Three Trite Tales: The Lost Tale

Chapter the One-Half:

In which our intrepid heroes get unbelievably drunk, make total asses of themselves, and then make me promise not to print it. But I do anyway. 


0 hour  

    “Trolls!” Swift cried, just as the first of the cloth bags struck the ground at their feet. A cloud of white dust rose in the air. Rayek began to cough violently. The dust burned his eyes, his nose, his throat. But Swift swooned instantly. She fell face first into the grass. Nightrunner was already semi-conscious. “Quick! Another pouch!” the troll with the hat screamed. Rayek staggered to his feet and drew his dagger.

    The brown-robed troll through a third pouch right in Rayek’s face. He coughed, but continued to advance on them.

    “Old Maggoty – do something!” the troll with the hat wailed.

    “Bah!” Old Maggoty picked up a stone and threw it at Rayek’s head. His eyes watered from the powder, and he did not see the stone until it was too late. With a firm BOP on the head, he keeled over.

    “Hunh. Funny looking elf,” Old Maggoty frowned. “He ain’t one of Bearclaw’s gang, is he? Didn’t take to my powder.”

    “I’m surprised your powder worked so well on the girl.”

    “Bah. Any simpleton knows all these point-eared vermin have a little wolf blood in ‘em. At least... all the vermin in Bearclaw’s gang. Now come on. Leave the wolf. And mind the sword, Picknose my boy.”  

2 hours  

    “Nnnuhnnnn...” Rayek lifted his head. His forehead was throbbing from the troll’s sure aim. He hadn’t imagined the fat old things had such good right arms.

    “Swift...?” he mumbled.

    “Hhhmm?” Swift moaned.

    “Can you sit up?”

    “No...”

    Rayek rolled over on his back. His ankles were manacled. So were Swift’s. They were lying on some sort of wooden shelf. “Where are we?” he murmured.

    “Poking trolls...” Swift moaned. She lifted her head. There were three trolls sitting about a table, cackling to each other. She frowned as her sleepy eyes tried to make out the features on the bearded one. It was Picknose! And he was holding New Moon.

    “Poking troll!” she screamed, throwing herself off the shelf. Her chains caught around the edge of the support post and she fell flat on her face. Picknose threw his head back and laughed.

    “Picknose! You dirty deceiving son of a sick human! You give me back my sword this mother-poking heartbeat! I’m warning you!”

    “Do tell,” Picknose dangled the sword in front of her face. Then he laughed again.

    “Haw haw haw – Eyaaggg!” he screamed as Swift bit into his ankle. He yanked her up from the floor and menaced her with her own sword. “You flea-ridden, milk-toothed whelp! I’ll give you something to bite!”

    Rayek landed on Picknose’s head and began to kick and punch about his shoulders. Picknose roared and dropped Swift. She slammed her chin hard on the ground again. Picknose caught Rayek and threw him done to the ground beside his lifemate. Swift continued to dangle from the shelf by her chains.

    “Oooh, Picky, I hear the dreadful wolves,” the troll female shrilled.

    “There’s only one, Oddbit, darling. Leave it.”

    “One wolf is making all that ruckus?”

    “Don’t worry, precious. We’ll take care of that mongrel. Maggoty, where’s that powder of yours?”

    “Rayek, get me down from here!” Swift wailed. **Nightrunner,** she sent. **Nightrunner, get out of here. We’ll find you later.**

    Rayek stretched on tiptoes to unhook Swift’s manacles. Then he collapsed next to her again. His forehead was cut from the stone. **Do we escape now?**

    “Dagh! Where did that wolf get to?” Picknose stuck his head out of the window. “Get back here, you beast! I promised my Oddbit a fur scarf!”

    “Oh, who cares, Picky, as long as it’s gone.”

    Swift shook head. **Un... not yet... I wanna find out what happened here.**

    Rayek sighed. **Poking trolls.** He looked up at the three lumpy green things now huddled together in council. **What do you think they’re talking about?**

    Swift shrugged. But now the three trolls turned back towards the elves, slow smiles spreading across their faces.

    “I have a verr-rry bad feeling about this...” Rayek moaned.

3 hours

     “Mmm, that smells good,” Picknose smiled as he breathed in the pungent odour. “Stewed chipmunk and worm-root seasoned with herbs from your garden, Maggoty. What a feast! Bring it on, little slaves. Your masters are hungry.”

    Rayek growled under his breath as he and Swift hefted the bubbling cauldron up to the wooden table.

    **Quit bellyaching,** Swift snapped in sending.

    **My head hurts, this stew reeks. These chains are loose around our ankles. I can paralyze them with a glare. Why can't we escape now?**

    **Oh, stop whining, Rayek. I want to find out what became of all the other trolls.**

    **You always want to find out what became of everything. If it weren’t for your cursed curiosity we’d be back in Sorrow’s End with the twins.**

    The trolls were already finishing their first bowls of stew. “Urp!” Old Maggoty picked her teeth. “I’ve a taste for that rare brew of mine. I’d say the occasion warrants it. Listen, pretty elf,” she poked Rayek’s bicep with her yellow fingernail. “Fetch me the big clay jug in that cupboard there – and be quick about it!”

    **I hate you,** Rayek shot at Swift as he walked over to the cupboard.

    **Uh-huh, uh-huh,** Swift rolled her eyes as she cleared off the table.

    “Sniff... this smells familiar,” Rayek murmured as he hefted the massive jug. He dragged it over to the table. It took Swift’s help to fill the trolls’ mugs with the lavender liquid.

    “Smells like dreamberries,” Swift remarked.

    “’Tis dream berries, girl!” Old Maggoty laughed. “They still grow around here. Old Maggoty knows a secret way to brew the juice from those little squishers.”

    “To Picknose!” Picknose raised his mug. “Former guardsman of Greymung the Shiftless!”

    “To you forthcoming wealth!” Old Maggoty added, “and to your wedding night, when you’ll finally have earned my granddaughter’s hand.”

    Picknose chugged back his drink. “Urp! More, slaves!”

    Rayek and Swift grudgingly refilled his mug. Picknose indulged them with another loud belch. “You know, elf. Your old sire Bearclaw had a taste for dreamberry wine.”

    “I don’t give a rat’s ass what he cared abo– wait, what’s wine?”

    “Ha!” Old Maggoty laughed. “Bearclaw. What a Hotspur. He was the only elf I ever came close to liking in all my days.”

    “Well, that figures,” Swift moaned.

    Picknose took the jug and filled a fresh cup. “Let’s see if his daughter is made of the same stuff.”

    “Trust me, I’m not.”

    “Ah, probably not,” he handed her the mug. “Now Bearclaw could do it all in one gulp.”

    Swift lifted the mug and stared deep into the faintly bubbling brew. She cast a suspicious glare at Picknose, then knocked the mug back and swallowed the wine in one long draught.

    She wobbled on her feet for a moment. Then she sat down abruptly. “It’s... good...!”

    Picknose laughed and hoisted her up by the hood of her shirt. “Not bad, not bad for a puppy like you. Siddown. Have another.”

    “Swift?” Rayek asked suspiciously.

    “You have one too, dearie,” Old Maggoty poured him a mug. “Pull up a stool.”

    Rayek eyed the mug dubiously. Then he took a draught. He wrinkled his nose and scowled at the brew. A moment later his pupils dilated, and the gold of his eyes all but disappeared.

    “I can see through time...” he whispered hoarsely.

 3.5 hours  

    “So, where’d you come from, brownskin?” Picknose demanded, as he gave Rayek another slap on the back. “They find you out in that burning waste where we dumped Swift and her mongrels?”

    “Yes, actually,” Rayek said haughtily. He closed his eyes and gulped hard as another burp tried to escape. “And I’m her lifemate now and I take care of her so you’d better be nice to her or I’ll give you such a whupping–”

    “Rayek, you’re drunk,” Swift deadpanned between hiccups.

    “Hunh. So it was a good thing we sent you all through the Tunnel of Golden Light.”

    “Why’d you play such a dirty trick on us, anyway?” Swift demanded. She ran a hand through her mop of bangs, but they continued to hang limply in her face.

    “Oh, I didn’t want to, not really,” Picknose smiled. “But Greymung was a spiteful old toad. It was death or worse to defy him.”

    “Dung,” Swift crossed her arms and glared at him.

    “Er... by the way... why are you still alive?”

    “I told you!” Rayek snapped, slamming his mug down for emphasis. “I took care of her.”

    “Owl pellets you did!” Swift shot back. “I whupped your ass and stole all your food – that’s how we survived!” She hiccupped. “And hey, what happened to that ol’ Greymung? I was looking forward to paying him back. But we came through your tunnels and there was no one there.”

    “Oh, they’re gone, elf. Long gone,” Old Maggoty sniffed. “To the mining pits way up in the White-Cold Land where we’ll never see them again.”

    “What happened?” Rayek asked.

    “Troll warriors from the frozen mountain surprised us!” Picknose growled.

    “Great Sun! There are more trolls?”

    “Course there are, brownskin. Now shut up and listen. They broke into our living chambers through a tunnel that been sealed off so long we’d forgotten it.”

    **Rayek!** Swift beamed. **There’s other trolls! The world is full of trolls and elves.**

    **Goody. Can we escape now?**

    **No. I’ll tell you when we’ll escape.**

    “You paying attention, elf?” Picknose asked.

    “Huh?” Swift blinked.

    “‘Huh!’ The great chief of the Wolfriders! You elves thought you owned the forest, didn’t you? Always bragging about your fancy ancestors, the High Ones. Well, we trolls have a noble heritage too.”

    Rayek burst out laughing in his mug of wine. Picknose slapped him upside the head to silence him. Then he cleared his throat and continued. “Our forefathers were clever and strong. They lived way up at the top of the land where it’s always snowing. The mountains were their domain, and no creature, big or small, escaped their hidden traps. But a time came when big, heavy sheets of ice started crunching down around the mountains, filling up the crevices of valleys, and shaking up the tunnels something fierce.”

    “Sheets of ice... riiiiight,” Rayek drawled. “It’s all dreamberry talk.”

    “Oh, shut your yap,” Picknose growled. “Is he always this annoying?”

    “Always,” Swift smirked.

    “Anyway. As it got colder and colder and the ice got thicker and thicker around them, my ancestors decided to dig their way to a warmer place. It took them a long time and the cold to follow them downland, but finally their tunnel ended here, under the warm ground where the woods you elves used to call the Holt stood. ‘Course, this was well before you Wolfriders settled here. A lot more time passed, time well spent in learning the ways of metal-working and cavern gardening... but one day King Guttlekraw up and decided he wanted all his subjects to return with him to the Frozen Mountains.”

    “Guttlekraw,” Rayek chuckled. “Charming name.”

    “Greymung, who was only a young mump then, and many other trolls refused. There was a rebellion and a big battle, and when it was over, Greymung’s side had won. They drove Guttlekraw and his followers back through the tunnel and sealed it off. So Greymung became king of his own group of trolls.”

    “And got fat and lazy!” Old Maggoty picked up the tale. “Why – I wiped his nose and fed him his moss mush when he was only a tot....”

    Rayek moaned and yawned.

    Swift let a gentle burp escape her lips.

4.5 hours  

    “....My sweetest mushroom, my darling gem! I’d face any danger to win you, Oddbit!”

    **He’s been serenading her forever!** Rayek moaned. **Why don’t they just join and be done with it!**

    Swift’s drunkenness had turned morose, and she sat at the table, chin in her arms, staring glumly at the broken New Moon.

    “Ohh, what’s the long face, elf?” Picknose teased.

    “Want my sword back. Mother gave it t’me. And you broke it. You snapped it in two.”

    “Paugh. That’s all you know of its value! I didn’t break it. Look!” He held up the disconnected pommel. It ended with a ragged notch of metal.

    “You broke it!” Swift snapped.

    “It’s called a key. It opens things, wonderful things.”

    “Let me guess...” Rayek yawned. “Like a fair maiden’s heart. We use Recognition. It’s faster.”

    “Sez you,” Swift glared at him.

    “Haw haw haw! This – this! – is going to make me the world’s richest troll!”

    “Joyleaf never showed me no... key-thing,” Swift said.

    “She never knew about it. Bearclaw never knew about it. No one except for the who made the sword. Old King Greymung let it slip through his fingers, sword, key, treasure and all.”

    “Oooh, Picky,” Oddbit cooed. “I love it when you talk like that.”

    “I don’t care about treasure,” Swift hiccupped. “I just want my sword, all in one piece.”

    “Well, you can’t have it!” Oddbit screeched. “Picky promised me a shower of gold, and I won’t be wed to him without it.”

    Rayek smirked. “See? Recognition. If Oddbit Recognized you, she’d be yours whether you have gold or not, right Swift?”

    “Meh?” Swift looked up from the sword.

    “’Cause Recognition is Recognition,” Rayek said. He took another swig of wine.

    “Sez you. I had to practically tie you down to get anywhere–”

    Rayek blushed.

    “Baw haw haw!” Picknose laughed. “Ah, you might have some taste after all, brownskin.”

    Rayek frowned, trying to decipher the troll’s words. “Are you insulting my lifemate? Because I’m her lifemate now and I take care of her so you’d better be nice to her or I’ll give you such–”

    “Ahh, shaddup!” Picknose and Swift snapped at once.

    “Why, any troll worth his hammer knows a maiden’s love is a true as the gold he gives her,” Picknose continued.

    Swift glanced down at her cat’s claw necklace and smiled. “Might have something there...”

    “And I say you’re making up all this business about a treasure,” Rayek snapped.

    “It’s true! True! TRUE! I have Two-Edge’s word on it! He’s the greatest metal-smith that ever lived! A legend among trolls. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of him! Now... no one knows exactly where he comes from....”

    **Can we escape now?**

    **No.**

    **Can we escape now?**

    **No.**

    **Can we escape now?**

    **No...**

    **Can we escape now?**

    **No....**

5.25 hours  

    BUARRRRP!

    BEEHLLLLCH...

    BURRPPP!

    Rayek rolled his eyes as Picknose let out another window-shaking belch. Swift only laughed and summoned up a similarly heroic burp. The contest had been going on for hours, it seemed.

    **Can we please go now?**

    “Quiet honey. I’m winning.”

    “Bwahhahaaw!” Picknose gave Swift another slap on the back. “You know, you’re almost as grand an elf as your papa.”

    “Hey, you take that back,” Swift slurred.

    “Come on, one more time!” Picknose laughed.

    “Ooohhhh... Moon-Sword, Golden Hoard, Moon-Sword, Golden Hoard!” they sang together, Swift’s alto and Picknose’s bass. “Find us both, my treasure and me! My treasure and me, my treasure and me! The sword hold the key – the sword is the key – oohhh, my treasure and me, bring the key, my treasure and me, treasure and me!”

    Picknose threw up his arms at the song’s conclusion. Old Maggoty slapped both her hands on the tabletop and cackled at the sight. And in doing so, she exposed the last bag of sleeping dust at her belt. Swift leapt on it and threw it down in the middle of the table. Immediately the trolls started to cough.

    “Let’s go, Rayek!” Swift laughed. She caught up New Moon and darted for the window.

    The trolls were getting up from the table, glaring at the Wolfrider.

    “Uh-oh.” Swift looked around for an escape. “Rayek? Time to go.”

    “No,” Rayek snapped. He was sulking in the corner. “I don’t want to go anymore. I think we should stay a little longer.”

    Picknose rushed at Swift. “No, you don’t!”

    “Rayek!”

    Swift struggled to unbolt the shutters when Picknose caught her up in a crushing bear hug. “Thought you’d make fools of us, eh? I’ll teach you! I’ll teach you good!”

    **Rayek! Sweetums? Pretty please?**

    Rayek sighed. “Since you asked nicely. Close your eyes.”

    “What?” Picknose looked up at Rayek.

    Rayek stared into Picknose’s eyes and the troll froze stock still.

    “I’ll get ‘em!” Old Maggoty snatched up her broom. Rayek turned on her. A glance and she was paralyzed as well.

    Rayek glanced over at Oddbit, but she was already cowering in the corner, her eyes closed. “Picky...” she murmured.

    Rayek swayed on his feet as he picked Picknose’s pocket and claimed the pommel-and-key. “Shall we?” he tried to stroll over to the door, but he stumbled and teetered.

    Swift hastened to help him unbar the door. Picknose was starting to shake the spell off as they hurried outside. “Cursed elves–” they heard him mumble as he slowly regained the power of speech.

    “Poke it!” Swift broke into a sprint. She stumbled over her chains. “Your spells ain’t what they used to be!”

     “Ah, shaddup!” Rayek snapped back.

    “Get back here,” Picknose caught up his protective hat and staggered for the doorway. “I’ll get you–”

    Swift threw her head back and howled. Nightrunner raced down the hillside. Swift and Rayek leapt onto Nightrunner’s back and held on for dear life as the wolf ran away from the house and the swearing troll.

    “What did that awful brown thing do to you?” Oddbit whimpered.

    “Poking elf magic, that’s all,” Picknose grumbled. “Good riddance I say. It’s two less mouths to feed anyway.”

    “But Picky, I liked having servants!”

    “Phaugh! As long as I have the key to the secret treasure chamber, that’s all that matters.” He patted his pocket. “As long as I...” he slapped the pocket harder, then dug through it. “It...” he hunted through the other moth-eaten pockets of his shirt.

   EEEEYAAARGH!”  

5.5 hours  

    “Ooohhh, my head,” Swift moaned. She squirmed the final anklet off her foot. “I thought I’d never get this off. My ankles are so swollen.”

    “Uh-huh,” Rayek murmured. He lay on the ground, semi-conscious.

    “How’s your stomach?” Swift asked.

    “Better.”

    Swift smirked. “Never seen anyone retch purple before.”

    “Shut up. I fixed your sword, remember! I saved your ass back there! I’m the hero, you see. See ‘cause, I told you – I’m the one who takes care of you–”

    Swift toppled off the little rock and sank against Nightrunner’s fur. “From now on, let’s only take our dreamberries off the bush.”

    “Uh-huh.”

    Swift lifted New Moon and admired the newly reconnected pommel. “So... sun-goes-down?”

    “Later. Sleep now. Sober up. Quest later.”

    “Sounds good.” Swift snuggled against Nightrunner’s shoulder. “Sleep now.”

    “Tam?”

    “Hmm?”

    “Don’t tell anyone about the... purple...”

    “Okay, but you gotta promise me something.”

    “Hmm?”

    “Don’t tell anyone about the belching contest.”

    “Sounds good.”


 Elfquest copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2014 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts