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Tavros is not well known for playing games at their most efficient, and Fiduspawn is no exception. If she were any other troll, she would have used her exceptionally powerful psychic abilities to command the highest rank of beast, wrangling them from her opponents with ease and climbing the ranks right up to Fiduspawn Master, but Tavros is Tavros, and would much rather do things her way.
She sits before the doors of the barn down near her hive. Well, she thinks it's a barn. She honestly isn't sure how it got there, it's too far back in her memory to recall properly. She's been using it as such, anyway.
She can intuit when the egg will spawn now; she's so used to each monsters' breeding rates that she doesn't even need to check the shitty camera she installed, for the telltale sign of the footage going completely pitch black for a few seconds before the egg appears.
The smell from the barn is unpleasant, but Tavros is used to it by now. Opening the door with her equipment at the ready, it worsens, and she is faced with the horrible approximation of a nest her monsters have left for her.
Smelly webs of slimy biomatter extend from wall to wall, forming a lopsided pyramid around the egg. There are several layers, each thick and needing to be cut into with something sharp. As a young player, Tavros had charged right in with her trusty lance - and it was fun, sure - but it was innefficient, more messy than you could ever imagine, and risked damaging the egg. Tavros Nitram is a goddamn professional. She has tools now. This Fiduspawn shit is serious.
She takes out the equipment; the main attraction being a sharp, hooked blade. She makes the first cut, digging the hook into the first layer of fleshy web, before gliding the blade along, cutting it easily with the sharpened edge. Snot-green slime oozes out of the incision, and Tavros wipes it out of the way with her bare hands.
She makes a similar cut in the next layer, having to pry it open this time, and more slime drips down, rolling a fair distance down her arm. Any more and it'd be down her sleeve. Yeuch.
The web gets thinner further in, each slice getting easier, and soon enough the egg is exposed. Tavros reaches an arm in, gently picking the delicate prize from the web's foul clutches.
The short trip home and a shower later, Tavros leans over the egg. Despite their aesthetic similarities, the mechanics of hatching an egg are different from the deployment of an oogonibomb in normal gameplay, but surely anyone would already know the deeply complex and fascinating ins-and-outs of such a popular game, so they won't be repeated here.
Hatching the egg is the easy part, especially since Tavros can control the often very stupid creature within into breaking out of the Fiduspawn Incubator PlushTM. What emerges is a Disappointment.
As in, the Fiduspawn monster named Disappointment. It is a very on-the-nose name. It is completely typeless; not even belonging to the largely useless sludge type or niche-use-case ichor type. Its stats are terrible, it has actively detrimental abilities, and - the thing that matters most to Tavros' playstyle - it is completely incapable of reproduction.
Tavros looks upon the poor thing with pity. Even she hasn't been as unlucky as to have encountered it regularly, and is usually at a loss of what to do with it. Ultimately, she settles on the humane thing (not that trolls have a concept of 'humane', for several reasons) and severs the pathetic monster's brainstem with the same tool she used to clear the web earlier.
The night proves uneventful.