The Perilous Forest

Gareth wakes with a smile on his face and the scent of lillies in his nose. He has further cause to smile when he is pleasantly surprised by the sultry whispers of .... could it be?

With no care for the consequences, Gareth gazes into the beautiful eyes of the earl's mistress, warmly kissing her full lips as he welcomes her attention wholeheartedly. They can talk of the portents later.

In the morning, everyone wakes refreshed, except Gareth, who feels somewhat drained.

You meet to break your fast, and soon find yourself riding north to the abbey known as Brown Cloister. Maid Maude and Fenwick ride with you on borrowed ponies.

The road to the north is somewhat well maintained, at least at first, but soon you find yourself climbing switchbacks up into the hills. The trees grow thicker, the light dimmer. During one pause, as you walk the horses to rest them, you hear a scream from Maid Maude.

"There, a face! Hideous and cruel!" She points into the trees to the side.

Fenwick places his hand on his sword and is about to plunge into the trees, when it occurs to him to take your lead. "Lords?"

There was a woman in Wolstan's dreams as well, and a beautiful one. But he shrank from her touch, he turned away when she reached for him. Which shamed him, and left him out of sorts for a good part of the morning ride. And so it is well into the day before he thinks to ask Sir Gareth whether he spoke to the mistress, but then there is the Maid Maude, trembling and frightened again by something she's seen. A keen-eyed woman, she certainly seems to be.

The big knight does not tarry in dismounting, lowering his visor, raising his axe-and-turnip emblazoned shield, and drawing his sword. He gestures right and left to his fellows, hoping to place them on the flanks of whatever it is Maude saw. "Prevent this cruel creature from escaping," he says simply, as he advances forward into the trees.

Gareth too dismounts and draws his sword, the sound of metal sliding through scabbard stirring his pounding heart, as he hurries quietly to the right of Sir Wolstan, ready to fight.

Sir Wilfred imitates his companions, taking the left flank, arms ready.

The four of you move into the woods, with Wolstan taking center, and Gareth and Wilfred flanking. Perhaps the latter two only hope to corral the thing that Maid Maude saw and keep it from getting past the senior knight, or maybe they're wary of an ambush.

As Wolstan proceeds, a huge crazed man leaps out of the bush at him, yellow fangs flecked with spittle, and filthy hides covering its upperbody but the rest of him is naked. He bellows not unlike a bear, and brandishes a huge club. He's larger than most men, and every tale you've heard on such things tells you that this is a troll!

The creature is poised as if about to attack the armored knight, Wolstan.

What do you do?

The size and fearsomeness of the club is not lost on Wolstan, and his shield is quick to position as the half-naked bramble-thing comes at him, crashing through the trees.

"Weigh your chances here, trollkin!" the knight barks from behind his great helm. "Tis four against one and our steel is bared! You've no advantage here!"

"Behold, fiend!" screams Sir Wilfred, brandishing his sword in an attempt to intimidate the monster as started by Sir Wolstan.

"The thing is crazed and will be unpredictable," Sir Gareth warns. Hoping the thing will take heed of Sir Wolstan's words as Gareth brandishes his sword and waves it menacingly he adds, "Mark the knight's threat, beast!"

Gregor is also at a flank!!

Onward the thing comes, so Wolstan braces for the impact, trying to deflect its blow with his shield before countering with a low and powerful swipe from his sword...

The troll's attack is savage, untrained, fearless... but ultimately his bluster is just that.

Wolstan, not taking that troll lightly, blocks a heavy blow with his shield, but it isn't as powerful as he'd expect.

The action is initially too quick for Wolstan to recognize that he's fighting a mere peasant, though a big and rude one. So after blocking the clumsy strike with his shield, the knight strikes and draws blood with his sword. It's not a mortal wound, but the armored man's attacker won't be walking without a limp any time soon.

When the brute ends up on the ground, the point of Sir Wolstan's steels hovers near his neck.

"Hold, knave! Why did you attack us so?"

Satisfied by the outcome of the short fight, Sir Wilfred is prompt to step on one of the monster's arms to thwart any further attempt at violence.

"Well played Sir Wolstan but can someone cover his nether regions? I find the view to be somewhat offensive." Sir Gareth turns to the downed creature, tempted to place a boot on his shoulder.

"And you troll. Pray tell us why are you half-clothed?"

The peasant, clutching his wounded leg, grits his teeth for the pain. The man hears Wolstan's words but as if through a fog, his feral mannerisms retreating behind a cloud of fear.

"No, let me go!" he says in a haggard, ill used voice, as if he was the wronged here.

You question him further, and find him to be a madman, barely coherent. He only wants to run away, or hobble.

Sir Wilfred frees the man's arm, not willing to lose too much time with him anymore. "Let's continue with our travel. This creature is obviously not worth our time." he proposes to his companions.

Gregor admires Sir Wolston's quick reaction and delivery of a non lethal blow--when it was obvious that Wolston could have easily killed this...pitiful 'troll' of a man.

"Perhaps you are right Sir Wilfred. We should show this wretch some mercy and not let him delay us further."

Gregor turns to the beast of a man and asks, "Do you even have a name?"

Sir Gareth was about to agree with Wilfrid and Gregor but decided to wait and see if the feral creature responded with his name. Perhaps once he gave it, he would be more inclined to say more.