The Dark Lord of Crafting

Marie had to stay behind for this one. Gastard went into my hole in the wall so he could harry the troll with bowshots while I continued exploring the tower. I mined out just enough of my barrier to get at the door and then mined that as well. Soldiers coming back down for us no longer seemed like a likely issue, so the remaining barrier would be for the troll if it chased me down this far.

After squeezing through the doorway, I checked out the connected chambers. An officer’s bedchamber, a kitchen, and the stairway leading to the main level. I blocked off both rooms and took the stairs. Listening to the brush of my boots against the stone, I did my best impression of a burglar. There wasn’t enough metal in my armor for me to worry about clinking, but for all I knew, the troll would smell me coming.

I’d brought the Eternal Torch with me on the off chance that its enchantment would at least slow the troll down, but there was another door between me and what I assumed was the central room, so I took the time to place torches all along the stairwell. These, like the ones I’d left in the barracks, would burn out, but for the moment, it allowed me to pretend I was safe from random spawns.

Hoots from the other sides told me I was in the right place, and that Gastard was at least annoying the hulk enough to keep its attention.

A troll could force its way through a doorframe. It wouldn’t be very fun, but it could do it. Instead of completely sealing the entrance, I affixed my torch a few paces back from where I was and crafted another wall that would allow two feet of clearance once I harvested the door. Enough for me to get past without trouble, but less space than a troll would need.

As soon as the door was gone, the smell hit me. I’d just left a room with dead bodies in it, and this was different. There were zombies here, and they were treating downed soldiers like turkeys on Thanksgiving. I’d been dealing with the shamblers long enough not to gag, but it wasn’t pleasant.

I peeked in. Four shamblers, and one troll. The troll was having a tantrum around the window I’d cut into the wall, an arrow sticking out from its shoulder. It looked like the soldiers hadn’t gone down without a fight, though what their efforts amounted to were little more than scratches along its arms and back. Its skin was too thick for normal weapons, and there was barely any blood aside from what was on its hands and around its mouth, which both looked like they’d been dipped in a bucket of red paint.

“Yo! Zombies!”

The monsters turned their focus to me, and I drew my sword, backing away from the opening. The troll arrived well ahead of them. It slammed into the gap, and the stone barrier shook from the impact. One massive hand thrust through, reaching for me, and I slashed at its fingers.

The last time we’d fought a troll, it had only had a few soft spots. The throat, the eyes, its open mouth. My sword was now enchanted with Shadowbane, and while it didn’t cut easily, it cut. Blood poured down its knuckles around the exposed bone, and it drew back in surprise. The troll hooted, drawing back its lips. It had a face like a hairless doberman with no ears, and it wasn’t cute.

An arrow struck the side of its head a moment later, sticking loosely into its gray skin like a decorative piercing. It barked and barreled off, giving the zombies a chance to slip through. I jabbed the first one in the face, and it ate my sword. The second made it through the gap but the enchanted light caused it to pause, and I hit it with a sidestroke to the neck. It didn’t go down, but on the second stroke, my blade sliced clean through, sending its head rolling away from its body. Shadowbane wasn’t flashy, but the improvement in my weapon’s performance could was undeniable.

Soon there was a pile of zombies clogging up the doorway, but the chamber beyond was quiet apart from the hoots. I took my magic torch off the wall where I’d affixed it and went back to shouting for the troll. Pure white light spilled out into the grand hall, and when the troll charged over, it slid to a stop at the edge of the illumination and timidly patted at the glow. A memory popped into my head, the day we brought home a labrador puppy, how afraid he had been of the kitchen linoleum.

This standoff continued until Gastard had enough time to come around behind me.

“It fears the light,” he said.

“Yeah, not sure how far I trust that.” All it would take was one lunge from this thing to knock my head off.

Gastard tapped his shield with his sword. “I will stay close to your side,” he said, “and we will take him together. I have been wasting arrows.”

“I could try to get above him,” I said. “Drop some rocks like last time.”

Gastard shook his head. “A demon is coming. Perhaps it will be cautious and choose not to face you alone. But every hour we delay brings the enemy closer to this tower. The damage you did to Redroad will not hold them forever.”

Torch in one hand, sword in the other, I entered the grand hall. It was the first really good look I’d gotten at the chamber. Silver pools of starlight poured in through embrasures where bowmen could target the bridge and the dunes around the tower, and massive double doors stood at either end where Redroad met the way station. Black banners hung above the entrance and exit, emblazoned with a red sigil reminiscent of the elder sign on the back of my hand. It wasn’t identical, but it was easy to see how the lillits had initially mistaken my mark for Kevin’s.

The troll slid back as I came forward, pulling its lips up from its jagged canines in a snarl. The slabs of muscle that made up its shoulders bunched as it pressed its knuckles into the floor, but it didn’t jump forward.

Gastard darted past me, his blade flashing, and had to pull back at the last second to avoid a backhand from the troll. I followed his example with an inexpert charge, hoping to drive my sword straight into the monster’s chest.

A moment later, I was on my back, blinking and disoriented. It had hit me, and the Eternal torch was a few paces off to my right.

All I could hear was the ringing in my ears, and as I sat up, I saw Gastard dancing around the troll. All of his skill and bravery were called for just to keep it at bay. He had refused my offer to enchant his weapon, and its skin resisted his edge. Mostly, he was dodging. There was no blocking its massive fists. It was smaller than an elephant, but bigger than a bear. Had the last one been this size?

Incredibly, my sword was still in my hand. I got unsteadily to my feet. This whole thing was a terrible idea. Gastard’s confidence was infectious, but maybe I was just using that as an excuse for my own less-than-perfectly cautious nature.

Gastard was moving around the troll, keeping its attention, and causing it to expose its back to me. My legs felt like jelly, and my head was pounding. A little blood trickled down my nose, and I tasted copper. The troll beat its chest, gorilla style, grunting a threat display. A slash wouldn’t be good enough. It had a lot of body to cut through. I took my sword in both hands, trying to recreate the low stance that Gastard had taught me, and thrust.

I felt the resistance of its hide against the point of my sword, but it punched through, and a foot of steel penetrated under its ribcage, angling up. The troll jerked back and its elbow banged into my chest plate. The sword was stuck, and I lost my grip.

It turned, and I ran. The troll came after me, and I slipped back through the half-blocked doorway just ahead of it. It rammed the wall like an out-of-control train, and the blocks burst apart. In its rage, it had overcome the crafting force. The blocks thumped and clattered as they scattered, and I kept running, taking the stairs at top speed.

The troll came after me, but the curving stairwell was too tight for it to maneuver freely. It scraped along the walls, its hoots and howls echoing in the confined space, and I made it to the next chokepoint, turning sideways to practically throw myself back into the barracks,

Marie raised her head as I entered, her nostrils flaring. The horse had been napping this whole time. Lucky girl.

I moved to the middle of the barracks and pulled out my dagger, the only other weapon I had that was enchanted with Shadowbane. The troll arrived with a resounding thump, but the tight corridor had prevented it from building up the momentum necessary to break the blocks apart. It reached one hand through, clawing at the stones. I felt like throwing up. Probably a concussion, my health bar didn't have anything to say about that, but I gritted my teeth and got close enough to slash its already bloody fingers.

The skin separated, revealing pale bones, but the monster was beyond pain, and it tried to grab me. I couldn’t get close enough to attack its head, so I continued swiping at its hand, and one of its fingers flew off.

It pulled back from the gap, huffing like it couldn’t take a full breath. Our eyes met. Its gaze was narrow, full of hatred. Instead of bellowing its anger, it hooted, sounding tired, and slumped against the stairs.

Gastard’s footsteps were loud in the silence that followed. The light of my Eternal Torch fell across the troll, and it shuddered but didn’t rise. With a swift motion, he jabbed his sword into its eye, and the monster was still.

He looked up at me, his eyes dark, and showed his teeth.

“Not bad, but your form still needs work.”