By the time the sun was touching the western hilltops Osran and Berri had caught a fair number of fish. Not surprisingly the girl had caught most of them, but Osran felt she was doing well to have caught two. As usual the bugs had come out in droves as the day approached its end. The wind had calmed and many fish could be seen jumping from the water as they ate the low flying insects. Due to the clouds that had moved in throughout the afternoon, twilight had arrived early. Osran saw the first troll come to the waters edge, perhaps twenty paces downstream from where she and Berri were sitting on rocks, in the middle of the brook.

It gave the air a sniff and looked around.

It took a moment or two of watching the creature cautiously wade into the water before she really understood what she was looking at. She had seen skulls of the woodland trolls before. Among the orc of the Sudakkar Wasteland these creatures were considered one of the most worthy of foes. Few warriors had ever seen them, fewer still had confronted and killed one. The problem was, woodland trolls were not typically alone. Where there was one, the warriors claimed, there would be others. She was amazed when the creature snatched a good sized fish from the water and tossed it onto the bank. Osran saw two other trolls, smaller than the first, moving up to the edge of the brook.

With slow movements Osran tapped Berri’s leg and pointed at the troll, saying in a low voice, “Crugmee, trodeen, kel.”

“Huh?” Berri looked at her, confused then glanced to where she was pointing. Startled, the girl nearly fell off the rock she had perched on, “Bethlya’s Sacred Hole!”

The troll glance in their direction, ducked low and made a strange clicking-growl sound. Berri scrambled from one rock to the next, dropping her line into the water, but grabbing the fish as she half slipped, half jumped, into the brook. “Ijah! Troll!”

Berri started to run towards the shelter, splashing through water that was knee deep. The first troll started to run towards Berri, less hampered by the water. It let loose a loud clacking cry as it advanced while the other two had quickly ducked out of sight.

The horse gave a distressed call, having caught the scent of the creature.

Osran dropped her fishing line and leapt from the rock in the direction of the troll. She splashed into the water and surged forward. The sound of troll calls echoed through the trees. She barely reached the creature ahead of it reaching Berri. She grabbed a fistful of ropy hair and the two of them careened into the shallows. Berri screamed, “Trolls!”

Osran yanked on its hair and smashed her fist into the side of the monster’s head. It raked her with it’s claws and tried to grab her face. Osran bit its hand, grabbed the other arm and then it was on top of her, strong legs wrapped around her midsection and she was pushed under the churning water. Caught off guard by the creature’s strength, she let go of the fistful of hair and clawed at its face. It yanked its hand free of her tightly clamped jaw, leaving a sizable strip of flesh. It bellowed in rage.

Keeping a tight grip on its arm, Osran dug her nails into its flesh as its other hand came down over and over again, trying to slash her face with its claws. She turned away from the attacks and struggled to get her knife, which was sheathed at the small of her back. One of the creature’s attacks landed true and she was sliced down the side of her face, from brow to neck and across her right ear. She tried to surge upwards against the creature, it grabbed her face, claws digging in. She managed to draw her knife.

The troll slammed her back down into the water as she buried her blade to the hilt in its side, just below the ribs. She felt the reverberation of the troll’s bellow of pain more than she heard it. Osran twisted the knife, the things legs released their vice-like grip on her and it half dragged her to her feet as she kept a hold of its arm.

She spat water and blood and gasped for air. There was a flurry of activity around her, on the far bank of the brook she spotted the other trolls, Ijah splashed into the water, “Let go of it!”

Osran let go of the trolls arm and yanked her knife clear. It staggered away from her, dark blood flowing from the wound in its side. She stumbled backwards and nearly fell. Ijah’s sword dismembered one of the thing’s legs and an upward sweep of the blade stuck across its chest as it fell into the pool.

A rock, nearly the size of her head, slammed into Osran’s chest. She fell back into the shallows, stunned from the blow. Instinct keep her moving, she rolled over and scrambled up onto the grassy bank. She spotted Berri, near the shelter, the girl had loaded her crossbow and set the stock to her shoulder. Osran gasped for breath through the burning pain of broken ribs. Another stone smacked into the earth with mud splattering force, once again she stood and turned to face their foes.

Ijah moved around a large troll that was trying to smash her with a club, another of the creatures thrashed in the shallows near the far bank, both of its arms had been removed. There were at least two more along the trees, the two smaller ones she had seen before they attacked. One of them hurled a stone, missing Ijah by a hair’s width. Osran gave an enraged bellow and charged towards the creature with the club.

Her reckless charge distracted the troll enough for Ijah to move in on its flank, she buried half the length of her blade into the creature’s side, thrusting upwards. Osran had almost engaged when another stone took her in the shoulder, staggering her. The nearest troll careened into her, the two of them went down, Osran lost her knife and lay stunned under it for a moment or two. Thankfully the creature seemed to have been slain by Ijah as it made no movements.

By the time Osran had regained her senses, had shifted the troll off of her and found her footing the fight seemed to be done. Berri was shouting, “Take their heads off! Take their heads!”

Osran wiped at the blood dribbling into her eyes. She looked around for her knife but did not spot it. Ijah was moving from troll to troll following Berri’s instructions. One of the trolls on the far bank gave a screech and sat up, she saw that it had been shot by Berri at least twice, another bolt struck its chest, “Stay down you ugly bitch!”

Ijah made her way to the troll Berri had just shot again, she thrust her blade into its throat, pushed down until she severed the spine. Then she stood there looking into the forest, watching and listening, long dollops of blood running down the length of her blade, dripping onto the ground. Osran half sat, half collapsed into the water, she started feeling around for her knife. She was confounded by an arm that had gone numb and the fact every breath she took was painful.

Eventually Ijah came to her, “Let me help you up.”

With effort Ijah dragged Osran to her feet and was able to start moving her towards the shelter. Osran pointed to where she had been sitting, “Knife, needful.”

“I’ll look for it in a bit. Berri, she’s scratched up pretty bad. Get some water boiling.”

“Did you decapitate them?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Ijah moved Osran to the shelter and gently helped her to sit on one of the misplaced wall stones. Berri was in the process of getting the fire started. Osran kept flexing the fingers of her numb arm, the shoulder was swollen and painful, though it did not seem broken. Ijah took a scrap of cloth and dabbed the side of her face that had been scratched, “You’re missing the tip of your ear.”

“Oh. Not pretty now?”

Ijah seemed taken aback by the question, “Ah, well… You’re going to have some interesting scars.”

“That okay. Make look mean.”

“I guess.”

Osran tapped Ijah’s chest with her finger, “Best warrior. War-leader.”

“Can you hold this in place? I should scout around the camp before we lose the rest of the light.” Ijah placed Osran’s hand on the cloth and gently pushed it against her wounds.

“Okay.”

Ijah picked up her sword and retrieved her scabbard before heading over to the brook. Berri moved the small pot, now filled with water, onto the fire. “You saved my life. Thank you Osran.”

“Okay.”

“Can I take a look at your wounds?”

“Okay.”

—