CHAPTER FOUR- A Vengeful Return

CHAPTER FOUR
A VENGEFUL RETURN

Year 1667 Month 05 Week 06 Day 03
Today I found myself stationed outside the cave. The forest trolls were much smaller than I remember which I took to mean I was much larger. I was naked like the rest of them, armed with a wooden club. My side ached, examining it revealed a large mostly healed scar. As it happened my hands and feet were rugged. Beyond that, my arms and legs were thicker, with a layer of muscle under a thin layer of baby fat. My grey skin also seemed several shades darker than I remember. After acclimating to my changed physique, I regarded my company. A pair of brain-dead little trolls, looking artlessly out at the lush woods before them, completely unsuspecting of my betrayal, I Two whole years had passed and I had spent that time a mindless puppet just like them, there was no reason to be suspicious of me. I raised my club above my head, taking the moment to admire how the light of the sun seemed to pierce the thick wall of leafs just to meet my eyes. Then, I brought it down on the little trolls head, he dropped, the second foe launched himself at me. I swatted him away, as he hit the ground I caught his leg under my foot and raised my club above my head only to bludgeon his.

Once done, I scooped up some mud and, grimaced at the prospects of what I was about to do. Once done I gathered my resolve and shoved the mud into my ears until I was sure I couldn’t hear a thing.

With that dealt with I stood unopposed at the entrance of the cave. I took a second to steady my thoughts. Then I recalled the dream as the bear. I recalled the king of the forest. I, Robert was gone, the bear stood alone at the entrance of the cave. It roared a greeting that rang through the cave; the sound bounced and ricocheted off of the hard stone walls. Then the bear was gone and Robert returned, I must have had an awfully smug look on my face. I entered the dark damp cave.

At first I was met with a pack of forest trolls, twelve in all, they weren’t under Me's' spell anymore. So they were fighting out of desperation, they must have seen me as a terrible foe. But they were weak and far less organised than my first encounter with the green men. They all ran forward at once, yet ultimately getting in each other's way; lashing out at one caused him to fall onto others who in turn would trip over the rest. It was like watching a row of dominoes. With two blows twelve trolls were destined for a hard reunion with the ground. I left the tumbling mess as I clambered deeper into the cave, seeing my prowess and mercy; the other trolls let me pass and escaped after I did so.

Me had retreated into the darkest depths of the cave, here; lay all the treasures of the forest trolls. Including several human women, who sat in their torn rags with eyes that begged for death? One, the youngest had a pregnant swollen belly. It was truly despicable what these trolls would do to people. Me threatened them with her knife to keep quiet, not that I could hear, oblivious to the fact that I was just around the corner.

Allow me to explain; all magic requires an initiation, knowing it, makes avoiding and undoing a spell much easier. For Me’s enchantments, the initiation was her voice -sound. As Me was self-taught in the ways of magic she lacked variety and her spell wasn’t properly protected from disruptions; therefore the raw force of the great bears magic roar was enough to undo it. Naturally Me, as a self-taught sorceress, didn’t know of her own weakness adding a reason to worry over my own, magic defying, feat when I first encountered the forest trolls two years ago. Hence why she was so keen to enslave me and why she avoided using other trolls until I was safely enslaved. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the only time she had acted directly.

This brings us to this final confrontation. I stepped around the corner and sprinted towards my target. Me, surprised at my appearance looked back with a rather terrified look on her face then readied herself in a heartbeat. She raised her knife to meet my gut as I charged forward. But I pulled my club forward from behind my shoulder and struck her arms, causing her to drop the knife, the little bitch wasn’t killing me now. Not after taking two years from me. Hurt she looked up and rushed a small muffled speech but I continued my assault, only to meet the newly strengthened body of Me. She met my club with a hand and held it in her grip above her head. With her free hand she struck me in the stomach, the blow winded me entirely and I dropped to my knees as air escaped my mouth in the form of a squeal. Seeing this strength I released the club. She attempted to retreat from the melee to get her bearings and saviour my defeat, but I wouldn’t allow it. I took up the discarded knife and stabbed her foot, wrenching the blade free as she screamed and stabbing her again in the side. Blood gushed from her limp body as she fell to the ground, kicking me in rage on the way down, yet the attack lacked the strength she previously had and I received the blow undeterred. I stood tall over the tiny troll. Then I remembered the trolls’ slaves. I studied the broken women who watched me intently. It was only right to free them. They took up my club and Me’s' knife and like a pack of angry wolves they tore her to bloody pieces. We then hurried up into the forest and they bid me farewell; I had wanted to help them, but I could see their reluctance around me, it must not have been easy to be saved by the very creatures that tormented them for so long. So they left wordlessly, wearing fur pelts and armed with sharpened sticks they stumbled off into the unforgiving forest. Satisfied with my good deed I took another trip down into the cave and took whatever supplies I could salvage, thankfully I was able to find a suitable weapon under all of the random junk. One such piece of junk was a steel spear, too big for any of the forest trolls to use, in honesty it was too big for me to use, but I may grow into it, so I kept it.

Once I was done I headed up hill. Traversing the forest was easier than I remembered; I suppose my body had grown accustomed to it. I made impressive time, jogging through the woods, stepping over the odd root and skipping past the occasional animal. I took care to grab large sticks and vines. Using the vines to tie them to my back for the moment, the added load quickly slowed me down. Regardless my journey was rather uneventful and the terrain gradually got steeper making it all that much harder.

Eventually I reached a point at the mountain where all the trees stopped. I bent down low as I continued my assent, grunting with each step. This was the domain of the mountain trolls and I was not going to die because one of them happened to spot me. Supposedly they were a subspecies of troll known for being solitary hulking beasts; I would not stand a chance against them. At this point it was already quite dark, but as luck would have it I found shelter in an old wooden cottage. The house was abandoned while being surrounded by all sides with a purple flower. I recognised them immediately, those same flowers could be found around our old cottage, and mother had used them to deter ‘unwelcome’ guests.

The smell had secretly caused me great irritation, but like everything else I seemed to get used to it. I stepped into the empty cottage and lay my head down drifting into sleep almost instantly. It had been a long day.

Year 1667 Month 05 Week 06 Day 04
My dreams wondered oddly, between my mother and the slaves from that cave. I awoke having made the obvious connection. I didn’t let the tears flow. She didn’t, Mother was strong. In my mind I had resisted the signs; I had assumed that a union between a Troll and a Human could be civil.

“Did I do this?” I asked, sniffing deeply as the tears threatened to trickle down. I couldn’t breathe, the guilt choked me.

Cosmo’s reflection answered. “Female Trolls are a rarity, so males capture females from other races to breed. There is no helping it, it is nature's way.” was this really its attempts at comforting me. In the recesses of my mind, while everything else was in distress, it would give me a lesson on biology. The flood gates broke down; I crawled into a ball and wept.

By midday my tears ran dry. I stood up and left the old cottage. I jogged around the mountain side, lugging the sticks and vines behind me. This time hoping, praying, a mountain troll would happen upon me. I would kill them all if I could only find them. Then the sound of rushing water caught my ear. Under further investigation I had found the river. In the mountain range that separated the forests from the deserts of the wasteland there were several streams (most of which being too insignificant to show on a map) which all converged in the forest before flowing out into the ocean, the village was less than an hour’s walk from the coast so, should I follow the river, I would find the coast and in turn, the village. This would be how I make it out of the forest. From there I should be able to find some kind of clue as to where these bandits went. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but a plan nonetheless.

I cut up the vines into several lengths and then used the lengths to hold the sticks in eight separate bundles. I placed each of the bundles beside each other and used the two longest remaining pieces of vines to hold together my makeshift raft. I placed the raft onto the river and pressed my weight onto it. After I was satisfied it could hold me I clambered upon it and sat down. I had a single long stick remaining, which I used as an oar, and one thick coil of vines which fastened my steel spear to my back. Strapped to my sides were two fur pouches, one containing water while the other, bigger, pouch contained the remains of the rations I had found in the cave. Happy that it was stable, I pushed off the side of the river and allowed my raft be taken by the current. If I was fortunate, this raft should hold until tomorrow, which just may be long enough to take me most of the way to the shore.

It won’t be long until I return to the village, find some kind of clue or trail and follow it straight to those bandit bastards. Anger would be my only solace.