The grunts and shouts of Trolls rang clear over the forest, startling a flock of birds into flight, and causing me to look up sharply.

Here I thought that I was the only Troll around these parts. Groaning I get up, look at the tree in front of me, grab it, and rip it up and out of the ground, giving me a weapon that I would be able to fight with.

I start moving towards the grunts and screams, making sure to always look around me. I, unlike some of my fellow Trolls, do not believe that we are all-knowing, all-powerful, and the pinnacle of evolution. Though we do evolve, and most likely can become the pinnacle of evolution it would take quite a few killings and a dark ritual to be able to achieve that.

I hear the screams of the new race and follow. They have an interesting scream, lower-pitched then an elf’s but higher-pitched then an orc. It reminds me of how good they tasted, and my mouth starts to salivate. I'm still a bit too far away to tell exactly where they are, and so I continue making my way toward the general direction of the sounds, wondering what in the world the other Trolls are having such a hard time with. The orcish Urs were the only ones that ever gave me problems, them and the elven Bladesingers. The other race is all weak and spindly, I ate them without any trouble, I didn’t think that they even got powerful but it seemed that my fellow Trolls were having a hard time coping. My nose wrinkles, maybe the Trolls are just weaklings, I spit on the ground, weaklings don't deserve to be saved, but the Trolls might be able to give me information... After that though... We will see.

I start to move faster, moving from a casual walk to a hesitant run. The undergrowth bows before me and I start to make better time.

I find myself surprised at the strength of my feelings for the Trolls that are fighting. It is odd, how attached I feel. I've never felt this attached to anything since my mate, and she's gone now. Why would I feel the same way as I did for my mate for some random Trolls? It doesn't make sense. Maybe something to do with needing to see someone like me?

I don't like Trolls that much though. I could live my entire life without seeing another Troll and be happy about it, the only things that the Pits ever gave me are scars and hatred. Saving Trolls? The only person I would ever save is myself. No one else, especially not a bunch of Troll weaklings! That's like saving a whelp! Something no one does!

That's like helping a whelp! A headache assaults me and I almost stop, I shake it off though and continue my thoughts. Yeah, helping these Trolls is like helping a whelp! Something that you do sometimes but not often, the same thing applies here. The headache eases and then disappears going as quickly as it came.

I continue moving through the underbrush destroying trees and killing small animals that are unfortunate enough to get in my way. Continuing on I hear less of the screams and more of the grunts of Trolls, there is no way that Trolls could be losing to the weak creatures that I ate, maybe an elven war party? Or an orcish hunt? I must have been hearing thing wrong.

I’m getting close now, and the acrid smell of blood fills my nostrils, I charge on and then abruptly trip and fall…. Right onto the mangled body of what was once a Troll. The poor sucker has had his body sliced and diced, he's covered in small cuts; how does a Troll die because of a bunch of small cuts? It doesn’t make sense; Trolls are renowned for their tough hides and super high endurance and regeneration. Trolls don’t just…. Die. They especially don't die because of a couple cuts.

I clutch my tree tighter and continue, coming across another Troll body and couple bodies of the race that I ate before, they look just as frail, weak, and otherwise killable as the last walking piece of meat was. I grab the corpses and stuff them down my throat, there’s no point in letting snacks go to waste now is there?

I close in on the fighting and almost drop from shock. Three Trolls are fighting ten of the other races, and it looks like the other race is winning? Flares of fire spout from the hands of the attackers, the Trolls groan in pain as they slowly get immolated. Another attacker tries to chop at one of the Trolls with a glowing sword, scoring a glancing blow that deals more damage than it probably should’ve for a cut of such small magnitude.

I roar, and then charge out, tree club held high preparing to rain death upon the creatures that would dare to attack my kinsmen. They glance around, and I can see a few eyes widen in shock as they see me bearing down on them. One of them points and shouts something unintelligible.

[Translating…. Translation complete.]

“…smart Troll! Even smarter than the other troll we fought! It is labelled as a Troll Savant. Kill it if you can or just retreat back to the safe zone!” The creature suddenly started talking in dark speech, it seemed to be talking about me? I roar again, and bring my club down on the creature that had talked, only for a voice to shout, “[Swap]” and for a shield to appear seemingly out of nowhere and block my blow, the frown that was forming on my face quickly changes to grin as the power of my stroke splits the shield and arm underneath it in half.

I slam my foot into my opponent’s chest, crushing his body like a twig, then grunt as I feel several swords and a gout of fire splash across my back and sides. Doesn’t do much except annoy me, and I continue to whale on the guy with the shield for a little bit longer, before a roar from one of the other Trolls reminds me that I am actually in the middle of the battlefield, I kick away the broken corpse at my feet and get to work on the others.

Three of them try to attack me and the others split off into twos and attack my kinsmen. The two in front me have a swordsman, shieldman, and a fire spouter though it seems that this one spouts ice. I charge through the shieldman knocking him over despite his efforts, ignore the attack from the swordsman, and rip into the ice wielder batting his head off and then kicking his corpse away. I turn to the other two and dispatch them with ease, bashing in the shield of one and slashing my claws against the stomach of the other. I look at my claws in wonder, I didn’t realise that I was this strong.

I hear the whine of one of the Trolls and as I look over I see it keeling over a sword buried deep in its gut and coming out the side. I snarl, weakling. Trolls like that don’t deserve to be called Trolls. I shake my head and growl, what the hell is wrong with me? All Trolls deserve to live right? Their my kinsmen! No, weak Trolls deserve to live, that much at least the Bull whipped into me. Once again guilt that comes from nowhere threatens to overwhelm me, I shake it off, only for it to come on again.

My head burns, it seems that the headache has come back.

All Trolls deserve to live, they are my kin, any thoughts otherwise are stupid. I growl and charge at the two enemies that had killed my fellow kinsmen, brutally dismembering them and watching with satisfaction as blood spurts out of their weak, piddly, bodies.

I glance over at my other kinsman and see that he is having a hard time with his two opponents. I snarl, charge and bat the weaklings into the nearby trees. I continue after them and finish them ripping them into pieces, stuffing them into my mouth and swallowing them.

[Congratulations! Title Earned: Human Killer- You have killed ten humans. Damage dealt to humans increases by 5%. Humans feel that there is something…. Off about you.]

[Congratulations! Title Evolution: Human Bane=> You have not only killed ten humans; you have eaten them as well! You can sense the blood of a human from two meters away. 5% increased damage against humans. Humans can see it in your eyes, you have done more than just kill them.]

I dismiss the squiggles and lumber over to the last living Troll who was rapidly regenerating. “You okay?” I ask in dark speech.

He finishes regenerating and dropping to all fours continues to eat the corpses of our enemies. Maybe he didn’t understand me? “You okay?” I repeat but this time in Trollish.

He grunts again then continues to consume the corpses. What is up with him? I saved the brute and now he isn’t even talking to me?

“Oi! I’m talking to you!” I growl out and grab his shoulder, intending to shake him a little and make him acknowledge my presence. After all, I did pull his ass from out of the metaphorical fireplace.

He whips around and roars, baring his teeth at me. Still, he’s on all fours, what the hell is up with him? Only the Brutes go around on all fours, and even the weakest of Brutes would have been able to take the party. This guy? He could barely take two! With this in mind, I roar back, if dominance is the only language he’ll understand then dominance is the language I will talk.

He tries to rake me across the face, I bat it aside contemptuously and uppercut him. Who does he think he is? Didn’t he just see me take out the group that was whupping his behind? My blow sends him flying and smacking into the trees.

He charges me again. I smack him again.

And again he charges. I kick him in the gut.

And again he doesn’t learn his lesson. I send him flying.

Another roar and charge. I backhand him, and another tree tumbles down.

As he charges for the fifth time I decided that I’ve had enough. I sidestep his charge and kick him in the balls as hard as I can, he goes down with a whimper. I close on him and he starts to whimper louder, pathetic, that is what this is. I grab him roughly and smash him against a tree, lean in close and bare my teeth, talking in a strained whisper. “You are going to talk to me. If you don’t I’ll rip you apart. Got that?” I ignore the feelings of guilt that start to boil up, guilt is for whelps and weaklings. I left guilt behind long ago.

He doesn’t do anything except whimper. I repeat it again, looking for any sign of recognition, I see none. Not when I speak in trollish or in dark speech. Something isn’t right here, even the stupidest of whelps can speak at least one word.

This Troll? He doesn’t seem to be able to talk at all. I lay him down and immediately he tries to run away, I sweep his legs out from under him and he lands on his chin with a thump.

What the hell! He tries to run again, and again, and again. Each time being smacked down. This guy just doesn’t learn! Even the goblins wolves obey commands better than this, even the goblin wolves PUPS would be able to learn faster than this.

I growl at it, it doesn’t even deserve to be thought of as a Troll anymore. All he is a pathetic excuse for a monster. No guilt comes up after these thoughts, it seems that all of me agrees on this. If he isn’t a troll then what is he?

It goes on all fours, and starts snuffling around the bushes, kinda reminds me of the forest bears that we used to hunt back at the pit… It dawns on me then, maybe this…Thing isn’t a Troll but an animal. Unthinking, except for the urge to survive.

Disgusting. Sorrow attacks me as I remember the words that the enemy spoke. “Even smarter than the other troll we fought!” Was what it said. The only Troll that I would’ve been able to talk to, to bond with is dead.

All that’s left is this poor excuse of a parody.

I reach over, grab its neck, and twist.

The snap echoes, I toss the corpse away, let it rot. I grab a fresh tree and continue on my way. Leaving one of my own kind lying on the dirt floor of the forest.

Whatever that thing was it didn’t deserve to be called a Troll. My conflicting emotions mesh together perfectly this time.

They both agreed.

[Trait Earned: Remorseless. You don’t give a damn.]