Nór and Aldaron see the troll bound ahead in mighty leaps, sack tossed across it's back. You follow it through the maze of gulleys, dirt mounds and boulders. The sunlight streams through to touch the muddy ground in places and you see the troll barely dodging a few patches of late afternoon sun. There is no straight path but you notice that the troll is heading for the ruined tower on top of the wart, a few hundred yards away.

---

So, catching up with the troll is no easy task -it is hideously strong and equally fast- this will be a skill endeavour where you two have 4 attempts each to achieve 6 successful skill rolls. If you fail, the troll will have reached the ruin before you. You may choose which skills you use as long as it makes sense in the narrative.

The land is broken, twisted, the path treacherous, and the troll they pursue all too well suited to it. Aldaron immediately realises catching the troll will be more difficult than he imagined.

He dashes from rock to rock, fearful at first of ambush from the gully's steep sides. His apprehension drops when the tower emerges in the distance, though his fear of what awaits them only grows in consequence. With Nór weighed down by his armour, Aldaron quickly catches up to him, closing briefly on their prey (ATHLETICS: Success).

The troll must be making for the tower... It is too obvious a target not to be what he seeks. Who knows what awaits them in there?

"Whatever happens," he says between breaths, "if we don't run it down before it reaches the tower, we turn back, agreed?"

He hopes Nór sees the sense of it. As much as he fears for Thomas, hurling themselves piecemeal against unknown foes secure in a fortified location would be worse than foolhardy.

Fortunately, the troll isn't hard to pursue, even on the rocky ground. Wherever it sets foot on softer earth, its massive bulk crushes an impression; on the rocks, flecks of thick black blood speak of the wound Nór left, or his arrow. (HUNTING: Success.)

"This way, Nór." He grabs his friend's arm, tugging him aside into the eastern wall of the gully. Here, he can see the troll had to veer west, keeping to the shadow to avoid the dying sunlight. It affords them a brief opportunity to make ground by cutting through the lit area (HUNTING: Great Success).

Once they make the far side, Aldaron pushes ahead in a sprint. The troll is closing fast on his destination. It may be Thomas's last chance (ATHLETICS: Success).

---

OOC: Four chances. Three successes and a great success.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:31, Tue 19 Mar.

Nor's head swims. It seemed he could barely remeber walking into the gully, much less yesterday.  There was some dark sorcery here, for not even a few moment's trot after the troll and he felt lost, his very legs leaden, and with his first glance backwards to see if he was alone - and enheartened to see Aldaron - he smashed his shin into an outcropping, further reducing his speed and his confidence. [Athletics: Failure with Complications]  Aldaron passed him then, commenting on this and that, but still Nor could get no clues from the environment, [Explore: Failure] and when Alderon stated "Whatever happens, if we don't run it down before it reaches the tower, we turn back, agreed?"

Nor agreed.  "It's gotta be makin for the tower, eh?  Stow it's dinner, and fight in the dark.  We canna let that happen."  [Battle: failure] As if on cue, Alderon tugs him into what might be the last sunny spot then surges ahead...

Nor would not, could not catch it.  It was too far, too fleet, and the dark tidings swelled into the edges of his vision...

Though there was another voice.  'Hope does not leave you', said the small clear voice 'cept you abandoned it...'

And a fire of anger surged through him!  He lept atop a larger flat stone, and in the last of the failing light of this day, he raised his sword and bellowed at the troll:

"I. Said. HOLD! Beast!  You Will Face Me!  I am a dwarf of Durin's Line, wrought of Ten Thousand Years of Pain and Suffering to your filthy, petty ilk.  And You Will Face Me!  I stood on the field of Five Armies and live today to fight you, and You Will Face Me!  Khazâd ai-mênu!" [Awe: Extraordinary Success]

OCC: four chances; three fails, one extraordinary success.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:15, Thu 21 Mar.

You chase the troll across the uneven ground, making great way until Nór stumbles and choose the wrong way. When he calls out his challenge the troll turns around with hate glittering in it's eyes. It throws the sack away and you hear the crunch of bone as it lands on a rock (this is the complication). With a roar the troll launches itself straight for Nór but forgets to mind the last rays of the evening sun and catches a ray straight in it's face as it climbs across a boulder. Perched atop the huge rock it turns to stone!

You hear whimpers from the sack further up the slope, it seems Thomas is still alive.

---

Oh my Lord Nór, I got gooesbumps from that last post!

Nor growls low in his groat as the troll turns toward him.  If this is his end, let it be such an end...

"Bring your pretty face to my blade, filth." he mutters to himself, as the troll nimbly moves across the rocks...and full into a sunbeam!  With a shriek from the troll and a surprised chuckle from Nor, the threat is gone.  Well, this threat, anyway. "Aldaron!  You see that!  I wouldna believe cept for mine own eyes, I wouldn't! Can you make it to Thomas?  THOMAS!" he shouts, then under his breath, still surprised, "Aye, laddie, you're ok, for now..."

For his part. he rubs his banged shin, then, starts heading towards Aldaron and the crumbling tower. We got to get back, but with Thomas, and through this maze.  "I hope that pointy-ear elf has more in the eyes department than the sense department." he mutters somewhat nonsensically to himself...
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 01:59, Fri 22 Mar.

Aldaron stops as Nór calls out his challenge. In that moment, Nór's majesty is revealed and he can only stand and watch as the dwarf stands atop the boulder in the last rays of the dying sun.

Clearly, he isn't the only one. He winces as Thomas crashes into the rock, breathing a sigh of relief when the sack gives out a cry of pain. At least Thomas lives. He raises his sword in salute to Nór and turns to face the troll. They will, at the last, meet this together.

And then the troll stumbles into one of the last patches of lingering daylight.

Aldaron laughs, two part nerves and tow parts relief. Even wounded, a troll is nothing to take lightly. "I see it, Nór... I'm just not sure I believe it."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Come on, let us get Thomas free and go back to help the others. I hope their trolls are as stupid and clumsy as this one."

He clambers over to the sack, joining Nór as they try to open the weakly struggling bundle. "Well, Thomas, you've found yourself a fine tale to tell in the Prancing Pony, if nothing more."

With your help Thomas manages to release himself from the coarse fabric. It might have been a tablecloth or curtain at some point.

Thomas is bleeding from a deep gouge in his head and he seems disoriented but he manages to sit up and croak "Not over. The Troll... it said... 'mother is hungry'."

"Oh, lads.  That's not good.  Not good at all.  It might be that our guide Jari didna have good intentions.  Thomas, can you walk?  We've got to find the others and get out of here."

Thomas nods. "I can walk," he stands up, knees almost buckling but manages to steady himself. You see a new determination in his narrow face. "Let us go," he says.

Nór hands Thomas his dagger.  "It's moren nowt.  Alderaron, know whereta go?"

Aldaron nods, still considering the tower. It'll be dark soon and nothing he's heard so far fills him with optimism. The troll stands in mid stride where the sun struck it, its face twisted in hate, and some fear.

"'Mother is hungry'. What do you imaging it meant by that?"

He doesn't expect an answer. At least, not until night falls and whatever waits in the tower issues forth. He forces himself to look away from the frozen monster and starts back the way they came. Perhaps it is not too late to help the others.

"I do, Nór. Follow me, we'll head back to the mouth of the gully. Keep your eyes open, it's possible one or both the other trolls will be coming back this way. If they survive."