The celebration had been far more enjoyable than expected. Zul'Var was right about Fel's timidity. He was self-conscious, and had never quite been able to loosen up or assert himself around the members of his tribe. This had earned him the nickname "ifwim," after the little color-changing lizards that darted form one hiding place to the next. He was generally accepted by the tribe, and held most of them in high regard, but was always conscious of an inner distance and found gatherings uncomfortable.

…and now he was to be the center of attention at a feast. He, and no doubt others in the tribe, expected some painfully awkward moments, but they didn't come to pass.

The feast began with a ceremonial blessing by Zul'Var, who invoked the spirits of the Loa and gave Fel the traditional wineskin of Tzaki, an alcoholic drink brewed from mashed roots. Wineskins were commonly used by trolls, even at the table. Troll tusks varied considerably, and while the tusks of women were typically small curly cues, the men's tusks could range from little thumb lengths projections to forearmed length monstrosities. This often made the use of tankards or mugs impractical, hence the wineskins.

Fel's tusks were about the length of his hand. . They extended straight out at a 45 degree angle from each other, curving ever so slightly upward and inward toward their tips. Had he the opportunity, he might be able to use a shot glass without difficulty, but he definitely preferred wineskins.

With the encouragement of the tribe, he was able to drain this particular wineskin in more or less one go.

Then the boar was brought out, or at least some of it was. The size of the boar had necessitated unusual cooking methods, but the tribe's cooks had been up to the task, and the meat was particularly good. The trolls ate with enthusiasm and gusto. Drinking and laughing boisterously, they sang songs of a particularly trollish nature: songs celebrating the cunning and viciousness of ancient heroes, songs celebrating the adventures and misadventures of the Loa, and even a song or two mocking the constant infighting of the various trollish tribes.

Under normal circumstances Fel would have found an excuse to help with the sentry duty on the edge of the villiage. On this night, however, his voice could clearly be heard by the sentries. He couldn't explain it, but he felt… Buffed. Relaxed and confident, his tongue did not trip, and the distance that normally separated him from the tribe was gone. He was almost certain the ceremonial drink Zul'Var gave him contained more than Tzaki, but given how he had been enjoying himself, he wasn't going to waste his time thinking about it.

The only tense moment came on the night came when the crowd began to call for Fel to tell of his hunt. This was customary, and its impending approach should have eviscerated any capacity to enjoy the feast, but Fel had been caught in the spirit of the singing and celebration. Now that the time had arrived, he should have been petrified, but he felt suspiciously calm, and was ready to speak.

As he rose, however, Zul'Var shouted out, "No!" He stood up and called, "Fel has shown his mettle, and is obviously prepared to speak!" The crowd acknowledged this cautiously. "But we all know our Fel! He will say five words about the battle and spend the rest of the time telling us about tripping over some obarea roots when he first saw the boar's tracks." The crowd laughed and shouted its agreement. "This tale warrants a good telling… So I'm doing it!" The crowd exploded.

Fel was among those cheering, and was grinning ear to ear as he sat back down. Zul'Var was a skilled story teller, even among witch doctors, and Fel was looking forward the story.

Zul'Var did not disappoint. Standing in front of the bonfire, he described how Fel had arrived on the island. He scampered around on his hands and knees in a very exaggerated fashion as he described how Fel had immediately begun investigating his new home, and when he came to the point where Fel "met" Devil Pig, Zul'Var ran and leapt into the arms of Conn, who had just gotten up for his third helping of boar.

All the while, he described the thoughts of Fel, though in this regard, he was obviously making it up as he went along.

"What the $*#!& was that sadistic $*%&# thinking?"

"When I get back, Zalazane's head is going to have company!"

"Mommmmyyyyy!!!!!!!!"

Finally he came to the trap's construction. To illustrate this, he drafted six headhunters and positioned them where the primary trees would be, facing them inward. He then had seven-year old Vin, one of Fel's cousins, play the role of Fel.

Following Zul'Var's instruction, the child took spears and placed them in the hands or under the arms of the stationary trolls. When they had been laden with as many spears as they could hold, the witch doctor had Vin sit in front of the "trap" and squatted down beside him as he continued the story.

"Finally, after days of sitting and waiting, 'Devil Pig' finally lumbered by." The doc gestured for Conn to assume the roll of the pig. Conn looked at the witch doctor, eyed the slab of boar meat in his hand and, rolling his eyes, he stood up to walk the path indicated.

"Pah!" Shouted Zul'Var "When was the last time you saw a pig amble?! Lumber, Conn, Lumber!" Conn sighed, then "lumbered."

Zul'Var whispered something to Vin, then continued his narration, describing Fel's response to being ignored by the pig. He shouted Fel's rant, "You Fetid pile of ham hocks! Who the hell do you think you are?! Tell you who -I- think you are! YOU… ARE… BREAKFAST!" The crowd roared its approval.

At his signal, young Vin threw an egg Zul'Var had secreted to him at Conn's back. The egg splattered in all directions. Conn spun to glare at Vin, only to be smacked across the brow by a second egg. The normally good-natured (insofar as trolls go) Conn swore and charged toward Vin, who dashed into the trap. The large headhunter charged in after the boy. His pursuit ended there. The little boy easily scooted out the other side while Conn was stopped short by a spear held by one of the now grinning "trees." Backing up, he encountered the spears held by the "trees" he had charged past. Realizing his situation, he stood still and scowled. The crowd laughed in appreciation. Conn's subdued glare slowly turned to Zul'Var, then gave way to his typical good natured grin.

Zul'Var continued his narration, "Fel did not count on his trap to do his work for him! No! As the beast struggled against his trap he grabbed up his spear, ran around to its side, and stabbed the beast in the heart!

At his prompting, Vin grabbed a stick and ran around to the side. Conn, who had finally decided to get in to the spirit of the tale, had grabbed a couple of the spears and was shaking them around while growling in a boar-like fashion. This obviously unnerved Vin, but he marshaled his courage and jabbed at Conn's Chest, connecting lightly in one of his lower ribs.

"The spear did not pierce the boar, and was knocked out of Fel's hand. So he grabbed his second spear, and stabbed again."

Vin shrugged, and jabbed again.

From the 'trap,' Conn shouted out, "Please tell me that this one struck home!"

Shifting logs in the bonfire sent a stream of orange sparks into the night sky.

"Yeesss, Conn, it did indeed strike home, and it was obvious that the blow was fatal." Zul'Var gestured to indicate that the members of the trap could put down their spears before he wrapped up his story. "As the beast was dyin, Fel faced it. He had shown it he was its master and made sure the pig knew it."

"Fel has proven that he is skilled in the jungle ways! Now he has to learn what it means to be a troll." Zul'Var summoned Fel to his side and continued. "To do this, he will journey out tomorrow to see the world… and learn how the world sees trolls. He will know when it is right to return. When he does, he will tell me of his travels, and we will see if he is headhunter material."

"Now… Let the dancin begin!!"

The tribe roared its approval, the rhythmic music began, and the tribe danced.

As has been noted often before, the dance of the male troll has a martial flavor to it. Indeed, there is an unarmed fighting style practiced by the jungle trolls that shares many moves with the dance. Fel was proficient with the fighting style, but was less able with the dance. The back and forth of combat was comfortable to him, but he was typically too self-conscious to let go and get into the spirit of the dance.

Tonight he danced. He danced with joy and passion; laughing and whooping. He may not have been the best of dancers, but it was if the Loa were bursting forth through him, and the spirit was contagious. The tribe danced till late in the night.

Fel did not want the dancing to end, but end it did. He headed through the moonless night to his hut, marveling at the wonders of the evening. No doubt Zul'Var's ceremonial drink had something to do with it. Shame it likely wouldn't last.

A movement to his right brought him to full alert. He spun to face... Nelza, a beautiful flame-haired troll who had never paid much attention to Fel. She was among the more sought after of the young women of the tribe, and while socially isolated, Fel understood that there was something going on between her and Mag, one of the headhunters who had helped Fel get the boar off the island. She emerged from the shadows and stepped toward Fel. "Tonight you've gotten deserved honors… I would add to them." She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"What of Mag?"

Nelza smiled, "Mag is currently being entertained by Ghala. You don't need to worry of him."

"I don't worry. I like him. He's done me no wrong."

"I like him, too. I love him, in fact. Whether my father realizes it yet or not, he will offer me as a wife to Mag. And Mag will have me. But tonight I am my own person, and I wish to see how clever you really are."

"I still have no wish to deceive him."

Nelza rolled her eyes, "Ifwim! Are you really so clueless?" She sighed, then smiled again. Still holding his hand, she spoke in a soft voice, "don't assume that Mag is as clueless, and don't force him to own in the firelight what we have held to the shadows."

Were this any other night, Fel would have reflected on Nelza's words. He would have considered that before the coming of Thrall women were generally regarded as property, prizes to be acquired, shown off, and exchanged. It was not unheard of for a man to give one of his wives to a friend as a sign of esteem. Thrall's influence had raised the status of women in the tribe, so this practice was not a common occurrence, but echoes of it might still remain.

Fel would have also considered that Nelza seemed to be the instigator of this encounter. He knew she did nothing that she didn't want to do. Her personality might not have been traditional, but social upheaval shifts social norms, especially among the young, and the migration of the tribe had certainly upheaved the social.

Fel's thoughts might have followed those paths, and a few more beside, but at the time Nelza had moved in close and begun running the tip of her exquisitely feminine tusk along the inner side of one of Fel's considerably larger tusks. The space between his tusks quickly grew too small for her head to fit, and she shifted to let her neck continue the journey. As he stared at her aquamarine throat, she nicked his eyebrow. Mag (and 'Ifwim') were forgotten…

The next morning Fel stood at the edge of the village, ready to begin the second leg of his quest. A few trolls of the tribe had gotten up to see him off. His mother had hugged and kissed him, his father had slapped him on the back, and the old hag Magr had given him a slap on the head. While he wasn't entirely certain, Fel got the impression this was her version of affection.

Fel started down the road. A short way out he passed by Mag and Nelza, walking arm in arm back toward the village. Nelza gave a surreptitious wink, which eliciting a blush from Fel. This in turn elicited a laugh from Nelza, and if Mag understood the exchange, he made no comment. As he continued on, Fel realized that the magic of the previous night had run its course, and he was the same 'Ifwim' he had always been.