The land is broken, twisted, the path treacherous, and the troll they pursue all too well suited to it. Aldaron immediately realises catching the troll will be more difficult than he imagined.
He dashes from rock to rock, fearful at first of ambush from the gully's steep sides. His apprehension drops when the tower emerges in the distance, though his fear of what awaits them only grows in consequence. With Nór weighed down by his armour, Aldaron quickly catches up to him, closing briefly on their prey (ATHLETICS: Success).
The troll must be making for the tower... It is too obvious a target not to be what he seeks.
Who knows what awaits them in there?
"Whatever happens," he says between breaths, "if we don't run it down before it reaches the tower, we turn back, agreed?"
He hopes Nór sees the sense of it. As much as he fears for Thomas, hurling themselves piecemeal against unknown foes secure in a fortified location would be worse than foolhardy.
Fortunately, the troll isn't hard to pursue, even on the rocky ground. Wherever it sets foot on softer earth, its massive bulk crushes an impression; on the rocks, flecks of thick black blood speak of the wound Nór left, or his arrow. (HUNTING: Success.)
"This way, Nór." He grabs his friend's arm, tugging him aside into the eastern wall of the gully. Here, he can see the troll had to veer west, keeping to the shadow to avoid the dying sunlight. It affords them a brief opportunity to make ground by cutting through the lit area (HUNTING: Great Success).
Once they make the far side, Aldaron pushes ahead in a sprint. The troll is closing fast on his destination. It may be Thomas's last chance (ATHLETICS: Success).
OOC: Four chances. Three successes and a great success.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:31, Tue 19 Mar.