The Hire 101.

The City Of Almaic...

Stomping down upon the head of a wounded enemy soldier crawling through the trench, and shattering the man's skull apart. Dorc da Orc grunts, then says "Me smell smoke" as he sniffs at the air.
"Well, there's the burning pitch from the" is what Teabagger the goblin Cunt gets out before the large ork interrupts him with "Nah not that cunt" followed by "Me mean fucken smoke, smoke".
As the small, bright green goblin rolls his eyes, the ork warleader pops his head up out of the deep trench, and looks eastwards, the direction he can smell the smoke coming from.
Dorkindle grunts, then after getting shot in the side of the head by an enemy arrow, which harmlessly bounces off him. The ork weaponsmith says "Smoke on that fucken river".
The big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world takes a couple of moments to realise what that means. He grunts when he remembers what it signifies.
"That general" says the ork weaponsmith, who momentarily pauses before he continues on with "What's his fucken name?".
"Halvane" says a helpful Teabagger "Yeah that cunt" says Dorkindle, who then waves a big, meaty, skillet sized hand to the east, before adding "He must be gonna attack from fucken thataway".
The ork general, along with the goblin commander. Whose battalion has got the furthest ahead out of any of the forward elements attacking the enemy battlelines just north of the city of Almaic.
Look towards the top of the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
There one of the enemy catapults has just flung off a load of rocks and rubble.
Towards the forward elements of the army led by field commander Tamric Drubine. To be exact, towards where the ork general, and most of his battalion are in a trench amongst the enemy battlelines.
"Shit" mutters Dorc da Orc, who pushes Teabagger down, and yells out "Take cover you fucken gob-a-lin cunts!" as rocks and bits of broken masonry comes flying their way through the morning sky.
The warleader of the ork race pops down beneath the level of the trench, and shoves the face of another of the goblins in the dirt, to keep him down.
Rocks and bits of rubble hit in and around the trench. Missing most of the battalion. Apart from one who was too slow to get into the trench. Who is hit in the right leg by a rock, breaking the leg.
While another, one of the taller of the goblins, stuck his head out of the top of the trench to see what was happening.
He lost his head when a large piece of broken masonry slammed into his face and neck. Taking his head off.
"Fucken gob-a-lin" mutters Dorc da Orc as he looks away to the right at the headless goblin about twenty yards away, whose body is sitting down, propped up against the back of the trench.
Then the big, burly ork who hails from the very bottom of the world, hauls Teabagger and the other goblin he was holding down, up to their feet. And calls out "Get that fucken cunt back to the healers!". As the goblin with the shattered leg is screaming in pain.
He's carried away by two others in the battalion. Who head back with him to the army led by field commander Tamric Drubine. An army that's now on the march. As they follow after their advanced elements. Who are fighting their way through the enemy battlelines towards the city of Almaic, the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
Dorkindle who is pretty sure they don't have to worry about the enemy magetubes up on the north wall of the city anymore.
Knows that if he and his battalion of goblins keep moving forward at this pace through the enemy battlelines.
They'll soon be out of the firing line of the catapults upon the top of the wall too.
As the war machines will be unable to strike them, as the goblin battalion and their ork general, in the armies of Farque. Will be too close to the north wall for the catapults up on the top of the wall to hit them.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks looks ahead and to the left, sniffing as he does so. The ork warleader grins as he catches the scent of the enemy magetube that's down on the ground, just out from the base of the wall.
The ork general can't see it at the moment, as there's an enemy fortification in his line of sight.
But the large ork knows it's still there, and that the enemy has yet to remove it.
"Me gonna gets that big fucken boom boom" murmurs Dorkindle in the incomprehensible language of his race.
Then the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks grunts when Teabagger says "Boss, er general" followed by "That road is just away to the right a bit".
The big, burly ork who is wearing a rain poncho made out of a side of a tent, on what's a hot summer's day, with no chance of rain whatsoever.
A poncho that he's sweating profusely beneath too.
Looks away to the area that the goblin commander has indicated.
The warleader of the ork race, a title that was given to him well over a decade ago by lord Farque.
Nods his big head as he recognises what Teabagger has pointed out.
"Hmmmm" murmurs the ork weaponsmith as he sees captain Weldin's company on the otherside of the road, a road that goes straight to the north gates of Almaic.
Dorkindle sees that the captain and his battalion, are near the road that leads to the city. But they're not on it whatsoever.
They keep at least five to ten yards from the road at all times. As it's believed that the road has been dug out with pit traps at various points, closer to the city of Almaic.
And that's from a reliable source. Being Narladene the ground pixie who checked out the ground surrounding the city before the attack got underway.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, then looks towards the next of the enemy battlelines infront of their position.
Another fortification, from the top of which, enemy archers and crossbowmen are shooting at the goblin battalion who are in a trench.
Dorkindle drops down, and explains to Teabagger what they'll do.
The small, bright green goblin who is the commander of the battalion listens carefully. And though there's an awful lot of swearing involved. The goblin commander gets the gist of what the ork warleader wants done.
"You think many of them will flee that way boss, er general?" asks Teabagger, who continues with "They'll know for certain what will happen if they run down it".
The big, burly ork who hails from extremely cold environs of the southern polar region at the bottom of the world, grunts then says "Some fucken will" he follows that with "Cunts get all mixed up in a fucken battle and forget shit" Dorc da Orc silently adds, me know me fucken do.
The goblin commander who is originally from the kingdom of Melaurn in the very south of the Southlands, nods then says "Let's hope so".
The ork weaponsmith grunts then says "Gots to fucken 'member to attacks from that side to fucken push 'em that way". The large ork who points to where, then adds "It might fucken break some more of 'em closer to the fucken wall".
Teabagger the goblin Cunt nods to the logic of that, then he turns to the goblin to his right, and quickly says in their own language what the ork general wants done.
Word quickly spreads through the trench what the warleader of the ork race wants done. And the battalion of goblins in the Farqian mercenary army wait for the order to advance again.
As an enemy catapult shot of barrels of burning pitch goes sailing over the trench the goblin battalion are in, Dorc da Orc roars "Charge!".
The goblins scramble up and out of the enemy trench they've taken over. The ork general picks up Teabagger, and another small goblin, and biffs them out of the trench. Then he climbs up out of it behind them.
They take off running, to the left more than anything, like the rest of the battalion are doing. As they're shot at by enemy archers and crossbowmen in the fortification they're more or less heading towards.
They're running towards the eastern end of the enemy battleline infront of them. Dorkindle who leaps over one of the goblins who has tripped over. A rather common occurrence as at least some of the battalion always trip over themselves whenever they charge the enemy. Or for that matter, whenever they just run.
Takes a spear from his weapon harness, across his back. And throws it at the enemy fortification. The heavy spear slams into the wooden front of the fortification. Shattering apart planks of wood. And goes through an enemy crossbowmen, who knocks off the soldier next to him, from the archers platform they're standing on.
"Keep running!" calls out Teabagger in the goblin language, who is running more to one side of the large ork, as they run at an angle towards the eastern end of the enemy battleline they're charging.
The small, bright, lurid green goblin who is using his general as a giant moving shield, winces as arrows and bolts go zipping by through the air.
The goblin commander hears the warleader of the ork race grunt whenever he gets hit by an arrow or bolt. And he hisses once, and growls something unintelligible in the ork language when he's struck in the side of the face by an enemy arrow.
Which he rips out as they continue to run towards the eastern end of the enemy battleline, which is primarily a temporary fortification, at least eighty yards in length. There must be at least three to four hundred enemy soldiers and mercenaries in, and behind it.
And a battalion of less than a hundred and fifty goblins are rushing towards one end of it. But the smaller goblins, have one advantage. Their general.
"Fucken get some" murmurs Dorc da Orc as he runs, the large ork might not be the quickest person around. But his long stride, and steady pace. Quickly gets him amongst those in the front of the charging goblin battalion.
The ork weaponsmith roars, and those goblins infront of him, part ways. Allowing him to run forward. Even Teabagger, who usually uses the large ork as a moving shield. Hangs back a bit as the big, burly ork pushes to the front.
With arms and legs pumping, and looking more than slightly ridiculous in the rain poncho he's wearing this clear, sunny warm summer's day.
Dorkindle drops his head, as he runs directly at the eastern end of the enemy fortification.
The wooden fortification is raised up off the ground, primarily on packed dirt. Though not that high in comparison to a seven and half foot tall, seven hundred and fifty pound ork.
Who is struck by at least a dozen arrows and bolts in the front. Most of which bounce off the breastplate made of natural dragon armour he wears beneath his poncho.
As he runs head first into this end of the enemy fortification, using himself as a moving battering ram. And with good effect too.
As wood goes shattering in all directions. The large ork who can easily knock down trees by running into them head first.
Smashes through the wooden front of the fortification. It helps that the dirt packed beneath it, is at an angle, giving the ork warleader pretty good footing as he goes hurtling forward through the wooden planking.
"Get some!" shouts Dorc da Orc as he goes smashing through the enemy fortification. The big, burly ork from the bottom of the world goes sprawling. Landing upon an enemy soldier, squashing the man to death. And crashing into the legs of another, shattering his legs if the howl of pain that it illicits is anything to go by.
A enemy hammer comes crashing down upon the head of the ork general. Who chortles as the enemy soldier yelps as his weapon is jarred out of his hands after it strikes the solid head of the large ork.
Dorkindle swings out with his arms as he lies there on his gut upon a dead enemy soldier, and slams into the legs of those closest to him. Dropping them as they scream in pain as their legs break.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, chuckles as he gets to his feet. While behind him, the first of the goblins are scrambling up into the breach in the enemy fortification created by their general, the ork warleader.
One of the first of the goblins to climb up into the enemy fortification. Infact he's pushed up by others behind him. Is Teabagger the goblin Cunt.
Who kicks an enemy soldier in the face who is lying there screaming in pain with a shattered left leg.
The small, bright green goblin who commands the battalion of goblins in the mercenary army from the lands Farque. Looks to the right, the direction they want to go. Back to the west, in the direction of the nearby road.
There he sees his general, Dorc da Orc. Making his way along the wooden fortification. Swinging a headless enemy soldier like cudgel. Smashing the body into any of the enemy who actually stand and fight against him.
For as usual when the large ork gets amongst the enemy. One of three things happen to the enemy.
They either cower in fear. Or the extremely brave, or extremely stupid depending on your point of view. Stand against the ork warleader, and try to fight him. Which usually ends up bad for them. Resulting in either a horrific injury or death. It's the lucky ones who actually end up dead.
While the third, and most common thing to happen when the big, burly ork gets amongst the enemy. Is that they flee.
Which is happening now, as a fair few of the enemy soldiers and mercenaries in this temporary fortification. Hurry away from the ork warleader who is swinging around a dead body like a club.
Teabagger and a couple of other of the goblins, hurry after their general who is clearing the way. While a few others use axes to widen the breach in the planking along the front of the fortification.
As the small, bright green goblin commander from the kingdom of Melaurn hurries after his general. He looks away to the left, up at the north wall of the city of Almaic.
The goblin commander grins as he knows the enemy up there won't attack them at this time. As the battalion of goblins and their ork general are mingled up with their own as they fight the enemy within the fortification.
Teabagger who sees an enemy catapult up on the top of the north wall of the city, fling a load in this direction. Knows that it's going to fly well over their heads. And is destined for others who are further behind his battalion.
The small, bright green goblin then mutters "Fuck me sideways" as he trips over a dead body, and lands flat on his face.
The goblin commander is helped to his feet by two others in the battalion. Both small like him. Though not a lurid bright green colour like him. As he's a bit of a rarity amongst the goblin race.
Then they continue on, following after their general Dorc da Orc. Who is clearing a path through the enemy fortification.
And those of the enemy he doesn't kill or maim, either those who stand and fight. Or cower in fear until he hits them. They're fleeing.
And though some are doing the right thing. Which is jumping off the back of the fortification. And rushing across the open ground to the next battleline that's even closer to the city of Almaic.
Many of those fleeing, are going back and away from the large ork who is rampaging through their fortification. They're fleeing westwards through the fortification, in the direction of the nearby road.
As Dorkindle, who has biffed away the dead body he was using as a club. And is now wielding a hammer in one hand, and a throwing axe in the other. Wades through the enemy willing to stand against him as he heads back towards the nearby road.
"Fucken get some!" shouts Dorc da Orc as he slams his hammer down into the head of an enemy soldier who attempted to stab him with a sword.
As the enemy soldier's head vanishes in a pulpy red mist of brain matter and bone. And his body slams into the ground. The ork warleader advances, followed closely by Teabagger the goblin Cunt and others in the battalion he's the general of. As the battle for the city of Almaic continues to rage on this warm, summer's day in the duchy of Phelm in northern Nastell . . . . . .