Captain Nimtrott

Captain Nimtrott was a lancer ~ a smart, elegant, brave and rather haughty junior officer in the Army of the Baron of Greater Narb. He sported a very fine bushy moustache and sideburns (having dark brown hair) ~ he considered himself rather dashing and handsome. His father, who was a humble cobbler, considered him silly and rather shallow...

His duties broadly included leading patrols along the disputed western border, standing guard outside the Baron's palace gates or marching in pomp-filled parades. It was on patrol that he and his troop had to deal with incursions by the Fugle men, a tribe of short, stumpy people of a distinctly trollish persuasion, despite their small size ~ who regularly raided across the marches, out of the Forest of Annu where they lived and lurked.

The Narbian army was a small force, not exceeding a few hundred men, all of whom were always dressed in the most dashing and colourful of uniforms. A lot of royal blue, red epaulettes, cuffs and brightly polished silver buttons was in evidence, along with a large portion of posing and posturing. Narb, although a poor northern province of the empire, was peaceful most of the time, being protected all around by other, stronger, states, including the Kingdom of Barradon, the County of Lesser Narb and the very much larger Kingdom of North Redune.

One day Captain Nimtrott led his troop of a dozen smartly dressed young lancers on a patrol along the eaves of the Forest of Annu. Things had been quiet for months; there had been no raids out of the dark and mysterious forest since before the great parade and festival to mark the Baron's birthday in April. How the Captain had loved trotting along in front of his men, crowds of townspeople (including a gratifying number of attractive young ladies) staring admiringly as his lancers followed immediately behind the military band of drummers and crumhorn players.

Nimtrott's reverie was interrupted ~ by a gruff shout from the forest which was followed immediately by a hail of small stones and rocks that fell upon the Captain and his men. Although few of the missiles were large enough to do any real harm, they were ample to spook the horses and some of the more inexperienced lancers who, frankly, had only joined the Baron's 'militia' in order to look splendid for their young sweethearts.

There was a short spell of shouting and cursing whilst the lancers endeavoured to get their animals under control. In this they only achieved mixed success; four of the horses bolted with their riders and most of the others were rearing up and neighing with fear and excitement.

Another hail of stones were flung out of the forest, this time three or four young lancers fell from their mounts and then it all went dark for the captain. A largish stone had hit him squarely between the eyes and with so much force that it had knocked him out. He slid off of his steed, completely unconscious. That was enough for his troop; those that had remained, now fled. Their bravura disappearing like a whispered indiscretion.

The captain awoke to find himself firmly bound with nets and vine ropes. He was secured to a thick tree root and before him a large crowd of little trollish men were gathered. Maybe there were forty of them; all about three feet tall, stocky and rough in appearance and wearing no more than a few scraps of animal skins. They carried knobbly wooden clubs and knapsacks full of throwing stones hung by their sides. His head hurt horribly and he could feel the blood from his wound drying on his nose and cheek. The Troglodytes just stood silently; surrounding him with their mute animosity. Slowly he recovered consciousness completely and looked around with a look of curious pride in a feeble attempt to impress his diminutive captors.

He was in an earthy cave, illuminated only by a small cooking fire and some torches held aloft by several of the little troll men. He recognised them as the Fuglemen ~ the raiders from the forest. Now it became plain why his countrymen could never find the Fuglemen's village or town; it was underground. The settlement must have been completely out of sight to the human soldiers scouring the forest for the annoying little blighters who regularly stole sheep and goats as well as crops from the fields and isolated barns.

The fattest of the Fuglemen (and they were all extremely stout for their height) came forward, barging aside his fellows as if to emphasize his importance. He stood before Captain Nimtrott with a pained expression ~ somewhere between a frown and angry frustration ~ maybe he was finding the very act of thinking a bit of a strain? Then he began waving his arms around.

At first the human captive thought that the large Fugleman's gestures were random and then he realised ~ it was a complex sign language. He thought he could make out arms and hand movements that implied aggression, or fighting and, perhaps, 'I am the very important one' but mostly it was just nonsense mime. Then another Fugleman stepped forward, this one was wrinkled with age and stooped. It bowed to the leader or chief and then addressed the Captain directly.

"You captive. Chief not eat you today. You attack us hunters. We kill you?"

 The chief nodded and gestured emphatically.

"You eat our food. Friends we be?"

The old Fugle translated.

Captain Nimtrott nodded in agreement. He was busy digesting the implications of the garbled translation. Did he hear right? Was that the fate of those two scouts that went missing last year in the forest? Were they eaten by they odd creatures?

"Chief say; you leader of mans on horses: Marry his daughter and there is peace between Fulges and Mans?"

An ugly little female Fugle came forward; she was thinner than the chief, but still very stout. Her green grey complexion did nothing to excite the Captain's romantic inclinations. Neither did her being half his height and twice his width. The large wart on her nose just finished off the ensemble. He wanted to feint or disappear into the ground.

Captain Nimtrott, a tale from the Enchanted Kingdom by Cornelius Clifford. A fairy tale about Captain Nimtrott and his adventures with the little troll people from Greater Narb, a barony in the Enchanted Kingdom, by Cornelius Clifford. Fairy tale, fantasy stories, Enchanted Kingdom, Cornelius Clifford, trolls, Greater Narb, troglodytes.

Map

Cornelius Clifford, at sea, off of the Island of Athon.