Grrrrrggggggglllllllllllllllleeeuuuurrrrrrrp!

Gob's tummy rumbled loudly.

He watched hungrily from his corner of the cave as Big Troll lumbered in, arms full of fresh slabs and dripping haunches of meat.

Down around Big Trolls hefty legs there were already fights breaking out between Gob's siblings as they jostled, punched, and clawed each other to get at it.

Gob knew that if he went down there now with them he wouldn't stand a chance.

Because Gob was a runt.

The other trolls, all spawned at the same time he was, were bigger than him and stronger than him, and wouldn't hesitate to demonstrate their size and strength if he got himself between them and the fresh meat. Fighting was always fiercest when it was about fresh meat.

That's just how life worked; the biggest and the strongest got to go first, and that meant Gob, the runt, got to go last. But he knew that if he bided his time, and picked his moments, he'd get plenty.

Runts were good like that. They knew that not being big didn’t mean the same as not getting big, you just had to get used to working harder, and sometimes the hardest thing was waiting for your turn. But when you always got the last turn, you sure did learn to make the most of it.

So he sat back for now, watching and reflecting; qualities he knew weren't at all troll-like. In fact when he compared himself to these trollspawn siblings of his, which he did constantly, more and more he felt like he was a different type of troll entirely.

Gob's siblings were all growing big and strong, more so every day. He wasn't. Not bodily anyway. But what he lacked in size he was making up for inside his head; although he couldn't seem to grow bigger every day, he was growing more and more… cleva.

It wasn't all just inside his head though; he didn’t think ‘not being big’ was an excuse for ‘not being ferocious’. He was a ferocious little git, and he made a point of reminding his bigger siblings about it anytime they thought size was all that mattered, which was usually.

From very early on, Big Troll had hammered into them (quite literally) the law of the troll den:

FITE. EET. GIT BIGGA.

FITE MOR. EET MOR. GIT BIGGA MOR.

Hik & Baz, Gob's two headed trollspawn sibling, a rare anomaly that Big Troll seemed very proud of, was already half the size of Big Troll, and that meant he was already double the size of Gob.

His small size was a big problem. Gob analysed it, scowling as he watched his monstrous siblings beating on each other:

i iz no liddl cos i iz no fitin, cos i iz fitin al da tim. ya cant liv ina trol den wivout fitin.

The trollspawn were constantly bickering and bashing and clawing at each other. For a troll, regeneration of bodily damage and growth was a troll trait. It was culture. It was how trollspawn grew into adult trolls: they fought amongst themselves, they got damaged, then they ate the meat their big troll delivered to them, and they regenerated, and as they regenerated, they grew physically bigger. Fast. Gob made sure he got in there and fought with the rest of them regularly, surely being consistent was important… so why no growth?

an i iz no liddl cos i no eetz, cos i eetz lotz, he added to his own thoughts.

Their Big Troll was a very good fighter, which meant there was always plenty of meat. Big Troll brought fresh meat at least once a day, sometimes more depending what poor creatures happened to wander past the well concealed den on their way through the forest outside, and Gob always managed to get his share.

But, despite all the fighting and all the eating, the little runt was hardly getting any bigger at all. His wounds did regenerate like the others, or he'd have been dead by now, but he never grew like trolls were supposed to. He was barely any bigger than when he spawned. He looked down at himself. Greeny brown troll hide stretched over his rows of scrawny ribs and a round pot belly, all held up by a pair of skinny legs that featured big knobbly knees and wide flat clawed feet. His arms were long and gangly, nearly to the floor, ending in, he had to admit, respectably chunky hands with a decent set of sharp claws. He clenched them now into determined fists, reminding himself severely,

i gotta git big or i gonna git ded.

Once the seasons changed, and the warm summer gave way to autumn, the trollspawn would be turned out of the den to choose their own ways and fend for themselves. Some would go deep underground to become fierce cave trolls, some to other parts of the forest to be forest trolls like Big Troll, some to the water where they would develop the webbed limbs and aquatic tails of the river trolls, the swamp trolls and the seaside trolls. Some might even end up as far away as the shadowlands where lava trolls and shadow trolls were said to live. They could go wherever they wanted, as long as it was far away from here. Because 'here' was Big Trolls domain.

Big Troll dumped the meat down in the middle of the cave. He bashed away Hik & Baz, who had already bashed away Poz, and Jik, the other trollspawn, who were still small enough to be bashed away by them. Taking his time while the young trolls looked on jumping up and down, salivating, (Big Troll always got priority and no one else could do a thing about it), he selected a leg haunch for himself, still dripping with blood and still mostly inside a leather boot. He stepped away from the melée that then immediately commenced around his legs, sat down on his throne, and with a satisfied grunt started chewing.

Every troll had a domain, every domain had a den, and every den had a throne; and no troll but the biggest troll in any domain sat on the throne. No troll that didn't want to get eaten anyway. This Big Troll's throne was a large, roughly hewn log on a raised area at the back of the cave, surrounded by the biggest gnawed bones and the most interesting pieces of discarded and battered armour and weapons. Although it wasn’t an actual throne like some trolls had in the old stories, it was throne enough for him.

He settled there now, wiping a tough, muscular arm across his bloody maw and belching loudly, looking intently at the howling and bellowing young trollspawn as they fought over the rest of the meat below. Gob knew Big Troll had probably eaten half the meat on its way here anyway. Big Troll could be like that.

Big Troll frowned and looked around, noticing the little troll sitting in the corner watching. Gob looked away quickly. Big Troll stood up and lumbered over, picked him up by the scruff of his neck, carried him over to the pile, bellowed and kicked the smaller trollspawn out of the way, then dumped him on top of the food. Picking up a fresh rack of ribcage for himself, he stomped back to his throne.

The little troll sat on the pile without moving. Being on the top of the meat pile meant you were in everybody’s way. He knew what was coming. He would be moved out of the way, and nobody would be saying ‘excuse me’. He eyed his siblings with intentional, carefully curated malevolence, but they didn't seem to appreciate the effort he was putting into it.

trols is stoopid creeturs, he sighed to himself.

While the beating he was about to take never hurt his body beyond what he could easily regenerate, it hurt his intellect that his siblings, even Big Troll, in fact his species were so… stoopid. Well, comparatively. Compared to him at least. He’d only been spawned last season, he didn’t have anything else to compare them to. However he had realised early that he was a clever troll, though he was careful not to let that show. If they found out he was clever it would be the end of him. Trolls do not like clever things. Trolls eat clever things. Except goblins. Goblins were clever but they tasted like-

"o looky looky dis" sneered Hik,

"iz dis a gob'n dat haz com in da den?" jeered Baz, jabbing Gob with a sharp claw, and jolting him back out of his thoughts.

Whenever Gob's two headed sibling spoke, Hik, having the slightly bigger of the two heads, always spoke first, and Baz always finished his thoughts. While Baz was definitely uglier he usually had something more informative to say. Slightly more informative.

"gob! gob! liddl gob, iz da siz of a puky GOB!" Poz jeered from behind him and nudged him on the backside with his foot. Poz was smaller than Hik & Baz, and only had the standard single head, but he consistently made up for it by being twice as annoying.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

They all called him 'Gob', because while they were all growing at an alarming rate, he was still just the size of an average goblin. Goblins were considered by trolls to be the lowest, weakest and most foul tasting creatures. They tasted like puke. No troll ate goblin if there was anything else to eat. Even giant bat was better, and they hung upside down and pooped out their mouths, and left that sort of taste in your own mouth if you ate one. But the little runt was little, and being named Gob was a humiliation he just had to accommodate. No one would stop calling him that, and so he just satisfied himself with the knowledge that he was clever and they were just big idiots, and that somewhere in his future was a circumstance wherein he would get one back over them all.

"eet up gob! git bigga gob! get bigga, bigga, BIGGA GOB!" Jik, another one of the spawn smaller than Hik & Baz, but not too far behind them, and more prone to violence than all of them had picked up a bone with some bits of sinew still attached and was whacking him on the head with it in time with saying 'bigga'.

Gob knew they would all team up an beat him up next, BUT he had also been keeping track of the turn sequence: Hik&Baz had poked him, Poz had nudged him, and Jik had beat him on the head, which meant no matter what, HE got next turn priority! So he just waited, looking smug.

It was Poz who pounced on him. Gob, although little, had been pounced on so many times now that he had developed a special skill: the ability to circular throw a much larger creature.

But before Poz could connect, Gob grabbed his shoulders and pulled down. Dropping onto his own back, he caught his bigger sibling’s mass with his skinny hind legs by pushing upwards, not too hard, just enough to support the mass in it’s centre of balance, and using the bigger troll's momentum, sent him tumbling over and past him, backwards. Poz went clattering awkwardly into a pile of old bones and armour in the corner of the den with a grunt of surprise, followed by the guffaws and laughter of the other trollspawn to add insult to injury. Satisfied with that at least, Gob tried for a secondary attack. Though it unlikely as his turn was over, it was always worth trying: he quickly grabbed the nearest thing he could, which turned out to be a severed forearm with a jagged protruding bone, and threw it jagged end first at his next closest sibling, Jik.

mibby i pok his eye owt, he thought hopefully as he watched it fly towards him.

He didn't poke Jik's eyes out. Not even nearly. Actually the thrown limb missed, landing with a wet

flump!

on the floor on the other side of the cavern. Neither did he even try to stop the pounding he got for having a go. It didn't hurt too much really; trolls, even little ones, could take a fair bit of beating.

"i gonna EET ya gob!" he heard Poz screech, and not to be outdone, Hik yelled:

"i gonna krunch yer bones in me teef!", and Baz trumpeted:

"an den i gonna puke ya up cos ya iz a GOB an ya tase like PUKE!"

"NO! NO EAT GOB YET!" Big Troll bellowed over the top of them all from his log.

It was the facts of life they were discussing now though. Trolls spawned in the warmth of spring under the first new moon, and Big Troll would fight for and feed them while meat was plentiful until the cold weather came and they either made their way out to find a domain and food of their own, or they became food. It wasn't unusual for trolls to eat each other when there was nothing else around, or even if there was, and they just happened to be hungry. Though they spawned into life as a happy little family, trolls weren’t especially social creatures when they grew up.

As things stood now though, he was safe from being eaten so Gob just put up with being beaten and clawed and jeered until they got bored and kicked him back into his corner, where he lay to let his natural regeneration get to work and, who knew, maybe even grow a little bigger.

"oi oi yoo lot, com ova eer", it was Big Troll, gathering them together to teach them troll lore. All the trollspawn loved the old stories, so when Big Troll did a talk, everyone listened with anticipation.

"iz storeeee tiiiiiiiiiiiiiim", he said with a grin.

The trollspawn whooped and hollered.

"kwiet… KWIET!" He ordered. Then began,

"wuns der woz a liddl trol calld KRUNCH"

Gob rolled his eyes disdainfully.

dis agen? he thought. But the others were sitting staring at Big Troll, enraptured. Gob saw his chance to sneak over and get his meat while the story continued,

"krunch woz a grate FITER!", they all cheered at that.

"krunch woz a grate EETER!", more cheering.

“krunch woz SO grate at fitin an eetin dat he et draginz an giantz fo hiz dinna!"

'Oo's' and 'ah's' from the trollspawn this time.

"krunch woz SO grate at fitin an eetin da draginz an giantz dat wun day e woz big az a MUNTIN!"

More, longer 'Oooo's' and 'aaaah's' from the trollspawn.

"wotz a MUNTIN big trol?", asked Poz. Gob was halfway across to the meat pile under their noses but paused long enough to shake his head disdainfully. Poz asked that same question every time Big Troll told the story. And Big Troll told this story nearly every day.

"a muntin?" Big Troll answered thoughtfully, scratching his chin as if it was the first time he'd ever been asked "iz a pile o roks dat iz neely az big az da sky".

More 'Oo's' and 'ah's' from the trollspawn.

"wotz da SKY big trol?" Poz again. Gob wanted to punch him.

"o da sky!", said Big Troll grandly "iz da BIGEST fing der iz!"

"woah", said Poz, his limited curiosity satisfied. Big Troll continued,

"wuns krunch woz wokn up by hoomins an dey woz comin ta FITE him!"

"woah", said Poz again

"WOAH" & "WOAH", said Hik & Baz louder, sick of Poz getting all the attention.

"BUT… e grabd all dem and EET DEM IN WUN BITE!", there were gasps from around the room, and stunned silence. Big Troll continued in a whisper,

"den e finded der CASTLE." Poz was about to say something, but Big Troll, not wanting to be interrupted at the pivotal point in the story, waved him off, adding

"iz a big hoomin den Poz."

Poz nodded.

"an wen e finded der CASTLE…” Big Trolls whisper escalated to a bellow, “E BASH IT DOWN WIV IZ FIST!!"

Big Troll jumped up and mimed the bashing of a castle against Poz's torso - or not so much mimed as actually bashed Poz in the torso, the trollspawn writhing on the floor in agony as well as attempting to cheer along with the others who were now whooping and hollering and jumping about wildly bashing each other and Big Troll excitedly.

Gob was well clear by this time, back in his corner with the bottom half of a prime juicy thighbone. He gnawed on it and felt a familiar sensation: the wounds and bruises he had sustained from his siblings earlier were regenerating with sharp crampy pangs and an itchy feeling, leaving only dried crusty blood where there had been open sores not long ago. That was usual for a troll, although ‘usually’ a troll would also increase their size a little every time they did so, until they were as big as Big Troll, or even Krunch. But growing big never happened for Gob like it did for the others.

There was something else that did happen to Gob though, and was happening again now: he could feel a similar sharp pang to the regeneration of his body, inside his head, always followed by a pounding pressure behind his eyes. Every time he took a beating and regenerated, he knew that his mind was getting bigger, straining against the sides of his thick skull. That was entirely UNUSUAL for a troll - it hadn't taken him too many beatings to work that out. He grimaced at the feeling. It made him tired and being tired made him cranky, so he just cursed them all and wished to never see any of them again, and curled up in a ball inside a battered, rusty warriors breastplate that Big Troll had brought back as part of lunch a week or so ago.

stoopid creeturs, he thought to himself. Gob knew he was cleverer than them, and he knew that even though he wasn't getting big, he was sure there was a way he could figure out why not - and if he could figure it out, he could get bigger than them all. He just didn’t yet know quite how, or exactly when.

He made a list in his mind of all the things he knew about himself, so he would always know when he got better at them. Because getting better at things was probably the way he was going to survive. His stats were always the last thing he thought about before he fell asleep in the corner of the den.

ME STATZ:

me: gob. [i iz trolspawn]

me skilz iz:

-hoo gos ferst: i iz stil last

[i iz orwayz last]

-cleva trol, 9

[was 7. i fink i iz mibby 2 mor cleva taday. so 9.]

-clawz. 3

[i no claw anywun, so stil 3]

-fik skin. 3

[woz 2. i woz beet up, so 3]

-bodi frow. 3

[woz 2. i frow poz, so 3]

-rejenarat. 6

[woz 5]

-siz 3

[i no grow. so nufin. i iz 3 evy tim. wy wy wy?? der muz be sum way…]