Artemin and the Trolls







The healer motioned Khevol to join her at the druid's campfire. The deep conversations were over, and the wine jugs had appeared. The druids, all women, and the Elvenari, all males, regarded this Dwarven in their midst.

"This is Khevol. He is a wonderful bone carver and friend of my fire," the healer said. She looked at Khevol and winked. "So give us a story."

Khevol was shocked. What kind of story would he tell to this auspicious group?

"You have ambushed him," one of the Elvenari said with a smile. He stood beside a small shrine they had placed near the fire circle; Khevol saw a deer skull in a circle of tallow candles.

Khevol pointed to the deer shrine, and said, "We of the Red Hills have a goddess named Artemin. One day, she was bathing in a clear mountain pool, and two trolls stumbled upon her. She was beautiful, and the trolls tried to violate her. Using her magic, she changed into a white doe and dashed between the trolls. They tried to stab her with their spears, but they killed each other instead."

The healer laughed and clapped. "Ha! Now that's a good lesson for those who think with their kicky-wicky!"

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