Every year one of the giants made the pilgrimage. This year it was the turn of Eindride.

The village came out to see him off. The ritual sacrifice to the Gods was part of the Summer Festival, an offering to ensure their safe protection for another year. Armed with only the clothes he was wearing and a walking stick, he set off across the land.

Nobody knew exactly how long the journey would take, because no one had ever returned. All that Eindride knew was he had to keep walking east until he met his fate.

After the first day the rocky mountains of home had disappeared behind him. To stop and rest was forbidden, he pressed on through the night and into the following day.

The landscape he strode across now was green and made up of rolling hills. There was little sign of life apart from the odd…