(story starts in the present, flashback to the past, then continues on to the end)

Panting heavily, I begin my climb up the side of the mountain, trying to reach the safety of the lands beyond the mountain pass.

(trees are thick here, hopefully offering me some cover, so many enemies dodged on my run across the valley, but I'm moving slower now that I'm near death, have I lost them? I can no longer hear the dying cries of my party. with my cleric's intuition, I have felt my party's threads of life slip from my grasp as each has fallen victim to the giants)

(flashback)

(we had been sneaking in and out of the giant fort all morning, pulling those dreadfully stupid young scragglies out for the slaughter)

(but the giants had gotten wise to our tactics and enlisted two elders to sit in waiting for our next foray into their fort)

(our next pull brought 2 of the young ones in addition to the two elders and the fight quickly became chaotic as the giants turned the tables, dividing the party)

(all fought bravely, but the odds were against us, the call to run by the melees)

(running, encumbered, not moving as fast as I should've since my magical speed had worn off, dropping the heavy bag of copper, dropping the huge sword that I had looted)

(flash forward to present)

(the end draws near, last minute decisions need to be made, cast my 2nd invuln? cast a heal on myself? or run?)

(stopping to catch my breath and heal my wounds, the giants catch up, death under the branches)