"Yes, let's," Amal said, trying to make himself sound even more foreign than he already did speaking riekspeil. The handsome thief was never a good rider (in certain ways) but he managed to keep his horse from cantering off into the woods, doing his best not to curse in Arabyan whenever the horse did something unexpected. 

He felt better now that they had dismounted, even if that still kept them on level ground with their soon-to-be-pursuers. He tried to carry himself with a detached air, but seeing Emmaline stepping over gnarled branches had him holding his hand out to her. When she took it, he would help her over whatever marred their path like a gentleman, not a care in the world on his face, save for his companion and lover. Emmaline suddenly tripped, Amal catching her easily. 

"What are we doing?" She whispered to him, and he understood her trip was merely a way to speak to him. 

"Trust me." He breathed, giving her a wry smile.

"No tracks as of yet, herr Baba." Vandershute said lightly, though anyone with sense could hear a forecoming pronouncement in his voice. Amal shrugged casually, turning back to continue walking, not even deigning to look at the guards as the small troupe traversed the woods. As it were, the group passed by a pretty, stone dotted creek and the forest grew thicker about them until their path was blocked by a murky pond that fed into a small tributary, likely leading to the riek itself a dozen or so miles away. After half an hour of walking, Vandershute halted them and turned around, clearly bored of this entire fiasco. 

"I think we've gone far enough." He said, raising a hand with a finger pointedly gesturing in a circle through the air. His men-at-arms clearly had been drilled enough to know that meant they should draw their swords and level their spears. Emmaline clung to Amal, and before she could cast any magic or make any claims, Amal clamped his hand over her mouth, tossing a stone from the creek up and down with his other hand. Adolf Vandershute continued. "It seems you just delight in trying my patience. Do you have any last words?" 

Amal tossed the rock into the pool lazily, like he was bored of the entire walk. 

"I do." Amal proclaimed easily as the men circled Emmaline and he. "Are all northmen this ugly, or did we get the shit end of the stick?"

Emmaline and Amal had a very clear, conside view of the pond waters barely sending a ripple as a long, mutated arm. It's muscled form as thick a man's torso, snaked out of the murk of the pond and raised over one of the men like an otherwordly cobra. It was almost difficult to watch, but it was what Amal had planned on all along. Meanwhile, Adolf Vandershute's eyes blazed in anger, though a wicked almost-smile creased across his face, his mustache spreading like a plague. "You vile sun baked dog...you have no sense of self preservation, I take it. Much like the rest of your heathen kind-" 

His insult was stopped short by a slosh of the water. The others turned and saw a man missing from their ranks, the water now quieting once again eerily. Moments later, a helmet and sword floated to the top of the water, as if the guard had simply been plucked from their very reality. 

"Rolf?" One of the fellows called, just as Amal slowly backed away with Emmaline. The cry from the man grew more urgent, likely worrying on a friend. "Rolf!?" 

The pond exploded with foul water and fallen reeds, sending the men scattering to the ground and soaking Adolf in the entirety of his stately dress. He coughed out swamp water, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief hurriedly, clearly his vision to bear witness to the River Troll looming over him, Rolf's legs sticking out of its gullet. Amal covered Emmaline's eyes and continued to back away, a look of 'let's not stick around' on his face as the men screamed and scrambled to get their fallen weapons. The troll swallowed rolf's other half like some freakish toad, not noticing when a solder embedded his spear into the thing's belly. It answered with a rumble from its throat that was subsequently followed by acidic bile launching out of the thing's maw, melting two men on the spot. 

Now dozens of feet away, Amal picked Emmaline up off her feet, crouched low as he snuck her away. 

"How did you..." She asked. 

"You were sleeping when we flew into town." He told her, his smile turning into a fierce grin. "I saw a few trolls south of Delbertz. I knew if we got in their path, one would show up. Now I vote we go to the next town." 
[@Penny]