The Twilight Giants 03 - The Titan of Twilight by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Forgotten Realms]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-08T16:37:27+00:00

Tavis stepped past the shaman and hobbled around the flag tower, clenching his teeth at his pain. He felt bloated and hot inside, as though someone had gorged him with boiling oil, while every breath of the chill air filled his lungs with a keen, biting numbness. He found a fomorian hunter standing in the corner where the tower abutted the battered keep.

The brute had thrust his head and arms through a breach in the second-story wall, so that only his hairy, pear-shaped back was visible. The gnawing sound came from inside the building. At the fomorian's feet lay a suit of mangled armor splashed with blood so fresh it was still steaming in the cold night air.

A fiery, seething rage boiled up within Tavis, filling him with a fury almost too great for his battered body to withstand. The color drained from his vision, his ears started to ring, and a sour, acrid taste burned the tip of his tongue. He pulled a broken length of floor joist from a nearby rubble pile and stepped over to the fomorian, raising the board in his good hand.

"What are you doing?" gasped Munairoe, coming around the flag tower. "Need I remind you—"

Tavis swung the timber as hard as he could, smashing

it into the back of the fomorian's legs. A strangled shriek reverberated inside the gallery. The hunter's knees buckled, then dropped to the rubble-strewn ground with a tremendous clatter. His head popped out of the breach in the wall, his loose jowls shaking and the mangled thigh of a human warrior dangling over his blubbery lip. He spit the leg against the keep and roared in pain, then turned toward his assailant. When he saw who had assaulted him, the look of astonishment and hurt in his eye changed to resentment.

"Why hit Awn, you?" The fomorian raised his fist. "Awn smash, yes him should!"

Tavis could barely hear the words over the ringing in his ears, and the marrow in his bones had changed into something like molten lava. He stepped forward and smashed his club into Awn's ribs, then slipped away to avoid a counterblow. The astonished hunter doubled over, holding his ribs and grunting for breath.

"Maybe this... will... teach Awn not to... eat the dead!" The acrid taste in Tavis's mouth had so dried his tongue that the words seemed to stick to his teeth.

The high scout raised his club again. Before he could strike, Raeyadfourne came pounding around the flag tower and jerked it from his hand. Awn spun toward Tavis, his own hand raised.

"Now Awn mad!"

Raeyadfourne reached over Tavis's head and pushed Awn into the wall, then quickly interposed himself between the two combatants.

"This is a firbolg prisoner," the chieftain warned. "He's under my protection."

"Not when him hurt Awn, no." The fomorian pointed to a red welt where Tavis had smashed the floor joist across his knees. 'That hurt plenty—and him do it for fun!"

Raeyadfourne glared at Tavis. "You promised to

behave as a prisoner of honor."

"I am." Tavis pointed at the mutilated remains in the corner.

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