Trolls Painter Novels & Stories

I picked up a few small bobble head turtles for the girls at work. Outside the stalls an artist sat on the street corner in paint splattered shorts and t-shirt painting ocean landscapes. They were simple in nature, but Trey was taken by them. The clipped pace he'd been leading down the main road slowed until we passed the area with small canvases lining the street. At the last piece, Trey turned and started back toward the artist with me on his heels.

The seer fired back making everyone laugh. “Trolls are not violent dear seer, they are the same as your kind, they are not violent, but it doesn’t mean that there won’t be any rotten potatoes in a sack. Like you.” The troll elder fired back as well but before the seer could say anything else Tia chanted a spell and sealed his mouth. “You should have done that a long time ago.” The troll elder said to Tia.

I asked him. “Who? Oh, you mean the zombies.” Trolls weren’t too bothered about political correctness, it seemed. “Of course. Normally they send two of their own, but you were sent in their stead. To be honest with you, they rarely pose much of a challenge. Oh they try their best, I mean they have to or everyone they know and love will be killed, but they aren’t the most athletic of people.” Yes, I thought, everyone they know and love would be killed by you.

The Trolls were lined up in front of Edmund, ready to take any order. "You're wrong, brother. I never give up, remember?" Edmund in the back chuckled as he played with his golden wand. "You're wrong too, Edwig. I'm better than you, and always will be!" Wiggy didn't answer again, only smiling crookedly as he pulled out his flute. "ATTACK!" Without warning, Edmund exclaimed as he raised his golden staff. The Trolls bellowed in unison at Wiggy, but the youth's agility overcame them. He flew into the air playing the flute. The next instant a pack of Pixies came like a high tide. The Pixies lunged at the Trolls and swarmed them.

he shouted, waving his three-fingered hand in dismissal. As he spoke, I looked back to talk to Ryden, but she was no longer at my side. Neither was Envy. The pixilette was a way off, near the battleground, hovering anxiously over something. I couldn't see Envy. "Where did she go?" I searched the sky, worry twisting my insides. I hoped she was okay. The trolls cared little for other creatures, especially when they were in the throes of battle. "This is of the utmost importance. I cannot wait." His shrewd eyes studied me. The trolls looked dumber than rocks. Early on, I discovered that deception was one of their greatest weapons. They were actually quite competent, especially in the art of war

Like we were just two guys, no mafia bullshit hanging over my head. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice light, “how was class? Learning how to paint masterpieces or something?” He chuckled, a soft sound that eased the knot in my chest. “Art history, actually. Today was about Renaissance masters. Da Vinci, Michelangelo. All that tortured genius stuff.” “Tortured, huh?” I glanced at him, smirking. “Sounds familiar.” His cheeks flushed a little, and he looked away, biting his lip. “Yeah? You don’t strike me as the artistic type.”

"These are the trolls. They love singing and eating. Their life revolves in partying and sleeping. Also, they are known for being fond of anything sparkling, and so they used to hoard large amounts of gold and silver. Laying one's hands on these treasures is one of the chief rewards for getting the better of them." Professor Morgan started his lesson with a brief introduction about the background of Trolls. According to him, the reason why these trolls were kept in an underground chamber is for their own safety. Trolls have one fatal weakness, and that is the sun. Apparently, when a troll was exposed to sunlight it will immediately be turned into a stone. Being a lover of music and arts in n

Ella had found his weakness. " I don't believe you are all that bad." Ella sweetly placed the rose being her ear. She could see the troll was touched by her gesture. " I am Raval the destroyer. I conquer villages. I have pillaged and plundered treasures and great fortune. I am a pirate of the land." The troll roared. " Keep it down. Do you want to attract attention." Ella placed a finger on her lip. "Sorry." The troll whispered. " I believe that you did that on someone else's command and not your own. If you were that ruthless, I would be in a rope by now." Ella pressed the topic.

“Trolls! Welcome our latest victims—did I say victims? I meant members!” Laughter erupted from the crowd. Raven raised a hand and the laughter dissolved. “I need a volunteer to wrestle them,” she continued. “Let’s see how fast their bones snap!” A troll stepped forward. He was massive—twice my height, thick with muscle, his skin the color of wet clay. “I’ll break them in two!” he bellowed, slamming a keg to the ground. The crowd cheered louder. I stepped forward. They laughed harder. “She’s serious?” one jeered.

She chuckled, turning her head at me. “Promise me you won’t sell this, Red,” she laughed. I shook my head, my shoulders shaking as I laughed with her. “I will keep this. You didn’t tell me you have this kind of talent, but you got my lips wrong.” I raised my hand, my index finger pointing at the curve of the lips of her stick man drawing. Aya glanced at me and then nodded. “Paint again, Red,” she murmured. “I can’t. Since Scarlett died, I felt like I could not paint anymore,” I muttered sadly, glancing at the last piece I made, Scarlett and our twins.