Trundle
In the heart of the Freljord, where the cold itself devours the weak... a monster carved his throne from ice and deceit. They say his laughter echoes across the tundra, a promise of frost, and of blood.
Opening
Fiercely territorial, Trundle hunts any soul foolish enough to trespass into his frozen domain. With Boneshiver, his colossal club of True Ice, gripped tight, he strikes with brutal delight, freezing flesh and shattering bone. As jagged pillars of ice erupt around his prey, he laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that echoes through the tundra, while the snow drinks the blood of the fallen.
The Chronicle
In the frozen heart of the Freljord roams Trundle, a hulking troll whose strength is matched only by his cunning. Mischievous and brutal, he bends all things to his will, even the ancient ice that blankets his domain. With his massive frozen club, he strikes fear into those who cross him, chilling their blood before driving them into the snow. Fiercely territorial, Trundle hunts any fool who dares step into his lands, laughing as their lifeblood stains the tundra.
Once, Trundle served a chieftain he despised, a cowardly leader whose weakness left their warband exposed to rival trolls scattered across the icy wastes. Fearing ruin, Trundle challenged his chieftain, but the duel ended in humiliation. Yet instead of letting rage consume him, Trundle turned to wit.
Thinking quickly, he spun a tale of old troll kings who wielded weapons of immense power, relics that marked their right to rule. It was a lie, a story born in that very moment, but Trundle made it sound like truth. He declared that if he could find such a weapon, it would prove his claim as the rightful leader of the tribe. The trolls, half-amused and half-convinced, agreed, certain that his boast would lead him to his death.
Amid jeers and laughter, Trundle left the camp, his mind sharp and his heart set, for strength alone would not win him a crown, but cunning just might.
Alone but undeterred, Trundle journeyed deep into the frozen desolation ruled by the Ice Witch, where few dared to tread. Amid ancient ruins and treacherous sorcery, he sought the legendary weapon that would give truth to his lie and make him king. He crushed the Witch's monstrous sentinels, shattered barriers of dark ice, and evaded enchantments meant to twist intruders into statues of frost. Yet, for all his effort, no treasure matched the power he had boasted of.
Then, buried beneath layers of enchanted ice, he found it, a colossal club hewn from True Ice, its surface gleaming with a chill that pierced even his troll hide. The moment his hand wrapped around it, cold power coursed through him like a living thing. But before he could flee, the Ice Witch herself emerged, her wrath echoing across the cavern. Her magic rose like a storm, and for a heartbeat, Trundle thought his tale would end there.
Yet cunning served him once more. With a sly grin, he offered her a bargain, one troll slain meant nothing, but a troll army could serve her will. Amused and intrigued, the Ice Witch stayed her hand, and Trundle walked free, weapon in grasp and deceit as his ally.
When he returned to his warband, the sight of the True Ice club silenced all doubt. He named it Boneshiver and approached his chieftain with mock reverence before smashing the weapon down, ending the old ruler's reign in a single frozen blow. Standing amid the stunned trolls, Trundle declared that there would be no more chieftains, only a Troll King, before whom all would kneel.
As his kin roared in unity, their laughter turned to war cries. Under the rule of their cunning and brutal king, the trolls of the Freljord marched forth, their era of conquest beginning in a storm of ice and blood.
Though crowned by deceit and ice, Trundle's rule did not go unchallenged. The trolls of the Freljord were fierce but divided, and keeping them united beneath one banner demanded more than strength, it required fear. Trundle ruled through cunning and spectacle, often freezing those who defied him and shattering them before the tribe as reminders of his power. Yet he was no mere brute. In secret, he sought ways to expand trollkind's dominion beyond the mountains, into lands held by mortals who had long dismissed trolls as mindless beasts.
His ambitions grew with each victory. Whispers tell that Trundle began forging his own legends, claiming descent from the ancient Iceborn, those blessed by the primal frost itself. Some say he delved deeper into Lissandra's forbidden magic, learning to twist the very ice around him, shaping the frozen earth to his will. Whether truth or tale, the tundra itself seemed to bend beneath his steps.
Still, in a land where every alliance is carved from lies and every ruler is marked for betrayal, even the Troll King walks on cracking ice. His pact with Lissandra remains uneasy, his enemies many, and his hunger for dominion endless. Yet so long as the cold wind howls across the north, the laughter of Trundle, the King of Trolls, echoes with it.
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Trundle's reign as Troll King brought him into the tangled web of Freljord's powers, where strength, deceit, and ancient magic clashed beneath endless snow.
Ryze, the ancient mage burdened with the task of sealing the World Runes, once crossed paths with the Troll King. Their meeting was anything but peaceful. When Ryze's search led him into troll territory, Trundle and his kin rose against him, their icy weapons clashing with the crackling power of arcane runes. Though Ryze survived, the encounter left the land scarred, a testament to the destructive force of both troll and mage.
To the south, the Avarosan, led by Ashe, became bitter enemies of Trundle's kind. In the wars of the Freljord, the trolls clashed repeatedly with her warriors, and the legends tell that many Avarosan fell beneath Boneshiver's chill strikes. The losses ran deep, and Ashe came to see the trolls not as mere rivals, but as a threat that had to be erased from the tundra altogether.
Thus, alliances and rivalries carved their mark upon Trundle's rule, his kingdom of frost forever balanced between the promises of witches and the vengeance of queens.
Closing Words
And so the Troll King rules still, cunning, brutal, and bound to the frost. If you've enjoyed this tale, lore-lovers, don't forget to like, share, and subscribe. Join our Discord and be part of the cozy campfire where stories come alive, and legends never die.
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