Linguistic Challenges
It had been a bad idea from the start. She didn’t trust Trolls, she didn’t even like Trolls. Once bitten, twice shy, as it were. Hmm. Twice bitten, thrice kill on sight? Didn’t have the same ring to it. She kept her hat pulled low, and stuck to the cool shadows the wagon cast on the hard, cracked earth.
Kaz conducted the negotiations. It had taken help from their Goblin contact to make sure Kaz knew what he was supposed to do. Bjorke didn’t want any miscommunications in an operation this delicate. She pulled out a water skin in a vain effort to wash the dust from her mouth. The water trickled down her throat, a few drops spilling down her neck, but only teased with the hint of coolness. And then she heard it. Or… him, rather. A low, guttural laugh.
“Heh heh.”
She lowered the skin, and there he was, grinning stupidly at her, tusks keeping him from closing his mouth. No wonder no one spoke Troll. She glanced at Kaz – he was speaking to three large Trolls, and it seemed like things were going well. Looking back at her ugly admirer, she saw he was now flanked by five buddies. A quiet Orcish curse word escaped her lips. She didn’t take the time to speculate how that particular word sounded very much like its equivalent in Common. She just said the Common word, too, as two more Trolls joined the party.
Hero let out a low growl from his place under the wagon.
“Heh heh.”
They began to spread out, circling her. Kaz had his back to them, and Bjorke could hear his voice rising. So much for it going well. She stood, and spread her hands wide in a friendly gesture. “Hello,” she said in Orc, which prompted hooting and laughter from all the Trolls. She frowned slightly; she didn’t think her accent was that bad.
“Heh heh.”
Bjorke twisted her head, keeping her body square with the advancing Trolls, but wanting to look at Kaz. Her necklace shifted, the heavy stone center pulling it out of the neckline of her shirt. The carved Trollish design on the stone glinted in the bright sun.
The lead Troll barked some words, and she jerked her head back sharply. He was pointing at her, his face no longer taunting, but angry. Grunting in their primitive speech, a murmur went through them. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard her name. She repeated that Common word.
She calculated her odds quickly. Six of them, all fully armed. Of course, how else do you conduct peaceful negotiations? She had her knife at the small of her back, another in her boot. Hero let out another low growl. And Hero, she had him. No problem, she told herself gamely. Five of them… her eyes scanned them, assessing.
Five? She didn’t get the chance to utter that word again, as the Troll jumped her.
