“This feels just like old times,” said Marina merrily as she followed her friends up the mountain path.

“What do you mean?” asked Teleri.

“We were trying to rescue Friedrich for so long and then we spent ages on Captain Alden’s boat. It’s nice to be out in the wilderness doing what we do best. Hunting monsters and enriching ourselves along the way.”

“It is easy to forget life’s sorrows when we breathe in the fresh air and find ourselves filled with purpose,” said Teleri. “My only regret is that I was not in Keldracht long enough to lay waste to every demon inhabiting it. I will settle for killing trolls for the time being.”

Pheston chuckled. “You’d have fit in with me just fine in that hellhole,” he said. “Although I suspect if you charged into demon towers and strongholds without care for strategy then you wouldn’t have lasted very long. It’s one thing fighting them in our plane, where they’re not used to the way of things, and another entirely when they’re in their own territory with many allies at their beck and call.”

Friedrich snorted up ahead and took a small side path that led up to an outcropping. Here stood three tall moss-covered stones in a line, each of them as tall as Teleri and with runes running around the outside and a single larger rune carved in the centre. At the foot of the stones sat pewter bowls that were filled with rainwater and dried out flowers.

From this outcropping, Friedrich could see over the trees and across the river to the town of Millstone. It was a pleasant place up close, but it was beautiful from a distance. He could see the water wheel turning to power the timber-cutting saw. He could see the small stream of smoke escaping from the roof of the inn. Had it not been for what he saw at his feet, he would have felt at complete peace.

Before the stones lay the rotting corpse of a wolf and Friedrich knew now that this was what he had smelled. He turned back into a human and walked towards the wolf, kneeling down beside it and looking at its maggot-infested wounds.

“This is the work of a blade, not a troll,” he said.

“Ah,” said Pheston. “It must have been a sacrifice to Hvitrald.”

“Vitrald?” asked Marina.

Pheston cleared his throat. “Huh-vit-rald,” he said, emphasising each syllable clearly. “He’s the Corobathian god of the dead. We ask him to guide our loved ones to his realm, should their souls be lost in the aether.”

Teleri muttered something under her breath that only Friedrich could hear. “Heresy,” she had said, but she dared not say it any louder, not wanting to find herself in another argument with Pheston after they made their peace.

“No sign of the trolls,” said Friedrich, looking back to the path leading further up the mountain.

“Trolls!” roared Pheston, thumping his chest and making the others jump a mile. “Come face us, you cowards! We will settle our differences in bloody combat.”

The party waited patiently for a few seconds, expecting to hear the thumping footsteps of the burly beasts making their way towards them, yet nothing came.

“How long should we wait?” asked Marina.

“Use your lightning,” said Friedrich. “Send up a bolt to signal our position.”

“Good thinking,” she said, pointing her staff to the sky. She focused her arcane energy and summoned forth a bolt of lightning that shot straight upwards before dissipating.

The four waited once more and a minute later still found themselves alone by the runestones.

“Nothing else for it,” said Pheston with a shrug.

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He turned around and kneeled on the soggy ground before the runestones. He quietly chanted prayers to Hvitrald, apologising for not being present in on Terna to commune with him. He asked the god to watch over his ancestors, listing off countless names. To finish his prayer, he said that he did not know many who may have perished in his absence and will pray again for those as he learns of their fates.

“Shall we proceed up the mountain?” asked Pheston, rising to his feet. “Perhaps we can track the trolls to their den and weed them out at the source.”

“Yes,” said Friedrich, opting to remain a human for now. He took the lead with his sword and shield ready to fend off any surprise attacks.

The roughly hewn steps turned to a lesser trodden path as the quartet walked along. Few people wandered beyond the stones, deeming the short pilgrimage to them sufficient. After all, the people of Millstone were much too busy to venture into the dangerous mountains where dwelled unsightly beasts and dangerous ruins.

As the walk continued, the steps turned to dirt and the dirt turned to snow. It took a surprisingly short amount of time, and it felt as though they had left Milltown far behind, but a single glance over Friedrich’s shoulder revealed the village to still be sitting there, albeit notably smaller than before.

Marina hugged her cloak around herself as a small wind picked up. “I-I-I’m…s-s-o…c-c-cold,” she said.

“Perhaps you should have learned fire magic?” remarked Teleri.

“That’s definitely the solution,” said Friedrich, rolling his eyes. “I think I picked up a tome containing the secrets of a campfire spell before I left the inn.”

“Play nice,” guffawed Pheston, slapping Friedrich on the back. “We can’t have everyone in the party falling out all the time now, can we?”

“Quiet!” said Teleri in as loud a whisper as she could.

“I’m defending—"

“No, it’s not that,” said the elf, holding up a hand. “Listen.”

Friedrich could hear nothing, so he turned into a fox and listened in perfect stillness. There came a faint crunching sound as though someone was walking on the snow somewhere up ahead. He could not tell the size of the creature, but it was certainly not something as light as his current form. Was it a human? Was it a troll?

He transformed back and turned to his friends. “What do we think?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” said Marina, biting her lip.

“Nor I,” said Pheston, sticking a finger in his ear and wiggling it around. “Adjusting back to this climate must have clogged me up.”

“Eugh,” murmured Teleri, wrinkling her nose before shaking her head. “I do not know what it is that lies ahead, but we should approach cautiously if we decide to approach at all.”

“All in favour of approach,” said Friedrich, holding up his shield-bearing arm.

“Aye,” said Pheston.

“Agreed,” said Teleri.

“Yes,” said Marina, “but let’s make it quick so we can get back to a warm fire.”

Friedrich marched on up the hill which started to level off. Along either side of him were low-hanging cliffs that formed a snowy pass below. Poking through the snow and hugging the wall were a couple of pale blue flowers, having survived in the frozen conditions against all odds.

“Merry blues,” said Pheston quietly, following Friedrich’s eyeline. “Used by alchemists for potions that help you stave off the cold.”

As the two men walked through the pass, Teleri saw Marina grab a couple of the flowers and shove them inside her bag.

“Tracks,” said Friedrich, looking over his shoulder. “We’re not following trolls, we’re following humans.”

As Friedrich watched the road ahead, the others inspected the boot prints in the ground.

“Where did they come from?” asked Marina.

Pheston looked up to the cliff top, sitting no more than ten feet above him. “Up there, I would suspect,” he said.

“Bend over,” said Teleri. “I need to use you as a stepping stone.

“Eh? Alright.”

Pheston put his hands on the cliff and leaned against it with an arched back. Teleri hopped onto him and sprung up, reaching out and grabbing onto the lip of the cliff. She silently hoisted herself up and landed on the snow.

After a moment of silence, she looked down to her friends. “We will not find any trolls,” she said.

“That doesn’t bode well,” said Friedrich, placing the goblin mask on his face.

As the green verminous goblin, he sunk his spindly fingers into the crevices on the stone and climbed to the top to join Teleri. Before him was a lake of red sitting in the middle of the sea of white. The trolls that they sought were no more, having been hacked into dozens of pieces, leaving not a single one alive.

“Do we think a friend or foe is behind this?” she asked Friedrich, who looked to her and grunted his response.

“They’re all dead?” asked Marina from down below.

“Yes,” replied Teleri. “And there was no fire needed to keep these beasts down.”

“What should we do?”

“If memory serves,” said Pheston, scratching his nose. “There should be an old temple up ahead. I would bet you any money, we’re dealing with tomb raiders here.”

“Tomb raiders?” asked Marina.

“Yes, it’s as it sounds. They raid old tombs for the wealth left behind by the dead and those who pay their respects.”

“And these tomb raiders can deal with trolls with such violence?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Pheston with a snort. “The ones in these tombs have a habit of not staying dead. To not be a capable fighter is to join the ranks of the dead and undead.”