Winter. The Lands Farque.
If the teenage army recruits based in the town of Gildin Dale, in northwest Farque.
Thought it was going to be easy immediately after the midwinter's festival. They are sadly mistaken.
For the next morning, they're woken well before dawn. And all four groups, are ordered out onto the grounds just to the west of the town.
Where they're told to do one of the courses twice before midmorning.
Many of them as they struggle through the courses. Regret all the food they ate yesterday. As well as all the wine and ale they had to drink.
Quite a lot of them in all four groups, can be seen getting sick throughout the morning. Wishing that they didn't partake in yesterday's festivities so much.
After they complete the courses before midmorning. They spend the rest of the morning completing a number of equations they're given.
They have to complete them verbally, unable to write them down. As they work out range and distances, and angles for imagined artillery attacks.
Then after a rather spare meal at midday. All four groups are sent off along the north trail from town.
And this is an out and out race. For whoever completes the trail first as a team.
Will get the rest of the afternoon and early evening off to clean, polish and detail their weapons and gear.
While the other three groups will be made to do one of the courses out on the grounds when they get back to Gildin Dale.
Even though the teenage recruits from throughout northwestern Farque.
Have run the five or so miles to the north through the forest, to the bluff that sticks up out of the forest floor. And the same distance back. Numerous times so far this winter, as they've trained.
It's never been done so quickly as it's been done this particular afternoon.
For even though nearly all of the Farqian army recruits are exhausted after this morning. Following the long, and rather indulgent day and night they had yesterday.
Not one of them wants to do another of the courses out on the grounds when they get back to town.
Unfortunately for the first, second, and fourth groups.
That's exactly what they end up having to do. As the third group are the first to complete as a group, the north trail.
Which they're more than thankful for. Especially after the violent beating a lot of them took in the kickball game they lost to the first group yesterday morning.
After the day's training is complete in the early afternoon. All four groups are totally exhausted. Especially groups one, two and three.
Then early the next morning, well before dawn. They're up early again. And the training gets even more harder. Making the previous day's look absolutely easy in comparison.
Then four days after the midwinter's day festival. New recruits arrive in Gildin Dale by airship.
There's only two of them, and they disembark as the crew starts unloading the supplies they've also brought along.
The first group who have just spent all morning on the grounds, made to do all three of the courses before the midday meal.
Are heading back to the large house that is their barracks. Where they'll have a quick bite to eat. Before the training for the afternoon starts.
They see the two new arrivals speaking with field commander Tamric Drubine and sir Morcin the undead avenger.
And though the two new recruits, one a girl, and the other boy. Both look to be human. One of them isn't.
While the other, though a human being. She is more than what she seems.
Seeing the first group, soaked and mud covered. Heading back to their house.
The field commander who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque. Waves them over, and tells them to take the two new recruits to what's essentially the barracks and show them around.
And the two teenagers who have just arrived into town on an airship. Won't be joining one of the groups specifically. For they'll be training alongside all four of the groups of recruits at various times. And with good reason.
For the teenage girl who has just arrived in Gildin Dale, is a spellcaster. To be exact, a mage.
While the teenage boy who has flown in upon an transporter. Is even more unique. As he's not a human, but is a water elemental from one of the fishing villages along the coast of the lands Farque.
And unlike the teenage army recruits who have been training throughout the winter here in Gildin Dale.
The two newly arrived recruits already know what they're going to be doing once they're in one of their lord's armies.
They've been training during the winter too. But now they've been brought here to Gildin Dale to see how they work together with others.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic walks into town, in the afternoon. Following behind the second group. Who have been out on the north trail this afternoon.
They didn't really run the trail to the bluff more than five miles to the north through the forest and back again.
Considering all ten of the recruits in the second group are carrying packs weighing eighty pounds each.
From the smallest to the largest in the group. They all had packs with eighty pounds of rocks and stones in them.
And they all had to bring them back, still weighing eighty pounds. Which the exhausted recruits have done under the fairly watchful eye of sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Who sourly smiles as he hears a grunt, followed by a muttered oath in a language, the heavily armoured knight doesn't understand. And definitely doesn't want to understand, ever.
For Dorc da Orc also came along this afternoon. And didn't keep much of an eye upon the recruits.
The large ork, who suggested the recruits should of carried even heavier packs along the forest trail to the north of Gildin Dale.
Loudly sniffs, and once again grunts, and mutters in his native language.
"What's up that sizeable nose of yours, beast?" demands sir Percavellé Lé Dic the knight, who glares back at the ork warleader following behind him.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, is about to tell the former paladin to get fucked, and to fucking die.
When he reconsiders, and slightly grins, for if he tells the nobleborn knight originally from the kingdom of Druvic.
It's bound to annoy the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
As they head through town, following the recruits, carrying the heavy, rock filled packs.
Dorc da Orc says to the former earl of Lé Dic "There's a new fucken magicky cunt in town".
Sir Percavellé, or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Has a disapproving look upon his face as he lifts up the visor of his full helm.
For the nobleman who hails from the east of the kingdom of Druvic, dislikes spellcasters, and practitioners of magic.
The ork general softly chuckles, then all of a sudden, he too frowns as he catches the scent of someone else new to the town of Gildin Dale.
"The fuck?" says Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name, as the scent of this new person, is something he is certain he doesn't like.
A scowl appears on the broad, green, brutish looking face of the ork weaponsmith.
As the person's scent he dislikes so much, smells like water.
The big ork, who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
Then sourly smiles, and loudly mutters "Fucknuts". As he recalls who has such a scent. A water elemental.
The two of them, the knight and the general. Follow the group of recruits back to the houses on the northeast side of town, that's essentially their barracks.
There, many of the returning group have to be helped with taking their packs off, and taken inside by the other recruits who have already finished for the day.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic and the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Spot field commander Drubine on the front portico of one of the houses the recruits use.
And as evening takes hold, Percy and Dorkindle make their way over to the nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
As they're to report to him, how the recruits fared this afternoon on the north trail through the forest.
As sir Percavellé Lé Dic speaks with the young field commander.
The ork warleader who won't voluntarily say anything about what happened this afternoon, unless the senior officer asks him to.
Frowns as he looks in through one of the glass windows at the front of the house, as the temperature drops as nightfall takes effect.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks spots one of the new arrivals inside.
A teenage girl, who absolutely stinks of magic to the warleader of the ork race.
Who figures she must be quite powerful in magic, even though she's fairly small for a human that age.
The ork general in the armies of Farque then sourly smiles, then makes a face of disgust.
As the second new arrival walks into view inside the house.
The teenage boy, only thirteen or fourteen, is quite tall, already standing over six foot. Though very lean. Gangly is the best word to describe him.
Who if the teenage girl reeked of magic. Then he absolutely pongs of water to the nose of the large ork.
Dorkindle grunts as the young field commander tells the general and the knight.
What exactly, the ork warleader isn't that certain about. After all, he wasn't paying attention.
So he turns to see what the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin is going on about.
"They're two new arrivals" says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who continues on with "Sarill is from down in the Winter Palace, she's a mage".
Both the knight and the general scowl when they hear that. As they know how unpredictable mages can be. Not to mention how powerful in magic they are.
"And the other is Alisian" says the young field commander who then adds "He's from a village on the coast, and he's".
"One of them water fucks" says Dorc da Orc in disgust as he interrupts the senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"If you mean a water elemental Dorc, then yes he's a water elemental" says Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, who continues with "The most rarest of the water elementals too, a spouter".
The ork weaponsmith grunts, while the nobleborn knight murmurs "Hmmmmm" in an unconvincing tone.
The two of them have never liked things or people that are out of the ordinary. Which is exactly what they are. Though they would never admit it to anyone, or themselves.
The son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Looks at the heavily armoured knight, and the large ork. Who are more alike than they realise. It's why they're such fierce competitors, and such bitter rivals.
Not that they'll ever figure that out, Tam dryly thinks to himself, who then tells them "They won't join one of the groups as such" he follows that with "But they'll work with each group of recruits".
The senior officer in the armies of Farque, then says "They're actually much further along in their training than our groups, which is necessary considering who they are, and what they can do".
Field commander Drubine continues with "Though they're here to see how they work alongside others, the main reason they're here is to see how our recruits can work with such powerful people".
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who was found by Dorc da Orc and a couple of the others in the group when he was just eight years old.
Briefly pauses before he says "They're also here to see how our recruits can face adversary, and how they react to it".
Both the nobleborn knight and the ork warleader look in through the window.
Where they see the two new arrivals, the mage Sarill, and the water elemental spouter Alisian. Chatting with a few of the recruits of the first group.
Once again the ork weaponsmith grunts, and the former paladin murmurs "Hmmmmm".
The two new arrivals glance out the window at the same time. And are taken aback at the sight of the two looking in through the window at them.
Well, more taken aback at the sight of the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world. Than they are at the sight of the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
As the recruits in the first group they're chatting to, explain who the large ork, and the heavily armoured knight are.
Outside on the portico, Tamric Drubine is saying to Dorc and Percy "I trust you two can work with the two new recruits then?".
The young field commander who knows exactly how both the ork general and the knight, can be when they're around spellcasters and others with extraordinary abilities.
Continues on with "No complaining and moaning about them?".
"I, the great sir Percavellé doth not complain and moan about anything" says Percy, who then with a sideways glance at his bitter rival, adds "Unless it's this smelly, overgrown by blow of a demon here, wot".
"What you call me cunt?" says a confused looking Dorc da Orc, who follows that with "And you fucken bitch about everything and anything ya dickface shithead".
"Doth not" says the former paladin, which illicits a snort of derision from the large ork.
Field commander Drubine rolls his eyes, then says to the two of them "No matter" followed by "You'll start work with the two new recruits in the morning".
The bitter rivals scowl as they glance sideways at one another.
Then the ork general grunts, while the heavily armoured knight murmurs "Hmmmmm" at the prospect of working with the two new arrivals . . . . . .
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