I can't begin to tell you what its like to wake up smelling your own flesh roasting. I can't tell you because I don't know. I mean, yes, I was going to be roasting over a large fire, but for the moment I could only smell the large amount of sweat that was pouring from my body. I could see my favorite army jacket getting drenched with sweat. At least I remembered to wear deodorant this morning. That would have been embarrassing!

Trollie the Troll was over on my left sitting on some rocks humming to himself. “ROASTY TOASTY MEALY!” he kept singing. Really, he wouldn't make a very good contestant on any singing show. No one would turn around and say, “I want YOU!” Nope. Not at all.

I tried desperately to keep my combats from touching the fire which was getting closer and closer. At least I can say this: I died while warm. I hardly think that the 'food in my gut' applied here since I was about to be the food.

“Hey!” I called over to the troll. Trollie the Troll looked over and blinked. “HUH? WHAT?” he said confused. Who else could be talking to him, the dolt? I was beginning to think that trolls were a rather stupid race. “Get me down from here!” I squirmed to emphasize my dire situation. “UHM, NO. NO NO NO NO. YOU WILL TASTE TOO GOOD. IT WOULD BE A SHAME TO LOOSE YOU, NOT-JOTUNN. FEMALES MAKE A GOOD SNACK.”

“Oi!” I yelled back at him. “If you're going to eat me, fine. But I'm not female, dude!” Trollie the Troll looked blankly at me and then leaned in close. “YOU LIE. YOU ARE NOT MALE. ANY ONE CAN SEE THAT.” I suddenly felt very aware of my body. “It's called Nonbinary, pee-breath.” I sighed silently to myself. Trollie the Troll didn't seem to hear me and went back to him rock and resumed his singing. I hoped that his singing would kill me first.

My hands happened on my curved knife that I had bought at a garage sale. It wasn't sharp, but it wasn't dull either. It was so small I had forgotten that I even had it. I pulled it out of my pocket and began scratching at the ropes. The ropes were small, and probably a string-equivalent to the troll, but it didn't matter. What did matter was that I was able to cut myself free before I because a nonbinary snack. Trust me, that was not my idea of a good time.

“HEY, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” he yelled when he noticed me running for my life. “Away from here!” I yelled back as I dashed in as best of a zig zag fashion as I could manage. The problem? He was much bigger than me which meant that my zig zag mattered little to him. I looked around the trees trying to find the river that I had come over before. A few feet in front of me I found a river, but it was a part I didn't recognize. I went in the direction I thought would lead me the way I came and went upstream. As I continued, the river became more and more unfamiliar. Where were the low-hanging trees? Oh yeah, this guy was an Olympic runner or something. I was miles downstream if this even was the right river to begin with.

I found a dirt cave that was just big enough for me to crawl in to. I curled up in to a ball and prayed to the gods that I wouldn't be found. How many times could I get away before he stuck a stick through my butt? Not many, I was sure. I didn't exactly aim to find out, either.

I sat my butt down in the water and let it soak in to my combats. Dirt fell down my jacket and shirt and in to my hair. It was a small price to pay for my life I suppose. After what felt like hours I figured he was gone. I would still have to be careful though. I didn't have a cloak of invisibility or anything like that to keep me safe.
I crept out as silently as combats in water would allow and crawled on to the bank. I got up and started walking in any direction and listened as my boots sloshed loudly. Yep. This was going to be fun.

I kept walking hoping that my clothes would somehow dry off while I was moving around but they showed no signs of it. Eventually I found a tree that had some weird writing on it. Upon further inspection I realized they were runes. A single rune with an arrow pointed one way, and other lines of runes pointed in other directions. I decided to follow the first line and went that way.

After a few minutes the path started to become more like an actual path. I could see foot prints of various sizes. Some looked like they had to belong to bigfoot! Probably those were done by stupid teenagers who were looking to spook some people. I kept on the path because if stupid teenagers had made these prints to spook people then probably I was headed towards some kind of campground. A really weird campground that used runes. Maybe it was a LARP camp? Some kind of ancient myth based game. I could stop there, explain myself, maybe even join in for a bit. That would be great! A story for the ages!

I walked until I found a giant wooden gate. It looked like an 18th-century fort gate from the American Frontier that had the pointed ends sticking up. In the middle of it was this large muscley guy who had a mean case of the stink-eye. I walked up to him cautiously. “Hello there, fellow intelligent being!” I said. I hoped to the gods this guy wasn't unintelligent. That would suck big time.

“WHO ARE YOU?” he boomed. “I am Sky.” I said confidently. “Sky War-Winner.” War-Winner was the name I always chose for my Skyrim and D&D campaigns. This guy looked at me even harder and he seemed to be looking right through my soul. I really hated it when people could do that. He laughed a huge laugh. “You are not a War-Winner. Only the truest of warriors are allowed in to Valhalla!” Ah. I see. So this is the name of the game. “Oooooof course I am! I have slain many dragons! Even the great Alduin!” Surely he would appreciate some Skyrim lore. “Alduin? What is Alduin?” He crossed his arms and rocked on his feet in an intimidating way. “Ah, y'know? Alduin? The Dragon that would eat the world? I've never met a dragon that I couldn't slay!” Not true. I could never find Puff the Magic Dragon.

I sighed. “Alright, look, man. Enough games. I'm lost. I don't know what part of the mountains I'm on and I doubt that I'm in Nevada. Do you have a phone or some way that I can contact someone?” The man glared at me. “Contact? You wish to divine? To whom? You may be a small Jotunn, but you are no match for me! Your race will not get through me!” He pulled out a sword and swung at me. Somehow, without thinking, I was able to get out of the way. I rolled on to the ground and yelled, “Hey! What gives! You'll hurt someone!”

He guffawed. “That's generally the point. Now you have been warned. Go back and tell your brethren that Valhalla is well guarded by Heimdallr.” Heimdallr? Like the god? The god that guards the gates of Asgard? Wow, these LARPers really get in to it. But this guy was crazy. “No, dude. You don't understand.” I took a step towards him. “I really need help. There's this crazy guy that's after me and he might be somewhere near by. Can't you stop your game for a few minutes and help? I swear I'm not part of any of this!”

“The Jotunn is tricky.” he said. “No matter, it will be delt with.” What was with these two calling me 'jotunn'? Or, were they working together? Was this a small troll? Or did Trollie the Troll have human subjugates? Either way, I had to get out of there and quick!

Notes

**I do not own Skyrim, Alduin, or Puff the Magic Dragon. Skyrim and Alduin belong to Bethesda and I have no idea who Puff belongs to but it isn't me.