Glørson sat on the mossy earthy undergrowth of the forest floor, sharp rays of light shone through gaps in amongst the dense tree cover. Bright white it looked almost supernatural, and one expected some being to be present. But not our troll who sat peacefully, eating honey from a nearby bee’s nest. Thick golden clear liquid he ate with massive rough hands, with earthy ragged bread. The honey had caught in his beard this he did not mind as he ate, the sound of the bees droned around him. It was almost starting to hypnotize him the distant hum of bees going about their business, as he looked deep into the trees darkening and mysterious who knew what this troll saw? Glørson knew his place here in the ancient forest Moorsfest; this was the place he was borne. Even though forlorn as it was the forest was a dwindling place, but here in the very centre of all things the trolls regarded as paramount to their very being. The trees were a form of natural architecture and also they lived beneath and amongst the trees, thinking and wondering of the mysteries of their world. This clan of trolls spent many hours at counsel, sifting through every fine piece of this place in understanding the magic of nature. This was no ordinary magic this was part of being, and using skills that were learnt over many hundreds of years. Applying this knowledge to everything they did in equal measure, and this written in the vast history of the forest trolls. It chartered how there language had evolved the various kings, and disputes, not all where with the folk of Midvaard. These books were kept in vast archives underground, written on parchment and bound in leather. Opulent and carefully scribed by Gloomy Glum Troll as Glørson was not a historian, very sharp and shrewd but not in the way Gloomy Glum was. This environment was what the trolls were, every measure of what the trolls did related directly to the forest. In all their philosophies this kept the equilibrium of nature in balance, the trees kept the trolls and the trolls kept the trees. Time was spent between hunting, and many of the trolls hunted skilled in their craft. Urringår she was a very good archer and a great warrior too, although there had been much conflict between King Guthwyn. These were not always ongoing, and where more sporadic in nature. This of course angered the trolls although things were far from harmonious between the two!
#Note# the spelling of Glørson is an improvement on its original spelling “son” works better than “sorn” as in the style and setting of the stories. Also the spelling of Midvaard is now only spelt with one I, as these stories are evolving one feels that this works better with the general flow of things. Trolls eating honey may sound odd but this is what got this part of the story started, and I liked the idea of a troll eating honey in a forest setting. Imaging the feeling of being alone in such a setting conjuring up the imagery for a dense forest, and the sound of bees.