Four trolls all in varying sizes rushed towards the small team, their skin grey like the dull moon that shone not, John and the other men prepared to battle whilst the two women prepared to cast spells, however one of the trolls had come from behind, the Porter laid wake upright tension built from his toes to his head as a shadow hid him, he stared up seeing the slobbering face of it, a troll.
It raised its club, at that moment luke performed a quick sidestep, the club fell and skimmed his arm, the clothes that covered his arm were no more, his skin bleeding and sore, he had not been fast enough.
He screamed out in agony, he twisted his body and began to run, the flooring was steep, unsuitable for free flowing movement, thus he fell, under the gaze of the troll that loomed over him he shacked, a large ball of flame shot towards his direction hitting the troll in the chest, stumbling back the troll grasped his club tighter preparing to strike the ground, the arm the club was grasped in flew towards a nearby wall and blood littered the ground.
The troll died, the fireball shot his ribs inwards, piercing his internal organs, in a last ditch effort he had tried to attack only to be dealt another blow, it slumped and died where it drew.
Luke looked up seeing two figures glaring at him, wide smiled and rosey toned, it was John Casey and his accompanying friend.
text shrouded the vision of the luke and it read a singular word, "run"