Dawn broke over the Serpent's Spine.

  The Talons moved following Olaf's lead towards the bait point near the canyon entrance. Eirik, Leif, and Yorick shadowed the Trap Group heading for high ground flanking the canyon's bottleneck.

  Eirik replayed the variables: Ten warrior trolls, plus the shaman, plus workers. The canyon is narrow – fifty yards long, ten wide at the choke. Our noise draws them. Trap seals them in. Bjorn rains death from above.

  The air grew thick with troll-stink. They were close. Eirik signaled silently. The Trap Group fanned out, scrambling up the steep slopes to positions overlooking the canyon's throat.

  Leif took point, directing men with sharp gestures towards the heavy logs and piles of rocks poised near trigger points. Yorick crouched behind a boulder, peering into the canyon's gloom.

  Eirik found a vantage point beside Leif, overlooking both the canyon entrance and the distant troll defile.

  They're still inside.

  Minutes crawled by. Eirik's breath misted steadily. Then, a distant sound shattered the quiet.

  CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

  The rhythmic hammering of steel on steel echoed across the mountainside. Olaf's signal. A heartbeat later, a thunderous roar erupted from the ridgeline.

  "FROST TAKE YOU, UGLIES! COME GET SOME!"

  "RAAAGH! FILTHY SNOTLOCKS!"

  Men screamed, shouted, banged swords on shields. The cacophony rolled down the slopes, amplified by rock walls, bouncing into the troll defile.

  Movement.

  Dark shapes emerged from the large cave mouth. Big. Hulking. Tusked. They paused, massive heads turning towards the noise, sniffing the air. Guttural roars answered Olaf's challenge.

  One. Two. Three warrior trolls lumbered out, clubs hefted. Then a fourth. They started moving with ground-shaking strides towards the canyon entrance. Their path would take them directly past the hidden Trap Group's position.

  Four drawn. Good start. Where are the others? Where is the shaman?

  "Positions!" Leif hissed. The Trap Group readied themselves.

  The four trolls were closing distance. Their roars mingled with the Talons' continuing racket. Their focus was locked on Olaf's ridgeline, broad backs exposed as they passed the canyon chokepoint.

  The trolls passed the canyon entrance. Ten yards in. Twenty.

  "NOW, LEIF!" Eirik commanded.

  Leif's arm chopped down. "TRIGGER ONE! GO!"

  Three Talons heaved. A massive lever groaned. With a splintering CRACK!, a huge log studded with sharpened rock tumbled down directly into the canyon entrance. It slammed into the narrow opening, creating a massive obstruction.

  The lead trolls barely registered it, focused on the noise ahead. They were thirty yards into the canyon now.

  "TRIGGER TWO! THREE! NOW!" Leif yelled.

  More levers pulled. Another log crashed down behind the first, thickening the barrier. Higher up, ropes were yanked. A cascade of boulders thundered down onto the canyon floor behind the advancing trolls.

  CRUMP! BOOM!

  The canyon shook. The rockfall landed across the narrow path, not hitting the trolls but completely blocking their retreat. They were trapped between the barrier behind and Olaf's warband ahead.

  "YES!" Olaf roared from his ridge. "STUCK LIKE PIGS! LIGHT 'EM UP!"

  From higher up the canyon walls, crossbow bolts hissed down. THWUNK! THWUNK! They mostly bounced off thick hides or stuck harmlessly in layered fur. One troll roared as a bolt glanced off its shoulder.

  Then ice spheres trailing smoke arcs sailed through the air.

  WHOOSH… CRACK-FOOM!

  Frostfire bloomed. Violent gouts of blue-white flame erupted around the trapped trolls, clinging to fur and hide. One troll shrieked, clawing at its arm where the Frostfire burned. Another stumbled as its foot became encased in spreading ice.

  CHAOS.

  The canyon echoed with roars of four enraged, injured trolls. They slammed clubs against rock walls, trying to smash towards Olaf's noise, blinded by Frostfire smoke and fury.

  It's working! On four of them… Eirik's gaze snapped back to the defile.

  His blood ran cold.

  Only four warriors had been drawn out. Five figures stood clustered near the large cave entrance. Two more warriors had emerged, clubs ready. One worker-type troll stood behind them. And between them stood the shaman.

  It hadn't budged.

  The shaman pointed its staff towards the canyon where explosions echoed. It shook the staff, crystals humming with power. Frost gathered in the air around it. Then it gestured sharply back into its smaller cave entrance. A low, guttural command resonated. The two fresh warriors immediately turned and lumbered towards the shaman's cave, taking guard positions. The worker scurried back inside.

  It's fortifying the heart. It's not panicking – it sees the canyon fight for what it is. A distraction.

  Yorick scrambled up beside Eirik, panting. "Commander! The shaman! It didn't move!"

  "I see it, Yorick," Eirik said. His mind discarded the infiltration plan instantly. Three of us against two warriors and a shaman inside a cramped cave? Suicide. He needed leverage. He needed to hurt the tribe deeply enough to force the shaman's hand.

  Leif clambered up. "The trap's sprung, but only on four. The shaman's too smart." He followed Eirik's gaze. "And now it's dug in."

  Below, chaos in the canyon continued. One trapped troll, half-encased in ice, had collapsed. Another staggered blindly. Bjorn's group can probably finish them eventually. But it will take time. And those warriors guarding the shaman won't budge.

  "New plan," Eirik announced. "The shaman's protecting its cave. Fine. We kill its warriors. Right in front of it."

  Leif's eyes widened. "Attack the two guarding the cave? But Commander—"

  "Not the two at the cave. Not yet." Eirik pointed down the slope towards the ritual bone pile. "Look."

  A worker troll had emerged from the large cave. It clutched a frozen beast leg, lumbering towards the bone pile. It was isolated. Vulnerable.

  "One worker," Yorick said. "But…"

  "Not just one," Eirik countered. "The trap drew four warriors. Two are guarding the shaman. That means there should still be more warriors inside the large cave." He turned to Leif. "They won't stay inside forever. Not with their kin screaming. The noise will draw them out. Especially if we make a new noise. Right here."

  Understanding dawned on Leif's face. "You want to hit them as they come out?"

  "Not an ambush. A slaughter." Eirik said. "We kill that worker. Fast. Where the tribe can see. Then, when warriors rush out to avenge it… we kill them too. Right on the doorstep. We make the shaman watch its warriors die."

  He looked from Leif to Yorick. "Leif, recall half the Trap Group. Get them down to those rocks. Silent approach. Wait for my signal. Yorick, you stay hidden here. Watch the shaman's cave. If it moves, warn us immediately."

  "Commander," Leif breathed, "that's asking for a death wish—"

  "Then we kill the first one or two incredibly fast," Eirik stated, drawing the Fenrir longsword. "That will shake the shaman's confidence. Now move, Lieutenant."

  Leif swallowed hard, then nodded, scrambling back down. "Thirteen! Forty-two! Twenty-One! With me! Crossbows ready!"

  Eirik didn't wait. He focused his will, feeding mana into the Skyfrost Cloak's clasp.

  [MANA EXPENDED: 1]

  [MANA: 24/25]

  [ACTIVE CAMOUFLAGE ACTIVATED]

  He slipped downhill, using rocks and dips for cover. He reached the lower boulders just ahead of Leif and five Talons. The worker troll had clearly noticed the roarings outside but appeared to be determined to stay here. His focus stayed on the distant battlefield.

  Eirik crouched behind a boulder, ten yards from the worker troll. Leif and the others pressed in beside him. Five crossbows were levelled.

  "Target the neck joint," Eirik whispered. "Below the jawline. Fire on my mark. One volley. Then Leif and I charge. If more come out… shoot anything that moves."

  The worker troll took a step towards the large cave mouth.

  Now.

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  "FIRE!" Eirik hissed.

  THWUNK-THWUNK-THWUNK-THWUNK-THWUNK!

  Five heavy crossbow bolts snapped through the air. The worker troll jerked violently. Three bolts hit its thick torso, sinking deep. One grazed its ear. The fifth bolt struck true.

  It punched through the softer hide below the jaw, plunging deep into the troll's neck. The creature froze, a gurgling roar erupting from its ruined throat. Dark blood bubbled from its mouth and neck wound. It dropped to its knees, clawing at the bolt shaft.

  "CHARGE!" Eirik roared, dropping his camouflage. He erupted from behind the rocks, the Fenrir longsword gleaming. Leif was behind him, sword raised.

  The troll was still alive, gasping, trying to rise. Eirik didn't slow.

  He leapt the last few yards, bringing the masterwork longsword down in a vicious, two-handed chop aimed at the bolt protruding from the troll's neck.

  CHUNK!

  The impact jarred up Eirik's arms. The heavy blade sheared through troll hide, muscle, and bone. The troll gurgled. Its massive head, severed cleanly below the jawline, tumbled into the bloody snow. The headless body slumped forward, dark blood fountaining from the ragged stump.

  Leif skidded to a halt beside Eirik, staring at the decapitated body spurting blood onto the frozen ritual ground. The Talons behind gasped. Beheading a troll brutally in ten seconds… that was different.

  ROOOOOOAAAAARRR!!!

  The sound ripped through the mountains. It came from the large cave mouth.

  The shaman reacted instantly. Its staff snapped towards the killing ground, crystals flaring bright blue-white. Frost crackled around it. It let out a piercing shriek.

  Not four. Not five. Six massive warrior trolls burst out simultaneously, driven by the shaman's command and the scent of their kin's blood. Their eyes were fixed on the small group standing over the headless corpse only twenty yards from their cave.

  The ground trembled as six tons of enraged troll flesh charged. Clubs the size of tree trunks were raised. Tusks gleamed. The primal fury of the charge was terrifying.

  The Talons behind Eirik and Leif froze, staring death in the face.

  "BRACE!" Leif screamed. The crossbowmen scrambled to reload.

  Eirik didn't freeze. They're committed. He met Leif's panicked gaze.

  "NOW, Leif!" Eirik roared over the charging trolls. "THAT'S how you draw them out! Crossbows! Aim for the eyes! FIRE!"

  The five Talons reacted, reflexes honed by fear and drilled commands. Five heavy bolts snapped forward with sharp THWUNK! sounds.

  One missed, skittering off a boulder. Two slammed harmlessly into thick shoulder muscle. Another gouged a deep furrow across a charging troll's chest, drawing a roar but no stumble.

  But the fifth bolt, fired by Thirteen, flew true. It struck the leading troll square in its beady, bloodshot left eye. The beast stumbled mid-stride, a shattering bellow tearing from its throat. It crashed to one knee, clawing at the shaft in its skull.

  "Leif! Fall back! Behind the rocks! Archers, reload! Second volley on my mark!" Eirik didn't wait for acknowledgment, already pouring mana into his cloak.

  [MANA EXPENDED: 1] [MANA: 23/25] [ACTIVE CAMOUFLAGE ACTIVATED]

  The Skyfrost Cloak blended Eirik with the frost-limned rocks. He sidestepped, putting the dead worker troll's bulk between himself and the charging giants. They ignored the corpse, focused on the living targets scrambling back – Leif and the five Talons.

  The leading troll raised its club, aiming for Leif desperately scrambling over low rocks. The distance closed horrifyingly fast. Too fast.

  Eirik acted instantly. He visualized a solid, thick wedge of ice appearing directly beneath the charging troll's massive foot.

  [MANA EXPENDED: 2] [MANA: 21/25] [ITEM: Conjured Ice Wedge (F-Grade)]

  The frost bloomed and solidified. A three-foot-long, slick, sloping block materialized right where the troll's foot would land.

  The troll stepped down. Its clawed foot hit the angled ice.

  Skreeeeech!

  Its weight and momentum betrayed it. The leg shot out sideways. Balance vanished. With a startled bellow, the twelve-foot monster crashed sideways.

  Eirik dropped camouflage as the Talons scrambled over the barrier. "Volley! NOW!"

  "Loose!" Leif gasped, hauling himself over rocks. Four crossbows fired again. The shock of seeing their kin crash unnerved the trolls slightly. Two bolts slammed into a lagging troll's chest. Dark blood bloomed, but it roared and kept coming. Another bolt chipped a tusk. The fourth missed.

  Not enough. They're still charging. Four trolls were almost upon the sheltering boulders. The fifth disentangled itself from its fall. The blinded one howled. The shaman stood near its cave, staff raised.

  Then the shaman acted.

  It slammed its crystal-topped staff onto the ritual ground. A visible pulse of deep blue energy rippled outward across the snow. The crystals flared blindingly. The air temperature plummeted. Eirik felt it sear his lungs even through the cloak's regulation.

  The power ripple shot toward the charging trolls, washing over them as they neared the rocks.

  Frost armor! It just hardened them! Damn that witch-doctor! Frustration stabbed through Eirik. Hitting them just got much harder.

  "FROSTFIRE!" Eirik bellowed toward the Trap Group scrambling down the slope. "ON THE LEADERS! NOW!"

  The two Talons carrying Fisk's bombs hurled ice spheres trailing smoke arcs over the rocks toward the front-most trolls.

  WHOOSH… CRACK-FOOM! CRACK-FOOM!

  Twin gouts of searing blue-white flame erupted. One engulfed a troll's head and shoulders just reaching the barrier. The Frostfire hissed violently against fresh ice-armor. The troll shrieked, clawing at its face as fire burned through ice, searing flesh beneath. It staggered back, blinded and burning.

  The second bomb exploded at another troll's feet. Frostfire encased its legs in rapidly spreading ice. The troll bellowed, stumbling, trying to wrench free, its charge halted.

  Bought time! The third and fourth trolls hesitated, intimidated by flames consuming their kin. But their eyes, burning with fury under ice-rime, locked onto the humans. They raised clubs.

  "SHIELDS UP! BRACE!" Leif screamed.

  Eirik didn't hesitate. He couldn't conjure a wall fast enough. He needed to redirect.

  [MANA EXPENDED: 3]

  [MANA: 18/25]

  [ITEM: Conjured Ice Sheet (F-Grade)]

  He poured his will into the ground directly before the charging trolls. A sheet of sheer, frictionless ice, fifteen feet wide, erupted across their path.

  The trolls hit the ice.

  Skreeeeeeech!

  Their massive legs shot out sideways and forward. Too close, moving too fast. One troll pinwheeled its arms wildly, club flailing uselessly as its legs splayed. It slammed sideways into the rock barrier with bone-jarring force.

  The other managed half a step before its feet shot out. It landed hard on its back, the impact driving air from its lungs in a pained WHUMPH!, club clattering away.

  One troll burned. One encased. Two sprawled and vulnerable. The fifth was still untangling, the sixth blinded and thrashing. But the shaman screeched again, furious. It pointed its staff skyward. Frost gathered rapidly above the rock barrier, swirling into a miniature storm cloud.

  Ice shards. Hail. Eirik knew instantly. It's going to shred my men.

  "LEIF! OUT! GET OUT FROM BEHIND THE ROCKS! SCATTER!" Eirik roared, already moving, pouring mana again.

  [MANA EXPENDED: 1]

  [MANA: 17/25]

  [ITEM: Conjured Ice Dagger]

  He visualized it materializing mid-air, spinning fast, flying straight at the shaman's face. The gleaming dagger appeared three feet away and shot forward.

  The shaman saw it coming. With surprising speed, it jerked its head aside. The ice dagger grazed its thick cheek, drawing a thin line of dark blood. The spellcasting faltered. The gathering ice cloud dissipated slightly.

  Bought a heartbeat.

  Leif and the Talons scrambled away from the rocks, desperately seeking distance from any predictable cluster. But they were exposed in open ground between the ritual site and canyon slope.

  Number forty-two stumbled as he scrambled backward. He looked up just in time to see the ice-armored troll Eirik had tripped regaining its feet only yards away. It wasn't disoriented. It was enraged, beady eyes fixed solely on Forty-two. The troll roared, spittle flying, and swung its club in a brutal arc.

  There was no time to scream. The club, a massive trunk studded with rock shards and coated in rime ice, connected with Forty-two's torso.

  CRUNCH.

  The sound was sickeningly final. Forty-two's body folded around the impact like a broken doll. Bones shattered, armor crumpled like tin. He was lifted clean off his feet, flung twenty feet through the air like a discarded rag, and landed in a broken heap near the ritual bone pile, motionless. The snow around him instantly stained crimson.

  "NO!" Leif's scream was raw with horror. The other Talons gaped, frozen for a deadly second by their comrade's sudden death.

  Damn it! Eirik's fury surged. Forty-two was his responsibility. "DON'T STAND! KEEP MOVING! CROSSBOWS, RELOAD! TARGET THE DOWNED ONES! KILL THEM WHILE THEY'RE VULNERABLE!"

  His voice shattered their paralysis. Thirteen and Goran scrambled further back, fumbling bolts into crannequins with trembling hands. Leif joined them. The other two Talons drew swords, positioning themselves as a desperate shield.

  The shaman recovered from the dagger distraction and slammed its staff again. This time, it aimed at the burning troll. A pulse of pure cold washed over the creature. The troll, still howling but no longer burning, thrashed wildly.

  The trapped troll was back on its feet. The one slammed into rocks shook its massive head, snarling. The two who had slipped struggled to rise on treacherous ice. The blinded one still clawed at its eye. The encased one roared, trying to smash the ice around its legs.

  Need to end this phase.

  He saw movement higher up – Leif's recalled Trap Group, finally reaching position on the slope overlooking the ritual site and troll cave. Ten men, crossbows aimed down.

  "TRAP GROUP!" Eirik yelled, pointing toward the shaman and two warrior trolls guarding its cave. "FIRE AT WILL! DISTRACT THE SHAMAN! PIN DOWN THOSE GUARDS!"

  A ragged volley rained down from the slope. Most bolts clattered harmlessly off rocks near the shaman or thudded into thick guard hides. But it forced the shaman to flinch, raising its staff defensively. The two guards roared, shifting stance, focus momentarily pulled upward. Good enough.

  The troll Eirik had tripped finally found purchase and charged Leif's group again. Bjorn and Helga stepped forward bravely, swords raised, knowing it was hopeless against the ice-armored behemoth but determined to buy time for the others to reload.

  No. Not more losses.

  Eirik felt the cloak pull taut. He cut diagonally to intercept the charging troll before it reached Bjorn and Helga.

  The neck. Eirik dove into a roll beneath the troll's first clumsy swipe. He came up inside its guard, directly beside its massive thigh. He channeled everything into a single, upward thrust. Straight up, aiming for softer hide just below the jawline, where neck met body.

  The masterwork Ice-Steel blade punched through the troll's magically hardened hide. It met resistance, rime ice cracking. But Eirik drove the point deep.

  CHUK!

  Dark, steaming blood gushed over Eirik's hand and arm, hot even in freezing air. The troll's roar became a choking gurgle. It stumbled forward, collapsing onto its knees, then crashing face-first into snow, Eirik ripping his sword free in a shower of gore.

  "ONE DOWN!" Eirik bellowed, spinning away from the collapsing giant, sword dripping black blood. His eyes scanned the battlefield.

  Bjorn and Helga are safe. Thirteen and Twenty-Nine reloaded. Leif and the Trap Group pinning the shaman and guards. The burning troll is down, thrashing weakly. The encased one is still stuck. The blinded one is useless. The two who slipped are getting up…

  But the shaman... Eirik's gaze snapped back. Its staff pointed frantically – at trapped trolls, at Eirik, at the bodies of its kin.

  "LEIF!" he roared. "FORGET THE GUARDS! EVERYONE! CONCENTRATE FIRE ON THE SHAMAN! NOW! ALL BOLTS! ALL ROCKS! MAKE IT BLEED!"

  The order cut through the din. A hail of projectiles streaked toward the shaman.

  Bolts clattered off rock near its head. A bolt sent by Bjorn slammed into one guard's arm, making it bellow. Thirteen's bolt actually grazed the shaman's shoulder, drawing another thin line of dark blood. The shaman flinched violently, raising its staff defensively, crystals flaring erratically as it poured energy into a half-formed dome of frost around itself.

  It's scared! Eirik exulted internally. The tribe's morale hinges on it. Break the witch, break the horde.

  The shaman shrieked again, a sound of pure, impotent fury. It glared at Eirik across the carnage. Its beady eyes burned with hatred and something deeper…

  THRUM. THRUM. THRUM.