The Assault on Tor'watha (2)

A squad of three Troll Headhunters moved silently through the jungle. They didn't speak; the only sound was the faint rustle of brush against their bodies. Their dark skin blended almost seamlessly into the gloom.

Once the Troll patrol had disappeared from view, the dim light beneath the great tree they had just passed suddenly twisted without a sound, and an elf's figure gradually came into focus.

Lanlos glanced after the patrol, then turned his gaze toward the mountains.

Something about those Troll Headhunters felt wrong. According to his memories and the books he'd read, Trolls had some ability to see in dim light, but without training, it quickly deteriorated.

As a result, Trolls needed torches or other light sources to patrol at night, just like anyone else. The squad that had just passed clearly had dim-light vision comparable to torchlight. Yet as far as he knew, training a squad like that required more than just time.

They wouldn't use such elite, stealthy hunters for patrols unless there was a good reason. Lanlos was almost certain that the camp Lor'themar had mentioned really existed!

Could it be...

A distant, hazy memory surfaced in Lanlos's mind: a Troll ruin in the southeastern corner of Eversong Woods, a dungeon Blizzard had once abandoned.

Tor'watha.

No, that couldn't be right. The timeline was probably around twenty years before the opening of the Dark Portal. The Forest Trolls shouldn't be this brazen.

The Trolls had certainly caused Quel'Thalas plenty of trouble, but after the decisive battle between the High Elves and the human empire two thousand years ago, the Forest Trolls had been utterly scattered. They could no longer be considered a real threat to the elves.

Small tribes like the Darkpine and Vilebranch were nearly extinct. The only Trolls still posing a threat were the Amani Trolls, holed up in Zul'Aman.

Other than the abandoned dungeon, Lanlos had no memories of Tor'watha at all. He couldn't help regretting that he hadn't fully devoured Tregra's soul when he killed him. Perhaps then he would have gotten the answers he wanted.

But that was just wishful thinking. A competent necromancer only absorbed a soul's energy and essence when siphoning it. Unless the soul had already given up resisting, merging with its consciousness and memories was nearly impossible.

The consequences could include a mental breakdown—or even being taken over by the enemy's soul. Even now, Lanlos still shuddered at the memory of that "inner demon."

"Can't hold it... toilet..." A low, hoarse voice reached his ears. Lanlos snapped back to his senses and immediately ducked into the shadows. After "eating" fragments of the Amani Trolls' souls, he'd gained some understanding of instincts rooted in the soul's subconscious. This was Troll Language.

Sure enough, a dark figure sprang from the bushes ahead. After glancing around, it headed for a clearing not far from Lanlos.

A brief silence followed. The soft trickle of liquid made the elf mage's forehead crease with dismay, and then came a nauseating stench.

Damn it...

Lanlos tightened his grip on the Windrunner Blade at his waist. After a moment's hesitation, he held his breath and continued to endure it.

But the other Troll's senses seemed sharper than he'd expected.

"Strange... smell..." The Troll muttered under his breath, then took the spear from his back and started cautiously toward Lanlos.

Had he been discovered? Damn it! Without the ability to cast silently, Lanlos couldn't use Invisibility without giving himself away. It looked like...

He gripped the curved blade at his waist again, his whole body tensing.

A faint sound of flesh tearing rang out. To Lanlos's astonishment, the towering figure only an arm's length away swayed, then fell straight to the ground.

"Halduron?" Lanlos stared in shock at the ranger who had appeared before him.

Halduron gestured for silence, a hint of guilt on his face. "Sorry, I didn't notice this Troll when I came over."

The meeting point after Invisibility wore off had originally been a blind spot in the Trolls' patrol route. There was no way anyone could have predicted that a Troll would come here to relieve himself. Halduron's being spotted was understandable. Lanlos shook his head to show it was fine, then glanced at the empty space behind him in confusion. "Where's Lor'themar? Didn't he come with you?"

"I'm not sure. I think he's already made it past the blockade. That kid's always been pretty reckless." Halduron hid his embarrassment with a smile. He was just about to ask Lanlos to cast the spell again when the noisy voices of Trolls sounded nearby.

"They'll find their comrade's body soon. We need to..." Lanlos made a throat-slitting gesture. His meaning couldn't have been clearer.

Halduron was mild-mannered, but he was decisive when it came to making battlefield judgments.

They exchanged a glance and slipped back into the shadows in perfect unison. Two more towering figures approached in the distance.

"People... gone..." One Troll stopped near the corpse, clearly sensing something was amiss and ready to fight or sound the alarm at any moment. The other took down his spear and slowly approached the source of the bloodstink.

Just then, a low voice rang out around them, reciting an obscure, tongue-twisting incantation. The alert Troll immediately turned, whirling his spear to attack the enemy in the dark, but he was too late.

A dim white light shot out of the shadows and plunged into the Troll's chest at a speed he couldn't react to.

The next moment, exhaustion washed over him like a tide. No matter how hard he fought it, his leaden eyelids slowly closed.

Thud!

Hearing his companion collapse, the other Troll immediately tried to send a signal.

Slash!

The curved blade swept past like a willow leaf in the wind, lightly cutting the enemy's throat. Blood drenched him as the strength left his body, and he crashed heavily into a pool of blood.

After wiping the blade clean on the animal hide covering the Troll, Halduron went over to Lanlos and glanced at the Troll who had fallen asleep under the effects of the Sleep Spell. "What should we do with this one?"

To his surprise, Lanlos fell silent. As Halduron watched in confusion, he finally spoke. "Halduron, do you trust me?"

"What?"

"I feel like something's wrong here, as if something we don't know about is watching us from the shadows..."

"That's impossible. You're overthinking it." Halduron was an optimist, and he never let his instincts trouble him like Lanlos did. He believed only what he saw with his own eyes.

Lanlos gave a self-deprecating smile, as though he'd finally let go of a burden. "Maybe you're right. I might really be overthinking it."

"All right, get ready. I'll make you invisible again. Find Lor'themar, and don't let the Trolls catch him."

"Ha, don't worry. That kid's slippery as an eel. These Trolls won't catch him!"

No wonder he was A'Qiang's longtime bottom... er, aide. Halduron had absolute faith in Lor'themar's abilities. If little stars had appeared in his eyes, he would've looked just like a fan gazing at his idol.

Watching the blurred silhouette vanish once more, Lanlos slowly turned to look at the Troll sleeping soundly at his feet.

The resilience and strength of Lanlos's soul gave him powerful senses, and he'd used them to do many things beyond the ordinary. It was one of his strengths. Combined with his incredible knowledge of this land, he had every reason to believe these Trolls had come with bad intentions.

Lanlos crouched and raised his right hand. A bone-chilling wind swept past, and wisps of black-purple energy rose from his palm, like flames that gave no light to the world.

He took a deep breath. A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes as he brought his right hand, wrapped in black-purple flames, down hard on the Troll's forehead.

Cold shadow energy coursed through the Troll's skin. Sensing danger, the sleeping Troll shuddered again and again, as if he were about to wake.

But it was too late!

The surging shadow energy turned into countless blades, tearing through his flesh and burrowing deep into his brain. His soul, his flesh—every part of him seemed to be chewed apart by ants. The pain pierced to the bone. The Troll wanted to howl, to roar, but Lanlos had already plunged his other hand's curved blade into him.

Blood spattered across the ground. The Troll's wide eyes stared fixedly at Lanlos, as though he might spring up at any moment. Low, muffled groans escaped his torn throat, like the snarls of a vengeful spirit, sending chills down the spine.

Database updated...

Language: Troll Language

Talent Specialties:

Soul Harvest: As a standard action, touch a target and use shadow energy to forcibly harvest its soul. Failure on a Will save results in immediate death. Helpless living creatures and fresh souls require no save and can be harvested directly. The caster must maintain concentration; if interrupted or if the target succeeds on its save, the caster takes damage equal to 30–80% of current health and is silenced. Harvesting soul fragments restores some mana and spirit. Harvesting a complete soul allows the caster to read some of the target's memories and abilities, but carries a high risk of side effects.

Basic Regeneration: Increases resistance to bleeding damage and slightly improves health recovery (upgradeable: 10/100).

Status:

Berserking: Increases attack, casting, and movement speed by 20%; spell success rate -30%; lasts 2 hours and 58 minutes, followed by weakness.