Legends of Belariath
Troll Religion
I've read the stories as they were told years ago. One troll's efforts to put pen to parchment and dispel some of the myths surrounding his race. Our Race. You see, I too am a troll, not the same strain of creature as the other, but still I lay as much claim to our ancient birthrights as any.
As I read Roquai's reports on the nature of trollkind, I was impressed with their completeness. But to the matters of Faith, the origins of our great Gift of Regeneration, and the Enmity that burns between our people and the hated Ogres... I found my cousin woefully uninformed.
This shouldn't surprise me, and the reason for that will soon be known. For I am inspired by the efforts of this other troll, to put to writing the Rest of the story... Here in Unigo's hallowed Halls, for all time shall stand this testament. Read it, learn it, and take from it what wisdom you will.
Kuromaku
The Birth of Giants
Cousin Roquai (no actual relation, but kin nonetheless) indicated in his reports that trolls had no common religion, no one God or Goddess in whom they might all place their faith.
This is not so, or it was not always so. Once long ago our holy men would speak the name of Tarsus, the Sun-Father. Already you must doubt my word, having read of Trolls and our extreme vulnerability to the Sun's rays. To be then the worshippers of a Sun God seems madness.
But trust in me, reader, that weakness was not always part of our heritage... In the beginning we were something altogether different than the beings you may have come to know.
In the beginning, there was only Tarsus the Sun-Father, and the World-Mother. These two beings had danced together through the Heavens for untold ages, and over time the World had borne for Tarsus two daughters, the lovely rose moon Zhakata, and her elder sister, the brooding mysterious changing moon Arikel.
Tarsus and the World were very proud of their children, and for untold ages more the heavenly family was content. The World gave birth to many other life forms, in all shapes and sizes. The birds of air, and fishes in the chilling embrace of the World's seas, the beasts of field all came to be born as Tarsus looked on, and his daughters with him.
When Elves, and Humans and other such beings came to be, Tarsus saw in them the tiniest bit of potential, a fraction of nobility and majesty like his own. Soon the Sun-Father wished to beget a race like these, but without the frailty and pettiness. He created the Giants.
Tall and strong they were, His favored sons. Molded in the image of the
Sun-Father, the Giants touched down upon the bosom of the World and were the subjects of much awe and even fear from the smaller creatures, who were less powerful, more primitive and lacking in understanding.
Tarsus was pleased, as was the World. Zhakata, the rose moon, was a doting sister to the fledgling race, staying with them the night through to shine with love and happiness. And in the day, as the Giants made their way across the World, they felt the Love of their Father in every ray of sun.
The Sunstone
Of the Heavenly Family, only Arikel, the eldest child of Sun and World, took
no joy in the creation of her brothers. By night, often she would hide herself
away, and her face give no light to her siblings. Unknown to Father and Mother,
Arikel would go on these nights to seek out dark spirits, and fearful men of
the lesser races, to breathe into their sleeping ears nightmares. Dream of
Giant fists, huge feet trampling helpless women and children, of being taken
from their homes and devoured by the Sons of
Soon the lessers rose up, made what weapons they could, what plans they were able... The Giants were a peace loving people, and had never known the use of a sword or spear until the first bite of cold metal into their perfect flesh. Betrayed and uncomprehending, the Giants called out to the Sun-Father for protection from the wrath of the lesser creatures.
Help came in the form of a radiant gemstone; pink and red of the sunrise, gold of morning light, fiery orange of sunset as well. All were represented in the Sunstone, the symbol of the Sun-Father's love for his sons. The power of the Sunstone was enough to scatter the forces arrayed against Giantkind, but the wisest of the Sons of Tarsus knew that eternally afterward, his brothers and himself would need to be vigilant against further threats to their peaceful way of life.
Though all of Giantkind was blessed and beloved of the Sun-Father,
The others, Giants who were unwilling for whatever reason to accept so awesome a responsibility, were called Ogorach, 'those who are protected'. And for a time all was well. The Giants, Torolach and Ogorach, were happy and lived in peace, Izmur and his blessed brothers watching over the rest.
Seeing that her scheming to destroy her brothers was a failure, Arikel devised a new plan. Though they all lived in harmony now, the Dark Moon knew that some Giants of the Ogorach secretly, in their darkest hearts, were Jealous. Some felt that the Sun-Father loved his Torolach sons more than his Ogorach.
In darkness, Arikel whispered her poisonous slanders to the Ogorach, and slowly, when the light of their father's love was far on the other side of the world, the Ogorach began to listen...
The Sundering
Years passed, with the Ogorach hiding their growing resentment, and the Torolach working to defend the Giant way of life. Tarsus, very greatly pleased with the vigilance, decided to bestow upon the Torolach a gift. He pondered the matter for many days, wondering what he could give to his sons to reward them.
Seeking a gift worthy of his bravest sons, Tarsus consulted his eldest daughter, Arikel. The Dark Moon was still very angry about having her plot against the Giants thwarted, and she told her Father to give the Torolach Nothing, let continued service be its own reward. Then Tarsus asked the advice of Zhakata, who with a shy smile asked that the Sun-Father leave the matter in her hands.
Tarsus did as she asked, and left her to decide the reward for the Torolach. Zhakata then went to her Mother, the World. All around, she observed the other creatures of the World, the animals and the lesser races. Though all paled in comparison to the power and glory of the Giants, they nonetheless possessed something that Zhakata's brothers did not.
They all had Mates.
The Sun-Father created all Giants in his own image, and therefore they were all male. The first female Giants were daughters of the World. Tawny skin like fertile earth, eyes as clear and bright as the sea, they were beautiful. For the first time in all their history, the Giants of the Torolach knew the peace and comfort of a lover's arms. Their tremendous burden of duty was made more bearable with the inclusion of beautiful and understanding mates, and songs of thanks to Tarsus were sung to the Heavens daily.
Unfortunately, the jealousy of the Ogorach only grew with following the arrival of the Torolach's brides. One in particular, an Ogorach of particularly avaricious and envious bent named Burbul, spent every night in his bed, wrapped in fitful dreams of possessing the power, prestige and Women of his Torolach brethren.
Arikel sought this weak-willed Ogorach out, in his dreams she appeared. As Burbul tossed and turned in the night, The Dark Moon whispered to him, as she had to the lesser creatures before. Her message now was not one of fear, but of promises and secrets... 'Kill them,' she whispered to her pawn, 'and you will inherit their power'.
Burbul was tortured by these dreams when he woke each morning, and vowed not to listen. The next night, Arikel would return, with teasing glimpses of a world where he, Burbul, was favorite of the Sun-Father. The strongest, most revered, with many beautiful and ardent mates. In time he looked forward to these dreams, and spent his days wandering the land and nursing a profound hatred for his Torolach brothers.
Burbul started to make contact with others, directed by the voice of the Dark Moon. There existed a growing number of dissatisfied and jealous Ogorach, who all heard Arikel's honeyed words as strongly as Burbul did. Still the Ogorach were afraid to try what they were all wanting to do. They had witnessed the healing powers of the Torolach, and could find no way to overcome it.
Arikel already knew a way. A poison, made of all the dark things that balance the goodness in the World. She revealed the secret of its making to the Ogorach, and they brewed it in a hidden place underground where the Eye of the Sun-Father could not see. When it was done, the Ogorach invited the Torolach and their mates to come and feast in celebration of the peace and happiness Giantkind now enjoyed. Suspecting no treachery from their weaker brothers, the Torolach agreed.
For this one day, trusting their brothers implicitly, the Torolach left the Sunstone unguarded, and joined with their Ogorach brothers. Burbul and his cadre of betrayers placed their unholy poison into the food, of which all partook. The Ogorach had no fear of this brew, for as Arikel promised them, it would do nothing more than hinder the Torolach's ability to heal. The rest was up to them.
After the feast, as the Giants all enjoyed laughter and song together, Arikel the Dark Moon interposed herself between the gaze of the Sun-Father, and the actions of her pawns. In the unexpected darkness of the day-turned-night, Burbul and his followers sprang their trap. Brandishing weapons not used since the battle with the Humans and Elves, the Ogorach struck their brothers down, and took their women by force.
Izmur and a few others fought back after many Torolach were slain, and retreated to the location of the Sunstone. There they found Burbul's followers attempting to take possession of their Father's sacred relic, and their rage knew no bounds. Attacking swiftly, the Torolach seized the Sunstone from the traitorous Ogorach, and called on its divine power to smite their brethren.
The Dark Moon smiled as she chose that moment to remove herself from Tarsus' path, and let him look upon the Torolach as they used the Sunstone to destroy the Ogorach in droves. So great was his anger, that the Sun-Father's gaze burned the every flesh from Izmur's bones, and the Sunstone was cast far from the keeping of Giantkind.
Elsewhere, Torolach found their bodies ravished by the searing gaze of the Sun-Father, and fled in every which direction they could. Some went to the swamps where under the cover of dense trees and choking, fetid swamp gasses, they could be safe. Others went underground, in great caverns carved by water and time through the hearts of mountains. Some fled North, to the bitter cold where the Sun-Father's gaze was always heavily lidded by clouds and frost.
But some few, Izmur's best friends and most loyal brothers, sought shelter only for a short while as the Ogorach fled their father's wrath. Each day the remaining Torolach would come from hiding, and be seared as before. Each night they would pray for forgiveness, and justice. Over time, the Torolach who remained grew highly resistant to their father's gaze, but the poison that had hindered their ability to heal would linger for many generations.
These Giants, now called simply Torol, meaning "those who do" were the first Rock Trolls. Their Brothers in the swamps rejected the notion of responsibility for their crimes, blaming everyone but themselves. Their Healing was restored by foul tinctures and the same sort of knowledge that once allowed Burbul and the Ogorach, now called Ogor; "those who are", to poison them in the first place. However, the anger of the Sun-Father is most strongly felt by the Swamp Torol, and they ignite like tinder under the dimmest skies.
The Torol of the mountains locked themselves away, and refused to ever speak of what happened that fateful day. They lie now as then, in the middle ground neither damned nor forgiven. The Ogor were repaid their crimes tenfold, as greed, lust, and mistrust overtook their entire way of life, and they are now little better than animals.
Of us all, only we the Rock Troll remember what happened, and how we came to be as we are. We keep the story alive in each generation by one telling, from Shaman to Apprentice. Until now no troll has had the chance to tell his story to others, and have it be recorded.
We no longer worship the Sun-Father. He will not hear our prayers. When day comes most Troll hide away and wait for Tarsus' vengeful gaze to pass, returning the cool dark of night. The Rose Moon, sweet Zhakata, still shines for us, without fail, a comforting presence to her fallen little brothers. And Arikel, the Dark Moon, orchestrator of our fall, watches at her leisure, sometimes not showing her face to the World, and other times grinning madly, shining silvery over her siblings, her foes, and her abandoned pawns.