The Lost Ones 64.

Summer. In The Lowlands. The Town Of Falmare.

"They'll be in a building across a courtyard, behind a shop" says Tamric Drubine the field commander, next to him, the witch Saanea nods in agreement.
"You got that?" asks the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Yeah cunt" is the grunted reply from Dorc da Orc, who at the moment is under an illusion spell that's been cast by Saanea the witch.
"Lis will be on a rooftop nearby, she'll no doubt point it too" adds the young field commander in the armies of Farque as they turn a corner onto another street.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, looks down the street then quickly says to the others "Cross the street" followed by "Hurry".
As he sees a number of men, obviously mercenaries from their attire. Make their way across the far end of the street, and head into a lane.
The group quickly cross the street and walk alongside a row of shops and buildings, without garnering any attention from the mercenaries at the other end of the street. Who have all made their way into the lane down there.
Tam who is out infront now, looks back at the overweight blond, young man behind him and the witch Saanea, and says to him "That's the way to go" followed by "Got it".
A deep grunt is the reply he gets from the large ork beneath the illusion spell.
The spell is good, but it's not good enough to disguise the deep, growling voice of the ork warleader.
Though it's perfect in another way. As the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world doesn't stink like he usually does. Which is definitely an added bonus.
"Go on" quietly says Tam with a nod of his head in the direction of the lane at the far end of the street.
With a grunt, Dorc da Orc in the guise of a rather fat human, moves out infront of the others, and walks quickly down to the other end of the street.
As the ork weaponsmith does so, field commander Drubine looks at the others, and quietly asks them "You know what to do?".
They, being Shur Kee the monk, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, and Saanea the witch all nod their heads in reply to the young field commander in the armies of Farque, who murmurs to himself in the elven language "I hope to fuck this works".
As she lies upon the rooftop on a building near to the shop that's owned by the flatland merchant Sharnd.
Lisell Maera the messenger who has just seen more of the hired mercenaries cross the street, and head around Sharnd's shop, to the building on the otherside of the courtyard there.
Glances down into the lane next to the building she's on where she hears someone whistling, badly and out of tune.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury rolls her eyes, as she has heard that whistling since she was a girl of about eleven.
She shakes her head, and sees a rather large fellow, in his twenties, blond hair, extremely slovenly, and very overweight.
Make his way through the lane to the street that Sharnd the merchant's shop is on.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque watches as he briefly pauses on this side of the street, sniffing as he does so.
He slightly turns his head, and looks up to the roof that the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands is lying on.
He grunts when Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group, lifts her head up, and quickly looks down at him, before dropping her head back down.
The messenger or runner as they're often referred to, takes hold of her crossbow that's beside her, and lifts it up, and takes aim along the length of it. As she continues to watch the overweight young man down on the street below.
He crosses to the front of the trading shop that's owned by the flatland merchant Sharnd. 
He looks in through the glass window, and then the door that's open on this warm and sunny summer's day in the lowlands. As if contemplating going inside to check out the wares that are for sale in the shop.
He decides not to, and the overweight man in his early twenties, obviously from his colouring and hair colour, is from elsewhere in the Southlands.
Then heads around the shop owned by Sharnd the merchant, to the courtyard behind it.
There's over a dozen hired mercenaries in the back courtyard, just infront of the small warehouse that's behind the trading shop of flatland merchant Sharnd.
And while there's others of them around all sides of the small warehouse, inside of which, their leaders are in a meeting.
Those who are in the courtyard, all turn and look at the fat young man who has just made his way into the back courtyard, after coming around from the street infront of Sharnd's shop.
A few of the hired mercenaries, some of whom are obviously sailors, and from the looks of them, they're likely to be pirates, glance at one another.
Then one of the mercenaries who has been employed by their leaders the longest, asks the overweight fellow who has stopped, and looked at them in surprise "What do you want?".
"To get me stuff" replies Dorc da Orc with a nod of his head towards the small warehouse.
The large ork who forced himself to not swear, which is more difficult than one can imagine.
Also spoke in a high pitched voice, in what he thinks a human sounds like.
Even then, his voice sounds deeper than most men, though not as growling and rumbling as it usually does.
"Gots to hurry, or boss get fuc, er angry" adds the ork warleader who is a general in the armies of Farque.
Who though is under an illusion spell cast by Saanea the witch. To his own eyes, he still looks like he normally does when he catches a glimpse of himself.
The mercenary who spoke looks at another standing next to him, who shrugs his shoulders.
The first one who spoke, then looks at the overweight young man again, and asks him "What do you need from in there?" as be gestures back at the small warehouse.
"Foods" says Dorkindle who beneath the illusion spell he's under, is more than a little annoyed. But on the outside, the illusion looks like it's in a hurry, and wants to get things done.
"He's probably right" quietly says the first mercenary to the one he looked at before.
"See if there's any food in there to be picked up" quietly adds the first mercenary.
"Will do" quietly says the second, who knows that those who have hired them, will be annoyed that they'll be interrupted.
As the second mercenary turns to the side door of the small warehouse, and knocks on it. The other mercenaries in the back courtyard behind Sharnd's shop closely watch the fat fellow standing there, looking like he's impatient to get what he's been told to get, and leave.
"What is it now?" says Brossic the flatland mercenary when one of the hired mercenaries out in the courtyard knocks on the side door again.
"Probably found that young woman" says Spranen the mercenary, who continues with "I'll just go and find out".
The mercenary, one of two in the core group of five, that's from the port town of Gilsom, walks over to the side door and opens it.
The others, Brossic, Halnard, Grunna the sorcerer and Sharnd the merchant. Watch as Spranen speaks with one of the hired mercenaries out in the courtyard.
They see Spranen crane his neck to look at something or someone further out in the courtyard.
Then Spranen looks back at the rest of the group who have plans to carve out their own nation up in the Maldin Hills, and tells them "There's a guy out here to pick up some stuff".
And though Halnard the mercenary, who is the most cautious of them, puts a hand on the hilt of his sword.
Sharnd the mercenary asks Spranen "What kind of stuff?".
"Food, i guess" is the reply of the mercenary from Gilsom at the side door.
Sharnd slightly frowns as he looks around at the shelves in the small warehouse that he owns.
And though he owns it, a number of other businesses in this part of Falmare store goods in the warehouse.
"From the cheese monger perhaps?" murmurs the lowland merchant who lives here in the town of Falmare.
As the only foodstuffs stored in here at this time of year are rounds of cheese.
"What does he look like?" asks Sharnd the merchant.
"Fat fellow" is the reply from Spranen after he glances outside again, then he adds "Young, might be a shop's apprentice by the looks of it, or a journeyman".
Sharnd nods as there is a rather fat young man working for Dahl the cheesemonger nowadays. Though he doesn't know it, but the fat fellow out in the courtyard that Spranen has seen, definitely doesn't work for the nearby cheesemonger.
"Tell him to come back later and pick it up" says Sharnd.
"He looks like he's in a hurry" says Spranen, who continues with "And has said his boss is angry and wants it now".
The lowland merchant slightly frowns, for all the years he has known the cheesemonger Dahl. He's never seen him angry, or seen him angry to any of his workers.
"That doesn't sound like something Dahl would do" murmurs Sharnd the merchant.
"What was that?" asks Brossic the mercenary, who leads the core group of five who have designs on creating a nation of their own up in the Maldin Hill country. "I said" says Sharnd the merchant.
Who doesn't get to finish what he was saying, as suddenly Spranen staggers backwards shouting "Fuck".
As one of the hired mercenaries outside comes flying backwards through the open door.
He couldn't wait any longer as he looked at the open door to the small warehouse. Where he saw one of those they've been after, and have been chasing from the Maldin Hills.
Infact, he remembers seeing this particular mercenary in the village that they and the rest of the mercenaries on their airship attacked.
So Dorc da Orc kicks out, kicking one of the hired mercenaries in the chest.
Who has a stunned look on his face, when such an overweight man is able to kick his leg up, and hit him square in the chest, with an awful lot of force too.
That mercenary goes flying backwards, hitting another one at the open door, who goes flying in through it, sending the mercenary who was standing just on the otherside, staggering backwards, shouting "Fuck!" in surprise.
From his weapon harness, Dorc da Orc takes a small hammer and a small axe. Well they're small for him.
The weapons can not be seen, for the simple reason he's holding them, and they were on him, when the illusion spell was cast upon him.
The large ork who is the warleader of his race, starts wading into the other hired mercenaries out here in the back courtyard between the shop owned by the Sharnd the merchant, and the small warehouse behind it.
Though the next of the mercenaries to drop, is another close to the open side door to the small warehouse.
He falls backwards through the door too. But with a crossbow bolt through his forehead.
"We're under attack!" shouts Spranen the mercenary, who gets up off the floor as another of the hired mercenaries out in the courtyard, falls back through the open side door, this one with a crossbow bolt in his skull.
Brossic, who thinks they've had far too many bad coincidences of late, says "No" and grabs Grunna the sorcerer by the arm. As the powerful spellcaster from further south along the coast of the Southlands, was about to hurry to the open side door.
"Back way?" asks Brossic the flatland mercenary as he looks at his fellow lowlander, Sharnd the merchant.
"The back door" says the merchant who owns the small warehouse they're in at the moment "This way" continues Sharnd, whose hometown they're in at this time.
The leader of the core group of five who have plans of carving out a nation of their own in the nearby Maldin Hills.
Has let go of the arm of the sorcerer Grunna, and tells him "Get ready for anything" as he nods in the direction that Sharnd has hurried off to.
And as they all follow the local merchant to one end of the small warehouse, they all hear a roar outside in the courtyard between the warehouse and Sharnd's trading shop.
It's a roar they've heard before. First in a village up in the Maldin Hills less than a week ago. Then again just a few days ago, in the port town of Gilsom.
To be exact in the shipbuilding yards of Gilsom, where their airship, well Sharnd's airship to be exact, that was being repaired, was burnt to the ground one night.
"It's that bloody fat troll again" mutters Halnard the mercenary as they rush to the back of the small warehouse.
Brossic nods in agreement, then says to the sorcerer Grunna "Be careful" followed by "That knight fellow could be around the back".
"I will be" says Grunna the sorcerer as they near the back door of the small warehouse.
They look back as Spranen runs up to the rest of them saying "There's a fat guy out there killing the men".
"That troll we saw up in the hill country?" asks Brossic, followed by "And again in Gilsom?".
"No" says Spranen with a shake of his head, he quickly adds "Definitely not that troll".
"Then what the hell is that?" demands Halnard as they hear another roar from out in the courtyard between the small warehouse and Sharnd's shop.
"How the hell do i know" says Spranen, who then nods to the door as he continues with "Let's go".
"Careful" says Brossic as Sharnd goes to open the door.
The lowland merchant nods, then stands to one side as he grabs the door handle, while Grunna the sorcerer steps forward.
The powerful spellcaster from further south along the coast nods his head, then Sharnd opens the door.
The sorcerer looks outside, and slightly steps back as one of the hired mercenaries runs by, heading around to the courtyard to see what's happening.
Grunna steps outside, with a barrier spell up infront of him, and quickly looks around, then he says to the others "It's clear".
"To the left" says Sharnd the merchant when he steps outside, he continues with "Head that way" as Brossic, Halnard then Spranen follow him outside.
They hurry off in that direction, heading towards a lane that leads away from the otherside of the small warehouse from the courtyard, and Sharnd's trading shop.
"Get ready" quietly says Tamric Drubine, who continues with "They'll probably come this way".
As he, along with Saanea the witch, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, and Shur Kee the monk wait in a small yard between two buildings on a street here in the east of the town of Falmare.
On the opposite side of the street they're on, away to the left a bit, is a lane.
Field commander Drubine who is standing behind sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who is crouching down at the corner of one of the buildings.
Puts a hand on one of the nobleborn knight's armoured shoulders, and quietly says to them "That lane across the street, to our left Percy" he then adds "A good chance they'll come from there" as they all hear Dorc da Orc roar from that direction.
"Very well then" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic as they wait for the mercenaries they've chased from the Maldin Hills to show up "Let us deal to these villains, wot" adds the former paladin, who then sourly smiles as once again he hears his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc roar again.
"Filthy beast" mutters Percy as he and the others wait in anticipation for those they've been after, to appear . . . . . .