The General & The Knight 10.

Winter. The Nation Of Farque.

Tamric Drubine the field commander and Saanea the witch share a look as they watch Dorc da Orc stagger to the end of the course, here on the grounds to the west of the town of Gildin Dale.
It's the third time in a week the large ork has completed one of the courses.
Though today, the ork warleader skipped the water obstacles in a hundred and fifty yard section of the second course. The first time he's been on this particular course.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world got out of doing that section of the course.
For the simple reason the undead wardog Axe isn't around this morning. The massive canine wandered off sometime last night, and no one has seen him since.
As usual when the ork general is on the grounds doing one of the courses.
His bitter rival, the knight from the kingdom of Druvic, sir Percavellé Lé Dic is also here.
The heavily armoured knight has again beaten the large ork to the end of the course, even with the ork weaponsmith skipping the water obstacles.
Though Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, wasn't too far behind the former paladin who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
As the two of them, as is typical, finish behind the group of teenage recruits doing the course.
And that's with the recruits, usually helping out one or the other of their supposed instructors.
Usually the general in their lord's army. As he's the one most likely to need their help as he clears one of the obstacles.
Field commander Drubine still can't get over the fact that ten teenagers, usually pulling on one end of a rope that Dorc is holding onto.
Help him over a wall or obstacle he has trouble getting over or around.
The nobleborn field commander, originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is still a teenager himself.
Figures the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world.
Who a couple of weeks ago was closer to eight hundred pounds in weight.
Is now closer to his seven hundred and fifty pound weight, that the young field commander would consider is the ork warleader's fighting weight.
The two lovers, the field commander and the witch watch as the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
Slumps to the ground, where he sits breathing heavily, on a morning that as usual started off foggy. Is now clear and sunny, though very cold.
The only one happy it's so cold, is the ork general himself. Who sits there gasping for breath after completing the course.
While nearby, sits his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic. On a rock beneath a tree, and the nobleborn knight originally from the kingdom of Druvic, is breathing heavily too. Though he's not gasping like the warleader of the ork race.
Meanwhile the recruits, all ten of them. Being much younger, and quite frankly, more physically fit than either Dorc da Orc and sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Have pretty much recuperated, and are getting back to the feet. And heading to the path that Tamric and Saanea are on. The path that leads back to town.
As it's nearing midday, Tamric Drubine the field commander says to the recruits "After your meal, I'll be taking you for your lessons this afternoon in the first house".
Referring to the largest of the four houses over on the northeast side of town, that act as the barracks for the recruits who are in the winter intake, for the northwest of the lands Farque.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Who has no idea if he'll be here in Gildin Dale in the summertime to help train a new intake of recruits for the armies of Farque.
Follows that with "Make sure you have all the necessary materials you'll need" he continues on with "Some of the examples will be rather involved".
The recruits, only five or so years younger than the field commander. Nod to him and the witch from the Maldin Hills, as they walk by them on the path, back to town.
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.
After the last of the ten teenage recruits walks by, and head back to Gildin Dale. Makes his way over to where Dorc da Orc and sir Percavellé Lé Dic are.
The pretty looking hillwoman who happens to be a practitioner of magic. Walks alongside him, glances at him, and lifts a questioning eyebrow.
"Dorc will be useful for this afternoon's lesson" quietly says Tam in the elven language, which he's been teaching Saanea since the summer, just after they first met.
"Surprisingly" dryly adds the young field commander in the armies of Farque after the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills gives him a rather sceptical look.
The two of them stop not far from the bitter rivals. And as field commander Drubine looks at them. He wouldn't be surprised if sir Percavellé Lé Dic decides to come along as well. Just to try and prove a point or two against his bitter rival the ork warleader.
"Dorc I'll be taking this group for a lesson in battlefield tactics this afternoon" says the nobleborn teen who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque, who gestures back to the group of recruits heading back to town.
"I want you to help me out" adds the young field commander, who knows that Dorkindle, for all that he's a crazed killer, and totally mad like all orks are.
Is also a total genius when it comes to the flow and ebb of a battle. It's why lord Farque named him the warleader of the ork race all those years ago.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks looks up from where he's sitting, still breathing heavily after completing the course here on the grounds to the west of Gildin Dale.
The ork weaponsmith is about to protest, simply by telling Tam to get fucked.
But instead he just grunts after the field commander Drubine adds "Or you can run out with the group doing the north trail this afternoon".
After clearing his throat, Dorc da Orc says "Yeah cunt, me helps you".
With a frown upon his face, sir Percavellé Lé Dic says "I shall come along and help too" quickly followed by "No doubt this big, smelly buffoon will steer these youngsters wrong with his blithering ideas and notions, wot".
Tam refrains from smiling as Dorkindle scowls at his bitter rival the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
Who sits there on a rock, basically looking down his rather aristocratic nose at the large ork who is his rival in about everything they do.
The ork general just snorts at that from the heavily armoured knight. As he doesn't particularly care what the former paladin gets up to.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world. Knows that the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic is always going to be annoying in some way. So he just accepts it.
Besides the large ork can't understand half of what the former earl of Lé Dic goes on about.
He just figures it's something derogatory directed at him most of the time.
So most of the time, he just yells back at the nobleborn knight who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Looking at the two rivals, who are basically the same age, with sir Percavellé or Percy as he's more commonly called, now forty five years old.
As is Dorc da Orc. Kind of. As the exact age of an ork, any ork really. Is more than a little difficult to define.
As accuracy in the aging of an ork is something no one really thinks of. Including orks themselves.
Who all have the same nameday, the first day of the southern polar winter.
Which also tends to confuse things.
Even the undead of the lands Farque, including the lord and ruler of the lands that bare his family's name.
Who can accurately see how the living are. Have difficulty determining the age of orks.
And lord Farque who has known Dorkindle for nearly twenty five years. Can only say that the ork warleader is in his mid forties.
It doesn't help that Dorc doesn't know his own age himself. As he often thinks he's still in his twenties some days. While others, he's around fifty or so.
"I'll meet you in the first house after the midday meal" says Tamric Drubine to the two rivals.
He then nods to the two of them, then along with Saanea the witch. He turns and heads back along the path that goes alongside the second course here on the grounds.
And start making their way back to the town of Gildin Dale. Which is where the army recruits here in northwest Farque, live and train.
At the prospect of food, and drink. Dorc da Orc is suddenly not so exhausted.
With a groan and a few muttered swear words in his native language, the large ork gets to his feet.
Not wanting to be left behind, sir Percavellé scrambles off the large rock he's been sitting on.
The landed and ordered knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic. Who definitely doesn't want to be trailing his bitter rival. Hurries by the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
And gets onto the path back to Gildin Dale before the warleader of the ork race.
Who he hates to come second to. Even if it's just a walk back to town.
That's how much their rivalry is. Where even just small, insignificant things. Become something between the two of them.
Usually something one or the other couldn't care less about. But to the other, it would mean everything.
As it is now. With Percy thinking that getting back to Gildin Dale before Dorkindle is the most important thing in the world at this moment.
While for Dorc da Orc, he couldn't give a shit about who gets back to town first between the two of them.
What the ork warleader is concerned about right at this moment. Is what he can find to eat and drink for the midday meal.
As that's his priority at the moment. Not who can get back to Gildin Dale first between him and his bitter rival.
The nobleborn knight who is the former earl of Lé Dic. Which is his family's fief in eastern Druvic.
Tamric Drubine looks back, and sees the ork general and the knight. Are up and about, and are on the path back to town.
The young field commander, who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
Faintly smiles as he knows the two bitter rivals. Wouldn't be moving quickly, heading back to Gildin Dale. If the other wasn't there, heading back to town, just as quickly as the other.
The nobleborn teenager who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Is just glad the rivals, unwittingly. Spur one another on. Even though for the most part, they don't know it.
Tamric Drubine, or Tam as more often than not, he's called by those who know him well.
Is also glad with the rivalry between the general and the knight. It keeps the two of them out of trouble.
Well, a lot of trouble. In the opinion of the young field commander in the armies of Farque.
This is Dorc and Percy after all. Who will find trouble when there isn't any to be found.
The two bitter rivals, who for years did their best to kill one another whenever they faced one another in battle.
Can't entirely be trusted all the time. It's why he has Saanea have her familiar discreetly follow either the ork warleader or the nobleborn knight throughout the day.
Especially since after the incident when Dorkindle fell back asleep after sending a group of the recruits out on the day long, east trail.
Where they ended up getting attacked by a mob of Aellothos. Who had been driven south into northwestern Farque by inclement weather.
When Tam and Saanea get back to their house here in Gildin Dale. The young field commander has his lover put her familiar onto watching Dorc da Orc for a little while.
As the two of them have something to eat for their midday meal, Saanea the witch sits at the table, with her eyes closed saying "He's around back, eating the rest of that haunch of deer he cooked last night".
As the dark haired, pretty looking spellcaster from the Maldin Hills opens her eyes. Tam rolls his, thinking about the large ork behind the house.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world purchased a deer from one of the townsmen who shot it yesterday.
And wanting a cooked meal, the ork weaponsmith built a fire behind the house that Tamric Drubine and Saanea live in.
And proceeded to cook the deer. Though cook is too strong of a word. The large ork burnt the deer. And both the young field commander and the witch had to put out the fire before it set their house alight.
Now the warleader of the ork race who tends to sleep outside behind the house the lovers live in.
Is munching on the haunch of a rather burnt looking deer. While on the woodpile on the back covered portico of the house. Sits a cat watching the ork general.
As Saanea's familiar watches Dorkindle. The large ork squats on the ground, chewing on the haunch of burnt venison. While watching the house next door.
The house that his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic lives in with Shur Kee the monk.
And though the short, statured monk is away with one of the other groups of recruits today.
The former paladin is in the house, having something to eat for lunch just like he is.
As Dorc da Orc chews away on his burnt haunch of venison, thinking about how good it would be if his bitter rival chokes on whatever he's eating for lunch.
Inside the house the ork weaponsmith is behind, Tamric Drubine the field commander finishes his meal, then asks Saanea "What are your plans for this afternoon?".
"I'll go over to the learning center and help with the children's afternoon lessons" says the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills, who is the newest member of the group.
"They always need a hand over there, now that some of the tutors help out with the recruits" adds the pretty looking hillwoman.
Who during the summer, when she first met Tam and the others. She would never thought she would be here in this strange land, living this life. Or that she would be the lover of the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin who is four years younger than her.
The senior officer in the armies of Farque nods to that, and after he kisses Saanea, and tells her he'll see her this evening.
The young field commander makes his way out the backdoor of the house.
"Ready Dorc?" asks Tamric Drubine as he looks at the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world.
"Yeah cunt" mumbles the ork general who is gnawing on the leg bone that he's stripped of all meat.
Before they head off, the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks hurries over to the shed next to the house.
Which is usually used for storing firewood. But now holds barrels of ale and wine that the large ork has purchased.
It's why there's a woodpile on the covered back portico of the house that Tam and Saanea live in.
After Dorkindle gets himself a barrel of ale, and he and field commander Drubine head off to the north end of town, to the houses that are essentially the barracks of the recruits training and living here in Gildin Dale.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic hurries out of the house he lives in after seeing the two of them head off.
The heavily armoured knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic follows the young field commander, and the ork general who is his rival.
The former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che doesn't what to let his bitter rival out of his sight for too long.
As who knows what the ork warleader will get up to. Most likely something untowards and disgusting in the opinion of the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
As next to him, Dorc da Orc mutters something foul in his native language, and scowls about something.
Tamric Drubine glances behind them, and spots sir Percavellé Lé Dic hurrying to catch up to them.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque refrains from smiling.
And is just glad he can keep an eye on the bitter rivals, the general and the knight, so that they can't get into too much trouble this afternoon. Or so Tam hopes . . . . . .