The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) by Garrett Robinson (elon musk reading list TXT) 📕

“I fight to win,” snarled Dotag.

Chok attacked again. But his blow was a feint, and when Dotag sidestepped it, Chok struck with his other fist. It connected under Dotag’s chin, sending him staggering backwards. He struck the outer wall of the courtyard, and only barely managed to throw himself out of the way as Chok’s following blow slammed into the stone. Above them both, a Shade lost her footing and pitched over the other side of the wall with a scream.

“You are weak!” cried Chok, coming after Dotag, who tried to scramble away. Chok caught one of his flailing legs and spun, launching him into the keep again. He struck the double wooden doors headfirst, splintering them both.

Phelan looked to the top of the keep. His soldiers were ready. He clenched his fists, beseeching his Lord for good fortune.

His prayers were answered. When Dotag saw Chok coming for him, he scrambled back, deeper into the building.

“Cowering with your human friends,” sneered Chok. “Tell me again how strong you are.”

Chok reached the front of the keep. He stooped, reaching inside and trying to seize Dotag.

“Now!” roared Phelan.

The Shades atop the keep lifted their huge wooden levers. A massive vat of oil tipped as they strained against it. As it came spilling out, they plunged torches into it, setting it ablaze.

A waterfall of burning oil crashed down upon Chok, dousing his whole body.

The troll screamed in agony and stumbled back. The burning oil coated him, roasting his softer insides, his iron-hard skin no proof against the blazing heat. Blinded by the inferno, he flailed wildly about, seeking something he could hold to steady himself.

Dotag charged out of the keep. He brought both fists around in a wide arc, smashing them into either side of Chok’s head. The troll leader stumbled back, dazed. Dotag punched Chok in the gut, and he bent double, groaning. Dotag clenched his fists together and brought them down on the back of Chok’s head, crushing it into the stone courtyard.

He did it again. And again. And again, until Chok stopped moving.

Slowly, Dotag backed away from the corpse, his shoulders heaving mightily with every panting breath. He lost his balance for a moment and fell on his rear, propping himself up with one arm. Then he seemed to realize that he was still in a human stronghold, and they were looking at him. He fought back to his feet, shaking his head to clear it, and turned to look at Phelan, who was now cowering near the keep entrance.

“I lead the pack now,” said Dotag. “We will do as the Lord has bid. But I want Gatak.”

Phelan, hoping that the danger had passed for the moment, emerged into the open. “She shall soon return. We will send her when she does.”

“See that you do,” snarled Dotag. “And when we drive the other humans out of the mountains, we will expect your reward.”

Phelan could do little more than nod. He watched as Dotag went to Chok’s body and lifted it in his great, muscular arms. He struggled under the weight, but he carried it out through the gate and off into the mountains.

Dark take me, thought Phelan. I need a new pair of breeches.

Once he was out of sight of the Shade fortress, Dotag dropped Chok’s body. Then he began the messy process of scraping off the oil and the burned skin that covered most of Chok’s form. The other trolls could not know that the humans had helped Dotag with their fire.

After removing most of the evidence of burning, Dotag found a large rock. He slammed it into Chok’s corpse over and over again, mashing it to a pulp almost beyond recognition. The wounds, the exposed flesh, and the black blood all worked together to hide the last signs of flame.

Dotag took up Chok’s arm and began to drag him along again.

It was nearly sundown by the time Dotag returned to the rest of the trolls, still carrying Chok’s body. As soon as they saw him appear over the rise, the trolls moved forwards. At their head was Apok. She saw what Dotag carried in his arms, but she could not quite believe it. Her heart sank as she finally recognized Chok’s face, mashed to a pulp but still bearing his telltale ripped ears.

“What have you done?” she cried.

Dotag answered by throwing Chok’s body down before the pack. He snarled and puffed out his chest, slamming his fists into the ground. “I have taken leadership from Chok. He was weak, and he was a fool. I am stronger than he. I lead the pack now.”

Apok cried out—but a peal of grief, not an angry roar. She fell on her knees by Chok, gingerly touching his chest. Chok lay unmoving, his eyes staring past her, unseeing.

Dotag ignored her, looking over her head at the rest of the pack as they gathered near. Some of them looked at Chok’s body in wonderment, some in shock. But none bore the same anger, the same grief, as Apok. They seemed attentive. Ready to hear what he had to say. Ready, mayhap, to obey.

“The humans are our enemies,” declared Dotag. “We have driven them from our lands. But how long did they dwell there? They ignored the pact. Now we will teach them to fear us. These mountains are ours, as our ancestors declared in the beginning!”

He thrust a fist into the air. Some of the trolls joined him, unleashing great, bestial roars.

But Apok looked up at him, still cradling Chok’s body. “They are within the bounds of the pact already,” she said. “And they were never close to us. They never took any land we had already claimed. If you attack them now, you will be marked as a betrayer.”

“They betrayed us first,” snarled Dotag, pressing his face close to hers. “They cast aside the pact. They cannot claim its protection now.”

“Yes!” cried a troll in the pack. “Let us drive them from our mountains!”

“And let us