So there I am, an almost split new (level 12) Nordic 'smithing' artist with a lovin' for big greatswords, wondering down the eastern coast from Winterhold - trying to track down some bandits for Jarl Korir, after visiting Serpentstone Isle for Galmar. I'm fighting off everything, cat-nip for Snowy Sabre Cats for some utterly inexplicable reason, four of them on the journey down here.

I kill and skin one of the beasts outside a cave, and it being late evening on a desolate stretch, I decide to pop in and set up camp for the night. Bleakcoast Cave; sounds charming.

Wouldn't you know, it just so happens to be a Frost Troll lair. Four of them. My Battle-cry isn't ready quite yet, and I got only 3 potions of minor healing and Banded Iron Armor & Helmet to gird me for the battle. Sufficed to say, since I write this now, I triumphed. Figuring that since they can kill me with two melee blows, it would be best to be a bit clever and take them on one by one. Between that, a great deal of back peddling sword swings, carefully judged power attacks, fortuitously timed death-blows, and no small amount of fleeing for my life...

Well, let's just say that I got me some brand new troll-fat candles, and an Orcish Greatsword of Animus that was just lying about amidst the bones of it's unfortunate owner.