Featuring: Buululk (Skull Kingdom Troll) and Derdrik (Skull Kingdom Gnome).

Dry Meadow(#194RatM)

This broad, hanging valley stands barren and lifeless between the two forks of the Knife Edge Mountains. Clumps of short brown grasses dot the area, accompanied by an occasional gnarled cottonwood tree. The region is devoid of life other than the possible traveller or trader that passes through going hither and thither from the distant settlements to the north and south. The dusty road branches here: northeast lies the the scorched desert wastelands, the endless bogs of the Malg swamp, northwest the road continues over another ridge of mountains that loom over the not-to-distant horizon, and south lies the road over the southern most pass in the Knife Edge Mountains.

Contents:
Buululk(#2226POenACc)
Obvious exits:
Reinforced Doors leads to Watchtower.
East leads to Path to Swamp.
Northwest leads to Desert Path.
Northeast leads to North Pass.
South leads to South Pass.

System Time: Sat Jan 19 23:57:13 2002

Shannara Time:
A snowy dawn, around 4AM of winter - Wednesday 08 of February, 994

~~~

As the new day begins streaks of soft white light penetrate the clouds as the snow falls lazily downward from the skies above. The snow itself lays undisturbed by any animal or traveller for the most part except for one set of deep prints freshly made heading southwards. Stopped upon the road heading south stands a figured dressed in a ragged cloak who has made the freshly trodded snow path as they raise a waterskin to their lips the other hand hides under the brownish cloak itself.

By the watchtower stand several Northland Army guards on duty, most of them lesser Trolls, Man-height in stature, with bark-like skin and nearly featureless faces. A few large Rock Trolls and small Gnomes fill out the ranks.

One of the men in the company is a Gnome, standing only shoulder-height next to his comrades. He seems rather ragged and thin under his armor, his yellow skin dirty and sweaty. The small man sighs as he leans on his spear and watches the vicinity. Catching sight of the oncoming stranger, he watches after him for lack of anything better to do.

Wiping the mouth the waterskin is recapped and placed under the cloak one more to keep it from freezing. Turning dark eyes towards the tower and the many guards he makes his way slowly towards them in no big rush it seems. As the lesser troll comes closer his left hand is clearly upon the hilt of his weapon as he looks from side to side. Digging a path throught the snow itself he comes close enough to be heard before he finally stops watching those before him waiting for who knows what.

A coulple of the Trolls beside the Gnome turn their attention to the other Troll, but their faces are impossible to read. The Gnome himself raises an eyebrow as he sizes up the other man, a couple of heads taller than he. He nods to acknowlede the other's presence, but he says nothing for the time being, keeping silent.

After a long moment of silence and no movement the lesser troll begins once more moving closer his hand remains upon his sword hilt though in case the need arises. His right hand remains in sight away as he looks about the camp his eyes darting some erractically almost as if ready to be set upon. Reaching with his hand he wipes the snow from his shoulders dislodging it from him which in turn finally shows the symbol of the Lonnok tribe on a small patch on his cloak. Returning the gnomes nod he looks about with intense eyes before facing the gnome once more and says, "Good day". Spotting a couple of rock trolls he gives them a nod before turning back to the gnome before him and asks, "Anyone allowed to pass today?

At first the Gnome says nothing. He just watches the Troll with curious apprehension, cocking his eyebrow a second time, keeping silent.

A moment later, a horn blows, and the other men stand at ease, most heading back inside the tower as the end of the night watch is signalled. The Gnome sighs wearily, sticks his spear in the snow beside him, and scratches his head. "Sorry about that. No talking while on duty." He snorts. "Pass, eh? Couldn't say, myself. You could check with one of the higher-ups inside." The little man takes a moment to study the Troll, catching sight of his tribal insignia. "Lonnok, huh? What're you heading south for?"

Buululk waits for his answer and looks about the uiet tower wondering if he is getting ready to get attack when the horn blows giving him a slight jump with the quietness then the noise just now. Shaking his head he looks to the tower and decides if he wants to go in and talk to someone higher or not before the thought leaves him for now at the gnomes question towards him. Looking back to the smaller fellow he offers a smile of things yet to come as he replies with ease, "With snow laying about on the ground there aught to be a few traveling merchants that need a lighter load and where one such as I can borrow a few things from them since they will not really mind with the false promise of living.

"Heh," says the Gnome Derdrik, looking up at the Troll. "Nothing wrong with robbing Elves and Men, if you ask me. Good fun to slaughter Dwarves, too, after they stole my people's land." He snorts, his lip curling in distaste. "But false promise of living? I don't know if I could agree with that, my large friend."

Buululk offers a easy smile as he replies, "Makes it easier to lighten a merchants load if he thinks he will live which most times not worth the trouble of killing them, But if you come across a wealthy merchant that was to foolish to hire guards then it is better to offer them the same and kill them when least expecting it to grab all their wealth". Giving a brief shrug he adds, "Must admit do not know how far south I can go for the most part was just told head to the sourthern most army and find the watch Cap't and tell them I am part of the garrison.

Derdrik shrugs. "Well, this is the southernmost army I can think of, so I guess this is your place. Should be some officers inside to report to." He chuckles. "I suppose you're right, there. Not that I have anything against Men, but they're just so easy to take advantage of, you can't help yourself." The Gnome shakes his head and sighs. "No. The only ones I have much against are those accursed Dwarves and the Lizards who sold me here. And we don't get much of either up here, thank the Gods."

Buululk gives a brief nod than says, "What you speak about men is correct except that they breed so fast that none can keep up with them, Kill them all is what I think be better off without em". A chuckle is heard, "Same be for dwarves and elves but that is my opinion". Sighing he gives a brief nod and replies, "Then guess I do not need to pass the gate this morn then, So much for bagging a merchent or two on my way southwards.

The Gnome chuckles. "Never knew Men to breed as fast as us Gnomes. We outnumber all the other Races two to one, or so I'm told. Not that it matters when no one takes us seriously. We've got the best Trackers, Healers, and horsemen in the Four Lands, and no one cares since we're so bloody short." He spits. "Not that you Trolls have it much better, I suppose," he adds as an afterthought.

Buululk offers a laugh as he admits, "I must admit that I did not think you rode horses, But none can argue about the gnomes being the best trackers in the four lands". Giving a chuckle he adds, "I know I would not want to be set aftr by one". Giving a brief shrug he says, "Most leave us alone for they care not for the northlands and or homes if and when they find them.

"Oh, yes. We Gnomes aren't as bad at riding as most give us credit for... Elves'll say they're the best at it, but that's all lies. Not that Graymark has anything of a cavalry, really, but the Anar Gnomes use horses when they can." Derdrik spits in the snow in front of him. "You want to go inside? Cold out here."

Buululk thinks a moment then gives a brief nod, "Might as well have to go in sooner or later as it is". With a chuckle he finally removes his hand off of the sword hilt showing the tribes sysmbol burned onto the back of his hand as he uses the hand to dislodge the rest of the snow from his cloak. Looking about he asks, "Hope there is some strong drink to be had when not on duty.

"We don't serve Troll milk, if that's what you're looking for," says Derdrik with a smirk. "Seriously, I can't believe you people drink that stuff. But we've got enough beer." He picks up his spear again, taps it on his boot to get the snow off the end, and walks toward the watchtower's heavy doors. "This way," he says, beckoning the other man to follow.

Buululk has left.

Watchtower(#1927RntF)

The massive wooden gates of this keep are a prelude to the glory of Skull Kingdom. Flanked by heavy stone turrets, this gate is protected from the ramparts above and hundreds of arrow slits, each manned by a crew of archers. Inside the giant gate lies a broad courtyard, cluttered with activity. Armored men are constantly taking off and putting on armor, clanking swords together in training or tending to horses. On the far end of the courtyard lies a stone staircase that spirals upward to a door set into the wall, 50 feet up or so.
Contents:
Buululk(#2226POenACc)
Obvious exits:
Spiral Staircase leads to Barracks.
Reinforced Doors leads to Dry Meadow.