Winter.
With debris from the multiple explosions continuing to rain down, some of it onto the top of the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
Lord Farque says to Tamric Drubine the field commander "We're off". Indicating himself and Mira Reinholt the mage.
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, stands next to the undead warlord.
Then the once powerful mage looks out across the city of Kuradum, and the next moment, he and the large, heavily armoured deathlord disappear.
"You're in charge now Tam" Tamric Drubine the field commander murmurs to himself.
Who then rolls his eyes when he spots Dorc da Orc quickly pick up a hand that's just dropped down out of the sky, and landed on top of the wall.
A hand the large ork hastily stuffs in his mouth, and quickly chews, hoping no one catches him doing so.
Waving dust away from infront of him, Beldane the cleric says to the young field commander in the armies of Farque "Think they'll go where we want them to?".
"I'm hoping so" replies the young noble who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"We'll know soon enough" adds Tamric Drubine, who is more commonly called Tam by the others in the group.
Looking out at what's basically a wall of dust and debris that's yet to settle down.
Field commander Drubine glances at the fighting cleric as he gestures at the falling debris, and asks him "Think you can".
"I can't" says Beldane the cleric as he interrupts the young field commander, who is one of the senior officers in the armies of Farque.
"Even as powerful as i am" continues the cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine, a god predominantly worshiped in the north of his homeland, the kingdom of Nastell.
"It'll take a lot of effort to bring up a strong wind to clear all that" adds Beldane, who follows that with "Especially on such a still day like today".
The son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Looks over at his lover, Saanea the witch. Who nods her head in agreement with her fellow spellcaster, the fighting cleric.
Then Tam, and the others looks at Dorc da Orc who says "They fucken moving".
The large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque continues on with "Some of 'em fucken cunts are".
"Which way Dorc?" quickly asks the young field commander in the armies of Farque.
"Not north" is the reply of the ork warleader who waves a large, skillet sized hand away to the left, or east.
"That's good" murmurs field commander Drubine, who then looks in that direction along the top of the wall.
As calls come from those defenders, in the gaps between the gates, where there's little in the way of debris falling back down from the multiple explosions that have destroyed the three bridges on this side of the city.
Saying that some of the enemy army are veering away to the east. As there's another bridge across the river in that direction, just under a mile from the city walls.
And now that's the only spot easily accessible to the city, for those coming from the south, such as the rebel army that's loyal to the self styled duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
"It'll take a bit of time for them to go out east, and attack that wall" says the young Sarcrian born noble.
"Even so, they'll still attempt to cross the river and attack this wall here" adds the senior officer in the armies of Farque, who follows that with "And that's without the bridges".
As the south wall is by far the weakest of the city's walls. As are it's three large gates.
That are still intact after the series of explosions that destroyed the three bridges on this side of the capital city of Kuradum.
"Tis true it is" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic who basically speaks up for the first time this morning.
Then gesturing at the catapult next to the group, the large heavily armoured knight says "Best these chaps keep firing at them, wot".
The nobleborn knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, continues with "As that lot down there are doing, wot".
As he gestures across the square behind them, at the far end of it is one of the trebuchets, which flings another boulder up and out of the city.
Going over the wall, and through the dissipating cloud of dust and debris, on this cold, winter's morning.
As it tumbles through the air, to land amongst the rear of the enemy army that's attacking the city of Kuradum.
Tamric Drubine calls out the order to the catapults, as well as the archers and crossbowmen.
To resume firing at the enemy forces, as the cloud of debris and dust has finally settled down.
Allowing those on top of the south wall of Kuradum. To see what's happened to the bridges. Or what's left of them.
Which is pretty much nothing. As even the bases of the three bridges have been destroyed.
After looking down into the river, where hundreds of bodies lie floating, as well as chunks of debris, that are remnants of the bridges.
Field commander Drubine looks at the enemy army. And sees that maybe five or six hundred have broken off, and headed east.
While the others, look like they're going to try and cross the river that flows along the south wall of the city.
"Be good if more of them went east" murmurs the young noble who was originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Not north" loudly mutters Dorc da Orc who overheard that, though the ork warleader does grunt in agreement with the young field commander.
"You want me to?" asks Beldane the cleric as there's now just a sprinkling of dust in the air from the multiple explosions that destroyed the three bridges on this side of the city.
"No" says Tam, who follows on from that with "We need as many of them over on the east".
"Not north" mutters a disgruntled sounding Dorc da Orc.
"Side, when we do that" continues field commander Drubine referring to something they plan to do against the enemy army.
The Sarcrin born noble who can now see the progress of the enemy, watches them for a moment or two.
Then he steps over and quietly discusses something with the ork general.
After he does, the young field commander in the armies of Farque turns to a nearby signalman and tells him "Have the war engineer Tovis change targets".
As Tam continues to speak with the signalman about orders he wants relayed to the captain in the engineering corp.
Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit says to no one in particular "Good thing those councilmen were off the wall when Mira blew up those bridges".
"Think they'll be a little annoyed with that?" asks Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as he reloads his crossbow.
As the enemy are once again in range, though none have tempted to get in the water.
"They'll definitely be annoyed with that" says the halfling who is from the Sultanate of Dreese, a nation that's on the far east coast of the continent.
The hobbit, a former air sailor who served in the Sultan of Dreese's fleet, then dryly adds "Good thing we didn't tell them a lot of things we're actually going to do, they'll be annoyed as hell if they knew".
The spy Tanith who is standing on one side of the halfling, and Shur Kee the monk, who is standing on the otherside.
Both nod in agreement with the hobbit who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Just then, one of the trebuchets flings off another shot. The first one since the nearby signalman relayed the new orders of field commander Drubine.
The arc of the shot is much higher, and passes way above the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
The shot being higher, makes it's range much shorter. And the loose netting, which is full of rocks and large chunks of broken masonry.
Drop down upon the front ranks of the enemy, those on the river's edge, and just behind them.
"You got anything?" Beldane the cleric asks his fellow spellcaster, Saanea the witch.
The pretty looking practitioner of magic, who hails from the Maldin Hills, which is out towards the coast of the Southlands.
Is standing there with her eyes closed, as she looks through the eyes of her familiar.
Which at this time, is in the air, this cold winter's morning in the capital of the city-state of Kuradum.
It's in the sky, flying above the southern army of the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
"Nothing" says Saanea the witch in reply to the fighting cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine.
As another of the trebuchets down in the streets of the poor quarter flings a shot over the wall.
And the first, then second catapult, here on top of the wall, above the middle gate in the city's south wall hurl shots at the enemy army.
The witch says to the powerful spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell "I guess they're hiding themselves after that first one sent that fireball our way".
Saanea, who is the lover of Tamric Drubine, dryly adds "Getting attacked by Mira would do that i guess".
And though Beldane the cleric chuckles, he's in agreement with the witch from the Maldin Hills.
As the handful of spellcasters in the rebel army, are keeping a low profile after one of their number was killed by a devastating lightning bolt cast by Mira Reinholt the mage a little earlier.
Standing next to field commander Drubine, and general Dorc, Lisell Maera the scout says "Looks like they're trying to bring those siege towers forward quickly".
The ork weaponsmith just grunts at that, while the young field commander in the armies of Farque nods.
"They'll have a hell of a time trying to get those through the water to the wall" adds the attractive looking scout who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
"And even if they do, those towers once in the river, will be too short to reach the top of the wall" continues Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group.
"They will be too short won't they?" asks the scout Maera as she looks at the young field commander, and the warleader of the ork race.
Though Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle, which is his given name, just grunts in reply to Lis.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Does have a pronounced scowl upon his broad, green, feral looking face as he watches a couple of the enemy siege towers being wheeled forward.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands. Who grew up in the poor neighbourhoods of the city of Brattonbury.
Where her mother was a street prostitute, and her father. A man she never met, or knew. Was a sailor, who plied his trade upon the Great Western Ocean.
Looks at the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who she basically grew up with since her adolescent years.
"Maybe" says the senior officer in the armies of Farque, who follows that with "The top of those towers might not be able to reach the top of the wall".
Tamric Drubine briefly pauses as the catapult next to them, which has been quickly reloaded.
Launches away four barrels tied together, that are alight, at the rebel army.
As the barrels of burning pitch and naphtha land amongst the enemy soldiers directly opposite the middle gate in the wall.
The Sarcrinian noble then says "They don't have far to climb up to reach the top of the wall".
"That could be bit of a problem" loudly mutters the attractive young woman originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
The large ork grunts in agreement with that, while the young field commander nods.
For though things are kind of going as they've planned so far. The enemy does have one major advantage over them. And that's sheer numbers.
As the defenders along the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum. Are vastly outnumbered by councilman Hirrye's southern army.
"All we can do is keep taking out as many of them as we can" says Tamric Drubine.
"And with that, more and more of them going over to the east side of the city" continues the young field commander, who quickly adds "I mean not north". As Dorkindle was just about to say that.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then he says "We gonna have a fucken fight on our hands".
Dorc da Orc then adds "No matter what the cunts do, we gonna have to tough it the fuck out".
The ork warleader who is a general in the armies of Farque, follows that with "If we gonna fuck 'em up and beat 'em" . . . . . .
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