Strong was on his way home when he surprisingly heard voices speaking to him.

“Komm, kämpf! Dein Gott befiehlt es dir, folge ihm! Du wirst reich belohnt, schau in dein Herz. Es wäre eine Leichtigkeit deine Wünsche zu erfüllen, du musst nur deinen, nein, unseren Weg folgen. Du lebst glücklich bis ans Ende deiner Tage.“

Move, figh…

A god has requested that you fight…

A unique path may await you.

Strong’s mind started to clear, and a new, abnormal focus began to spread in his head. He could finally hear his inner thought. He could think, and his closed eyes showed him more than his eyes could ever conceive. Something changed. Was this the intelligence Strong always longed for? He felt refreshed but there still lingered a thorn in his hearth, something was still missing.

With his newly found intelligence he tried to search for his missing dream, but he only found sadness. His wish seemed complete but only emptiness remained. He needed to remember, but his mind didn’t reveal its hidden secrets.

Was Strong still stupid?

He only knew one thing. If he followed the whispers maybe than he will be smart enough, maybe than he can find the hole in his hearth.

Following the voices Strong noticed that meat and dangers alike were on the same path as him. Only the whispers restrained him from attacking or running away his fellow beasts, reassuring him that they would be allies for a future trial.

Once he reached the voices origin he noticed that he and the other beast were guided to a camp of shiny meat. Naturally Strong was smarter than other trolls, he knew that the meat ahead of him were humans. Annoying opponents but not a threat for someone as strong and smart as him.

Warte! Dein Hunger wird dich nur noch stärker machen, lass dein wahres Wesen wachsen. Fühle wie dein Zorn brodelt, lass die Sonne das Biest entfachen. Du wirst wissen zu tun ist. Folge dem Weg, folge dem Gesang des Blutrauschs.

Strong was annoyed by the ever-growing orders of the voices but he didn’t have the courage to turn against them. He could only wait in sadness as his belly started to growl. In all his ecstasy he had forgotten his hunted food and now he even had to wait among many tasty allies, a truly missed chance for a quick snack.

Slowly but steady Strong grew nervous. The sun would soon rise, and he was still hungrily waiting among the rows of beasts. Strong disliked the sun, the rays often burned his skin and the stinging pain would follow him for days, leaving his skin vulnerable. Dejected he resigned himself to fate. Our smart troll knew that greatness never was easy.

Once the sun rose Strong’s thoughts suddenly kindled into an inferno of hunger and rage. Strong often felt similar thoughts when he was hunting but he didn’t look kindly at his emotions. They made him dumb, as smart as he was he naturally found a way to calm himself.

Strong hit his broad fist on the rough ground and grinded his arms against sharp rocks. He shredded his flesh and carved deep wounds. The ground was smeared with blood and dirt entered his wounds, he felt his arms ache.

Strong was a cave troll. While there could be big differences between troll subspecies each troll had an astonishing regeneration ability, some could even regrow limbs. Trolls would often recklessly attack their prey without regards for their wellbeing, while one reason was their healing abilities the other reason was their inability to feel almost any external pain. Cave trolls possessed one of the strongest regenerations of their kind, but this left them with many draw backs. Their strong healing made their hide as soft as a newborn leaving them vulnerable to spears and swords alike. Furthermore, their skin could easily be burned by sunlight which would weaken their natural healing.

Funnily enough rock trolls were cave trolls which traded their nocturnal live for a diurnal one. Their burned skin would turn into a thick coating of horned skin [Author: Is “horned skin” the correct word?] making them tougher but Lessing their healing. Their scarred hide resembled rocks which lead to their naming.

Strong would often use pain to subdue his stupid mind, but today something was different. The blood and the pain only strengthen his rage and his mind became more and more foggy.

“Look at these Beast, they are already hurting themselves. This will be a quick fight” Mocked a soldier from the caravan.

All soldiers of the caravan were hired for their secrecy, strength and most importantly their experience. A journey of these dimensions was no easy feat and each step needed to be taken with utmost care. It was utmost blasphemy to underestimate their current danger, especially when a 3m tall troll and many more monsters outnumbered them. Surprisingly they not only didn’t berate their comrade but even joined into a mocking laughter. It seemed the caravan itself lost all rationality.

Strong hungered and the rage etched into his senses, he and his temporary allies similarly started to run frenzied to their human opponents. Which was meet by smiling faces and a wall of shield and spears.

The first wave to reach the caravan were the canines, their claws and fangs were stopped by shields and their bodies jumped into rows of spears. They were no match for human teamwork and only the rare rhinoceros sized canines showed any chance to penetrate their defenses. Luckily the slow rest soon followed.

Goblins tried to sneakily walk between the shields of distracted soldiers but Strong did a simpler approach. He rushed with his full body weight into the formation. Spears, propelled bis his own speed, went deep into his body and were broke on their way through the body. Even his rips got pierced and one of his three hearths was stabbed. He had opened a gap for the rest of the beast but got lasting wounds in his first contact.

Stolen story; please report.

His pierced hearth wouldn’t regenerate with a foreign object in it and a hearth less would result in an overall decreasing of his regeneration. The remaining five spears were scattered around his belly and chest, only slightly hindering his moving capabilities. The wounds had already closed themselves and the spears couldn’t be easily removed.

Strong took a step back after the unexpected pain in his chest. He might have been wounded, a rare occurrence for every troll, but his strength was still far above that of humans. He grabbed one of the nearby dead canines and used the corpse as an improvised club. The 160kg heavy corpse was as simple as effective.

The reach, weight and speed of the club needed to be stopped by three shields holder’s simultaneity. Each swing cracked bones and blood flew. For the first time the soldiers felt fear. They sacredly acknowledged what would happen to them if the they ever fell into the troll’s hands.

Many noticed that the battle at their front fell in a perilous situation. In the end a comparative younger soldier named Gern van Holsten did what needed to be done. He drew his sword and marched to the troll. While he troll noticed him and swung his corpse club at him. Gern maneuvered nimble around each swing till he had reached his swords range. He ducked under another corpse blow and slashed the trolls’ hand.

Strong was annoyed, his tendon was cut, and his club fell out of his hand. He tried to use his left hand to reach the little bugger, but he only grabbed empty air and his left hand also had its tendon cut. For a moment Strong was startled, never did he experience any inability to control his body.

Gern used this moment to draw a dagger from his belt and stabbed it into the troll’s spine. Strong’s legs lost all its strength and his tall body stumbled to the ground. Gern knew that a troll’s body was practically immune to fatal spot, so his best chance lied in beheading the beast. He had used all his finesse and got reward to save his comrades.

Strong fell with his face ahead into the ground. He couldn’t stand up nor did his hands support his frame. He needed to be fast, but he needed to think. He bit with all his might into the ground, he didn’t know what happened, but he knew what he had to. He used his arms to flip his body and saw the soldier readying himself for the finishing blow. Strong took a deep breath and then blew his dirt filled mouth into the soldiers’ face.

A whirlwind of sand flew into Gern’s face. His eyes stung, and his vision got blurry. Gern knew that in a fight it was important to never hesitate and to stop your opponent from catching any break. He had no choice; van Holsten calmed his mind and trusted his instinct.

Strong used his chance to roll his body out of harm’s way. He heard a sword hit the ground where he had been a second ago. His tendons finely regrow and he up righted his torso. His opponent was still blinded but surprisingly the sword was stabbing at his throat. It was now Strong’s turn and he used his right hand to welcome the sword while his left hand supported his body. He let the blade shove completely into his tall hand and then encompassed the tiny sword holding his hand.

Our troll smirked at his own brilliance and showed his true strength. He crushed Gern’s hand and terrifying screams were let out.

One of the mages, Roat Feinfell, noticed the battle between Gern and Strong. He started to chant a fire ball spell as soon as he noticed how his mate was about to die. Normally he would be unable to interfere in a 1vs1 match, spells were unprecise, and the collateral damage was high, but Trolls were special in this regard.

Trolls were from nature afraid of fire, more so than another beast. Charred flesh couldn’t regenerate and needed to regrow. It is assumed that the fear for fire is an intrinsic instinct of trolls. Cave trolls possessed a dislike towards sunlight which only increased their fear for fire.

As the fire ball hit the ground next to Strong, flames swirled around. His mind throbbed, a fear grows in him and the voices were finally driven out of Strong’s mind. He had the need to run away, to get as far as possible from the only thing that could hurt his body. His spine was still wounded and as he let go of Gern he crawled with the still embed sword in his hands away from the flash of hire.

“Boy come back, be grateful that the troll is wounded, or his tendons would have healed the moment your sword left his flesh. You already pushed your luck too much. We will handle the rest.” Shouted Roat to Gern.

As Strong calmed down he pulled the dagger out of his body and removed the sword in his hand.

“The voices made Strong dumb, the robe man made Strong dumb and hot light made Strong dumb. Strong is smart, but Strong needs to be smarter. I know, a teacher makes people smart, smart people make people smart and smart people can pew pew hot light. Strong will steal robe man.”

Strong declared with a wide grin his plans.

“Bbbrrrrrrrr” A troll’s belly decided to share its opinion on the matter.

As Strong rubbed his belly he looked back to the battlefield he wanted to leave, normally he would never consider staying so far away from his cave as the sun was on its rise, but easy food and a teacher were a great temptation. Now that the voices were away he felt no remorse for easy snacks. He grabbed the tiny one-handed sword which made him look smart and returned to his former fighting place.

Strong wasn’t a picky eater, but as he was on a solo banquet no one would complain when he only took the best parts. He grabbed a half dead goblin and ripped his head off. The blood helped him to refresh his dry throat and the tiny arms, leg and rips weren’t much, but muscle flesh always tasted better than innards.

When the sun rays got stronger Strong thought of a smart idea. There were so much dead pelts and shiny pins on the ground that he could make himself some closes. He went from canine to canine, dead or alive and ripped their fury skin away. He then pinned the skin with daggers on his back. While mostly undisturbed there were some monsters he wouldn’t dare to cross paths with. Giant salamanders for their firry breath alone were a no go but wolves taller than himself had once tried to eat him and smart trolls learn from their mistakes.

Once he was finished he had tons of ripped, bloody, mini coats on his back and his belly seemed to have doubled in size. He had some spare time. He rushed up hill which allowed him an overview on the caravan and he could try to remove the spears on his body. He opened his skin with the one-handed sword and then rummaged through his flesh and innards. As he was about to remove the third spear from his body a giant shadow approached caravan.

The shadow revealed itself to be a 5m tall twin headed ogre which was on its way to the battlefield. An Ogre was normally only 3m to 4m in height. 5 meters already bordered on the height of a small giant while twin headed ogres themselves were already rare.

The ogre seemed to turn the tide of the battle all by itself, the old one could no longer sit by and watch. There was no old one that wasn’t a legendary person on its own right. In the beginning of time every civil humanoid had to fight for their survival. The strong had the right to barely see the dawn of the next day. The ancient monsters, cursed by the gods, fell into a deep sleep, each awaking means a catastrophe on itself.

At first the old one was able to suppress the ogre but when one of its head started to spell an incantation, things turned dim for the caravan. Strong saw his chance and rejoined the lines of beasts.

A storm of magical lightning formed on the sky and thundered into the ground. Everywhere soldiers died, and formations broke apart. The magician tried their best to subdue the wild magic of the ogre but missing their magical support the troops felt into further struggles.

When Strong spotted his robed teacher, he could feel the worth of his patience. He would soon become the smartest monster alive. Strong, as smart as he was, already learned from his previous rush. he grabbed himself a goblin in each hand and started to run straight for the group of robe teachers. On his sprint he would throw a goblin to distract nearby soldiers and as he predicted he did reach them without any trouble.

“Strong finally found teacher, Strong will take teacher, don’t stop Strong” Declared the troll with bloody pelt stripes on his back.

The magicians were shocked to meet a troll so far into their lines. It must be stated that while mages were a rare and strong addition for a troop they were weak to any form of hand to hand combat. If Strong so wanted he would only need a minute to kill all 14 of them.

As Strong took the nearest mage and ran back into the plains he felt thrilled to have a new addition to his smartness. The nearby soldiers looked in stupor at the turn of events. They noticed to late the rampaging bull in their line and now he was running away with a hostage in his arms.

Strong was surprised by how little resistants’ he encountered but he soon noticed his mistake. Beast all around him looked greedily at his prey. In one arm he had to hold his struggling teacher and the other arm had to crush bones and strangle throats. A new front was created on the battlefield.

When he was home Strong only felt tired. The magicians didn’t make it easy for him, he tried multiple times to electrify him.

“You, robe man, must be smart u can do zzzippp zip and hot rays. From now on you will make me smarter.”

“What a rare sight, a monster that speaks. I am Roat Feinfell and I will advise you to better kill me quickly, for I will never help your kind. I swear on my name that I will use every fiber to stomp evil roots like you.”

The human spoke more than he expected, and he even sounded so weird. He was tired enough already and didn’t want any more bull shit. He tore on the robe from Roat and then started to gag him with the cloth scrap. To prevent him from doing something stupid Strong had break his arms and legs. The human looked evilly at him, but he didn’t care, he didn’t need to be smart to know when someone wanted to kill him. it was time to sleep. [Author: Is it too much or is it monster like?]

“Don’t look evil human, I am smart, I will give blood.”