The Stone Giants

In the morning, we flew across the mountains to the home of Hall Brew. He led the way, being amazed at the idea of flying. He had never experienced anything like it before. It took a little while for him to settle down and fly home.

As we arrived at the valley of the stone giants, he and Pitter went to his family's cave and talked with his family. They were overjoyed to see him. They had thought that they might never see him again. Pitter came and got us. We flew in and solidified inside their cave. They were a little shocked, but they quickly got over it.

His mother was Go No and his father was Me Fly. They were quite pleasant to talk with. They confirmed what Hall Brew had told us. They had been living here for a couple of hundred years. It had been quiet and peaceful. But that changed about five years ago. It was then that the other giants from the eastern continent fled here.

It was all rumors, but they talked of great winged beasts and raging bull-men. There are apparently quite a number of giants that came over. Most are staying in a camp to the south. We plan to go there tomorrow. But some of the giants were a bit more militaristic. They decided that they would take over these lands for their kind. And they forced Hall Brew to join them. Go No and Me Fly were very grateful. They asked if we wanted anything in return.

I smiled, nodded, and said, "How about some ale? Hall Brew has told us that you make a very fine ale."

At this Me Fly broke into a big grin and said, "With pleasure. I hope you don't mind a big hangover."

"Mind? I look forward to it."

And so we drank. And then I challenged Me Fly to wrestle. I evened up the odds and we had a good match, but with the strength of Kord flowing in me, I beat Me Fly. He looked at me, dark pride glinting in his eyes, and challenged me to a match without the power of Kord.

I looked at him and thought, why not? If I lose, I just demonstrate the power and benevolence of Kord. So I wrestled him without any help or aid. I was able to hold my own for a short while. But a giant is difficult. And I did indeed lose.

While I lay there recovering, with a good, and I mean good, drink of ale in the hand, that cocky Barrel came up and challenged me. Well, I was feeling light-headed and generous. I let him win. Multiple times. The trick was, of course, that the loser had to drink a giant-sized mug of ale each time. I got really drunk. That ale was powerful. I think it had legs. Or at least it seemed to by the time I got to the bottom of it.

I found myself floating at the top of the cave, my form merging with the smoke of the fire. It was pleasant and warm. I have just woken up and dawn approaches. Sadly, there is no Kordian cure for this headache in my head.

Mords of Wisdom: Drinking and wrestling are universal pastimes.