POV : TROLL DUNGEON

  Portilla and Crushir were happily hanging out in their cozy troll dungeon, which had quickly become a place of warmth and comfort despite its initial bloody status. The stone walls, while rough, had been smoothed over time with soft moss and woven tapestries that gave the place a homey feel. A large, worn-out hearth sat in the center of the main room, where a fire crackled gently, casting a golden light that flickered off the ceiling. Wooden furniture—handmade and sturdy—was scattered throughout, giving a sense of rustic charm. There were no foul smells or slimy creatures lurking; instead, the place felt like a warm embrace, with soft beds and thick blankets made from the fur of large mutant beasts.

  Around them, little trolls scampered about, laughing and playing. The dungeon itself had created these toddler versions of full-sized trolls, saving on mana cost and adding to the vibrant energy of the place. They looked up to Portilla and Crushir, their leaders, as they tugged on their legs or darted between furniture, happy to be part of such a large and bustling family.

  It was their home, and despite its rough edges, it was filled with love.

  Ever since they’d become adult trolls, Portilla and Crushir found themselves spending less and less time in Fort Bone. Sure, they were seen as mascots and protectors of the Empire, but wearing armor all the time? Not fun. The two siblings preferred the freedom of their cozy dungeon, surrounded by their family of little trolls and subordinates. They’d still train with Atlas, and the mini faeries were always buzzing around, adding to the fun, but there was something about the dungeon that felt more like home.

  Today, their hundred subordinates were out in the main chamber, having a grand time. Trolls of all sizes wrestled and laughed, with loud thuds echoing through the space as some practiced their combat moves while others playfully tumbled into each other. It wasn’t serious training, but it was training in its own trolly way. Each one wore basic level 1 armor—simple, a bit dented from all the fun—but no one seemed to care. They were too busy having a good time.

  Two trolls, larger than the rest, were locked in a playful mock battle, roaring and swinging their clubs with exaggerated gusto. THUD! One hit the ground, laughing as the other flexed his muscles in victory, only to be tackled from behind by three smaller trolls, who dogpiled him with gleeful squeals.

  On the other side of the room, a group of trolls took turns hurling rocks at a target they’d drawn on the wall with charcoal. Each miss was met with loud groans, while every hit was followed by cheers and chest bumps.

  Portilla watched from her spot near the hearth, smirking as Crushir joined in on the wrestling, already laughing as he was taken down by three of his wives. ‘He never learns’, she thought, amused.

  Her mind drifted for a moment to the anti-flame potions. They’d been a lifesaver during the war, and Portilla always made sure they had plenty stocked. Even now, she had a small stash tucked away, just in case.

  As she glanced around, her five husbands mingled among the crowd, laughing and joking with the other trolls. Some of them had already started families of their own, and a few were expecting. Crushir’s six wives, too, were starting to show, and the little troll family would soon be growing even larger.

  The whole scene was like a symphony of troll life—messy, loud, and full of heart.

  ‘‘‘

  Crusher definitely had gotten busy with a lot of the female trolls, and some of the teenage trolls were eyeing him for a challenge for Alpha. But every time they even thought about it, they’d watch Crusher and Portilla lead the other adult trolls out for raids throughout the wasteland, joining Alexander’s army and smashing bandits into bits. Crusher had become a hero to them, doing exactly what they wanted, having lots of troll wives and lots of fun action. The trolls in this dungeon were a lot less bestial and savage than the trolls that had been spawned before because of the leadership of the two siblings.

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  “When you have a son,” asked Portilla.

  “Don’t know,” Crushir said.

  Portilla also wanted her own troll baby, but it seemed like it wasn’t working yet. She would have to find a new husband, another one, if she didn’t get pregnant soon. She was imagining her little troll babies dressed in the same cute outfits that she and Crushir had worn when they were kids. In fact, they had already gotten a lot of outfits from the Paws and Claws machines. Atlas was always fair to his trolls. He paid them more than he paid regular soldiers, and the trolls had a blast buying things from the vending machines, from food to better weapons, and surprisingly cute outfits for the baby trolls.

  It was then when Titus stumbled into the dungeon. He said, “Portilla, Crushir, help me.” Portilla liked hanging out with Titus. They both shared the same sense of humor and liked to play pranks on the other Portal Crushers. One time, they had hidden a whole bunch of rock candy in John’s bed and sent the mini faeries in to interrupt John and Lark at night. Titus and she had a great laugh watching the mini faeries swarm around trying to get the rock candies while John was yelling at them to get out.

  “I’ve got a problem!” Titus yelled.

  Behind him lumbered a large female troll, towering over him with an eager grin plastered on her face. Portilla, noticing the newcomer, narrowed her eyes. Another female troll? Could only mean one thing.

  Alpha challenge.

  “Fight,” Portilla grunted, already cracking her knuckles.

  The female troll shook her head vigorously. “No fight. My new husband.”

  Portilla blinked. “What?”

  “Yes, husband. He makes happy baby with me.”

  Portilla turned her gaze slowly to Titus, who was doing his best to look as innocent as possible. ‘Since when did Titus have a female troll as a wife?‘

  “She’s not my wife!” Titus protested, throwing his hands up defensively. “I was out in the wild doin’ my business, and I slipped. There I was, takin’ a big dump, and next thing I know, I rolled down a hill and landed right on top of her when she’s fightin’ a ghoul!”

  Portilla raised an eyebrow. “A ghoul? That easy fight.”

  The female troll proudly puffed out her chest. “He tough. Fight no pants.”

  Portilla exploded into laughter, her belly shaking as she doubled over.

  “It’s not funny,” Titus said, face red as a beet. “I even got an achievement for it.”

  ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED:

  TITLE: Troll’s Layer

  Description: You’re the first human to ever try to get it on with a troll. You got some interesting mating habits, buddy. What’s next? Female Centaurs called Nieghsa?

  BONUS: Additional charm with trolls. They won’t attack you unless provoked.

  ‘‘‘

  Portilla, still wheezing with laughter, could barely catch her breath. “No pants, Titus!”

  Titus sighed dramatically. “And then I tried to give her some Soylent Green bars to get her away from me.”

  The female troll beamed. “Yes, he give many gifts. Me love Soylent bars. Look, it has happy troll on it.”

  Portilla glanced at the bars, noticing the green monsters on the packaging. ‘Uh, those are the Peeple faction, not trolls… but sure, happy trolls.‘ The female troll was absolutely smitten with them, though, clutching the bars like prized treasures.

  “He gift. He no pants. Much touching. We married,” the female troll said proudly.

  Portilla wiped away a tear from laughing so hard. “Titus, you married.”

  “NO!” Titus yelled, and without wasting a second, he bolted for the dungeon exit.

  “Wait, husband!” the female troll bellowed, barreling after him with surprising speed for her size.

  “Ahhhhhh, get away!” Titus screamed, legs pumping as fast as they could go. His achievement may have protected him from being attacked by trolls, but this wasn’t about getting attacked—this was about… being molested.

  In no time, the female troll caught up and scooped Titus up in a perfect princess carry.

  “Go home now,” she said, cradling him like he was a delicate flower.

  Titus just hung his head in defeat. “OK,” he mumbled, accepting his fate as they made their way back to Fort Bone.

  “Can you at least put me down?” he asked, eyes darting around for an escape.

  The troll paused. “OK, no run and hide. No more games.”

  “Fine,” Titus grumbled, already resigned to his new life. ‘I wonder what Mama’s gonna think about this…‘