Winter. Unruled Lands.
"Who's got my boots?" quietly asks Golmard the teenage recruit, who then adds "My feet are freezing".
As Furnid hands Golmard back his boots and socks.
Maselle the teenage recruit quietly asks "You didn't kill him, did you?" followed by "He looks dead".
"He's just knocked out" replies Hamblin the teenage recruit, who along with Golmard has just made it back to the otherside of the rise, after going down to the warcamp about a mile away.
"Golmard just punched him in the jaw" adds the teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
"You could of fooled me" quietly says Maselle, who follows that with "He still looks dead to me".
"He's alive" quietly says Jinsa who is kneeling down next to the man that Golmard carried back from the makeshift village.
"Though his jaw could be broken, so who knows if he can talk" quietly adds Jinsa, who is by far the best archer in the group.
"Oh he will fucken talks alright" says Dorc da Orc who makes his way forward to stand over the unconscious man that Golmard and Hamblin brought back from the warcamp about a mile away to the south of their position.
"Dorc will fucken make him" adds the large ork who draws from his belt, a rather wicked looking curved dagger.
That slightly glints when the blade catches the moonlight from two of the moons that are now up in the night sky.
"Not here" quietly and firmly says Hamblin "We're too close" adds the teenager from the farming village of Polsten, which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Hamblin turns when sir Percavellé Lé Dic after looking at the unconscious man on the ground, looks away to the south and says "I do say, what's happening yonder in that camp of theirs?" followed by a belated "Wot".
"A distraction" is the answer from Hamblin as fire has broken out in the middle of the warcamp.
Which can clearly be seen from a mile away tonight. From their vantage point upon the rise to the north of the makeshift village built by raiders.
"Let's move" adds Hamblin, who though only thirteen, is the unofficial leader of the first of four groups of Farqian army recruits, who have been living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale this winter.
Until coming out to the coast, to finish their training.
The first group who are on patrol, here in the unruled lands to the north of the border of their lord's lands.
Along with two of their instructors this winter. The ork general, Dorc da Orc and the foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic. Move away, heading to the northeast, leaving behind the rise and the warcamp.
Hamblin, who is from a farming family in the village of Polsten.
Has the ork warleader carry the unconscious raider. Carrying the man with ease. With one hand, by the belt around the man's waist.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, carries the raider as if he's a sack.
Dorc da Orc walks near the front with Hamblin, as the group head into the night. That's colder than it has been, especially here north of the border, and about twenty miles from the coast.
The young teenager from the northwest of the lands Farque, who is the unofficial leader of the first group.
Has Jinsa go out infront and scout. Telling her what to look for.
Hamblin earlier in the day, saw what it is. And he hopes to get there fairly quickly. As it's only a little over a mile further to the northeast of the rise they spent most of the day up.
The group of Farqian teenagers, who are army recruits. Along with two of their instructors over the wintertime.
Alternate between jogging and walking quickly. And they're soon amongst a small clot of trees.
The place Hamblin picked for them to take shelter in once he and Golmard captured someone from the raiders warcamp.
"Well spend the night here" quietly says Hamblin once they're amongst the trees.
"A cold camp" adds the teenage army recruit from the farming village of Polsten.
Then as the teenage army recruits of the first group quickly set up their camp for the night.
Hamblin hands the maps and other missives he took from a tent in the warcamp, to Maselle.
Then nods for the ork warleader to follow him and Maselle with the unconscious man.
The large ork does so, and after a moment, sir Percavellé Lé Dic follows them too.
As the rest of the group set up camp for the night amongst the trees.
Stopping near the far side of the clot of trees, Hamblin squats down and quietly says to Maselle who crouches down beside him "Let's see what we've got".
And as the ork general drops the unconscious man on the ground, close by.
Maselle takes out a small lamp, what's referred to as a burglars lamp, from here pack.
She lights it with her flint and striker. And after closing the shutters all around the small lamp.
She slowly opens up one side, allowing a little light to escape from it.
Enough of it to see the maps and missives that Hamblin took from the warcamp.
"Hmmmmm" murmurs sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who continues with "Think it be their plans and suchlike?". As he crouches down beside the two teenage army recruits.
"Could be sir" says Hamblin to the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
While the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Has one eye on what they're doing, and the other on the unconscious raider that Hamblin and Golmard brought back from the makeshift village.
"Here's the other villages and settlements nearby" quietly says Maselle in the elven language, who continues in that language with "I'd say the crossed ones are those that they've already attacked".
She points at the town on the coast that the raiders have already attacked. Which has been crossed off on one of the maps.
Hamblin, the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits nods in agreement.
Then starts reading some of the missives he took from the tent, that he and Golmard took the unconscious man from.
The teenager from the northwestern Farqian village of Polsten. Sees that a lot of them are orders.
Detailing where to send the airship the raiders are using to attack the towns, villages and settlements. Here in the unruled lands to the north of the border.
"They've gone off to attack this village all the way out here" quietly says Hamblin referring to the twin masted airship, as he points at one of the villages. Nearly a hundred miles away to the east, that's yet to be crossed off on one of the maps.
"If they're successful they'll be back late tomorrow i guess" adds the teenager from the farming village of Polsten.
Who then looks at the unconscious man lying nearby, face down on the ground.
Then switching to the common language, Hamblin quietly says "Would be best if we gagged him first" as he gestures at the raider he and Golmard abducted from the warcamp about two miles away.
Dorc da Orc grunts, then says "Good fucken idea" the large ork then adds "Me hates it when they fucken scream and yell, and shit".
Maselle is the one who ends up gagging the unconscious man. Using a spare cloth she has in her pack.
While the ork warleader was going to stuff the corner of one his burlap sacks in the raider's mouth.
And his bitter rival, the former paladin who is a member of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Was going to use the edge of his pack to gag the unconscious man that Golmard knocked out with a punch to the jaw.
"Now, how are we going to wake him up?" asks Maselle as she looks at the raider, who is well and truly out of it. Who doesn't look like he's going to wake up anytime soon.
The teenage girl slaps the unconscious raider across the face a couple of times.
And though Maselle is sure the man's jaw isn't broken, he doesn't wake up from the slaps to his face.
"Fucken leave that to general Dorc" says the ork weaponsmith with a perverse, not to mention, diabolical sounding chuckle as he eyes the unconscious figure lying face down on the ground at his feet.
The two teenagers Hamblin and Maselle quickly get up and back away. Maselle makes sure to grab her burglars lamp as she does so.
Because the ork general drops his pants and stands over the unconscious raider.
"Beast" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic in disgust as the large ork starts urinating over the man who was abducted from the warcamp by Hamblin and Golmard.
Both of the teens grimace and look away as the warleader of the ork race. Being an ork, they tend to spray urine all over the place when they relieve themselves.
The ork weaponsmith's pee is also slightly green in colour too. Which would be something totally wrong in anyone else. But for an ork, that's a healthy shade of urine. And like all ork pee. It absolutely stinks.
Both Hamblin and Maselle cover their noses with a hand as they back further away.
While sir Percavellé Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Slams shut the faceplate of his full helm. And does his best not to gag, as he's downwind from the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Who is busy pissing on the unconscious raider.
The ork, who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
Is chuckling as he urinates, making sure he absolutely drenches the unconscious man.
The raider starts groaning when the the large ork finally stops spraying piss everywhere.
Then he wakes with a start, and as he goes to sit up. He gets a whiff of himself, and promptly spews up.
Vomit comes out around part of the cloth that gags him. And just as much comes shooting out of his nose.
"See" says Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name "Me wakes the cunt up" adds the ork warleader with a chuckle.
As the ork general in the armies of Farque pulls his pants up. Hamblin gingerly steps forward. And looks at the man, who is on his side. Thoroughly soaked in ork piss. And groaning in misery at the situation he finds himself in.
The raider goes to take the gag out of his mouth. But his right arm is grabbed by general Dorc, who growls at him.
Even though it's nighttime. With two of the moons of Volunell already in the night sky.
The raider from the warcamp can see around him fairly clearly. Though his eyes sting from the smell of ork piss that's drenched him through.
The man from the makeshift village about two miles away goes completely still as he sees who. Or that should be, what is holding him by the arm.
He might not of seen an ork before. But he's definitely heard of them. And by all the descriptions he's ever heard of them.
Then who it is that's holding his right arm in a tight grip. Is definitely an ork, and a large one at that.
The raider abducted from the nearby warcamp. Looks around in a panic. And spots the two teenagers from the lands Farque. And the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
Still covering his face as he moves back closer to where general Dorc is squatting next to the raider, who he has a tight hold of.
Hamblin the teenage army recruit quietly says to their captive "You will answer our questions".
The teen from the farming village of Polsten in northwestern Farque continues with "If you don't" followed by "He'll start inflicting a world full of hurt upon you" as he gestures at general Dorc.
The ork warleader who still has his sharp, wicked looking curved dagger in his other hand.
Shows it to the raider from the nearby warcamp. And starts making jabbing motions with it at the raider, as he says "Stabby, stabby".
Which causes the already petrified captive to turn even more paler than he already is.
And for both Hamblin and Maselle to roll their eyes. And for Percy to sourly smile, and say in a tone of voice that matches his smile "How drool beast" followed by a "Wot".
As the large ork continues to make stabbing motions with the wicked looking curved dagger.
All the while chortling as the captive raider tries to plead for help through the vomit and gag in his mouth as he looks at the teenage Farqians. And the former earl of Lé Dic. Which is Percy's family's fief in eastern Druvic.
"So you'll answer our questions?" quietly asks Hamblin as he looks at the raider he and Golmard took from the nearby warcamp. The man vigorously nods his head that he will.
Then he cowers after the large ork lightly cuffs him across the back of the head.
And says to the captured raider "Ya fucken better cunt" followed in an angry hiss with "If not, me will fucken start cutting off pieces of you, and starts eating them in fucken fronts of you".
Though the raider groans in despair, he vigorously nods his head up and down again.
As he definitely doesn't want to be eaten alive infront of his own eyes. By the wild, feral looking large ork. Who has a totally demented look in his eyes as he carefully watches the raider taken from the nearby warcamp.
"If you fucken shouts and screams for help cunt" says the ork weaponsmith "Me will cuts off your hands first" adds the warleader of the ork race.
Dorkindle takes the gag out of the raider's mouth when Hamblin nods for him to do so.
Then the teenage army recruit from the northwest of the lands Farque starts questioning the captured raider.
As Hamblin asks question after question. And the raider answers. Maselle the teenage recruit, general Dorc, and the former earl of Lé Dic.
Closely watch the man who was taken captive by Hamblin and Golmard early in the evening.
"He fucken lying" says the large ork after the raider answers one of Hamblin's questions.
Maselle doesn't know if the man lied there or not, but she nods in agreement with the ork weaponsmith, and says "Yeah he lied".
While a positive sounding grunt comes from behind the faceplate of sir Percavellé Lé Dic's full helm.
The ork general who only said that to see what kind of reaction he would get from the raider.
Chuckles as the man, in his mid twenties, not tall, but slightly stocky, almost muscular. Vehemently denies that he just lied to them.
"The truth now" says Hamblin to the raider, followed by "If not, off goes one of your hands".
The teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits. Doesn't particularly want to torture the raider he and Golmard took captive.
But he can see that general Dorc is basically chomping at the bit to cut the raider to pieces.
And he'll have a hard time trying to stop the large ork from doing so if the raider is found out to be lying.
"Now" says Hamblin who continues with "Are there any plans to go south into the lands that way?".
"I don't know" quickly says the raider who is more than a little panicked as he looks at Dorc da Orc, who still holds home by the right arm. And has his wicked looking curved dagger in his free hand. Which he's itching to use.
"Some of us are all for it, while others are against it" says the raider in a nervous voice, as he sits there covered in his own vomit, stinking of ork piss. Trembling in fright as he's held in the grasp of the warleader of the ork race.
"There's been talk of attacking the towns across that border" says the raider who quickly follows that with "But some have argued we need more men to do so".
"But you have talked about it?" asks Hamblin, the captured raider nods his head yes for an answer.
"They've probably made plans to do so, he just might not know of them" quietly says Maselle in the elven language.
"I agree" says Hamblin in the same language, who follows that with "From what i saw in that camp, they'll have to keep doing these raids as much as possible to keep some semblance of control of them".
The son of farmers from the village of Polsten then adds "Discipline is pretty much non existent amongst them, then need to keep them occupied to keep them from killing one another".
Maselle nods, then Hamblin switches back to the common language, and the thirteen year old who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits, says to the raider "Now, who is command of all you lot?".
Hamblin does most of the questioning, and the others occasionally chip in. And they question the captured raider late into the night.
When they get all the information they need. Or more precisely, as much as the captive knows.
They leave the raider in the hands of Dorc da Orc. While Hamblin, Maselle and Percy head back into the clot of trees to join the others in the camp they've set up.
As for the ork general in the armies of Farque. He chuckles as he gets to do what he wants for once.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world starts by ripping the raider's tongue out. Simply by grabbing it, and yanking it out.
Now that the captive is unable to make much noise. The ork warleader won't be annoyed with unnecessary screaming and yelling. Which always annoys him as he has some fun.
And this night, Dorc da Orc has a lot of fun, as he cuts apart the captive raider. With the expertise of someone who has done this numerous times in the past.
As he keeps the raider alive and more importantly conscious, while slowly, and methodically cutting him to pieces throughout the night . . . . . .
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