Welcome to another adventure from the Thousand Acre Woods. A place on the edge of Trollheim deep within the mysterious NJ Pine Belt! Tales Chronicled by Christopher Jonathan Hulton...That's me! This week Angrboda falls prey to a powerful Piney Wizard, but gets the better of him in the end...

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Angrboda was ascending the Forked River Mountains, just outside of Trollheim. She just bought a boar descended from Saehrimnir, the pig they eat every night in Valhalla, from the pig farmers who moved here after they sold their land in Chatsworth to the cranberry farms. The Pineys here received their sire from Olaf, the wealthy Troll who lives under Half Moon Hill, soon after he escaped from Nyaelfsborg. He smuggled the boar up his sleeve from Norway. He always loved a good pork loin.

See, what is special about Saehrimnir is that you can kill him nightly, have a fine meal, and scratch his chin in the morrow. You could even eat his marrow!

I remember one fine Easter where I had the privilege of eating one of his kin. While on the platter, not only did he suggest the most tender and delicious portion of his loins for me, but he quoted:

Busy old fool, unruly sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through Windows, and through
Curtains call us?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons
Run.

 

He was as fine of an example ever produced by Circe. Quoting from Donne in excellent Queen's vernacular; Queens New York.

As she was beginning her ascent, Gusir was traveling by. "That is one fine pig you have there," he said admiringly. He was staring at its belly with bacon in his eyes.

"Yes, he is," she answered through her large smile. "I almost got a sow, but they run a hard bargain."

"A sow! A nice fortune could have been had from her piglets."

"Yes, for now I can play with him in the fields and eat him at night," she said, rubbing the boar's bristly chin.

"Well enjoy him, and may Frey shine on the two of you ! " As he said this, he was cutting her line and tying his own that was pulling a perfectly round log equal to the boar's weight.

Determined not to stop, Angrboda dug in her heals and bent over and did look back till the top, where she found the log.

Halfway home, she crossed General Howe's bridge on Jones Road. On the other side, she saw an old woman looking perplexed, staring into the old general's well.

"Dear, I lost my purse down there. It is holding my rent, and my lord is a harsh man…"

Angrboda agreed to shimmy down the well after she dropped her own purse on top of her clothes.

The old crone was Gusir in disguise. He was a powerful Piney trollmann. He stole her purse full of datura herbs and scattered her clothes just out of sight.

This wasn't the last day that Gusir trick her…

On Newark Avenue, almost to Edge Road in Trollheim, she was attacked by a stefnivarg. A magical fox. This fox was as big as a dire wolf, and its fram was intense.

Its high-pitched howl woke up Karl, who was sitting in a tree sleeping. He dropped his noose as the fox leapt at her. He yanked back on the rope, catching the fox, and left him tied to the tree as he climbed down..

Angrboda was quite scared as Karl just walked over and petted him behind the ears.

"What are you doing ! " she yelled.

"Stefnivarg."

"What?"

"Some wizard has captured a fox and sent its soul out against you."

"What?

"We just have to find the wizard who caught him and set him free," Karl explained as he let loose the noose. "I believe he would be willing to show us his cage."

The fox nodded and led the way.

They were brought to Gusir's cabin. Gusir was a lecherous old fool.

They planned for Angrboda to sit under the post oak in his yard. Angrboda saw him looking in his window and gave him the come-hither fingerwag as Karl sat next to her. After he tickled her chin a few times, Karl left them alone and climbed the oak.

Gusir now nuzzled in closer when he heard Karl yell, "You old fool, how dare you press the maiden on her back in front of others, in the open..." Karl scurried down from the crown of the tree. Both were perplexed since when Gusir nuzzled in, Angrboda clocked him.

Karl got between the two and said, "Strange, Gusir, you rolled down the hill; I thought you were besmirching her reputation—It must be truly a magical tree."

To find out for himself, Gusir climbed the tree. How wonderful he thought it would be for a wizard to have a magical tree!

"Now remember to climb to the very top and count to ninety ! " Yelled Karl.

While he was counting, they broke into his cabin and freed the fox.

Ever since these foxes have protected Trollheim, and their home has been called Fox Hollow.

Gusir never returned to Trollheim, but it wasn't the last they heard from him.