After his brush with death, Leo moved with more caution. He had taken note of the man's tattoos, a set of consecutive dark red rings that ran around his forearms and knew to be extra careful if he ran into anyone else with those same markings.

Not that he would have much time to think or observe his opponents in the hectic crush that raged just ahead of him.

He stood up, blood dripping from his ruined shoulder and rolling down his arm; it flowed easily, leaving a murky puddle by his foot. Taking a deep breath, Leo wiped the sweat from his brow, leaving a bloody red streak on his forehead. It was hot and sticky, clinging to him like warm glue and appearing as some sort of gruesome warpaint.

If it weren't for the pervasive smell of iron and blood all around him, he might have reeked.

An elbow rammed into his side, and he whirled around, slamming his good fist into Tor's face.

"Ow!" she yelped, jumping back like a startled cat.

"Gods!!" Leo swore, his heart racing. "Don't sneak up on someone during a fight, you idiot!" He spat.

"Sorry," Tor panted. She had blood running down the side of her face from a cut around her temple and seemed to be leaning heavily on one leg. "My bad," she apologised, holding her nose as it began to bleed.

Leo nodded and took a deep breath, taking everything in. From the looks of things, the tribespeople were losing. Badly.

The giants with multi-coloured tattoos were moving through the battlefield like run away battering rams. Everywhere they passed, they left a bloody ditch in their wake, with broken bones and snapped weapons jutting out of the ground as little flagpoles to their conquest.

Spears bounced off them like raindrops, and punches fell without impact, glancing off muscles tougher than stone. They walked like living suits of armour, unflappable and yet, not quite unkillable.

Not long after the fight began, the hunters realised these giants were not invulnerable. No matter how tough their skin, an eyelid was an eyelid at the end of the day, and a spear always does serious damage if driven in a soft spot.

However, that was clearly not enough to turn the tides of battle.

The giants could aim for… well… everywhere, and despite their enormous size, they moved with speed and grace that seemed dissonant to their figures. While the hunters could only duck and weave, desperately stabbing out when the tiniest sliver of an opening presented itself, all the giants had to do was land one single hit. Even a glancing blow left bones in pieces as the victim dropped like a torn sandbag.

Leo glanced back and saw Gale and Fran stepping over fallen bodies towards them. The older folk moved with a grim confidence that betrayed their experience. Neither seemed as shaken up as one might expect.

In fact, Gale was practically glowing.

Although that may have had something to do with the steel cylinder he held in his hand.

Leo swallowed hard when he saw it, his lips turning dry.

His little explosive pellets were one thing, but that fire stick could blow a foot-deep hole in the side of a boulder. Even the giants wouldn't stand a chance against something like that.

"Leo!! Hello?! Are you in there?" Tor waved her hand in front of his face, and he snapped back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." he brushed her hand away and took a step forwards, taking himself away from the body. "Let's go see if Gale and Fran need our help," he said.

Tor nodded. "Good idea! I'll bet Gale still has a few tricks up his metaphorical sleeves." The old man, like all adult Karak, wore no shirt. With the scorching desert heat and the incredible durability Oasis granted, a shirt served no purpose for them.

Stolen story; please report.

Together, Tor and Leo rushed over to their approaching elders. With their stooped backs and wizened faces, the pair looked out of place on the battlefield. It felt like they should be somewhere resting, perhaps taking a nap or watching the younger Karak play with a proud twinkle in their eyes.

Not this… this carnage.

These were their elders. Wise people. They had to be... to have survived this long. And yet, there they stood, on a bloody rock with frost creeping in on all sides.

Fran had one of Gale's inventions in her hand - two metal rods in the shape of a cross with a leathery tendon pulled taught at one end. Leo felt uncomfortable seeing her like that. She was a healer, a woman of knowledge, not war.

She didn't belong here.

Fran took one look at Leo's shoulder and scowled. "How did that happen?!" She snapped.

Leo was just about to reply when Gale raised a hand and shouted. "We don't have time for that! Every second we waste chatting, we lose another fighter."

He strode past with a tight grip on the fire stick in his left hand. On his other arm, the hook was missing, replaced by a thick padded shield about the size of a person's head. Around his waist was a rough leather belt covered in hooks laden down with other strange mechanical contraptions that jangled like keys as he walked.

The other three hurried to follow him, chasing after the old man as he crossed the no-mans land and dove straight into the turmoil.

A fist flew at him, but he brought the padded shield up, shoving it in the man's face. Flames burst from it, swallowing the mercenary in a blinding orange plume, and as smoke rose from the smouldering corpse, the body fell in a charred heap, soon to be stepped over as yet another casualty.

Leo watched the gloved hand with wide eyes. "H-how?" he choked.

"He slotted one of those pouches into the centre of the shield," Fran said as she hobbled past. "It should have stopped him from receiving too much damage… I hope."

"C'mon! you've still got plenty of those pellets, right?" Tor shouted as she hurried to follow their elders into the fray.

Leo nodded and stared down at the bone pipe still held in his sole working hand. He could do this… he had to.

As their group tore through the outer perimeter – where the fights were closer to skirmishes – they charged like cavalry towards the centre, where the scent of death hung thickest. Frost coated the ground, and as hot blood fell, reddish steam rose, billowing up as the first cloud in many years was born. Since it was Guarda, it seemed fit that it be one of bloodshed, tinted with the faint tinge of life lost.

Red painted white as a billion lights flickered in the sky above, cheering them on like rabid spectators. It was in moments like these that some wondered where their gods were when they needed them most...

Leo wasn't sure when he fired his first shot. He knew it missed, but that was all. Luckily, the second one didn't. All he had to do was watch the distant man fall back in a cloud of smoke, his ribcage a smouldering mess. Leo had never even seen the man's face.

To his left, he saw Tor toss one of the little leather pouches towards a second-tier mercenary. The giant reached up, attempting to smother the projectile in one of his big hands, but the second his palm came in contact with the pouch, an inferno swallowed his arm like the mouth of a hellhound.

He was spun from the impact and crashed backwards into another giant who stumbled under his fellow's weight.

Unfortunately, unlike their previous opponents, these two didn't go down quite as easily. After the smoke cleared, the first giant was left with an arm charred black and eyes that burned with fury. He tore himself from his companion's grip and lurched forwards – almost drunkenly – stumbling in Tor's direction.

The other giant stomped after his injured partner, the pair stalking towards them with little more than their pride wounded.

"Oh no," Tor muttered, grabbing another one of the pouches and tossing it towards the oncoming giant.

But this time, he knew what said pouch was capable of and chose to avoid it, letting it fall by his side, leaving a crater in the rock where it landed.

Leo stuffed the pipe in his mouth and slotted one of the pellets into it, hurriedly firing it in the giant's direction. The metal ball flew towards him, dipping and landing on his knee in a brilliant explosion.

The man cursed and stumbled, toppling forwards like a felled tree and landing with a thunderous crash.

His companion started running at them, face twisted in a snarl. "Tor!!" Leo yelled.

She hurled a pouch at the man, but it landed short, leaving only a cloud of smoke for him to burst through.

Leo scrambled to get another pellet in the pipe, but he knew he would never make it in time.

The big man bore down on them with all the inevitability of a cresting wave. His footsteps were like miniature earthquakes, shaking the ground under his enormous weight, and his fists looked like misshapen cudgels, easily big enough to crush their head in a single motion.

But right as the giant neared Tor, and all looked lost, something metallic whistled as it shot into the side of his head. It was too fast to see what it was, and there was no following explosion, but the man's eyes went blank, and he toppled over, collapsing in a limp heap at Tor's feet.

Mouth hanging open, Leo glanced over and noticed Fran pointing in their direction. She held the small steel contraption in one hand with a taught leathery string at one end. "That was my only bolt!" She called out. "Next time, I can't save you!"

Leo nodded dumbly, still unsure of what exactly had happened. He would have to ask her later, but for the moment, there were giants to slay.