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100% Game of Thrones: The Lion-Blooded Witcher / Chapter 8: Troll Hunting and Killing? Witcher 101.

บท 8: Troll Hunting and Killing? Witcher 101.

Getting through the forest wasn't hard, though the men who came on horses had to leave them near the bridge at the start of our journey. But overall, it was pretty easy.

I wasn't traveling with complaining greenhorns. I was traveling with Ned Stark and some of his most loyal men who had been in Robert's Rebellion with him. They weren't strangers to a little bit of hardship.

The problem, however, was getting them to believe my expertise and my tracking skills.

"The trails ended a few dozen paces back, my prince, how are you so sure we're on the right track?" Ned asked me, his face filled with questioning.

Sighing, I looked back at him, "Like the last time you asked, Lord Stark, I've told you about my experience with Trolls. They like to cover their traces when they get close to their nests. They may seem like dull creatures, but they've developed techniques to keep themselves alive. No doubt to survive against us humans," I said, a slight impatience to my voice.

This could have all been avoided if he and Robert had allowed me to do this on my own. Would've been quicker, as well.

Ned then kept his mouth shut, but the suspicion was still clear on his face. Just like it was the same on his companions' faces. Whatever. Not like I can give them anymore evidence to believe me until we actual find the troll.

And from how dense it's scent is, it should be nearby. By the gods it stinks where we are.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the cracking of a rock a few dozen yards to our right. I brought up my hand in a gesture for the others to stop, "Shhh!" I swiftly told them to shut up as I focused my senses. I kept my ears open for a few more seconds and just as I was about to tell the others to move in that direction, I heard a whistling sound which made my eyes widen immensely, "GET DOWN!" I roared at the northerners behind me, and I dived to Ned Stark, pushing him to the ground as a rock the size of a man's torso shot through the air and through the place where Ned had been standing.

The two of us collided with the ground, and Ned was pale, and coughing, the weight of me barging into him having knocked the air out of him. But his pale face was because he'd no doubt saw the massive rock miss him and hurtle into one of the companions he'd brought with him.

I looked over at that companion.

...It was safe to say that he wasn't alive anymore. Not unless he learnt to live without most of his upper body.

Unencumbered by my heavy Kingsguard armor, I flipped myself up and flicked off my scabbard from my claymore, letting the Valyrian blade flicker in the sunlight that broke it's way in through the tree canopy that stretched above us.

We were surrounded by shrubbery, but the direction of the Troll had been completed blasted out of the way, showing me the Troll who threw the rock.

It was about 9 feet tall, and about as wide as three men standing side-by-side with it's long, thick arms ending in club-like hands hanging down well past it's knees, barely above the floor - it didn't look like a human in any way. It's skin was a brownish orange on it's stomach, chest, and face, even the insides of it's arms were the same color, but the outsides of it's arms and it's back were ice blue and seemed to be covered in blue crystal-like rocks.

It's face was hideous and it had no lips, so it's jagged and thick teeth were on show to the world, as it's saliva was dripping from it's maw - that's where the rotten egg scent comes from.

But I didn't think about any of this as I clipped off my Kingsguard shoulder and torso armor. As the armor dropped to the ground with a clang, the Troll started to lumbered it's way over to us, but not before picking up another rock.

Underneath my plate armor, was some thin black leather armor, with golden trimmings, and my two daggers, criss-crossed across my chest.

I kept my golden gauntlets on, alongside the Cuisse and Greaves.

If I knew I would be needed to hunt monsters up here, I would've brought my armor, but there's no use complaining now.

Ned was up by now, and was rallying his companions. Though I just turned to him and held up a hand, "Stay back here with your companions, Lord Stark. This is an Ice Troll. It'll rip you and your friends apart," I said, not wanting to offend him, yet also not wanting him to foolishly rush an Ice Troll and die.

"And you're saying it wouldn't do the same to you?" Ned asked, incredulously.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," I nodded, before rushing off to meet the Troll. Why rush it? Because if you don't rush a Troll...

*WHOOSH!*

I swerved out of the way of the torso-sized rock, before swinging my claymore's flat side at the side of the rock, knocking it away from Ned and the others.

...The Troll will continue to throw massive fucking rocks at you.

So rushing the 9ft tall Troll with hands bigger than a person's head is the way to limit the risk, funnily enough.

I saw a few arrows and crossbow bolts fly past me, but they either clanged off of the rocky skin that protected it's arms and shoulders, or was stopped by the thick skin and fat that protected it's chest and stomach. Though one lucky bastard did actually get it in the nose, causing blood to spurt out like a fountain.

But it was mainly a superficial injury and just served to piss the Troll off.

Instead of picking up another rock, the Troll started picking up speed, running on all fours like a Gorilla charging. The ugly, yet mighty beast roared, it's spittle flying out of it's mouth stinking up the place, but I ignored that and focused.

I focused my senses, my breathing, my heart beat - I focused everything about me. I couldn't afford to make a single mistake against this thing. I may have a strong and tough body but a Troll has an even stronger and even tougher body.

I felt my eyes tighten into their cat-pupil appearance, and I begun my charge to meet the Troll.

As I got closer to the giant creature, I felt the ground shake under it's tremendous power and weight but all I felt...was excitement. Despite my complaining, I'd never pass up on a fight. Especially one with so much risk involved. So much challenge.

"Raughhhhh!" the Troll roared before rearing back it's massive hand and swinging it at me like a club, the air whistling around it, shaking and exploding out of the way. I just smirked and let my body fall to the ground, sliding across it with my left over momentum before I pulled myself up and spun around, slamming the edge of my blade into the Troll's stomach.

I sliced diagonally before jumping to the side and narrowly missing being hit by the Troll's two-handed slam.

The ground was thrown into the air by the attack but that didn't stop me as I burst through the dust, thrusting my claymore at the Troll's chest where there was already a bloody line slashing diagonally across it, starting from it's stomach. I was aiming for that line, as it would allow me to injure it quite badly without having to go through it's skin again.

But the Troll seemed to understand what I was going for as it moved it's body to the right, making me miss the intended area, but I simply put my second hand on the grip of the claymore and thrust it with even more power to make up for the added resistance I knew the skin would give.

The tip of the blade was stopped at the skin for less than a second, but soon pierced into the Troll's body, making it roar in pain and send a punch down at my head. Though I quickly avoided the hit by moving my body so the punch missed by a centimeter of two, letting it harmlessly boom off of the ground as I put my strength into the thrust.

This is proving to be a pretty fun fight, huh?

Was what I thought as I felt my smile spread across my face so far it hurt.

. . .

POV Change - Eddard 'Ned' Stark

As I watched the boy fight the beast that killed one of my men...I could only look on in awe at the nonchalant grace the boy used when he dodged.

He'd already got off two attacks on the Troll and it hadn't even hit him once!

The way he moved and attacked...it was like watching a predatory feline hunt. He weaved in and out of the attacks, knowing when to move and where to move like it was an almost instinctive action.

And the way he pushed through the Troll's defenses like they were next to nothing...it could be accounted for the fact that he was using a Valerian steel blade...but something tells me it's more than that. The way the Troll flinches every time he pushes, the way it backs up ever so slightly as a result...

What kind of training did this boy put himself through to be able to fight in such a way?

And if it's not the fruit of training, then, could this power really be held by a human?

. . .

POV Change - Damien

Dodging another haymaker from the Troll, I slashed across it's stomach and chest again, before pulling back, smiling.

I would be using Signs to get this over with quicker but those are my ultimate trump cards. Unless I'm really, really in danger, I don't want to use them in front of other people. One, because it would give up my trump card. But also because it would have them brand me as a magic-user or a witch. This world wasn't the same as Earth back in the Medieval times - I wouldn't be burnt at the stake for knowing magic - but there's definitely still a stigma against people who use magic.

Probably one born of fear.

Anyway, I charged back in but the Troll slammed the ground. Not aiming to hit me, but to throw a cloud of dust up in the air. Smiling at the cunning of the Troll, I stopped where I was and just listened as I closed my eyes.

Hearing something, I stepped to the side and heard a bang go off - a Troll's hand hitting the ground.

Hearing the air whistle again, I ducked down and an arm swiped at my torso where I once was. Taking this advantage, I guessed where the Troll was from a mixture of sound and smell, and sent out a thrust at where I believed it's body was. I felt my sword clash against the rocky skin of it's arms, and I clicked my tongue before swerving to the side of it's hurried swipe.

The dust was settling by now and I could see the Troll looking at me with hatred burning in it's eyes. It's body was pouring blood, just like it's nose. But I could also see the wounds healing quicker than it was losing blood.

Goddamn Troll regeneration.

As the troll was charging at me, I jumped, flipped and kicked it's nose, re-opening it's wound in full and causing it a whole lot of pain. It roared and brought it's hands up to cover it's nose and face.

Landing, I used my left over momentum to spin and throw my sword at the unprotected stomach.

The sword split through the air like a silver blur before colliding with the Troll. Blinded by pain, the Troll didn't keep up a defensive stance anymore, and brought it's hands down to the sword in it's gut, trying to pull it out.

I wasn't just standing still while doing this, however. What kind of Witcher would I be if I didn't take advantage of this scenario? A bad one, that's what.

I'd brought out my daggers before running at the roaring Troll.

I jumped up and at it's head before sticking a dagger into the rocky shell and getting it stuck in there. Using it as a fulcrum, I swung myself around and onto it's back. Pulling free my dagger, I lifted up my daggers before swinging them down and into the eyes of the Troll.

It screamed, not roared, thrashing about. When it tried to bring it's arms up to me, I'd tug on the daggers, keeping it suppressed under the pain. But seeing that it wasn't dying, I pulled one of my daggers free before I began to cut at it's throat. The Valerian blade made easy work of it's skin and throat, but it's bone was another thing.

By this point, the Troll had gone passed pain and was in pure agony. But that agony led to it's survival instincts kicking in and I felt a stubby hand grab onto me before flinging me through the air.

Maneuvering myself mid-air, I stuck my feet into the ground, sliding to a stop. Though not before my back slammed into a tree.

But I was still smiling.

Fighting's the best.

Charging at the blind Troll, I dodged it's wild attempts at smacking me. It could still hear me, I guess. But that didn't matter. I grabbed my sword, jumped, and tore it out after cutting it's body and leaving a long, deep slash vertically up it's torso and abdomen. Though I continued climbing in height as I flew up above the Troll.

While in mid-air, looking down at the blind Troll, everything seemed to slow down. I was covered in the blood of the Troll and the image of me must have looked absolutely monstrous. Which is quite ironic for a Witcher.

When I started coming back down, I spun mid-air, building up the force of my swing and when I got within range of the Troll's head, I swung out with all my strength.

The cut was quick and the Troll went still before it's head rolled off it's body and it's body fell to the floor, blood spilling out of it's neck.

[900 Mutagen Points Earned!]

A fun fight and a sizable amount of Mutagen Points...Ahhh~ What a wonderful world.


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