With a confused look on its face, one that came perilously close to fear, the Troll fell down amongst the rocks, and collapsed.
"Eh?"
"Eh?"
The two little men looked at each other.
"That was a Troll, right?"
"A Water Troll, aye…"
"Was?"
"It's definitely dead."
The two of them came creeping forward with all the curiosity of a pair of cats. They looked down at the Troll corpse from atop their rocks. One of them gave it a light tap with his large boots. "Dead," he pronounced.
"Dead," the other affirmed.
"We didn't fail our mission. The forest lives on."
"Are we heroes?"
"I don't reckon so…"
They turned again to Oliver, and this time, both of them jumped in fright.
Oliver shook his head. Their erraticness was beginning to wear on him.
"You!" One of them pointed.
"You're unwell!" The second said.
"Nay! You're tainted! You shouldn't be here!"
"Ingolsol!" The other cried.
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
"...Would the Dark God protect us?" One whispered to the other.
