The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix Part Three

Gurg Forimir

Just that morning the Gurg of the colony of Giants that lived in the midst of the range of the Seven Sisters and along the north west border of Northern Ireland had been holding council. A man with strong appearance had come and gifted the Gurg with a beautiful golden sword, embedded with a great big jewels the size of his own giant fingernails and etched with blessings written in the runes of his great ancestors, the Giantes of Olde. The legendary sword had been missing from his family since the Giant Wars of the late 1590s, when the wizards of Béal Feirste cut off the giants' access to the old causeway. This sword had been captured from the Gurg, along with his head, and carried away.

Now, hundreds of years later, the sword was being presented back to the current Gurg of Glenveagh, whose name was Forimir, by the delegation of Death Eaters, sent forth by the Dark Lord, Voldemort.

"I return this sword to you now, Gurg, as a sign of promises that the Dark Lord swears to the giants," Rosier said, standing before the Gurg, unarmed and alone, his companions in the delegation they represented were all at least a hundred paces back. "It rightfully belongs to the giants - and there are many more giant treasures buried beneath the ground in Gringott's bank - held by goblins, mind, great enemies of the giants - and, with your colony's support of our cause, we can return them to you..."

The Gurg rubbed his long, copper colored beard and considered the man standing before him.

"Long have witches and wizards deemed themselves of higher esteem than the giants, despite your age-old roots that date back at least equally - and perhaps even further - than our own..." the man bowed in a self deprecating manner. 

"They have our treasures, you say?" Forimir grumbled.

The Death Eaters that had come as a delegation on behalf of the Dark Lord were not prepared for the Gurg lashing out. Instead of simply agreeing to support Voldemort in the war, the Gurg stood up. "Bring my armor!"

"Your armor, sir?" Evan asked, looking up.

"If the wizards hold our treasure, hold our lives in contempt, then so shall we! Respect of the boundaries shall be ended!"

Evan looked back at the others in the delegation,

It wasn't the result they wanted - riling the giants into immediate action. They'd meant to set them to simmering anger, not boiling over, and the Dark Lord would be displeased - the giants of Glenveah were important assets in his plans in the coming months, but not now - not when the Death Eaters were unprepared for the fight. It would be a waste of power this early in the game.

"Your most Gurg-ness," Evan attempted to rein things in, "With all due respect, sir, the wizards far out number the giants currently - marching into battle today would hardly result in a fair and even fight and the giants would fall and never receive back the treasure that is rightfully theirs. If you wait, just wait and swear allegiance to the plans of the Dark Lord, he'll soon be ready to make the move on the Ministry and your help in that endeavor --"

"Help?" Gurg Forimir asked, voice booming so loud it seemed to shake the very sky. He laughed mirthlessly. "Do you speak as though the giants need wizards in order to achieve their goals of taking the wizarding town, little one? Do you think your tiny Lord is up for the challenge of going against our might?" And the Gurg stood up for the first time and Evan Rosier trembled at the sheer size of the giant. It was clear instantly why Forimir was the Gurg, for he easily cleared the tops of trees. "Giants do not need the help of wizards! We needed only the reason - and the evidence - to take back what is ours by right!" He lifted the golden, jewel-encrusted sword, "Which your Dark Lord has so freely given to us."

And two other giants were helping to attach the breastplate onto the Gurg's chest, and they brought him guards for his shins and a heavy belt with a shield to protect the loin. He lifted up an impossibly large weapon that was like a boulder tightly bound to the end of a stripped tree trunk - a sort of hammer.