I am a troll with a big fucking axe. It is dripping with a thick mixture of horse and human blood. The sky is pure black, rolling unseen clouds pass slowly by. The icy wind whipping through the desolate barren mountain side cools my burning rage. My massive corded green muscles feel satisfyingly swollen and tight, jaw still clenched as I savour the bloodlust from this solitary encounter. I gaze down at the fresh iron-shelled corpse with disgust, the tremendous size of the dark liquidy crevasse running across the chest is obscene. That arrogant worm. I reach down and dig my sharp foul nails into the soft jelly like eye sockets, positioning the body so I can defile my prize. I raise my wicked axe high and bring it down with ungodly force through the knight’s thick neck, cleaving the head effortlessly. I pick it up, examine the still sneering mouth. Turning it over, I sink my large fangs deeply into the neck still gushing copious amounts of thick dark tangy red nectar. I love it, chewing and tongueing the flesh, feeling it between my teeth, slowly running down my throat. The bastard thought he could take me down, prove his worth to the other pathetic human maggots. They all die. The magnitude of the evil power corsing through my body is incomprehensible. It lends me strength and skill greater than all. No one will ever take me down.