The Hire 6.

The Main Camp. The Southern Reaches. Unruled Lands...

With a shrug of his shoulders, Mira Reinholt the mage says "None of them are exactly happy" the once powerful mage continues with "Especially not Larimer and Almard".
"It's to be expected" says Helbe the elven thief as he looks around at the others who are gathered in this part of the pavilion, that's affixed to the port side of the krean strikeship Fídiablo that's moored to the ground in a clearing at the northern end of the valley where the main camp is located.
The mage Reinholt slightly nods his uncovered head, then says "I guess so" then the spellcaster who is in exile from his homeland of Vexil adds in a slightly dry tone "If we win them a victory, I'd hate to see the aftermath if the king of Nastell declares this area a new duchy".
"They'll fight amongst themselves for it no doubt" says Tamric Drubine who speaks what they're all thinking. The young field commander in the armies of Farque continues with "That's whoever amongst them survives the campaign against duke Hargen".
The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin briefly pauses before he dryly adds "That's if they continue to actually pay us".
"There is that" murmurs the mage who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who then glances over at the elven magic user, and asks him "They'll still pay won't they?".
"Seems like they will" is the reply of the young elven noble who is the envoy between the mercenary army from the lands Farque, and the five robber barons of the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains.
Who have hired them to take part in their war against duke Hargen of Phelm, in northern Nastell.
The agreement between the robber barons and the mercenary army from the lands Farque. Is that the mercenary army of nearly six thousand, is to be paid the set amount agreed upon, every second week, until the campaign is either won or lost.
They as mercenaries, are also allowed to take from the enemy dead that they've killed.
"Though I'm sure both Larimer and Almard would like to find any excuse not to hand over the next payment" says the elven envoy who constantly read the minds of the robber barons and their seconds as they met with them a short time ago.
Mira Reinholt, thinking more like the elven assassin sitting across from him at the table, quietly says "Maybe we could get rid of those two" the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil continues with "After all accidents do happen in battle all the time".
The elven noble from the island principality of Laerel lifts a questioning eyebrow, then he along with the rest of them around the table looks to the partition in the pavilion.
After a few moments it parts, and the undead scout Dargaven steps through and shakes his head no, then says "Let fate decide their deaths".
The undead being then adds "You won't always be able to get rid of allies who you disagree with. So it's best to learn now to get along with those such as them" Dargaven continues with "Besides, that will be two of them who won't be paying the army. Unless someone else quickly steps up to take their places".
The undead scout steps back, and as he closes the partition he says "As my lord wills it". The partition to the section of the pavilion that the trio of undead. Dargaven, Jessup the senior wardog handler, and lord Farque himself are sequestered in, closes.
"It was worth asking" says Mira Reinholt, who along with prince Helbenthril Raendril, are two of the members of lord Farque's recently named personal council, who are present.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere within the Southlands, then says to those seated around the table "Well, lets see how things stand then".
They all get up, and look at the table, part of which is covered with maps, and another part is covered with a relief map, that's actually an illusion.
Showing precisely a miniature version of the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains, along with the foothills, that extend down into the northern region of the kingdom of Nastell, which includes the duchy of Phelm.
The fixed illusion has been cast by one of the krean navigators from the Fídiablo, who is present with the captain of the strikeship, captain Kalrisian. Along with the commander of the detachment of air marines who are assigned to the vessel from the Krean Protectorate in northern Farque.
Also in attendance around the table in this part of the pavilion. Are two other field commanders alongside Tamric Drubine. Both of whom are native Farqians.
One is Talbot, who is from near the Summer Palace in the lands Farque. He specifically commands the heavy foot within the mercenary army. And it shows. As he wears heavy plate armour, and has a massive hammer strapped to his back.
Standing next to the large figure of Talbot. Is the diminutive figure of Leivyn. A fine boned, striking looking woman in her early twenties. Who has command of the scouts and rangers in the mercenary army that's come from the lands Farque, to help the robber barons of the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains in their war against duke Hargen, the duke of Phelm.
Standing with them is Tovis the war engineer, who is in command of the engineers corp. Next to him is the sorcerer Larris, who has been assigned to the war engineer's corp.
There's a handful of others around the map table. Including the admiral of the fleet. And most importantly, general Halvane. Who is the senior military figure present since one of lord Farque's personal council isn't present at the moment.
"So" says envoy Helbenthril Raendril, who looks at the trio of field commanders, Tamric, Talbot and Leivyn then general Halvane before he adds "What do you say?".
From then on, the elven princeling, and the once powerful mage are mostly silent as they listen to the others discuss what they've already done, and what they plan to do.
For the most part, it's mainly the general and the three field commanders who do most of the talking as it's their combined plans that the mercenary army from the lands Farque, along with the armies of the five robber barons and the other mercenaries they've hired, will undertake.
Occasionally one of the others will chime in about something. But for the most part it's the general, and his three field commanders who do most of the talking.
As the field commander Leivyn is discussing the reports from the spies across the border in the duchy of Phelm, and what they've been up to.
Narladene the ground pixie lands upon the right shoulder of Helbe the elven thief and whispers to him "Stinky and Shur Kee are coming down from the hills to the north" the tiny winged creature who hails from the Sunreach Mountains continues in a whisper with "They'll be here in camp soon, probably around midday or the early afternoon".
The young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, who now holds the position his great uncle Quinid Raendril, the elven sage once held on the personal council of the last lord of Farque, four and half centuries ago.
Slightly nods his head, then almost winces as he realises something. There's quite a few dwarves in the armies of the robber barons, from clans further north in the mountain range. As well as dwarven mercenaries they've hired from elsewhere.
Dorc da Orc who took off north into the higher peaks to get away from the dry and hot conditions down here in the foothills.
Took off before the first of the clan dwarves arrived in the area. And the dwarven mercenaries the robber barons had hired. Were elsewhere before they congregated here in the valley where the main camp is located.
The elven masterthief glances over at the partition in the pavilion, where the trio of undead are. He figures that they'll deal with any looming situation between the ork warleader, and the dwarves within the armies of the robber barons.
They indeed do so, when a little later, the partition is slightly opened, and the undead scout Dargaven looks out, and looks at prince Helbenthril Raendril, and beckons him over with a nod of his head.
"The ork will be here soon" quietly says the undead scout who speaks in the royal elven language with prince Helbenthril Raendril "Best we go and have a word with him about certain things" adds Dargaven.
The elven master assassin glances inside the partition section of the pavilion and sees Jessup standing completely still in one corner. With the massive form of the undead wardog Hammer lying nearby.
Lord Farque himself is sitting upon a large chair, where he's being listening to what's being said in the other part of the pavilion after he briefly met with the five robber barons and their seconds a little earlier this morning.
The undead warlord briefly says something in the royal elven language, and the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nods in understanding.
Then Helbe the elven thief and Dargaven the undead scout make their way from the pavilion. Head around the moored strikeship Fídiablo. And start walking to the east.
They're soon out of the trees, occasionally passing black clad soldiers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque who are on sentry duty.
As they walk, the elven master archer who still has Narladene the ground pixie upon his right shoulder, quietly says to the undead scout walking beside him "Is this a good idea?".
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel, continues with "I know he's supposed to keep occupied, so he doesn't go around randomly murdering dwarves" he follows that with "But putting him together with them is a disaster waiting to happen".
"Possibly" says the undead being, who died nearly four and half centuries ago "But sometimes a disaster during a battle is something you actually want. Nothing like a whole lot of confusion during a battle to get things moving" adds Dargaven.
"I was thinking of more now, before they go into battle" dryly murmurs the elven princeling, which causes the undead scout to chuckle beneath his full helm.
"That's definitely a possibility to" says Dargaven, who then shrugs his shoulders to indicate what can he do about the situation.
"And i thought he was supposed to watch over Tam, and also look over the other two field commanders" says the elven masterthief "He'll do that as well" says the undead scout who died during the same battle as his lord.
"That's asking an awful lot of him, this is Dorc we're talking about after all" murmurs the highly talented elven magic user, with causes Dargaven to chuckle once more.
The undead scout then tells the young elven noble "He'll be fine your highness" he continues with "He wasn't named warleader of the orks by my lord for nothing".
I hope so, because i can see the potential for disaster before they even head south into battle, the elven master assassin thinks to himself, who starts heading up a trail that goes up one of the wooded hills, as the undead scout leads the way.
They get to the top of the hill and wait, as they do, Helbe the elven thief dons the hood of his cloak, and looks around.
He looks down to where the bulk of the mercenary army from the lands Farque is camped. They're to the northeast of the main camp of the robber baron's combined forces.
The elven magic user then turns and looks to the north, when Dargaven quietly says to him "Here they come".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril soon spots Dorc da Orc and Shur Kee the monk, along with the undead wardog Axe. As well as some of the soldiers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque heading down through the trees on the hill directly to the north.
Even from a few hundred yards away, the elven masterthief can see how miserable the large ork looks in the dry heat of the foothills here in the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains.
The massive figure of the undead wardog Axe takes off running, and is soon down the hill directly to the north, then up the hill that Helbe the elven thief, and Dargaven the undead scout are standing at the top of.
Axe doesn't even stop, though he does bark at them as he runs by, on his way down the otherside of the wooded hill, to the clearing below where his master waits.
As for the others, Dorkindle and Shur Kee and those soldiers with them, it takes them a little bit longer for them to climb up a trail that goes through the trees, up to where the elven envoy and the undead scout are waiting.
The elven princeling greets them when they finally make it up to the top of the hill. And though the short statured monk replies in his usual manner.
The big, burly ork just grunts as he draws in large breathes as he occasionally scowls up at the sun in the clear blue sky of midday.
Then he looks south across the valley below, to the main camp of the robber barons of the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains. And after he sniffs a few times, the scowl upon his broad, green brutish looking face deepens.
"The fuck" growls Dorc da Orc, who continues with "There's some of them little fucken cuntbags down".
He's interrupted by the undead scout Dargaven, who says to him "Warleader" in the language of the orks.
The large ork who was about to go off on a rant. Grunts as he's pulled up short as he's never really been addressed as the title that was bestowed upon him by lord Farque a number of years ago.
The big, burly ork looks at the undead scout, who switches to the common language and tells him "You are to report to your army, they're waiting for you" followed by "My lord wills it".
Though his scowl is replaced by a frown, the warleader of the ork race looks down to where Dargaven points to the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
"Sweet" murmurs Dorkindle, who then asks "All of 'em?".
The undead being rolls his eyes, then says "No" followed by "I said, your army" he definitely places an emphasis on the word "Your" when he said that.
"On the eastern fringe of my lord's army" adds Dargaven, that earns a muttered "Not north" from the ork weaponsmith.
Frowning, Dorc da Orc looks to where the undead scout has indicated. Then all of a sudden, both Helbe the elven thief and Shur Kee the monk see the eyes of the large ork go wide in surprise.
Then he purses his lips, which look like they're quivering. And eyes that were dry just moments before, are full of moisture now.
After knuckling an eye that threatens to spill tears, Dorkindle murmurs "Me army". He hasn't seen them for a number of years. Since he and the others in the group at the time, were in the elven principality of Alínlae, where they found the elven spy, Dalinvardél Tanith.
Now he sees his army on the edge of the mercenary army from the lands Farque. They've sent up camp just a short distance from the rest of the army from the lands Farque. And with good reason.
"Me army" says Dorc da Orc in a louder voice, who then grins from ear to ear, and takes off at a run down the hill. Forgetting all about the heat of the midday sun. And forgetting about the murderous thoughts he had towards the dwarves who are in the main camp of the robber barons further to the south in the valley.
He runs down the hill between the trees, as he heads towards the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Specifically to those tents on the eastern fringe of the deathlord of Farque's mercenary army.
The large ork as he runs can be heard by those on top of the hill, loudly chuckling to himself, and saying "Silly fucken gob-a-lins!" . . . . . .