Ulysses and Vissitunia entered the bank. They wore their finest clothing and did their best to look like a young couple looking for a loan that weren't being closely follow by Grix the troll in a traveling cloak. Beneath the cloak they knew that he held a small crossbow pointed at Vissitunia's back. Grix had impregnated the point with an ancient troll poison. One shot and Vissitunia's heart would turn orange and then explode.
"Hello! We'd like some money," Ulysses said.
"That's nice," said the bored teller.
"Now, please," Vissitunia said.
"You'll have to talk to one of the owners, they're the only ones allowed to dispense loans."
"We, er, don't want a loan," Ulysses said.
"Then what do you want?" asked the teller.
"Money. You see, you're being robbed," Ulysses said. He leaned a little closer. Drops of sweat blossomed on his head. "We're being robbed as well. That man behind us. He's not a man. He's a troll, and he's going to kill my beloved Visstunia unless you give us the money and allow us to leave safely, without calling the constable."
"I shall have to."
Ulysses began to blubber like a whale getting punched in the belly.
"B-b-b-ut my love!"
"Ulysses! Pull yourself together!" Vissitunia said. "That is no way for a man to act!"
"I agree," said the teller.
"I can't stand the thought of you hurt! And I can't do anything about it!"
"No, you can't," Visstunia said, patting him on the shoulder. "But you can decide how you're going to handle it."
"Listen. I believe you. I'm going to do as you say." The teller began pulling bags of gold coins out of the pile behind the counter. "But do try to delay the troll that's holding you hostage. The constable will get the troll. He's very good at that sort of thing. You can bring this back tomorrow."
Ulysses tried to control himself.
"Thank you," he said, wiping away his tears.
Ulysses and Vissitunia turned their backs to the teller and marched out of the merchant banker's office. Grix followed behind them. On the edge of town they handed Grix the bags of money.
"Well done," Grix said. He took his loot and ran down the path.
Ulysses and Visstunia didn't waste a moment. They ran after him and were long gone before the constable arrived. The constable sent for the hounds and began to track the troll. They found Grix floating face-down in the river. The tip of a dagger protruded from his chest and scraped the pebbles on the river bed.
Neither the constable nor the constable's deputies nor the hounds could find the money nor the assailants.
"Looks like the Troll Bandits have struck again."
Grix looked up.
"This really hurts."
"Luckily, they don't understand troll physiology," the constable said.
The Moral: if you're going to kill someone, bring as many knives as your target has hearts.