| Joe the Angry Troll |
| Long ago, there lived a troll, named Joe. Joe was an angry troll, as trolls are wont to be. But Joe wasn�t an average troll, and his wasn�t an average anger.
Joe was intelligent. Far more intelligent than any other troll and more intelligent even than most humans. This was quite the accomplishment for a troll, since on average trolls are quite stupid. But being an intelligent troll had its drawbacks. For one thing, he knew he was a troll, which most of his species didn�t, being rather idiotic. And knowing he was a troll meant knowing he was in for a life of loneliness, as trolls are, by their nature, notoriously difficult to live with. And intelligent trolls even more so. So resigned to his life of loneliness, Joe wandered from town to town, village to village hiring himself out for odd jobs. Anything requiring strength, since no one would believe he was intelligent, as he was obviously a troll. Plowing, clearing trees, fighting the occasional war or body guarding. He especially enjoyed, and was especially good at body guarding, having never, EVER lost a customer. It was what he enjoyed the most, and he figured since people were afraid of him anyway, he might as well use that to his advantage. As a result of all this time spent alone, Joe developed a rather rough exterior, closing himself off emotionally from people with the exception of two or three he actually considered friends. Who managed to look past his hideous outer self to see the decent person with the heart of gold inside. In general, people thought of him as unfriendly, even for a troll, so he became unfriendly. And depressed. One thing he had never found in all of his travels was someone who truly understood him. Until one day he came upon the small, peaceful, idyllic kingdom of Faraway. It was so named simply because of how far away it was from any other populated area. The people of this kingdom were very kind, open, decent folk, but not overly imaginative nor terribly bright. The kingdom was virtually picture-perfect Joe noticed as he lumbered down the path towards it. Large open plains of bright green grass bordered a sparkling clear river and a deep azure lake. He saw herds of cattle tended by young boys, curious as to the identity of this hooded newcomer. He passed abundant rich soil with crops as far as the eye could see, and vast forests teeming with wildlife. Closer to the city walls were simple but well-constructed peasant houses. Farmers for the most part, although there were also smithies and stables to be found here. And the simple wall surrounding the city was beautifully landscaped with trees and shrubs, flowers and even small fountains. A simple community for simple folk, but simple doesn�t always mean bad, as Joe already knew. Inside the wall, in the kingdom proper were rows of buildings, houses and shops, inns and pubs, bakeries and churches, which grew larger and more opulent the closer they were to the sent of town. But none of them was ostentatious. They were large and showed wealth, but somehow they remained tasteful, so as not to be an insult to the people who had not achieved the same level of wealth. There were beautiful parks interspersed at regular intervals, with children laughing and playing, and men and women either joining in or enjoying some peaceful time to themselves. Flowers and fountains abounded. The birds sang loudly and joyfully, praising the kingdom in their own way. And in the center of it all stood the king�s castle. The castle was an impressive and wondrous structure, taller and more expansive than any other building in the city, but not obscenely so. In fact, relative to other castles it was rather modest. But if a building could be described as cheerful, then this castle certainly fit that description. The walls were painted a soft blue, comforting to the eyes and the soul, with peaks of gold topping the towers, and accenting the doors as well. The golden gates stood open at almost all times, welcomingly, as the king would always graciously greet and entertain visitors. The gates to the kingdom itself stood open nearly all the time as well, as was the case when Joe came ambling down the path through the village towards them. A line of young boys trailed after him, their chores forgotten in the excitement of a large, mysterious visitor to their homeland. As he passed, he was aware of people halting in their work or play to stare at him wonderingly, curiosity overtaking them. He was used to being stared at though, so he thought nothing of it. Joe figured he could have just asked these simple people if they had any work, but had found through experience that going to the king first prevented problems in the long run. And once in a while the king himself would have work for Joe, which usually paid better than the peasants, even if it wasn�t as rewarding. Remember, Joe was a troll with a heart of gold, and would rather help simple folk for meager reward when he could. Although when kings needed his help, it usually involved fighting, which Joe was pretty good at. And also, he did have some anger issues to work out, and fighting usually helped with that. For a while anyway. Or sometimes a member of the royal court, or a wealthy merchant friendly with the throne would need a bodyguard, which was even better. That was easy money for Joe, requiring nothing more than stomping around a bit and looking intimidating, coupled with the ability and willingness to sit around in the merchant�s home and consume vast quantities of ale. Once in a while he was required to growl out a threat or two. All in all it was most enjoyable, not to mention profitable, for him. Joe strolled through the open gates into the city itself; looking around for the gatehouse he knew had to be nearby. But he couldn�t find one, or any sigh of guards at all. Instead, he saw small building not far away with a sign that had a question mark on it. Assuming this was where he needed to go for information; he sighed and headed that way. He rapped lightly, (for a troll,) on the shuttered window, and after a moment a small, bald, bespectacled head stuck itself out as the shutters flew open. �Welcome to Faraway! Can I help you, friend?� asked the bald head. Thrown off a little bit, Joe asked, �Where are the guards?� Still smiling, baldy said, �Oh, we don�t really use them here sir. Don�t really need them all that much. They have some up at the castle gates, but they�re largely ceremonial. Old soldiers with too many promotions and nothing else to do with their time but stay in the military. Never got married. Never had family. You know the type, sir. Good fellows, to be sure, but not really doing all that much if I say so myself.� Joe couldn�t believe this pasty, shiny-headed rube was telling a complete stranger that the entire kingdom was practically unguarded. How stupid was this guy? He felt almost sorry for these people, thinking them easy pickings if some less scrupulous people than himself ever found out about this place. Luckily for them he only sacked and pillaged and looted when he was being paid specifically to do just that. �Who do I report to then?� He asked. �Oh, there�s no reason to report to anyone sir. No reason at all. Simply go about your business or pleasure in our fair kingdom. I�m here if you need directions someplace in particular.� He peered more closely at Joe, squinting just a bit. �Do you? Need directions, I mean. I do so enjoy giving directions.� At Joe�s blank stare he sighed and continued. �Well, if you do need directions, as I said, you can ask me, or anyone else you see, and they will be happy to assist you.� He looked Joe over again, as if noticing for the first time his rather large size. �Unless your business is with the king. In that case, simply head straight up this street until you come to the really big gates. That�s the castle. Ask one of the ceremonial guards to see the Steward, and he will direct you from there.� Joe grumbled his thanks, and offered the man a bronze for his help, but baldy wouldn�t accept it. �Oh no, sir. I couldn�t take your money. I already get paid to help people just such as yourself, so it just wouldn�t be right.� Shaking his head and pocketing his money, Joe started to turn away when the bald man called to him once again. �A moment sir, if you would.� Joe turned back around. �Although I cannot in good conscience take your money, I would ask you a favor. He handed Joe two pieces of parchment. �If you could fill out these comment cards, I would greatly appreciate it. One is about the level and quality of assistance I rendered to you, and the other is about your stay in our kingdom in general. If you could fill them out and just drop them off in the box here,� he pointed to a small locked box with a slot in the top under the window, �I would greatly appreciate it. It�s completely confidential of course, so answer honestly. It�s the only way we can offer the best possible service. Thank you for visiting Faraway. Enjoy your stay, and if you have any other questions, please don�t hesitate to ask.� And with that, the bald, bespectacled man retreated back into the window, pulling the shutters tight behind him. For a moment, Joe simply stared in amazement, somewhat stupefied over the bizarre conversation. He stared blankly at the parchment grasped in his hand, and then back at the now-shuttered window. Shaking his head once more, He turned around slowly once again, took two steps and whirled back around to face the shuttered window again, just in case. He had been half afraid the window would open again and the bald, bespectacled man would ask him if he would like to fill out an application for credit so he could save five percent on all of his purchases in the kingdom, or some such nonsense. But the window remained thankfully shuttered, and the bald, bespectacled man was nowhere in sight, so Joe almost RAN away up the street. When he was, (hopefully,) out of earshot of the bald, bespectacled man�s building, he slowed to a more leisurely pace to take in his surroundings. And since he was quite large, and wearing a hooded cloak, he didn�t want to make people nervous about his presence there by calling attention to himself. Looking around, he noticed that everyone he passed was wearing that same stupidly-happy expression that the bald, bespectacled man had had plastered on his face. People smiled warmly at him in greeting, while others grinned foolishly and bid him a good day. A sneaking suspicion started creeping into Joe�s consciousness that this entire kingdom was on drugs. One particularly happy, not to mention attractive woman ran across the street upon spying him, which was not unusual, but she was running towards him, which was. She was carrying a plate of fresh muffins, the steam still radiating from them, and when she stopped in front of him she asked, with a completely straight face, �Have you tasted of my wares, good sir?� Joe blinked at her. She smiled at him coyly, suggestively. Joe blinked again. She offered up the plate of muffins. Understanding dawned on Joe. He mumbled a refusal to her, noting that the too-happy look never left her face, even as she wished him well for the day, and turned around and skipped away. Joe continued on his way, still wondering if there was something in the water, and hoping he didn�t catch it. He noticed a blacksmith�s shop, and stopped to admire a sword hanging on a rack under the awning. He pulled the sword out and hefted it, admiring the beauty and craftsmanship of it. Taking a few careful swings, he noticed the attractive woman with the muffins running across the street towards him. Groaning, he turned around just in time to see the blacksmith coming out the door towards him, the same happy-yet-idiotic expression on his face. The two reached him at the same moment. �Excuse me sir. Have you tasted of my wares?� asked the muffin lady. �Good day, sir. Lookin� for a sword, are ya?� asked the smith. The muffin lady and the blacksmith looked at each other. Joe looked back and forth between the two of them. The muffin lady and the blacksmith broke out into giggles at the same instant. Joe felt a small spot behind his left eye begin to throb. The muffin lady and the blacksmith tried to regain control of themselves, and each urged the other to go first. They then broke out into fresh fits of laughter. Joe felt a small spot behind his right eye join his left in throbbing. �Ma�am,� Joe interrupted firmly. �I am not interested in a muffin at this time. Thank you very much for the offer. Good day.� Still smiling, the muffin lady opened her mouth again, but Joe quickly cut her off. �Good DAY, ma�am.� He turned to the blacksmith. �Sir,� he said, �how much for this sword? I find the craftsmanship in it outstanding, and I have need of a new blade. It is for sale, isn�t it?� He pointedly ignored the still-smiling muffin lady as she bid him farewell for the second time in ten minutes and wandered back in the direction of her bakery. �Well sir, that is a mighty fine sword you have there. Superb craftsmanship. First rate all the way. Yessir, it sure is a beauty,� said the blacksmith. Joe was starting to get irritated. �I already said that. I was asking�� But the blacksmith continued as if Joe hadn�t spoken. �I know a thing or two about swords, sir. I make them myself y�see, and I can tell that one there took quite a bit of work.� The blacksmith looked Joe right in the eye. �How much do you want for it?� Joe�s mouth hung open. A fly buzzed by and thought this might make a simply fabulous place to live. Joe�s mouth snapped shut. �IT�S YOUR SWORD!� he cried in exasperation. �Oh no, sir! I couldn�t possibly accept such a gift! Why, it must be worth more than everything in my shop!� He pulled out a coin purse, peering inside at the contents. �How about ten silver crowns? It seems low to me, but you appear to be a generous fellow.� Joe was reasonably certain that this idiot HAD to notice the steam coming out of his ears. How could anybody be this stupid and still walk upright? It seemed inconceivable to Joe, yet there was the living proof right there in front of him. �Blacksmith,� Joe started again, more firmly this time, attempting to keep his anger under control. �This sword already belongs to you. I picked it up from this rack right here,� he gestured to the rack of weapons. �I am trying to ask�� That was as far as he got, when the blacksmith cried out, �MINE? You�re trying to STEAL it! THIEF! THIEF!� Joe snapped. �I AM TRYING TO BUY IT FROM YOU, YOU IMBECILE!� With some effort, he regained his temper, and continued more calmly, although still firmly. I was trying to ask how much YOU want for it. I assumed it was for sale. Is this the case or not?� The blacksmith ceased his shouting. �I made this you say? Why, I DO remember now! Thank you, sir. A less honorable fellow would simply have scampered off with it, but not you sir! No! You were honest about it, and I must confess I admire that.� From the distance came the sound of booted feet marching in unison, coming closer. �For you, sir, and for your honesty, I�ll sell it for a mere 25 silver crowns. A bargain!� �A minute ago it was only worth TEN silvers,� growled Joe. He hated being cheated. �Ah, but sir! If it costs me ten, I can hardly sell it for that, can I? I do need to make a little profit. I have a family to feed, after all. 20 silvers.� �But it DIDN�T cost you ten.� Joe loved to haggle, but he could hear the booted feet of the guards coming closer, and figured he would be needing this sword soon, unfortunately. �15 silvers, my best and final offer.� He pulled the coins from a purse on his belt, counting them out carefully. The blacksmith looked at Joe skeptically. Clearly he thought the sword worth more, so Joe decided he needed a little extra incentive, even though he knew what he planned would cause him problems. He normally hated doing this during a negotiation, but time was of the essence here. �How about 15 silvers and I don�t EAT you,� he growled as he pulled back his hood. The effect was immediate, and pretty much what he had expected. He was, after all, a troll. The blacksmith gasped and took several steps backwards, tripping over his own feet in the process. Staring wide-eyed up at Joe he started babbling almost incoherently about Joe taking whatever he wanted, just don�t eat him. And the marching of the guards was coming nearer with every passing second. Any moment they would appear around the corner and catch sight of the troll holding the sword, towering over one of the kingdom�s citizens cowering on the ground. �GET UP!� roared Joe. �I am NOT going to eat you, and I am NOT going to rob you. I said I wish to purchase this sword, and that�s what I meant. Stop behaving like a scolded dog. Stand up so we can do business like civilized beings.� Joe reached out to help the blacksmith up, and of course that was the precise moment the guards came around the corner. They took one look at the troll towering over the cowering blacksmith and immediately jumped to all the wrong conclusions. They drew their swords and ran towards him. There were only six of them, and Joe could have easily flattened them, but that wasn�t what he was here for. There wasn�t much chance of explaining the misunderstanding to the guards, but there would be NO chance of explaining to ANYONE if he killed them. He was looking for work, and unnecessary killings would put his employment opportunities in serious jeopardy. So as the guards formed a half-circle around him, Joe did the one thing they were definitely not expecting; he dropped the sword and held his hands out to the side. �DROP YOUR WEAPON!� The Captain of the Guard was a by-the-book fellow, and the book said he was supposed to bellow orders. And naturally the first order was for the suspect to drop their weapons. The other guards looked at the Captain, then at the dropped sword resting at Joe�s feet, and back at the Captain. The Captain looked at the dropped sword, and then at Joe. The silence was deafening. �Um,� said the Captain of the Guard. �Uh�,� said Joe. �Hands where I can see them,� said the Captain of the Guard. �You didn�t bellow that time,� said Joe, �and you should already be able to see my hands.� Joe waved his hands even further out to the side. The guards all grasped their swords tighter when the giant, hideous troll moved even that slight bit, and Joe knew it was going to be one of THOSE things. �Look, why don�t we help this fellow here up,� Joe indicated the blacksmith still lying perfectly still at his feet. �I�m sure he can help clear this up.� And then I can maybe pay for this sword, and get the hell out of this insane town, he thought. �DON�T MOVE!� bellowed the Captain of the Guard. �Better. At least you remembered to bellow this time.� Joe decided that he was going to have a little fun with this imbecile. If he couldn�t simply kill them, at least he could mess with their heads a bit. And it would be all that much more fun, since they wouldn�t see that coming from a troll. The Captain of the Guard moved to help the blacksmith up, pointedly ignoring Joe. �I was just trying to buy this sword from the gentlemen, and he fell when my hood dropped. I am, after all, a troll, and somewhat hideous even FOR a troll. I realize and acknowledge this, and when you cam around the corner at the most unfortunate of times, I was simply trying to help him to his feet. It�s a simple misunderstanding, as I�m sure the gentleman can attest to.� �QUIET!� The Captain of the Guard was really getting the hang of this bellowing thing. The blacksmith spoke up from where he was still sprawled in the dirt. �No, sir. The troll is correct. Looking back upon the incident, he was trying to purchase the sword from me. I was merely startled, and clumsy enough to fall. But I would LOVE to sell the�er�gentlething that sword, for the bargain price of twenty silvers. If he�s still interested, of course.� The blacksmith smiled what he thought was an endearing smile, and the Captain of the Guard, although dubious, helped him up. �WELL, TROLL? DO YOU HAVE AN AGREEMENT WITH THIS MAN OR NOT?� The Captain of the Guard was taking the bellowing thing a bit too far now. �OR DO I HAVE TO TAKE YOU TO THE KING AND YOU CAN TELL HIM YOUR STORY? �First, the King was who I was on my way to see anyway, when I noticed this blacksmith�s extraordinary work. So I�m gonna want to go there anyway, but we�ll get back to that in a minute. Second, yes, I am still interested in buying the sword, for the FIFTEEN silvers that we were about to agree upon,� he glared at the blacksmith. �Third, kindly ask your men to put their swords away, as there is no one here to fight them today. I�m certainly not going to. And last, but certainly not least,� Joe leaned closer to the Captain of the Guard, �STOP BELLOWING!!!!� Joe roared, shaking nearby trees and causing one of the guards to drop there sword with an awful clang. �YOU�RE TAKING IT TOO FAR!!!� The Captain of the Guard shrank back from the apparently furious troll and tripped over the blacksmith he was in the midst of helping up, sending them both sprawling back to the ground in a heap. The other guards immediately took a keen interest in the surrounding buildings, giving their Captain a moment to extricate himself from the tangle of arms and legs he found himself in. �Now,� Joe continued when the Captain had helped himself and the blacksmith to their feet, since I was on my way to see the King anyway, what say I finish my business with the blacksmith here, and then you and your most excellent men escort me to the palace? After all, the day IS getting on, and none of us is getting any younger.� Before the Captain of the Guard could respond, a young man stepped forward from the crowd that had been gathering around them. �Actually sir, uh�Mr. Troll, uh...� stammered the young man, �I uh�I have a potion here that actually COULD make you younger. And for only 200 silver�� Joe�s massive arm shot out and the young man fell like a stone. �Well?� he asked. �I have FIFTEEN silver crowns here,� he looked at the blacksmith pointedly. �Do we have a deal?� The blacksmith looked at the guards, and at Joe, and around at the crowd, and back at Joe, then at the sword, and finally back at Joe. Joe just grinned. The blacksmith sighed. �Fifteen it is. That seems more than fair, considering my first offer.� Joe�s grin grew broader as he handed the blacksmith the coins. �Don�t worry, blacksmith! As soon as people hear of this, and see the magnificence of this blade, you won�t be able to keep them away. And even at fifteen silvers, you will make yourself a tidy little fortune! Now, I thank you and bid you good day!� �Uh�� said the Captain of the Guard. Joe looked at him. The guard�s knees felt a little weak, since Joe was now armed with a sword far superior to theirs. �Yes?� Joe prompted. �Well, uh�that is�� The Captain of the Guard regained some of his composure. �You still have to accompany us to see the king, sir,� he finally managed to stammer. �Of course. I told you that was where I was headed anyway.� Joe waved his arm in the general direction of the castle. �Lead on, oh great and courageous warrior!� Laughing at his little joke, and bracing himself for the onslaught of stupidity he knew he was going to encounter, he fell into step behind the Captain of the Guard, acutely conscious of the rest of the guards falling in behind him. It�s going to be one of those days, Joe thought as he trudged up the street with the guards. |