OUTCASTS: a fantasy short story

War brewed not far. Screams and shouts were heard behind him. Quietly, he evaded the warfare in the tall grass on the outskirts of Peen…

War brewed not far. Screams and shouts were heard behind him. Quietly, he evaded the warfare in the tall grass on the outskirts of Peen. The sky red with the setting of the sun descended as darkness crept in slowly. The air was warm, but uninviting. The wintry weather was close at hand. Braine of Northunder had traveled far and still had many more miles to go. His will had been great, and his tenacity had increased, but his stamina dwindled as he slowly continued down the rocky path from the Shrine of Toluth. Making a sacrifice, he kept moving.

Photo by Daniel Burka on Unsplash

He was a mason and carpenter by trade, a craftsman. He carried little food and belongings; a pipe and weed he had upon his person. A knife was sheathed in his tunic. A black cloak he wore; a hood around his serpent head hid his true identity. And dangling from around his neck we wore the insignia of his kind: A red blot and three stars in a triangular shape over it like stars shining in a night sky. He was not entirely Troll, however. A perverted breed, Troll and Man both. The story had been told him that he was found behind a brothel on the Eastern Coast in the town of Aca by a human family that nurtured and raised him. He adopted all of the cultures of Man, forgetting who he truly was.

When he was young, it wasn’t long before he knew the truth and ran away without a word desperate to find his own kind. But little did he know that what he was, was forbidden. It was against the law even in some countries. Everyone, both Man and Troll despised him, never letting him settle down in any region far and wide in the Land of Ga’far.

He stopped abruptly and saw the tavern down in the valley below. It was close and secluded, no one would suspect him there. This was to be the spot where he rested. Maybe a room was available, but he doubted.

He gazed upon the Great Mountains of Toluth, his strange god that was passed down to him from his ancestors. His blue eyes saw them and his scale-like green skin glistened in the shiny sun disappearing behind the horizon. Slowly, he made his way to the tavern. A dirt path that was led by a stone wall about two feet high held lanterns that lighted the path. An old man staggered home, drunk, and muttered profanities under his breath.
 Old and young men came out and in like clockwork. After they had drunk their fill, they lingered outside smoking pipes and rolling up cigars. The weed smell filled Braine’s large indented nostrils lovingly.

Inside, he quickly went to the end of the bar concealing his face. The eyes were a dead giveaway. Most trolls had sunken black eyes, but his were crystal blue, a mark of Man.

No one noticed and he shielded his face from the bartender who was in no rush to serve him. Men sat at tables smoking and drinking pints of ale and stouts. Grungy looks came his way and unwelcome coughs were made. Young men drank by the band that played fiddles and the reed. One had a guitar and another a mandolin. They slowly stopped playing while a young one motioned over at the troll, pointing. A black dog chained up to a pillar started barking in the middle of the room, wagging his tail. Everyone started to become quiet. The town was small, too small, Braine noticed.

I’ve come to the wrong place, he thought.

“Mister, what business you got here? We don’t get much strangers around here,” the bartender said.
 “I’ll be quick. In and out, I just need some rest and a pint, my friend.”

“Friend? Ain’t no friends in these parts. I’m Asher.” Asher wiped the counter and put the dirty glasses in the sink. He didn’t argue but glared around at the silenced crowd. Filling a pint with the house ale, he passed it to Braine as he looked out the dirtied window and sipped peacefully leaning against the ledge. He wiped his mouth and proceeded to clean his two white fangs with his knife picking out the grime.

Some men started to whisper. In the middle table where the dog was barking, a man got up. A big brute that was as tall as Braine strolled over. He had tattoos all over his right arm. A sword that impaled the head of a skull was prominently displayed. His head was shaved and had a black leather vest showing his hairy chest and built figure. A dagger hung from his side. He came up behind him. “We don’t get a lot of your kind around here. What’re you doing?”

“I’m not doin’ nothin’.”
 “Where do you hail from?”
 “Northunder.”
 “Ah, a pretty place I hear. Is it true they lay with the animals?”
 “Every word.”
 “Oh, is that how you were bred, Troll?” Two more men came close, one on either side of Braine. Both had knives.
 “As a matter of fact, My father laid with your mother, that’s how I came to be,” he said as he drank.
 “Oh, you’re real smart, huh?”
 “Actually, I don’t know how to read.”
 “You with the others? Out in the blood-soaked fields? What’ve we ever done to you?”
 “They brought war. I come in peace.”
 “It doesn’t matter. You’re all the same. Bloodthirsty trolls,” he snarled.
 Braine didn’t care for his remarks and so he gave the man what he wanted. He turned around slowly and faced the bully. “Troll? How ‘bout a pervert.” His blue eyes dazzled.

The room started to make some noise. The three men, shocked and appalled, staggered back.
 “So, it is true. They mate with trolls. We can’t have that here.”
 “Whatchu gonna do, boy,” Braine said, menacingly. The man grabbed him from behind with a choke hold, the dagger close to his throat.
 “First, I’m gonna pluck out your eyes and feed ’em to my dog over there. Then, I’m gonna cut out your tongue and throw it out the window. Then after that, my men will beat you ‘till you can’t even remember your own name.”

“That sounds pretty gruesome,” Braine said struggling, gasping for air. “But you know what I think? I think you’re full of it!” And he threw his head back hitting the man’s nose as he let go of his grip. He hit the one man with a stein mug on his right as he fell down hitting his head on the edge of the bar. Braine turned round and the left one came at him with his dagger. The man swung until Braine saw an opening. He grabbed his arm, broke it, took the knife, and stabbed him in the face. Tattoo man held his red nose, but squared up and screamed. Braine came at him quickly and stabbed him in the gut, falling to his knees; holding his stomach. Other men joined in and swung and deflected, but were beaten and stabbed profusely.

It wasn’t long until the whole bar had been either knocked unconscious or stabbed. Men groaned in pain. Blood spilled along the floor and tables. Chairs were broken and mugs shattered. Asher was the only one untouched. He hid behind the bar, brought out his sword, and waved it in Braine’s direction trembling. “You get out of here. Before, I kill you. Leave.”

Braine threw him some silver coins on the counter. “For the damages.”

Asher shuddered, took the coins, and fled. The dog barked more ferociously now and was wagging its tail. It jumped up and down trying to break free. Its owner lay in his own blood trying to calm it down, but it was no use. It refused to be comforted by him. It whimpered and licked Braine’s hand.

Braine approached him, “What did you say? You’ll pluck out my eyes and feed ’em to your dog? He looks hungry, probably hasn’t been fed in days. Look at its ribs, they’re showin’. We don’t want no dog to go hungry, now, do we?” He took the man’s dagger, grabbed his head violently, and dug out his eyes. He screamed in agony to stop, but Braine unperturbed, took them in his hand and fed them to the black lab.

“Now, who’s a good boy.” The dog munched on it for some time.
 “You’ll hang for this,” the man said his eyes defiled screaming.
 “Maybe, but I’ll be free.”
 “You’re insane.”

“Free from the disgust of this land. Free from restrictions. This is where I leave you, my friend.” The man pleaded for him to kill him, but Braine took no heed. He went over to a table with a piece of steak on it, threw it to the dog, and unchained it. He whistled to himself until it was free and it barked heartily. It wagged its tail and jumped up to Braine. He petted it softly and spoke to it gently. “I guess, we’re in this together now. Outlaws together. Outcasts forever.”

He removed the chain around his neck and it went speeding out the door. Braine grabbed some extra meat putting it in his pocket. He finished someone’s ale and went for the door. Glancing around the bloodied room, he dipped his hand in a pool of blood. Over the entrance of the door, he put a symbol. The Troll emblem. A big blot of red and three tiny dots over it like stars in the sky. It was a symbol of his people. It was a symbol of war. Warning anyone to stay away.