The giant came at him from out of nowhere, his great tattooed fist a blue blur.
Logen threw himself out of the way but it still grazed his cheek and caught his shoulder, sent him stumbling. So much for not getting hit.
A shield, and not a friendly one, shoved him into the back and he lurched the other way, head whipping forward.
He pitched on his face, nearly cut himself on his own sword, rolled desperately to the side and saw the Feared's huge boot thud into the ground, soil flying where his skull had been a moment before.
Logen scrabbled up in time to see the blue hand coming at him again. He ducked underneath it, hacked at theFeared's tattoed flesh as he reeled past. The Maker's sword thudded deep into the giant's thigh like a spade into turf. The huge leg buckled and he dropped forward onto his armoured knee. It should have been a killing blow, right through the big veins, but there was hardly more blood than from a shaving-scratch.
Still, if one thing fails you try another. Logen roared as he chopped at the Feared's bald head. The blade clanged against the armour on the giant's right arm, raised just in time. It scraped down that black steel and slid off, harmless, chopping into the earth and leaving Logen's hands buzzing.
'Ooof!' The Feared's knee sank into his gut, folded him up and sent him staggering, needing to cough but not having the air to do it. The giant had already found his feet again, armoured hand swinging back, a lump of black iron the size of a man's head. Logen dived sideways, rolling across the short grass, felt the wind of the great arm ripping past him. It crashed into the shield where he'd been standing, broke it into splintered pieces flung the man holding it wailing into the earth.
[...]
West grimached as Ninefingers lurched helplessly against the shields on the far side of the circle. The Feared raised his armoured fist to deliver a blow that could surely crush a skull to jelly. But it hit nothing but air. Ninefingers jerked away at the last moment and let the iron miss his jaw by a hair. His heavy sword slashed down, bounced off the Feared's armoured shoulder with a resounding clang. The giant stumbled back and Ninefingers came after him, pale scars on his rigid face.
'Yes!' hissed West, the men around him bellowing their approval.
The next blow shrieked down the giant's armoured side, leaving a long, bright scratch and digging up a great sod of earth. The last chopped deep onto his painted ribs and spat out a misty spray of blood, knocked him flailing off balance. West's mouth opened wide as the great shadow fell across him. The Feared toppled against his shield like a falling tree and drove him trembling to his knees, wilting under the great weight, his stomach rolling with horror and disgust.
- The Last Argument of Kings, Part II, The Circle