The Troll's Hole

[mjc0609]

This tale again brings us to the swamps of Innothule. Little Gukab grew quickly, as most trolls do. By three months he was stalking; by five, he bashed his first Froglok; and by nine months he was enrolled in Grobb's School for the Wretched, where endeavoring young trolls might gain the skills they needed to crush the competition and strike fear into the hearts and souls of the innocent.


Gukab took to his lessons well, but was somewhat of a recluse. Often, his peers could be found in the swamps playing Half-Bash, an energetic game that involved the tossing and catching of halfling-parts and the scoring of goals with the same. While Gukab was a good player, he was always chosen last. No one wanted to team up with purple eyes. He was similarly never invited to clan bashes (which were parties that involved showing affection for one another by breaking halfing-parts in fellowship). No one wanted to socialize with a troll that had purple eyes. It just wasn’t natural. Purple was pretty, after all, and anything pretty generally made trolls vomit. So Gukab stayed to himself for the first months of his life.


One day while the spawn-lings were playing a rousing game of Half-Bash, Gukab sat on the side-lines, reading a scroll on raise corpse (apparently corpses had uses beyond eating). Occasionally, Gukab looked up from his work with his delicate lavender eyes and saw his peers wrestling eachother in the mud and laughing with guttural grunts. Gukab wondered briefly what it must be like… to have one’s face smashed into a tree in sport or to have ones foot crushed in play.


As he returned to his study, Gukab felt that familiar sensation he had been feeling since he was with his litter feeding off his mother’s utters. It was a feeling of emptiness: similar to hunger, except it could not be hunger because he had had a large breakfast and each of his seven stomachs were currently full. He decided then and there that he simply had to make this feeling go away.


First, he chose to solve his problem as most trolls do, by eating. He hadn’t thought it could be hunger, but who knew? Maybe he had thirteen stomachs instead of seven. So he ate. He ate frogloks legs, snack scales (for ruffage!), kobold breast meat, halfling-parts (of course), fire beetle eyes, shin lord biscuits, Geerlok Hypermodulating Lubricant (whatever that was), five sheep, two cows, a glass of milk, and a single carrot (because vegetables are an important part of a balanced diet). After all that eating, Gukab was convinced of two things. As he vomited, he determined that he did not have thirteen stomachs, but only seven. He also confirmed that this feeling of emptiness was not hunger.


Second, he figured that if eating did not fill the void, then drinking must. After all, and this is a well-known fact, trolls are 98% water. So he drank. He dipped his muzzle fiercely into the swamp and began to take in gallon upon gallon of water. After awhile, he grew bored of that and turned to liquor. Ogre Swill to be exact. Lots and lots of it. After all that drinking, Gukab was convinced of two things. As he vomited, he realized that an alcohol tolerance of 200 meant nothing. He also concluded that this feeling of emptiness was not thirst.


Third, he decided that if eating and drinking did not fill the void, then perhaps crushing might. He had noticed soldiers coming back from raids got lots of attention from other trolls. Feasts were thrown in their honor and parades were organized to commemorate their victories. Those trolls never seemed to be alone. And didn’t Gukab’s father, Zpak, win the right to tup his mother, Drudek, upon return from a glorious battle? So Gukab began to train to become a fierce warrior. He trained under the mighty Zpak. His eyes turned a menacing color of plum and he challenged troll after troll to a duel and won bout after bout.


When he had defeated every troll in combat save for the mighty Zpak, he grabbed his rusty two-handed sword (he preferred rusty, because if his strike did not kill his victim, the tetanus infection surely would) and ran to Guk. He roared, “All you who are about to die, I crush you.” FROOOAAAAK! He crushed everything in his path. He crushed the neophytes, the guards, the tuk warriors. He sliced the spiders, the crocodiles, another Geerlock Hypermodulating Lubricant (whatever that was). And finally he slaughtered the undead frogloks (after feasting on their rotten flesh of course) and killed the mighty Shin Lord. He cut off the head of this last one (assuming it has a head), placed it on the blade of his two-handed sword, and strutted back to Grobb, victorious.


Grobb was uproarious. The man-trolls slapped Gukab on the blubber to congratulate him. The she-trolls offered to engage in the mysterious spawning ritual with him. Wise trolls told stories of his exploits. Musical trolls sang of his triumphs. In all, there was feasting and merriment to be had for twenty seven and a half days. Gukab realized in day five of the festivities that his feeling of emptiness went away. He was an important troll now. He was a celebrity.


Unfortunately, the merriment came to an end, as merriment always does. And the trolls went back to their normal routine: farming Halflings, attending clan bashes, or playing Half-bash. As before, he was always chosen last for Half-bash and was never invited to the clan bashes. (He was always permitted to help farm Halflings, though, after all another pair of hooves makes for lighter work). Before long, that feeling of emptiness returned. Gukab’s delicate lavender doe-eyes began to shimmer like precious baubles and he began to shed a crocodile tear. Gukab cried. He cried because he did not have thirteen stomachs; he cried because 200 alcohol tolerance is useless; but most of all, he cried because all of the glory of Grobb could not make his feeling of emptiness go away. After all of that training, after all of the friendly pats on the blubber by the man-trolls and after all the spawning with the she-trolls, Gukab was convinced of two things. As he vomited, he realized that fame was fleeting. He also determined that this vacuous feeling in his gullet could not be filled with glory. Crush glory.


Breka, who lived under the bridge by the warrior’s guild in Grobb, noticed Gukab sobbing. She motioned for him to approach. Breka was known as the town witch. Most people avoided her because she was rumored to have the power to see the future. But what did Gukab care if he was seen with her? He was shunned anyway. “Why do you weep, Meatling?” she asked.


“I weep, wench, because I have an empty feeling in me that won’t go away with eating, drinking, and crushing.”


“Let me consult the bones. To make this cantrip work, I will need the contents from your fourth stomach, which of course is the stomach of divination,” she chuckled.


Gukab gave a mighty heave. The contents of his stomach began to swish around like the sound of a crashing wave. He lifted his right leg and with incredible and considerable pain passed the contents of his fourth stomach through his troll-colon and onto Breka’s divination bones.


“Ah, perfect,” she said as she savored the musk and stole a little taste. The bones began to glow an eerie green light. “Oh yes, ah! Oh….” She began.


“I see… that the substance you need to fill your hole… This substance is what the humans call ‘luv.’” She looked up from her bones and musk. “Go. You must find this… luv and bring some back to me so I can make a potion.” Stealing another taste of the musk, she continued “this substance known as luv will fill your emptiness.”


So the troll thanked the witch, told her she could keep the musk, and began on a journey to find this mysterious substance that promised to make him whole. But that… is another story.

[Rheyn]

Very nice, Gmab...

Learned a lil bit about Gukab...and troll nastiness.

Thanks for sharing.