Many adventurers travel the world for fame, glory, riches, and other things. One such group of adventurers includes the apprentice mage Squeaks, her warrior friend, Luna, and a couple of friends they gathered from the guild hall.
Their mission this time around? Take on a troll terrorizing the countryside, eating livestock, imposing tolls, and being a nuisance.
“I don’t care if he’s a giant!” Says Luna, the little mousefolk holding her hands to her hips. “I can handle him!”
“There’s nothing we can’t do together!” Squeaks concurs, fluttering through her spell notes. “Just need to make sure we’re dealing with it appropriately.”
Their elven guide holds up a fist and signals them to be quiet, their sharp eyes narrowing and their more acute ears twitching.
“By the forgefather’s anvil,” says their dwarven cleric ally, tightening her grip upon her hammer, “Is the beastie nearby?”
The elf nods, pointing forward.
Two mice and a dwarf poke their head around the elf, who squirms uncomfortably as they are crowded by the other adventurers.
The troll stomps around a dried-up riverbed, dragging behind it a massive deer, mumbling to itself as it heads toward a cave. It stops and sniffs the air, turning around and growling, dropping its meal.
“Blast, it’s found us!” says the cleric.
Luna pulls free her sword. “Let’s give him a welcome!”
The elven ranger holds a hand out to stop the two, but they rush forward.
Squeaks scurries up behind them, preparing her magical spells.
Luna leaps forward while the cleric sends divine energy toward her, bathing her sword in light. She hops on, swinging down and cutting off the troll’s arm.
The troll roars, stumbling back as his hand falls o the ground, twitching and curling up in the hot sun.
The troll swipes with a massive hand, sending Luna tumbling away. It roars and rushes forward, lowering its head and charging ahead.
The cleric flies back, despite her dwarfish balance, and strikes the side of the river basin. Dirt rolls down from the cliffside, and she rolls out of the way to avoid a rockslide!
The troll grabs one of the boulders and lobs it toward the mage.
Squeaks yelps and hops to the side, dropping her scrolls and notes, which flutter into the wind. She frantically works to gather everything up, pulling it close to her chest.
The troll looms high over her, his eyes glowing red, a lurid smile spreading over his face.
Squeaks’s eyes widen, feeling oh-so-small under the troll’s massive height.
He reaches down for her, showing off saliva-stained teeth and chuckling with the mad hunger of a beast, his bulk overshadowing the small body of the mouse girl.
That’s when the sanctified blade plunges into his back, with Luna riding on top of him.
He roars, reaching to grab the mouse with one hand, but she’s just far enough away that his remaining arm cannot get.
Squeaks scampers to her feet, pointing her staff towards the beast. A tongue of flame shoots out, hitting him in the side.
He roars, stumbling back and heading to the opposite rock wall.
“Over there!” Squeaks yelps, charging up another spell.
The cleric kneels and begins to pray, holding out their hammer and letting light shine down upon the elf. The elf stands up from their position, arrow notched and ready, and then lets it fly, shooting the beast in the eye, flying true with the grace of the divine.
The creature roars, falling back further and further.
Luna hops off, pulling her sword out as he crashes into the wall! Just like on the opposite cliff, the rocks dislodge and fall. Still, he turns around, growling in confusion before being hit multiple times by falling debris and detritus, the rocks covering him up, until nothing but a pile of stones and an outstretched hand remains.
“Great job, everyone!” Luna says. 
“You were amazing!” squeals Squeaks, bouncing on her toes. “I can’t believe you jumped on it like that!”
“Wouldn’t have been able to control its movements if you didn’t hit it with that fire. Great job.”
Squeaks giggles, playing with her staff. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Say, look,” says the cleric. “It’s a cave! Let’s check it out.”
Aside from the terrible smell and rotten bedding, the party finds a modest cache of gold. They take what they can carry and head back to the guildhall with the rest, singing the jaunty tune of a successful hunt together.
And the valley is left desolate and quiet until the leftover troll hand twitches and crawls. It stands, and cells expand and multiply, recreating the creature that once was. Soon, the troll stands up, scratching its stomach and grumbling.
And so Gramble stomps along, out to hunt.
Meanwhile, a couple kobolds watch from perches by their cave entrance, looking at each other and then slinking back into the darkness.
At least with this troll, the members of the Dragon’s Heir thought they shouldn’t try to venture outward. And the number of adventurers wandering around means they shouldn’t advertise themselves. In fact, they should prepare to defend themselves from intruders.
It’s time to call on Tikit, the master trapsmith, to improve the colony’s defenses.