The troll looked like nothing more or less than a statue hewn roughly out of granite, with a little moss for hair. It had a huge bulbous nose, and when it smiled, even its teeth looked like two rows of rocks. It was clothed, more or less, in a shapeless garment that looked as if it had been made out of bark.

“Greetings, Red Cloak,” the creature rumbled. Its voice sounded like rocks tumbling down a hillside, and yet, somehow, Giselle could understand it. “Pieter has been very, very good. Pieter has not frightened anyone, and Pieter has only eaten goats Pieter got from Pieter’s own flock.”

“You have been good!” Rosa exclaimed. “Pieter, these are my friends. This is Giselle,” she continued, waving her hand at Giselle. “And this is Cody.”

“Friends of Red Cloak? Hunters?” the troll asked. He raised his head a little, and stared at them, eyebrow slowly rising.

“No, not Hunters, but they have Power.” Rosa gestured to the two of them to come closer to the troll. Trusting her friend completely, Giselle stepped right up, close enough to touch the creature. Cody was a little more wary, staying the length of the troll’s arm away. From close up, the troll was . . . somehow less intimidating. She shouldn’t have been able to make out an expression on his rocky face, and yet, she could. It was benign. She would have said, gentle, if she hadn’t been standing underneath a towering form that was at least four times as tall as she was.

“Remember that I said that you couldn’t always tell if an Elemental was good or bad? Pieter is a case in point. Most trolls are incredibly dangerous. Pieter, on the other hand, has been an ally of the Bruderschaft for centuries.” Rosa patted Pieter’s hand, which lay on the ground beside her and was nearly as big as she was. Pieter’s arms were very much longer than his stubby legs, so as he stood there, his hands were palm-down on the ground.

“Pieter is old,” Pieter agreed, nodding slowly. “Pieter guards the bridge. Pieter keeps bad things from crossing.”

“Trolls are traditionally found around bridges, and usually demand a toll of something living to cross it,” Rosa continued. “Pieter, on the other hand, has been a shepherd for as long as I am aware. The Brotherhood brings him goats, or sometimes he buys them when he needs to replenish his herd. When any of us gets into trouble around here, and we’re being chased, we lead our pursuer here, to the bridge, and Pieter usually makes short work of them.”

“Pieter guards the bridge,” Pieter agreed.

“Can I touch you?” Giselle asked, fascinated.