The Troll Hunter - 11. The Baron's Crime

CASSIEL

“We weren’t able to save your son.”

It was one of the hardest things Cassiel had ever had to say. Even now, hours after he delivered the news, the half elf replayed the fight in his head, trying to find some way, any way he could have saved Tig. The will-o’-wisp had been nearly immune to Linzi’s magic missiles, and even Amiri had a hard time hitting the floating skull. The fight hadn’t even taken thirty seconds though, and Cassiel couldn’t understand where they had gone wrong. Even Theofrid was at a loss; the gnome had tried his hardest to keep the boy safe, only for him to die under his protection anyway.

“My lord.”

Cassiel was pulled from his stupor by Kassil’s voice, the half orc standing beside him with a concerned frown.

“My lord, I have experience in delivering bad news. It is never easy. Would you like me to have the cooks prepare some tea for you, or something to eat? Perhaps you should take the afternoon off and recuperate.”

“By the people’s grace… How am I supposed to keep their grace when I can’t protect them? When I kill everyone around me?” the baron said quietly, staring up at the banner behind him.

“My lord, you have been doing everything you can to protect your people. I heard about the village, and as bad as it was, you have to understand you just killed a village of creatures that would gladly hunt and eat humans. You probably saved a lot of your subjects.”

“You didn’t see the pain in his eyes General. He really thought we could save his village, and we just killed them all. And then we couldn’t even accomplish what we went there to do. All that death was for nothing.”

“It was not for nothing, Theofrid said it put nearly ten thousand gold in the barony’s coffers…”

Kassil faltered at the vicious glare, the half orc having the sense to look contrite.

“Blood money,” Cassiel scowled. “But money that will go to the barony either way. Use it to help Osilon grow. Ezvenki is already working on a shrine to Erastil in Ismenia, and I don’t think multiple projects at once will benefit the townsfolk right now.”

Life goes on, even when he felt the crushing reality of his actions, and Cassiel had to remember others were depending on him.

“I’m not taking a break. I can’t. Keston mentioned that Delgado is being attacked by more and more trolls. Despite his… absolutely atrocious behaviour, I do need to go help him,” the baron sighed. “Jhod already mentioned he wanted to look into Jenna; he has suspicions about Tig’s disappearance. It’s a little too late, but maybe it will help some other person.”

Standing, Cassiel gave a nod to the half orc.

“If there are no other concerns, I need to collect my group. Delgado is not going to survive long if we wait for me to feel better.”

Kassil bowed low before leaving the throne room, Cassiel letting out another deep breath as he headed to his room to pack once more.

Late afternoon found the group outside the mage’s lab, troll blood covering nearly every single one of them. There had been a veritable army of trolls storming the wizard’s lab, fire-branded and otherwise, and the magus was happy he had brought Valerie along with them instead of Regongar. Without magical aid, there was no way the half orc would have fought off the hordes of trolls. Cassiel wasn’t surprised in the least about the trolls; not after what he had seen from Delgado. Research was one thing, but the experiments he had done… those were barbaric.

“Tristian, bless us please,” the baron said tiredly, his bow hanging loosely from his hand.

A wand slipped out of his belt, Cassiel offering his own buff, his body becoming lithe like a cat’s with a word. Tristian cast his own prayers about them, the cleric channeling Sarenrae’s light over them to give a bit of healing before Cassiel had Valerie lead them into the basement.

Three trolls stood around Delgado, a distortion effect blurring his body as three copies protected him. The mage moved fluidly with the copies, the trolls’ strikes completely missing him. Cassiel felt a relieved twinge in his heart at the sight of one of the trolls, scars marking him as Delgado’’s former test subject, but that relief turned sour as he realized he would have to kill the troll regardless.

The group charged forward, engaging the trio of trolls with acid and blade. Cassiel personally loosed a pair of acid soaked arrows into the freed troll’s head, taking responsibility for his actions, even as his heart twisted at his actions.

“Well here’s a surprise. It looks like you’re is capable of something other than stealing from your subjects,” Delgado grumbled as the last troll fell. “I’ll admit I am glad enough to see you.”

His entire body looked like one large bruise, and Cassiel tried to hide the satisfied feeling he got looking at the mage. It certainly looked like Delgado had got what was coming to him, and it made the magus feel just a little happier.

“We never stole from you,” the baron pointed out.

“Two fireball scrolls and a wand, mysteriously gone after your visit. A wand I can see you carrying on your waist right now,” Delgado pointed.

“These are yours?” Cassiel frowned. “I thought they were from one of the kobold shamans from the ford.”

“I think Regongar got a little handsy when he was here,” Linzi admitted.

Delgado limped over to a table, grabbing a rolled up map that he proceeded to shove in Cassiel’s hand.

“One of the beasts stole something from me. Recover it and I’ll speak no more of this,” he growled. “Here’s the location of their lair.”

Cassiel unrolled the scroll with a frown, looking at the surprisingly well drawn map of the Narlmarches.

“Clearly you have no respect for private property, but hopefully you can find it in yourself to return this item to me. It is a whip with a bone handle, and it holds some very fond memories for me. Now, I must ask you to leave as I have a series of rather unpleasant rituals to perform.”

The mage turned away from the group, silently ignoring them, and after a moment, Cassiel motioned upstairs. They filed out of the basement, the magus turning on Linzi.

“Why didn’t you tell me Regongar took those scrolls? Theofrid and I already copied them into our books; there’s no way to replace them!”

“He never said we have to replace them. Just that we have to get a morbidly crafted whip,” the halfling shrugged.

“And do you think we really have the time to waste on this? We’re supposed to be on our way to the watchtower right now, scouting for the troll’s lair!” Cassiel fumed.

“If I might point out, we aren’t exactly heading anywhere with the two of you arguing,” Valerie said sharply.

“Sir, we owe him an apology, and his whip,” Theofrid added. “But if you look, the lair is some distance away. It will take some time regardless, and as baron, you have a responsibility to your people over the needs of one mage. I say we go to the watchtower, deal with the threat, and then work on this missing whip.”

“The thieves were trolls, weren’t they? What if this place is the troll lair? The big one, I mean. We’d be wasting time not going straight there,” Linzi pointed out.

Cassiel let out a long sigh, looking at Tristian and Amiri.

“And what do you two have to say about our path?”

The barbarian shrugged, pulling out her sword and a large whetstone.

“It is for the chieftain to decide who we kill next,” she said, working on her blade.

Tristian cleared his throat, looking at the rest of the group.

“It is wise to look ahead. The light of Sarenrae will not shine as bright on us should we spend time wandering in the dark of the woods,” the cleric said. “I vote we head to the watchtower to scout. It is… only a day away, at most.”

“Valerie?” Cassiel asked, mentally preparing himself for a fight.

“I must confess, I am not looking forward to getting lost in these woods,” the fighter said. “Tristian’s words have merit; we should scout before we wander blindly.”

“So be it. We will make our way to the watchtower and see what we can find there.”

THEOFRID

They weren’t three hours away from the mage’s home when Linzi alerted them to a camp ahead. The group fell silent, the halfling leading them forward carefully toward a flickering firelight.

As they neared the camp, Theofrid’s eyes widened, the gnome rubbing one with a palm. The image before them… no one would ever believe it.

Three trolls sat around the fire, not too uncommon, even for them. What shocked Theofrid was the green scaled kobold standing before them, fire dancing in its eyes and hand.

The shaman seemed to be speaking a strange mixture of Taldane, Giant, and Draconic, but the gnome was able to pick up some of it, his stunned expression only growing.

“You! You were chosen, by the great Hargulka! You bring shame on tribe!” the kobold hissed angrily at the largest troll. “King Tartuk give no brand! Coward!”

His sleeves ran through the flames, catching onto the fire as he waved them like a torch at the trolls.

“You deserve none, you shame all trolls! Flames! Flames!”

“Flames…” the trolls repeated nervously.

The large troll took an uncertain step forward, toward the fire, and Amiri took that moment to charge at the troll, trying to slam it into the fire. The barbarian bounced off the troll’s back, Cassiel letting out an elven curse as the rest of the group rushed to support their companion.

“Theofrid, the kobold!” he snapped, the gnome nodding instantly as he conjured an icy bolt to strike at the shaman.

A troll lumbered toward the gnome, a fist crashing into the ground mere inches from Theofrid, and the gnome beat a hasty retreat as Valerie lunged to engage the beast. Amiri charged forward, her blade cutting into the other two trolls at once as she shrugged off a rain of blows that would have surely killed a lesser warrior.

Pouring more ice at the shaman as he kept an eye on Valerie, Theofrid threw up an icy bolt that darted between the two trolls fighting the barbarian. It slowed them briefly, a fire spell given an icy bite, and the gnome focused back on the shaman, grunting with satisfaction as the kobold fell with his head encased in ice.

The rest of the fight ended just as quickly, Cassiel throwing acid over each of the trolls as the group held them down. It was cruel, but necessary. If they didn’t kill the trolls, they would be killed themselves.

Theofrid and Linzi instantly began rummaging through the corpses, looting what they could for the betterment of the group and barony as Cassiel turned on Amiri. The gnome was glad to hear the barbarian reprimanded for charging in; that was the closest he’d come to death in a while, and he was honestly shaken by the experience. Casters weren’t supposed to go toe to toe with trolls, not when a single blow would guarantee their deaths.

Amiri had almost killed him, and Valerie wasn’t much better. For all her talk about working together and keeping their heads in combat, she had let him down. And it had almost cost the gnome his life.

“Theofrid.”

He blinked in surprise, looking up at the half elf. Cassiel dipped his head to the west.

“I want to check out that hamlet we saw. It’s beyond time for us to camp down. Why don’t you come with me, and we can forage some dinner.”

The gnome nodded, following the baron down a narrow path. They walked in silence for a few brief minutes before Cassiel finally spoke up.

“I can’t believe she did that. I keep telling her to hold back, to let us plan things out.”

“In her defense, if it had worked, it would have been a good plan,” Theofrid said. “Would you still be upset if she had managed to upend the troll?”

“Well no… but if she had told me what she was doing, we could have prepared for it. Maybe it would have worked then.”

Theofrid nodded.

“Yeah, we could have at least evened the height difference between them,” he agreed as they approached a trio of small buildings.

Torchlight held the growing night at bay, a young woman stepping out of a hut as the two neared. She frowned at them, stepping toward the light with a glint of steel in hand.

“Peace, we are only here to trade,” Cassiel said, holding up his hands.

“We need food for the evening. We have gold to pay for it,” Theofrid added.

“We don’t have food to spare,” the woman scoffed. “The lands are hard enough as it is without having to feed every brigand who wanders through.”

“Do you know who-”

A hand fell on Theofrid’s shoulder, Cassiel shaking his head at the gnome as he startled. Letting out a breath, Theofrid turned away, listening to the baron of the land apologise to the woman for disturbing her.

They walked away, Cassiel’s hand still on the gnome’s shoulder. It felt nice, a comforting weight behind it that soothed his anger at how Cassiel had been treated. A baron should be respected, and the fact that Cassiel just brushed her off was… actually rather admirable. The half elf clearly didn’t intend to use his position to intimidate those under him.

Well, except for Delgado, but that mage had it coming. He was evil.

“Do we have food for the night?” Cassiel asked, interrupting the gnome’s musings.

“If we eat sparingly,” Theofrid replied quietly.

“Good. Then think no more on this. We will eat tonight, and tomorrow, I’ll help Amiri track down some game.”

He spoke with surprising confidence, Theofrid glancing up at the half elf. Cassiel smiled down at him gently, squeezing his shoulder.

“We’re going to be out here until we find the troll lair. I will not let them terrorize these lands anymore. Food was going to be an issue anyway; it just came about a little sooner than we expected. Hopefully it doesn’t take more than a day or two to find them and put a stop to their threat.”

Theofrid nodded as they approached the camp, the smell of burning sausage filling the air as a fire burned bright.

“We found some supplies on the trolls,” Amiri grunted as Valerie turned a large set of links over a makeshift spit.

“It’s probably not going to be the best meat, but I am reasonably certain it is not sapient meat,” Tristian added quickly, the cleric working on setting out bedrolls.

“It’s overcooked,” Theofrid frowned, moving to pull the meat off the fire.

“Well excuse me, but the art of cooking was not something the paladins of Shelyn are taught,” Valerie scowled.

“Well, that’s because it depends on how people view art. Food can be art in my opinion, it’s just delicious art,” Linzi pointed out.

“It’s not lasting, and you can’t sell it to museums. That’s all the paladins care about. If it’s none of those things, it’s unnecessary.”

“Then they never viewed dance as an art form? That doesn’t seem right,” Theofrid frowned. “There are many Garundi who enjoy dance and worship Shelyn, even if she’s not the biggest god in the south.”

“You never mentioned you’ve been to Garund,” Cassiel said, looking at the gnome.

“I’ve been all over the Inner Sea,” Theofrid shrugged. “I tried to study in Nex for a time, but when they tried to make me some sort of government lackey after five years, I decided it wasn’t for me. Geb wasn’t much better; it’s all necromancy or nothing down there. Osirion though, that land is great. So many ancient secrets to explore, if you’re into that sort of thing. Personally, Qadira is my favourite land though, for magical studies. Conjuration is a very versatile magic.”

“You’ve never been to Kyonin,” Cassiel pointed out as the gnome handed everyone a bit of the meat.

“Not true, I was in Omesta for my first century. My parents seemed to think being around the elves for a while would make a good childhood…”

Cassiel chuckled at the thought, shaking his head.

“I can confidently say that is a lie. They aren’t bad, just… not very open to other races that don’t meet their standards.”

“Oh trust me, it was worse four hundred years ago. Queen Telandia is actually very progressive for an elf, as much as the Winter Court allows her to be.”

“It’s all politics, isn’t it?” Cassiel sighed quietly, Theofrid echoing his mood.

“It is, but I’m sure elven politics have nothing on the squabbling between lordlings of the River Kingdoms,” Valerie scoffed.

“Elves can afford to play the long game. Humans only like to think they can,” Theofrid shrugged. “Tell Princess Natalie that her plans will be achieved a hundred years after her death and see how she reacts. Politics are politics, wherever you’re from. They are brutal regardless, but if you know what you’re doing, you might be able to stay in good graces for a while. Not that i would know, politics was not one of my favoured studies,”

“Meanwhile I wish I could go back to take a class in surviving politics at the Royal Academy of Iadara,” Cassiel muttered.

“You are doing rather well for someone who is not born to the position,” Tristian offered. “I do not know much about rule, but I do know the people are starting to put their faith in you. Once the trolls are dealt with, I fully believe you will have their full support.”

“I suppose. I think I’m going to head to bed. It’s been a long day,” Cassiel sighed. “Everyone get some good sleep, we have a long road ahead of us.”