COURAGE IS NOT THE ABSENCE OF FEAR; BUT TO ACT IN SPITE OF IT

Vendel, son of Rundle, son of Kilfred, as loved by Momo. Follows back from Momos-trolls

[tired-old-goat]

@forlornfrostborn

  Hvitna quickly shoulders a whining pup, reaching down to tap the ground, but stops short, visibly wincing. Vendel would not understand the code she and her old hunters had. Habits die hard.

  Thinking on her feet, she shoves the shouldered pup in Vendels hands, careful not to scratch him, or the baby girl with her freshly sharpened claws. In her mind, she hoped he understood the action. Please watch them, take care of them while she leaves in to the night to complete the tasks set before her.

  She was Gunmars Gamekeeper. In the Darklands there were guards for her pups while she was away. Here, the Frost Troll has no friends, none that she trusts yet, anyway.

 But Vendel had always been good to her pups, and her. If anyone, she trusts him.

It has been an age since the mighty Frost Trolls and the Highland trolls interacted. In a way, Vendel feels proud, even if it is such a small thing. Who knows how many Highland trolls are even left, much less their larger, more northern brethren?

Before he knows it, one of her pups has been thrust into his hands. After a blink, he understands. “Ah, I see. Come then, let me have them.”

[tired-old-goat]

Yuki is gonna slide some river trout to Vendel, before sitting on the ground "what's a heartstone?" she scooted the fish a little closer before waiting for his answer. Payment for bothering him, it seemed.

Vendel seems tired, but says nothing of it.

"A Heartstone is the lifeblood of all trollkind. We can survive without them, but we thrive with them -- and even so, some of us with weaker constitutions do not last long without the presence of Heartstone nearby."

[tired-old-goat]

An Earthquake?! No, it's the new resident Frost Troll storming Vendels den, half geared up for a nights hunt, looking worried, and haphazardly holding five wriggling pups. @forlornfrostborn

WHAT IN THE NAME OF GRONKA MORKA WAS --

... Oh. That's right. Their newest, largest resident.

"Hvitna, what is going on?"

[tired-old-goat]

Unless Bular lied- which it seems he might have, unless she really needs a horngazel- it seems like she can't find trollmarket. She fills in her tunnels- and then the entry hole she made. But she sits next to the bridge, in the canal. Pouting.

Sorry, dear, the old Highland troll is a bit of a shut in!

[tired-old-goat]

...Someone is trying to get in.

He will have to let Angor Rot know so he can be on alert as well.

[tired-old-goat]

Well, horngazel or no horngazel, the only way to get to a place that's underground is to dig. The largest bridge in Arcadia is over a storm canal- which should provide enough support that if she burrows downwards, nothing will collapse. She'll fix the hole afterwards, but for now- digging.

If it were that easy, their enemies would have gotten in centuries ago.

Magic is magic, dear. She will find that no matter how deep she digs she never really gets anywhere interesting.

[tired-old-goat]

This weakness is not new.

No, the old goat has been noticing the crawling frailty growing over the past few weeks, but this is the first time it has been this difficult to get up out of nest.

He sighs. Vendel is getting old, he knows, and his magic is waning. But, he cannot stop now. The Heartstone is healing with the aid of himself and Angor Rot. One day, it will regain it’s full strength and this market will return to it’s former glory.

Compared to that? His own life is irreverent.

[tired-old-goat]

forlornfrostborn​:

   The Frost Trolls hailed from all parts of the Arctic, with denser populations between the old Nordic nations, all the way to Siberia. She smiled, a bit of those sharp teeth showing from how excited she was.

   Hvítna? Certainly was a nicer name than Gunmar had given her. And, more apt. She liked it.

   But Vendel had a point. Her hunters had sort of…figured out how she communicated over the years. However, she had more pressing matters. A soft whine coming from the shoulder sling reminding her that she had five hungry mouths, and she herself to feed. She’s even still damp from swimming after whales.

   She parted her fur, showing off the one pup Vendel had met, as well as four other healthy looking whelps. She had done her best, despite the Darklands being a barren, harsh place.

He can tell she is happy. Quite obviously, the female is looking for someplace safe for herself and her little ones, and to be frank? Vendel loves babies. They are so rare that in his mind every one is to be celebrated, and given everything the tribe has to offer. Trollmarket is still recovering, but there are about a hundred trolls who have returned to live there.

Oh, but to see that familiar little thing... it makes his heart soar. He had been terribly wounded at the time, but Oddball had, fortunately been kind.

“Come. They will part out the whale and of course, a bellyfull will go to you and those whelps.”

[tired-old-goat]

@forlornfrostborn

  Oddball gave him a hopeful smile. She followed his gesture, proud that the entire kill would be used, as her people did in the Darklands. She could not speak, not even a little, but she hoped that the bowing of her head in respect told Vendel of her gratitude towards him.

  She stopped, turning and grabbing the whales tail in her mouth, looking at Vendel expectantly. Oddball knew no one, at least presently here, could hope to drag this kill to where it could be processed. Following him wherever he may go.

He does not often eat meat, but he knows that many of the trolls of the Market do. Vendel is not against it, he simply prefers the texture of fruits and vegetables over a more carnivorous diet, though this is quite special. His tribe, the Highlanders, are native to Finland, Norway, Scotland, even Ireland... many of his ancestors hunted whales.

Even Vendel will partake in the feast this Frost Troll has brought them.

“One day you shall have to tell me your name,” he chuckles. “In the mean time... may I call you Hvítna? It means white, or to become white, in old Norse.”

[tired-old-goat]

forlornfrostborn​:

   Furred ears perk up, speaking her surprise for her. Oddball has to restrain herself from charging in and making the already tense situation worse. She barely fits through the portal, scraping it on all sides.

It is... a risk. He knows it. Vendel, despite all of his magic, would be hard-pressed to stop a rampaging, fully grown Frost Troll if Oddball felt threatened and acted on it. But... as the Trollhunter has since taught him, perhaps everyone deserves a chance at redemption. Even the hunter of Gunmar. Even the shadow-witch Angor Rot, who he very much enjoys tea days with.

Maybe even the revenent shattered price Bular, son of Gunmar, who still lives somewhere out there.

Steam billows from Vendel’s nose as he exhales. Stepping aside, he gestures to her that Trollmarket is open to her, as damaged as it is, but she is welcome. He does not know her language, but he does his best.

“Process the carcass. We will use everything. This shall be a feast to remember.”

[tired-old-goat]

@forlornfrostborn

  The Frost Troll sits there a moment longer, awkwardly shifting her weight from side to side. She gives Vendel a puzzled look. In truth, she did not expect to get this far at all. Oddball lowered her head in a showing of fearful submission, something common among Gumm-gumms, and carefully placed a paw beyond the threshold, stopping there, and waiting on Vendels reaction.

  The past few months had been...hard, to say the least. And joining Trollmarkets clan seemed like her only option, at this point.

She seems... strangely nervous. Vendel glances back, seeing if perhaps Angor Rot was about, and causing the large female troll some apprehension, but the witch does not seem to be around. Even if he were, the old goat has a responsibility to protect all who come to Heartstone Trollmarket these days. The poor broken crystal is doing better, in the months since the titan’s attack.

A bit nervous himself, the Highland troll steps forward and offers Oddball a welcoming hand.

“Come, then. You and your whelps are safe here.”

[tired-old-goat]

A loud slam shakes the back end entrance of Trollmarket. It comes again, and again. When the portal is finally opened, a small whale carcass is shoved through, barely fitting inside. Behind it, sitting patiently on the other side of the portal sat a rather concerned looking Frost Troll. @forlornfrostborn

Of course, the terrified residents come calling to him for help.

Vendel stares at the whale carcass, and then at the familiar Frost troll.

"...Welcome back, dear," he says, not sure exactly what else to do. Many denizens of the ruined Trollmarket would GLADLY eat such a prize! If, of course, she is willing to share.

[tired-old-goat]

hannah-the-small​:

Hannah accepted the letter and tucked it safely away in her bag, though she brightened at the question, nodding in agreement, “Uh huh, very. Suzy took my lunch.”

“This Suzy sounds like fun.”

Gently setting Hannah down, the old goat gets up and goes to his larder, coming back with a basket full of fresh vegetables, some spices, and some rice.

“Come then. I will steam some vegetables and rice and spices.”

[tired-old-goat]

hannah-the-small​:

Hannah let him lift her onto his knee, while she didn’t have to be careful with his stone exterior she was still cautious not to accidently kick him or anything. “He is really smart, but he was scared the other day. He thought he saw one of Grandpa’s nasty men.” Hannah admitted, though she nodded at the suggestion of a letter, “I promise I won’t peek.”

“Unfortunately, there are nasty men -- and trolls -- everywhere.”

Vendel leans over just so, picking up a piece of parchment and a feather pen, dipping it into an ink well and writing something on it. Blowing on it to ensure it dries, he rolls it up, and seals it with a wax stamp in the shape of the once grand Heartstone that had stood in the Market.

“Here. Take this to him when you go home. In the meantime, are you hungry?”

[tired-old-goat]

hannah-the-small​:

“Well… one said bail-iffs which I don’t know what that was. And one said there would be pen-ult-eees. Another said possible eee-vick-tion.” Hannah answered in return, “grown ups use funny words.”

Vendel has no idea what a bailiff is, but he does know what penalty and eviction mean. In this context, he’s confused by the use of the word penalty, but in general, it’s meaning is easy to confer.

“Those are funny words, indeed.” The ancient troll slowly sits down next to her, and, if she is okay with it, will lift the little girl to sit on his knee.

“I will tell you what. You let your papa worry about such matters. He is a resourceful man, and I know from the way you speak of him that he loves you very much and will do anything within his power -- or without -- to take care of you. But I would like to write your father a letter of my own. Can you deliver it to him, without peeking?”

[tired-old-goat]

@hannah-the-small​

"It has Mister Vendel! I've been okay, though Daddy's been looking a bit worried over some letters he's been getting. There are some big words in them and I'm not sure what they mean... I snuck a look while he was making dinner." 

Have a worried brow wrinkle from the old goat.

“Now, Hannah, letters can be a private thing, and you ought’n’t be peeking.”

“...But perhaps I can be of help. Do you remember any of the words? I may be able to define them for you.”

[tired-old-goat]

what foods do you like to eat?

"Fish, fruits, vegetables, and grains, mostly."

And booze.