Day Thirty-Five, Escape part two

I take back everything I've ever said about Elves, Argents, or nurses. This pudding is...[a section of illegible text rambles for eight lines flowing slightly into a ninth before becoming sufficiently spaced out to be read]...no wonder he loved her so much.
And to top it all off, it actually IS my Mother's recipe. Apparently her pies attracted attention within the baking circuits as far north as Stratholme; Jesessa tracked her down in order to see if the rumors were true and managed to go home with the recipe. She makes it sound like a rather simple matter but I'm sure that to Mom and Dad the idea of such a journey would be quite amazing.
In any case, it's been nice to get a taste of what my Mother was like.

Here's the next bit of my Escape.

Laudren was pacing in her cell. She had some papers strewn over the bed and had been trying to work out some sort of plan to sneak in sufficient quantities of Immolation Oil and Goblin rocket fuel to blast through grate in the floor so she could slip into the sewers and then use invisibility potions to avoid the patrols. She was just thinking about where she could hide a greater fire resistance potion in order to survive the explosion when she heard a voice.
"By da Loa, how ha' dey been keeping dis a secret for so long?"
"Hey!"
Laudren had met trolls before; not necessarily in war either. Her father had taken them out in to the forest to visit some travelling merchants; there had been a whole family of trolls with them. She knew that whatever their combat tendencies, linguistic proficiencies, and general dislike for humans; A troll who casually referred to their gods like this could be expected to have some sense of morals. Perhaps she could get him to run some errands for her, maybe knock out a guard or create a diversion by killing a few patrols; or something like that. She'd probably give him some gold for his troubles.
"What's dis? A human in da Undercity? Dis just milk da raptor, how in da Loa 'choo still be alive in dis pit?"
"I was trying to help them find a cure, at first anyways. They've made me a prisoner, you have to help me get out of here."

The troll stepped over to the little window in her door. His tusks stuck through the bars as he got close enough to see into the poorly lit cell. His eyes were bright, though that was likely just the reflected torchlight. She could feel his gaze wandering lower and pulled her arms to her breast instinctively.
"I can pay you if you can get me out. I'll make it worth your trouble."
"You be tellin the truth." The tusks withdrew into the corridor. "Ol' Natame gonna get 'choo out, but he gonna decide how and what choo pay. And 'choo gonna go along wit it, or choo gonna be in dat cell 'till choo be like da rest o da deaders 'round here."