The Lost Ones 73.

Summer. The Southlands. The Lowlands. The Town Of Falmare.

Dorc da Orc goes to roar and swing a punch at the nearest of the four stunned looking mercenaries after he smashes out through the back of the small house they're behind.
When he's hit square in the chest by a spell cast by Grunna the sorcerer, who at least had his wits about him.
The large ork is picked up, and goes flying backwards in the direction he's come from as he's struck by blast spell from the sorcerer who is from further south down the coast of the Southlands.
The ork warleader grunts and sourly smiles as he goes back through the safe house he's just run through.
Dorkindle who is safe from the spell hitting his body, due to the plate of black, natural dragon armour he wears over his chest, and much of his ample stomach.
Winces in anticipation as he goes flying backwards out the front of the small abode he's smashed his way into.
Though as he goes flying back across the street, in the direction of the house that's opposite the safe house.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world can't help but grin at the sensation of flying. Something he's always enjoyed in his life.
As he watched Dorc da Orc come smashing through the front door of the house opposite the safe house. Then run across the street, and run through the front wall of the small abode that the mercenaries they're after, are hiding behind.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic can't help but sourly smile at the actions of his bitter rival, the ork weaponsmith who is a general in the armies of Farque.
The former paladin who hopes the large ork knocks himself out as he runs head first into the safe house. Has no such luck, as Dorkindle smashes through the front wall of the small abode.
"Damn wooden houses, wot" mutters sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who is frankly disappointed that most of the houses here in the large lowland town of Falmare, are constructed of wood, instead of brick or stone.
As he knows his bitter rival, the ork warleader would have a hell of a lot more trouble if the houses here in Falmare were made from brick or stone.
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, who has stood up, and is about to make his way to the small abode that Dorc da Orc has just run into.
Hears a slight thud from that direction, and a moment or two later. He sees the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world. Come flying backwards out of the hole he created when he ran through the front wall of the safe house.
The member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che stands there in the street. Watching as the ork general goes flying at a height of about five feet, backwards across the street.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, who is pretty sure the ork weaponsmith is trying to flap his arms.
Sees Dorkindle turn his head, and look in his direction. The warleader of the ork race who has a grin upon his broad, green, brutish looking face.
Scowls when he spots the heavily armoured knight standing there watching him.
Then the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks smashes into the house that's opposite the safe house.
The large ork misses the open doorway that he smashed through previously. But hits the wall just to the right of it.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, sends wood flying in all directions, as he smashes into the house he first ran out of.
Standing there in the middle of the street, there's a moment of silence from sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Then the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic grins, and guffaws. Then he laughs, it's near silent laughter, as he doubles over, and holds his sides after seeing what just happened to Dorc da Orc.
The former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of the kingdom of Druvic. Wheezes with laughter after he hears a loud groan come from the house that's directly across the street from the safe house.
Then the large, heavily armoured knight lifts the faceplate of his full helm, wipes the tears of laughter from his face, as he remembers what he's actually supposed to be doing.
Then after slapping shut the faceplate of his full helm, the former paladin lifts up the shield of Saint Mar-che that's on his left arm. And he draws the sword of knockdown, that he holds in his right gauntleted hand.
Sir Percavelle or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group makes his way to the safe house that the mercenaries he and the others are after, are hiding behind.
Lisell Maera the messenger, using the appearance of Dorc da Orc bursting through the front door of the house directly opposite the safe house the mercenaries are using.
Crosses the street, from the corner of the house she's been standing around.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, looks up and down the street she's on. And sees no one on it, apart from sir Percavelle Lé Dic, and the dead body of the local merchant, Sharnd.
The messenger in the scouts and ramgers division of the armies of Farque. Keeping close to the front of homes and buildings, starts making her way down the street.
Towards where sir Percavelle Lé Dic is, and where Dorc da Orc has just run into the front of the safe house that the mercenaries they're after are using.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well. Briefly looks down and checks her crossbow.
When she looks back up, the messenger or runner as they're sometimes referred to.
Blinks in surprise, and pauses as she sees Dorc da Orc go flying backwards across the street. Then smash through the front wall, and into the house that's opposite the safe house the mercenaries are hiding behind.
Lis then sourly smiles as she sees sir Percavelle Lé Dic double over, and shake. It's obvious the large, heavily armoured knight is silently laughing at what he just saw.
After a few moments, the former paladin finally gets control of himself, and raises his magical shield, and draws his magical sword.
Then the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, makes his way towards the safe house.
While the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands, whose mother was a prostitute on the streets of Brattonbury. And whose father, a man she never knew or met, was a sailor.
Gets moving again after she glances towards the house opposite the safe house, that Dorc da Orc went smashing into.
The messenger in the armies of Farque as she makes her way down this side of the street, also makes her way towards the safe house. Which she sees sir Percavelle Lé Dic enter, as he walks through the large hole in the front wall that was created when Dorc da Orc ran through it.
In a lane at the back of a house, Tamric Drubine the field commander shares a look with Shur Kee the monk, while behind them Saanea the witch quietly asks "What was that this time?".
As they all heard another thump or thud, come from around the front of the house.
"Friend Dorc perhaps?" quietly says Shur Kee the monk with a look at the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Probably" dryly murmurs Tamric Drubine the field commander, who looks through the open backdoor, that the woman who was inside the house, ran out of screaming of, when Dorc da Orc entered the house through the backdoor.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque enters the house, and a moment later is followed by Shur Kee the monk, and Saanea the witch, who is holding her power within herself at the moment.
The nobleborn teenager who is the son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin. Hurries forward through the house when he hears a groan.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Hurries into the front room where he finds a groaning Dorc da Orc, lying amongst bits of debris and broken wood.
And as the senior officer in the armies of Farque kneels down beside the ork warleader. And as Shur Kee the monk, then Saanea the witch follow him into the front room of the house.
Tam looks through the large hole in the front of the building, next to the front door that's no longer there.
And he spots across the street, sir Percavelle Lé Dic after peeking inside the small abode across there. He enters the safe house through a hole in the front wall.
A hole, like the one in the front wall of this particular residence. Which no doubt, like the one across the street in the front of the safe house, was created by Dorc da Orc as he ran through the houses.
"Dorc you okay?" quietly asks Tam as the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world groans once more.
"Dorc fine" gasps Dorc da Orc who is definitely winded as he lies there on the floor, covered in bits of debris from the wall he just came flying back through.
"Fucken magicky cunt" mutters the large ork between gasps as he tries to get his breath back.
The ork warleader is battered and bruised, but nothing worse than that. Thanks to the plate of natural dragon armour he wears over his chest and ample stomach.
Shur Kee the monk kneels down next to the ork weaponsmith and asks him "Do you need a healing potion friend Dorc?".
The ork general makes a face of disgust, then mutters in a growl "Fuck that shit".
As he's of the opinion he'd rather get hit again by whatever spell that just got him, than to take a healing potion. Especially one made by Helbe the elven thief. Which is all that any of them have got at the moment.
Saanea the witch stands a little bit back from the others. For the simple reason that the ork weaponsmith stinks. More so now because he's been running around and doing things, on this warm summer's day here in the lowland town of Falmare.
"Get up Dorc" says Tamric Drubine who nods to the otherside of the street, where he sees Lisell Maera come into view near the safe house the mercenaries they're after, are using.
"We've got to help Lis and Percy" adds the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then wincing, and with the help of both field commander Drubine, and Shur Kee the monk, he's able to sit up.
Meanwhile, across the street, behind the safe house that's owned by Sharnd the merchant, who lies dead out in the middle of the street.
Brossic the lowland mercenary, the mercenaries Spranen and Halnard from the port town of Gilsom, and the sorcerer from further down the coast of the Southlands, Grunna.
All look at one another after what just happened.
Then Brossic the lowland mercenary looks at the powerful spellcaster and asks him "Think you killed it?".
"I damn well hope so" is the reply from Grunna the sorcerer, who hit the large green creature with a fairly powerful blast spell.
After they all look at one another again, Halnard the mercenary steps towards the hole in the back wall of the safe house, and he looks through it.
He backs quickly away, and to the side, and quietly and quickly says to the others "That knight". As he caught sight of the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che who attacked them earlier. Just enter the safe house from the otherside.
Brossic, Spranen and Grunna all move to the side as well, so they can't be seen by the knight who has just entered the small abode.
The lowland mercenary Brossic, quickly looks at Grunna, and the sorcerer faintly winces, then quietly says "I don't know if i can deal to him so easily".
The spellcaster from the down the coast of the Southlands quietly tells the others "Try and get that shield off him" followed by "That's our best chance".
Then looking at the back of the safe house, and noticing that the backdoor is still intact. As the large green creature they still think is a troll, just ran straight through the back wall itself.
Grunna quickly and quietly says to the other three mercenaries "Back away" followed by "Move out of the way" as he gestures at both the hole in the back wall of the safe house, as well as the closed backdoor.
They all move to one side, so that they're next to the rickety set of steps that go up to the roof.
And Grunna, who once again is holding his power within himself. Gets ready to take hold of his magical power and cast a spell, as he looks at both the hole in the back wall of the safe house, as well as the backdoor itself.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic, against type really. Steps quietly into the small house, going through the large hole in the front wall.
And after he stands in the front room and looks around. The large heavily armoured knight who usually charges into situations.
Moves quietly forward, heading towards the back of the house, trying not to make too much noise as he does so.
That nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic who has the shield of Saint Mar-che up before him, and the sword of knockdown in his right gauntleted hand.
Listens carefully as he makes his way through the small house, which is located in the affluent neighbourhood in the south of the town of Falmare.
The former earl of Lé Dic nods his full helmed head as he's certain he hears a conversation from behind the small abode.
He doesn't know what's said, but he now knows that those he and the others are after, are definitely behind the small house.
Stepping through the hole in the wall created by Dorc da Orc when he ran through here. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic stands in the back room of the safe house.
Where he looks at both the closed backdoor, and the large hole in the back wall that's next to.
And though the former earl of Lé Dic doesn't hear anything at the moment, he looks carefully, and sees through the hole in the back wall, a shadow on the ground outside that slightly moves.
Behind the faceplate of his full helm, the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic grins.
And with the shield of Saint Mar-che out infront of him, Percy moves forward. And when he gets closer to the back wall of the safe house, he rushes forward towards the hole in the wall.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic goes to leap out of the back of the safe house through the hole in the wall.
As he does, the backdoor is suddenly ripped off it's hinges and goes outwards. It's swung around in midair, and swings back around to smash right into the heavily armoured knight as he leaps out of the hole in the back wall of the safe house.
"Saint Mar-che!" yelps the former paladin as the door slams into him, and smashes him sideways into the ground.
His breath can be heard exiting his lungs, when he hits the ground, where sir Percavelle Lé Dic groans.
And as he groans, the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic hears someone say "Get it!".
And the next thing he knows, someone is grabbing his shield, and trying to yank it off his left arm, as he lies there on the ground battered and bruised, with his breath knocked out of him . . . . . .