The trolls turned up a stairwell, Smithy and his torch leading the way. Calista went limp as she bounced against Smith’s lumbering bulk. Her head was full of cobwebs. However, not wanting to disturb her carrier, she fought back the urge to yawn. The longer she could eavesdrop on these two the better.

Cresting the stairwell, they entered a much larger room where their footsteps echoed against the distant walls. She could hear Smithey turn his torch this way and that as he asked, “How far do you think Dillard gets this time?”

“I wouldn’t dare to guess,” Smith grumbled. “All I know is that I’m glad it's getting near shift change.”

“She nearly got to the top last time.”

“I know. That’s why I’m glad it's about time for the two of us to clear out.”

“What if he calls us for overtime.”

“Then I don’t answer my phone.”

“You mean just like you did last time?”

“Last time was different.”

“How so?”

She heard Smith snort in indignation and then grumble, “You know, you’re an annoying little bitch sometimes.”

“And you’re a big pompous windbag.”

“This pompous windbag is gonna take that torch from you and shove it up your keister.”

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

The fat troll lurched forward as his partner laughed.

“He knows that if he gets her to ask you that he can get you to do pretty much anything he wants, right?” Smithey asked.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I am saying that if you continue with this line of dialogue then I’m going to cuff you upside the head.”

“I’ll cuff you upside the head.”

Another period of silence. Calista held still and kept her breathing shallow so as not to disturb Smith. The trolls’ footsteps echoed lonely against the great empty space as somewhere in the distance she could hear the sound of running water.

“Are we almost there?” Smith asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Smithey chuckled.

“I would like to know. That’s why I asked you, you donkey.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just as sick of walking as you are.”

“That’s not what I asked you, you ass. I asked how much further it was.”

“And I responded to by saying, ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’”

“Which is why I called you a donkey.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Which is why you’re a donkey.”

“You’re a donkey.”

“Well, you’re an ass.”

A door opened and Smithey said, “Well no matter what we are, we’re definitely both here.”

She felt Smith lumber through a doorway and then grunt. Somewhere, Smithey was lighting other torches with his own.

“When do you think she’s going to wake up?” Smithey asked.

“I dunno. I thought she’d be awake by now.” Smith replied.

The big troll shifted his weight and then trod his way over to a corner where he set Calista down on the ground. She did her best to play dead. Perhaps they will leave now and I can try and figure out my escape.

Then a blast of water struck her in the face and she shot up as she shook and sputtered in surprise.

“Ha! Gotcha bitch!”

Calista rolled over and blinked the water away from her eyes. Standing over her, bucket in hand, was Smith’s humongous figure as it cackled with glee.

“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Smithey said.

“I suppose you thought you were being awfully clever,” Smith said.

“I suppose she did,” Smithey added.

Smith leaned heavily on his staff as he looked down at her with a toothy grin. “Do you think you’re the first unconscious prisoner we’ve ever transported? Or do you think we’re just stupid?”

“Okay, don’t answer that second part,” Smithey said.

Smith turned to his comrade. “Why?”

“I can’t imagine,” Smithey said.

Smith shifted his bulk as he turned back to Calista. “I happen to think we have very intelligent discourse. Personally, I find it to be one of the brighter points of my personality.”

“You have a personality?” Smithey asked.

“Was I asking you anything?” Smith snapped.

Smithey shrugged. “Perhaps you should focus on the prisoner.”

Smith glared at his partner. “I would if you would stop interrupting me. Now … where was I … oh, right, you were trying to play coy.” The big troll wagged a fat finger at Calista. “Now listen here, we’ve been looking for you all day and we appreciate that because we both needed a break from looking for that psychopath you unleashed, but you need to understand that you let something out that wasn’t meant to be let out and now we need you to help us track it down.”

Calista looked from troll to troll. Smith’s bulbous face had a look of intense anger while Smithey appeared merely concerned.

“Untie me and we can talk,” she said.

Smith snorted. “That ain’t happening lady.”

“Well then I’m not talking,” Calista snapped. “If you want my help, you’ll untie me. Until then, shove off.”

Smithey raised an amused eyebrow and looked behind him. “I don’t think she realizes where she is.”

Smith snorted again and stood aside, revealing the room behind him. Shackles hung from the walls, spikes, whips, and chains were mounted on a rack, and an iron maiden sat in the corner. She was in another torture chamber.

Suddenly, she remembered just how it had felt to get stabbed. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

Smith cocked his overlarge head to one side. “Where did the crazy brunette go?”

Calista gulped, “Up the stairs through a secret passage right next to where you found me. There’s a button on the wall.”

Smithey rolled his eyes as Smith sighed and shook his head at his partner. “I told you, that little rat knows this place almost as well as the boss does at this point. Which means she

probably knows it better than we do.”

“And he’s the one who can change things whenever he wants,” Smithey agreed.

Smith gave Calista a questioning look. “So did Dillard stab you or did the other guards get you first?”

“I’m taking it that Dillard is the crazy woman I let out of the other torture chamber?” She asked.

Smithy laughed. “You let her out?”

Smith gave his partner a wry look. “That’s ten to me.”

Smithey groaned. “Doesn’t anyone try and detect alignment anymore?”

She gave him a dry look. “I’m a Delver, I don’t have detect alignment.”

Smithey threw his hands up in the air. “Sense motive then! Basic Perception! Anything!”

Smith gave a toothy grin at his compatriot. “That’s the sixth adventurer that’s let the little bastard out.”

Smithey was incredulous. “I know! Six out of six! Every single one who goes into that room!”

“I still don’t know why the boss keeps it around,” Smith said as he turned back to Calista. “Anyway, which was it? Did Dillard stab you or was it the hot bitches?”

Calista frowned. “I object to the term bitches being used, but yes, it was Dillard.”

Now it was Smithey’s turn to smile. “Five to me.”

“HA!” Smith barked. “I knew it too, I just was just hoping the girls got theirs for once.”

Smithey looked down at Calista. “He’s always cheering for the NPCs.”

“You guys are PCs?” She asked.

“You think a pair of NPCs could be half as clever and charming as we are?” Smith asked.

“Don’t answer that.” Smithey drolled.