The people of Winterhall had to confront a few uncomfortable things. Well, more than a few to be honest, several of which had been made on their desperate journey north to the generator. Many of which was coming to grips that the old world and way of doing things was over, that there was no way back. That this was a cold and desolate world they found themselves in, and that the comforts and sureties of the old could not be taken for granted. But there was some difference, between knowing that their old world had ended, and that something from an older and less enlightened time came out of the shadows.
Magic and monsters were relics of times when men of science had not thrown back the veil of ignorance, when the bold explorerers had not taken the torch of truth into the dark places of the world. And now, inside the frozen woods on the edge of the valley, carved into the cliffs and set into the ground, was a question the men of science, the men of reason, were desperate not to ask. Some whispered that maybe, just maybe, magic and monsters had always existed, but had been forced into hiding by those who could not stand to see their world view challenged.
But, by and large, the people of the fledging city accepted that he was a good neighbor. Particularly after one night there appeared two great green houses, of which there had even been several tanks for fish and space for a chicken coop, instructions on how to operate these wonders included with the entire thing, along with a few notes and suggestions of his own findings on the matter. To be sure, some found the two kegs of barley beer to be the greater gift by far, but all in all, they were not the most long sighted.
And then Christmas came. True, the captain provided a common meal, and some thought they could see the troll lurking around the edges, and the captain arranged for toys... but who would forget the troll with his great sack distributing his own small gifts to all? The boys received wooden axes and swords, while the girls gained bows and sewing kits. Each of the adults was given something useful for their work. All in all, it was generally agreed after that that he was a good bloke.
Of course, the children spoke of his cave in wonderous terms, of it being a place of magic and wonder. More than once a child would wander into the frozen forest, only to be returned safely to their parents, not speaking of what adventures they had inside the wood. Some parents welcomed what amounted to be someone to look after the children, particularly after one caught him organising teams of children into building snow forts... and then a great snowball war that shook the woodland. Some wondered at the influence he had on their children, but the troll took no food from their mouths and was content in his cave, somewhat apart but still a part of the community.
As scouts went and located more survivors, the population of Winterhall growing steadily (and increasing once more as children were born), there was some consideration of the forest, of expanding into the trolls little part of the vale. Which truthfully, had already been changing, shifting and becoming something rather other. Oh, there were still well lit and easy paths through the forest, and several buildings the children made free use of inside of it... and yet the thing was, the plants seemed to have changed, adapted and now making use of the ice and snow.
It was a winter based ecosystem, one that had magic running through it. Some of the newcomers scoffed and sneered, but soon became quiet and contemplative after venturing into the depths of the woods, away from the safety of the paths. It was strange and otherworldly, almost but not quite a barrier and reminder that there were things outside of human comprehension. Citizens were welcome to walk along its paths, to visit the gardens and groves laid out for them, the freely flowing streams, even as the air turned to ice...
It was strange in many respects, but then? As far as the Captain and the council were concerned, the Trolls Forest became a place of relaxation, of entertainment. Something that they made sure to clear with the troll himself, who seemed more or less amused... and eventually contributed to the construction of the great archive, made of ice as hard as steel and living wood. Not only a place to display the relics of the past, no, it was also a library and school, a place of learning and understanding. Some wondered why, not only the purpose of it all, but the trolls motives.
The truth? The city needed links from where it came from and what it overcame, even as they look to the future. And the troll wanted a say in it, to have a bit of wonder remaining in the world, to have humanity remember. That said troll also had plans for the future? Ones that stretched far out of sight of a human lifetime? Well, that was the thing, was it not? The troll wanted them around for generations to come, for there to be a future humanity was part of.
And for now, that was enough.
As time passed and life grew normal, the city was a peaceful bastion of order. To be sure, the Captain was only one voice on the council, but as the man in command of the guards and army, it was a very powerful voice indeed. But a constitution was drafted, signed and ratified, elections were held at frequent intervals and in general? Even as additional settlements and colonies were founded, for they had the population to do so, there were no major crises that appeared outside of the great storms... not until the first of the trolls students revealed the arcane lore they had learned.
Many of them called themselves theotechnicians, artificers and engineers able to make and repair magical items. Others were healers, capable of spells that restored vigor and banished disease. A few of them joined the guard as spell-blades, warrior mages who often focused on warding and defense seemed to split their studies between spellcraft and weapon training. And a handful could be seen living in the Troll Wood, as game wardens and guardians of the wood, keep track and making sure that things did not get out of hand.
As for the rumors that a selection of the most devoted and attractive young girls stayed in the trolls cave to serve as mage-priests? That was a rumor easily dispelled, even as Winterhall now had to deal with more than just one magical being, hiding away in his little cave, deep in his mystical woodland. Eyes widened, with the thought that more children would be heading into the woods, to learn and change, the seeds of this cult having sprouted and sent out deep roots of wonder, flowers of arcane potential bursting from the ice only when it was too late to do anything about them.