The troll’s voice was a deep rumble.

“Huh? You don’t sound like a monster,” Eron said

“And what pray tell does a monster sound like?” the troll sounded insulted.

“Excuse me. Apologies, assuming you aren’t one and aren’t simply trying to lull me into a false sense of security in order to better devour my precious man-flesh.”

“I might daresay that I am the one that should be concerned. Considering you flew out of the sky at considerable speed and are now,” the troll wiggled fingers in Eron’s vicinity, “giving off what seems to be a significant amount of heat from the way the snow is melting. Admittedly, I am not a native of this world… though in my defense humans on my world don’t tend to do that. The ones that do are quite rare and quite high-leveled. On the order of once in a generation and with how the privileged few tend to extend their natural lifespans above their lessers… well a generation might well span centuries. In fact with how war-like and violent you lot tends to be, I can be excused for said concern about my personal well-being. Further point, your kind recently attacked me not two days ago for the crime of simply walking down a path. The way they screamed and shot me with spells, Skills, arrows and primitive firearms,” the troll tutted, “didn’t even give me the opportunity to state my peaceful intention to, you know, walk.”

“In their defense—” Eron shook his head. “You know what. You’re right. I’m not going to make excuses for other people.”

“Politeness is as easy as an apology.”

He studied the towering monster.

Sapient. Not a monster.

A person like him… possibly.

The face was disconcertingly human-like in a way that he had never seen before in other invaders. There was a gauntness to it that suggested recent lean times. A long nose hooked slightly at the tip. Long, knife-like ears twitched nearly imperceptible as if scanning the surroundings.

He knew nothing about troll biology considering this was the first one he had seen, but it seemed to be telling the truth judging by the heartbeat.

It was also hard to see a monster when there was obvious intelligence in the eyes and bearing. Then again the fishmen and several other monstrous species were just as intelligent as humans. And if he was being honest, normal humans had the propensity to be monstrous.

The troll was wearing clothes. Finely made ones from the look of it. A kilt and a vest. Both with many pockets. And a monocle.

How had he not noticed that right away?

There was a faint glow to everything when he looked closer.

Magical.

“I can’t really apologize for something I had nothing to do with, right?”

“You have me there, good sir. I am as guilty of painting your species with as broad a brush as yours does mine,” the troll chuckled ruefully as it ran a hand over its bald head in a very human-like way. “I’ve always done my best to not be a speciesist. Speciesism is truly an odious thing. Born of ignorance. Wouldn’t the worlds be a better place if we could all simply practice a little empathy.”

“Agreed. So, what are you doing here? Aside from walking, that is.”

The troll raised a brow. “Are you the king of these lands?”

“No. We don’t really have kings.”

“Tyrants? Mageocracy? Cabals? Covens? Magical Construct Intelligensia? Gods? Demigods? Overmind?”

Eron shook his head at each one.

“Ugh… democracy?”

“Our world has never been unified enough to have one thing.”

“Oh, you mistake me for an unlearned sort. I meant for this particular region,” the troll spread its arms wide to display a truly impressive wingspan. “My world is hardly unified. Too many species vying for power, let alone the petty squabbles within my own kind,” it sighed.

“Look, uh, I don’t know if you’re friend, foe or something in between. So, I’m not going to be giving out too much information. I’m just here to make sure that you aren’t a threat… and to get the sheep,” he eyed the two goats tied to a tree a short distance away. The animals were enormous and enraged from the looks of them, “and them,” he gestured to Toothgnasher and Toothgrinder.

“Are they yours?”

“No. They belong to a friend.”

“This friend must be a fierce individual. Those two would fit right in with the Butcher Goats on my world. Just as fond of biting and goring. These specimens are much bigger though.”

The two goats were indeed as large as the largest bulls.

“In answer to your questions. Yes. You may take them. I’ve no use for them. They’re just underfoot. And I simply wish to live, unbothered for now. I had thought to make contact with the locals, but the unfortunate experience soured me on the prospect.”

“Your regeneration? Magic? Spells? Items? Or an intrinsic ability?”

“I daresay I’m not inclined to simply answer your questions. If I asked for the source of your flight and heat, would you share? I can tell you aren’t using spells or Skills. In fact, you don’t have a class and I might be willing to an exchange of information. You tell me about yourself and I do the same in reciprocity.”

“That’d be foolish of me, wouldn’t it?”

“I assure you that I mean you no harm. In fact, I mean none harm. I will only defend myself if necessary. One would think my recent display of restraint vouches for my intentions better than mere words.”

“No deal.”

“Fair enough. Then perhaps a simple introduction. Unless humans of this world dispense with social standards of proper behavior.”

“We have that. It’s just… Witches… I have it on good authority that they can do things with your true names. If they can then other magic users can. Which means any eldritch being, lesser godlings, dragons and everything else might be able to do the same.”

“Then get a charm to guard against that. Granted it is an expensive thing, but I’m sure a human of your abilities simply needs to work hard for a year or two to afford it,” the troll snorted. “I daresay you don’t fear much.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For one, you came all the way out here searching for a terrible ‘monster’ in what appears to be regular clothing. I’ve a sharp eye. You’ve no arms or armor. No magic. No class. That tells me much.”

“And your excuse for being unarmed and unarmored?”

“My intent to appear peaceful to the sapients of this world. Besides, though I’m not a true warrior, I am not without the physical gifts of my kind… and other more esoteric abilities. I’ve already bludgeoned and throttled a few corrupted specimens of your natural fauna. I’ve yet to encounter anything that required more. Ah,” the troll’s smile revealed teeth that eerily resembled a human’s, just larger, “you’ve been studying me intently. Your assessments.”

“Same as what I’ve already been told.”

“Those belligerent fellows that attacked me? Or those two younglings that observed me for quite a length of time?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Both.”

“See. At every encounter I’ve done all I can to avoid provocation.”

“All part of your plan?”

The troll shook his head ruefully. “Very well. A proper introduction. Freely given, no exchange asked for. I am Gruntlerionadras, Third Prince of… bla bla bla. It’s a very long and pretentious thing. My name suffices.”

“Okay, Gruntlerionadras. I go by,” Eron cleared his throat, “Relentless.”

The Troll’s laugh was like the grinding of two great boulders deep in the earth. “Oh my… you’re one of those,” it raised a brow.

“Witches…”

“Yes, of course, whatever helps you rest at night,” the troll idly waved a hand. Before suddenly stopping and peering at Eron. “Humans of this world do that, right?”

“Yeah, normally, but we can rest whenever we feel like it.”

“Good, good. You can never be sure what sorts of differences emerge across worlds.”

“How many worlds have you been to?”

“Counting this one?”

“Yeah.”

“Two.”

“I see…”

“How many have you been on?” the troll challenged.

“One.”

“Hmmph.”

“Alright, so, don’t take this the wrong way…”

“In my experience that is like saying ‘I don’t intend to offend’. Very rarely does the speaker fail to do just that.”

“Look, you’re the first—” he hesitated then sighed. “You’re the first troll… is that the right word? I’ve spoken to. The only reason we’re communicating is the Universal Translation System and I know it’s not perfect.”

“Understandable. I’m speaking my language and I’m certain you’re speaking yours. But yes, the word you just used to refer to my species is the same in mine.”

“Likewise with your word for human. Next question. What are you? I mean… is gender a thing for you?”

The Troll raised a brow in a very human-like manner. “Do you see a pair of nursing glands on my chest?”

“Well, you’re wearing a vest…”

“Are you asking me to disrobe?”

“Please don’t.”

Gruntlerionadras snorted. “Well, it would be no concern of mine since I am a male, like you.”

“Bit unfair. You already know about humans.”

“True enough. Fair warning though, if you ever encounter a female of my species… maintain eye contact. Staring is frowned upon and they will vigorously defend the ownership of their physical form.”

“Noted. Next question.”

“You are asking a lot without reciprocity.”

“I’m determining if you are a threat,” he said flatly.

“And you’re the sort of man that deals with threats,” Gruntlerionadras nodded levelly. “Yes, I can see that. You might find that I’m not an easy fight, but go ahead. In the interest of my, hopefully, peaceful existence on your world, continue.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’ve already told you. A peaceful existence is all I aim for. No more, no less.”

“What led to that?”

Gruntlerionadras mulled it over for what felt like a long time.

The sheep continued to mill about him in apparent ease as they dug through the snow for what forage they could find.

The two giant goats were less sanguine. They struggled against their bindings and glared rage-filled daggers at the massive troll.

“You must understand my reluctance to share my tale. It is a difficult thing.”

“I won’t judge. If you aren’t a threat, as you say, then you’ve nothing to fear from me. I might even be able to help you find that peaceful life and get you an apology or a dozen.”

“Shameful exile,” Gruntlerionadras sighed. “Though, aren’t they all?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Maybe the people exiling you are evil.”

“Ah, but what is evil if not selfishness taken to extremes?” Gruntlerionadras mused. “Excuse my philosophical ramblings. Indeed, one of the marks against me. To think my siblings would use it against me to such cutting effect.”

“Power struggle, then? Did your father,” he narrowed his eyes, “or mother die without designating an heir? Or maybe they did, but a power hungry brother or sister didn’t like that and you got caught up in it?” he probed.

Gruntlerionadras wagged a finger. “That information is too important to give freely when you aren’t willing to be as forthcoming as I already have.”

“Does your,” he waved at the tree branch idly resting in the Troll’s hand, “vegetarianism… is it the norm? Or not?”

Gruntlerionadras grimaced. “I don’t like to judge others for their differing ways and I try, I truly do… but… and I don’t mean to offend,” he gave a wry smile.

“You’re all vegetarian?”

“Most. Only the…” the Troll cleared his throat with an engine-like rumble, “backwards looking sorts partake of the meat from sentient creatures, such as these lovely and annoying things,” he gestured to the sheep. “There’s always been a movement to return to the old ways. As in multiple millennia ago when our kind ruled our world. A time of savagery best left forgotten.”

“So… no offense, but I have to ask. You would never eat a person.”

The Troll gasped. “I’d have words with you if I didn’t know you say such a thing out of ignorance. Kindly desist repeating that question, good sir.”

“I won’t. Just expect a lot of that from the rest of my people. We’re not exactly paragons when it comes to the willingness to understand and accept relatively minor differences in skin tone and beliefs.”

“Yes, yes,” the Troll waved a hand, “small slights and small bigotries exist amongst my species as well. The humans on my world also fight over the most ridiculous things. Does their holy prophet speak through the purple gemstone or the yellow one? That one triggered the Holy Wars of 9069-1025. Even spilled over into the southwestern boundaries of our lands. It was only stopped when a mixed-species party led by the Great Hero, Sanandras discovered that the voice in both gemstones belonged to an aberrant godling harvesting power from all the death and suffering. The story of that thing being put down spans seven epics.”

Eron blinked at that for several seconds.

“Then… you’re not all gray-blue?”

The Troll rolled his eyes. “Look to your own species for the answer. You’re the only brown-skinned one I’ve encountered so far. The rest have been rather pinkish.”

“Alright, so, circling back to what you intend.”

The Troll shrugged. “Peace is what I want and perhaps eventually cordial relations with the locals and you. I’m not so naive as to have the expectation of peace from this entire world. Monsters and such, you know. Not to mention I’m certain that my hide is worth something in Universal Points thanks to the spires, what with their purpose.”

“Right. Driving conflict.”

“I am heartened to see that you’re aware of that,” the Troll nodded. “Suffice to say. I do not wish to seek out conflict, but I suppose I will defend myself if necessary.”

“And you aren’t a spy for your kingdom?”

“No.”

The heartbeat remained steady.

Eron thought the Troll told the truth.

“Okay. How about this… I’ll introduce you to the people they belong to,” he gestured toward the sheep. “They won’t attack if you don’t. Anything more than that will be up to you and them. My one warning is that if you plan betrayal I will kill you.”

“Rather dark, but I appreciate the forthrightness. I strike an accord with you. I pledge to do no harm to your people, er, specifically the ones that own these sheep, unless they first do harm,” Gruntlerionadras placed his arm on his chest.

“One last question. Do you have a class?”

“That would be telling. I believe I’ve shared more about myself than you have. From this point on I require reciprocity. I simply must have balance.”

“Fair enough,” he regarded the sheep and the two enraged wargoats. “I suppose the sheep will stick close to you.”

“Yes, that seems to be the case. I imagine they sense safety in my presence considering all of the hungry mouths surrounding us earlier. Although,” the Troll’s ears twitched, “the predators seemed to have cleared out upon your arrival.”

“It tends to happen. I suppose I’ll have to grab the goats.”

“I would be delighted. They’ve already put holes in my favorite skirt and needless to say that is irreplaceable for the foreseeable future.”

“Then, if you’re willing, I’ll lead you to the town and get you introduced.”

“Delighted!” the Troll smiled.

It seemed genuine to Eron.

“I’m trusting you.”

“An accord was struck. Only the vilest blackguard breaks an accord.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“Apology accepted,” the Troll dipped his head before rising to his full height. “Lead on.”