the giant. She reached down and grabbed one man by the leg. He screamed as she started using him like a club. Bones shattered as she smashed into his comrades with a gleeful smile on her lips. Her armor was covered in blood, her face and hands warm with it as well. Arrows came for her and she held the man up to catch them with his body. With his use evidently done she tossed his body into the harbor.

Of course by this point, it was a retreat, people running back to their boats and other boats already trying to flee for shore. The giant of a woman frowned as she held one squirming man by the leg, watching the ships start to move away. "Hey, hey, hey! We aren't done here yet!" She shouted as she dropped the man at her feet. He tried to run... until her walking step crushed one of his legs. She didn't even deign to turn around to finish him off, continuing forward.

Her walk turned to a run as she neared the end of the docks and leapt up into the air. Her shadow passed over the water until she landed upon one of the retreating ships, her grin returning as she stood up to her full height and took one of the oars up. "You manlets need to at least fight until the very end. All this retreating nonsense, its getting really old. I even tied my hand to give you all a better chance." She sighed as she got to work, tossing the smaller men on the boat around like ragdolls.

The Prince watched it all. He watched this paragon of strength, this being with limitless strength and stamina as she jumped across the harbor to land upon one of his fleeing boats. She watched her towering form stomp into the ship, cracking the hull of the vessel in half. She leapt to the next boat as the men that survived floundered in the water. Halstel swallowed thickly as she picked a man up over her head and made to toss him by the arm, keeping her grip on it and instead sending the rest of his body flying from the limb. It tore off like it was nothing.

"My prince! We need to retreat! We need to fall back!"

The horrified prince was only vaguely aware of the captain of his longboat screaming at him to fall back. He was too transfixed by watching the giant smash her way through the forces at his disposal. This wasn't a human being. He was watching a manifestation of those old legends. Of great heroes larger than life. He just happened to be one of the mortals in one such legend like that.

There was a thunk behind him followed by dead silence. Halstel felt a chill course its way down his spine as he felt a looming shadow fall over him. He heard a sickening series of cracks and a number of people screaming in pain. As well as a great number of splashes. People in his peripheral jumped into the waters of the harbor. Then there was a chuckle behind him. It had been rather irksome and mocking when he had first heard it. Now, now Halstel felt it was the stuff of his worst nightmares.

He turned, slowly and had to look up. And up. And UP until he could see the sculpted, blood covered face of Redaia the Red. She was grinning down at him, blue eyes filled with an almost inhuman level of glee. Halstel felt his knees give out from under him and he fell over onto his backside, his helmet rolling away to reveal his youthful terrified face for the woman to look upon. His heart was pounding faster than he could ever recall, his blood filled with adrenaline.

Redaia rubbed at the side of her neck. "Gotta say, little prince. Quality of warriors has fallen since your grandfather's heyday. Got some real scars back then." She mused. "Anyway, you wanted to know why I'm doing this right?"

Halstel could barely remember his earlier curiosity over the matter, he just stared up at her, frightened like a rabbit.
She reached down and grabbed him by his face, her palm talking all of his face in her inescapable hold. He kicked and flailed and let out muffled pleas for mercy as she held him up painfully, grabbing at her arm and wrist as though to vainly try and pry it away from him. Of course it was a laughable thing against this woman.

"The kingdoms of the west have some real weaklings here, but that means a war with them... basically like me fighting an anthill. Where's the fun in that? Meanwhile, Dasland has warriors in it somewhere. So tell your father I'm going to keep carving a bloody path through the Dasian army. I'm going to crush and stomp all of you until there's a man that comes that can stop me." She said with a little chuckle.

Light flooded Halstel as he was released and fell in a heap on the ground, muttering nonsense and gibbering thanks for the mercy she was showing him. The woman meanwhile rolled her eyes at the absolutely pathetic display. "Don't worry, little prince. I only kill warriors. Who goes out of their way to stomp ants like you?" She said, a light bit of disdain in her icy blue eyes as she walked toward the prow of the ship before jumping in the water to start kicking her way back to the docks.

It was the very next day that the siege of Fairel was lifted. The reason being that the prince himself ordered it so. No man who had lived to see the carnage of that week questioned him or held his manhood into question. For what had stood against them was not mortal, but a monster.