The Bounty Hunter

June 1st, 2088

The troll was of course at the deepest part of the mine, munching away at what was the most recent sacrificial slave.  “Looks like he won’t be saving some cost.” I muttered to myself as I sized up the troll in the flickering light of the mine lamps.  It looked to be about 12 feet tall, with the characteristic huge nose and large flappy ears.  It had a humanoid figure, although it was extremely slope shouldered and more resembled a gorilla on its knuckles than an upright human.  Its skin was a dull grey-blue and it was extremely fat.  

I sighed inwardly after I realized just how fat the troll was “With that much blubber, his threat level is a solid 9.”  The threat level was a system I developed over the years to evaluate the danger of a situation/opponent and its range is from 1 to 13.  Anything 10 and below is something I can handle although the risk of injury and death varies depending on the number.  11 is a 50-50 situation, 12 is high chance of death and 13 is near certain death.  I have never face a threat level 13 in my lifetime thankfully.  An average troll would be a threat level 7. 

The reason that a fatter troll is more dangerous is due to the ridiculous regenerative ability that all trolls have in this world.  You can cut off a troll’s head or tear out its heart and its regeneration could handle it.  However, the regeneration only lasts for as long as there is energy available for it to use.  Otherwise, the troll turns to dust as the regeneration literally cannibalizes its own body in order to try and recover. 

So the fatter the troll, the more energy reserves it has and thus the more it can regenerate.  Not to mention the extra fat also acts as armor, making it harder to injure in the first place.  Only fire can limit the regeneration, but that was not an option because the mine’s poor ventilation would cause me to suffocate from the smoke.  “It’s gonna have to be a battle of attrition, I guess.” I thought out loud as the troll noticed me and immediately lunged with an arm outstretched at a shocking speed. 

I easily sidestepped the arm and promptly swung down my rhomphaia, severing the hand from the body.  Hacking limbs off was a strength of the rhomphaia, even this troll’s fat couldn’t hinder it.  The wrist also had less fat on it than other parts of the body, making things easier.  The troll was unperturbed and immediately swung its arm in sweeping motion as if to slap me away.  Instead of backing out of range, I turned to face the incoming arm and swung down my rhomphaia once more. 

The hand was severed and flew to the side from the centripetal force, allowing me to remain motionless since I was out of range of the now shortened arm’s sweeping motion.  But the time it took for this series of events to occur was enough for the troll to regenerate the hand that I had severed first.  And the troll once again tried to crush me with the new hand, which I severed again. 

Although this mine shaft was big enough for the troll to enter, it was not big enough for it to move freely about.  So it had to make due with these simple attacks.  The lack of available space also limited my flanking options, so this back and forth of the troll regenerating its lost limbs while I kept cutting them off continued for about 25 minutes.  Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that the severed parts turned to dust as they tried to regenerate, I wouldn’t have had any space left to swing my weapon at this point. 

At last, the troll’s enormous blubber reserves were depleted and the enormous monster was reduced to an emaciated husk.  The troll wobbled unsteadily and I charged forward, nimbly avoiding its last-ditch resistance as I stabbed my rhomphaia right into its heart.  The troll finally collapsed and turned to dust as its regeneration consumed itself, leaving nothing behind.  Incidentally, one of the reasons why people hate dealing with trolls is because they leave no corpse that could be harvested for materials.  I sheathed my rhomphaia and immediately left to report my success. 

The dwarven mine owner was delighted at the news of the troll’s death and immediately paid me the bounty of 2 gold.  Just like in your stereotypical fantasy novels, the currency was divided into iron, copper, silver and gold coins.  20 iron were equal to 1 copper and 20 copper were equal to 1 silver while 20 silver was equal to 1 gold.  1 iron was about the same value as 1 US dollar, so a copper was 20 dollars, a silver was 400 dollars and a gold was 8000 dollars.  For reference, an average commoner makes 1 gold (8000 dollars) a year and lives a very poor lifestyle. 

Merchants, craftsman and the like make more but it varies.  So I took my 16,000-dollar reward and started to leave the mining town as the dwarf yelled out “Alright you filthy lot, time to get back to work and fucking be of use you trash!”  The tattered doors on the houses opened up and the workers trudged out slowly.  It was a collection of dwarves, animal eared beast-kin and a few elves.  All of them looked to be starved and worn down as they trudged toward the mine where they would be worked ragged.  And those were just the free workers, all the slaves had been fed to the troll. 

I paid them no mind as I left, since horrid sights like these were rather common in this messed up world.  I checked my watch and saw that it had been 5 hours since I came here.  I was feeling hungry and my mom was going to come back soon, so I decided to leave for home after I reported my completed bounty.  Now that I was out of sight, I stooped down and wrote in the snow with my hand “A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.  A journey of a thousand miles ends with a single step.”  These two sentences were written in a circle around me and as I gathered my mana they glowed brightly.  I then took a single step forward and vanished from the harsh snowy north in a burst of light.