Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2219973-The-Legend-of-Grippa
by Paul
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2219973
It’s not been touched for 110 years.
It’s stood there for 100 seasons. No one touches it. The legend says no other will ever be strong enough to pick it up. It also says Grippa will punish whoever dares touch it. It sits where he put it down to die.

The legends say Grippa was a huge man, six hands taller and four wider than any and defended the Slee clan for 35 seasons before the Kelks attacked. During the battle one stroke from Grippas hammer took down a man and over 100 were stacked around him before the final pike thrust took him and it’s said there were twenty before. The few remaining Kelks ran.

Old Toot, the Sooth Sayer says Grippa died 110 seasons ago. After the final pike he sat in the middle of the road, the dead stacked high around him, sat the hammer to his right and died. His body was prepared gently then burned and returned to the sky, but no one touched the hammer. The road curved to go around it.

I’m seventeen seasons now, three hands taller and two wider than anyone else, stronger than any other man. It’s said Grippa wore no hat so I didn’t. Fear gripped me, sweat breaking out standing over it, waiting to be struck down, then reaching and gripping the thick wood handle. Several onlookers gasped, more gathered and a loud moan went up when I stood with it and took practice swings, learning to control the heavy metal head.

With one swing I shattered a sapling trunk two hands thick. What it must have done to the 100 stacked around Grippa. A heavy cheer rang out, “Grippa Has Returned,” when I held it aloft and turned for everyone to see.

We’ll see what it does to the Feloff clan when it attacks.
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