Troll Mountain: The Complete Novel

A dauntless younger hero.

An military of brutal monsters.

An most unlikely quest.

Journey to the mountain ...

In an remoted valley, a small tribe of people is loss of life from a negative illness.

There are rumors, despite the fact that, that the trolls of Troll Mountain, the valley's fearsome overlords, have came across a treatment for the affliction: a wonderful elixir.

When his sister is struck down via the illness and his tribal leaders refuse to assist him, an intrepid early life named Raf comes to a decision to defy his tribe and do the unthinkable: he'll trip by myself to Troll Mountain and scouse borrow the elixir from the feared trolls.

But to get to Troll Mountain, Raf must go through risky swamps and haunting forests jam-packed with wolves, hobgoblins and, worst of all, the ever present hazard of rogue trolls ...

The trip to the mountain has begun.


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Then they persevered their trip strolling, returning to their very own lands through a direction that went round the area of the Northmen. whereas they revered Raf, they felt that the opposite Northmen will possibly not take kindly to Southmen crusing all over the center in their lands. And so Raf traveled the remainder of the way in which by myself. After a time, he arrived again within the territory of the Northmen and stepped ashore. He collected a few lemons from a close-by grove and headed for the village. rising from the woods, he stopped brief. evening had fallen and he observed the glow of many fires up forward, coming from the heart of the village. He heard the sounds of fast paced drums and pleased making a song. placing that out of his brain for the instant, he moved quickly to his hovel and there he came across Kira, on my own in her straw mattress, sweating and in a tormented sleep. He woke her lightly and, squeezing his newfound lemons, fed her their juice. She turned a bit calmer, had a good time in short at his secure go back, after which resumed her sleep. Raf didn’t count on the juice—the Elixir—to paintings instantly, yet he sensed even then that her therapeutic had started. purely then did he flip his brain to the sounds of drums and making a song. Leaving his weapons—his knife and his crossbow—in the hovel, he headed off towards the principal sq.. * soiled, bloody, bruised, and bedraggled, Raf stepped out into the firelight and beheld a scene of significant occasion and happiness. The tribe used to be dancing and making a song round a blazing hearth. Seated on a wood throne on the head of the celebrations—not not like the Troll King in his hall—was the executive of the tribe, and beside him, Bader, having a look awfully proud, together with his 3 bottles of the prized Elixir dangling from a strap round his neck. The king’s daughter, Lilibala, sat with them, sometimes achieving over to take a privileged sip of Elixir from one of many bottles placing from her brother’s neck. The wide-eyed boy named Timbuk served Bader with awestruck deference. each few moments, one of many ladies of the tribe may rush as much as Bader and scouse borrow a kiss on his cheek. He could smile indulgently: he was once the hero who had lower back with the valuable drugs and he can have his decide of them. And that was once all Raf may perhaps undergo. “Quiet! ” he known as over the din. “Quiet! All of you! ” The drums fell silent. The dancing stopped. All eyes grew to become to him. The fats leader stated, “Why, if it isn’t—” “Be silent, you,” Raf commanded and the townsfolk gasped. The chief’s eyes went large with anger. nobody within the tribe had ever spoken to him so impudently. Bader used to be much less stunned. He eyed Raf coolly. “Raf. i'm so happy you might have lower back out of your trip. i don't understand the place you went, yet a lot has occurred on your absence. I faced the trolls, destroyed their country, and again with their Elixir. Our tribe is stored and i'm their hero. The Northmen are freed from the tyranny of the trolls and the ailment that has so extraordinarily stricken us. Oh, and because the inheritor to our illustrious chief’s throne, i'll lower out your tongue in case you communicate to my father in any such tone back.

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