Intended to be a throw-away character for a short story I wrote, I ended up kinda liking this guy by the end of it, oops.

Here's an excerpt for anyone who gives a shit:

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Footsteps pattered heavily above. "Down 'ere, Warlord," came a voice with a notable tone of pride that Rinzane instantly recognized as the troll that headed the assault from behind the stand of trees at the altar. "Come see de Scourge beast for yaself."

The pair proceeded down into the dim prison, the supposed warlord out front. He was on the short side for an ice troll--about 6 inches or more below the lackey trailing behind him--broad-backed with legs and arms thick with muscle, but his torso clearly lacking in tone, a sizeable paunch oozing over the top of his belt. Hair was a light orange mohawk that drooped lamely to the right, and his pudgy face bore a heavy brow, beady red eyes set somewhere underneath, further masked by the tall tusks jutting prominently from his strong jaw and directly impeding his vision; he had to eye the captive sideways around them.

The moment Rinzane took in the sight of this troll a wide smirk creeped across his face. A deep chuckle began in his throat that soon erupted and filled the chamber like the first, forceful boom of thunder from an approaching storm. "Are you vekkin' serious," he mocked.

The portly Drakkari's face wrinkled in offense. He thrust his chin forward and straightened up in a sad attempt to look taller and more imposing as he strutted over to the bars and peered down his bulbous nose at the death knight. "I am de warlord o' dis stronghold and you will learn yo' place, wretch." Rinzane laughed harder.

"Zol'maz's bones be writhin' in de ground if 'e saw de cur dat took over his keep."

The taller troll stepped briskly forward and slammed his fist on the bars. His shorter superiour pinned his stubby ears at the clattering iron. "Warlord Jik'kul holds ya life in his hands, Scourge dog. If you be valuin' it, you bes' mind yo' tongue."

Rinzane's grin merely cracked to one side. "What are you gonna do, cut off my head like one o' those mindless, shufflin' husks?" He barked an unimpressed laugh.

"A bonfire," the troll quickly retorted, taking his turn to sneer haughtily. "We gonna burn ya bones to ash."

"But not today," Jik'kul added, much to the dismay of his eager crony. Still holding his nose high, he eyed the death knight sideways. "Lucky fo' you a heavy snowstorm be fast approachin'. Seers sayin' it'll be many days before de winds calm enough to build yo' pyre." He gave a lofty sniff--though the fetid odour quickly made him regret it--and turned back for the stairs. "Perhaps it be givin' you time to come to terms wit' yo' demise."

Rinzane took to chuckling again, making sure it sounded twice as insulting as the last. "You'll be doin' me a great favour," he called, "I'll be waitin' wit' bated breath!"