As Granthurg was carrying a crate across his back, walking up the pier, his eye caught sight of a young girl on the wharf. She stood out, partly because she was dressed in a light-colored, finely-made cloak, which you don’t see too often on the RiverFront, but also because he couldn’t quite pin down her racial features. She looked elvish, but she was thinner, and her face was more angular than most elves he had seen here and in the forests. Her pointed ears stood out more. She walked with a step that was pleasant, almost haughty, and she was looking around as if she’d never seen a wharf or a waterfront before.
I know! She’s a high elf! He’d only seen drawings of them in his scrolls, but once he made the connection, the facial features made him certain.
He leaned forward and shifted his load across his back.
When he got to the quay, he dropped his load near Rinkmorr, and glanced around. He couldn’t see her. He shrugged it off and went back for another crate.
Back at the barge, he stretched his muscular shoulders and scanned the quay and the street again. She must’ve gone into a shop. I wonder what she was doing down here by the river. I’ve never seen a high elf here in Twynne Rivers, much less in this part of town.
His thoughts were interrupted by shouts from the street. He turned and looked and saw people scattering away from the girl, with her back to the river, staring down three full-grown human men. Oh, she’s in trouble!
Granthurg reached to grab his hammer, and jumped off the barge onto the pier. His leap rocked the barge, so his footing slipped him to one knee on the pier. He jumped up and ran with thundering feet up the pier.
Rinkmorr saw him coming with the hammer in his hand and determination on his face. “Now, stop, there, Granthurg! What are you doing?”
Granthurg swung past Rinkmorr and ran up the street. He saw one of the men lunge at the girl and grab her at the waist, pinning her arms to her side. Another one stepped forward with a dagger. “Get her pouch!” The man said.
Granthurg was on a full run at the moment, and had no time to slow down. He swung his hammer in front of him, but missed as the man dodged. Granthurg’s momentum, however, carried him right over the stunned man, who crumbled under the weight of the Giant.
Granturg rolled off of him, as one of the others leapt onto his shoulders and tried to stab at him. Granthurg blocked the man’s hands, then grabbed his cloak and used it to throw the man off of him, over his shoulder. He sat up, and looked for the girl. He saw her tangled in the assailant’s arms. Then he saw her fade and dissappear, and in a rush, reappear a few feet away, free from the man’s grasp.
Granturg felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.
Not again! He swung his hammer around him, turning his shoulders and knocking the attacker to the street. The man struggled to gain his footing on the wet cobblestone as Granthurg stood and brought the hammer down in an arc above his head. The thief's eyes grew large and he rolled to one side as the hammer smacked into the stone below where his head was. A loud clang resounded and sparks chipped off the rock.
Granthurg looked up and saw the girl thrust an open palm at the one near her. A ball of light lept from her hand and exploded in brightness on the man’s chest, sending him sprawling over the edge of the wharf and down into the murky water.
The other two thieves scrambled away.
Granthurg and the girl stood, staring at each other. She was defensive, not sure what to make of the Giant. Gradually, she eased and looked around her. The people on the street were looking at her with a mix of awe and fear. As she looked at them, they averted their own faces and scurried away. She turned her face to the street, as if she were suddenly very self-conscious.
Granthurg took a deep breath and smiled. “I’ve never met a high elf before.”
She looked up with her own smile. “And I’ve never met a giant!”
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