Chapter 18
Page 1 ¦ 2 ¦ 3 ¦ 4 ¦ 5 ¦ 6 ¦ 7 ¦ 8 ¦ 9 ¦ 10 ¦ 11 ¦ 12 ¦ 13 ¦ 14 ¦ 15 ¦ 16 ¦ 17 ¦ 18 ¦ 19
The trolls were even more frightening than the ogres. They were gigantic, fully ten feet tall and powerfully built. The troll was heavily muscled and had a slight resemblance to a hairless ape. The trolls were smarter than the ogre (which isn't saying much), especially the troll leaders, who were usually capable of reading and writing and were considered good strategists. Like the ogres, they were carnivores. Unlike the ogres who preferred raw meat, the trolls liked their humans and assorted animals roasted. The trolls' habitat was the mountainous regions of Khaballe and their tribes lived in caves. Though not on the level of the dwarves, they were good stone masons. They were deadly with slings and various type of catapults, some small enough to be held in their large hands.
As he continued to read about the strange creatures Uriel suddenly felt uncomfortable. His spine tingled and he knew Eyrmysse was eyeing him. He could feel Eyrmysse's eyes studying him, causing his pulse to race and his blood to rise. He fought against looking up at her for as long as he could, trying to concentrate on the book, boring his eyes into the pages. But the words were a blur and made no sense. The more he tried to not think of her the more he did. He finally succumbed to the powerful urge and raised his eyes to her, fearing what he would see. But the black robe only fixed him with a momentary glance before walking out the door.
Uriel slumped back in his chair. "Man, she is one strange woman," he remarked aloud to himself. He decided he had encountered enough for one day, whether it was in the form of the written word or the black robe. He pushed himself away from the table, gathered the books and returned them to their respective places. He lingered for a moment in the black robe section, a natural curiosity causing him to peruse some of the titles on the shelves. He saw a beautifully bound volume in black leather and picked it up. As if it burned his hand, Uriel immediately dropped the book. Shivers travelled the length of his spine and he was loath to replace it. And he did not. Uriel left the library with the exquisite embossed silver words of the cover etched in his mind: The Black Lodge.