A Grand Design 18.

Late Autumn. The Duchy Of Dalmar. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

"Waagen?" says lord Farque, Arvelle Ganard the plainsman nods his shaved head and says "Waagen".
"What the hell?" mutters the undead warlord as he sits upon his camp chair in his tent.
Next to the heavily armoured deathlord, the elven masterthief, prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel frowns.
"Dorc says it was group of about ten" says the tall plainsman with the shaved head.
From the corner of the tent where he sits, Dorc da Orc grunts, then says "Fucken man doggies".
"And that's not all" continues Arvelle Ganard who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The tall plainsman who is a former illegal wrecker who plied his trade on the Kaldel Plains, turns to Tamric Drubine the field commander and quietly tells him "Have the sorcerer Larris come in".
The young field commander makes his way to the door, and sticks his head outside. A couple moments later and subaltern Larris enters the tent.
And along with field commander Drubine, makes his way over to where the others are.
The sorcerer bows to his lord, then turns to Arvelle the plainsman, who tells him "Show them".
"Yes councillor" says the sorcerer Larris, who then casts an illusion spell. Showing what he and the others who went up into the duchy of Falosen over the last few days, found.
"That is the smallest damn waagen I've ever seen" quietly says lord Farque as they look at the illusion of the dead waagen that some of the group found near a village in the north of the duchy of Falosen.
Then the lord of the death realm mutters "Fuck" as he realises what it means.
A moment later, and standing next to the undead warlord, the young elven noble Helbenthril Raendril winces as he realises what it means too.
"Now we know what's happened to all those missing children and youngsters" quietly says Arvelle Ganard, who in actual fact is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson who just happens to inhabit the body of the former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains.
"Not all of them" quietly says the lord of the death realm, who continues on with "Waagen are picky fucking creatures, probably only one in ten of their victims they intend to turn actually turn".
The heavily armoured deathlord looks at the elven magic user standing beside him, and asks him "How many children are missing across the three duchies?".
"Hundreds" is the reply from Helbe the elven thief who continues with "At least five hundred, maybe six or seven hundred, could be more" the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel then adds "The dukes soldiers gave up counting, especially from the remotest areas".
"So there could be seventy waagen or more here in the west of the kingdom" quietly says the deathlord of Farque, who looks at councillor Ganard, who looks like he wants to tell him more.
"Continue" says the undead being who is also know by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"They're working in conjunction with at least one spellcaster" says Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who then explains how the waagen that attacked one of the villages in the north of the duchy of Falosen, suddenly disappeared. Either through a gateway, rift or portal.
Lord Farque looks over at Dorc da Orc who grunts in agreement with what councillor Ganard just said.
Then the heavily armoured deathlord whose nation lies far to the south, looks at the sorcerer Larris, who says "The councillor is correct my lord".
Draugadrottin, or as he's known to an older generation of elven kind, Des'tier, which translates to The Destroyer, nods his full helmed head, then falls silent.
After a little while, the lord of the death realm says to the sorcerer Larris "You may leave".
"Yes my lord" says the subaltern in the armies of Farque, who bows to his lord, then makes his way from the large tent.
While inside, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque remains with two of his councillors, Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman. Along with the ork warleader, Dorc da Orc. As well as the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
"What should we do?" asks Arvelle Ganard "Inform the dukes?" adds the former illegal wrecker who is from the Kaldel Plains.
"That might not be for the best" quietly says the heavily armoured deathlord who continues with "They've got other things to worry about".
The undead being briefly pauses, before he says "Now we know that someone else is involved with what's happening out here in the west of the kingdom" Draugadrottin then adds "Whoever it is they know what they're doing. Because a group of fully grown adult recently turned waagen would be a fucking nightmare to control. But children, that's a different thing entirely. They'd be easier to control, and will do what an older adult waagen tells them to do".
The others nod, then Arvelle aka Zubutai Timaginson says "Who could it be then?" the tall plainsman with the shaven head follows that with "Whoever it is, they're attacking both the dukes men, as well as the king's".
"That's something we'll have to find out" quietly says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "Especially as reports are coming into camp that the king's men are getting attacked along the roads as they come out in this direction".
"By the dukes scouting parties?" asks councillor Ganard who frowns as he thought they'd yet to attack any of the king's army who are helping out with the treatment of those affected by the plague that's hit the three most western duchies in the kingdom of Girdane.
"No" says Des'tier, who continues with "We haven't given them the order to attack the enemy yet". As they, the armies of Farque have command of the dukes of Falosen, Girnath, and Dalmar's armies in their rebellion against the crown.
"It's probably these waagen and whoever it is that's in control of them" says the undead being in the dark blue, and black, full suite of heavy plate armour.
"Someone who looks like they might want to take advantage of a war between the three dukes out here in the very west of the kingdom, and the crown" quietly says the lord of the death realm, who then looks at the others here in his large tent with him, and adds "It might be in our best interests to find out who it is".
The others all nod, with the exception of Dorc da Orc who has grown bored of the conversation. And instead has taken one of his axes from his weapon harness, and is thoroughly inspecting it. Looking for any damage on the blade, or down the haft.
The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Might be a slovenly, and quite frankly, a rather filthy individual. He can't help that, he's an ork. They naturally stink.
And they'll do nothing if possible to clean themselves up.
But that can't be said about their weapons. No matter the quality of the weapon. They'll make sure they're well maintained. And always ready for battle.
After all, that's one of the main reasons of living for an ork. To fight, anyone and anywhere. They don't particularly care, just as long as they fight.
Seeing the ork general enamoured with one of his weapons. Which is fine by lord Farque, as he knows the warleader of the ork race won't be getting into any trouble while he's doing that.
The heavily armoured deathlord looks at the young field commander Tamric Drubine and asks him "Is all of duke Lombasil's army in?".
"Not quite, the last of them should be here later this morning, or in the early afternoon" replies Tamric Drubine the field commander "Most of their supply wagons will be with that lot" adds the nobleborn teenager who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The lord of the death realm nods his full helmed head, then quietly says "Might be best if we break camp, and get moving before the last of them ride in".
Des'tier or The Destroyer, as his elven name is translated to the common language, continues with "Even if we don't travel that far throughout the rest of the day, we'll still be on the border with the duchy of Poldis at sunset".
The others, with the exception of Dorkindle again, all nod. As they all know what it'll mean once the armies of dukes Lombasil, Korros, and Hilloc. Along with their own. Cross over into the next duchy to the east, the duchy of Poldis.
It'll be the start of the rebellion against the crown by the dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar. And once they cross over into Poldis. There'll be no turning back, and they'll have to stay the course. Either their rebellion will be successful. Or they'll be defeated. There's no inbetween.
"You might want to talk to the dukes about that" says the undead warlord to field commander Drubine "Remember, this is effectively your army, and you command the campaign" adds the lord ruler of the lands Farque.
The lord of the death realm gestures at the others, and tells the nobleborn teenager who hails from the kingdom of Sarcrin "The others are here to help you make your decisions, but ultimately when it comes time for battle, it's your commands they'll follow".
Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, nods then says "Yes my lord".
"Good" says Draugadrottin, who then tells the son and former heir to a previous knight of castle Drubine, a castle located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin "Best you get going and tell the dukes to start breaking down the camp".
The young field commander in the armies of Farque, bows to the undead being, then makes his way out of the large tent.
"Cunt" says lord Farque in the ork language "Go with Tam" adds the heavily armoured deathlord in the same language.
"Why?" grunts Dorkindle in his native language "Because i fucking said so" says Draugadrottin in the incomprehensible language of the ork race.
"And because you're a big fat ugly mean looking cunt, who stinks like shit" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks is about to protest that. And say that he's not fat, nor is he ugly, but is infact pretty.
But instead he chuckles as the undead warlord adds "And people tend to shit themselves, and do what they're told to do when you're hanging around, looking like you want to kill them".
"Now get fucking going" continues the deathlord of Farque, who was given an ork name centuries ago when he was still alive. A name near impossible to pronounce in both the ork language, and especially in the common tongue.
But which translates into common as Little Kaiuss. A name all but forgotten. And only remembered by those who were with him when he was alive, or knew him when he was alive.
After a chuckling Dorkindle exits the large tent, and follows after the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
Lord Farque looks at one such person, or individual who briefly knew him when he was alive.
"There's something i want you to do gnat" quietly says the lord of the death realm in the ground pixie language.
Upon the right shoulder of Helbe the elven thief, Narladene the ground pixie lifts a questioning eyebrow as she looks at the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
Who then quietly tells her in the ground pixie language, what he wants her to do.
After listening to the undead warlord, the naturally magical creature nods her head, then Narladene the ground pixie asks "Now?".
"Now" says Des'tier, the tiny winged creature nods again, then she drops off the right shoulder of the young elven noble she's attached to, and she flies down to the ground, which she dives into.
After seeing Narladene disappear into the ground, and wondering where she's going to.
The highly talented elven magic user she's attached to, looks at the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and lifts a questioning eyebrow.
"Waagen" is all Draugadrottin says in response to the inquiring look from the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
The elven masterthief nods his hooded head, then gesturing to his fellow council member, Arvelle Ganard, he asks the undead being "What do you want us to do?".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord gets up off his camp chair, then tells the elven princeling from Laerel and the former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains what he wants them to do. And more importantly what he expects of the two of them.
As they, as members of his personal council. Are here to not only guide their army, and help field commander Drubine come up with the plans for the campaign of the dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar's rebellion against the crown and king of Girdane.
But also to make sure that the three dukes, their allies and armies, are successful in their rebellion against the crown.
For if they're not successful. They, meaning the army thats travelled here from the lands Farque, won't get paid the full amount due.
"Come on" says the undead warlord with a nod of his full helmed head, then the three of them make their way out of the large tent.
Once outside, they see that their own army has started to break down their camp, as they prepare to head to the border with the duchy of Poldis, which is less than ten miles away.
They look towards where the armies of the three dukes are camped, and see that they've yet to start breaking down their camp.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque, along with two of the members of his personal council, start making their way towards the camp of the armies of the dukes Hilloc, Korros and Lombasil.
When they get to the camp of the dukes armies, the order has been given, and it's started to come down.
"We'll have to have some of our own spellcasters work with them" quietly says lord Farque in the elven language to Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman.
"The dukes don't have all that many spellcasters of their own" continues the heavily armoured deathlord, who follows that with "Orders will be slow to spread through their armies if we don't do it" Draugadrottin then dryly adds "Which will be a fucking problem during battle".
Both the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, and the tall plainsman with the shaved head from the Kaldel Plains nod in agreement.
Then prince Helbenthril Raendril quietly says "I'll see to it" followed by "And make sure Tam knows".
Des'tier nods his full helmed head as they make their way to where duke Hilloc has his command tent, as that's where the three dukes who have decided to have a revolution against the crown, spend most of their time.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque senses that the trio of dukes are there, as well as Tamric Drubine and Dorc da Orc.
"Once we're under way, that'll be it" quietly explains the lord of the death realm, who continues with "We'll be fighting through the winter as we head east".
"Think they've got a chance?" quietly asks the highly talented elven magic user, prince Helbenthril Raendril.
"They've got an even chance I'd say" is the reply from the Draugadrottin who continues with "From the sounds of it, even with us, they've got a smaller force than what the king can field".
Both the elven masterthief and the former illegal wrecker nod in agreement, and the undead being tells them "Still, that doesn't amount to all that much when it comes to a campaign" followed by "Especially a revolution".
The three of them know that if they can head further east into the kingdom without too much hindrance before they encounter the bulk of the crown's forces.
The dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen have a fairly successful chance in their rebellion against the crown and king.
The campaign is bound to be drawn out anyway as it will be fought during the wintertime.
But if the armies from the very west of the kingdom get as far east as possible before having any major engagements with the forces of the king. The better chance they have in their rebellion being successful.
"You know, if the dukes are successful" quietly says Arvelle the plainsman who continues with "And they depose the king" he briefly pauses, before he adds "Who'll be the new king of Girdane?".
The three of them are silent, as they along with the three dukes, Lombasil, Korros and Hilloc have yet to have any discussion about that . . . . . .