Marshal Elimon briefed them as they moved to the fields surrounding the city. He had to load them into a carriage pulled by the sleek silver horses the elves bred. The king’s livery marked the sides of the coach, and a squad of mounted knights escorted the marshal and the companions to the battlefield.

“Some Hunters were excavating a temple of some sort when they discovered a second labyrinth of chambers below the first. It was below those chambers that they found a troll breeding pit and whatever was controlling them. I can only say that it looks like a large humanoid dressed in rags.” He paused as the carriage rattled over a bridge, jolting the passengers. The white stone city flashed by the windows, and guards and soldiers kept crowding citizens off the main thoroughfare they traveled.

“We plan to meet them on the field. We cannot let them run rampant through the kingdom. The city will be safe behind the barrier, but the surrounding towns and villages will be destroyed if we allow them to go loose.” Marshal Elimon said grimly.

“What exactly do you want our help for?” Wali asked the question that hung in the air like a pink elephant.

“My troops can hold the trolls. I am confident we can defeat them on the field. Our mages cannot scry the thing that leads them, however. My scouts have not returned from trying to spy on it.” Vinny gulped at that. He was as much of a scout as a healer. “I need someone to get eyes on the leader and, at the minimum, to distract it. If we can break the control it holds over the trolls, they will become disorganized. We can readily dismantle them if that happens.”

Yacob asked, “What happened to the Hunters?”

“The one that made it to the city and warned us was the only survivor we know of,” Elimon replied.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and the door opened into the brilliant daylight. They stood before a flat grassy field. Wali estimated that a few thousand troops stood in formations spread across the grass.

Hundreds of mounted knights moved in small blocks through the area, and another few thousand archers stood behind them all. Moving in pairs and trios were mages, long staves, wands, and a lack of swords or bows marked them out. Each platoon of fifty soldiers marched with fifty archers and a team of mages. The cavalry moved semi-independently. Memories of parades and garrison duty flashed through Wali’s mind. These elves were professional soldiers, and their discipline showed.

An elevated platform was next to the carriage, and the Marshal led them onto the stage. A large table was set in the middle. The map table was controlled by an elven mage standing at one end, a large crystal ball in his hands. Colored sand marked terrain and obstacles, and red clay figures of tiny trolls crawled through the sand trees toward blue clay figures marking the troop formations. Each little piece was animated, and a larger red clay figure walked behind the troll figures. It was humanoid but featureless.

Everyone gaped at this display of finely tuned magical prowess. The table was a real-time representation of the forces on the field. Each platoon of elves was marked by five figures; a pair of swordsmen, a pair of bowmen, and a little robed figure. This reminded Wali of tiny plastic army men from Earth or the miniatures his grandkids had played TTRPGs with. Each troll was twice the size of each elf, and their details were near perfect.

Trolls were monsters of old, now a part of the typical fauna of the world. Large creatures, some two and a half to three meters tall. They were built like twisted gorillas with long arms that drug on the ground and short legs. Their rubbery green skin was thick and resistant to damage. They had long, tusk-like fangs and claw-like fingernails. Aside from being big and tough, they were nominally intelligent and could regenerate lost limbs in minutes. Decapitation or complete destruction of the flesh was necessary to kill them.

Troll breeding pits were things of nightmares. Trolls could cannibalize themselves, relying on mana to fuel their regeneration. Over time a breeding pit would fill with hundreds of trolls, all starved and crazed from cannibalizing one another. When the breeding pit finally disgorged its terrible plague, few nations could stop such a tide of monsters.

The Marshal took stock and received several quick briefings from his staff. He looked at the table and pointed at the largest figure. The red clay humanoid stood twice the height of the troll figures. “That is your target, and I need eyes on that thing. If you can distract it, do so. Understand?”

Wali, Yacob, Vinny, and Sas’cha looked at the thing, then out in the distance. The trolls would reach the edge of the field soon. They would have to skirt the battle if they did not want to get caught in the initial wave.

Wali said, “Hold on, let me try something.” He called Tag and sent the totem out to scout the being. At the edge of the forest, he saw the forerunners of the troll horde, hundreds of the beasts, if not a thousand or more, advanced through the forest like horrendous locusts. Everything was stripped bare in their path. Nothing green existed below five meters. It had all been stripped bare. Tag flew on unseen by the trolls.

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Pushing back into the trees, Tag suddenly swerved off. He felt the totem spirit panic, “No, flee! Run away!” Tag screeched, and he lost control of his connection to the spirit. Wali was slammed back into his body, and he swayed. Tag returned like a bullet, huddled inside Wali, full of fear. Whatever ‘it’ was had the Nighthawk owl terrified. This caused Wali much concern as the bird was usually fearless.

Rubbing his sudden headache, he said, “Not even one of my totem spirits can get close.”

Marshal Elimon said, “We have tried that already. That’s why we need real eyes on the thing. Take this.” He handed Wali a crystal orb etched with a ring of runes. “Get this close, and we will be able to see through it.

Piercing whistles filled the air as a wall of trolls started to file out of the tree line. The marshal turned and spoke into the tip of a short thick wand. “Archers ready.”

The command was echoed by officers across the field as thousands of elven archers raised bows and took aim. The marshal glanced back at the companions with a look that said, get moving.”

Taking the hint, they retreated off the platform and headed to the side of the vast field. They paused and watched for a moment as the meter-long arrow shafts were loosed in a massive volley, then another, and another. The arrows began to fall like rain among the trolls. Bellows of pain and rage filled the air as they struck. The arrows didn’t harm the trolls much, as they healed moments after their flesh was pierced. A small few fell as an arrow found an eye or somehow pierced a skull.

Wali wondered at the effectiveness for just a moment. But his question was answered as the mages all raised their implements, and the arrows burst into writhing thorns. Bramble bushes sprouted in an instant from the shafts of the arrows. “Vampiric Thornwood arrow shafts. Feeds on the blood after the mages activate the growth.” Vinny said as he watched. In an instant, the front line of trolls had become an obstacle.

Wali turned to his friends, “Any ideas beyond wing it?” He looked at each of them.

Yacob shook his head, both fear and courage writ on his face.

Sas’cha said, “Stealth, I think. I can only hide myself well.”

Vinny said, “I can hide myself too. I grew up not far from here.”

Wali looked at Yacob, “I’ve got you covered.” He looked toward the edge of the growing battle. The trolls were fighting through the still-growing Vampiric Thornwood brambles and relying on their monstrous regeneration to get them through. They had begun a broken charge at the blocks of infantry. Arrows and spells fell among the trolls as they charged. Wali raised his voice over the growing commotion, “Vinny, take the lead. We will move fast until we get to the forest, then go quietly.”

Everyone nodded, and Vinny began to run. He moved very quickly, faster than Wali had seen before. Sas’cha kept up with him easily, Wali struggled to keep up, and Yacob began to lag behind. They ran along the backside of the formations of archers that were spreading out into long lines. Bows fired inconsistently as opportunity allowed. Most had drawn swords, ready to reinforce the infantry if needed.

The trolls hit the bunched infantry shield walls, smashing their way into the formations. Long military forks were used to pin or control them. Axe-wielding soldiers moved in close to the trolls, chopping and trying to remove limbs. Soldiers were rent or sent flying as the trolls swung long, strong arms into the formations. Mages poured on fire, acid, or biting cold. Many troopers would die today.

The forest loomed on the companions as they skirted the lines of the battle. The trolls were not trying to flank or anything creative. They were driven mad with hunger and chose to charge the defenders. Sas’cha disappeared into a cloud of shadows at the forest edge, and Vinny blended into the background. Wali wrapped himself and Yacob in a cocoon of Void-Sense, carefully modulating it to allow them to see and hear out but no one in.

Vinny was just visible enough for them to follow. They moved at a much slower pace, careful not to break twigs and to avoid the few trolls that had lagged behind their brethren. They were not here to fight. The boys did not see Sas’cha, but they heard her sometime later.

She hissed at them from the edge of a small ridge, revealing herself momentarily. She waved them over, and Wali enclosed all four in a bubble of complete silence and invisibility.

Her face was scrunched up in anger and fear, “It is there! I do not think we can fight it. I think it is more powerful than Marsai.” She hissed.

Yacob and Vinny blanched. Wali’s face fell as he knew the next few moments would be terrible.

He said to them, “You three go back, help in the battle. I’ll be there shortly.”

Yacob grabbed Wali by the shoulder, “Just what stupid thing are you planning now?”

Wali grinned, “We need to get the crystal in there for the elves. I can do that much. As for distracting it? Well…you see….”

Sas’cha grabbed his other arm, “No. Just no. You come back with us.”

Wali shook his head, “I can teleport. I can get away. You three need to get away. Maybe the elves will know what it is after they see it.”

Vinny said, “Let’s get the hell away while the dummy here does his thing. No reason for all of us to die.” He slipped out of the bubble and back the way they had come.

Yacob said, “You get away. Promise me nothing stupid.”

Wali looked at his friend, “I promise to do nothing stupid.”

“Nothing I would consider stupid. Nothing you think is clever or smart but is actually dumb. Okay?”

“Fine, nothing dangerous, clever, or stupid.” Wali agreed, chagrined.

Sas’cha squeezed his arm and took Yacob’s hand. They faded from sight, not perfectly invisible but close enough.

Wali could feel the fear of his totems and even Sas’cha. This was far beyond anything dangerous he had experienced before. When the others had gone, Wali slowly counted to three hundred to give them time to get far away.

From the other side of the ridge, he felt something’s attention fall on his little bubble of seclusion.

A raspy voice, loud in the silent forest, said, “You can come out, little human. I know you are there.”