Up: Game 3  Up: Game 3 Outline

Drunk trolls are not known for their people skills.

You hear the small group before your see them, and smell them before even that. The odor stings slightly, but your brain process it as familiar, reaching into the memories before your change a coungering the image of the green skin trolls. You are amazed that you could identify that with only the dull memory of senses in your human body. The trolls turn into the hallway, swigging bottles of some alcoholic, and from the smell would probably eat through stone. There are three in total, sporting strange black tattos, which fromt he looks of them are more like scars with coloration added. They quickly catch sight of you. It's not like a 10 foot monster is hard to miss. "Oai, what the hell is that?" says one, eyeing you through the eyes of intoxication, "Some kinda pussy cat?". "Nah, that's one of them... one of them... one of them whachamecallums." replied another, obviously the auhority on these things. "Must be a new one," said the third, slightly less drunk troll, "Hey, maybe we can have a bit of fun with it."

The three trolls, laughing with the confidence found in the bottom of a mug, swagger up to you, "Hey, fuzzy head!? What's you... you speck or anything?" A low growl escapes your throat, indicating that whicle you could not speck, you had no trouble getting the message across. "Not much more then a dog!" yelled the second Troll, "I like's dogs, I likes to skin em," It reached for it's knife, the other two chuckling, "What do ya think, a sack of gold worth in that pelt?" Said the first, "And maybe a couple more bags for the horns." Rising to your full height you growl a warning, exposing sharp meat cleaving rows of teeth. The Trolls don't seem to get the message. "And a tooth necklace as a trophy." says the second. "Whataya say furball, ready to dance?"

Written by Dream Weaver

Back to the parent page

(This page has not yet been checked by the maintainers of this site.)