Gatherer, teacher, cook, medicine hag, power behind the throne
Abode’s answer to Eleanor of Aquitaine, Old Maggoty’s hand has seemingly influenced every troll kingdom under the two moons. Most of her time, though, is spent complaining: complaining about her lot, about those pesky elves, and most of all, complaining about her ne’er-do-well grandson-in-law, King Picknose. But her life is not without pleasures, and no-one comes close to her mastery of herbal lore.
Caught countless moons ago by a young Bearclaw, as she was stealing dreamberries from the bushes near the Father Tree Holt, Maggoty became a liaison in trading matters with the elves. She has never grown to like Wolfriders much, but she does respect their sense of family. When deals are struck between the tribes, you can be sure she will drive the hardest bargain.
She is no soft-hearted healer. The physical or emotional distress of her patients doesn’t cause her to flinch, and may even elicit a joyful cackle. Old Maggoty is renowned for her recipe for dreamberry wine, a potent lavender distillation that can set even the strongest-stomached elf on his pointed ear.
As good as she is at brewing up secrets in her cauldron, Maggoty is also a master at cooking up the truth. She doesn’t tolerate sloth, or foolishness, and will call it as she sees it. And if hearing it hurts, its taste is all the better. In the male-dominated troll society, her greatest power is to deflate egos. She knows that playing the game better than those who make the rules is the only way to win.
Though Old Maggoty never thought much of Picknose, it was her indolent granddaughter, Oddbit, who turned out to be the greater disappointment—despite becoming Queen, she failed to live up to the old crone’s expectations.