Trolls

Gnok picked up the turtle by its shell and set it gingerly in his massive palm. Tendrils of green smoke rose from an invisible fire entrapping what had formerly been his companion Leva. He curled his three leathery fingers around the tiny creature, forming a makeshift prison, and employed his other hand as the roof. Svode squinted through the bars.

“Leva…turtle?” Svode inquired, scratching the rutted dome of his head. A great glob of silvery spittle danced below his drooping mouth from the effort.

“Magic,” said Gnok. His gnashing teeth reflected the agitation his vocal chords could not.

Svode spun and lurched toward the door the human had disappeared through. Using his ponderous fist as battering ram, he splintered the wood, then pried it from its iron hinges. His bulk got stuck in the opening when he attempted passage. The opening was but a quarter his height and, unbeknownst to his dwarf brain, far too small.

He resorted to using his brute strength and drove into the wall. It buckled, then burst forth in a shower of stone and mortar.

Outside was a mud precipice. Gnok and Svode observed the human stumbling down a steep, narrow path away from the sieged castle. Its pointed hat flapped to and fro with each lively step, and sunlight winked off its wicked magic stick.

Gnok, being the cleverest of the trio, which had since been reduced to a measly duo, noted the rippling feathers on the human’s cape. He set down Leva, picked up a wedge of stone, and hurled it in one swift catapult motion down the slope. Having had much practice with birds, he hit his target easily, sending its broken body cartwheeling out of sight.

Gnok and Svode exchanged looks, retrieved their cursed friend, and returned to ransacking the fortress.