Ugly

Ugly

Even for a troll, Grubmuncher was ugly. So ugly, indeed, that the other trolls shunned his company. In time, he was forced from society.

This was not entirely unwelcome to Grubmuncher, however. He had never liked the constant bickering amongst trolls and their wars with other races. Grubmuncher was that rare creature, a pacifist troll.

He spent his time wandering through the forest, enjoying the delights of nature and avoiding contact with other sentient beings. Until, that is, the day he paused in a small clearing, savouring the warmth of the sun on his back and the scents of flowers and grasses in his nostrils.

Just as he was about to move on, a different smell emerged to tickle his memory. Where had he encountered such a stink before? The answer came as a sudden punch to his senses.

Ooman!

No further thought was required. Grubmuncher called upon his favourite skill and melted soundlessly into the shadows of the trees behind him. But he did not turn and run. From hiding, he watched the far side of the clearing until movement revealed the shape of a man in the shade of the trees.

As Grubmuncher watched, another man emerged from the forest and the two began a whispered conversation. The troll began to skirt the edge of the clearing to get closer and hear what was being said.

“Reckon it was a troll.”

“Well, where is it then?”

“I dunno. Turned away for a moment and, when I looked again, it was gone.”

A twig snapped beneath Grubmuncher’s foot. The oomans turned and saw him, their mouths falling open in shock.

“By Koban’s beard, it’s an ogre! Run!” yelled one.

They ran, leaving a bemused Grubmuncher rubbing his chin.

“An ogre? I didn’t think I was that bad…”

Word Count: 298