[h3][color=44833C][b]STUR[/b][/color][/h3]
__________

Stur grunted an affirmative in response to the big bull's question. He had had to fight trolls several times before, unfortunately. Wild hill-trolls back in his own lands during his youth, and once, one of Torvelt's own trolls not that far outside of Koprust on one particularly bad job. Aye, it was true that they were big, and ugly, and dumb, but people often underestimated them. They [i]were[/i] capable of playing some tricks - fair deadly ones, even. He was about to tell just that to Gentle when a pair of interruptions grabbed at his attention. 

[i]"Ahoy! Friend coming in!"[/i] 

Stur turned briefly to scan the new arrival. Human, like himself, unless he missed his mark, but one of those from the lands far away from his own, to the west or south. She would have stuck out like a sore thumb in this place, slogging her way through the mud like that, only she seemed oddly comfortable doing it. There was no time to question her, though, as in the next moment the trolls broke though the brush, tearing straight towards their little battle line. 

The suspicious woman, the bull, the dwarf with his loud challenges all faded into a slight background whisper. Stur could only hear the pounding of the trolls' footfalls against the sodden Earth. From this distance, they sounded a great deal like hooves, galloping at full tilt towards his position. A cold shiver ran down his spine briefly as he remembered. 

These were not the regular variety of trolls. In fact, he had never seen abominations against the gods like these before. They almost seemed to be melting before his very eyes, and every step closer the smell of dead things grew stronger. They should not be alive - he knew it in his bones. Something was wrong here, very wrong.

In an instant, the trolls were on them, and the world returned to the mercenary all at once. They split off in front of the battle line, one grappling with Gentle and the other moving to strike out at the shield-bearing Aasimar lad. 

[i]
"It's poison! Don't let them touch you!"[/i] Came the call from behind. Brynan and the dwarf moved into his field of vision, each moving off to attack one of the two trolls in their unprotected flanks. Without hesitating, Stur shifted his focus towards the troll attacking the Aasimar, and its excess of ugly heads. His anticipation and his old fears evaporated into anger, and with a wild war cry he brought the head of his axe down towards one of the bloated, infected necks filling his vision.