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Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
This is a first draft of a story set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is based on a home campaign so some of the people, places and things
may be different. Any helpful comments or suggestions are very welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
Voices could be heard raised in song. Deep and booming, they
echoed down the hill, across the valley floor and reverberated from the
stony slopes of the neighboring heights.
*"A snapping bow!" sang out a powerful voice.
"A burning flame!" came the response from a dozen throats.
"A grinning wolf!" the single voice sang back.
"A grunting boar!" the chorus of voices replied.
"A raucous crow!" "A rootless tree!"
"A breaking wave!" "A boiling kettle!"
"A flying arrow!" "An ebbing tide!"
"A coiled adder! "The ice of a night!"
Over the tops of trees and the edge of rock could be seen a
monstrous shaggy head. A giant with a mane of hair like a lion's and
a beard that was long as any dwarve's, its end stuck in his belt.
This giant was all red-brown and grey, his skin dusky like
oerth dried in the sun and his teeth broad and yellow. He opened his mouth
wide and a rumbling bass flowed out.
"A bride's bed-talk!" he sang.
More shaggy heads appeared behind him, though none as tall as
their leader. Side by side in pairs they came, singing out a reply in
chorus.
"A broad sword!" they chanted back.
"A bear's play!" the bass voice resonated through the air.
The black coated wolves came forward and the grey's drew back.
Their leader paced across the stones and his pack followed. They waited
near the entrance to the trail for their master's to arrive.
A full dozen giants followed the tall elder warrior. He
carried an axe of blackened steel and iron, and swung it from
hand to hand as he walked, though its haft was the height of a man
and the head heavy as an anvil.
Those that followed carried weapons in their hands. Axes like
that of their chief, swords with blades longer than the haft of a spear,
spears tall as trees and hammers that no man could hope to lift. On their
shoulders were set the ends of poles, linking one giant with his brethren
following behind, the two in tandem. Heavy sacks bowed these lengths of
wood, but the giants did not seem to mind their burden. Their voices
showed no strain as they chorused their response.
"A Chieftain's children!" the verse rang out, a dozen voices
strong.
"A witch's welcome!" "The wit of a slave!"
"A sick calf!" "A corpse still fresh!"
"A brother's killer!" "A hall half-burned!"
"A racing wolf who has wrenched a leg!" the giant chief bellowed
into the clearing, as he stepped from the trail. "Are never safe."
"Let none trust them!" his dozen followers finished with a
shout.
"Konig!" the chieftain called to the blackcoated wolves.
With slow and even strides, the packleader walked over to his
master and lay down before the giant's feet.
"I see that some of Karnash's pups have met you here." the giant
said to his wolf. "Big." he commented in a loud voice, then turned his
head to the giants behind him. "But stupid."
* * *
(To Be Continued...)
* "A snapping bow...." from the Elder Edda, The Words Of The High One
Stanza #82