Sorry for the late update - got sick last week
Vendel often wished leading the Trollmarket was less stressful for him - it wasn't that different from herding cats, as fleshbags would say. One day there would be some dumb rumor coursing around, then there could be Blinkous Galadrigal trying to prove an existence of some unhinged conspiracy or Draal starting a fight out of the blue.
And now there was this - this chaotic state with the fleshbag Trollhunter who, to give him some credit, somehow had managed to survive so far.
Vendel groaned - he kept delaying informing other troll communities about the new champion. At first, because he simply hadn't believed in the kid's survival chances. Later - because it would be akin to poking a hornets' nest. A human child protecting the trollkind? What kind of sick joke it was?
The elder wasn't delusional. How was it possible to ignore his kind's tendency to overreact? Trolls got angry easier than humans, but they also got scared and started panicking for seemingly no reason. And mob mentality didn't help. At all.
Actually, any change of the Trollhunter often resulted in some period of disarray. Sure thing, more charismatic protectors had helped to calm it eventually, but more controversial personalities had made it way worse. However, even the entire fiasco surrounding Unkar hadn't caused that much chaos.
Even the Heartstone Trollmarket, the most open-minded troll community possible, wasn't ready for a fleshbag taking over the sacred responsibility of being Merlin's champion. Other, more conservative ones? Vendel hated even imagining the possible backlash.
At times, he wished he could still ask his family for advice. Rundel had been a well-known diplomat. Kilfred had earned the title of the one of the wisest elders around.
And Vendel… Yeah, apparently, he would have gone down the history as the one who had made too many controversial decisions.
The Trollmarket continued humming like a hive full of angry bees as the elder headed to his cave. The fallout of Draal's defeat wouldn't be something he could calm down effortlessly. Some hot heads demanded the warrior's execution despite the Trollhunter's decision to spare him. The son of Kanjigar, apparently, somehow got too many enemies among the locals, which made some sense knowing his character, but still…
Vendel could already feel some migraine building. Executing Draal was out of the question. Even banishment would be a waste. Not to mention his promise to Kanjigar to take care of his son if the worst had happened.
Yet, he was also the elder, the keeper of laws - how could he possibly play favorites? Sweeping everything under the rug, pretending nothing had happened? As if the Trollmarket would ever allow such a preferential attitude.
Perhaps Draal could go away for a while until the uproar calmed down. Vendel made a mental note to discuss it with him later. Sure thing, the troll in question was stubborn, but he couldn't be that naïve not to understand all the implications.
As for the Trollhunter attempting to question the millennia-old traditions… Vendel hated to even think about that. The foolish child somehow had managed to enrage a good chunk of the locals - trolls were never good with accepting changes to the things they were used to. He had simply alienated everyone more - and who knew what kind of consequences it could have in the future? Though he hadn't been that popular to start with, so his reputation around couldn't take a dive in any case.
No, actually, the elder was more bothered about that odd bit the fleshbag hadn't been able to finish because of Blinkous's interruption. Changelings! How could the boy learn about those? Something was definitely going on behind Vendel's back - and it didn't make him happy.
The elder silently prayed Blinkous had nothing to do with that - his previous paranoiac sprees to find supposed spies had been a total disaster and the source of turmoil for months.
Vendel already missed the times when Kanjigar had come to him to discuss potential issues and dangers. The champion of the trollkind was supposed to work with its leaders at least, yet the current one only had Blinkous and Aaarrrgghh by his side.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Vendel couldn't help admitting he had contributed to that situation himself. Maybe he should have been more open-minded and provide the Trollhunter with counsel and support, and…
The elder stopped on his track, noticing a troll rushing through the stalls. He knew that one good enough - it was Krax, a wandering vendor, who often shared news about other troll communities with him.
"Vendel, are you free to talk?" Krax started hastily and continued before the response: "Everything's crazy, I swear! I can't believe Kanjigar fell. And the current Trollhunter! A fleshbag!"
Oh, right. Because of his lifestyle, he hadn't been around when everything had happened.
"I've heard you used to drink glug with Kanjigar occasionally," Vendel sighed. "He enjoyed your company greatly…"
It had to be quite shocking to the poor fellow to discover his drinking buddy's untimely demise. Krax was known around as a friendly guy and many trolls gladly chatted with him about various stuff.
"He always told me each day could be his last one," Krax nodded forlornly. "Still hard to believe…"
"I guess news hasn't reached beyond the Heartstone Trollmarket…"
Vendel hoped his relief wasn't that obvious. Last thing he needed were angry troll leaders demanding his answers. Too many of those still had problem accepting a human wizard's amulet as the means of their protection. A fleshbag being the trollkind's champion? That spelled an incoming storm.
But if Krax, who tended to know all the latest rumors, hadn't been aware, it meant at least a temporal delay before the disaster.
"I've arrived this morning right before Draal's match," the wandering vendor shrugged. "Heard everything while heading to the Heroes' Forge…"
So, apparently, the rumors still hadn't left the Heartstone Trollmarket. Or at least, hadn't reached… Where had Krax been before again? Oh yeah, Usurna's domain, most likely - it was his favorite location or something.
"Could never imagine Draal losing though," the vendor continued, seemingly oblivious to Vendel's worries. "The best warrior around! I bet some panic will arise…"
The latter was totally uncalled. The elder frowned:
"Krax, I'll appreciate you watching your mouth and not feeding those anxieties. Draal was careless. That's all."
Somehow, Vendel couldn't help but feel annoyed. He had always believed that the wandering vendor was wise enough to keep his judgement unbiased. His last remark, though, was a legit spark to cause an explosion.
"Sorry," Krax smiled sheepishly. "Was just surprised that such a skinny fleshbag whelp managed to win against our best protector… Isn't it natural to start wondering if Draal has gotten rusty?"
Those words… Seemingly innocent, just a foolish assumption of someone who hadn't been around lately, yet…
Too poisonous. Too dangerous to allow coursing around freely.
If it had been someone else, Vendel would have assumed that had been a spy infiltrating (even if agreeing with Blinkous's conspiracy theories was unhinged!). But that was Krax - the same Krax who had been around since his birth. The elder remembered him as a whelp running around.
No, sure thing, around the Killahead Bridge Battle he hadn't been at Dwoza - but well, it had been the same for a good chunk of the current residents. Suspecting someone only because they hadn't joined Deya's allies in the banishing Gunmar? That was too low. Everyone had the right to be scared or skeptical.
"Is that whelp's name Jim Lake Jr.?"
"Yeah, Jim Lake Jr., son of… Doesn't matter," Vendel winced. He didn't like the name of that kid's mother. Sure thing, it was just a dumb coincidence, but it sounded too similar to another name. The one associated with the ultimate terror and…
Wait. Something was off. Eerily off.
Vendel had nearly missed it, focusing on unpleasant association, but since when Krax had been good with memorizing fleshbag names? If anything, he had always been one of those traditionalists who preferred to have nothing to do with human stuff.
"Oh, come on, Vendel, you'd memorize even the oddest name after hearing it a hundred times - the entire Trollmarket is buzzing about the match!" Krax laughed. "Has Blinky rubbed on you too much?"
He was right. As the leader of the troll community, Vendel should have remained wise and impartial instead of chasing any suspicious shadow. Besides, the wandering vendor had proved his allegiances many times - why would he be a spy?
It was nothing like that time with an actual spy when Draal had brought a female without a confirmed background and his word had been the only vouch.
***XXXXXXXXX
Close. Too close.
Krax couldn't believe how careless he had gotten momentarily after learning a vital piece of information.
Stricklander couldn't be the only one with an ultimate trump card forever. It was just a matter of time until someone else had learned the Trollhunter's identity. And if the leader of the Janus Order had somehow forgotten about the existence of the mole - well, it was his own mistake.
Though Krax could somehow see why Stricklander had overlooked the fact - after all, the spy rarely visited the headquarters, delivering the information through multiple contacts. Besides, he had never belonged to the current leader's party, mostly keeping with opposition.
The reason was his own ambition. It was ridiculous sometimes - Krax had been in the Order since the very beginning, yet had never managed to secure a leading position of his own, always falling behind as newer recruits had risen to power.
They said it was because of his lack of blending skills, that he was only slightly above Montgo.
What a nonsense! Lack of blending skills? And who had been keeping the eye on the entire trollkind for decades? Who had secured countless pieces of the precious information? Who had led goblins to the highly protected nursery grounds to make sure that the Janus Order had never suffered from the shortage of manpower?
And not even a single troll had ever suspected him! No, Krax's cover had been flawless. A constant need to move between different communities? Being a wandering vendor served it perfectly. Getting information? You just needed to befriend certain trolls and make sure they drank enough glug to loosen their tongues. Oh, and of course, never forgetting pushing the blame for the leak on someone else. That had been polished through countless attempts - and even the wisest trolls had fallen for it.
Though, to be honest, Krax's cover had been in danger once - that time when that accursed Nomura had managed to worm her way inside that dumbass Draal's heart, getting the closest to the amulet than anyone could even wish.
Krax would have never allowed her to succeed. And well, it had been so easy to crash her little scheme. Especially with Draal gullibly eager to prove his lover's innocence.
Well, the only downside of it had been that the son of Kanjigar seemingly couldn't stand Krax now, avoiding his company like a plague. Well, not that the spy had been too upset of that, as he had forged a bond with his father instead.
It was such a waste that all that hard work had been for nothing!
Initially, the information about Kanjigar's death had been disappointing. It meant another round of forging bonds, most likely, complicated one if the new champion was unfriendly.
Then Krax had learned that the current Trollhunter was a human and only Stricklander knew his identity.
He had been so close to giving up - until Usurna had suggested going to the Heartstone Trollmarket.
Usurna. She was definitely a devious queen with an agenda of her own. Krax often wondered if he admired or hated her more. She might have helped him too many times when it came to forging intricate schemes, but it was also nearly impossible to deny that Usurna had never treated him as equal.
After all, the Krubera queen had been the one who had pushed Krax into the Janus Order's embrace soon after the Killahead Battle. She obviously enjoyed coming out clean - even if it meant to force others into not that convenient position.
Krax frowned at the memory - he wished he could have severed that disgusting bond. But no, the devious queen would overrule any accusation he could possibly throw at her with a simple gaggletack test. A changeling's word against a testimony from one of the trollkind leaders? An answer was obvious from the very beginning - he had no chances. Usurna had simply ensured her accomplice's silence.
Whatever. If Krax managed to secure the amulet, he could have forgotten about dancing to her tune for good.
Unfortunately, getting close to the human Trollhunter was not an option. Not with accursed Blinkous Galadrigal being his mentor. The entire Trollmarket could laugh at his paranoid antics (and Krax couldn't deny he played some role in gaslighting those), but the scholar had always been surprisingly sharp.
No, the actual working plan would be a direct attack - and here the spy had hit the wall once again. He couldn't attack himself - in case of failure, he would lose everything. Trying to use Draal's frustration? As if - that dumbass was dead-set on keeping the honor, and technically he owed his life to the Trollhunter now. Perhaps convincing another local that the champion was unworthy? Not after the recent deathmatch.
Someone else would have gone straight to Gunmar's children, but Krax didn't like that option. According to rumors, both couldn't stand changelings, especially Bular.
Barverra, on the other hand, could listen to the spy, yet… Yeah, delivering the information would never be as good as bringing the amulet.
Krax needed an ally, and as much as he hated sharing the credit, it had to be someone from the Janus Order. Obviously not Stricklander - why would that one agree to an alliance when he had all the pieces himself? And clearly not Nomura - it wasn't that far-fetched to assume that she held grudges.
Wait, hadn't there been a recent back-up from the headquarters? Krax recalled Shen - as much as she was a dubious ally, she could actually be the safest bet.
***XXXXXXXXXXX
A blade slashed at an old tree, leaving another deep gash. How many of those were already marring the forest? Barverra didn't care - she was simply too irritated and needed to vent out her anger on something.
Otherwise, she could snap - and those rage fits never ended well. The daughter of Gunmar didn't want a massacre in Arcadia and even cutting down the number of changeling would be a waste. She wasn't Bular to ignore the consequences of her actions.
'Mom, how would you feel if you found out that someone you trusted lied to you?'
Jim's words kept haunting Barverra's mind, no matter what she tried to do. It was probably the first time when she had felt an ease after leaving her house. Wasn't that one her ultimate fortress, her place to forget about all the troubles?
Apparently, no. Not anymore. Not with the growing sense of guilt plaguing her mind. Not with Jim being the walking reminder of her hypocrisy.
The fearsome Herald of Doom, sure thing! Reduced to an ultimate coward when it came to facing her own child!
She had failed on so many levels. Not being able to be a good human mom, honest with her son.
And even worse as a decent troll mother! Never teaching her son self-defence? Check. Never warning about possible dangers surrounding him? Check. Stripping him of the right to learn his kind's history and culture and knowing his true nature? Check and check.
Bular, that mindless brute brother of hers, would have made a way better troll parent than her - and that told a lot.
Another slash - and the tree snapped in half.
Barverra wished she could destroy her troubles as effortlessly. Why couldn't it have been easier for her? In the perfect world, she could have taught Jim swordplay instead of unleashing her ire on hapless flora.
A fool, such a fool!
She felt cornered in the worst way possible. Each time the daughter of Gunmar had seen a potential way out, it led her into the worse situation.
Not that long ago, Barverra had a bleak hope that Jim would be open-minded and accepting. The recent talk about lies begged to differ.
Of course, whatever lie her son had told to his friend, it would have been nowhere close to the well-crafted illusion the mother kept him in.
And right now, she knew for sure that she would be delaying the truth once again. Until her brain would give her a good way to solve everything without causing Jim any pain.
Was it even possible? The skeptical part of Barverra's mind kept jeering at her naivety. She put it on mute, trying to switch to some other thought.
Yes, she had to focus. Hadn't her initial plan for tonight involved putting a stop to the quickly developing conflict between the Janus Order and wizards? If that one ever broke out, it would be impossible to keep the supernatural secret from everyone, yet alone Jim.
At least, unlike Stricklander, Shen would never dare to oppose the daughter of Gunmar. And if she tried to pull something funny, well, Barverra still hadn't calmed down entirely and a living being would work better as a punching bag. At times, even Bular's methods of relieving the stress were effective enough.
Shen obviously didn't wish to meet at the museum - it was as if she put the line between Stricklander's party and her. On the other hand, wasn't it dumb to scheme against someone when they could barge in any second?
The meeting spot was an abandoned storehouse Barverra had actually recognized -it was the one she had investigated some years ago after hearing about the Monster of Arcadia.
What an irony! Wasn't that search basically the trigger to all the current mess? If she had stayed away back then, perhaps…
No, that would change nothing. She had to stop feeding pointless hopes.
Shen was already waiting for her arrival, visibly elated. Barverra didn't listen attentively to her greetings or detailed explanation about the scheme to ignite the conflict - she had known it already.
The daughter of Gunmar got slightly surprised when Shen mentioned overthrowing Stricklander. No, sure thing, her own dislike for that winged bastard had seemingly reached far enough. And, of course, it was dumb to assume that the treacherous community would never use a perfect chance to kick out their leader.
And…
Getting rid of Stricklander for good was such an irresistible temptation. Sure thing, they had their deal, but… The impure knew no honor, he was too dangerous to keep around…
Besides, Barverra wouldn't break her promise. The chaos of the looming conflict had nothing to do with her. It was just a result of some lucky coincidences and someone's quick thinking. And her? She was simply an onlooker.
The Herald of Doom could allow Shen and her goons to proceed. That cunning snake seemed capable enough not to jeopardize everything.
'I wanted to hear what Jim's mother would think about that.'
She cursed Sarah for planting that doubt inside her mind.
'You prioritize the defense of your king too much.'
She hated Stricklander for reading her so perfectly.
"Abort your plan," Barverra growled, interrupting a lengthy explanation.
Shen stopped mid-word, genuinely shocked.
"What do you mean? I thought you liked it so far," she tried to protest weakly, seemingly wondering what exactly had gone wrong.
"An unhinged plan with the potential to nullify all the hard work put into Father's liberation?" the daughter of Gunmar snorted. "Aren't you bold? Should I remind you of the priorities?"
She wondered if she sounded convincing. Sure thing, her skill with threats would go nowhere, but wasn't she outright lying?
Priorities? Barverra had obviously changed those already - and Gunmar's freedom wasn't as high as it used to be.
Even if she wasn't convincing, Shen was still terrified.
"But… But… The plan's already in the midst, how can we possibly stop…"
Scared, yet trying to protest - was it really that difficult to stop the chain reaction?
No, changelings had always been resourceful enough - Shen probably still hoped for a more favorable outcome.
"You can stop everything, your kind isn't that dumb," Barverra shrugged indifferently. Somehow, she felt no pity for the impure - that one wasn't even entertaining. If she wanted to negotiate, she should have tried Stricklander's approach - that one always bargained on equal terms even when he was in a horrible position.
If the daughter of Gunmar had needed to deal with that bastard to stop the incoming war… Yeah, that would have ended in another round of the battle of wits - and he would have walked away with some extra advantages for himself.
But now? Yes, it had been just an effortless victory. Or rather just a delay to the impeding disaster.
***XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Trollkind had always been vain and changed opinions easily. They would sing praises to the one they considered loser if that one ever won an important fight. However, they would show no mercy to their hero if that one ever showed the weakness.
Draal had known it from his early years, as he had witnessed it countless times. He just had never imagined ending as the one kicked from his top position and…
It felt terrible. Now he could understand while his father had scolded him so much when he had been rude to some coward or loser.
The entire Trollmarket jeered as if trying to outdo each other in the way to offend the one they used to fear so much. And each of Draal's attempts to tell them off, to retort or even to growl, only resulted in more booing and trash-throwing.
Trying to hit anyone? That thought crossed his mind momentarily, but he discarded it at once - the crazed mob would be more than happy to rip him apart. His defeat boosted their confidence tremendously - the warrior could hear some whispers discussing the possibility of finishing the fleshbag Trollhunter's job.
So he kept escaping, trying to avoid mocking stares and insensitive jabs - a fate truly befitting for a loser.
There was nowhere to go, nowhere to return to. Kanjigar, who used to be the paragon of everything good to his son, hadn't been around anymore. Any friends Draal used to have would most likely pretend they didn't know him in the best-case scenario. Vendel, as the elder, couldn't play favorites. And…
He bumped into someone - a predictable outcome for rushing through the crowd without looking. Though, perhaps, that one had set it to start a fight.
Whatever. Draal didn't even care anymore - if the fleshbag had never given him the right to go down with honor, perhaps some local could assist with that.
He raised the head, prepared to face the opponent, and felt all the motivation evaporating at once.
Krax. Why, out of all the possible trolls, he had bumped into that one? Draal would rather die from Bagdwella's hand than from his.
Not that he considered Krax a horrible troll or a terrible warrior.
That one was simply a bitter reminder of his own terrible mistake and blind trust that had nearly led the entire Trollmarket to the catastrophe.
Draal wished he could forget that devious female. Once he had thought he could have seen the entire universe reflected in her magnetic green eyes. All of that had been just a calculated lie - and Krax had been the one who had opened his eyes.
He should have been grateful for that favor, yet… Yes, the part of Draal's soul still preferred to blame the wandering vendor in his ruined happiness.
If they had to fight, then…
Yeah, screw the honorable death - the son of Kanjigar wouldn't mind ripping off Krax's head, even if that action would make him a legit criminal.
He had nothing to lose right now.
It may have felt like an eternity, yet actually lasted for a split second. Draal had misunderstood everything - the vendor hadn't looked for a battle. Quite the contrary, he was seemingly rushing somewhere himself, never aware of the surroundings. Apparently, he hadn't even acknowledged the fact that he had bumped into the newly appointed local pariah as he apologized under his breath and disappeared into the crowd.
Some local booed, probably expecting some other outcome.
***XXXXXXXXXX
Trolls might have belonged to underground, yet Draal couldn't help but enjoy the fresh night air outside. Somehow, it started to feel too suffocating down there. Yes, it was all inside his head, the Trollmarket remained the same, just general attitude shifted.
He couldn't go back there, so perhaps it would be wise to begin a search for a shelter. An unused cave? Or maybe the forest, if local garden and river trolls wouldn't mind?
Inside the human settlement? Yeah, sure. Only impures were living that close to fleshbags. Perhaps even she was around.
As if it was the right time to think about the fake who had fabricated everything, including her name!
Or maybe it actually was. Wasn't she just another one on the endless list of his failures?
The downfall of his original tribe. Kanjigar had always demanded it hadn't been Draal's fault, but who could say for sure?
His nasty attitude towards Deya.
Butting heads with multiple Trollhunters.
Never enough to own the amulet or even make his father proud.
Bringing the changeling to the Trollmarket.
And now losing against the fleshbag whelp.
He couldn't even claim to have lost his way - his path had never been the rightful one to start with, and…
Something cracked below his feet - and Draal just wished the sun rose at once, turning him into the stone for good.
He had failed his father on so many levels. How had he had the nerve to claim he should have inherited the mantle? How could he have dared to open his mouth blabbering some bushigal about the revenge?
After all, he had failed the first thing any family member should have done for their fallen kin - locating and gathering all the remains, securing those from rogue gruesomes. No, instead of that he had been appeasing his ego, drinking glug, bragging and fighting the literal child!
That defeat had to be some divine retribution, some punishment for the arrogance.
Draal kneeled, picking up a stone that used to be a part of Kanjigar's body. Those fragments were scattered all over the canal, and who knew how long it would take to gather all of them?
But… Well, he had no need to hurry - and hopefully, his father would have forgiven his stupidity.
He picked up a second fragment, then reached for the third…
Had he actually grieved his father's loss so far? No, it had always been the amulet and the sacred obligation. Kanjigar had died the honorable way, never yielding and preferring the demise to disgrace. But it never meant Draal wasn't allowed to feel sad - the Trollmarket had never forbidden that. It had been simply his arrogance clouding his judgement.
Did he even had the right to still claim to be Kanjigar's son?
The pile of stones kept growing. If Draal had done it earlier, it would be way easier. Now? Someone had scattered the fragments around - Bular, most likely. Why would that one show any respect to the dead? Weather could probably contribute to it as well. And Draal could only pray that no fleshbag had picked up a peculiar rock - he had heard that some of those had interest in minerals.
The warrior was fully engrossed in his activity, letting down his guard. Yes, it would make him a perfect target, but… He had no idea what to do or where to go next. What was his reason for existence? What was his worth? What…
"Seeing you this pathetic makes me want to puke."
He wished it was just an auditory hallucination, but no, she was actually standing just some feet away, her green eyes gleaming with hostility.
Forget Krax, that one had been the ultimate embodiment of his failure, the ghost of the past never stopping to haunt him.
Draal nearly slipped calling the name he knew her under. But no, that one wasn't hers - just another thing the vile impure stole to add to her cover. Her kind had no troll names, discarding those in favor of the fleshbag ones.
"Too much time too waste? If I took a break from sucking to Bular, I'd spend it for something better," he growled, taking a battle stance.
But really, she had the nerve not to unsheathe her khopeshes when she could. Did she actually thought he would never dare to attack her seriously?
This battle would be nothing like their loving spars - Draal was ready to fight to death. The impure would get a wake-up call and…
She had also never showed him the true extent of her skill. They both knew nothing about each other's limits. Perhaps it was the right time to learn - even if it could end in the death for one of them.
"Loud, rude, reckless, stubborn and never willing to listen," the impure rolled her eyes. "Nothing's changed since I left."
Nothing made any sense - Draal could swear she wasn't that willing to fight, but wasn't her kind skilled liars by default?
No, he couldn't get careless once again.
"Catch."
He hadn't even fully realize the meaning of the word she uttered - just reacted on reflex, catching a tiny object she threw.
Another fragment of Kanjigar's body.
"Found it by the trees over there," the impure gestured indifferently. "Your dumb ass would never look there…"
Had she just helped?
"Why?"
She remained silent, turning away and ready to leave. Draal didn't expect any answer, yet surprisingly he got one.
"He was a good troll. Way better than a certain someone. Think whatever you want, but even I know the meaning of gratitude…"
Did she actually mean that? The liar who had only wished to seize the amulet? No, that had to be just another of her tricks…