Chapter 7: Hunters

Fires burned in the trees as the battle began to dwindle from an all-out brawl into a few individual duals between combatants. Scorch marks along the bark gave off a sickly-sweet smell of burning sap and wood. The ground was littered with the corpses of troll-hunters and trolls alike.

Ambrosia walked through the carnage, mapping her steps to not step on the dead out of respect. Deep breaths of exhaustion and the pounding ache in her hands kept her company as she searched for her team. The armored corpses of the elves, dwarves, and others painted a grim picture of the chances that her teammates survived the encounter. Still, she wouldn’t be much of a captain if she didn’t at least try to find them.

A snapping branch caught her attention, and she turned towards the direction of the sound, raising her hammer into a defensive posture. As she looked through the trees, she saw someone walking towards her. A green cloak with its hood pulled up hid the face of the stranger. The brown leather on her cuirass peaked through the middle of their cloak, revealing the Celestial crest on the chest. Their hands were wrapped around the frame of a curved bow, fingers around a nocked arrow.

Ambrosia let out a sigh and relaxed, bringing her hammer down to her side. The figure pulled back their hood and revealed a slender elven face. Lira.

Her pale face was framed by messy brown bangs. Sweat beaded down her temple as she stared back at Ambrosia. Despite her slender frame, Ambrosia knew how lethal the hunter can be when set on a task. No doubt several of the arrows that sprouted from the fallen trolls had been hers.

“Captain.” Lira acknowledged. A small smile graced her serious expression. Ambrosia returned the smile and walked towards her.

“How many did we lose?” Ambrosia asked, hefting her war hammer over her shoulder as she walked.

“Too many to count right now. The bulk of the Church’s forces took the brunt of the counterattack once the battle began. Eres and I peeled off to get behind enemy lines to create chaos and confusion.” Lira wiped the sweat from her brow as she spoke.

“What about Baas and Tinsen? I recognize the fire work on some of the groups here. Not many mages in the Church’s militia.” Ambrosia gestured towards the burn marks on the nearby pile of burnt troll corpses.

Lira approached the pile and kneeled to examine the bodies. She lifted a charred three-fingered hand and brought it close to her face, only for it to crumble into ash a moment later.

She wiped the ash from her hands onto her breeches and stood.

“Definitely Baas’ handiwork.” Lira confirmed.

“We can probably follow the charred bodies and find them at the end. We cleared out four encampments so far, most of the vanguard moved inwards towards the forest center. My bet would be that Baas and Tinsen decided that the danger would be worth a few experience points and carried on with them to the most dangerous parts of the forest. “ Lira looked over Ambrosia’s shoulder and saw distant flares of light beaming in the far end of the forest. The trees and overgrowth of thorned bushes obscured the direct view of the ongoing battle in the forest’s center.

“Idiots.” Ambrosia muttered, wiping her hands over her face.

“We need Tinsen here. I’m fine on health, but we need our healer in case we’re caught off guard by a flanking maneuver or more reinforcements. Who knows how many managed to escape in the trees and are planning an ambush after we think we won?”

Lira nodded.

“And…” Ambrosia began.

Lira raised an eyebrow at the captain’s hesitation. A far cry from the tactical and confident soldier she had come to know and respect.

“We need them to examine something I found. A gate species I believe. It looked female to me, but I can’t be sure. They strung up several others that looked like it, but this one was…different. “ Ambrosia looked away trying to hide her shame of being afraid. She trained her entire life to hunt trolls, and a small creature like the one she found at the border troll camp put the fear of the gods into her entire being.

“It used some sort of magic I’ve never seen before. Purple flames, and a nimbus of dark energy around her. I wasn’t close enough to see her level but given the circumstances of the gate appearing here and her magic…I think there’s demon work at play.”

Lira’s eyes widened at the theory.

“I know, I know. I wouldn’t even consider the possibility if anything else made sense. Its too coincidental that this…girl…was able to kill off a troll twice her size after first appearing. Even a youth troll at that height should have been at least level 15 by now. But she burned it into cinders like it was nothing.”

Lira stared at the ground for a while, absorbing the information. She began to pace in front of the tree nearest to them with her arms crossed.

“Gate species take decades, even centuries before they adapt to the ambient mana of Lias. If it’s truly a new species, then she shouldn’t even have a class. Even our species took a few hundred years before we produced the first caster class.”

Lira stopped in her tracks, staring into the forest floor.

“Demons…again?” She kept walking until a distant explosion snapped her attention back into reality.

Ambrosia shrugged her war hammer off her shoulder and faced the direction of the explosion. “We can focus on that once we regroup with everyone. It won’t make a difference if we don’t have any magic experts with us to examine the gate species.” She began walking towards the growing noise of battle in the forest center, Lira silently following.

Moonlight filtered through the dense forest canopy, its light reflecting off the armored warriors of the Church of Celestial’s forces. Each warrior donned castle-forged steel plate armor embossed with the Crest of the Celestials on the upper left chest, a shield with the four stars representing the four recognized gods of the Church. The rows of warriors maintained a disciplined march deeper into the forest as the sounds of sporadic fighting echoed in every direction.

At their front marched their leader. His black armor lined with silver trim singled him out as an officer among the warriors. Twin swords rested in their scabbards on either side of his waist, ready for quick deployment. The elven general scanned the area as they marched, paying no mind to the distant clashes of other battalions with various troll villages as he led his men into the heart of the forest.

Intermittent spears flew past him towards the main body of his battalion only to be rebuffed by a raised shield. Small groups of warriors would peel off from the rear of the formation to answer the charge of any group of trolls that dared to challenge them to close-quarters combat and were swiftly cut down. The general trusted his men, knowing that their disciplined instincts would protect him from any wayward attempt at his life. He continued to scan the forest, eyes searching for his true mission’s target.

After marching for a few minutes, his eyes came across a new village. He raised his left hand to give the order to halt. The sound of boots stamped to a halt in unison behind him. He walked towards a large oak in front of him, leaning against the tree for balance. He peered from the side of the tree towards the troll village and examined their defenses. Barricades of hastily crafted rows of pikes jutted outwards from the village along the border. Trolls with purple war paint along their faces and chests were patrolling within the confines of their defenses, each peering out into the darkness as they scanned for intruders.

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Various standing torches gave light to a grim display of savagery: pikes adorned with several races of victims that stood as silent witnesses to the troll’s ambition. Their varied expressions of pain and anguish conveyed that they died in pain and surprise as they fell victim to the troll’s frequent ambushes.

The general clenched his jaw at the sight of the rows of trophies the trolls brazenly displayed. The various guards equipped with church steel and armor made more sense now as he examined the various members of the tribe. Behind them were more of their tribe rushing from hut to hut, carrying bundles of arrows or large clay pots of black liquid from their stores to their front line. The general noticed that the trolls would dip their arrows in the black liquid and store the arrows in their quivers as they prepared for an expected assault.

He turned back towards his battalion, searching for an answer to the oil arrows he knew would cause a problem for his troops during combat. His eyes came across a stout dwarf, his red beard flowing from his hooded face, holding his absurdly large crossbow in front of his leather cuirass. His green cloak told the general that this was one of his specialists that the Church attached to his battalion. Troll hunters.

The general pointed at the dwarf and beckoned him over with a gesture. The dwarf followed the command and quietly approached the general, hiding behind the same tree.

“Which one are you?” whispered the general.

“Eres, sir.” The dwarf replied. “Hunter class, trap specialist.”

“Any of your traps already in their village?” The general nodded towards the huts ahead of them.

Eres peered around the tree and examined the paint color of the trolls and huts, then shook his head.

“No purple. Took care of red, yellow, blue, and orange so far, but these ones are inner trolls. My partner and I split up before we tried to move deeper into the woods. Figured we’d want our entire team together if we wanted a real chance at surviving an encounter with these inner tribes.”

The general nodded in understanding. He understood that the deeper the trolls lived inside the forest determined their place in the tribe hierarchy. The further out of the forest a village lived, the weaker the tribe was deemed, and was then given the least amount of cover and protection of the woods. The trolls that lived deeper in the woods were among the tribes of infamy and strength. Each inner tribe boasted higher-level trolls and greater feats of strength in combat. Rumors always swirled around the tribes of the heart of the forest, given that not many of survived an encounter with them, but the church had not been able to map much of the inner forest in decades. Too many scouts lost their lives trying to gain intelligence about their defenses and abilities of the members of their tribes.

“Any other specialists with you?” The general asked, still peering over into the village.

Eres turned towards the battalion behind them and made a sharp clicking sound with his tongue.

Two cloaked figures made their way from behind the formation and approached the tree. They stopped a few feet away and pulled back their hoods. A Tabaxi and Dragonborn revealed their faces. The Tabaxi had mixed colors of orange, black, and white fur along its face, weaving a natural camouflage in the dark forest. Cat-like eyes stared at the general as it nodded in silent acknowledgement. The cloak hid most of his body, but the slender frame and lack of obvious weapons gave away that it was most likely a caster class that relied on magic as its defense.

Towering next to the Tabaxi was a formidable figure. The dragonborn’s green scales on its head and face glistened in the moonlight like shining emeralds. Taller and broader than the Tabaxi, it too was weaponless under the green cloak. Both sported the same type of leather cuirass underneath their cloaks, the Crest of the Celestials peaking through the green fabric where the cloak parted in the center. The green fabric did little to conceal his scales, much less so for his imposing claws at the end of his large forearms.

“Tinsen, Druid class. Healer specialist” the Tabaxi softly said. His feline eyes unblinking as he spoke.

“Baas, Mage class. Fire specialist.” The dragonborn growled. His voice reverberated in the night air. Rows of sharp teeth revealed themselves as he spoke, his reptilian eyes glowing bright green with two vertical slits gazing into the general’s direction.

The general surveyed the troll village with a discerning eye, acknowledging the presence of Tinsen, Baas, and Eres. “This tribe,” he mused, “is more cunning than their kin. Their defenses, reinforced with border pikes and reservoirs of oil, pose a significant threat. Our soldiers are fearless, but it's my duty to spare them from needless harm under a barrage of flaming arrows.”

Turning to the trio, he posed a direct question, “Can you neutralize those border defenses?”

Baas responded with a feral grin, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. Emerging from under his cloak, his hands began to move in an intricate pattern, as he stepped forward, intoning a spell. With each step, his voice grew, echoing through the forest, drawing the attention of the village.

Alerted, the trolls scrambled. From their huts, they seized spears and bows, hastily preparing for confrontation. The guards, in a rush, drenched their arrows in oil, the tension palpable in their hurried movements.

Baas, now a thunderous presence, halted mere meters from the village. The air around him crackled with the impending release of magic. In front of him, rows of trolls stood defensively, spears and flaming arrows at the ready.

Then, with a dramatic flair, Baas unleashed his power. From his palms burst two orbs of intense orange flame. With a fluid motion, he hurled the first, targeting the oil stores near a gaggle of archers. Upon impact, a fiery explosion ripped through the border, scattering the pikes, and engulfing nearby trolls in a blaze. The second fireball followed, arcing gracefully into the heart of the village, igniting another explosion. Panic replaced the trolls' initial readiness, their cries of alarm echoing through the night.

Eres, seizing his moment, prepared his crossbow with practiced ease. From beneath his cloak, he retrieved a small bag filled with black powder, piercing it with his bolt. He aimed deliberately, his body steady as he calibrated his shot.

With a calm exhale, Eres released the bolt. It soared, a streak of deadly precision, cutting through the air past Baas and into the heart of the inferno. The impact triggered another explosion, more intense than the first, catapulting the remaining trolls backward, their defensive line now in disarray.

The general watched, a hint of approval in his eyes, as the skilled troll-hunters dismantled the village's defenses with a combination of fiery might and tactical precision. The battlefield, once a site of organized resistance, was now a scene of chaos and confusion, testament to the effectiveness of their unique abilities.

The general unsheathed his swords and punched his fist into the air. “Advance!”

The men behind him roared in confirmation, breaking ranks, and charging towards the village. All decorum and order were replaced with ferocity and blood lust as the soldiers ran past Eres and Baas, leaving the general and the trio of troll-hunters behind.

Baas turned and walked back towards the general and his fellow troll hunters, flames and chaos running rampant behind him. His dragon-like features silhouetted and made prominent by the growing wall of orange flames behind him. “Think you can handle it from here?” he growled, a smirk conveying pride in his work.

The general chuckled at the lack of usual respect and stiffness he had become accustomed to when speaking to his rank-and-file subordinates. Results speak louder than military etiquette though, and he took no offense at the mage’s tone.

“We’ll handle this batch just fine. What of you all? We can always use more shock and awe like you can do in case the trolls deeper in the forest have better defenses. From what I can tell, they only get slightly smarter the deeper we go in.”

Eres spoke first. “I’d rather have us all together before we try to move deeper. We’ve been separated from our captain and need to make sure she’s alright.” He rolled his shoulders as he spoke. “Besides, I want to see what came from the gate this time”

The general smiled at the dwarf’s bluntness. “Very well. Our orders are to push as deep as we can with minimal casualties. Should we encounter any real resistance, I’ll dispatch a messenger to find another healer.”

He turned and began to sprint towards the ongoing battle.

Footsteps drew the trio of hunters’ attention, turning to see their captain and Lira jogging towards them. Ambrosia’s short blonde hair disorganized and face muddied told the tale of a decent fight.

Eres smiled towards the sight of his leader, pleased that his entire team had survived thus far. The largest force to ever venture into the troublesome creature’s domain had kept him on edge since before they left the Hunter Lodge in Mar Shota. He knew that the gate opening again near troll lands meant that they would deploy with the main Church forces, but he still couldn’t stomach the thought of losing any of his comrades he had fought with for years now. Ambushing tribes, scouting the woods, and protecting convoys of wagons along the border roads were easy enough for the team to handle. But a full invasion of the forest has never been attempted before in the Church’s history.

Ambrosia and Lira came to a halt with the rest of their group, their captain slightly out of breath after running for a period of time.

“A little late to the party aren’t ya?” Eres poked, a smile forming beneath his red beard.

“We have to circle back.” Ambrosia said between sharp breaths. She looked towards Tinsen and Baas. “I need you both to examine something.”

Tinsen tilted his head to the side in curiosity.

Baas crossed his arms over his chest. “If its another extra large troll you killed, then no. We get it, you’re strong, captain.”

She stepped closer towards Baas, her stern expression unimpeded by his joke. “They’re back.”