Downfall

"I thought trolls were supposed to be green," Fiona said as she moved to the third creature, which Maldred had sliced the leg off of. The leg was rolling toward the body, and she thrust the flame at it and watched the skin bubble and pop.

"Well, most are," Dhamon said, as he and Maldred simultaneously skewered their foe. "Good idea, what you're doing, Fiona. You can burn trolls. They can't come back to life if they're cinders. Bring your torch over here when you're done."

"I thought these stinking things were only found in swamps and forests," she continued. Her free hand drew her sword and she hacked at her target, which was futilely attempting to hobble away. She heard movement behind her and whirled, thinking it another troll coming up behind her. It was the half-elf, edging closer for a better look.

But the moment's distraction served to the troll's advantage. It reached a hand out and swiped at Fiona's face, the claws digging into her cheek and causing her to cry out. She spun back instinctively, swinging hard and slicing through the creature's arm at its elbow. The claws remained attached to her face, as if the limb had a life of its own.

"That's disgusting," the half-elf spat, as she tugged the arm free, taking some of Fiona's flesh with it. Then she dropped the limb to the cavern floor and snatched the torch from the Solamnic, thrusting the flame to the arm and gagging at the smell of the burning troll flesh.

"Damnable beast!" Fiona cursed. Her free hand held over her injured cheek, she swung at the creature more fiercely, severing its other arm. It howled angrily at her and tried to roll away, but she pressed her attack, repeatedly hacking at it until it was still. Then she threw the dismembered pieces away from the torso and glanced about for her torch.

The half-elf had carried it to Dhamon, who was burning the troll he and Maldred had slain for the second time. The Solamnic reached for her backpack, retrieved a second torch, and quickly lit it and went to work.

Behind her, Rig was calling for some fire.

"Yuck." This came from the half-elf, who had picked up a troll foot, the toes of which were jerking. She tossed it Fiona's way, and busied herself by retrieving the other pieces the Solamnic had scattered, and complaining each time she found something that wriggled.

"Here!" Fetch hollered. "Look over here!" He was gesturing toward the base of the pillar he clung to. A head had rolled there, and was continuing to roll toward the entrance as if it were attempting to make an escape.

"I'll get it," Rig returned. He tromped over to the pillar and hauled back on his leg, intending to kick the head out of the cave.

"Stop!" Dhamon brought his torch over and applied it to the head, grimacing when it opened its mouth and screeched. "There are tales that amputated troll limbs can regrow entire bodies."

"Since when did you believe everything you heard?" The mariner brushed by him and checked on Fiona.

It took the better part of an hour to cut up the trolls and burn them in a large bonfire, which made the cavern reek of charred flesh.

"I'm not certain we got all the pieces," Dhamon said as they stood at the cavern entrance, where everyone had retreated for clean air. He kept his eyes trained on the blaze, occasionally glancing to the walls and the pillars, where the carved dwarven images were more illuminated now.

Then, while Maldred and Rig took turns watching the fire as it dwindled, using their swords to push back fingers and feet that tried to crawl away, Dhamon tended to Fiona.

"It might scar," Dhamon told her as he cleansed her torn cheek with a little of his alcohol. "But the healer in Bloten, Grim Kedar, is amazing. He might be able to help you."

"I will be fine."

"You're cut to the bone. I'd like him to look at you. No telling if you might get some infection or disease. You shouldn't take any chances with something like this. Those creatures' claws were filthy."

"I'm surprised you care."

"I don't," he said flatly. "But it's pretty clear that Maldred does."

"Fine. All right then. I'll see this Grim Kedar fellow when we return to Bloten."

Rikali glided up to the pair. "Oh, I don't know, lover, I think a scar would give the Lady Knight a bit more character." Then the half-elf glided away, before Fiona could think to reply. Dhamon stifled a chuckle.

"Couldn't you have done that outside?" Fetch asked the companions, finally climbing down from the pillar and holding his nose. He pointed to the pile of smoldering ashes. He had refused to budge until he was positive the trolls would not be coming back to life. The kobold waved his hand in front of his face. "It stinks worse'n me."

"That's debatable," said the mariner. "Anyway, it's still raining, so we couldn't've burned them outside." He sharply added, "And thanks for all your help with this." He gestured at the smoldering remains.