The Troll Kingdom BR1 April 683

Snorri Skullsplitter was finding it hard to sleep. The stars shone brightly over the camp of the Sturmheim warriors and all was calm, yet he was worried. The camp was well defended, with plenty of men on watch at all times, but would it be enough? The Trolls were a dangerous foe fast strong and silent. He and his warriors had killed a few in their lair, but more had escaped and he had tracked them to the cave systems near the camp. But more tracks had been noticed after each night, and many of the cave mouths in the mountain were sealed by giant rocks. It seemed the Trolls were preparing for the men from Sturmheim, barricading their holes and building up their numbers. His scouts had found more tracks around the mountain so there could be hundreds of the creatures which would be more than his force could handle. He got out of his blankets and went for a walk around the perimeter. His warriors were all alert on challenged him as he moved among them. He moved around to the side of the camp furthest from the caves, and stood for a while with his men staring at the other mountains nearby. Were more of them infested with Trolls? The thought made him shudder. One of the sentries called an alert, then another. Flaming torches were thrown out towards the movement, and brief glimpses of creatures almost twice the height of a man were seen before they disappeared into the darkness. The alarm had spread around the camp now, and warriors were arming themselves and moving into positions. The torches quickly burned out, and there was nothing seen in the darkness left in their wake.

Snorri was annoyed. His sentries should have known better. Their night vision was now disrupted for long enough to cause harm. The Trolls saw it too, and were almost at the lines before they were seen. Again Snorri was surprised by the speed of the Trolls, how could such a large creature move so fast and so silent? Arrows were loosed by his archers, and the warriors tensed in preparation for the contact. The Trolls were then among them, flinging men left and right. Snorri heard the wet sound of bodies breaking, and led a charge in with a handful of his men, all wearing maille and armed with maces. He headed for the nearest Troll and swung in a vicious arc at the back of the creature. It crumpled under the heavy blow, its spine crushed by the lethal weapon, and his men swung their maces in crushing its skull and splitting its ribs. He looked for the next target, and noticed they were moving away from him and deeper into the camp. Try as he might he could not keep up with the Trolls and they sped through his men tossing them aside like dolls. His men were attacking hard though, and some of the Trolls lay dying in bloody messes as he ran after the others. The Trolls did not stop, but kept moving through the camp and finally they burst through the other side and sped off towards the caverns in the mountain, baying in fury as they went. Snorri angrily looked at the mess the Trolls had made of his camp, the wrath of the volcano god beating strong in his breast. All of his careful preparations had not been enough to stop the raw speed and anger of the Trolls. But he had learnt from this action. His officers called men together, organising parties to gather the dead and care for the wounded whilst others got back to watching the perimeter. Snorri walked through the camp, assuring his men that the dead would be avenged, and that they had died well. He stopped where it had all started and looked down at the mangled remains of a Troll. This one had a different skin tone, more like sandstone where those he had slain before were like granite. Its eyes were further apart than the others, and its body more lithe. He shivered as he realised that Trolls come in more than one form.