CandyLand: The War of Desolation

[shadowseldil]

Once, long ago, before we humans ever learned of the magical place of Candyland, there was a great war that ended what many consider to be the golden age and laid waste to the most of the land. Now, understand, there were many wars in Candyland in ages past, but the great war, the war of desolation, was worse than any of the wars ever.
It began during the time when King Kandy VII reigned on the throne of Candy Castle. During his reign, the land was united and happy. Peace treaties were made, alliances were forged, and it was not uncommon to walk down Gingerbread Lane and be wished "Good morning!" a dozen times.
But unbeknownst to all, a dark shadow was waiting to bring all this to ruin.

Mikal walked slowly under the trees of the Gingerplum Forest, leading a gingerbread-horse-drawn wagon behind him. In the wagon were a number of bright, shiny peppermint axes. Ahead of him he could see smoke rising into the sky.
A few minutes later, he came into the clearing and passed beneath the gates of a town nestled quietly in the grove. Many short, hairy, green creatures walked along the main street of this seemingly small village, although Mikal knew better. He knew the Plumpatroll city extended into the woods, dispersed in such a way that strangers would not find anyone or anything unless they stumbled upon it.
Two plumpatrolls stopped the tall traveler. "What's yer business?" one said to him in it's deep, gruff voice.
"I'm bringing a load of new axes," Mikal's fluffy, nasally voice replied.
"Ah, good," said one of the guards, "We're runnin' low 'n were afraid we wouldn't make the quota for the gingians. Go on through."
Mikal did that, ducking under the city gate. It was odd to be in such a small place again. He had brought many deliveries to the plumpatrolls, but he never could get used to the small feeling of it all. Many of the younger plumpatrolls he passed stopped and stared at the veritable giant walking down their street. "Good day," Mikal wished them all with a smile.
In the town square (or more accurately, circle), Mikal met a troll waiting for him. "Mikal!" the gruff but jolly voice said, "Good to see you man." The troll came over and clapped Mikal on the thigh; it was as high as he could reach.
"Good to see you too, Kumble."
"I hope you have plenty of axes for me?"
"Two hundred pieces," Mikal said proudly, "Fine workmanship all of them."
"That I have no doubt. Ours were just getting too old to keep reforging them."
"It happens, sadly. Peppermint only lasts so long, and jawbreaker is too valuable to make into working axes."
"No matter, it gives our races a chance to trade. Speaking of, I suppose you'll be wanting your sugarplums."
"Unless you can spare some gingerbread for us?"
The troll frowned. "We can't, I'm 'fraid. We're already short on what we owe Kandy. That's why we need your axes so much."
"Well, sugar plums will be enough, then."
"Good, let's see, two hunderd axes; that'd be...sixteen hunderd plumbs."
"Sixteen hundred!" Mikal exclaimed, "It was ten plums an axe last time."
The troll frowned again, "Harvests have been poor this year, I'm 'fraid. We got nothing out of the southernmost crops for some reason. We're trying to pull things together, but we've all just hit some hard times."
"Oh," Mikal said a little disheartened.
"Eh," the troll began, "Listen, I know we've always done good business, and I don't want to disappoint all those eager children wantin' sugarplum goodies back home. Tell you what: I'll cut you eighteen hunderd, nine plums an axe."
Mikal smiled, "Thanks, Kumble."
"Merely a trifle, merely a trifle," Kumble replied, shaking his head, "You do plenty for us, I know." Kumble sketched out a note and gave it to Mikal. "Take this down to the storage houses and they'll get them plums ready while we unload the axes."
Mikal nodded, thanked Kumble again, and began down toward the storage sheds, his long strides coving the distance quickly.