Eda crouched behind a tree, a length of rope tied to the rod that locked the trap in place dangling in her hand. Her concern for Warwick was shrouded by the rage she felt for his audacity of even suggesting she act as bait. He was the one who faced trolls before, he should be the one playing the part!

She glanced down her robe, realizing how impractical it was. Her time at the forest was enough proof of her wardrobe’s inefficiency. It snagged on brambles, collected all kinds of dirt and burrs, and made her trek to the forest a bit more difficult.

She wondered if she should get a set of pants for her unchaining – just so she could run when things didn’t go her way.

A guttural scream echoed from the northern part of the forest. Eda imagined Warwick fleeing from a crazed troll, running like mad to avoid being eaten.

She waited for the sound of their steps and gripped the rope she was holding, praying to the gods for the trap to work as Warwick intended.

After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the faint sounds of running. The sound of footfalls grew louder every minute, accompanied by sharp thuds and sounds of splintering branches.

Eda saw the troll even before she saw Warwick. It towered over the shorter trees near the opposite end of the clearing. Even with its hunched posture, it towered over 9 feet in height. Its arms were unnaturally long, almost touching the ground as it tore through tree branches and saplings to reach its fleeing prey.

“Get ready!” Warwick hollered between gasps. His left sleeve was red with blood but there was a trace of glee on his face as he broke through the clearing. His pace quickened, increasing the distance between him and the pursuing troll.

“Ready,” Eda shouted in reply. She grasped the rope in both hands, hoping that their plan would succeed.

In just a few heartbeats, the enormous troll broke through the clearing – devastating trees and saplings, and scaring off most of the denizens of the forest.

It slowed its run, tired from the exertion of chasing after its prey and bashing its way across the forest. Bits of green clung to its hair and body, and a large branch protruded from its left arm.

The creature gave a bestial roar. It stooped down to eye its prey, locking on its target before starting its run.

Warwick stood his ground beside a large tree. The noose was between him and the troll. It was larger than what he used to hunt but the troll was no simple denizen of the forest.

The troll shambled in its awkward run. It dragged one of its claws on the ground, leaving a trail of deep gouges on the forest floor as it ran.

Warwick glanced towards Eda and nodded. He readied his wooden sword, fully aware that it was not a suitable weapon against his rampaging opponent.

“Today you die, insolent cur,” he taunted. Warwick’s voice boomed unnaturally low and his enunciation took a more affluent tone.

Part of him questioned the logic of even trying to enrage the already-crazed troll, but it seemed appropriate – given that the troll could be considered an elite compared to their usual opponents.

Warwick stared at the charging mass of muscle, claw, and teeth. He lowered his stance, preparing to meet the troll’s charge with his own once the creature was in position. His eyes glinted in anticipation of battle as he dug his feet into the ground.

Eda watched the surreal scene of Warwick taunting a troll. Does he intend to fight it on his own? She stared at the rope in her hands, then to the ground to her left.

She stepped inside the carefully carved circle of power. Quicksilver filled the etched marks on the soil, creating a beautiful contrast of brown and silver. Making it was not part of their plans, but Eda couldn’t just stand idly by while Warwick put himself at risk. If his life was in any danger, then she would unleash hell no matter the cost.

The massive troll roared and lumbered with greater speed – unaware of the trap before it nor the tide of magical fire waiting to be unleashed at any given instance.

It flung its trailing arm towards the charging human – its dagger-like claws growing even longer as its arm arced towards the ground in an overhand attack that would rip its prey into shreds and pin it to the ground.

Warwick sidestepped to the right before jumping onto the troll’s extended arm just as it touched the ground. He used the arm as a take-off point in the ascending spin of rise that carved a light gash on the troll’s chest and neck.

The red flames that trailed his attack made the creature pause, giving Warwick the opening to follow through with a crash to the top of its head.

The force of the blow, coupled with a bit of wind magic, allowed Warwick to seemingly hover in front of the troll for a split-second. Enough time to unleash the ascending helical attacks of infinity.

The first diagonal slash hit the troll on the base of its neck. The blow connected with the troll’s jaw driving its head upward even as it sent Warwick hurtling downward.

The second slash drove into the creature’s knee, bending it in an unnatural angle and sending the troll crashing to one knee.

He threw his sword to the side as he landed, grabbing for the noose underneath the trolls feet and lifting it slightly off the ground. “Now, Eda!”

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Eda yanked the rope with all her might. She heard the clink of the rod uncoupling the rings and she saw the bags of stone hurtling towards the ground. At the same time, the troll was dragged to the ground and then lifted into the air.

The creature thrashed wildly as it hung upside down at the height of a tall man. The weight of its arms and upper body in its suspended state forcefully straightened its spine, preventing it from reaching the rope around its feet.

Warwick picked up his wooden sword, inspecting it for damage. Its edge was blunted from the attack on the troll – but not so much that it was nearer to a club than a sword.

“Good work, Eda,” he turned to his friend before approaching the troll. He swatted its arms away as they flailed uselessly in the air. “Do you want to crunch numbers with your spells? We can do it now if you want?”

“No,” Eda shook her head. The sight of the flailing troll almost made her pity it – but she steeled her heart. The creature and its kin tortured and ate humans. Getting rid of of even one of them was a blessing to the land. “Do your experiment.”

Warwick bowed with a flourish. “Thank you, milady.”

He went to where they placed their packs and retrieved the empty jar as well as the metal rod. He placed the jar below the troll, circled to the creature’s back, and thrust the short metal rod into the troll’s neck up to its chest.

Blood erupted from the hollow of the rod. It wasn’t a weapon – it was a tool used to exsanguinate prey to make them easier to store and carry.

The rivulet of blood poured towards the ground – some of it falling into the open jar beneath the troll, but most of it drenching the soil beneath.

The troll flailed and roared helplessly, unable to reach the rod on its back that was draining it of its life. Those who had faced trolls before would note that its guttural bellows were not brought about by pain and fear but by rage and frustration.

“They need blood to heal.”

“What?” Eda mumbled, her sight fixated to the horrific scene in front of her.

“Trolls need blood to heal,” Warwick repeated. “Drain them of their fluids and they’re dead forever.”

Eda frowned. She couldn’t comprehend how Warwick could be so cheerful after seeing all that blood. Is it me? she wondered. Am I the one acting strange? Killing monsters was their job, given they were vying to be adventurers once they were unchained. Blood and death were unavoidable parts of their chosen path.

Strengthened by her convictions, she turned her eyes to the suspended troll. It could barely move its arms as its body was drained of its healing blood.

It was a brutal way to die – or an efficient means to kill.

She remembered the horror of seeing it chasing after Warwick. There was no way fourteen villagers could take one of them down! Now, it was just a twitching dying thing – helpless in its final moments.

Eda forced herself to smile. We actually managed to kill a troll! Her smile would have been more genuine had she managed to throw a spell or two instead of just watching by the wayside.

She caught a glimpse of Warwick sealing the almost brimming jar of blood. “If you wanted to get blood, you should have brought more jars.”

“Nope, one is enough.” Warwick answered. “We don’t want to flood the market with troll blood and lower the prices like what happened with the ant shells. Besides, this jar is for your father.”

“W-why?”

Warwick gestured to the troll and then to the jar. “It’s either this, a dozen bandits, or a dragon.”

“What exactly did my father discuss with you?” Eda asked.

“That’s between me and my que-, I mean, your father.” Warwick stopped himself. He didn’t know the ramifications of calling Eda’s father a mere quest-giver.

“Hmph,” Eda pretended to pout and turned away to hide her blush. She could swear Warwick was about to call her father quelathas. She had heard her sister’s elven husband calling him that once or twice and guessed it meant father-in-law. Was the troll a test father concocted?

“Help me with this, Eda.”

She turned to Warwick and saw him dragging down the troll’s body.

“We need to set up the trap one more time. Your father wanted one troll, but I may have given the impression that we would bring him two.”

----------------------------------------

It was nearly dark when Eda returned to the manor. Aidan saw her daughter arriving with Warwick. She was dragging a canvas bag while the boy dragged a makeshift sleigh.

Her daughter looked exhausted. He could see the tell-tale signs of mana exhaustion – dark circles around her eyes and a sluggishness in her steps. She looked like she hadn’t slept for days.

The forester’s boy seemed to be in better shape, but Aidan’s experience allowed him to see better than others. There was caked blood on the boy’s hair as well as the back of his neck. He wasn’t wearing his armor, presumably lost in the battle with whatever they managed to escape from.

He stood up from his chair as his eyes drifted to the sleigh behind the boy. Is that a body he’s dragging?!?

Aidan scrambled to the door, barely remembering to ward it off before leaving. He rushed down the stairs, almost stumbling in his haste to attend to his daughter.

“Eda!” he ran to hug his daughter. Eda turned to her side as he embraced her, holding the canvas bag away as if not wanting it to touch them.

“Everything is going to be fine, my child,” Aidan sobbed as he brushed his daughter’s hair. “What happened to your companion?”

“Companion?” Eda broke away from her father’s embrace. “That’s the troll you wanted. Stupid Warwick wanted to bring back the entire corpse for you and your morbid research.”

She lifted the canvas bag and opened it in front of her father. “Here’s the other one. It’s pretty burned – oh my heavens, the smell...”

She let go of the bag, leaving her father holding it in shock, and heaved a torrent of bile into the daffodils at the side of the walkway.

“That must have been difficult...” Aidan consoled her daughter, running his hand along her back to comfort her. He tasted a bit of bile coming up his throat and tried his best not to throw up.

“Difficult?” Eda straightened in indignation. “We were practically toying with them!”

She stomped her way to Warwick and the sled he was dragging. “The difficult part was dragging this damn body all the way from the forest,” she screamed the words as she kicked the sled over and over again.

“I should be going,” Warwick smiled awkwardly. “There’s unattended stew at home, and uncle’s not coming back for a week.”

He dropped the tattered sled to the ground and pulled out a jar from his pack.

“This is yours, sir,” he said as he handed the jar of blood to the confused and shaken Aidan. “This one is more or less intact, but the other one was thoroughly burned by your daughter.”

“Intact?” Aidan’s eyes widened as Warwick pulled away the canvas that covered the dead troll.

Eda suffered another bout of nausea and disgust at the sight, sending her heaving once more into the daffodils. She turned to glare at Warwick only to see him scurrying off into the night.

“Are these enough for you, father?” she turned towards the only person she could vent her irritation on, “or do we have to hunt a dozen bandits – or maybe bring you back a dragon?”

“No, these are enough,” Aidan answered. His kept glancing at the intact body of the troll. Partly because a part of him was waiting for it to wake up, partly because he was weighing its value for research, and partly to avoid her daughter’s bloodshot eyes and smoldering gaze.

“Your friend–”

“Warwick!”

“Ehm- Warwick has proven himself worthy,” Aidan mumbled. “I approve of your partnership in the coming years.”

“You....” Eda seethed. “Even if Warwick has proven himself worthy – you haven’t proven yourself to be worthy of being his quelethas!”

Quelethas? Aidan scratched his head. He wondered if the boy saw him as some kind of leader or elder. He assumed the boy wanted to be accepted into his service – even using the elvish word to seem knowledgeable and inflate his value.

“I’ll see what I can do, my daughter.”