Out of all the things that could have struck my mind, the idea that the sticks forming an arrow in the direction of the blood-trail being anything other than a trap was not one of them.

The blatant challenge for an approach either meant that whoever, or whatever that had kidnapped my 'friends', either were too lazy to carry me or they enjoyed messing with me. I was not sure of which though. Is it still considered kidnapping, if the kidnapped is an adult? adult-napping? Yeah ok, adult-napping.

On one hand, if the foe was friendly enough to leave my directions for my friends, who was I to decline.

On the other... they could just be severely messing with me.

I looked at the blood-trail, a few drops, not much, but enough to be clearly visible. it looked dried, most likely it had been there for a while.

I could have been marching to my premature death, but would abandoning my friends ensure my survival, All I would be doing is dropping all the support that I could have and essentially going by myself. Judging by the lack of yelling for help that was non-precent in my immediate area, I decided to follow the arrow, and blood-trail.

I have no idea for how long I walked, but it couldn't have been long, the early morning sun was still low in the sky. I followed the arguably easily followed trail of my friends and their would-be captors. The blood had stopped, but the arrows of tiny sticks were still prominent. What adult-napper, would leave a trail? unless Alfred and Clara just wandered off and decided not to wake me. That was also a very real possibility... what dicks. Either way I continued the march.

Soon I spottet a building inbetween all the piles of rubble, not a massive skyscraper or anything, more like a stone-Igloo if anything, made of piled rocks that were built in arches. The arrows of sticks led me towards the building.

"Anyone there!", I shouted in my 'manly man' voice toward the building, hopefully intimidating whoever thought to adult-nap my friends.

Of course the stone-igloo being a building incapable of comprehending, much less even hearing whatever I said, didn't respond.

Someone who might be inside responded though.

"Cole, shut the hell up!", definitively Clara, judging by the cussing and the girly voice.

"Glad to hear you too Clara!", always a treat with clara. So friendly.

Something not so friendly though, might be the larger than average, ugly looking fellow who stepped out of the stone-igloo. He then proceeded to grab rocks the size of my head, one in each hand, and they looked like billiard-balls in his hands. Definitively larger than the average man, If I had to place a name for him, I'd have to say Richard, but If I had to place a name for the species I'd have to say troll.

Richard the Troll, such a happy fellow.

A rock narrowly misses my head by an arms-lenght, my body being longer than an arms length, naturally got hit...

didn't say it missed, only that it missed my head. it hit my lower stomach. thankfully nothing too important was there, although a very peculiar pain could be felt in my appendix.

Richard the Troll, not so much a friendly fellow.

I got to my feet before another rock got the chance to hit me again.

Then another rock hit me again... in the same spot. This time the pain spread from my appendix to the rest of my bowels. thankfully, bowels being bowels were soft tissue, not easily tearing, At least I didn't feel any broken bones.

This time I scrambled to my feet, and actually tried getting away from Richard before he got to throw another rock at me. Richard being Richard took it upon himself to throw more rocks, some the size of my chest. Thankfully it seemed the two first rocks hitting were the result of dumb luck. The rest of the rocks he threw would be the equivelant of a kid guessing random numbers, hope he doesn't get yours. I began to climb a rock-pile trying to get some sort of cover from the Troll. Hoping to climb over the hill as best as I could. The Troll seeing this threw more rocks, like trolls do.

I got over the top of the hill, and slid down the other side.

Richard the Troll saw what appeared to be in his mind, the tiny troll-like man sinking into the top of the rock-pile.

Richard thinking this to be his chance walked over to the pile the man 'sunk' into, and began smashing the pile with his fists. "The man would definitively be dead after this." was most likely what Richard thought about as he smashed and dug in the pile.

I walked slowly around the pile and towards the stone igloo that the troll appeared from, being quiet as to not attract attention. The troll being as trolly as it could was using all his limited focus on smashing and digging in the pile that I climbed over.

I entered the Igloo, nothing to guide me other than my fear of the troll, and the shouting of Clara.