The first grenade detonates near the creature's head. It reacts by rearing back. The truck's cab goes with it and the second grenade's blast is diminished by the vehicle's engine. The cab continues on its way, taking a path very near that the grenades flew.

The cross-hairs settled on the creatures head and his targeting information told him he was within range. His big finger squeezed the trigger. The weapon bucked against his hip where it was braced. A gout of flame lept out from the barrel nearly reaching the crock itself.

As soon as the first round hits, the beast twitches, but not enough to avoid the rest of the barrage. It collapses to the ground, while most of the truck now freely rolls back down until it lodges against the creatures immobile body.

J: Hmm... one immovable object dead, one nestled up against it, no crane in sight. Explosions usually solve my problems, but maybe someone is smarter than me. To all, "good work, any ideas on disposing of the body and truck without dealing with large scale explosions?"

I feel safe, drop my spell and begin collecting my thoughts in preparation of summoning another ally.

"Crap. Took a grenade to the head. That's one tough croc." Bearclaw is still looking around for "others", not believing that the croc came as a coincidence. "Nice shooting 5. I was getting worried for a minute."

"Critters are tough, but they don't have any armor. So, no contest."

Trogdor takes a moment to bemoan the fact that he is a slow mage, to himself. Gun bunnies get to have all the fun before your average magic user can knit a spell together.

"Nice shooting," he says to Bearclaw. "Not to quiet though. Let's finish this and get out of here."

"Yeah to bad it had to be so loud," Lifter says as he goes about collecting what brass he can find.

"Maybe we could plant some explosives underneath the creature, that would muffle the noise."

J: "Good idea, Two (Countdown) please make up a charge and determine the best placement to either blow it into the water, or blast it into small enough pieces and we can push the truck in. One and Three (DC and Bearclaw) cover us while Four, Five (Trogdor and Lifter) and I see if we can lift the creature for explosive placement."

To follow my own instructions I move down towards where the beast has collapsed and look for a stable place to lift/push the creature.

Countdown grumbles and gets to work. The sun is visible through the trees before he grumbles an accomplishment.

J: "I call upon the power of my queen to vanquish mine enemies in flaming torment."

Even J. is amazed at the sheer size and heat of the explosion that took out the troll. It was almost as if something else was backing her incendiary spell.

A moment later, the only sign of Trogdor is a small puddle of molten metal that was probably his axe. The only sign of the pyromancy is a tree lit up like a torch. Ok, so that isn't a subtle sign and probably shouldn't be referred to as 'only.'

J: And I think to myself, 'Fire, I like fire, time to make more.'

J: I speak to the remaining group, "well with no truck there seems to be no reason to be here, let's get back to camp. Unless we should do something else?"

Bearclaw says "I'm here chief". "How are you feeling" he asks her warily. "What happened to Trogodor?"

J: "He must have gotten caught in the backlash of the truck explosion or something. All right let's move out."

To restate that which is current:
95% of the target truck is nowhere in sight. The other 5% is rather non-functional.
You left early afternoon yesterday, and it is shortly after dawn.
Trogdor has ceased to exist, possibly due to an overpowered spell and explosives combination.
Countdown seems to have gone in the same way (since I couldn't find a better spot to be rid of him).
You started a forest fire, it is still limited to a few trees.
The big croc is just as present as Trogdor.
You heard a short bit of what sounded like human screams from the woods. Chesterfield may or may not exist in an identifiable way.

Bearclaw, Litfer, and J. are present and functionally unharmed.

J: I grab my map and G.P.S., plot a course back towards camp, walk across the bridge, and start heading towards camp through the jungle.

OOC: follow if you would like.

Bearclaw follows, but keeps a safe distance.

The walk is long and tiring, but nothing seems to dare approach you by the light of morning. The only exception to this general avoidance is a jeep coming from the south.

J gets off the path and proceeds to hide in the brush.

Bearclaw hops off the road on the other side from J.
"Six, tell me what you want me to do."

J speaks subvocally, "stay hidden, but try to get a look and see who they are."