The air hung heavy, swirling with scents both familiar and new, as if one was walking through the dreams of a being yet to be born. I breathed in deeply as I strode forward, the road was one I had walked hundreds of times before, yet each step felt like my first. Kelp like trees grew thick and tall, reaching up into the endless dark sky and swayed in the wind as if buffeted by the water’s current, the sky itself was a deep purple, strange thunder like flashes broke across it in random intervals, though no crash nor rain followed it, instead it cast blackness with the same ease real thunder brought light. The ground was an orange-red, spotty with patches of navy blue grass that grew up from the soil. The landscape was foreign to me, but I had felt no confusion or discontent- like I was walking back to a place I never left. As I crested a yet another hill when I heard it: music, singing and dancing, the roar of the campfire heralding cooking meat, the smell flooded my mind with these feelings of nostalgia, sniffing at the air, found a trail, further down the path, and so I set off, my feet hit the earth as I drove myself forward, faster and faster. The trees sped past me, yet I still felt like I was moving too slowly. I can’t explain why, but I just needed to get there. Before long I saw it, the glow of a fire in a small clearing, the warm amber light was blinding, I could nearly hear the call of the shadows dancing at the mouth of the glade, I was almost there…

----------------------------------------

I woke up. Laying on a bed of animal pelts and grass. The cold wind bit into my exposed flesh like a knife, blowing in from the mouth of my cave like the breath of a great beast. Some part of my mind wanted me to keep sleeping, to curl up and just rest. However, the pangs of hunger that racked my body were far more persuasive, so, I threw off the bear pelt I used as a blanket, allowing the cold to wash over me and get it over with, a low growl escaped my lips. 

I stood up, looking around as if I had expected something to have changed, yet it was just as I had left it. The loose pile of pelts and plants was just behind me, still warm from my rest, what used to be a campfire smoldered a few steps away, and my collection of bones sat next to my bed, otherwise, it was my cave, the only thing that made it mine is the fact that I was here and that no animal on this mountain is stupid enough to come and try to take it… except small-folk, who, despite their size, seem to think they stand a chance. They never learn, though. Even the wolves stopped testing me after their first mistake. but I digress.

Mostly on instinct I gathered up my club. What had once been a large log now served as my weapon of choice. Along with this, I seized my clothing, the pelts that just acted as my bed which now acted as my protection from the elements, using the sinew from my last kill to affix it to my body. Then, with my hunger growing, I set out into the wild in search of a meal.

It was the cold time, as I set down the mountain I was nearly blinded by the white that stretched on all around me, covering the land like fur covers the bear, only broken up by the pine trees that shot from the ground, the wind deafined me to all sound and brought the white into my face, the little crystals bit into my skin as I walked. I had mixed options on this time, to be honest. The white made tracking prey much easier since they left such obvious tracks and the blood stood out against the ground, however, animals were a lot harder to find, most of them have left by now, leaving only smaller pickings for me, unless I was going to try my hand at fighting a bear or dire wolf, but we had an agreement, not a verbal one but one that stood strong none the less: you don’t bother me, I don’t bother you. 

The first cold was my hardest, I spent the entire time hidden in my cave, sleeping it off, however, by this cold, I had learned of a nice trick. Moving into the treeline, I saw my target; a well worn path that weaved through the mountain, most of the time stayed away from it, the small-folk used it with their rolling tree-things and hornless deer. They were more trouble than they were worth to eat with their flying sticks and stabbing rocks. But, this time of year it was different, other animals in the forest, usually the more aggressive ones, were desperate and stupidly attacked the small-folk. Usually the animals died and the small-folk left them behind, free eating. When the animals won, well, that was more annoying, the animals didn’t leave anything behind, so if I wanted any I needed to fight the animal, but even then, the animal would be injured, so it’s easy meat either way. Back to the task at hand, I dusted off a tree stump and sat down, now, I waited… as much as I hated waiting.

----------------------------------------

The sun was growing dim by the time I heard something up ahead on the path, fighting. The sounds of an animal, dire wolf by the smell, and the clashing of small-folk. I stood up, shaking off the snow that had accumulated on me before stalking closer, letting my nose to the seeing while I closed the distance. This was a smaller group. It seemed, maybe five or six, would explain why the wolf wasn’t dead yet, however, that was still odd to me, smaller groups don’t take this path, especially not this time of year, the beasts get all angry and aggressive when they haven’t eaten in a while, me included.

I sniffed the air again, I could smell a hairy one, smelled like rotten fruit and blood, there were a few plain ones, they all smell the same, and a pointy eared, and that one excited me, they always tasted the best even if they were a bit stringy. I heard the fighting stop long before the treeline parted enough for me to get a good look at the group, confirming my nose, a hairy one, a pointy eared, and two plain ones, one living one dead. Beside them sat their rolling-tree thing, before it a dire wolf laid slumped over dead in the snow, the red mixing with the white. I grumbled, I had been hoping at least the pointy ear would have died, but I stopped, I could see them cutting up the dire wolf, I knew what that meant by the settlement nearby: they wanted to keep it. Of course, I had not wanted to kill them, too much energy, however I needed the food and I didn’t come all this way for nothing.

----------------------------------------

It was over, we won. I slumped back against the front wheel of the cart, my staff fell across my lap as I looked to my allies, the battle was rough, and yet we prevailed, though not without loss.

Grevich, a dwarf, built like a barrel and armored like a warhorse, every inch of his skin was hidden under metal and dark hair, once again drawing the comparison to the horse. Currently he was hard at work butchering the dire wolf, its fur would sell well, or so he said anyway, personally I only had interest in its bone.

Then I turned to Maxie, a human, her skin was dark as olive oil and her hair the color of a field of grain, armored in thick leathers and fur and wielding a shortsword and kiteshield, she was doing far worse, Tess, her twin sister, was crushed by the wolf’s jaw, killed instantly. Maxie was just kneeling over her sister, weeping heavily, her tears and snot froze on her face as she wailed.

Personally, I had escaped physically untouched, one of the perks of being a backliners I suppose, however I was drained, while I did have mana, calling upon anything more stressful than a cantrip could and would kill me. I allowed myself to catch my breath, standing up and stumbling over to Maxie. There was an air of awkwardness that clogged my throat, I needed to ask this, she had been in the frontlines, however I obviously knew how she would respond.

“Uh, Maxie, are you doing ok?” I asked, eliciting a glare from the human, her anger just barely able to let her choke back her tears.

“This is your fault!” she yelled, clambering to her feet, her stance was shaky, clearly putting as little pressure on her left foot as she could manage.

“Everyone told us that it was suicide to come up the Trollridge during the winter! That the monsters would be starving but noooooo you just had to take us up to this hellhole and because of you Tess is… is…” she choked back her tears, whipping away the ice and snot from her nose as best she could, her face would be red with anger if the cold wasn’t busy robbing her flesh of its color. A certain feeling of guilt sat heavy in my chest, like a lump of stone. It wasn’t as if I had killed Tess, none of my spells found her flesh, and it could be argued that as our scout, it was her job to spot the wolf before it struck. But those arguments felt like poison even just considering them. It had been my choice to come up here, our cargo or client couldn’t wait for the month it would take to go around the mountain, I thought we could handle it, evidently, I had been wrong, it wasn’t the wolf that killed Tess, it was my choices.

“Maxie… I…” I began, but the words died in my mouth the moment I heard Grevich speak.

“Oi! We got company! Another biggen at that!” he bellowed, stumbling away from the body as fast as his stumpy legs could carry him. Stepping through the treeline, brushing branches from its face, was a troll, I had no doubt about that.

I knew a good deal about trolls, my mother used to tell me stories of the great brutes descending from the mountain to steal away little elves who didn’t wash behind their ears or help their parents in the fields, however seeing one in person was a new horror all together, a boogie man given flesh.

It’s skin was an ugly mix of brown and gray, the patchy pelt covering it’s towering frame, it’s arms were long and gangly, reaching down past it’s knees with little issue, each hand ending in five fingers, dull claws, like those on a dog, were clear to see, and its right hand clutched a monstrous club, not so much a weapon as a heap of dead wood. And then there was its face, it’s nose was crushed in and wide, each breath cast great clouds of warm air to the wind, it’s nose slits were almost as large as its eyes, which were a muddy green and burned with a beasteal hunger, and its mouth was by far the largest part of its face, stretching to each pointed ear, a pair of crooked tusks broke free from it. It stood as tall as a small tree and seemed twice as firm, its figure was starved and wiry, yet despite its underfed form, it clearly brimmed with great power, coiled away and ready to be released like a bow’s string. And this nightmare stared at us with that look of hunger in its eyes.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

We stepped back, all of us, as the creature studied us, an animalistic cunning tempering its bloodlust. Grevich leaned over to me.

“So, elf, any ideas?” he spoke, his harsh voice straining to only whisper. Ok, come on Seas, think, trolls, what do you remember about trolls?

“They heal as fast as wildfire spreads, mundane weapons are useless against it.” I began, Grevich cast his gaze to his weapon, his tension radiating from his armor, the news that he couldn’t do anything against the monster clearly didn’t inspire confidence.

“However magic can eat through their defense, you two keep it tied down and I think I can take it out.” I finished.

“Are you in any shape to be flinging spells?” Maxie asked, her anger at me lessening slightly, I suppose the idea of losing yet another ally today was stronger than her grief.

“No, but if I don’t then the only shape I’ll be in is ‘in pieces’.” I responded. Grevich looked up from his weapon and then to the two of us.

“Maxie. You go around the side, I’ll charge it head on.” he ordered with a grim tone, like a man walking to the gallows.

“If I die here, it was be an honor to battle alongside you two.” Those were the last words exchanged as he let out a yell of rage, the small metal shape barreling towards the monster with all the speed his stubby legs could muster, the troll roared, the trees around us shaking from the bass as it met Grevich’s charge in turn. Maxie was the next to set off, even injured her lighter armor and longer limbs made her infinitely speedier than the dwarf, moving to the left of the beast, for my part I began the physically taxing process of drawing upon my dwindling well of power. The battle had started.

Grevich’s axe came screaming forward, sinking into the beast’s left leg like a great tree of flesh, striking bone with a sickening crack, the monster roared and reared up with it’s club, bringing it down with the force befitting a beast of it’s stature, however it crashed into only air as the dwarf threw himself from the weapon’s arch, losing his ax but saving his life. The club came up once more, however a stone flung by the sling of Maxie hit true, nailing it in its right eye, blood flowed free from the monster's socket, running like a river of crimson down its ugly face. Its hand shot up to stem the gushing of its veins.  As much as this battle seemed to be in our cort I could see the axe fall from its perch in his leg, the wound patching itself together, muscle and sinew knitting together under some horrific force.

It roared once more, this time it's clawed hand reached down for Grevich, lifting him as a man lifted a child, throwing the warrior across the field of battle, I had to duck to avoid the metal clad meteor. He coughed up blood before speaking.

“Elf! Any time now! I’m not sure how much longer we can hold out against this demon!” he yelled, getting to his feet with all the dignity of a beached whale, soon rushing to join the fray once more.

I took a deep breath, feeling for the well of power within me. I almost had it, I just needed to reach a bit further. Meanwhile, the battle was turning sour, the troll did not tire, if anything the wounds it gathered only added fuel to the fire of its rage. I saw Grevich dove for his axe, but as the club climbed to the heavens, I knew he was already dead. The tree came down hard, blood and gore poured from every gap in his armor, the snow quickly turned red from his lifefluid. And with that, he joined his ancestors.

“Grevich!” I heard Maxie scream, another stone went flying from her sling, though it seemed the gods were no longer watching our battle, the projectile hit its center of mass rather than anything vital. Still, the creature grunted before reaching down, grabbing a large boulder. Time slowed, I knew what happened next, even if I didn’t want to admit it. But gravity did all the talking for me, the great stone slammed through her, turning my friend into a smear on the ground. The land shook with the impact, quickly the area became silent as the grave, any animals that were in the area were stunned silent.

It was just me and the troll. Just the troll and me. Hero and monster. Its eyes fell upon me, and I saw its hunger flare. The creature took in a large breath, snorting loudly as before it let out another roar as it began its approach, its long strides covering the ground between us with worrying speed, but by this point, my anger aided me in drawing up my last bit of mana.

I screamed, the arcane power boiled and thrashed within me like a stampede, I held it for a heartbeat before letting it loose, a flurry of magical bolts lept free from my body, the missiles dug into his body and shot through the other end. It roared once more, however, I missed anything vital. Pitty. This is how I died. The creature finally got into melee range, and as the club fell towards me, all I could think of was my party members. Grevich, Maxie, Tess, I’ll see you soon.

----------------------------------------

I couldn’t see what was going on outside my cage within the cart, only screaming and the drawing of steel could reach me through the wood of the walls, oh and the roaring. That sound which shook the earth and knocked items from their shelves, for once I was thankful for the iron bird cage they kept me in, for otherwise I would be crushed by a falling crate or two.

“Ok El.” I thought out loud.

“From the sounds of it, they are fighting something else, one of them is bound to die, and when they do, I can offer their friend back in exchange for my freedom, easy!” I thought aloud, though I had known the odds weren’t great. 

I had been captured, you see, after a little stunt involving replacing some barron’s daughter with a changeling. It’s not like I wanted to do it! I have a boss to god damn it. But it’s not like I can give that argument in court, no, this was it unless I can convince the idiots tasked with transporting me to let me out. I was shaken from my thoughts when I heard the tell tale sign of magic being cast, followed by the tell tale sign of a mage’s spine being compressed. They lost and heard no one drawing breath out there… oh no. That was bad, that ment I was trapped here until some bandit or something came along, and even then there was little to no chance they would actually release me. I was trapped.

“God damn it!” I yelled, though my voice hitched when I heard something, a creature snorted, sniffing the air as the crunching of snow told me it grew closer. This was it, my death, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

I pulled the stone from my eye, my ability to see quickly returning as the organ grew back, and with a thud I sat next to the body of the pointy eared, looking over the damage as the white around me swiftly turned red. The cut from the hairy thing and the rock from the plain thing were really no concern, I had suffered similar wounds before, none of them took too long to heal up, even as I studied them the cuts from the hairy thing were stitching back together. However, there were a bunch of new wounds, two cut into my stomach, one through my leg, and one through my shoulder, and all of them were slow to heal and weeping blood. That was bad, however they would seal up eventually, all I needed to do was keep well fed and let my healing do its job. On that note, I seized an arm from the pointy eared thing and tore it from its socket with a pop, bringing it to my mouth and biting through the flesh and bone, feeling it crack under the strength of my teeth. The flavor danced on my tongue and melted in my mouth, sweet and savory, nothing compared to pointy ear meat. 

Though I enjoyed my meal, a squeaking sound caught my attention. It was weird, not like a bird or a squirrel but not unlike either as well, it was small and melodic, like the strange sounds that the small-folks made with their wooden thing. If it was another small folk, I needed to kill them, it really wasn’t a debate, more food either way. I sniffed the air, the cold air stinging my scinesses as I took in what I needed to know: the noise was coming from the rolling tree thing. The scent was sweet, sickly sweet, like honey mixed with smoke. It was odd, I cannot say I ever quite smelled something like it in all my years around here, though at the same time it was weirdly familiar, poking at that fuzzy place between dreams and memories. I shook my head, and with a groan I stood up and walked over the rolling tree thing.

The back of the thing was square and firm, a pair of great flat pieces stood between me and the inside. I had seen the small things open these before, I mentally walked through the steps, grabbing the stone bit, turning it, and pulling. Small things are bad at making things, I know this because as soon as I tried to open their rolling tree thing the right way, the entire part broke off. Inside, many tree cubes sat about, attached with thin bits of plantlife and that shiny stone that the small folk use everywhere, though what I found more interesting was the scent, that strange smell hit me, emanating from a little shiny thing, and more specifically, the thing inside.

----------------------------------------

I couldn’t move, partially because the bird cage I was in didn’t allow for much freedom, and partly from terror. From between the bars, I saw a towering creature, a sinew, blood covered monster, thankfully clothed in what could be loosely described as a toga, though if that’s a toga then a potato sack is a dress. The creature sniffed at the air, looking throughout the cart before it’s eyes drifted to me, spiking my heart rate as it focused.

With clawed hand seized the cage roughly, nearly jostling me from the safety of my perch to the burning iron around me. The cage moved until I was eye to eye with the monster, it’s warm breath slammed into me in waves, smelling of iron and rot. I was dead, I knew I was dead, however some part of me willed me to speak, I held no illusion that this beast could understand me, but I had to try something, and it’s all I could do. So, with much effort I swallowed the lump in my throat and began to speak.

“Uh, he-” I began, though I was interrupted as in a flash the great beast’s maw clamped onto my cage, deforming the metal as it tried to bit though, all the while perfuming me with spit and half chewed flesh til a thin film of saliva covered me.

“Oi! Stop! Stop it!” I roared in fear, white knuckles hands dug into the perch I sat on for all I could. From my vantage point near it’s great maw, I heard it gag as it’s tongue met metal. It reared back, covering it’s mouth with one hand as if it was attempting to not lose it’s last rotting meal. Despite my terror, I chuckled slightly.

“Don’t like the taste of metal big guy?” I asked, eliciting a glare from the creature, as if it understood me. Confusion hit us both, my eyes went wide and the monster tilted it’s head like a dog, our eyes met for a long moment, before courage found me again.

“Ok… ok? Can you put me down?” I tried, my voice revealing my fear. The monster just watched me for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity, before he set the cage down clumsily on the floor of the cart. With a crash, it fell onto it’s ass, slouching forward to bring us eye level once.

“Ok. Uh. Do you have a name?” I asked, not having much else to say. Eventually, it spoke, it’s voice growling and deep, though it spoke with a slur, like it was unfamiliar with the words it spat, though to my surprise, it spoke in Bright-tongue, clumsily, but still, it spoke.

“Troll.” was all it said “I troll.”