Many times the Baron's Collectors have been asked why we do not blink, why our gaze is as eternal and finite as the grave itself, and more often than not we respond with some kind of cryptic reference to our duty.
This is however a lie, one we weave to continue the concept of the unbiased ever watchful Collector, it's a deliberate misdirection spawned out of requirement, the less questions asked the less revealed and the mysteries of the grave are preserved. The truth however is far less noble, and is an uncomfortable thought for those whose faith depends on our unshakable laconic nature.
The truth is that at one point or another we were all Trolls, our hearts beat, we felt pain, love and suffering and...we remember. As I sit in this old chair it is not swords, nor fire, nor loss of limb that I fear most...it is memories. Like spirits conjured from the darkest recesses of the mind, they return to haunt me in the late hours of the night when my eyelids grow heavy and sleep clutches at my mind dragging me down to witness all that I have done, all that I have witnessed in my long, long existence. Like many of my brethren I do not close my eyes often for when I do the ghosts of my past return to haunt me...and they are as unforgiving and cruel as only memories can be. The touch of every lover left behind, every mothers tears shed for a lost child, the anguish and pain I daily encounter are entombed within my mind for all time.
Try as I might I can not think of myself as a...thing, a creature who spirits those away to their end without feeling or concern..I am...after all is said and done..a Troll, and while my flesh has faded to shadow and my heart is a darkened grotesque mockery of it's former state, I still feel...everything.
The IC thoughts of the Troll Witch-Doctor Ka'Zak'Guul servant of Bwonsamdi and the three disembodied spirits of his predecessors, collectively known as "The Fathers" whose off color and often perverse comments interupt the Doctor and his work at almost every turn.
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