Three trolls had survived our assault; having a wizard around would have been of benefit. I had not thought to bring a torch; in a rare flash of humour, I wondered how Imoen would react. She would ask if 'vinegar' or 'lemons' would work; I could just picture the look on Jaheira's face. The image amused me enough that being rudely awoken didn't bother me.
The guards on watch sounded the alarm. Over the course of the night, the wind picked up; their oil-wrapped arrows did little to bleed our foes, the flames licked at them and died. The trolls howled in pain and defiance, and kept coming. Here, in their element, I understood why they were so feared. They seemed to grow with the shadows, blending with them. All we could make out was dark, slithering shapes. Their reputation for eating the slain shook some of the guards so badly their shots flew wildly off kilter.
Ignoring the raised drawbridge, the trolls went straight for the walls. The keep had a ditch instead of a moat, and they clambered up the stones as if born to it.
By the time I emerged, one troll was dead, and the others had scaled the battlements. Using a cauldron of oil, they had set the wall alight, but it did not last long. Blown out almost as soon as it begun, the three on watch had to resort to arrows, flasks and torches. Pikes were useless; spears did almost nothing. Swords meant getting close enough, and halberds up here were unwieldy at best. They began to back-pedal, as the fourth guard frantically tried to rouse the keep.
I stepped into a waking dream; the trolls were angry, afraid. Driven by fear and hate, their rage made them powerful; I grappled with one, vying for control of its mind. Rooted to the spot while we warred, I conjured the sirines' song, but like Ursa the Bear back in the Xvart Village so long ago, its fury threw off the effects. Pain flared, and I released it; never had it hurt so. Agonising, burning – my eyes fixed on the torch; it bore the outline of a troll, so bright, it seemed like a miniature sun. Its roars turned to whimpers, and finally, it fell, twitching, blackened, charred…
The guards did not question what halted the troll; they simply grateful it had. Minsc burst through the door, thundering a battle-cry, and in broad, overhead strokes, beat the remaining troll back. Just as he had nearly two years ago with the gnolls, he charged, without regard for his own safety. Surprised by this new ferocity, the troll's momentary confusion was enough.
In the flickering starlight, I caught a glimpse of orange, and realised he still had the rat. Though the troll dwarfed him at almost twice his height, the tattooed giant of a man drove his sword into the troll with a triumphant yell, and the beast toppled into the courtyard.
Awed by this display, most of the guards could only stare; one prudently threw oil over the gasping hulk as it tried to tug free the sword, whereby it was immediately it was set upon. Defying the wind, five arrows set it ablaze, several more scattering uselessly against the flagstones.
The troll's death knell was chilling; I glanced at the heaving berserker, and through his red mist, he saw me and bellowed something about 'righteousness' and 'justice'. Was he trying to be a paladin?
The guards started cheering.