Secrets from the storyteller
EshSecret: A Slakin’ Sad Story
As told by the Great Storyteller, Peyton Plindy
This Story takes place in those terrible days when war was common and Woodsy Trolls needed to be a cautious Folk. These were hard, dangerous times when you never really felt safe and there were few you could trust.
In these dark times, there was one village whose Woodsy Trolls were even more cautious than most. The name of the village was Hoyland and its villagers had reason to be fearful. For, Hoyland lay in a land that had seen too many battles and too many deaths. The land was called Esh’s Finger and it was a skinny, inhospitable place covered with scrubby forests and low, rocky hills. On one side of this sorry triangle of land were forests controlled by Faeries. Lands on another side were under the control of Rock-Goblins, who were no friends of Woodsy Trolls. And the final side of the triangle faced cruel, barren hill-lands.
So, you can see why the Woodsy Trolls of Hoyland were extra cautious.
To protect themselves against attacks from all sides, they erected a great wall around their village. And outside the wall, they set up ten guard posts that completely encircled their village, with five of them situated on the tops of nearby hills and five in tall trees at the edge of the forests. At each of these ten guard posts, three guards stood their watch every night, alert and ready to warn at the first hint of trouble.
At the time of our Story, there was a wise and prudent Regent living in Hoyland. His name was Jells McJells. McJells was an experienced soldier who had fought in many battles during the long, bitter struggles of the Fourth-Time War. During his many years of soldiering, McJells had made the acquaintance of another battle-proven warrior, a Human named Davies Block.
Jells McJells and Davies Block fought many battles together, standing side-by-side and, over time, they grew to be fast friends. Eventually, when the War was drawing to an end and soldiers were finally beginning to go home, Jells McJells thought about his own return home and, when he did, he grew scared. For, many of the bravest men of McJells’ village had been killed in the war and there were very few, stout Woodsy Trolls left alive to defend Hoyland, should the need ever arise.
Being a wise Woodsy Troll, Jells McJells took matters into his own hands. He went to Davies Block and persuaded him and several other warriors, Human and Woodsy Troll, to return with him to Hoyland, promising them food and land if they would serve in the defense of Hoyland. Among the Woodsy Trolls who joined Jells McJells and Davies Block was a young soldier named Glissweld Glewe, a lad stout-hearted and handy enough in a fight, though he had a bit of a reputation for being too talkative and none too bright.
Now, getting to the part of our Story that matters, we turn to one particular night around nine Moon-years after the end of the Fourth-Time War. By this time, Davies Block had impressed everyone with his intelligence, energy, and devotion to duty and he was now captain of the guards. That evening, as he always did, Davies Block emerged through the village gate for the start of his watch exactly at sunset. The minute he was beyond the shadows of the wall, however, he began feeling ominous quivers in his stomach and, like all soldiers who had seen their fair share of battles, Davies Block trusted his gut when it was saying to him, as it did tonight:
Danger! Terrible danger!
Nervous and unsettled, Davies Block hurried to the guard camp where his thirty guards were getting themselves ready for their long night’s watch. Stepping into their midst, Davies Block didn’t waste time with small talk.
“Tonight of all nights, lads, let’s stay alert,” he said to his guards. “I have a bad feelin’ that somethin’ is afoot, so I expect ya to keep ya’s eyes open and ya’s minds clear and alert. No sleepin’ on ya’s watches. Not even for a moment! I want ya sharp and on ya’s posts at all times!”
“We shall do it!” all his lads assured him as they moved to their guardposts.
That night, because of the terrible quivers in his stomach, Davies Block made more rounds than usual. It was particularly worrisome to him that each the ten guard posts was so far from the next one that he could not see one from the other. No, Davies Block had not felt this unsettled in a long time. Something was out there and threatening them, he sensed.
“Though I know not its shape,” Davies Block frequently muttered as he made his rounds, “it is death that moves about tonight, of that I am sure.”
Much later, in the darkest hours of the watch, Davies Block decided to visit the watch-hill that faced Faerie lands. Glissweld Glewe was in charge of this particular guard post, a fact not exactly comforting to Davies Block. The only way up this hill was by a long, steep, narrow path that wound its way through a tangle of old Worm-Aspen trees. As Davies Block climbed the heavily wooded trail, he could make out very little of what was in front of him, or behind him, or to either side of him, so deep and dark were the shadows cast by the trees. In his blindness, Davies Block climbed slowly, picking his way carefully step-by-small-step up the treacherous, rocky path.
At last, he reached the hilltop and, as he came over the crest, what he saw shocked and dismayed him.
For, far in the distance, a great Bearded-Oak was ablaze. Beside the flaming tree was another Bearded-Oak and in this tree stood a Woody Troll-boy half-turned in the Mutanh way, with roots from his ankles clutching the branches on which he was perched, holding him in place. The boy was circling his branchlike arms in great, sweeping arcs, signaling a warning. As Davies Block gazed at the Mutanh in shocked surprise, he saw that there were arrows raining on the lad, who was only alive because his skin had turned sufficiently to Mutanh bark to keep the hundreds of arrows buried in him from wounding him mortally.
It was obvious from the size of the blaze on the poor Bearded-Oak that the tree had been burning brightly for a long time. The great number of arrows in the boy’s skin told a similar tale of a warning long signaled.
For one brief second, Davies Block felt horror and despair and then his soldierly instincts took hold. Wheeling briskly, he was about to start down the path, intending to return to Hoyland to sound a warning, when there was sudden movement to his right. Reacting, Davies Block turned his head and what he saw disgusted him, for there was young Glissweld Glewe leading his two comrades up a tiny side path.
The three of them were laughing and joking as they sauntered lazily back to their post.
“What are ya doin’?” cried Davies Block, his disgust turning to rage.
There was such a fierce anger in the Human’s voice that Glissweld Glewe froze in mid-step and his face blanched.
“We … we … we were thirsty,” stuttered the Troll-lad feebly. “We needed to slake our thirsts.”
“Slake ya’s thirsts?” an enraged Davies Block screamed. “Slake ya’s thirsts! Slakin’ Glissweld, ya’s thirst has cost us our lives!”