When the war began there was no shortage of ready recruits
to fill the ranks for the Lidarion army. But by the end of the first year all
they had to show for their efforts was a nearly identical border layered in
bodies and twisted metal. The Lidarion army had been shattered, regrouped,
spread thin and nearly wiped out, rebuilt, and redeployed, each time with
smaller numbers in less units, with fewer supplies between them.
The war entered its third year and Trent didn’t even know
what to call the group of soldiers he was a part of. He and Brandon had been
assigned to a forward scouting party almost half a year back, but shortly after
they arrived the unit commander deserted. Surprisingly there were no arguments
over field promotions or changes in leadership, the group continued to operate on
their most recent orders, scouting the border and keeping the actual combat
units advised of possible dangers or decent places to attack. At first Trent
thought the men who stayed were just loyal citizens concerned with protecting
the border, but as they scurried from town to town like mice in search of
cheese they began to hear less about orc raiding parties and marching battle
companies and more about the war being over.
They had met up with the forward
most Lidarion company and while there were plenty of rumors surrounding the
possible end of the war, there was nothing official heard or seen. And so their
traded information for food and what meager supplies they could and headed
north. The company had heard nothing from the northern most villages at the
edge of the Cliffside Mountains, and it seemed as good a place as any to carry
out their duty.
Which is how they ended up with five terrified families
hiding in the village barn desperately hoping the orc raiding party that had
emerged from the protection of the Infinight Forest. It had taken most of their
time to round up the families and get them to the barn at the furthest edge of
town. The initial plan being to slowly sneak them out of the back door and get
them to safety. Unfortunately the barn had no back or side entrances of any
kind leaving them stuck as the raiding party entered the small village and
ransacked house after house. The killing of the cows, sheep, and pigs gave them
a buffer of time to place as many bales of hay in front of the door as they
could. But there weren’t enough to blockade the door and the raiding party made
quick work of the raw meat that used to be the towns livestock.
The scouts had long ago come up with silent hand signals for
almost anything they might need to communicate regarding troops, locations,
numbers and types of weaponry, which for over a year now had consisted of mostly
orcs, the edge of the Infinight Forrest, raiding parties, and basic melee
weapons. Which is why when the ground shook with a terrifying rumble Trent
signed to Drew the forward scout who had first seen the Orc’s leave the tree
line. He asked if he had seen a Troll with the raiding party, Drew shook his
head as the ground shook again, scaring some of the younger children into
crying out. They were quickly silenced by their parent’s terrified hands over
their mouths. The ground shaking steps were getting closer to the barn and the
disgustingly labored grunting confirmed that the raiding party did indeed have
a Troll with them. Trent looked around
the barn for Brandon but could not find him among the peasants. He wasn’t one
of the three men waiting behind the hay bale pile with swords drawn. Trent
started to scan the rear of the barn, until a pebble bounced off the top of his
head. He looked up to Brandon making his way over to an open window in the
partial loft of the barn. He had a bow and several arrows and hand found a semi
decent source of high ground for what was almost certainly going to be a very
bad fight. Brandon gave the sign for Troll and the sign for Club. Trent nodded
and motioned to the families to get back along the farthest wall of the barn
and hide as best they could among the supplies and loose hay. The ground
shaking was deeper now and getting louder. Trent knew there wasn’t much time
left and drew both his swords. He didn’t hear
Brandon’s first two shots because
the Troll had smashed his hand through the wall of the barn to grab their lookout
and squish his head like a grape. The Trolls other fist game through the
sliding door of the barn and caused two of the hay bales to explode. The Troll
screamed and let go of the bloody mess that was the unfortunately look out. Brandon
Dropped down next to Trent with no arrows left in his quiver.
“I tried to blind him boss, I only got the left one, which
he doesn’t seem too happy about.” Brandon explained as the Troll wildly slammed
his fists into the barn door and quickly disintegrating wall.
“Every little bit Helps” Trent replied as they barn door
fell apart under the aggressively pounding fists of the half blind Troll. The
troll then picked up one of the orcs and threw him through the hay bale blockade
and then decimated what was left coming through himself. Trent and Brandon
moved to engage the Troll when two of the scouts who had been helping the
peasants hide in the back of the barn dropped down on the Trolls back. Their
swords buried almost to their hilts in either side of its neck.
The troll wavered a few steps, moaned, fell to its knees, then onto its lifeless face. The sudden loss of their advantage gave the orcs pause which was all Trent, Brandon and the other two scouts needed as they launched themselves into the battle.
