Meanwhile, Markus and Sron did their best to duck and dodge the thrown masonry, so far keeping one step ahead of the lumbering beast but knowing they couldn't keep their agile maneuvering up forever. A third rock was tossed toward Sron, the Gnoll leaping like a pouncing hunting dog to escape the projectile. The distraction gave Markus the time to aim his flintlock pistol, discharging the weapon. The metal ball punched into the Troll's collarbone, but it did little more than stagger the monster, giving a harsh flesh wound. It grabbed at its broken skin in dumb confusion, grunting as it tried to understand how a projectile could fly from Point A to Point B and hurt so much. The Captain of the Weather Witch leaped up the central staircase and made it to the upper level of the foyer, Sron following on the otherside. The Gnoll reached the Troll first, cutting a jagged scar in the thing's back with his massive weapon. The Troll let out a guttural sound no human could imitate, and swung its arm back. The Gnoll saw the blow coming, but he hadn't calculated just how long the Troll's arm was and it hit home, sending the Gnoll crashing into the wall. Markus leapt forward, using all of his strength to tear a gash into the Troll's belly. Even using both hands, it was a light tear, though blood did spurt and the thing's entrails poked out like a sack of flesh. Suddenly, a rock from above struck the wall 10 feet over them, causing stone shrapnel to rain down on all three of them. Markus was hit in the cheek and chest and sent to the ground. Sron took little of the blast, but remained in cover for a few moments, unable to see Markus or the Troll through the dust and debris. The blademage shook his head, covering his mouth with his shirt and opening his eyes to see the massive troll standing over him, raising its arms to crush him, and likely the flagstones he lay on. But Markus also saw something else hurtling down the keep, and he rolled to dodge it just as much as the Troll's blow. It was almost comical to see the blank stupidity of the things face when the smaller troll hit the ground right next to it like an anvil, confusing and disorienting the bigger Troll. Markus wasn't about to question his luck, but if he had to guess this was Calliope's doing. Instead he used the distraction and leaped over the squished body, sword leading to skewer the troll in the midsection with his backsword, hair disheveled and shirt ripped from the scuffle. Sron's sword erupted from out of the Troll's chest, and with two swords and a bullethole in it, the beast moaned and flailed weakly, but went down not moments later, leaving an eerie silence to radiate the bottom level. "I'm going to pretend that Troll wasn't for us!" Markus shouted upwards. Thunder roiled, and without warning, a sudden, vast bolt of lightning struck the inner harbor of the keep as the rain began. Slowly at first, but soon it began to hammer down into the keep. Markus was content with moving the guns even then, but when the hail began to hit, he decided it best to stay within the keep and try to weather out the storm. He cursed, wishing there was a second mage onboard to receive psyonic messages or magical signals, but for now they would need to wait within... [hr] [i]One hour later[/i]. They had thoroughly explored the Keep, at least in all of the places that a Troll might be able to fit into. They had looked to be the only two in Wyvernwatch, luckily. The floor plan was simple enough, with the great hall on the bottom floor, the next being the quarters of the retainers, and a Lord and Ladies living quarters above that on the third floor. Next was the central library, where Markus and Calliope had saw fit to remain for the time being after scrounging what items they could. It wasn't a huge enclave of books, but the many bookcases and shelves were lined with various tomes from across the Sea of Swords, and comfortable chairs to sit in as they examined whatever caught their immediate fancy. Grimney, though spooked, hadn't the patience or will to not plunder the stairs above, searching through every nook and cranny to find any jewelry or worthwhile items she might acquire. Markus had been content with a fine lordly attire he now had in his pack, in case he needed to mimic nobility on a heist, or if he was to meet with someone far above his lot in life. That, and a few Gold coins, along with a ring that held a sparkling agate that now rested on his left ring finger. Sron had elected to stay downstairs, claiming he wanted to make sure no more trolls or monsters would enter the keep. Though it was fairly obvious he was plundering the kitchens for anything that might still be edible, and probably things that most humans would think were far out of date. Markus was still on edge, instinctually knowing that whatever had made the keep unlivible would not be trolls. Trolls did not attack manned keeps. They merely entered caverns, or things like them, when they were already devoid of life. Calliope had found some vintage wine, and had elected to share a bit with Markus as they sat in the central reading area of the library. The Captain reading through an old tome on the Age of Nation States and the Wars of Religion and Land many hundreds of years ago. It was still a prevalent topic of today's politics, but it was far more contained with more emphasis on city states and trade, or lack thereof. "What were your plans, before you had to flee your city?" Markus asked, breaking the silence. "If the fine people of Calaverde decided to stay knelt?" He smiled as he spoke the words, obviously giving an air of humor and drama to what was essentially an up-jumped mutiny, as brutal and ill prepared as any on a sailing vessel. [@Penny]