The other was a frost giant, more specifically a 22-foot brute of a giant that looked strong enough to take on a white dragon with his bare hands and win. He wore the typical garment from a neanderthal, cured mammoth hide, which was thick and protective yet not as restrictive as the metal armor other races wore, and was armed with a mammoth tusk club, a stone axe and a bow, the arrows of the bow depleted. This neanderthal in particular was Grug Spearson, large even for a neanderthal at a height of seven and a half feet and a weight of nearly five hundred pounds, with black eyes and a pitch black hair, beard included. One was a neanderthal man, a member of a subspecies of humans that evolved after several thousand years of living on the frozen north: hairier, taller and more thickly built than his southern relatives, with long arms, a barrel chest and a lest pronounced chin, all topped with more prominent eyebrows. It was two beings fighting for their lives.
The cool night on the arctic reaches of Sodal had its silence broken by a roar of pain and a shout of anger.
