*Andrew’s POV*

I did a double-take at Blasko. He had to be fucking kidding me! Big Pete was as loud as an ox cart! But, of course, before I could say a damned thing, he went right on into saying his bloody piece.

“Don’t start Andrew, don’t start! We haven’t had any success just sending out regular scouting teams, so it’s time to try something different. You, me, and Doyle are all on tonight, so I want you to take a group of Scouts with Eliza, and Wednesday will go out with Pete. I want one of you two to bring me back a troll, alive and kicking, and that’s final.” He stroked his beard with an emphatic nod.

Shit. I hated being away from the Walls. What if everything went to the Abyss, something came for the Soul, while I was off looking for a troll to floss my asscrack with? As though it would just happen to be fluent in Common, conveniently know the details of all future planned attacks, and it surely wouldn’t mind divulging everything with only mild encouragement? I decided to tentatively poke the bear, but just gingerly. “’Final,’ as in, an orde-“

Blasko got right up in my face like an angry howler. “-Yes Second Officer; that is a fucking order! Are we clear?” I nodded stiffly. Goatscrote. Him and James were so tyrannical sometimes! Made me half-heartedly wish I had chosen the Dawn or Day. Jake and Siouxsie both seemed far more reasonable…

Blasko raised his eyebrows at me for emphasis before sitting back in his chair with a grunt. “Alright. You’ve heard first, so go grab three decent Scouts and go, whomever you like. I’ll let Wednesday know; Doyle’s agreed to watch the Initiates for the Night. Bring me back a hostage, Andrew.”

He looked at Eliza, who had stood, as always, taciturn and still, a short distance behind me. “Watchman Eliza, you are possessed of greater physical power than any bloody Watchman I’ve known. I’m hoping you can use it as an asset to restrain one of those things without killing it, and bring it back to us in good enough condition for interrogation. Do you think you can, realistically?”

I didn’t doubt for a second that Eliza could, but her answer made me unhappy. “I will likely require a boost before carrying such a substantial dead weight, depending on the size of the captive, and how far the distance.” It was remarkable, really, her ability to instantaneously cleanse her foul tongue when the situation called for it.

I frowned, but was glad for the conversation I’d had with Blasko a Night or so back, about the source of Eliza’s physical strength. He’d made sure every Watchman, Night or otherwise, had known too, within 24 hours. Now everyone knew to smack Eliza if she asked (though not too hard, lest they injure themselves). It was irrelevant that a lot of them had reacted with disbelief, what mattered was that they had heard it, and that they’d act when called upon; I believed they would.

Times were changing and calling for strange measures. That didn’t mean I had to like them. My scowl deepened.

Blasko pointed at me without hesitation. “Andrew, if Eliza says to punch her, you do it, son! Or if you don’t have the sack, have one of the Scouts do it! Are we clear?”

I nodded glumly. Somehow, I had never fathomed that either relationship or professional working dynamics on the Watch would encompass that sort of necessity…

Was it strange that I had always envisioned myself as the stronger half of a couple? Was it sexist? This wasn’t bad, it was just kind of an adjustment-

Blasko looked at me like I was daft. “Well? Get going!”

---

About an hour later, I found myself leading Eliza, Bret, Robin (Finck, the Night Watch Scout), and Michelle away from the Walls after what seemed like a very cold, rather unpromising trail. I’d gotten a few tips from Vice, the newer kid who’d been scouting with Whiplasher’s bunch. He’d sworn that all the recent sightings of troll scouts had been concentrated in the Northwest, just South of the Grey Path.

Absently, I found myself hoping we didn’t run into whichever of Big Momma’s sons it was that had ended up over here… I thought I recalled it had been the weirder one that had peed on himself. That could go poorly, I wasn’t sure how well he’d take to a bunch of Watchmen running around his turf, albeit with at least moderate stealth. Eliza wasn’t exactly a dainty flower.

After skirting around an area that stank of the undead, we hit pay dirt. I found a few fresh tracks and a liquor bottle, of all things. What the hell kind of covert scout litters? We left it untouched but proceeded with even greater caution.

After an hour and a half or so of following the fresher trail, Michelle swore that she could smell fresh troll piss. She had an unusually sensitive nose, and was rarely wrong when it came to olfactory matters. I gathered everyone to me briefly for a plan.

We knew the trolls generally scouted in groups of two to four, and I was leaning toward four from all the prints. Eliza was certain she could subdue one by herself, though perhaps not carry it once unconscious without getting a ‘boost’ beforehand. We agreed to deal with that after we had the damned thing, and just kill the rest. Eliza agreed to let us know in a timely fashion if she accidentally killed her target, so we could try and wrangle another one.

The other Watch Scouts looked a little doubtful at Eliza’s claims, but didn’t question me. Clearly, they hadn’t seen Eliza bring down Big Pete, or they wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the suggestion that we just leave her to it. I mused to myself whether I could offer to go collect berries or something, and just see if Eliza could gut them all unassisted, but that would have defeated the purpose, however amusing.

---

To everyone’s surprise, we eventually came upon a group of six trolls camped out around a full bloody campfire! It was hard not to laugh out loud and blow our cover. Bret circled widely round their camp, but found no sign of any other trolls laying in wait for us. It appeared this group really was just abysmally stupid, even for trolls. Their sentry had nodded off, and was even facing their fire. Excelsior!

I indicated to Eliza to target the smallest one, figuring it would be the easiest to carry. She nodded and quickly agreed, signaling she would also take out the one talking to the stumpy one. I raised my eyebrows but there was no time for arguing. I assigned a troll to each of the others and crept into position.

As the adrenaline filled me, as it always did, I felt that familiar, brief moment of melancholy before a strike. These trolls were soldiers, doing only as they were bid, as they had been raised and taught. Now, hopefully, they were going to die. Gods’ mercy that their deaths would be swift at our hands.

I waited a while longer, knowing Bret had the longest distance to move to get into position. I gave a crow’s call, Dennis Westower ready in my hand, and everything happened very quickly thereafter.

I slit the slumbering sentry’s throat, and saw three other shapes similarly slump over, two spraying blood. I heard Eliza shout, “Something’s wrong with this one!”

‘Wrong’ with it? I did a rapid scan to see that Eliza had the better hand over her second troll, and the little one was on the ground, tremoring. There was one other troll still standing, it appeared to have blocked Bret’s strike. I wasn’t sure if Bret was a good enough swordsman to face a troll alone, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

Hoping Eliza would manage to knock out her second troll if something had gone wrong with the stubby one, I flew quickly to dart behind the troll facing Bret. I was still airborne, preparing to run it through, when I heard Eliza yell: “Don’t kill it!”

Shit! Eliza must have accidentally killed her second troll! I had too much momentum, I had to veer to the side to stop myself from skewering the brutish thing. I hastily kicked the ugly bastard in the head as hard as I could to distract it from Bret. It went to its knees, but stayed conscious. Bret, who was clearly in the grips of battle mania, readied his blade.

“Don’t kill it!” I shouted to Bret, echoing Eliza, who heard me just in time to swerve his wrist and butt the troll on the side of its head with the pommel of his sword. Still, it snorted and shook its head! Gods!

Desperate, I landed and punched it with everything I had, feeling the skin on my knuckles tear clean off at the impact. “Gah!” I yelped; surprised at how hard its damned skull was. The tough fucker keeled over at last!

Bunions; that hurt! I shook my hand, but at least the fucking thing was out for the count! Ugh!

I looked around to check for more trolls, and was satisfied to find the Scouts circling carefully, watching and listening. Satisfied, I bent to turn the troll in front of me over, only to feel my sense of victory turn to dismay. The thing was foaming at the mouth and nose! “Shit, get back, all of you!”

Was this a trap after all? Eliza walked right up next to me, dragging the little troll with her by the foot. “Mine’s doing it too. I’m so sorry I accidentally killed the other one.” She paused. “Are they rabid?”

Irritated, I looked at her. “I said, get back!” She pointedly took exactly one step back, whereas the other three Watchmen were several paces away. Ugh.

I looked at the two unconscious trolls, bubbles coming freely, their breathing labored. Begrudgingly, I grabbed some leaves and cleared the foam away as it came. “No, I don’t believe they are rabid. This just started; they were just talking and eating a moment ago. This stinks of old school sorcery.”

My thoughts raced. Crilly’s group had briefly had a captive troll. Had that one, too, had this affliction? Clearly, I needed to talk to them, get some answers, when I got back, after this was through. Doyle hadn’t mentioned anything about any frothing… Still, I had to take care of the situation right in front of me first and foremost.

I chewed on my lip for a moment. These trolls could be incredibly dangerous, but they could also provide very badly needed answers. Bringing at least one of them to the edge of the Village was a risk I’d have to take. “Bret, Michelle, I want you to run like mad back to First Officer Blasko and tell him all you’ve seen. Tell him Eliza, Robin, and I are returning with one of these things, we’ll be outside the Gates as soon as we may. We’ll kill the other one outright. Go now.”

They both took off into the Night, and I looked at Robin. “Make sure the rest are dead and check them for useful information about their origin. Anything we haven’t seen before, let me know. I will deal with one of these and prepare the other for transport with Eliza.” Robin went off to check the bodies. He was a thorough Watchman, I trusted him.

I eyed the two lathering, comatose trolls. I looked briefly at Eliza, then indicated the troll that had attacked Bret. “Eliza, I plan to kill this one, they may be very dangerous. I don’t like the idea of you carrying either one, but it may provide vital information. Do you think you could carry the lighter one? Are you willing?” I frowned. I didn’t want her carrying it, but I didn’t see any alternative. Building a litter would take time we didn’t have, and one likely wouldn’t stand up under the dead weight of a troll regardless.

Eliza snorted as she looked at the troll she had subdued. “Of course I’m willing! But if you want me to carry him and not drag him, I need someone to slap me around a bit. Should I ask Robin?”

I wasn’t able to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her. “No, just let me take care of this first, Watchman.”

Feeling a little touchy, I drew my dagger and slit the throat of the unconscious, still-foaming, larger troll. Ready for any last-second death throes, something unexpected happened. I watched, fascinated, as its eyes abruptly opened, and it stared at me as it died. It didn’t struggle or make any vocalizations, and yet its eyes were pleading as it bled out. It just cried, silently, until its life was spent.

When it was gone, I felt wholly unsettled. I’d seen many, many enemies die. But I couldn’t recall ever having executed one that wasn’t able to fight back, that wasn’t actively trying to kill me in turn.

I rose, wanting just a minute to reflect on the significance of what I’d seen. “Watch the troll. I’m going to clean my gear while I have a moment.” Eliza nodded.

I found a few leaves and cleaned the darkening blood off of Dennis Westower and my dagger. Absently, I wondered just how many lives had fallen to their blades? Were they all justified? I knew such ruminations wouldn’t get me anywhere, but they were hard to avoid. I never enjoyed taking anything’s life away. It was a shame when people glorified killing.

It also occurred to me, as Dennis Westower went to sleep, and Little Johnny Rickfield was once again safely sheathed in its scabbard, that I didn’t know enough to determine the significance of the manner in which the troll had died. However, perhaps some in the Village did. If we were fortunate, we could get the stumpy troll back there before it expired, and others wiser than myself could see its condition. All the more reason for us to depart.

I glanced over at Eliza, and was a bit tickled to see that she hadn’t even drawn a weapon. Apparently, she had, somehow, killed a troll with nothing but her tiny, little-fingered hands, and I had missed it!

I walked back up to her, curious. I pointed to corpse of the troll that had originally been talking with the stubby one. “How’d you kill that troll over there?”

Eliza blushed and looked embarrassed. “Oh, uh… My uppercut broke his neck. My hand’s still tender from grabbing that arsehole, Phil’s, knife the other Night, and it hurt like the Devil’s own anal sores when I punched the first, smaller, guy out. Gave too much force when I had to act quickly on the second one. Sorry…”

My eyebrows shot up as I looked at Eliza’s extremely non-threatening looking fist, with her almost pudgy, rough fingers. “You punched him? And he died from it?”

Eliza frowned. “I said I was sorry! Shit…”

I shook my head, sorry I had missed out! “No, no, it’s just-“

Eliza cocked her head at me. “-I know. You don’t have to explain. Trust me, I’ve fucking well heard it already.” She eyed the sputtering troll. “Second Officer, now that you’ve had time to get settled and preen, perhaps you could get on with smacking me a bit?”

I frowned. I hated this. I was still full of adrenaline, and I didn’t want to wail on my woman, it felt wrong, especially when she was being overly sensitive because I was in awe of her bizarrely colossal strength! But I certainly couldn’t have Robin do it; I’d kill him! Irritated, I went looking for a branch, so I wouldn’t break my hand as I beat the woman I loved. My knuckles were already going to scab over from hitting the troll. Not everyone was made of iron. Ugh!

After a moment, I’d found a decent looking, tough stick. I pulled off all the twigs and came back to Eliza, feeling like an ass. She shot me a challenging look. “Well? C’mon then!”

Glowering forcefully, I made myself hit Eliza with the stupid branch on her delightful backside. She didn’t flinch, though she did snort, apparently amused. However, Robin burst into raucous laughter from the nearest troll corpse, and I felt like a complete idiot. I had assumed he would understand what we were doing.

Robin came trotting up, wheezing with laughter, completely unintimidated by my best glare. “Ah, Gods! Give me a moment, a moment-“

I’d had enough! “-Robin! Didn’t you fucking well hear that Eliza’s physical strength increases when she’s been struck?” He nodded, getting only moderately more somber. I continued on, not letting him speak. “Good! So, unless you insist on doing the honors, I have the unfortunate duty to inflict pain on my ward, so that we can transport this potentially extremely hazardous hostage back to the-“

I saw red when Robin interrupted me! But it was so out of character for him, I decided not to cuff his ass and let him say his piece, for the time being. “-With all due respect, Second Officer, thrashing Eliza with a stick isn’t necessary. Please, allow me to demonstrate?”

Confused, I gave Robin a guarded nod and a stern eye. He gestured to Eliza. “Can I have your hand?” She held out her hand, and Robin took it in one of his, as though they were shaking hands. He made a sympathetic face. “I really apologize, this is very painful. I’ll only do it for a moment, alright?”

I watched, curious, as Robin squeezed a part of Eliza’s hand with his fingers deliberately and firmly, holding on tightly. Eliza started to pant and scowl as her little tusks erupted rapidly out of her lower jaw, curling all the way up to her nose; her eyes turned completely black and began vibrating briskly. Sweat started to bead at her hairline. Robin immediately let go and tripped as he stepped back, falling, startled, to the ground.

Eliza hissed, rubbing her hand. “Fuck, that smarts! How’d you do that?”

Robin pointed up at Eliza. “Whoa!”

I rolled my eyes. “Get up Robin! As soon as we have returned to the Village and the hostage has been remanded to the custody of Blasko and the Council, you will teach me how to do that.” I turned to Eliza to ask her if she could carry the troll, only to watch her lifting it like a profoundly ugly bride. It was a totally surreal sight. Even if it was on the smaller side for a troll, it was still bigger than Eliza was. It defied all logic that Eliza didn’t topple over.

Robin was at least on his feet again, but still goggling at Eliza. I sighed. “Did you find anything, Robin?”

He looked at me and blinked. “I sketched out some of their tattoos, but that’s it. Rest is the same old.”

I nodded. Well, this troll was technically still alive, if not kicking. It was the best we could do, apparently. I wondered if Wednesday and Pete were encountering the same problem. “Alright, let’s get going.”

Notes

Robin


Michelle


Bret & Andrew
(no, they totally don't look identical. i just don't see what other people see.)