Sometimes it felt like all the circumstances were mocking her. The Destiny itself, apparently, was not that kind to the daughter of Gunmar, throwing her twist after twist. Was that the mysterious karma some of the fleshbags kept bringing up?
Barbara sighed, massaging her temples. A city map was spread before her, covered in multiple marks, the results of her search for Bular. The more time had passed since the woman learned about the Monster of Arcadia, the more complicated it looked.
In the end, the visit to the ruined storehouse hadn't given any useful information and only left too many questions. The only more or less certain things were that Bular was in Arcadia and that someone was covering for him. Not that she hadn't known it before the night investigation.
Though, the daughter of Gunmar had actually discovered something worth taking into account. There was also another party involved in supernatural stuff whose allegiances were unclear. Well, if they were involved in the protection of common people like Barbara suspected, there was no way for them to be on the same side as her brother.
It was as if everything just kept spiraling out of control. A seemingly peaceful Arcadia once used to be a safe haven for the Herald of Doom and the perfect place to raise her son without any looming danger. Now it looked more like some peculiar kind of battlefield, held a tight connection to the troll civilization, and who-knew-what-else was lurking below the deceptive peaceful appearance.
It wasn't like the daughter of Gunmar had only one choice, quite the contrary, there was a wide variety of options for the following action. She could simply move away from the accursed place, letting all the magic and troll-related stuff resolve itself without her involvement. She could stay but ignore all of that altogether.
Both counted as running away, be it from truth or her true self. That couldn't continue forever - Barbara knew for sure that her top priority was securing the place for her son in this world. Jim's existence alone was unacceptable for many. If so, then the Herald of Doom just had to obliterate everyone who had something against it.
It was the perfect time to stop running and turn to action. She had to find Bular. Their parting ways may have involved discord, but they were still a family. Her brother could become the most trusted and faithful ally. And if he needed some help in hiding, she was willing to provide that.
Though Barbara suspected that Bular had actually managed to create some kind of an alliance for the first time in his life, no matter how impossible it sounded. Strategic thinking had never been among his strongest points, but well, things could change drastically as time passed. Wasn't the daughter of Gunmar a perfect example of that herself?
Not to mention that Barbara would prefer to have another line of defense to protect her son, especially now, with her own skill being far from her prime. And her brother, who was one of the strongest warriors in the Gunmar's army, could become a great asset.
Still, the final plan involved going out in the true form a lot, despite all the risk of encountering the Trollhunter and the possibility of attracting the attention of that unknown third party. Nevertheless, there was simply no other choice - that would be the most efficient way to find Bular. Not to mention that encountering him in human guise would be outright suicidal - the woman would end dead before any chance for explanation.
The first night of prowling about the city led nowhere - Barbara only noticed some goblins scavenging some trash. The cowardly creatures scattered the second they caught a glimpse of her form though. Most likely, their instincts told them, that even ganging up on her would lead to defeat. The female also had stumbled upon some kind of barrier obstructing a secluded passageway. That one apparently didn't let trolls enter, so the daughter of Gunmar supposed it to be the third party's handiwork.
The situation didn't change the next time as well - it was much like the giant troll vanished without leaving any traces. Now the woman was even surer that her brother had allies who provided him with a cover.
Or maybe he was hiding in the forest... Barverra tried to look there for her third night out, with no success once again. Centuries ago she would even praise Bular for learning some stealth, but now it was outright annoying.
And then the woman was forced to put the entire search on hold for a while. At first, she had actual night shifts, then Jim grew worried about his mother not being at home during nighttime for nearly a week, so she stayed at home to put his mind at ease.
Meanwhile, she also tried to learn a bit about local folklore by talking to some of her co-workers. There was surprisingly a lot of stuff in addition to stories about the local monster, be it about some shapeshifters (so even changelings were not able to cover everything) or green imps scattering trash at nights (at least, someone had noticed goblins) or even aliens (well, she was skeptical about the last one). In any case, it turned out that Arcadia was way more connected to the magical world than one could assume. The daughter of Gunmar wanted to kick herself for managing to neglect all of those facts for so long.
When Barbara finally returned to her night roaming, it had become more sporadic rather than regular as her initial resolve kept dwindling with each failure. Perhaps, she had gotten overexcited and gladly jumped to conclusions. Where was the guarantee that there was any Gumm-Gumm around to start with? Urban legends about some fearsome black monster? Those could be just exaggerations. Someone could notice any other troll - weren't there at least river trolls around? - and imagination gladly provided all more menacing details. Black color could be just some really dark hue of green or blue or purple, and trolls looked pretty scary to the human eye by default.
A bone she had found? Well, someone was clearly eaten there, but was it even the proof that a culprit had been Bular? There had never been a shortage of trolls, who would never abandon fleshbag-eating habits even if they claimed to have nothing to do with the Skullcrusher. Many changelings would probably not be against savoring some flesh. Hell, there were goblins, chaotic and uncontrolled and never caring about exposing all the supernatural world. The horde of those could easily tear apart some unfortunate soul, especially if that one openly panicked.
Not to mention that there were more and more magical traps and barriers appearing in the most unexpected spots with each outing. The unknown party wasn't sitting idly for whatever reason. It was like they were provoked to act more. Barverra wondered if her own lurking were at least the partial cause for that. That would mean she had attracted too much attention already…
The daughter of Gunmar had decided - tonight would be the last outing. If she didn't find anything, she would just give up and stay away from any troll stuff for good. It was pointless to keep risking that much and meet only goblins. Some nights ago, Barverra somehow ignited a magic trap and ended nearly blinded for several hours. And who knew what else could possibly happen. She had always been quite pragmatic, so why had she started to cling to empty hopes right now?
Yet, it seemed the fate had a way different plan for the daughter of Gunmar - as soon as the thought of giving up had crossed her mind, a sudden gust of wind brought a faint scent of fleshbag blood.
Someone was hunting that night, and as Barverra followed the sudden lead, her nose picked up another, nearly nostalgic, smell. The trail brought her to the local dumpster.
So, the idiot brother is actually alive.
He was really there, as big and menacing as she remembered, feasting on some unfortunate soul and splattering blood everywhere. That certainly brought back so many memories.
"Would it kill you not to create a mess during a meal?" the question escaped her lips before the daughter of Gunmar managed to process it. Deep inside, she felt overwhelming happiness - she seriously had missed that brute and his tendencies. If she could, she would run to him and hug that dumbass tightly.
No, that wasn't right, those were her newfound habits showing. Hugs were for weaklings like fleshbags and those trolls who insisted on pacifism. Gumm-Gumms never showed affection openly. Gunmar's family had never hugged each other.
Bular grumbled discontentedly, abandoning his prey and glaring at his sister. Without any doubt, he most likely heard and smelled her approaching - even he wouldn't let his guard down that easily.
"I do what I want," he snarled with annoyance.
It was like there was no separation for centuries - that kind of conversations and minor spats used to be quite regular during the days of the Gunmar's conquest as both siblings tended to find plenty of meaningless things for disagreement.
"And I don't need any preaching from a coward hiding her ass for all those centuries," Bular added with a scowl. He looked angry, but Barverra knew him too well to fall for that. It went without saying that her younger brother was happy to see her as well.
"I believe I have a right - it's my hunting ground, after all," the female stated boldly, feeling some relief that Bular stayed the same. He was some kind of constant in her ever-changing life. What would she have done if her brother had changed too much?
Barverra tried to avoid looking at the human remains though - weirdly enough, those made her uneasy. That simply made no sense - how many fleshbags had she killed and eaten herself? Well, the kill count dropped drastically after the Gunmar's banishment, and she hadn't tasted any human flesh for at least some centuries, but was it enough to change her views on a fellow troll's eating habits?
"Your hunting ground?" Bular snorted. "I've secured it some decades ago and haven't seen you around at all! Besides, impures would be turning the city upside down if you were on a killing spree here - they're obsessed with keeping things hidden".
The way he casually brought up changelings definitely made some things click.
"So, you allied with impures," Barverra drawled. "Wasn't you the one most repulsed by them?"
She still remembered the time when Morgana had shown Gunmar her heretical invention. The Skullcrusher himself was disgusted and called changelings inferior trolls at once. However, the dark overlord wasn't that against the idea of using those. His daughter felt some revulsion too, yet never dared to oppose Gunmar's decision. Bular, on the other hand, clearly had taken it the worst - back then, he hadn't even allowed impures to stay in his presence.
And judging from his sour expression at the moment, he still held that disgust, yet most likely had no other choice but to depend on changelings.
"As if anyone asked my opinion... Father told me to work with those abominations," the son of Gunmar muttered with visible irritation.
Well, her brother was essentially worshiping their father, so it made a lot of sense why he had swallowed his pride, but…
How could the Skullcrusher leave any instructions for his son?
"Is Father also around?" the female couldn't hide her anxiety. She had seen Gunmar sucked behind the portal and sealed by accursed Deya, but maybe he had managed to find some way to escape his imprisonment. He was the ultimate troll, after all.
"No," Bular's short response had shattered all the hope.
"Then how could he give you any orders?"
It simply made no sense. Barverra didn't remember Gunmar giving any of his kids that kind of command to cooperate with changelings in case if something horrible had happened. If anything, the Gumm-Gumm king told them to be wary of impures as he doubted their allegiances. Not to mention that there were no pessimistic thoughts before the Killahead battle - no, they all had been confident in the enemy's total defeat.
"It's possible to send messages through small cracks," her brother explained curtly. "That's how Father still can be in charge".
Bular suddenly shortened the distance between the two of them, looming over his sister menacingly.
"He asks about you all the time, you know," he growled in a barely hidden fury. "We both know that Father would prefer to have you, his favorite, his pride and his cherished strategist as a commander here, not me. And definitely not to leave all the small planning to those damned impure with their fishy agenda... Yet where have you been all this time? What have you done for Gumm-Gumms?"
He was actually right - Barverra had done nothing for Gunmar's sake since parting ways with her brother. The sense of guilt was too suffocating.
That one also wasn't right. The Skullcrusher's kin never apologized, never admitted their mistakes. Being around Bular just kept reminding her what kind of person she was supposed to be.
"Whatever I did, it was way better than your unhinged suicidal revenge plan," she snapped, not willing to admit her fault.
Yes, like that. Never allow anyone to accuse you.
Her brother suddenly grinned in weird satisfaction.
"But it worked, you know," he gloated. "I killed Deya and several of her successors!"
Bular wouldn't dare to boast of something he hadn't done. No, that had to be true. The daughter of Gunmar had seen it herself - the current Trollhunter was Kanjigar, meaning that he inherited the mantle. Deya was a relatively young troll to die from some natural cause, so she clearly fell in a battle. Not only that, but apparently, there had been other Trollhunters as well, and Bular actually kept fighting them. If anything, one could definitely praise his resilience.
"Revenge is good, but how that can help our hopeless case?" admitting that her brother was right surely felt new and bizarre. In the past, his plans tended to end as a disaster and even Gunmar had criticized his son for being reckless.
"The Killahead Bridge will be rebuilt," Bular proclaimed proudly.
"With so many pieces scattered around?" Barverra couldn't refrain from a skeptical remark. Alright, her brother had been right about the revenge attempt, but it still should have been impossible to reassemble all the fragments, restoring the gate to the Darklands.
Bular's expression grew so smug that she regretted opening her mouth at once. There always had been a rivalry between the Gunmar's children in an attempt to prove out who was the best fitting for the heir's, especially when they were way more of them. Sometimes that competition had turned out to be too aggressive, ending in death battles. It may have gone down with only two of them left, but never disappeared entirely, though they definitely had learned to cooperate for the common goal.
Barverra had tended to win in the past, sometimes even without trying. She was smart, knew how to judge trolls surrounding her father and her plans were well-thought and intricate. Comparing to that, Bular was prone to rushed decisions and unreasonable actions, which got him a reputation of someone not that bright.
Was it so shocking that being more useful to Gunmar at the moment heavily inflated his ego?
"Impures are working on pinpointing, recovering, and delivering all the pieces," Bular stated in the end after enjoying some dramatic pause. It definitely felt like a minute of genuine triumph for him.
"And Arcadia is the place where they'll rebuild Killahead," the daughter of Gunmar finished impatiently, not that amused of her brother's smugness. "Why here though?"
Personally, she would choose a place where an attack would hold more strategic meaning, like capital or at least a bigger city. Bular most likely would never pay attention to such nuances, but there were changelings on his side. Surely, at least one of them would think out how to wreck more chaos among fleshbags. Human civilization had evolved heavily in those nine centuries - their weapons used to be nearly laughable unless enchanted, but now there was more than enough stuff to inflict critical damage even to a troll. So thinking out some strategy was a must.
"What do you mean?" the son of Gunmar looked genuinely dumbfounded by her question - he even had lost all of the previous smugness. "Aren't you aware of what lays underneath? Haven't you come to this place because of that?"
She shook her head - her stay in Arcadia was just a coincidence in the end. Apparently, the list of things Barverra knew nothing about continued to expand.
"So you say, you have no idea, that there's a tremendous Heartstone below us? And that traitors build a Trollmarket there?"
"What?" Barverra couldn't believe her own ears. No wonder that she had met Kanjigar three years ago. The ones Bular called traitors, could be only the trolls who assisted Deya in her fight against the Skullcrusher. So, all of this time she had been raising Jim in the epicenter of the future decisive battle. The only thought of that made her heart stop.
She had grown too weak, too careless. There was no way Barverra could protect her son if things stayed the same way…
Walter Strickler had always been known as a respectable member of society. How could it be otherwise with a teacher genuinely devoted to his subject and never neglecting his multiple students, a citizen participating in all kinds of humanities, and just a pleasant person overall?
It was quite a pity that all of his acquaintances were greatly mistaken. In the end, all of that was simply an intricately crafted lie of a cunning shapeshifter troll who took the place of the real Strickler back then when he was a toddler. That was quite a typical story for any changeling. Infiltrating human society while stripping some innocent baby of their family and possible future, finding themself a proper role to play, which would bring the most use to the Janus Order, and of course, following the goal of freeing Gunmar, the dark overlord. Though, in Stricklander's case, there was definitely something that singled him out among others.
Ambition.
He didn't remember himself, how and when exactly it appeared, so most likely it happened quite early in his life. Since then the strong desire had been determining his path. Not to be just a slave to Gunmar, an impure despised by the entire trollkind, a tool to throw away after using. No, that pathetic and useless destiny would never satisfy him.
Why had changelings even allowed everyone else to look down on them when they were in a much better position than any other troll? Inferior? Them? Simply preposterous. Changelings were free in their movement and did not need to hide from the sunlight, covering in the dark once the day started. Stricklander surely wished more of his kind could share his views.
Alas, that one had always been a lonely road. In a way, it was impossible to have any genuinely loyal and reliable ally in the Janus Order, with its codex basically encouraging everyone to betray first. Stricklander himself hadn't been the exception to the rule - he had climbed ranks in Janus Order with no regard for methods, after all. The changeling clearly had a good share of backstabbing and not that he ever had thought of it as being wrong. He had to be at the very top of the system if he wished to bring the so much-needed change. All of that surely had granted him a reputation of a devious bastard. Not that he had ever cared what others thought.
When Gunmar himself had finally noticed him and praised his scheming and planning abilities, Stricklander felt like he had reached the halfway point. Becoming the one in charge of the Killahead Bridge restoration project sounded like the perfect opportunity. The Skullcrusher was a well-known tyrant and megalomaniac, but he still had his own sense of honor, so any subject useful to him could expect some kind of reward. If changelings were the ones to free him, it wouldn't be that far-fetched to believe that they could get a way better position in the dark overlord's army, not just continue being slightly above goblins. And Stricklander could easily see himself promoted to one of the generals or maybe even an advisor.
All of the hopes crumbled too fast. Gunmar left all the important decisions in the hands of his son, that incompetent, reckless imbecile. In the end, the Skullcrusher would always put his own kin above anyone else, even if there were better candidates.
The head of Janus Order soon had found himself a caretaker for a major headache. Bular never contributed much to the plan, going to fight Trollhunters or hunting fleshbags instead. Stricklander had definitely lost the count of times when the entire Janus Order was forced to turn to their connections in an attempt of covering for all the ruckus, damage to property, and disappearances that often followed such outings. Sometimes it felt that the most difficult teenagers at his 'civilian' work were less problematic than Bular.
Not to mention, that their relationship wasn't that civil. Perhaps Stricklander's own frustrations were escaping his control - he was a troll in the end. The changeling often snapped calling, the Gumm-Gumm prince names. Not that Bular had ever been that friendly himself as he barely could stand any 'impure' and Stricklander had become his least favorite one, that was for sure. Most likely, the dark troll hadn't murdered him so far only because his father strictly prohibited him.
This night wasn't that different. The Gumm-Gumm prince just needed to cause trouble once again. This time he had apparently demolished a camp and devoured some people. The worst thing was someone managing to escape. All of that meant a lot of work once again.
The entire Janus Order had only finished with solving the consequences of the previous incident when Bular had trashed the storehouse he used as a temporary lair, and eaten an unfortunate witness. That alone had taken some weeks, and even with all the coverage, some rumors kept coursing around the city.
Why couldn't that fool just be satisfied with the fleshbag prey that Janus Order provided to him regularly? At least they picked ones who wouldn't be missed or searched for. Bular, on the other hand, often targeted people with enough relatives and friends to cause a huge commotion. Sometimes Stricklander even got thought that the son of Gunmar did that intentionally to drive him mad. But no, that would be too complicated for that imbecile.
Still, Walter was irritated to the point of boiling and ready to chew Bular the second he had gotten the report of him returning to the base.
"Are you that interested in ruining our plan, you imbecile?!" he started with an angry reprimand, entering the base in haste and paying no mind to surroundings.
"Are you really in charge? An impure has no problem with offending you, dear brother," an unfamiliar female voice drawled with obvious amusement. Yet her tone also held some dangerous notes.
Stricklander had finally looked around, feeling the extreme uneasiness. Some kind of sixth sense told him that the son of Gunmar causing troubles would be the last of his worries right now.
Bular, who was pacing around, seemed grumpy and sent him a dirty glare. That was the surprisingly underwhelming reaction from him - usually, the Gumm-Gumm prince would have started roaring and throwing threats. Perhaps, the reason was another troll's presence, the one perching on a crate. Not that bulky, black and slender, with elegant dark curved back horns, a wild mane of fiery-red hair, and piercing gaze of blue eyes, the female was radiating authority and confidence. She looked at him appraisingly, and Stricklander unwittingly made a step back, shifting into his true form at once. Dealing with someone of that caliber was too dangerous, that was for sure. The female was someone possessing a terrifying grace of a predator, a beauty akin to a deadly blade. He had never met her before, but she was infamous enough to recognize her immediately. The daughter of Gunmar and the former strategist of his army, Barverra the Atrocious, the Herald of Doom. Stricklander had learned enough about her backstory and reputation to make a mistake and hope for any nice attitude from her.
What was shedoing here?
The entire Janus Order was searching for Barverra for centuries following the Gunmar's command. In the end, they hadn't found even a trace as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth. There wasn't even any bragging among trolls, so it totally ruled out her possible death in a battle. There was simply no way that someone had defeated one of the most dangerous Gumm-Gumms and kept silent about the feat equaling Deya's heroic deed of banishing Gunmar.
Was she hiding? For what reason? The Herald of Doom was known for her loyalty to her father, shouldn't she have done at least some attempts to free him, like her brother? Wouldn't she be the one more likely to join forces with changelings as the daughter of Gunmar was known to be more practical? There were too many questions and Stricklander definitely didn't like that. Not to mention the nasty feeling he had as she was watching his every action. Judging to decide if he was of any use.
The changeling had lived for too long to make a stupid mistake. Barverra was ready to snap his neck if she didn't like something. And probably his attitude towards Bular already had given the head of Janus Order some bad points in her eyes.
"So, you're Stricklander," she jumped down and approached the impure lazily. It was genuinely shocking how the Herald of Doom was barely half a head taller than him, yet managed to be as intimidating as her giant brother. "I guess, I need to show some gratitude for taking care of my little brother. He must be a handful… He's always been like that."
Bular growled in protest but refrained from any comments for some reason. Strickler couldn't help getting bad vibes because of that. If the son of Gunmar preferred to shut up, he had to pick his words carefully. Any mindless phrase could easily bring doom upon his head.
"I'm just following Lord Gunmar's orders," that one sounded the safest from his point of view.
The changeling had miscalculated. The best one would be keeping silent.
"Really? Has Father ever ordered you to call his son an imbecile?" Barverra faked a surprise. "I've always believed that to him, offending his family meant personal offense. I'm pretty sure that Father will never tolerate such insolence. If I were you, I would be more conscious with your word choice".
There wasn't anything suggesting hostility in her words, yet Stricklander couldn't shake off a feeling of the looming danger. No wonder that the daughter of Gunmar used to instill so much fear in her enemies. She was the type the changeling hated the most - the one great in reading others. Seeing through some scheme would be a piece of cake for her.
With only Bular around, the changeling could easily become the de facto leader - once you got hold of the black troll's rage fits, it had become more or less possible to turn those in the right direction. Yes, the son of Gunmar was troublesome, but at least he wasn't intervening with plans. His sister, on the other hand, wasn't the one who would allow even an attempt to control her actions. Fooling her? Most likely, not possible, and too risky even to try.
Besides, Stricklander had a hunch that Barverra would take over her brother's position as the one in charge. That would mean the head of Janus Order being demoted to the errand boy.
The suspicion turned out true fast enough as the Herald of Doom started questioning the changeling about the progress. She brought up a surprising amount of small and seemingly unimportant details. That alone was a drastic contrast to Bular's usual demand for a report. If the son of Gunmar usually was content with some general statements, his sister wanted to know as much as possible about each found fragment, possible locations of the ones left, and resources that the Order possessed.
A part of Stricklander couldn't help admiring that kind of approach. It was not that different from his own methods, and he wasn't above admiring someone else for their skills. It would be one thing to praise some kind of ally. However, the Herald of Doom was a danger to his ambitions.
He had already started to hate the daughter of Gunmar. With her around, every credit for success would go to her. Not to mention that the impure felt his dislike was a mutual thing. Who knew, when the female would have a fit of rage and expose of him? Bular wouldn't do that because he needed Strickler's brains, but his sister could go easily without any help.
He certainly was in dire need of something that would give him a grip over Barverra, but nothing came to his mind right now.
It was like all the good ideas had evaporated under her keen gaze. Was it the female's way of telling to never mess with her?
No, she was seriously infuriating. Stricklander had never met anyone who raised that kind of emotion in his soul.
"The sun will rise soon," Barverra muttered suddenly, breaking his reverie. "I need to go..."
Her tone was uncharacteristically quiet, and was that a shade of worry crossing her face?
No, there was no way the daughter of Gunmar would show such weakness. The changeling wasn't going to fall for that - the chances of it being some kind of trap were impossibly high.
However, Stricklander had finally got an idea, the one good enough to let him get away with some scheming. As much as he didn't like the Herald of Doom's presence, it would be wiser to have it as close as possible.
The first step would be giving the daughter of Gunmar a lair. That one would leave her at least in debt. Next, the changeling was going to learn as much as possible about Barverra and find her weakness. No one was impeccable and unbreakable, after all.
"Aren't you going to stay here, Sister?" Bular asked with a visible disappointment. For the first time ever, the son of Gunmar had done something useful, unwittingly playing right into Strickler's hands. That was a gift horse he was not going to miss.
"The Order will provide for all your needs, my lady," the changeling added, putting as much fake respect and reverence as he could.
Unfortunately, he either proposed it too hastily or overdid with trying to appease her ego as the reaction turned out to be the exact opposite of the one he hoped for.
"No, thanks," she looked at him with obvious disdain. "I've been surviving on my own so far just perfectly. I'll come to check on you in a week".
And so, the first attempt was ruined entirely…
Barbara had no idea what had possessed her back then when she followed Bular to the place he called his current lair. She had come to believe that she enjoyed her peaceful life among fleshbags. So why grabbing on the first opportunity to go back to her true nature and old lifestyle? Was it her own anxiety regarding Jim's safety? Or perhaps, the reason was her brother's accusations and her own sense of guilt? She loved her father, after all, and it was her responsibility to end his imprisonment.
Most likely, the answer was the combination of all of those. Her current life was wonderful, but it was just an illusion, something fragile enough to crumble once someone came poking it.
Bular was surprisingly talkative on their way, bragging about his fights with Trollhunters and ranting about stupid impures. The name of some 'Stricklander' came out a lot, so Barverra easily figured out that one changeling to be some kind of important figure. Though a part of her imagined him to be a caretaker whom Gunmar appointed to look after his son. Everyone knew that Bular could use some help in the planning department, to put it kindly.
The female barely refrained from a chuckle when she had seen the supposed lair. The local museum!
What an irony.
Putting Bular and museum in the same sentence alone felt so bizarre. On the other hand, it was certainly the last place she would look for any troll.
Both siblings were engrossed in their conversation when a man rushed inside, yelling the accusations. So that was the rumored Stricklander.
Barverra's first impression of him was mixed. While a part of her couldn't help admiring his blending skills (she would never suspect someone like him in being inhuman), his attitude towards her brother was just unacceptable. There was no wonder that Bular hated him with passion.
Still, the woman was quite surprised how easily she had fallen back to her old mannerism after not talking or behaving like that for centuries. Yes, there were slight differences - like, for example, old her would murder that Stricklander on the spot. Well, it didn't matter that much in any case, as even her brother hadn't been able to catch that nuance.
The thing was that the impure was trouble for sure. The more Barverra was watching him, the more she realized what kind of person he was. Ambitious, intelligent, and clearly with some goals of his own. A truly cunning bastard, and the kind she preferred to never have as an ally. Dealing with someone like that would mean a non-stop battle of wits, with a constant risk of double-crossing and backstabbing.
Back when she was still a tiny whelp, Gunmar usually took his daughter to all the discussions with his vassals and taught her to discern and judge their personalities as soon as possible. The Skullcrusher had always called the ones with too much ambition the problematic ones.
Keep them as long as they are useful, but get rid ofthem as soon as you can go without them.
That was the teaching Barverra blindly believed in for her entire life. There was no question why Gunmar had left that Stricklander alive for so long. The restoration of the Killahead Bridge needed an intelligent supervisor, and most likely, that impure was the best for the job. From his brief report, the female could tell at least that.
Bular wouldn't be amused, yet his sister wasn't planning to rearrange the current status quo. She was going to leave the changeling in charge for the time being. Most likely the changeling was the most efficient leader for the Janus Order right now. His hypothetical successor, no matter how good, could possibly slow down the entire process. On the other hand, Barverra didn't plan to tell that to Stricklander - an imminent danger hanging over his head would be a good way of keeping him on a tight rein. He wasn't suicidal, after all.
Besides, the daughter of Gunmar couldn't control the situation every night. After some consideration, she decided on maintaining her human life for a while. Abandoning all of that would mean going back to being a troll full-time and bringing Jim to the place overflowing with all kinds of villains. Barverra couldn't even trust Bular entirely - who knew if he could treat her son the right way. And impures would definitely play their own dirty games. That wasn't a good place for a child.
For now, Barverra was going to be satisfied with having a link to her true kind's society and being able to get as much information as possible.
According to Stricklander, the Janus Order somehow had managed to spread its influence all over the world, infiltrating important governmental structures and planting their spies in places where they could give enough support to reach their end goals. For now, impures seemed to be more or less loyal to the Skullcrusher, so they had been assisting Bular for some centuries. They had taken over the tremendous task of recovering all the pieces of the Killahead Bridge and proceeded smoothly. Barverra's mind trailed back to her unfortunate changeling husband Ethan - apparently, she had screwed there a lot. If they had a proper talk, the Herald of Doom would be back way earlier. Though…
If that had happened, she would have never had her Jim, her dear boy. So what if it meant several decades of delay?
As for Bular, he actually had a task of his own - the recovery of the Daylight Amulet. Ironically, the greatest weapon to defeat the Gumm-Gumm king had also turned out to be the key to his prison. That discovery made Barverra royally pissed - wasn't her brother bragging non-stop of slaying several Trollhunters? Why the hell hadn't he secured the amulet then?
Well, there was a legit excuse for that - apparently, there was some kind of magic preventing it from falling into the hands of a previous owner's killer. That was a pretty well-thought move, the female would give credit for considering the possibility to that accursed Merlin.
The last of their resources would be goblins, who assisted in small tasks. As for the enemy side, as Bular had mentioned previously, there was the Trollmarket underneath Arcadia. Luckily, their number of capable warriors diminished greatly over the years - not that they had a lot to start with. Most of them had held the mantle of Trollhunter at some point, which meant glorious or not that glorious death in battle. The deserter general Aaarrrgghh apparently had found refuge there as well. He could be a dangerous asset, but according to Bular, the once fearsome brute reduced to a pathetic fool, who refused to fight altogether.
At least that was good news - the former general possessed tremendous strength and most likely would hold his ground even in a fight against the Skullcrusher. His sudden turn to pacifism was a godsend. It meant one less dangerous troll in the close vicinity.
Besides, as Barverra suspected, there was a third party, even though they appeared recently. Neither her brother nor Stricklander could tell much about them, be it their numbers or motives. They were clearly someone from the magic users' side. Those people had already managed to spoil some of Bular's outings. Well, most likely, it wasn't anyone of Merlin's or Morgana's caliber, besides, their stance was mostly the passive onlooker one. For now, those weren't such a problem.
Barbara's second visit to the museum didn't bring much. Stricklander was missing for better or worse, and Bular seemed to have an extremely foul mood. Though he perked a bit after seeing his sister.
"Do you fancy a spar?" Barverra asked. It was something she had thought about for days. Her current skills were rusty, and she couldn't continue like that. No, there was a dire need for a quality fight. The one with a rival who wouldn't go easy yet had no wish to take away her life. The son of Gunmar fitted the requirements perfectly.
"Not here though," he grumbled and led his sister outside. After some travel through the night city, they arrived at the clearing in the forest.
Barverra looked around, at the same time trying to pick up any suspicious sounds or smells. Bular grinned:
"It's a safe spot, I often use it to beat the crap out of impures".
She decided against commenting - back during Gunmar's rule days, her brother had tended to have a lot of death fights with Gumm-Gumm soldiers out of boredom. Probably, his changeling sparring partners didn't get a better end.
The female shifted to the comfortable battle stance waiting for the ambush. And it came - before she managed to realize a thing, her back hit one of the trees. As expected, Bular went all out from the very start. Still, she had hoped to be able to dodge the first hit at least. Her skills had dulled even more than she suspected.
"Are you joking?" Barverra heard her brother's displeased voice approaching. "Since when cannot you deal with something like this?"
"Let's continue," she hissed through the teeth, the irritation overcoming her mind. The female hated to feel that pathetic. "You've just got lucky!"
Who had she tried to fool? It was definitely not just some luck. Barverra had missed at least a dozen of heavy hits before she managed to get a hold of Bular's rhythm and start to dodge and parry. The female actually expected some unkind jeers from her brother, but he kept uncharacteristically silent. It left a nearly grim impression.
"Enough!" he barked all of a sudden, stopping the sparring at once and scowling at his sister. "When was the last time you had a true death fight?"
That was a surprisingly keen observation, though how could it possibly be otherwise after all the training they had together? If anyone could judge her current battle prowess to the one she used to have, that would be Bular.
"So, you've noticed," Barverra muttered, thinking that it was inevitable, no matter how she would prefer to avoid talking about her shameful state.
"It was difficult not to. Was that the reason why you decided against using Stricklander's proposal?"
The question was totally unexpected. The female had assumed he would inquire about the reasons for her pathetic current skills, but her brother decided to ignore that for some reason. Instead of clinging to the past, he chose to move forward and focus on the present. Probably, Bular had changed as well because of all the roaming he had.
"I don't trust Stricklander," she answered in the end. "But my reasons had nothing to do with him - believe me, I may be weaker than I used to be, but I still can tear off all of his limbs if I ever wish so".
"Then why?" the son of Gunmar frowned. "I'd prefer to have you around. That impure is certainly scheming something behind Father's back. Unlike me, you could easily frame him".
For a second, Barverra had considered telling him everything. Bular was her family, after all. On the other hand, he was quite narrow-minded and despised everything connected to fleshbags (well, except their meat). If he was that disgusted by changelings, how would he react to his sister living a human life?
But keeping everything hidden wasn't wise as well. She needed to tell at least a partial truth.
"I have a son," the female stated frankly.
Bular's was totally dumbfounded and looked rather silly with his mouth agape. He wasn't expecting that kind of response.
"How?" that was the only thing he managed to utter.
"I think by this age, you should already have learned where whelps come from," Barverra spatted with slight irritation. Well, to tell the truth, Jim was born the human way, but that was something she would rather omit for the sake of her brother's sanity.
"Not that!" Bular growled in frustration. "How the heck had you managed to find a troll to mate with you?"
That was true. The daughter of Gunmar realized a mistake she had made too late. If she admitted her having a child, there should have been a father involved. If she was just a common troll, there wouldn't be any questions, but she was the infamous Herald of Doom.
"Are there still trolls sympathetic to Father's ideals around?" her brother asked hopefully. "You have been living with them, haven't you? If so, maybe we'll be able to throw away those impures altogether and..."
She could see the point in that train of thought. Changelings always felt like unreliable allies, and it would be way better to find some supporters with a proper sense of honor. Even Gunmar most likely depended on impures simply because there was no other choice.
"There are none," Barverra's voice was firm. What was the point of keeping that momentary delusion? Weren't both siblings checking troll tribes after their father's banishment only to discover that everyone turned their backs to them, even those who hated fleshbags with passion or joined forces with Gumm-Gumms willingly?
"But then..." Bular tried to butt in, but she ignored him.
"My hus... my mate," the female had nearly slipped using a human term but caught herself just in time, "had no idea of my identity. I never told him".
"Was he blind or something not to recognize a Gumm-Gumm? And what about other trolls around?"
It seemed her lies kept complicating things more and more with each passing second. Probably even telling that the father of her son was a fleshbag would be not that problematic, though Bular, most likely, would disown her on the spot. Or even murder for disgracing the family.
"He was relatively stupid and too young to witness Killahead," Barverra picked the words carefully - this part was an absolute truth, just worded the way not to raise any suspicions. "He had no links to other trolls as well… Does it matter that much? I've slain him in any case - the bastard was getting too close to the truth for my liking."
Her brother nodded, visibly satisfied with the explanation. Alas, he didn't stop with inconvenient questions.
"Your offspring will be strong in any case. Father will be elated to hear good news… But why cannot you bring your son to the base? If Stricklander even dares to step in the whelp's direction, I'll make him regret that decision".
That was no lie or empty promise. When it came to family, Bular was surprisingly devoted and overprotective. In a way, he could be the perfect protector for his nephew, but...
Yes, there was a huge 'but'. She mentally played out the possible family reunion, and well, that would be a disaster for sure. The woman even couldn't say who would end with more horrible trauma after that. Jim obviously wouldn't take nicely the fact that his uncle was a giant black human-eating monster; Bular wouldn't also simply accept that the kid was a half-fleshbag.
"I'd still prefer my son to be as far from that impure as possible," the daughter of Gunmar stated firmly. "He might not be bold enough to harm my child physically, but I'm more than sure that Stricklander would try to poison his mind..."
That was another of her worries. The head of Janus Order would never lose an opportunity to get close to at least one of the Gunmar's kin. Wouldn't Jim be the perfect candidate as the one with no knowledge of how things worked in the troll society?
"You're overthinking," Bular grumbled, not planning to step back. "Since when you are that overprotective? Have you at least given your whelp a blade? I bet the answer is 'no'. I guess, uncle Bular should show the runt some moves..." he stopped abruptly, noticing his sister's murderous glare.
"Don't. Dare. To. Even. Think. About. That," she hissed, putting emphasis on each word. "He's only ten!"
"What? That tiny? Even cannot use his bowels properly?" there was a hint of disappointment on her brother's mug. "Call me in some decades then".
The catastrophe was prevented - somehow, the woman managed to stop Bular's eagerness to meet with his nephew. Of course, there was a misunderstanding about Jim's growth, but it wasn't like Barverra was going to explain more. It would be for the best if the Gumm-Gumm prince stayed away from her son.
A/N
To everyone who wonders, this one is going to be a long story. Currently, it's in the first, past act. The main goal of this part is to establish where some of the characters stand and what motivation they have. There are some more things I want to address before moving to the next part with Jim being way more involved.