Semiurge has sent me this picture, in order that I might explain it to him.
(Note the two figures in the bottom-right. This warrior is big.)
When the Titanomachy came, when Ulasth and Samyazaz and all the giants of the world were slain, enslaved, or degraded, it was not the end of giants. Those giant men sometimes born among us mortals are not half the height nor the tyranny of their atavis.
Yet, some true titans remain. Prometheus, Enoc, and Cyclops have been spared imprisonment by virtue of their collaboration, transformation, or nepotism, respectively. And the children of each, nearly-titanous, stride across the lands humans traffic with the same reckless daring that they stride through the places where we dare not tread. They perform deeds of service to the gods, in the hopes that they will win freedom for their suffering uncles and aunts in Tartarus.
A premise: your adventuring party wants to rob a dragon of its hoard, but fear its retribution. You know that an Ettin-Paladin is on its way to slay the beast, which you could not do yourselves. When it succeeds, it will seize the hoard for its own as a tithe to the gods, and so you must thread the needle, robbing the dragon's followers at about the same time that the giant arrives. Naturally, if their battle spills into the section you are raiding it will be twice as dangerous as the mere presence of a dragon or giant, for neither care to spare your life and both wield terrible powers.
A premise: you have been sent with tribute, to beseech the Ettercap-Charlemagne of Adder Hill for aid. This requires you to carry an arc across miles of rotting demons strung up and filled with terrible maggots, through the boneyards of vanquished evils, and around the ancient traps of shattered dark towers.
A premise: you have been tasked by an angel with arresting one of these godlings. Good luck.
Your turn, Semiurge. This is your assignment:
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