F&L: Chapter 51

As the pair of Marsh Trolls charged me, I began to move, transfiguring some of the solid ground between me and the Trolls into mud as I backed away. One of the Marsh Trolls stumbled into the freshly-transfigured sucking mud. The other avoided it and swung at me with his club. The fire-hardened wood came in at my head with enough force that only the fact that my physical capabilities were currently boosted by potions allowed me to duck under the sideways swipe. I conjured an arrow with the Arrow-Shooting Spell as I ducked, flinging the conjured arrow into the Marsh Troll's Nether Region. The Troll's eyes crossed at my arrow punched into its scrotum, fire-hardened wood club dropping from suddenly-nerveless fingers as it sank to its knees, clutching at its ruined bollocks. That one was out of the fight, now to deal with the other one.

I turned just in time to see the Second Troll's bone club coming in at me, the Second Troll having extricated itself from the transfigured quagmire to attack me. I started to backpedal, but he was too close, and the only thing I could do was try to minimize the damage. Fortunately, my reinforced duster and the fact that I was moving away robbed the attack of the vast majority of its power. Instead of pulping my chest like a melon, the blow that slammed into my side only bruised the left side of my torso. Of course, it also sent me skidding backward toward the edge of the patch of dry ground we were fighting on. With my back against the wall, or heels against the swamp, as the case may be, the Second Marsh Troll sensed I was on the ropes. It bellowed at me, charging with its bone club, aiming for my head in a downward smash.

I sidestepped the descending club, darting past the Second Marsh Troll but taking a swipe from its meaty off-hand to the shoulder as I did so. A fist that was the size of a cast iron skillet hammered into my left shoulder with a carefully, bruising my shoulder and flattening me to the ground. I quickly tried to get to my feet as the Second Marsh Troll spun around to face me. It raised its Bone Club high to try for another vertical smash, this time with both hands, but now it was the one with its back to the swamp. I snarled out an Incarcerous Spell, conjured rope wrapping around both of the Marsh Troll's legs. It let out a plaintive bleat of surprise at that, but I wasn't done, casting a Flipendo that sent the Marsh Troll toppling into the water. I finished it off with one of my new spells, Charybdis Vertex sucking the Marsh Troll down into a whirlpool, drowning it.

Huffing and puffing, I nodded at the results. With one Marsh Troll dead by drowning, and the other bleeding out on the ground thanks to an arrow wound to the bollocks, I had just successfully defeated two trolls at the same time, all by myself. A marked improvement from Halloween, when I'd needed Harry and Ron to help me do a similar feat. Plus, I'd only been bruised a bit instead of having my arm broken. I could stand to improve more, of course, that was a given at all times, but I was going to call this one a win for me. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to bask in the afterglow of my victory. There was no way that the rest of the Marsh Troll Tribe of the Deep Marsh didn't hear the skirmish. I needed to leave before more trolls came by to check out the noise. Fortunately, I had ways of disappearing if I needed.

I reached into my Mokeskin Pouch and pulled out the Zabini Family Concealment Cloak, draping it over my shoulders before pulling out a vial of Snape's Scent Neutralizing Potion and spraying myself with it. A casting of Sona Inferior on my feet ensured that sound was neutralized, and I was ready to sneak. Unfortunately, I could do little about any tracks I might leave in the muddy ground, but hopefully, the tribe of Marsh Trolls would be too unobservant to pay much attention to those. I doubted it, Trolls were Hunters and Gatherers, after all, but there was still that hope. So cloaked in stealth, I headed deeper into the Deep Marsh toward the Thin Place in the Center near the ruins of Toadstone Castle. As I'd predicted, however, the Marsh Trolls had heard the sounds of battle and cone running.

A War Party of Marsh Trolls had clearly been gathered to investigate. Four Marsh Trolls with fire-hardened wood or bone clubs led by a larger Marsh Troll whose large bulk was covered in patchwork hide and wood armor, with a beast skull for a helmet and a club made of knapped stone affixed to a wooden haft with leather cords. That was obviously the Tribal Chief of the Marsh Trolls. They were clearly taking this seriously. After all, most Troll Tribes were actually more like large extended families, with maybe a few hundred members per tribe at most. In a place like Malltraeth Marsh with all its predators, Hazards, and potentially Fae coming out of the Thin Place to screw with them? I'd be shocked if there were more than eighty trolls in the Malltraeth Marsh Troll Tribe. Six Trolls out of a population of eighty represented seven and a half percent of the Tribe.

Indeed, as I made my way further into the Deep Marsh, signs of a flurry of activity could be seen. Trampled undergrowth as Trolls assembled for a potential attack were scattered here and there, while the normally ever-present sound of birds chirping had gone silent, as if the very wildlife was concerned about roaming Marsh Trolls. I was so busy looking at all the signs that I almost got discovered. Thankfully, the Sight granted me a vision a split-second before it happened, as my Third-Eye opened and I was thrust into a vision of a Marsh Troll Patrol bursting out of a corpse of trees in front and to the right of me and literally bumping into me, ruining my attempt at stealth by sheer chance. As I came back to myself in the present, I immediately flattened myself against a nearby tree trunk and went still.

As I did so, a pair of Patrolling Marsh Trolls ambled out of the trees just as my vision had shown. This time, they lumbered past without brushing me as I held my breath and waited, pressed against the tree trunk. For a few long moments, I stayed like that, waiting to see if the Patrol returned. When they didn't, I breathed out in relief and pressed onward. Interior patrols meant I had to be close to a Tribal Settlement. Indeed, as I rounded the copse of trees, I spotted the settlement. It was crude, with ramshackle, cone-shaped huts made of wood, hide, moss, and mud. However, that was about what you would expect of a Neolithic Tribe living in a Marsh. Here and there, nets of woven reeds were strung up to dry, while a number of Marsh fish were hung on racks. Shaking my head, I decided to go around the collection of teepee-like huts and bypass the settlement entirely. There was no sense in stirring up more trouble, after all.

Thankfully, I only had to dodge one more Patrol of Marsh Trolls before entering the more wooded section of the Deep Marsh around the Thin Place. Another pair of Marsh Trolls with Fire-hardened wood clubs that forced me to duck into a patch of tall grass and Marsh reeds near the treeline to truly avoid, as by this point, the Sona Inferior Spell and Snape's Scent Nullifier were wearing off, and I decided to err on the side of caution. It was as I did so that I noticed something interesting. I wasn't alone in these reeds. I shared the hiding spot with a skeleton that looked like it had been here for close to seven hundred years. Scraps of rusty armor and rotten leather, and cloth still clung to the skeleton of what was clearly a Medieval Welsh Wizard, possibly a member of Toadstone Castle's Garrison. The broken wand suggested he would have been in the right time period. After all, wands had replaced staves throughout all of Europe by eleven hundred.

Frowning, I peeked out of the reeds to see the Trollish Patrol had left the area, traipsing back toward the collection of ramshackle huts that served as a Tribal Settlement. Then I turned back toward the Skeleton.

"I wonder who you were? Unfortunately, I'm not a Necromancer, so I can't ask you." I frowned.

The Skeleton, predictably, remained completely silent on the issue. At least whoever this had been was staying dead. Some Wizards coming across strange corpses weren't that lucky. Inferi were a thing, as were the more standard, necromantic sorts of undead, after all. I suppose I should just be thankful that this was a run-of-the-mill corpse. It did suggest that the wooded area of the Deep Marsh around the Thin Place was more dangerous than out here, but I already knew that would be the case. After all, I'd done my homework on this place. Still, I found myself taking a deep breath to steel myself before entering the wooded section of the Deep Marsh by slipping through the treeline.

As I did so, I took down the hood of my Family Concealment Cloak and looked around. I realized that this was going to be a lot different than the more flat section of the Deep Marsh. For one thing, there was a lot more water and mud in this area and a lot less solid ground. For another, what solid ground there was seemed to be packed with vegetation. Trees, underbrush, and so on all seemed to compete with each other for a place on solid ground. Others were stuck in the wetter sections, and those were the more dangerous ones. I saw the writhing tendrils of a Devil's Snare snatch up a Jarvey, which squeaked out a single expletive before the tendrils squeezed and snapped the vocal, weasel-like, creature's neck. At the same time, another Medieval Welsh Skeleton could be just barely seen under the murky water of the Marsh, having drowned during the flight from Toadstone Castle.

As I looked at that Skeleton, however, a dark shape darted through the water nearby, quickly breaching the surface to reveal itself. A sinuous body halfway between a snake and a fish reared up, with two bulging black eyes and a giant maw full of sharpened, needle-like teeth. A mature Alp Luachra had just burst out of the water to hiss at me. A flick of my wrist had my wand back in the palm of my hand as the Joint-Halver lunged for my face, trying to latch on and lay its eggs down my throat. Time slowed down as the Dead Moment engaged, and I used the last bits of my potion-based enhancements to dodge aside, casting a Diffindo at the Joint-Halver as I sidestepped. My spell succeeded in cutting into the rubbery hide of the Alp Luachra, but it only opened up a small gash as opposed to cleaving the thing in two.

Cursing as I remembered how all Fae possessed some degree of innate Magic Resistance, I ducked in time to avoid the Joint-Halver's snake-like tail, which it had tried to swing at my temple, sideways. I came back up, conjuring arrows with the Arrow-Shooting Spell. One of the arrows grazed the Alp Luachra, cutting a thin line across its rounded face, but it swayed around, dodging between the others. That was all right, by me, however, as if the Joint-Halver was dodging conjured Arrows, it wasn't attacking me. I maneuvered it into place as it swayed between my conjured arrows and then pulled back my wand hand as if firing a bow and cast the Incendiary Bolt spell at the Alp Luachra to finish it off.

"Flammeum!" I spat as I cast my spell.

A flaming javelin shot forth and impaled the Joint-Halver just as it came back in at my face, blowing it away from me and pinning it to a nearby tree. It let out an unearthly screech from the implementation by conjured javelin, though the flames didn't bother it as much as they should. It still died all the same, as it was nailed to a tree. With a curse, I conjured Ice using the Ice Jinx to douse the flames before they could catch the tree on fire and took a few deep breaths. As soon as I was recentered from the surprise attack, I pulled my hood back up and kept moving, once more under the cover of my Family Concealment Cloak. There was no way the Trolls didn't hear the Alp Luachra's Death Screech. Not this close to the treeline. I had to keep moving before they investigated.

As I did so, I occasionally spotted more corpses of Medieval Welsh Soldiers. They seemed to have fallen during the flight from Toadstone Castle, as the Castle was abandoned. The scattered skeletons laid a trail of sorts to the Castle and the Thin Place it guarded. As I followed that trail, I idly wondered just what, exactly, the story was there. The history books I'd done research with didn't say anything about the subject except that the Castle had been abandoned. Maybe I would find out if I could explore the Castle Ruins some? That would be risky. I didn't want to get caught in the Malltraeth Marsh overnight, after all, and it was already past three in the afternoon when I reached the ruins of Toadstone Castle. With three hours to return to Stonecircle through the Marsh, and sunset at eight PM, that didn't leave a whole lot of time for exploration.

Fortunately, however, I had both the Mind Arts and Bardic Magic allowing me to cheat. By using Remote Viewing and Psychometry, I was able to find a hidden chamber that had a number of things inside. A skeleton slumped over a rotten table on which rested a pair of tomes written in Old Welsh that I had to use Pob Laith to read. There was also a chest of Galleons, which went into my Mokeskin Pouch, and an Enchanted Dagger, which also went into my Mokeskin Pouch for later study. Of the Tomes, one was a Grimoire that seemed to hold the accumulated Magical Knowledge of Garnoc ap Daffydd, Rightful Prince of Gwynedd, Court Wizard and heir of his brother, Owain ap Daffydd. The second tome was Garnoc's account of his time at, and abandonment of, Toadstone Castle.

Apparently, he'd been sent by his brother to prepare the Neglected Castle as a potential fallback point should the English manage to capture him. As it happened, that was exactly what happened a year into Garnoc's residence at Toadstone Castle in twelve-eighty-three. Granoc maintained a resistance from Toadstone Castle against the English for a few years, but he was forced to abandon the castle in twelve-eighty-seven after four years of fighting. Apparently, he'd been unable to do the normal patrols into the Thin Place while also fighting the English, and the Castle had come under attack by a Greater Water Leaper that Granoc only referred to as 'The Beast'. Furthermore, the English had routed his guerrillas in battle near Aberffraw, and Granoc had been left with only a handful of forces.

He'd ordered Todestone Castle abandoned since they could no longer hold it against the Beast, but neglected to abandon it himself. Instead, it seemed he'd shut himself in this hidden room and waited to die. Frowning, I pocketed both the Grimoire and the Journal and looked over at Gwenoc's Corpse. His wand was broken in half and his robes were in ragged, moldy tatters, but on his head was a crown of tarnished gold and silver, studded with pearls, the Coronet of the Princes of Gwynedd. There was an enchantment laid upon it as well, which I would study later. Taking the crown from his skull and placing it into my Mokeskin Pouch, I nodded at the corpse of Gwenoc ap Daffydd.

"I'll kill the Beast for you. I know it's still here, I've seen the signs." I promised.

I wouldn't have to go looking for very long to find the Beast, of course. It had seemed to sense there was an intruder in its Domain. As soon as I exited the hidden chamber and made my way back out into the Courtyard, a loud, croaking bellow issued forth from nearby as a giant form burst through one of the half-tumbled stone buildings around the Courtyard of Todestone Castle. Half-Toad, Half Snake, with bat wings and a stinger at the end of the tail. The Beast stared down at me with its bulging eyes. I quickly downed another set of potions, which only seemed to anger The Beast. It let out a croaking bellow, rearing up on its serpentine tail and flapping its batlike wings. I flicked my wrist, my wand landing in the palm of my hand thanks to the spring-loaded wrist holster.

Then it pounced at me, and the Battle Against the Beast had begun. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. We get a fight with trolls, a fight with a Joint-Halver, a bit of stealth, and a bit of Worldbuilding all wrapped into one chapter, ending with the Appearance of the Greater Water Leaper known as The Beast. Blaise is gonna have to really pull out all the stops here because this is gonna be a tough fight for him. Plus then he has to somehow sneak his way back out of the Malltraeth Marsh past the on-alert Marsh Troll Tribe afterward, something he might not be able to do if he's wounded badly enough.

At any rate, the next chapter will include the fight with The Beast in the Ruins of Toadstone Castle. I'll also have a few more images out before then as well.

Stay tuned. . .