T
Sir Galen rode his white charger to the Stone Bridge. He drew his sword. He knew the drill. A troll would jump out, demand a riddle or a toll, and Galen would slay it.
He clattered onto the bridge. "Come out, beast!"
A troll popped its head over the railing. It wore a hard hat and a high-visibility vest.
"Oi! Keep it down!" the troll shouted. "We're pouring concrete!"
Galen lowered his sword. "What?"
"This bridge is structurally unsound," the troll said, climbing up. "The keystones are crumbling. We're reinforcing the arch."
"But... you're trolls. You eat goats."
"Goats are high in cholesterol," another troll said, consulting a blueprint. "We are civil engineers. The Union of Trolls maintains all the bridges in the kingdom."
"So... there's no toll?"
"Of course there's a toll," the first troll said. "Infrastructure isn't free. That'll be two gold coins for the crossing fee. Receipt included."
Galen paid the coins. The troll handed him a stamped ticket.
"Have a safe journey. Watch out for the pothole on mile marker 4."
Galen rode away, confused but safe. He realized that while monsters were scary, the true power of the kingdom lay in its public works department.