The Hire 73.

The Duchy Of Phelm...

"Boss er general" says Teabagger the goblin Cunt "Some of the scouts are coming back" adds the small, bright green goblin who is the commander of the battalion.
A rather miserable looking Dorc da Orc, who is suffering in the heat of another hot day here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell. Just grunts in reply to the goblin commander.
Teabagger, who feels a little sorry for the large ork, suggests to him they stop and wait in the shade of a large tree that's just off to the side of the road.
The ork warleader who is the general of the battalion of goblins in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, grunts once more.
And after the goblin commander calls for the battalion to halt and fall out. The two of them make their way to the nearby tree.
As they do, Teabagger who is following the big, burly ork from the southern polar region. Wryly smiles as he looks at the large ork. Who would at least be a little bit more comfortable if he took his poncho off.
But the ork weaponsmith refuses to, as he insists it will rain again sometime.
The small, bright green goblin glances up at the clear, bright blue sky, that once again has very few clouds going across it. And slightly shakes his head, as the possibility of rain anytime soon is a long shot to say the least.
They stand beneath the branches of the tree, where the ork warleader actually takes the hood of his poncho off his head.
The large ork who hails from the very bottom of the world of Volunell. Breathes a sigh of relief, and shakes out his dyed, dreadlocked topknot as they look south along the road, and wait for the scouts to return.
The scouts are those who can keep to their feet the most, and are less accident prone than any of the other goblins in the battalion.
That's basically the only requirement for being a scout in the goblin battalion. Because anyone of them could do if they were in need.
It's just that some, and in some, that would be few. Goblins are less clumsy than the rest. Especially when they get excited about something.
After wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his right arm, Dorc da Orc says "Who them cunts?" as he looks to the south and spots a couple of the scouts returning.
"Assdick" says Teabagger the goblin Cunt, who can't help but grin as he adds "And Flower".
The large ork chuckles at the name of that goblin, as he's renamed all the goblins in the battalion. All of them either swear words, variations of swear words, or something demeaning in some way.
With the exception of Flower, as he thought a goblin named Flower is about ridiculous as you can get. Especially a goblin who is a dark, almost black green. Who is almost man height. Well, as tall as a short man. As goblins are a short race, rarely ever finding one who stands over five and half foot tall.
The two scouts spot their general and their commander standing beneath the branches of a large tree off to the side of the road. The two of them hurry over to Dorkindle and Teabagger.
"General" says Flower the goblin, who continues with "One of our advanced patrols has stopped a couple of miles up ahead".
"It's commander Parsen and his cavalry" adds Assdick, who is a more regularly looking goblin. Standing around five foot tall, who is a green colour the shade of grass. Well, not the grass here, as it's rapidly turning brown here in northern Nastell under the hot summer sun.
The warleader of the ork race grunts when he hears that. As he knows that his battalion, is out infront of the army led by field commander Drubine, who is the first of the following armies.
But he and his goblin battalion are trailing the advanced elements, and forward patrols. Like the cavalry one led by the councilor Darid Parsen.
"Bet that fucken loud mouthed knight cunt is with pretendy Zubu" mutters Dorc da Orc in his native language, the big burly ork who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, then switches to his heavily accented common, then says "Come on then, let's get fucken movin' and see why them cunts have stopped".
They make their way back onto the road, and soon the goblin battalion in the Farqian mercenary army are on the move again, heading south along the road that's taking them deeper into the duchy of Phelm, the northern most duchy in the kingdom of Nastell.
It's after midday when they spot the cavalry patrol led by commander Darid Parsen off to one side of the road, under a line of trees, that are along the front of some farmer's field.
The farm, like a lot of them they've passed as they've made their way into what's basically now the central region of Phelm. Is empty, as the farmers and their stock, have all gone further south into the duchy. To get away from the advancing armies of the robber barons of the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains, who are commanded by the Farqian mercenary army.
The big, burly ork, who at over seven and half foot tall, and weighing in excess of seven hundred and fifty pounds. Who is still the largest member of the wolf tribe of orks.
Grunts as he spots commander Parsen and others further up the road, where it goes up a hill. The ork weaponsmith sourly smiles as he sees that the knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic is one of those with the cavalry commander.
The ork warleader glances away to his right at the farm, and wondered if they grazed sheep or goats there. Both of which he finds sexually attractive. Especially goats.
And as the voice of his 'Mother' admonishes him, and calls him a dirty goat fucker. The worst insult imaginable to an ork.
The ork general tells Teabagger to have the battalion stop, and fall out. To join the cavalry company beneath the line of the trees.
As they do, the battalion's general and their commander, head up the road where the group are upon the hill.
"Ah sir" says Kalleb the second in command of the cavalry patrol, who then adds "We've got company".
Looking at Kalleb who nods back down the road behind them, commander Darid Parsen turns then mutters "Hell" when he sees who it is that's walking up the road.
Great, fucking both of them now, the cavalry commander sourly thinks to himself, who glances over to where sir Percavelle Lé Dic is standing. Who has yet to notice who it is that's walking up the road towards them.
The member of lord Farque's personal council looks over at Shur Kee the monk. Who unlike the former paladin. Has spotted who is walking this way.
The short, statured monk in the strange white clothing, an the even stranger looking conical shaped hat. Looks his way, after glancing towards the heavily armoured knight.
The acolyte in the order of Bru Li just shrugs his shoulders, and holds out his hands as to say, what could possibly go wrong.
The cavalry commander, who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Darid Parsen, rolls his eyes.
Then next to him, Lisell Maera says "What is it?". The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, who is now a messenger in the armies of Farque. Turns and looks back down the road.
And when she spots who it is that's waking up the hill, she guffaws in an most unlady like way.
"Oh this is going to be entertaining" says Lisell Maera in the elven language after she glances towards the former earl of Lé Dic who has still yet to spot who is walking towards them from back down the road.
"And why the hell is he still wearing that poncho?" mutters the messenger who is actually part of the scouts and rangers division in the  Farqian mercenary army.
Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman just shakes his head, then he faintly winces as from down the hill, comes the oh so familiar and growling, not to mention loud voice, say "Who let that dumb fucken knight cunt here?".
His eyes go wide at hearing the familiar voice of his rival from down the road behind him. Then sir Percavelle Lé Dic spins around saying in his overly loud, as well as pompous voice "I thought i could smell the stench of walking dung!".
"And lo and behold, who is that i see?" says the heavily armoured knight, who is a nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic "The green shitpile with legs himself!" adds the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che.
"Oh hell, here we go" says Kalleb the second in command in the elven language, who truth be told. Is rather pleased the ork warleader Dorc da Orc has turned up. For the simple reason that it will bug sir Percavelle no end. As the former earl of Lé Dic has been more than a little annoying over the last few days since he's joined them.
"You see that you little cunt?" says Dorc da Orc to Teabagger walking beside him "Old sir Fuckface the Asshat is here" adds the big, burly ork who really doesn't like the ordered knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
"Can't trust them enemies to do fucken anything" says the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks who continues with "Think one of them fuckers would of shoved a sword in that cuntheads fat fucken mouth".
"Fat?" loudly mutters the former knight of the first class "Who is that beast calling fat?" adds sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a mutter.
Then the uncle of the current lady of the Lé Dic fief in eastern Druvic calls out to the large ork walking this way "Oh that is something indeed coming from such an obese, fornicating porcine as yourself beast!".
"Huh?" mutters Dorkindle with a confused look upon his normally angry, not to mention feral looking face.
"What the fuck that dumb cunt just call me?" asks the big, burly ork as he looks down at the small, bright green goblin walking beside him, as they head up the road to where the group are at the top of the hill.
"Ah, he just called you a fat fucking pig" says Teabagger the goblin Cunt, who then adds "Boss, er general".
"The fuck?" angrily mutters the ork warleader, who then adds "Me not fat".
The goblin commander looks sideways at his general, and holds his tongue, and doesn't say anything to that.
While the ork weaponsmith, who once again is looking back up the hill, scowls once more, then calls out "Fuck you, you silly fucken knight!" followed by "How 'bout me chop off that stupid fucken head of yours when me get up there cunt".
"Do you mind?" dryly says Darid Parsen in elven to Lisell Maera who has started giggling as the shouting match between sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Dorc da Orc, well and truly gets underway.
"I say let them go for it" says Kalleb in the same language, the second in command of the cavalry company continues with "Least it'll give us something to watch as we wait".
"Don't you fucking start as well" mutters Darid aka Zubutai Timaginson at his second, who just grins at his commander.
The member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, looks over at the former paladin and loudly tells him "Percy be quiet why don't you!".
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic who has just called the approaching ork an uneducated steaming cesspool of waste, who could really do to put himself on a diet. Looks over at the cavalry commander with a look of disappointment on his face. Though he does fall silent.
Then after Teabagger the goblin Cunt has just explained that sir Percavelle just called him a dumb, smelly shit who should lose some weight.
Dorkindle who is about to yell something in reply, shuts his mouth when Darid Parsen shouts at him "Dorc fuck up!" followed by "If not, I'll tell you know who!".
"Fucken prick" mutters the big, burly ork in his native language, who then adds in a plaintive tone "Why you gotta fucken rat me out like that?".
The ork general and the goblin commander get to the top of the hill where the group are standing. And though Dorc da Orc briefly growls at the former earl of Lé Dic, he then ignores him.
As for the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, after he mutters under his breath about suddenly, something being rather putrid smelling around here. He ignores the ork warleader who is his rival.
"Why you fucken stop?" asks the large ork when he gets to councilor Parsen "Ya pony fucker" adds the ork weaponsmith in a loud mutter, which the cavalry commander clearly hears.
After sourly smiling at hearing that, though glad, for now at least. That Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic aren't arguing with one another.
Darid aka Zubutai the son of Timagin turns and points and tells the big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world "My lead scout and others are closely checking it out" he continues with "The following armies will probably stop there later tonight".
The ork general grunts as he looks at the fairly large town of Manlin about quarter of a mile away further south along the road.
"It's been abandoned in a hurry" explains the cavalry commander who less than a year and a half ago, was a foot soldier in the army of lady Linara Lé Dic in the kingdom of Druvic, until he died in battle. The same battle that the previous body Zubutai the barbarian hordesman was in. That being Riley Hait the mercenary ranger, also died.
"You might still be able to see some of the townsfolk fleeing south in the distance" says the cavalry commander who then adds "Some of the other forward elements have gone ahead to clear the road of them".
The large ork grunts as in the distance, where the road cuts through farmland and pastures that are usually green, but are now turning brown in the summer heat.
He sees people getting off the road, as mounted forward elements of the Farqian mercenary army continue on their way southwards through what is central Phelm.
"Gonna be fucken busy as shit when we get to where they goin' to make a fucken stand and fight us again" muses Dorc da Orc, Darid Parsen nods his head in agreement with that astute assessment from the warleader of the ork race . . . . . .