Sorry, it's been a bit since I've got out a new story but here's one I came up with. R & R, please!
Once upon a time two dwarves decided to go on a holiday jaunt. They decided they want to go to the humans' land and see what they could see. One was the brother of the other, named Torl. The other brother, the younger, was named Borl.
Now Torl was quite handsome, as far as dwarves went. He was tall,- almost three foot five,- brave, had fantastic red hair, and a trimmed beard that he kept braided. His clothes he took care of, almost as well as he took care of his amazing sword Trollbane.
His brother, on the other hand, was rather round. Quite the opposite of his brother, Torl. Borl had little hair on top of his head, while he had a wild black beard that always had something in it,- be it his last meal or something of the sort-, and wore rough clothing. His weapon of choice, not surprisingly, resembled an oversized fork. He called it Spork.
Now Torl and Borl were traveling along the road towards the human land called Homosapienus. They were having a grand time, riding their ponies along the road as they remembered old tales that their great-great-grandfather had passed down. They were having such a good time, in fact, that they didn't notice the big sign that said, BEWARE OF TROLLS, as they passed by.
Borl had just been recounting the tale of Burglebaster, the feasting king of dwarves, fighting against hordes of goblins with only a table knife as his weapon, when he smelled something. "Brother," he said as he pulled his pony to a halt, "do you smell something?"
Torl, who had been completely focused on his brother's story and not the road ahead, stopped his own mount and sniffed. He shrugged. "I'm not sure. What is it I'm supposed to smell?"
Borl shrugged. "I don't know. Guess it was my imagination." He said and urged his pony forward.
But Torl, being more of a warrior than his brother, grabbed Borl's reigns and halted his brother's pony. "Let me check the road ahead first, alright?" He asked.
Borl, being a really nice dwarf, agreed good-naturedly. "Alright, brother. I'll rest in the shade and get a snack till you return." He said as he dismounted.
Torl slid Trollbane from its scabbard and went ahead on foot.
Borl took the ponies off the road; he was quite a bright fellow, before he ate his snack. He sat down beneath a tree near the road to wait for his brother and possibly stop any other travelers from going down the road.
Borl rested in the shade and proceeded to eat an apple, two oranges, a leg of turkey, a hunk of cheese and down two mugs of beer before his brother came back. "What did you see?" Borl asked, sitting up.
"A big nasty troll." Torl said, his face grim. "We could have just come upon him without warning. Good thing you smelled him."
Borl nodded. "Indeed." He shivered at the thought of coming across a troll. Borl wasn't fast on his feet, he left that sort of thing to Torl. But he was fast with food and wit. "Shall we go around him and let him be?"
Torl shook his head. "The troll has a prisoner."
His brother's eyes widened. "Oh. Poor creature. What is it?"
"An elf." Torl said, slowly. Borl had a bit of an issue with elves because one had commented on his immense girth and insulted Borl's tender emotions. Torl wasn't sure his brother would risk his life for an elf.
Borl sighed. "An elf! Humph! Silly, dimwitted, flighty, creatures. Not surprising one of them got snagged." He huffed.
"But he also has captured a rabbit and a cat." Torl said, not wanting to leave the elf or the animals to the troll.
Borl perked up at that. "He does?! The monster!" He growled. "Let's go get him!"
Torl put up a hand and stopped his brother from rushing headlong into the fray of battle. "Wait, wait. We need to do this smart." He said.
Borl nodded. "What do we do?"
The troll was not happy. He had gone two weeks without a proper meal. He had actually stumbled across the elf as the unlucky creature was putting up a sign on the road that very morning and so was quite pleased.
He had captured the rabbit and cat earlier, planning to cook them in a small stew, but now decided that they would do good as appetizers.
The troll, Devin, muttered to himself as he looked around the area his cave resided in for herbs to mix with his elf-rabbit-cat meal.
He came, much to his surprise, upon a dwarf. "Hello." The dwarf said, grinning up at him. "Do you have anything to eat? I'm hungry."
Devin looked down at the dwarf, not sure what to do. After all he was used to two legged creatures taking one look at him and running away screaming for 'mummy', whatever that meant.
"Uh. . ." He said, thickly. His poor small little brain was still working on 'mummy' when the dwarf spoke again.
"Mind if I join you?" The dwarf asked, pleasantly.
"Yes. Yes." Devin said, still trying to figure out what to do next. His poor brain was overworking as it was. First cooking, then herbs, and now a dwarf, and then how did mummy get into the works?
"Thanks." The dwarf sauntered into the camp and sat down. He noticed the elf hanging unconscious upside down with her feet tied to the branch of a tree. "Ah, a little fresh meat today? Lucky." He said.
The troll nodded, going over to his fire to stir the boiling cauldron that contained an unmentionably gross liquid that the dwarf wasn't sure he could, or would want, to identify. "Ye-ah. Sh'e was puttin' up a sign. Crafty ol' elf!" He spat.
The dwarf agreed. "Yes, they are rather crafty aren't they? I bet she tried to get away. But you outsmarted her, didn't you?" The dwarf asked.
"Aye, they think they are so smart with their cute little bows and arrers and thingies!" the troll cackled. "Yet I comes along and smacks her with a rock in the back of the 'ead and she's out like a light!"
Torl, for it was him, momentarily hoped that he wasn't risking his life for an elf that was already dead. Borl would really throw a fit about that.
"You like to cook?" Torl asked, preparing for part two of his plan since part one had made such a good start.
"Aye, but I don't knows hows to spice elves well. They's so difficult to cook without their meat getting' all stringsy." Devin complained.
"My brother could help." Torl said, rather kindly. "I'm not at all good with cooking and stuff, more the gutting and preparing, but Borl could really help you with it." He insisted.
"Where's this Borl?" Devin asked, quite pleased.
"He's right behind you." Torl said, standing up. "Why don't I get the elf all ready to cook?"
Devin turned and sure enough, Borl was there. "Oy, is 'e going to eat too?" He asked, rather jealous of his food.
"Nah, he's a vegetarian." Torl walked over to the tree and climbed up it rather quickly.
Borl, rather peeved at being called a vegetarian when he was more correctly an omnivore, cleared his throat. "I would suggest fetching clean water."
Devin didn't like this chubby dwarf. He could eat food on the sly. "Then 'ou go get it!" He said, peevishly.
Torl, now up the tree, cut down the elf who promptly fell with a wince worthy WHUMP to the ground. "Just getting this meat ready!" He called over to Devin.
Devin, now thoroughly confused, sat down. "Awright, awright, awright!" he put his head in his hands and moaned into them. "Nasty ol' sunlight's 'urtin' me eyes!"
"Why don't you get a nap and we'll make the meal for you?" Borl asked, as he freed the cat and the rabbit.
"Yeah, it'll be done by sundown when it's nice and dark." Torl insisted.
Devin, quite ready to be done with the entire mess, agreed. "Good idea. I's just gonna take a few winks. . ." he yawned and went into his cave. Two seconds later, he was asleep. Much to Borl's annoyance. It took him forever to get to sleep, since he was always hungry.
But two minutes later and both the dwarves and those they rescued were long gone.
Borl was still sniggering in delight when the elf woke up. She was very pretty, despite being hit in the back of the head, hung upside down by her feet, and then dropped to the ground on her already injured head.
Torl dressed her wounds and Borl glowered at her from his seat by the fire. They figured it was safe, they were quite a ways away from Devin and they doubted he'd wake till dark.
By that time, they'd be on the move again.
But for now, the elf needed a few minutes of recovery time. She seemed rather nice, almost normal. Yet Borl kept his distance. He preferred to take care of the rabbit and cat. They had minimal injuries, dealing with only dehydration and the odd scratch.
The elf, she said her name was Viala, was surprised to find out that she had been captured by a troll. "I didn't even hear him." She said in wonder. "How did he do it?"
Torl shrugged. "I've got no idea. He said he got you when you were putting up a sign."
"Oh, that!" Viala sat up in a hurry but a dizzy spell hit her and she put a hand to her forehead to steady herself. "It was a temporary sign until we could take care of it." She said, her voice rather quivery.
"Are there more of you nearby?" Borl growled.
"Yes." Viala shook her head to clear it of dizziness and looked over at Borl. "Why? Do you have something against us?"
In reply, Borl merely grunted.
Torl, rather uncomfortable in the growingly tense atmosphere, spoke for his brother. "He was insulted most rudely by an elf. He doesn't care for you or your people." He explained sheepishly.
Understanding filled Viala's face. "Ah. Well, what is the name of the elf that insulted my rescuers?"
Torl shrugged. "Some guy named Archiosh. Borl eats more than most elves do and Archiosh commented on the fact and my brother's girth."
Viala's face was stern and she nodded. "I know Archiosh. A thoughtless person, cruel, and pompous. No wonder your brother does not care for my kind. Unfortunately," she turned to Borl who had been listening to the conversation with acute interest, "my people find the other sentient beings rather different in appearance and like to tease. It is not a kind thing, but not all of us are like that. I find you a kind and thoughtful person. Both of you." She said. "I apologize for my kinsmen and pray that you bear us no more ill will."
Borl, quite surprised at her reaction, blustered and blushed and nodded. "I accept your apologies. I apologize myself, I shouldn't have judged your people by one elf."
Torl was rather pleased. It was becoming quite a nice night. "'Ew lied!" A voice said from behind him. Turning slowly, afraid of what he would see there, Torl was hidden within the shadow of Devin. "'Ew said that 'ew were gonna cook tha elf fer me." He grumbled.
Torl, not sure what to do, went along with the troll. "You're right." He said.
Borl reached for the nearest weapon to try to save his brother from the almost certain wrath of Devin but he never needed it.
Devin sat down and began to sob piteously as big fat tears ran down his face. "It ain't fair!" He hiccupped between sobs. "I's gotta be big an' bad an' cruel an' I ain't none of those." He wiped his nose on his arm and left a trail of snot.
Borl took out his handkerchief and held it out to the troll. "Use this." He said kindly.
It seemed the great big troll was not as dangerous as they had assumed.
"An' dat ain't even the worst part." Devin moaned sadly. "I's 'ungry and the wrotten ol' elves won't let me be! I's just wants some deer or soup!" He blew into the tissue, utterly soaking the piece of cloth that looked ridiculous in his large hands. He handed it back to Borl, who turned a pretty shade of green.
"I see." Viala stood up and went to the dwarves food bags. "Well," she said as she rummaged around until she found what she wanted and turned back to the troll, "I apologize for the sign. I thought you were like other trolls." She held out a loaf of bread.
"What is it?" Devin asked eyeing the bread cautiously.
"Bread. Good wholesome dwarvish bread. Nothing like it, not even our elvish bread can compare." She said, ripping off a piece and eating it to show the troll that it was safe. She held out the rest. "Try some."
Devin, not sure what to do in his rather awkward situation, took it and ate it. "It tastes weird." He said with a full mouth.
"It's stale." Torl said apologetically. "We can make a regular feast, if you wish."
Devin perked up. "Whatcha gonna make?" He asked.
"Hm. Brother?" Torl turned to Borl.
"I can whip up some eggs, toast- Oh, you ate that. Hm. Well, no toast, but bacon, and use the leftovers for quiche. How does that sound?"
Devin nodded rather pleased.
So Borl cooked eggs, bacon, and used what flour and ingredients they had left to make a quiche. The odd four-some enjoyed the meal quite happily together. The animals they set free to fend for themselves.
"That was nice. Thank you." Viala said, sighing in content once the meal was over.
Devin, who was now very pleased and full, burped. "Ah. . ." he sighed. "I likes dwarves."
"Thank you." Torl said with a grin as he washed the pot in the stream near them.
"Not 'ew." Devin sniffed, offended. "I was talkin' to tha chef." He said, nodding to Borl.
Borl chuckled. "Thanks. Say, would you like to come with us? Both of you?" He asked, nodding toward Viala.
Devin cocked his head. "Where ya goin?" He asked.
"To the human lands." Torl said.
"Ah ain't goin' there!" Devin said firmly. "They tried to kill me and put me 'ead on a stake! I left and now I'm 'ere."
"Oh." Borl said, rather fond of the tender-hearted troll. "Well, maybe we can stay with you." He offered.
Devin perked up. "Aye, that would be nice."
Viala grinned. "I'd like to visit." She hinted.
"Good. Then it's settled. Torl and I'll stay here with you," He said to Devin," and Viala can visit for tea and scones. What do you say?"
Devin grinned from ear to ear, quite a sight since trolls don't often grin or brush their teeth. "I likes that very much."
And they lived happily ever after, eating scones and drinking tea.