On this Sunday morning before church, I reminisce about a giant of very short stature. One for whom this blog is named after. After not heeding a warning light going off in the back of his head while running through an anteroom full of short, whitish blobby mini-devils he proceeds forward into a great room, lit by four magical fires. He soon realizes his trouble.
So, what's a halfling to do? First drink your potion of spider climbing and your potion of giant stregth. Take Katrina's Greatsword that is normally too wieldy for a halfling not potioned up, climb the wall and jump off in last hurrah. A halfling's battle cry is not something you think of, but this day it would have put Bruenor Battlehammer's call in its place. With greatsword held in both hands pointing straight down between his short legs, he used all his wieght and enhanced strength to drive it down from the mighty jump from the ceiling. The Glabrezu never knew so much pain. A halfling? It almost drove the Glabrezu to know no more. Instead, he reached up and grabbed the fly sized creature from his back and crushed the halfling would be hero between its claws. Like Tristan, it was a good death.