Trolls Bergens Characters Novels & Stories

A servant boy drops the box he was holding and dives beneath one of the carriages, trembling. The stench of fear rises around me as we all simultaneously retreat. But trolls keep coming. They are massive, twice the height of any man, their bodies made of something that looks like living stone. Moss clings to their shoulders, and their eyes glow faintly like burning embers. Each step they take makes the earth groan. “Stay back!” one of the knights barks, drawing his sword. “I don't think they are going to listen to him,” Pip whispers, poking her head from my scarf.

The trolls spoke their own language, and it was unlike anything I’d heard before. Their voices were deep and gravelly. They chatted among themselves and pretended not to understand me when I spoke, but I knew very well that they could. The smallest one was on my left, and seemed very taken with me. He was the only one who looked friendly, and eventually he started talking. I knew it! I knew they could understand me. “Tell me about trolls,” I asked. I’d found out his name was Cory and his dad was the leader of this clan. “How do you shape-shift?”

The sparse tufts of sickly grey grass made the whole land look even gloomier. Yet, as in all things in life, nature found perfect tenants. Trolls. They were huge creatures with thick grey skin that you could easily mistake for a stone and with big shiny diamond shaped eyes. They looked scary, and yet there was some inexplicable beauty in them. But the trolls were not the only inhabitants of Canestor. Deep underground there were whole cities decorated with gold and jewels, cities of the dwarves.

Brand asked the older man called Birger, pointing discreetly with his elbow. Birger chuckled as if he had been told a joke and moved his eyes to take in the man standing under the lean - to next to one of the chicken coops. "He is no one," he answered, shrugging a shoulder. "Just a thrall. I think he is one of the pitiful clan that tries to hide in the sea caves. They get caught regularly trying to steal our food." He shrugged again as if it were of no consequence. "At least here they are fed and have a roof over their heads."

The princess, barely nineteen, rounded as the moon in the belly with the promised child, exchanged a blood red rose – the goddess Freida's heart of hearts - to the towering rood of a Troll Queen. The begresar was like an infernal stain on the night, tall as a horse, double jointed, a mix of lion, ram, and ox and bat. Still, she was a friendly sight for Arcadia's queen, who had little allies left. After all, they had been bosom companions in their youth, she princess of the Northern Holds, Jarngrimr princess of Utgardr before her mother Sithgunt retreated into her Seeress keep in the mountains, making Jarngrimr queen.

Troll Camp The dark shadows of the night were not demons; they were men. But they were not completely the same type of men that Robah, the river troll, and all their species produced. They appeared more apelike. However, they seemed to walk straight but were hairier than normal, with a stocky, vigorous musculature and pronounced brows and jaws. They wore animal skins and wreaths assembled from the competition they hunted, thus forging the misconception of magical inhabitants in the night.

It takes me a full two minutes before I understand what I’m seeing. As I watch, trolls begin pulling themselves from the walls of the cliffs. They stand, stretching is if they have been in the same position for too long. Rocks and boulders fall off their bodies, tumbling into the water beneath them. When they are done, there are ten trolls standing in the ravine and the gap has extended making it more of a gorge than a ravine. Shengis is hugging a troll that looks like a female. Another one coming up to him, embracing him. Haijen is also hugging what I think is a female troll.

They were not that big but they were rolling down like they were being thrown at them. They stopped and looked at these rocks. They rolled down until they got to them, one ran over Ambrosia’s foot making him hiss in pain. When they stopped suddenly, they popped heads and feet appeared. They were Trolls. “Apologies if we scared you, my king.” One of them said. “They were really not lying when they said you guys look ugly,” Ambrosia said making Luka laugh, and the Trolls glare at him. He was still angry about being run over by one of them.

The pack moved cautiously, alert but undeterred. After several hours of walking, the group suddenly came to a halt as a rustling sound echoed through the trees ahead. Without hesitation, they fell into defensive stances, the wolves baring their teeth and the humans drawing their weapons. Emerging from the darkness were several towering figures—trolls, their massive forms lumbering into the moonlight. Damien’s heart pounded, his body tensing as he prepared for an attack. The trolls were enormous, with thick, gray skin and long arms that swung by their sides, but instead of charging, they stopped at a distance and raised their hands in a peaceful gesture.

Then he expanded, “But then if we both killed him, that would make it five and a half to four and a half. Don't you think so?” They arrived at the trolls and snapped out of their friendly altercation as Anna vanished the fire that protected them. “I am starving. Let us eat something,” mumbled Anna. "Why am I not surprised?" "And why are you such a jerk, David? I'm bloody hungry." Trozan stepped backward fearfully. Anna paused, then chuckled, “...Hey. Fret not my friend trolley dear, we are not going to eat you. We! Truth be told, we would not even eat those feral. Ew! Disgusting really.”