than anything Will had ever heard before. There were no strings or horns, only drums, so the music consisted entirely of a variety of percussive beats that shook his bones and vibrated through his chest. Before long, he was up and dancing with the trolls, while the world swirled dizzily around him.
When they finally brought in the food, Will was drunk beyond his wildest imaginings. The feast consisted of a large reptile some twenty feet in length. He’d never seen anything like it, but the size, short legs, and long, sinuous tail suggested the beast was semi-aquatic. If he’d been in his right mind, he would have decided he was glad that he hadn’t gone near the lake. As it was, he was busy watching the trolls rip the massive reptile apart, exposing its guts and flesh, which they greedily stuffed into their mouths.
Someone handed him a handful of something bloody. Will held it for ten or fifteen seconds, hoping the giver would move on, but the troll simply stared at him, then barked and pointed at his mouth.
Well, shit, he thought blearily. Steeling himself, he shoved the bloody gobbet of flesh into his mouth and chewed the rubbery meat. It was an effort to keep from gagging, but being drunk seemed to help. Eventually he swallowed, and the trolls began cheering for him again.
He smiled at the troll who had fed him, whereupon the seven-foot humanoid promptly grinned back before vomiting. A cascade of foul-smelling fluid rained down on Will’s head, and he reciprocated by gagging and retching up the contents of his own stomach.
Lrmeg appeared then, yelling something at the troll who had vomited. He pointed at the empty barrel, and Will guessed that he was remanding the troll for not vomiting into the container so it could be saved. That’s right, Will reminded himself. They only have one orifice, so they piss and shit from their mouths. He looked down at himself, covered in rancid troll bile, and promptly threw up again.
Thankfully, he passed out soon after.
He awoke sometime later, as someone shook his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he saw a creature of nightmare staring down at him. He almost screamed before recognizing it as Clegg. “Barrel full. Time to go,” said the troll in what was probably a gentle tone.
Sitting up, Will’s stomach lurched, and his head began to pound. “Oh,” he groaned. He’d had a few minor hangovers in the past, but this was an entirely new level of misery. Reaching up, he rubbed at his temples, only to find that his hair was stiff and sort of crunchy to the touch. Examining himself, he realized he was still covered in troll vomit, or piss, whichever way one preferred to label it. The disgusting fluids had dried in his hair and on his clothes while he slept.
Thankfully, he couldn’t smell it, or much of anything else for that matter. His nose had been overwhelmed by the constant onslaught of troll stench and had given up at some point while he slept, but he had no doubt he probably smelled like something that had been retrieved from a cesspit.
Clegg was laughing. “Humans don’t drink well.”
Will agreed, but his head hurt too much to nod. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Hungry?” asked the chieftain.
The memory of what he had choked down the day before made his stomach begin to spasm. “No thanks,” he replied, leaning over to fight back a fresh wave of dry heaving. That made his head hurt even worse of course, and he discovered he also had a sharp pain in his right thigh. Looking down, he saw that his trousers were ripped, and a scab had formed on his skin. The flesh was swollen, red, and very tender. “That must have been a monster mosquito,” he muttered to himself.
His body felt incredibly weak, and he quickly realized that though he was absorbing turyn as quickly as possible, he was almost entirely drained. If he had slept longer, he might not have woken up at all. Summoning an elixir of turyn from the limnthal, he downed the entire bottle. He waited a few minutes, then followed it with a blood-cleanse potion.
Clegg helped him get to his feet, and Will did his best