Granthurg stepped forward, to the edge of the platform, and squinted out into the dark rain. The oculus lamps shone, but revealed nothing but river and more rain.
What were those lights? They looked like they were gleaming from the shore... He ducked under the edge of the tarp and hopped off the platform. Instantly, he felt the chill of the rain falling on his face and bald head, and running onto his shoulders, soaking his shirt. He hefted his hammer and strode toward the bow of the boat. Maybe he could see better from there.
As he took the last steps to the bow, to stand next to the oculi, he strained to see beyond their glow. All he could hear was the torrential rain falling around him, on him.
He shrugged and shook off the wet as much as he could and turned around, to return to the steering at the stern. Along the side of the barge, halfway back, he saw two men climbing over the railing from a small boat. One jumped onto the walkway between the railing and the tarped cargo and drew a shortsword. He shouted and rushed toward Granthurg.
The giant’s instinct was to defend himself, so he hefted the handle of his hammer between his two hands and used it to block the initial slashes of the sword. His attacker was significantly shorter than Granthurg, by at least a head and a half, and wearing a dark cloak. Behind him, another one stood, in an attacking posture, but unable to reach around past his cohort.
Granthurg continued blocking, and began pressing forward. He shifted his left hand, near the head of the hammer, then, after a block, lunged forward and used his leverage to swing the massive hammer in a side sweeping counter-attack. The boarder saw it coming and jumped back, but lost his footing on the rain-soaked deck and fell back.
As he rolled over and struggled to stand, Granthurg raised the hammer up above his shoulder and swung down, narrowly missing the wriggling man’s legs and cracking the planks of the deck.
Both men scrambled toward the stern, slipping on the wood.
Granthurg suddenly realized his friend and boss was there, sleeping. “RINKMORR!” he shouted, hoping he could wake him before the river pirates got to him. He lunged forward, taking huge strides, and threw himself at the men. His hammer clattered to the deck as he wrapped his bulky arms around the nearest man’s torso. They collapsed with a crash, and the impact of Granthurg’s huge body swayed the boat back and forth.
“RINKMORR!” He called again, “GET UP! GET UP!”
<<<>>>
This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing.
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