The Stone Hills. Winter...
"I wonder if they speak common?" quietly says Helbe the elven thief, who after a slight pause adds "I should think so".
On his right shoulder, Narladene the ground pixie nods her tiny head, and says "They probably do" who after a moment's pause, adds in a slightly dry tone "Though most likely badly".
The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel nods his hooded head in agreement, as they continue to watch what's happening down below them.
The elven masterthief, and the ground pixie attached to him. Are on top of a hill in the Omban clanhold.
The elven magic user who is blurred and shielded, has also put a bubble of air around himself, as the wind howling through this part of the Stone Hills is bitterly cold today. The light snow that's falling at the moment is blowing sideways before it hits the ground.
The elven princeling and the tiny winged creature sitting on his right shoulder, are looking towards the base of the hill directly to the south of them.
There on what looks to be a well trodden trail, walk four large figures, who couldn't care less that it's howling with wind, and snowing today. Because they're trolls.
Helbenthril Raendril rubs his chin, as wild trolls are always an unpredictable lot. Especially in comparison to those trolls who live among other communities.
The four on the hillside below to the south, look to be a family, with two being smaller than what appears to be adults.
Though the two younger ones are the height of Dorc da Orc, but they, like the two larger ones, are no where near as bulky as the ork warleader.
Who if he was here, Helbe the elven thief knows he'd be tearing down the hillside to attack the four trolls. The large ork hates trolls almost as much as he hates dwarves. Almost, because he hates dwarves more than anything else in life. And that includes water, and the sun. Two things he has vowed to destroy in his lifetime.
"Crazy fucker" murmurs prince Helbenthril Raendril in the royal elven language as he thinks about the ork warleader who is somewhere down in Belinswae.
"What was that?" asks Narladene with an eyebrow arched as she looks at the young elven noble she is attached to.
"Oh nothing" says the elven master assassin who then adds "I was just thinking about Dorc and what he would do if he was here".
"He'd be on the otherside, killing just about everyone on our side" dryly says the naturally magical creature who then adds "Stinky isn't exactly enamoured with dwarves, it's why he isn't here".
"No he would be on our side" says the elven masterthief who continues with "Just that he'd be killing everyone on both sides". The ground pixie is silent for a few moments, then she admits "You're probably right".
"But i was thinking about what he would do if he was here, and saw them" says the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel who gestures down to the trolls who are walking west, at the base of the hill to the south of the one they're up.
"Stinky would attack them too" says Narladene who continues with "He hates trolls almost as much as he hates dwarven kind". The elven magic user nods his hooded head in agreement, then he looks away to the right, and looks at something in that direction, as he does he thinks about something, and the possibilities.
"True" quietly says the young elven noble who is not yet two hundred and fifteen years old, very young for an elven royal, the elven princeling then adds "Then again, even with that pea sized brain in that thick skull of his, he can be devious when he wants to be".
The elven master archer looks carefully at the state of the four trolls below. And sees that they're all wearing ragged looking furs. And though they look large and muscular like all of their kind, Helbenthril Raendril does notice something.
He slightly nods his hooded head after he reads the mind of one of the trolls, which he's always found relatively easy to do. They're almost the complete opposite of orks, whose minds are impossible to read. You do, you'll end up vomiting and passing out when you look into the deranged mind of an ork.
"They're hungry" quietly says the elven princeling, who then looks away to the right, to between a pair of hills, and what lies there.
Narladene sees where the elven masterthief is looking, then she looks down at the four trolls below, and she says "Are you thinking about having them".
"I am" says Helbe the elven thief with a grin on his youthful looking face as he interrupts the tiny winged creature "Imagine the chaos those four can create over there" adds the elven magic user as he waves away to the right, to the northwest.
"And they do speak common" says the elven masterthief, who then tells Narladene "Think I'll go and have a chat with them, and tell them of the abundance of food nearby".
"Oh hell, here we go" murmurs the tiny winged creature, who grabs onto the cloak of the elven magic user who she senses is about to cast, prince Helbenthril Raendril shifts down the hillside, dropping his blur spell as he does so.
"Greetings" says the elven master archer after he suddenly appears out of nowhere a dozen paces infront of the four trolls, who stop in surprise when they see him, and stare at the young elven noble from south of the equator.
"What you want mans?" eventually says the large troll in the front, who stands nearly twelve feet tall, and is holding a club, which happens to be a small tree.
The large troll, who speaks in a rumbling voice and a strong accent, scowls with his thick furrowed brow, then says "Wait you not mans" followed by "What are you?".
The troll may have a thick accent, and his grasp of the common language is poor, he's still a hell of lot easier to understand than Dorc da Orc, when Helbe the elven thief first met the large ork nearly a decade ago.
"Well you're correct, I'm not a man, I'm an elf" says the young elven noble in the white hooded cloak, the troll, who it seems is the father of the family, grunts then says "Oh we know of your type tree hugger, not seen one, but heard of your type" he makes a wide gesture with his free hand and adds "Not many trees in these mountains for you to hug" he follows that up, by making a casual swing of his club, and says "Unless you wanna hug this tree here, me can help you with that if you wants, by hitting you with it".
All four trolls laugh in their deep rumbling voices, while Helbe the elven thief stands there blinking in surprise. As he's never been insulted by a troll before, especially not a wild one, who has a poor grasp of the common language.
"The fuck" sourly mutters prince Helbenthril Raendril in the royal elven language, who then glances sideways at Narladene, who is sitting there on his right shoulder, with her hands over her mouth, smothering her giggles.
"You're no bloody help" mutters the elven masterthief in the royal elven language, who then looks at the trolls and says in the common language "Ah thanks, I'll pass on that".
The elven master assassin who briefly thought about exacting some painful revenge upon the large troll for that insult, instead says "I wonder if you'd be interested in something.
With a distrustful look upon it's face, the large troll who carries a tree as a club, says "What?" Helbe the elven thief tells him and the rest of the troll family "If you're looking for some food, i know where you can find plenty".
There's a few moments of silence as the wind buffets the base of the hill they're on, flicking up the snow on the ground, and swirling it in the air around them. Then the troll, that Helbe the elven thief guesses is the mother, it's hard to tell as female and male trolls look very similar, asks him "Where?".
"Over those hills there" says the elven magic user who points to the northwest, and adds "Not that far away" the young elven noble from the Southlands continues with "There's a whole lot of food there, some mans, i mean men have a camp there with their supplies".
"Lots a mans in the mountains this winter, why they not go home?" mutters the large troll with the club, in what is obviously a rhetorical question, he then grunts, when the female troll just behind him says "We shall go and take a look".
"Go ahead" says the elven princeling, who continues with "Take as much as you want, they won't mind at all". "Mans are good for something i guess" mutters the father troll, who then says "Very well tree hugger, we shall go and have a look, and take some of the foods they got".
"I knew you would for some reason" murmurs Helbenthril Raendril who has been casting compulsion spells on all four trolls as he's been talking to them. He gets quickly out of their way as they're eager to get underway again.
"Have fun" says the elven master archer as he watches the departing trolls, who hurry along the track for a bit, before walking off it, and heading to the hill to the northwest.
"Those hungry trolls are going to make a mess" quietly says Helbe the elven thief in the elven language to Narladene the ground pixie "You think?" dryly says the tiny winged creature, who then grins and says to the young elven noble from Laerel she's attached to "Let's go and watch". The elven magic user blurs himself, and shifts away, heading northwest, the direction the family of trolls are going.
A little while later, the elven princeling is sitting on a large rock on the side of a hillside, in a bubble of warm air. The blurred and shielded elven spellcaster along with the ground pixie sitting on his right shoulder, are looking down at a large camp of the army of the Justifier who has pushed into the Omban clanhold.
The two of them are looking towards the southern end of the camp, where supply wagons are lined up. And outside rows of tents, there's quite a number of fires going, as cooks prepare meals, as they do throughout the day.
"There they are" quietly says Narladene who spots them first, Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head a few moments later when he spots the four trolls he spoke to a little earlier.
The naturally magical creature softly laughs then says "They're not very good at sneaking are they?". "Not particularly" says the young elven noble with a slight grin upon his face as the four trolls are trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as they approach the Justifier's camp, and are failing to do so.
It's kind of difficult to sneak when you're nearly twelve foot tall and weigh nearly eleven hundred pounds, while holding a small tree you use as a weapon.
The father troll just gives up trying, and stomps his way towards the southern end of the camp, followed by the rest of his family.
"Well they've been spotted" dryly says Narladene the ground pixie as shouts and screams come from some of the camp followers who are at the southern end of the camp, when the four trolls are seen walking straight towards the supply wagons, and cook fires.
Justifier's guards come running, while camp followers flee in the direction they've come from, just as the largest of the four trolls makes his way between a pair of wagons, and walks towards a cook fire, where a bowl of diced meat has been spilt on the ground next to it.
He picks up the meat from the snowy ground, and stuffs it is his mouth, as a couple of guards, who have stopped at seeing him, get over their initial surprise, and run at him with swords drawn.
"Ouch" murmurs Narladene "That hurt" adds Helbenthril Raendril as both Justifier's guards who have run at the large troll, are whacked by the small tree that he uses as a club. They're smashed into the ground, instantly killed by the force of the blow that's hit them.
The elven masterthief sees that one of the younger trolls has gone to a picket line of horses, and is grabbing one as the mounts break their tie lines and run off. While the other young troll has gone into a large tent, that camp followers have just fled from.
The mother troll has got onto a wagon, which noticeably sinks into the ground, even though the ground is fairly hard beneath the fine layer of snow covering it. She's rifling through the supplies in the back of the wagon, total oblivious to the crossbow bolt in her right arm which she didn't even feel hit her.
"They're going to have a hell of a time dealing with those four" quietly says Helbe the elven thief as he looks down at the enemy camp below, the elven magic user then says to Narladene "Come on, let's go and add to the chaos down there". The ground pixie grins in anticipation as the young elven noble she's attached to shifts down into the Justifier's camp below . . . . . .
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