By morning, the whole camp is uneasy when one of the troll-led patrols doesn’t come back. After a second patrol reports finding the bodies, the pot boils over. Another troll walks up to the dark leader and demanded more payment to walk around with a patrol. Trolls have a reputation of resiliency to death. To kill one meant they face a powerful foe. The leader called out in a booming voice so all around could hear, “So you think you deserve a greater reward for your help, do you?” he states sarcastically. “You don’t think I…have been generous enough?” He scans the growing crowd of gnolls and bugbears. “Very well. Perhaps I have been wrong. You deserve something else.”
He turns to his dark companion and nods. The robes waft back as pale arms contort in unnatural ways. Ancient words hiss through his muttering lips. With a final syllable, his arms thrust skyward throwing back his cowl. A tower of flame erupts from the heavens, striking the troll. The troll’s cries drown under a high pitched cackle from a pale grin amidst flailing robes. The flames die away leaving a hushed crowd around the pile of ash. The pale man walks up to the remains.
“Now he no longer fears death. Does anyone here still fear the unknown? Who still doubts our cause!?” The crowd refuses to stir. Even the trees seem devoid of birdsong. “Would you retreat from an enemy you have never seen? Do not DARE to cross me. We finish this in a day. We will show these weak fools why they fear to face us here. Until then, you will find them. Make them pay with their blood.”
With enthusiastic blood cries in the air, Migi slinks off back to his hideaway. As pleasant as the death of one troll seems, he’s alarmed at the power of the forces at work. Back at his cave a small gnome waits playing with a puzzle cylinder. His five ponies tug at the nearby brush with their reigns.
“You’re late,” Migi says walking up. The gnome lifts his balding head from his fidgety hands.
“You’re one to talk. It’s a long trek for short legs,” he snaps back. “And mules are more stubborn to a rider. I ran out of carrots.”
“Is everything here?” Migi scans over the barrels atop the mules.
“Ten kegs and some coin,” he says with a wave. “The guild sends its concerns. What’s been happening up here? I thought I heard an explosion earlier.”
“Plenty. Keep a wary eye.” Migi scribbles a few words. He passes the coded note. “I don’t think I’ll be here much longer. They expect to find their prize by tomorrow. Get back as fast as you can.”
“Where’s your troublesome quarry?”
“They are keeping me above suspicion. That… and causing enough trouble to make things fairly hot here. If I know them, they’re planning another attack soon. It’d be nice to catch a few of them…in a celebratory mood. Take extra care on your way back. Their scout likes to shoot first. The gnolls have troll trackers as well.”
Migi’s contact disappears through the trees. Migi rummages through the bags and chests. He turns around, bag in hand, to find a furry face and large eyes staring at him from across the camp. Instinctively he freezes in place. “Well, what are you doing here?” Unwavering, unblinking, the eyes refuse to answer. A tail flips behind the statue-like body. “It’s dangerous for you to be wandering the wilderness alone. You never know where the next predator may be.”
Migi finishes pulling out choice items. He turns again to find his visitor has left. He cautiously scans the area. “Strange. Cats don’t occupy the high mountains.” At least he didn’t say anything that was important. Migi learned early that nothing dangerous should pass the lips, even if one seems to be alone.
