03 The Druid Queen by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Realms, Forgotten]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T12:09:00.485000+00:00

"What about the plan? We win the fight-then we get a boat!" snarled Baatlrap, confronting Thurgol on the dock-side of Codscove. The huge troll's thin lips were drawn back, revealing his jagged fangs, while he held his massive and knobby fists planted firmly on his hips. The firbolg chieftain and his twelve kinsman had, with great difficulty, pulled the Princess of Moonshae to wharfside. Thurgol clambered out of the rocking ship and bumped into the troll, knocking Baatlrap backward a step. "The boat came to shore!" barked the firbolg. He was too delighted with his prize to pay more than mild attention to the hulking troll. "We took it!" The pair stood amid the throng of huge, boisterous humanoids on the waterfront of Codscove. Wounded trolls, as they healed, limped across the trampled commons to join them. The remnants of the human defenders, recognizing their cause as lost, had fled the field several minutes before. For the time being, even the trolls were too tired to pursue. Nearby the ruins of the shantytown still smoldered, while the gruff, profane sounds of firbolg revelry continued to rock the stone-walled warehouse. "Humans all fled, the cowards!" gloated the troll. "We trolls routed them!" "Good fight," Thurgol agreed easily. He turned to watch his impromptu crew members grappling with ropes and thwarts, trying to secure the ship to the dock. "Stay there. Hold the ropes!" he commanded finally. "Leave ship here," Baatlrap said, drawing Thurgol's suspicious attention. "Whole army go after the humans. Kill all of them!" The troll's eyes drifted casually over to Garisa, who stood at the waterfront with the Silverhaft Axe at her side. The old hag scowled back, unintimidated. The firbolg chieftain blinked in surprise, studying the recalcitrant troll. Then he scowled, drawing his heavy brows down over his craggy face in an expression that was very menacing indeed. "We've got the ship. Now we sail to Icepeak!" He pointed across the Strait of Oman, currently too hazy for the far shoreline to be seen. Nevertheless, his firm intent was unmistakable. "No," declared Baatlrap, stepping closer to the firbolg chieftain. "You follow me now." Thurgol glared at his co-commander in growing fury. "You saw the sign of the gods!" he barked. "We have the Silverhaft Axe. Now it's time to take it to Icepeak!" Baatlrap looked at the ship, skepticism rank on his grotesque face. "Humans flee that way," he said, pointing to the east along the shore. "We should give chase now-catch them and kill them!" The firbolg chieftain showed no fear of his gangly, powerfully muscled rival. Yet as he remembered the size of the ship, he knew he couldn't squeeze more than his own tribe into the hull. There would be no room for the trolls. And given their utter lack of nautical skill, he suspected that multiple crossings of the surprisingly wide strait would be out of question. "I take the ship and my warriors," Thurgol said after a moment's thought. "You trolls, and any giant-kin what don't come along, you can chase the humans.

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