Re: Fighting a Troll
"Aye Sir Pedivere," the Irish nods and winks, putting his bow aside to draw forth his blade.
The yeoman's steps were virtually silent as he stepped down the bank and waded into the water with the skill of an otter, barely a ripple broke the water's surface where he started in.
The knight, bard, and priest were a different story. Lacking the woodsman's lifetime of living off the land, their possessions, armour, and footfalls rattled, clanked, murmured as they reached the water's edge.
Colm led the way as the others attempted as best they could, to be as quiet as possible.
"'Tis Dark inside," the yeoman murmured quietly, standing off to the side of the entrance.
Although the sun had not set, the trees and riverbank left the area in shadow...