Mercenary Tales 60.

The City-State Of Vexil. 

Or so they think they've killed Dorc da Orc. You see the thing about orks is that they're incredible difficult to kill. It's all to do with their natural ability to heal. Which constantly heals them no matter what. 

And if you want to kill an ork. You better make damn sure you've actually killed it. For though they can often look or seem dead. In actual fact they're still alive. Though barely. 

As it is when Lord Farque finds Dorc da Orc in the underground chamber the large ork was being held in by his captors. 

The undead warlord steps over the dead mercenary he threw down the underground corridor, and after a brief look in the direction he has sensed those he's after have fled in. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord walks through the open door into the chamber, where he finds the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, who is a general in his armies. 

The lord of the death realm rolls his eyes as he sees the state that the ork warleader is in, and who he senses is barely alive. 

"Fucking idiots" mutters Lord Farque as he walks over to where the large ork is chained up "Should of chopped his fat fucking head off if they wanted to kill him" dryly adds the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque. 

Draugodrottin which is the name he's also known by to his people, rips off the magically enhanced chains pinned into the ground and wall holding the ork weaponsmith. 

The unconscious ork who the deathlord of Farque named warleader of the ork race a number of years ago, slumps over after the undead warlord pulls the spear out of large ork's throat that's pinned him to the wall. 

Des'tier which is Lord Farque's elven name, rolls Dorc over so he's lying on his back, he straightens the large ork's broken leg out. 

Then he places the chopped off lower left arm of the ork general next to the stump of that arm. Which has already stopped bleeding. 

Then the lord of the death realm takes one of the glass vials in the slots along the top of his belt, making sure it's the right one. 

Draugodrottin is just glad the large ork isn't dead, at this moment, he doesn't have a resurrection potion at the moment on him. He needs to get Helbe the elven thief to give him one, or steal one if the young elven noble hasn't got any at the moment. 

And if the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks was dead right now. Des'tier has no plans to bring him back as undead. 

For that sounds like pure stupidity in the opinion of the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque. As he can't think of anything more idiotic, truly a walking disaster it would be having an undead ork in the world. Though those plans will change in just under a hundred years from now. 

The undead warlord can't help but faintly smile behind the faceplate of his full helm, then murmur "The big dumb fuck isn't going to like this". 

Then Draugodrottin drops the glass vial into the open mouth of the ork general, then closes Dorc's mouth, causing the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world to swallow the glass vial whole. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord steps back and waits for the Greater Healing potion, the rarest and most powerful of all the healing potions, to work on the warleader of the ork race. 

Dorc da Orc groans as he comes up out of unconsciousness, the large ork feels something prod him in the side, rather uncomfortably, and a voice, which is familiar, say in orkish "Get up cunt". 

The ork weaponsmith opens his eyes, and though his vision is a little blurry for a moment, it quickly clears and he finds Lord Farque standing over him, looking down at him. 

Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name grunts, then attempts to sit up, he feels a little groggy, like he's drunk his entire village's store of winter wine. 

Which he and his two best friends, No Legs Munga and Onka Donka did one summer, much to the disgust of their fellow tribe members. 

It takes him a few goes, but the ork general in the Armies of Farque sits himself up. Then the large ork remembers what actually happened to him. 

He clears his throat as it's more than a little sore at the moment, then Dorc da Orc in a raspy voice says "Look what them cunts did to me" he holds up his left arm as he adds "Make me just like fucken Killer". Referring to Mira Reinholt the mage, who the large ork calls Killer. 

The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks then actually looks at his left arm, and blinks in surprise a few times. 

"Huh?" murmurs Dorkindle who then frowns, before he mutters "Da fuck?". As he looks at his left arm, which is whole again. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world just stares at it for a few moments, then he glances down at his right leg, and finds that it's no longer broken. 

The general in the Armies of Farque is silent for a bit, then he says "Me fucken arm was chopped off" followed by "And me leg all brokey". 

"Not anymore" says Draugodrottin, who continues on with "All healed now" followed in a slightly dry tone with "Must be that natural fucking healing all you orks have". 

The warleader of the ork race glances sideways at the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, not saying anything. 

The large ork is a lot of things, stupid being pretty much first amongst those things. But even he knows his natural ability to heal, can't reattach an arm, or heal a broken leg in no time at all. 

Dorc would call the large heavily armoured deathlord a fucking liar. Just not to his face, as he doesn't want his head kicked in. 

The ork weaponsmith instead grunts, then with his mouth feeling a little dry, and wishing he had some booze on him, the ork warleader smacks his lips. 

Dorkindle frowns as he thinks of something, then he smacks his lips once more as he realizes that there's a weird taste in his mouth. 

Infact the taste isn't weird, it's absolutely disgusting to the ork general, who suddenly realizes what it is. 

"Yuck" mutters the large ork, who continues muttering with "Fucken gross". As all he can taste in his mouth is the after taste of a healing potion. 

A particular nasty one in the opinion of the ork warleader. One definitely made by Helbe the elven thief. Who takes great delight in making potions that taste absolutely foul to the taste buds of an ork. But perfectly pleasant to everyone else. 

The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, who is itching to call Lord Farque a cunt for giving him such a potion while he was knocked out. 

Instead grunts, when the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque nudges him again with a steel boot, this time in the leg, and tells him "Get up". 

It takes a few attempts, but eventually the ork weaponsmith gets to his feet. 

Dorkindle goes to take a step, but instead stumbles to one side, and would've fallen over if the lord of the death realm hadn't grabbed him to steady him. 

Dorc da Orc who like all just after being healed by a potion, is a little woozy, and more than a little sore and aching, just grunts then sourly smiles after the large heavily armoured deathlord dryly says to him "Want me to fucking carry you?". 

"Nah Dorc good" eventually says the ork weaponsmith, who frankly finds even the thought of being carried around by the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque as absolutely humiliating. 

Though still a little unsteady on his feet, Dorkindle follows after the lord of the death realm who nods his full helmed head for the large ork to follow him. 

After stumbling for a bit, the warleader of the ork race, eventually makes it out of the chamber where he was held captive. 

As he does, and he follows after the large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque, Dorc da Orc asks him "You kill them cunts who catched me?". 

Des'tier shakes his head no, then responds to the ork general with "They got away" which illicits a grunt from the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. 

The ork warleader even though he's still a bit wobbly, moves up to be beside the undead warlord as they make their way through the tunnels and corridors of an unused section of the underground part of the town of Musille. 

And Draugodrottin asks the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks "Tell me about that lot who captured you". 

The lord of the death realm who knows that the large ork killed four of the group that they're after. He found their dead bodies on a street in the city of Vexil as he was making his way to where the ork general was being held captive. 

Listens to the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world tell him about those who captured him. 

As he listens, Des'tier occasionally reaches out to steady the ork weaponsmith who is still a bit unsteady on his feet after been given such a powerful healing potion. 

At one point the large ork walks into the wall to their right, and the lord of the death realm has to turn Dorkindle in the right direction, as they head through what's the abandoned section of the underground town. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque frowns after the general in his armies says something, then the large heavily armoured deathlord asks the warleader of the ork race "This woman wasn't in command of them". 

"Nah" says Dorc da Orc who chuckles as they walk by a group of bodies, mercenaries who unfortunately encountered the deathlord of Farque. 

"The fucken magicky cunt was bossing it" says the large ork who follows that with "And only because some elven she bitch was out of it" he then adds "She the one in command". 

Hmmm that's odd, Draugodrottin thinks to himself as he wonders where Misa Geist is in all of this. 

The undead warlord nods his full helmed head and says "What's that?". In response to the ork weaponsmith telling him "Me know why they wants to kill Dorc". 

"They all shitty for what we did back in that fucken war" says Dorc da Orc who continues with "The big fucken one in the city" he follows that with "You know, the one where we first meeted Killer". "Oh?" murmurs the lord of the death realm, who then silently adds, now isn't that interesting. 

The ork general bursts out laughing, wheezing as he holds his sides as they head up a ramp like tunnel that leads outside, and he spots two dead trolls near the top of the ramp. 

"Fucken cunts" growls Dorkindle as he looks at the dead trolls in disgust, as they stand just inside of the opening that leads underground. 

Then the warleader of the ork race asks the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque "What we gonna do?" followed by "And where them fucken cunts at?" the large ork then mutters "Me gonna fucken kill 'em dead when we catch 'em". 

"They're back in the city" says Lord Farque who is looking westwards, back towards the city of Vexil. 

"And what we're going to do" continues Des'tier who follows that with "Is find out exactly what they're doing" he then adds "Not just trying to kill the two of us, but this conflict they're trying to cause between Vexil and Girdane". 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts at that, then he frowns when the deathlord of Farque looks at him intently for a few moments. 

"What?" asks Dorc da Orc, Lord Farque is silent for a few moments more, before he finally says "I'm guessing they think you're dead" quietly followed by "Which will come in handy". 

"How?" asks the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque. Draugodrottin doesn't reply, instead he heads out of the underground tunnel, forcing the ork warleader to follow, as they set off for the city of Vexil on what's a cold and blustery winter's day . . . . . .

Mercenary Tales 59.

In and Around the City Of Vexil. 

Beldane the cleric comes across some of the other clerics, priests, nuns and monks. Many of them bloody and battered, nursing injuries. 

The fighting cleric in the church of Glaine hurries along a lane when some of them point in that direction, telling him to hurry. 

The powerful practitioner of magic who hails from the kingdom of Nastell, runs out into a small square in this part of the city. He winces at what he sees. 

There's at least four dead bodies scattered about the place. And probably twice that in those who are injured. 

The cleric whose god is predominantly worshipped in the north of his homeland of Nastell. 

Quickly takes his mace to hand, and hurries over to where a trio of clerics have cornered what it is, that's been responsible for all this death and carnage. 

Deeming it wise to get involved, for the simple reason he wants to be trusted by this lot from a number of the churches and temples here in the capital of the city-state of Vexil. 

"Fall back" demands Beldane the cleric, basically ordering them to do so. The trio of clerics do exactly that. 

And the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine who is about to cast a spell, says "I'll bind it" quickly followed by "Someone else will have to banish it". 

The cleric in the half plate armour who hails from the kingdom of Nastell, gets a nod of the head in response from Omarc the cleric commander in the church of Famal. 

Then Beldane the cleric swings his mace at the fellow who with a determined look upon his face, and what seems to be shattered legs. 

Stumbles, staggers then runs at the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine. 

Beldane's mace, being the magical weapon it is. Which is to say it can be unpredictable, to say the least. And also be more than a little over the top at times. Does what it does. And slams into the fellow, who with outstretched arms, is running at Beldane. 

There's a bright white flash of light, that temporarily blinds everyone in the immediate area, with the exception of Beldane the cleric when his mace makes contact with the fellow attacking him. 

At the same time, Beldane casts a powerful binding spell upon the man, who though terribly injured, doesn't feel a thing. 

Until the binding spell takes effect. Then the fellow who goes completely still, gives a high pitched scream. 

The cleric in the church of Glaine steps back. Then the cleric commander in the church of Famal, who quickly regains his sight from the bright white light caused by Beldane's mace. 

Casts a banishment spell. And after one last high pitched scream. 

The fellow who attacked all of them. Drops to the ground, and is no longer undead. His corpse just lies there. 

And looking at it now, you wouldn't suspect he did so much damage. Killing and wounding a number of the clergy here in the city of Vexil. 

"Where the hell did he come from?" asks Beldane the cleric gesturing at the dead body on the ground. 

"No idea" sourly says Omarc the cleric commander in the church of Famal, the other two clerics, from different churches, nod in agreement with the now most senior member of the church of Famal in Vexil. 

The fighting cleric in the church of Glaine grunts, then says "I was wondering where you lot had gone off to" he continues on with "I was after that big fellow in the dark, heavy plate armour". 

"Know where he is?" asks one of the other clerics, the member of the church of Glaine shakes his head in response, then says "No idea" followed by "Lost sight of him a little while ago" he then adds "And when I tried to sense for him, I couldn't detect him". 

"Better than we did" mutters Omarc, who follows on from that with "We got distracted by this one" as he gestures at the dead body lying in front of them. 

Beldane nods at that, then he turns and looks at the dead and injured in the square, and is just about to say something, when he and the others suddenly sense something. 

"Mage" quietly says the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine. While next to him, Omarc the cleric commander in the church of Famal, quietly says "The guard". Referring to the city guard of Vexil. 

A squad of city guardsmen appear in one of the lanes that run into the square, with them is a powerful spellcaster dressed all in black. He's more powerful than the other practitioners of magic in the area. For the simple reason he's a mage. 

"I'll speak to them, and explain what's happened" quietly says Omarc the cleric commander in the church of Famal, followed by "Try and smooth things over". 

Beldane nods, and watches as Omarc heads over to the approaching city guardsmen, and the mage who is the leader of their patrol. 

Who have become interested in what's going on in this part of the city of Vexil. 

Meanwhile, outside the city walls. Nearly a dozen miles to the east of the capital of the city-state of Vexil. 

Lord Farque who has been making his way along one of the roads that head east from the city of Vexil. 

Makes his way from the stone road, basically disappearing from sight as he moves so quickly on this cold and blustery winter's day. 

Up ahead is the town of Musille, a fairly large town. Infact the largest town this close to the city of Vexil. 

It doesn't take long for the undead warlord to reach the town, and he leaps up to a rooftop, and comes to a stop. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque who is sensing in all directions, and knows where he wants to go. 

Glances down to the side street below, and watches and listens to a pair of men, mercenaries by the looks of them, as they walk by. 

"I'm telling you I saw someone behind those wagons coming in from the city" says one of the mercenaries, who continues with "Big fellow, in dark armour" he pauses before adding "Just like they described". 

The other mercenary grunts, then says "I didn't see anyone" followed by "And there's no one on foot behind those wagons". 

He glances sideways at his fellow mercenary, then says "You just want that extra pay they promised". 

"Do not" mutters the first mercenary, who then says "I'm telling you, I know what I saw" before continuing with "Though I admit there's no sign of him now when we looked". 

The second mercenary let's out a long suffering sigh, as he if he's sick of his fellow mercenary been telling him what he is pretty sure is lies. 

The two of them continue on their way, while the large heavily armoured deathlord, who one of the them did briefly spot. 

Leaps over to the roof of a nearby building, as he heads to the southeast corner of the town of Musille. 

Lord Farque or Draugodrottin which he's also know as by the people of his lands. Knows that this town has a fairly significant part of it underground. Including one it's marketplaces. 

The lord of the death realm, who has never actually been underground here before. Knows that there's a few entrances to the underground marketplace and surrounding chambers in and near the central town square. 

The undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to The Destroyer is heading to another opening. 

This one to the unused section of what's essentially an underground town, beneath the town proper. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque as he gets nearer to where he wants to go, briefly pauses and closes his eyes. 

"Huh?" murmurs Lord Farque, who continues with "Trolls". The lord of the death realm then nods his full helmed head, and gets underway again. 

As he realizes that the pair of trolls he senses, are likely to be the main guards to the underground entrance that the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque wants to use. 

With the blustery wind picking up, Draugodrottin leaps from rooftop to rooftop, here in the south east corner of the town of Musille. 

The deathlord of Farque gets to the half fallen down roof of a rather rundown looking building, to either side of which are empty lots. 

The undead warlord who has picked up speed before landing on the roof of the dilapidated building. 

Steps off it and drops, and lands in front of a pair of startled looking trolls. Who have both blinked in surprise at the sudden appearance of the large human in the full suit of heavy plate armour. 

It's the last thing either one of them do, because the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque punches one in the guts and lower ribs, shattering them, causing the nine foot tall, more than a thousand pound troll to drop to the ground gasping for breath, and groaning in pain. 

Before the other troll, an even larger one can react, the lord of the death realm quickly steps to his left, and throws a powerful uppercut that catches the large troll right under the chin. 

The punch is so powerful that it lifts the troll off the ground a few feet, and sends it flying back fifteen feet, where it hits the ground, dead with a broken neck. 

Des'tier steps back to his right, then walks forward, to step over the the first troll. The large heavily armoured deathlord, stomps down on the middle of it's back as it writhes on the ground groaning in pain, snapping it's spine. 

Then the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque heads down the sloping floor in the opening in the ground. 

Down which he can see and hear others, mercenaries no doubt like the pair of trolls. Who are guarding this section of the normally unused part of the underground town. 

Which is in use at this time, as the large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque heads to where he can sense a rather badly wounded Dorc da Orc who isn't all that far away now. 

"Wake it" says Mercer who looks from the large ork who for a moment he thought was dead, over to Margin the wizard. 

The practitioner of magic lifts an eyebrow, then after glancing at the stump of the left arm of ork named Dorc da Orc. 

Margin the wizard says "You keep doing that, and it won't live much longer" followed by "Even it can't survive damage like that". 

Mercer just nods, then again says "Wake it" followed by a muttered "Like I said, I'm going to make it pay". 

The spellcaster in the dark red robes just slightly shrugs, then he casts, and a moment later, water appears out of nowhere. 

A large bucketful, that splashes in the face and across the head of the ork named Dorc da Orc who has fainted. 

"Yuck" mutters Dorc da Orc after groaning as he wakes, the large ork who realizes that he's wet, glares at his captors. 

Then the ork warleader glances down at his left arm, the lower half of which is lying on the floor of the underground chamber beside him. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world blinks then mutters in his native language "By Krom look at me fucken arm". 

The ork weaponsmith then once again glares at his captors who are silent as they watch him, and he says in the common language to the one who chopped off his arm "You gonna fucken die reals goods for that ya cunt". 

Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, though not his full name, as that's far too long, not to mention complicated as it changes often, then looks at the others in the chamber and says "And you fuckheads too, dies reals fucken goods". 

"Oh is that so?" says Mercer as he hefts the axe taken from the large ork's weapon harness, then he adds "We'll see about that, won't we". 

Even though he's still bleeding profusely from the stump of his left arm, the blood flow is slowing, and like usual whenever he's in pain, the ork general in the Armies of Farque, ignores the feeling of pain, and says "Dorc promise you, me gonna take a big fucken shit on ya before me kills you dead". 

The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks then chuckles as his captors look at him in disgust, especially the one still holding his axe. 

"Disgusting pig" loudly mutters Mercer, while the sword mistress Kynil nods in agreement with him. While the others are silent as they continue to watch the large ork who is chained to the floor and wall behind it. 

Then lifting the axe once again, intending to chop off their captives other arm, Mercer says to Dorc da Orc "Say goodbye to your other arm". 

Just then they hear shouting from outside in the corridor, followed by hurried banging on the chamber door opposite the large ork. 

They all look at the door, and hear yelling to open up. The wizard Margin nods his head and tells Marcus "Open it" as he recognizes the voice of one the younger mercenaries they've hired. 

The young mercenary in question, almost stumbles inside into the chamber, and almost out of breath, he says "He's here". 

The young mercenary continues with "The one you told us about" he takes a quick breath, then hurriedly says "Big guy in full armour, he's here in the tunnels, killed Mak and Ack" referring to the two trolls in the mercenary company the group has hired. 

"And everyone else who tries to fight him" adds the young mercenary, who continues with "It's a slaughter out there". 

"Shit" mutters Margin the wizard, who quickly shakes his head no when Mercer says "We can get that one as well". 

"We need some of those bloody powerful clerics to deal with that thing" says the spellcaster in the dark red robes, who follows that with "Not to mention Salinéll and Jarkellé are out of it at the moment, we'd stand no chance against that thing". 

Dorkindle with a frown on his broad green brutish looking face, sniffs deeply. Then a grin starts to appear on his face, then he chuckles and says to his captors "You cunts are fucked". As he can smell who it is that's appeared down here, where ever here is. 

"We're going" says Margin who is command of the depleted group with the elven maiden Salinéll unconscious at the moment. 

"Get Salinéll and Jarkellé" adds the Vexilian practitioner of magic, Marcus and the sword mistress Kynil hurry to a side door that Dorc da Orc just notices. 

As they exit the chamber, Mercer gestures at the large ork that they've captured and chained up to the floor and wall behind it. 

The wizard is silent for a moment, then as they hear shouting from further away in the underground chambers and tunnels, Margin says "Kill it". 

"Gladly" says Mercer, who drops the axe he was holding, and picks up one of spears used by their fallen comrade Sorna, and tells the wizard in the dark red robes "Increase my strength". 

Margin does exactly that, and Mercer steps forward, and hisses "Die" at the large ork they've spent years trying to find, and finally capture. 

"Cunt" is the response from ork warleader, just before Mercer shoves the spear with super human strength, into the throat and neck of the ork general, driving the weapon into the wall behind him. Killing Dorc da Orc . . . . . .