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“´Ello.”

The merchant gulped.

“Balthazar, stay very still,” whispered Rye, from several paces behind.

“Why? You think its vision is based on movement?” muttered the crab sarcastically.

“No, but I don’t want to accidentally hit you with an arrow,” the archer said, as Balthazar heard the quiet sound of a bowstring being pulled.

“Pass?” said the troll.

“Wait, Rye!” said the crab. “I think it’s trying to communicate.”

“Oh, sure, let’s chat with a troll, I’m sure that will go well.”

“Yes, big guy,” Balthazar said to the creature. “We would like to pass your bridge.”

The troll extended a big and calloused hand, the skin on its palm looking like the gray bark of a dead tree.

“Coin?”

“You… you want coin?” the crab repeated, keeping a couple of legs back.

The bridge’s guardian nodded, pushing his open palm closer to the merchant.

“Urgh… fine then,” Balthazar hesitantly said, while reaching into his coin purse.

It wasn’t his preferred choice of action, but trying to dialogue with the creature did not seem like much of an option, and not even his mighty claws were big enough to wrap around those tree trunk ankles.

Pinching a single gold coin from his bag, the crab carefully and begrudgingly placed it on the troll’s open hand.

The bridge guard brought its palm closer to its face, its bulbous nose nearly touching the tiny coin as the creature examined it.

“No,” grunted the troll, while shaking its head.

“No?” repeated the merchant.

“I don’t think that’s enough to cover the troll’s toll, Balthazar,” the adventurer said, from the bottom of the mound leading up to the bridge.

“Yeah, thanks, Rye. I think I got that on my own.”

The troll took a moment to slowly count up with its own fingers, before turning to the crab again.

“Ten,” the monster’s guttural voice uttered, while holding up both hands to show all of its fingers.

“You want ten coins?” said the apprehensive crustacean.

Once again, the troll shook its head. “No.”

Balthazar’s eyestalks frowned in confusion.

“Ten ten,” the creature said, while flexing its ten fingers closed and then open again.

“Wait, you want a hundred gold coins to let us pass?!” exclaimed the indignant crab.

The troll’s disturbing smile, which resembled a beaten up handsaw blade, appeared again as it nodded affirmatively.

“I told you we should have gone downstream,” Balthazar muttered back at the archer.

“No pay?” the moss-covered monster said with a frown.

“A hundred crowns to cross a bridge? No way! That\'s a ridiculous price,” said the crab. “Just let us through, and I’ll toss a fried fish filet and a squeeze bottle of skin lotion your way. How’s that, big guy?”

The creature’s frown deepened as it shoved an open palm in front of the merchant again. “Coin!”

“No! I’m not giving you 100 coins just to walk over an old, crumbling stone bridge,” the annoyed crustacean exclaimed.

The troll retreated its hand back, the frown turning into a full scowl. The club which had been resting on the creature’s shoulder was now held at the ready.

“No coin, no bridge.”

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Swinging its massive arm back, the creature prepared to sweep the crab off the overpass when a small arrow pierced into its shoulder.

“Argh!” exclaimed the monster, as it snapped the shaft of the projectile lodged into its shoulder in half and focused its gaze on Rye.

“Hurry!” yelled the archer, as the crab skittered towards his traveling companions.

“We need to get across!” said Balthazar, as the troll began charging towards them.

“Well, that guy might have an issue with that!”

The heavy stomps of the troll made the ground shake as it prepared to strike at them with the crude club, but Rye made the creature stagger back by shooting it with two quick arrows to the chest.

Druma and Balthazar ran out of harm’s way and towards the tree line, while Blue took flight, placing herself above the club’s reach. Meanwhile, Rye stayed quick on his feet and continued pelting the creature with arrows from a safe distance.

I gotta do something!

His mind racing, Balthazar turned to the goblin.

“Druma, I need you to shoot the troll with your magic bolts to distract it from Rye. Can you do that?”

The loyal assistant and his floppy wizard hat nodded vigorously up and down. “Yes, yes, boss!”

“Blue!” the crab called up.

The drake, hovering over the scene, turned its golden gaze to the crab.

“Unless we wanna tell Madeleine we let her boyfriend be turned into a pancake, we have to help Rye,” he shouted. “When Druma strikes, take the opportunity and barbecue that troll!”

The winged creature did not respond with words, but Balthazar could tell she was onboard.

With a massive swing, the troll missed the adventurer, but kicked up a cloud of dust which forced him to tumble and roll out of the way, leaving the boy on the ground and open for a second strike.

A sudden stream of green glowing bolts hit the creature’s rough hide on its back, causing it to turn its angry scowl towards the origin of the attack.

Standing on a rock by the side of the road was a small goblin, holding his hat with one hand and a magical staff with the other.

The troll took a step towards its new source of anger, but before it could take a second one, a bright blue jet of flames assaulted it from above, forcing the monster to shield its head with an arm as the fire from the drake’s mouth poured over its skin.

“Yes!” celebrated the crab, but too soon.

As Blue’s fire breath stopped, they all watched as the troll slowly stood back up. The arrows sticking out of its body fell to the ground as the creature’s skin healed, closing the wounds. The place where Druma’s magic bolts had hit was unharmed, and even the arm that took the brunt of the drake’s attack showed no signs of burns.

“No…” said the crab.

It was as if all of their efforts had been for nothing, as the creature quickly recovered in front of their eyes.

Damn it, I should have remembered those bestiaries I read.

“What just happened?!” asked Rye as he ran to the crab along with his two companions, regrouping behind a boulder while the troll recovered by the bridge entrance.

“Trolls have rapid regeneration from physical wounds,” Balthazar explained, “and are practically immune to magic. I knew that, but completely forgot about it in the heat of the moment.”

“Well, great, now we have a pissed off troll coming for us,” the adventurer said, peeking over the rock. “Any suggestions?”

The crab tapped on the top of his shell with the back of his claw.

Think, Balthazar, think! What can—Wait, my Imbuing skill!

Without a word, he ran to a nearby tree, using his pincers to pull a large piece of its bark off the trunk.

“What are you doing, Balthazar?” exclaimed the archer. “We’re fighting for our survival, and you decide to go play with trees?!”

Ignoring the young man, the crab held the fresh piece of oak wood between his pincers and focused on his system.

[Imbuing failed. Incompatible material]

Damn it! It doesn’t work with every wood type.

He ran back to the boulder, but over by the bridge, the troll had already fully regenerated, and had resumed looking for his targets.

Come on, come on! Think! There has to be something I can do. Use your smarts, Balthazar!

Sticking his eyestalks from behind the rock, the crab watched the creature scanning his surroundings for the group.

Magical attacks are out, leaving only physical damage. It would be too risky for Blue to get close with her claws, and I’m way too slow. That just leaves Rye’s arrows. Now if only we could coordinate some kind of distraction and—

His eyes widened.

That’s right, I have another skill now!

With a few flicks of his eyes, the crustacean activated the skill.

[Leader’s Voice]

[For 2 minutes, you and up to three of your allies receive +1 to all attributes, and all actions performed as a team receive a success bonus.]

“Alright, guys, listen up,” Balthazar said hurriedly. “I’ve got a plan, but you will have to do what I say.”

The human, goblin, and drake all scooted closer behind the rock, listening to the crab’s instructions.

Standing on the bridge, the troll turned back and forth, big club in hand, still looking for any signs of the trespassers.

“Hey, big fella!” yelled Balthazar, standing on the path leading up to the bridge. “Wanna buy a toothbrush?”

The creature’s beady eyes widened at the sight of the crab, and it started charging at him with its weapon held high.

While the crab skittered away, the sound of something breaking behind the troll made it stop to look back.

Bolts of arcane magic shot by Druma from the shore were hitting the side of the old bridge, knocking loose cobblestones off its side and into the water.

“Nooo!” cried the monster, running back and dropping its club as it tried to catch the pieces falling off the bridge.

“Do it, Blue!” Balthazar shouted.

Diving from the clouds, the drake homed in on the surprised troll, who turned its face up as the winged menace rained blue fire on it.

The bridge guardian covered itself from the heat with both arms as it ducked down.

“It’s not looking this way, now’s your chance. Get close, Rye!” Balthazar shouted.

The shower of flames ceased, and the troll raised its head from between its arms, just in time to see a human archer sliding across the cobblestone floor of the bridge, bow drawn and charged, ready to shoot.

The creature’s eyes bulged at the realization of where the adventurer was aiming.

“Don’t blink,” Rye said, as he let the arrow loose.