[Quitti]

Having travelled west for the better part of fall, and seeing the winter approaching fast, said the Gode of a small tribe of Jotun;
"Boys. Men. Fellow giants. Westward lies mountains, our sacred home. We must cleanse the small people standing in the way."
Having so said, he and his fellow woodsmen moved along the river and out of the forest. Having left the comfort of the woods in hope of a colder mountainland, they arrived to the hills preceding the great mountain ravine. There stood a man, clad in black steel, holding a great blue tower shield. Murmurs spread through the ranks of the small humans when they saw the giants who approached.

Suddenly, the man with the shield noticed the giants. He started screaming obscenities and shouting some gibberish about strange cyclops to the south, who was the rightful owner of the world.

The Gode did not much care of such little words, for he knew the superiority of Ar'Kanak, Lord of the Hunt, over any puny cyclops. When the giants did not seem very friendly, they would have gladly left the little men alone, but like it usually is, the humans did not see reason in coexisting and proceeded to charge the giants.

Drawing the power of The Lord of the Hunt, the giants proceeded in slaying every single of the petty humans who dared to attack them. The man with the blue shield commanded fire to fall from the skies upon the giants. "What is this trickery?" - one of the woodsmen shouted, being almost incinerated by the strange power. Swinging their greataxes in wide sweeps, dismembering and sending small humans flying with each hit, they finally approached at the small man who still kept on shouting obscenities at them, even though the fight was clearly over.

The woodsmen surrounded the little man, who still did not see reason. Ar'Kanak was clearly favoring the giants this day, and the cyclops the small man so reverendly spoke of did not seem to answer his prayers. When the Gode made his way to the man of black steel, a new fervor arose within the small man. He tried striking the Gode, but the Gode was faster. The Prophet of the Cyclops was slain in one hit, almost split to half from the Godes longsword.

"What shall we do now?" the woodsmen asked. The Gode did not answer, for he was mourning the dead fellows of his, two trustworthy jotun who fell that day.

Finally, the Jotun Gode spoke.
"Let there be a monument here. We shall build this land anew, without the strange powers of the human. They cannot be trusted. Let them live in their swamps, for we do not care about such places. The Skratti might, and we will obey should they say us to conquer them, but it is not a proper place for a giant to live. We shall proceed west to the mountains we came here for. Ar'Kanaks will shall be fulfilled."