THE TROLL THAT JOURNEYED THROUGH TIME
A long long time ago lived a troll right on the edge of the great forest Moorsfest; it looked out northwards to the mountain range Raasvoarsberg. Off in the distance the mountains had a mysterious blue look to them ominous but also beautiful, the troll’s name was Snø troll as he was born in the depths of winter long ago. It is believed roughly eight hundred years ago, from what tales of these regions could tell. He dwelt underneath roots of vast pines that shot up into the sky, his home was cavernous with many rooms he was a fairly big troll so he needed the room. He preferred his own company and did not like the interference of others especially people! Snø troll would wander deep into the forest hunting wild boar and other creatures and spend time talking to the trees as he went about his business, he had long black matted hair a large snout. And large pointy ears of which he had great hearing. Massive hands that he had used to make his home, and a long tail that was furry too, he wore a rough woollen cloak of dark colours and a long woven tunic with intricate designs with runes written into them about times of old.
Snø troll had seen many changes in his long life down in the valley at a place called Midvaard, were the men of the south stayed. Things for the most part had been harmonious mainly because the people were not aware of his existence, the odd man or woman had been scared to death by the troll’s bark on occasion but that was about it. However what saddened him the most was all the trees that had been cut down to build the village of Midvaard. Its ominous stave church that appeared to dominate the landscape and its dreaded ringing bells that chimed out each day, and all the small houses that made up the settlement. These trees had been known to Snø troll age old trees with gnarly bark and fathomless roots lost forever to build mans church, when the troll felt exceptionally melancholic about this he would wander further into the forest. To think deeply about the misgivings of the folk of Midvaard, and talk to the trees about all the needless loss this took him a long time as these discussions went back a long way almost out of memory. Not for the Sitka spruce or the Oak or for that matter the troll, nearby was a large lake of deep green looking water overhanging on its shore were many trees. The water was deep and cool many creatures lived here and some known to Snø troll, it was tranquil and peaceful here no people he would on occasion meet other troll’s and debate the problem of the men folk. The troll’s had not forgot the time before the people arrived and how peaceful it had been, there had been uprisings the troll’s had stormed Midvaard to rid the valley and forest of men folk. This had not been fruitful as the people still stayed, they would sit quietly and remember the old times when it was their world alone. Looking up into the night sky and gaze at the stars with a deep pendulous blue and not have to engage in nocturnal attacks and being pushed further into the forest, and in winter look at the alluring Northern Lights. The wonder of this magical site all the forest dwellers would look up awe struck with the display of the haunting green lights above. This could still be done of course but with the knowledge that folk were around, they also hunted in the forest taking more than they needed. They were greedy and loud! Although some of them never made it back to their village, as the troll’s and the trees would trick them so that they would get hopelessly lost. One particular day two brothers met a grizzly end arrogant they were and eager for hunting, they made so much noise it was surprise that they caught anything. Their names were Odd & Tulla they praised themselves on how clever they were in their hunting prowess and would boast about their escapades, this particular day they had caught more than their share of things. Greedy men they were, loud and boisterous laughing and joking as they went. It was just before dawn and Snø troll had been hunting himself and seeing old troll friends of his, he walked along a well-worn track that he knew. He could here Odd & Tulla long before he saw them, around a large tree stood the men frozen to the spot. The troll loomed over them his eyes penetrated into them, the troll stood over them Odd & Tulla speechless their bragging had dissipated and looked fearful horror struck they dropped their catch and ran howling Snø troll let out a large chuckle to himself frightening people was fun! This was a little strange as a lot of men that the troll had encountered were often confrontational, and would try and goad the troll but he was to smart and wise for such foolishness. He was surprised by their actions he had seen these two men before causing an awful disturbance were ever they went. So off he went back to his home, there was a warm glow still in the hearth a golden orange, he put a couple more logs on the fire and retreated to his chamber and bed which was carved out of the roots of the trees. There were runes scribed into them telling stories of long ago with the wandering soothsayer Laarg, whom he had known for ages and ages. Laarg would come threw at least once a year and spend time with the troll, and inform him of all the goings on in the mountains of Raasvoarsberg. Grimmodhr Troll was a fierce troll he had the knowledge of metallurgy and made hammers and swords, an known for his skill in this lore. His furnaces burned bright in his cave under the great mountains, he had mined deep into the very depths of the earth. His hammers and swords were beautiful and splendid and held in high regard among the folk of this age-old land, of trolls and goblins and wizards. Snø troll knew him but slept on in a deep sleep and dreamt of older times before the people came, when he could just here the sounds of the forest and the birds singing on the plain all in harmony with nature. Long before the felling of ancient trees and diminishing the forest boundaries, it was a constant battle between men and the trolls of the forest. He awoke at dusk the forest was settling down and its nocturnal creatures were beginning to stir, and he could see the setting sun away in the west a melting orange sphere. Into a deepening Neptune sky. Owls could be heard overhead, in the highest trees as darkness was upon the woods. A light wind stirred the trees blowing gently, with the quick passing of time everything became gloomy and blackened and shapes blurred. Our troll surfaced and still a little puzzled by the reaction of Odd and Tulla, it was not their usual behaviour. So Snø Troll began to descend further in a long walk to the falls and the hear The Fossegrimen play his haunting laments on the violin, the troll could listen for hours as he played it would help him think. Pondering among his many thoughts he knew something was going on, so he pondered on this for hours. As the violin played on and the murk from the waters permeated around, as time went on battles between the men and trolls and other woodland creatures. Over long periods of time more of the forest was destroyed by the folk of Midvaard and other areas that became populated, the age-old forest was heavily denuded and its inhabitants were forced back further in to what remained of Moorsfest. Some of the trolls and goblins went to the mountains, owls and other birds all fled as the ancient trees were torn down. A bereft time and our troll remaining saddened by what he saw over hundreds of years, of persecution and war now well over a millennia later here he still dwells. Looking down on the modern town of Midvaard, with its streetlights and cars and noise and still the stave church with its steep spire. An Snøtroll retreat back to his home ever changing by mans interference. All the stories were gradually being forgotten, our troll remembered them. The melancholy that now filled him was overwhelming, and his home always moving and gradually growing more still with time. Still upon dark nights in midwinter gazing at the Aurora Borealis, its flowing light of wonderful colours majestically haunting above. However the desire for Snøtroll to plunder the town of Midvaard were sadly gone, he would go by quietly on his way along the dwindling forest path.