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What are you waiting for?
How exactly did he get out of this one?
"I charged them." He stated flat and hollow unaware of the leaning-in crowd.
It was a slippery, bendy, floppy charge, but it was the first thing he could come up with having seen their fear.
If even for a moment, he had to capitalize. He wasn't planning the next
he had to think of all three
and their gigantic, powerful frames, and their colossal plated bodies
and that's when he recalled a brief study he had on the subject of killing giants.
Whole books and tomes have been published on the subject of slaying the ludicrous, the fantastical, and nightmarish- few people read them as an actual howto, but more as a fancy and silly way to pass a lazy warm afternoon. The simple truth is not everyone finds themselves in these predicaments
sure
Traveling along some lonesome totem ridden highway to visit a shrine in the mountains, or being the grandson of an exorcist, legend, or abduction-prone princess makes the material a bit more mandatory, but few standing armies in this age have the spine to hunt, much less train and ally themselves with the truly wild and horrific. The age of armored titanic beasts has slid rapidly to canonshot and ballista, and those handy packetguns for the rank and file.
Byron hadn't so much read the subject, as sat around enough campfires littered with talkative jerky-toothed old timers to pick up a few pointers he had never intended to use.
"An old soldier told me the best way to beat a heavy target is to knock him over, his feet might be solid granite but if you shake him up a bit and pull just right- you might knock him on his ass, that day I found the most useful tactic against a mostly metal giant was the ankle grab and slide"
His charge had the desired effect, that momentary jolt between "run" and "wait... that's no threat whatsoever" had shifted his target's weight off enough for Byron to dive, hook his foot and flip the razorman onto his face.
"I grabbed his ankle and slid right under him. Mud and spluck went up places I didn't know I had, but I managed to get him off his feet- you can guess its hard enough to get back up in armor, but its worse in pouring rain and mud"
The mud stung pretty bad in his open cuts but the rain washed most of it away within moments. Things were getting blurry, a little numb, and slow, the time between an idea and an action kept getting fuzzier and further apart.
"I kept running, knowing I'd get a good jump on them, and if I was lucky, the fuses were dry"
"why didn't you kill em with your sword?"
"Oh-" he thought back to the disturbingly ritualistic way it was left stuck upright in the first razorman's body, and the lie he had already told about the second.
"I swung it so hard on the second giant's head, it broke at the handle"
There was a stunned chorus of gasps and, if it were possible, the crowd managed to lean and crowd a bit closer.
Polite folk.
Maybe a bit... simple.
