Not Every Stumper Can be Cute

"By Xer-Bane! What are they doing?!" I shouted.

Selwyn soldiers were chasing a poor, helpless stumper through the woods. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why our allies would want to harm one of our loveable magic tree stumps. It infuriated me. They were shooting arrows, but the stumper dodged most of them by using trees as shields. I saw a few stuck in him, but they didn't slow him down.

From my vantage point, I could see a small gorge hidden by a hill. If I could get there fast enough, perhaps I could hide the stumper in that gorge and then send my "friendly troops" in the wrong direction. But I needed all my racing skills to close that distance. I kicked into my highest pace, usually reserved for short races, and flew past trees and over logs. Thank Xer-Bane for giving elves long legs and quick reflexes.

I could see the stumper still running towards the gorge. At my pace, we should meet with enough time to hide. I reached the hill, and the stumper came running over it. He was taller than any stumper I've ever seen, with enormous limbs for arms. He was scared, but honestly, he was also a little scary. Oh, well, not every stumper can be cute.

"Hey, over here!" I shouted.

He yelled in surprise but recovered quickly.

"Are me you helping?" He asked.

"Yes, now hurry. Hide down there."

He obeyed and climbed down a few feet. I covered him with dead leaves and branches, then sat on a rock, trying to slow my breathing.

After a few minutes, the soldiers raced over the hill and, when they saw me, came to a sudden stop.

I played King Coins with one of them, and he recognized me.

"Hey, Tim. Did you see a trunker run this way?"

The poor guy was always drunk. He couldn't even say stumper correctly. "I did. He ran off that way." 

He thanked me, and they left. I waited until I lost sight of them, then hopped down to the stumper, uncovering him from my hasty camouflage.

"Sorry I had to bury you like that," I brushed him off.

"Say no sorry. You I thank."

We talked. Well, we sort of talked. Initially, it was a bit difficult, but I got used to his speech pattern. I introduced myself as Tim. He told me his name was Folg, a strange name for a stumper, but it stands to reason that Lady Nimmo would have carved a few oddballs. Artists are so eccentric.

We walked slowly and cautiously. I didn't want to run into any more soldiers. Suddenly, I froze. Several stumpers emerged from the woods. They looked very similar to Folg: tall and scary. Folg tensed. He grabbed my shoulder and told me to stay. He wanted to talk with them alone.

I thought it was a strange request, but after almost being chopped up for firewood by his supposed allies, I was willing to cut him some slack. The new stumpers waved their arms and pointed at me. Folg kept pointing north. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it looked like they were arguing. Suddenly, a couple of the giant stumpers began walking toward me. Folg picked up one of them and threw him into the other. The third giant stumper ran. It happened quicker than I could say, "Hey!"

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Bad they are," is all he said. "Still I with you go?"

"Absolutely! We've got to get you to Lady Nimmo. She'll know how to sort this out."

He gave the most innocent, scary smile I've ever seen. It warmed my heart and gave me the chills.

"Nice you are. Them not." He pointed to the bad three.

We continued our trek towards Jorton. The big guy was starting to grow on me. Although, I didn't understand why he felt so ostracized by his buddies and Lady Nimmo. They are the nicest people you could ever meet. But for some reason, he did. He wanted to start over and make new friends.

"I'm sure you'll discover Lady Nimmo never purposefully hurt you. It's all a big misunderstanding. But as for making new friends, how 'bout you call me a friend? Truthfully, I'm new here and could use as many friends as possible."

He gave me that innocent, scary smile again and nodded.

I could see some of Jorton's highest towers. We were almost there. Folg grew more anxious as we neared. He kept asking if it was okay for him to be here. I reassured him that Lady Nimmo would be glad to see him. While I was attempting to calm him, we heard footsteps.

We hid behind some trees. I peeked around and recognized Lady Nimmo and her Father, Jor.

"Hey there!" I shouted, waving my arms. "It's me, Tim."

"Hello," Lady Nimmo said. "Are you training for your next race?"

"I was, but then I was interrupted by a huge misunderstanding."

Jor interjected, "Misunderstanding?"

"I had to divert Selwyn soldiers from using this poor stumper as a pincushion."

"As a pincushion? Selwyn soldiers. They wouldn't do that to one of our stumpers," Jor said.

"It sure surprised me, but they were shooting at him. They even hit him several times, but you know stumpers. He never noticed. Tell them, Folg." I turned to see empty woods. Folg was nowhere to be seen. "Folg!?" I shouted. That's odd. He was right behind me."

Lady Nimmo and Jor joined me in my search for the big guy. We went in different directions. I walked behind a clump of trees and found Folg. He was standing in the middle, clearly trying to hide.

"What's up, big guy?"

"Scared."

"Come with me. There is nothing to fear. You'll see."

He followed apprehensively.

"Hey guys, I found him."

Lady Nimmo and Jor came jogging, then pulled up when they saw Folg.

"What are you doing with that?" Jor said. The tone of his voice took me aback. It was almost accusatory. I noticed him reaching for his sword.

"Dad, wait," Lady Nimmo said. "Your eyes."

"What about them?" He was caught off guard by her question.

"They're not on fire. Neither is your sword. Your magic knows there is no danger. Let's give Tim a chance to explain."

"Explain quickly, Tim. I'm not going to lie. It doesn't look good consorting with a trunker."

"You mean stumper?" I asked.

"No, I mean trunker."

I was so confused and grateful when Lady Nimmo stepped in.

"Tim, have you ever heard of a trunker?"

"I haven't."

"Well, that explains everything," she looked at her father reproachfully. "So you think you're standing next to a stumper?"

"Aren't I?"

"No, but I can see how a newcomer could get confused. Well, except for their obvious size difference and overall scariness."

I almost stepped away from Folg but then thought better of it. No matter who he is, I've gotten to know him; he is my friend. His smile might give goosebumps, but his heart is good.

"You're correct, my lady, I am new. I've never heard of a trunker, but this big guy is my friend. If he had meant to harm me, he would have done it when his buddies showed up. I didn't understand then, but he fought for me, and I owe him."

Lady Nimmo and Jor looked at each other. They still appeared uptight and on their guard, but I saw them soften just a tiny bit. I continued to tell of Folg's desire to start over and make new friends, how his creator was cruel to him, and how the other trunkers picked on him.

Lady Nimmo turned to Folg, "Folg, how do we know we can trust you?"

His eyes lowered, and he looked like he was having trouble coming up with an answer: "Think different, trungen tree I am. Not like others."

Lady Nimmo and Jor were shocked.

"You're a trungen tree?" Jor asked.

He nodded.

"I wonder," Lady Nimmo said. "Come with us. But let's be careful not to freak people out too much."

We only freaked out a few people on our way to Lady Nimmo's house. One of them was Flimlet, a good friend who really hates trunkers. I had to restrain him from chopping my new friend into kindling.

Jor went to get Trungen, a shepherd spirit of Trungen Forest. She arrived shortly and began to communicate with Folg in their language.

Their speech sounded like dried leaves blown in the wind. I had no idea what they were saying, but it was pleasant to hear. A feeling of peace and tranquility filled my mind. Then Trungen broke the hypnotic spell.

"He is telling the truth. He is a trungen tree, and he means no harm. I don't know how the Shadow Elf Creator got a hold of a tree from Trungen Forest, but I expect he has more of them. The power of Trungen has overpowered the magic of the evil creator. That's why Folg never belonged. He is truly one of us."

Lady Nimmo wisely called a town meeting and introduced Folg. She had me come up and tell how we met and how Folg protected me. I laughed a lot while recounting our adventure, something I do when nervous. People didn't know how to take my speech. Whispers of, "What's the joke? Why's he laughing? Who's this guy? I think he's cute," carried through the crowd. I'm unsure if the "cute" was intended for me or Folg. Flimlet insists it was for Folg. I finally finished and gladly stepped off the stage.

It was decided that Lady Nimmo should carve a symbol onto Folg to distinguish him from other trunkers. However, no one could agree on the symbol. Some suggested the Selwyn Crest, others the Seal of the Glorious Mountain, and others famous family crests. The debate was getting nowhere fast until Folg asked to speak.

"I like tree gold trunk, green leaves. Trungen symbol."

My jaw dropped. It was perfect, and it came from Folg, the last person anyone would expect to solve the problem.

Folg became a part of Jorton, a part of us. His story spread throughout, and his symbol rose to number three among the most famous symbols in Wanowyn by Wanowyn Wisemen, a very prestigious scroll company. They touted its simplicity as its genius. The Trungen symbol, a gold trunk with emerald leaves, was adopted by the town of Jorton. Now, every stumper and soldier of Jorton bears it. 

Folg still warms the hearts and chills the bones with his scary, innocent smile, but he has endeared himself to us. He has not only become a part of Jorton but has also given Jorton its identity and made me a friend.