The Monk
The forest felt warm and oppressive around Galroth. He was a Goliath, a half-giant, from the cold, mountainous Hodlands. He was used to chill winds, snow and the humid forest caused a sheen of sweat to cover him. It trickled and slid uncomfortably over his hard muscles while insects buzzed around his ears. After an hour of walking, he took off everything but a cloth around his waist and still he sweated, but at least he could ignore most of the discomfort.
He moved aimlessly through the forest, but remained vigilant. While he was hoping to encounter Elves, there were rumoured to be many dangerous beasts and monsters residing here and it wouldn't do to be caught unaware. While Galroth was confident of his combat abilities, anyone could be defeated if they were attacked before they were aware that the fight was on.
While he had trained for combat most of his life, Galroth wore no armour and carried no weapons. All he had was a shoulder pack was clothing and a few other items, none of which looked dangerous; and despite his size and hard slabs of muscle on his lithe body, he didn't seem particularly threatening. He very much hoped that he wouldn't be seen that way.
As the afternoon grew later, Galroth got what he was hoping for. He noticed tell-tell rustles from the brush, the sudden silence of a bird that had been squawking in the trees. While the Goliath didn't see anyone, they knew how to hide in the forest too well for that; but he was certain that someone was there.
It was still a surprise when they jumped out. Galroth had been taking a drink by a small stream as the light had nearly faded. Reflexively, he turned and confronted the person but it was not quite what he expected.
The Elf was a woman, beautiful in a leather breastplate and tight leggings. She held a bow with an arrow nocked and ready. Her red-brown hair, the colour of leaves turning in the autumn, tied in a top-knot would be luck to top five feet, while Galroth had been considered a little short at slightly less than seven and a half. Her face, was set in a grimace, obviously trying to look fierce.
Galroth almost laughed, but successfully covered it when he remembered his purpose here and 'slipped'. Landing on his backside in the mud he looked at her with what he hoped was a guileless smile. His empty hands spread wide.
The Elf said something insistently which was obviously some sort of order, although if it was 'don't move, hands where I can see them,' or 'you are my prisoner', Galroth couldn't tell. She still had the bow ready, the arrow trained on his chest, although as she looked at him he noticed that she licked her lips.
"Who are you?" she eventually asked in the common tongue.
Although he spoke the language well, Galroth simplified his speech, "me Galroth." He wanted to appear as on-threatening as possible.
"What are you doing here?" She asked slowly, talking to him like he was an idiot.
"Galroth hear Elves good people," he said. "Galroth's people need help. Need to speak with Elf leader."
"What do you need with her?"
"Need help," Galroth repeated as if it was obvious.
"Yes," the Elven woman said, stamping a foot in frustration which seemed incredibly cute to Galroth, "but what does an Ary Siffi like you need with us?"
"Help!" Galroth said, "need help from Elves. Elves good, yes?"
"All right," she said eventually, "get up and start moving."
As he faced away from her, Galroth smiled. His first objectives had been achieved. He was being taken to the Elven leader and his captor was unaware of his true motivation.
The Elf would indicate the way, usually by pointing with her bow, although she took the arrow and put it back into her quiver. She stayed at least fifteen feet behind him as he walked and, it took him at least twenty minutes for him to realise that most of the time she was looking at his ass. That, and his thick and well-muscled thighs. He certainly didn't mind, but he would have thought she would consider a gigantic man, at least compared to her, would be seen more as dangerous than something sexy. Granted, her head was about the height of the small of his back, so maybe he was imagining it.
While she was certainly a great combination of beautiful and cute, she was bustier than her short stature would suggest, at least with normal Goliath women as a guide. However, Galroth didn't allow himself to be distracted. For the past fifteen years he had trained relentlessly to be a living weapon. His body obeyed his mind's commands and his will was harder than adamantine.
After fifteen years among his people, Galroth had learned all that he could. The next step was to challenge and defeat one of the masters of the martial arts. It had taken long study, but he had eventually heard from several travellers, that the 'Defender of the Rising Sun' resided within the Elven court at Miir'Foranis. He couldn't be certain who it was, but if he was taken to the Elven queen the Defender should be there and would hear his challenge. Once issued, the challenge must be accepted and the contest must be held. The victor would be the Defender of the Rising Sun and the defeated would, by tradition, be bound to service for a year and a day to the victor. This was to pass on any unknown techniques as well as to discourage constant challenges. If losing meant being a slave for a year, then one challenged at their peril. However, Galroth saw this as they only way he could advance in his life's purpose.
The Elf guiding him told him to stop and wait for a moment. She then moved up a gully and behind a bush which grew there. The sun had almost set and the gloom in the forest was beginning to make it difficult for Galroth to see. She returned seconds later and gestured for him to follow her.
The area beyond the bush was a very neat camping area. The ground was relatively flat, except for where the tiny stream cut at the side of the gully. Three sides were surrounded by a steep slope of over thirty feet and the last side was covered with brush. Near the middle was a circle of stones for a camp fire indicating that it had been used before.
The Elf crouched down and began setting sticks to make a fire.
"You want, me do?" Galroth indicated and gestured toward the circle of stones. She nodded and he set to work. After setting back and watching him for a while, she said that she was leaving but that he should stay. He got the fire going, filled a pot with water from the stream and put it on a tripod. The pot and tripod were with some other camping supplies he found under an oil-cloth at the back of the camping area.
After a little while, the Elven woman returned carrying two rabbits she had shot. She regarded Galroth and the fire for a second before sitting down and beginning to skin, clean and gut her catch. Most of this was done in silence, a little uneasy, but also comradely. They knew that they were going to be together for the short term so they were making the best of it. The both examined each other, looking while trying to not appear that they were looking. 'She is certainly comely,' Galroth thought, 'it is surprising that a woman so good looking is patrolling the forest.' Galroth knew that if a Goliath woman were this good looking, a strong warrior or great craftsman would probably court her and offer her a life of luxury and comfort.
While Galroth didn't know what she was thinking about him, as their dinner cooked, he did catch her staring at him more than once. "What you name?" He asked.
