Blasting the giants* with lightning, while an effective means of getting them to change formation, doesn't actually break it up much. Indeed, they merely re-orient to try to attack Hatcher. A third of the hill giants and most of the trolls start lumbering towards the source of this annoyance, while the remaining giants hang back a bit and start hurling boulders (and, in one case, a dead sheep).
This, of course, gives Maya's pack a wonderful chance to strike at the now clearly defined rear of the battle. Three white wolves and one pale human dart in and back out; three hill giants fall - from the sounds of their cursing, none too pleased with suddenly discovering fangs sunk into their legs.
A few of the trolls in the front group, perhaps a bit more alert than their companions, turn around to assist the beleaguered giants.
Of the two trolls that had stayed back, one roars and charges at Maya, a wild swing of his club smashing into the ground where she had been standing a moment before.
The other grins and points his club at Fang. A gout of fire explodes from the tip of the weapon, leaving several burning trees and one apparently untouched wolf in its wake.
"That tickled," comments Fang, with a predatory grin of his own.
The troll blinks. "What? Zees eez imposseeble! Winter wolves and fire are like Ogres at a tea party! Nozzeeng eez left but ashes!"
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* "Giants" used here as a generic term that encompasses both hill giants and trolls.
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