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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Videssian" data-source="post: 1644816" data-attributes="member: 1990">Torsten thinks back on his recent past.. the events which had so changed his life and caused him to end up the company of this diverse group of folk..They had come with overwhelming force, in the middle of the night, using their hugegreatswords like threshing scythes, cutting down groggy soldiers like ripe wheat.  Theyhad used magic; they had appeared inside the stockade walls, everywhere at once.  Thebattle, such as it was, was decided in a few moments.You came to the next morning, tended by an elvish matriarch of Morwyn, only one of hergentle eyes visible behind her own bandages. Around her lay the survivors of the giantishraid, including the Captain.  The Captain's face was a mask of grief, anger, and shame.He was unwounded.  You, too, felt the shame of it.The next day, the Captain brought the survivors together. His words were brief,but charged with rightous anger.  We will not be taken so easily, he said.  We willnot be defeated by these ogres, he said. We will make them pay, he said.Days later, you and your fellow troops were overlooking a cave, deep in the northcountry, far from the battle lines. The Captain had lead you here; no Legionnairegeneral had given the order.  This was the Captain's fight, not some pansy Empiregeneral's.  The generals had ignored them, the Captain said, and now things had to betaken into our own hands.Your troop starts the raid early, before dawn....the Captain gives the order, andyou attack.  The cave's defence is light, and taken unawares.  Only after a string ofsuccesses do you realize that you are raiding a cave that giantish families(women and children) have been hidden. There are no giantish warriors here.  This is nota military victory; this is a punative slaughter.The women and children fought bravely, but your troop over came them.  You (along withthe others) are ordered to "leave no survivors"; that would include murderingthose that had surrendered.  Most of the troops do just that, their hatred and angerfilling them.  Some of your fellow brothers-in-arms even smiled beautifically as theycovered themesleves and the dry ground with giant gore.There was a small gianish child laying curled at your feet.  She was crying, and holding aragged cloth doll beneath her. You are angry at the giants, to be sure.....youknow them to be a cruel and viscious race...they are winning this war, and theyslaughtered your brothers-in-arms.....but you could not bring yourself to do it.  Forsome reason, you put away your weapon, loisted the child (she's big!!), and slippedout of the cave.  The girl-child offered no resistance.You headed back to the the place of your own childhood - your parent's farm.  "Thecaptain will have noticed my absence", you mumble to the child in your arms, "butwill he assume that I was ambushed and thus dead? Or will he consider me a deserter? "Or even worse, did he see me take the giant child and so declare me an enemy?" Other dark thoughts skitter across your mind as you travel.  It's a long journey;It's mid-July before you reach your father's home.  It has changed quite a bit...butthen again, so have you.It doesn't take long to convince your parents to take in the Giantish child.  You hopethat years forward, if the child can be raised with kindness, perhaps he will nothave the savagery of his kin. Your mother agrees - but your Uncle does not.  Still, youwere able to pacify him with tales and stories from the north country. Besides, you said,work that requires teams of oxen to do would be light work for an adult giant....."If we can hide her for long enough." mutters your uncle.</blockquote>

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