Tidying Up   1502.07.19*  
Written By: Razzle C.
(Trolls Story) (2013 Treasure Hunt) When a pair of nosy intruders set off a troll trap and leave rocks everywhere, someone has to tidy up.
Posted: 07/15/13      [6 Comments]
 

Collections that include this story:
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Forging Gifts
2013 Treasure Hunt
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Doing it in Your Sleep

(This story was an entry for Clue #6 in the 2013 Treasure Hunt -- see the collection for related stories and images! It's also a story featuring the trolls. For other "Stories about Trolls", see the listing.)



Illustration by Razzle
Gravel lifted another of the rough boulders to clear away. The stones had been dislodged in a haphazard cave-in by the trap that the mysterious intruders had set off. If there even had been any intruders. The bodies -- supposedly, at least -- had been whisked away immediately, leaving only rumors and whispers in their wake.

No doubt Gravel was so far beneath the standing of those trolls who would be examining the bodies now, that they didn't even know his name, or care. It seemed to him his name was fitting in that regard; he was as insignificant and unnoticable as a piece of gravel beneath their feet. Perhaps, if he hadn't been tired, sweaty, and disgruntled from the labor, he would have chosen to remember that there were many trolls that did know him, and cared quite a good deal -- but that hardly suited his current wallowing in bored self-pity. Someday though, he thought wryly as he tossed the stone into a small cart to be drawn away, perhaps he would have the satisfaction of sticking a sharp edge in some distant higher-up's toe.

The other trolls who worked with Gravel were also young, beardless lads of the Tinkers House. Such youth were considered best suited to a task like this, as they were younger, stronger, and generally more disposable in the case of an accidental cave wall or ceiling collapse.

The thought of such a disaster had crossed Gravel's mind once or twice, but for the most part this chore was one of mindless drudgery. In fact, his mind had been so numbed that the thought of an unlikely second cave-in was of little concern to him.

To keep his mind from complete atrophy, Gravel was doing an examination of his own, as the higher-ups enjoyed their find (if they had one). Each stone he lifted, he imagined what sort of tool or gadget he might make out of it if he had the free time and workspace to do it. The next rock he lifted was a good size, small enough to be easily workable, but large enough to do something with. He thought perhaps with this one, he would be able to simply smooth off the bottom where it was already a mostly flat shape. Then he would bore some holes in the top and give it to his younger brother, who had only recently turned five years old.

Their father had given the boy his first tool set to keep as his own, scaled down to size for small fingers. This stone, with the holes in the top, would make a good stand for him to keep them in by sticking the handles into the stone like a crop of mushrooms growing on it. Also, Gravel reflected, just carrying the stone around would help to develop his little brother's arm strength.
Collections that include this story:
<<
Forging Gifts
2013 Treasure Hunt
>>
Doing it in Your Sleep

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