The Hire 18.

The Kingdom Of Nastell. The Duchy Of Phelm...

"Stop staring at that damn fire" says a sergeant at arms as he walks by a group who are around one of the cook fires in camp.
"It'll wreck your night vision" adds the sergeant at arms, who has had to admonish a number of squads this evening, for doing the same thing, more than once in some instances.
The sergeant at arms is just about to tell the cooks to hurry up, and put the fire out, even though it's a cool night tonight. Especially in comparison to the hot days they've endured lately.
When all of a sudden there comes shouting from the perimeter line to the north of camp.
As everyone around the cook fire look in that direction, they quickly hear the sounds of weapons upon weapons.
"What the hell?" mutters the sergeant at arms as he realises what's happening, then he shouts "To arms!". Which is echoed by others throughout the camp.
"Move!" yells the sergeant at arms to those around the cook fire. He kicks out at a couple of them who are slow to get going.
The sergeant at arms then frowns as he hears yelling and shouting to the north, in a language he doesn't understand.
Though he thinks it sounds like the goblin language. As there's quite a few of them who live near the estate of his lord, in the very south of the duchy of Phelm.
Then the sergeant at arms who starts moving, suddenly freezes as he hears a blood curdling roar, that definitely doesn't come from the voice of a human, or a goblin for that matter.
He frowns again, as he's certain he hears over the sounds of fighting and shouting, someone yell "Get some!" in heavily accented common.
The sergeant at arms draws his sword, and gets moving. Moving north through the camp, shouting at the soldiers to get moving as they're under attack from the enemy.
Then from the light of a nearby camp fire, the sergeant at arms spots some fairly short figures running in this direction out of the darkness.
It takes him a moment to realise, as he's briefly in shock at seeing them. That they are indeed goblins.
The enemy have goblin soldiers, who would of thought it, the sergeant at arms thinks to himself in surprise.
Then he spots something large. Infact, he catches wind of it first. For the simple reason it stinks. Then he hears it, because it roars. The same roar he heard earlier. Though now that it's closer, it's a hell of a lot louder.
Then he finally sees it in the darkness, that's occasionally lit by nearby camp fires.
Whatever it is, it's large. Big and burly, easily over seven and half foot tall. He doesn't know how heavy it would be. But he figures it would be a lot.
And as he and other soldiers in camp run towards it and the smaller goblins. He's pretty sure it's green in colour.
He also sees it rear back, then throw something, shouting "Get some!" in heavily accented common, in a deep, growling voice.
Then the sergeant at arms is struck by something, that hits him in the chest, and flings him backwards through the air.
The sergeant at arms, who is dead before he hits the ground. Is one of the first casualties in the first major engagement in the war between the army of the duke of Phelm, duke Hargen.
And the forces of the robber barons of the unruled lands in the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains, to the north of the northern most duchy in the kingdom of Nastell.
The sergeant at arms whose lord is a vassal of duke Hargen. Might be one of the first to die in the major confrontations between the opposing sides of the war. He won't be last, especially not tonight.
As the war camp of one of duke Hargen's vassals, comes under attack not by any of the robber barons armies from the unruled lands to the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
But by a battalion within a mercenary army that the robber barons have hired. A mercenary army that is now in command of the robber barons campaign against duke Hargen of Phelm.
"Teabagger you dumbfuck get out the way" growls Dorc da Orc as the small, bright, green goblin trips up infront of him.
"I'm not Dumbfuck, he's over there" says Teabagger the goblin Cunt as he tries to get to his feet.
His general isn't listening to him. He's too busy grabbing the enemy spear that's about to skewer the bright, green goblin on the ground.
The large ork yanks the spear out of the hands of the enemy soldier in duke Hargen's army. Then with a punch, Dorkindle smashes in the face and front of the skull of the enemy soldier, who drops to the ground dead, falling on top of Teabagger who is trying to get up.
As the little goblin struggles to get out from beneath the dead enemy soldier lying on top of him.
His general has flung away the spear, sending it whipping through the air towards more of the enemy who are running from the tents in this direction.
Most of them don't see the spear that whacks into them, sending them to the ground.
"Dumbfuck" growls the ork warleader who grabs the dead body on top of Teabagger, and biffs it away. Then he grabs the small, bright, green goblin. Lifts him up, and stands him on his feet.
"Told you general, Dumbfuck is" says Teabagger, who falls silent when the big, burly ork growls at him and says "Fuck up".
"And fucken stay behind Dorc" adds the ork weaponsmith who hails from the southern polar region of the world.
Teabagger, who has never really been that good in combat. He's enthusiastic and willing, but that's about it. Scrambles around behind his general, though not too close, as the large ork reeks this night.
"Get 'em ya little gob-a-lin fucks!" calls out Dorc da Orc, who continues to make his way through the enemy camp.
The warleader of the ork race, who suggested to the young field commander Tamric Drubine. That he and his goblin army should attack the first decent sized amount of enemy the army came across.
At night too, which he and the goblins have an advantage over this particular force of the enemy, who are all human.
Stomps over a tent, bringing it down. He's followed by the commander of the goblin battalion in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, Teabagger.
Dorkindle looks away to the right, and sees one of the goblins with a bow. Letting off arrow after arrow from his weapon.
Arrows which surprisingly don't hit any of his fellow goblins. But hit the enemy. Dropping each and every single one of them to the ground.
Either with a fatal shot, or one that severely wounds it's target.
After grunting in surprise, the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks asks Teabagger "Hmmm is that cunt a fucken Deadeye?" as he gestures away to the right at the goblin archer.
"Yes general" is the reply if the goblin commander, who follows that up with "That's Deadeye the Seventh" Teabagger briefly pauses, before continuing with "Or eight" he then  adds "I'm not entirely sure".
"Fucken figures" mutters Dorc da Orc in his native language.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. A matriarch that he actually killed.
Kind of remembers the first Deadeye over a decade ago. As he named him, or renamed him to Deadeye. Like he did the rest of the original army of goblins that he took over in the kingdom of Melaurn.
And he recalls a Deadeye Five, or a Six. He's not entirely sure. Who he met in the elven principality of Alínlae.
"The fucker can shoot, that's for sure" murmurs Dorkindle in the ork language, then the ork warleader who takes a hammer from his weapon harness. Rolls his eyes, as Deadeye finally sends an arrow askew.
The yelp, and swearing in goblin is the indicator of who he hit. And the fact a rather dark green looking goblin goes running by hollering in pain, with a goblin fletchered shaft sticking out of his rear end.
The general of the army of nearly two hundred goblins, rolls his eyes, and mutters "Fucken gob-a-lins".
As he figures some of the casualties on their side tonight will be self inflicted. And not from the enemy, who number about three hundred in and around this camp they've set up not far from the border with the unruled lands north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Then warleader of the ork race slams his hammer down into the back of an enemy soldier, who has been wounded by one of the goblin soldiers. And is trying to crawl away between some of the tents.
The big, burly ork who hails from the bottom of the world, grins as he hears the snapping of the spine and back of the enemy soldier on the ground.
Dorc da Orc continues on his way, followed by Teabagger. As off to one side, flames rise up into the night sky as a fairly large tent is set on fire by one of the goblins. Who doesn't fight with weapons. But with a pair of burning torches, one in each hand.
"Who the fuck is that cunt over there trying to burn everything, and everyone?" asks the ork weaponsmith "Oh" says Teabagger, who then adds "That's Burns".
Burns has a tendency to set himself on fire at times, and anyone who happens to be near him, not just the enemy.
The goblin commander doesn't mention that to his general. Who is chuckling as he watches Burns, repeatedly smack an enemy soldier with one of his burning torches.
"Ha! Silly fucken gob-a-lin" chortles the large ork, who has decided he likes the goblin Burns.
With his hammer, the general of the goblin battalion within the mercenary army from the lands Farque. Points to a thick grouping of the enemy, some of whom, he sees are wearing heavy plate armour.
"Fucken knights" mutters Dorkindle, who then yells out to those goblins who are close by "Attack!".
Listening to their general, the goblins who are near him. Rush the large group of the enemy, who have moved back within their camp, and are trying to set up a defensive line.
The goblin soldiers, in all their miss matched armour, and using every type of weapon one can think of. Though they're all in the black tabbards of the armies of Farque.
Smash into the line of the enemy. Well, at least those of them who don't trip up. Either over themselves, or one another.
Dorc da Orc leaps over one of the goblins who has tripped over himself. And smashes into the enemy line. Immediately breaking it as he knocks down two of the enemy soldiers, and sending a third spinning away to the left, to eventually fall down.
The big, burly ork who was named warleader of his race a number of years ago by lord Farque.
Roars at the enemy, many of whom back away, or to be exact, scramble away from the seven and half foot tall, over seven hundred and fifty pound ork from the lands of the wolf tribe in the southern polar region of the world.
A large grin splits the broad, green feral looking face of the large ork as one of the enemy doesn't back away. But comes forward to meet his challenge.
It's a knight in a suit of full plate armour. Though he isn't wearing his helm, as he left it behind in his tent when he heard his army's war camp being attacked this night.
"Get some ya cunt!" shouts Dorc da Orc as he moves forward to confront the knight in the army of duke Hargen of Phelm. Behind the big, burly ork. Teabagger the goblin Cunt, with sword in hand. Is as always, ready to help his general.
Even though the ork weaponsmith would rather not have the small, bright, green goblin helping him at all.
"Well" quietly says Tamric Drubine, who after a pause adds "I take it things are going well?".
"Moderately so" is the reply of Helbe the elven thief as they listen to the sounds of combat in the night, somewhere further to the south of them.
The field commander of the army that has crossed over from the unruled lands into the duchy of Phelm in northern Nastell.
Gave Dorc da Orc the go ahead to attack the first substantial sized force of the enemy they come across.
And from where he leans against a tree just off to the side of the road. The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin can hear the fighting a couple hundred yards away to the south, between the battalion of goblins led by the ork warleader, and the enemy they've encounterd this night.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Looks sharply at the young elven noble who is standing near the next tree along.
"I thought you said you got rid of their spellcaster" hurriedly says commander Drubine after hearing an explosion in the night.
"I did" replies the elven magic user who hails from the island principality of Laerel. Then the elven masterthief nods his hooded head, then says "Ah" followed by "That's right" he continues with "The goblins have got some mage canisters".
The son of a former knight of castle Drubine in northern Sarcrin winces, then asks the elven princeling "How many?".
"A few" is the noncommittal reply from Prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel.
"Hells" mutters the nobleborn teenager who is a field commander in the armies of Farque.
"There goes another one" quietly says the highly talented elven spellcaster as they hear a loud thud in the distance. Then Tam murmurs "Huh would you look at that".
For in the distance to the south, they see something resembling blue sparks, but looking more liquid like, fountain up into the night sky for a few hundred feet above the trees, before it comes raining back down from where it came from.
"What's that?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine, who along with Helbe the elven thief, and a handful of scouts in the mercenary army from lands of Farque, who are nearby. Are out infront of the rest of the army, predominantly made up of the armies of the robber barons Almard and Larimer, which Tam leads.
"Water" says the young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, who after a brief pause adds "I think".
Dorc da Orc roars in anger as he's absolutely drenched. The large ork grabs Teabagger, who was knocked off his feet by the explosion. While a few of the other goblins, are regaining their feet after being swept away by the rather large explosion of water. Which knocked down everyone who was caught up in it, with the exception of the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
"Stop letting off those fucken magicky things!" yells Dorkindle who jumped in surprise when the first mage canister went off.
The large ork who is absolutely disgusted that he's soaked, growls then mutters "Where the fuck did they get those magicky things?".
Teabagger the goblin Cunt stays suspiciously silent on the matter. For his general didn't know that his battalion has a supply of mage canisters. Not to mention some other magical items the goblin commander hasn't told him about.
The ork weaponsmith wipes water from his face, and shake his head to get some of the water out of his top knot.
Then he sourly smiles as he figures the goblin who activated that mage canister is probably dead. For instead of activating it, and throwing it at the enemy, then getting out of the way.
It, like the first goblin who set of a mage canister. Activated it by twisting one end, then ran into a large group of the enemy.
"Fucken gob-a-lins" mutters Dorc da Orc, who then looks away to the right. To see the big, dark green goblin named Burns, well big for a goblin at five foot, eight inches tall.
Standing there crying as he looks at his two torches, that have been put out, and are totally ruined as they're water logged.
The big, burly ork from the bottom of the world rolls his eyes, then shouts out "Keep attacking them!" quickly followed by "But no more of those fucken magicky things ya cunts!".
"Fuck" mutters Dorkindle with a scowl upon his face as an instant after he shouted out that order.
A fiery red explosion occurs a couple hundred feet away towards the otherside of the enemy camp, when another of the goblins with a mage canister, a metal tube that's just over two foot in length. Activated it, and ran into a group of enemy soldiers who were trying to flee from the fighting.
The large ork rolls his eyes again, as a suddenly delighted Burns goes running by across the now soggy ground in this part of the camp.
Heading for the tents that have caught on fire due to the latest explosion.
"Get your fucken army under control" Dorc da Orc growls to Teabagger, the ork warleader continues "There's still more of these fucken cunts we gotta kills dead".
"But it's your army, you the general" says the small, bright green goblin.
"So" says the ork weaponsmith, who continues with "What the fuck is that gots to do with anything?" he then adds "Besides, you the fucken commander, so get to fucken commanding".
"Yes boss, i mean general" says Teabagger, who looks around, seeing many of his fellow goblin soldiers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, who were knocked down in the watery explosion, falling over and tripping as they try to stand.
Wanting to get things in order, Teabagger takes a step and immediately slips over on the sodden ground, and falls flat on his face.
Dorc da Orc rolls his eyes, sighs, then picks up the small, bright green goblin, and stands him up "Fucken gob-a-lins" mutters the big, burly ork in his native language . . . . . .