POOF! :]
The explosion of smoke blinded the old troll. As his hands reflexively shielded his wrinkled face, he felt a pit in his good ear and stomach: a plummet ensued, followed by a mighty clamor of drum and slam of leather against ice. As the smoke cleared, Nagel coughed, waving a hand to dismiss the obscuring mist. Annoyed by his suddenly unbound hair, he matted it away from his eyes with a solitary, alien hand.
Flat, sunken, unmarred by stone warts, and noticeably more crowded by two extra fingers. Worst of all, it was no longer a tone of troll skin he recognized: snow white, though noticeably with a tinge of blue.
"Iceborn," the human wheezed, rising to a knee with unwelcome weakness.
Nagel's fear of freezing to death from exposure subsided. He was not one of those blessed few who could command true ice like some tamed saberwolf. But this new form might be, though at the very least, his barren figure could weather the frozen air as well as his troll body could.
He gazed at his chest and arm, spying the deep cracks and scars that still spiraled within his body: an ancient wound not so easily undone. Lip curling to reveal a yellowed mess of weathered teeth, Nagel sneered.
"...not the worst that's happened. Though I'll be yeti shit before I die like this."