The Trial Of A Troll Impersonator (Alleged)

The Assizes of the Empirica were a foreboding building set in the regional town of Busillis in Lucerna. The circuit hearings were always a popular affair with the locals and a high point of the social calendar for the many good folk of the Lucerna. Here, once every quarter, they could pack the kids in the cart, throw in some loaves of bread and a keg of best dwarven ale and go off to town to take in the show, as the trial was referred to, and the sights. 

The "sights" were hugely popular. Here the family could entertain themselves by throwing rotting matter at those held in the stocks; witness or even take part in a flogging or ducking (gender specific) and occasionally...ever so ocassionally enjoy the special treat of an execution. The popularity of punsihments tended to vary according to the race or faction of the audience. Hanging drawing and quartering always attracted the brothers of the Empirica whilst the discerning Elf might take discreet delight in the wrack stretching of dwarves which the elves tended to view as  a humane corrective procedure.  In contrast the dwarves would flock to and fight over the front seats whenever an "Ear Cropping" was to be had.

The scene is set then for the trial of an elf from Keshalia who was accused of the most shocking abomination of "Troll Impersonation" (with intent to cause harm by way of improper conduct).

The proceedings were to be presided over by the Circuit judge for Eastern Illryiad. The right Honourable Sir Hugh Jars was a man of enormous proportions and an unpredictable reputation. He had held the position for 42 years; dispensing the King's justice and discharging judgements as he saw fit. He was however of a venerable age; rather deaf and prone to bouts of amnesia. When not presiding over Court proceedings, the right honourable gentleman usually indulged himself with succulent and exotic game pies washed down with goblets of the finest wines in the land.

To return to the trial in question in a court that was packed to the rafters with persons who had travelled far and wide. Sir Hugh Jars entered the Court and eased his distinctly large frame in to an equally large but creaking old oak chair at the head of the Court whilst the clerks, lawyers and the defendant elf were positioned in the centre aisle before him.  Sir Hugh then lifted his gavel and slammed it three times against the bar of the bench at which; the cacophony of noise and chatter immediately fell slient. All eyes fell upon the Elf standing in the centre with naught but a satchel at his side. The prosecutor looking down his nose noticed that this elf was "utterly no irritatingly calm and yes, was that an insolent smile? Indeed it was. Such impudence". The prosecutor was going to feel a great deal of satisfaction when Sir Hugh dealt with this one.

"The clerk of the Court will now read the charges laid before the bench." thundered the old judge at which point a long list of alleged crimes were  read out in such rapid fashion that it was impossible to follow. Before the list had finished however the old judge had nodded off and had to be gently prodded by the clerk, a gnome of diminutive stature, into a waking state of consciousness. 

Sir Hugh then addressed the impudent elf "Aneirin of Keshaila son of Redfist, son of Arawn and Ossian and Bragdush the bald an... what the deuce is this ? How can one elf have 5 fathers and this last name is that of an orc" Sir Hugh's jaundiced gaze first settled on the clerk who visibly shrank even further than it is possible for a gnome to shrink. 

Sir Hugh then turned back to Aneirin and said "What is the meaning of this and it had better be good?" Aneirin replied immediately with due deference. " Well now your honour thereby hangs the tale. However,  your magnificence, before I explain I need to show you these uhmm exhibits that I have in my bag" and before the town watch could stop him he produce 6 steaming hot pheasant and peacock pies and a flagon of impeccable Lucerna Red. These he placed directly before the already salivating lips of the most senior Court judge in all Lucerna. 

By now the judge was drooling and without further ado he brought his gavel down for one more time and declared " Court is adjourned the defendant and I shall retire to my chambers to uhmm savour... I mean examine this evidence in detail.....

 

 

Next to the Court in the town of Busillis stands the waystation and stables of the far famed Royal Messenger Service.  Indeed King Sigurdsen maintained a stables in almost every city, town and village throughout the land. The Messenger service selected only the finest steeds from local  which were mostly sired and bred for the speed and stamina that His Majesty's Messengers required.  This particular stables contained the stallions from the Keshalian city of Ordu Kush some 3 days ride to the east and were said to be a gift to His Majesty from Tipu Khan himself.

 

Night had descended as Createure and his retinue of inebriated kobolds came level with stables he suddenly stumbled to a stop for he had suddenly experienced something quite rare amongst Orcs. Createure had an idea!

It must be explained that Createure was no ordinary Orc. He was a servant of the Harmeless(?) Alliance. H? as they were normally referred to,  were both powerful and feared, not least by the orcs who served in their ranks for they required the utmost obedience in all things. Now to teach an Orc obedience is no mean feat for , as everyone knows an Orc's natural instincts is to be "carnivorous"  indeed some would say that it is an overriding instinct.

 

Createure's idea was to alert his masters in Harmless(?) to the shenanigans of Aneirin and take credit for apprehending (or more correctly eating) the same.  From inside his jerkin he pulled a messenger pigeon with expression intention of letting it fly to it's roost many miles away. However the consumption of too much ale caused his stomach to rumble and with an instinctive reaction, caught in a moment of helplessness, Createure did something that his masters (and mistresses) would later make him regret. He bit the head off the pigeon and swallowed it whole. 

 

Spitting feathers and in a high mood of Orcish bloodlust the Commander and his kobold cohort lurched forward towards the Court House and as they approrached the entrance were met by a single solitary figure wearing glasses.

 

As a gnome the Clerk to the Circuit Court of Busillius took his job and position seriously. How dare these drunken ruffians treat the Court with such contempt he thought.  As the Orc Commander staggered towards him the bespectacled Clerk drew himself to his full height of  2-11 and commanded them to Stop in the name of the Law!

 

Createure belched and asked "Who be you?" to which the gnome answered those fateful words. My name is Parry Hotter ... At this the Orc let out a howl of laughter, picked the gnome took several lifesize bites out of his latest snack and threw the rest to thekobolds. With that Createure kicked in the entrance doors and marched inside ...

 

Outside - from the corner of the waystation, a shadowy figure emerged and unfurled his elven cloak. He gave a low mewling whistle towards the stallions of Ordu Kush. They, in turn gave an affectionate whinny and trotted to wards the figure.  After nuzzling six of the proud beasts in greeting Aneirin led them Ordu Kush fashion ie without bridle and saddle to the edge of town. He mounted the first and sped off with the others following like the winds of the plains from whence they came. Across the fields and meadows they sped, in high spirits for rider and steeds were free and heading  home ...

 

In the south eastern part of Norweld lies the small city of an unassuming and reclusive Lord. The city itself appears  as unremarkable as it's Lord and is often overlooked  by travellers  in those parts - and yet if those same travellers new the secret that lay within those walls they would flock from miles around with petitions seeking to remedy the injustices that the Royal Courts had failed to quell.  Unbeknown to them this city housed the headquarters of  "The Trollhunters" . A group of highly trained elite indivdulals who were devoted to their master and dedicated to ridding Illyriad of this pestinential vermin. This society did not have Royal Approval  nor were they faction of King Sigurds Court. They were totally independant and set up for the benefit of the peoples of Illyriad. They were secretive, incorrputable ( well some of the time) and solved the crimes that Royal Courts failed to deal with. Consequently they were held in high regard by the ordinary folk of Illyriad   and their founder was seen as something of a super hero amongst the peasantry.  But who he and they were in real life was a closely guarded secret.

His reputation had gained a growing respect across Illyriad for he was known as The TrollFinder General and when he discovered  a troll in the neighbourhood you could be sure that his "special agent" would pursue it to the end of Illyriad and beyond....but who was this mysterious masked Super Hero and how had come by his present reputation...?