From the Inside Flap
Remy felt a tug on the back of his shirt and he screamed, rounding about and drawing Smacker out of his belt. However, it was only a little girl, no more than seven or eight.
"Nice job, Remy," Artesia commented. "You almost gave the kid a concussion."
"What is it?" Remy asked the girl.
"The giant only comes out at lunch," she said. "He eats all our fish, and demands that we catch more by the next day. If we don't give him what he wants--" The girl pointed to the remnants of a house. It was now no more than a midden pile of shattered stone, splintered wood and muddy thatch.
Remy crouched down and put his hands on the girl's shoulder. "It'll be all right," he told her. "If that mean, disgusting, smelly old giant comes around here, we're going to give him a serious whooping." Remy brandished Smacker, and the girl backed up a few paces, her eyes going wide.
"Where are you going?" he asked. "I'm not going to hit you. I'm just saying that a giant's nothing to worry about." He felt a tap on his shoulder and brushed it off. "Not now, Artesia. Where was I? Oh, yeah. A giant is nothing to be afraidof. They may be bigger than us regular folk, but they've got about a tenth of the brainpower. If that dumb giant shows up, I'll smack him so hard you'll be fishing his face out of the lake!" He felt a tap on his shoulder again, this time much harder. "What?" he yelled, spinning.
It wasn't Artesia he came face to face with. In fact, it wasn't a face at all, but a very large leg. Remy's gaze drifted upward, and he found himself standing face to knee with an angry giant. Villagers and onlookers swiftly backed away, and some of the faint of heart actually ran for it.
The giant was dressed in wool leggings and a gray tunic, belted at his oversized waist. Remy estimated his height at over twenty feet, and his dark hair and scraggly beard were cropped short. He was breathing heavily, looking down on Remy with malevolence in his eyes.
"Wow, you're light on your feet," Remy said.
"Fo, foo, fee, fi, fum!" the giant roared, spittle flying from his lips. With a look of irritation, he stretched his neck, cleared his throat and spat into the onlookers, just barely missing a group of young noble ladies huddled by an old well.
The giant glared down at Remy. "Sorry, I'm having one of my phlegmy days. What I meant to say was... SO YOU THINK I'M DUMB!?"
"No. Well, I mean, I've read a lot of stories and--"
"I am Barkon the Giant!" he shouted. "Who dares challenge me so? Is it you, little man?"