The Thick Of It 42.

Winter.

A young runner makes his way across the courtyard, rushing to the main council building, after coming from the nearby barracks where he was delivered a message.
He rushes in through an open door, and hurries through the hallways here in the main building of the city-state's council.
He rounds a corner, and is almost running down a hallway, to a guarded set of doors.
The council guards recognise him, and they allow him entry. He passes through the antechamber in a rush. And makes his way into the main chamber, where a meeting is taking place.
There's council members, their assistants and military leaders, both local and foreign gathered around the large map table in the middle of the chamber.
He looks around to see who is present, and since he's in the loyalist army.
The young runner makes his way around to a senior officer, who is standing behind the leader of the loyalist army.
"Urgent message sir" quietly says the young teen, who follows that with "A trading vessel just docked and informed the airdock authorities".
The adjunctant Morris nods his head, and takes the missive from the runner, who steps back and out of the way, to wait for orders.
Meanwhile the adjunctant to commander Tracklen, unfolds the missive, and quickly reads the message.
Stepping forward, the adjunctant Morris quietly says "Commander, a message".
The senior most officer in the army loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, takes the missive from his adjunctant, and quickly reads it.
"They're definitely on the march north through the southern region" announces commander Tracklen as he interrupts the current conversation around the large map table.
"Their army has been spotted by those who are independent in the conflict" continues the loyalist army commander.
"A freighter from the otherside of the Sunreach Mountains has done a winter run, and just docked a short time ago" adds commander Tracklen, who follows that with "They spotted the rebel army in the south, making their way north".
He briefly pauses before he continues with "They collaborate the reports we got earlier from our allies".
Tracklen nods in acknowledgment to lord Farque who is standing further down the table to his right.
There's a moment's silence as people take the latest information about the enemy in.
A silence that's broken by councilman Sammis, the unofficial leader of the ruling council of Kuradum, who asks "Do they say how many?".
"As the earlier reports suggested, between fifteen and twenty thousand" is the succinct reply from commander Tracklen.
There's a number of winces, and a few grimaces from some of those around the table, at hearing that from the senior army commander.
They'd been warned about how many the enemy would bring from the south of the city-state.
And though many on the council, and their assistants were hoping it wasn't true, turns out it's infact absolutely true.
After listening to a whispered comment from his assistant Nahor, councilman Kolmar says "Maybe we should bring back some of those we sent north" followed by "We're seriously undermanned in the city now".
"No, they'll stay in the north for now" says lord Farque who until now, has been silent during the meeting.
"They're needed to withstand the siege at Gensa" adds the undead warlord.
"I agree with lord Farque, the siege of Gensa must be maintained" says commander Tracklen, who along with his adjunctant Morris.
Along with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and the others of his group who are in attendance today.
Know of the truth about the siege of Gensa, and how the enemy there have already been well and truly defeated.
And that the largest town in the north of the city-state, is now just ruins after being burnt down by the defenders.
And those that defended Gensa, including fifteen hundred or so loyalist soldiers from the Kuradum City barracks.
Are elsewhere now, waiting for new orders from the deathlord of Farque, who is in overall command of the loyalist's forces.
"We'll just have to make do with what we have here" says the large, heavily armoured deathlord who towers over everyone else standing around the table.
As Dorc da Orc is sitting in a corner of the main chamber, gnawing on a leg bone of some sort.
"Or bring reinforcements from elsewhere" continues the undead being, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin, by the people of his lands.
"From the main battlelines in the east?" asks commander Tracklen hoping to steer the conversation away from what's happening up in Gensa.
Or to be exact, what the ruling council believes is happening up in the northern town of Gensa.
"More than likely" says lord Farque, who continues with "Though we'll have to give up some of the ground we've recently taken out east".
There's a few grumbles from some of the council members and their assistants at hearing that.
As the recent victories against the enemy in the east of the city-state, along the main frontlines in the conflict.
Have been the most significant victories by loyalist forces, in what's essentially a civil war to see who rules the city-state of Kuradum.
"Either that, or you can lose your capital city" states lord Farque, who then adds "Which one do you want?".
Which instantly shuts up the grumbling from those members of the council who are upset at the prospect of losing the ground the loyalist forces have taken along the frontlines in the conflict.
After clearing his throat, councilman Sammis asks "Is there anyway we can defeat that lot coming up from the south".
"Of course" replies the undead warlord who, as part of the agreement for his army being hired by the ruling council of Kuradum.
Is to have complete control and command of their war against the rebels, who are lead by the self styled duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
"Attack them before they get to the city?" suggests councilman Kolmar after his assistant Nahor whispers something to him.
"We'll probably do some of that" replies the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who has the elven name of Des'tier. Which translates into the common language as, The Destroyer.
"But most of the fighting will be here at the city against that southern force of their's" says the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
Who doesn't elaborate on anymore about the defence of the city of Kuradum.
No matter how many council members ask him, and how many times they ask him too.
Draugadrottin glances at Helbe the elven thief and Tamric Drubine the field commander, both of whom are standing directly to his right.
The lord of the death realm gives them a few discreet hand signals. And the elven masterthief slightly nods his hooded head, then steps back, and moves away, heading to the ante chamber, and out.
While the young noble from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, takes a step to the left.
And takes the spot right next to the undead warlord that the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel has just vacated.
Throughout the rest of the meeting, both lord Farque and Tamric Drubine the field commander, don't elaborate on the defence of the city of Kuradum.
Though they do speak about tactics elsewhere throughout the city-state against the forces of the rebel councilman, Hirrye. Who sees himself as the duke of Kuradum, and it's sole ruler. Something the ruling council is dead set against.
The meeting eventually breaks up, and as people slowly drift away, Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Quietly says to commander Tracklen "You and your immediate staff come to our inn" followed by "There's things we need to discuss".
The loyalist army commander nods, then says that he will. Then he has a quiet word with his adjunctant Morris.
While lord Farque, and the group depart. Though the undead warlord has to yell at Dorc da Orc in orkish.
To get the ork warleader's attention, and to have him join the rest of them as they make their way from the chamber, then depart the main building of the council of Kuradum.
It's another cold, and windy winter's day here in the capital city of Kuradum.
And the group, minus Helbe the elven thief, along with Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, and Lisell Maera the scout.
Make their way back to the inn, that they've been staying at, while here in the city of Kuradum.
As they walk, Mira Reinholt the mage quietly says "A lot of luck is going to be needed for this to work".
"I agree" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit who is walking beside the once powerful mage.
The halfling from the far east coast of the continent, the Sultanate of Dreese to be exact.
Looks quickly ahead to where lord Farque is walking with Tamric Drubine at the front of group.
And sees that the undead warlord, who in all likelihood, overheard him and the mage Reinholt.
Is ignoring them, as he quietly speaks with the young field commander in his armies.
"Even with our army, we're still outnumbered by them" quietly says the spellcaster, who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil.
The hobbit, who is a former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese. Doesn't say anything, as lord Farque glances back at them, as up ahead he and field commander Drubine lead the group around a street corner.
The halfling who isn't what he appears to be, shares a look with the mage Reinholt. Who like him, is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The two of them remain silent as they turn onto the street the inn they've hired is on.
And they follow behind Saanea the witch and Shur Kee the monk, into the inn that the group has had to themselves since being hired by the ruling council of Kuradum.
In their war against the rebel councilman, Hirrye. Who wants to be the sole ruler of the city-state.
Helbe the elven thief, along with Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy and Lisell Maera the scout are already there waiting for them.
Now the group is just waiting for commander Tracklen and his senior staff to arrive.
As they wait in the common room of one of the better inns in the entire city, lord Farque quietly asks "Anything?".
"Just a few things" is the reply from Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who like the undead warlord, is speaking elvish.
"Our spies have found some new infiltrators" quietly says the elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae.
Where he previously served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland.
"From their army coming up from the south of course" adds Dalinvardèl Tanith, who is more commonly called Dalin by the others in the group.
Des'tier nods his full helmed head after the spy Tanith says "They're being followed at all times of course".
"Continue to do so" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who follows that with "They'll come in useful a little bit later on".
The elven spy who is a company commander in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque, nods in understating.
Then Draugadrottin looks across at Helbe the elven thief, and asks him "They paying tomorrow?".
As it's First Day tomorrow, the day the ruling council of Kuradum make their weekly payment to the armies of Farque.
"They are" replies Helbe the elven thief, who continues with "We've got nothing to worry about there, they'll keep paying us".
He briefly pauses before saying "Hell, they can keep paying us every week until the end of spring without any problems".
The elven masterthief then adds "And deep into the summer if they stretch it".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel then dryly says "They're not exactly short of funds".
The lord of the death realm, who is in command of the Kuradian ruling council's war against the rebel councilman, Hirrye.
Nods his full helmed head in understating, then the lord and ruler of the lands Farque quietly says to the entire group "They're here".
A few moments later, and a pair of black clad Farqian soldiers out the front of the inn.
Allow the loyalist army commander Tracklen, and a handful of his senior officers, including his adjunctant Morris to enter.
They make their way into the common room, and after lord Farque says in the common language "Good, you're here".
They gather around the tables in the center of the common room that have been pushed together.
After the local army officers join the group around the table, and Helbe the elven thief slightly nods his hooded head when Draugadrottin glances his way.
Lord Farque says "Right, concerning that army coming up from the south" he follows that with "And the defence of the city".
The undead warlord pauses for a moment or two, before he continues with "This is what we're going to do" . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 41.

Winter.

"They sent another five hundred or so soldiers north yesterday morning" quietly says Nahor the assistant to councilman Kolmar.
"How many does that make now?" quietly asks the spy master of the rebel councilman Hirrye, here in the capital city Kuradum.
"About fifteen hundred isn't it?" adds the spy master, a fairly nondescript looking individual in his forties.
"About that" says the assistant to councilman Kolmar, who follows that with "That's quite a few from the city garrison now".
"Good" murmurs the spy master, who continues with "They'll be occupied up north in Gensa for some time hopefully".
Nahor nods in agreement, as the plans of councilman Hirrye and his military leaders are coming to fruition.
As their diversionary tactics to the north of the capital are coming into effect, now that word has reached the city of Kuradum that the rebel forces are marching on the town of Gensa, the largest town in northern Kuradum.
Infact Nahor figures that councilman Hirrye's forces up there are probably already laying siege to Gensa.
"Any word on the south?" quietly asks the assistant to one of the more influential members of the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Nothing too much" is the quiet reply of the spy master, who then adds "Just that they're supposed to of started their advance by now".
He briefly pauses before continuing with "They definitely would've by now if they've learnt about what's happening up north".
Nahor nods in agreement with that, then just as he's about to say something, he falls silent.
As a squad of four city guardsmen walk by the table he and the spy master are sitting at.
Even though it's a cold winter's day here in the city of Kuradum. It is sunny, and the two of them are sitting outside the front of a wine shop.
Some of the other customers are too. As the wine shop has no fireplace. And outside in the sunshine is much warmer than the cold shop.
From time to time the spy master will meet his spies and informants out in public.
But this time he's doing so, as he has a sneaking suspicion that Nahor is being followed.
The spy master has lookouts posted around the vicinity of the wine shop. And that they know the locals and customers well.
And anyone out of the ordinary, will be identified and followed if they're deemed suspicious.
"Anything else of importance happening in the council?" quietly asks the spy master here in the capital, for the rebel councilman Hirrye.
"Nothing out of the ordinary" is the quiet reply of the assistant to councilman Kolmar.
The nondescript looking spy master grunts, then Nahor tells him "Just the usual" followed by "Them trying to hire more mercenaries, and purchase more supplies and weapons from beyond the borders".
"Good luck with that, they're going to need it" dryly says the spy master as he looks up and down the street the wine shop is on.
Wondering if his lookouts and spotters have found anyone of interest.
There is such a person, he's sitting on a chair, at a window, in a room on the second storey of a building.
On the same street as the wine shop, on the otherside of the street, almost directly opposite the wine shop.
That the spy master of the rebel councilman Hirrye here in the capital, and the assistant to councilman Kolmar are sitting infront of.
Helbe the elven thief yawns, then he glances down at the lookout, who is fast asleep on the floor of the room.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user, refrains from yawning again, as it was a long night.
Then he nods his hooded head when on his right shoulder, Narladene the ground pixie quietly says to him "They've fallen for it".
"Let's hope they continue to do so" quietly says Helbe the elven thief as he looks across the street, at the tables infront of the local, neighbourhood wine shop.
In particular the table that councilman Hirrye's spy master here in the capital, along with one of his informants. Nahor, the assistant to councilman Kolmar, are sitting at.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel scratches the side of his face as he thinks about the state of what's essentially a civil war here in the city-state of Kuradum.
And how the enemy spy master here in the capital, and probably councilman Hirrye too, think that their diversion in the north has been successful.
When in fact, the town of Gensa has burnt down to the ground, and with it over five thousand rebel soldiers.
And that the fifteen hundred or so loyalist soldiers, and city guardsmen from here in the capital who went north to help defend Gensa.
Along with the remaining Gensa garrison of loyalist soldiers, are now elsewhere, waiting for the main attack of the rebels which is coming from the south of the city-state.
"Find out anything useful?" quietly asks Narladene the ground pixie, who along with the elven masterthief and the rest of the group, returned to the capital city in the middle of the night.
Sometime between midnight and dawn. After the destruction of the large, walled town of Gensa. Which burnt down fairly quickly due to what was spread throughout it.
"A little bit" is the quiet reply of the highly talented elven magic user, who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
"Seems the spy master is also a criminal boss here in the city" quietly says the elven master assassin, who gestures at the sleeping lookout on the floor, and adds "That's one of his henchmen".
The naturally magical creature from the Sunreach Mountains slightly grunts, then she quietly says "That's no surprise really".
Narladene briefly pauses before she continues in a sarcastic tone of voice with "Considering he's a bookkeeper".
The grandson of the ruling prince faintly smiles, then he quietly says "Wonder if we should tell that adjunctant Morris, that his uncle's bookkeeper is Hirrye's spy master".
The elven master archer continues with "Probably should run that by lord Farque first".
"Might be best" quietly says the tiny winged creature as she looks up and out of the window, and says to the young elven noble she's attached to "I hear a wyvern approaching the city from the south".
"Loyalist one or one of the rebel's?" quietly asks the elven princeling from Laerel.
"Not sure" is the quiet reply of the ground pixie, who follows that with "I'll go and have a look".
The elven masterthief grunts, and the naturally magical creature takes off, heading out the open window, and up into the clear blue sky above the city of Kuradum.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel finds it a little annoying that both the ruling council of Kuradum.
And the self styled duke of Kuradum use wyverns and their riders as messengers and spotters in the war between their factions.
He shakes his hooded head as he waits for Narladene to return, and he goes back to watching and listening to the conversation at one of the tables infront of the wine shop across the street.
"Hopefully we should be getting word of what's happening down south" quietly says the spy master of councilman Hirrye here in the capital city.
"Either from our own sources, or from their's" adds the nondescript looking man in his forties, who is the chief spy in the city of Kuradum, for the so called duke of Kuradum, the rebel councilman Hirrye.
He's silent for a moment or two, then he quietly continues with "Once word reaches them that the bulk of our remaining forces are approaching from the south, panic will start to spread throughout the city".
Nahor, the assistant to councilman Kolmar nods his head at that. For so far in the war to control the city-state of Kuradum.
The city of Kuradum itself, has been left alone. And not been a part of the war between the ruling council, and the rebel leader Hirrye.
"Now with even less of their forces here to protect the city, it's ripe for the taking" quietly says the spy master, who knows councilman Hirrye is taking a chance with these tactics. Even so, things are falling into place, and in their favour.
With many on the ruling council thinking that hostilities would die down during the winter.
Especially the middle of winter, which it is basically now.
The spy master, along with the informant Nahor, knows that victory for councilman Hirrye could be sooner than expected.
"I should be getting back" quietly says the assistant to councilman Kolmar, who follows that with "Lunch is almost over here, and there's another meeting of the council scheduled this afternoon".
"Keep us informed of any new developments" quietly says the bookkeeping who is the spy master for councilman Hirrye, here in the capital city Kuradum.
"I will" quietly replies Nahor, who with a nod of farewell, gets up and makes his way from the front of the wine shop, and heads down the street.
Meanwhile, the rebel spy master glances around and spots some of his spotters.
Including the individual upstairs in a room in the building across the street, basically opposite the wine shop.
They all give a shake of the head, to indicate that Nahor, the assistant to councilman Kolmar, isn't being followed by anyone.
Though the spotter in the two storey building basically opposite the wine shop.
Is a little confused at the situation. As one moment he saw the spy master and his informant Nahor sitting down infront of the neighbourhod wine shop. And the next moment, Nahor is getting up and leaving.
The reason why is floating in the air, following the assistant to councilman Kolmar, who is heading back to the council buildings in the center of the Kuradum, the capital of the city-state of the same name.
Landing upon the right shoulder of the blurred and shielded elven spellcaster that she's attached to.
Narladene the ground pixie quietly tells him "Dispatch rider" followed by "They've just landed behind the barracks".
Helbe the elven thief, who has the ability to cast multiple spells at once. Something of a rarity, as most practitioners of magic struggle to cast two spells at once.
Nods his hooded head as he floats about a hundred feet above the city streets.
Directly above councilman Kolmar's assistant, Nahor. Keeping pace with him as he's making his way back to the council buildings in the city center, on this cold, but sunny winter's day in the capital.
"Wonder what's happened?" quietly murmurs the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"Whatever it is, the satchel the rider has is stuffed full" quietly says the naturally magical creature from the Sunreach Mountains.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril nods his hooded head, then quietly says to the tiny winged creature "Might be word of the enemy's advance in the south".
The elven master assassin briefly pauses before he continues on with "They could be making their big push upon the city".
The ground pixie who attached herself to the highly talented elven magic user a number of years ago, nods in agreement with that assessment from him.
As he continues floating through the air, keeping pace with the assistant to councilman Kolmar, Nahor.
Who is totally oblivious to the fact that he's being followed, when he thinks he's taken all precautions to not be followed as he heads back to the council buildings.
On this cold, but sunny winter's day here in the capital of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 40.

Winter.

They withdraw south through the walled town of Gensa. Fighting the advancing enemy.
As they do so this night. Zam the ex mercenary finds himself in the thick of it.
The teenager from the city of Kuradum is in the south of the town. Not far from the wall on this side of Gensa.
Zam, who is an infantryman in the armies of Farque. In the light infantry to be exact.
Pops his head around the corner of a building, and seeing that it's clear. He waves forward the local loyalist soldiers who are with him.
As they run out of the alleyway, and across the street to the lane on the otherside.
The ex mercenary who is the newest member of the group, looks back in the direction they've come from.
And he winces when he spots the glow of flames in the distance towards the center of town.
Knowing that could very well be disaster with what is planned this night.
Zam breathes a sigh of relief when he hears a loud whoosing sound, probably water from a spell. And the glow of flames basically vanish in an instant.
The teenager who as a mercenary, was plying his trade in the City of Ruins when he was found by the group.
Knows that they've been fairly lucky this night. As the rebel forces of councilman Hirrye haven't been hell bent on burning anything.
After all, they want to take over the large walled town of Gensa, not destroy it in anyway.
Not so lord Farque, who has no qualms about destroying the largest town in northern Kuradum.
The undead warlord has allowed the enemy into Gensa without going through a protracted siege of any kind.
And as Zam runs from the alleyway, and across the street this cold winter's night.
The teen from the city of Kuradum knows that the lord and ruler of the lands Farque's plan is steadily coming to fruition.
The ex mercenary who is the newest member of the group hurries down the lane to join the local loyalist soldiers.
There he finds Lisell Maera the scout, with a handful of other loyalist soldiers.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, who is now in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Nods in greeting to Zam the ex mercenary, then she nods to the south, to across a town square, to the open south gates of Gensa.
There, other loyalist soldiers, from here in the town garrison, as well as the Kuradum city garrison, are quitting the town of Gensa.
To the loyalist soldiers with him and the scout Maera, Zam the ex mercenary quietly says "Across the square, and out the gates".
The Kuradian teenager who was born and raised in the capital, continues with "The quicker you get out of town the better".
Zam briefly pauses before adding in a slightly dry tone of voice "Later on, you definitely don't want to get stuck in town".
The soldiers loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, hurry from the lane, and across the square towards the gates.
Where others from their garrisons here in Gensa, and the capital city of Kuradum, are making their way out of the largest town in the north of the city-state.
And who are then heading along the road that goes south from the large, walled town on this cold winter's night in this part of Kuradum.
Zam the ex mercenary, and Lisell Maera the scout follow after them. Though the two of them don't go out of the gates like the loyalist soldiers.
Instead they head towards the nearby sally port, where a couple of the group are waiting.
Dorc da Orc growls as he throws an axe, which slams into the head of one enemy soldier.
Shattering apart the man's skull. And continuing on into the chest of the following rebel soldier.
Who is slammed back into a pair of rebel soldiers who are closely following behind him.
The large ork goes to advance on the remaining rebel soldiers who are backing away.
Then he growls in annoyance when he hears a familiar voice say "Dorc, fall back".
Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy continues with "We want them to advance on us remember".
"Fucknuts" mutters Dorc da Orc, who turns and starts following the others. Then the ork warleader chortles when he spots an annoyed looking sir Percavelle Lé Dic retreating down the street as well.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, gets to the corner of the street where the spy Tanith is waiting.
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae, who has just waved by some loyalist soldiers, directing them south.
Says to the ork weaponsmith from the wolf tribe if orks "Time to get to the south wall and the gates".
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, dryly adds "We definitely don't want to get trapped in town".
Dorc da Orc is in agreement with that, then he grunts and starts heading off, when the elven spy says to him and sir Percavelle Lé Dic "You two, let's go".
The three of them, the ork general in the armies of Farque, the elven spy who is a company commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
And the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, who has no rank whatsoever in the armies of Farque.
Start making their way to the nearby south wall of Gensa. As the enemy continue to advance through the walled town on this cold, winter's night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
On top of the south wall of Gensa, Beldane the cleric looks northwards across the town.
The powerful cleric who has cast a farsight spell upon himself, can't see him.
But he knows Helbe the elven thief is somewhere on the north wall of the largest town in Kuradum.
As the talented elven magic user is speaking to him via a mindspeech spell the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel has cast.
The fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell, nods and replies to something the elven masterthief says by way of the mindspeech spell.
Then the member of the church of Glaine, a god predominantly worshiped in the north of his homeland Nastell, looks down to the base of the wall here at the southern end of town.
"Nearly all of them are in!" Beldane the cleric calls down to those waiting at the sally port, about thirty yards from the south gates of Gensa.
"He'll be closing them soon!" adds the powerful spellcaster, who though part of the group for a handful of years now, has yet to step foot into the lands Farque.
The fighting cleric in the halfplate armour spots a number of the defenders of Gensa crossing the town square towards the gates.
Including Dorc da Orc, sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy. Then he calls down "The last of ours are here!".
Nodding his hooded head, Mira Reinholt the mage calls up to his fellow spellcaster on the top of the wall "Get ready to secure the gates!".
The once powerful mage then turns to Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, Lisell Maera the scout, and Zam the ex mercenary, and says to them "You three out".
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, who is in exile from his homeland, then adds "Make sure Tam does the otherside".
Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit nods, then says "We will". Before he hurries through the open sally port, followed by Lisell Maera and Zam the ex mercenary.
While the mage, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, hurries to the gates, calling out to the approaching group "You lot with me!".
The gates are swinging closed from the otherside, and the mage Reinholt says to the group that includes Dorc da Orc, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, and a number of loyalist soldiers "Bar the gates!".
Before sir Percavelle Lé Dic can question him, the once powerful mage who is a member of lord Farque's personal council, tells him "We're going out the sally port".
"Now pick it up, and bar the gates" orders the spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell that he accidentally cast a number of years ago.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, picks up the heavy wooden beam by himself with the just a grunt, and a muttered "Fucken cunts" in effort.
And with the others guiding it, they place it into the slots, and bar the large gates, here in the south wall of Gensa.
"Hurry, through the sally port" orders Mira Reinholt the mage, who gestures to the nearby sally port.
The dozen or so loyalist soldiers, followed by sir Percavelle Lé Dic, Dorc da Orc and finally Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, make their way through the sally port, and out of the town of Gensa.
The Vexilian mage in exile stays inside, closing the sally port, and slides down the iron bar into the slots, and closes the lock.
The member of lord Farque's personal council casts a spell upon the lock.
Then he creates a mageglobe, which hops out of his hand, and drops to the ground, and sinks beneath the cobblestones infront of the sally port.
The swordmaster Reinholt then looks up, and as the enemy start to appear across on the otherside of the square.
He teleports up to the top of the wall above the gates, and joins his fellow spellcaster, Beldane the cleric.
As the fighting cleric swings his magical mace, and a shaft of white light shoots down out of the night sky, and lands amongst the enemy rushing across the town square, where it explodes.
Mira Reinholt the mage steps to the nearest crenalation, and looks down to the otherside of the gates.
There he sees Saanea the witch, who has just cast a spell, next to her is Tamric Drubine the field commander, who looks up, and calls out to the once powerful mage "We're done!".
The young noble from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin continues with "Get out of there!".
Then he and his lover, the pretty looking witch from the Maldin Hills, turn and hurry away from the walled town of Gensa.
And join the others on the road, who are retreating from the largest town in northern Kuradum.
"Is he done up there?" asks Mira Reinholt with a nod of his hooded head across town, to the north wall of Gensa.
"He's just about to" replies Beldane the cleric, who then adds "Time for us to go".
Then he teleports himself, along with the once powerful mage, off the top of the wall, and south away from the town of Gensa.
"Come on you lot" mutters Helbe the elven thief as he looks down from the north wall of Gensa.
"Hurry up" adds the highly talented elven magic user as he watches the last of the enemy entering the walled town of Gensa.
After a few moments, the highly talented elven magic user murmurs "Good enough".
"I'd say so" quietly says Narladene the ground pixie who is on the right shoulder of the elven masterthief she's attached to.
As basically all of the enemy, the soldiers at least. Are now inside the town of Gensa.
Their siege towers and catapults have been abandoned. The only ones left outside of the walls of the largest town in northern Kuradum are the camp followers. Who remain back up the road, in the camp.
From the top of the north wall of Gensa, the blurred and shielded elven magic user closes the gates with a spell.
They swing in and close without any of the enemy knowing, as they've all rushed further into the large, walled town.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel then casts a seal spell upon the gates.
Then even if it's not necessary, he casts a barrier spell too, since he doesn't bother to put the bar on the inside of the gates.
"Time for us to go" quietly says the member of the royal family that rules Laerel.
Then Helbe the elven thief, with Narladene the ground pixie clutching onto his right shoulder, shifts away.
Standing on one of the two hills just to the south wall of the walled town of Gensa.
Lord Farque who is watching the last of the group, and defenders of Gensa, hurrying along the road south of the large walled town.
Looks towards the north, as he finally senses Helbe the elven thief making his way off the north wall, and away from Gensa.
"You may begin your attack" says lord Farque to the person standing beside him.
"Yes my lord" replies Tovis the war engineer, who then looks behind him and gives a signal.
He looks across to the hill on the otherside of the road, and gives the same raised hand signal, knowing that one of his observers over there will see him.
Then from down behind them, there comes the creak of a very large siege engine in motion.
There's one, a second, then a third. Trebuchets that launch their loads. The same happens from behind the others hill on the east side of the road.
And on this cold winter's night in this part of northern Kuradum, large boulders, covered in pitch and naphtha that have hay mixed in within it.
Send burning streaks through the air, as they go flying towards the town of Gensa, which isn't all that far away.
Just over a hundred yards from the hill on the east side of the road. And a little bit further from the hill on this side of the road.
They all land within the large walled town, all hitting their first targets. Such is the precision of the engineers in the armies of Farque.
They land creating explosions, as all the buildings they hit, have a number of barrels of pitch and naphtha stored in them.
Which instantly go up in flames, spreading fire quickly to those buildings close by. As parts of the large walled town start to rapidly burn.
Meanwhile, the trebuchets are being reloaded, and they start flying their burning loads once they've been adjusted to fling the burning boulders towards their next targets.
On top of the hill to the west of the road, lord Farque watches the town of Gensa burn.
The town this cold, winter's night that now has well over five thousand of the enemy rebel soldiers trapped inside of it, with no way to get out . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 39.

Winter.

"Clear the wall" orders Tamric Drubine the field commander during a lull in the attack upon the north wall of the town of Gensa.
"Retreat" adds the young noble who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, and is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"Yes sir" says the commander of the local garrison here in the walled town of Gensa.
Who starts calling out "Retreat!" to those defenders upon the north wall of the largest town here in the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
It's dusk, basically early evening when the call to retreat is heard across the top of Gensa's north wall.
As loyalist soldiers head quickly to the nearest set of steps, and make their way down into the town.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Looks over, and down, and away to the right, to where the north gates are.
"Bloody useless lot" says field commander Drubine when he pulls his head back up.
"They still haven't been able to breach the gates" adds the senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"Don't worry, i deal with it" says Helbe the elven thief who suddenly appears beside Tam.
"I'll open it for them" adds the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"And I'll close it behind them too" quietly continues the highly talented elven magic user.
The son and heir of a previous Knight of castle Drubine, which can be found in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin, nods his head in understanding.
Then the elven spellcaster quietly says "I'll see you later on". Before he disappears from beside the young field commander.
Tam looks to either side along the top of the wall to make sure his orders are being carried out.
And in the early evening gloom on what's been a cold and murky winter's day here in this part of northern Kuradum. He sees that his orders are being followed.
And that loyalist soldiers, both from the local garrison here in Gensa, as well as from the capital city garrison.
Are abandoning the top of the north wall, and making their way down into the town.
"Oh hell" mutters Tamric Drubine, who clearly sees two people who are by far the largest people left on top of the wall, who look to be in no hurry to abandon their position.
The young field commander punches the face of a rebel soldier who pops his head up over the top of the wall, sending the man falling backwards with a scream, off the top of the scaling ladder he's just climbed.
Tam walks along the top of the wall, and says to a trio of local soldiers who have just pushed a scaling ladder away from the wall with a polearm "Get off the wall".
Field commander Drubine adds "Down into the town now" as he continues walking along the top of the north wall of Gensa.
The three nod, and quickly head to the nearest set of steps, and hurry down them.
The young noble who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin picks up a dropped torch, before continuing along the top of the wall.
He shoves the burning torch into the face of a rebel soldier who is just about to climb up onto the top of the wall.
The enemy soldier screams as he grabs his burnt face while falling backwards off the top of the ladder he's on.
Tam drops the torch down onto the next rebel soldier climbing the ladder. That soldier in councilman Hirrye's forces falls from the ladder screaming, knocking the next soldier down, off it too.
"You might want to get those two off the wall" says Tamric Drubine the field commander as he comes to a stop.
"They're definitely not following orders" dryly adds the senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"Who?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage as he looks one way along the top of the wall, then the other way.
"Oh" sourly says the once powerful mage, who hails from the city-state of Vexil, his homeland that he's in exile from.
"Farque already gone?" asks the Vexilian spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
"He has" replies Tam, who follows that with "A little while ago, before i gave the order to abandon the top of the wall".
The mage, who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque nods, then says "Come on" he then adds in a slightly dry tone of voice "Better get those two idiots off the wall".
The spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell that he accidentally cast a number of years ago.
Makes his way along the top of the wall with the young field commander in the armies of Farque.
As he does, Mira Reinholt who has just created a mageglobe, nonchalantly biffs it off the top of the wall.
And it lands amongst some of the enemy at the base of the wall, where it explodes.
The explosion isn't large, but it is devastating. As burning liquid fire splashes over more than thirty of the rebel soldiers, as well as a scaling ladder some of them are carrying.
"You know for two people who clearly detest one another, they sure do like to fight side by side when it suits them" says Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"Crazy likes company" dryly says Mira Reinholt the mage as they make their way along the top of the wall.
They stop just back from the two they've come to get off the north wall of Gensa, and the mage Reinholt says to them "You two, time to get off the wall".
Dorc da Orc who has just picked up an enemy soldier who has got up onto the top of the wall. And the large ork has lifted him up above his head, to throw him back from where he came from, turns and looks at the exiled Vexilian swordmaster, and the young noble from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
While sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who is right beside the ork warleader. And who is just cut down another rebel soldier who has topped the wall.
And is about to do an overhead swing with his sword at another enemy soldier who is about to the top of the scaling ladder against the wall.
Turns to look at the mage Reinholt and field commander Drubine.
"Huh?" grunts Dorc da Orc, while his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, says "Wot?".
As the two of them have no intention whatsoever of abandoning the top of the north wall of Gensa, even though they know that's part of the plan that lord Farque has devised.
Then before either the ork weaponsmith form the southern polar region of the world, and the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic start arguing.
The mage Reinholt steps forward so that he's close to them as he casts a spell.
The next moment, the bitter rivals disappear from the top of the north wall of the town of Gensa.
"The fuck" growls Dorc da Orc as he throws the enemy soldier he's holding above his head, down.
To have the rebel soldier land at his feet, onto the cobblestones of a street.
While next to the large ork, his bitter rival, the former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che carries through with his overhead swing, only to cut thin air.
"By Narille, what is this devilry?" loudly mutters sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he looks around, wondering where the hell they are.
Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name. Growls as he stomps down on the back of the head of the rebel soldier lying at his feet, groaning in pain.
The warleader of the ork race after shattering apart that enemy soldier's skull, looks away to the north, and says "Killer you fucken cunt".
While next to him, his bitter rival, the large, heavily armoured knight from the kingdom of Druvic, says "That wicked mage and his evil ways".
As they find themselves down in the town of Gensa, about eighty yards from the north wall of the largest town in northern Kuradum.
The nobleborn knight sourly smiles, while the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, scowls as they can clearly see the enemy is now swarming over the top of the north wall of Gensa.
"Oi you two!" calls out a familiar voice, they look away to their right, and see Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy down the street, who calls out "This way!".
Dorkindle huffs in displeasure, while sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, sighs in disapproval.
Before the two of them make their way down the street to join the elven spy in the armies of Farque.
As the enemy enters the walled town of Gensa en masse as the plan of lord Farque intends them to do.
"You lot go" says Helbe the elven thief to the defenders at the north gates of Gensa.
The twenty or so loyalist soldiers take off running into the town proper.
While the young elven noble who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
Looks up towards the top of the wall, and he sees on the west side of the gates.
The enemy has truly gained a foothold, and have topped much of the wall in that direction.
With some of them even making their way down the steps, and into the town of Gensa itself.
Not so much to the east of the gates, where there's just a few pockets of the enemy who have gained the top of the wall in that direction.
The highly talented elven magic user sees why, and he casts a spell to get in contact with the reason why.
Best you get going, says Helbe the elven thief by way of a mindspeech spell he's cast.
We need them to take that half of the wall as well, continues the elven masterthief who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
Will do, replies Beldane the cleric, who after swinging his magical warhammer one more time, which knocks down a trio of the enemy in flash of white light.
He disappears from the top of the north wall, to the east of the gates where the rebel forces have yet to swarm over it.
Then as night continues to fall over northern Kuradum, the elven master assassin blurs and shields himself.
"Think they'll go for it?" quietly asks Narladene the ground pixie from the right shoulder of the young elven noble, who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
"Let's hope they do" is the reply of the blurred and shielded elven magic user.
Who then nods his hooded head, when the naturally magical creature quietly says "Some of them will think it's a trap".
"I'll have to persuade them otherwise" quietly says the elven master archer.
Who after seeing that the enemy are now swarming over both sides of the north wall of Gensa.
Opens the north gates of the walled town. Gates that the rebel forces have struggled to smash open all afternoon, and now into the early evening.
"There you go, come on in" murmurs the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel.
Who then floats up to the top of the north wall of Gensa. To see how the enemy forces are doing.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user as he looks straight down from the top of the wall, above the north gates of Kuradum's largest town in the north.
Watches as after a slight pause, those rebel soldiers who were just on the otherside of the gates. Rush in through them now that they're open.
The elven princeling from Laerel looks further back, and sees that more of the enemy have spotted the open gates here on the north side of Gensa.
And they too start hurrying forward so that they can enter the largest town in northern Kuradum.
The elven master assassin nods his hooded head in satisfaction as he watches the oncoming enemy this evening.
Then he slightly frowns as he spots a mounted rebel officer shouting, and waving his arms, to get the enemy soldiers to stop entering the walled town of Gensa.
"Hell" mutters Helbe the elven thief to Narladene the ground pixie.
"One of them knows it's a trap" quietly adds the elven masterthief who is the envoy for the armies of Farque.
"Can't have that" continues the highly talented elven magic user as he sees quite lot of the charging enemy, have stopped and are holding back from entering through the open gates.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril looks at the enemy officer, and goes to cast a spell upon him.
The elven practitioner of magic pauses as he thinks of something, and changes his mind, and casts another spell instead.
The elven master archer faintly smiles, for he was just about to kill that particular officer in councilman Hirrye's forces with a mindblast spell.
Instead he casts a mind control spell upon the enemy officer who is mounted on his horse, just off to the side of the road, about fifty yards from the north wall of Gensa.
The officer now starts yelling to the waiting soldiers to run into the walled town as quickly as possible.
And though some of them are confused at his sudden change in orders.
That doesn't stop them from rushing forward with their comrades, to get through the open gates as quickly as they can.
"Here we go" quietly says Narladene the ground pixie as she sits upon the right shoulder of the blurred and shielded elven magic user.
"Indeed, here we go" quietly says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel as they watch the enemy forces rush in through the north gate of the large, walled town of Gensa.
Into a town, that over the last few days, has been set up as deadly trap for councilman Hirrye's army, here in the north of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 38.

Winter.

The rebel army of councilman Hirrye arrives early in the afternoon the next day. And set up camp to the north of the walled town of Gensa. Just to the east of the main road that leads to the northern gates of the walled town.
By the looks of things they're not going to attack today. As they only move forward a relatively small number of their forces, to observe Gensa.
Lord Farque is having none of that, as he wants the enemy to attack the walled town as soon as possible.
So the undead warlord who doesn't wait for a parley of any kind, has the pair of catapults on the north wall, start flinging their loads at the enemy. Those forward observers who are within range of the catapults.
Rocks and boulders of all sizes rain down upon the couple of hundred enemy who are forward of their camp.
Those not killed or injured, quickly retreat. As they do, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque has his spellcasters attack them.
He also has Mira Reinholt the mage start sending mageglobes into the enemy camp.
After a few explosions amongst the tents and wagons. The commander of the enemy forces has had enough.
And he orders a full scale assault upon the walled town of Gensa.
Even though his war machines, such as his catapults and siege towers have yet to be properly set up.
"Make sure they only attack this wall" says lord Farque as the enemy form up to charge the north side of the walled town.
"Keep them from encircling the town" adds the undead warlord as he looks at the spellcasters, Mira Reinholt the mage, Helbe the elven thief, Beldane the cleric and Saanea the witch.
"That will be your main task for now, and make sure you take out their catapults" continues the large, heavily armoured deathlord as they stand upon the north wall of Gensa.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then glances up at the murky afternoon sky on this cold winter's day, then turns and says in the ork language "Think it'll snow cunt?".
After sniffing a few times as he looks up, Dorc da Orc says in the same language "Nah, not now" followed by "Fucken later, at night".
"Good enough" murmurs the undead being who has the name of Draugadrottin that the people of his lands also know him by.
Then Dorc da Orc chuckles and says in the common language "Silly fucken cunts" followed by "Look at 'em".
As he shakes his large head in disapproval as the enemy who have barely formed up ranks, charge forward.
As he stands a bit further down from the undead warlord, the ork warleader and some of the others in the group.
Zam the ex mercenary who doesn't know a lot about battles, as he's only been in a handful of them. Especially not sieges.
Nods his head in agreement with that assessment from the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
For the enemy are charging towards Gensa in what can only be described as a haphazard sort of a way.
They've broken ranks, and are all over the place. With many along the line, out distancing those beside them in their own squads.
As the two catapults upon the north wall, which are manned by local crews. Continue to fling loads of rocks and small boulders at the enemy.
Archers and crossbowmen get in on the action. Shooting at the rebel soldiers once they get within range.
As they continue to watch the disorganised attack upon the north side of Gensa.
Tamric Drubine the field commander quietly says to lord Farque in the elven language "Do we proceed as planned?".
As he watches a group of enemy soldiers fall over themselves as they attempt to carry forward a scaling ladder, Draugadrottin quietly says "Yes, at night".
The lord of the death realm continues with "When you fall back, i want as many of them within the town as possible".
As they watch as a number of the soldiers in councilman Hirrye's rebellion get dropped by arrows and crossbow bolts, the undead warlord dryly says "Hell, if these fucking idiots can't break down the gates themselves, you might have to open them up for them".
The young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, wryly smiles at that.
For as they watch the enemy's attempt to storm the north wall of Gensa, he suspects he might just have to do what the lord and ruler of the lands Farque just suggested.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord then says "Hell, you might just have to" followed by "Might be best if the gates are still intact".
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Slightly frowns at that from the lord of the death realm. Then after a moment, the young field commander nods in understanding.
And does so again, when lord Farque quietly tells him "I'll just have a word with the royal thief about it".
Draugadrottin continues with "Would be ideal if we're able to close those gates behind them".
The undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
Makes his way along the top of the wall to where Helbe the elven thief is standing.
While the former heir to castle Drubine, which lies in the forested north of the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Goes back to watching the haphazard attack of the enemy upon the north side of the walled town of Gensa.
Zam the ex mercenary steps to one side to allow Lisell Maera the scout to use more of the crenalation the two of them are behind.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury is using her crossbow to shoot at the oncoming enemy.
While to their left, at the next crenalation along in that direction. Stands Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who is using his bow to shoot at the charging enemy.
The ex mercenary who hails from the capital city of Kuradum looks in both directions along the wall.
And sees that the entire group is along this section of the wall, with the exception of Tovis the war engineer, who is elsewhere.
Then the teenager, who is the newest member of the group. Goes back to watching the rebel army who are charging towards the north wall of Gensa.
The forces of councilman Hirrye in the north of the city-state know that the local Gensa garrison have been reinforced by a thousand loyalist soldiers and city guardsmen from the capital.
As they departed the city of Kuradum a few days ago. Out the north gates of the capital, and they marched north to the walled town of Gensa.
All within view of the spies that the rebel councilman has at his disposal in the capital city, as it was intended.
For all that, the rebel army in northern Kuradum know that they still badly outnumber those loyal to the ruling council who are defending Gensa.
So even with their reckless and haphazard change upon the north wall of the largest town in the north of the city-state.
Quite a few of the rebel soldiers in the army of the so called duke of Kuradum.
Make it to the north wall, and put up scaling ladders, which many of them start to climb.
"Filthy beast" mutters sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a disapproving manner as Dorc da Orc pushes a scaling ladder away from the top of the wall.
"You could at least let them get to the top, wot" adds the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, who continues with "And let me have a go at them".
The large ork who isn't listening to his bitter rival, the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, which is pretty normal to be honest.
Just snorts in derision as he glances in the direction of the large, heavily armoured knight.
Who he figures is muttering something about him. Which is what the former earl of Lé Dic often does.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group is about to open his mouth to say something disparaging about the ork warleader.
But he falls silent when lord Farque turns and says "Percy" to the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
"Enough" adds the undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier. Which roughly translates to, The Destroyer.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord then says to the bitter rivals "You two know what to do?".
Dorc da Orc grunts in the affirmative, though he has a scowl upon his broad, green, brutish looking face as he thinks about what they're to do.
"Yes my lord" replies the Druvician nobleman who is a former paladin.
And though he isn't scowling like his bitter rival the ork warleader. He is frowning as he contemplates what they're to do later.
"Make sure you do, or else" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque in an ominous tone of voice.
Then the lord of the death realm turns and walks to where Tamric Drubine the field commander is standing watching the enemy attack the town of Gensa, and quietly says to him in the elven language "Make sure those two fucking idiots do what they've been told to do".
Knowing exactly who Draugadrottin is referring to, Tamric Drubine the field commander quietly says in the same language "I will".
That's if they listen to me, the young field commander dryly thinks to himself.
Meanwhile, the bitter rivals. Who never agree on anything. Share a look when lord Farque has his back to them, and speaks to the young noble from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
And though they dislike one another immensely, the two of them. Who have exactly the same idea what they want to do later, instead of what they've been told to do.
Slightly nod as they share that look. As they plan to do something else later on, instead of what they're supposed to do.
Further along the north wall of Gensa, as a few of the soldiers from the town garrison drop rocks down at the enemy at the base of the wall.
Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, who is on his tippy toes as he looks over a crenalation, says "Er, can't have that".
"Can't have what?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage who has been looking further back amongst the ranks of the enemy.
Back towards their camp, where workers and soldiers are struggling to assemble their siege engines. Specifically their catapults and siege towers.
The once powerful mage looks to where the halfling former air sailor from the Sultanate of Dreese points.
"Shit" mutters the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil when he sees what his fellow member of lord Farque's personal council has spotted.
Mira Reinholt quickly creates a mageglobe, as it's a lot faster for him to create one of them, than it is to cast a spell.
The living piece of magic shoots from the gloved right hand of the mage Reinholt, off the top of the wall.
Towards a number of the enemy about sixty yards away from Gensa.
They're a squad of enemy archers, and at their feet are firepots. Which some of them have already dipped their arrows wrapped with cloth soaked in pitch, around the heads into.
The mageglobe stops right in the middle of them, and does what it was created to do, and that's explode.
The explosion isn't particularly large, or violent. Infact it's more of an explosion of light really. Blue light, the colour of the mageglobe that's just come to the end of it's existence.
Lines of blue light shoot out, cutting and slicing apart anything they come into contact with.
Archers are cut in half where they stand. Their bows sliced apart too. While those crouching to dip the heads of the arrows into the fire pots, are decapitated.
The lines of blue light go about thirty yards in all directions. And others are struck by them. Punching holes right through them. Or cutting people in half, usually at the waist.
While others are just caught, and end up with legs or arms cut off. One poor unfortunate has a hand sliced off.
And as he drops to his knees screaming in pain, looking at the stump where his hand just was.
Another of the blue lines of light hits him, this one in the head as he's screaming, shaking his head at what's just happened to him.
His head is sliced apart diagonally, from the top of his skull, down through his right eye, then out his right cheek.
That part of his head slides off perfectly, and falls to one side, while the rest of his dead body falls to the other side.
"Hell" loudly mutters Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit when he sees what the Vexilian mage in exile has just done.
"Hell is what it'll be like in here if they shoot any of those fire arrows over the wall and into town" says Mira Reinholt the mage.
His fellow council member, the former air sailor from the far east coast of the continent, grunts in agreement with that from the spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil.
As they, and the others along the top of the north wall. Continue to watch the enemy forces attack the town of Gensa.
On this cold, and murky winter's day here in this part of the north of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 37.

Winter.

"Well that fucked them for a bit" says Tamric Drubine the field commander after he, Mira Reinholt the mage, Helbe the elven thief and Beldane the cleric.
Come back to the town of Gensa through a gateway cast by the cleric Beldane.
After witnessing the attack upon the enemy along the stretch of the main road about twenty miles to the north of Gensa. That Mira Reinholt mined yesterday with a number of his mageglobes.
The effect was devastating to say the least. With easily over a thousand casualties. Either dead or wounded. From the mageglobes going off at various times as the enemy column passed over them.
"They'll be going cross country after that" says the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The trio of spellcasters who accompanied the young field commander this morning, nod their heads in agreement with him.
"It'll give us more time to continue the evacuation" adds Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Lord Farque nods his full helmed head at that, then he turns to commander Tracklen and tells him "Continue the evacuation, i want everyone who isn't in your army, or a hired mercenary out of the town by the end of the day".
"Yes my lord" says commander Tracklen, who turns to a couple of his staff members, and tells them "See to it".
The senior most officer in the loyalist army continues with "We want Gensa emptied of it's citizens quickly".
The loyalist officers nod then hurry off along the top of the north wall, and head to the nearest set of steps.
As the evacuation of Gensa, the largest town to the north of the city of Kuradum, continues.
The road leading south of the walled town is busy with people making their way to the capital city about thirty five miles away.
The journey there will be tough for those on foot. For today, like yesterday, it's a cold and windy day here in this part of the north of the city-state.
The push south by the enemy forces is a diversionary tactic. Even so, lord Farque who is in charge of the loyalist's campaign against the rebels led by councilman Hirrye.
Is going to make the so called duke of Kuradum and his rebel army pay for their tactics.
The undead warlord gave up on the walled town of Gensa immediately when he realised what the enemy forces were doing.
The loyalist forces, even with his third army. Don't have the manpower to withstand a drawn out siege to hold Gensa.
As well as fight in the east of the city-state where the main frontlines of the war are.
As well as counter the main attack by the enemy forces which will come from down in the south of the city-state.
So the large, heavily armoured deathlord is basically going to give the walled town here in the north to the enemy.
True, he's going to make them fight for it. And eventually withdraw, and let them have Gensa.
It's then when he'll make them truly pay for their diversionary tactics.
"How goes it?" asks the lord and ruler of the lands Farque as he looks at the war engineer Tovis.
"Everything in position now?" adds the undead being, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"They are my lord" replies Tovis the war engineer, who continues with "The last of them were set up during the night".
The undead warlord nods at hearing that, then looking at the loyalist commander Tracklen, asks him "The other preparations here in town?".
"Going well my lord" says the loyalist senior officer, who follows that with "We've put them where your engineers have instructed".
The Kuradian senior officer then says "Now we're putting the rest where the next most damage will be done".
Adding to that, Mira Reinholt the mage says "I'll put some surprises scattered throughout the town too".
"We'll help out there as well" says Helbe the elven thief, who with a nod of his hooded head, indicates Beldane the cleric, and Saanea the witch as well.
"Very well" says lord Farque who briefly looks away to the north, then looks back at those on top of the wall with him, and adds "Get to it".
As they move off, the lord of the death realm looks away to the south. To the pair of hills just to the south of Gensa.
They're on either side of the main road that heads south to the capital. They're not particularly high hills, and one is only a hundred and twenty yards to the south of the walled town.
Though both hills are fairly broad, much to the satisfaction of the undead warlord.
As it's made his plans against the enemy when they get to Gensa, so much easier.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque has told the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum that they're going to lose the town of Gensa.
Draugadrottin just hasn't told them how exactly they're going to lose it. As that will be a surprise for both them and the enemy.
Lord Farque turns and says to Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic "You two with me".
And the undead warlord leads the ork warleader from the southern polar region of the world, and the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
Along the top of the north wall of the town of Gensa, to the nearest set of steps that head down into the walled town.
Goema, at just twelve years of age. Has been working in the stables for more than half of his life.
The stablemaster took him on after Goema's mother died of the wasting disease.
The young stable hand never knew his father. Who was probably one of the soldiers in the barracks, or a traveler who stopped off one night, and took a fancy to his mother, who was a maid at the inn.
The inn, is basically the local garrison's establishment. As it's right up against the barracks, here in the north of the walled town of Gensa.
Infact the stables here at the inn, are more often than not. Used by the garrison when they've got extra soldiers and mounts in attendance.
Like they do now, for the last three days here at the inn. And for that matter throughout the walled town. Is the busiest that Goema has ever seen it. Infact, the stablemaster Podma has never seen is so busy.
Especially with the orders coming from a couple of days ago, that Gensa is to be emptied of it's citizens.
With the exception of the army, the mercenaries hired to fight against the rebels. And those closely in support of both of them.
Which includes the stablemaster Podma, and his stablehands like Goema. As they're basically close support of the local barracks here in town.
"Wonder what that is?" asks Goema, as he and the stablemaster stand outside the stables and watch some of the local soldiers.
Who under the watchful eye of those from the mercenary army from someplace called Farque, all of whose soldiers are clad in black uniforms, armour and cloaks.
Roll a number of barrels, some large, others smaller. Towards the large stables at the back of the inn.
They watch as the local soldiers, many of them they know. Set up the barrels in and around the stables.
Putting some in empty stalls, while others are rolled into position around the stables.
As Podma goes off and talks to a couple of the soldiers. Goema steps inside the stables, and makes his way over to one of the empty stalls.
Well it's empty of a horse. As there's now a large barrel standing upright in it.
And as the stablehand gets close to it. He catches wind of a familiar smell. It's pitch. The thick heavy kind used on airships, as well boats that ply their trade on the nearby river.
Podma checks out a few of the other stalls that have barrels in them. And they all have barrels of pitch with the exception of one.
That one is a smaller barrel, and that one doesn't smell like pitch at all.
To Podma's nose, it smells similar to lamp fuel. Though not quite.
It's more like lamp fuel, mixed with a lye soap of all things.
He's not exactly sure what it is. But whatever it is, it must be dangerous in some way.
For the pair of  local soldiers who carried that particular barrel into the stables. Were a lot more cautious than the others who brought in the barrels of pitch.
Infact they hurried away from it as soon as they placed into the stall at the end next to where the hay is stored.
Goema backs away from it fairly quickly after getting a whiff of it's strange smell.
He makes his way out of the stables, and walks over to where Podma is talking to a couple of the local soldiers.
Who have been joined by a pair of black clad mercenary soldiers from the lands Farque.
One of whom Goema sees is a young woman of all things. An attractive one at that.
He refrains from shaking his head, as he never thought he'd see a woman soldier.
As there's none in the barracks here in the town of Gensa. Infact, he's not all that sure if there's women serving in the loyalist army at all.
Or for that matter, in the rebel army too. At least not as soldiers. As you'll see plenty of women doing other jobs in the warring factions who are trying to rule the city-state of Kuradum.
As Goema approaches, and stops just back from the group. Standing behind the stablemaster Podma.
He sees it's the young woman in black who is doing all the talking. And that the local soldiers defer to her.
"No one is to touch those barrels, or move them" says Lisell Maera the scout.
"They're there for a reason" adds the attractive young woman who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
"You can figure out why" dryly continues Lisell Maera, or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group.
The scout Maera, who with Zam the ex mercenary is overseeing the placement of the barrels of pitch and naphtha in this area in the north of the walled town of Gensa.
Looks at the stablemaster of the inn, along with the youngster standing a bit behind him, who must be one of his hands.
"You and your hands will be leaving once the fighting starts?" asks the attractive young woman in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"Yes sir, i mean ma'am" replies Podma the stablemaster.
"Good, make sure you do" says Lis, who continues with "And I'll say it again, keep away from the barrels" followed by "Especially the slightly smaller ones".
The scout Maera glances sideways at Zam the ex mercenary, who just cleared his throat.
Lisell Maera sees Zam nod away to the right, and the scout spots a couple of Farqian engineers approaching.
They're carrying a number of instruments with them. One of which is similar to a sextant found on sailing ships.
Though the scout Maera knows the one the engineers have, goes on top of the tripod stand one of them is carrying.
One of the engineers calls out something in the elven language to Lis, and she replies in the same language.
Then reverting back to the common language, the scout in the armies of Farque says to the stablemaster "Clear the rest of your hands out of the stables for a while".
Then she says to the local soldiers from the barracks next door "Then clear everyone away from around the stables and the inn".
The scout Maera nods over to where the two black clad engineers are setting up their equipment, which also includes a long, brass, cylindrical eyepiece, and she says "They need to do their measurements and calculations without any hindrance".
The pair of loyalist soldiers, and the stablemaster nod, then move off to do her bidding.
As they walk back to the stables to round up the other hands, Goema after glancing away to the pair of black clad soldier setting up some kind of strange instruments.
Quietly asks Podma the stablemaster "What kind of mercenary soldiers are those?".
As the two men in black, are wearing long leather armoured vests, similar looking to a blacksmith's smocks.
Though both men have warhammers strapped to their backs, and smaller hammers on their belts.
"And what are those things they've got?" quietly adds the stablehand as one of them puts up a strange looking, tripod stand.
"I have no idea to both of your questions young Goema" is the quiet reply of Podma the stablemaster, who then quietly says to the hand "What i want to know is why they want to keep us away from those barrels?" followed by "What's in them?".
As they enter the stables, and the stablemaster calls out to the other hands to get out, and keep clear of the stables and inn for a bit.
Goema tells him that the barrels are full of pitch, then he adds "Well, except for one, it's got what smells like lamp fuel in it".
He briefly pauses before continuing with "Well lamp fuel if you mix it with the lye soap that the washer women use on the bed sheets and clothes".
As the other hands exit the stables, Podma winces after hearing that from Goema, then he says "Hells" followed by "That's naphtha, no wonder they want us to keep clear of it".
The twelve year old stablehand has heard of that before, and nothing good about it, he winces too, then says "Hells".
The two of them might not know what's fully going on in the defence of their town of Gensa against the rebel army of councilman Hirrye.
But if it involves pitch and naphtha being set up in their stables, as well as elsewhere in town.
They know whatever it is that's going to happen, it's going to be destructive for sure . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 36.

Winter.

"Hell it's cold today" mutters Mira Reinholt the mage as he stomps his feet in his boots a few times.
Before he makes his way along the road again, stopping about twenty yards from where he just stopped previously.
He looks back, and finds Helbe the elven thief looking away to the north along the road.
"Anything?" calls out Mira Reinholt the mage as he too looks away to the north.
"Nah nothing" replies Helbe the elven thief, who then makes his way to where his fellow spellcaster is standing in the middle of the road.
"You know this will really only work once" says the once powerful mage, who holds out his right gloved hand, and creates a mageglobe.
"Once is good enough" says the elven masterthief, who then casts a spell upon the living piece of magic.
"They'll just have refugees go out infront, and mingle with them after this" says the mage Reinholt, who then bends down, and pushes his creation into the ground, and sinks beneath the road.
Shaking his head, the mage from the city-state of Vexil, his homeland that he's in exile from, quietly says "By the shape of fire, even i can't sense them" followed by "And i created them".
"That's the point" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who briefly pauses before adding "I can't either, and that's my spell on them".
"I can" says Narladene the ground pixie who the mage Reinholt suddenly sees upon the right shoulder of his fellow spellcaster.
Peering down at the ground, the naturally magical creature adds "I can see them too".
"Well of course you can sense and see them" dryly says the highly talented elven magic user as he and the Vexilian mage continue along the road.
"Perks of being me, and not you lot" states the tiny winged creature from the Sunreach Mountains.
Who chuckles when the two spellcasters sourly look at her.
They stop about thirty yards from where they placed the last mageglobe.
After creating another and putting this one down near the side of the road, Mira Reinholt asks "When was the last time we did this?" followed by "I can't remember".
"Can't recall the last time" says Helbe the elven thief after his fellow practitioner of magic pushes the living piece of magic into the ground.
"But i clearly remember the first time" says the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
"That time Dorc was going to be executed" adds the highly talented elven magic user, who follows that with "When he was going to be publicly hanged".
The exiled Vexilian mage who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, chuckles then says "I remember".
"Hmmmm i don't" says Narladene the ground pixie with a frown upon her tiny face as she sits upon the right shoulder of the elven princeling she's attached to.
"It was before we met" says the elven master assassin who like his fellow spellcaster, is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"Oh" says the ground pixie as the two spellcasters continue on their way down the road.
The main road through this part of northern Kuradum. The main road that heads south to the walled town of Gensa.
As the mage Reinholt does his cloak up tighter, as there's a bitterly wind blowing across the road on this cold, winter's day.
The elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel, asks the ground pixie who is attached to him "Anyone close?".
Narladene drops down to the surface of the road, and feels in all directions through the ground.
She makes her way back up onto the right shoulder of the elven master archer and gestures away to the south and says "No one except for Beldane".
The naturally magical creature points away to the west, and adds "And some farmers about three quarters of a mile that way".
The tiny winged creature from the Sunreach Mountains nods at the mageglobe that Mira Reinholt has just created, and asks "Not just anyone can set them off, can they?".
After prince Helbenthril Raendril casts a spell upon the living piece of magic.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell he accidentally cast a number of years ago.
Shakes his hooded head, and says "No, they know who to target" followed by a murmured "I hope".
The highly skilled swordmaster bends down and pushes the latest mageglobe into the ground, where it sinks beneath the road.
As he knows the mageglobes will do what they've been created to do. Though they have a mind of their own, and sometimes they go about doing things they're supposed to do, in their own unique way.
The two spellcasters go about another hundred yards down the straight stretch of road, and come to a stop.
And after the mage Reinholt creates another living piece of magic, and Helbe the elven thief casts a spell upon it.
The Vexilian mage in exile pushes the mageglobe into the surface of the road, and it sinks beneath the ground.
Narladene the ground pixie after a moment as they look around, says "It's almost like they're asleep".
"Is that what it is?" asks the once powerful mage who is a member of a family that owns one of the most successful, and wealthy trading companies in all of the Southlands.
"Well, sleep is too strong of a word i guess" says the naturally magical creature, who continues with "It's more like they're resting as they wait".
Both the human mage and the elven magic user nod their hooded heads at hearing that.
Then they continue on their way, heading towards a bend in the road, a road that goes through some farmland here in the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
"For a main road in this part of the city-state, it ain't exactly busy" says the Vexilian practitioner of magic, who was once a member of the mage council of his homeland.
Infact he was just seventeen when he sat upon that council. The youngest in the history of the city-state of Vexil to do so.
Though he didn't stay on it for long. As he was kicked off it, and sent into exile when he betrayed his homeland during the Battle of Vexil. The largest battle in the Southlands, and for that matter, war in recent history.
"Word has got through to the locals that the rebels here in the north are on the march" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"I guess a lot of them have quit their farms and taken off south" adds the highly talented elven magic user.
Who gestures away to either side of the road as they stop at the bend, and he asks the ground pixie sitting on his right shoulder "Anyone else around in the distance?".
As he can see farmhouses and barns in the distance to either side of the road.
"Apart from those away to the west, a bit north of here" says Narladene who continues with "There's no one" she then adds "They've gone, taken their stock with them too".
"Thought so" quietly says the elven masterthief as he watches his fellow spellcaster create another mageglobe.
Mira Reinholt puts two mageglobes here, one on either side of the hard packed dirt road.
The top layer of which is partially frozen at this time of the year, the middle of winter.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster drains the power from one of the gems in an inner pocket of his cloak.
"Here, replenish this" says the once powerful mage, who hands the gem, a garnett, to his fellow practitioner of magic.
"Ooohhh that's a pretty one" says Narladene the ground pixie as she looks closely at the gem the elven masterthief is holding.
"It is?" asks the the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel.
The tiny winged creature nods her head, then says "Nearly flawless".
"Well, well, well" says the elven master assassin who looks sideways at his fellow spellcaster.
"I'd take it kindly if you didn't nick it, you thief" dryly says the once powerful mage.
Which causes the elven magic user to chuckle as he infuses the gem with power again.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril hands the garnett back to the exiled Vexilian mage.
Who puts it back in one of the inner pockets of his black hooded cloak as the two of them.
Members of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, continue on their way along the road.
They can now see Beldane the cleric, on a small rise, when previously there was a stand of trees, blocking their view of him.
The powerful spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell, is about four hundred yards further along the road from where they are.
Then after they stop, and the mage Reinholt places another of his creations beneath the surface of the road.
Narladene the ground pixie says "Wyvern" she points and adds "To the east and north".
"Rebel or a loyalist one?" asks councilor Reinholt, as they know both sides in the conflict here in the city-state of Kuradum, use wyvern riders as messengers and scouts.
"Hmmmm not sure" says the naturally magical creature from the Sunreach Mountains.
Helbe the elven thief, with his naturally enhanced eyesight can see the wyvern too. And he's isn't too sure which side of the war it is on yet.
"The rider is wearing a long cloak over his armour and uniform" says the elven magic user as the wyvern, about six miles away to the northeast, turns to the south.
"Can't identify his tabbard" continues the elven princeling who then adds "Have to wait until they can get closer so i can read the riders mind".
"Get Beldane to do it" says the practitioner of magic who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
The elven master assassin does exactly that. Communicating with the cleric from the kingdom of Nastell by way of a mindspeech spell.
The member of the church of Glaine, is far more powerful than either the elven magic user and the human mage.
And after he casts a farsight spell so he can see the wyvern and it's rider nearly five miles away, and heading south almost parallel with the road.
He casts another spell to read the mind of the wyvern rider.
"Shit, one of their's" says Helbe the elven thief after Beldane by way of the mindspeech spell informs him of who the wyvern rider is.
"A scout, spying things out most like" says Mira Reinholt the mage.
The elven master archer nods to that, then says "That's exactly who it is" followed by "I better get him".
"Don't kill him" says the Vexilian mage in exile, followed by "He might be useful".
The masterthief, a member of elven royalty, grunts. Then he disappears as he blurs himself and shifts away.
Though the mage Reinholt can't see, or for that matter, sense his fellow practitioner of magic.
Nor for that matter, can Beldane the cleric, from where he stands on a rise further down the hard, packed dirt road.
Narladene the ground pixie can clearly see the blurred and shielded elven magic user.
"He's quickly approaching it" says the tiny winged creature as she hovers beside the mage Reinholt.
"Just about there" adds the naturally magical creature who hails from the Sunreach Mountains.
The once powerful mage in the black cloak, nods his hooded head. And the next moment he sees the wyvern jerk to one side, and squawk indignantly.
The rider is no longer on the back of the thirty foot long creature.
"I guess he's got the rider?" says Mira Reinholt, Narladene replies with "He has".
As the wyvern, which are fairly unreliable creatures to begin with. Starts winging away to the north after it's initial outburst of it's rider no longer on it's back.
"Those things aren't exactly loyal, are they?" dryly says the exiled Vexilian swordmaster.
"That's for sure" says the ground pixie, who has never really cared for wyverns.
As they're flighty, demonstrative creatures. Often temperamental, and unreliable. And that's the tame ones. Wild wyverns are even worse.
"He's coming back" says the tiny winged creature as she watches the elven masterthief, who has the unconscious wyvern rider over his right shoulder.
Shifting his way in the sky, back to where the mage Reinholt is standing in the middle of the road.
A short while later, and Helbe the elven thief is standing next to his fellow spellcaster.
And the unconscious enemy wyvern rider is at their feet, lying on the road. The next moment, Beldane the cleric appears beside them. After he teleports from the rise further down the road.
"I didn't read his mind that much" says Beldane the cleric, the powerful spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell, then adds "Just enough to know that he's in councilman Hirrye's army".
"That he is" says the elven masterthief, who continues with "Best we take him back with us" followed by "He's got some useful information the others will want to hear about first hand".
Mira Reinholt nods his hooded head, then he says "We'll do this stretch of the road then head back". The other two spellcasters are in agreement with that.
And a little bit later, on this cold winter's day here in the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
The trio of spellcasters, the ground pixie along with their prisoner are gone after going through a gateway that Beldane the cleric casts.
There's nothing to show that they've been here. Apart from the more than forty mageglobes on a nearly three mile stretch of the road, hidden beneath the ground.
Mageglobes that are lying in wait to do what their creator has created them to do.
To attack the enemy army of councilman Hirrye, who are further north. Making their way south on this very road as they march towards the walled town of Gensa . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 35.

Winter.

"Here, here and here" says Tamric Drubine the field commander as he points at a map of northern Kuradum.
"A lot of them are on the main road up there" adds the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Not bothering to hide that they're coming south" continues the senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"And you think this a diversion?" asks commander Tracklen of the loyalist army.
"We do" is the reply of field commander Drubine as they look at the maps on the table.
"With those numbers, that's a pretty big diversion" quietly says the Kuradian senior officer in a worried tone of voice.
Next to him, his adjunctant Morris nods his head in agreement as they look at the tags on the map that represent the enemy.
"It's basically what we expected" states Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
The field commander in the armies of Farque points at a spot on the map, then he says "The town of Gensa is in for a hard time of it I'm afraid".
Commander Tracklen grunts as that was to be expected, then he says "Is there anything else we can do for them?".
As the loyalist army has already sent an extra three hundred soldiers to the large, walled town of Gensa.
Which is located in the north of the city-state of Kuradum, about fifty or so miles north of the capital city.
It lies on the main road in the north of the city-state. At a crossroads, with the busy east, west road that goes through northern Kuradum.
Tamric Drubine the field commander glances over to where lord Farque silently stands.
After a moment the undead warlord slightly nods his full helmed head in reply to the glance from the senior officer in his army.
"There's something we might be able to do" says Tam to commander Tracklen.
The son and heir of a former knight of castle Drubine, which lies in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin then adds "We'll discuss it later".
The loyalist army commander nods in understanding. As this meeting isn't one of the private ones that he and his staff have with the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
This one has a number of the ruling council of Kuradum in attendance. Along with their offsiders, such as their assistants and others.
Some of whom, at least a couple that commander Tracklen knows. Are out and out spies for the rebel army.
Who are led by the rebel councilman, Hirrye. Who intends to rule Kuradum by himself.
As he's already calling himself the duke of Kuradum. And if he's successful in his war against the loyalists. He will be the ruler of a newly formed dukedom.
Commander Tracklen then says "If this is a diversion, even such a big one".
He continues with "Where do you expect the actual attack to come from?" followed by "Their true offensive push?".
Looking straight at the loyalist commander, so that he makes eye contact with him.
Tamric Drubine says to him "We're not entirely sure" he continues with "We're still trying to figure that out".
Commander Tracklen grunts at hearing that. But from that look directed at him by the young field commander in the Farqian mercenary army.
He knows that they know exactly where the enemy will make their major push from in their war against the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
"From the south" says Tamric Drubine a little bit later in one of the side chambers here in the main building of the ruling council.
In attendance now are just the group, along with commander Tracklen, his adjunctant Morris.
As well as a few senior officers of the loyalist commander's staff. All of whom are trusted. And by magical means. Proven to be loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
"Any reason why?" asks the loyalist army commander who grew up on the streets in the poorer quarter of the capital city.
"Just a number of things we've worked out" replies the field commander in the army from the lands Farque.
Who the ruling council of Kuradum have hired in their war against the rebel army and councilman Hirrye.
"Some of our airships have attacked and destroyed their's down in the south" says Tam, who then adds "A couple of days ago, one destroyed a trio of enemy warships, as well as two merchant vessels those three were protecting".
The young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin continues with "A few prisoners were taken before one of the ship's was destroyed, and we found out a number of important things".
The Farqian field commander explains what they are. And why the main push by the enemy in this winter campaign will come from the south.
The senior officer in the armies of Farque then says "Not only that, the warship in question attacked a small group upon the ground who were watching things from a distance".
Tam glances at lord Farque, who looks at Helbe the elven thief, and says to him "Show them".
"This is from one of the spellcasters onboard our vessel" says Helbe the elven thief, who continues with "The view at first will be skewed, but it will become clearer after a few moments".
"Skewed?" asks commander Tracklen, who then adds "Why's that?".
"Because they were upside down at the time" dryly says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who starts casting a spell.
The spell is an illusion spell. Of a viewing spell shared with him by one of the krean navigators onboard the strikeship that destroyed the trio of enemy vessels, and a pair of merchant vessels. In the south of Kuradum a couple of mornings ago.
To the side of the table they're gathered around, basically up against one of the walls of the side chamber. The spell manifests, and comes into view.
"What the hell?" mutters the adjunctant Morris in astonishment, who tries to tilt his head so he can see the moving image the right way up.
Then he quickly straightens up, as do a couple of the other loyalist officers who were doing the same thing. As they don't want to look like idiots infront of the group of mercenaries.
"What language is that?" asks commander Tracklen with a frown upon his face as they can now hear what's happening too.
"Not common" is the reply of lord Farque, who doesn't elaborate on that. Nor does anyone else in the group.
They watch as the view quickly flips, now with everything right side up. With the sky above, and the ground below. As the moving image began the opposite way round at first.
Away to the right, which the loyalist officers figure is to starboard. As the viewing spell is from onboard an airship of some kind.
They spot the remains of a burning airship, broken in two, falling out of the sky.
And from the way they catch a glimpse of the ground zipping by in the distance.
This airship is flying a hell of a lot quicker than any vessel that they've ever been aboard.
Then they hear what's obviously a command in the strange language. And instant later they hear a barrage of magetube shots.
They see a number of them, well over twenty of them, streaking through the sky, away from the airship the spellcaster is on. Heading towards a hill in the distance, a hill that looks to be a couple of miles away.
Whoever the spellcaster is, they're looking at the hill in the distance. One moment they're looking at it normally.
The next instance, they're looking close up at that hill. To be exact, the top of the hill, and those who are on it.
"Freeze it" commands lord Farque, and that's exactly what Helbe the elven thief does with the viewing spell given to him by one of the navigators onboard the krean strikeship.
There's silence for a moment or two as they look at the still image, then commander Tracklen says "Holy shit, that's Hirrye".
As they can all see the rebel councilman amongst those on top of the hill the magetube shots are heading towards.
The adjunctant Morris speaks up, and points as he says "Pretty sure that's Phogarn with his back to us".
"Yeah that's definitely the subcommander" says another of the loyalist officers who then adds "And over there is general Ukaj".
"The prick" mutters commander Tracklen who never liked Ukaj, then he points at another of those in the group on top of the hill, and adds "There's that young sorceress that Hirrye was sniffing around before he rebelled and declared war on the ruling council".
The loyalist commander, follows that with "What was her name again?".
"Losmena" is the quiet reply of the adjunctant Morris, who knows the sorceress fairly well.
Commander Tracklen glances at his adjunctant, but doesn't question him about the sorceress, who he knows Morris was an acquaintance of.
"There's a few others there i recognise" says commander Tracklen, who continues with "Like those there, those former city guards who were always hanging around Hirrye and doing whatever he wanted them to do".
"Probably his personal guards now is my guess" says the adjunctant Morris, who tries to get thoughts of the sorceress Losmena out of his head, but is unable to.
Helbe the elven thief interrupts the talk of the loyalist officers, and says "The sorceress quickly casts a rift, and only a small group of them get through it".
The highly talented elven magic user continues with "The rest of them are killed".
The elven masterthief unfreezes the image, and the viewing spell from the krean navigator continues.
They watch as the sorceress Losmena takes councilman Hirrye by the arm and points at the rift she has hastily cast.
The rebel leader and his assistant subcommander Phogarn rush through the magical portal first.
Following quickly behind them are general Ukaj, and his adjunctant. As well as a pair of the councilman's personal guards.
The sorceress herself is next, on her heels is a young soldier, a runner by the looks of it.
Then the rift disappears, trapping the rest of the group on top of the hill. And the next moment the first of the magetube shots hit. Quickly followed by the second.
Obliterating all of those still on the hilltop. Not that there's much of a hilltop left, or for that matter a hill after more than twenty magetube shots slam into it, and explode.
Sending most of the hill flying across the countryside in that part of southern Kuradum.
The viewing spell ends after the airship it's taken from, turns away. And passes over the burning debris on the ground of one of the enemy warships it destroyed.
After a few moments of silence, commander Tracklen says "They were lucky there".
The senior loyalist army officer who knows a thing or two about portals, as he's gone through a number of rifts and of late gateways, continues with "Even if they were on the otherside, if one of those magetube shots had hit the rift if it was still up, they'd be all dead".
Helbe the elven thief, along with the other spellcasters in the group. Mira Reinholt the mage. Beldane the cleric and Saanea the witch all nod in agreement with that.
"Lucky bastards" murmurs the adjunctant Morris, who though annoyed that the leader of the enemy escaped. Is more than a little bit relieved that the sorceress Losmena survived.
"Any idea where they went?" asks commander Tracklen of the loyalist army.
"Further south is all we know" is the reply from Tamric Drubine the field commander, who follows that with "Where exactly, we're not too sure".
After a bit of silence, the senior most officer in the army loyal to the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum quietly says "If Hirrye's down there himself, then the push will definitely come from the south".
Field commander Drubine nods to that, then he says "With the timing of the diversionary push upon Gensa in the north, we can expect them advancing from the south in the next few days".
"Any idea where exactly?" asks commander Tracklen, his adjunctant Morris and the other loyalist officers are thinking the exact same thing.
"No where specific" is the reply of the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
Tamric Drubine steps aside, and lord Farque takes his spot infront of the main map on the table.
"Even with our recent victories on the frontlines in the east, they still have the numbers on us" says the undead warlord.
"If they're smart enough, they'll do this" adds the large, heavily armoured deathlord, who makes a sweeping gesture in an arc or crescent shape across southern Kuradum.
"Attack across a broad front so that they'll stretch our defences" continues the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who then says "I suspect they'll do it".
The undead being, who the people of his lands also know him by the name of Draugadrottin, says "It's what i would do" he then silently adds, it's what I've done.
As the deathlord of Farque did exactly that, infact twice. And was victorious both times. Nearly four and a half centuries ago when he was still alive. When he was the battlelord, Kaiuss Farque.
First against the founder of the city of Kuradum when the heir to the lands Farque was still a teenager. Then a few years later when he was just twenty one. Against the Holy Norstran Empire. Who had invaded the Southlands and had occupied the city.
Now the undead warlord is defending the city of Kuradum, and the wider city-state. Something four and half centuries ago, he never thought he'd be doing . . . . . .