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A Trolloc Tale (OTA)


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ok who hasn't wanted to play a trolloc? Have fun with this :wink:


Name: Scortch
Gender: male
Nationality: Dhai’mon trolloc of the blight.
Appearance: 8’ 2” he is of a very muscular build. With the head of a wolf like creature and a humanoid body covered in black fur. He dresses in black boots and assorted leather. He often adorns himself in whatever armour he can find that can fit him.

The putrid smell of home filled Scortch’s wolf like mussel. His muscles ached from carrying these humans all the way from the blight border. Meat was scarce in the blight, and the hoard has had to go further afield to hunt. The man things we’re hiding behind their stone walls. Afraid of the might of the trolloc but scortch and a few others found some who were not so afraid. It was always more fun when they tried to fight back. Scortch had kept three humans himself. He padded his way to his den and saw another grotesque creature waiting for him. The den was little more than a cave really but with a large nest like thing in the centre. Along the left side of the cave was things used for cooking, knives hooks and of course the cook pot. Along the right hand side of the cave though were more knives, swords and assorted armour that has been scavenged over the years. The creature waiting was Grag, Scortch’s mate.

“Scortch been gone long. Grag no like waiting.”

“Scortch brought meat. Grag cook meat” dropping the limp courses on the ground before Grag’s hoofs. She dragged them into the back of the den and began to strip the meat from the bones.

“Scortch kill too well. Not much meat left on pray.” Grag muttered, but the sound of pride came through her growl. Scortch took her all in. her black eyes, her hooked beak and her delicate hooves. She had been his mate for several weeks since Scortch killed her last one. They feasted that night on his remains.

“Scortch love Grag, Scortch wud fight Black Man for Grag.”

“Scortch boast too much. Make fire, I get pot.” As Scortch began to gather wood for a fire to boil his humans he smelt the distinctive smell of a Dha’vol. Letting out a guttural roar to rouse the other Dhai’mon. They must have heard of their successful return from their raid. Battle was always good. Battle meant more killing and more meat for the fist. Forgetting his prized humans as the blood lust filled him he drew his long black curved blade and charged. He could hear the galloping of Grag behind him as the roar of charging Dha’vol erupted in front of him.

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  • 3 months later...

Blood covered the ground of this twisted land, guttural screams echoed around the hills while new ones joined them. The fighting became more and more ferocious as the blood lust filled each and every trolloc treading on this reddened ground. Wits and restraint were replaced by only the need to kill. Even the dieing and wounded wielded what weapons they could reach lopping off hooves and hamstringing what didn’t come off. Scortch loved it. Only the steel men were as fun to fight as other trolloc. Not caring if it was friend or foe Scortch grabbed whomever was in front of him by both arms andplanted his black boot in its back and wrenched back. The limbs came off easily but the beast was not yet done. Showing his teeth he unsheathed his curved blade and drove it through the trolloc where his foot had been. Turning with his blade still in hand he swung it around him madly. Feeling it slow as it
passed through flesh and bone, only spurred him on. He would kill every last Dha'vol who dared face him. At the moment though, he killed anyone who was near. He was already one of the pack leaders but he wanted to stand under the black man by himself. He wanted first choice on the raids. Greed and bloodlust was all there was to Scortch. All Dhai'mon knew to avoid the black furred, wolf head in battle cause his blade had as much a hunger as its owner.

Lacking a foe to face Scortch surveyed his surroundings. Battle still raged but there was a peaceful circle around him, where no trolloc stood and none where recognisable by what was left. Limbs flesh and blood. That’s all there was. Hearing a roar come from the distance Scortch smiled his wolfish grin once again at the thought of more meat. Raising his sword in the air he let out the most blood-curdling roar any human or trolloc had ever heard and charged forth to meet the newcomers.

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