"Traitors, you bunch of traitors, roar!" the Half-Ogre fumed, hammering the ground with his once-treasured Nodular Gnarled Club, clang clang.
After collecting most of the taxes, he had regained his former prestige; no longer suppressed by Gaven, the fiery temper typical of Ogres was flowing back into him.
"Open the door, or I'll smash it to bits!" Roar threatened viciously.
Creak! Creak!
Before the Half-Ogre could act, the rudimentary gate of the Goblin's camp swung open on its own.
A tall, hunched figure staggered out.
From a distance, one could tell that he was as tall, if not taller, than the Half-Ogre, his build lean and towering, with astoundingly long arms nearly dragging on the ground. His fingernails were a dozen centimeters long, curved into arcs like dark, long Daggers; his skin was a dark green, with black tumors growing all over his broad back.
Troll.
This Guardian of the Goblin Tribe was actually a Troll.
