Jake grumbled something impolite while Jason laughed, shoulders shaking against mine.
“Careful, Archer,” Jason said. “Dud is very sensitive about his feet.”
“Dud should try soap,” Jake muttered.
Rowan steepled his fingers. “The Cave Troll blinks at the arrow. Dirt rains down his shoulders as he peers at you. There is a moment of silence. He opens his mouth. What does he say, Dud?”
Jason sat back like he was about to give a TED Talk. He thought for a full three seconds. “Dud say… hello,” herumbled. “Dud like your shiny bow. Dud also like worm. Dud will remember his sacrifice.”
Andrew snorted into his hand. I tried not to smile and immediately failed.
Rowan nodded gravely. “Remarkable. The Cave Troll speaks Common. Paladin, what do you do?”
I cleared my throat and pushed up my glasses. “I step between the Archer and the Cave Troll,” I said. “Shield raised. Just in case.”
Jake frowned at his sheet. “I do not need a babysitter,” he said.
“In character, Archer,” Rowan reminded him.
Jake rolled his eyes. “Fine. I lower the bow a little. Only a little.”
Andrew lifted a hand. “Druid here. I cast Speak with Animals and thank the undead bird for its service,” he said. “Also, I want to see if Dud has any moss growing on him that I can harvest.”
Jason slapped his palm to his own chest. “Dud absolutely has moss. Dud is very proud of his ecosystem.”
Rowan covered his mouth to hide a laugh. “You approach the Cave Troll. The smell intensifies.”
Jason leaned over the table and sniffed his own arm for effect. Warmth radiated off his shoulder, and pine and detergent threaded through the air. “You get used to it,” he said.
“Never,” Jake murmured.
“I address the Cave Troll,” I said. “Greetings, stranger. We seek the Grieving Tower. Do you mean topass, or do you mean to hinder us?” The line sounded much cooler in my head. Out loud, it came with a hint of squeak.
Jason looked at me with open delight. “Dud like shiny knight,” he said in character. “Dud has no plan. Dud goes where rocks point.”
“Insight check,” Andrew said, already reaching for his dice.
Rowan waved him down. “The Cave Troll is an open book. He is either incapable of lying or incapable of thinking ahead long enough to make it worth the effort.”
Jason gasped in offense. “Dud very offended. Dud plans things. Dud once planned to pee before long journey.”
Jake finally cracked a laugh. He tried to bury it in a cough, but we all heard it.
“Right,” Rowan said. “Paladin, you sense no evil intent, only a very pungent mix of sweat, moss, and stubborn loyalty to whoever gives him the most snacks.”
Jason jabbed a thumb at the cheese platter. “Dud has already chosen his leader.”
“Not me,” Jake said quickly.
I looked at my sheet. My Paladin had taken an oath of devotion three campaigns ago. Apparently, that destiny included a smelly Troll. “I offer him a piece of dried fruit from my rations,” I said. “In exchange for his aid.”
Jason’s eyes lit up. It was theatrical and ridiculousand somehow completely sincere. “Dud falls to his knees,” he declared without waiting for Rowan. “Dud swears mighty oath to protect fruit knight. Dud will crush enemies. Dud will block arrows. Dud will not fart near him. Much.”
Rowan lifted both hands. “Noted. A new bond is formed. Archer, your party just adopted a Cave Troll.”
Jake shook his head, but there was a smile he could not quite hide. “If he steps on me, I’m shooting him.”
“Dud will never step on shiny Archer,” Jason said. “Dud will step on skulls instead.”