I am angry and I don't know what to do.
A woman comes and says that I should arm the Gem Troll. She shows me. The Gem Troll is made of gems. Rubies for the pointed hat, diamonds for arms and legs, emeralds for his vest. He is dressed and shaped like a gnome, not a troll, and is about a foot high.
"Give him the sword," she says.
The sword is mine. I look at the Gem Troll with a sort of horror and I do not want to use it. The sword will bring it to life and it will fight mercilessly and indiscriminately. I do not want to release it. Too powerful and it will do too much damage.
At least, not yet.
I wake up.
I am reading Terry Prachett's Feet of Clay... it has nothing to do with this, right? And that's the one where they decide to find a figurehead king. And that has nothing to do with the foxes guarding the henhouse, that is, Mr. T picking his cabinet....
Why arm a troll with my sword? Why not use the sword myself?