A troll silhouetted atop the crest of a hill
A war searching for new boundaries. Pressing up against the glass. Peering on, seeking for the new setting. Elsewhere, no fire, not even a whiff of smoke will be found. The edges do curl as the war billows. Stray agents searching for air. Guiding the flanks. War casts no shadow. War exists to strangle. Whether a slow acidic burn or a blazing barrage accompanied with projectiles and followed by a sting to the eyes, war is a storm that travels of its own accord. Those that see war as a shadow are merely blinking at its brilliance.
Only a few appreciate the light it shines upon imagination and innovation. What is truly ingenious is learning how to capitalize upon war and not to be capitalized by it. This is where the troll must come in. A monolith. Unmoved and uninterested by the land's inhabitants, it watches passersby with an uncritical eye. An agent without judgment. Given no clue as to what to look for or why it is there. Presenting itself merely as an omen. A satellite creature, one could track its course skirting the main force. A singular spark to pull in spectators and display of the power found farther in.
A troll silhouetted atop the crest of a hill. A terror to the smaller folk below.
Only a few appreciate the light it shines upon imagination and innovation. What is truly ingenious is learning how to capitalize upon war and not to be capitalized by it. This is where the troll must come in. A monolith. Unmoved and uninterested by the land's inhabitants, it watches passersby with an uncritical eye. An agent without judgment. Given no clue as to what to look for or why it is there. Presenting itself merely as an omen. A satellite creature, one could track its course skirting the main force. A singular spark to pull in spectators and display of the power found farther in.
A troll silhouetted atop the crest of a hill. A terror to the smaller folk below.