The Feldip Hills

The Feldip hills...a vast and unforgiving wilderness riddled with treacherous swamps, vicious wolves and the occasional brutish ogre. But the feldip hills are also home to more mundane creatures. Deep in a valley far south of the high walls of yanille and gu-tanoth there was a nomadic settlement. All tents made from ragged and stained fabrics. These tents were in a circle with a larger tent at the centre and the embers of a fire smoked in front of its doorway as a dim sun rose and an oily orange filled the valley, light filtered through thick black clouds. A great scream broke the silence in the camp from a tent close to the fire. A great and bloated ogre woman lay heaving on a bed of wolf skins a bearded man besides her trying to utter words of comfort and reassurance. The shrill cries woke the rest of the tribe and many people filled the musty tent. For hours and hours she lay in labor and the man beside he began to despair. Many more hours past and at midday began to cough blood onto the dusty floor beside her before finally letting go of life. The baby was born healthy and strong but motherless in a sad twist of fate. His father sat by the campfire one night cradling him in an oxen hide blanket beside the chief. "You see Yarnok; this is what happens when ogres and humans mix it only leads to sadness and lost lives." "Ogres and humans simply don't mix you must understand this." "Nay Giron she was not like the others she had compassion and honor." In the next valley a group of ogres were gathered around a crudely constructed camp fire, one addressed the others. "Im ungry Grot I wants some meats" "Shut up ur fat mouth you, we can all av umies wen we find wer dey av been iding." "Bu I is starvin an I cannot

wait tha lung, he grunted" "I sed one more peep outa u and its wulf fuud" The Ogres eyes darted and he took a swing at Grot with his oversized fist, knocking Grot down into the fire. The camp filled with the rank smell of burning ogre flesh and fat. They came in the night across the hill lead by Skrop. "U ther" he grunted U get the stabers and u get the suutas, we huntin humies tonight nut chompys." A slightly smaller ogre came back seconds later carrying 3 oversized bows and a handful of long arrows with bone tips. "Them stupid humies wunt no wat hit em" Skrop growled as he wrapped some rags around the arrows. "bring the big hurt stik" Another ogre returned bearing a flaming log from the fire, handed it to Skrop and took a bow and some arrows. Several more ogres followed suit and pulled back the bow strings with their rag ended arrows. "Wait!" Skrop stood blankly for a moment.

"o ya the hurty stik." Skrop walked along the line lighting the arrows and then did so with his arrow too. "Fire ur stabers!" Fire rained on the camp and all that could have been on fire was ablaze. The ogres stormed the camp miming and killing in the confusion. A token force of men managed to band together in defense and hold them back for a short time. Among them was the farther of Yungling. Their fight alas was in vain and they were killed one by one. The young child looked on tears in his eyes as his father was devoured by a hideous ogre. For days he lay hidden long after the ogres had left, their deed done. Traumatized and wasting away all alone. A deep anger burning in his heart. His eyes flooded with tears and he broke his hiding place only to be confronted by the stone cold stare of a wolf not 10 feet away. The wolf did not see Yungling as a threat and approached him diligently. Yunglings anger died away and collapsed to his knees weeping into the wolfs soft mane. The wolf bore many scares that told of them many hardships it had suffered through the many long years it had walked the wilds. The wolf and Yungling walked the wilds for many years together hunting small animals and living on what little the land had to offer. They became companions unto death. One day the mottled squawk of a chompy bird roused Yungling from his sleep. He decided he had slumbered long enough and took a look around the foothills of the mountains they had been walking for a month now. Looking across the hazy landscape he caught a glimpse of a lone troll asleep by a rock in the swampy valley floor. Standing for a moment in thought Yungling decided it was time to defend his camp as he could not risk a troll so close. Taking a granite fashioned knife form his belt he slowly crept up to the troll silent as a winter wolf. The troll groaned in its sleep as Yungling drew him knife to its scrawny throat. Its eyes shot open as he cut hard and deep through muscle and bone. The troll’s thick blood drained into the swamp pool as Yungling skinned its carcass and removed its skull. The skull and jaw bone from this troll child, Yunling found fitted his head perfectly and with a reed he secured it there.