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It was done. They had actually succeeded…

In front of them was a battle. No, if it was anything, it was a war; a fully-fledged war between two species, a war unlike the others before where mutual survival was possible.

An idea, that was all it had been in the mind of one, and yet it had grown and manifested in all their minds, taking root to only grow further. And here was their masterpiece in action.

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Goblin Warrior

“WARRGHH”

An ear shattering roar was howled, nothing like anything he had heard before but what followed was several echoes of the same guttural roar from the people around him.

“GRAGGHH”

Losing control of his own body, his hands began to tremble as from the other side he could hear a scream that shook him to the core. It wasn’t much louder than his brethren’s, nor was it particularly shrill but the meaning behind it was much more terrifying. After all it was a challenge to his life, a roar that meant they were able to play a game where “Game Over” meant one more life had been snuffed out. His heart rate exploded out of the graph as crowd mentality grew, the fear turning to anger and finally bloodlust…

The sounds meant nothing anymore, all his brain could register were the Trolls in front of him. Only God would know who started, only God would care as well, but the intimidation came to an end. What followed was a crazed charge, a one way ticket to the afterlife as none of the troops had any type of effective protection nor plan. Perhaps it was a blessing that the Trolls lived in the same forest as them, after all they had the same trash for protection as them.

And they met.

Legs slipping, skulls splitting and blood splattering were the formality as the now mushy mud dyed itself red.

First step: His grip over the shoddy-axe grew exponentially as he clenched it.

Second step: His legs nearly slipped as grime and co. now completely covered his lower half,  the green skin being splattered with explosions of red and flicks of brown.

Third step: His mind stopped all thought as the ugly fucker came into view, a 1.7m tall muscular monster. It was dressed completely in the mud as you could barely see the blue of its skin, though that did little to deter his eyes from the angular head which housed two protruding tusks, both crooked just like the beady yellow eyes that equally judged him.

Acting first, the troll dashed in before smashing its whole body weight into him, which was closely followed by a quick swing of its’ own makeshift axe. He hadn’t expected the troll to act so fast and was completely dumbfounded as it charged him, leaving him even more dazed than before. Nevertheless good habits prevented death as he reacted to the shiny gleam of the blade covering his view, buckling down before he fastened his arms around the troll’s waist and pushed with all his might. This time it was the troll’s turn to be surprised as it felt a truck smash into his abs, though its’ grip didn’t slip as it followed its arc downwards onto the goblin’s back.

In fact such a strike would have been harmless if it had been made in a proper fight, but this wasn’t a fight; it was a war where breathing space was limited nevertheless space to allow movement.  The goblin felt an immense pain as the axe made contact, splitting a muscle on his back. Overcoming the pain quickly due to the adrenaline, he pushed the troll down as he unfastened his arms around its waist. He pulled his arm towards the sky before feeling the warm wind. Warm wind but no axe, which he had inconspicuously dropped during his tackle of the Troll.

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Moving onto plan B, he jumped onto the felled Troll, though it was well out of its daze by then as it was already quickly moving its armed arm as obstruction to the goblin’s dive onto its body. But not quick enough as the goblin safely landed on the Troll’s body, meat shielding another axe strike with his back as his open mouth housing two large fangs bit deep into the Troll’s neck. Very deep, as he felt burning a metallic taste fill up his mouth very quick, though he instantly spewed it into the Troll’s open mouth as his brain registered the last axe wound.

Hardening his will, the goblin had barely recovered his mind as he instantly wrestled the axe out of the Troll’s twitching arms. The troll was squirming violently as it tried to clear its mouth of the bloody fluid which blocked its ability to breathe. It was met with little success as it was lying on its back, weighed down by a goblin. The goblin rose the stolen axe to the sky, with the sun watching, just as the troll fully pushed itself off the floor. The desperation was beautiful as the axe smashed into the Troll’s head, cracking through the skull to leave the axe embedded in its brain.

His subconscious must have judged him out of immediate critical danger as it slightly alleviated the adrenaline he felt, only to have the goblin cringe over the mind crushing pain. The fight he had was special, but nothing special on the battlefield, as corpses of Troll’s and Goblin’s littered the place. In fact this certain goblin was in one of the better shapes out of the survivors, as most of them had collapsed under the mutual destructions that they had called a fight.

In response, his body once again increased his adrenaline. The pain seemed to subside as the bloodlust once again grew, it was a sick feeling to say the least and yet the only feeling that made any sense in a bloody hell like this.

In hindsight, perhaps it would have been better if he had never gotten back up…

“WWRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

The roar was as primal as one could get, fully guttural and yet as loud as the sky itself crashing into the Earth. It felt like the air itself was against him as he felt the roar rob him of his balance as he staggered backwards. They were like rising suns in the background of his vision, and yet they got big so fast. They were clearly trolls, with blue skin covering the body while a pair of thick tusks imposed itself on the world through the mouth. But they weren’t trolls; the monsters were around 2.5m tall but scarier was the fact of how muscular they were. Their bodies were literal meat mountains as the behemoths’ muscles bulged outwards.

Perhaps it was pain, perhaps it was fear, perhaps someone had even stabbed him in the time he stood dazed out but his body could no longer handle the mental nor physical stress put on it. His body crumpled down, collapsing onto the troll as his back bled outwards onto it.

Some people say your life flashes in front of your eyes as you are about to die, but how that is possible when you are faced with such debilitating fear. Instead all that came out were tears, hot streams that quickly melted down his face. It wasn’t a long wait before it came down, the constant newcomers’ roars had completely broken his will to fight, though he doubted his body’s ability to move even if he wanted to. It was a big foot, a pathetic death it was to be trampled to death, but it was another thing when you were crushed to death by a single foot. It found home on his chest as it crushed downwards, easily shattering his ribcage while mushing his organs into paste before it skipped along its path. He never even saw the face of his killer, all he had seen was a foot…

The battle had taken place in a big clearing in the forest, though now it was a dump of dead bodies. To the north was the troll’s home while to the east of the clearing was the goblin’s home. To the West it was still the forest. Dark green covered all surfaces here, whether it be through leaves or moss. Barely any sunlight got through to the forest floor, meaning all the undergrowth had taken down “different” routes to other plants as most were angular and dangerous looking. The canopy, usually filled to the brim with monsters making a sundry of noises, was completely silent.

There were two reasons for this: One being the intense battle taking place. The roars, squeals and cries seemed to capture all’s attention as no noises were made. The other reason was due to the people directly below the dense canopy to the West of the clearing.

The people were not random passer-by’s, nor any kind of adventurers. Rather they were third player of the game, just they had come slightly late, although that was no mistake. To their front were two dying armies, while behind and around each of them were perfectly rested and orderly soldiers. The fate of the trolls and goblins were decided with this move, as long as no surprises would pop up…

“CrooooooOOOOO”

The battle-horn was blown...