The scene at Fort Bone was a lively one, with the baby trolls and mini faeries playing together in pure joy. In a sunlit clearing near the gate, the faeries zipped through the air, their laughter mixing with the giggles of the trolls who clumsily tried to follow them. Their shaggy fur tufts rustled as the faeries darted past, and with every squeal of excitement, the trolls reached out with chubby hands, trying to catch the fluttering creatures.
When they managed to touch a faerie, the tiny creature would burst into a fit of sparkling laughter and dart away, prompting the trolls to chase them with even greater enthusiasm.
In a game of tag, the faeries would dart between trees and rocks, with the trolls lumbering after them. Despite their size and awkward movements, the trolls were surprisingly agile, their playful roars mingling with the high-pitched laughter of the faeries.
“Come here faeries!”
“We’re gonna catch you!”
Occasionally, the faeries would help the trolls with their coordination, guiding them gently through the games and teaching them how to interact. The baby trolls would try to mimic the faeries’ graceful movements, resulting in a charming mix of stumbling steps and joyous flailing.
Atlas watched from a distance, feeling a sense of pride and relief. The playful interaction between the trolls and faeries was not only a source of joy but also a promising sign that the two species were beginning to bond.
It was a perfect day, full of innocence and play.
But the peaceful scene was interrupted when a grizzled adventurer, greedy thoughts in his mind, spotted the baby trolls. His scarred face twisted with malice as he unsheathed his sword. “Those trolls could fetch a pretty penny,” he muttered, stepping forward with menacing intent.
The mini faeries, sensing the threat, buzzed in a flurry of panic, trying to protect the trolls. One darted in front of the nearest troll with a glowing shield, while another flew as fast as its wings would take it to Atlas.
Atlas, seeing the danger, sprinted across the fort, his swords drawn. He roared, “Stay the fuck away from them!” His voice echoed across the fort, and the adventurer paused, unsure. But when Atlas swung his sword, the sheer menace of it sent the adventurer stumbling back.
The baby trolls huddled together, their wide eyes full of fear. “Daddy help us!” one cried.
The mini faeries hovered above them, their tiny bodies glowing with fierce determination. Their eyes glowed red as they prepared to defend their new friends.
Atlas slammed his sword into the ground near the adventurer’s feet, dust and gravel spraying into the air. “These aren’t wild trolls!” he shouted. “Leave, now!”
Realizing he was outmatched, the adventurer cursed under his breath, his face twisted in frustration. He retreated, grumbling as he disappeared into the distance.
Atlas knelt beside the trolls, his fierce expression softening as he reassured them, “It’s alright.” The mini faeries settled around the trolls, their tiny forms vibrating with relief. The trolls, still shaking from the fear, clung to Atlas.
But Atlas knew this was only the beginning. These trolls were now a target, and he would have to protect them.
He gathered the baby trolls into his arms, stood up and marched to the loudspeaker system at Fort Bone, his voice booming as he addressed the fort. “People of Fort Bone, citizens, visitors,” his tone commanding all to listen, “we have two new members of our Fort Bone family. Two little baby trolls are running around, and I want to make it clear: if anyone messes with them, you’ll be kicked out. And if we don’t find you, the mini faeries will. Trust me, you won’t like what they do to you.”
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The message rang through the fort, and every visitor and citizen exchanged uneasy glances, knowing that messing with the trolls would have serious consequences.
Afterward, Atlas went to the vending machine areas, looking for supplies to care for his new charges. He found the ‘‘Paws & Claws‘‘ vending machine, selling everything he needed—but it wasn’t cheap.
The machine offered ‘Raising Trolls for Dummies‘ for 2 coins, with a snarky tagline: “Want to raise your own little man-eating trolls? Here’s a guide. PS, you’re a dummy.”
It also sold troll kibble for 5 coins a bag: “Raising trolls ain’t cheap, buster. Each bag feeds a growing troll for a month. Recommended age 3-12. Don’t think this is expensive? Wait till you see teenage troll feeding costs.”
What caught Atlas’s eye, though, were the Pet Clothes (3 coins each). “Awwwwww, so cute! Turn your pets into mascots with our adorable costumes! Choose from sailor, police, or genocidal warlord!”
Atlas couldn’t resist. He selected the genocidal warlord costume, which came with a fake fur tunic, a tiny Viking helmet, and little fur leggings. For an extra coin, he had ‘Portal Crushers‘ printed on the back of the tunic. And even though he kind of hated it, he made the colour palette of the outfit, Red Fairy Red.
‘Red fairy red. Not pink!’
The outfits now matched his own. ‘Perhaps this would help prevent people from thinking these were wild trolls,’ he thought.
The machine scanned the baby trolls and custom-fitted their new outfits, just like the ‘‘Forge-o-Nator‘‘ did with armor. But before he would dress them, he knew there was one last thing to do.
Stinky trolls wouldn’t be good for morale, so a bath was in order.
The smell of unwashed baby trolls was far from pleasant. Atlas had experienced bad odors before: durian, which reminded him of stinky feet, stinky tofu in China and unwashed Earth’s Children, who also shared that unfortunate aroma. But the baby trolls? They somehow smelled worse than stinky feet, which, in Atlas's opinion, was a hard feat to top.
"Off to the bath we go," Atlas commanded.
The two cute trolls waddled over, catching the attention of the bath attendant.
"Oh, who are these cutie—" she started, but backed up quickly after the smell hit her. The scent of old blood still clung to the trolls.
"I think we're gonna need to really hose these guys down," Atlas said to the attendant, and she hurriedly threw him three tokens for the bathhouse.
Atlas led the trolls to the bathhouse and first showered them down with a couple of buckets of water.
"We don’t wanna be washed! This is cold!" they whined.
"Okay, first layer of dirt washed off," Atlas said, scrubbing them down. "Next, we need to soak you like a pan of burnt eggs."
Carefully, he guided the trolls into the first pool. Deciding to join them, Atlas eased himself into the water. The pool was cold, but not overly so. Most of the dirt and blood was gone by now, and finally, they could all relax.
Then it was time for the best part. They all walked into the third pool. Well, Atlas walked, the two baby trolls jumped in with big cannon balls.
SPLASH!
The warm bath, mixed with the scent of vanilla and sandalwood, was a refreshing contrast to the earlier filth.
“Whee!” The baby trolls splashed water at each other.
"This is definitely worth the coins I paid," Atlas thought, feeling the bonus of his latest endeavor paying off.
After the bath, the three of them dressed in their respective outfits. Atlas couldn’t help but marvel at how adorable the trolls were. Their green, mottled skin stood out against the bright pink genocidal warlord outfit.
"How do we look, Daddy? So cute?" one of the trolls asked.
"We are cute! We are cute!" the other chimed in.
"Yes, you are," Atlas chuckled. "I really need to come up with names for you two. Any ideas?"
The first troll scratched his head. "I don’t know."
The second one, more excited, said, "Help us, Daddy!"
Atlas sighed. "If this were a Chinese web novel, I’d call you Little Black and Little Whitey. You're lucky this isn't one." He smiled, "Alright, what's a good troll name?"
He glanced around for inspiration but couldn’t think of any. The baby trolls were kind of hairy, short and ate a lot. "Bilbo and Frodo?" he mused aloud. But that wouldn’t work—people would be constantly pointing out they were trolls, not hobbits. He was already getting enough flack for his pink armor.
"Smash and Grab?" That almost worked. "Mash and Gravy?" He shook his head. Coming up with troll names was definitely harder than expected.
Looking around at the fort’s citizens, an idea popped into his head, and he giggled to himself. "Okay, you," he pointed to the first troll, "are Portilla." She was a girl.
"And you," he pointed to the second, "are Crushir." This was the boy troll.
"I'm Portilla!" said the first troll.
"I'm Crushir!" the second troll shouted excitedly.
"And together, you’re Portilla Crushir!" Atlas laughed, hoping they wouldn’t mind the joke when they grew up.