Troll Tusks

The warrior hugged up against the tree, sweat dripping down his face. Mandorallen prayed his night elf ability to blend in with the shadows would hide him from the enemy mage. He had hoped to gather the 30 tusks he needed from the trolls in the jungle before any enemy arrived. That was not to be. Mandorallen watched in anticipation as the mage killed 3 panthers and left. Heaving a sigh of relief, he came out of the shadows looking for another troll. So far he had gathered 29 tusks with 1 more to go. It has been a long day and fatigue was starting to set in. He was also running low on bandages, having taken many light wounds so far. He was grateful the trolls used primitive weapons at best.

He spotted a troll dancing next to a bonfire performing some kind of ritual. Seeing the troll distracted, Mandorallen charged. The 2-handed axe bit deep into troll flesh soliciting a yelp of pain and surprise. Not waiting for the troll to react, Mandorallen leaned down on the axe, tearing through muscle and tendon. The troll fell to its knees from the vicious attack as the 2-handed axe cleaved off its head. Mandorallen picked up the head and checked the mouth for tusks. This was the 16th troll to not have any tusks. He wished he could tell before attacking which trolls had tusks as he tossed the head into the fire. At least the kill was not a total waste after finding two silver pieces in the troll’s pocket.

Mandorallen looked around for another troll. None in sight. He walked around the thick trunk of the fallen tree as he had countless times today. He knew another troll would show up soon over here. He had but to wait. A twig snap halted him in his tracks. He crouched, trying to determine the direction of the sound. A sharp pain in his left shoulder jerked him upright. A troll was speeding towards him, club swinging overhead. Mandorallen raised his axe in a defensive stance, braced his feet and crouched to cushion the impact. Axe met club with a loud clang. The crushing blow sent vibrations up the axe handle into Mandorallen’s arms. The numbing sensation almost causing him to drop the axe. Mandorallen spun to the right, kicking with his left foot in a sweeping motion. The troll jumped back, the kick barely missing his legs. This bought Mandorallen enough time to recover from the impact of the club and ready his axe for battle. The troll charged without any thought on tactics. Mandorallen dodged easily to the right and followed up with a quick strike to the troll’s left hamstring as it stumbled by, hindering its mobility. Regaining its balance, the troll found it could hardly walk, blood flowing down its leg. Mandorallen knew he had to act fast before the troll’s regeneration closed the wound. A sudden chopping attack to the right caused the troll to wince as its weight shifted to the injured leg to dodge the incoming blow. Mandorallen followed the swing of his axe, doing a full jump spin before coming down to sever the upraised arm and crunching deep into the collar bone. Panic filling its eyes at the sight of its arm grasping the club on the ground, the troll turned and fled. It did not get 3 steps before it fell to the ground, dead from wounds that were too much to regenerate.

Mandorallen rolled the troll over and wrenched his axe free. Pain shot through his shoulder. He had forgotten the dart during the fight. He pulled the dart free, and examined the wound. Luckily this dart was not poisoned. His supply of cure poison potions was running low; having used 3 already this afternoon. Mandorallen opened the troll’s mouth to see a tusk. “Finally, I can get out of this god forsaken jungle”, he thought to himself as he pried the tusk out with his knife. He cleaned the blood off the blade using the meager cloth the troll used as clothing.

A harsh, guttural bellow sounded from behind. Turning around, Mandorallen saw an orc warrior rushing toward him. Already spotted, Mandorallen knew he wouldn’t be able to hide. He pulled out a shield and a 1-handed axe, dropping his 2-hander to the ground. He raised his shield just before the orc’s heavy sword crunched into his skull though the move stunned him. The orc didn’t even slow. With a roar the orc slammed hard with the hilt - catching Mandorallen in the chest and sending him flying backwards. He hit the ground on his back. Being a seasoned warrior, Mandorallen let the momentum carry him backwards and rolled to his feet. His axe was tied to his wrist with a chain and was back in his hand instantly, instead of lost from the tumble. The orc lunged at him, stabbing the sword forward. Mandorallen dodged to the right, slamming his shield into the orc’s outstretched arms. The sword went careening to the ground a few feet away. Mandorallen pressed his attack against his unarmed foe. He struck with his axe quickly to the orc’s exposed arms and legs, leaving deep gashes. The orc, badly wounded, was able to retrieve his sword in time to deflect a finishing shot to the head. Both weary warriors eyed each other tentatively, waiting for the other’s move. The orc turned and ran, knowing it had lost the battle. With quick reflexes, Mandorallen pulled out his bow and an arrow. He took aim and an arrow sprouted between the orc’s shoulder blades just before it got out of range. The orc stumbled before falling to lie lifelessly on the vine-strewn ground.

Exhausted, Mandorallen put his shield on his back and his 1-handed axe back in its sheath. With the hint of a smile, he collected his 2-handed axe from where he dropped it, patted the case with the 30 troll tusks, and whistled a merry tune as he headed out of the jungle.