I watched somewhat dubiously as Beren cocked back an arm and tossed his hook. Anti-climatically it fell to the ground and he hauled it back and tried again. The second cast succeed, catching in a branch. Beren hauled back twice, making the foliage shake and stiring up a flutter of brightly plumed birds. Beren handed me the rope and I stepped back, getting a grip, then I took a running leap. I sailed out over the water like a pendelum. For a moment I thought I would make it without difficulty, when suddenly there was a huge erruption of water as one of the log things, red jaws yawning open to display finger length teeth, launched itself up at me. Instinctively I kicked out, my boot connecting with its snout with a crack. The force of it struck up through my legs, knocking me off the rope and tumbling me into the shadows on the far side. I hit the water with a splash and rolled up onto the bank, scrambling up onto the bank while the water boiled behind me.

"I'm alright!" I called back, heart thundering in my chest. "I'm alright!"

Beren managed to recover his end of the rope and was pulling it back for his own swing.

"Try not to get eaten!" I encouraged. Beren made the swing without difficulty, the log thing apparently having been discouraged by my accidental kick to its face. He retrieved the rope by whipping it back and forth till the hook fell free.

"Well that was interesting," an accented voice called from the brush. We both turned to see a figure clad in mail of overlapping scales stepping out from behind a violently green bush. He wore a high nosed sphangelhem and faded red cloak. A powerful crossbow was held in one hand, cocked but not pointed. There was  a long bladed cavalry sword at his hip.

"Do you make a habit of beating up crocodiles?"