Thorvald’s Wyrd 073
One foe struggled free of its companions, shaking off a dead arm while kicking to untangle trunk-like legs from the other still-living creature. Back to coming assault, it rose up to its full height as Thorvald closed the distance between them. Axe raised over his right shoulder, he hoped to deal a crippling blow and so only face one in combat.
It turned as he swung. The shining crescent cleaved air to bite the hamstring vines behind the giants left knee, cutting deeper than he’d thought possible. Thorvald gave a whoop of fierce joy.
He never saw the rising club.