A Pebble in the Wind

“Not one step closer” Bragi said as the troll shuffled to a halt. “Now tell me what it is your chief wants and I’ll mull over his demands; and try to use big boy words in spite of the fact that your brain is no bigger than a pebble.”

The troll’s eyes nearly glowed as the blood of trollrage filled them. “Oogglick have no want” he began using his big boy words as requested, “besides you human dies!” It smiled, pleased with its use of grammar. Obviously the troll village's investment in Gwandamoob the Tolkeinesque Englandish tutor was working out well.

As the troll stepped forward the earth at his feet vanished and he plummeted a thousand yards into the canyon below. Bragi and Kottskold watched as the beast exploded into a liquid mass.

“How is it we’re standing here in the sky” asked Kott, “and how did you create the illusion of the cliff's being long enough to make us seem as if we were standing on it?”

The bard pulled a small wooden instrument from his frontal pouch, still picking at slim metal tines upon its surface. “It’s called a kalimba sir. Now get walking toward the actual stone if you please; my fingers are getting tired.”