[For more about the odd bit of clothing Grope is using here and its backstory, follow the link in the chapter title to the HKV. It's something that showed up in Errant Road, so I feel okay using it here even though there is no evidence of its existence in the canonical Poe-Verse. Anyway, one or maybe two chapters to go after this.]
Chapter Eight: The Robe
Despite (or maybe because of, who knows) all the time Grope had spent around humans, he was still highly observant of the main troll religion. Accordingly, as the BOOMMM from the fireball echoed from the hills and pieces of the night wyrm flew through the air, he reached into his traveling bag, which had been through much in the previous few weeks, and extracted an item of clothing that had clearly been through more -- many years' more.
This was his "Many-Fathers-God-Wisdom Robe," or simply "Robe" for short. It was worn by the mate of the Chieftess of a troll clan, as his mate Zhbrigeeul had been before they had moved into "Small One" (i.e., human) territory; and he continued to wear it after Zhbrigeeul's unfortunate death at Kiyoka. Grope knew that he should pass the Robe on to the mate of the new Chieftess, whoever that was, but there would be time for that. (Probably.)
He deftly snatched a falling piece of night wyrm out of the air just before it could land on Chippy, now settled in for a nap on his shoulder. The meat had been flying through the sky for long enough to have cooled down from the improbable fireball, but also long enough to have gained quite a bit of momentum. The recoil from grabbing it actually knocked Grope backward a small step, but no matter; it would still serve his purpose. Muttering a quick prayer to the Five Great Mothers, he wiped the gob of flesh on the Robe.
This woke Chippy for a brief moment, long enough to grunt "Pee-YOOO!! That thing stinks!" Well, of course the thing stank. It had on it small bits of animals -- and humans -- that had been treated in exactly the same way as the late night wyrm's flesh, and with the same purpose: to leave a record on the robe of the "wisdom" of the animal supplying the flesh. Thus equipped, the robe wearer would have a better sense of what was going on in the area where the animal died. At least that was true in theory; some of the younger trolls questioned the practicality of this "wisdom." Grope had no such doubts, and he thought he could feel, in some ineffable way, a greater harmony with the hills that lay before him.
"Not to worry," he reassured Chippy, unsure whether the munk had gone back to sleep, passed out from the stench, or whatever. "When I find a mate, she'll be able to cast a Hygiene spell that leaves the Wisdom intact but gets rid of the smell. I just haven't been able to do that myself..."
His voice tailed off, leaving it uncertain as to why he couldn't; after all, he had cast (and Chippy had seen him cast) magic that normally was completely inaccessible to a male troll. But Grope knew his limits, both magical and social. He might not have the skill to deodorize the Robe without removing much of its trapped Wisdom; and he was not going to take chances with the group that was now moving to rally around their rescuer. He was about to explain all that to Chippy, when help came from a most unexpected direction.
"May -- may I have the honor of cleansing your Robe?" asked a soft female voice.
Grope looked up to meet eyes with the female member of the party he'd just saved.
Grope Finds a Mate
- Graybeard
- The Heretical Admin
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Re: Grope Finds a Mate
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Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
- Graybeard
- The Heretical Admin
- Posts: 7183
- Joined: August 20th, 2007, 8:26 am
- Location: Nuevo Mexico y Colorado, Estados Unidos
Re: Grope Finds a Mate
[All inevitable to the point of being scripted, but it's long past time to wrap this up, the more so since my own wife of many, many happy years passed away a few weeks ago.
At least I get to give another one of my ER characters a happy ending...]
Chapter Nine: Happily ever after
Standards of troll beauty are probably best left to the imagination, but whatever they are, Grope was flabbergasted at the realization that the speaker of that line met them. Very well. Furthermore, this beauteous young (she couldn't be more than a hundred or so) female had just used one of the classic troll courtship lines.
It is also probably best to imagine, rather than describe, what it looks like when a troll blushes. Suffice it to say that that was exactly what Grope looked like for more than a few seconds. His heart was shouting "YesyesyesyesYES!" too loud for him to actually speak, yet not too loud to hear what one of the other trolls was saying.
"But Chieftess Harlro, is that a wise thing to do?"
She's a Chieftess? Grope thought, but again, other words got out before he could form his own, this time from the attractive young Harlro herself; and they were at least as startling to Grope as her earlier words had been. "I think it is beyond wise, it is necessary. My -- great-aunt [the troll word was more nuanced, but that will have to do] held that Robe years ago, before she and her mate went to the land of the Small Ones."
Grope was getting seriously wobbly around the knees, but he did get out the next line before someone could pre-empt. "Your [same untranslatable troll word equivalent to 'great-aunt'] was Zhbrigeeul?"
Harlro did not respond immediately in words, but nodded (the expression meant the same to a troll as to a human) and smiled sadly. She did not need to say "you are that mate, and she is gone to the Five Great Mothers, isn't she?"; her facial expression managed to convey all of that.
Grope clutched at a convenient tree trunk for support. "But -- but -- Chieftess," he began, "I would not presume. Do you not have your own mate, and he his own Robe?"
But he knew the answer even before Harlro's smile turned to tears, and she pointed mutely at the remains of the night wyrm.
Where Grope's own Robe was telling him that the tattered remnant of that Robe, and of the consort who wore it, would be found.
"I am -- terribly sorry," both Grope and Harlro said at the same time, but while she was struggling to hold back the tears, he managed one more phrase. "Yes, I would be honored if you cleanse this Robe,,,"
And that was just the beginning of a long, happy troll marriage.
-FIN-
![Sad :(](./images/smilies/icon_e_sad.gif)
![Sad :(](./images/smilies/icon_e_sad.gif)
![Sad :(](./images/smilies/icon_e_sad.gif)
Chapter Nine: Happily ever after
Standards of troll beauty are probably best left to the imagination, but whatever they are, Grope was flabbergasted at the realization that the speaker of that line met them. Very well. Furthermore, this beauteous young (she couldn't be more than a hundred or so) female had just used one of the classic troll courtship lines.
It is also probably best to imagine, rather than describe, what it looks like when a troll blushes. Suffice it to say that that was exactly what Grope looked like for more than a few seconds. His heart was shouting "YesyesyesyesYES!" too loud for him to actually speak, yet not too loud to hear what one of the other trolls was saying.
"But Chieftess Harlro, is that a wise thing to do?"
She's a Chieftess? Grope thought, but again, other words got out before he could form his own, this time from the attractive young Harlro herself; and they were at least as startling to Grope as her earlier words had been. "I think it is beyond wise, it is necessary. My -- great-aunt [the troll word was more nuanced, but that will have to do] held that Robe years ago, before she and her mate went to the land of the Small Ones."
Grope was getting seriously wobbly around the knees, but he did get out the next line before someone could pre-empt. "Your [same untranslatable troll word equivalent to 'great-aunt'] was Zhbrigeeul?"
Harlro did not respond immediately in words, but nodded (the expression meant the same to a troll as to a human) and smiled sadly. She did not need to say "you are that mate, and she is gone to the Five Great Mothers, isn't she?"; her facial expression managed to convey all of that.
Grope clutched at a convenient tree trunk for support. "But -- but -- Chieftess," he began, "I would not presume. Do you not have your own mate, and he his own Robe?"
But he knew the answer even before Harlro's smile turned to tears, and she pointed mutely at the remains of the night wyrm.
Where Grope's own Robe was telling him that the tattered remnant of that Robe, and of the consort who wore it, would be found.
"I am -- terribly sorry," both Grope and Harlro said at the same time, but while she was struggling to hold back the tears, he managed one more phrase. "Yes, I would be honored if you cleanse this Robe,,,"
And that was just the beginning of a long, happy troll marriage.
-FIN-
![Image](https://www.errantstory.com/promotion/SarineCircle.png)
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.