With a snarl the troll turns to Grok displaying all of her yellowed fangs before pouncing upon him, one claw tears a bloody slash across the side of his neck as the stench of the creature, like a stagnant pool filled with long dead things, hits him.
Seeing Grok rush past, Maurie tails him. "Looks like they aren't the 'fight it out' types, huh?" She calls to him as she follows.
Grok exhales heavily, a hand coming to his neck, as he is struck. He regains his balance rapidly, falling into a low stance and backing up enough to give him a moment.
Probably can't fight this alone, not if it's healing. Grok threatens to stab the troll with an arrow, flicking at its eyes, resting his bow on the floor and taking a step back as he does. Then his sword comes out and cuts a slash across the troll's chest.
One of his hands goes out and pushes the stoveroom door open, and he takes a step up into it, keeping his sword out the whole time.
The half orc is running, we must face this troll first! Go Forward! Grok shouts, loud as he can.
Maurie makes out what Grok is saying, but is puzzled, as it seems she was the only other one to follow him directly. "Hoping his voice will carry to the others, whereever they may be, I suppose." Finally catching up to the man, she turns to see the ugly hulking form of the troll.
"Well, hello there. Eviction notice for you, I am afraid." Smiling, Maurie follows this with a quick flick of her chain at the creatures' arm.
"The others seem to be going around... or they retreated entirely, I can't say. All I know is you were the only one to give chase this way." She says to Grok without turning from the troll.
As Brin steps forward into the intersection a series of cleverly concealed steel bear traps spring into life as he steps into the middle of one! The steel teeth bite into his calf to the bone sending blood gushing forth and pinning the Skald in place!
Grok and Maurie both would the troll, though some of their damage heals over before their eyes as the hideous thing shrieks and claws at Maurie. Both claws sink into halfling flesh and tear viciously through into her shoulders emerging slick with blood as Maurie collapses to the floor!
Grok reaches out tentatively with one hand as the claws sink into Maurie's flesh, then pushes forward, keeping after the troll with his sword. Damn, don't want to let her die. Come on, keep in from eating you just long enough for backup.
But his swing goes wide.
Maurie collapses unconscious to the floor, but the bleeding seems to stop for the time being.
"GROK! Brin's caught in a trap! What's going on over there? Zove, see if you can spring this trap open, Brin, help me try to pull this off!"
Brin howls in pain as the clamps dig deep into his legs. A slightly audible *snap* rings in the skald's ears.
My leg! By the gods, my leg!
"Crom! I need your help..."
Tears begin to stream down Brin's face as he feels the blood leaking from his body.
Not like this! To hell with Trun...no, these people need you more than ever. The voice...
Brin digs deep into his soul, finding a place of inspiration amongst the pain. He bellows out a shout.
"A winter's blizzard, amongst the trees...
The mother's kick upon the cheek,
Neither stops a skald from putting
Pen and ink upon the sheets...
An energy fills the room, entering all of Brin's companions and raising their resolves.
Cromwin grunts as the trap slips through his hand, refusing to budge at his and Brin's attempt to force it open. "No, no, no, come on..." He meets Brin's eyes, worried.
Brin looks up at Cromwin, meeting his eyes with a steely, determined gaze.
"Go, help the others. I'll keep up the voice..."
Cromwin feels Brin's song soak into his body, inspiring him with strength and confidence.
"We'll be back for you, my friend! Zove, come on! Grok's in trouble, I can't see without your lantern!"
Please no bear traps, please no more bear traps...
Cromwin makes a mad dash through the side passage, heading towards Grok.
Cromwin and Zove are both able to pick their way through the revealed bear traps along the small fifteen foot section of corridor.
Grok sees the half orc struggling to pull himself up onto the floor above, as does the troll which hisses over its shoulder. Distracted by its retreating companion the troll's attacks are clumsy and easily avoided by the ranger. Now Grok sees the slash he inflicted heal completely flesh knitting before his eyes.
Cromwin rounds the corner, seeing Maurie's torn and shredded body lying in a pool of blood and water on the floor. Cromwin runs forward, standing over her body in a protective position. Please be alive, please be alive. Gods, what a nightmare. Erastil, Abadar, whoever might be listening...watch over her.
Cromwin hears Brin's song continue, inspiring him with fury as he sees the Troll locked in mortal combat with his friend. Cromwin yells out as he prepares to plunge the lance into the Troll. "Grok, side step! Now!"
Grok bats aside the claws easily, keeping good distance and preparing a counterstroke. Then feels his blood run hot. Must be that magic again, I will kill you! Suddenly Grok jumps up from his low stance, swinging from the air across the troll's brown and into her shoulder.
He laughs at the sight of blood as it pours from the troll, tasting it in the air as he pushes down on his foe, and leaving himself in an exposed position for far to long. But before the troll can recover he springs back, Cromwin's words in his ear now and he steps to the side, his sword already pulling back and ready to deliver another chop.
There you go, now what's next Brin? You can't see...
As the ballad continues in his mind the idea of light manifests. On the tip of Brin's sword now shines a light with the strength of a good Lantern.
Magic! It's true!...
Brin continues to perform as loud as he can.
"The Ballads bring upon the world,
Fervor and Honor and Pride.
The Poems show line across the hills,
They both unlock what's inside!“
Cromwin stands his ground over Maurie, warding the Troll away from her. Cromwin lunges forward as Grok moves aside, the troll just barely dodging the lance thrust. Cromwin growls in frustration.
The half orc's foot slips from beneath him just as he is about to reach the surface and he fails to catch himself descending in a cascade of water and rubble! But perhaps because of his raw cuts and scrapes he is able to resist Zove's soporific spell.
The troll meanwhile, snarls and moves to corner Grok a single claw again raking across his flesh painfully.
Cromwin throws his lance to the ground as the troll gets inside his reach. He hears Brin's voice singing, almost drowned out by the thunderous patter of rain, and it fills him with strength and purpose. We won't let you down Brin, we won't leave you to die alone in the dark. We won't leave ANY of you here.
Cromwin steps forward, and in a fluid motion pulls his warhammer from its sheathe and slams it into the Troll's back with both hands, crushing bone and bruising flesh.
Grok grunts in pain as the troll claws him, not so deep as before but still a painful wound. The skald's voice fades, and he can see only what is in front of him, his limbs once again heavy and frail. Cromwin's blow knocks the troll off balance, and with a single clean stroke Grok brings his sword straight down on her skull, splitting bone and brain alike.
Grok moves forward, towards the figure of the half orc sprawled on the ground. His vision goes dark briefly, and he turns back to Cromwin and Maurie. Not sure how much longer I'll be standing! He takes a few steps back towards his allies, stumbling slightly but still strong.
With a bit more energy, Brin continues to spout poetry at the top of his lungs.
"A troll no good to anyone, unless it's dead and burned,
It should have known to stay in it's cave,
And keep avoid the heroes' spurn."
Okay, let's try to move, Brin...Oohhhhh
Eyes darting wildly the half orc attempts to dodge back away from Grok, but stumbles leaving an opening for the ranger, but dodging the falchion slash. Then the half orc simply runs for the door,
"You shouldn't be fighting me Blood Traitor!" He hisses at Grok.
As Zove's magic takes effect this time the half orc slumps and falls snoring to the floor.
With the troll down, but regenerating, and the half orc snoring the group are victorious for the moment, but will need to act quickly to secure their foes.
"AHHH! It's still moving!" Cromwin looks down at the Troll as the cleft in its skull begins to knit back together. Cromwin takes a mighty swing, smashing down at the movement of the healing flesh and crushing the Troll's skull into paste. "How do we kill it?!"
Grok stares at the half orc for a moment, looking around at the troll as Cromwin shatters her skull. Must be magic then...seems quite useful. I wonder if I could ever learn to do that sort of thing.
Grok takes out a rope and tosses it to Cromwin, then takes out the second one and, wincing, begins to tie up the sleeping half-orc.
We need to see to Maurie, come on, any of us have healing magic? Grok's words are loud, and he stands, looking nervously towards the bleeding figure of the halfling.
Maurie moans a bit, clearly not quite dead yet. The moan though is barely audible over the sound of the rains, and beyond it she makes no responses to her surroundings. A quick inspection reveals that her wounds seem to be being held closed by the way she landed on the ground, but it clearly would not take much further trauma to reopen them. Her paler than normal complexion gives an indication as to how much blood must have flown out prior to her landing on the floor. It is readily apparent that without proper medical attention she will not survive the night.
No, but I've a sword if he does, and we need to get Maurie to a doctor...What happened to Brin? Grok stands tall and battered, cleaning his sword in the rain and then on his pack he sheathes it, picking up his bow and sheathing that as well, then crouching down next to the unconscious halfling.
Doesn't look good. He says, quiet enough under the rain that it's likely inaudible.
Cromwin moves over to examine Maurie as Zove begins to dissolve the troll in acid. Cromwin gently bends down and picks up her torn body, great relief washing over him as she moans in his arms. Thank Abadar or whoever cares, she still breathes. This doesn't look good though, we have to get her to Tyari right now.
Cromwin eyes Grok's wounds, then locks eyes with the man, eyes full of worry. "Grok, I hate to ask you to do this, but I think you should carry that half orc out of here if you can. I don't think we should leave him alone where he could escape or be eaten by the spirit rat, and Maurie needs Tyari now. Are you able to carry him, or are you too badly injured?"
Grok walks back to the sleeping half orc and rolls it over one shoulder. He tries to straighten, blood seeping out of his wounds for a moment, then he puts a hand on the ground and leans back, managing to get his back straight. He stands, adjusting so that the half orc lies across both his shoulders, and exhales heavily. Looks like I'll do fine.
Brin no longer hears the clash of battle from the room further down the hall. He holds out his sword, looking at the point of light emitting from the tip of the blade.
Ooooo, ouch! Damn it! ...I can't believe I've done it. There hasn't been a skald with magic in the north is...ages?
"Hello? We've come from the guardhouse and we've found the bard! Who's in there? Show yourselves!"
Grok staggers towards the source of the noise, nearly falls over before straightening himself, then reaches for the door. We are who were investigating the murder of Rodrik, who were at the ceremony...with the knife, and the rope! Grok opens the door and looks in at the bard. Blood runs down his leg, maybe broken, but that long, shining sword against the dark. No foreign writer here; a warrior poet.
Grok pauses for a moment, eyeing the bear trap. Stuck there then? Didn't know you could make light, or guardsmen. Grok sets the half orc down against a wall, careful not to disturb any dreams, and then takes a look at the device. We need to move quickly, Maurie's not in good shape, and neither of us are doing well either. Any idea how to get free? I only know one way a trapped animal gets out, and it's not pleasant.
"Uhh, it'll be a team effort to open this thing off my leg. I can offer the inspiration."
Brin looks at the half-orc bemused. Create guardsmen...Nah, I'm no wizard...
Cromwin misses Brin's declaration entirely, staying hesitantly focused on Maurie and the Troll. "Zove, is it working? Is that....thing...still healing? I don't want to leave you with that, but..." He looks down at Maurie, and bites his lip, before glancing over at the approaching light. Cromwin moves behind Grok, squatting down and cradling Maurie in one arm against his knee as he picks up his lance, then stands, sheathing his lance and lifting Maurie with both arms as he recognizes Brin.
"Brin! Can you make it up the stairs if you lean on me? We can get you and this half orc up on Anvil while I carry Maurie." Cromwin looks at Brin's leg, expression sick as he views the trap dug into his companion's flesh. "We'll get all of us to Tyari as fast as we can."
Well, suppose we'd best try to open it, then, Grok says, grabbing one set of teeth and motioning for Cromwin to grab the other.
"Alright, we'll try it. Hang on Maurie..." Cromwin gently props Maurie up against the wall, then takes the other side of the trap, preparing to heave.