Brothers at Play

The smell of Troll blood always made Palen sick, and the heavy air in the cave made the effect even more intolerable. Leaning over the still trembling beast, he noticed something odd. Bralen was already searching the crates at the other end of the cave; he wasn't interested in anything but treasure these days.

"Come take a look at this," Palen yelled straining to see his brother in the torch light.

"Leave me alone when I'm looting," came the terse retort.

"Come here you greedy piece of Lycanthrope excrement," Palen shouted. Knowing his brother had no idea what he'd just been called, he grinned.

Bralen crossed the cave and knelt down. He was bigger than his twin brother; some might call him a giant.

"Look at that," Palen whispered and pointed to the violin shaped birthmark on the creature's forehead.

"Hey, that's the second such mark I've seen. That nasty thing in the corner has one also," Bralen whispered back. "We need to be careful baby brother, something's amiss."

"I swear, I think that's the most important three and a half minutes of your life...big brother. The two laughed as they turned their attention to the crates.

They both shared the same thought; was it here? The front two boxes contained a few gold pieces and something that resembled a glass writing pen.

"Well, we made something, even if it's not here," Palen said, taking a nervous glance over his shoulder.

Finally, tucked deep in the last crate, buried under a small leather book, they found it.

As Bralen pulled the scarf from the crate he said, "Why in the world would someone pay to get this back?"

"Sneeze into it; maybe it's magic," Palen said. And they both erupted in laughter.

"Maybe you're magic?"

They dropped it and ran.