Bergelmir, the Half-Giant

This is the first story I have wrote on the site, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I am enjoying writing it. Please feel free to comment.

The first thing you notice as you pull yourself from your slumber is the back and forth motion of the waves and the hard floor. As you feel this your thoughts go back to your old home far in the north, you remember your father, leader of the village and a giant, how he always towered over you, even as you grew, he was a tough man, but even as far back as you can remember, he was old. You remember your mother, a beautiful woman to whom time seemed to never effect, how you outgrew her when you were six, her loving affection for both you and your father, even the old stories she learned from her childhood in the south, a land you would hear about almost every night, a land of knights and kings, lastly you remember back to when you were ten, the illness that took her from you, it was just a terrible fever one day, but the next she was gone, tears start to try to pull themselves to the surface but you fight them back; her left a wound in you, one you never fully got over.

Your father tried his best to raise you. But he was old and something in the village always needed his attention. That was until HE came, you were planing to head south to see if anyone from your mothers family still lived, when another giant, young and strong came to your home. He challenged your father to a fight for the leadership of the village, something honor dictated that your father could not refuse. It was a long fight, and your father struck many blows, but in the end your fathers age betrayed him, he died at the hands of the young giant, so you left, lest you be killed also, as you were his only threat. And while you were sad over the of your last parent you did not mind leaving the village as it held nothing for you now, you headed south to Itheria.

Itheria, A name which up until recently was solely a setting for childhood stories, Stories of knights and maidens, of kings and queens, a land of warmth and comfort. That was your goal now, hopefully no longer home to just stories but soon your home, maybe even your mother's family still lives.

You get up no longer wasting time with old memories you head to the bathroom, after finishing you squat down to the wash basin and splash the last vestiges of sleep away with water. You look down at yourself in the mirror, you would not call yourself handsome, even most people would not, rugged would probably best describe you, most pronounced was the scar across your face, an old bite mark from a wolf, a memory from your ignorant child self. You study your face further.

"Hair's getting long" you say to yourself

Your long black hair reaching your shoulders with a beard almost as long. Your pale blue eyes peeking out from under your hair.

You move to get dressed, the ship creaking under the massive weight of your size. You grab your clothes from the floor where you left them, they are mostly furs, but most of them are not even close to fitting your muscular eight foot tall frame. Just as you finish someone knocks on your door....