I've decided to sit down and just write out a quick thing for fun. Who knows how long it'll take.
Off i go!
Tristan felt the leather of his cloak; it was moldy and scarred from use. The ground felt hard even through what was left of his armor and he could feel the blood leaking from every cut he'd taken.
His day was not going well.
Hours before Tristan was sitting in the tavern, enjoying some dwarven ale the Leaky Tap was famous for. Next to him was Dirk, his long time companion and cohort in all things juvenile. Tristan downed enough alcohol to kill anyone not used to the Leaky Taps staple dwarven beer.
"Another, barkeep. I need my nourishment." From across the bar slid a massive drink, cold liquid slopping over the sides as Tristan leaned back and downed it in one gulp.
Dirk watched in silence, sharpening his favorite dagger. Its sheen was bright and exceptionally clean, his name oddly befitting this habit. The din of the tavern kept everyone relaxed and chatty, a good sign for adventurous types like Tristan.
Outside, the road leading to town was quiet. Tristan walked out, letting the oak door slam loudly behind him. But something wasn't right; his sixth sense for danger that had kept him alive countless times was causing the hairs on the back of his neck to tingle in anticipation. Even his breath seemed to move slower in the chill night air. Tristan kept his hand on his sword, just in case.
Thinking back, he imagined that perhaps going outside was a poor choice of action.
Almost on cue, he heard the snap of thick branches. The cracks were loud, and he knew these were no ground twigs. These were the thickest branches of the tall trees surrounding the Leaky Tap.
Something very big was coming.
Tristan turned around and rushed through the door into the tavern, his entrance silencing everyone present. He looked around the room with a face that told everyone all they needed to know: ready yourselves.
The crashes grew louder as men and women, most adventurers themselves, grabbed swords, armor and sharpened weapons in the precious moments they had before whatever it was came stomping into the road separating the tavern from the forest. Dirk looked on and smiled; he loved battle, reveled in it, and was ecstatic that this time, the fight had come to him.
Tristan had few words of encouragement, but told them what he could.
"From what I can tell," he began, "it is incredibly large. It's possible we're looking at a troll, being that we're far from the roaming grounds of giants. Understand this: we work together, but stand alone. If any of you make a fatal mistake, i will not sacrifice myself to save you. IF this is a troll, and from what i know, an immensely large one, it's slime will corrode whatever you use against it. Avoid its mouth at all costs. Do you understand?" They all nodded in solemn agreement, several looking to those beside them. The scrubs were shaking slightly, but knew that the veterans of excursions into the wild, others like Tristan, knew what to do. All in all, they seemed prepared.
Tristan led the rabble outside and even through the loud crashes of trees and the shaking of teh very ground they stood on commanded them into simple formations. He hoped not too many would die today; he wanted the Leaky Tap to stay in business.
Everyone was standing in ready positions around the tavern when the sounds ceased. Tristan saw a half elf relax and stand, smiling. "NO! Don't move!" But it was already too late.
A tree trunk swung down across the road. It was massive, feet across and incredibly long, easily able to reach the half elf. He was too slow to react, those next to him tumbling out of the way as he was crushed beneath its weight. A bloody red and white pulp remained and a stench emanated from where the roots of the tree should be.
A massive, deformed foot covered in bulbous deformities slammed onto the road. The trees on either side bent and twisted, and the largest troll Tristan had ever seen lumbered into view.
Hmm, i quite like where this is going. I'll leave this here, and continue later. Enjoy!