The Barbarian Horde

Sir Perival galloped across the dry grass of the plains before his castle. It seemed there would be no feasting at his return tonight. The garrison of his castle had other serious matters to attend to. Drawing his sword, Aldruin, from its sheath, he drove his steed faster across the shaking earth.

Smoke and dust rose from the castle walls as they cracked where the giant woman grabbed them. Walls that had stood for four hundred year as a bulwark against barbarian incursions from the north were crumbling in her grasp. She wasn’t even trying to break the walls down, just to brace herself as she bent over and her colossal companion entered her from behind. Thrust after thrust he sent into her, their muscular bodies smashing against his ancestral home. So far the keep was still standing but for how much longer?

As he got closer, the smell of their sweat washed over Sir Perival. He could almost feel their grunts bodily through the air. He could now hear the shouts and cries of the castle defenders as the organised their defence. It was an odd battle where there was not the sound of the clash of steel, but the dull thud of falling bodies, of sword on thick hide and flesh, and of the crashing of stone as thick walls break apart and fall.

Now entering the gate, Perival urged his steed onwards to the keep, charging through the interior of the building as far upwards as the horse could fit. Finally in the upper reaches of the castle he dismounted and leapt up the spiral stairs to the roof. When he burst through the door of the turret and into the open air, Perival was greeted by the sight of the two huge hands of the giantess, tearing into the structure of the building. Her enormous breasts swung overhead, threatening to demolish the tower. Perival ran forwards and swung his blade with all his might, impacting on the giant woman’s nail just as the floor gave way beneath him and he dropped through the roof into the darkness of the building below.