the Trolls were keeping them alive, they were to be used as hostages to be traded over to the Humans for food or land.
The most gruesome of possibilities was that they were to be used as Human shields if faced by a Human force. Allan’s heart was beating with intense speed, all this was happening before him and the troops behind him were waiting for him to make a move, their hearts beating fast as well. Some in the king’s guard have seen battle, veterans of the Great Tri War but there are very few. The rest are raw recruits who rely on their training to allow them to fight hear. Allan crawled closer and closer to the encampment, his heart frequently skipping beats, his body twitching and his fists were shaking and tight. The Trolls had gathered around a roaring fire and they had placed their tents and the carts they had used to bring their Human captives here around their position as a defensive strategy that was intended to fight attacks that came in waves, they could defend the area if a large and clumsy Human force were to charge at them. Allan knew he had to be cautious and wanted to ensure that the Trolls would be dead before being able to respond, as best as he could. He crawled underneath one of the carts, the darkness of the night preventing the beasts from seeing him. The troops followed him and silently surrounded the camp, each behind obstacles that have now been turned in their favour. All in this Human army group knew that the battle would commence as soon as Allan gave the signal. The archers and infantry were now soundly in their positions, drawing back bowstrings and drawing swords, their muscles ready to spring into action, ready to be powered by fear and adrenaline. Allan watched two of the Human captives, a man and woman having a quiet conversation by whispering to one another. This was strange as none of the others were talking and all of a sudden one of the Trolls turns his head from the fire to look at the Humans, he had probably heard them talking. The Humans were blindfolded and it didn’t look like they were being taken care of properly. The Troll walked over, unbeknownst to the two, with a jar of beer and an axe. Then the Troll took a huge gulp of the beer and spat on the Humans before cruelly saying “I don’t mind bringing back two Humans short and a bloody axe”. This was followed by silence and there was a realisation that this was the leader of this small group. “Please my sister, she is thirsty and she needs water” said the man. “You want water? Fine have some” said the Troll as he grabbed a bucket of rain water and poured it over the Humans. “There’s your water, now be quiet” said the Troll.
Allan felt even further away from himself as a person, this happened so fast and he felt so much was happening. His teeth began to grind upon seeing that and his worried fearful look, turned into an angry one. Hardly ever seen in him throughout his twenty years of life. He took a deep breath and waited for the perfect moment. All the odds were stacked in his favour, the Trolls had stuffed themselves with food and beer and were obviously tired. Allan and his troops were only tired and vowed vengeance especially the Unodite soldiers as these were their people. For Allan as well as he heart has been fashioned to protect the innocent and ensure the safety of all Humans and it pains his sole to see such a sight. He crawled to edge of the bottom of the cart and then he emerged from it and shouted at the top of his lungs “fire! Fire now!” This was followed by barrage of arrows from archers that had surrounded the camp. Allan preceded to free the Human captives just in case the Trolls might result to killing them as a last resort or out of desperation. Panic quickly engulfed the small Troll camp and four had already been shot down by arrows, the remaining infantry rushed into the camp to kill the others. Allan ran and had the Humans in his sights, however noticing the leader of the group running to intercept him, he stopped dead in his tracks to look up at the massive Troll. A robust and large beast, this Troll was, a menacing club in his right arm, decorated with the bones of his vanquished enemies. The Troll raised his club in the air, in the same second Allan covered his face and chest with his round cavalry shield. The club was then being brought down upon him with force from his massive assailant, Allan braced himself and adjusted his shield into the direct path of the incoming club, it hit his metallic shield with such a loud impact the sound could be heard throughout and beyond the bustling battlefield. The powerful impact of the Troll’s club wasn’t enough to shatter Allan’s shield but sheer mass and power of the weapon made Allan drop to the ground in shock with an aching arm that had just withstood the force many men. The deafening sound alerted his advisor who immediately came into the picture, dropping his bow after killing a Troll with it. Picking up a spear before lunging forward and driving it home into the waist of the Troll.
The Troll seemed to resist the temptation of screaming or roaring but he dropped his club making a loud thud, he then broke the spear in two, with the tip still in his waist. His nostrils fluttered, his was such pain, but he was taking it. He swung the piece of the spear and hit it against the face of the advisor, who fell sideways, his cheek pieces absorbing the impact, thankfully. Allan then did the unthinkable, he dropped his weapons and ran to grab the club that the Troll dropped. It took both of his arms to lift, it was truly backbreaking, it was quite bulky and disproportionate, and after adjusting he swung it into face of the Troll, killing him instantly, the beast fell to the ground. The advisor then victoriously and happily exclaimed “well done, Sire. Well done! He’s deader than a door nail”. It happened so fast, Allan looked around, he saw all the Troll’s dead, however this was at a cost of two of his own men. “Their scouts are here; the main horde of Trolls and soldiers shouldn’t be far. The marshes are just over there” said the advisor. “Then we shall go through them and face the horde, head on in a pitched battle” said Allan. “Very good sire, we might to better against them in a head-on battle, they wouldn’t be able to surprise us with sudden movement on grassy flatland, which we shall see once we emerge from the marshes” said the advisor. “Ride back and tell the rest of the army to assemble here, we shall continue” said Allan. “Yes sire” said the advisor before riding off to call the rest of the army, who seems to have stopped calling Allan “my prince” or “Prince Allan” but rather as “sire”, a whole new level of respect and along with a smile on his face.
A great distance away, Elis and his army were in dire need of food and drink. He hasn’t had either Troll army in his sights yet, it was just miles of trackless desert, with rocks and a few cacti. On his horse at the front of the marching column, he looked behind him to see some of his troops stumbling and lagging behind. He needed his men to stay strong for the armies he had seen were immense and the slower they got, the more likely they would lose the Troll armies they were shadowing in the desert. All he knew was that they were out there and he could get to them if he rode on horseback but his men and horses were in no condition to do so and still put up a fight at the end of the day. Elis got off his horse, instinctively one of his companions, grabbed the horse’s collar to guide it forward. Elis briskly walked across the sand, along the column, the men were looking at him, eyes fixed, some with expressions of fear, some with anger and some however with no strength to show disagreement or the state of mind. Elis too was tired but knew that he could not show any signs of weakness to his men, for all he knew they might even mutiny because having to continue under him with poor conditions. Their overall morale was low, the sun was scorching and they were soon to run out of supplies and were having to ration what they had left. Elis was going crack down heavily on this to instil command in his ill-disciplined troops.
He walked quite far back in the column and observed a soldier fall, landing on his knees and elbows, his eyes were watering and one could tell he needed water. “On your feet! I said on your feet! I don’t think you want to be left behind” said Elis, angrily. The soldier seemed unresponsive and the slumped to his side. Elis took his water containing skin and raised it over the soldier on the sandy ground. “You want this water” asked Elis, a crooked smile on his face to which the soldier replied “yes”, the way he said it indicated that he had a very dry throat. “Well then, you can have it, but you have to take it fro
m my hand” said Elis. The soldier rolled to get onto his stomach, he then looked at the skin, breathing heavily the soldier then noticed his mates continue marching past him, soon he and Elis would be alone and he knew he would leave him there for dead. With whatever he had left in him, he got on all fours. “I order you to stand and take this skin, for you to drink and for us to continue” said Elis. Those who were marching past the scene were watching and to an extent they were impressed at Elis. Finally, the soldier stood, swaying side to side as if he was going fall again. He reached out his hand to take the skin, which Elis gladly gave to him. He watched he soldier gulping the water like mad. “You can keep it” said Elis, with a plain and empty expression. “Thank you” said the soldier as he watched Elis walk past him and his comrades. Elis returned to head of column, hoping what he had just done had a positive effect on his army for he had just sacrificed his water for a soldier. He wanted to prove he was above Human, nothing could