The heavily-armored warrior grunted in pain as the giant's club struck him in the center of his chest, tearing the breath from his lungs. The aftermath was a testament to his tenacity; instead of being launched through the air or flung to the ground, the tremendous swing only managed to push him back a few feet. Small trenches formed in the dirt where he had slid, slightly bloodied by the bright red liquid that had been seeping from between the plates that composed his armor. The giant, a humongous creature with jet-black skin covered in glowing blue sigils, laughed heartily. The human was weak. How could such an insignificant creature hope to prevail against him? The bounty on the human's head was large, and as the monster saw it, well worth the gashes that had been left by his curiously-forged greatsword.
Russ adjusted his stance, his features never giving away even the slightest hint of trepidation. His sword was held high, leaving him in an awkward position if he tried to block. Surely, the giant thought, he was out of his mind. But, if the human was so eager to meet his death, the monster was all too happy to oblige him. The club came up in a powerful underhanded swipe, aimed to catch the human in the jaw. He could almost feel his pay weighing down his coinpurse as the weapon curved upwards in a perfect arc.
But the human was ready.
With a leap, Russ leapt up and onto the incoming bludgeon. The runed giant's face twisted into an expression of rage as he moved- how dare his target avoid a certain deathblow? The creature got its answer when its expression became two expressions. The zweihander in the man's hands was brought upwards as he ascended, propelling him mere feet over his enemy's head. With a single cleave, the massive creature's skull had been bisected. It stood for a moment, not quite sure what to do before falling headlong onto the ground.
The human spat at the corpse. This was
not how one-man assignments were supposed to go.
A barrage of arcane energy flew forth from beyond the clearing, striking the Wizard Slayer multiple times. One of the bolts impacted his weapon, taking a semi-circular chunk out of the blade. Like water, the greatsword simply flowed back together as if nothing had happened. The majority of the blasts that struck him simply vaporized into nothingness, their structure obliterated by the antimagical energies coursing through his veins. Those that did not break upon his unnatural defenses were simply ignored. What's a few blasts of fire when you've been trading blows with a giant?
His assailant was a slight-framed man, clad in red robes with golden trim. His head was entirely bald, save for his eyebrows. His voice resounded in impossible ways as he commanded the powers of magic to strike down his target, but worry was growing on his face and in his tone. The Slayer snarled, and barreled right into the would-be assassin. The man fell to the ground as over three hundred pounds of flesh and armor collided with him, and his incantations died on his lips. Before he could recover,
Russ picked the stunned figure up by his collar and placed his blade to his neck.
"Start talking." the armored man commanded, his tone almost completely flat. His dark green eyes practically radiated malice as they bore into the barely-conscious man's face.
The mage managed a weak laugh, and uttered a few quick words. His remaining energy fled his body in a rush of concussive power, obliterating his form even as the Slayer held him. Though Russ's resistance was able to shield him from the worst of the blast's effects, the raw power of the spell threw him back against a tree. He heard and felt something snap in his chest; a few ribs had just been broken, at the very least. Had he not been wearing his travel pack, that impact might have broken his spine. The world grew fuzzy, and the clearing in the forest began to fade from his sight. He gripped his greatsword in his right hand and coughed, trying to force his body to get to its feet- to no avail.
The world went black.