The Hire 27.

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

The army has come to a stop, and Dorc da Orc along with Teabagger the goblin Cunt make their way forward through the rain that's turned into a drizzle throughout the day.
The large ork isn't pleased that it's still raining. But he is pleased that he's wearing the poncho that some of the goblins made him, and gave to him yesterday.
The big, burly ork who resembles the side of a tent at the moment. Grunts and growls, so that those on the road infront of them get out of the way.
The soldiers in the armies of the robber barons Almard and Larimer are quick to get out of the way of the ork warleader and the small, bright green goblin who is the commander of the goblin battalion in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
The soldiers move anyway, as the order comes down the line to fall out. And after Dorkindle sniffs a few times in the direction he and Teabagger are heading. The ork weaponsmith grunts in understanding.
"What is it general?" asks Teabagger the goblin Cunt, a name that was given to him by the large ork, when he first met him over a decade ago in the kingdom of Melaurn.
"The fucken enemy" is the reply from Dorc da Orc, who seeing that Teabagger is about to ask him something else. He quickly tells the small, bright green goblin "Now fuck up, your general has got some importants fucken thinking to do".
Teabagger glances sideways at the big, burly ork. And lifts a rather sceptical looking eye ridge.
As he's of the opinion that the general doesn't do a lot of thinking about anything. Let alone anything important.
Though for all that, Teabagger along with the rest of the battalion of goblins in the Farqian mercenary army. Will follow their general anywhere, and do anything he asks of them.
True, it might be more than a little dangerous. That's putting it lightly. But whatever the large ork does. They've been successful, and have never lost a battle that he has led them in.
Dorkindle sourly smiles, as up ahead through the drizzle, he spots the heavily armoured knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic with Tamric Drubine, Helbe the elven thief, and other senior officers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
The big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world. Sees that they've been joined by the robber barons Almard and Larimer, along with their seconds.
"I can see them general" says Teabagger, who continues with "The enemy".
"I know cunt" says the warleader of the ork race, who then adds "Now fuck up" as they approach the others who are at the crest of a small hill.
The land to the south, isn't at all hilly. And is predominantly farmland. Some of the most sought after farmland in northern Phelm, which isn't exactly abundant with such land, due to the foothills of the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains.
And in the distance, less than two miles away. Is an enemy army.
Their battlelines, and behind that, their warcamp. An army that's significantly larger than the one that's led by the young field commander Tamric Drubine.
Helbe the elven thief looks over at Dorc da Orc who joins them. The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel knows that with one quick look, the ork warleader will make a quick, and accurate assessment of the situation.
Stepping away from the others, the elven magic user stands beside the large ork, and the small, bright green goblin who commands the goblin battalion within the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
"What do you think Dorc?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief, who like the ork weaponsmith, and the goblin commander, can easily see the enemy in the distance through the drizzle. Unlike the humans who are nearby.
"They got fucken more than us, that's for fucken sure" says the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, who continues with "More fucken cattypoles and trebbieshays too" then he adds in a mutter "Better fucken ground too, the cunts".
The elven masterthief who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, nods his hooded head in agreement with the big, burly ork who is originally from the bottom of the world.
The two of them, who have known one another for nearly fifteen years, quietly discuss things. While the silent Teabagger listens on.
After they've talked about things, the elven master assassin tells the warleader of the ork race "You better listen to what Tam has to say" prince Helbenthril Raendril continues with "Then suggest what you think we should do".
The large ork grunts at that, then he waves a big, meaty hand in the direction of the enemy, and says "The first thing we can fucken do, is for you to go over there and kill whoever the fuckhead is who in charge of them cunts".
"I intend to" says the elven magic user, the ork weaponsmith grunts in satisfaction to that, then he mutters "Good".
Then Dorkindle, along with Teabagger, make their way over to the others who are discussing the situation they're in.
While Helbe the elven thief waits off to one side, for Narladene the ground pixie to return from checking out the enemy army.
The ork warleader stands behind Tamric Drubine, and listens to the field commander explain things to the others.
The big, burly ork who still to this day, is the largest member of the wolf tribe of orks. Occasionally grunts, or nods his head, or scowls as he listens to the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Explains how their scouting patrols, have already run into, and fought similar patrols from duke Hargen's army.
He assumes, correctly as it turns out. That the enemy probably knows the size of the army led by the young field commander in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Then the son of a former knight of castle Drubine in northern Sarcrin points out where they should make camp. And where there should set up their battlelines. For it seems inevitable that they'll have a pitched battle against the enemy, as apparently there's a large town. The largest in the north of the duchy of Phelm. Not all that far south from where the duke's army have dug in.
Glancing back behind him, Tamric Drubine asks "What do you think Dorc?".
The ork warleader grunts, then he grins as he spots the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, sir Percavelle Lé Dic looking at him, with a rather sour look upon his face. The ork weaponsmith then says "Fucken good enough".
Then Dorkindle points and says "But have the lines start fucken there" then he points to where the young field commander pointed out where their battlelines should be, and he adds "Instead of starting fucken there".
Tam nods his head, and doesn't question the reason why, and says to his subcommander and others of his senior staff "See to it".
The nobleborn teenager, looks over at the robber barons, Almard and Larimer. And says to the two of them "If you could assist my officers with your armies setting up things, I'd appreciate it".
The two robber barons, who usually complain about anything, and everything. Are for once, agreeable and tell the field commander in the Farqian mercenary army, that they'll assist as much as they can.
They've seen the size of the enemy army that faces them across the farmland to the south. And they've realised the difficulty, and the enormity of the task ahead of defeating duke Hargen's army.
As the falling drizzle lightens, so much so, that it's now like a mist. They move off to do as the young field commander has ordered.
The only ones still standing upon the crest of the rise, are Tamric Drubine, Dorc da Orc and Teabagger the goblin Cunt. As well as sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
While Helbe the elven thief stands off to one side, where he's still waiting for Narladene the ground pixie to return. He doesn't have to wait long, as the tiny winged creature, who has only made herself visible to him. Lands upon the right shoulder of the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel.
"What did you find out?" quietly murmurs prince Helbenthril Raendril in the elven language. The ground pixie replies in the same language, explaining to him what she found out whilst going through the enemy camp, and their battlelines.
The elven master assassin is silent as the naturally magical creature explains to things, he only says something when Narladene the ground pixie quietly tells him in the elven language "Take a guess who's over there amongst the enemy?".
"Some of our spies?" quietly asks the highly talented elven magic user, the ground pixie who is 'attached' to him, nods her tiny head, and says "Dalin".
The elven masterthief nods his hooded head, then murmurs "Who?" in response to the naturally magical creature saying to him "You won't believe who he's with over there".
The tiny winged creature, who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains "Remember those two dwarven cousins, the one's we first saw in". Narladene then explains to the elven princeling about Shawtus and Smawfri McQuade who like her, are from the Sunreach Mountains. Who are with the squad that Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy has joined as he's infiltrated duke Hargen's army.
The elven masterthief winces, then he glances over to where Dorc da Orc is talking with Tamric Drubine "Oh hell" mutters the young elven noble.
Who as he's about to say something to Narladene, the ground pixie looks quickly to the north, and says in a surprised tone "Hey that's".
Just then, the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel hears a voice within in his mind. It's vaguely familiar. And it takes a few moments for him to recognise who it is. The elven magic user silently responds to it.
I'll be there as soon as possible. Is the response via mindspeech by Helbe the elven thief.
He then looks over at Tamric, Dorc, Teabagger and Percy, and says in the common language "Tam I'll be back shortly".
After the young field commander nods, Narladene grabs a hold of the right shoulder of the elven spellcaster as she senses what he's about to do.
The shielded elven noble, disappears in the drizzle like mist as he shifts away. Not south towards the enemy army, but northwards.
It takes him a handful of shifts, but eventually he ends up on a hilltop, about three miles further north of the very rear of the army that Tamric Drubine leads, and has brought down from the unruled lands to the north of the kingdom of Nastell, into the duchy of Phelm.
The elven princeling looks down behind the hill, at the krean strikeship the  Fídiablo. And he waves to the senior navigator, Nienub. Who is on the flat deck of the sleek looking mastless airship, who got in contact with him via mindspeech.
After the krean spellcaster waves back, the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel turns to those standing to his right.
"Something important?" asks Helbe the elven thief in the royal elven language, much to the disappointment of Narladene, who can't understand that particular language.
"Maybe" says lord Farque in the same language, who stands there with the senior wardog handler Jessup, the scout Dargaven, and the wardog Hammer. The undead, like Helbe the elven thief, and Narladene as well. Are all looking to the south, where the two armies. One from the unruled lands, led by Tamric Drubine and his senior staff in the mercenary army from the lands Farque. The other one, being part of the overall army of the duchy of Phelm.
"First of, how's things there?" asks the undead warlord as he points south to where the two armies are facing off against one another, separated by less than two miles of farmland.
The heavily armoured deathlord as well as the undead wardog handler, and the undead scout listen in silence as the elven master archer explains how things fare.
After the elven master assassin does, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque nods his full helmed head, then says "Let Tam do as much as possible" followed by "And make sure he listens to that fat idiot Dorc".
"I will" says prince Helbenthril Raendril who knows lord Farque and the other undead, will only intervene if necessary. For the most part, they'll be with the Fídiablo, taking out an enemy airships that might attack the airships in the fleet of the robber barons, as well as the others that have come north from the lands Farque with the krean strikeship.
"What brings you here?" asks the elven masterthief "It's time for them to pay up again" says the heavily armoured deathlord in reference to the robber barons Almard and Larimer.
The lord of the death realm glances at the nobleborn elf from the principality of Laerel, and says to him "Make sure they pay up" followed by "If not, have Tam withdraw our forces with their two armies, and leave them to deal with the duke's army by themselves".
Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head to that. He knows it might be a bit harsh on the robber barons if they don't pay each instalment for the hire of the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
But that was part of the agreement of hire, that he as the envoy of the Farqian mercenary army, helped negotiate with the five robber barons of the unread lands of the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains, in their war against the duke of Phelm, duke Hargen.
There's a few moments of silence as they all look to the south through the misty drizzle, at the armies that are now facing off against one another.
Then the undead being, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, quietly says "Also" he briefly pauses, then continues on with "Lis is missing".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril looks sharply at the lord of the death realm, and asks him "Is she".
"I'm not sure" says the undead warlord as he interrupts the elven magic user who was about to ask if Lisell Maera was alive or dead.
The elven masterthief then says "Well, is anyone looking for her?".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque nods his full helmed head yes, then says "Axe" . . . . . .