Arkady somehow doesn't roll his eyes. "Of course they are. Where do you think it gets the power needed to kill gods and destroy continents in the first place? That's their hiding place from the younger Styric gods, if the story I heard was true." He looks at Piper than adds: "And I am not thinking they are going to be very happy about this."

After a second he turns to look at the corpse. "Sir Ulath, is he going to stay dead?"

Felix is busy getting some water splashed on his face, to which his stomach makes its objections well known. Despite the vicious aqueous assault he starts to feel somewhat better.

"I knew they were there, but I wasn't expecting them to stay there," admits Sparhawk.

Sephrenia, lacking Arkady's self-restraint, does roll her eyes. "Of course they stayed, dear, they don't have anywhere else to go. Now, tell the Rose to release the Child-Goddess Aphrael from the prison in which she was recently imprisoned."

(Meanwhile, Felix gets a dose of cold water to the face. The water is very cold, and he is glad not to still be fighting a troll. It will take some hours before he can be reasonably considered firing on all cylinders, though.)

"Release the Child-Goddess Aphrael from the prison in which she was recently imprisoned!" says Sir Sparhawk.

The Rose starts to vibrate in his hands, but nothing else happens.

"Be firm, dear," says Sephrenia. "The Troll-gods will fight, but they can't disobey or directly harm the wearer of both rings."

"Ggrgh!" grunts Sir Sparhawk. "Listen to me, Rose! Release the Child-Goddess Aphrael from the prison in which she was recently imprisoned!"

The Rose vibrates harder - and then, abruptly, the blue sphere holding Piper vanishes, and she drops to the muddy ground.

"Right," nods Sephrenia, as she walks over to the little girl. "Now put the Rose down, so that we can discuss what comes next."

--------------

Off to the side, Sir Ulath shakes his head. "The idea that trolls come back to life is a myth. Once dead, they stay dead. The myth is thought to originate from trolls who were beaten to with an inch of their lives and then left for dead, but not actually killed - a troll that isn't quite dead will recover remarkably well and often then take revenge on the people who beat him up in the first place. But no Troll has ever been known to come back from being beheaded."

Arkady looks at the body then shrugs. "He got his Rose back before he died. It will have to do." He looks back to the others and says "Next I am thinking we should finish his trip for him, and visit his old home. It sounds like the only place we are going to be finding the tools needed to make magic items around here, and we will be needing a set of those."

Felix, having just about had enough with the water splashed into his face, finds a good tree to lean against for the immediate future.

"Also if half the stories about him are true his cave could refill the spent treasure vaults at Cimmura. You can't run a nation without capital and Raven spent all of it to hide his ill begotten Zemoch gold."

A thought crosses Arkady's mind, and he turns to Sir Ulath. "Hold a second before you finish cutting his neck, Sir Ulath." He turns back to his fellow Terrans: "He's a murdering psychopath, but what Ghwerek knows about enchantment could be useful to us. Do you think it worth saddling the colony with a prisoner for that?"

Sir Ulath pauses in his grim work.

"No," he says, "I don't think it's worth trying to hold onto an angry Troll for that."

He has, however, stopped cutting - it seems that he's at least willing to hear out your argument before continuing.

"He gave us this much trouble after we tried to play nicer than we should have," Felix said. "Now? No. He'll forever be an enemy to us. A strong, fast, regenerative nigh-immortal with incredible cunning and all the time in the world to plot our doom from a cell is not something we should have hanging over our heads. We gave him the rope and he made his noose. Let's let him hang by it."

Sir Ulath nods, firmly. This is exactly why letting Ghwerek live would be a very very bad idea.

Felix goes silent and leans back against his tree. He is content to let things play out until it's time for Lady Sephrenia to chastise him.

Arkady shrugs. He walks over to the mostly dead troll, administers a rather fast and generic last rites, cues up the incidental music for burning Darth Vader/Akankin Skywalker, then looks at Sir Ulath. "I think it is time for him to meet the divine in person. If you would be so kind."

Arkady glances over at Roger. "I am doubting he can show receipts for everything in his horde, either. Still, it does seem like a waste of his centuries only to be remembered as a caricature and a sucker."

As there seem to be no further objections, Sir Ulath will finish beheading the Troll.

"We were lucky," he says. "Had we faced a troll without a limp, we would probably be burying at least one of our own by now."

Arkady considers that for a second, then says "Ghwerek without a limp would have been a troll without the Blue Rose, and no real threat to us. Or interest."