The Hire 128.

The Battle For The City Of Almaic...

"You okay boss?" asks Teabagger the goblin Cunt "Ugh" is the grunted reply from Dorc da Orc.
Who would be fair to say, is more than a little groggy at the moment.
The large ork feels like he's drunk a wagon load of alcohol. Without the fun of actually drinking it.
The ork warleader feels absolutely terrible as he sits at the base of the north wall of the city of Almaic. Not all that far from the gates of the city.
The big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world, who is surrounded by a number of the goblins in the battalion he's the general of.
While others with bows and crossbows, are shooting up at the enemy on the top of the wall, who might get it in their heads to drop something down on the ork weaponsmith.
Blinks as he looks around, then with a thick feeling tongue, Dorkindle growls "What the fuck did you gob-a-lin cunts do to me?".
"Wasn't us boss" says Teabagger, who continues with "It was his highness, the elven prince who healed you".
"Fucken pointy eared cunt" mutters the warleader of the ork race, who then says "What the fuck did he heal me with?" followed by "A fucken hammer?" Dorc da Orc then adds "Cause that's what it fucken feels like".
"He used one of the potions you had in your belt there boss" says the small, bright green goblin who is the commander of the battalion of goblins in the Farqian mercenary army. "And you let the cunt?" asks the ork weaponsmith in disgust.
Teabagger just shrugs his shoulders, and doesn't mention that the councillor, prince Helbenthril Raendril also slapped the large ork across the face when he healed him, just because he wanted to.
"Ugh" mutters Dorc da Orc again, who then groans as he sits up straighter with his back against the wall behind him. As it feels like he's be trampled by a bunch of mountain giants.
"Some fucker got me good" mutters the large ork in his native language. Who all that he remembers, is going to shoot the magetube at the city gates. Then the next moment he's lying on the ground waking up, surrounded by some of the goblins in the battalion.
The big, burly ork who hails from the frozen bottom of the world, can't remember anything from when he was unconscious. Which isn't too surprising, considering he hardly remembers anything whilst knocked out. And he's been knocked out a lot during his life.
"You alright boss?" asks the goblin commander again in concern "Yeah me fucken fine" mutters the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, who then growls "And stop calling me boss, it's fucken general 'member".
"Yes fucking general" murmurs Teabagger in the goblin language, which causes a few of the others who heard him, to snigger.
"As you say boss general, er i mean general" says the goblin commander as the groggy looking ork general glares at him, and the others who sniggered.
Dorkindle leans his head back against the wall behind him, then closes his eyes. The large ork eyes snap open as he remembers something, least of which is that he's still in the middle of a battle.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, looks to the nearby road. And he spots the magetube he had a little while ago, lying on the open ground on the otherside of that road.
The ork general of a battalion of goblin fighters in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, grunts then says "The fucken boom boom" and nods to where the magetube is as he adds "Better fucken get it".
"Er" says the goblin commander in a reluctant tone of voice, who continues with "That might not be a good idea general".
The small bright green goblin, who is originally from the southern kingdom of Melaurn, nods to beyond the heavily massive magical weapon and adds "There on the ground" Teabagger then says "Some others have already tried to get it".
Dorc da Orc grunts as he spots the charred remains of what looks to be humans. From the army led by field commander Leivyn, which is on the otherside of the road.
"Fucken ours?" ask the ork warleader referring to the Farqian mercenary army, he then adds "Or them fucken barons cunts?".
"Some of the barons men" says Teabagger, who continues with "From the robber baron Solamard's army i think". The robber baron along with robber baron Gergus, whose armies are over on the otherside of the road, under the command of field commander Leivyn.
The large ork, who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, grunts as he contemplates what to do next.
He could try for the nearby magetube on the otherside of the road. Knowing that an enemy spellcaster is likely to fry him if he does.
Or he can try something else. What? He's not exactly sure yet. Which is pretty much how he goes through life anyway.
The ork weaponsmith looks over at the magetube again, then he looks straight up above him to the top of the north wall of Almaic, and mutters in the ork language "Fucken magicky cuntbag". At whoever it was that struck him down with a spell.
He sighs, then looks away to his right, to see a scaling ladder being put up by some of the soldiers and mercenaries in the armies of either the robber baron Almard or the robber baron Larimer.
Who are on this side of the road that leads to the gates in the north wall of the city that's the provincial capital.
Dorkindle knows that he's too heavy to climb up the scaling ladder. And he looks at the goblins around him. A fair few of whom, will fall off a ladder as they climbed to the top of the wall.
The big, burly ork who was forced into exile from the Ork Range in the southern polar region of the world. For killing his mother, the then matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
It was only fair, after all she was doing her best to kill him at the time.
Though originally he was going to be killed for doing that. But thanks to the intervention of two of his friends. The blacksmith No Legs Munga and Onka Donka the shaman. Along with Dorc's mentor, the weaponmaster Kull. He was sent into exile instead.
Sees another of the scaling ladders a bit further away, slide down the face of the wall, and fall close to the ladder that's nearer.
The eyelids of the ork warleader slightly close as he thinks of something, then he murmurs in his native language "Not one, but maybe two of those fuckers might work".
Then after grunting, the large ork, who still happens to be the largest ork in his tribe, says in the common language "Come on cunts, help your fucken general up".
With the help of about a dozen of the goblins, Dorkindle gets to his feet. He's more than a little wobbly as he leans against the city wall for support, while rolling down the rain poncho he's wearing, as it was hiked up to his chest.
Once it's down, the big burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, grunts and nods away to the nearest scaling ladder that's up, and says "That way cunts".
"Is that a good idea general?" asks Teabagger the goblin Cunt "Fucken nope" says a grinning Dorc da Orc, who then adds with shrug "We gots to do fucken something".
The small, bright lurid green goblin who commands the battalion, nods to that. And without to much of a sigh, he orders the battalion to make their way to the nearby scaling ladders.
While he and the others who are closest, help their general to walk that way. As the large ork stumbles as he puts one foot infront of the other, while leaning against the north wall of Almaic. As he heads towards the closest of the scaling ladders. Which the defenders up on the top of the wall, are pushing away at the moment.
"Dorc's finally back on his feet" says Mira Reinholt the mage, next to him on the archers platform in the enemy fortification they're in. Tamric Drubine looks to near the gates, here on the north side of Almaic. And spots the large ork amongst some of the goblins in his battalion. Leaning against the wall as he slowly walks away from the gates. And away from the magetube that's lying on the otherside of the road.
"He looks knackered" says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who then adds "That spell that hit him must of been something".
"Anyone else not protected by magic would of been killed if they got hit by that" says the once powerful mage who hails from the city-state of Vexil, who then adds in a dry tone "That fat green lump is made of tough stuff, that's for fucking sure".
Next to the mage Reinholt, the young field commander grins and nods in agreement with the spellcaster who is a member of the personal council of lord Farque.
Then Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, says "Hell, that cleric who hit him is going to join us" he briefly pauses before he adds "That's if his highness finds him".
"Better not tell Dorc it was him that struck him down" dryly says the exiled Vexilian mage, who after a couple of moments of silence, continues with "And like you said, that's if the royal thief is able to find him".
Their conversation is interrupted by one of the spotters who says "Commander we've topped the wall".
"Where?" asks the young field commander who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Away to the left, about halfway along our half of the wall" explains the lookout who is on the archers platform to the left of the one field commander Drubine and councilor Reinholt are on with a couple of others.
They look that way, and it's the mage Reinholt who spots them and says "I see them" followed by "Looks like some of Larimer's men are up there".
Tam sees them too, then says "They need to get a few more up there to take that section of the wall".
He turns to his subcommander Waiamin and tells him "Have Larimer push more against that part of the wall".
The subcommander nods, and passes the order onto one of the nearby spellcasters, who in turn will use mindspeech to get in contact with one of the spellcasters with the two robber barons.
Who are with their senior officers, in the battleline that's closest to the city of Almaic. While field commander Drubine and his senior staff, along with councilor Reinholt, are in the next battleline back. Essentially at the rear of the army, now that there's a full on assault on the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
"Can you help them out?" quietly asks the young field commander with a glance at the mage Reinholt beside him, as they see another of the robber baron Larimer's men get struck down as he fights upon the top of the city wall.
"Probably not without killing them too" replies the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, the mage whose family owns one of the largest and most wealthy trading companies in all the Southlands, continues with "Though with the way it's going up there, hardly any of them will be alive anyway".
As they see another, then another of the soldiers from the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains, fall to the enemy upon that section of the wall.
Another is cut down, though he grabs one of the defenders, and takes him over the top of the wall, and falls out of view behind the wall.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands. Who was on course to be the next battlemage in the Southlands, or for that matter anywhere in the world of Volunell.
Creates a mageglobe as another in the robber baron Larimer's army, this one a mercenary. Get shoved off the top of the wall, after a sword is plunged into his guts.
Mira Reinholt flings the mageglobe away, and the living piece of magic shoots straight up into the sky as it makes its way above the wards the enemy have along the north wall of Almaic.
"Damn" murmurs the young field commander who leads the army attacking this half of the wall, when he sees the last soldier to gain the top of the wall, struck down by the enemy. Then his body picked up, and thrown off the top of the wall.
While others use polearms and spears to push the scaling ladder away, as a trio of robber baron Larimer's men are climbing it.
As that scaling ladder is slowly pushed away from the face of the wall, and a fireball splashes across the wards close to it.
Commander Drubine shakes his head, and quietly says "They'll have to try harder".
"Should we send ours up?" quietly asks subcommander Waiamin, the nobleborn field commander shakes his head, and says "No" followed by "They can continue to wait". For the simple reason a lot of them, especially the advanced elements of the Farqian mercenary army under the command of Tamric Drubine fought all morning to clear the enemy from all the battlelines they had dug here to the north of the city.
Whilst the armies of the robber barons followed at a distance.
"Larimer and Almard's men will continue with the assault upon the wall itself" says the young field commander who was the heir to a previous knight of castle Drubine in northern Sarcrin, who continues with "Our forces will advance to the top of the wall on my order only".
The mage Reinholt who is pretty sure he has just spotted his latest mageglobe up in the clear afternoon sky, coming back down, on the otherside of the enemy wards, says in a slightly dry tone "Well, apart from there".
"Huh?" says Tamric Drubine, who looks at the exiled Vexilian mage, who points to where he means.
There they see Dorc da Orc, talking in an animated fashion with some of robber baron Almard's soldiers who are putting up a scaling ladder again. While some of the goblin battalion, and others in the robber baron's army, bring over another scaling ladder which had been shoved off the wall.
"Hell, it'll be a miracle if he could get his fat ass up one of those ladders" says Mira Reinholt, who has seen the big, burly ork climb scaling ladders before. Though they were much stronger, heavier and sturdier than ones they have here.
As his mageglobe comes down and hits the top of the wall, that section that some of the attackers were briefly on, and it explodes in a spectacular and fiery fashion.
The once powerful mage quietly says "Though if he did get up to the top, we'd have a secure section of the wall" he briefly pauses before adding "No way the enemy could clear him and those fanatical goblins of his off the wall" . . . . . .