Gigas’ Tale: Size Matters

At last! I have finished writing Gigas’ Tale! Yes, Gigas’ Tale, the awesome story of my primary D&D character, Gigas the Halfling Sorcerer. The previous chapters in Gigas’ Tale are accessible via the evil-looking Gigas’ Tale button at the very top of the page. The character notes, accessible via that same page, might help if I failed to explain something or other.

This chapter, along with the next three or four, make up the final segment of the Tale. They take place half in the time of the rest of the Tale, and half in the future, at the campaign’s end…


Grundosh had the biggest axe. That meant he was the boss. And being the boss meant he got first pick of the tasty juice. One of the other orcs disagreed. Now there was one less orc in the party.

What luck, finding this village completely deserted. The shamans said it used to have lots of silly little people in it. Grundosh hated to argue with the shamans (their axes were REALLY big), but there were no silly little people here now. And that meant that whatever they found in the little, abandoned inn, they could keep.

The food looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. Some of the bottles were still good, but some of them tasted funny. That’s why it was so important for Grundosh to get his first pick. He chose a barrel of swill that smelled sweet, and drank his fill.

Maybe he drank too much. Because suddenly he could see one of those funny little people, right in front of him. It was like he appeared out of thin air. He barely came up to Grundosh’s thigh, and he was wearing a lime green robe, red cloak, purple slippers, a dark feather hat with a regal crown sitting awkwardly atop it, a couple of shiny rings, an amulet that sparkled blue, metal gloves with red, yellow, and blue paint on them, and a belt with a bright silver buckle. Grundosh’s reactions were slow from all the drink… was this some kind of colorful ghost?

No. The other orcs, sober and angry (because they were sober), all growled at the intruder. They picked up their axes (which, to reiterate, were much smaller than Grundosh’s) and advanced on him.

The little man pointed at one of the orcs, and a pale green ray shot out of his fingertip. The orc disappeared in a powdery poof. Another orc charged, but was surprised to find that the green robe was hard as steel. He was even more surprised when the little man froze him solid with a cone of ice.

By this point, Grundosh realized something was wrong. He picked up his big axe. Two more of the orcs tried to flank the little man, but he stepped deftly out of the way and did some kind of multi-colored magic thing that made the other orcs fall over. So, magic was his game, was it? thought Grundosh. Well, the joke was on his foe. Because now he was facing away from Grundosh, and Grundosh had a big axe. And a clear view of the man’s little neck.

Someone tapped Grundosh on the shoulder.

Grundosh wheeling around instinctively, big axe at the ready — and found himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. As he stared dumbly, she leaned in quickly kissed him on the lips. That was the last thing Grundosh knew before he passed out cold.

“Nice move, Tiva,” grinned the little man.

The succubus winked at him. “Thank you. I was afraid you’d be jealous.”

“Of him?” shot back Gigas. He kicked the weapon out of the unconscious orc’s hand. “I know a dwarf with bigger axes than that.”


Gigas sighed, and looked back at Tiva. Tiva, the Friendly Succubus, as Gigas liked to call her. A dragon’s spell might have drained the evil out of her, but she was still a succubus, and had a way of… talking people into things. That’s how he happened to be standing here, in his old hometown, for the first time in years.

“So…” said Tiva. “This is where it happened?”

“Yes. He was hiding right… there,” he said, pointing up the stairs and at the broken door to what used to be a guestroom. The first door on the left.

“How did you get in? Invisibility?”

“Nah, I couldn’t do it at the time. I snuck in, disguised as a fellow human.”

“How?”

Gigas twiddled with his belt.

“Ah,” said Tiva.


“Are you sure a beard’s necessary?” Gigas had asked, feeling the uncomfortable scratchy hair on his chin.

“Absolutely!” Zookle the gnome nodded vigorously. “The demon summoner is a human supremacist, so you’ve got to convince him you’re a genuine human if you want him to follow you out.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” agreed Gigas. “And I got the part where I convince him to follow me into the ambush. It’s the ‘having a beard’ part I don’t got.”

“Trust me. Only humans have these,” Zookle said, tugging on the hair gently.

“Ow!” Gigas grumbled. The hair was real, although Zookle had promised it would fall out in a few hours. “Don’t dwarves have beards?”

“Huge ones,” Xanathia said, cocking her head. She seemed skeptical of the whole idea, but maybe elves were naturally cautious. “Are you sure this belt of yours is safe?”

“Of course. I just touch this spot here to double my height, and that spot there to shrink back.”

“How often have you used it?”

“Lots of… Really often. I mean, probably 10, 20… very much. Very much times.”

His disguise complete, Gigas waltzed into the inn. He got a couple of laughs from some townies who recognized him, but Gigas just winked at them and walked up the stairs, to the first door on the left.

He knocked. The door was opened a crack.

The man on the other side was the same one Gigas had seen through the window: a dark-haired, dark-eyed scowling man in summoner’s robes. Of course, Gigas had been his proper size last time. Now that he was almost 6 feet tall, Gigas found himself actually looking down a little to meet the human’s eyes. Now that was an unfamiliar sensation!

But, no time for amusement. “I speak for Demon Lord LeBranche,” said Gigas in what he hoped was a human accent. The summoner’s eyes widened, and Gigas stepped in. The door closed behind him.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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