[Center][H3][colour=2F4F4F][b]Gentle[/b][/colour][/h3][/Center][hr]

The day was going bad enough without throwing the stink of rotting meat into the mix. Gentle thumb a soaking forelock out of his eyes, wondering if he could get away with plugging his nostrils with grass when he noticed the pony's terrified looking stance. Rotting meat doesn't scare horses. He took several more deep sniffs, but couldn't work out what the stink belonged to.

[b][i]"Gentle! Please tell me that's not what Minotaur shite smells like!" [/i][/b] The dwarf distracted him. He was still trying to lock onto the queer scent when he responded absentmindedly [color=2F4F4F]"Only after we eat dwarves. The rest of the time the scent is quite pleasant"[/color], shortly after that someone yelled troll, and Gentle's humour soured even more.

He'd never met a troll before. Had never wanted to. By all reports they had a worse reputation than Minotaur's, which was akin to winning an award for sheer bastardy. He'd heard they were hard to kill. He guessed he was about to find out just how true that was. 

[i]Kill[/i]. By the God's, he'd really hoped he was finished with killing, but it looked like this old bull still had to put down a few more matadors. Wasn't like he could still get this quest finished and do the God's proud while being digested in a trolls gullet, and if he'd heard right diplomacy rarely worked with these monsters. 

He gripped his staff tight - not quite willing to draw the sword on his back yet, still scared of the 'taur he became when that hilt was in his hand - and stepped forward to stand alongside the human, on the opposite side of the dwarf. The little bastard was screaming out taunts, and Gentle couldn't help but respect him for it. His hoof stamped in the dirt a couple of times while he tried to quell what he told himself was fear, but he actually knew was excitement. 

[color=2F4F4F]"You fight these things before?"[/color] He asked the axe-wielding human. Frail he might be, but he at least looked experienced, and handled that axe like a veteran. Gentle wouldn't like to sip from the same cup as him, but he trusted the man could fight. [color=2F4F4F]"They like to set traps?"[/color] He gestured off to their right. There was a riot's worth of noise coming from the left, but while Gentle knew next to fuck all about trolls, he had some experience with ambushes. If he was in the attackers position he'd make a lot of noise from one side, while assaulting silently from the other. Nothing wins a battle quite as fast as making the other guy look in the wrong direction while you stabbed him in the back.