Nomad's Plains. Winter...
"We fucken gotta enough?" asks Dorc da Orc "Maybe" says Riley Hait the mercenary ranger as they stand just outside the latest nomad's camp they've visited. The large ork rolls his eyes and mutters "Fuck" as he was of the opinion that he could attack the city of Falnic all by himself, and that they didn't particularly need an army.
The ranger Hait rubs his chin as he thinks about something, then he turns and waves to the tribal leader Chanük, and his brother Saladén the far hunter and calls out to them in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra, which is almost identical as their own language "We'll be back in a little while".
The mercenary ranger who is from the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands then gestures to the northwest and says to the ork warleader "That way".
Dorkindle grunts as he has a fair idea where they're going. After all the large ork spent much of the past summer, living in and around this camp of tribal nomads.
As the two of them walk in the crisp, cool air of a clear winter's morning here in the dry, arid plains where the nomad tribes make their home. The ork weaponsmith drinks from a sack made from sheep's hide, lined with sheep's intestines. It's full of fermented sheep's milk, which is quite alcoholic, and of course the large ork grew fond of it when he stayed here during the summertime.
The two of them from south of the equator are fairly quiet as they walk to the north and west. The only thing they really talk about, is when Riley Hait after looking south in the direction of the long sand, asks the warleader of the ork race "Any of those sand dragons about?" and the large ork replies with "Nah cunt, none of them fuckers around at the mo".
They make their way along a dry creek bed, that hasn't seen running water through it in centuries. The two of them climb up out of the creek bed, and head up a rock field that goes up a rise.
"Me home" says Dorc da Orc with a chuckle as they head to the top of the rise, where the entrance to a cave is. Next to the cave entrance, stands the large skull of a sand dragon, which the large ork killed during the summer when he was staying here in the Nomad's Plains.
They enter the cave, and go down the sandy incline, towards the large pool of water that's at the bottom of the cave. The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks scowls at the water supply of the nearby tribe of plain's nomads. And he keeps as far away from it as possible, as the ranger Hait heads to the right, to a hole in an alcove, or grotto in the cave.
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman ducks down to enter the alcove in the cave, while Dorkindle remains out in the cave propper.
The mercenary ranger who is infact a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, who just happens to inhabit the body of Riley Hait. Takes a hold of something and starts to drag it across the sandy floor of the cave.
"Dorc, pull that out" says the human ranger who was raised and trained by some of the elven warders of his homeland, the principality of Envadarlen.
The large ork grunts and bends down, and reaches into the grotto. And grabs the chest the ranger Hait was pulling along the cave floor.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, who killed said matriarch, and wears her skull tied to his thick, waist belt, that keeps his grubby, knee length pants up, and not around his ankles.
Says "Loot" with a grin upon his broad, feral looking face as he easily picks up the chest. The ranger Hait nods his head yes when he comes out of the grotto, then he says "It is indeed".
The chest is one of the strongboxes that they, the group as a whole, took from the tower of lord Haldéilv. When they were in the elven principality of Maladimbáh during the summertime.
Now the mercenary ranger has decided to take it back to Maladimbáh, though from a suggestion given by lord Farque in the orders he had sent to them at the beginning of last week.
The Southlander says to the large ork from the southern polar region of the world "We're going to take it back to Maladimbáh" in response to the ork weaponsmith asking him "What we gonna do with this fucken loot?".
"Fucken why?" asks Dorkindle, who then grunts and murmurs "Ah" in understanding, when Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson quietly tells him "Every army needs archers".
Dorc da Orc ties the heavy strongbox to his weapon harness, and it bounces against his rear end as he walks, following the ranger Hait up and out of the cave where the warleader of the ork race spent a fair bit of time during the summer. As it offered him shade from the blistering sunshine that pounds down upon the dry, arid plains where the nomad tribes make their home.
The two of them make their way back to the nearby camp, and after getting a few supplies. Much of which is more fermented ewe's milk for the ork weaponsmith to drink as they travel to the northeast to Maladimbáh.
They head off in the direction of the elven principality. As they walk that way, Dorkindle asks the mercenary ranger "Think any of them fucken pointy ears will wanna fight them justy-friers in belly sway?".
Riley Hait tries to suppress a grin, and fails to after hearing what the ork weaponsmith just called the Justifiers, and the region they rule, Belinswae. And he tells the large ork "They might" the mercenary ranger then adds "Especially that lord Walashàele, especially after what happened during the summer, then his subsequent refusal of the offer by one of the Justifiers" he then adds "Any noble, either elven or human, don't exactly like being second best".
The ork warleader grunts then mutters "Well he fucken better come along, cause Dorc wanna kill some cunts soon" the prospect of waiting even longer to attack the city of Falnic, doesn't sit well with the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
For the ranger Hait, he knows that the coastal city of Falnic is probably already getting the war it's residents thought they were far from, and definitely safe from.
From lord Farque's missive, Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, who is in the largest city of the region of Belinswae, has by Riley's reckoning, probably picked up his attacks against the Justifiers and their supporters.
The elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands is no doubt creating havoc in the coastal city by now. And hopefully creating panic amongst the populace, who thought the war against the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills would never touch them.
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman also knows that what he and Dorc da Orc plan to do. With a gathering of an army of nomad tribesmen, who after untold centuries, are finally going to do what many of them have thought about doing for years and years. Attack the townsmen of Belinswae, who for generations, have tried to systematically wipe them out.
Along, with hopefully an army of elven house guards from the principality of Maladimbáh, no doubt mostly archers. Will attack the city of Falnic by surprise.
Well that's the plan anyway, Riley Hait thinks to himself as he and the large ork walk across the dry and arid plains, heading north, and slightly east to the elven principality that lies to the north of the Nomad's Plains.
They eat their midday meal on the walk, which is fine by Dorc da Orc, who is used to such things. Not so the ranger Hait, who though is adept at eating on horseback. But eating whilst walking, is a slightly different prospect. And is something he's never been too keen on over the years.
They continue walking through the afternoon, and into the early evening. Until it gets quite cold, and the mercenary ranger has to stop for some well earned rest.
They stop at an empty camp site for one of the nomad tribes. They both hop down into one of the cuttings in the ground. And in the fairly narrow defile, the ranger Hait wraps himself up in his cloak and blanket as it gets bitterly cold overnight in the wintertime here in the Nomad's Plains, and tries to keep some sleep after he has a cold meal for dinner.
Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson wakes in the middle of the night to hear Dorc da Orc grunting, as he picks him up saying "Nuff fucken sleep pretendy Zubu" and he's slug over the right shoulder of the large ork, who also picks up the mercenary ranger's pack.
The ranger from south of the equator, who though half asleep, guesses that the ork warleader hasn't slept at all. And doesn't need to as he sets off again, heading north to Maladimbáh, with the wrapped up ranger Hait over his broad, right shoulder like one of his sacks containing his possessions.
The Southlander doesn't particularly care to be so close to the ork warleader who more than reeks. Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman gives silent thanks to the tundra gods that it's winter at the moment. For during the summertime, Dorkindle does more than reek, he flat out pongs. Smelling like the worst kind of damp dung you can imagine.
The human ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands, is also glad he's over the shoulder of Dorkindle. And not sitting in the crook of his arm, as Tamric Drubine used to sit when the nobleborn youngster was smaller.
Nor is he tucked up under an arm of the large ork, as Dorc da Orc's pet pig Piggy, used to be carried around. The ranger Hait breathes a sigh of relief as he isn't going to be carried around like Dorkindle's now dead pet pig, was once carted around.
Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson eventually falls back to sleep listening to the large ork murmuring away in his own language, while cackling about something, of what, the mercenary ranger has no idea, and doesn't want any idea of.
Riley Hait wakes when Dorkindle drops him on the ground after sun up, and says "Wake up cunt" followed by "You can fucken walk now". After unwrapping himself from his blanket, and then having something to eat and drink. The mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen gets up, and gets underway again, walking beside the large ork who is busy drinking more of the fermented ewe's milk.
They travel like that throughout the day, and through the night, with Dorc da Orc once again carrying the sleeping ranger Hait.
It's the middle of the next morning when Dorkindle tells Riley Hait that he can see the hills and trees of southern Maladimbáh. By early afternoon, the mercenary ranger from the Southlands sees it too.
And by the following morning, they're in the fairly mountainous principality.
"East" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, when they go over a hill, and see a familiar landmark in a heavily forested valley, that's backed on it's north side by a range of mountains. Peaks that are dry in the summertime, but now in winter, they're topped by snow.
"Not north" grunts Dorc da Orc as they look at the tor that sticks up out of the forest floor, a tor on top of which sits the tower of house Haldéilv.
Wondering who is residence there now, and guessing that lord Walashàele has put someone there who is an ally, or more likely a family member. The ranger Hait who gestures further east, says "We'll go into the lands of house Walashàele" he continues with "I'll bet the lord there will definitely listen to what we have to offer" he then silently adds, and that we'll pay him with the gold of his rival that he vanquished, will be pretty fucking ironic.
The two from south of the equator head down into the valley, and head east in the direction of the lands of house Walashàele, where they hope to obtain the service of elven house guards, for the army they're raising to attack the city of Falnic in Belinswae . . . . . .
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