Chapter 23

POV: Bolt the Bull Carrier

Bolt try always be good troll. Bolt make promise to Bossyman lots of time ago. Bolt not best at it always, but trying its best. Bolt think Bolt bad since Bolt kill bull, but Bolt was just sad not bad. Bolt still gots lots of importance works to do at farm for Bossyman, little bossies, and bull's brothers and sisters.

Witchyman remind Bolt this, this make Witchyman good and friend. Bolt like friends.

Bossyman worried when Bolt say he smell bad humies close to Witcheyman, wants to go back to farm where safe. But Bolt say how Bolt is "honored" to protect Witcheyman for helping Bolt. Bossyman just smile and nod head, saying to Bolt to come home later and "smash 'em good for me."

So Bolt throw big barrel at bad humies and smash one, for Bossyman, but now Bolt smash for Bolt and Witcheyman!

Bolt smashes wheel table to side hard, Bolt would have tried to move more gently before but was in hurry to smash and it was in way. He run up and grab one bad humie by leg before swinging him around to smash into other humie hard. They scream and yell but Bolt more focused on smashing.

"Ow! No poke Bolt with pointed stick!" Bolt yells while grabbing stick humie poked into his side, before wacking him back. It hurt but not so bad so Bolt only give small smack so humie fall down.

"Gods be damned, someone get the firebombs and hammers! We can't kill this thing with just swords and spears!" one of the humies yelled and Bolt snarled a bit. Bolt no like fire on him, fire only good when making stew.

Bolt saw some bigger humies come at him with bigger hammers that hit Bolt hard. Bolt tough but that hurt more than pointed sticks, so Bolt no like!

Bolt threw out a fist that knocked one of hammer humies away, but other one hit Bolt's arm! Bolt punch him too! Humies all around him and hitting Bolt.

Bolt tough but Bolt no like being hit and it starting to hurt more.

Then few humies get cut and Witcheyman was here!

"Bolt come to smash humies and help Witcheyman!" Bolt said with a smile as he smacked away another humie.

"Great! Glad to have you Bolt!" Witcheyman said as he held out hand and then fire happened! It cover humie who scream and yell while running off covered in fire. That why Bolt no like fire on him, only on stew and meat. Humies should know this too. "Bolt! Can you curl up into a ball for me?! It will help smash more of them at once!" Witcheyman said.

"Bolt curl and smash? Bolt become ball!" Bolt agree and bend over and tuck his body into himself. Bolt not see anything but ground but could hear and feel humies hit back, it didn't hurt as much but Bolt couldn't smash neither. Bolt wasn't sure how this would help smashing humies… oh, there is neat rock on ground.

"Hang on Bolt! This might hurt a little!" Witcheyman say and before Bolt can say back Bolt hear loud whoosh sound and was rolling! Bolt become ball in truth! Bolt get real dizzy but at same time hear and feel lots of wet meaty sounds like how he punch bad humies, then Bolt hit and break through something hard with loud crunch!

Bolt roll for little bit more before hit something else and stop. Bolt unroll and find world upside down now and Bolt see broken tree next to him and gate with big troll shaped hole in it. Troll gonna be in trouble for doing that!

But Bolt realize something else that day, he learned that roll-smashing fun!

---

POV: Ivar the Monster Scholar

Ivar was quite glad that Markus, Ser Roland, and now Bolt were drawing the vast majority of the mercenaries attention on them since, while he was no coward, Ivar could admit that since he was unarmored and armed only with a sling he was the weakest link in the party other than Dogmeat, who still was barking very much at the enemies around them.

Even now he could see Ser Roland in the thick of the fighting, his years of experience fighting in heavy armor and his sword and shield making it so the brigands were having poor luck getting past his defenses while he exploited their weaknesses ruthlessly. Markus meanwhile was much more mobile, prefering to avoid being hit and then striking quickly while using his magic to augment his attacks and defenses. Ivar had never seen so many men be set aflame, thrown through the air, reduced to near standstill, or even seemingly caught in a daze before his blade ended their lives. It was quite humbling seeing obvious warriors go up against such numbers and hold their own so well.

Bolt was a force of nature all his own! Troll constitution and strength forcing the enemy to gang up upon him and work hard to avoid his blows that could snap them apart at ease!

"Gods be damned, someone get the firebombs and hammers! We can't kill this thing with just swords and spears!" one of mercenaries screamed and Ivar's mind suddenly rushed. These mercs were not as foolish as they seemed, they knew that fire could get past and even slow a troll's endurance. That could not do at all!

"Markus, I do believe our large friend could do with assistance!" Ivar yelled to his comrade as he scanned around them and- there! Ivar wasted no time letting lose a lead shot at a mercenary raising a lit firebomb, looking like some crude device that was nothing more than a wine bottle with a rag in it, and much to his own surprise hit it dead on. He watched as the contents fell all over the mercenary and those unfortunate enough to be close by before they went up in flames as well, running around in pain and fear looking for some way to douse the flames.

Markus couldn't help but feel a little green around the gills for that, no man deserved being burned alive after all.

"On it! You stay alive and back up Roland!" Markus said as he quickly dashed off to assist Bolt.

Ivar only responded by letting lose another lead shot into the back of the knee of a mercenary seeking to strike Ser Roland from behind, dropping in pain as his leg was now bending in the wrong direction. Ivar repeated this as many times as he could, attempting to aim for heads and unarmored parts of foe when he could though body shots were somewhat hampered by their armor even if it did harm them and give them pause. Ivar was so caught up in his task he didn't notice the danger till Dogmeat alerted him to it.

"Ahh! Gods dammit! Get off me you mutt! Ahhh!" Ivar turned quickly to see a mercenary wielding a crossbow several paces from him try to shake off a very determined Dogmeat who was chewing quite thoroughly at his ankle. If Ivar's guess was wrong Dogmeat must have prevented the man from shooting either him or someone else in the back, good dog!

Before the man could do anything to hurt the brave pup Ivar was quick to aim a shot right at the man's shoulder, no doubt breaking it even through his leather armor, which sent him crashing to the ground with a yell. Dogmeat was still gripping onto his ankle so he was not likely to anywhere any time soon.

As Ivar was loading another shot however he was surprised once more when a mercenary with a sword charged right at him, and acting quickly Ivar used his sling in a manner which most did not expect a man to use it in. Namely as a flail with a bit more range that dropped the man like a sack when Ivar hit him square in the jaw, and most likely breaking it.

Battle was so fast and stressful! And unlike when studying monsters Ivar took no joy in this constant fear for his life. He most certainly pledged to avoid fights with people whenever he could since his heart couldn't take it, and because if he should die who would carry on his work!

---

POV: Ser Roland the Gallant

To fear God and maintain His Church.

Roland ducked a mercenary's wild swing with a warhammer, only to pop up and remove his arm with an upward slash of his blade. These blasphemous heathens! How dare they raise their hands against one who has served the Order of the Flaming Rose so well and so long!

To serve the liege lord in valor and faith.

The rock troll groaned as it wobbled to its feet, clearly dizzy after being hurled like a ball in a game of ninepins. Roland barely spared it a glance, focused as he was on the horde of foes before him. A cautious stab was deflected with his kite shield; for a moment, Roland could almost imagine the features of foes of old. Straight blades and warhammers turned to curved sabers, pale and beardless faces seemed dusky and bearded. It was like a memory, but not quite. Not the first time this had happened to him, but Roland had learned to ignore it when it happened and focus on the matter at hand.

To protect the weak and the defenseless.

The Witcher was hardly weak - even as he thought it, several mercenaries screamed as they flew over his head, tossed aside by an errant gesture from the cat-eyed man - but it was an affront to his honor to see a good man like Markus murdered for the 'crime' of sparing the life of another being, and granting peace to another. His thoughts were interrupted however when there was a sudden great pain in the back of his left shoulder, bypassing his armor, and as he turned he saw one of the crossbowmen holding an emptied weapon and wearing a smirk.

Never to turn the back on a foe.

Despite the pain Roland simply gritted his teeth and hardened his grip on his shield, the bolt in his shoulder might make using it harder now but he could not lose it. Adjusting his hold on his sword, he raised the reforged Durandal and plunged into the fray. Dying once had been...unpleasant. He'd rather not go through the experience again.

Slipping up to the Witcher's flank, Markus spared him a glance. Golden eyes widened as they took in his injury; even so, with superhuman grace and speed, the mutant easily hopped alongside to guard Roland's back. Their defenses secured, the two warriors resumed the battle.

Roland was glad to see that what had begun as a one-sided affair had become much more fair in the short time battle was joined. He could clearly see how most of the mercenaries were either dead or nursing such serious injuries they were no threat at all. Once what was over two dozen knaves had become half of that, and the number was swiftly falling as the brigands were losing their numerical advantage.

Only the weak and cowardly relied upon numbers to see them through battle, and their foes were quickly learning that lesson quite well.

To eschew unfairness, meanness, and deceit.

He'd sworn many oaths as a knight - once for his liege Charlemagne, and once again with the Flaming Rose. Despite the different settings, his responsibilities remained the same. It was a comforting thought that no matter how much things changed, some truths were never altered. Truth was truth, justice was justice, and honor was honor, no matter when and where you were. In this case, all were enforced at the point of a blade.

Fortunately for him, that was one skill of which he'd never had a shortage.

---

POV: Markus, the Golden Griffin and man terribly out of his comfort zone

Holy hell this was intense!

Everything about this fight had things I hated! I was under informed, under prepared, outnumbered, in a bad position, and the enemy was all there for me! I actively worked to avoid these kinds of situations and use diplomacy when I could since I did not like not being in control of violent situations since one slip could see me dead! If it wasn't for my Quen and Witcher skills I am sure I would be already!

Unlike Roland, who trained from youth to fight using armor, I focused on dodging and parrying strikes rather than actively hitting people while using my Signs to do lots of the work for me. Aard to toss people around hard, Igni to burn them, Yrden to slow them down, Quen to protect and explode in faces when it did go down, Axii to mess with their heads, Gal to get the jump on people by appearing elsewhere, and even some of my underused Veoth to give some killer headaches. If I were a better swordsman I'm sure I could fight that way, but I was more like a wizard who knew how to swing a sword without hitting myself so I stuck to what I was good at.

Didn't mean that using Signs so much didn't tire me out and made me hate the fact I didn't have a good time to down some Tawny Oil, or any potion really.

I worked hard to be clever like using Bolt as a big wrecking ball and making sure Ivar was not the main focus, but now I was stuck in place watching Roland's back since he had a freaking bolt sticking out of it now!

Sure we were winning but I wanted to end this now before anyone else got hurt or possibly died.

A quick look around showed me what mercs were still fighting us were being much more cautious now and their boss was looking pretty regretful at attacking but still standing his ground. It was time to break him and end this.

"Hunker down! I'm cutting the head off this snake!" I alerted Roland and before he could respond I Signed out Gal and found space bending around me briefly so I was right up in the not so smug now bastard's face. Credit where credit was due he did put up guard and blocked my overhead strike with his own sword, his instincts and experience keeping him alive… for about a second.

What came next was me kicking his knee inwards with all my strength and watching him kneel backwards in terrible pain before I ended it with a cut through his neck. I don't play fair, sue me.

With his headless corpse decorating the street, the fight quickly left the few mercenaries still standing unscathed, or at least not injured enough to be nearly dead. Most who could turn tail the second they saw what happened, a few tried to pick up their friends and drag them off to safety. I didn't bother trying to stop them since I had my own injured companions to worry about.

"Roland! Are you- well, not alright, but you don't think you're about to die on me, do you?" I asked the knight who despite the likely very painful piece of wood and metal in his shoulder stood standing.

"It is- is certainly not pleasant, but I am no stranger to being injured in battle and thank the Eternal Fire it did not hit someplace more vital. I will have to be tended to, of course, but I do believe I am at no risk of dying just yet." Roland assured me and I just signed in relief at that.

Not only would it suck if a man as nice as him kicked the bucket but out of all of us he was only one who can explain shit and likely be listened to.

"Friends! Are you alrig- Ser Roland, are you aware that you have a bolt sticking out the back of your shoulder? It looks like it hurts." Ivar stated as he came over to us and looked at Roland's injury.

"Thanks for stating the obvious Ivar, what would we do without your powers of observation?" I couldn't help but sarcastically comment.

"Bolt was ball! Witchyman and friends good?" Bolt asked as he too as well came up to us before spotting Roland. "Metal humie has pointed stick in him! Bolt take out." Bolt tried to do just that before I stepped in.

"No! Leave it! Removing it could do more harm than good right now." I said and the troll just looked confused.

"But pointed sticks hurt. When Bolt takes out feel better. Not same for humie?"

"Technically yes… but just trust me on this one big guy."

"Bolt trust Witchyman, even if sound dumb."

"Thanks Bolt…" I grumbled.

"Ah! The guards arrive at last!" Ivar said and turned to see he was right, a group of at least eight guards were coming our way through the very broken gate. Finally, we can get this sorted out and-

"Freeze! All of you stay where you are or so help me I'll add to this body pile myself!" the lead guard said as the rest pointed their spears at all of us.

Oh come the fuck on!