TotW 257: Troll - TIEBREAKER
TotW 257: Troll
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Submission 1 From the top of the mountain side Gareth looked down upon the hooman city in all its glory - it's persistent light radiating out, fighting against the encroaching darkness. He let out a deep sigh, wishing he could be down there amongst the lights, amongst the people! "Why do they view us as monsters, Big Toe? Why can't we live together in peace?"
Big Toe was an older troll, his sizeable claws giving away his age, but they had become fast friends in the colony that had inhabited this particular mountain side, even since Gareth and his parents had moved from Trollville to a more rural home. Big Toe looked up from the whole chicken he was chewing on, wiping his mouth clean with his wrist before scratching his chin thoughtfully, "Because Pinkie, the hoomans hunt us for these," he said gesturing to his claws, using his affectionate name for Gareth. "We tried living with the hoomans but they kept wanting more so we had to defend ourselves."
"But those wars were so long ago, surely now we could try again? I mean look at those lights!" came the Gareth's excited response.
Big Toe paused to look down upon the city, "Looks like stars too me Pinkie, we have a better view from this mountainside." He shook is head sadly, "You're too young to understand, Thumb over there was held captive by the hoomans for a long long time, if he hadn't managed to break free with Ring Fing and Little Piggie they would have taken him for his claws, he's the only survivor from those wars left now but still remembers it clear as day." He pointed over to Thumb, a once large Troll bent crooked with age, with long grey whiskers drooping down either side of his contorted face. "Plus, we have nice chicken here," and with that Big Toe tucked back into his dinner.
Gareth let out a sigh, these conversations always ended the same - but he was determined when he was an adult Troll he would go and visit the hoomans and discover how they make light stay during the night.
Submission 2
And thus arose the great lion of Iskat
From the precipice upon which he sat.
Its claws clinging to ancient stone.
Its jaws eager to part meat from bone.
The monster roared, loud as thunder.
The hero looked on in fear and wonder.
Brave Uruzar warning did receive,
But he could see the silver captive.
A swan, shining like the sun in the sea
Struck by the beast on wing and knee.
Uruzar saw divinity in its silver light.
Surely it was heavenly bright.
His heart did then decide to defy
The beast that could roar courage dry.
For Uruzar shielded the weak
And he had to save a being so meek.
The lion saw that Uruzar was resolute
And wondered how much courage it took
To challenge the great terror of Iskat
Without flinching or losing his heart.
The adversaries did measure each other,
The bringer of chaos and the champion of order.
The swan looked on in doubt and pain,
Certain the noble attempt would be in vain.
The beast of Iskat over Uruzar did fly,
The hero’s spear thrusting in reply.
Piercing only air with its sharp tip,
Dodging the tail, that cracked like a whip.
He lifted the shield above his head
To block fearsome claws eager to shred.
The lion circled around his feet
And every blow did the shield meet.
Uruzar needed to find the one chance
To put an end to this deadly dance.
As the beast wouldn’t soon tire,
Its heart raging like a blinding pyre.
Fury made the terror’s strength great
Perhaps it could as easily seal its fate.
For terrible anger, if not contained
Is prey to those who keep it restrained.
Uruzar had only to wait and defend
Until the lion itself gave way to its end.
As the claws fell down on the shield,
He prayed to the gods and did not yield.
Soon its attention did momently slip
And Uruzar buried the spear deep.
He stabbed the core of the lion of Iskat,
Piercing though the monster’s heart.
The agonizing creature howled in pain.
Bathing in blood, blind and insane.
It quickly fell down over its own weight
For its own fury did its might break.
The swan waved its wings in vain,
Its body broken and trembling in pain.
But it was safe from the lion of Iskat
Whose fierce chest got torn apart.
Uruzar for the bird’s misfortune did weep
And admiring its light he did sorely sit.
He could not be ready for the surprise
That soon took place before his eyes.
For he was right when he deemed divine
The way the swan did in silver shine.
As before him arose in beauty and grace
The holy Edali, with gratitude in her face.
With great joy the hero then realised
That the silver swan was the goddess disguised.
Edali gave him her daughter’s hand for the feat,
As the monstrous lion laid dead in defeat.
Submission 3 Beneath the hills north of the village lived a friendly old troll named Humharumph. During the long winter nights the elders in the city would tell tales from their own childhoods, of when the kindly old troll would stroll down the hills and visit upon the humans at the same time as the first flowers grew in the ditches around the village. Then he would play with the children as the parents worked, and when fall came he would help the farmers bring in the harvest with his monstrous strength. For he was no monster; everybody loved Humharumph the helpful troll.
But one spring when Humharumph came down to the settlement, all he could find was blood and fire. He screamed in agony, as he recognized the charred bodies piled outside the biggest hut in the village. He had seen every one of those souls grow up, only to end this way! But soon he ceased his cry, when he heard a lighter voice crying with him. A small girl had escaped, and told him her tale.
A nearby baron had sent soldiers to tax the village for protection against the evil old troll living in the hills, and when the farmers protested and claimed the troll was their friend, they burnt and pillaged the heathen peasants along with their homes. But not all the people had been killed; many had been taken captive back to the baron’s castle, and it did not take Humharumph any convincing to try saving his friends.
He came to the fortress under cover of darkness, carrying a massive tree he had found in the forest. Ready to start battering the doors he unleashed a terrifying growl, dark and loud enough to make the walls of the castle tremble. Then he started battering the tree against the gates with such force that they shattered before him. The soldiers on guard barely had time to scream before his raging claws caught them, but he made sure not to hurt anyone who threw their weapons.
The baron looked down at the tumult from his balcony and screamed “What do you want, wicked old troll?!”
The troll looked back up with a burning in his eyes and said “I am here for my friends, who you enslaved, whose homes you burnt and whose children you would break beneath your heels.”
The baron had little choice but to release the villagers he had captured, and return them to their homes with enough tools and supplies to rebuild many times what he had destroyed. But Humharumph was never the same. For a time he would visit the village as he used to, but the memory of the horror never left his eyes. One spring he never came at all, and the friendly old troll became but a memory of the children he saved. But the village was never attacked again, because everyone knew; the village of Humharumph was protected.
Break it!
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Originally Posted by Alwyn
