Akiros received the report from his southern picket calmly, since this is the sort of thing he’d quietly expected. They said there were trolls on the move, armed, armored, and organized. And he’d fought trolls before, and knew what to do.
Oil was quickly spread across the two trails that led to the Myralanna Regiment’s camp, and archers were placed in nearby trees. He’d already fortified some low hills to his west and south, and so when the trolls quietly – quietly for trolls, that is – moved in on his force, his pickets, archers, and the flames took them by surprise, wresting the initiative from them before they could fall on the supposedly unsuspecting human army.
The battle last almost an hour, and the trolls never achieved any sense of momentum, being attacked with flame from three directions. Their attack, which had relied on brute force and surprise, was unable to leverage the former because the latter wasn’t achieved.
Sustaining only a few deaths and minor injuries, the Myralanna Regiment was at last blooded, having come away from its first battle victorious, with several smoking troll carcases as proof, and the rest of the raiding force dispersed and combat ineffective.
Reg realized that the Misthaven Regiment was under attack at almost the same moment he was alerted to the sighting of a signal arrow from Myralanna, which was also under attack. The screech of flying beasts filled the air as wyverns and their riders swept down on the army, camped several miles north of Freeton. Barking orders and strapping on his own armor, Reg made ready to join the fight as his archers fired furiously into the night sky. Some of the beasts had landed and were ripping through tents and troops, scattering his men as they tried to form up to offer a defense. Reg smiled grimly as he saw one wyvern shot from the sky by a flurry of arrows, and quickly swarmed by men on the ground. The beast and its rider, however, did not go quietly, killing several men before being silenced.
Soon after the attack from the air began, Reg learned that a band of trolls was attacking out of the western hills. “Damn! I knew we’d camped too close…what was I thinking?” he cursed to himself as he ran toward that side of the camp, yelling orders and trying to organize his men, some of whom were clearly stunned by the double attack.
The battle took its toll on the Misthaven Regiment, killing numerous men, wrecking a sizable amount of equipment and rolling stock, and spreading the unit thinly across and expanded area as it tried to chase down the trolls, once defeated. The wyverns, while dangerous, were few, and disengaged after sustaining significant casualties – or so it seemed in the dark. The trolls were ferocious and unrelenting, and killed many, but were eventually destroyed as a force.
Misthaven, ‘the Realm’s Defenders,’ had been caught flat-footed, and would bear the scars of its mistakes. Despite this, it had repulsed a smallish attack, and knew for certain what it faced: the forces of Pitax.