The frog like man looked at Eroan in shock and disbelief. Both its eyes blinking independently and with a slight twitch.

“I, uh, I, yes, he is my traveling companion. He was stung by..”

Eroan said before trailing off. The shock of this creature turning from a panther into a frog still etched upon his face. The frog man shook his head and stomped his webbed left foot on the ground. The swampy ground trembled as if that very stomp was from a creature ten times this ones size. From within the hovel, the ground rolled like a wave with Robateli’s unconscious body atop it. The wave of earth dissipated before the frog man leaving a mound of dirt high enough to resemble a small table in front of him. It dropped the staff it held in its hand and from its side it pulled an obsidian stone dagger, as the motionless body or Robateli rested before him.

“He should no have come!”

The creature raised the blade above its head in a motion to come down upon Robateli, and upon this realization Eroan cried out.

“Wait, no!”

He extended his arm with intention to perform a spell, but stopped short of the incantation as the frogman did not continue. Its arms still raised above Robateli, it looked over to Eroan without turning its head and spoke.

“Will do all can do for this one, but this must be done now before it too late”

And with that the frogman plunged the stone dagger into Robateli’s chest. Green and black blood seeped from the wound. Robateli’s breathing became labored, and he began to cough up the black bile. The frogman left the dagger in the wound and held his blood covered hands above Robateli’s body and repeated himself many times over.

“Galassar síl Adaen, anam na bro! Caith na droch-théine, sgur a díobháil! Slánaigh an ainmhí úr ghon na Kalxod!”

Eroan did not know the words but recognized the language as that of the druids. A people who have deep spiritual ties to the natural world around them, their magic was tied to that of the natural world around them. Although different from the magics that Eroan tapped into, it was just as powerful as it was mysterious.

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The black-green blood that seeped from the wound was replaced with clear blue water. It poured like a fountain from the hole as the druid withdrew the blade. Once more he raised his hand above his head, his hand now the dagger, and the druid drove it into the fountaining hole in Robateli’s chest. Robateli’s eyes opened in a greenish glow, the druids’ eyes glowed with the same green and the area around them was bathed in a blueish glow from the water that had poured from Robateli.

The druid withdrew his hand from Robateli’s chest. An ethereal chain in his hand. He heaved on the chain and began with both hands in earnest, hand over hand pulling the magical chain. Seconds seemed to drag for minutes but the base of the chain was finally at the apex of the wound. Thick black blood was raised to the surface and with one final effort the druid pulled on the chain, and from the hole what appeared to be an arm similar to that of the scythe of a praying mantis emerged, as well as the head and mandibles of the hideous thing. A sharp wale pierced the night from the mandibles of the thing, and in a single action it sliced through the chain and writhed back within Robateli’s chest throwing the druid off balance causing him to fall to the ground.

He quickly rose and drove both of his hands into the wound, Cleary cursing under his breath. The frogman raised his eyes to the sky and his eyes fluttered rapidly. The clouds that were gathered in the drizzling rain grew darker in an instant. A crack of thunder, and in the blink of an eye a lightning bolt descended from the heaves directly onto the druid. The electric discharge surged from his body into Robateli’s.

Eroan took a step forward, every fiber of his being telling him to step in and help, screaming at him to do something, to stop what will most assuredly kill his friend and this druid alike. In that same step, however the surge of electricity ceased, and the clouds grew paler, the rays of the morning sun light now brightening their color ever so slightly.

The druid removed his hands from Robateli’s innards, and he stumbled back, coming to rest at the base of a young willow tree.

“I did all I could, it up to friend now. It would have been easier to kill this one, this may not have done him favors”

The druid croaked.

“Come, help me carry him back to stump. My mana is used up. He and my need to rest. You watch, you protect.”

Eroan did as requested, helping the frogman carry Robateli’s unconscious body back within the hovel. He tended to the fire once more and sat down beside his friend opposite the druid who lay sideways on the ground, his head in the mud looking back toward Eroan and Robateli.

“Thank you, druid, for your help.” Eroan started but was interrupted with a raised wrist from the creature.

“Don’t thank me yet…he may yet pass. It is up to him now, failed in removing the parasite, it already a strong hold on the troll. My only able to contain the thing. Damage and contain the thing. The frog man said softly. It took the raised wrist and turned it inward and patted itself on the chest.

“Truglox I am. Druid yes, of these lands. To prevent what this one has become.”