The troll sleighs on and there creeping on the horizon is another one of his kind. On the ground is a lock of hair, our knight he does find!
Golden locks delved in mud
The troll giggles on the horizon and his teeth he does grind. There may be more of this maiden yet to find....
The troll's laughter coagulates in the wind.
He wonders of the mercy that he had shown
As the laughter heckles him from the wind across the valley its blown
The noise crackles in his ears, He trots on with his loyal steed. Only to worry of the troll and his dark dastardly deed
For many hours he wanders on, then he finds aside the river a witch trial. He opens his visor and speaks of judgement as a wrongdoing his anger ferments and his blade goes on to defile.