Towering Giant, Survival of the Fittest
Scouring the monsters was in it of itself a means of survival. Something had to reveal a weakness, their armaments were in fact ancient and it spoke heavily of their effervescent nature and talent for murder. In the middle of their chest there it laid a marvel of a gem, glistened with a strength Hafrbjǫrn had not peered in almost a lifetime. His hands cradled its form and turned it to sunlight, allowing it to reflect through its limpid surface. Perhaps this could be infused with a weapon. An alchemist or even a rune expert could detail its qualities, if not, it could make a lovely ring for someone else. Regardless, such made its way into the giant's pouch. Standing, it seemed like it was about time to proceed further into the depths of this ruin. It was unwise to continue forwards without much strength in distance combat, this was an opportunity the giant would be foolish to pass up. He pulled the quiver and bow off a snakemen that hasn't tattered it enough during their squabble. Laced still with the poison, he carefully strapped such to his waist, as he couldn't on his back due to size, adjusting the belt as well as he could, he perforated another whole with his carving knife, broke an arrow and strapped the wood upon it well enough to sustain its sturdiness on his hips. Calmly following the now, large crow of people down their desired destination. The walls still held lingering traces of history, some faded into the stone unable to disclose any tales of secrets rites or passages of these places.
Hafrbjǫrn had a looming sense of dread pestering him. Although he had been assigned to protect Garrett something about everything of this screamed dangers. Though their trek seemed endless and they have not met even a single sneakmen, but a myriad of bodies and corpses was enough to bellow that whatever was here was not keen on letting its secrets known. Hafrbjǫrn however wore his silence like a piece of fine tempered armor. It was not his place to speak, but follow. Their feet continued and continued what seemed to be an endless path through this place. Hafrbjǫrn couldn't tell how far or deep their were underground or above ground anymore. The present smell of dust, mold and death surrounded them in an embrace before they made it to the end, with more dead men at their feet, but what Hafrbjǫrn had captured as to be this party's leader spoke about their tardiness of arrival to save these men. Hafrbjǫrn crossed armed heard what he had to say, and one of the younger ones decided to voice his discontent on the idea of leaving. Another young warrior clad in foreign armor. Not a whisker in sight and jet-dark hair which naturally flowed down to his shoulders.
Next was a young woman, hair shorter than the man who spoke, her set of armor strangely resembling that of a rouge, yet there was far too much clad involved to be anything of the sort. These two have been talking quite regularly, but that had to be expected of the seams when traveling with comrades. She too, seemed to have agreed to proceed. Hafrbjǫrn on the other hand felt it wiser to leave before the terms turned for the worst. The greed of men fashioned many forms, one of them in the selfless cloth of aid. To help those that perhaps do not need the help is in itself a form of greed. A need to satiate a hole upon their center, something Hafrbjǫrn couldn't agree with. But then he peered on himself, certainly continuing this journey for a couple Soverns was in itself greedy. Another one spoke however this did not seem as young as the previous one. Her weapon, ah what an intricate craft indeed. It is not something Hafrbjǫrn had the luxury to assemble quite yet. It was a marvel to behold, but his mien did not disclose this. If perhaps he would be a better conversationalist he would've praised such craftsmanship, however all that was handed was a quick glance. Now, what to do?
Hafrbjǫrn wanted to turn, perhaps this was it. This was the end for his journey with these people who seemed banked on their own interests. No, not that, there is some altruism behind this. Something that might herald a benefit for passerby's. However, any who venture this far into the area certainly does not expect to find anything that is not treasure. Bandits were ones who captured them and held them prisoners. This place reeked of unsavory deceit. Yet, the giant merely remained silent.
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