… an ice giant emerges from the tree canopy.

There is a low animalistic growl and the sound of splintering wood as a huge beefy hand parts the canopy above you all. Then there is a giant’s roar that shook the ancient pines like thunder as it spied you all. A thirty-foot behemoth of corded muscle wielding an entire uprooted oak as a club, the trunk still dropping muddy sods and splintered roots. A massive leering face loomed gruesomely above you. “Oh ho ho! Toy dollies! Fun!” Its booming voice declares.

Your mismatched eyes widen at the enormity of the brute as you size it - no him - up. He must be well over thirty feet tall! Your eyes widen even more as they rest upon his giant manhood. Over … you did the math. “Holy shit…” you mutter. This is a guy that wouldn’t give you the little **** but the big one.

“Attack!” The orc maiden cries to the party. “Hey dickhead! Yeah you! Your mother’s a whore!” She strides forward, calling down agro on herself, growing another half foot and a cup size as she rages. You stare at her suddenly much larger breasts then turn to consider strategy.

How you tackle this brute is going to speak volumes about your build…