A fantasy short story by Patrick Underhill, set in the world of Dark Age of Camelot.[box] I lifted my hammer and axe in my hands as the first Lurikeen sneak leapt at me from the shadows. He was not expecting a Troll of my size to be so quick, as I evaded his tiny blades. I swung my right arm down, smashing his skull with my trusty hammer. The tiny corpse was soon soaked with his own blood, and only the body remained recognizable. His friends approached more cautiously; there were 3 of them, 2 Elves and another Keen.
They circled me warily, still I chanted my prayer to Modi. The bear god knew I fought for his honor, and he would grant me his strength. I felt the rage coarse through me. It feels good to let go of my civilized ways, to become one with great Modi. For many of my people, it is considered dishonorable to be a Berserker. We Trolls were the first people, and born to be better than Man or Dwarf. We built the first cities in Midgard and brought powerful magics to the lands. But now, we are at war with the peoples of Hibernia and Albion. And war brings us to face our true selves. I am Gruesome. I am a beast. I rend flesh and crush bone. Modi gives me strength and transforms me into a bear so that I might devour my enemies. Like now.
I roared at the little sneaks, as my body erupted with muscle and hair. I was already strong as a Troll, now I was monstrous. My armor ripped from my body and fell to the cave floor. With a clawed left hand, I swung my axe at the Elf in front of me. He swiftly ducked under it and my axe imbedded in the cave wall. I had used such force that I could not pull it out. The other Elf behind me stabbed me in the side with his rapier. I shoved my left elbow back, hitting him hard in the body and sending him flying to the other side of the cave. The diminutive Lurikeen thrust at me with his dagger, barely nicking my tough hide. I threw my hammer across my body at him. He tried to evade the blow, but couldn’t quite make it. There was a sickening crack as I connected with his shoulder, almost folding the puny sneak in half. His limp body flew through the air in a comical fashion. The first Elf stabbed at me, grazing my belly as I turned. I slashed at him with my huge left paw, hitting his head and spinning him around. He never saw my hammer as I smashed it into the back of his head. Blood and pulp splattered from the huge whole where his long, well-groomed hair used to be. And just like that it was over.