The troll dangles Raven
in the air, shifting him from one hand to another, turning him upside
down, then right side up, turning him round. Every move the troll
makes brings with it the harsh sound of stone grinding into stone,
grating on Raven's ears as much as his nerves. It's hard for him to
get a clear perspective, being manhandled as he is, but he's sure the
creature is well over nine feet tall, and almost as wide.
The troll's leering
grin slowly turns to a frown as it examines its captive, not sure
what it has caught. As it brings Raven closer to its face, it
inhales deeply before a granite tongue emerges from its cavernous
mouth and drags itself across his body.
It's only after the
licking has finished that Raven realises what he had thought was a
rather ornate stone fountain is slowly shifting, uncoiling into a
second troll.
“At Rocknipples 69,”
it says, “Wot you got dere den? Is it a noob?”
