Eternity RPC Board
09-13-2016, 11:42 PM
Of course, the anser to that question would have been quite easy, had Elke spent more time in her bestiary classes and less time "frolicking in the meadows," as certain instructors may have put it. While not entirely common knowledge everywhere, certain myths and legends made tell of trolls that, having been outwitted by many a guileful hero, were caught in the sun's burning rays and turned to stone. While the validity of such claims were always in question and it was clearly not a feature of all trolls, they certainly were known as beasts of the night; no doubt the bright light of the sun would prove a painful annoyance, to say the least.
The troll who evidently called himself Waldo, comfortable as he was in his lovely perfumed shoppe with no burning rays of sun to cause him any discomfort, throatily "ah'd" and "hm'd" as Elke related the heartbreaking tale of her loss. The beast regarded the missing clasp in much the same way - or maybe he was regarding her in light of whether or not she would make a good midday meal, it was difficult to tell with trolls - all the while the heavy breath of its hairy nostrils burned a heated vapor upon the exposed skin of her hand as it leaned in slightly to better perform its inspection.
"Yeees, yes," Waldo nodded after a short period of deliberation, the bulb of its nose bobbing with the movement. Whether it somehow didn't notice the girl's haphazard attempts at trying to disguise her desperate search for less fumigated air, or perhaps thought something else of them, it made no action or mention of them either way as it turned to fetch what it thought the best material for the job at hand.
If one was hoping for a stereotypical stay-with-us-for-dinner reply from the two trolls when asked about a place to bed for the evening, apologies are in order, as the fancily-dressed troll made no such remarks. The ladder upon which the beast climbed protested loudly under its beefy mass, but it paid the noise no mind as it scoured the shelving for just the article that it felt would suit its young customer's needs. "Ooh, dear's a b-lace ouith beds, yes, but de name. Aye fworget..."
"Forlag's," grunted the bald troll named Chubb in its gutteral voice without looking up from its handiwork. "Down road."
"Yes, east-ouays to...ah!" The Waldo-troll uttered a noise of triumph from atop its perch mid-explanation. With a flourish if speed and agility that no entity of its size and bulk should possess, it let loose of its feet and performed a free-falling slide down the ladder, ending in a heavy flatfooted ~thud~ that rattled nearby shelves and their contents, despite the drop only having been a few feet. Turning around, it clodded back to where Elke awaited her unneeded merchandise. In one hand it produced a needle and thread of a hue remarkably similar to the color of the pouch. In the other hand, it produced a fine gold-lined clasp inlaid with emerald-like glass in the shape of a single ash leaf.
"A ffine clasp-p for a p-retty lay-dee."
Chubb-troll snorted.
The troll who evidently called himself Waldo, comfortable as he was in his lovely perfumed shoppe with no burning rays of sun to cause him any discomfort, throatily "ah'd" and "hm'd" as Elke related the heartbreaking tale of her loss. The beast regarded the missing clasp in much the same way - or maybe he was regarding her in light of whether or not she would make a good midday meal, it was difficult to tell with trolls - all the while the heavy breath of its hairy nostrils burned a heated vapor upon the exposed skin of her hand as it leaned in slightly to better perform its inspection.
"Yeees, yes," Waldo nodded after a short period of deliberation, the bulb of its nose bobbing with the movement. Whether it somehow didn't notice the girl's haphazard attempts at trying to disguise her desperate search for less fumigated air, or perhaps thought something else of them, it made no action or mention of them either way as it turned to fetch what it thought the best material for the job at hand.
If one was hoping for a stereotypical stay-with-us-for-dinner reply from the two trolls when asked about a place to bed for the evening, apologies are in order, as the fancily-dressed troll made no such remarks. The ladder upon which the beast climbed protested loudly under its beefy mass, but it paid the noise no mind as it scoured the shelving for just the article that it felt would suit its young customer's needs. "Ooh, dear's a b-lace ouith beds, yes, but de name. Aye fworget..."
"Forlag's," grunted the bald troll named Chubb in its gutteral voice without looking up from its handiwork. "Down road."
"Yes, east-ouays to...ah!" The Waldo-troll uttered a noise of triumph from atop its perch mid-explanation. With a flourish if speed and agility that no entity of its size and bulk should possess, it let loose of its feet and performed a free-falling slide down the ladder, ending in a heavy flatfooted ~thud~ that rattled nearby shelves and their contents, despite the drop only having been a few feet. Turning around, it clodded back to where Elke awaited her unneeded merchandise. In one hand it produced a needle and thread of a hue remarkably similar to the color of the pouch. In the other hand, it produced a fine gold-lined clasp inlaid with emerald-like glass in the shape of a single ash leaf.
"A ffine clasp-p for a p-retty lay-dee."
Chubb-troll snorted.