The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

The winter sun was just slipping beneath the bare-branched trees, casting a cold, pale light over the frost-laden ground. Brandon and his men had fought hard that morning, cutting down monsters that crept out of the hills one by one. Now, after many weeks of hunting, they found themselves deep in the heart of wild hills. The winds filled the hills broken up by laboured breaths and the low crunch of snow and some yells of men slipping on ice, then being laughed at for slipping on ice.

The men smiled and laughed, despite their furs torn and blood-stained, though each stood proud as they continued through the hills. Quietly, there was a faint tremor in the earth, a steady rhythm of thuds that grew louder and stronger. The men stilled, the sound vibrating up through their boots as they glanced at each other. "No need to be so scared John." One of the men joked. But Brandon raised a hand for silence, his gaze narrowing as he listened, trying to decipher what was coming their way.

The ground quivered, then stilled. A breathless moment passed, and then the ground trembled, as rocks fell from hills crashing into the ground below, with renewed ferocity, like thunder rolling through the sky it moved. Over the distant hill rose a roaring wave of creatures, their eyes gleaming like coals, their guttural growls filling the air. Before the men could even move themselves, a massive figure tore into view leading the charge.

It towered above the monsters around it, over twice the height of any man, its skin the colour of storm clouds, rough and leathery like dried bark. Its arms were knotted with muscle, thick as tree trunks, and in one hand, it held a club made from an uprooted pine, still slick with sap and snow topped with a simple rock. The troll moved with heavy speed, its heavy feet pounding the earth as it charged toward them.

"Shield wall! Tighten ranks!" Brandon's voice cut through the rising panic. The men scrambled, snapping into a defensive line, shields overlapping in a solid, bristling wall. Mercenaries, hunters, and Kings guard alike closed ranks.

The troll let out a deep, guttural roar as it bore down on them, its club swinging wide and smashing rocks with a crack that echoed in the ears of the men. The creature closed in, eyes gleaming with sadness, and brought its club down on the shield wall with bone-rattling force.

The men went flying, as the shields splintered under the impact. Brandon could only watch as behind the troll, the horde poured forward with a mix of ghouls, dire wolves, Isdråk, werewolves, and more. They quickly filled the gap before they butchered any man they could reach. Legs were taken out from underneath them before the man was ripped in half by Werewolves. A ghoul leaped through the air driving its blackened teeth through seemingly soft human flesh like dough squeezed.

"For the North!" Brandon shouted to the men before leading a second line of men through the gap created by the monsters.

The men roared back, chagrining into the fray. Snow flew, the chill air thick with growls and grunts, blood splattering as blades flashed and shields cracked. The troll swung again, with broken and crushed men flying through the air to splatter on the ground, their bodies no longer whole.

The rest of the horde slammed into the line with fury, monsters crashing against the shields and bristling spears. In the gap, the troll swung its club heaving it into the ranks of men before it sent its body into the line. Its stubby hands picked up men to crush and squeeze into a paste as the men cried out in agony, its flat feet stepped on another man crushing him into an instant mist of blood and bones. Thick, rough skin bounced spears and rocks and the men in the front line were attacked from both sides.

From behind the line, the slingers aimed and loosed rock after rock, the whirring sharp rocks piercing the charging beasts, felling some, while others stumbled and shrieked. The troll looked at the other beasts seeing them hurt before it roared at the slingers, then lunged forward, scattering bodies in its path.

Brandon didn't hesitate. "With me!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the clash of bronze and bestial screams. The men fought to fill the gap, whilst Brandon marched towards the troll. Brandon's guards followed without question, stepping into the thick of the battle with resolute faces, taking on creatures that came close to Brandon.

Chaos reigned as each man fought for his life. One soldier squared off against a snarling dire wolf, its eyes feral, teeth snapping inches from his throat as he struggled to hold it back with his shield. Another fell upon a ghoul, his sword cleaving through its twisted neck before he was set upon by two more, their claws tearing him to shreds as his amour failed to hold against their sharp training claws.

The troll pushed forward, undeterred, trampling through the bloody snow. It was a walking engine muscular death, its tree-trunk weapon crushing another man in its path. One of the mercenaries fell beneath its massive feet, a scream cut short as he was ground into the earth. Brandon watched it and pressed forward gritting his teeth as his men fought to keep the line.

Finally, Brandon pushed through the swarm and faced the troll head-on, mere paces from the hulking beast. Its tree trunk club was slick with blood, and it raised it high above its head, preparing for another crushing blow.