What kind indeed

So what ARE the giantesses going to be hired to do and by what kind of man is hiring them?

We shall see as for the second part here in a moment.

The first part is pretty simple. Right up their ally, really.

The merchant . . . is in need of some backup. Heavy backup, he says. He has a tale of woe and sorrow he lays on the girls. Had accepted a commission where he was to pick UP a certain shipment (didn't say what) which was . . . time sensitive to some gentlemen UP here. He'd made his payment to those who would supply his client who'd hired him, but they . . . failed to deliver. Laughed at him after coming ALL this way up here and . . .

. . .

Hey, let us just can this baloney and cut to the chase. The merchant here is a . . . smuggler of sorts. Or perhaps a facilitator of illicit and dark goods, magical and the more mundane types. In this case the merchant was up north to retrieval . . . something magical/mystical (he didn't ask questions). Just here his benefactor had not provided enough money for the increase in price his contacts wanted (and keeping the money he'd already perhaps foolishly handed over).

He'd come into this bar on the theory that he could perhaps acquire some "muscle" to "collect" what was his (and then some). Honestly, the Frost giantesses felt it sounded . . . kind of fishy, but . . . they'd give this human the benefit of the doubt.

Trusting souls, aren't they?

Well, the money sounded good and they needed a job. If they did very good in this "collection" operation, the merchant would hire them on as body guards.

With a little discussion they decided to accept the ask.

Of COURSE something went wrong. It had been going SO well, up until they got to the magic user and . . .

1. Slowly, they awaken to the sound of a "click" as they find something wrapped around their necks: a magical collar . . .

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