[centre][colour=darkgray][h1]The Troll Wars[/h1] [h2]Part 1 - The First Raid[/h2][/colour] [/centre] [hr] The World Anchor, the unrivalled mountains carrying the very sky of the planet - its hundred peaks and thousand crags - all would indicate that it was far from a hospitable place to live. However, its distance from everything was also perhaps something that make it attractive as a home - nothing would really come for you, now would it? This is perhaps what made it so appealing to the largest of trollkin, the dovregubbes. Theirs was an unmatched resilience and resistance to all manner of damage and unrivaled strength among all mortal kind; theirs was a lifespan that could compete even with immortal gods; and theirs were forms menacing enough to ward off any and all thinking themselves mighty enough to test the former two truths. Of course, all these were only truths given that the dovregubbe didn’t kick the bucket first thing in the morning. Thusly lived their kin - or, as it would be more appropriate to say - that specimen. Indeed, for there was only one - a single dovregubbe in the whole world. The ranglefants, draugs, drighinas and askeladds - oh, they’d already found themselves mates and spawned plenty more of their sort. Not the dovregubbe, though - no, he still had a good few centuries left until all the muck, rock, moss and stone covering his enormous form could shed off and pretty much just make another dovregubbe then and there. Oh, yes - a good few centuries. Such a legendary creature as him - oh, well - they deserved a name, they did. At least, the dovregubbe thought so himself. He was still fairly young, though, and his mind was much untested in the ways of conundrumming and thinka-dinklin’. So far, he had only really found himself a suitably large cave to call home and, well, called it home. He didn’t really know much about whether it was day or night out - checking to see was a bit of a risk. However, a mighty need bubbled within his belly, and the dovregubbe knew well that he would have to brave the wilderness soon enough. He was hungry. It wasn’t peckishness, either - he had been feeling this deep, thunderous rumble for a few days. In the beginning, it’d been easy to just bury it under greater thoughts, like whether he should sit and wait or lay down to sleep. However, as time had passed, he could ignore it no longer. He would need feed soon, or he would be both the first and the last of his kind. He had given stone a try yesterday (or possibly yesteryesterday), but found that it sat poorly with his empty gut. Alas, even stone-like trolls couldn’t live off of stone. Worst part was, all the plants and wildlife around here? Poor on nutrients and immensely hard to digest. The trees were tough as nails - and that wasn’t even mentioning those stone birds. The dovregubbe had tried to snatch one the other night, but they’d just flock up and peck at him senselessly until he ran away. They weren’t even worth close to the trouble. No, he knew what was waiting for him would have to be in the lowlands below - but could he even get there without being noticed by Gibbou? Oh yes, the dovregubbe remembered something vague about a divine purpose and protecting life and all that - but! Had the blueberry ever been hungry, huh? The dovregubbe thought not. Wasn’t easy for a goddess to put herself in his… Okay, he didn’t have shoes, but walking a mile with his feet… Well, that actually wasn’t much of a feat either, him being nearly twelve metres tall already. At least, though, she wasn’t mortal - and that was the big difference! Oh, sure, the dovregubbe could live forever, too, but he’d have to watch his skin at every turn! Can’t even walk out during the bloody day - he’d turn to stone in the blink of an eye. Of course, all that had to be stacked on top of the fact that the earth was trembling so badly these days that he feared he’d be sealed in by a falling rock someday. No, being him sure wasn’t easy. Therefore, he could permit himself, no, he deserve to snap a few mortal necks every now and then! Oh yes, oh yes, he had smelled ‘em even from the mountains - the unmistakable stink of human sweat, blood and droppings, all around the southern tip of that odd little grassland with the cute little hills. Oh, for certain, had he smelled them - even now, he did. His teeth were drowning in saliva. For the first time in days, or possibly weeks, the dovregubbe moved to peek at the cave entrance. Blast, the sun was still out. He would have to wait a few more hours. Then, at sundown, oh, at sundown… The dovregubbe closed its stoney lids and began snoring. [hr] The dovregubbe was making solid time - wasn’t even midnight yet and he could already see the end of the woods. The trees parted before him like tall grass, and at his feet, stock and stone crumbled to dust under soles the size of huts. He could smell it so clearly now - the meat and roots cooking over the fire, the age of the sticks used in their lay-tos, the days that had passed since the villagers’ bathing day. At this point, he was salivating so immensely it caused a minor rainfall on the vegetation below. Though, a slight movement on the wind did convey a certain important detail: It smelled as though the humans all had gathered in unison. He had probably been spotted - he needed to be quick. [hr] “Are you absolutely sure?” asked chief Teskal to the ragged-breathed hunter Kefir. Kefir nodded, something that sent panic through the gathered villagers like ripples in a still lake. “I saw not the torso, even! Kefir confirmed. “It was the tallest man any of us have ever seen - so tall that we’re not even sure it’s a man!” “Shush!” thundered the voice of an elderly lady and both Kefir and chief Teskal bowed down. It was great-mother Grot, and her expression was every bit as stern in the night as it was in the day. “Shush, both of you! What if this is another visitation from the gods? Can we forget what the great Cadien has done for our people? What news from the north have brought us about the kind, noble deeds of Oraelia? Or Neiya? What if this is a test from the gods? No, shame on you both! Shame!” The villagers all hung their heads somewhat. After a moment of thinking, Teskal raised his skull-tipped stick and declared, “Very well! We shall welcome this creature into our village and show the gods that we do not shun our divine duties!” The villagers all nodded and voiced their agreement, though few of them were very enthusiastic about it. They began gathering what offerings they had and placed them in baskets in the centre of the village, standing faithfully in wait behind them to behold the approaching creature. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the colossal mass that resembled a man in every aspect, but could never be defined as such, stomped out of the forest with footsteps that sent tremors through the ground, testing the craftsmanship of the humans’ lay-tos. It gave the air a long, long sniff, bordering on a snort, and knelt down to inspect the increasingly terrified villagers. It then eyed the food, visible confusion on its face. “What’s all this, then?” The great-mother approached, her arms lifted up into the air and head bowed down. “Oh, magnificent son of the gods! We accept your visit in the humblest manner.” The villagers behind her also lifted their arms in the same manner. “Please,” Grot continued, “have your fill of our bounty - we know it’s not much, but it’s all we have.” The dovregubbe blinked. “My, grub’s all laid out for me, innit?” He clapped his hands together with a force that sent a resounding shockwave through the air. “Think I’ll start off with… You.” The sudden realisation that one is so dreadfully wrong about a situation is difficult to swallow, especially for someone as stubborn and stern as great-mother Grot, who was in the process of being swallowed. It took fairly little time for the terror that already brewed in the villagers to explode into full-fledged panic, and soon they scattered to the winds. However, the dovregubbe was reinvigorated now. Albeit the old crone had been a gummy mess, she had a flavour unlike anything he had ever chewed on before. Oh yes, now this was a flavour to die for. He rose up and began chasing down the fleeing humans, a small feat for a creature whose legs were as long as five humans stacked onto each others’ shoulders. His every stomp like the claps of a storm, it sent instinctive confusion through every escapee about whether they should run for cover or run for the hills. He managed to snatch most of them like they were ants on a line - when panicking, it seemed that humans only really knew how to run, and not necessarily run smartly. By an hour past midnight, he had eaten his proper fill, and what a fill it had been. Joyously, the dovregubbe rumbled on back towards the mountains, thundering a merry guffaw that sent the resting birds flying. [hr] “Did, did we lose it?” asked Vintr quietly. Kefir held his daughter tightly to his chest and looked around the corner of the rock they were hiding behind. The great shadow in the distance faded, and as did the thunder of its steps. He looked down at the exhausted face of his child. She was asleep, finally - oh, what a terrible reality she would wake up to. He prayed for now that she could dream of it as just that - a dream. “Yeah,” Kefir whispered and laid his head against the stone. Sobs choked him up and he clasped his hand over his eyes. Vintr tried at first to console him, but shortly thereafter joined him. They just sat there for a time, sharing in each others’ misery. There was comfort in sharing the burden, but that was the only comfort there was now. “Wha’.. What do we do now?” Vintr sobbed quietly. Kefir sniffed and swallowed. He had some ideas, but none of them would be easy - especially not if they encountered that creature again. “We will travel north. There’s a village there - a safe place, I’ve heard. We will seek refuge with them and share our story so that they may be prepared.” “What will we tell them?” “We will say it like it is - the village of chief Teskal was obliterated in the night… By Thunder.” [hider=SummaREEEEE!] The dovregubbe, the first and only of its kind, is feeling peckish. Life for a troll such as himself ain’t easy, so he reckons he had snap a few mortal necks as compensation for living such a dangerous life. He strolls to the southern tip of the Boreal Highlands, where he finds a tiny human village on the forest border. The humans mistakenly believe the troll to be a messenger of the gods and prepare a feast for it. The dovregubbe sees this as an absolute win and, since all the villagers are gathered, starts digging in. He eats everyone in the whole tribe save for three, Kefir, his daughter, Kaia, and Vintr. These three start moving towards Ataket’s tribe to tell the tale of the Scourge of the Boreal Highlands, Thunder. [/hider]