The heavily fur cloaked man gazed at the dismal scene before him and grunted with dissatisfaction. The village or what remained of it lay broken and smoldering in fire that even winter’s grip could not choke.
The stranger noted large craters all about the village; several recently trampled bodies were scattered around. Most of these bodies appeared to be children or the very old. The man knew of only one creature that could leave such tracks and commit such acts of violence upon the weak and leave no other bodies about. These creatures never attacked for gold, they had come for food, but it was not grain they sought. These foul beasts fed upon the flesh and bones of humankind. They were called the Jotunn, or frost giants.
Ing the Viking had hoped to seek a night's rest in this small village; one he had visited with much pleasantry a few winters ago. It now appeared he would be a most unwelcome guest at a meal most unnatural. It would be two full moons before he could meet up with his wizard elf Kipp, who was away taking part in an ago old ceremony among his people, one that did not permit the presence of outsiders.
If there ever was a time he needed Kipp by his side it was now. But Ing could not let this injustice go unpunished and he hoped beyond his own doubt that some of the villagers did yet still live. Ing had survived a great many battles and proudly bore their scars. Yet facing a band of man eating giants in their own caverns, this would be a feat most impressive, and perhaps foolish. Yet the Viking could not help but grin at his own rash bravado as he looked to a lone mountain beyond the village, surrounded by smaller crags, the very nest of the foul creatures he sought. Ing retrieved his midnight steed and took to ride northward, seeking a new fate among giants.
Cathalson – 2011 / CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT PERMISSION.