Troll Monologue

T’ank you mon. Dat be just what I be needin’ on a cold night like this. Mint tea wit just a dash of Peacebloom for to make us mellow. Brings good sleep. Dreams of colour. Teachings of de Earth-mother. But I will tell you wat be the most important thing to put in the tea, and there be no need to go looking for it. Can you guess mon? It is for your hand to be making it, and to give it to me. Took me a long time to learn that. Ya mon, a long long time, and many miles to be walking these lands. You see, I can make tea. It’s not Voodoo mon, you boils de waters and you puts in the tea leaves, and wait a bit and you have the tea. And don’ get me wrong, tea you make yourself is irie, warms the body. But tea you share with dem fellow Trolls mon, that be warming da soul. Dat’s right, mon. Tea I be giving to you be warming both our souls.

When I be just a small pickney, I be living with my family, and I watch dem dance, same boring old dance every night. Honour dem Loas. Same old songs, and me Fadder be clipping me on the ear if I had the gall to sing another. So then I visit dem Teacher, mon, and he be teaching me what I already know in my bones. I breathe in de forest smells, breathe them deep, and then, I be walking on four feet, mon. I be a Cat! Have you ever been a Cat, mon? No, I be jokin. Only Druids be cats, and let me tell you about cat paws, dey want to be walking. Dey want to be smelling dem smells. Seeing dem sights. When I be Cat mon, there be no colours to see, but dey be colours to smell. You hold your breath, and all de world be grey. Then, you breathe in, and it be like all dem Peacebloom in de world just end up in your lungs. And dis Troll mon, he be thirsty for all dem smells, all dem colours. Loas take dem boring old family, I be seeing de world.

Now this bit of de world, be called Kalimdor, and it be wild, be beautiful. When you be a cat, with nothing on his mind, just to see de world, de best place in de whole world, be where you put your paws. Dem trees, dem creatures, Landstriders, Bears, Little deer, other Cats prowling, hunting. You stay in dem shadows, and you see. Your mother, she be making you gumbo, and it be made from what she drag out of de waters, and you be glad she does when your belly be empty. But to be hunting mon. To be stalking dem creatures with your belly growling. Knowing, dey is going to die, or you is going to starve. Dat be something else. When you have that deer in your claws, your teeth on their neck. You be giving it a good shake so you be feeling it in your mouth when they die, and dey is turned from a living thing into your dinner. You feel like the mightiest Troll in de world, mon. Be nothing tastes as good.

But dem Loas, they not giving you nothing for nothing. You soon learn dat you not be the only one in de forest with big claws, big teeth. Soon learn that many things, dey have bigger teeth, bigger claws. And there be Night-elves. They have bows and arrows, and eyes bright as moon-stones. And dey not be your friends mon. They be hunting you. I be fighting two of dem. One be hitting me, de other be healing her friend. And it be different from hunting mon. Deer, Landstrider, dey bellow. Dem Night-elves, dey scream. Dey be knowing they is going to die, and they be scared. They be having families, and friends, just like us. And they be coming after you, and they don’t forget. Kalimdor, it be beautiful, but it be a scary place for a Troll alone with many enemies around. You can have all the mojo in de world, but prowling between dem trees, with dem only reason you still be breathing is dem Night-elves not seen you yet, dat be making you long for de warm fires, and dem stupid dances. And dem nice warm tea with a dash of Peacebloom.

Be you sleeping mon? You no worry. I be looking out for the both of us.


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