“Zul!”

“Zul!”

“Zul!”

5,000+ Forest Trolls of the northern fleet chanted as they beat upon their war drums, and blared horns.

Standing at the helm of the water totem ship, the three Troll leaders in charge of the expedition watched on as a green tide of Forest Trolls disembarked from their canoes, and charged toward the disorganized Elven line.

It didn't take long before hundreds of Trolls fell down to fire magic, or enchanted arrows. However, even many would-be fatal flames or arrows to the heart did not instantly kill the Trolls.

Due to the totem ship of water, a constant, rejuvenating aura fell upon the invaders. Combine this with the Troll’s natural healing factor, and the only effective way for the Elves to guarantee a Troll kill was to turn the head into char/much, or give them a full decapitation.

Otherwise, the Trolls would simply laugh off any attacks to their limbs or chest like they were nothing.

In fact, this carnage served as a trigger for the Trolls’ bloodlust ro activate. The more wounded they became, the crazier their berserker rage they experienced.

Axes and spears came down so fast in that state, that the speed of a Troll almost matched that of the Elves.Unmatched ferocity met precision and skill, naked muscle pressed into armored enchanted armor. The melee was brutal and vicious.

Heads went flying, Elves were crushed within their armor after repeated blunt force trauma, and Troll limbs showered the docks purple with blood.

The scent of Troll blood was so thick, and spilled in such large quantities, it had many an Elf retching at the smell, and the sanguine substance ran the ocean violet for a time.

The Elves were pressed from all sides, and it looked like they would buckle at any moment.

“This almost seems almost too easy.” Nalarakk, the Troll containing the Loa bear spirit said as he shook his head in confusion.

Nalarakk's face, and upper quartile of his body were all in the form of a bear. The blessing of the Loa also made him a giant among Trolls. His nearly 9ft height placed him in a tier similar to that of an ogre warlord.

“See? It be like Hexlord Malacrass predicted, mon! Easy pickins! We gonna be eating fine Elf food and tastin Elf women till our bellies be full! Tell'em Akandii!” Akil'zon, the Troll keeper of the Loa eagle spirit replied in good cheer.

Akil'zon's head was that of an eagle, yet his limbs were like that of any other Troll. He stood slightly taller than Nalarakk, yet where Nalarakk was stocky, Akil'zon was lanky.

The third and final leader of the flanking force, Akandii was a stone-faced, Forest Troll festooned in an armor made of the bones of his enemies. His ears were covered by the tips of Elf ears, and a head of flame colored hair crested his green scalp.

“Pah. Doesn't matter. You do your job, and I'll do mine.” Akandii spat onto the boat deck, then turned to a group of similarly clad bone armored individuals.

“Shadow Hunters, today we avenge our people. You know what they took from us. Make them bleed.” Akandii said in a deep, gravelly voice.

He then jumped off the boat, and disappeared using a rogues camouflage. His unit of 50 subordinates followed after him-each one carrying a totem in their hands-disappeared from plain sight.

“Carrying out sneak-thief kills, how dishonorable.” Nalarakk shook his head and growled.

“Kah, Kah, Kah! You sure be funny mon! Not all ah us are as strong as you! Sides, you heard him, thus fight be a long time coming. Before Elves, before Man, this land belonged to de Amani! It is our land!” Akil'zon said, and thumped the ships floorboard with a taloned birds foot.

“Hmm, perhaps you are right my friend. Perhaps you are right. I, however, question Hexlord Malacrass’ plan to send the great totem of water on this front.” Nalarakk said as he snorted hot air onto his chest.

“Be careful what you be sayin mon, that's borderline treason.” Akil'zon said while lowering the timbre in his voice.

“Bahaha, who do you think you're trying to intimidate with that squeaky voice!? I remember when you were trying to woo that lady, what's her name? If it wasn't for me, you'd still be a virgin! Bahahaha!” Nalarakk belly laughed, and slapped Akil'zon so hard, the bird hybrid almost fell to the deck.

“Hey, hey, I'm just tryin ta look out for ya mon, dee Hexlord got eyes and ears everywhere.” Akil'zon whispered conspiratorially.

“That's what has me worried my friend. True, Malacrass is an amazing shaman, with his help, we have merged with the Loa, and become demigods! But by what power did he bind them to us? What dark pact was made so that we may have this revenge upon the damned sissies?” Nalarakk grinned his teeth so hard after he spoke, his companion took a step back in fear.

“Easy now, easy. The Chief trusts him, so that has to count for someting, no?” Akil'zon lifted his hands to assuage his friend.

“Well, just keep an eye out is all I'm saying.” Nalarakk said, shaking his hand as if he was unconvinced.

“For you mon, anything, I-hmm, why haven't the Elves collapsed yet?” Akil'zon pointed toward the battlefield in confusion.

The Highborn, outnumbered 4 to 1 had formed a circle so as not to be completely surrounded.

Nalarakk assumed the Elves would fall in a matter of minutes, but the fight had been dragging on and on, yet the Elves held on.

In fact, Nalarakk could hardly spot any fair skinned corpses!

Taking a closer look, he saw that the Elves’ armor would brightly glow a white flash whenever a Troll would strike them. It was only when a Troll attacked quickly in succession, or attacked with two or three allies that they could breach the white shield, and hit the Elf underneath.

By then, typically a Troll would be forced back with a temporarily debilitating injury, or they would be slain, dead forever.

The way things were going, the Trolls were slowly being whittled away while the Elves suffered hardly any casualties!

Gripping the railing, Nalarakk prepared himself to jump down and change the battle in their favor when Akil'zon held him back.

“No mon, listen! What happened to the summoned water elementals!? Or the other fifth of the army! We was sposed ta outnumbered the Elves 5 to 1, not 4 to 1! I smell a trap!” Akil'zon hurriedly exclaimed in an effort to halt Nalarakk in his tracks.

Nalarakk growled deeply, the Loa inside him cried for battle, fueling his bloodlust. He would not be denied!

Swiping away his friend's grasp, Nalarakk jumped off the water totem ship, and began to run toward the enemy.

“With me beastkin!” Nalarakk roared toward a group of 100 shamanistic Forest Trolls who, through his connection with the Loa, were also imparted with the physical traits of bears.

The beastkin, who had lost their ability to speak roared back at Nalarakk, and followed in his footsteps.

Their running shook the earth as they moved like a stampede.

He ran forward when suddenly his supernatural instincts granted to him by the Loa spirit screamed at him to dodge.

Jumping forward in a front flip, Nalarakk felt a swoosh of air below his feet right where his neck would've been.

Nalarakk had luckily escaped death, however 10 of his companions who were following behind weren't so fortunate.

The ten beastkin were completely bisected from the waist down as a sword almost as long as he was tall flickered with a dangerous golden light.

‘Poor bastards.’ Nalarakk thought to himself as the warriors who didn't instantly lose their organs began to have their skin close around their waistline.

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The effect of their natural healing factor combined with the effects of the totem ship kept them alive, but without the ability to even take a shit, these Trolls were doomed to a torturous death.

Nalarakk took the rage he was feeling at their unfair fates, and charged toward the Elf bitch.

“A Hero! Our battle shall be legendary!” Nalarakk giddily charged at this new foe-a tiny blonde Elf lady-with his claws extended.

The Elf bitch effortlessly swung her blade so quickly, Nalarakk couldn't even mentally process it.

All he could do was once more rely on his instincts, and test his reflexes against her superior speed.

Nalarakk performed several hops and leaps, yet he could never close the distance with her!

Several knicks and cuts began to accumulate all over his body, and he was coated in his own blood. To add insult to injury, the little Elf bitch was smirking at him the entire time!

“Grah!” Nalarakk lunged forward, swiping his claws where he thought she would dodge.

‘Got you!’ Nalarakk internally celebrated, only to swipe at nothing but air.

“My mother hits harder than you.” A bell-like voice spoke in Trollish from behind.

Nalarakk dropped to his belly, then rolled to the side, evading an explosive attack.

The land cratered into a furrow where her sword landed, and light rays exploded from the cracks. The holy energy permeated the ground, and burnt his feet every second he stood upon it.

Every moment he fought her, his flesh would sizzle, regrow, sizzle regrow, sizzle regrow.

Now while he dodged her impossibly fast attacks, Nalarakk was in some kind of mood.

This was not the great war that he had signed up for!

“You bitch! You’re no honorable warrior!” Nalarakk said in accusation.

“Says the Troll who battled a little girl like me 101 to 1?” The Elf paused for a moment and titled her head in mockery, dodging Nalarakk’s swipe in the process.

“You find this amusing, huh?!” Nalarakk kept talking so he could find some time to catch his breath.

His Loa granted him super stamina, and the totem had been healing all his wounds, yet the tiny Elf bitch had cut him literally thousands of times. That. That had taken a toll on him.

And the damn glowing floor! It was a holy magical spell, and while the constant sizzling and regeneration was bearable, what was slowly driving him mad was the itching!

“You’re funny. I haven’t killed a talker in a while, they always have the most amusing look of disbelief upon their faces when I slice them in half. I only wish my husband could see me taking care of you. I wonder what he would compliment? My sword skills? Or maybe the Light burning the ground of my enemies? What do you think?” The crazy bitch asked him with the biggest shit eating grin.

This damned woman was playing with him this entire time! She had to know the itch she was inflicting upon him. The itch to pummel her into meat paste and beyond!

Well no more!

He was convinced that she was unable to cut through his sturdy skin, which is why she only nicked him, or left him with long slices along the biceps and chest.

So to change the game, what if he transformed into his Loa state? He’d be untouchable, speed be damned!

Nalarakk had tried to do the honorable thing, and face her in his hybrid form, we'll! It was time to see how she fared against a god!

“This is the price for mocking Trollkind!” Nalarakk shouted as his form began to undergo a metamorphosis.

Within a couple seconds, his 9ft tall hybrid bear/Troll body transformed into a 30ft tall bear!

Nalarakk didn't waste any time, and immediately slammed his giant paws onto the ground.

Shaministic magic spread throughout the area, and an earthquake caved in the area all around him.

“RUUUAAHHHH!!!” Nalarakk raised his massive bears head toward the sky, and roared in victory.

His celebration was cut short, however as he heard an annoying voice talk down to him from the top of his head.

“Roar, roar, roar, it’s all you can do. I was curious what your transformation would be, so I held back, but what a disappointment.”

“Blather all you want woman, I know you can’t cut me with that toothpick, bahahaha!” Nalarakk rumbled with laughter.

Nalarakk decided it was time to end this farce. He had his fun, but every second wasted was a second more innocent Troll blood would be needlessly spilled.

Raising his head, Nalarakk was about to roll all over the place until he squished the annoying bug, however his vision was suddenly seeing double.

Huh?

Why could he see two halves of the Elf bitch?

“Huh, I was expecting another transformation, or for the head to grow back. How disappointing.” The Elf said as if she had her favorite plaything taken from her.

“Biiiitch.” Nalarakk growled out as he felt himself lose consciousness forever.

“Hmm, now all that remains is the cleanup. Once I take care of that pest, I wonder what Varrus will reward me with? Oh I can’t wait!” Syra giddily placed a blood stained finger to her cheek as she considered how to mutilate Sanguinar while he was within the midst of dueling the bird Loa.

While she was considering how to enact her plan, her followers, those on the ‘Illidari Council’ were engaged in mortal combat with the water elemental bound to the totem ship. Syra was unconcerned with their safety, and saw that they had things well in hand. Already, more than half of the Trolls were lying on the ground dead or in the process of being killed. Her husband’s mastery of enchanting sent pride shivering from her toes to the tips of her ears.

Ooo, she loved, loved, loved that beautiful, intelligent man!

‘All the more reason to delete his political foe.’ Syra reminded herself as her eyes zeroed in on them.

The duo, Sanguinar, and Thaladred were handily pressing the bird back, almost slaying it at the same time that Syra had finished her end of the fight.

‘Well we can’t have it end that cleanly, can we?’ Syra smiled to herself, and ran towards the fight.

Dicing 200 Trolls into piles of purple sludge along the way, Syra arrived at the fight near instantaneously, and kicked the bird Loa in the beak, pushing it away from Sanguinar’s fatal blow.

“What are you doing child!? I had him within my clutches!” Sanguinar fumed.

“You had better go after him, otherwise the Amani chieftain will be undefeatable.” Syra pointed out.

The bird Loa, seemingly aware of his impending doom up and left the scene, seemingly flying randomly into the city in a desperate bid to escape his demise.

“This isn’t over little girl.” Thaladred growled, then dashed after the Loa.

Sanguinar, hot on his heels, gave chase as well.

Syra smiled to herself, and began to follow behind at a sedate pace.

Once they were within the city proper, they came across a confusing battle of Troll rangers, and Elve dressed in odd outfits fit only for circus performers.

Syra’s smile became crooked as she recognized her mother’s subordinates. She was tempted to quarrel with them for all the hazing they had subjected her to over the years, but her mission came first.

Now that there were no witnesses of any consequence, Syra took out a scrying orb, and set it to record. She then began reciting the mantra to a spell. The next couple of minutes were sure to be amusing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thaladred had felt out of it ever since he lost to that brat. His rage had become an inferno that he unleashed upon Troll after Troll. Their blood became the elixir to wash away his shame.

Yet despite relishing in his favorite pastime, something still felt off. He couldn’t place it, but ever since that brat had cut him within the dark field he had cast, he had a queasy feeling.

Thinking about it, he thought he overheard Sanguinar mention something about the lass being Faedra’s daughter? Perhaps he had unwittingly been poisoned.

Hmph. He would have to seek Sanguinar’s counsel after this war with the Trolls was over. As long as his friend was around, he would know what to do.

Thaladred nodded to himself, happy that he could leave all the heavy thinking to his best friend, and he could do all the easy things like smashing all the opponents that got in their way.

“Thaladred, enough daydreaming, I have the beast pinned, finish it!” Sanguinar yelled, breaking THaladred out of his fugue.

Approaching the Troll-bird hybrid, Thaladred saw that Sanguinar had cast a rope of pure mana onto the Trolls wings, and had it right where he wanted him.

Thaladred raised his axe high, preparing to take the life of this filth when suddenly, he felt his vision warp. Thinking it was nothing but a petty trick to mess with him, Thaladred roared out, and released the mana in his body to purge his mind of any malicious magics. At the same time, he brought his axe down with great fury.

As soon as the mana cleared his system, Thaladred’s vision returned to normal, and he was at a loss as to what was going on.

It had to be a joke! It simply had to be!

Resting beneath his axe was the half severed head of his best friend, and long time comrade.

The ancient Elf blinked up at Thaladred, unable to utter a word as his mouth moved for a few seconds before turning slack.

“Sanguinar…no!” Thaladred roared in anger as his eyes turned towards the bird Loa in uncontrolled rage.

“Idiot! I played no part in this!” The bird Loa cawed, then fled as Sanguinar’s binding dissipated.

From the second floor of a nearby building, Syra turned off the recording feature of her scrying orb, and softly chuckled into her hand.

Incriminating evidence in hand, Syra decided she would be confronting the brute at a later time.

For now, she would finish off the Loa, and the Trolls on the docks, then go support her husband.

Taking one last glance at the deceased man who dared refuse Varrus his seat on the Convocation, Syra clenched her fist in pride. They were a team, and she would never let anyone threaten her family without paying the price!