Faced with the relentless harrying attacks of these well-coordinated Trolls, Aaron could do little for the moment except steer his gryphon out of the way. Although their throwing axes were astonishingly inaccurate against an airborne target and Aaron felt they posed little threat to him, the sheer force of their barrage was intimidating enough that he dared not get too close, lest the Trolls knock him out of the sky.
"Maybe... I underestimated them a little." Aaron twisted and dodged through the air. Although he was not worried about any immediate danger, he still felt he had been rather presumptuous to rush forward so rashly... These Trolls clearly had extensive experience fighting airborne enemies, and his plan to use his aerial advantage against them had essentially fallen through.
At this point, Aaron could only console himself with the fact that he had diverted some of the enemies' attention from the elves. After all, maintaining an uninterrupted barrage of axes required several Trolls working together, which considerably eased the pressure on the elves, every one of whom was wounded.
And the attacks against Aaron did eventually slow. Although the Trolls still had plenty of stamina and remained well coordinated, they only had so many axes. This method could keep Aaron from approaching for a while, but it could not last.
Seeing their attacks slow, Aaron drew the rapier he had only just named the Thorn of the Holy Light, ready to swoop down and attack as soon as the Trolls' barrage stopped.
"We're running out of time. Leave that bird in the sky to me. Focus on these fellows!" The Troll at their head slammed his staff hard against the ground and shouted. Hearing this, the Trolls stepped up their attacks. Even those who had been watching Aaron closely switched targets, leaving only their leader staring fiercely at him.
"Great Jan'alai, please grant me your power." The Troll roared, and the faint apparition of a flying beast appeared behind him. Its body was green all over, while the membranous wings extending from its sides, almost like butterfly wings, were a fiery gold and red.
Both the elves and Aaron recognized the beast's kind-a Dragonhawk. Together with the name the Troll had called out, the apparition's identity was obvious: Jan'alai, the Dragonhawk god, one of Zul'Aman's four Loa.
"The Dragonhawk god? That's cheating. How are we supposed to fight if you're already calling in a Loa?" Aaron sighed involuntarily, his eyes fixed on the Dragonhawk. As the giant Dragonhawk turned from an apparition into a solid form, his heart began to pound. After all, this was his first time facing a Loa, and no one knew just how strong this fellow was.
Judging by the in-game cinematics, which best demonstrated the NPCs' strength, Rezan, guardian deity of the Zandalar royal family, was powerful enough to propel a sailing ship at tremendous speed with nothing more than an apparition. Although Jan'alai was only one of the Loa worshipped by the Amani Trolls, he was ultimately a being on the same level as Rezan, and presumably would be anything but easy to handle.
"Whoosh-" Just as Aaron braced himself, ready to flee the battlefield at any sign of trouble, the Dragonhawk apparition seemed to finish preparing for battle as well. Rather than swooping toward Aaron to fight at close quarters, however, he drew a deep breath and then spat a stream of fire at him.
"Hot, hot!" Although Aaron summoned a Divine Shield in time to block the flames and spare himself their direct damage, the searing fire still left him with an unbearable burning sensation, as though he were inside a furnace.
But although Aaron was safe for the moment, what shocked him was... the gryphon beneath him was completely engulfed in flames in the blink of an eye, and after one mournful cry, it vanished.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Caught completely off guard by his mount's sudden disappearance, Aaron plummeted toward the ground. Although he had not been flying very high and was not worried about falling to his death, he was also too close to the ground to react in time. It seemed he would simply have to take the damage from this fall.
"Down below, get out of the way!" Aaron only had time to shout a warning and put another Divine Shield on himself before he came crashing straight down.
Although both sides fighting on the ground had already noticed Aaron falling and dodged aside in time, the floating cargo crates the elves used to transport supplies could not react so nimbly. The elves controlling them were busy fighting the Trolls and had no time to move them. Aaron crashed down and smashed half a cargo crate to pieces.
"Cough, cough. What is this stuff?" Aaron waved away the white powder filling his vision, his nose and mouth full of the fresh fragrance of some plant.
Looking down, Aaron saw that his previously gleaming golden armor was now covered in white. He hurriedly stood up and patted the dust off himself, then tightened his grip on his weapon and began surveying the battle around him.
Aaron's sudden fall had temporarily separated the elves and Trolls who had been locked in combat, giving both sides a chance to catch their breath. But while the elves could take a breather, Aaron was now in a very dangerous position.
"Kill him," the Troll who had summoned the Dragonhawk god's apparition ordered in a somewhat weak voice. Aaron now stood in front of all the elves, facing more than a dozen hideous green Troll faces alone. Aside from inwardly cursing that Troll, all Aaron could do was face them with trepidation, hoping the elves behind him would hurry forward rather than leave him to be surrounded.
Aaron raised his shield in front of him, tucked as much of his body behind it as possible, and summoned a layer of Holy Light into a barrier around himself. He planted his feet, ready to meet the Trolls' first attack.
"Whoosh-" Just as Aaron nervously prepared to face the Trolls, he suddenly heard the familiar sound of an arrow cutting through the air, followed by a string of whistles and the Trolls' howls.
Aaron poked his head out and saw that several Trolls at the front had already collapsed, each struck by several arrows. Looking back, he saw that the rangers from Quel'Lithien Lodge had finally arrived and were using their superb archery to suppress the Trolls who had held the advantage only moments before.
"Retreat! Retreat!" The leading Troll casually hurled a head-sized fireball at the elves, briefly disrupting the rhythm of the rangers' shooting, then gave the order to his surviving followers.
"After them! Don't chase them too far!" the ranger captain ordered his subordinates. Looking at his fellow elves on the ground, their wounds varying in severity, he stopped a few rangers and called them over to bandage the wounded.
Seeing how quickly both the Trolls and rangers ran, Aaron could not be bothered to join in. Instead, he turned to treating the wounded elves with his Holy Light.
After being bandaged and healed by the Holy Light, the more lightly wounded elves could already move freely. Some stood up and guided the floating cargo crates toward the outpost, while the rest raised their weapons and ruthlessly finished off the fallen Trolls. These Trolls' regenerative abilities were too strong. If they were not killed and found a chance to escape, they would be trouble again.
As the Trolls howled, Aaron sighed but said nothing. Although he had not been in Azeroth long, his former squeamishness at the sight of blood had all but disappeared. He now found it difficult to feel sympathy for the Trolls who had nearly killed him only moments before, and simply pretended he had heard nothing.
After all, the hatred between Trolls and elves stretched back more than ten thousand years, and both sides wished death upon the other's entire families. On top of that, only a few years earlier, these Trolls had allied with the Orcs and led them in laying siege to Silvermoon City. New grudges had piled upon old hatreds, and reconciliation had long since become nearly impossible.
Still, Aaron found the sight somewhat upsetting, so he turned away and continued helping heal the elves' wounds.