Monkeys Fighting Badgers

Morgo's Visage

Morgo barreled through the woods like a carriage without a driver, foolishly believing he could outrun cruel circumstance.

"Why?" he bellowed. Only the shrieks of startled swallows answered him.

His grotesque legs buckled as he came to a painful halt on the rock sprinkled banks of the Archinald River. Ragged breaths escaped his newly malformed lips. The cruel waters showed him the truth. He was hideous--a twisted artist's abstract interpretation of Morgo's once noble face peered back.

Clenched fists pounded the spiteful waters.

"Damn that warlock," he whimpered, as tears streamed channels down his face.

Morgo was hunting, as he did several times a week. He moved with skill through the scattered trees, scanning for tracks, when he spotted a large, silver haired wolf, the most massive wolf he'd ever come across. Morgo was baffled that a wolf that size left no tracks or other evidence of its presence, but he didn't dwell on the issue. He kept his breaths shallow and quiet as he maneuvered himself behind the wolf's line of sight. He picked his moment, and thundered forward with his great hefty ax raised for the kill. The wolf turned its head just before it was separated from the rest of its body.

Morgo barely wiped the wolf's blood from his brow when electricity pulsated up his spine and made the stubby hairs on his head stand at attention.

"Who killed my familiar?" The voice was aged and hoarse, but deeply haunting. Morgo wanted to flee, but his feet felt fastened to the ground. Muddy gray clouds gathered overhead. They echoed the anger of that terrible voice. Three thick trees in front of Morgo seemed to part out of fear as a terrible figure emerged from between. Tall and frail, this enigma appeared to be no more than tattered cloth and red eyes, but mostly hair. The spectral figure looked from his dead wolf to Morgo.

"You monster!" he bellowed. "You'll pay for this. From now on, you will reflect what you've done here today."

Morgo begged for mercy, He explained that he needed to feed his wife and children and claimed ignorance, but the wizard was unmoved. A crackle of light sparked from the wizard's fingertips and the world went dark.

When Morgo woke, his hands told him the wizard was not bluffing.

Now, lying on the banks of the river, he pondered his sad fate. He couldn't return home to his family looking like this. As much as his heart ached, Morgo knew he'd have to leave his home. No matter what he was on the inside, a human would not be accepted in the troll world.