TROLLINS

"Fangs are so damn smart, they are evil genuises." Eldermar thought. Placing his hands in his pockets as they walked. "He couldn't have figured out anything, now could he?" He kept asking himself. A plethora of thoughts clouded his head.

"Oh! I'm such an idiot, why did I get noticed? I'm going to stay on a low key. I can't get any more attention than I already have."

"Good luck! Shorty my man." Parele's words flickered over and over through his head.

"Ha! Shorty." Eldermar chuckled. 'I knew I would go through many adventures, but trollins? Woah! Its now or never..."

Men rubbed their faces, breathing heavily as sweat ran down their faces. Eyes filled with anger and fear.

"I have a bad feeling about this. I'm...scared." Naurin cried with teary eyes.

"Come on man, its okay, I know you can do this! We can all do this, all eight of us. Okay?" Eldermar cajoled squeezing Naurin's hand.

"Why separate me from my brother? Why?? Why???" Naurin cried out.

Now it wasn't even about the trollins for Naurin, the fact he was not with Nyeren was eating him up from the inside.

The first time he was separated from his brother. Minutes felt like hours and hours like days.

The brother closer than the thumb and index finger, dearer than a shadow and the N in Naurin.

Whenever their mother took them for training, it's either they succeed or fail but they do it together.

Or the time Nyeren stole gauli(camel milk) from babadai, and got his thumb removed. Naurin did the same using his grandfather's knife.

Where the name 'Twins without thumbs.' originated.

Nyeren was always the one making messes and Naurin the one cleaning up those messes. It was always like that and they both enjoyed it being that way.

"Its okay your brother will be fine..." Eldermar stopped, when he realized it was Naurin's turn to go into the battle ground.

"Naurin Arelevour!"

Naurin gave a sigh and left.

"Good luck!" Eldermar whispered nervously.

One of the royal guards stepped forward to undo the binding and open the door.

When he was led into the dark pathway that led into the battle ground, he stared into the darkness and wondered if there was no end to this tunnel. Maybe it went on forever and finally, Naurin was now standing at the center of the battle ground. Anxiously waiting for his opponent.

He blinked severely afraid he was blinded by the darkness.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the stink of the battle ground soon to filled with the stench of blood.

And there he was, the trollin. Two times the size of a man, his razor sharp teeth and claws petrified Naurin even more. He gave a grunt and spat on the ground.

Naurin was dumbstruck, could he simply just close his eyes and stop breathing?

No he couldn't what about his brother?

He knew the trollin would tear him apart.

"I never thought the chief of defense would go to such lengths."

He remembered his mother's words to his brother.

"Nyeren, you know your brother does not want this. I want both of you to return home hale and hearty."

Chances of that coming true was very low.

Naurin fell into an easy stance and adjusted his step. He had no reason to attack first, he gazed at the trollin, and wondered how he could overcome this monster. A frown crossed the trollin's hideous face, he finally paid attention to his opponent.

All of a sudden the trollin throws a few test punches, but Naurin reacts slowly. He kept trying to block them off, but his fears had already gotten the best of him. Finally Naurin throws some skilled punches and kicks. The trollin swipes them away, still no attack to the trollin. Impatient, the trollin roars angrily as he picks Naurin up by the neck. Naurin screamed out in pain and clutched at his face. Struggling to breath, he chocked, gasping for air.

Naurin's screaming finally stopped. The trollin removed his hand and let Naurin fall hard to the ground. The trollin walked away, leaving Naurin's lifeless body.

In less than twenty minutes, the trollin had brought an end to Naurin.

It was a game of life and death.

The atmosphere was tensed, most men regretting their action.

Joz on the other hand, had fought trollins on several occasions. So he had no reason to worry. However, he couldn't help but wonder how Eldermar would cope.

"I'm affirmative the mastermind behind that beard is a girl, how could she face a trollin all alone? He thought.

He wrinkled the skin on his forehead, once again ashamed of his actions.

He was mentally slapping himself.

"Eldermar Eliseo!" It was his turn to go in.

"Well...its now or never." Eldermar said as he tightened his headdress.

"Eldermar!" Joz called out in a low tone.

"What?" Eldermar turned around.

"Keep it of its feet. Aim for the nose, that's it biggest weakness." Joz foretold.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Try to look out for your own freaking fang ass okay?" Eldermar smirked and left for the battleground. "Ugh! I loathe bloody red hairs."

"Well...that was...rude." Joz thought. How could Eldermar speak so informally to him?

"Hmm...bold."

The men waited and waited. Minutes elasped into hours, each man waiting in anticipation as they were called in one at a time. Joz anxiously waited to be called in. His fists dying to get some action. But turned out he would be the last man to be called in.

Joz Hezra!

"Oh! Finally, some action." Joz swiftly as he made his way into the battleground. He clenched his fists as he approached his opponent.

The trollin shuffled, shifting to keep Joz in front of him. Joz held himself an easy confidence. The trollin held his hands up high and began to circle Joz read to attack. Joz danced around feeling cocky, either Joz was supremely over confident of his abilities, or the trollin simply wanted a spectacle.

The two opponents squared off. Joz closed in on him firmly holding the trollin's left leg, but not letting his guard down. Joz's method of fighting was cruel and to the point. The trollin stared unblinkingly at the top of Joz's head, he started loosing his balance. So he throws severe punches on Joz's head. Joz didn't move, he held the trollin's leg with all his strength and shoved him back hard against the floor. Dust scattered as the trollin fell hard on its back.

Joz got on top of him, throwing severe punches unto the his opponent's face. Concentrating mostly on the nose, the trollin cried out in pain. Joz could feel his hand hurting, it began to bleed. But he didn't stop unleashing all his rage and hatred on the trollin. Till he was sure there was no life left in him.

"Ooh!" Joz gave a sigh of relieve as he laid on his back panting.

"Who dares to mess with a fang?!" He yelled looking at the dead trollin with immense disgust.

"No one!" A voice answered him out of no where. Joz stood up swiftly.

It was Hogalbar.

"Well done soldier, you are one of our lucky seven."

"S...seven?"

"Yes! Only seven out of fourty survived. You soldiers are weak if I might say." Hogalbar replied stroking his chin.

"Hey! You take him to the special quarters." He added looking towards Joz.

"Seven? It can't be."