After a quick mental inventory of the base's resources, Galen noted that gold reserves were adequate, and the lumber supply, though slowly accumulating thanks to the tireless efforts of the Peasant loggers, was finally sufficient to initiate the construction of the Altar of Kings.
He mentally deployed the blueprint for the Altar on the opposite side of the Town Hall, creating a symmetrical arrangement with the Barracks on the other flank. The Altar and the Barracks now stood as sentinels guarding the heart of his burgeoning settlement.
With a small surplus of lumber remaining, Galen's excitement surged. He immediately filled all twelve training slots in the Barracks: eight slots for Footmen and four for Musketeers.
The prospect of summoning a hero, as hinted in the Altar of Kings' description, filled Galen with anticipation. He desperately needed a capable commander to lead his nascent combat force and a powerful individual to serve as a stalwart guardian of the base.
Just as visions of a promising future danced in his mind, Omar's urgent voice shattered the tranquility. "Your Highness, a group of trolls has been sighted not far to the north!"
The news struck Galen like a physical blow. His combat units were still in training, the base virtually defenseless. The sudden appearance of trolls was an unwelcome and potentially disastrous development.
"What's the situation?" Galen demanded, his voice sharp with alarm. Omar halted before him, his expression grave. "One of the soldiers who went hunting with Varokal returned to report that they encountered a troll hunting party in the northern mountains, approximately twenty in number."
Twenty trolls in a hunting party. A small comfort lay in the fact that it wasn't a full-scale warband. Perhaps there was still a chance to neutralize the threat.
He swiftly gathered the few soldiers remaining in the camp. Galen and Omar, guided by the messenger, raced towards the forest where Varokal and the other hunters were concealed.
As they neared the treeline, another of Varokal's hunting companions emerged from the undergrowth, leading them deeper into the forest, closer to Varokal's position.
They found Varokal concealed in a shady spot on a small hillside, overlooking the forest's edge. Galen cautiously approached, his voice a low whisper. "What's the situation with the trolls, Val?"
"Your Highness, they are directly ahead. Twenty trolls in total. They arrived in this area about an hour ago. A small group is establishing a camp, while another is seeking water at the base of the mountain." Varokal leaned in, his quiet report conveying the urgency of the situation.
Galen edged forward, peering through the foliage in the direction Varokal indicated. About three hundred meters away, in a small clearing by the river, the trolls were a flurry of activity. Several crude tents had already been erected. Four supply carts, each pulled by two Highland horses, stood outside the makeshift camp. Several raptor mounts were tethered to wooden stakes nearby. The stocky build of the Witherbark trolls made them ill-suited for riding Highland horses; they primarily tamed raptors for transport, reserving the stronger horses for hauling supplies.
"Can you discern their purpose here?" Galen asked, his concern growing. He feared a larger troll presence in the area, increasing the risk of premature discovery of his base.
"These trolls are hunting, Your Highness, much like our own hunting parties, gathering food and hides. I observed their supplies through the gnome telescope. They have raptor cubs and freshly tanned raptor skins. This appears to be a hunting party from the Witherbark Village. It's not the prime hunting season, so they likely aren't a massive force stockpiling for winter. However, the Witherbark tribe also maintains gathering points in the Hinterlands, and they trade in leather."
While there was a possibility of other troll hunting parties in the vicinity, Galen knew that such groups typically respected territorial boundaries.
This particular group seemed surprisingly lax, neglecting to send out scouts to survey their surroundings. Otherwise, Galen and his men would have been hard-pressed to observe their camp from such close proximity.
However, with Stromgarde's abandonment of the southeastern mines, the kingdom's defensive line remained far to the north, and human caravans rarely ventured beyond the main road west of the river. Galen's own party had crossed the Sardor Bridge, leaving no obvious traces of their presence to the north. The trolls had no reason to suspect they were being watched.
This is an opportunity, Galen thought, a spark of grim determination igniting within him. They are exposed, and we have the element of surprise.
Deciding to eliminate this immediate threat, Galen turned to the experienced Varokal. "Val, what is the strength of this troll team? Can we wipe them out?"
Varokal glanced at his prince, recognizing the decisive glint in his eyes. If Galen was asking, he had likely already made up his mind.
After a moment's consideration, Varokal replied, "This group of trolls is slightly stronger than our usual caravan encounters, Your Highness. Among the twenty, there are approximately eight laborers and twelve fully equipped combatants, including a troll witch doctor."
Galen closed his eyes, mentally accessing the rudimentary map generated by the base. The distance had been too great for a detailed scan earlier, and he lacked a direct visual of the troll camp himself. He focused, carefully visualizing the clearing based on Varokal's description, mentally counting the figures. "Currently, I perceive eight troll civilians in the camp, two novice troll headhunters, two adept axe throwers, and a master witch doctor. The witch doctor is likely their leader."
Omar shot Galen a surprised look, wondering at his prince's seemingly detailed knowledge of the troll encampment, but he continued, "Your Highness, axe throwers are the front-line infantry of the Witherbark Clan, skilled with one-handed axes and capable of throwing them at range. Headhunters rely on thrown spears for ranged attacks, their close-quarters combat ability significantly weaker. If we approach their camp quietly under the cover of night and launch a surprise attack, with myself and Varokal leading the charge as advanced warriors, our chances of success are high. The only significant threat is the witch doctor. Troll voodoo magic is unpredictable and potent; we must be wary."
Galen noted Omar's puzzled expression. He has a map in his mind. Would he speak without knowing? Listening to the assessments of his two captains, a plan began to solidify. Though outnumbered, the trolls only had twelve combatants. On his side, Omar, Varokal, and himself were advanced warriors, and the five guards were all adept-level elites. Their overall combat prowess likely surpassed that of the troll raiding party.
"Then we will wait until nightfall to launch a surprise attack and seize their camp. When the time comes, I will deal with the witch doctor, and the two of you will lead the five guards to neutralize the other trolls."
"No, Your Highness!" Omar and Varokal immediately protested in unison. Omar stepped forward, his voice firm. "The aura emanating from that witch doctor suggests considerable power. As a spellcasting profession among the trolls, their abilities are diverse, dangerous, and often bewildering. Your Highness has no experience fighting trolls. It would be far wiser for me to engage the witch doctor. You and Varokal should eliminate the other trolls swiftly and then come to my aid."
"Very well," Galen conceded. "You will engage the witch doctor, and Varokal and I will deal with the rest of their forces as quickly as possible."
A flicker of curiosity about the witch doctor profession sparked within Galen. He had heard tales of their ability to command elemental forces and wield potent voodoo magic for both offense and healing. A part of him wanted to witness their abilities firsthand.
However, he would not allow curiosity to outweigh caution. Impulsivity was ill-advised. He would heed the wisdom of his experienced captains. Omar was the strongest among them, making him the logical choice to confront the troll witch doctor.
The group finalized their plan to strike under the cover of darkness, maximizing the element of surprise. With their strategy in place, they began to rest and prepare for the night's impending action.