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In the Olden Days, there was a great city, greater than any one that's been built in the New World. It had to be, you know, for it was the home of King Mazda - the first ever King - and King Mazda was one of those people who insisted that everything should be made just so. Its gates were forged from gold, its buildings were made of marble and its streets were paved with all kinds of wonderful stones. The gardens of that city stretched for many miles around, and grew such wonderful food - potatoes and pumpkins and orchards of apple trees and I don't know what else besides. And everyone in that city was happy and content, for Mazda was a wise and just ruler, even if he was rather fussy.
But of all the wonderful things in that city, the most wonderful wasn't made of gold or grown in a field. No, that most wonderful thing was Shinta, the daughter of King Mazda, who lived in the great palace with him and all his servants. Everyone across the World agreed that there wasn't woman as fair and beautiful as her, for her hair was as black as woven ebony, her skin was as pale as snow and her eyes were like two glittering emeralds. Whenever she walked down the street, men and women alike stopped and stared after her, for they were left speechless by her beauty. Once, the Blacksmith's son was hammering a horseshoe when she came past, and he was so distracted by her he accidentally hammered his own hand by mistake!
In fact, Shinta was so beautiful that people from all over the World came to ask her hand in marriage. They were people from all corners of life - princes and paupers, dukes and farmer, huntsmen and musicians. And all of them tried their very best to impress Shinta, for they were completely smitten with her when they first laid eyes on her, and many swooned on the spot whenever she smiled their way. But King Mazda always chased them off, for he was determined to make sure that the man who married his daughter was "just so", as was typical of him.
"I'll not have my daughter marry just anyone," he would say again and again. "It just wouldn't do to give her away to some layabout or drunkard. She's going to have a proper husband, or my name isn't King Mazda!"
Now, it so happened that in the moon, that hung over the Old World, there lived a terrible creature - a Troll who called himself Azgoth. He was a huge and ugly brute, with great sticky-out teeth and legs like tree-trunks, and he always carried a great big club with him wherever he went. I don't know where he came from, and I don't suppose anyone knew, but what everyone knew for certain was that Azgoth was mad, madder than a ferret in the spring. He would roar and beat his club on the ground until the rocks cracked, and he would pick up massive boulders with one hand and throw them, hard enough to fly all the way around and back again. And every night, he would look down upon the World the Great Dragon had made and sneer at it, for he felt there was nothing upon it as strong as he was.
"Look at them all," he would say. "Silly little beasts and birds, full of brittle bones. They're nothing compared to me! I've cracked the stone of the moon, and thrown it around and back again! I've fought the silver spiders that live in the cracks, and killed them with just one blow of my fist! I am the strongest thing there is - there's nothing down there that can compare to me!" But although he would never admit it, Azgoth was quite lonely, living up in the moon. For there was only himself, and nothing else - the spiders had grown afraid of him, and I don't blame them for it.
One night, however, it so happened that Shinta was walking past the royal pond, on the night of a full moon. The light of it glistened on the water, and the frogs that lived there croaked with joy as they swam about. And it glistened in Shinta's hair, too, so that it looked like it had been hammered out of the purest silver as she bent town to look at her reflection. It was at this moment that Azgoth, the Mad Moon Troll, was looking down upon the World, and he happened to catch sight of the King's Daughter kneeling there by the pond. Almost at once he was smitten with her, for he had never seen anything so beautiful as her in all his life.
"Ho-ho!" he cried aloud to himself. "What a marvelous and splendid creature this is! She isn't strong - nothing is as strong as I am - but her hair shines like the moon I stand upon, and her skin is as pale as the dust that blows through my home! Well, that's that - I've got it in my head to make a bride of her, for the strongest in the world should have only the most beautiful woman for his wife!"
As soon as he said that, Azgoth picked up his great club, bent at the knees and - whoosh! - jumped down from where he had been standing, and fell down, down, down to the World below. And just as Shinta was looking at the petals of a particularly pretty flower, he landed - thump! - right next to her, the ground shaking like a jelly beneath his feet so that the poor girl lost her balance and fell over. The frogs in the ponds thought the end had come, and they dived into the pond so deep I doubt anyone could have found them if they tried.
"Who are you?" cried Shinta, very much afraid. For Azgoth was huge, bigger than a house, and his breath blew all in her face and stank horribly.
"My name, dear lady," said the Troll, "is Azgoth, the Moon Troll! Perhaps you've heard of me, and perhaps you haven't - but it doesn't matter very much! I've come to take you away, fair thing, and make you my wife! You'd be very happy up there, I can promise you, for you would be wedded to the strongest creature in the World!"
"No, I would not!" said Shinta, hotly. "I've no desire to get married to a horrid, ill-mannered beast like yourself!"
"Ho-ho!" boomed Azgoth. "What a fine sense of humour you have, fair thing! I believe I really have found myself the perfect wife - and to think I'd have spent all my life alone on the moon! Come, my bride-to-be, we have arrangements to make!"
And so saying, the Mad Moon Troll reached down with one of his enormous hands, as wide as an ox-cart, and picked Shinta up off the floor and into the air! The poor girl kicked and struggled as hard as ever she could, but it was no good - she was caught fast, the breath being squeezed out of her, and Azgoth couldn't feel a thing through his stony skin. Then the Troll turned around, bent at the knees and - whoosh! - jumped all the way into the sky up towards the moon, faster than even the snake could run! Poor Shinta could see her house and all the World getting smaller and smaller, until it looked as small as an ant!
"Help!" she cried as she felt herself flying away. "Somebody stop this monster! Help, help!"
That cry was the most sensible thing she could have done. For Lord Stag had been walking through the forest at the time, and had heard the cry just as he was coming out of the trees towards the pond. It had made him look up into the sky, wondering if there were owls about, but instead he saw Azgoth flying into the sky, carrying the King's Daughter in one hand as he soared towards the moon. As he watched, the Troll got smaller and smaller, and Shinta's cries got fainter and fainter, until at last they had both vanished against the bright, silvery light of the moon.
It was all Lord Stag could do to keep his wits about him, I can tell you. He'd heard of Azgoth before, and had been afraid, but he never imagined that someday he'd actually go down to the World and cause any harm. So when he saw Azgoth carrying Shinta away, he turned and ran back the way he'd came, as fast as his great long legs would carry him. He didn't stop running, not for even a minute, and he'd ran across half the whole forest until he reached a clearing where no trees grew and the ground was carpeted with flowers. And there he found the One, lying among the primroses and being fussed over by a swarm of butterflies, for they wanted to make sure he was nice and clean.
The One almost jumped when Lord Stag rushed into the clearing, but he saw the panic on the deer's face at once, and knew trouble was at hand. "What's the matter, old friend?" he asked.
"News - oh, terrible news, Gein-Kiir!" panted Lord Stag, for he was very tired after running so far. "It's Azgoth, the Mad Moon Troll - he's snatched up Shinta, the daughter of King Mazda, and carried her off back to his lair on the moon! Aether knows what he plans to do with her, and I for one can't do anything to stop him! Gein-Kiir, you must do something, or poor Mazda will go mad with grief!"
Then the One saw that this was a very serious matter, and he quickly got up out of the primroses and brushed the butterflies out of his hair. He knew at once that Azgoth meant to keep Shinta, for he was as proud as he was vain and strong, and it would be foolish to try and bargain with a creature as stupid and single-minded as a Troll. The only way he was going to rescue the King's Daughter, he knew, was to fight.
"Go and spread the word," he said. "Go find Old Bruin, and the Council of the Owls, and all the other wise people and animals. Tell them to wait at the city gates, for I promise I will have the King's Daughter back before sunrise."
Lord Stag was only too happy to oblige, and ran off to tell everyone what to do at once. The One watched him leave until his antlers had dissapeared, then took out his shining glove, made of the Fires of the East, and put it onto his hand. And all at once he became the Wrathful, with eyes like burning coals and six powerful arms, and he felt in his body the strength of a thousand men or more, ready to crush and split apart anything. All the butterflies became frightened and flew away at once, for they knew as well as anyone else to get out of the Wrathful's way.
Then the Wrathful turned towards the full moon, bent at the knees and - whoosh! - jumped straight into the air, flying towards the silverly light before him. I don't know just how fast he was going when he jumped, for it was a jump unlike any other, but I can say for certain that he was going much faster than even Azgoth had been, for his great strength was in his legs as well as his arms. And after what seemed like only a minute or two, he laned - thump! - right onto the moon itself, and the whole thing shook with his landing.
Now, if you must know, the moon was as barren as a desert even in the Olden Days. Not a single plant or tree grew on it, and there wasn't any water to drink or food to eat. And the only thing that lived on it, apart from Azgoth, were the great silver spiders that lived in crags and scuttled about, getting into fights and biting each other. And it was full of cliffs and valleys, all made of the same silvery stone that came from the Great Dragon's belly, so that it shone like a thousand lit oil lamps in the darkness. That was the place where the Wrathful had come to, and he didn't much like the look of it at all.
But it didn't take him long to find Azgoth, for he had aimed his jump well and had landed close by. Walking down a valley right in front of him, he found the huge shape of the Mad Moon Troll, hunched over Shinta in the same way a cat hunches over a mouse it has trapped before it kills it. The Troll was trying to persuade the King's Daughter into being his bride, offering her gifts of shining stones and bracelets made of silver and other wonderful things besides. But Shinta would have none of it - she hated this huge ugly creature more than anything else in the world, and had no interest in marrying him at all.
"Let her alone, Azgoth!" called the Wrathful down the valley, and his voice rumbled like thunder across the surface of the moon.
Azgoth was so surprised at hearing another voice that he span around three times on the spot! When he finally stopped, the first thing he saw was the Wrathful standing on the slope of the valley, looking down at him with his blazing eyes. The Troll was very much surprised, for he didn't think that there was anything else that lived on the moon apart from himself, and he wondered what the thing in front of him was.
"Who are you, and where do you come from?" called Azgoth up the valley.
"I am the Wrathful," was the reply. "And I came from the World below, for I jumped higher than the mountains themselves."
"A likely story!" laughed Azgoth. "You couldn't have made the jump - you're far too small and weak!"
"Well, I have," growled the Wrathful. "And I am here to take back the King's Daughter."
And then Azgoth really did laugh, and it was a horrible sound that started from somewhere in his belly and crawled up to his throat. It was such an ugly laugh that it made Shinta run and hide behind a boulder - in fact I don't suppose anyone there wouldn't have been a little afraid if they heard it. Even the Wrathful might have shuddered a little, but he didn't show it on his face.
"You can try," boomed Azgoth. "But if you intend to fight me, then you're out of luck, stranger! For I am the strongest thing in the World - there is nothing the Great Dragon has ever made that could compare to me!"
"We shall see," rumbled the Wrathful as he walked down the valley. And because his strides were so long, it was almost in no time at all that he was face-to-face with the Mad Moon Troll, glaring up at him and baring his teeth. Azgoth was many times bigger than the Wrathful was, and the Wrathful was at the very least eight feet tall, but that didn't seem to scare him in the least - in fact, he didn't show any sort of fear at all. Shinta looked out from behind her boulder and wondered what was going to happen.
"I propose a contest," said the Wrathful. "If you can lift me above your head, and I can't, then I will leave this place and never come back. But if you can't, and I can, then you must give the King's Daughter back to me, and I will take her home."
"Very good," said Azgoth, almost carelessly. "If you win, I will let her go."
And so he reached down and grasped the Wrathful in his hand, and began to try to pick him up. He pulled and pulled and pulled as hard as ever he could, and the great muscles in his arms bulged and rippled like angry snakes. But no matter how hard he tried, the Troll just could not pick the Wrathful up! For you see, the Wrathful had dug his toes into the ground, anchoring himself to the moon, and whenever he gets a grip on something he doesn't ever let go. Three times Azgoth tried to pick up the Wrathful, and each time he had to stop, gasping for breath. Shinta gasped in wonder at this, for she had been certain that the Mad Moon Troll would have won.
"What's the matter?" snarled the Wrathful. "Have you gotten feeble in your old age?"
"Don't you start laughing yet!" snapped Azgoth, very cross that he'd been made a fool of. "You haven't tried picking me up, have you?"
"Let me try, then!" roared the Wrathful, and his voice was so loud the rocks trembled.
And so he grabbed hold of Azgoth's leg - it was a wonder he could, it was as thick as a tree trunk - and tried to pick him up. He pulled and pulled and pulled, and the muscles in all six of his arms grew taut like ropes on a ship. And that was when Azgoth got the shock of his life, for he suddenly felt himself begin to rise into the air! It wasn't long before the Wrathful had managed to get Azgoth up over his head, so the Troll had to balance on the one foot in case he fell over. Shinta, watching behind her boulder, could have cheered at the sight, but keep quiet for fear Azgoth would notice her.
"You see?" called the Wrathful from where he stood. "You're not as strong as you think, Troll!"
"B-b-but," cried Azgoth, "how can this be? Nothing in the World is as strong as I am!" And for the first time in his life, he began to be afraid.
"Foolish beast!" bellowed the Wrathful, now properly angry. "I did not come from the World below, and the Great Dragon did not make me! I came from the never-ending fires and winds of the Aether - the birth place of all spirits and beings and other things besides! And it was I who made people, Azgoth, such as the King's Daughter you stole, and any who have dared interfere or harm my people I have destroyed! And now, Azgoth, you will pay for your arrogance and stupidity!"
With that, the Wrathful began to swing Azgoth around by the leg he held, around his head in a great big circle! And as Shinta watched, the poor Troll began to go faster and faster, around and around, until he was no more than a big grey blur around the Wrathful's head. Then, with a terrible roar, the Wrathful let go of Azgoth's leg, and the great ugly brute - whoosh! - flew out into the sky and down towards the World, even faster than the Wrathful had been going when he jumped up to the moon! In fact, he was going so fast that there was simply no way he could stop himself, and in a moment - splat! - he had hit the ground and burst into a million pieces that went everywhere.
And that was the end of Azgoth the Mad Moon Troll.
But it was not the end of Shinta, the King's Daughter. Because then the Wrathful picked her up and jumped - whoosh! - all the way back down to the World below, and landed outside the gates to the city where she lived. King Mazda and all the wise animals had gathered there, as Lord Stag had asked them to, and the sun was rising over the hills as the Wrathful came back, just as he had promised. Then a tremendous cheering and celebration went up in the city that rang through the halls and streets, for everyone was so happy to see Shinta back alive and well. But I can tell you that none was more happy to see her again than King Mazda, her father, for he had been so frightened for her that he had fallen over twice.
"Oh, my daughter," he cried as he hugged her. "How glad I am to see you! Are you hurt?"
"No, father," said Shinta. "The One came up to the moon and fought with Azgoth, and he saved me!"
"Indeed he has!" cried King Mazda. "And to reward him for his brave actions, I declare that he shall marry you on the following morn, for a braver warrior I have never seen before! Sound the trumpets, unfurl the banners! Get the cooks to prepare a feast in that man's honor! Where is he, for I want to shake his hand!"
But everyone looked around and saw that the One had disappeared! Not a trace of him was to be found!
"I think I know what it is," laughed Lord Stag. "He's put on his Cap of Western Dew and become the Swift, and run off into the hills. I fancy he doesn't much like the idea of being married, for I saw him go red in the face when King Mazda called for the trumpets!"
Everyone had a good laugh at this, and even King Mazda chuckled at the idea of how silly the One was being. But he held the feast anyway, in celebration of his daughter being safe, and from then on he was a lot less fussy about how he did anything or what he wanted. And he never forgot what the One had done for him, either, for whenever they passed by each other they always said "how-do-you-do", and the One was always welcome to pay him and his daughter a visit within his great city.
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Notes on the text:
- This story is similar to the origin of Goblins and Orcs as told in their religion, in which a giant troll called Azgoth accidentally falls off the moon. His death brought about life, as the first Orcs and Goblins were said to have sprang from his blood. The One, however, does not figure much into this tale, even if the races themselves do acknowledge the One Faith and its stories. Perhaps they aren't keen on the idea of losing to "a bluddy six-armed midget" as one so eloquently put it!
- King Mazda was a real historical figure who ruled for an unspecified period of time during the Second Age, estimated to be from 16-13 BD. Ancient texts tell of his particular preparations before feasting or entering a war, and he is often credited as "Mazda the Superstitious" due to his unusual beliefs. The ruins of his grand city, however, have never been found, and it has become the Orvancian equivalent to Earth's El Dorado or Shangri-La.
- Shinta, however, seems to have been a fictional figure invented for the story - no records of any descendant of Mazda's with that name exists.
- The contest between the Wrathful and Azgoth seems to change depending on the telling. Versions include attempting to push each other out of a circle, throwing a boulder or withstanding a blow from Azgoth's mighty club. Whatever the case, the sport is used to showcase the godlike strength of the One compared to any mortal creature.
- Something something something dumb scholars trying to publish fan fiction. You know the drill by now.
