MY GODDESS WAS A BEAUTIFUL, just, and kind deity. The seed was still plastered on Asdren’s brow when I returned to the glen with my bounty. There it remained until evening, when it fell off into his cup of leek and bacon soup. His gaze flew to me. I smiled into my cup of leek and onion broth as the others around the fire continued chattering on about who could spit the furthest. Seemed Smuta could and with great accuracy. The chill of the Witherhorns could be felt now we had reached the foothills. The climb up tomorrow would be an exertion for Newt. Perhaps it would be best if I went off alone to find a home or farm for him to rest in or outright sell him. We were now in dwarven lands. Surely someone who eked out a living at the base of the mighty mountain range would need a new pony…
A roar of enjoyment broke into my thoughts. Smuta spat a large hock skyward while the twins cheered her on. Just as her stream of spittle knocked a pine cone from a scraggly fir, Click returned, diving down to land beside me, his mind grabbing mine in a way that was not at all like him.
Ahead. Large beasts. Blood. Cattle dead. Farm fire.
I placed my cup on the ground.What kind of beasts?
Not know. Big. Like dogs but no dog.
Wolves?
He hopped around in agitation.No dog. Like dog. Blood. Ready for them. Ready for them!
With that, he flew off. Smart bird. When I looked at my traveling companions, all four sets of eyes were pinned on me.
“Click says there are large dog-like creatures coming our way. They’ve struck at a farmstead, killed some cattle, and perhaps harmed the people on the homestead. We should be ready for battle.”
The four mercenaries shot to their boots just as a long, guttural howl pierced the night.
“Fuck me,” Asdren mumbled. “That ain’t good news, mates. That’s the call of a troll pack.” The ponies grew nervous instantly, tugging on their leads, poor Newt unable to run well even if he could break free.
“What is a troll pack?!” I shouted just as the thunder of heavy paws broke into the still, cool air.
“Talk to them, Chirp!” Asdren roared.
Stop now, or we will fight you!
They never slowed.
“Chirp!!” Asdren shouted once more.
“I am trying! They are not open to conversation!” I yelled back even as I tried once more to make contact.
Stop now, or we will fight you!I shoved that thought at the dog-like things, but they either did not know how to speak with a druid or they were in such a blood fury they could not calm enough to communicate.Stop, or you die here!
They raced into camp, snapping jowls, eyes bright as hellfire. They were huge canines, easily the size of the draft horses that the brewers used to pull their heavy carts filled with kegs of ale. They appeared mangy. Large patches of hide was visible. They had mottled, mangy fur, what was left on them, and paws as large as a serving platter. The pack split, three heading to the ponies, one bounding through the camp recklessly.
“Protect the ponies!” I bellowed. One skidded into the fire ring, kicking flaming sticks about, yellow eyes scanning the camp with crazed eyes.
I ran for the lead ropes, rolling under a lunging lupine with claws as long as my hand, to arrive near my sleeping roll. There lay my quiver and bow as I slept near the small horses. With a grunt, I grabbed my bow, a few arrows, and lashed out at the ropes tethering the herd to the ground. The ropes sliced with ease. The ponies darted off into the dark, even Newt, though his limp was slowing him down. The soft cloth boot I had wrapped around his foot was coming undone. It fell off as he bucked upward to avoid the hungry grasp of a hungry troll’s pet.
I jumped in front of Newt, nocking an arrow as the lupine leapt at the pony, mouth agape, slathering foam falling from its maw. Two of my companions arrived just as my arrow tore through the neck of the beast. Blood spurted from the wound, coating the front of the creature.
“Stop or we will kill you!” I yelled out, nocking another arrow as Asdren and Smuta barreled into my view, weapons swinging, blood-curdling shouts renting the night air. Her mace struck one of the cursed things in the skull, dropping it in a heap of fur and twitching limbs. Asdren charged inward, two hands on the handle of his hammer, to shatter the leg of the third canine racing at Newt. The beast howled loudly, tumbling forward awkwardly, its snout flecked with bloody foam. I fired at its chest. A headshot would drop it instantly but moving about as everyone was, I lacked the time to take a precision shot. So I aimed for its heart. The shot was off slightly, ripping into and then out of the mad dog, slicing open a lung. The beast gasped for breath but continued crawling forward toward its prey. Newt was frantic now, his wild panic slicing into my head as I tried to focus on the fight.
Jogging back, I stood with Newt, the horse crazed with fright. I lifted my bow, eager to take a shot but finding it nearly impossible with the night upon us as well as the darting forms of beast and dwarf. The twins were fully engaged with their pack beast, one with a sword in hand, the other darting in to slice at the mad dog then leaping back out of range of snapping jaws.
The two that were in range of me were quickly dispatched by Smuta and Asdren, and the one with the twins lasted a bit longer but fell to a sword strike from whoever. I could not tell them apart well in the light of day, let alone in the shadow of evening. Newt stood at my back, his heaving side pressed into my ass, trembling like a leaf. Once the final one was down, I lowered my bow, turned, and placed my hands on the terrified pony.
They are dead. You are safe. You are safe. All is well. You are safe.
He seemed to grasp the message but could not reply as fear had his thoughts scattered. I ran my hands down his neck, whispering to him in soft tones to help lower his stress.
“These fuckers,” Asdren grumbled, rolling one of the huge dogs over to study it as I soothed Newt. “Nastiest mutts you ever seen. Mountain trolls raise them to help them find food. Kind of like you and that crow eating from the same loaf, only the trolls eat from the same kill.”
“Click is a raven, not a crow,” I flung at him as Smuta knelt beside one of the fallen beasts.
“Thing that worries me is that they don’t range too far from the troll that raised them,” Smuta commented and looked at me. “You going to have a conniption if we skin them out for their pelts? They ain’t high-grade fur, but they can be sold to the tanners for a copper or two.”
