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Prince Inigo rode south to the mountains, where giants bellowed challenge at his standard. When they fell the rocks boomed like kettle drums; his blade was white with their blood.

Those fled who would not battle, and by spring their savagery was gone from the land. The people of the kingdom came bustling behind him and settled in to iron out the hills.

Inigo found himself lord of a castle in a peaceful and prosperous land. But for his absent brothers, it was quite like home.

He took up his standard and rode south yet deeper, and was not seen again.