Jocasta tried not to look at Beren. That wasn't difficult seeing several hundred pounds of angry troll actively blocked her view. The cavern they were in was only an antechamber to the troll's true lair. On one side the floor dropped vertiginously into a chasm that plunged away far below. The distant roar of what might have been water or might have been wind could be hard from that black abyss.

"Tell!" the Qwarath roared, pounding his fist against the ground in frustration and spraying up pieces of crushed bone. Blood began to run from the troll's paw but other than licking at the minor wounds with his improbably long tongue he seemed to pay it no mind.

"Ok, ok, I'll tell," Jocasta said hurriedly, sucking in air through her bruised lungs. She searched her mind for some kind of lie that would prolong her life a few minutes.

"Thurgim Hammerson is dead, but the thing he stole from you was lain in his tomb," she said quickly. The ledgend was a very old one and while she had no idea how long dwarves lived, she supposed it wasn't thousands of years.

"Deeeaadd," Qwarath growled. He hopped around in an agitated circle, fortunately not noticing Beren.

"Where is this tomb she-man!" the troll demanded, then lifted his muzzle to the roof and howeled something that sounded like 'Grup' in a voice so loud it shook dust from the ceiling. It was only then Jocasta realized that the blood and the hopping hadn't simply been animal agitation. A presence took form in the room between Jocasta and Qwarath. It was shadowy and indistinct, but massive and vaguely troll shaped. Jocasta could taste the sent of bison on the air, feel the blood of the great beast in her mouth, hear the soft rustle of grass that camouflaged a troll before it pounced for the kill.

"Grup!" Qwarath roared, and two coals of fire seemed to spring into being in the head of the shadowy thing. It reared into immensity, roaring so loud that the force of it physically knocked Jocasta to the ground. It was Grup, the Troll God of the Hunt. It wasn't really the God, it was a shadow of the real entity, an avatar summoned to answer the priests call. At least Jocasta very much hoped that was the case. Even the shadow was enough to make her skin cold and her guts quiver. Qwarath pounded the floor again, bloodying his other knuckles.

"Grup says you speak the truth, tell me where this tomb cave can be found she-man, and I shall hunt for the Heart of Gnarr!"

"Yeah.... like... in the dwarf stronghold?" Jocasta said, her throat suddenly very dry.

"False scent..... and you are hunted foolis cub!" the god thing beside Qwarath roared in outrage. Jocasta had a moment to wonder how she could hear the Troll God speak in the Common tongue before Qwarath wheeled around to glare back at Beren. At the same time he flicked out one of his enormous arms and backhanded Jocasta. She just had time to begin to lift her hand when the blow landed. One of the charms she wore on a necklace burned hot as a spell designed to protect her from a blunt strike fired. It had originally been designed to prevent any of her creditors from cracking her with a kosh but the troll's open handed fist was orders of magnitudes more powerful. The spell disintegrated and the charm flew apart in chunks of glowing metal. Jocasta was lifted off her feet and flung across the cavern out over the abyss. Her flight turned her a half circle so she was upside down when she hit one of the vast stalactites which hung from the ceiling, an ancient core of metal and mineral salt that had resisted the millennia of erosion. By instinct her arms wrapped the stone as it drove the breath from her lungs.

"Beren!" she bleated in panic, as she began to slip down the rock, its surface coated with mineral oil and moisture. She made a last desperate grab and then plunged into the black abyss below.