Je vous ai envoyé la news hier matin, Finntroll a fait un communiqué hier soir.
(Ha, dommage, je peux pas mettre de lien dans le commentaire.)

Wooden Thrones

Once upon a time, in a vast land of mythical creatures, there were six Trolls- Talltroll, Stonertroll, Swedotroll, Curlytroll, Chubbytroll and lastly, Beardytroll, who fas particularly fond of banging wooden objects together with his huge paws.
The trolls lived in a perfect harmony until the evil wizard from the nearby castle casted a horrific curse upon them, destroying the village shaman Swedotroll´s powerful voice forever, and driving the groups leader, Talltroll, into his own death from the bridge they all once used to live underneath.

Winters came, snows melted and soon new packs of trolls wandered into the village, looking for food and merry company. Soon after Talltroll´s tragic death Mosstroll was welcomed to the ranks, followed hastly by Mountaintroll, the new village shaman. The trolls kept on drinking, feasting and- most of all- visiting nearby villages by performing trickery and magic to the simple folks who were entertained by these weird and hairy creatures. But soon Mountaintroll was caught stealing their food and was banished from the horde, and the shaman duties were handed to Skinnytroll, who was found living under another, moss- covered bridge nearby. Beardytroll, who liked Mountaintroll more than the others- sharing the same passion for meat and other fine things in life- was disgruntled. He felt the first doubts on his mind concerning the way of life they had chosen, most likely caused by the evil wizard, known for his skills earlier. But quiet as he was, he banged his wooden objects together even madder and more fiercely and kept his meat- pit shut.

When Sharptroll joined the horde, everything looked perfect again for a while. Visit after visit to the nearby peasant villages followed each other, but alas, Beardytroll wasn´t happy. From the evil wizard´s curse the seeds of ill had been sown upon him, and he wasn´t satisfied with the life they had. The meat was sometimes rotten (even too rotten for his taste, which was a small miracle on itself), the other trolls stank worse than his leftover morning mead, and every trip and travel they made felt heavier and heavier as time passed by.
One day, Beardytroll couldn´t just take it anymore- the annoyement and dissatisfaction towards the merry life of the trolls had consumed him longer than it should had, thus forcing him finally to open his meat-pit to the puzzled creatures while they were all gathered around the warm campfire. Even the cracling of the burning wood seemed to be silent when Beardytroll conjured the words he had wanted to say for some time.

”Me leave”, he said, looking almost embarrassedly downwards. Judging from his expression, his bare feet seemed so interesting at him that one could almost think he was talking to them instead of the other trolls. ”Me want see other tribes. No longer bang bang here.”

"You no leave. We like", mumbled Stonertroll, suddenly dropping the half- eaten chicken from his hand, struck by complete awe. ”You...you talk to you shoes now?”, he continued, but was quickly left ignored by the rest who could realize better Beardytroll was actually trying to speak to them instead of his own feet.
"No, no leave", grunted Curlytroll. ”Yes leave. This too long. Want other thing. Other meat. Better meat”, Beardytroll roared, this time looking straight into the others. Chubbytroll rose his hefty bottom from his rock, pointing his meaty and dirty finger to the north. Little brown hair visibly rising up at the crooked end of it, his fleshy and shaky pointer turning it´s direction towards the castle where the wizard dwelled and stopped it´s movement like a spell had it frozen. "It wizard....he make you think bad. You no stupid like Talltroll. You know better. No leave".

But nothing the trolls said could turn Beardytroll´s bald head anymore. He grabbed his sack, stomped his feet one last time and rose from his woodstump to make his final leave. With heavy hearts and sweaty tears blending on their mugs of mead, they watched Beardytroll´s hairy back bouncing towards the hill, disappearing to the forest with a feint sound of a sad, whistling fart.
Known as the ultimate greeting and mutual showing of respect towards their kin, all the rest of the trolls responded with a rumbling noise eradicating from their bellies, making it´s way out from under their tails. Banging his hairy fist to his chest, Curlytroll opened his upper end first.
"Like Beardytroll. But he away. We still us." "Yes", continued Sharptroll. "We pound big wood like he. We pound so loud Hastytroll hears. Maybe Hastytroll come".

The sun setting upon the mossy village of the trolls at that evening, Beardytroll´s footprints were swiped away by the blowing northwinds inch by inch. With the winds, a hollow rhytm blended and swirled- echoing first faintly, but quickly growing it´s volume and intensity like the God of Wind itself was giving it speed and ferocity.

"Hear brothers. Is Hastytroll. Hastytroll come", they whispered to each other, almost frightened.

"Hastytroll come".

TO BE CONTINUED.

Communiqué absolument illisible, à l'image du reste de ce groupe