Montsilt United

It had rained again, just enough to wet the cobblestone. The musty smell of worn stone, horse manure, and dirt mixed to welcome travelers to Monsilt. Cold stone buildings with slate roofs left the beauty of civilization to other settlements. Still, what the community lacked in its facade it made up in with heart and determination.

The forest village grew up around a well and an old inn. Someone with some sense would have put the town near a stream or crossroads. But, it seems the village had a will of its own and would not give up on this location. It was halfway to Ander's End and Pale Gear so had some utility. Wagons usually lined the street, stopping here to rest as they brought goods deeper into the forest and then back to Etonia. The rumble of wagons on the road had been missing coming up the hill into the village. The empty street reflected their absence.

Stepping into the emptiness felt ominous. To the left, the front door of the Holmes Inn stood wide open. It was late in the day, but someone should have been hungering for dinner. They had the best stew in the woods. It was the missus' insistence on keeping a large vegetable garden and her measured hand with spices. They had access to anything they needed with the wagons coming through.

It didn't seem right to enter when no one was around to return your greeting. Wisps of steam leaked from bowls on the bar. Could not have been long if they left, Mr Holmes had a practiced grip on a club. At any sign of trouble he made its presence known and that he knew how to crack a skull.

Anxiety crept up along with the leather cuirass required for my work shift. It needed a visit to the snips shop down the street. The man there, Yelsin, had amazing talent for fitting anything worn. Plus, he would know what was happening in the town. The hands of that tailor were only half as good as his ears. Makes one wonder what he did before moving to the frontier. Of course, I left others with the same mystery about my past.

Metal clashed against metal and interrupted the climb up Yelsin's steps. The blacksmith shop across the street could be testing that apprentice's new work. The large sliding door of the shop revealed an empty anvil. The heat of the forge gave the only reply to my inquiry.

Yelsin palled around with the Haral the Blacksmith and Rolph the Butcher maybe they met up at the market before it closed for the day. Through the workshop a back door opened to the market. Easy access for customers. Haral had an ideal location in town.

The door to the market was jammed. "Hey, move out of the way!"

Whoever was on the other side wouldn't move. The mayor had just told us not to cause any ruckus. Tempers were flaring after he cut payments to the merchants from Etonia but blocking the door like this was unnecessary. "Move!"

The head came into view as it thumped on the cobblestone with a wicked crack. Blood covered the market stall behind the head. The carnage now visible through the door twisted my gut. "Geez, I'm sorry. Bernie, what were you doing?"

The apothecary didn't get up. He didn't have an arm. The old man had given me an antique flask. Handed it to me with that now missing arm. I helped him recover a crate of supplies that "got on the wrong wagon." How was he to know I wasn't an actual guard but here to protect the Mayor's smuggling operation. He had pleaded for the supplies. I should have just said no.

A child screamed, past the town square, in the opposite direction of the market. "What is going on?" Bernie already expired. No sense sticking around here. The tall, broad trunks of the forest could hide an escape. The child screamed again.

Should have said no but instead I raced down the street toward the scream. I knew that scream, the baker's kids. From a window above the bakery and arrow shot down toward the street.

There were Rolph, Yelsin, and others hacking away at a Troll with an arrow in its back. Seven feet tall, gangly arms with claws, and a mouth full of sharp teeth teeth tearing into Gertrude, Bernie's wife. They didn't have any fire. Fools!

Behind the butcher's shop there was a smoke house, and a fire would be going or at least have some embers. Squeezing between the stone buildings to get behind them was the easy part. Grabbing some logs from a nearby wood pile added a few steps but saved searching for wood scraps. A few rags from the smoke house wrapped around the logs and fire leapt to the makeshift torches. The second troll, well, that was a problem.

The goats in the barnyard bleated at the troll's approach. It's joy reeked as it scampered toward the penned in prey. With their distraction I circled around the smoke house. In the barn a pitchfork emerged. It trembled in the stablehand's grip.

Run into the forest kid.

He didn't.

The pitchfork went clean through the troll's torso. It spun around and knocked the kid to the ground. These torches weren't doing any good behind the shed so I followed up with fire to the head. The flesh pealed and burned. It popped and exploded at the joints.

"Get back kid, but keep it burning." I handed one of the torches to the stable hand.

There was a wider path between the Butcher shop and Town Hall. The other guards looked on from the windows of the town hall as I ran by. What a joke. My stomach tightened and twisted at them more than at the burning troll.

One of the trolls in the street was down. It got my torch to it's face. The folk here may have been able to fend off one troll but another was pushing them down the street. A merchant's leg laid by the burning troll. Across the street I spotted his head, Ahli. Senseless.

The townhall's door remained closed. "Cowards! I know where these trolls are from!"

The troll's wicked gaze turned toward me. "Come on you fiend!" Another arrow shot from the bakery. Amos was doing what he could to help while keeping his kids safe. Rolph and Yelsin were exhausted. "Come on!"

The troll's claw caught my shoulder but it's skin can't handle any amount of fire. The torch slammed into it's midsection, turning it into a bonfire.

The iron bar that locked the town hall doors crashed on the ground. "Now you come out!" Three arrows greeted my sarcasm.

Hands grabbed me from behind and pulled. The street spun over my head. The spinning stopped as I laid on the ground. That musty smell helped push away the burning pain in my chest. "The trolls," I gasped. The words were hard to get out.

"Derek, take it easy." Yelsin was pushing on me.

"The mayor...had the trolls..." I got it out, "in cages. He did this."

Angry voices erupted around me, but I couldn't see anymore and couldn't make out the words. I didn't care. I felt free. The ground soaked my burdens away.

There was one more thing. "Save the woman...on the second floor."