Ballad of Roshone's Revenge-Rise of the Trolloss (Battle Scene Posted)

[Fifth of Daybreak]

Sorry, I'm definitely not buying the size of the Trolloss here. That's only a four foot gain. That's nothing, when humans gain nearly one and a half times their height, which would be another 19 feet for a trolloss, and the trolloss have many more spikes than them. Each spike means more power, more height, more growth. 20 feet at least.

 

 

It's a young Trolloss at this point. I don't want to reveal too much of what I've got planned, but he will come back for another match later on. This idea that he hasn't grown fits snugly into that concept. That way later on, he'll be much bigger and badder, and we can pit him against something huge. 

[SmurfAquamarineBodies]

So long as the Troloss is semi-intelligent or controlled by the Whitespine, which is definitely intelligent, then he should stand a reasonable chance against the Skeletans. So my vote goes to the Troloss, so long as it can use the environment to its advantage.

[Fifth of Daybreak]

So long as the Troloss is semi-intelligent or controlled by the Whitespine, which is definitely intelligent, then he should stand a reasonable chance against the Skeletans. So my vote goes to the Troloss, so long as it can use the environment to its advantage.

Make sure you get your vote entered in the actual poll as well. I noticed you haven't yet, and tge trolloss is behind. If you're using a mobile device you may have to go to the full site to do it.

This is turning out to be quite close. We finally created an even battle it seems.

Edited May 21, 2014 by EMTrevor

[Chrono]

Hm. Trolloss I think would win, mainly because trolls are tough, and koloss are tough, so this is gonna be one tough mother to take down. 150 skeletals might be enough. I'll be excited to see how it ends, though!

[Fifth of Daybreak]

I know only 14 people have cast their vote, but I figured I'd post the battle scene anyways, as their is no clear winner from the narratives perspective at this point. I took some liberty with the suggestion to upgrade the Whitespine, and I think it plays well. Here is the next installment of "The Ballad of Roshone's Revenge."

 

It was a massive hoard that marched across the field, three columns, fifty abreast. At the front of each column was one of the troll skeletals, somehow scavenged from the bloody battle that Roshone had barely survived. The last two skeletons were true marvels. The largest of the blue beasts, having been flayed, one by the hand of the Trolloss, had also risen for Roshone’s cause. Somehow it seemed to make sense in Roshone’s mind. Why shouldn’t they serve me?  He grimaced, riding forward on his macabre steed.

 

They had barely crossed half the distance when it began. As if thrown from a highstorm, a stone rocketed through the air, windspren following in its wake, giggling. Roshone tracked it with his eyes, and swore, prompting the creature beneath him into speed he wasn’t sure it had. He felt the air of it passing behind him, and the weight of it sent the creature beneath him stumbling to keep its footing. It can’t have actually aimed at that range, can it? Roshone shivered.

 

He called for the march to break into a charge as earth rained from the sky. Chunks of buildings, chimneys, doorways, fountains, all crashed down around them. Roshone didn’t bother to count casualties, but he pressed on determined. The smell of dust clogged his nose and mouth, choking him. The sounds of stone on bone and the roars of the great thing echoed in his ears, as if it were only feet in front of him.

 

They covered the distance quickly, and Roshone quickly surveyed his troops. Among the columns, two were mostly intact, the third was sufficiently routed. He estimated at least thirty casualties, and one troll. The debris stopped flying as they closed in on the former town turned stronghold. There was a gate, Roshone stopped himself short of it, and shoved on the door. It was secured, but between himself, and his remaining large skeletals, they forced the thing open. Roshone was growing stronger by the day, his body growing leaner and tough, yet more powerful than even at his prime.

 

The army charged in through the open gate, and into damnation. By the Almighty’s tenth name! I thought the town was destroyed before. The last remnants of the city had been thrown out at the army, because nothing was recognizable. Streets were pulled up in odd places, and no buildings remained standing, only the outside wall, and another, circular wall, in the far back. In front of it stood the Trolloss.

 

Roshone looked at what had been barring the door. It was a pile of bones. They had all cracked by the force of opening the gate. Damnation, the thing wanted us to get in. He set his face in a determined grimace, and continued on. He got his first good look at the thing.

 

It stood at least seventeen feet tall. Its muscles were massive, as if it was struggling to get as much flesh into the space as possible. Yet, its skin was baggy, loose on its body. It pooled in placed, deep blue, each distinct patch seemed fixed in place somehow. It radiated strength, and Roshone thought he could feel a distinct pulse coming off the creature, along with the larger one coming from behind. He felt raw fury, hatred, and above all, power.

 

The thing bellowed again, grabbing a small chunk or rode from the rubble, and throwing it at their ranks. To Roshone, it seemed as if that last moment stood still. The rock, gracefully gliding across the desolated town square. The skeletals, gleaming white, sharp, and menacing, dancing across. Even in their lumbering, the larger creatures seemed majestic. His familiar mount bounding elegantly, dodging the missile. That moment was frozen in his head, the wind, the sound of the creatures yell, and bone running across stone. The constant thumping from in front of him. Then they closed the gap.

The stone had crashed into a troll and a Koloss skeletal, bouncing across the field taking down another handful of the bony things. Rohsone’s blade found his hand, and he roared back, feeling terrified and alive and enthralled. The thing had picked up two of the massive swords from the previous battle. His own Koloss had come back with smaller blades. It towered over Roshone, eyes fill of hatred, and it swung.

 

Both arms swung forward in a cross chop, Roshone and the Warg rode forehead, ducking. They passed under its legs and Roshone swung for the back of its ankle. The cut took a chunk of flesh off the thing, but it might as well have been a toe nail for all the difference it made. The Trolloss didn’t even seem to register the hit, and the skin just sagged down to cover the wound, now that that space had been freed.  His army crashed on beast, an ocean of white crashing against the blue cliffs.

 

Bones rained from the sky. Roshone couldn’t avoid taking cuts to his face and body as the various bits of creature streamed down around him. The remaining large beasts were engaging the things swords as the smaller skeletals swarmed the legs. Roshone led the Warg in a wide turn, surveying before coming in for another attack.

 

There were dozens of cuts all over the things body, but it still showed no signs of noticing. It started to work into a frenzy, each blow not parried took out groups of smaller skeletals. But the thing was losing ground. Pushed by the fury of the attack, it continued to stumble back further and further. Roshone came in for another pass, scoring a hit on its right arm, side, and heel, all at once. Behind him, the other Koloss fell, leaving just one troll.

 

The creatures surged on it all at once, dozens jumping and gaining purchase in the loose folds of its skin. It stumbled back, flailing madly at the creatures on top of it, scatterings bits of skeleton left and right in an explosion of deadly bone shrapnel. It hit the interior wall, and it crumbled beneath the four ton cobalt and white wrecking ball.

 

They poured inside over it hacking away, and for the first time, the roar showed a hint of pain. It picked itself off the ground, still struggling to scatter the things off its face and back. Inside the wall, at the very center, was a small shallow pool. It glowed effervescently, pale silver, and viscous. The Whitespine stood at the other side of the oasis, stooping and lapping up the strange liquid. Its eyes glowed strangely, dangerously. Roshone’s spike hummed in his spike, and a feeling of familiarity washed over him, as if a part of that pool was inside Roshone as well.

 

The Trolloss’s roar brought Roshone back to reality. Stormfather! I’m a blustering idiot. The other troll had fallen. Roshone figured he had less than three dozen skeletals left, and the Trolloss, though injured, still appeared to be holding strong. Roshone rode in for a third strike at the things heel. His sword connected with a satisfying thump, and the Trolloss roared in pain again, this time more desperately. It stumbled backward.

 

The skeletals reacted as before, swarming over the things again. The stumble regressed into a full fall, its roar echoing in the sky around. It tumbled backward, all the remaining skeletons hacking away. It landed with a crash, sending a shockwave through the area. Roshone sucked in a breath, dismounting from the Warg, which proceeded to pace nervously, bones clacking in the motion.

 

The Trolloss seemed to stop for a moment. Roshone let his breath out and relaxed, turning to face the Whitespine. Is it smiling again? Roshone heard a noise and turned back to the Trolloss. It brought its arms up, and then slammed them back down, propelling it to its feet. The skeletals scattered off it at the motion, all scattering to nothing. The Trolloss bellowed again, in defiance.

 

The Warg rushed forward, jumping over the swings of the things fist, both swords lying forgotten. It connected against its chest with its front paws, its teeth digging in deeply to the creature’s throat. The beast roared again, and Roshone found himself running towards it. He arrived right when the things hands crashed through the Warg’s skeleton.

 

Roshone jumped, propelling himself through the air in a mighty leap. He kicked out with his spiked leg, aiming for the heart. The thing struck out at Roshone, but he deftly deflected the blow with his sword, and his spike struck true, sinking into the monster’s heart. Roshone felt a rush, as if he and the beast were connected. He understood the creature, and all the fight left the creature, suddenly docile, as Roshone separated his foot from it, flipping back and landing gracefully.

 

The Trolloss fell back on its bad heel. It plummeted into the pool, sending the liquid spraying into the air. It tossed its arms and flailed, spreading the strange substance in every direction. The pool was very shallow, yet the thing kept sinking in, swallowed into it, even as the pool itself disappeared. As the last piece of the Trolloss disappeared into the now dry pit, Roshone felt a sudden loss in the back of his mind, as if he had lost his foot all over again.

 

He turned, but the Whitespine was no longer anywhere to be seen. His spike no longer thumped, but he could tell in which direction the blasted creature had gone somehow. Roshone set his jaw, and strode back to his makeshift camp to pack up. It was time to leave Jah Keved.

Edited May 24, 2014 by EMTrevor