The Legend of Trollbanus

By Samuel German

Trollbanus is an elf who is kidnapped by trolls as a child and raised to be an assassin. Buy the e-book and find out if she survives the troll village!

This book is great for:
1.)People who are fascinated by strong female protagonists
2.)People needing motivation to face adversity
3.)People who enjoy a little extra fantasy gore and violence
4.)Fans of rogue or assassin fantasy

Go ahead and gift this to a person who you think would enjoy it!

OR

Buy it for yourself If you think you would enjoy it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samuel German
• Release date: Mar 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781732308015

Samuel German

I am a fantasy writer from the USA. I work abroad as an English teacher. I write fantasy books, world of warcraft fan fiction stories, poetry and real life traveling books. I have currently only published a poetry book, a World of Warcraft fan fiction audio book and a fantasy book. My website skgbooks.net can be found in my links as well as my twitter page. You can also email me at [e-mail].

Book preview

The Legend of

Trollbanus

An assassin fantasy story

Written by

Samuel Kenneth German

The Legend of Trollbanus

 Copyright 2020 by Samuel Kenneth German

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and specific other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Kidnapped

The sacrifice

Minced Meat

The First Blade

Mag’Reth

A Corpse’s Value

Into the Woods

Training for Battle

Before the Full Moon

Living Among the Leaves

New children and new clothes

The Beast Returns

The Second Blade

Vekuzz’s Hunt

The Twisted Elf

The Twisted Cave

Elves from the Deep

The Orynaei

Paying Respect to Those Who Have Died

Twisted Disguise

The Secret

Heading Westward

Note from the Author

Prologue

A town, which lies in the center of the woods,

Small houses whose walls are neutral colors,

Whose roofs, shutters and doors are cold.

Trees tower above, swaying,

Making shapes like animals neighing.

Very few beings are around,

Their necks almost snap,

At the slightest sound.

The elven children clasp to their mothers’ lower legs,

They hang on to their hands, never wanting to let go.

Elven guards stand ready from night to dawn,

From early morning to late afternoon,

From evening to evening.

They stand forever,

And they will not be leaving any time soon.

1

Kidnapped

Bright blue eyes swell and look up at a mother’s face, whose fingers grip it tightly around the waist, hoisting her up and bending down low, up and down taking a twirl all around. The room whirls around them both in a blur, but the young elf’s eyes stay fixated on her mother’s face. Loose lips expose a giggling smile, as squeaks and hiccups come out of the small elven child.

The moon smiles down from high above. Tips of trees cower below it. They surround the various huts and small houses, which are held tightly together with the surrounding clumpy patches. Through many windows, the twinkling lights still shine bright. However, in some, it is going dark, as it gets deeper into the night. Shadows fade into darkness, but the moon’s glow presses on, out ever more now that they lurk toward the huts. Some of the dark shapes are large, and others are small. A few are tall and mammal like, with jagged edges and sharp horn outlines. They creep ever closer to the elven village. Now, almost all the windows are dark, except for the one window that has yet to go out. The moon still smiles, and then a twig snap is heard down below. The elven mother flings open the hatch of the window and peeks her head out. A guard’s head turns, his hand extends to a tree and towards an owl that is flapping its way back to the top. The guard smiles and his blue eyes glisten in the moonlight. He turns around and continues to patrol his scheduled route.

The elven mother lays the child into bed. With her fingertips only seconds from releasing the child, glass shatters from the window, nicking her neck. It is followed closely by a jagged dagger, which crosses it. As her body slumps to the floor, her eyes widen, and her hands try to close the wound. A troll with a dagger and a large sack looms above her, with his dim green eyes staying steadfast, not blinking or wavering. He grips his weapon until his knuckles are white and then continues to bloody its edge, slice by slice. The tiny elf shrieks from its bed and then the sound of screams, heard from near and far, are ringing out into the once still night air. The elf grabs one of her stuffed animals and clutches it tightly to her, hiding her face in its chest. The troll’s giant fingers grasp the elven child’s head, scrunching her hair into the palm of his hand and digging his fingertips into the top layer of her scalp. He throws her into the large sack as if she were a vegetable, plucked from a busy marketplace stall. She still clutches onto the stuffed saber tiger as she falls into the bottom of the sack.

The troll exits out the window from which he came. To the right, the body of the guard lies face down with an arrow sticking out of his back. To the left, there are even more trolls with large sacks. Together, their heavy feet stomping loudly, they make their way out of the village. Behind them, broken windows and doors, mangled corpses are seen spewed all over the floor of the houses in which fires burn. In front of them are only trees, not a single leaf rustling, waiting for them to make their escape.

The strangely built monsters wander through the woods, with a certain direction in sight. With the thud of their feet and the flicker of their startling green eyes, they send the critters into the night, scampering for safe cover within the darkness. They come to a river, where empty canoes lie with their bottoms facing up towards the dark sky. The trolls flip them over, drop their sacks inside, push the canoes out and paddle away. Muffled cries and loud sniffles are quieted with heavy punches. The canoes glide along the river with the moon shining down from high above. The moon lights the path, no matter what path that might be.

The canoes slide into the mud of a riverbank. The color of the horizon is now a beautiful mixture of various colors. Trolls greet those leaving the canoes with shouts of excitement and exuberant dancing. The sound of music pierces the crisp morning air. It sounds like a flute being choked and drums being beaten for all they are worth. The sacks are now filled with muffled snores or complete silence. They are picked up and carried by bulky troll women. The elven children are dumped out onto the ground. They are left there, inside a giant cage. The cage’s bars are thick and metallic, but they have some small gaps and tiny crevices.

The elves sit quiet and motionless, staring at one another. They certainly know each other from the village but still not a sound escapes their mouths. They are in a circle made of other elven children who each have a blanket and are so still in their sleep, it is as if they are dead. The new prisoners huddle up, with no blanket to warm them from the late night’s dissipating chill or the morning’s early frost.

Several trolls come towards the cage; their heavy footsteps cause many young elves to sit up. Their eyes open wide. Their bodies are frozen still. The cage’s gate is opened, and blankets are heaved into the center until they are piled high.

The thud of feet and the glint of dim green eyes return a little while later. This time, they are carrying a large bowl of liquid cream mush. They toss it into the center that now lays empty. There is a lot of shuffling in the blankets on the far edge as the older prisoners crawl towards the mixture. They grab it with their hands while others lap it up, not even bothering to use their hands. The new prisoners stare reluctantly but soon their stomachs will remind them that once inside, it tastes all the same.

The sun goes down and the moon appears. The sun comes up and the moon disappears. Cycles come and go, and the bowls of mush start to become the most exciting part of the elven children’s day. One night, two troll’s thuds can be heard, long before they are seen approaching. These trolls are different from the ones who brought the blankets and the bowls of mush. They have weapons and they wear metal and leather on their shins, mid-sections and shoulders. They open the gate and step in, while the elves move backwards and spread out around the enclosure. How bout dis wan? asks one troll guard to the other. Naw, he replies. It be too young, We need da blood from anotha wan. Not wan dat still be bein’ a toddler. We be needin’ an older child. The guard grabs the arm of an elf who is an older child. The elf kicks and screams but to no avail. The troll guards are much too strong. The elven child never returns, and its blanket remains cold and empty.

This cycle also continues and, each night, the elves go to sleep snuggled in their own blankets. Come morning, there are more empty blankets. Then, a few new sacks are brought in and the same process is repeated; a heap of blankets, a bowl of mush, faces full of distain and then everyone is eating apathetically, once again.

At night, there are huge celebrations and dances being held, as the trolls gather around an object in the center of the village. Their dancing and chanting goes on deep into the night. The elves stand watching through the cage’s bars, but they are shooed away by several troll guards. However, on one fateful night, the troll’s celebration is interrupted. Something large is heard coming from the woods. Twigs snap and bushes rustle, small saplings swing and whistle as the intruder approaches the village. There are loud screams elicited from the trolls. Many run, others trip and fall, guards stand, preparing for the worst. Dogs come to the guard’s side as the danger approaches. Suddenly, from the woods, comes a massive tiger. Its giant white teeth shine and sparkle in the dark as it bounds towards the trolls and their companions. They brace themselves for its assault. The orange beast’s ravaging claws and its terrifying bite send screams of panic and pain into the night. The troll guards and their dogs do not stand a chance, running and leaving a single troll guard to his fate. The tiger stands over him, ready to feast. Not yet finished with its kill, the tiger takes its first bite. The troll guard’s sobs and screams are met with nothing but silence as the beast enjoys its meal.

As the stars in the sky sparkle in the darkness, the moon smiles above, and the village lies still. The tiger has come to the end of its meal. The elven children are lined up, some of them are smiling with enjoyment and others staring with their mouths open, their little fists tightly clutching at whatever they can. Their own garments, their hair, the parts of the cage. Not far from the tiger is a giant stone. Both broken and untouched vials surround it. The undamaged vials have a red liquid swimming inside of them. On the stone lies a young elf. Her eyes are glazed and aimed up at the sky. Her mouth is open in an awkward position. Her flesh loose and missing its form as she is bound tightly from her legs and arms. The tiger stalks closely to the prisoner. It jumps up and moves on to its next meal. The elven children scream and cry and the tiger cocks its head towards the cage’s direction. It leaps and bounds and then pounces, hitting the bars with a loud thud. The elves of different ages and sizes fall back as the tiger bites, claws and rips at the cage. Soon, it gives up and saunters back towards the stone, where it proceeds to eat what is left of the elven child.

Eventually, the tiger leaves and most of the prisoners finally go to sleep. Yet, there is one who remains standing there still, wailing and sobbing. She is tall, with a thin frail body. She has droopy eyes, puffy from crying. A ratty dress that is stained and dirty tightly clings to her body. Her hair is still braided from the night she was captured, but it is now tangled and messy from not being brushed for quite a while. Another elf, who is much shorter, sneaks up next to her. She puts her arm up and around the sobbing girl and shows her a small stuffed animal. It is her only one, as her blanket is empty without her and the small stuffed saber tooth cat. It was taken with her on the night of her abduction. The tall elf girl takes the stuffed cat and wraps her arms tightly around it. Her puffy, red eyes dry, at least for the moment. As their eyes meet, the taller elf reaches up towards her own neck. She pulls off a necklace and hands it to the shorter elf in exchange for her kindness. Their arms wrap around each other and they embrace for a long time, after which they both slink back to their cold blankets. The taller elf cuddles up close to her new stuffed animal. A smile stretches from one edge of her lips to the other. Her messy hair rests against the blanket and slowly blows in different directions with the help of the night’s chilly breeze.

The shorter elf lies on her back and stares at the ceiling of the cage, up at the ceiling. Her eyes move to the necklace. It is silver with small silver conjoining links. The amulet on the end has a design engraved into it. There are three elves: one female adult, one male adult and one child, whose gender is not obvious. The elven child lies in between them as the female and male arch up into two rounded edges, creating the shape of a heart. The elf lets it drop and it hits her chest, right above her own heart. The elf tosses and turns back and forth several times, her eyes shut tight. After shifting endlessly in her bed, she sits up and looks out of the cage. On the rock, lie the remains of the poor, little elf. The bones and most of her face are left untouched, but there is no blood nor are there any organs left. The tiger had eaten all of the skin, the meat and internal organs. The only blood that remains is inside those tiny, unbroken vials. The elf lies back down and turns to one side. Her body is in a sleeping position, but her eyes still stare wide, far into the distance. Her eyes are squinting but focused, as if something is waiting for her on the horizon. Then, after her chest has gone up and down fifteen or twenty times, her eyes shut. She breathes gently and her amulet rises and falls as the last moments of the night slip below the horizon.

2

The sacrifice

The short elf, still wearing the necklace, is standing on the beach of a pond, bright blue skies hang above her and beautiful white clouds move across them. She is older now, perhaps the human age of ten. The sun peaks around the fluffy clouds and sprouts light, while the water of the pond glistens and sparkles. The elf skips and dances with many other elven children. Her mother sits on a rock smiling at her and her father stands in the background with other elves who are starting a beach fire. When the sand explodes, her mother shakes and grabs both sides of the rock to avoid falling off. The water swirls then jumps and the elf with the necklace falls down. There is a loud banging sound, crashing and smashing. It rings out with the sound of metal on metal. The mixture of sounds clashes and crunches at the elf’s delicate ears. The pond has faded away and the elf squints, as the bars of the cage slowly blur into clear view.

There is a troll banging on the cage with a metal pipe to wake up all the elves. It is mid-afternoon, she realizes, as her hand wipes across her eyes slowly and she blinks twice. The cage opens and the bowl of mush is tossed inside. It hits the ground with a thud and some of the mush slops out hitting a few elves, landing on their clothes and faces. They all scamper and crawl towards the bowl. The elf with the necklace stretches a bit and then joins them. As she approaches the bowl, there is an uneven tune of tongues lapping and lips smacking. Then her eyes find the taller elf who is putting both her arms in, drawing them out then slurping it out of her cupped hands, and finally licking her arms clean. Next to her sits her companion the stuffed saber tiger. The elf with the necklace kneels down; they had become close in the months since they exchanged their valuables. However, they have never spoken one word to each other. None of the elves have ever spoken a word at all.

After the meal, the two elves sit together, close to the front of the bars. They toss the saber tiger back and forth and play with it. As the hours pass, they stop tossing it and walk around the cage instead, looking out into the village and straining their eyes to see into the forest. There is the stone