[Child of the 7th Age]

Returning directly to his camp, Ned had dumped the bag down near the front entrance of the cave and then gone outside to stoke up the fire. He threw a handful of twigs on the smouldering heap of ashes, and fanned the golden embers by gently blowing air through his pursed lips until tiny tongues of flame lept up and began burning brightly.

Perched atop a massive log that stood near the fire, Ned held out his hands to warm them and briefly debated whether he should go to the trouble of preparing a pie or stew, or try something easier. Hunger got the best of him. That, and an instinctive craving to kill something. Something fast would have to do. Perhaps an appetizer of raw flesh, following by a Dwarf or two skewered on a stick and roasted over flame.

With this decision made, he retreated towards the cave and lifted up the bag, making sure that it was still tied securely with a knot. He could hear a grunt or two coming from within, and saw that at least one captive was vainly thrashing about in an effort to get free. Ned smiled broadly at the thought of the Dwarf's discomfort and the grim end that awaited the fellow in just a few minutes.

Holding the bag over his head, the Troll propelled his arm back and forth till the sack swung around in broad circles. He intended to dash it several times against a large boulder until all signs of life had been extinguished. Then he'd sit down near the fire and enjoy the remainder of the evening.

Approaching the rock with the bag slung over his back, Ned turned around in surprize as he heard an omenous sound coming from behind the bushes on the very edge of camp. Clutching his precious bag tightly under his arm, the Troll ran towards the place where he'd hear the noise. He peered out into the darkness, with his sack in one hand, and a heavy club in the other, waiting to see if anything moved.