3. Bittercreek to Troll Bridge (action)

[Squid]

Wraith

"Agreed. Let's see what the trolls are up to."

[GreyWolfVT]

Grax chuckles "Yeah that's what I was thinkin, I'd like ta take a crack at some trolls."

[tibbius]

Next morning you set out from the town of Bittercreek, leaving its salty inhabitants just as you found them.

You have your minds fixed on the Trollbridge that carries the trade route over Gasping Chasm. You've heard of it before, but avoided it on your way north to investigate the Ancient General's Tomb - you took the arduously muddy lowland toll-evading route.

Do you do anything in particular on your way south through the mountains?

You notice that Elzarune has vanished during the night.

[Rex]

Sealgair

Sealgair will look/sniff around and see if she can find Elzarune's trail.

Smell [1d6] = 6 [1d6] = 1 [1d6] = 3

[GreyWolfVT]

Grax wonders where Elzarune got off to in the night.

[ybn1197]

Before long, Elzarune returns to the others. "My most sincere apologies my friends. I needed time to think on my own. The business we left behind us unfinished at Bittercreek has me concerned. While I think we did the right thing as any involvement we took would only be temporary, it still does not sit well with me."

[GreyWolfVT]

Grax grins glad to see Elzarune again "Yeah I agree wit ya. But dunno what we coulda done. We aint union reps er nothin."

[tibbius]

Going to assume you re-provisioned etc. before leaving Bittercreek.

"Still," says Elzarune's armor abruptly, "it's a terrible situation there, the workers being exploited and so on. Though, who knows, you only heard one side of the story ..."

The armor has a pleasant soprano voice. On its chest, the engraving has changed to the face of an elfin woman of indeterminate age, wild-haired. The face's lips move as the armor speaks.

[ybn1197]

Elzarune back-pedals, nearly falling onto his backside. "What the hell?!"

[Rex]

Sealgair

Sealgair leans in and sniffs the armor. "Umm, whats this?"

[tibbius]

The armor giggles. "I'm Nuala Smith," it answers. "Maker of this armor, died of a broken heart, now I ... haunt it, I guess?"

[Squid]

Wraith

Looking at the armor in disbelief, "Nuala, I'm pleased to meet you?"

[GreyWolfVT]

Grax eyes the haunted armor "Eh? So...yer haunted armor then?"

[Rex]

Sealgair

"Haunted armor, strange."

[tibbius]

"Well, don't mind me so much, I'm just along for the ride," says the armor cheerfully. "Sometimes I speak my mind, is all. Also, if there's a dangerous situation, I tend to glow a little. Or hum. I get nervous before battle." The face pouts. "Try to get the dings out, is all I ask. Anyway - I'll let you be now!"

The face dissolves into a static scene of four people battling with some sort of shambling rotten abomination in a room filled with haybales.

[ybn1197]

Elzarune looks down skeptically at the armor he is wearing. "I'm hoping the dangerous situation she refers to is more like a preternatural sense. But at least, I think, the depiction is of us in the barn." He pauses a moment before saying "I suggest we keep moving. I doubt the troll will be polite enough to wait for us to slay him."

[Rex]

Sealgair

"Trolls are never polite in the stories for sure."

[tibbius]

It takes more than a week to traverse the mountain trade road toward the troll bridge.

Along the way, you encounter wayside inns each night. The road is moderately busy, and in each smoky beer-scented common room you encounter merchants and travelers, boisterous or quiet. After the first couple nights you begin to discern "types." Here was the lone swordsman with the enigmatic mien, there the eloping forbidden lovers, there the contented merchant with his or her mule train trooping the road, and here again the simple worker family relocating in search of better opportunity. Most of the northbound ones complain about the steep toll on the troll bridge when you ask them; most of the southbound ones are concerned whether they'll have coin enough to pay.

Each evening as you get closer to the bridge, the complaints and concern grow more poignant.

The morning before the bridge, you wake up early and eat a light breakfast. Then it's on the road again, with travel-aching feet and weary backs under the gradually lessened load of your gear.

About mid-day you reach the Gasping Chasm, where the near-constant wind between the cliffs sends up a heavy wheezing sound. A shallow arch of tight-fitted stone spans the gap of more than a hundred yards. The bridge is about thirty feet wide. Scaffolding hangs from one side of it, and a couple of trolls appear to be working on the scaffolding. A trollgate stands at the foot of the bridge. Three trolls lounge on hefty Adirondack chairs next to the gate. There is a queue of travelers waiting to pay the toll. You are twelve or fifteen back in the line.

What do you do?

[GreyWolfVT]

Grax "So uh what exactly was tha plan? We gonna pay tha toll or just attack them trolls eh?"

[Rex]

Sealgair

"Maybe we go through the line and see what happens when we refuse to pay?"