Edmar's Tumble

Edmar hit the ground with a sickening thud as the rain fell around him. The suddenness of the storm was alarming, even for a man like him who had been so often at sea. The clouds had moved more like a swarm than a weather pattern driven by wind. 

Jarnsaxa had gasped slightly at the sound of thunder, and then dropped the Commodore's son to the ground when a vicious gargoyle landed and sunk its teeth into the flesh of her hand. 

Though the giantess had been kneeling as she spoke with him, the fall was still a far one. The breath was knocked from him and he thought he must have a broken bone or two. At the very least, a sprain. 

At least a hundred gargoyles were now attacking Jarnsaxa, biting her viciously as she slapped them away. A few fell like large flies, leaving red, bleeding marks behind on her skin. 

Edmar now understood the scars she bore. They were not remnants of pimples or deformities of birth; they were hundreds of bite marks across her body. 

Her son and husband jumped to their feet, swatting around her in an attempt to drive off the cloud of nuisances plauging the air. They received scratches and screeches for their efforts. 

Edmar rolled to avoid a falling beast. It struck the ground mere inches from him, its heavy body making a stomach-churning sound somewhere between a crunch and a squish.

The man's insides revolted, but he turned away from the sight and struggled to his feet. 

Pain sliced up one leg, but he stumbled further from the giants, narrowly avoiding being stamped under Hugi's enormous, clumsy feet.

The sheer number of gargoyles was alarming. He'd never seen so many, and to see them attacking with so much abandon! 

As if they had no individual preservation instinct, they tucked their wings and dove for a chance to dig their claws into Jarnsaxa's flesh and bite into it like leeches. Terrifying, flying leeches. 

Thankfully, Edmar wasn't in their way, and received none of their attention. 

Unfortunately, the giant's efforts at defending Jarnsaxa meant that the human-sized beings were raining to the ground, pounding it alongside the heavy raindrops. The giantess's screams of outrage and pain shook the ground and made the men's ears ache. 

The slick, muddied ground impeded his retreat from the overhead battle. Trying to keep watch for falling creatures and not slipping while enduring near-blinding pain was almost too much for the man, but suddenly Roy was at his side, pushing him in the direction of the corral. 

The halfling was too short to be much physical support for Edmar, but his presence bolstered the man's confidence. 

Together, the two were narrowly able to avoid the falling bodies and stamping giants and get to relative safety while the sheets of rain beat mercilessly down on their heads. 

The Cetoans could see their leader, but not reach him through the fence that kept them in. With teamwork, they lifted each other over the top and began rallying around him. His earlier speech had confused them, but he still commanded loyalty from most of them in this strange time. 

He considered what to do with trepidation, glancing down at Roy. He didn't like taking instruction. He wanted safety for his men, but would running away while the opportunity was here upset the giants? 

Would they remain safe if they stayed? 

"We must stay." Roy replied, shouting over the rain, between Jarnsaxa's thunderous cries. "It matters not what happens to the men. If the giants eat them all, so be it." 

That didn't sit well in Edmar's stomach. He did intend to rule the world when he got back to it, with Tamas's help. Even though the men he'd brought with him were from an outlying settlement, and he'd never met most of them until the voyage, he still felt a tug of discontentment at throwing their lives away callously. 

"Run back to the ship," He told them. "Stay near the shore, and if I'm not back in three days, find a way to set sail and get home." 

"Do not lose our allies for the lives of these useless men," Roy hissed in a voice too low for them to hear. 

"You are not in charge, and Tamas isn't here to guarantee their safety. I have spent many men in pursuit of his goals and received nothing in return so far. I will keep my men in reserve. They can always be summoned back if the giants demand a meal." He said this last sentence to placate Roy, but technically it was true. 

If sacrifice was truly demanded in pursuit of his goals, he was prepared to make it. 

"Fine. Do as you will." Grumbled Roy. Though the halfling was Tamas's spokesperson, he did not have the power to command the Cetoans, and he knew it. 

"Run, go, quickly," Edmar could not help them since his injuries throbbed with pain. The ground still shook. 

The corral was emptied as the men lifted each other over the fence, and then en masse they melted into the jungle, braving the rain and thunder, as well as whatever creatures lurked there. 

Edmar sank to the ground in the mud, unable to keep his feet over the pain in his leg. Roy frowned at him more deeply than usual and with a bored air and rolled his eyes, offering the man a drink from a flask he produced from a pocket. 

The Commodore's son was about to take a deep swig, when the halfling snatched it back after merely a sip. 

That was enough for the bitter brew to take effect. A stabbing pain resonated through his injuries before they began to heal. He scrambled back to his feet; the rain was frigid, and the mud was miserable. 

He glanced at Roy, who was stoically observing the ongoing struggle between giants and gargoyles. 

The swarm had thinned considerably, and the remaining ones seemed to finally be taking the signal that they would not overtake the giantess. Her pained screeches were beginning to calm, and though her initial reaction had been frenzied and outraged, she and her husband seemed now to methodically be swatting down each gargoyle as opportunity arose. 

Another one smacked into the ground near Roy and Edmar, groaning in its death throes as it began to succumb to its internal injuries. 

Roy glanced up at the giants before taking three quick, loping steps to the dying creature.

"Are you intelligent?" He leaned down to ask. 

The great creature hissed at him through its teeth. 

"Are you animal or intelligent? Can you follow a leader?" He demanded. 

A gurgle escaped its mouth as purple blood oozed from between its teeth. It fell silent and Roy turned away in disgust. 

"Useless," He said, before covering his ears as the giants began to converse. 

"Loathsome, awful pests," Jarnsaxa spat as she struck another. 

With each gargoyle she killed, the rain seemed to lessen and the thunder began to quiet. 

"They are, yes." Awarnach agreed with his wife, though Edmar noted with some amusement that he had only a few glancing scratches while the giantess bore many bleeding, if relatively small, wounds. They looked almost like ant bites across her skin. 

Edmar covered his ears, unwilling to bear any more noise in them for the moment. He would have severe hearing loss if this continued. 

"Oh, we are hurting the little ones' ears," Jarnsaxa whispered with condescension. "Poor Edwin." 

"Do we care about that?" Awarnach asked. 

"Yes, of course," Jarnsaxa whispered again, though her eyes held Edmar's with a demanding glare. "This human's powerful friend is going to take us to the Below now, where those wretched things do not go." 

"If they've never been, how can they know the gargoyles don't go there?" Roy asked snidely in a low voice. 

"Your child speaks, how sweet. What an adorable question," Jarnsaxa waved her mighty hand across her face, slapping two more gargoyles and sending the last few flying away in defeat, their bloodlust dampened by the corpses of their brothers. "Other giants have gone before. The ladder that was used broke, and we have been unable to create another from the meager supplies of this world. We can shout to our kindred, but not reach them." 

"How many are there?" Edmar's eyes widened. The three giants were intimidating, to say the least, but more? 

"We last spoke some time ago. Going near the holes is dangerous, as the ground is thin and there is danger of breaking through. At last count, at least fifty survived the jump from the bottom of the rope to the Below as it broke." The giantess's eyes glazed over somewhat as if recalling that day. 

"And will these 'kindred' of yours follow Tamas?" Edmar asked slowly. The giantess's wounds were weeping large, slow drops of blood, like scarlet tears down her face. It was a ghastly sight. 

"Of course, if I tell them to. I am, after all, their queen." Jarnsaxa smiled like a sinister cat.