BUTLER

Butler was strapping on a medieval suit of armour. Incredible as it seemed, he apparently intended to go toe to toe with the troll. Holly tried to warn him, tried to make some sound, but the magic hadn’t yet reinflated her crushed lungs.

Butler closed his visor, hefting a vicious mace.

‘Now,’ he grunted through the grille. ‘I’ll show you what happens when someone lays a hand on my sister.’

The human twirled the mace as though it were a cheerleader’s baton, ramming it home between the troll’s shoulder blades. A blow like that, while not fatal, certainly distracted the troll from its intended victim.

Butler planted his foot just above the creature’s haunches and tugged the weapon free. It relinquished its grip with a sickly sucking sound. He skipped backwards, settling into a defensive stance. The troll rounded on him, all ten talons sliding out to their full extent. Drops of venom glistened from the tip of each tusk. Play time was over.