For now, just one thing here - I may expand this as I find more ideas I'm comfortable with posting. I'm interested in (reasonably) regular writing partners - I understand life happens, it does to me as well. Posting frequency and volume can be discussed - I am a fan of 'as long as it needs to be,' rather than trying to nail people down to writing novels. I do react rather negatively to short-hand and chat-speak where it is not warranted by the story. Please contact me by PM if interested.
To many people, trolls are, if not myths, then somewhat remote. They dwell under bridges and demand tolls; others run protection rackets for river trade, serve as captains or guides on riverboats, protect the integrity of their river systems, but generally keep to themselves. They are crafty, wily negotiators, fearsome warriors, and it is said that to cross a troll is to invite retribution. Always. However long it takes, whatever the troll needs to do.
Bharrakhi, then, was no exceptional troll - grey-blue skin matching the native rocks of his home river, seven foot tall, his frame lanky by human standards, his muscles wiry and hard as iron. The small scales making up his outer skin, when properly polished and cleaned, gleamed in the sunlight, and when moving right, he could create almost-hypnotic light effects. He had been a slave for many years, had, in fact, sold himself into service just for the chance to take his revenge on the person who ordered his river dammed, his tribe starved of water, forced them to migrate and finally disperse. Now, finally, he had acquired enough of a reputation as master-at-arms, as leader of a house-guard, for the man he sought to tender an offer to his current master. He had indicated he would like to be sold. And then, once inside, he would take his revenge. He would take this man's daughters, introduce them to sex, teach them to love it, make them his sluts and ruin them for decent husbands. He'd get his children on them, and make them want to carry them. He'd arrange training accidents for the sons, ensure there would be noone to continue the line, if they could not be taken as allies. And then, once he was certain that either all the successors were dead or disgraced, or that the successors were on his side, he'd murder his new owner - a tribe for a tribe.