Jennifer M. Zeiger's Blog, page 53

Stagecoach Mission

Welcome to the start of a brand new adventure involving you as a spy. Read on and vote at the end for how you’d like to proceed in your mission.

Good luck!

Stagecoach Mission

Mud squishes beneath every step you take. The recent rains have turned all the dirt into a sticky muck that adds ten pounds to your feet. Trying to keep as much of the mud off of you as possible, you walk along the side of the road where patches of grass still grows.

This is one of the joys of being a spy, you suppose. You have to go out in all types of weather.

Your master’s instructions were clear. Figure out who’s attacking the King’s road and take care of them. Now.

Within the last several weeks, five stagecoaches full of the King’s treasure have been attacked. The treasure is for a treaty between the King and the neighboring country to the north and, now that half the treasure’s gone, the King’s in a rage. All available people have been sent out to figure out what’s happening.

You were given the task of spying on Shelton, one of the towns along the next stage’s route. Several other spies were sent out to other towns but you’re pretty sure Shelton’s the place to be.

Whoever’s attacking the stage has kept their attacks random but some of the elements are always the same.

The road’s always heavily wooded and the nearest town is always small. Plus, Shelton’s the most isolated because it sits between the Ridgeway Forest and Lake Patricia. To get to the next town, you have to follow the road all the way around the lake, which is a two day trip in good weather…and the weather’s been anything but good.

The town you just came from is three days behind you. By horse you could reach the last town faster but the terrain’s rough since Shelton sits in a mountain pass. All in all, it’s the best location for an ambush of the next stage and, the two lawmen stationed in Shelton would be hard pressed to catch a whole group of thieves by themselves.

As you walk along, you see the Ridgeway forest start to materialize ahead. The land rolls, so every time you crest the next hill, you’re able to make out the trees a little better.

Finally reaching the edge of the forest, you step off the road and into the trees. If the thieves are near Shelton, they have to be hiding in the forest somewhere and, most likely, they’re watching the road. You’d prefer not to be seen by them.

Taking a stick, you lean against a tree and try to dislodge the mud from your boots while you consider your next move. Shelton’s about a half an hour away now.

You could continue through the forest and head into town to get a feel for who’s there. Considering you have to stop the thieves if you find them, it might not be a bad idea to get a feel for who could be helpful. The two lawmen you know are stationed there might not be enough to stop a whole band of thieves.

However, being in town also blinds you to what’s happening in the forest. If the thieves are near by, spying on the road might reveal their location and what kind of attack they’re planning.

So do you…

A. Head into town?

Or

B. Spy on the road?

Blessings,

Jennifer

(Please post a comment with your choice. One vote per post please but comment as much as you like=) This makes counting votes easier. Voting will end at 8pm Mountain Time Wednesday. I’ll post whichever option gets the most votes Thursday and we’ll see how the adventure goes!)

Troll Testing Part Two

Welcome to the second part of Troll Testing. Reader’s asked for more story involving Broman the troll, so here it is.

For those of you who missed Tuesday, just know that Broman is required to bring back the first child for dinner to pass his test as a troll. So far he’s ‘changed’ into a human and gotten himself invited to one of the kid’s houses for dinner. Now he’s playing ball with the girl in hopes of finding a moment to snatch her away.

Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy=)

Troll Testing Part Two

Broman kept the ball moving until the sun sank below the horizon.

“I’d best go in,” Maddy said.

Broman approached her as though to return the ball. His limbs were heavy.  Now, Broman.

Maddy’s hands closed around the ball and Broman moved, picking her up around the waist at the same time as his hand covered her mouth.

Her scream come out muffled against his palm. Running into the trees, he tried to ignore her feet kicking the tops of his legs.

He left the town behind and headed back toward the troll clearing, where the first trainee to appear with a child would earn the highest praise. Most of the trainees probably hadn’t even started to capture their child.

A grin broke across Broman’s face at the thought of Faden’s praise. Then a whoosh distracted him. Something slammed into his side, and Maddy flew from his grasp.

Rising to his feet, Broman let go of his human form. The change saved his life as Marrik’s fist connected with his chest instead of his chin.

“Knew you’d come up with something cleaver,” Marrik grumbled. “Now I’m going to steal your prize.”

A constricted scream escaped Maddy’s mouth. She tried to rise and then screamed with a full breath when her ankle took her weight.

“Stay right there, sweet,” Marrik mocked.

Broman charged him, trying to sweep his legs out from under him. Marrik laughed, stepping aside and throwing Broman against a tree. The wood cracked like a thunder clap. His shoulder flared with pain but it wasn’t that that held Broman’s attention. He couldn’t draw breath. Air wheezed past his throat.

“So weak,” Marrik turned to retrieve Maddy, who was trying to crawl away toward the village. She hadn’t made it very far.

Wrapping his fingers around her tiny arm, he picked her up, eyeing her form. “Kinda scrawny, Broman, but the challenge doesn’t specify, I guess, on how big the kid is. Still though, maybe I should try a bite just to make sure the Masters don’t refuse my find.” Drool dribbled down his chin at this idea.

“NO! Help me!” Maddy’s eyes begged Broman.

Marrik chuckled, pulling out her other arm to bite into it like a chicken leg.

A full breath finally rushed into Broman’s chest. Pain radiated through his shoulder but it didn’t keep him from getting to his feet. Pulling the tree free from the last splinters holding it into the ground, Broman roared and swung it into Marrik’s middle.

Maddy hit the ground and Marrik doubled in two. He slammed into another tree, head cracking back and caving in with a crunch. Broman stood stock still for a moment before it dawned on him that Marrik wasn’t going to move again.

He glanced at Maddy. She stared back, eyes big with fright.

“Go,” he said.

She whimpered.

“GO!”

She bolted, hobbling on her bad ankle like an injured deer.

A roar behind him rocked through Broman’s skull. Fear tightened in his throat to the point he questioned if he could ever breathe again. Turning to look, he made out two large, gleaming eyes before he was about to discern the hulking form of Faden.

“You killed one of your own to let a human go free?!”

There was no denying it. Faden must have been watching all day, keeping stock of his trainee. The Master troll roared again and Broman saw murder in his scared face.

Faden was too big, too skilled, for Broman to fight. He’d barely survived Marrik.

Broman ran before Faden finished venting his frustration. He crashed through the trees, hearing the sound of an earthquake following after him, and could only hope his smaller size would save his life.

***

The tavern was quiet. It was one of those rare nights when only a few people stopped by for dinner before heading home.

Greg leaned against the side, watching the few remaining figures meander along Main Street. He should head in to finish up cleaning but he was using the last dregs of his pipe as a reason to lean a while longer.

A figure ambling down the street caught his eye. He was able to name everyone in town. He couldn’t name this man, however.

He was big. Maybe a lumberman from the size of his shoulders. But one arm was pulled tight to the man’s chest with what might have been an extra shirt. As he drew closer, Greg made out tired, dark eyes. The man stopped as a child ran across his path in pursuit of her father. The tired eyes softened for a moment as they watched April pass.

Greg’s heart went out to the man. He reminded him of himself when he’d come back from the war.

“Headed far, stranger?” he called.

The man looked up, surprised. “Maybe.”

Greg chuckled. “Can you clean with that one good arm?”

“Of course.”

“Than help me clean and you’ve dinner and a room for the night.”

The man’s eyes brightened. “You’ll get no argument from me. Got any pork?”

Greg chuckled, both surprised at the question and that the man ducked through the door.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I might be able to rustle up some pork.”

The End

Blessings,

Jennifer

Troll Testing Part One

So a few weeks ago I wrote a story involving a shape changing troll by the name of Broman. Much to my surprise, readers unanimously asked for more story involving this troll.

So welcome to Troll Testing…I hope you enjoy=)

Troll Testing

“They’re the easiest to catch, the most trusting and the weakest…” Faden trailed off as the children drew close to their hiding spot in their game of ball. When they moved away again, Faden picked up his instruction. “They’re also the tastiest, but watch out. Humans have a strange connection with their young. They’ll track you and burn you with fire.”

Faden turned to display the scared side of his bulbous face.

Broman eyed those scares with envy. They were a sign of success, of the large troll’s strength. Some day he’d bear such scares and the others would envy him.

“You listening, Stump!” Faden’s fist smacked Broman’s temple.

Stumbling backwards, Broman caught himself on a tree before he stepped out into the meadow. He held his breath as the tree wobbled but then it stilled and none of the children seemed to notice.

“Yes, my Master,” he said as Faden raised his fist again.

The fist paused and Faden narrowed his eyes. “You’re a disgrace. No wonder your sir abandoned you.”

All Broman could do was nod. Faden took him in only because he lacked young to pass his legacy on to. He couldn’t care less about Broman beyond the ability to show him off like he’d taken rotten meat and turned it into roast.

“Then tonight at the challenge, prove it. You don’t come back with the first child and you’ll never be welcome in my cave again.”

Broman’s stomach heaved. The threat shouldn’t bother him. He’d been trained to change and hunt, and trolls in general were solitary beings. The threat should actually excite him. The chance to live on his own, to make his own name. But it didn’t. It scared the crumbling teeth out of him.

Faden stalked off and Broman watched his hulking back until he couldn’t see him anymore. Then he turned his eyes on the children playing in the meadow.

Three boys and two girls.

He had to bring one back for dinner tonight before the other trainees.

The blond girl kicked the ball and it bounced off the tree next to the goal. The others sent jeers her way but she smiled at their words. Broman frowned.

The trolls played such games but the jeers were serious. If one threatened to knock the other out for missing the next goal, he had to follow through on the threat.

Hunkering down in the bushes, Broman continued to watch until an idea began to form. It’d never been tried before but, considering his small stature, it might be a better way to capture a child.

He stood and stretched his legs. Then he focused on his form. Being a Changer came easily to him. It’s what caught Faden’s eye when he was picking a trainee. Faden told him often he would have picked Marrik because of his size and savagery, but Marrik was slow in his shape changing. All trolls were capable of it but not all had the mental capacity.

Hunting, however, was not easy for Broman. He over thought everything and, since Faden figured out his weakness, he’d pushed him for more savagery and less thought.

Broman’s heavy shoulders narrowed and his stature shrank even more. For a moment his tongue felt too big for his mouth and then everything settled into place. Looking at his hands to make sure, Broman saw narrow pink fingers lacking enough hair and sleeves too long for his arms.

He took in his belt to accommodate the ‘human’ form and rolled his sleeves up past his elbows. Then he combed his fingers through his hair a few times. Humans seemed to like tidy hair he’d noticed. It was just another sign of the things he thought too much about. But perhaps he could turn his observations to his advantage.

Faden would be proud of him yet.

And with that thought, Broman stepped out into the meadow and waved at the children.

“Mind if I join your game for a while?”

***

“Mom! We’ve got a guest for dinner!”

Broman ducked through the door behind the girl. He didn’t need to duck but it was a habit that, even in his changed form, he couldn’t quite break.

“Maddy, you know you’re supposed to ask before bringing friends home for dinner,” a woman stepped into the entry hall with a towel thrown over her shoulder. She had the same blond hair as the girl.

Her mouth gapped for a moment.

“Expecting a kid?” Broman gave a slight, teasing smile…at least he hoped it was teasing. Human emotions didn’t always make sense to him.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” the woman asked.

“Broman,” he stuck out his hand to shake as he’d seen others do. The kids had loved it when he introduced himself in the meadow. This woman didn’t seem so thrilled as she eye his hand.

Then, with an exasperated shrug, she shook his hand. “Lacy.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Come wash up,” Maddy grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the back door directly across the house. She pulled him out into the yard to a bucket full of water.

Watching her for a moment, Broman copied her motions of splashing water across her face and then her arms.

“Brrrr,” he shivered.

“Yup, but it’s better than dirt in the food!” Maddy finished and dried her face on the bottom of her shirt.

Broman wondered how often Lacy told her daughter that. Maddy sounded exactly at he would if he were quoting Faden’s ‘children are far tastier than adults.’

He followed Maddy back in and hesitated over the chair she pointed to. He wasn’t sure he’d fit in it but then, turning it slightly to the side, he slid his legs under the table.

Lacy gave an amused smile. “Father a lumber man?”

Broman frowned and then decided honesty would work just fine. “Wouldn’t know, Ma’am. Never met him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She set a plate of potatoes and pork before him.

Ducking his head, Broman blinked. The apology shouldn’t bother him but it brought moisture to his eyes all the same.

“That’s all right,” Maddy spoke up, “I never met my daddy either.” She grasped his hand, gave it a squeeze and then let go to dig into her food.

Her hand looked so fragile but the sympathy made his stomach ache. Eating in silence, it was several moments before Broman stopped in wonder. The pork was good. Beyond good. He’d never eaten anything quite like it.

Glancing at Maddy, he ducked his head again, ashamed somehow that humans didn’t taste as good as pork. Something’s wrong with me. I’d rather eat pork than human. Maybe my sir was right, I’m not fit to be a troll.

Maddy held out a hand for his empty plate and he handed it over, then grabbed his cup to follow her to the wash tub.

“Want to kick the ball around in the yard before dark?” she asked as they scrubbed the wooden plates.

It was his chance to prove himself. The opportunity he’d been waiting for. Broman forced a smile. “Sure.”

To Be Finished on Thursday…

Blessings,

Jennifer

Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders Bc: Roasted Deer with Bread and Fruit

Welcome back for the end to the adventure story. Read on and find out how the story ends!

Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders Bc: Roasted Deer with Bread and Fruit

You just throw something out.

“I’ll make you roasted deer with fruit and toasted bread as a nice side,” you say as you pull your pack forward and scrounge inside for the dried fruit and sourdough bread.

“Don’t want a roast. I’m tired of roasted meat!”

“Oh,” you pause, swallowing as one troll leans so close you can see up his buggery nose. “Well then, how about a stew?”

“Hmmm.” They both sit down with a thud that rocks the ground beneath your feet. You pitch your hands out to catch yourself.

“Stew it is then. May I pick some flowers to help the flavor?”

“Whatcha think, Bern?”

“Yeah, sure. But you go farther than that rock,” Bern points to a boulder on the edge of the scree field, “and I won’t bother picking you up again. I’ll just squash you.”

“Fair enough,” you set your pack next to Bern’s large toes to reassure him you won’t run and then scramble over to some pink flowers you spotted earlier. You’ve helped gather herbs for the town healer, so the flower’s familiar to you. After picking a handfull, actually pulling them up by the roots because the roots are what you want, you glance back at the trolls.

By golly, they’re big! You pull up another handful before returning to the beasts.

“May I ask for a fire?” you ask.

“Why should we help you?”

“I could start one myself,” you assure, “but it wouldn’t be so large as a fire made by you and dinner would take a lot longer.”

“Harrrumph,” Bern stands and in quick order has a fire roaring. They’ve a pot as big as a wagon that, after directing him to, Bern places on a boulder slightly above the blaze and pours in bucketfuls of water from a small steam nearby.

Then Bern sits down with the declaration if you can’t do the rest by yourself, he’ll eat you whole and forget about the stew.

Standing on the rock with the pot, you break the roots into bits and throw them in to steep while you work on the deer. By the time you’re done quartering the second deer, you’re a mess, but the water’s starting to roll. You toss in the fruits next and then cut the deer meat into large chunks, throwing them in as you cut.

It’s not a stew you’d make for yourself but from what you know of trolls, the flavor doesn’t really matter. They’ll probably gulp down the stew without tasting it much, so you don’t concern yourself about the mixture of mismatched ingredients.

The trolls watch, licking their lips with each piece of meat added. As you wait for it to cook some more, you slice the bread into thick pieces and lay them next to the pot to toast.

Asking for a large stick hanging from Bern’s belt, you grasp the wood with both hands to stir the stew. Between the heat of the fire and exertion, you’re sweating buckets but if this bothers the trolls, they don’t tell you.

Finally satisfied with the mixture, you ask if they have bowls.

“Nah,” Bern declares, “bowls are stupid.”

He moves to pick up the pot but spots the toast. “What’s this?”

“Toast,” you explain, “it’s really good if you dip it in the stew.”

Bern picks up a piece in his thick fingers and dips it, scowling as it drips.

Then he takes a bite, catching his fingers in the process.

“Ow!” he howls and thrashes his hand like it’ll help the pain. He smacks the pot and the stew flies, hissing at it hits the fire.

You bolt, seeing the disaster about to hit. The ground shakes and the loose scree slides under your feet. You keep going, trying to reach the arch, but the running quake of both trolls makes the scree slide into a full on rock slide.

I’m sorry to say your story from here is quite sad. Take solace in that you did not get eaten by a troll. After the rock slide settled, they never did find your body.

The End

And you were so close! I’m sorry for your rather unfortunate ending. Maybe at a later date, I’ll run the story again and you can find a happier ending.

For now, I hope you enjoy the rest of your week and we’ll see you all next week for some back story to the troll Broman, since this was requested=)

Blessings,

Jennifer

Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders B: Head Past the Whale’s Side

Welcome back, dear readers, to the second part of the Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders! Reader’s choices have you heading past the Whale’s Tale in hopes of finding this fabled world. =)

Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders B: Head Past the Whale’s Side

Bogs just make you think of bugs that like to eat at human flesh and hiking a mountain doesn’t seem all that fun either. But you’ve been climbing at the Whale’s Side before. You’re somewhat familiar with the area and the dangers of the loose rock, so you decide to make for that route.

It’s not long before the ground becomes rocky with a solid crunch under your steps. The Whale’s Side rises to your left, starting out low enough you could pull your self on top of it in one move and building from there until it’s about 120 feet tall with swooping ripples in the stone.

Walking until you reach the Whale’s Fin, where the wall stops in a straight plummet like something cut it with a knife, you stop and pull out the map. There isn’t really a trail to follow but the map indicates you should move forward across the scree field in front of you. You tuck the map back into your pocket to leave your hands free.

The first step onto the scree scrapes rock against rock with a grating you feel through the soles of your boots. You continue on, stepping with caution. A bit later the ground rumbles alarmingly and you look around, trying to locate the cause. You don’t see anything but the rumbling continues like a large rock slide.

Then something appears behind you. It’s round and bobbing with slow bounces. You’re so focused on it that you fail to look forward again until something grabs your feet and picks you up, holding you upside down high up in the air.

Hollering in surprise, you twist until you’re eye to eye with something huge. The eye staring back is brown and crusty.

“Found me some dinner,” rumbles the beast.

“Wait now,” comes another deep voice. “I helped, you have to share.”

The one holding you turns and, with ground eating strides, walks the rest of the way across the scree field and onto unfamiliar ground. A round, braided structure passes your upside down vision. There! You twist and struggle as you pass the arch but the thing carrying you doesn’t seem to notice.

Finally you’re set down. As your head clears you look up to find two round, rocky faces eyeing you with great interest.

“First one in a while. Let’s roast it,” one says.

Oh no. You’ve heard of rock trolls and that’s what these two have to be. They’re put together like snowmen made of stone instead of snow and with stout legs. And they’ll eat anything. Or so the stories tell. But you see they have two deer already ready for their meal.

“Haven’t had a good meal in a while?” you ask.

They straighten in surprise.

“They don’t usually talk. Blubber, but no talk.” One says.

“Does it matter?” The other asks.

“No. Just annoying is all.” He reaches to pick you up again but you dart away waving your hands.

“Wait, wait. I’ve some food you may find quite delicious. It’ll go well with your venison.”

“Venis…Venison? What’s it saying?”

“Let me cook for you. If you enjoy it, I get to go free. If not, well, you can eat me.” You shrug, trying to appear cool with the whole idea while hiding your shaking hands.

“Cook for us?” They kneel down and hover over you like you’re a fascinating specimen.

“Absolutely, I’ll make you…” you pause to think about what you’ve got.

Do you say…

Bb: Roast deer with a side of fruit and nuts?

Bc: Roast deer with bread and fruit?

or

Bd: Say nothing and run?

Blessings,

Jennifer

(Please post a comment with your choice. One vote per post please but comment as much as you like=) This makes counting votes easier. Voting will end at 8pm Mountain Time Monday. I’ll post whichever option gets the most votes Tuesday and we’ll see how the adventure finishes!)

Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders

Welcome back to the adventure=)

Half the fun of Choose Your Own Adventure stories is the chance to reread the stories to figure out where the difference choices lead. I used to read the books with my fingers stuck in the pages just so I could go back to each choice and I’ve been told I’m not the only one who did this=) So here’s a second chance to find out where The Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders can take you.

I hope you enjoy=)

Quest for Pannadon’s World of Wonders

In the woods of Pannadon a collection of rocks sit like a giant troll whiling away his time in thought. Those who are cautious avoid the place, afraid the formation is, in fact, an old troll caught by the first rays of sun.

But for those who are adventurous, the formation is the starting point to a map into Pannadon’s hidden World of Wonders.

You are, of course, one of the adventurous souls around and you’ve never had the chance to check out Pannadon’s secrets although you hear there are fairies who turn the sky into rainbows and frogs who can tell you amazing stories. Just to name a few things you’ve heard.

You carry a bag with the tools you believe will help you find this World of Wonders. A knife, a coil of rope, water, a bag of nuts and dried fruit and a loaf of sour dough bread along with a layer of warmer clothes. You’ve never met anyone who’s found the World of Wonders, so you’ve no real gauge on how long the trip will take, but no matter, you can always make do sleeping in the woods. It’s not like you haven’t done that before.

Before you sits the rock troll. If he were real, you’d offer him a cup of tea because it looks like his head aches with his face all scrunched up and his hand on his forehead. The longer you look at him, the more real he seems. He might truly be a troll frozen to stone by the sun.

In your hand you hold a map. It might be real, it might be a hoax. You bought it from a local vendor who claimed he’d found the map hidden in a trunk in his grandfather’s cabin. Part of the adventure’s the mere idea that you might be running on a wild search using a fictitious map. But it brought you to the starting point just fine, so it’s proving to be at least a pinch accurate.

The lower left hand corner is marked with a bulbous drawing of the troll. The poor guy’s imitation makes him look rather fat. From the troll’s heel runs three lines.

One appears to run deep into Pannadon, down into the bogs that soak the roots of the trees into a mash of slime. That way looks like you’re searching for an archway made of tree branches and vines covered in flowers the size of your splayed hand.

The second curves and meanders through more rocks known to you as the Whale’s Side. It’s a common area for climbing but no climbers go beyond the tip of the Whale’s Fin because the rocks become unstable farther on. The line on the map leads past the Fin and over the rocks until it marks the next destination point as another archway, this one made of rock instead of vines and it appears the rock is braided like a woman’s hair.

The last line heads west up into the mountains until the forest can’t reach and the ground becomes barren and the air thin. The line dots its way around the mountain, marked on the map as Shovant Mountain, until you reach the destination point on the north side, which appears to be a cave with sharp points lining the opening like pointy teeth.

Stepping around the troll to start from his heel, you study the map and the direction of each option.

Do you…

A. Head into the bogs?

B. Head past the Whale’s Side?

or

C. Head toward Shovant mountain?

Blessings,

Jennifer

(Please post a comment with your choice. One vote per post please but comment as much as you like=) This makes counting votes easier. Voting will end at 8pm Mountain Time Wednesday. I’ll post whichever option gets the most votes Thursday and we’ll see how the adventure goes!)

Troll Territory Part Two

Welcome back to the second part of the story. If you missed Tuesday, just know that April was attacked by a troll walking home from seeing a story teller. She made it home only because another troll showed up and they started fighting.

Enjoy the story and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week.

Troll Territory Part Two

Chores the next morning kept April from continuing to hide in bed but she kept an eye on the road as she moved about the yard.

“Heading into town with me?” her father asked.

April took the opportunity to ride instead of walk but when they reached the trees, her father slowed down.

“Wind must’ve been horrible last night,” he observed. Fresh needles covered the road and some smaller aspens bent over.

Opening her mouth, April almost said something but then snapped her lips shut and hummed agreement. Her father would never believe her.

She remained quiet all the way into town, not trusting herself to hold her tongue. After heading into the general store for some coffee and flour, she went to the tavern to wait for her father. He needed wheat ground and would take longer.

Broman moved about behind the bar to the right. April slid onto a stool and rested her arms on the rough wood.

“Cheese and bread?” she asked, hearing her stomach rumble.

Broman eyed her but handed over a plate. He cut a square of cheese from the board against the wall and ripped off a large chink of bread for her. As he added the bread to her plate, she caught sight of his wrist beneath his sleeve.

“Master Broman, what happened!?” She grasped his hand before he pulled away.

“Got careless with a knife.” He extracted his hand from her fingers and pulled his sleeve over the nasty gash.

April frowned but the door behind her distracted her from asking more.

Bailey, a tow headed boy four years younger than her, rushed through the door, banging it against the wall in his haste.

“Gentle on the door,” Broman snapped.

Bailey froze. “Ye…yes, Sir,” he stuttered. Then, seeing her, he grinned. “Your father had to rush home for a horse caught in a fence. He said to walk home again. Paid me a whole dollar to tell you.” And he displayed the coin proudly, like it was one of a kind.

April’s smile fell.

“I best be leaving,” she pushed off her stool.

“Finish you lunch first, girl,” Broman said.

April glanced at the plate, then out the window. She had a few hours before dark but not longer. It was the short time of year.

“Of course, Sir.” She tried to smile but couldn’t quite bring the corners of her mouth up.

Bailey joined her at the bar.

“I could buy some chocolate or maybe a new pair of shoes. Did you dad know I needed a new pair…” he continued to ramble on without waiting for an answer. April let him. It was his way.

Broman moved about but April couldn’t really tell what he was doing besides watching them. He always kept an eye on the kids that passed time at the tavern.

Finishing her lunch, April paid for it and went to leave. Bailey’s hand darted out to grab her shoulder.

“Stay for the storyteller?” he begged. “I missed him last night and it’s his last night in town. Mum and Da won’t let me stay without you to walk home with me.”

April’s stomach clenched. Her ‘no’ caught in her throat at the look on Bailey’s face. He didn’t get to do much in town because his parents demanded he walk home with someone.

But since he was already in town, she knew he’d say she was with him whether she stayed or not. He’d walk the road alone if she didn’t stay.

Swallowing the lump building in her throat, she placed a smile on her face.

“All right,” she said.

***

“Snap!” Magellon’s hands flew into the air. “The branch broke, sending the beast tumbling into the river.”

Everyone sighed. April pulled at Bailey’s fingers on her arm but, even though the suspense was over, he wouldn’t let go. Now he was hanging on with excitement.

“Can you believe it!” he whispered. “That was awesome.”

April gave a soft hum of agreement. She hadn’t really heard the story, and the knot in her stomach grew tighter the longer the evening went on.

Magellon bowed as he gathered his scarves off the floor. They were of all types of colors and shapes and he’d used them in his story to show the river, or the sun, or even the trees.

The kids groaned as he pocketed the scarves and gathered his cloak.

“One more, please!” one girl begged.

“I’m sorry, little lady,” Magellon smiled at her. “I require sleep sometimes. But I promise I’ll come back.”

The kids cheered and then fell silent as the storyteller gave a sweep of his cloak and disappeared upstairs.

Bailey’s hand finally relaxed.

“That was so awesome,” he said again.

“Good night, Master Broman,” April called.

The tavern keeper waved from behind the bar as she and Bailey ducked out the door. With the rush of kids, April didn’t think about the walk home until she and Bailey were away from Main Street and onto the dark stretch to the ranch. Her bag, full of the flour and coffee she’d bought, slapped softly against her leg as they walked.

“Did you see when he was juggling six of the scarves?” Bailey shouted the question.

April jumped. “I was there too,” she mumbled. Only part of her heard as Bailey continued to chatter.

Something rustled in the trees to the right of the road. April spun.

“What’s up with you? The ranches are that way, not that way. There’s nothing…”

“Shhh,” April said as something snapped. Then, when another sound indicated the thing was coming closer, “run, Bailey.”

April turned and ran but then looked back when Bailey didn’t keep up with her. “Run!”

He hadn’t moved. Instead, he stood frozen, staring at a large, dark shape racing toward him.

“Bailey!”

He didn’t hear her. The creature overtook him and he disappeared.

“Bailey!” April fumbled in her bag and pulled out a handful of flour. “Hey, you! Yeah you, the troll!”

She couldn’t tell much other than the thing moved. Maybe it turned. At least she imagined it turned.

Pulling back, she threw the flour at the creature. It reared back but didn’t let go of Bailey.

April reached into her bag again, intending to throw the coffee beans. Something shoved her from behind. She hit the ground, rolling head over heals.

When April looked up, there were two trolls and Bailey sat crouched under their feet. They wrestled back and forth, knocking into trees. April untangled herself from her bag and crept forward.

“Bailey,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

April crept farther forward and reached out to grasp Bailey’s shoulder. Before she touched him, she glanced at the trolls and froze.

One of them was covered in white flour. Its large eyes bulged, too large for its other features. With a sudden move, it darted for Bailey and snatched him from under her hand.

“No!” April swallowed her shout as the other troll looked at her. Instead of going for her, though, it shouted what April thought must be frustration and took off after the other troll.

April ran after and stopped a short ways into the trees. Bailey lay on the ground. Grasping his shoulder, she rolled him over.

“Wow, April,” he muttered, “it saved me.”

“What happened?”

“The bug eyed one grabbed me and the other one pulled me free.”

They froze as a large shape came out of the trees.

At first April didn’t see it but then she looked at more than just the creature’s face. Rising to her feet, she stepped toward the troll and reached a tentative hand out to grasp his arm.

He didn’t pull away as she looked at the gash running from his wrist to his elbow.

“Get this the other night?” She asked.

The troll didn’t answer.

“Thank you for saving us…Broman.”

As she watched, the troll shrank into the familiar tavern keeper she’d known her whole life.

“Broman? Really?” Bailey shot to his feet and rushed over to hug the man.

“Let me walk you home,” Broman offered. “I’ll explain on the way. Just promise me you’ll avoid  storytellers will big eyes from now on.” He pulled out a yellow scarf from his pocket. “I knew he’d come after you when I checked his room and found it empty, except for this.”

“He’s gone now?” April asked.

“Oh yes,” Broman said. “He won’t enter my territory again.”

The End

Blessings,

Jennifer

Troll Territory

Welcome to Tuesday=) In hopes of brightening your week, Adventure Awaits You brings you a short story involving a young girl and trolls. Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy=)

Troll Territory

“You know,” the storyteller leaned in and the kid’s eyes widened, “trolls like to smash into houses in the dark of night and take children!”

They gasped, April included although she was a few years older than the rest.

“With their hammer fists and their…”

“Enough!” Broman, the tavern keeper, glared. “You’re here to amuse them, not scare nightmares out of them.”

The storyteller, Magellon by name, bowed his curly head. “Of course, Sir. My apologies.”

Broman huffed but went back to cleaning tables.

April’s eyes followed him as his heavy frame moved smoothly between the chairs. She’d always trusted Broman. As Magellon picked up a new, happier tale, the tavern keeper’s eyes watched him with a slight narrowing.

He doesn’t trust him.

April looked back to the storyteller, trying to figure out why but she couldn’t place a reason. Magellon boasted broad shoulders and a wide face with eyes a bit too large for the rest of his features but other than this oddity, he gave off a friendly air. Perhaps too friendly. Maybe Broman found the man too much.

Letting it go, April settled back to the tale Magellon was weaving about fairies stealing fruit from the trees.

He finished and began packing up for the night. A few kids begged him for more but Magellon smiled and shook his head.

“Need sleep and rest for my voice,” he said.

With him disappearing upstairs, the tavern floor cleared of kids. April swung her cloak about her shoulders and called a good night to Master Broman before ducking out after the rest.

The chill night air bit at her nose as she walked home. She passed the town lanterns on Main Street and headed out into the night for her parent’s ranch. Although she’d walked the dark stretch of road hundreds of times, the night seemed more sinister than usual. Perhaps it was because Bailey, her friend from the farm nearest her parent’s, wasn’t with her. Or perhaps it was because it was a new moon and only a few stars pricked the darkness of the sky above. She should have brought a lantern but forgot it in her hast and excitement to see the storyteller.

“Stupid April,” she scolded under her breath.

A twig popped and she jumped. Her heart hit her throat. She imagined giant troll feet snapping bits of trees. Shaking her head hard, she continued on.

“Stop imagining things.”

But a moment later another twig popped and then the sound of running feet. Heavy, running feet. Glancing back, April spotted a black shape racing toward her from the trees. It was too dark to see its full size but that didn’t matter, it was a lot bigger than her fourteen-year-old frame.

Whimpering, she took off down the road. The barn, the first building on the ranch, wasn’t in sight yet. April pushed harder but there was a low grunt and something shoved her from behind.

She skinned her hands as she hit the dirt. Before she could roll away or push back up to run again, a bag was thrown over her head.

There was a thud and April flew to the side along the ground. The hand disappeared. Heavy scuffling and grunts came from only a few feet away.

Tearing the bag from her head, April stared at two things wrestling. It was too dark to tell anything other than that they were big. Trolls!

April spun and ran. The scuffling continued behind her until she reached the house and bolted through the door. Once it was secure, she leaned against it and started at the familiar surroundings in the light of the lantern her mother left burning. The scared dining table. The rack for their boots and the hooks above it for their cloaks. The bucket for washing cloths and the washboard. It all had a simple, reassuring feel.

As her breath evened, she imagined she could still hear the faint fighting of the two trolls.

Heading for bed, she crawled in, cloths and all, and covered her head with the blankets, trying to block out the frightening sound. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was just the wind in the trees or the horses being restless in the barn. But she knew better…

To Be Finished on Thursday.

Blessings,

Jennifer

Spy’s Mission Option Bb2: Don’t Tell the Family

Welcome to the end of the adventure and thank you so much for participating. It makes the adventure all the more fun when there are several different responses each day. =)

Spy’s Mission Option Bb2: Don’t Tell the Family

Since you don’t know who exactly is planning to kill the King, the fewer people who know about the threat, the better.

“My Lady,” you say, “it would be better to play our cards close to the chest.”

She swallows  and then puts a bright smile on her face. “Of course.”

The laughing of her ladies as they join you prevents any further conversation, so you hold your tongue and fall in to escort the Queen through the city.

This creates a slight hesitation for you since you’ve never been in the city before but you soon realize that, if you hold Rush’s reigns lightly, she knows where to go. So you hold the reigns with a bit of slack and instead start keeping a closer eye on the crowd pressing close to the street.

They cheer for the Queen and she waves with that bright smile held firmly in place.

Soon you see the King and the Princess riding ahead of you. It’s slow, but as you continue down the road, the gap between you and them starts to disappear. You watch them for a minute and then move your eyes toward the crowd.

A heavy set man catches your eye. Unlike the others in the crowd, he’s not smiling and cheering well wishes for the Princess’ birthday. Instead, he’s intently watching the Princess as she rides closer toward him. The frown on his face looks like it’s permanently there considering the lines around his mouth and in his forehead.

“My Lady?” you nudge her knee with your own.

She glances at you but continues to wave.

“Do you know that man?” You look at him but don’t point, hoping she’ll get the direction of your gaze.

“That’s Master Jamison, the cook,” she says without moving her lips. It’s a rather fascinating skill.

“Is he always so dour?”

“Ye…” she falls silent as Master Jamison approaches the Princess with a hand reached out to her. The frown’s gone from his face like he’s delighted to see her but the effort to smile seems strange to him.

The Princess grasps his hands and blesses him before sitting straight again to wave to the crowd.

You keep your eyes on Master Jamison while he slips back into the masses. He’s a short man but wide in the shoulders and, since his frown’s back, the crowd separates for him. It’s enough for you to see him slip a bottle into his pocket. That wouldn’t be so strange except you see the red seal around the top of the bottle. It’s a common way to mark poison.

“My Lady,” you say but when you look at her you see she’s seen the same thing as you.

“She must have paid him,” she says softly. The merriment’s gone from her face . “Catch the cook, my friend. I’ll deal with my daughter.”

“Yes, My Lady.” You drop from your saddle and hand Rush’s reigns off to one of the Queen’s ladies before slipping into the crowd after the cook.

It’s not hard to guess he’s headed back toward the palace, so you head back to Oddfellows. Your guess pays off as you see the broad shoulders of Master Jamison heading to the left up the street.

Following him at a distance, you wait until he reaches the palace and the kitchen yard. It’s empty save for him seeing as how all the kitchen help is in the building preparing for dinner and any one else is still out on the streets waving at the royal family. You select a fist sized rock.

Just as Master Jamison’s about to turn around to see who’s behind him, you pitch the rock. It catches him on the temple and he slumps into a heap in the yard.

“That was easier than I expected,” you mutter.

***

Your part was rather easy. You secured Master Jamison and found the poison in his front right pocket. The guard showed up a bit later to claim him.

Catching the Princess was apparently a much more noisy ordeal. When the Queen confronted her back at the palace, she stridently exclaimed her innocence but when the Queen reached a hand out to her, she backed away and ran. The guard chased her until she reached the dinning room where she upturned several tables in her effort to escape. They caught her there.

They later found three other bottles of poison in the Princess’ room along with several small notes she’s exchanged with Master Jamison. She promised him when she was Queen that she’d grant him land and a title.

As for you, being a spy, you slip away before you can be called in front of a crowd and return to your Master for your next mission. He’ll never have you return to the capital because you’re face is too well known now but, considering everything, that’s just fine with you.

The End

Blessings and have a wonderful weekend,

Jennifer

Spy’s Mission Option Bb: Trust the Horse Trainer

Spy’s Mission Option Bb: Trust the Horse Trainer

Master Ham’s welcoming smile convinces you to trust him.

“It’s good to meet the famous Master Ham,” you say. You’re not being overly flattering but just stating facts. Master Ham is well known for his ability to train horses. Opening the left side of your cloak, you flash the Spy Network’s badge pinned to the inside pocket. It’s a circle with a spy glass engraved delicately into the metal.

Master Ham’s smile falters for just a moment and then it’s back, like you were adjusting your cloak and he saw nothing.

“Might I have a word with you about the day’s events?” you ask.

“Of course. Let’s talk in the shade.” He gestures at a large tree on your side of the fence, then hops the fence to join you. The horse he’d been training makes a soft sound and hangs its head over the top rail like he’s begging to come along too. Master Ham just waves a hand back at him as he leads the way to the tree.

“What can I do for you?” he asks as soon as he’s sure no one’s around to overhear.

You explain the situation and then lean again the tree’s large trunk while Master Ham digests the news. The smile’s gone from his face.

“This is not good,” he mutters. “The King isn’t coming to the stables for his horse or the Princess’ new mare. He requested we bring them to the courtyard so he could surprise the Princess and then ride out the gates with her. Their two horses are already gone.” He strokes his beard as he considers. “But the Queen should be here soon. She’ll join up with them by the time they reach Oddfellow Road. I can get you in as her escort.”

You consider for a moment but it appears you’re running out of time, so you finally nod. “That’ll have to do.”

“Right this way.” Master Ham takes you into the stable. He points at a beautiful brown mare that’s already saddled with a side saddle that boasts tiny bells around the bottom edge. “That’s the Queen’s.”

Moving to the next stall, he leads out a slightly smaller, more gangly mare. “You’ll have to take Rush here. She’s already saddled as the escort horse.”

“Master Ham!”

You both turn to find a woman striding toward you followed by six other ladies. You’ve seen the Queen at a distance but never this close before. She’s slender with slight crows feet starting to show at the corner of her eyes but that’s the only sign of age you can find. Her dark hair shines without a gray strand and her brown eyes sparkle in merriment as she approaches.

“Your Majesty,” you and Ham bow in unison.

“Maybell’s all ready for you, My Lady,” Ham brings the beautiful mare out and assists the Queen into the saddle.

You mount as well and bring Rush up beside the Queen’s mare. When the Queen moves forward, you move at her side like it’s the most natural thing.

Noticing you, the Queen looks questioningly at Master Ham. “Not my escort today, Master Ham?”

Master Ham gives an embarrassed bow. “My Lady, if you’ll pardon me today, my leg’s been paining me something fierce.”

She makes a tittering noise and tells him to take the day easy, saying one of the stable hands can care for the horses after the ride. Then she rides out of the stable and waits in the sun for her ladies to mount and join her.

“My Lady,” you say to get her attention. This moment before her ladies find their mounts might be your only second alone with her.

She raises a brow.

You quickly introduce yourself and why you’ve come.

Her face goes still and you start to question if you should have told her.

“You don’t know who this threat is?” she asks finally.

You shake your head.

“I want to tell my family,” she says but it’s not a statement. She’s unsure and from her expression, she’s waiting for your advice. Telling her was a risk in and of itself. Would the entire family be okay to tell?

Do you advise…

Bb1: Tell the family?

or

Bb2: Not to tell the family?

Blessings,

Jennifer

(Please post a comment with your choice. One vote per post please but comment as much as you like=) This makes counting votes easier. Voting will end at 8pm Mountain Time Wednesday. I’ll post whichever option gets the most votes Thursday and we’ll see how the adventure finishes!)