Bahram remembered amber ales and mutton pies with affection.

He remembered musicians playing in the corner of the Two-Headed Goat inn, hairy-armed women winking to him as their partners looked the other way. Some even dared to sit at his table, making him feel like a mere mortal, for a fleeting moment, as he smiled back with teeth too sharp, making them retreat.

Brutes and rogues challenging each other to a fight. Never challenging him, though, an unconscious warning flashing in their heads, telling them he was not to be defied.

The shepherd had been something different.

Had it been the drink that made him act this way or his own stupidity?

Bahram had been lost for words for the first time as the shepherd all but fell in his lap and said.

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"Oh, you're much softer than you look."

He snarled. He flexed his thick muscles, willing himself to be rock again.

He thought that would send the shepherd scrambling to his feet.

Instead, the man leaned in with a blush.

"I bet I can make you..."

PUNCH

The shepherd didn't finish his sentence. Without meaning to, the mountain god had punched him square in the face.

The ground started to shake. Ale splashed on the ground from falling pints.

Bahram looked at the shepherd, out cold on the inn dirty floor.

From behind, he heard a voice.

"Oi, big man, you want to fight?"

Ah. A man with a crooked nose and a handful of teeth had risen to the challenge.

The mountain god turned as a low rumble started to be heard, deep from within the valley.

"Do you?" asked Bahram.

Roof tiles started to fall. Folks were shouting, jumping to hide under the tables.

Bahram's shadow was growing bigger and bigger so that the whole inn was filled with it.

Soon the whole valley fell into darkness.