Pay up.

You're wet, you're still dizzy, and she's got the drop on you.

You could try to draw your sword and fight her, but at this range she would probably rip you in two before you had a chance to strike.

You hand her your bag of gold and start to unlace your boots. You let out another sigh. You won those boots from Sir Bradford at the last joust. Now what are you going to lord over him the next time you to meet?

"Come on, hurry up," snaps the troll as she grows more impatient. You slip them off and hand them to her, wondering just what she's going to do with boots that wont fit her.