Wonderful 84.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

Mira Reinholt the mage looks away from lord Farque when the undead warlord turns his head to the wall behind them, lifts the visor of his full helm and drinks the small glass of juniper berry flavoured distilled spirits.
The once powerful mage glances at Dorc da Orc, and finds the large ork who is busy drinking from a tapped barrel of ale, has also turned his head away so that he isn't looking at the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Somethings never change, Mira Reinholt thinks to himself, who then looks at the other patrons in the tavern as the heavily armoured deathlord finishes drinking, then closes the visor of his full helm, and looks forward again.
"Not surprised Dorc picked the more rowdy tavern in town" dryly says the exiled Vexilian mage, as the mostly human customers, are a rowdy lot to say the least. Well those who aren't staring at the ork warleader as he sits upon the floor drinking from a large barrel of ale.
"No wonder there's hardly any elves in here" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, as a bit of an argument breaks out. Which comes to a complete halt, when one of the serving women, takes a truncheon from beneath her apron, and thumps one of the argumentative men across the back of the head, knocking him out. Causing a fair bit of laughter from those nearby, and others who saw what happened.
"Ooohhh foods" says Dorc da Orc as one of the other serving women, and the tavern keeper bring out platters of food from the kitchen to him "Fucken yums" murmurs the large ork as he sees not single vegetable or piece of fruit on the platters, just meat.
Behind the visor of his full helm, lord Farque slightly frowns as he senses throughout the town and the surrounding area. The deathlord of Farque is sensing the two customers who hurriedly left the tavern earlier. They've met up with a group of elves at a building on the west side of the town, six of those elves, as well as one of the customers are heading quickly back this way.
The lord of the death realm senses two more of the elves from the same building, are rushing to the stables nearby. The undead warlord slightly nods his full helmed head as he figures those two elves will soon be riding out of town, heading south over the mountains.
"We're going to have company" quietly says lord Farque to the mage Reinholt "Oh?" says the once powerful mage who then asks "Who?". "House guards most likely" replies the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster lifts an eyebrow in an inquiring manner, and the heavily armoured deathlord tells him "I'm guessing they'll try to apprehend us".
"Great" dryly says the Vexilian mage in exile, who then nods his thanks to the serving woman who has just delivered him a plate of food. The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, until he accidently went through a rift/void he miscast, and went offworld. Shrugs his shoulders, and starts eating, he might as well enjoy a good meal, it isn't as though he's had many good ones in a while, not since they left Belinswae, because they've been on the move all the time.
Lord Farque glances at Dorc da Orc and thinks about warning the ork warleader they're about to get some company fairly soon. But he decides not to, and will tell the large ork, who is busy stuffing links of sausages into his mouth, what he wants done when the time is right.
The lord of the death realm senses the group of elves outside, one hurries around to the rear of the tavern, where there must be a door that leads outside from the kitchen.
Draugadrottin as he's also known by to the people of his lands faraway to the south across the equator, senses other elves from the building on the west side of town, leaving it, and heading in this direction.
As he does, he senses one of the customers who left earlier, who is now out the front with the group of elves, approaching the front door, which opens a few moments later.
A man looks inside, and looks to the back wall, to the table where the lord and ruler of the lands Farque and the exiled Vexilian mage are sitting. The man then quickly closes the door, the swordmaster Reinholt who sees this, quietly says "That's one of the customers who took off earlier just after we entered".
"I know" says the deathlord of Farque, who then quietly says to the once powerful mage "He's brought the guards who are outside" the mage Reinholt who isn't wearing his cloak at the moment, nods his head, and after quickly checking that his swords are close to hand, goes back to eating his meal, and drinking from his goblet of dry red wine.
The front door of the tavern opens again, and five Haldéilv house guards file inside, though this would normally cause a stir in the tavern that's owned and run by a human, and is frequented by mostly humans.
It barely causes a ripple of murmur from some of the patrons this late afternoon, due to the fact of who is sitting on the floor, drinking and eating as much as he can.
Seeing the elven house guards look their way, Mira Reinholt murmurs to the heavily armoured deathlord "I'm pretty sure i recognise one of them from when she held me prisoner at her father's tower" the lord of the death realm slightly nods his full helmed head, then he glances sideways at Dorc da Orc, and after a brief moment as he contemplates something, lord Farque shrugs his broad, heavily armoured shoulders.
"Cunt, those elven fuckers are going to arrest you for not paying enough for all that fucking grog and food you've got" says Draugadrottin in the ork language "Huh?" says Dorc da Orc in his native language "Da fuck?" adds the ork warleader with a scowl upon his face, who then mutters "Me pays plenty of fucken coins for this shit".
"What pointy eared cuntholes?" asks Dorkindle "Those one's" replies the undead warlord who nods towards the elven house guards who are drawing their weapons as they cross the tavern floor and make their way to the back wall, heading to the table where lord Farque and Mira Reinholt are sitting.
"Those fucken assholes" growls the ork weaponsmith, who only sees a group of elven house guards drawing weapons and heading this way, not seeing they're not paying particular attention to him, and that they're focusing on the deathlord of Farque and the exiled Vexilian mage.
"Are we going to do anything?" murmurs Mira Reinholt as he watches the approaching Haldéilv house guards "We are" quietly says lord Farque, just then a loud roar comes from their left where Dorc da Orc is sitting on the floor, then a large ale barrel, now empty, goes flying through the air.
The empty barrel smashes into one elven house guard, who goes flying. While it clips another, who spins away like a top before hitting the floor. There's a brief moments pause throughout the tavern, which is shattered by a roar from Dorc da Orc who is getting up off the floor. Bedlam ensues.
People get up from their benches and chairs and flee, while the three Haldéilv house guards still on their feet, who were focusing on where lord Farque and Mira Reinholt are sitting, looking at the large, menacing figure of the ork warleader, who shouts something at them in the ork language, which of course that don't understand.
"Fucken Dorc's grub and grog ya cunts" shouts the ork weaponsmith in his native language, who then adds "Fuck off me pays for it already" as he moves towards the elven house guards who are still standing and conscious.
"Out of the way cunt" growls Dorkindle who shoves a customer away, sending him flying over a table as he tried to run by the large ork to the kitchen, so he could escape the carnage.
As the tavern keeper yells "My tavern! Don't wreck it!" the mage Reinholt quietly asks the deathlord of Farque "What did you tell him?" the undead warlord quietly replies with "They're going to arrest him for not paying for his food and drink" the once powerful mage snorts, then briefly chuckles before saying "Well that'll do it alright" he then leans back against the wall behind him and watches the ensuing chaos.
"Get some" growls Dorc da Orc who throws a punch, which one of the elven house guards easily avoids. Not so the other house guard, who comes at the large ork from the side, and ends up with Dorkindle's other arm, which is swinging, smashing into his chest, sending him flying over a table and bench behind him.
The warleader of the ork race grunts as he's hit in the flank by a sword, which catches the edge of the black breast plate he wears. A plate of natural dragon armour. The elven house guards sword shatters in two.
He stands their blinking in surprise, looking at just the hilt and a few inches of the blade that he still holds.
Until he's grabbed by Dorc da Orc, who flings him away to the side, where he slams into a one of the goblins in the tavern. Who has just got up after tripping over the other goblin, who is on the floor dazed, after slipping over.
The ork weaponsmith growls as he turns to confront the remaining house guard, the one he threw a punch at and missed. The guard in the service of lord Haldéilv, is a bit more cautious, and he backs up, flinging a throwing dagger in his left hand, while he clutches the hilt of his sword in the other.
Dorkindle grunts, then mutters "Cunt" after the dagger slices along his face, cutting open his left cheek, before thudding into the wall right between where lord Farque and Mira Reinholt are sitting, neither of who moved an inch as the dagger came towards them.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks glances down, and picks up a fallen sword, he flings it underarm at the elven house guard who is backing away.
"Ha!" laughs Dorc da Orc who then adds "That'll learn ya" as the elven house guard falls backwards dead, with the sword through his mail shirt, the large ork then looks around when he hears lord Farque say "Cunt".
"Huh what?" murmurs the ork weaponsmith who sees the lord and ruler of the lands Farque nod his full helmed head to his right, the ork warleader looks that way, to the kitchen. And sees the elven house guard who was at the back of the tavern, at the kitchen door, looking in, with his mouth open in astonishment at what he sees.
Dorkindle picks up an overturned bench and throws it. The bench narrowly avoids the goblin who slipped over, and is now trying to get up. And passes over the head of the serving woman, who is on her hands and knees, trying to flee towards the kitchen.
The bench crashes into the astonished looking house guard at the kitchen door, he disappears from view when he goes flying backwards into the kitchen.
"Good" declares Dorc da Orc, who then adds "That's all of them cunts" the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks picks up a tankard of ale on a table to his right, he downs the ale in one gulp. Then throws the empty tankard at the goblin still trying to get up off the floor. The tankard smashes into the goblin's head, who drops to the floor.
"Fucken gob-a-lin" mutters the large ork, who takes a step back to where he was sitting, as he wants to eat what remains of his food, when lord Farque says to him "Cunt".
The lord of the death realm points at the front door, and says to the big ork he named warleader "More of them are coming for you".
"What the fuck?" mutters Dorkindle, who turns and looks at the front door of the tavern, which is open as a couple of the remaining customers flee out through it. The large ork sniffs, then scowls as he smells a number of elves quickly approaching the front of the tavern.
Dorc da Orc looks at the open front door, then at the table to his right, his eyelids slightly narrow as he looks back at the front door, then again at the table next to him.
The large ork grunts, then picks up the table, and holds it infront of him, the table is a good twelve feet long, and the ork warleader holds it upright as he stomps his way towards the open front door of the tavern.
"This should be interesting" says Mira Reinholt after he takes a drink from his wine goblet as he watches Dorc da Orc picking up speed as the large ork heads to the front door of the tavern, with a long table held up infront of him.
The once powerful mage is nudged in the right elbow by lord Farque who says to him "See if they've got anymore of that distilled spirits" the mage Reinholt shrugs and gets up and heads to the bar.
As he does, Dorkindle shouts "Get some!" and crashes through the tavern's front door frame, and the wall immediately surrounding it with the table he's holding . . . . . .