The Curious Troll

  Copyrights

  eBook First Published in 2014 by Autharium Publishing, London

  Copyright © Paul J Ward 2014

  The moral right of Paul J Ward to be asserted as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All Rights reserved, No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.

  British Library Cataloguing-in Publication Data

  A catalogue record for this book is available on request from the British Library

  ISBN: 9781780255859

  TALES OF LANDFALL

  THE CURIOUS TROLL

  Paul J. Ward

  Introduction

  The Curious Troll is the first Tale of Landfall written specifically for younger children. Now, if you are an adult reading this to a child, or possibly a teacher to a class, and you hopefully enjoy it, then you might kindly look up The Song of the Unicorn ~ A Tale of Landfall.

  Please beware!

  The Song of the Unicorn is very much for older readers, depicting the rise of the Cyclops Empire. It’s full of strange, mythical creatures, and colorful characters.

  From time to time, some of these creatures and characters will appear in Tales of Landfall.

  So yes, there will be more children’s Tales of Landfall.

  I hope you enjoy!

  Paul J. Ward

  MAP OF LANDFALL

  CHAPTER 1

  Curl was a troll. Not a very big troll, because he was only twelve years old. Although he thought he was big for his age. And he was bored, so very, very bored.

  "I hate this stinking place!" he groaned, not too loudly. After all, he didn't want his parents to hear. He wasn't too worried because he knew they were still fast asleep, somewhere in the ooze and slime that was known as the Black Swamp.

  Curl's eyes and mouth were just above the surface of the swamp, which was deep enough to cover a full-grown troll from head to toe. The rest of Curl's body was hidden under the smelly, dark fluid that had always been his home.

  "I want excitement and adventure!" he cried out, but this time more loudly than he intended. It was enough to scare some crows nesting in the nearby trees, and they flew away in alarm.

  The excited squawk from the birds startled Curl and he ducked his head back under the surface of the Black Swamp. Eventually his head reappeared and his eyes, wide like saucers, looked at the trees.

  "It's only the birds, Curl!" he scolded himself. "If only it was a dragon!" he wailed. "At least that would bring some excitement!"

  As the birds flew away they squawked loudly again. It startled Curl once more and he ducked back under the swamp, so that the warm ooze and stinking slime filled his ears. The slime tickled his ears, making him laugh, and he quickly forgot about the birds.

  But Curl was still thinking about dragons and adventure.

  "That's it!" he declared happily, lifting his head above the surface of the Black Swamp again. "I'm going to track down a dragon!"

  As the ooze dribbled out of his rather large, pointy ears (which were also very hairy), it really did tickle!

  Curl looked around nervously, worried that his parents had heard him.

  "Sshh!" he said crossly, placing a bony finger to his thin, almost invisible lips. "Sshh Curl, sshh!"

  Satisfied that he'd given himself a good telling off, Curl headed towards the bank. "If I leave now," he whispered to himself, "I'll be back before it gets dark."

  He smiled mischievously, happy with his plan. He would go and find a dragon and be back before dark. (That's when trolls wake up, and, if they are feeling naughty, they scare people in the local villages. Mostly, they mind their own business and hunt in the nearby woods).

  His parents wouldn't even notice he'd been gone. After all, he was a man troll now, no longer an infant troll who depended on his parents for food. And, even if his parents saw that he was gone, well, maybe then they would finally realise that he was no longer a child.

  Maybe.

  Maybe not!

  He didn't want to upset mama or papa troll. They turned green when they were angry. And purple if they were particularly cross.

  He pushed such thoughts away as he climbed out of the Black Swamp onto the soggy bank.

  Curl thought about food and water, deciding that he would eat some berries and drink from the stream, as he made his way through the woods.

  Suddenly, another head popped up from the ooze, not far away from the bank. "What are you doing?" the female voice said tiredly, as if she'd been disturbed from her slumber. In truth she had, for Curl had kicked her in the head as he'd pulled himself out of the swamp.

  It had been an accident of course. Trolls have thick heads, so it wouldn't have hurt.

  Curl turned and looked at the head of the female troll. He felt relief that it was only his cousin called Strim. One thing was for sure; Strim wouldn't dob him in, unlike his younger brother Serl. His sibling would have screamed, "Curl is running away! Na, nah, na, nah, na, nah!"

  Curl waved his hand at his cousin. "Go back to sleep, Strim!" Curl ordered. "You ain't seen nothin'!"

  "I ain't seen nothin'!" Strim agreed without argument and, with a nasty slurp on some slime, disappeared back into the Black Swamp.

  Curl grinned, revealing his crooked teeth, before running towards the woods.

  His search for a dragon had begun!

  CHAPTER 2

  "Oh, I'm so tired!" Curl whined, as he walked aimlessly through the woods. He'd no idea where he was going and he was utterly lost. "This is Strim's fault!" he complained. "She made me search for a dragon!"

  Now, there was some truth to Curl's words because Strim had argued that dragons didn't really exist. "Dragons will eat you!" Curl had argued. "That's why we're not allowed to leave the swamp or the woods."

  Strim had told him he was being stupid and it was a trick that full grown trolls used to keep infant trolls from wandering off. It had worked, because trolls only left the swamp to hunt in the woods. (Oh, and trolls sometimes hid under bridges to scare humans. They thought this was very funny).

  Anyway, Curl didn't believe a word of it, declaring that he would find a dragon to prove it.

  "You go find a dragon!" Strim had teased, laughing at her cousin. "But you'll be looking for a very, very long time!"

  So, it was very easy to blame Strim for his misery now. If she'd only agreed with him, well, he wouldn't be here now. Instead he would have been snug in the swamp, fast asleep with his brother Serl.

  There was a loud rumble like thunder. "I'm so hungry!" Curl cried, holding his furry belly in his hands. His supper of berries and birds seemed like a long while ago.

  He looked around the trees, trying to find a bush with his favourite berries. He couldn't see one and wondered if he could catch a bird instead. (In truth, he never had). There were no birds around, as they'd all flown away as he trampled on twigs and broken branches.

  His belly rumbled loudly again.

  Actually, it was a ghastly, horrible groan.

  "Over here!" a friendly voice shouted from behind a nearby tree.

  "Who said that?" Curl asked, leaning over to one side to see around the tree.

  There was no one there.

  "Over here my good fellow!" the voice repeated.

  Curl forgot about his hunger and walked towards the tree. He wasn't scared because trolls don't scare easily. They simply do the scaring.

  And Curl was unusually curious, well, for a troll.

  "Where are you?" Curl asked, trying to sound as grown up as possibly.

  "Up here!
" the voice replied, from somewhere overhead.

  Curl looked up and was blinded by the glare from the morning sun. He shuffled his large, somewhat hairy feet (which by the way had just four toes), until he was in the shadow of the tree.

  He looked up again and sure enough someone, or rather something, was hanging upside down from a large branch.

  “Hello there!” the strange looking creature said, with a beaming smile.

  “Hello,” Curl replied, less courteously, wondering if the creature was something that he could eat. He supposed not. After all, that would be just rude.

  Curl studied the creature, wondering what it was. It looked a bit like a human but it was hard to tell with it hanging upside down.

  “What are you doing?” Curl asked, deciding that if he couldn’t eat it, well, perhaps it would know where he could find a dragon.

  “What am I doing?” the creature repeated, in an odd tone. “What are you doing? Trolls don’t venture this far into the woods, especially infant trolls. Are you lost?”

  “I’m not an infant troll!” Curl cried out, stamping his foot angrily. “I’m nearly a full-grown man troll!”

  The creature laughed, suddenly swinging himself around on the branch. He was now sat upright, rather than hanging upside down.

  “But you are lost,” the creature said with a cheeky grin, peering down at the angered troll.

  Curl’s face turned purple. He’d always had a terrible temper, but then all trolls did.

  “Yes, I’m lost!” he admitted angrily. His stomach rumbled loudly again, like thunder. He was so hungry it hurt.

  “Oh, I say!” the creature exclaimed with a laugh. “A hungry lost troll!”

  “It’s not funny!” Curl replied, feeling very cross now. He decided that he didn’t like this creature at all.

  “Well, I was coming down,” the creature said, peering down at Curl with an uncertain look on his face. “But I reckon you might try to eat me if I do.”

  Curl scowled, shuffling his feet as he thought about it. “No I won’t!” he declared. “Not if you help me.”

  “Well, my dear fellow!” the creature said happily. “Of course I will help you! Now, what is it you want?”

  “I want to find a dragon,” Curl replied, looking up at the branch where the creature had been sat.

  The creature had gone.

  “Really?” a voice said from behind him.

  Curl span around on his tree trunk legs and nearly fell over. He stared wide-eyed at the creature from the tree.

  “You really want to find a dragon?” the creature asked, looking at Curl curiously, with dark blue eyes.

  Curl nodded, trying to work out what this creature was. It did look like a human but it had small, pointy ears. Its arms and legs also looked too long for its body. There wouldn’t be much meat on those bones he decided.

  “Yes,” Curl finally replied, trying to ignore his hunger. “I’m looking for a dragon.”

  The creature placed his hands on his knees and doubled over with laughter. After a while he stopped laughing and dried his eyes.

  “Now, why in the name of Landfall do you want to do that?” the creature asked, struggling to control his sniggering.

  Curl looked thoughtful. “Because Strim doesn’t believe they exist,” he explained, “and I’m going to prove her wrong.”

  The creature cupped his chin with his hand. “Strim?” he asked with a frown, scrunching his dark eyebrows on his pale face.

  “My cousin,” Curl replied, doing a seesaw action with his thumb over his shoulder.

  “Your cousin,” the creature repeated, copying the seesaw action with his own thumb. “And your cousin is where exactly?”

  “At the Black Swamp,” Curl answered, as if it was obvious.

  “Of course!” the creature declared, sounding oddly relieved.

  Curl was growing bored. “So, can you help me or not?” he grumbled, holding his equally grumbling belly.

  “I am at your service,” the creature bowed (without taking his eyes off the hungry troll). “But first let us eat!”

  Curl watched as the creature vanished again. It wasn’t long before the creature returned, holding two large bags of something.

  “Ta-dah!” the creature declared. “Food, glorious food! One for you and one for me!”

  The creature thrust a bag towards the troll. Curl reached out to take it but the creature let go. The bag dropped to the ground and its contents spilled out.

  “Ha, ha! Tricked you!” the creature said with a laugh.

  Curl didn’t care because his eyes were drilled to the contents of the bag that had spilled over the floor. He felt saliva fill his mouth as he eyed the delicious looking morsels; giant snails, huge brown chestnuts, and bright red berries.

  “Well, up eat!” the creature urged him, before popping a chestnut into his mouth. He crunched into the shell and expertly spat it out (something you should never do at home). “Yum, that’s good!” he declared, chewing on the nut, eyeing up another.

  Curl scooped up a giant snail and rammed it into his mouth. He made quick work of it, crunching through shell and all. Black juices ran down his chin. He quickly devoured two more snails before cramming a handful of juicy berries into his mouth.

  It tasted so, so good!

  CHAPTER 3

  Curl groaned. Well, it was more of a contented purr. His grumbling belly was finally full. He’d eaten his bagful of food while his unknown savior was still munching through a handful of nuts and berries.

  “So, who are you?” Curl asked. The young troll was now able to put his mind back onto other things.

  “Me?” the unknown creature asked, chewing a mouthful of berries. “Well, of course you mean me!” he laughed at himself. “There’s no one else around, is there?”

  He looked at Curl suspiciously as if there might be. It was still strange for trolls to venture this far from the Black Swamp. Trolls never came out in the day, unless they were starving. Besides, food in Landfall was plentiful, as long as you knew where to find it. He decided this was a curious troll indeed.

  “My name is Eve’rern, son of Ma’lock, from the family of Giverish,” Eve’rern replied, standing to bow formally at the troll. Eve’rern was wearing brown trousers and a blue jacket that had shiny gold buttons. Oddly, he had nothing on his feet.

  Curl looked dumbfounded, while a mixture of black and red juices dribbled down his chubby chin. His mouth moved as if was going to say something but all that came out was, “Eh?”

  “Eve’rern,” the creature repeated pleasantly. “My name is Eve’rern.”

  “Ev-Even-Evran?” Curl attempted, with a splutter.

  Eve’rern shook his small head. “Eve,” he said slowly, “rern.”

  “Evern!” Curl declared, looking pleased.

  Eve’rern sighed. “Just call me Eve,” he said, clapping his hands onto his legs. “Believe me, elves get called a lot worse!”

  Curl launched himself back to his feet from where he was resting after his feast. “Elves!” he cried out in horror. “You’re an elf?”

  Eve’rern nodded, taking a couple of steps back from the troll. “Yes, I’m an elf!” he confirmed. “What did you think I was? A dwarf? A human? Perhaps a glinph or a da’leth?” He laughed, despite feeling a little bit nervous.

  “Papa says that elves are thieves and liars!” Curl declared. “And that they should be eaten alive!”

  Eve’rern looked somewhat alarmed. “I can assure you dear sir, that elves are not thieves or liars. We only take what Landfall gives us, and we tell stories, well, to those that will listen.”

  Curl sat back down, looking thoughtful again. “Do you know stories about dragons?” he asked, looking hopeful.

  Eve’rern smiled. “I only know one, about a great and powerful dragon that elves call Slayer.”

  “Tell me!” Curl urged the elf, his eyes pleading.

  “Well, elves expect something in return for their fables,” Eve’rern replied, sittin
g down and crossing his long legs.

  Curl looked forlorn. He’d only got a few pebbles and rocks, for throwing at birds and rabbits. “I have nothing to give!” he declared.

  Eve’rern laughed. “You have friendship to give, do you not?”

  Curl furrowed his thick brow disapprovingly. “Trolls are only friends with trolls and then only within their own clans.”

  Eve’rern looked amused. “Of course,” he nodded. “So your friendship would be of great value to an elf and, in return, I will tell you about the great dragon, known as Slayer.”