Though the blow struck true, it was not quite fatal; this one was a far tougher example of his kind, and it showed; his muscles rippled even more than any other giant Sbatarra had ever seen, his skin like iron, his flesh like steel, his bones like nearly unbreakable granite. The blade still struck true, fiercely, and left a horrific wound that bled through his now damaged armor. A great cry of pain and abhorrence came from him, and though he was at first dropped to one knee, he clambered to his feet andgripped his sword, spying the drow that was half his size. "Puny elf!" he roared with a sort of primal violence in his eyes. He raised his sword, great for even one of such stature as his own, made a sweep low enough to hit Sbatarra in the side. Though the swing was vicious and undoubtedly powerful, his blade had not been well-managed, and was dull enough to not slice her in two, the strike instead smashing into her. A second blow was struck as well, knocking her back to her original spot. His third attack, however, did not quite hit, being a downward slash that barely missed, burying the tip of the sword into the dirt.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, behind the fire giant, the stone giant looked on in horror as the one who had been his saving grace was assaulted. With a rush of anger and adrenaline, something in his spirit seemed to burn once more, and he bellowed something in Giant that, even if Sbatarra knew how to speak the language, she would not have said it in front of the children. He managed to get to his feet, charge, and he wrapped one forearm around the fire giant's throat, the inertia of such tall and weighty people knocking the two of them over. Thankfully, they had missed Sbatarra, the stone giant on his back and on the bottom, but his arm still pressed into the fire giant's neck.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>