The throne room of King Levuel was a splendid hall, placed far up in the palace so that only the most exclusive of Levuel's guests would every lay eyes on its many splendors. There, one could see marble statues of the Lord god Beation, gaze upon tapestries woven centuries ago, and then, if they were very sharp, they may even realize that almost all of the things in the room were made of gold. Often, Levuel would hold splendid feast, with meats, fruits, and fish from as far away as Arbi or, if he was feeling very charitable, he would even include that sweet drink from the Inaros and or even some Garmarian sweets. At the height of the banquet, Levuel would rise from his throne and give a speech, much as its new occupant was doing now.
"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" He belched.
The other occupants let out a wild cheer, hoisting up their weapons and food. Some of them even had the manners to clean up using one of those "Panze fingz" on the wall. Others, in attempting to make some fun, used some of those "Stadnin' ston fingz" to sharpen (or dull) their drunken hacking skills. Even more of them were hacking up the furniture in the room, in an attempt to make a bigger fire, while others were stamping there feet (or skulls) loudly to the melodious tones of da Def Leaperz. Through the midst of all this, human slaves and Haflan servants darted around serving all kinds of drinks and, often painful, entertainment.
One such luckless Haflan was currently serving the Troll in the throne.
"Yer drink, sur," he squeled.
The Troll looked at the Haflen in disgusted shock.
"I dedn't ordur no drink!" He shouted.
The Haflen privately shook his head, "Ya order'd a Rad rum, sur."
"No I- ohh, lookatdat. W'O AR YA?"
"I brought yer rad rum, sur," The Haflen said.
"Wat took ya, ya Panze eatin' squish zogger!"
With that, the Troll had taken the drink, and was about to drink it, when he started eyeing it.
"'ow don't I no dat ya dedn't poezen dis!" He shouted. "Ya dink it furst!"
So the Haflen did take a sip from it, and was just about to say how tasty it was, when he realised he was headed for a new course in life: namely, the stairs.
"WHY DA ZOGG, DID YA ZOGGIN' DRINK ME RAD RUM!" He bellowed, which roused much laughter from the assembled Trolls.
He then noticed another Troll rushing up the stairs, without even so much as a chuckle at the Haflen he had passed.
"Wat da zogg do ya want ya panze!" He shouted.
It took a few seconds of incomprehensible gibberish before he finally said, "WE GOT NEW NABERZ!"
The Werchef gasped, "Did dey bring pie!"
"No," he said, "deyz broat lotz an' lotz o' sharp pointa metal fingz wi-"
"'OW DARE DEY NOT BRING ME- ohhhhhhhhhh pert-PIE!" The Werchef shouted.
He then stood up on the throne, cupped his hands over his mouth, and bellowed, "HAXOR!"
In a moment, a 'atet as large as most people came flying through the air and into its owners arms. And chest. And his body as a whole. In fact, he flew back into the throne and left a large imprint on the wall behind it. Rather than die, as any normal human ,or Troll for that matter, would have done, he simply stood up and screamed:
"FLAM WER!"
He continued screaming as he raced across the hall and out through the door. He only realized that he had gone through a window AFTER he had landed. Luckily, he had managed to land on a filled in section of moat, and as such, his fall was broken up by sharp rocks and bits of bone and metal. The Werchef stood up, brushed himself off, and pointed at the one guy in the large mob of ohmans who was wearing the most gold.
"Why'd ya trip me!" He demanded.
At first, the ohman was to stunned to do anything (most people don't survive an eighty foot drop onto rocks), but, the fact that he had said that he was being blamed for that, snapped him out of his shock.
"You vile pig," he said, "I would never shove anyone out of a window, even a-"
"'ho da Zog are ya, ya Panze!" the Troll interrupted, gathering some laughter from his Trolls on the walls (who also shared in the humans shock).
The man was so angry at being interrupted and insulted by a Troll, that he said, "I am Prince Delpeha Levuel, the true owner of this castle, to which you and your brutish companions have defiled. I bring with me an army of ten thousand of Vissaria's finest warriors and also a hundred of our finest preachers, so that we may destroy you in the Holy name of our Lord god Beati-"
It was then that he, and everyone else, became aware that the Werchef was snoring, LOUDLY.
"What!" Prince Levuel shouted, "don't you realise the severity of the situation you are-"
"JA' MAKIN' ME BORD!" He interrupted.
"What!" Prince Levuel demanded
"JA' MAKIN' ME ANGRE!"
Then, after much thought, he added, "Ja' makin' me 'ungre." And started looking around for something to eat.
"That's it!" Prince Levuel shouted.
He turned to his trusted friend Gustev, and pointed a finger at the Troll, shouting, "Kill that abomination."
"Yes m'lord," Gustev said, before he lowered his visor.
He then lifted his lance in the air, and said, "Knight of Kealmar, Charge!"
In moments, a hundred knights were galloping full tilt at the Troll, a little overkill, but necessary for the insolence this Troll had shown. The Troll, had noticed this, and was staring at them, much as a simpleton would a torch.
"So," a voice behind the Troll said, "You, gonna dance boy? Make those knights your rag time toys? Take their steel, bend their will, go in for the one-two kill?"
The Troll smiled, "Wat do ya fink, Gate git!"
When the knights were about two yards away, the Troll launched himself at them, with an insane grin on his face and profanity not fit for Hellspout, which caused even the older among the knights to gape in horror. To call what he did to those knights anything less than a complete massacre, would be an insult. By the time the he was finished, he was surrounded in a quagmire of blood and guts, and was already turned towards the Prince.
"YER MINE YA PANZE GIT ZOGGIN' SQUISHE FONDLA'!" He laughed.
Prince Levuel took several hurried steps back, pointing a trembling finger at the Troll, shouting, "Shoot it! Shoot the bloody monster!"
A thousand arrows flew across the sky, all pointed at the monster. Rather than run, as even the thickest of Cyclopses would have done, he simply starred at the arrows giggling to himself. He then took in a large breath, and bellowed:
"HAX!"
The arrows landed, but all of them were in several pieces now, and simply fell as a light hail. Before they had time to fire again, the Troll was already among them, with has axe swirling in gory arcs while his profanity grew to a point at which even the most sinful among them thought he was going to far. In no time at all, the Troll had hacked his way through all the humans between him and Prince Levuel. Rather than run, Levuel decided that he had had enough of the Troll's antics and had drawn his sword, shouting:
"I am Prince Delpeha Levuel, now feel the wrath of my blade!"
He never felt his sword arm leave his body, as the Troll didn't let him live that long. Prince Levuel had been thrown on his back. The last thing he heard and saw was the Troll.
"I IZ TROLZOR!" he laughed, "NOW FEAL MI AZZ!"
And with that, Trolzor dropped all his weight on the Prince's head.
"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" He belched.
The other occupants let out a wild cheer, hoisting up their weapons and food. Some of them even had the manners to clean up using one of those "Panze fingz" on the wall. Others, in attempting to make some fun, used some of those "Stadnin' ston fingz" to sharpen (or dull) their drunken hacking skills. Even more of them were hacking up the furniture in the room, in an attempt to make a bigger fire, while others were stamping there feet (or skulls) loudly to the melodious tones of da Def Leaperz. Through the midst of all this, human slaves and Haflan servants darted around serving all kinds of drinks and, often painful, entertainment.
One such luckless Haflan was currently serving the Troll in the throne.
"Yer drink, sur," he squeled.
The Troll looked at the Haflen in disgusted shock.
"I dedn't ordur no drink!" He shouted.
The Haflen privately shook his head, "Ya order'd a Rad rum, sur."
"No I- ohh, lookatdat. W'O AR YA?"
"I brought yer rad rum, sur," The Haflen said.
"Wat took ya, ya Panze eatin' squish zogger!"
With that, the Troll had taken the drink, and was about to drink it, when he started eyeing it.
"'ow don't I no dat ya dedn't poezen dis!" He shouted. "Ya dink it furst!"
So the Haflen did take a sip from it, and was just about to say how tasty it was, when he realised he was headed for a new course in life: namely, the stairs.
"WHY DA ZOGG, DID YA ZOGGIN' DRINK ME RAD RUM!" He bellowed, which roused much laughter from the assembled Trolls.
He then noticed another Troll rushing up the stairs, without even so much as a chuckle at the Haflen he had passed.
"Wat da zogg do ya want ya panze!" He shouted.
It took a few seconds of incomprehensible gibberish before he finally said, "WE GOT NEW NABERZ!"
The Werchef gasped, "Did dey bring pie!"
"No," he said, "deyz broat lotz an' lotz o' sharp pointa metal fingz wi-"
"'OW DARE DEY NOT BRING ME- ohhhhhhhhhh pert-PIE!" The Werchef shouted.
He then stood up on the throne, cupped his hands over his mouth, and bellowed, "HAXOR!"
In a moment, a 'atet as large as most people came flying through the air and into its owners arms. And chest. And his body as a whole. In fact, he flew back into the throne and left a large imprint on the wall behind it. Rather than die, as any normal human ,or Troll for that matter, would have done, he simply stood up and screamed:
"FLAM WER!"
He continued screaming as he raced across the hall and out through the door. He only realized that he had gone through a window AFTER he had landed. Luckily, he had managed to land on a filled in section of moat, and as such, his fall was broken up by sharp rocks and bits of bone and metal. The Werchef stood up, brushed himself off, and pointed at the one guy in the large mob of ohmans who was wearing the most gold.
"Why'd ya trip me!" He demanded.
At first, the ohman was to stunned to do anything (most people don't survive an eighty foot drop onto rocks), but, the fact that he had said that he was being blamed for that, snapped him out of his shock.
"You vile pig," he said, "I would never shove anyone out of a window, even a-"
"'ho da Zog are ya, ya Panze!" the Troll interrupted, gathering some laughter from his Trolls on the walls (who also shared in the humans shock).
The man was so angry at being interrupted and insulted by a Troll, that he said, "I am Prince Delpeha Levuel, the true owner of this castle, to which you and your brutish companions have defiled. I bring with me an army of ten thousand of Vissaria's finest warriors and also a hundred of our finest preachers, so that we may destroy you in the Holy name of our Lord god Beati-"
It was then that he, and everyone else, became aware that the Werchef was snoring, LOUDLY.
"What!" Prince Levuel shouted, "don't you realise the severity of the situation you are-"
"JA' MAKIN' ME BORD!" He interrupted.
"What!" Prince Levuel demanded
"JA' MAKIN' ME ANGRE!"
Then, after much thought, he added, "Ja' makin' me 'ungre." And started looking around for something to eat.
"That's it!" Prince Levuel shouted.
He turned to his trusted friend Gustev, and pointed a finger at the Troll, shouting, "Kill that abomination."
"Yes m'lord," Gustev said, before he lowered his visor.
He then lifted his lance in the air, and said, "Knight of Kealmar, Charge!"
In moments, a hundred knights were galloping full tilt at the Troll, a little overkill, but necessary for the insolence this Troll had shown. The Troll, had noticed this, and was staring at them, much as a simpleton would a torch.
"So," a voice behind the Troll said, "You, gonna dance boy? Make those knights your rag time toys? Take their steel, bend their will, go in for the one-two kill?"
The Troll smiled, "Wat do ya fink, Gate git!"
When the knights were about two yards away, the Troll launched himself at them, with an insane grin on his face and profanity not fit for Hellspout, which caused even the older among the knights to gape in horror. To call what he did to those knights anything less than a complete massacre, would be an insult. By the time the he was finished, he was surrounded in a quagmire of blood and guts, and was already turned towards the Prince.
"YER MINE YA PANZE GIT ZOGGIN' SQUISHE FONDLA'!" He laughed.
Prince Levuel took several hurried steps back, pointing a trembling finger at the Troll, shouting, "Shoot it! Shoot the bloody monster!"
A thousand arrows flew across the sky, all pointed at the monster. Rather than run, as even the thickest of Cyclopses would have done, he simply starred at the arrows giggling to himself. He then took in a large breath, and bellowed:
"HAX!"
The arrows landed, but all of them were in several pieces now, and simply fell as a light hail. Before they had time to fire again, the Troll was already among them, with has axe swirling in gory arcs while his profanity grew to a point at which even the most sinful among them thought he was going to far. In no time at all, the Troll had hacked his way through all the humans between him and Prince Levuel. Rather than run, Levuel decided that he had had enough of the Troll's antics and had drawn his sword, shouting:
"I am Prince Delpeha Levuel, now feel the wrath of my blade!"
He never felt his sword arm leave his body, as the Troll didn't let him live that long. Prince Levuel had been thrown on his back. The last thing he heard and saw was the Troll.
"I IZ TROLZOR!" he laughed, "NOW FEAL MI AZZ!"
And with that, Trolzor dropped all his weight on the Prince's head.
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