Chapter 5: Bargain

Qinala had called the cease fire order with grit teeth. Soon as they felt the vibrations of giant steps, she had rushed to the front wall and was glad she did.

The captain of the guard stood a good 6’8”, tall even among the traditionally taller gender of the wood elves. Autumn-brown hair stopped just below the pointed ears that poked through it. Plant-spun fabrics rested against her willowy body and were held snug to her youthful-looking copper skin by ties of vines and twigs. Shaped cuts of hard bark protected her shoulders, shins, and the exterior of her arms.

Wood elves valued their dexterity and nimbleness in combat, so the joints were uncovered by the light bark alongside her neck and other traditionally vulnerable parts of her body. A daring sort of light armor, but standard among the guards by her side. Like all elves, her feet were bare so as to better balance herself and increase her connection to nature.

The only thing setting Qinala’s outfit apart from her fellow soldiers were some more stylishly laid leaves on her shoulder bark-pads. She wore those marginally inefficient frills only at the council’s insistence.

The elves steadied themselves on their bare feet. One of her guards ran up to her.

“Qinala!”, said the shorter she-elf. “Is that the troll the scouts talked about?”

Qinala nodded. “Seems so. Everyone prepare yourselves. We’ll hear what she has to say.”

The soldier stepped back, gulping as Qinala was visibly upset at having to parlay with an enemy. Her normal ruthlessness towards foes had to be tempered. Yet, all the elves knew why. Though not all were hundreds of years old like Qinala, they lived long enough, and were trained enough, to know about trolls.

A typical troll stood a good 9 to 11 feet tall. They were naturally strong, able to punch right through weaker shields and yank away the sturdiest. Worse still, they could heal from almost any wound. Their teeth could tear through bone, and their stomach acid could digest the finest steel.

Those were the male trolls.

Females trolls stood over 50 times the size of males with stomach acid 10 times as strong but just as slow. Male trolls were a minor problem for wood elves. Strong, but sluggish by elf standards. They were a bit more troublesome if especially if allied with an orc or goblin tribe.

Female trolls, however, were a disaster. A single one could ravage an area for countless years, effectively ageless and immortal. Few things could penetrate their skin, and even fewer couldn’t be healed back within seconds.

The only good thing about female trolls was their rarity. They were hundreds of times less common as the males, but even that didn’t help much when they were thousands of times more deadly and problematic.

Qinala’s settlement knew that well, and they have heard of Bula. Although, none expected her to visit them this day.

The giant green-skinned troll-woman continued her approach. The ground shook louder and louder. The wall itself vibrated, but it held, as did most of the elves atop it. Those that didn’t got a stern look from the guard captain.

Soon, Bula’s booming foliage crunching steps paused, and the troll was upon them. These elves lived on trees taller than that giant herself, but the wall itself came up only to below the troll’s chest.

Qinala stared up with the others, hands held tight to a leaf-ornamented glaive weapon. Bula crouched down enough to get her face level with the top of the wall. Each elf looked at the darker, muted green spots on her cheeks. Some of the smaller body-markings rivaled their hands in size.

With her darker-green lips looming in front of them, Bula smiled. She spoke soon after.

“Two handfuls of food a day.”, the troll began. Her words were loud but the voice was certainly light enough for a female, albeit a bit on the tougher side of timbre.

“My hands, not yours of course.”, she continued. “Also 10 people a week. They don’t have to be yours, and you can spread them out over the week, but you do need to provide ‘em. If you do that, and don’t expand more than I say so, then I’ll let ya’ live.”

Qinala blinked. Her fingers tightened on the handle of her glaive. The pointed nails of her toes curled into the wood at her feet.

“How dare you!”, she shouted. “We have lived in this forest thousands of years and this spot hundreds. We’ve more honor than to become your slaves, and no decision like this could be reached without the council-”

Qinala’s speech was interrupted by a loud, humid roar of air from Bula’s open maw. Strands of saliva dangled from the roof to the tongue. They warbled and broke as that torrid gust flew forth to ruffle the guard. Another elf fell over from it and Qinala, the closest, held tight only by digging the butt of her glaive into the floor beneath.

A droplet of saliva hit Qinala’s forehead, far too warm to cool the captain’s rage.

“Yaaaawn”

--==--==--==--

After giving my usual spiel, one of the leaders of the little people got all riled up with a rant. Nothing I haven’t seen before and I couldn’t help but yawn out of boredom. It was a real yawn of course, but not directing it away from the little things was a conscious choice.

I might’ve also dragged out the end of it a bit.

With their hairs ruffled at the yawn’s end I smacked my lips.

“Are you done? Do you have an answer or not?”

The elf I assumed was the group’s leader spoke up. She was a tall, wiry sort that the others seemed to look to right now.

“I cannot give an answer. We have a system here. Big decisions are done via a council appointed by-”

“So you need to talk to the actual rulers then?”, I interrupted.

“They aren’t rulers so much as a guiding-”

“So to someone. Whatever.”

I waved her away, my patience thinning.

“Come back with a decision in 15 minutes, else I’ll assume it’s a no and I’ll help myself to your city, as I will if you act dumb and attack. In the meantime...”

I quickly pinched up one of the elven guards with my left hand. They were a thin willowy man with long blonde locks. Kind of handsome. I licked my lips as he fidgeted against my thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll keep this one as collateral.”

I squinted back at Qinala. I could see, even at her diminutive scale, that her face strained to avoid leaking the fullness of her rage.

“If you hurt any of my fellows then I, Qinala, leader of the guard shall personally-”

I waved her away again.

“Time’s ticking.”, I said.

Qinala moved off and took a pair of guards with her. I stayed with the rest of the elves that were on the wall and the one in my fingers. I looked to the held one while addressing them all.

“So, pixie dust huh? Allied with the fae?”

The elves said nothing, including the terrified one in my grip. I gently squeezed him to feel the tones of his tiny muscles. The one in my fingers let out a grunt. Wood elves, like all elves, were tall among the little races, but still less than a thumb tall to me. So, when the ones on the wall gripped their spears and glaives tighter, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Silent treatment huh? Fair enough, I’ll find it out anyways, or else...”

I wiggled the elf in my grip again. Bark-protected guards steadied on their teeny feet and took up subtly aggressive poses. Those slender folk were so brave, but foolish. They thought the pinched he-elf was my hostage, but they *all* were.

I noticed one of the elven guards looking at me with an especially grumpy face. I set my eyes to her.

“What?”, I asked, dangling the finger-held elf to the side for a moment.

She didn’t answer, but even I could see her brow furrowed more.

“Oh.”, I said. “Did I eat one of your friends?”

She didn’t answer, but the sinew of her taut legs tensed up.

“I only ate two of your kind of late, one male one female, which was it?”

No answer still.

“Well, if it’s any consolation. Both were delicious, from what I tasted. And, I did taste them quite thoroughly.”

I slipped my tongue from my lips to poke at the elf in my fingers and dab it at his tiny head.

“Mmm~”

She took a step back, still tensed. I could tell she wanted to slice my tongue right off, but even if she could it’d just grow back. I had nothing to fear.

Then, after 5 minutes had passed. A loud wooshing noise went through the air. I saw a blur of brown flying towards me, but didn’t care to dodge. Once the projectile punctured just below my chest, I saw what it was: a gigantic wooden arrow.

My feet slipped back a tad in the ground to steady myself from the impact. The fingers of my free right-hand gripped the top of the wall. A loud horn sounded from somewhere deep in the city, but that sound of attack wasn’t needed for the guards in front of me to start stabbing at my fingers.

Most could hardly leave a scratch, but the few that cut my skin paused in shock as my flesh knitted back together. Even then, I could feel my body trying to heal through the giant arrowhead.

I lifted my right hand and swiped left to right to knock the guards over. I wasn’t gentle, but nor was I too forceful either. Still, some of them weren’t getting back up--just writhing there.

I laughed, then wrapped that free hand about the arrow shaft and pulled it out. I studied the thing as the small hole just below my chest quickly sealed back up. I had never heard of elves with ballistas, but I supposed with an all wood arrow it could fit their style.

I chucked the projectile overhead, and chuckled again.

“Seems I have my answer.”

Many of the guard’s were still gathering themselves off the wall.

“My broken bones heal in a flash.”

In my left hand I held that kicking, irate elf ‘hostage’. With a flex of my fingers I bent his knees the wrong way. I let him scream for a second or two before speaking again.

“Seems wood-elf bones don’t.”

I popped the elf into my mouth and swallowed.

“Quite the treat your kind are. Less meaty than some other smaller folk for sure, but good thing you’re so plentiful here. That’s quite the upside to you refusing my offer: guess I’ll be eating well today~”

I slammed either of my hands down atop the wall, then brought them together to in a clap and gathered most of those guards up. My hands missed a few, but I got enough to feel some decent squirming once I stuffed them in my gob.

Another delightfully squirming gulp followed, then I grinned down at the few stragglers and walked right through the city wall.