My eyes opened.

Am I...?

I felt a sharp pain in my ribs. I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes.

Yes, yes I am.

I opened my eyes again, the pain having subsided. I was alive, that much I knew. What I didn't know was how. My eyes darted from left to right. Everything was still a blur, but I knew that I was no longer under that massive willow. I blinked, trying to focus my vision. Above me was a thatch roof.

Where am I...?

I clenched my teeth, my ribs hurting as I attempted to sit up. I had apparently been resting in some bed. For how long, I did not know. My head hurt and it felt like my brain was pounding against the inner walls of my skull. I looked down to see that I was completely naked. Wrapped 'round my chest was bunch of bandages, all of which were heavily blood-soaked. Whoever dressed my wound did an excellent job. I turned my head and looked around. I was inside what looked like a large hut. The walls were adorned with these odd wooden masks, all of which were painted. Some were decorated with what I believe were feathers from a strider. There was something eerily familiar about these masks, but I was still too light-headed to say what. I did know that I have not once seen thesemasks in particular, however. Resting against a wall on the other side of where I had apparently been convalescing was my armor. It was still caked in blood and the tabard was slightly torn. Next to my armor was my sword, it still in its sheath. My shield was nowhere to be found.

"Well look who decided ta' wake up."

I turned my head to see a woman enter the hut.

No...

Before me was a troll. My eyes caught a brief glimpse of the large wooden masks that adorned the walls. It then finally dawned on me. This was a troll home. "Ya' feelin' any betta' mon?" The troll would ask me. I didn't answer. I only eyed the troll in silence. She wore a very crude, primitive-looking robe that exposed much of her blue skin. 'Round her neck was a tangled mess of necklaces, charms, fetishes, and amulets, most of which were crafted from the bones and teeth of various creatures. In her hand was a long wooden staff that was topped with a skull and had more of those odd trinkets hanging off of it. She had long dark-green braids that spilled over her slender shoulders. Her face was concealed behind a large wooden mask that had been painted to vaguely resemble a skull. I could make-out her tusks, however. They were long. They were sharp. "What be da' matta' mon?" She asked, "Ya' never seen anyone as pretty as me?" She then threw her head back and cackled, striking the ground with her macabre staff. "Da' name be Jin'za. How 'bout you?"

I worked up the courage to answer the troll named Jin'za, me stumbling over each and every word that escaped my lips, "I-I'm Richard. R-Richard C-Caulfield." I was afraid, very afraid. I heard many dark and terrible stories about trolls. I've heard of their twisted magical practices and how they would often devour the hearts of their victims. I've heard tales of shrunken heads and of dark, agonizing curses, of sacrifices to ancient, primal gods and of regenerating limbs. I looked at my sword still resting against the wall behind the troll.

If only I had my sword!

"Well 'den Richard, ya' should be countin' yer' blessins' mon." She approached me, the end of her staff tapping against the floor, "If it weren't for ole' Jin'za, ye'd be crocolisk food mon." I gulped, my eyes meeting hers as they looked down at me from behind that large wooden mask. "Wh-What are you going to do to m-me...?" She leaned forward, her hair pouring over her shoulders, her long, messy braids mingling with the hundreds of trinkets, charms, and amulets that hung 'round her neck. I could feel her warm, putrid breath on my face. She reached for the tip of my chin, and then, in a whisper, said, "It not be what Jin'za gonna' be doin' to ya', but what ya' gonna' do for Jin'za." She turned my head. I could feel her eying my body, sizing me up, and it was making me very uncomfortable. I almost wanted to get away from the troll, but I couldn't. Partly because of my aching ribcage and partly because I was afraid of what this Jin'za might do to me if I tried. "I always be' wantin' a pretty lil' pink-skin to do some work for ole' Jin'za!" She smiled, showing-off those disgusting yellowed teeth. It made my skin crawl. "...But ya' still be plenty hurt mon. You jes' rest for ole' Jin'za and when ya' get ta' feelin' a little betta', I'll have some work for ye'."

What sort of work...?

I then felt Jin'za's hand gliding down my chest before finally settling where she had apparently dressed my wound. She pressed the palm of her hand against my ribcage. I clenched my teeth and instantly shut my eyes, feeling that sharp pain swiftly traveling up my spine. "You jes' relax mon. Let ole' Jin'za take care o' ye'..." I felt an odd warmth near my chest. I opened one eye to see Jin'za's hand glowing. And, as it glowed, the pain was beginning to subside. I was feeling less tense, too, relaxed, even. It felt nice. "'Dere we go. 'Dat should help wit' da' pain for a while. But ya' still need plenty o' rest mon." She pulled the blanket over me in one swift motion. "Sleep well mon, 'cause there be a lot o' work to be done 'round 'ere."

I think I'd rather take my chance with the crocolisks...