I only feel truly alive within the vast wilderness of the Northland, for it is only when I am lost within her unforgiving embrace that I find true serenity. —Horner Dees, Tracker
he Northland is a barren and inhospitable place where survival must be earned anew each day. It is also ruggedly beautiful, with snow-capped mountains crowning wild forests that open onto vast tundra. It is home to the fierce Koden, sure-footed Mountain Sheep, and large herds of Northern Deer as well as Trolls, Urdas, and a few Gnomes.
Bounded by the Upper Anar on the east and the Breakline Mountains on the west, the Northland extends from the Dragon’s Teeth Mountains around Paranor in the south to the vast waters of the Tiderace in the far north. The land between contains some of the most beautiful and deadly country in the known world.
The Charnals, the largest mountain range in the Four Lands, run from the Jannison Pass at the edge of the Dragon’s Teeth northeast to the Tiderace. The spine of the Northland, they form a forbidding barrier between the Eastland and the Northland that can only be traversed by experienced Trackers—or lucky fools. Their snow-covered peaks and vast forested valleys are home to a wide variety of life, as well as the majority of the population of the Northland. Tribes of Trolls and Urdas are scattered throughout the valleys and uplands of the range, dominated by a few larger Troll “cities,” such as Norbane, in the far north.
Beyond the Charnals to the west and extending northward to the Knife Edge Mountains lie the Streleheim Plains, a vast, lonely expanse of grassy tundra broken occasionally by tufts of dense brush and a few bushes. Herds of Northern Deer frequent these grasslands during the spring and summer months.
West of the plainland is the forbidding Kershalt Territory. Within a wild and dangerous land, the Kershalt is considered the most dangerous section. It is country that even the natives avoid. Bracketed by the Malg Swamp and the river Lethe on the east and the Kierlak Desert on the west, the Kershalt is a land of death. It was a fitting place for the Warlock Lord and his undead minions.
The Warlock Lord
The Spirit Lord, as the Trolls knew him, was not always evil. The ruler of the Skull Kingdom was originally one of the very Druids sworn to aid the lands. As a Druid, Brona had accepted the charge to reclaim what had been lost during the Great Wars. He was a brilliant and ambitious man, but he was also impatient, and soon realized that the process of recreating an entire civilization from shards of lost knowledge would be painstakingly slow, if not impossible.
Brona discovered a shortcut within a book of ancient magic hidden in Paranor. This book, the Ildatch, led him to discover powers far beyond anything the Druids had thus far managed to re-create. He began to experiment with magic and determined that it would provide the answer the Druids sought. The council attempted to dissuade him, realizing the danger of his approach, but he was reckless in his haste and was seduced by the power of the book.
In the end, Brona and his followers broke with the Druid Council and left Paranor, taking the Ildatch and its promise of limitless power. The council believed him dead. In fact, he and his followers had hidden away in the Northland. They were gradually subverted by the dark magic, which connected with the evil within them. Pawns of the book, though they did not know it, they sought world domination. In the First War of the Races, Brona managed to incite the Race of Man to attack the other Races. Man was eventually defeated, but Brona escaped to the Northland.
Brona became obsessed with the magic. It granted him power, but took away his humanity. He discovered the Druid Sleep, but used it without care to become immortal. It took away his heart and soul until in the end he had nothing but his will and the demands of the magic that sustained him. The mortal man Brona died, consumed by the dark magic. The magic reached through him, tainting the land and transforming the Skull Kingdom into a barren wasteland fit only for the dead. As Brona’s strength grew, so did the reach of the magic and its taint.
From this stronghold in the Northland, the Warlock Lord and his followers began anew their campaign for domination. They were more powerful, having taken centuries to learn more of the dark secrets of the Ildatch. This time Brona first destroyed the Druids at Paranor, so that they could not stop him again. He then conquered the Trolls and Gnomes of the Northland. They were gathered into a massive army, augmented by creatures he had conjured with the magic, and sent boring down upon the Eastland, across the Borderlands, and into the Westland. The campaign ended there when he ran up against the courage of the Westland Elves, a few Druids, and a King named Jerle Shannara who wielded a sword made from Old World steel and Druid magic.
The Sword of Shannara almost destroyed the Warlock Lord, but he managed to break the warrior king’s concentration long enough to escape to the North. His spirit hid within the Skull Mountain until he could once again begin his work. Those of his original followers that had survived rejoined him. It took five hundred years, but they gradually regained their strength and began again to build an army. It was easier to gain control of the Trolls this time, since he could prove that he was beyond the reach of mortals, a creature of the gods. His power had increased so that he no longer needed to command his armies in person, but could send his trusted Skull Bearers in his place and control all from his scrying basin. He first killed all the Elven heirs of Shannara, so that there would be no one to wield the Sword that so nearly killed him. He ordered the Sword of Shannara brought from its hiding place in Paranor, and began his campaign. The Northland Armies were sent against the Southland to drive a wedge between the more powerful armies of East and West, preventing an alliance that might defeat him again.
The last heir of Shannara, a valiant Troll, an honest thief, and the courage of the Borderland people combined to destroy his plan. The sword ended up within his dungeon, though not as he had planned. The heir to Shannara found it before Brona realized it was there. The Warlock Lord confronted him, and was destroyed within the dungeon of his own stronghold. Of course, Brona had actually died centuries before; it just took the power of the sword to make him realize the truth.
The Warlock Lord, known to the Trolls as the Spirit Lord, was originally a Druid named Brona.
After the First War of the Races, the Druid Council assigned the Northland to the Trolls. They were the only Race that could easily survive its harsh climate and difficult terrain. Many of the tribes already made their homes among the rugged peaks and valleys of the Charnal Mountains.
Unfortunately, the man secretly responsible for that war also decided to make his home within the Northland’s wilds. He guessed—correctly—that no one but Trolls would notice his kingdom in the barren Kershalt Territory. He knew the Druids, who barely suspected his existence, would never look there. The Trolls who noticed were recruited—or killed.
A Skull Bearer, one of the Warlock Lord’s servants.
Brona became known as the Spirit Lord. His kingdom, centered in the dying, broken peak called Skull Mountain, became the center of dark magic, the Skull Kingdom. The lands it encompassed slowly died and rotted. The Spirit Lord gradually subjugated the Trolls, tribe by tribe, until he had created an army. The Trolls were impressed by his magic and by his power. Many joined willingly, for promise of victory and the spoils of war. Those who refused were convinced by the power of his magic. Gnomes living in the Northern Anar quickly joined as well, realizing that they were no match for any power that could subjugate the Trolls. Together they formed the bulk of the Northland army. Almost three hundred years after the Trolls were given their own homeland, they swept out of the North on a campaign designed to capture the Four Lands for the Spirit Lord, their master.
When the Druid Brona left Paranor, a number of his followers left with him. For many years, no one knew what had happened to those people. We now know that they became his dread captains, the Skull Bearers, so named because of the silver skull pendant each wore upon his breast. The pendant was the mark of their service to the dark lord. It became their badge of rank.
Like Brona, these Druids were drawn to the magic and consumed by it until it changed them. They became corrupted creatures infused with the power of dark magic. Their shape twisted to match their souls until they no longer resembled men and were instead hunched creatures with leathery wings and claws skulking within black cloaks. Terror emanated from their bodies, affecting any mortal creature that came near them.
Usually hidden in shadows during the day, they hunted by night, feeding off the living, though they no longer needed to eat. The magic sustained them. They were in service to the Warlock Lord, sworn to him and to the magic that used him. They became his generals. Some could transform at will into the likeness of a human, to pretend to be all they had given up for the magic. Some could even sire children, though those children often carried a part of the magic within them. Most preferred the shape they had earned.
Normal weapons could not harm them; only powerful magic could kill them. When the Warlock Lord was destroyed, they faded into smoke and dust. With his death, their connection to the magic was broken. It was only the magic that sustained their lives.
The Warlock Lord chose Skull Mountain as his stronghold because of its remote, protected location, though the appearance of the mountain may have also appealed to him. The ancient peak had been worn by time and the elements until the southern face resembled a huge, menacing human skull stripped of flesh. Gaping openings to internal caverns resembled eyeholes, and the smooth top of the mountain was rounded much like a human head. The mountain itself may have been shaped by one of the cataclysms during the Great Wars, its shape worn by wind and water driven by explosive forces. It is believed that the Warlock Lord used his magic to enhance its malevolent appearance, as well as to strengthen the ancient rock to keep it from breaking further.
The interior of Skull Mountain was riddled with hundreds of caverns and winding tunnels, some bored by nature, others by magic. The caverns and tunnels extended from well below ground level, where they were primarily used for dungeons, to the single large chamber at the mountain’s apex. That chamber, the largest within the mountain, was open to the north, where a large chunk of the mountain’s exterior had cracked and fallen away long before.
The Druid Bremen, the only man known to have infiltrated the audience chamber and survived, wrote that the room was the location for one of the Warlock’s most powerful tools: his scrying basin. “In the center of the cavernous room, upon a large stone pedestal, I saw a dark basin of murky water. As I hid, cloaked with magic so that I would appear to be one with the mindless, pitiful minions that crawled through the shadows, I saw him appear, coalescing out of the mist. There was nothing left of the mortal who had been Brona. Only his darkest essence remained. The robes that outlined his form were filled with nothing but a green, malevolent mist. The hood revealed no face, just the burning red sparks where eyes should have been. He gestured to the basin—just a touch of his magic, and it cleared to reveal to him a window upon the world. He could see all within his domain—and possibly beyond—without ever leaving the protection of his mountain.”
Mutens, Servants of the Darkness
Mutens were originally created by the Warlock Lord to serve his empire. The Trolls who were forced to serve with them named them Mutens. Large, misshapen, nearly mindless creatures, they were vaguely man-shaped with great drab bodies and nearly featureless faces. Their skin had the texture of chalky putty and was rubbery to the touch. They stood upright on two legs but moved with a lumbering shuffle. They could speak, though their voices were raspy, as if they no longer worked correctly. Some legends claim they were once human but were transformed by dark magic to be servants. Others say that they were created from earth and clay and animated by magic. They served as the watchdogs for the Spirit Lord’s domain, though they did not die out immediately when he was destroyed.
The Skull Bearers and the small, black, broken creatures that Brona had enslaved to be his servants used the rest of the upper chambers. At ground level were chambers for the Mutens, the watchdogs of the kingdom. Belowground were the rows and rows of cells carved into the rock and sealed with windowless iron doors. The only entrance from the ground to the interior of the mountain was through a fissure in the side of the skull several hundred feet tall. The opening led to the tangle of caverns within the mountain. Trolls serving at the Skull usually preferred to make camp outside the mountain rather than accept a billet within the cold, dank rock.
Skull Mountain lifted out of a wide depression of barren dirt, the surface of which was broken only by a scattering of rocky hillocks and dry riverbeds. It was protected on all sides by formidable natural barriers. To the west was the Kierlak Desert, a vast wasteland, over fifty miles of sand-covered plains made deadly by the poisonous vapor from the river Lethe, which wound into its interior from the south. The invisible vapor hung over large parts of the desert, killing any creature that happened to breathe it. The furnace of the desert and the volatile vapors caused even the dead to decay in a matter of hours.
The impervious Razor Mountains protected the northern approach. Beginning five miles north of the Kierlak and continuing in an unbroken line to the edge of the Malg Swamp on the east, the craggy Razors had no passes. These jutting slabs of rock were neither the tallest nor the most rugged of the Northland mountain ranges, they were, however the most deadly. Hidden among the mountains’ cracks and crevasses lived thousands of tiny spiders, the only indigenous creature to survive the creation of the Warlock Lord’s kingdom. They nested by the thousands within the cracks in the otherwise barren rock. These Razor Mountains spiders are believed to be the most deadly spider in the known world. Their venom kills in minutes. The bare rocks of the Razors are littered with piles of bleached bones—all that remains of the tiny spiders’ victims.
To the east, the Razors end abruptly at the fetid bog of the Malg Swamp. The Malg was a poisonous sinkhole that could not be crossed by living creatures. Its shallow waters covered acres of mud and quicksand. Animals foolish enough to attempt to drink from its depths were soon trapped, though the vapors often killed them before the quicksand pulled them under.
The Malg stretched for miles to the south, eventually feeding into the river Lethe, which passed below the Knife Edge Mountains, meandering westward through the Kierlak Desert to empty into a small lake within the desert.
Panamon Creel
Panamon Creel was a flamboyant highwayman and a scoundrel. He was also one of the heroes of the War of the Warlock Lord. Born in the deep Southland, Panamon was a wild youth who preferred adventure to work. He lost his hand in an accident while still a young man, only to find that decent-paying work was particularly hard to find for a one-handed man but finding trouble was easy. Eventually he discovered he had a flair for a particular job—that of robber. He replaced his missing hand with a deadly pike tip, began dressing all in scarlet, and discovered he was too good as a highwayman to quit. After a few years, he included the lower Northland in his territories, having discovered that robbing Gnome patrols was particularly satisfying, since they usually gained their loot from raids or battle. He was a fierce and deadly fighter who could read a man’s worth in his face and took honor very seriously.
He rescued a wounded Troll named Keltset, who became his partner in crime. Together they were an unbeatable combination. They rescued Shea Ohmsford from Gnomes and ended up joining his quest to find the Sword of Shannara and destroy the Warlock Lord.
Panamon Creel, thief and hero.
After the Warlock Lord’s defeat, Panamon was believed killed when he remained behind to protect Shea’s escape from the Skull Kingdom. Amazingly, he turned up months later, alive, on Shea’s doorstep.
It is doubtful that he ever knew that it was his ancestor, Uprox Creel, who had originally forged the legendary Sword of Shannara. But the forging would have been for naught if Panamon had not made it possible for the heir of Shannara to find and use the sword as it was intended.
Beyond the Malg, the south of the Skull Kingdom was warded by the towering bulk of the Knife Edge Mountains. Jutting out of the bedrock like huge spear points thrust up from the depths, they were the tallest mountains in the entirety of the known world. Lancing thousands of feet into the Northland sky, they loomed over the rest of the kingdom, their icy summits seeming to reach beyond the sky. The only path through the Knife Edge was through a narrow, twisting canyon that led from the banks of the Lethe to the foothills at the edge of Skull Mountain. The toxic river ran along the base of the Knife Edge all the way to the Kierlak. The only way across it was by raft, though no normal raft could stand the corrosive waters of the river. The Spirit Lord’s ferryman captained a wide-bodied raft of rotted wood and rusted iron, probably reinforced with dark magic. The ferryman himself was probably a Mwellret, with scales where skin should have been.
The Northland Army
In the Second War of the Races, the Northland army was primarily built around the might of conscripted Rock Trolls. The total roster included lesser Trolls and Gnomes and was filled out by creatures summoned from the netherworld by the Warlock Lord. The generals were Skull Bearers, who commanded the Troll Maturens and the Gnome Sedts.
In the War of the Warlock Lord, the makeup of the army was similar, except that there were fewer creatures of magic and more Trolls and Gnomes. In that campaign, the main army camp covered a little over one square mile.
The Rock Trolls, considered the finest hand-to-hand fighters in the known world, wore body armor, carried shields, and tended to fight in formation to make optimal use of their numbers. Only serving as infantry units, their weapons of choice were pikes, great swords, broadswords, axes, and large maces. When in phalanx or box formation, they were nearly unstoppable, and had even been seen attacking their own troops to reach an enemy objective.
The Trolls did not use projectile weapons, but they often threw their pikes, maces, and axes with deadly accuracy. No other unit could stand against an equal unit of Rock Trolls. When the Troll war horns sounded the call to battle, an honorable death in battle was all that would stop a Troll.
Brona’s captains were called Skull Bearers because of the skull pendant they wore to signify their pact with the Warlock Lord.
The rest of the army lacked the skill and training of the Trolls but made up for that lack with the sheer weight of numbers. Gnomes served in units of archers and slingers, used to soften an enemy as well as destroy cavalry. They also served as cavalry, though they were poor horsemen, lacking the equestrian mastery evinced by the Border Legion or the Elves. Gnomes also served as Trackers (their forte), sappers, and infantry. The Gnomes within the infantry were little more than arrow fodder to fill out the lines. They fought, but with little skill and less determination. It was only fear that kept them in the lines.
Most units were completely Troll or Gnome and were commanded by a Maturen or Sedt, who answered to the Skull Bearers. There were some mixed units, especially of lesser Trolls and Gnomes, but they were almost always infantry units attached to another command.
The Gnomes also supplied the drummers. In both wars, the booming percussion of Gnome war drums served to inflame the Gnomes and intimidate the people they faced.
The only other passage into the Skull Kingdom was through the few miles of foothills where the Razors gradually dropped into the Kierlak. The area was open, but it was also a trapdoor, always under guard by Trolls and Mutens ready to close the ring behind anyone foolish enough to venture into the Spirit Lord’s domain.
During Brona’s reign, the entire region, already sparsely populated, became blighted and barren because of the dark magic concentrated at Skull Mountain. All living things within the region died or were driven away—except for those who were captured and perverted for the Spirit Lord’s pleasure. During the year of his campaign against the Borderlands, a deadly wall of mist appeared, forming another barrier around the kingdom. However, unlike the other, natural barriers, the wall of mist expanded as the Warlock Lord’s power grew. Before the fall of the Skull Kingdom, the black wall of mist reached almost to the Dragon’s Teeth at the southern edge of the Northland.
Driven by magic, the wall of mist became a shroud of darkness, clinging to all living things that passed within its influence, lulling them into a stuporous, eternal sleep from which most never awakened. Even plants withered and died from the smothering touch of the mist. It rolled slowly southward, consuming the land even as the Northland army sent before conquered it.
When the Warlock Lord was finally destroyed, the dark magic dissipated as well, causing cataclysmic reactions as the land shook off the darkness that had held it prisoner for so many centuries. The resulting quake destroyed Skull Mountain and shattered the Knife Edge Mountains, its fury reverberating all the way to distant Tyrsis, where it cracked the Bridge of Sendic.
Today the Skull Kingdom is only a name within the Kershalt Territory. The kingdom is broken. The sharp tips of the Knife Edge Mountains are now blunted, the pass between them sealed with boulders and rubble from the once-towering peaks. The Lethe River has changed course to bear around the boulders that litter the foot of the mountains, but the river no longer reeks of poison. The Kierlak is still dangerous, but desert creatures and plant life have returned. The land surrounding the Skull Kingdom is now filled with life. Hills that once were barren now bloom with hardy grasses and a few small trees. All that remains of Skull Mountain is a pile of rubble, from which the rock of one broken eye socket cants forlornly skyward. It is the only memorial for all who died within the depths of the Warlock Lord’s mountain.
Rock Trolls are the finest fighters in the Four Lands.
The damage the Warlock inflicted on the Northland went far beyond the corruption of the Kershalt Territory. The Troll Nation was conquered and subjugated to become the backbone of his army in both the Second War of the Races and the War of the Warlock Lord. As a result, most living outside the Northland regarded the Trolls as either mindless killing machines or merciless marauders intent on the destruction of the other Races. Few people knew that it was actually a brave Troll who had made the Warlock’s defeat possible, and that that Troll had given his life so that a valeman might live.
The perception of the evil Troll persisted until the War of the Forbidding, in which Trolls from the Northland joined with Dwarves and Elves to protect the Elven homeland. Led by the Maturen Amantar, the Trolls fought fiercely in the battle for Arborlon. By its end, both Dwarves and Elves had gained new respect for their Northland neighbors.
Unfortunately, the Southland did not share that respect. To most of the Race of Man, Trolls were ignorant savages. That perception remained until the War of the Shadowen, when the Rock Trolls, under the command of Axhind, allied with the Free Born against the Federation, at which point the Trolls were venerated as heroes by everyone—everyone except the Federation.
Part of the reason for the distrust, aside from the Warlock Lord’s rampages, is the fact that Trolls are reclusive, preferring to remain in their mountain strongholds in the far reaches of the Northland. They steadfastly maintain their own language and culture, rarely mixing with the other Races.
The largest and strongest of the Races, the Trolls thrive in the desolate north. They were bred for it, through brutal natural selection and mutation. Their human ancestors were the few hardy souls who survived the brunt of the apocalypse of the Great Wars. Most had been caught unprepared when the wars broke out, and had scant shelter. Many fled to the mountains, only to die in earthquakes and avalanches. Over time, the unforgiving ravages of radiation and plague shaped their genetics. Their survival skills were forged by the fire and ice of a climate in tumult, and by the desperately hungry predators who considered them prey. Most died, but those who lived gradually evolved into a new Race, a Race bred for survival against all odds—a Race that had learned to fight for the right to live while rejoicing in the glory of that battle.
The rigors of the struggle changed them. Their skin darkened and thickened until it resembled a protective layer of slightly burnt tree bark. They grew large and muscular and, at least among the males, completely hairless. They lost the smallest finger on either hand as well as most of the facial definition common among the other Races.
There are actually several different types of Trolls, but the best known are the fierce Rock Trolls of the Northland. There are a number of lesser Trolls, living far from the Northland. All are smaller than the Rock Trolls; all have been born of mutations caused by the fury of the energies released by the Great Wars. Some, like the Mwellret of the Eastland, have major differences in physical characteristics that set them apart, though most species of Northland Trolls are similar to each other in build and appearance.
Rock Trolls are the largest and most powerful members of any of the Races. The average male stands between six and a half and seven feet in height, taller than even the largest Man, and usually weighs over three hundred pounds. Born into a warrior tradition, they are considered the finest fighters in the known world. No other Race can match them for skill, strength, or ferocity in battle, though they often lack the more sophisticated tactical skills necessary for commanding armies.
The lack is not surprising considering the fact that the Trolls never fought as an army until forced into service by the Warlock Lord. They live in isolated communities centered on a single tribe, which itself has usually formed around a few core families. It was that very isolation that made it possible for Brona to conquer and subjugate most of their Race. Each tribe stood or fell alone. And alone, none of them was a match for the Warlock Lord or his magic.
Each tribe is itself as closely knit as a family unit, with the Maturen, or leader, taking the role of honored father for the tribe. The Maturen is chosen by the members of the tribe in a surprisingly democratic process. He is not necessarily the best fighter or the most powerful, but he is always the most respected and stands at the top of a complicated hierarchy that includes the shaman, lesser captains, and other positions of importance to the community.
The actual day-to-day administration of the tribe is usually handled by the women, with one woman, chosen by the tribe, serving as the tribal mother, or manager. She oversees food management, early training of children, and matters of commerce. Families within the overall “family” of the tribe are nuclear, and very close. The tribe protects its own. Any children who become orphaned are quickly adopted into another family; widowed wives are given the chance to remarry, usually the nearest unmarried male relative to their late husband, or at least taken in by his household. Tribal identity and tribal pride are very important to the Trolls. When going to battle or leaving on a journey, most Trolls wear some token to identify their tribe. This is so that all will know which tribe should be honored by their deeds of glory, and so that an enemy will know which tribe has beaten him and carry that knowledge to the Summerland with his death.
All the men within a tribe are expected to assist in its defense, though those who are skilled in crafts or shamanic arts or those who have lived to be an elder are not expected to participate in the hunt. Women are trained as warriors as well, though they do not usually participate in raids or battles unless the fighting actually reaches their home; then they will fight to the death if necessary to protect the children. It has been said that even a full-grown male Rock Troll cannot stand against the ferocity of a mother protecting her children.
Most of their battles are fought against other tribes of Trolls, or Gnomes and Urdas, and are relatively small skirmishes. To the Trolls, courage and honor are more important than life. Anyone can be born, but to live well with honor requires dedication. Young men reaching maturity often prove their worth in a rite of passage, either by being included in a raiding party or by successfully hunting one of the more dangerous predators, such as the fierce Koden. The only thing more important to a Troll than living well is to die well. For the warriors, especially among the Rock Trolls, that means an honorable death in battle. Those rare individuals who survive into old age are revered as elders and given an honored place within the tribe. When near death, it is not unusual for such elders to deliberately seek out membership in a raiding party in order to achieve their honorable death.
The Koden
The Koden, or Northland bear, is the most ferocious predator in the Charnals. Averaging fourteen feet in height when standing upright, and armed with vicious ten-inch claws, the Koden prefers the cold climate of the northern mountains and ranges throughout the Charnals. The Koden is a master of camouflage; its brown or gray coat blends in well with the rocky terrain of the upper ranges, making it easy for the animal to approach its prey. The Trolls consider the Koden a very dangerous and unpredictable animal. Its fur and claws are highly prized as symbols of valor for those Trolls who manage to kill one. Though Trolls are excellent hunters, the Koden often wins.
The spiritual health of the tribe falls to the Archeron, or shaman. This person may be man or woman, but is usually someone who has a little touch of the magic. Often the Archeron is a seer, capable of visions of foresight and telling dreams. An Archeron’s dreams are always taken very seriously by the rest of the tribe. They are believed in many cases to be communications direct from the gods. Even when the person possesses no magic at all, their word is deeply respected. The Maturen is expected to always consult the Archeron before making any major decisions that will affect the tribe as a whole.
Though their religion is primarily nature-based, they do believe, very strongly, in an afterlife, and that the actions taken within their life will directly affect their reception in world of the afterlife, or Summerland, as some refer to it. An honorable life will always be followed by a good reception in the Summerland. A dishonorable life, or the breaking of a trust, will culminate in punishment directly related to the deed, for every act has its price, and death is no barrier to the payment of that price.
The burial ritual, so important in many other cultures, is not as important to the Trolls. Among the tribes, the manner of dealing with the dead varies widely. Some are buried, some are cremated, and some are left in the wild in a place of honor. Since it is the manner of the death and the quality of the life preceding it that matter, the handling of the body is secondary.
The greatest rewards in the Summerland go to those warriors who die valiantly in battle. The Trolls believe these are granted a special place in the Great Hall of Valor or Te Ault Naull. Admittance to the Te Ault Naull in the afterlife is more important to the Trolls than life itself. The leaders within the Te Ault Naull are believed to be those accorded the special rank of Res Cru for not only dying in battle, but dying in a noble cause—though the actual definition of a noble cause is somewhat different for Trolls than for the other Races.
Great honor is accorded to those living warriors who have managed to achieve the status of Res Cru and still survive. It is believed that these rare people are already destined for the Te Ault Naull. If they are also the embodiment of all that is noble within the Troll Race, they are even more revered as the chosen of the gods themselves, destined to sit at the right hand of the Maturen of the Te Ault Naull. The Black Irix Award, greatest of the many awards among the Trolls, was created to designate these godlike individuals, so that all who meet them might honor them and gain wisdom from their example.
Trolls also have legends of Res Cru who return from the dead. One of these legends tells of a great hero who will leave the Te Ault Naull to lead the Trolls in glorious battle. Because he will return from the dead, mortals cannot kill him. It is undoubtedly this legend that Brona used to his advantage to convince the Trolls to submit to him. By claiming to have returned from the dead, he was also claiming to have been sent by the gods, as in the legend. The Trolls’ natural superstition, though much less extreme than that of the Gnomes, made them targets for the Spirit Lord’s manipulation. Of course, not all Trolls were so easily led, especially by the age of the War of the Warlock Lord, but those that did not succumb to his will by virtue of his connection with their gods were forced through more mundane methods. The rest were killed or imprisoned. The Troll nation has never completely recovered from the damage done to their population by the man who claimed to be sent from their gods.
The Black Irix
The Black Irix is the highest honor a Troll can achieve. It is awarded only to those Trolls who epitomize the highest ideals of honor, valor, courage, and integrity. A recipient is considered the chosen of the gods, the living image of everything the Troll Nation cherishes. A large black metal pendant with a cross centered in a circle, the Black Irix is only awarded rarely, as its requirements are so stringent.
The most famous recipient of the Black Irix was the Res Cru Keltset of the Malicos family. Though no one outside the Troll nation knows what he did to earn the award, his actions after receiving it are legendary.
Keltset was one of the few who dared to speak out against the Warlock Lord when he sought to control the Troll city of Norbane. Because of his resistance, the Skull Bearers were obliged to seize the city by force. They killed Keltset’s family and blamed their deaths on Dwarf raiders to inflame the populace against the Eastland. Keltset was taken prisoner and had his tongue burned out. He escaped and was rescued and befriended by Panamon Creel. Keltset and Creel aided Shea Ohmsford in his quest for the Sword of Shannara.
Even without his voice, Keltset managed to convince Trolls in the Skull Kingdom to aid the heir to Shannara to gain entrance to Skull Mountain despite the danger. They willingly followed him, enabling Shea to gain access to the sword and to achieve his objective.
The Black Irix, the Troll Nation’s highest award.
The brave Troll gave his life while ensuring Shea’s escape from the collapsing mountain. The Trolls believe that Keltset sits at the right hand of the Maturen within the Hall of Valor in the afterlife.
While populations in the rest of the Four Lands have increased, forcing the growth of cities and unification of governments, the Troll population has remained relatively small. Some of the larger tribes have a population of thousands, but the majority have only a few hundred. This is partially due to the warlike nature of the people themselves, but in greater part to the extreme damage done to the male breeding population by the ravages of the Second War of the Races and the War of the Warlock Lord. It is estimated that well over half the men of breeding age were wiped out in the Second War of the Races. The population recovered slowly, reaching almost to prewar levels just in time for the Warlock’s next attempt at world domination. The estimates for that war are lower—a little less than half the male breeding population died. These numbers are significant because of the lower fertility rate among Troll women and the fact that Trolls are monogamous and mate for life. Any damage to the breeding population is reflected almost immediately in the reduction of the birth rate. But such hardships are not unknown to the people of the Northland. They pride themselves on their ability to face any obstacle with courage and fortitude.
Most Troll cities and villages are designed to be completely self-sufficient. Trolls are primarily hunter-gatherers, but they do raise some small amount of food within each village. Most tribes maintain at least a small herd of herbivores for providing meat, milk, and hides. This herd is usually sheep or goats, though some of the more nomadic tribes manage herds of Northern Deer.
For the most part, the Trolls are a fixed tribal society, with villages and cities established in permanent locations. Many tribes have winter and summer camps, to follow the migration patterns of their prey, but each of these is itself a fixed settlement. Their settlements consist of homes built of sod and skins, as well as a few stone buildings and tents. The materials used depend on the severity of the weather in that location as well as the availability of raw materials. Most villages are built within an area with natural fortifications of some type, usually within the foothills or mountains.
All communities contain at least one forge, for smelting and casting metal. All metal weapons for the tribe are made by the tribal smiths, including sword blades, spears, axes, and pikes, as well as metal armor pieces. The forge also smelts fine metals for making jewelry. Troll craftsmen are capable of exquisite decorative metalwork, although they do not usually wear much jewelry. The pendants or jewelry they do wear tend to be highly significant of either rank or award, though unmarried women of marriageable age wear adornment to announce their availability, and married women wear theirs to announce their status as wed. Fine metalwork is exported to the Borderlands. Most are traded for manufactured materials, which are considered nonessential luxuries, or for ores from the mines in the South. Fine furs and animal products are also traded, though only when the catch surpasses the needs of the tribe. These items are traded locally first.
A community gathering place, or Moot Hall, is also an essential part of any Troll settlement or camp, though the hall is not always enclosed in a shelter in the more mobile communities. The hall is used as a meeting place for the tribe. It is also the place for ceremonial occasions such as marriages or celebrations as well as official functions such as choosing a new leader or a call for judgment.
Trolls have a fairly refined sense of justice. Within their Race, a demand to face trial or grant justice can never be refused. There are usually at least three judges for any trial, chosen from among the peers of the community. Judgment is usually fair but swift. There are no appeals, and the punishment for any serious transgression is usually death.
Since death is usually considered a constant companion to such a warlike Race, it is small wonder that music, especially the heroic ballad, is a major part of their culture. Each and every warrior is expected to know and be able to perform several of the major heroic ballads. Almost all of them laud a brave warrior and his valiant battles, usually ending in his glorious death. Some of these ballads are of mythical archetypes; others are taken from actual historic events. The best become classics and are shared with other tribes until they eventually become part of the racial culture. Such tales, whether told or sung, are used to teach history, racial and tribal pride, and an understanding of courage and honor within the Troll culture. Chanting and the use of percussion instruments, especially hide drums with wood or ceramic bases, is a common part of all rituals, ceremonies, and bardic performance. Almost all heroic ballads are designed to be accompanied by a drum, and almost all have a chorus intended to be chanted or sung by the audience.
The Death Watch
To Trolls, music—or at least the song of horns and drums—is considered important on the battlefield. Troll war horns are used to signal orders and to indicate particular changes in the order of battle. Drums are also used—though not to as great an extent as among the Gnomes—with their percussive beat helping to inflame the warriors’ courage before battle and, it is intended, intimidate the enemy.
The most chilling sound to any Troll enemy, however, is the complete silence of the Death Watch. Rarely used, the Death Watch is an announcement to an enemy that no quarter will be given during the battle. There will be no prisoners taken, and every person surviving the initial battle will be put to death.
King Balinor Buckhannah wrote of the Death Watch placed on his city during the battle for Tyrsis: “Suddenly all sound and movement within the enemy lines ceased. The entire Northland army stood at silent attention, their silence more deafening than the sounds of battle. After a long moment, a single armored warrior stepped purposely from the line, bearing a long staff with a single red pennant. He strode to the foot of the wall, then jammed the staff into the ground at the foot of the wall before turning his back on it to walk calmly back to his lines. The unnerving silence continued for a moment more before it was broken by the long, low wail of a Troll war horn. The mournful note sounded twice more, echoing eerily off the battlements before fading again into silence. The moment was broken by the sudden percussion of hundreds of drums signaling the attack.”
It was long believed that Gnomes never crossed into the Northland, remaining instead in the more hospitable Eastland. We now know that some species of Gnomes have been within the Northland since the first emergence of the Race. Most of the Gnomes live within the forests at the foothills of the Charnals, though there are probably other undiscovered tribes in more remote locations. There are even a few Gnomes who crossed the passes from the Eastland as traders or trappers and never managed to return home. Some of these Gnomes actually interbred with the Trolls to create a third Race that is neither Gnome nor Troll. They are known as Urdas.
The Urdas are tribal, as are both their founding Races, and are not found anywhere south of the Charnals. Most tribes survive within the forested valleys of the massive mountain range, leaving the heights to the Trolls. More primitive than Trolls, they are small, squat creatures with short, powerful legs and long, gnarled arms. Unlike Trolls, they have a coating of hair over much of their thickly muscled bodies, though they do have the Trolls’ blunt-featured faces as well as a Troll-like affinity for weapons. Their culture, however, is reminiscent of the more primitive types of Gnome culture.
Urdas have their own language, though it appears to be a derivation of both Troll and Gnome. Each tribe seems to have its own distinct dialect. They are exclusively hunter-gatherers and do no herding or breeding of animals. Warlike in the extreme, they constantly raid their neighbors and are known to take captives, especially those believed to have special abilities. They are quite superstitious, like most Gnomes, and recognize magic, though they do not understand it. They have an intense belief in spirits and wraiths as well as in portents and omens.
Fierce fighters, the Urdas use a combination of weapons, including darts, short spears, and their own unusually shaped razor-edged throwing blades, all of which are designed to bring down even the swiftest game. Most tribes are housed within a stockade, usually built of wood with sharpened tips. The average Urda stockade contains a cluster of small huts and open-sided shelters surrounding a central lodge, not unlike the Troll Moot Hall, at least in purpose. The lodge is constructed of notched logs and a shingled roof. Tribes living within the forest often utilize trees living inside the stockade as supports for treeways and lifts. Most stockades are built around wells or springs, and include smokehouses for curing meat from the hunt.
All Urda compounds also have a method of escape for the tribe in case of siege by an enemy. In most cases, this is a series of tunnels leading from key huts down into a main escape tunnel that emerges some distance from the stockade.
Tribal hierarchy is usually broken into several clearly defined groups, with control delegated to a council of men of mixed ages. Warrior males hold the highest level in society, with women, children, and the aged at the lowest levels.
Though the rest of the Races consider both Urdas and Trolls to be warlike barbarians, they are both quite civilized compared to the wild Northland that is home to both of them.