Xandilif the Banshee started down into the darkness. In one hand she held a dwarvish lantern, in the other, her blade SilverWand. The massive greatsword seemed to weigh nothing at all as it rested on her armored shoulder, the light of the lantern bouncing crazily as she walked.
She turned and looked back up the way she had come, uneven stairs of brutal red stone trailing up into the darkness as far as the eye could see. Looking back the way she was going, just more stairs, receding down into the pitch blackness.
The elleth sighed then spat. "I fecking HATE Seregost. More gordamn steps then a halfling trying to kick pipeweed. I hate this so bad I could puke cherry flavored balrog snot."
She continued, her armor rattling as she went down stair after stair. After some time, she stopped again and spoke as if continuing a conversation with the blackness around her. "Alright, I don't HATE Seregost...I'm sorry about that, don't get all clenched up over that......I just hate steps. Give me a damn pestilent swamp or field of blood any day...long as it ain't got no fecking STEPS."
She rattled down a few hundred more steps. Stopping and leaning against a wall darkened by soot and mold, the Banshee spoke to the darkness again. "This is all Faeron's fault, the pissy little bastard. Never trust a fecking ranger, there ain't a whore nor casual bride from here to Minas Tirith don't know that simple fecking truth.. I just had a simple question...you know of any strange research going on in that Flappin' Bitch's workshops? I asked. He was supposed to say "Why NO Ma'am I gordamn do NOT"...instead he sends me after a fecking kobold. A KOBOLD I TELL YOU. I should have flayed Faeron alive and used his hair as a damn ale rag. I hate gordamn rangers...."
Far below, a high pitched scream echoed up to the Champion and she sighed, clattering down the steps more quickly until she arrived at a landing. Beyond the archway she could see rows of alchemical gear, lit by an eerie red glow. The scream echoed again, also from beyond the archway, babbling in several different tongues seemingly at random, finally falling on Westron..."HELP GIVE TO ME PLEASE THANK YOUUUUUUU!!!!!!".
Xandilif, Champion of Dol Amroth, Warden of the Planes of Golgoroth, Last Sentry of Caerfella Redoubt, Silverwand's Slut and knight extraordinary to Princess Lothiriel of the Azure Sea clattered through the archway, beholding endless columns of strange, bubbling vats. She had been here several times before of course, but things seemed more active then she remembered. Maybe Faeron had been right. Of course part of that sense of activity may have been due to the Troll, standing at the edge of the vats, holding a squirming kobold by one leg as he considered how best to eat it. The screaming was coming from the kobold.
Xandilif hated trolls even more than stairs. She planted her feet and shouted "HEY...NUMBNUTS...WAIT ONE DAMN MINUTE!!!" in Orcish. The Troll stopped in confusion, trying to make sense of Xandilif's accent...but still held onto the Kobold.
Xandilif poked the swinging Kobold with the point of SilverWand. "You...Greenboy...your name Reznik?"
The swinging Kobold squealed and nodded frantically, still screaming. "REZNIK IS US...NO, ME...REZNIK IS MEEEEEE"
The Champion nodded and poked him again. "Faeron, a Ranger with a shite eating grin and the beard of a 4 year old girl said you might have been doing work on some smelly old projects of Lhaereth's they broke up recent. That true?"
The Kobold shrieked, afraid that the Troll would stop thinking at any moment and go back to eating. "YYEESSSSS....NIK BARRELS DID MOVE AND BOXES DID CARRY AND SMELLIES DID SMELL...NIK LOAD UP BATS WAVE BYEBYE....BYEBYE..."
Xandilif nodded again. "So you got a good idea what they was doing while the fecking rangers sat up there and smoked and ogled Merrivail teats and looked pleased with their damn selves that they didn't have to climb down these FECKING stairs, yes? If so I might have some use for ya as something other then troll snack, ya follow me"
The Troll was licking it's lips again and the Kobold shrieked. "YYYEEESSSS....WATCH NIK DID...LEARNNNNN NIK DID...NIK BIGTIME TOTAL SMARTIE WHO NO TROLL SNACKIES...ME IS DOOOCCTTTOORRRRRRR!!!!!"
The elleth nodded once more. "And you are gonna help me and my friends out with some stuff or do I let Galadriel's new Boyfriend here eat ya?"
Reznik wailed even louder. "NO LET GALADRIBLES BOY EAT DOCTOOORRRRR NIK!!!!!"
SilverWand slashed downward in a sparkling arc, severing the troll's arm at the elbow like a dwarf being thrown through a wall of whipped cream. The Kobold, still being held by the disconnected part of the troll, hit the ground hard, stunning him as the troll looked around trying to understand why it's arm was suddenly shorter.
Xandilif cleared her throat and set her feet, SilverWand at the ready...and the troll understood what must have happened. It was not at all happy. Lifting it's massive war club with it's remaining hand, the troll bellowed, the sound causing many of the beakers on the tables around the workshop to shatter and the floor to shake. It swung the club over it's head, the passage of the weapon causing a wind to blow through the workshop.
As the club reached it's highest point, Xandilif stepped forward and kicked the troll hard in the midsection with one steel boot, knocking the wind out of it. Resisting the urge to double over, the troll instead lost control of the massive club above its head, and without forward momentum the weapon pulled the creatures center of gravity backwards, causing the enormous beast to topple back into one of the bubbling vats.
An acidic hiss filled the room as the troll was bathed in the glowing green liquid stored in the vat, then began to dissolve with pops and splutters. In 15 seconds it was all over, the thin green liquid now a thicker, vivid red goo.
Xandilif nodded to herself and untangling the kobold from the troll hand, tossed the appendage into the vat as well. Then she bound the kobold's hands and feet and shoved the still stunned Reznik into a burlap sack. "Fine, we gots a deal now greenboy. You are coming with me."
Stepping out to the landing the champion looked up at the endless line of steps awaiting her on the way out and spat. Turning, in the dawning light from the windows she saw that in the opposite direction, the long passage towards a lookout was being patrolled by a couple dozen or so Uruk.
The Champion shrugged. "Should be an easy climb down..." and walked toward the Uruks, spinning SilverWand lazily in one hand.
