A small tale

[Kaningutten]

WARNING: This is a long post, you might want to get a beer or a snack...

 

 

I am currently working on a childrens-novel set in a fantasy world, which I'm creating myself. I have several stories I'm hoping to get to tell through this world, though I hope later books might be aimed at a more mature audience. But as a beginning I want to give something to Norwegian children that they have never had; a fantasy story written by a Norwegian author on Norwegian terms... Anyway, I needed a small background story for one of my main characters, Vind, and decided to write this little piece in English, hoping to improve my english skills, but also trying to give a little something to the community... Oh, and this story is not written particularily for kids, it's fitting for readers of all ages(?)... It is a world intended for a Norwegian audience, so I've tried to change many of the names to better suit this english translation, more on that will be posted after the story.

 

*Note before you begin; I couldn't get tabulation to work here, so everything might be a little messy... :wacko: I'll just try to 'improvise' the tabulations!

 

*Second note; This is the second edition of the story. If you've got comment I'd still be happy to hear them! This story has been edited with help from Malchik. Thanks to him for his great effort in helping me improve my writing! I've also changed the name of 'someone' for several reasons.

 

*Third note; Updated again! Just trying to make the story better!

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you; The tale of how Vind found a new friend...

 

 

 

-----The sun sent it's warm rays from a clear blue sky giving the people of Westmark a welcome relief from the many blizzards that had ravaged the kingdom lately. Though summer was fast approaching the snow lay deep in Dwarf Dale, a valley hidden among peaks of the surrounding mountains known as the Diamonds. From the lookout point above the massive stone doors that lead into the small dwarven kingdom of Trymsberg, came a stream of snores. Brom, a plump and sturdy dwarf, was on sentry-duty, or as he liked to call it; nap-time. Trymsberg hadn't been involved in any wars for many, many years. Not even the orcs and goblins of Troll-mountains had dared to make any attempt on the small but majestic stronghold of King Hallgar and his people. In his dream Brom was rolling around in piles of gold and treasure, as fine a dream as any self-respecting dwarf could ever have, when an iron-shod foot kicked him in the side and a burly voice bellowed at him.

-----"On yer feet, ye lazy lump o' lard!" Brom was up in a heartbeat, but not quite awake, still unable, or not daring, to open his eyes. "What're ye thinkin', sleepin' on duty? An army o' orcs could 'ave gone straight past ye, ye useless halfling!" The reference to him being a halfling made Brom relax a little. Only Grim, his older brother, called him that. He finally managed to open his tired eyes. His brother was standing before him.

-----"Ye have to keep calling me that?" Brom asked with a resigned look on his face, truly weary of his brother's continued nagging about him eating too much and working too little. One could say the same about Grim and his love for drinking, Brom knew. but to dwarves drinking brings merit, not nagging. Brom sighed. "Ye know I do me best, and that's all I can do!"

-----"Aye, ye do. I know ye do," Grim put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "And tonight ye get to do some more," a smile was growing under his long, fiery red beard. "Vind's goin' to Troll-pass, and he wants us to come with 'im." Teeth also became visible beneath Brom's shorter and yellow beard, now. He loved the deep caves as much as the next dwarf, but there was an unexplainably wonderful feeling about travelling in the wilds with Vind, their half-elven ranger friend. Vind lived all alone in a cabin on the shores of Trollspeil, a lake in the forest north of Troll-mountains, from where he kept a vigilant eye on the monsters of the mountains. "Ye should think even them durned merchants would have sense enough to stay at home with all this bad weather we're havin' lately, but no!" Grim went on and threw his arms out. "They have to go and get themselves lost in the pass!" He shook his head, patted Brom on the back and sighed: "Get yerself ready, we set out within the hour."

 

-----A short while later the two dwarven brothers were on their way north, singing a song Grim had made for travelling. Grim was, as always, wearing full chainmail armor and a small, horned, helmet. On his back he had strapped his trusted and huge double-bladed axe. Brom, on the other hand, travelled considerably lighter, wearing only leather boots and armor. He also wore a long green coat, which dragged behind him through the knee-deep snow. On his hips hung two small throwing axes, and in his hands he carried a finely crafted hammer, his weapon of choice, specially designed for beating enemies into piles of goo.

-----The trek to the bridge, which lasted about two hours, was spent singing and laughing over tales of past adventures. They entered the large and dark forest of Greywood, which covered the rolling hills between Troll-mountains and the Diamonds with tall and weather-beaten pines. There they followed the well-worn path along the banks of the river Sildra. As the river made its way through the forest it reflected the sunlight to create an almost magical spectacle among the trees, twinkling light piercing the darkness of the gloomy forest. Spirits lifted and song heightened, they arrived at the only crossing of the river. But when the easily agitated Grim saw that Vind wasn't there he forgot all about the singing and merrymaking. He threw his backpack in the snow and started cursing, his change of mood coming as lightning from clear sky, but still not surprising, to his brother.

-----"Durned unreliable ranger! I tell ye, it's that elven blood o' his, ne'er have they been a punctual kind, always busy dancin' and pickin' flowers..." Brom just stood shaking his head before his brother could finish his raving. "What're ye shakin' yer head fer?" Grim grumbled at his amused brother, and in response Brom just pointed to a nearby pine. When Grim turned to follow Brom's pointing finger he almost fell over backwards with surprise, for there, just a few feet away, stood Vind, smiling. Wearing a brown leather outfit and a grey elven cloak tightly wrapped around him, he easily blended into the forest.

-----"Well met, friends," Vind stepped out of the shadows to greet the dwarves, his hood still pulled low over his head. The two brothers knew why he always kept his hood on, they had heard the tale, they had even seen some of it. And whenever they saw Vind, their thoughts dwelled on that hood, on why it was there. "Are you ready to do some work?" Vind patted the slender, but quite lethal, longsword that hung in a leather scabbard on his left hip and grinned. Slightly below the sword, strapped to his thigh, was a large curved dagger with the sharpened edge on the inside arc of the blade; a gift from his elven relatives. On his back he had a long bow, finely crafted with detailed elven carvings.

------"Ye always gotta sneak up on a poor dwarf like that?" Grim replied surlily. It wasn't the first time this had happened. Both Brom and Vind shared a laugh at the expence of their complaining companion. "Bah! Let's be on our way!" Grim pulled his pack from the ground, deliberately giving a great arch to his swing so Brom was forced to jump back a step. He set off down the western road. The laughter only heightened behind him, and angrily he spun about, shouting. "What's so durned funny, ye bunch o' stupid goblins? Are we to find these flamin' merchants, or just leave 'em for the wolves?" Brom was swaying back and forth, holding his belly and laughing hard. Vind, who barely managed to supress his own amusement, had to push the already unbalanced Brom, so he fell face-first into the snow, to calm him down. Brom jumped straight back up, his beard covered in snow, and still wore a big grin.

-----"If we are to rescue them we should at least go in the right direction," Vind said with an innocent shrug, as he turned back to Grim. Brom started howling again and he didn't stop until his brother laid him flat with a punch straight on the nose. Vind helped the bleeding and confused Brom back to his feet, and started after Grim, who was already crossing the bridge loudly cursing his own stupidity. Of course they had to go east, not even a child could get lost on the western road, where the most dangerous thing was the occasional elk.

 

-----About three hours later the road took on a north-eastern direction, heading almost straight for Westmark. By then Grim had found his good mood again and was singing one of his many songs of beer, battle and gold, and Brom's nose had gotten even larger and taken on a nice purple color. The cheerful mood ended abruptly as they came upon wagon tracks in the powdery snow. The tracks were far off to the side of the road and continued on a north westerly route straight for the Troll-mountains. Vind set off, running, not after the tracks, but further down the road, with the two dwarven brothers close behind. They reached a clearing in the forest with obvious traces of battle. Barrels lay shattered and scattered in the snow among a few dead goblins. Vind examined the scene, and amidst the carnage he found the remains of a man, his body badly torn from the slashing of crude weapons.

-----"Obviously this wasn't the only one on the wagon. The others must have fled." He looked to Grim, who had his axe ready, stalking the area, and then to Brom who was squatting to investigate the wagon tracks. He had to wonder about the dwarf, who had really grown accustomed to the ways of the wilderness. Brom stood up and rubbed his swollen nose.

-----"Goblins are followin' their tracks," Brom stated, to which Vind nodded and said,

-----"By my estimation it's been two days since the battle. And with four dead goblins here, that would make about seven still following them, if my count is correct." At that both Grim and Brom just shrugged. "As for the merchants I can only guess," Vind continued. "Everything indicates that only one of them left the wagon, and he didn't fare particularly well," Vind scratched his head. "There were probably at least two more on the wagon if they could keep controll of it while fleeing the remaining seven beasts."

-----"Slim chances for mere merchants," Grim decided.

-----"Specially in the Troll-mountains," Brom agreed.

-----"Worth investigating, anyhow," Vind said, starting off in the direction the wagon had gone. "We've got to find them before more snow falls and covers their tracks." The dwarves nodded.

-----"They gotta be cursin' their luck, them merchants," Grim said as he ran. "Makin' it past Troll-pass only to be ambushed by a bunch o' stinkin' goblins," he finished with a snort. The three friends ran fast into the forest, never even considering what dangers might lie ahead.

 

-----They had been running for close to three hours with no sign of any wagon, when a shriek, followed by a dull thump and a groan, filled the air. Brom lay on his stomach, half-burried beneath the snow. Vind was with him in a second, and laughing as he (again) helped the unfortunate dwarf to his feet.

-----"Two new clues," he said. "Firstly, there are only six remaining goblins after the merchants." He prodded the arrow-filled corpse, on which Brom had tripped, with his sword. "And secondly," he held his arms out wide, "it's getting too dark to see where we're setting our feet." As the dwarves looked around they realised that it had indeed become very dark.

-----"Aye, let's set camp and have a bite to eat," Grim said with an eager smile, but both of his companions knew that it was the drink that accompanied the food he most desired. As he always did when he went travelling, he had packed a couple of beers. "But let's not do it here." He, too, prodded the dead goblin with his weapon. "I don't want that fell-smellin' beast to disturb me supper." He frowned at the corpse.

-----"Aye, " Brom agreed. "Me belly's starting to complain." Grim slapped his brother on the back of the head.

-----"Yer belly's always complaining!"

-----The three friends found a tree, up-rooted by the wind and the weight of the snow. They soon had a fire going and settled down for the night.

-----"Ye don't think them goblins will stop by tonight?" Brom asked the others. There was no fear in his voice, but perhaps a hint of eagerness.

-----"I don't think so, and I don't hope so," Vind said while unrolling a blanket. "I'm more worried about the weather holding. I don't want a blizzard to hit us while we're sleeping, and bury both us and the wagon-tracks."

-----"Aye, funny thing this weather lately," Grim agreed. "I've ne'er seen blizzards this time o' the year afore, and now they're coming more often than a halfling's meals!" He finished with a snort. Vind nodded thoughtfully. He pulled his cloak in close and notched an arrow on his slender elven bow.

-----"I'll take the first watch, you just get some rest and I'll wake you up when it's your shift."

 

-----During the night there came only a light snowfall, and when the sun rose the next morning the wagon tracks were still easy to see. They had a quick breakfast before continuing on their way. The terrain started to change from rolling hills to rocky slopes. They were entering the Troll-mountains. It was obvious that no wagons could manage the terrain here for very long, and so it came as no surprise when they stumbled upon the abandoned wagon, one of its wheels shattered from the impact with a rock hidden beneath the snow.

-----"They're damned lucky even to have made it this far," Grim noted. "It'd take a pair o' fine horse, indeed, to pull a wagon all the way to Troll-mountains, what with no roads and all." Grim nodded his head. "Yup, seems to me that they're deserving of a rescue, it does."

-----While Grim was discussing with himself whether the merchants should be rescued or not, Vind and Brom were already climbing the rocky hills. They had spotted a column of smoke rising up ahead. The trees, too, tried to fight their way up the mountainside, but as the fertile soil gave way to sharp and jutting rocks they were reduced to only the occasional weather-beaten and struggling pine. Nearing the smoke they saw that it was coming through the dark opening of a cave. Vind pulled his sword and dagger and carefully started to make his way towards the opening. Brom brought his hammer down from his shoulder and tentatively followed. But hearing the sweet sound of Vind's sword sliding from its scabbard, Grim, too, had his axe out and began scaling the hillside like a crazed mountain goat. He barely slowed as he passed the others. His eager eyes were set on the rising smoke and his toungue was hanging out of his mouth. Vind sighed.

-----"There goes the stealthy approach," he remarked to Brom, who in response only shrugged and nodded. And then they were both in fast pursuit of the battle-hungry Grim. Brom, though he was pumping his short, stocky legs with all his might, had no way of keeping up with the agile ranger and his own manic brother. He could only sigh and push on as they both disappeared into the cave.

 

-----Vind, entering the cave a split second after Grim, was met by a gruesome sight; a pile of dead goblins and a dead human soldier. At the back of the cave a terrified merchant sat, sword in hand, his frightened eyes fixed on the enraged Grim who was trampling around, spluttering curses, and looking ready to kill anything in sight.

-----"Bah! Not a single little goblin male without a father left for us," Grim spat. "What's the point o' rescuin' people that need no rescuin'?"

------The terrified merchant sat frozen, not even daring to blink. Vind approached him, sheathing his weapons.

-----"Are you alright?" he asked the frightened merchant. "Do you have any wounds that need tending?" The man took a moment to get his eyes off the grumpy dwarf before he faced Vind.

-----"I," he began, but his voice failed as his eyes fell on the dead soldier. He shook his head and worked hard to continue. "They killed him, they killed both of them," he said, his voice on the verge of breaking. The grumpy Grim began to answer, but Brom, who had finally caught up, held him back. Vind put a hand on the man's shoulder.

-----"We'll get you home, don't you worry," he told him, beginning to help the man to his feet. But the man resisted, holding back.

-----"My leg." He winced in pain. "I think it's broken." Vind pulled up his blood-soaked breeches, to reveal a swollen and discolored leg. Blood ran from an open wound.

-----"Where are your horses?" Vind asked. It would indeed take a long time if they had to carry the man, who had obviously seen his share of fine meals, all the way back. Even with the three of them sharing the burden it wasn't a task Vind was to eager to set about.

-----"I don't know. They fled when those damned goblins attacked, about two hours ago," Sweat, or maybe tears, was running down his round face. He went on: "They've kept us pinned in this position since yesterday afternoon, after chasing us all the way through the forest. Probably trying to starve us, but it seems their patience ran out," Vind carefully eased the tired man into a comfortable position against the back of the cave. Guilt struck him as he realised that it was probably their coming that had triggered the attack. If he had only had the wits to keep their journey hidden and quiet, the dead soldier may still have been alive. He said nothing and shook the thoughts away.

-----"I need you to stay here and keep watch while I go to look for the horses," he told the dwarven brothers, who nodded their assent. "I'll just take some water and a blanket," He paused and looked out to the dark clouds. "Some food and a torch and tinderbox, too, just in case it takes longer than I think. The rest of my stuff I'll leave here," He took off his backpack and started to sort through his things.

-----"I'll get some more firewood," Brom offered. Grim settled beside the merchant, pulling out a small pipe and a bag of pipeweed. After stopping the pipe he offered the bag to the merchant, who more than willingly pulled forth his own pipe. Soon they were both puffing away. When Brom came back a few minutes later, laden with mostly wet branches and twigs, Grim was working to get the merchant's wound cleaned. Vind stood up, he patted Brom on the back on his way out. From the entrance he waved farewell to his friends.

 

-----Vind, now travelling light, was soon upon the tracks of the fleeing horses, which led down from the mountain and back into the forest. As the sun reached its zenith behind darkening clouds Vind was still trudging around in the snow. He noted that the tracks were crossed and made by more than just horses. Wolves! How many were impossible to tell. Vind halted and scratched his head, trying to discern the right direction to go, when the silence was broken by neighing and angry growling. He moved towards the source of the noise with great speed, yet his passing went unnoticed by the many hidden inhabitants of the forest. Ahead, among the trees, he could see a horse backing away from something, frightened. A neigh, followed by a pain-wrought howl, drew his attention to his left. He saw the second horse backing away from blood-stained snow. Running into a small clearing he witnessed the lifeforce leave a whimpering wolf. Vind circled the clearing, expecting the rest of the pack to jump on him at any moment. But nothing happened. The dead wolf must have been alone, he realised, and pretty desperate to attack a pair of full grown horses on its own. He approached the scared horses, greeting them with calm eyes. The confused and upset animals relaxed visibly and let him rein and tie them to a tree. Vind knelt low beside the dead wolf, its head crushed by the powerful hooves of the horse. As he did, he noticed the swollen breasts, filled with milk, and the otherwise ragged and poor state of the famished wolf. The people of Westmark weren't the only ones suffering from the harsh weather. He realised that there had to be hungry cubs waiting for her somewhere. He tethered the two horses together and rode them off to find the wolf's den. His mind was set on bringing a merciful end to the suffering of the poor cubs.

 

-----Even though the frenzied trampling of the merchant's horses had disturbed the wolf's tracks, Vind managed to find his way, riding far to the west, along the base of Troll-mountains. He shouldn't be taking such chances with the dwarves and the merchant awaiting his return, but he simply had to do it. Images of his own past drew him towards the doomed cubs; he would not allow such needless suffering again. At last he arrived at the den, a small cave going straight into the hillside. Before the entrance, from where the wolf entered and left the cave, the snow was dirty and covered with grey fur. Vind dismounted quietly, and tied the horses to a nearby tree. He heard weak whimpers coming from within. Taking only a torch from his pack, he crawled into the cave. Just a few feet inside he found the first cub, already dead. He gently pushed the little body aside and continued. The smell of dirty fur and decay met him as he made his way through the narrow tunnel. Upon entering the main cave he immediately spotted three ragged forms huddled together. Only one was moving. He drew his curved dagger and approached the lone survivor to end its suffering quickly. He reached out and gently lifted the cub by its nape skin, putting the dagger to its throat. Round and yellow eyes opened and looked into his own steely grey orbs. In contrast to the yellow eyes came white teeth, weakly sneering at him. But the wolf was too weak and too small to pose any real threat to him, Vind realised. He sheathed his dagger, and with the cub under his arm he crawled back out to the waiting sun. What was he doing?

-----In the little light that made it through the dark skies he noticed that the cub's fur was closer to white than the dark grey of most other wolves. He retrieved his backpack and fed the frightened little cub a few small strips of bacon. To his great relief the cub gulped down everything, it even let out a small yelp as a sign of gratitude, or it may simply have been because it wanted more. Vind also tried to make it drink from his waterskin, hoping that it was big enough to manage without its mother's milk, but with no luck. The ragged little wolf was clearly in need of something to drink, but it would not, or could not, drink from Vind's waterskin. Vind wore a troubled look as he tucked the cub in his backpack and cradled it in the soft woollen blanket. Resting the pack on his chest to soften the jolts of the journey he set off again, riding hard into the east. The dark clouds swallowed the sun behind him.

 

-----Many times on the way back to the cave he wondered if he had done the right thing in taking the cub with him. it would after all be a full grown wolf one day; a hunter and a killer. But every time questions and doubts popped into his head, he remembered those small, round, yellow eyes smiling at him. The little cub could not survive on it's own. Yes, Vind would take him in and make him his responsibility. It was a 'him', now. Vind would give him a name and a home. A friend.

-----Despite his great speed he did not quite evade the storm. As he arrived at the cave the tempest broke in full fury; rolling thunder filled the air, bright lightning split the horizon in two and wet snow whipped his face. He ran to the entrance with the horses in tow. Brom was there to greet him.

-----"I've buried the soldier," he told Vind. "The goblins I just threw down the hill. No point in wasting any effort on burying them," he shrugged.

-----"And how's the merchant doing?" Vind asked.

-----"Oh, he's just fine. Grim gave him some good ol' dwarven ale..." Brom's words trailed off as he noticed the small fury head peeking out from Vind's backpack. "Hey, what's this?" He smiled. The wolf, who had awoke as the thunder began, was frightened and even weaker than earlier. It didn't try to bite Brom's hand when he reached out to stroke its head. "It looks sick." Brom eyed the cub with a concerned look.

-----"He needs to drink, but he won't take water. I'm not sure if he will make it for long." Vind answered.

-----"Can I try?" Brom asked. Vind looked doubting at his dwarven friend, but when he saw the sincere glow in Brom's eyes he nodded and handed over the backpack.

 

-----"A wolf?" Grim spluttered. "Ye thinkin' to take home a stinkin' wolf? Ye lost the last bit o' sense ye have in that elven head o' yers?" Grim was jumping up and down, frustrated at the continued stupidity of his companions. His rage only grew as he looked down to see Brom sitting curled up in a blanket, trying to get the little wolf to drink some water. "Bah! Yer crazy the whole lot o' ye," He threw his arms up, and disappeared out of the cave.

-----"How are you feeling?" Vind asked the merchant, now introduced as Dinkelbye. He was a travelling merchant from the nearby city of Granby, on his way south trying to gain an advantage by 'breaking the pass'. 'Breaking the Pass' was the common name for making the journey through Troll-pass while there was still snow. A merchant who succeeded in getting valuable supplies to the isolated coastal communities was bound to make a nice profit. Dinkelbye, who still sat propped against the wall in the back of the cave, looked down at his leg. It had been tied and bandaged neatly.

-----"He might be a grumpy one, but he sure knows how to treat an injury," The plump man laughed. "I'm fine, thanks to his cooking and his fine pipeweed." Dinkelbye blew a ring of smoke and patted his full belly. "Oh, and I mustn't forget the tasty beer!" He added.

-----"Aye, he's drinkin'," came Brom's sudden and excited cry. Vind and Dinkelbye eyed him curiuosly. "No, no, no! I'm talking about the wolf," he explained when he saw the puzzled expressions of the others. And indeed, the cub was licking on the waterskin Brom was holding under it's nose. Brom patted the wolf's head and poured some of the water into a wooden cup for the little creature to drink as it pleased. From the cave entrance came an audible snort as the cold, wet and furious Grim returned.

-----"Bah, there's no peace to be had anywhere! A stinkin' wolf in here and the sky's cracking open out there!" Grim folded his arms on his chest and stomped his foot on the ground. Vind only laughed at his two dwarven friends; one as caring and compassionate as an elf, and the other equally so, but so afraid of appearing soft that he had adopted the bearings of an ill-tempered troll!

 

-----Not wanting to escort the merchant to Granby through dark tempestuous mountains, they settled down to another night in the cave. The next morning the storm had receded, and the sun again dominated the blue sky. The little wolf-cub was already stronger, and eating as voraciously as fat Dinkelbye. Vind had spent his watch thinking of the choices he had made. Not the present or the future, but the past. He had found a name for his new friend; Kahn. Kahn had been a good friend of Vind a long time ago, when Vind himself was lost and alone. But like so many of his friends from the past, Kahn was dead. Vind thought it appropriate to have the cub he had saved share the name of the man who had once given his life to rescue Vind.

-----"Yer gonna name it, too?" Grim asked with feigned resignation when he heard the news. But Vind had seen how Grim had left his position during his watch and fussed over the cub. He had even given him a piece of mutton and patted him. Vind only smiled at the surly dwarf.

-----"I think it's a fine name," Brom decided. Of course neither of the dwarves knew who the original Kahn was, and Vind was not yet ready to tell that story.

 

-----An hour later they where on their way away from Troll-mountains, the fat Dinkelbye on one of the horses, Brom and Kahn on the other. Vind walked between the riders, with Grim grumbling behind. In reaching the wagon they loaded what wares they could onto the second horse, forcing Brom to use his legs for the remainder of the trip.

-----"I'll return with a crew to repair the wagon and get the rest of the things later," Dinkelbye said.

-----"Be sure that ye have enough guards this time, then," Grim joked. All were relieved to see the dwarf's good mood returning. "I don't wanna have to come back and get ye one more time." They all shared a hearty laugh at that.

-----Brom handed Kahn, who was still enjoying the comfortable ride in the backpack, over to Vind. Two small, yellow eyes peeked up at him as he settled the backpack on his chest. Vind fell behind the others, his thoughts roaming. What might the future hold for him and his newest friend? He had no doubts anymore; it would be wonderful to have someone with whom he could share his lonely cabin. He smiled.

 

 

 

THE END... Or the beginning, really, of a beautiful friendship...

 

 

I changed many names to create a more fluent transition to english, so here follows a few notes to explain, and a peek into the world I'm creating... Though it is far from complete...

 

Trymsberg - not changed, named after the dwarf that founded the kingdom. translated:'Trym's mountain'

 

The Diamonds - originally called 'Diamantene'. A direct translation. Named such because of the majestic appearance of their snowy peaks. Forms a protective belt north and east of Åsheim. inhabited by the dwarves of Trymsberg.

 

Greywood - 'Gråskogen' simply named so because of it's gloomy interior. consists mostly of pines.

 

Troll-mountains - 'Trollfjellene' a range of mountains, rising straight from the sea and cutting eastwards through the land. inhabited by trolls (troll), orcs (orker), goblins (tusser).

 

Troll-pass - 'Trollpasset' is where the road from the northern cities of Granby and Vestmark takes a shortcut through the mountains gaining easier, but more dangerous, access to the southern coast town of Sjøvold, and further south to a more important city (yet to be named).

 

Sildra - not changed. a river that flows from Troll-mountains, through the hills of Greywood, and disappears underground somewhere in Dwarf Dale.

 

Dwarf Dale - 'Dvergdalen' is a beautiful valley hidden amidst the peaks of the Diamonds. not many except the dwarves know of it, though the dwarves' main entrance lies in this valley, they have opened another 'fake' entry in the south, to keep man away from this hidden 'Eden'.

 

Granby - not changed. translation: spruce(sp?) city. a coastal city, home to many merchant's ships, as it is the port gaining quickest access to the capital city of Westmark. many farms lie outside the city walls

 

Westmark - Vestmark. the capital of the western-most kingdom, also called Vestmark. It's history is still under development, but it's supposed to be a trading center, with many outlying farms. The western region of the world consists of several combined kingdoms, Vestmark being the top supplier of fish and lumber. It's also very rich in gold, and various other resources, only topped by the northernmost kingdom (work in progress) which is so far called Nordariket (Northrealm). Vestmark is also proud of it's farms, but can not even compare to that of the flat land east of the mountains (which is also a place very much 'in progress').

 

Trollspeil - not changed. meaning: Troll-mirror. a small lake where Vind lives, situated in the spruce-dominated forest north of Troll-mountains and south of Granby.

 

Finally; Being an inexperienced writer I'd really appreciate any tips on how to improve my english, and certainly also any comments on the story itself would be most welcome...

 

And if you've read this far; send me your adress and I'll mail you your medal! No, really, thanks for hanging in there! ^_^

 

EDIT: The story has now been slightly changed. I have fixed a few typos, tried to make it more fluent and adjusted it to support a second story I'm working on! Now it also is correct when matched up against the mating habbits of wolves... :lol:

 

EDIT #2: Dunno why I keep updating this... But if anyone's reading, I've now fixed several typos and taken away some of the linearity! Again with the help of Malchik!

[postaldudeleo]

Um, its a good story to tell to children. Its makes children feel warm and fuzzy inside. it makes me howl in pain and get a strong urge to gouge out my eyes and castrate myself to death just by looking at the spoiled little shits reading this. Little children suck ass.

 

I give you a 5/5. BTW im drunk right now so all the words seem a blur to me but i give 5/5 anyway. Kids suck, vodka rules! Je voudrais du biere!

[Kaningutten]

Thanks for the feedback... But this particular story wasn't meant for children. This is 'background-work' FOR a Childrens-book I'm working on. The purpose of the story was essentially to practise my english and make a background for how Vind and Ulv (Wolf) got together. I guess alchol and this story isn't the best combination... Or perhaps vodka is exactly what is needed to get through it :blink: ;)

 

Well, I did say 'Get a beer!' didn't I? :whistling:

[postaldudeleo]

and beer i did get :)