The Troll Hunt

From the Elves...

To Esfaeleon the Cup Bearer, from his faithful servant and sentry, Hisanor Redleaf of the Southern Expanse.

O’ Thorl live forever.

I write this letter so soon after my last because of recent incursions in our lands demand that the tale be told. Rest assured that our Southern Expanse remains secure, but I recall with great lightness of heart our conversation at the Solstice when you shared the story of your neice and the human she married.

Earlier this week we came upon a small company of halfbreeds and humans who were crashing through the Greywood, far North and West of where we expect to find them. We followed them discreetly for four days before it became apparent that they might actually stumble upon the Winter Retreat if we let them. As they were shy of the mark and rather bumbling, I decided to allow them to live and to inquire of their purpose here.

The leader described herself as Lita the Half. She appears to be a Ranger of sorts. Her company included a human, an elf, and a curious dark-skinned creature whose like I have never seen. He spoke like a human and smelled of The Towns, but his features were not unlike that of the Seperatists.

This Lita told me that she was searching for Trolls and begged my leave to do so unmolested. I was shocked that such an under-equipped party would be searching for their own death in this fashion, but I remembered your stern warning that sometimes humans are stronger than they appear. I relented and pointed her in the direction of the Longarm Horde.

Though we have steered wide around them these last three seasons, the Longarm are still very active and their hunger is giving them wider roam. If these humans were able to rid us of their scourge without risking the recruits you sent, I thought we would be much the better off. We also followed them at distance to guage their mettle — if this Lita were successful we might find her an ally in some future instance.

The Troll Horde began their hunt shortly after the four left the path. First a Great Bruin was driven into their camp and by some Llor was sent back toward the trolls from which it had run. The Trolls tore it to pieces and then the hunt began in earnest.

There were ten of the Longarm altogether. They threw their rocks at the party of bumblers who would not be driven off. At this point I turned to my aide with an eyebrow raised. A hunting party of ten Longarm against these four — the four must be powerful indeed!

But then both groups closed for tooth and fang. One hundred heartbeats later, it was all over. Though grievously wounded, two of the bumblers kept their feet and managed to carry their fallen (dead by the looks of it) away. At this point, I could scarcely contain my laughter and the hunting party turned in our direction. We managed to drive them back without permanent damage to them (or us, by my Ancestral Tree!).

The last we saw of the party of four, they were returning with all due haste to the plains. They sleep now, but we will follow them South until they exit.

If the Longarm Horde are not gone by Spring, we shall have to burn them out of the caves. In the mean time they might prove a worthy deterrent to more incursions of outsiders.

Sign me, ever vigilant and given to mirth.

Quote of the Day: "Okay, that didn't really work out the way I wanted it to."