the crowd. Car’Al directed his gaze at the elder trolls.
Torgin stood and addressed the crowd, “This troll has disgraced himself, his family, and the village of the Karpacki Rock Trolls over and over throughout his life. It is my decision, with consent of the elders, to banish him from the village for the rest of his natural life. Does the village agree?” The crowd erupted. The noise was deafening as hundreds of rock trolls roared in agreement. “According to the ancient rules, the accused must choose his method of banishment.”
Car’Al stiffened. He searched his mind for the ancient rules of banishment. He was only familiar with rules established by the Elder Council fifty years prior.
“In accordance with the ancient rules, established in the times of our forefathers, the accused must survive a battle to the death. If he chooses not to survive, the banishment is fulfilled and his name shall remain in our records. If he chooses to survive, he will be banished for the rest of his natural life; all records of his existence will be wiped clean as if he never existed."
Car’Al felt his knees begin to buckle again as the shaking began to take control of him. He had never fought a real battle before. He wasn’t sure if he could survive. The thoughts scrambled in his brain. What was he to do? The silence of the arena pounded his ears.
“Let the punishment commence,” said Torgin, waving his hand dismissively. A large door at the opposite side of the arena grated open. A dark shape lumbered out and roared. It easily stood twelve feet tall and was a full troll’s arm span wide. It’s protruding, razor-toothed maw dripping slime as it focused on Car’Al. It flexed its spiked fingers and dug the talons on its feet into the ground, preparing to charge. He had only heard of this beast, a Braklitch, a monstrous beast spawned in the heat drenched bogs where the upper plains meet the sulfur pits, vicious in intent and incapable of mercy. His mouth stood agape in horror, surprise, and fear. The muscles in its chest and arms flexed. Then it charged.
In one motion, Car’Al dropped his pack and drew his sword; he assumed his guard position. He stood his ground as the beast drew near. He couldn’t believe how fast such a large creature could move. Right before it crashed into him, Car’Al jumped to his right, reversing his sword and pulling the back side of the edged curve against the monster’s inner thigh. The momentum caused Car’Al to be violently flung out and behind the beast. The Braklitch stumbled and gazed down at the wound that spurted black blood a full span in front of it and down its leg. It slowly turned to Car’Al as he climbed to his feet. He took his guard position again and prepared for another charge. He could see the hate radiating from the beast's eyes. The pure hatred in that stare was more startling than its appearance. He had never encountered a creature that so visibly loathed another being.
Despite the Braklitch’s hate, he had been wounded and was now weary of its prey. It slowly began to approach Car’Al, circling to its right as it came. He began to circle to his own right to match the beast. The Braklitch faked an attack causing him to bring up his sword as if to block. The beast swung a huge claw at Car’Al’s exposed side, raking it across his tough skin, shredding his clothes and drawing blood. Car’Al’s blood seemed to throw the Braklitch into a frenzy and it charged at him. Car’Al brought his sword around blocking claw strikes. He swung the sword out in front of him causing the Braklitch to jump backwards. It hesitated.
Car’Al took the moment to quickly inspect his wound. The white bone of his ribs could be seen through the cuts, and blood was running down his side from the wound. He knew that he was going to have to end this soon, or he was going to die.
Car’Al gripped the sword in both hands out in front of him. The Braklitch snarled with curled lips, drool and slime running down the front of its body. Car’Al charged, running in a direct line at the monster. The Braklitch cocked its head in surprise and ran at him.
Car’Al raised his sword as if to plunge it into the Braklitch’s chest. At the last minute he dropped down and slid under the beast. He raised the blade of the sword and sliced the beast’s already wounded leg. The strike almost severed the limb from the monster’s body. The beast fell to the ground writhing in pain, clawing its way forward. It tried to stand but couldn’t gain footing on the stone floor of the arena. It keened in pain, blood spurting out of the stump dragging behind.
Car’Al walked carefully up behind the Braklitch and placed his foot on the back of its neck pressing down his weight. He raised his sword, pausing to look directly at Torgin who wore a thick sneer, and drove the blade into the back of the beast’s neck, killing it instantly. The crowd grew silent as the beast’s twitching slowed. A cheer off to Car’Al’s left seemed to cut off in mid-roar as the silence took reign. It was his father. Car'Al saw his father smile, proud and overjoyed by his victory, now cowed as the elders all stood. “The accused is no more, and must leave the village, never to return. You are no more,” said Torgin and the elders in one voice.
Car’Al pointed his blade to the council and said, “If these are the kinds of traditions and rules you all live by, I’m ashamed to have come from you. I am not banished. I leave a free troll, of my own will, and proud of whom I am.” If these were his people, he no longer wanted anything to do with them.
The pain wrenching his side brought the reminder of his wound back to the forefront of his consciousness. He took off what was left of his shirt and wrapped it around his side. He knew that he would have to sew up the wound, but it would have to wait. He wiped the blood from his blade and sheathed it. He pulled on his pack and walked from the arena. As he left, the humming from the crowd began to grow to a buzz. By the time he reached the village again, the crowd, still in the arena, was roaring. Car’Al assumed that it was mostly about the battle he had just won. As far as he knew, no troll, not commissioned in the militia, had ever defeated a Braklitch, especially no troll as young as Car’Al.
III
Car’Al walked back through the village amongst the mixture of empty stone and timber huts. He had never seen the village completely empty before, and it struck him as strange. A dried brush weed blew across the dirt street, and he could feel the loneliness more heavily than ever before. He thought that he was alone growing up, but it had never been as sharp as it was now, standing in the middle of an empty street in an empty village, no friends, no family. Alone. The sadness of all that he was leaving behind tugged at his chest, but it was for all the things the he had never really had.
He really wasn't leaving much behind, except a father who was finally proud of him. He turned and headed toward the forest. The life that Car’Al knew and hated was over. He now was going to have to rely on the skills he had learned growing up. He knew it was going to be hard, but he also knew that he had more skills available to him than he was yet aware of. Perhaps, Car’Al thought, some of the violence I hated about my own people would keep me alive out in the wilds. He didn’t know what the future was to bring, but he did know that it would be on his terms.
As he began to enter the forest, Car’Al looked back and gazed one last time upon the houses and huts of his village amongst mountains. He turned and took the first steps of his new life, his new beginning, and disappeared amongst the trees.
Additional Works
By
Jacob Donley
Short Stories Series
Chronicles of a Rock Troll:
#1 New Beginning
Follow Car’Al and learn of the conflict that drives his will to fight his nature as a Rock Troll and his very own village.
#2 A Path of Justice
Car'Al makes his way out of the mountains and forests of his homeland to explore the new world and all its wonders. He begins his quest to find a people to call his own. Follow Car'Al as he interacts with the races and does his best to keep new friends safe.
***
The Colliding Empires
#1 A Storm of Chaos
Aithne is a priestess in the cult of Kaalnor, the god of chaos. She will do anything to rise from the lowly third orde
r to prestigious first order. This is one of her stories along that path in the land of Weirth amongst the colliding empires of Trimak and Grynith. A tale of The Colliding Empires Collection.
***
The Colliding Empires
#2 A Chosen Path
Aithne is a priestess in the cult of Kaalnor, the god of chaos. She will do anything to rise from the lowly third order to prestigious first order. This is one of her stories along that path in the land of Weirth amongst the colliding empires of Trimak and Grynith. A tale of The Colliding Empires Collection.
***
Stand Alone Short Stories
Tracer’s Lament
Broan is the survivor of a great war. He has trekked the countryside alone for years as the remnants of the once two great armies fell a part to bands and then roaming individuals. Follow Broan through his adventure where he may just find friendship in the most improbable companion.
***
Tears of Blood
An Airship commander must make a decision concerning the captain that will change the lives everyone aboard the ship forever.
***
www.jacobdonley.com
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