A Grand Design 47.

Winter. The City Of Oaklynn. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

Dorc da Orc punches in the skull of one the regent's soldiers who has run at him.
The large ork grabs the polearm of another, and shoves into the guts of that soldier.
Who screams in agony as he's lifted up off the ground by the ork warleader, who flings him up against a garden wall.
The ork weaponsmith looks ahead, and sees another of the regent's soldiers come flying back over the garden wall infront of him, and land near the big, burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world.
Dorkindle hurries forward, and goes through the smashed in gate in the garden wall, and enters another courtyard, here in the palace of the king of Girdane.
The ork general grunts as he sees lord Farque up ahead, making his way out of the courtyard, as they make their way through the palace grounds.
Dorc da Orc chuckles, then says "Get some" as he kicks a severed head across the courtyard. Then he follows after the undead warlord, hurrying to catch up to him.
Towards the other end of the long street, here in the center of the city of Oaklynn.
Mira Reinholt the mage and sir Percavelle Lé Dic have simply walked into the city council building.
The regent's soldiers who were on guard at the gates. Took off running down the long street, to see what was happening at the palace. Where a rather large explosion took place.
The mage Reinholt was a little disappointed he didn't have to create another distraction as he and the former paladin made their way towards the city council building.
But they and others, have freely entered through the gates, and crossed the square infront of the building, to get in to it.
It's obvious things are in disarray, as people wonder what's going on, not to mention it's still early in the morning.
The once powerful mage, who has a rough idea where things are here in the council building.
Is just wondering if he's taken the correct hallway to get to the council chambers, when he senses something. Or to be more precise, someone.
"In here" says Mira Reinholt the mage, who opens the first door to the right they come across.
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, and the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic enter a room, an office for a council official by the looks of it.
"What is it?" asks sir Percavelle Lé Dic who then adds "Wot" after the mage Reinholt closes the door behind them.
"A sorcerer" quietly replies the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
The former earl of Lé Dic sourly smiles. He's yet to use any of his weapons this morning.
And now another practitioner of magic has turned up. Who no doubt will try to kill them if they find out what he and the Vexilian mage in exile are up to.
The spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, who can't be sensed by other spellcasters due to an amulet he wears.
Definitely doesn't recognise the sorcerer as someone he knows. Not in the Farqian mercenary army. Or the armies of the dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen. Who don't have many spellcasters to begin with.
"Now let's see what you can do" murmurs the mage Reinholt who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
A few moments later, and sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Sourly smiles as he sees a mageglobe appear in the right gloved hand of the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil.
The Druvician nobleman who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, grunts.
Then slaps shut the faceplate of his full helm, when Mira Reinholt says "Come on Percy, let's see what happens".
The heavily armoured knight lifts the shield of Saint Mar-che, as he follows the councillor out of the room, who flings his mageglobe away, which takes off down the hallway here in the city council building.
Beldane the cleric swings his mace, hitting the side of a building, and large chunk of the wall goes flying inwards.
There's a hole in the side of the building, which Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy runs in through. Followed by Shur Kee the monk, then Tovis the war engineer. And finally the fighting cleric himself.
The spy Tanith kicks a dazed solder on the floor in the head. Then he leaps over some of the rubble in the floor, and throws a punch, square in the back of another of the regent's soldiers, dropping him to the floor.
The spy who is originally from the elven principality of Alínlae, who is now an officer in the armies of Farque.
Quickly turns to his left, and biffs a throwing dagger at another soldier, who is trying to scramble out the door.
The regent's soldier drops to the floor with the dagger in the back of his neck.
Shur Kee the monk has grabbed one of the regent's soldiers, and flipped the man over his shoulder.
And while still holding the soldier's right arm, as he lies prone on the floor. The short, statured monk wearing an odd, conical shaped had.
Slams his right sandled foot into the man's face.
The physical adept lets go of that soldier's arm. Then he leaps straight up, spins in midair, swinging his left leg as he does.
His sandled left foot, connects with the side of the head of the regent's soldier who has rushed him, and tried to grab him.
Tovis the war engineer dodges to his right, and avoids a sword swung at him by a disoriented soldier, who was hit by flying debris when the side of the building was smashed in.
The young engineer who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, where he served in the army of a baron Harkonin.
Slams his hammer into the side of the regent's soldier, who drops to the floor groaning.
Tovis steps over him, and kicks another soldier on the floor in the head, who is trying to crawl away, wondering what the hell is going on in his barracks first thing this cold, winter's morning.
"Seems I'm not needed" dryly says Beldane the cleric who is the last to enter the building, and look around.
As he sees the others have taken care of the regent's men in this particular barracks.
"Next one" says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, who then leads them out of the front door, and onto the street.
While a couple of prisoners in the holding cell, drunks who were fighting and apprehended last night, yell at the four exiting the barracks to release them.
Walking along a rooftop in the southern quarter of the city of Oaklynn on this exceptionally cold winter's morning.
Helbe the elven thief looks down at the street to his right, and sees more of the cavalry in the Farqian mercenary army go by.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user looks back, and sees that those in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, who are on foot, have started entering the city as well.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel knows it won't be long before the armies of the dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar will be in the city too.
"The city has fallen and they don't even know it" Helbe the elven thief murmurs to himself as looks down, seeing people on the street, looking around, wondering what's going on.
The elven master assassin shifts away, and is now on another rooftop, a couple hundred feet away.
He looks north to the center of the city, then he looks down at a square away to his right. Where it looks like one of the city markets is being set up for the day.
Though not a lot is exactly happening, as stall holders and others are standing around, wondering what's happening on this cold, winter's morning in the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane.
The highly talented elven magic user, blasts the minds of a trio of the regent's soldiers.
Who are rushing across the square, to a street, that a mounted company in the mercenary army from the lands Farque is just riding by on.
The three of them drop to the ground, while the people in the square look on in stunned silence, as they have no idea what's just happened.
The elven masterthief who happens to be the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, and also a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Looks around for a few more moments, then he shifts away again, heading north again towards the center of the city of Oaklynn.
Tamric Drubine the field commander has entered the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane.
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is now a field commander in the armies of Farque.
Looks back, and spots where the dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen are in the line of march. And sees that they'll be in the city fairly soon too.
The young field commander who is on foot, looks to his left, where sir Kamson the avenger says in a slightly dry tone of voice "I think we're making an impression".
As people on the street, hurry indoors, locking doors and windows. As the mercenary army from the lands Farque walk by.
"They're lucky it's us and not some other mercenary army" says Lisell Maera the messenger who is behind field commander Drubine and the former member of the order of the Knights of the Dark.
Tamric Drubine the field commander nods in agreement with the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, then he quietly says "We'll have to keep a watch on the armies of the dukes".
The nobleborn teen, who is the son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin, continues with "A lot of them from out in the far west of the kingdom hate the crown and those of the nobility here in the east".
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, then adds "They might get it in their heads to take it out on the locals since i doubt we'll get much resistance from the regent's forces".
Both Lisell Maera or Lis as more often than not, she's called by those who know her well. Along with sir Kamson nod in agreement with the young field commander.
Then as they continue northwards through the southern quarter of the city, the heavily armoured avenger who is essentially the second in command to field commander Drubine, says "This plan has been a hell of a lot more effective than i thought it would be" he then adds "The city's ours, and i doubt most of the residents know what's even going on".
Further back in the line of march, duke Hilloc of Dalmar walks into the city of Oaklynn.
The nobleman from the very west of the kingdom, shares a look with his cousin sir Passic.
Then with his fellow dukes from western Girdane, duke Korros of Girnath, and duke Lombasil of Falosen who are walking beside him.
All of them can't really believe that they're now in the capital city. When before dawn, they were over a hundred miles away, in the central region of the kingdom.
They also can't believe that in a little over a month since they publicly declared their rebellion, and set off with their armies from the very west of the kingdom.
They would be walking those same armies into the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
And with the king already dead, the crown has yet to realise that they're defeated as the rebellious dukes and their armies have entered the capital city.
Looking up, and seeing locals peeking out of second and third storey windows, watching the passing armies. Duke Hilloc muses "Wonder if they know who we are?".
"I think some will" says duke Lombasil of Falosen who sees some of the locals pointing at their pennants being carried by the flag bearers a bit behind the dukes and their senior officers.
"Word will soon spread quickly about who we are" adds the duke of Falosen.
The other two dukes nod in agreement as they along with their armies who are entering the city of Oaklynn, head north through the southern quarter of the city.
Making their way to the center of the capital city, where both the palace of the king, and the city council building is located.
In the palace grounds, lord Farque pauses for a moment, then looking back and seeing Dorc da Orc approaching, the undead warlord continues on his way.
Further behind the heavily armoured deathlord, the ork warleader scowls as he can smell and hear, enemy soldiers away to their left somewhere.
But the lord and ruler of the lands Farque is continuing on this way, south through the palace grounds.
Draugadrottin as he's also known as by the people of his lands, increases speed, so much so he becomes a blur of motion.
And he runs into the outer wall of the palace, smashing through the stone wall relatively easily.
The lord of the death realm could of easily leapt over it, as it's only about twelve foot high.
But the following ork weaponsmith would of wasted time climbing the wall, as they continue south through the center of the city of Oaklynn.
On the long street between the palace grounds, and the regent's mansion which is the next building along, towards the other end of the street.
Is what can only be described as a park. A park that the residents of the city hardly get to experience.
As they're only allowed into the treelined paths, and open greens on festival days, and days of celebrations.
The park is the domain of the nobility in the city. Or those who have connections to the nobility, such as the rich and powerful.
The park is near empty this early in the morning, especially as the day has dawned so cold.
Though those who lord Farque is pursuing, are making their way through the park, heading south towards the regent's mansion.
Lord Farque, who senses Dorkindle still following him, glances to his right, and says "Who's with the wizard?".
"An officer, and another soldier" is the reply from Narladene the ground pixie who just came up out of the ground.
The naturally magical creature, who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains, and is attached to Helbe the elven thief, briefly pauses before she adds "And the regent".
The undead being nods his full helmed head, as he thought as much.
Des'tier as elves of an older generation know him by, who like the tiny winged creature, is speaking in the ground pixie language, then says "That wizard is too shit scared to cast again".
Behind the visor of his full helm, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque as he runs, wryly smiles as he adds "Mira has that effect on some people".
"Ain't that true" dryly murmurs the ground pixie as she keeps pace with the heavily armoured deathlord.
"Speaking of" adds Narladene, as both she and the undead warlord sense a mageglobe created by Mira Reinholt, about to come to the end of it's brief life.
A couple of moments later, the sound of another explosion rocks the morning, coming from the city council building, on the otherside of the regent's mansion, at the southern end of the long street, here in the center of the city of Oaklynn.
"Hope that doesn't fucking spook them" mutters Draugadrottin, who senses those he's in pursuit of, and finds that they'll still heading south through the park.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque, looks back, and yells out in the ork language "Hurry the fuck up cunt!".
Then switching back to the ground pixie language, he says to the naturally magical creature flying alongside him "Go and annoy that fat fuck, and get him to hurry up".
Narladene, who is more than pleased at such a request, grins as she turns in midair, drawing her tiny little sword, then she heads back to where the large ork is lumbering along, following after the lord of the death realm.
Who rolls his eyes, as he hears the ground pixie chuckling as she flies back to give Dorc da Orc a hurry up.
As they pursue a wizard, and three others. One of whom is the regent of the city of Oaklynn . . . . . .