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Chapter 60: Terror at the Trail

Chapter 60: Terror at the Trail

Chapter 60: Terror at the Trail

“Damn it! Those are trolls ahead,” murmured Warlik.

Alcar peeked over the low wall near the foot of the hilly slope where the group of adventurers had stopped.

Ahead, a small cluster of trees lined the trail proper, and should have marked the point that they at last joined their indented route.

But there was a dangerous, oversized problem: three trolls.

To the left, where the companions intended to travel, the northern section of the trail wound through a narrow pass and crossed a bridge. Beyond the bridge, Alcar could see the three trolls devouring the carcass of a shaggy-haired cow, a couple of hundred yards from where the small group of companions had stopped.

Each was a humanoid, but twice the size of a human, with blotchy gray-blue hairy skin, ragged clothing, and long teeth and claws.

“At least they’ve already eaten,” Alcar murmured.

“Trolls have appetites that are never satisfied,” said Ubund.

“Could we go back the other way?” asked Olynka, looking to the right.

Alcar looked that way – the southern side of the trail snaked away through the hills in the direction, he knew, of Gilmour Village, and after that, joined the road back towards Dathmir or Katresburg.

“I don’t think that’s an option,” said Etienne, sniffing and scratching at his nose as he spoke. “It’s a hell of a long way back, and this is the only pass that leads to the rift valley on the map. That’s why this route is so important. It stretches all the way from northern Dathmir province to Khranul.”

“Then we carry on north,” Olynka replied firmly. “But first, the trolls will need to be distracted somehow – enticed to come off the trail, so that we can get past.”

“Any suggestions?” asked Warlik. The lizard warrior looked calm, but Alcar knew that even with such an experienced swordsman in their midst, it would be impossible to fight their way through. And arrows would make little impact on the beasts – troll hides were famously as tough as bark.

Just then, Alcar realized that all of the group were looking at him. “Uh...” he began. “I am still learning my sorcery, remember.”

“A distraction is all we need,” said Etienne thoughtfully. “You don’t need to take them out.”

“Well, I could certainly try something,” Alcar replied, briefly pondering his previous work setting fire to objects and enlarging the bug back at the military bunkhouse. “But I’d probably need to get closer.”

“Follow me, then,” said Ubund, and began to move, bow in hand.

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“Yes. And I’ll go with them,” replied Etienne. “I’m stealthy. The rest of you, head down to the trees.”

Nobody waited for Alcar to comment before they started to move swiftly on. He pulled out a pinch of the razor reed that he had gained from the herbalist and put it on his tongue as instructed.

Then he followed.

Walking behind Ubund and Etienne, Alcar silently prayed that the trolls wouldn’t notice the three of them reaching the end of the low wall, and then cutting diagonally downwards across the hillside.

Brutus hurried on just ahead of his master, crossing the slope with ease. It was immediately clear to Alcar, however, that he was much less sure-footed over this terrain than either the dog or the two companions ahead of him. It was breezy and his cloak flapped around, the vials and jars inside it clacked together noisily as he moved, and even with his staff to help, he found himself stumbling and sending pebbles bouncing away from his feet. “Slow down a little,” he murmured.

But Etienne and Ubund didn’t appear to hear him.

To his right, Olynka, Warlik and Leppie had crossed the wall and were making their way to the trees. It looked like they would make it there without difficulty. But just then, Alcar heard a shout from up the slope behind them, and he paused, looking back.

There, making their way down the hillside that he and his companions had just traversed, were several armored soldiers... and they were almost as close as the trolls. All of them were dressed in the same brown tabard that Alcar had seen worn by the Imperial troops both in Katresburg and at the bunkhouse.

And behind them was the familiar figure of an elf – Gonida the herbalist.

“There they are,” she cried, pointing. “Your fugitives. Now give me my reward!”

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“Shit.”

Alcar looked ahead again, to where Brutus was loping ahead of him after Etienne and Ubund. The trolls had paused their feasting and were looking up – if they hadn’t heard his clumsy descent, they had certainly noticed the soldiers and Gonida.

One of the creatures now began to charge across the bridge in a stooped walk, making use of its knuckles as well as its feet. Soon it had left the trail and was making its way up the hillside towards Ubund. The guide paused, and fired his bow, but although his arrow hit its target, it bounced off the troll’s tough hide.

Another arrow shot out, from the trees at the side of the trail this time. Olynka and the others had taken cover, and she was now shooting towards the Imperial soldiers. They slowed their downhill advance in response, raising their shields and progressing more cautiously. Then also divided into two groups of six, one making for the southern part of the trail, and the others heading directly for the trees where Olynka was standing.

Brutus, meanwhile, had caught sight of the advancing troll. The dog had stopped in his tracks, and scampered back to Alcar’s side.

“Good boy,” the apprentice sorcerer murmured, as the dog pulled in close to his legs. “We really are in trouble now. And I think my friends need my help.”

He stumbled further downhill away from the soldiers, steeling himself to move in the direction of the advancing troll, despite the obvious threat that it posed. Etienne had pulled in beside a small rock, frozen, dagger in his hand, while Ubund was stepping backwards, firing one arrow after another to little effect.

“Rac et weimannia!“ cried Alcar, focusing his mind on the advancing troll. And as he had hoped, purple–blue flame streamed out from his hand and in the direction of the monster. Perhaps he really was getting more control, as the treacherous herbalist had promised.

But has action was too slow, for the creature had already snatched Ubund by the leg. The guide yelped in pain, a noise that was swiftly followed by a furious screech from the troll as its upper half was wreathed in flame, and it began to shake and writhe.

Turning, the troll began to run back the way it had come, heading towards the river, and soon it was scrambling down the bank, still with flames wreathing its head and shoulders and Ubund’s limp form held in one huge fist.

And the other two trolls had now begun to advance onto the bridge.