Friday. 3:25 PM

I’d never seen a troll before.

In my head, I’d built up a picture of what they looked like, but it was mostly built on vague pop culture references. I’d imagined something built with the frame of a silverback but bigger, with a flat face and sallow skin. Logically I knew that Peter Jackson hadn’t based his design off of any real-world example, but I’d just assumed that he was somewhere in the right ballpark.

The creature that slung up from beneath the bridge was more like a nightmare.

Unlike the creature from my imagination, I couldn’t tell you the color of the real troll’s skin. I couldn’t see its skin, because its whole body was coated in layer upon layer of mud and lichen that clung unnaturally to its frame, crackling but refusing to slough off as it moved. Something between branches and tusks jutted out from its face, tapering to a razor point, thorny bark covering them up to the tip.

It was bigger than I’d expected, too. Twelve feet hunched over, and if it had stood straight up, its massive arms could have reached three stories high.

What I remember the most, though, were its eyes. They were bright yellow, seeming to glow beneath the layers of muck clinging to its body, and they were furious.

And they were pointed right at me.

Great plan.

It bent over and roared across the bridge, spittle flying as the bellow made my knees go weak, then it crouched and began to charge my way.

In a panic, I flung the still-humming sending stone to the far side of the bridge, but it was too little, too late. The troll knew it was me who’d come to its home and challenged its authority, and like a tiger fighting to defend its territory, it wanted to make an example of me.

To my side, gunshots barked in a steady rhythm, little pops of sound next to the rumbling, thunderous cry of the troll. It flinched, turned, and rounded on the counsellors who’d taken up firing stances a dozen paces away.

It didn’t seem to do much more than annoy the troll, but that annoyance probably saved my life. Rounding on the counsellors, the troll charged, building speed as it loped towards them, surprisingly quick for a creature of its size.

I only barely noticed that Davis wasn’t actually shooting. His gun was up, but the slide on his Glock wasn’t moving, and his lips were parted in a silent chant as he prepared a spell.

The counsellors knew what they were doing. Just before the troll could lunge, Davis shifted his weight, and a golden lasso of magic shot out from the ground, wrapping around the beast’s ankles. Caught in the middle of preparing to jump, it flopped forward, crashing to the ground with several tons of mass. Where its tusks hit the ground, pavement cracked and bits of the bark chipped, revealing pearly white ivory beneath.

Davis was on it in a second, flipping through the air like a character in a kung-fu film, landing on the creature’s back. One hand was raised to the side to call power, but with the other he finally made use of his gun, putting half a dozen rounds into a space the size of a playing card on the troll’s back.

It roared again, thrashing, legs kicking against the energy binding its feet. The spell snapped, but Davis had already leapt away, reloading as he skidded to a stop.

It was Murray’s turn. Her fingers were bent like claws and she slashed them through the air, lances of hard fire spraying out from her hands that made the beam she’d thrown at me look like a sparkler. The heat was so harsh that I had to shield my face, and where it splashed on the troll’s muddy hide it left a black char in place of lichen.

The magic was an impressive display of power, but as the troll rose to its stumpy feet, it seemed little worse for wear. It reached down, prying up the slab of asphalt that had taken out my bike, and flung it at Murray like a softball pitcher with a grudge.

She ducked and rolled, barely avoiding the projectile. The chunk of asphalt smashed into someone’s car, crushing the hood and totalling the engine.

That was enough to scatter the gathering pedestrians. I hadn’t really been paying attention to the ongoing illusion, but there were people standing around, taking photos and recording whatever it was that they could see. When the car alarm started blaring, all but the most determined onlookers broke, pulling their cars away and retreating to a safe distance.

Davis, meanwhile, had reloaded. When he took aim and fired, though, it wasn’t a bullet that struck the troll in the back. Instead there was a deep thrum like an electric bass, and the troll flinched as something struck it between the shoulder blades and began to resonate. The mud and plant matter dried and hardened as the projectile buzzed, and after a second it shattered, falling away in brittle clods that smashed into the ground.

Its true hide was grey and mottled like an elephant, and given how the troll reacted, having its flesh exposed was the first thing that had properly scared the beast. It spun and roared, facing Davis with terrified fury. Murray was on it in the blink of an eye, drawing a spectral, silver blade that looked to be almost four feet long, but that she held in one hand like it weighed nothing.

Lunging in, she slashed at the troll’s ankles, two quick cuts that failed to get through the muddy armor, then gave up the light attacks and went for the kill, propelling herself upwards and driving the blade into its back.

The sword sank to the hilt, sticking in place as Murray kicked away, and the troll screamed.

It spun, swiping at Murray, but she was already gone, dancing back and away to draw its attention. Meanwhile, Davis slammed a fist to the ground and channeled power towards the beast, making it stumble and spin back to face him. Murray came in, then, flicking a wand that sent little electric butterflies towards its patch of vulnerable skin.

The scene was like two wolves menacing a grizzly bear. When it spun, the counsellor it faced would dance back and avoid its swipes, while the one to its back would come in with an attack, making the enormous creature yowl with pain.

I don’t think either of them saw the glint in its eyes as the troll figured out the game. I only noticed it for a heartbeat, and it took me a little longer to realize what it was doing.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The troll faced Davis, lunging forward and swiping with its tusks, missing by a wide margin. Murray aimed her gun and took a couple shots, making the beast spin, swiping a hand at her, while Davis prepared a lance of crackling force.

It swung at Murray, sending up chips of pavement where its fists came home. She danced away, easily hopping from side to side to avoid the comparatively slow monster, and Davis launched his attack at the beast’s heels.

As soon as the lance struck home, the troll roared and started to spin once again to face Davis. Murray already had a wand out, fire spinning around its tip as she built up an attack, no longer ready to dodge.

I tried to shout a warning, but I wasn’t fast enough. The troll continued to spin, moving past Davis, wheeling on Murray while she was focused on her spell.

Unprepared for an attack, Murray didn’t have a chance to dodge out of the way. The troll lashed a bulbous arm at Murray, catching her in the belly. It hit like a pro baller taking batting practice, the power of the impact sending her into the air and over the edge of the bridge.

Davis reached out a hand, screaming, “Katherine!”, but any magic he had wasn’t enough to catch his partner.

Somewhere far below, a little splash echoed up from the river. The troll rounded on Davis.

Hurt, angry, but no less dangerous, it eyed the counsellor and lumbered sideways, closing slowly on the man. Its back was vulnerable, blood trickling where the sword was still stuck, but Davis had no easy access to it.

The game had changed. Davis was forced to back down the bridge, raising defensive wards that slowed the troll’s implacable advance. I was forgotten for the moment as they moved past me, in a slow, deliberate dance of war.

Then, with a burst of energy, the fight accelerated. The troll lunged forward, fists pounding down towards Davis. An invisible barrier lit up around him where it made contact, light and energy sparkling. Davis visibly staggered, but he gathered himself and raised a hand, holding a warding rune and channeling his will through it.

Changing tactics, the beast struck the shield from the side, sending Davis rolling like a hamster in a ball. The counsellor caught himself, stabilizing the shield and readying for another assault.

I got to my feet. Watching the fight for a second more, I began stumbling away. Even if I’d had the inclination to fight, there wasn’t much I could do against the troll. I had no weapons, no magic, and if I tried running up and punching the beast it would do about as much good as if I started up a song and dance routine.

I glanced towards the end of the bridge. Most of the cars had pulled away, fleeing from whatever it was they could see. Spotting a shimmer, I had a thought. Davis is still maintaining the illusion.

From within the spell, I could see the little telltale signs of magic, blue ripples of energy projecting around us from where Davis stood. In the middle of a fight for his life, against a monster ten times his size, Davis was still giving his time and attention to maintaining the illusion.

I could run away.

No, that’s not true.

I could stagger away.

Davis knew what he was doing, and the troll was injured. He could probably win on his own.

But if he couldn’t, I’d be responsible for his death.

So, instead of stumbling to the exit and trying to get ahold of Ben, I shuffled across the bridge, scanning the rubble for the sending stone I’d thrown this way.

It was only a little bigger than a quarter, and it blended in with the bits of concrete and rock that collected by the side of the road, but I needed it to make a distraction. Dammit. Why didn’t I just grab two?

I checked how Davis was doing.

He didn’t look great. Every time the troll struck his shield, he seemed to sag a little more, running out of strength by the second.

I returned to my search, to no avail. Wherever the stone had landed, I couldn’t find it. I needed something else, something bigger, something...

Looking over to the side, I started shuffling towards the counsellor’s SUV.

My body was still stiff and sore, but I was able to pick up a little speed, half jogging towards the black vehicle. The door was unlocked. I opened the passenger side, leaning in to check what they had in the back. Bingo.

Runes, tools, weapons I couldn’t identify. I didn’t know how to use most of it, and I didn’t trust myself with almost all of it. There was one tool that was more powerful than everything else combined, though, and I knew exactly how to use it.

Reaching to the dash, I grabbed the radio. “Hello?”

There was an uncertain pause. “Who is this?”

“My name’s… never mind. Your counsellors are in trouble. There’s a troll loose and they can’t stop it.”

“Uh, hold on a moment.” The radio clicked, and a couple seconds passed. I looked up, checking on Davis. He was in bad shape, sweat sticking his hair down to his face, barely able to dance around the troll and keep it busy. “Please say again, who is this?”

“I can’t tell you that, but if you don’t do something in the next few seconds, the big guy is going to get splattered all over the road, and a bunch of pedestrians are going to be next. Can you send in, like, a magic missile strike or something?”

Another pause, for half a second. “Where are you, exactly?”

“Buck O’Neil bridge. The south side. Hurry, pl—”

The radio crackled, and a gentle, warm breeze rolled past me. In the back of the van, magical tools began to rattle or glow, and when I checked on Davis, his expression flashed from confusion to satisfaction.

Raising his hand, he redoubled the shield, making it so strong that it was a completely visible dome. Another attack from the beast glanced off without the shield so much as wavering, and Davis responded to the attack with a raking slash of his hand.

Power, raw and barely contained, struck the troll like a cannonball. It flew back, staggering, one of its tusks shattering from the blow. Another attack of similar force followed, striking it in the belly, dropping it to the ground.

Panting, Davis stood tall, raised his hands, and brought down raw energy that had the power of a lightning strike.

The troll, sensing its demise, lunged away. Going for another attack would only have bounced it off his shield, and it knew it, so it jumped for the edge of the bridge.

Electric power boomed, burning through its muddy hide, but it wasn’t a lethal blow and the troll flopped over the edge of the bridge, falling down to the river.

A couple seconds later, the warm surge of power in the air faded, and Davis sank back, exhausted.

The radio crackled. “Alright, whoever you are, stay put. We’ve got some questions for you, and…”

I was already walking away, shuffling down the bridge.

The headset in my helmet was still connected. “Computer. Call Ben.” It rang once and he picked up. “Are you here?”

He hesitated. “Yeah. What was that explosion?”

“I’m at the end of the bridge. Meet me here, fast. Please.”

I looked over my shoulder. Davis was catching his breath, looking around. I didn’t have much time for a disguise, but I at least had a couple options.

I took off my helmet, shucked out of my backpack and jacket, and stuffed the garment into a zipper pouch. My plain blue T-shirt was a lot less identifiable, and when I reached the line of spectators who had gathered far away from the melee, I sank into the crowd.

Reaching into my pocket, I took the last cleansing crystal, squeezing it in my hand so that I couldn’t be tracked with a spell.

A moment later, Ben’s truck rolled up, the driver’s side window rolled down, looking out for me. I waved, and he called over, “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “I’m fine. I’ll explain everything in a second. First, we need to get the hell out of here.”