Role

Chapter 2

Young storm giant stands on the peak of the mountain looking
to west at the darkness below, listening the sounds of the
borning battle, sounds of War he got used to from the birth.
He raises his hand from the tilt of the crude self-made
sword to the old rusty helmet to cover his eyes from the
rising sun as he turns to the east and looks down his native
village. He sees the people running along and his brothers
lining up into the rows wearing the shining armors of the
elite soldiers. He rans down the slope and takes the place
at the end of the line. He looks so young and awkward among
his brothers that leutenant just smiles griefly into his
maustache as he stops beside him.
- You are too young to join the strike, Caek - he says in a
deep giant bass.
His face blurrs suddenly and chorus of voices begin to swirl
around the young giant as his councious fades...
- Only true Maran can strike true - says a gentle elven voice
- Yah beh hearin de elders, squire - repeats the dwarven one
- You cannot go strike alone, Caek - human baritone agrees.
As the consciousness fades he hears the distant wise elven
voice deep in his mind: "Listen your heart, my child"..