The General & The Knight 44.

First Day Of Spring. The Border Region.

Hamblin the teenage army recruit nudges his fellow recruit Golmard who has dozed off beside him.
Yawning as he wakes up, Golmard the teenage army recruit says "Now i know why they made us run so many bloody times through the forest".
The largest of the teens in the first group of recruits, infact the largest in all four of the groups who lived and trained in the forest town of Gildin Dale throughout most of the winter. Before they came out to the coast to complete their training.
Then says "It's for situations like this" Golmard briefly pauses before he continues on with "Though i didn't expect to put our training into use so quickly".
Next to him, Hamblin nods in agreement as he continues to look through his brass, cylindrical eyepiece.
The two of them are lying on top of a hill, just within the edge of some trees.
A few miles north of the border of their lord's lands, from what Hamblin can deduce from the maps he has.
The teenage army recruit who though only thirteen years old, is the unofficial leader of the first group.
Is looking away to the east, watching the twin masted airship that's been pursuing them since yesterday afternoon.
"You know what" says Hamblin the teenage recruit.
"What?" asks Golmard, who can see the pursuing vessel with the naked eye in the distance. Though no where near as clearly as Hamblin.
"If my calculations are correct, I'm pretty sure today is the first day of spring" says the recruit who is from the farming village of Polsten, which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of the forest town of Gildin Dale in northwestern Farque.
"It is?" asks Golmard, Hamblin nods yes in reply as he continues to look through the eyepiece at the airship away to the east.
"Damn" says the larger of the two teenage army recruits, who then adds in a disappointed tone "We're missing festival day".
Hamblin wryly smiles, as he hadn't even thought of the festival day, today. Which is a celebration of both the end of winter, and the start of spring.
The unofficial leader of the first group of teenage army recruits smiles, then quietly chuckles when Golmard sighs and says in a dejected tone of voice "All the pies and spring cider we're missing out on" followed by "If i knew being in the armies of our lord was going to be like this, i would never of joined".
Hamblin just shakes his head as he continues to smile. As he thinks about them and their training and joining the armies of Farque.
As if he and Golmard and the rest of their group. Along with the other recruits from across the northwest of the lands Farque. Had any say in the matter.
They didn't volunteer, they were chosen at a young age to be in the armies of their lord.
Hamblin knew when he was about six years old. After a couple of years attending the small learning center in the village of Polsten. That he was going to go in his lord's armies.
The instructor in the center told him so. As he and the other children were all tested to see if they had the right temperament to be a soldier of their lord.
This didn't make them special in anyway. Infact his childhood instructor told Hamblin that the rest of his family were just as important. If not more important, considering they're farmers. Who provide for the village of Polsten, and elsewhere across the northwest of Farque.
It's instilled into all Farqian children at a young age. That those who become soldiers in the armies of their lord.
Are to protect the rest of the people of their nation. And to fight where their lord tells them to.
Hamblin knows that no matter where he ends up in the armies of Farque after he completes his training.
And whatever rank he may end up having. He'll never be more important than his parents and siblings, a brother and sister.
Who till the fields on their farm, and produce dairy from their herd of cows.
Equality is one of the cornerstones of their nation. Being part of it ever since the first mysterious Farque thousands of years ago.
Arrived out of nowhere in the area around what is now The Citadel, the capital of the lands Farque.
And began what is now the largest nation, in size at least, within the Southlands.
"Maybe they'll have some left over when we get back across the border" quietly says Hamblin as the two of them continue to converse in the elven language.
"I hope so" says Golmard in a wistful tone of voice, who can't believe for the first time in his life. He's only fourteen years old. That he's going to miss the spring day festival celebrations.
The two of them look back as they hear a thump, followed by "Fucken branch cunt" in the deep, growling familiar voice of the ork general, Dorc da Orc.
The large ork, who has just punched a branch off a tree that got in his way.
Grunts as he makes his way forward, and gets down next to the two teenage recruits.
Who refrain from screwing up their faces in disgust, as the ork warleader absolutely reeks at the moment.
The warmer temperatures of the last couple of weeks out on the coast, and the last few days they've been here in the unruled lands north of the border.
Definitely hasn't helped the odour coming off the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Both Hamblin and Golmard think that being around the ork weaponsmith in the cold of the middle of winter.
Is a lot more preferable than being around him now, as the days heat up, now that it's actually spring.
"Hmmmmm" murmurs the ork general in the armies of Farque as he looks off into the distance at the airship away to the east.
"What they fucken doin' there?" asks the ork warleader with a nod of his large head in the direction of the vessel that's been pursuing them since yesterday.
"Going around in circles" says Hamblin, who continues with "Looking for signs of us i bet".
Next to the unofficial leader of the first group, his fellow recruit Golmard nods in agreement.
"Bunch of no good shithead cunts" mutters the ork weaponsmith.
Who keeps looking towards the airship away to the east, which is trying to find which way they've gone.
The three of them can't see it, as there's too many hills, along with woods here and there, that are in the way.
But they assume, rightly as it turns out. That the airship, which is a former cargo vessel. Is flying over some of the raiders on the ground, who are searching for their tracks.
Hamblin and Golmard look back as they hear someone approaching. It's their fellow recruit Maselle, who joins them.
The teenage girl does the smart thing, and lies down next to Golmard. As faraway as possible from the rather smelly ork warleader.
"Still searching for us i see" quietly says Maselle the teenage recruit.
"Yep" is the reply from Golmard, who takes out a travel biscuit from his pack, and starts chewing on.
Glad that it's a recently baked one, and not one that's weeks, if not months old, which are always rock hard.
Maselle looks over Golmard, and quietly says to Hamblin "Jinsa has gone about a mile south, and come back" she continues with "She says the way to the border looks fairly clear, plenty of game trails going in that direction so we should be able to cover that ground more quickly".
Hamblin nods, then looks away to the south, where they can see the border to their homeland, just under three miles away.
There's a few hills that way, and a lot more in the way of trees too. As this is pretty much the last area where there's woods. As the further west you go, and the closer you get to the coast. The less there is of tree cover to be found.
The unofficial leader of the first group of four, that have been living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale during the winter.
Before coming out west to the coast, for the completion of their training.
Looks back to the east through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece, when Golmard says "Looks like they might of found out which way we've gone".
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name grunts in agreement with the teenage army recruit, then says "Fucken looks like it".
Hamblin tends to agree as he watches the twin masted airship turn in this direction.
The teenager from the farming village of Polsten through the eyepiece, sees the captain of the vessel, pointing in this direction as he shouts out orders.
"Since they're heading more or less directly towards us, I'd say it's time for us to get going" quietly says Hamblin in the common language.
His fellow recruits Golmard and Maselle nod in agreement with the unofficial leader of their group, while the ork general just grunts.
The four of them, including the large ork. Crawl backwards for a bit, before they get up off the ground, under the cover of the tree branches.
"Go and tell the others to get going" quietly says Hamblin to Maselle "Jinsa to lead as scout" continues the dark haired, lean thirteen year old who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
"The three of us will bring up the rear" adds Hamblin indicating himself, Golmard, along with general Dorc.
The teenage Farqian from the farming village of Polsten continues on with "Everyone knows which hill to get to, so it shouldn't be a problem".
Unless the raiders catch us before we get there, Hamblin dryly thinks to himself as Maselle takes off through the trees at a run, to inform the others to get going.
While the two teenagers Hamblin and Golmard, along with the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks walk quickly beneath the trees.
Going west for about a hundred yards, so that they're on that side of the hill, before they turn south, and start making they're way southwards in the direction of the border of the lands Farque.
The homeland of the teenage army recruits, who have been sent north of the border on patrol.
Their last exercise of the training they've endured. First in the forest town of Gildin Dale. Then out on the coast, in the bordertown of Halmard.
As they walk quickly, Hamblin within his mimd, goes quickly over the plans they've devised.
Surprisingly, the bulk of the ideas came from the ork general, Dorc da Orc.
Who once Hamblin told him they might be caught by the raiders on the twin masted airship.
Either here on this side of the border, or just over the border in the nation of Farque.
The big, burly ork devised a number of things they can do. All of them completely hair brained, but all totally feasible.
Even though it means the nine teenage army recruits. Along with the ork general, and the foreign knight. Who are two of the instructors they've had during their training over the winter.
Will have to face off against the twin masted airship and all those onboard.
Which Hamblin figures there's about a hundred and fifty of them.
Along with the other raiders on the ground. Who have been searching for the whereabouts of the Farqian teenagers, as well as the ork warleader and the former paladin.
The unofficial leader of the first group of teenage army groups knows that the major problem they have is when they cross open ground.
Considering that the captain of the raiders airship has a cylindrical eyepiece of his own.
And though it's cruder, and far less capable than the one that Hamblin has in his pack.
It's good enough to see them from ten miles away if he looks directly at them.
The group of Farqian teenagers also have the disadvantage of having both Dorc da Orc and sir Percavellé Lé Dic along with them on patrol, here north of the border, in the unruled lands.
Both of whom are definitely not the shy, retiring types. As they can easily be spotted from a distance.
What with the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic in his full, suit of heavy plate armour he wears. Along with the snowy white cape he wears attached to the shoulder plates.
The former paladin, who has no actual rank or position in the armies of Farque.
Can be spotted from miles away on open ground, due to him being so eye catching, so to speak.
As for the ork general in the armies of Farque. He sticks out even worse than his bitter rival, the former earl of Lé Dic.
Because Dorkindle is so large, and because he's so green. He sticks out pretty much anywhere he goes, especially on open ground.
As they get to the base of the hill, on the south side of the hill.
Young Hamblin says to his fellow recruit and the ork general "We'll have to run for it across any open ground".
The teenage army recruit from the farming village of Polsten, continues with "They're bound to spot us if they're looking our way when we're out on open ground".
As they continue to walk quickly through the trees, Hamblin after a quick glance at Dorc da Orc.
Quietly says in the elven language to his fellow recruit Golmard "Don't know if any of the ideas the general came up with will actually work".
The unofficial leader of the first group of recruits after a monetary pause, continues on in elven with "But i hope they do".
The teenage recruit Golmard nods in agreement as they start jogging southwards.
Following in the wake of the rest of the group of Farqian teenagers, along with the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
As they jog between the trees, they constantly look away to their left, away to the east.
At the airship that's been after them since yesterday afternoon.
The twin masted vessel that was previously a cargo ship looks like it's following the trail they took to the hill they were just up.
And those onboard, as well as those raiders on the ground are yet to actually spot them.
Hamblin looks ahead, in the direction they're going and says in common "We'll have to run for a bit here".
And though he doesn't particularly want to, Dorc da Orc grunts as he breaks out into a run with Hamblin and Golmard. As they head across some open ground. Where there's little in the way of tree cover, if any.
Ahead of them, the rest of the teenage army recruits, along with sir Percavellé Lé Dic have crossed the open ground, and are now making their way into another stretch of woods on the way to the border.
When the three of them get across the open ground, and start jogging between the trees.
The unofficial leader of the first group of recruits looks away to the east to see if the airship has spotted them.
But it looks like the twin masted vessel is still heading to the hilltop they were just up.
They cross open ground two more times, and once they do, Hamblin checks to see if the raiders change course and head this way.
They get lucky as they run to the hill that's right on the border, until they start heading up the hill behind the rest of the group.
Hamblin looks back, when halfway up the hill, which doesn't have much in the way of trees on it.
Maselle the teenage recruit who is looking back, shouts out in elven "They've spotted us!".
The young teenager from the farming village of Polsten who is the unofficial leader of the first group sees that the airship has turned south, turned this way, and is picking up speed.
"Get to the top of the hill!" shouts out Hamblin in elven to the rest of the group.
Then in the common language he says "They've spotted us general, and are heading straight towards us".
In response to Dorc da Orc who is beside him, huffing and puffing as they climb the hill, ask him "What the fuck is it?".
The ork general looks back, and sees the airship coming this way, he grunts then says "Time to fucken fight them cunts" followed by "Time to make a fucken stand".
Both Hamblin and Golmard nod in agreement, even though they're going to be badly outnumbered by the raiders on the airship and on the ground.
But since they're now on the actual border, and once more on their lord's lands. There's nothing else to do but fight if the raiders try to take them on this hill . . . . . .

The General & The Knight 43.

Winter. The Borderlands.

They continue to travel south throughout the rest of the day. Heading in as straight a line to the border as possible.
Though Hamblin the teenage army recruit, and unofficial leader of the first group.
Has them go a little to the west as well. So that he can still see the warcamp in the distance to the north. Which is getting further and further behind them.
It's in the afternoon, when the group of nine young army recruits from across the northwest of the lands Farque.
Along with two of their instructors this winter. The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, general Dorc da Orc. And the foreign knight from the kingdom of Druvic, sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Are going up one of the many rises in this area of the borderlands. Where the recruit Hamblin, along with his fellow recruit Golmard. As well as Dorc da Orc. The three at the rear of the line of march.
Stop and look back to the north. And as the unofficial leader of the first of four groups of teenage army recruits.
Who have lived and trained in the forest town of Gildin Dale throughout most of the winter.
Until coming out to the coast at the end of winter to complete their training.
Takes out the brass, cylindrical eyepiece he has in his pack, and looks through it.
Hamblin who can still make out the warcamp, which must be about twenty or so miles away now.
Spots groups of the raiders who are living in the makeshift village. Making their way south on foot.
More or less following in their path as they head to the border.
The teenager from the farming village of Polsten, which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of the forest town of Gildin Dale, in northwestern Farque.
Figures that they're about halfway to the border now. He'll have to check his maps to see exactly where they are.
The unofficial leader of the first group of teenage recruits, then hears Dorc da Orc grunt, then say "Fucken there".
Hamblin looks to where the large ork is pointing away to the northeast. The teenage army recruit doesn't even have to use the eyepiece to see what the ork warleader has spotted.
It's such a clear and sunny afternoon, on what's been another day that's more spring like, than an end of winter's day that it actually is.
That he can easily see the twin masted airship away to the northeast, flying low to the ground, as it heads back to the west and the warcamp it left yesterday.
"If they spot some of them coming south" quietly says Golmard the teenage recruit, voicing exactly what Hamblin is thinking.
"I know" quietly says Hamblin the teenage recruit, who like Golmard, is speaking in the elven language.
Then switching to the common language, the teen who is from a family of farmers in the village of Polsten, says "Golmard go and tell the others to pick up the pace".
With a nod of his head, the large, fourteen year old Farqian army recruit, turns and runs up the rise, to catch up to the rest of the group.
"General, do you think that lot on the airship will spot their men on the ground following us soon?" asks Hamblin.
"Hmmmmm fucken maybe" says Dorc da Orc who after a pause adds "But they flying low, so they might not fucken see them for sometime".
The large ork knows it's better to see further afield onboard an airship the higher you are.
Flying low, cuts down the angle you can see the ground at. But also at how far you can see in all directions.
The ork weaponsmith nods at the eyepiece that Hamblin is holding and says "If them fucken cuntnose dicks on that ships got one of them" followed by "They gonna fucken spot 'em quickers".
The warleader of the ork race pauses for a moment or two, before he continues on with "Or if they got a fucken magicky cunt with them, then even fucken quickers".
Hamblin faintly grimaces, as he hadn't thought of the prospect of a spellcaster with the raiders onboard the airship.
It's a distinct possibility. And one that will put the group of teenage Farqian army recruits, and their two instructors at a major disadvantage.
As they continue southwards to the border, and the lands Farque.
Looking through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece that was given to him by commander Kolmic, the garrison commander of the bordertown of Halmard.
Hamblin who watches the twin, masted airship for a few moments, asks the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world "General can you tell if they have a spellcaster onboard that airship?".
"Nah, too fucken fars" replies Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name.
"Gots to be fucken close for me to smells a magicky cunt" adds the ork who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
The unofficial leader of the first of four groups of teenage army recruits from across the northwest of the lands Farque who have trained throughout the winter.
Nods his head as he continues to look through the eyepiece at the airship. Looking at those on deck for any sign of one who is a practitioner of magic.
Hamblin like all the recruits, even before they began their training at the start of winter. Was taught how to identify spellcasters.
They're usually unarmed and unarmoured. And though some like wizards are easily identifiable because of the robes of various colours they wear. Others are not to so easy to spot.
Though amongst men like the raiders who are armed and armoured, for the most part, slovenly in appearance, and lax in their discipline.
Someone who is unarmed and unarmoured will stick out quite a bit.
Hamblin can't be sure of seeing anyone who might be a practitioner of magic upon the deck of the twin masted airship. A vessel that is clearly been designed for transporting cargo, and not battle.
Even though the rigging has been changed, and the sail settings completely different to an ordinary cargo airship. To try and get as much speed out of it, now that it only transports people, to be exact raiders.
But what Hamblin does see is an officer, or the captain most likely, using an eyepiece.
It's a cruder instrument than the one the teenage army recruit is looking through at the moment.
He sees that it's longer, but made of iron, obviously heavier. And no doubt with poorer quality glass lenses in it.
Compared to the exquisitely crafted instrument that Hamblin has, that was made by one of the mastercrafters in one of the citadels in the lands Farque.
And though the brass, cylindrical eyepiece Hamblin has isn't magical. It can still see vast distances, and in lowlight conditions as well. It can also see through at night. Though not as clearly as one that is magical.
The crude looking eyepiece he sees the captain of the airship looking through. Maybe inferior to the one he has.
But Hamblin figures it can probably see as far as ten miles away with fairly good clarity. And probably even further on such a clear and sunny afternoon like today.
Though the man looking through the eyepiece on the converted cargo ship, has to contend with the sun in the sky to the west as he looks in that direction.
"Damn" the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits mutters to himself in elven.
The captain of the airship must of spotted some of the raiders on the ground heading south.
Because he's no longer looking through the iron eyepiece, and is now pointing and shouting out orders.
A few moments later and the twin masted airship slightly changes course, and picks up speed.
With a grunt, Dorc da Orc says "They spotted 'em shitfucks on the ground" followed by "That fucken ships is heading to some of 'em".
The teenage army recruit from northwestern Farque nods, and after a few more moments of observing the twin masted airship, he says "Best we get going general".
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts. Then after Hamblin returns the brass, cylindrical eyepiece to his pack.
The two of them get going again, heading up the rise the others have now gone up, and are heading down the otherside.
The group of nine teenage Farqian army recruits, along with the ork general and the nobleborn knight.
Continue southwards, going into woods here and there, the further they go.
They alternate walking and jogging, not even stopping when the sun goes down in the west and nightfalls.
As they walk up the highest hill so far they've come across in the unruled lands north of the border.
Hamblin who has sent Jinsa forward to scout, searching for a possible spot to camp if they decide to stop.
Comes to a stop towards the top of the hill, waving the others forward. Telling Maselle to make sure they don't get too far apart, and to keep within sight of one another now that it's nighttime.
After a grumbling sir Percavellé Lé Dic walks by, loudly muttering about walking damn well everywhere, when he's a knight and should be on horseback.
Hamblin takes out the brass, cylindrical eyepiece once more from his pack.
And when a huffing and puffing Dorc da Orc who is at the rear of the line of march approaches him.
The unofficial leader of the first group asks him stop, as he looks back to the north.
The large ork wipes his brow, glad that it's nighttime, and the temperature has dropped.
And though it's cooler now that the sun has gone down. The ork weaponsmith wishes it was freezing cold. But he knows, unfortunately for him, the night is not going to be like that.
The warleader of the ork race grunts, and looks northwards, as next to him young Hamblin quietly says "They haven't stopped, they're still moving" as he looks through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece.
The teenage recruit from the farming village of Polsten in northwestern Farque, continues with "Though not very fast" he pauses before adding "Infact they're moving really slowly".
"They can't see our fucken trail" says Dorc da Orc, the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, points, then adds "See there, they gots a couple of the cunts on the ground, and they follows 'em".
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world continues with "Bet them fuckheads are trying to follow our trail".
Then after a sideways glance down at the young army recruit, Dorkindle mutters in orkish "You human cunts can't see for shit at nights".
Even with the brass cylindrical eyepiece, which allows him to see at night, though not perfectly or clearly.
Hamblin is just able to see the pair of raiders on the ground, that the twin masted airship is slowly following.
The converted cargo vessel itself is easy enough to see. Infact the teenager from the farming village of Polsten can easily see it without the aid of the eyepiece.
The raiders have got running lights on. A lot of them, along the length of the airship.
Lamps are even up the masts. A dangerous undertaking, for in high winds, or even a gust, they might accidentally set the sails on fire.
"The only advantage they have at the moment is that they know we're going south" quietly says Hamblin as he watches those onboard the airship, which is now about a dozen miles behind them.
Though he doubts it's flying quicker than they're traveling across the ground at the moment.
The teenage army recruit, who knows they don't have the time to hide their tracks.
And that it's near impossible to hide the ork general's tracks. Because of the size of them, and how heavy he is.
Makes up his mind, and makes a decision, Hamblin tells the ork warleader "Once we're down off this hill, we'll turn west". The large ork grunt, then mutters "Not north".
The unofficial leader of the first group of recruits from across the northwest of the nation of Farque.
Who have lived and trained throughout the winter in the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Before they came out to the coast, to complete their training, while based in the bordertown of Halmard.
Whose last major training exercise for the winter, is to go on patrol here in the unruled lands, north of the border.
Then tells the ork weaponsmith "We'll keep moving through the night".
The warleader of the ork race shrugs then says "Fucken fine". As he can go for days without sleep. So traveling throughout the night is no problem for him.
While Hamblin knows he and the rest of the teenage recruits, along with sir Percavellé Lé Dic, are going to be exhausted.
Especially considering how much ground they've already covered today.
Not to mention how many miles they've walked while on patrol here in the unruled lands.
After returning the brass, cylindrical eyepiece to his pack. The teenager from Polsten in northwestern Farque. And the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world continue on their way.
Once they're up and over the hill, and get amongst some trees. Where they find Golmard waiting for them.
Hamblin tells his fellow army recruit to spread the word amongst the others to turn west, once they get to the bottom of the hill.
The group of teenage Farqians, and the ork general, as well as the foreign knight.
Continuing traveling long into the night, only stopping for a short amount of time, sometime around midnight. To rest their legs, and to have something to eat.
The group of teenage army recruits, along with the former paladin are just glad it's fairly dark.
So they can't really see the ork warleader, chuckling away to himself, as he munches away on something.
Which they all figure is whatever is left of the raider that Hamblin and Golmard captured from the makeshift village away to the north.
Who the ork weaponsmith disposed of after they questioned him last night.
They soon get underway again, with Hamblin having them go south for a mile or so, before he has them turn to the west again. Well, to be precise, more southwest than straight west.
They walk through the rest of the night, and as it nears dawn. Hamblin, along with general Dorc, as well as Maselle, scramble up a small hill, on the north side of a small river the group are walking next to.
In the darkness of predawn, they look away to the northeast for any sign of their pursuers.
"There they are" quietly says Hamblin as he looks through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece.
Dorc da Orc who has already spotted the twin masted airship, grunts.
While Maselle the teenage recruit says "Hopefully they've lost our trail". As the twin masted airship is heading dead south.
"They might pick it up in the daylight" says Hamblin, who takes the eyepiece down from his face, and adds "We have to keep on moving" . . . . . .

The General & The Knight 42.

Winter. North Of The Border.

"Nah, the general has somethin' to eats already" says Dorc da Orc in reply to one of the teenage army recruits asking him if he wants something to eat.
The large ork walks away laughing to himself as he pats his rather ample belly.
While his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic sourly smiles. As he sees one of the sacks the ork warleader carries. Which was empty yesterday. Now has something in it.
And though it's early in the morning. Still well before dawn. The former paladin is sure that the sack is stained dark from whatever's inside of it.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic is pretty sure it's stained with blood.
They break camp, and leave the clot of trees they've spent the night in.
They head southeast for a bit, before heading directly south. They want to get back to the border as soon as possible.
Hamblin, the unofficial leader of the group of recruits from northwest Farque. Who have been sent on patrol, north of the border.
Dryly tells Maselle that they don't have to worry about the raiders in the nearby warcamp finding the body of the man, Hamblin and Golmard abducted from there.
As the ork general, Dorc da Orc. Has taken care of that problem.
As they head southwards at a quick walk. As they do, and as the first glimmer of dawn appears on the horizon to the east.
Hamblin briefly stops and takes out the brass, cylindrical eyepiece from his pack.
And looks through it to the west. After he adjusts the rings at the end of it, so he can see in the lowlight conditions of predawn.
The teenager from the farming village of Polsten, which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Watches the warcamp in the distance for a while. And sees that the fire he started early yesterday evening in the makeshift village.
Has burnt away a number of the tents, and one of the buildings near the clearing in the middle of the warcamp.
The thirteen year old who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
Who have lived and trained in the forest town of Gildin Dale for most of the winter.
Before they came out to the coast, and the bordertown of Halmard to finish off their training at the end of winter.
Wonders if the raiders will send out patrols this morning. He would if he's was one of them.
But from what he saw yesterday evening, with how lax they are at guarding their warcamp.
And how discipline is non existent amongst the raiders who hail from right across the unruled lands, and from further afield.
He rather doubts they'll send out patrols. Even if they find one of the senior men who remained behind in camp as the others went off with the airship.
Is now missing, and his tent was the source of the fire that spread through the middle of the makeshift village.
"Useless" Hamblin the teenage recruit murmurs to himself as he watches the warcamp about two miles away to the west.
Then as dawn takes effect, on what feels like it's going to be another mild day for the end of winter, after what was a cold night compared to previous nights here in the unruled lands, about twenty miles inland from the coast.
Hamblin returns the eyepiece to his pack, and catches up to the rest of the group. Who have continued on southwards, barely slowing down for him.
The teenage recruit from a family of farmers in the village of Polsten catches up to the rear of the group when the sun comes up over the horizon to the east.
The unofficial leader of the first of the four groups of teenage army recruits from across northwestern Farque.
Who have lived and trained in the forest town of Gildin Dale for most of the winter. Before coming out to the coast, to complete their training.
Finds himself walking alongside Dorc da Orc. Who is the rearguard, about thirty yards behind the next in the group, the recruit Golmard.
Who looks back, and nods when he sees that Hamblin has caught up to the group.
The thirteen year old, who will definitely join the scouts and rangers division in one of his lord's armies when he completes his training.
Either once winter is over, or after he's completed any specialised training he might be sent off to do.
Wryly smiles as he sees the blood stained sack tied to the ork general's weapon harness.
Within which is definitely the remains of the raider that Hamblin and Golmard abducted last night.
Well, at least what's left of his remains. Considering the large ork has probably eaten a fair bit of him already.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world grunts when next to him, Hamblin the teenage recruit quietly asks him "Think they'll head south across the border into our lord's lands general?".
"Probs" is the reply from Dorc da Orc as he and Hamblin walk at the rear of the group, who are heading south to the border.
The teenage army recruit nods in agreement. And though the man they captured wasn't privy to all the plans of those in command of the raiders are up to.
He was senior enough to know an awful lot of what they're up to here in the unruled lands just to the north of the border of the lands Farque.
Added with the other information they got from him. As well as the maps and missives Hamblin took from the man's tent.
They can work out that in all likelihood, the raiders will come south, and attempt to cross the border.
And attack the villages and towns in northwestern Farque. Well, at least attempt to try and attack those settlements.
The teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
Worked out that there's more of the raiders than in that warcamp.
They're using an actual village further to the northeast from that warcamp.
Where there's a couple hundred more of them living, and raiding from.
Hamblin suspects there's close to six hundred of them in total. Minus the chopped up one, currently stuffed into one of general Dorc's carry sacks.
"They fucken useless cunts" says the ork warleader giving his opinion of the raiders.
"You went into their shitty camp as see how fucked they is" adds the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
Hamblin nods in agreement with the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
"Them fuckcunts gots to work all togethers if they even want a chance of hitting a place in Farque's lands" continues the ork weaponsmith.
"They not co er, um co" says Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name.
"Er co, hmmmmm" says the ork general, who pauses before he adds in a mutter "What's that fucken word?".
There's a brief pause, before the warleader of the ork race continues with "Coordinate you dumbfuck!".
Hamblin looks sideways at the large ork, as that last sentence from him. Came out of him like it was spoken by another person entirely different. A voice, that was definitely higher in pitch.
The teenage Farqian army recruit sees the ork general scowling at the large skull tied to his belt.
Which he's muttering at in the totally incomprehensible language of the ork race.
One of Hamblin's eyebrows shoots up as the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks says to him "Yeah they not know hows to coordinate fucken shit".
The large ork pronounces the word coordinate as co-ordee-mate. But Hamblin gets the gist of it, and understands what the ork warleader is saying.
"I agree general" says the teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
As they along with two of their instructors this winter. Dorc da Orc and sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Head south to the border, as it's another mild morning. Spring like, here in the unruled lands. When it's still actually one of the last days of winter.
The terrain they traverse across this morning. Is pretty mild, just like the weather today.
The ground is fairly flat, except in the distance. Where nearer the border with the lands Farque.
There's rises dotted here and there, as well as actually woods. In what can generously described as hill country.
To the south of that is the nation of Farque. And though Hamblin and the first group's orders were to head back west to the bordertown of Halmard on the coast.
He, along with the rest of the group of teenage recruits. As well as sir Percavellé Lé Dic, thinks it's best they go straight to the border, and into their lord's lands.
Dorkindle doesn't care where they go. He just wants the chance to kill more people.
As the raider he killed last night, after he cut the man to pieces. Was the first person he's killed since before arriving in the lands Farque.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks hadn't killed anyone in months until last night.
Basically a record for him, since he hasn't gone that long without killing anyone since he was a small orkling.
Dorc da Orc who takes great pride in torturing, killing, and eating people. Sometimes even in that order.
Grunts and nods, then says "Yeah cunt, me wills".
In response to Hamblin the teenage recruit saying to him "General if you could keep a look out all around us" followed by "And smell too".
The teenager from northwestern Farque then adds "You never know who could be in the area, and we might not know it".
As they walk southwards behind the rest of the group. Dorkindle with his naturally enhanced eyesight. And his phenomenal sense of smell.
Looks around in all directions every once in awhile. And constantly sniffs, as he tries to locate anyone in the same area of the unruled lands as they are.
After midmorning, and they've covered nearly ten miles. Dorc da Orc looks back and stops as they head up a rise.
The large ork looks back, and Hamblin stops beside him. Taking out the brass, cylindrical eyepiece from his pack, and looking through it.
The unofficial leader of the first group of teenage recruits, who have spent most of the winter in the forest town of Gildin Dale. Before heading out to the coast at the end of winter.
Can still see the raider's warcamp away to the north through the eyepiece.
Both he and general Dorc watch the makeshift village in the distance to the north.
"Looks like they are sending out patrols" quietly says Hamblin, who is surprised that they are, considering how disorganized he saw them last night, and how substandard their discipline was.
"Only on foot though" quietly adds the teenager from the farming village of Polsten as he continues to look through the eyepiece at the warcamp about ten or so miles away.
"Not this fucken way" says Dorkindle who with a clear, unobstructed view away to the north, can easily see the makeshift village just over ten miles away.
The warleader of the ork race grunts, as next to him, young Hamblin says "But they are up that rise to the north of their camp we were yesterday".
The teenage army recruit from the northwest of the lands Farque then murmurs "They might of found our tracks".
Referring to himself and his fellow recruit Golmard. Who entered the makeshift village early yesterday afternoon.
Where they abducted one of the raiders. Who was essentially an officer if they were a military force.
The remains of whom, are in the blood soaked sack tied to the back of general Dorc's weapon harness.
As he watches through the eyepiece, Hamblin sees some of the raiders up on the rise, to the north of the warcamp.
Ponting away to the northeast, in the direction of the clot of trees a further mile away.
Where the group of Farqian teenagers, along with their two instructors, spent the night.
"Damn" mutters the teenager from the farming village of Polsten in northwestern Farque in a worried tone.
Who figures the raiders will eventually find were they camped last night.
Then their tracks that lead south, to the border, and the lands Farque.
Dorkindle, who though he looks more than a little demented. Infact he looks pretty much fucking crazy if you think about it.
And isn't necessarily the smartest or intelligent of individuals. When in actuality, he's a bit of genius when it comes to ork kind.
Though that's not saying much, considering the entire ork race is mentally unstable. And every single one of them is crazy. They can't help it, they're born that way.
Figures out what's got the young teenage army recruit worried.
"Don't fucken worries" says the ork general in the armies of Farque.
Who with a shrug of his massive shoulders, continues with "They might fucken find where we been, and where we fucken goings".
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world as they watch some of the raiders disappear from view, as they go down the otherside of the rise about a mile to the north of the makeshift village.
Says to the Farqian teenager "Let the fucken cuntdicks come this way" followed by "We will fucken kill 'em deads if they do".
The ork who stands seven and a half foot tall, and weighs around seven hundred and fifty pounds, who was named warleader of his race by lord Farque, then says "We'll kills everyone of them shitface cuntheads".
Hamblin takes the eyepiece away from his face, and looks sideways at the ork weaponsmith. Who isn't one to lack confidence in anyway.
The ork who is a general in the armies of Farque, who has his own personal battalion. Made up exclusively of goblins.
Something no one else in their right mind would have. As goblins, who are loyal to a fault. Are extremely accident prone. Who can be a danger to themselves, and anyone around them at the best of times.
In a time of war, they're even worse. It's why they're usually only seen in auxiliary roles in other armies throughout the Southlands. Used for manual labour and the like.
He looks down at the teenage recruit, who maybe about six foot tall, but is absolutely dwarfed by the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Who till this day, is still the largest ork amongst the current members of his tribe, the wolf tribe.
"They gots no fucken chance against us" says Dorkindle, indicating himself really, more than the rest of the group.
Hamblin isn't so sure. At the moment they only number eleven. And that includes the ork general, and the foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
"If you say so general" says the teenager from the farming village of Polsten as he returns the brass, cylindrical eyepiece to his pack.
"Me fucken knows so" says the ork weaponsmith, who has every confidence. In himself at least. At killing any of the raiders they may encounter. No matter how many they may come up against.
Hamblin turns, and nods up the rise the others are making their way up.
Dorc da Orc grunts, and turns. Then he and the young army recruit from the northwest of the lands Farque head up the rise.
Where the recruit Golmard has stopped, so that they can catch up. While the rest of the group, along with sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Are either getting to the crown of the long, rising hill. Or they've already crested it, and are now going down the otherside.
As the first group of teenage army recruits, along with two of their instructors. Who are on patrol here in the unruled lands to the north of the border.
Continue on their way southwards, back to the border and the lands Farque.
Golmard sees the slightly worried look on the face of his fellow recruit Halmard, when he and general Dorc make their way up to where he's waiting for them.
"What is it?" asks Golmard the teenage army recruit.
After a quick glance sideways at Dorc da Orc, Hamblin replies to his fellow recruit in the elven language with "They've found our tracks, and looks like they'll find where we camped last night".
The unofficial leader of the first group of recruits slightly pauses before he continues on in elven with "They'll soon be following us" . . . . . .

The General & The Knight 41.

Winter. Unruled Lands.

"Who's got my boots?" quietly asks Golmard the teenage recruit, who then adds "My feet are freezing".
As Furnid hands Golmard back his boots and socks.
Maselle the teenage recruit quietly asks "You didn't kill him, did you?" followed by "He looks dead".
"He's just knocked out" replies Hamblin the teenage recruit, who along with Golmard has just made it back to the otherside of the rise, after going down to the warcamp about a mile away.
"Golmard just punched him in the jaw" adds the teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
"You could of fooled me" quietly says Maselle, who follows that with "He still looks dead to me".
"He's alive" quietly says Jinsa who is kneeling down next to the man that Golmard carried back from the makeshift village.
"Though his jaw could be broken, so who knows if he can talk" quietly adds Jinsa, who is by far the best archer in the group.
"Oh he will fucken talks alright" says Dorc da Orc who makes his way forward to stand over the unconscious man that Golmard and Hamblin brought back from the warcamp about a mile away to the south of their position.
"Dorc will fucken make him" adds the large ork who draws from his belt, a rather wicked looking curved dagger.
That slightly glints when the blade catches the moonlight from two of the moons that are now up in the night sky.
"Not here" quietly and firmly says Hamblin "We're too close" adds the teenager from the farming village of Polsten, which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Hamblin turns when sir Percavellé Lé Dic after looking at the unconscious man on the ground, looks away to the south and says "I do say, what's happening yonder in that camp of theirs?" followed by a belated "Wot".
"A distraction" is the answer from Hamblin as fire has broken out in the middle of the warcamp.
Which can clearly be seen from a mile away tonight. From their vantage point upon the rise to the north of the makeshift village built by raiders.
"Let's move" adds Hamblin, who though only thirteen, is the unofficial leader of the first of four groups of Farqian army recruits, who have been living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale this winter.
Until coming out to the coast, to finish their training.
The first group who are on patrol, here in the unruled lands to the north of the border of their lord's lands.
Along with two of their instructors this winter. The ork general, Dorc da Orc and the foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic. Move away, heading to the northeast, leaving behind the rise and the warcamp.
Hamblin, who is from a farming family in the village of Polsten.
Has the ork warleader carry the unconscious raider. Carrying the man with ease. With one hand, by the belt around the man's waist.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, carries the raider as if he's a sack.
Dorc da Orc walks near the front with Hamblin, as the group head into the night. That's colder than it has been, especially here north of the border, and about twenty miles from the coast.
The young teenager from the northwest of the lands Farque, who is the unofficial leader of the first group.
Has Jinsa go out infront and scout. Telling her what to look for.
Hamblin earlier in the day, saw what it is. And he hopes to get there fairly quickly. As it's only a little over a mile further to the northeast of the rise they spent most of the day up.
The group of Farqian teenagers, who are army recruits. Along with two of their instructors over the wintertime.
Alternate between jogging and walking quickly. And they're soon amongst a small clot of trees.
The place Hamblin picked for them to take shelter in once he and Golmard captured someone from the raiders warcamp.
"Well spend the night here" quietly says Hamblin once they're amongst the trees.
"A cold camp" adds the teenage army recruit from the farming village of Polsten.
Then as the teenage army recruits of the first group quickly set up their camp for the night.
Hamblin hands the maps and other missives he took from a tent in the warcamp, to Maselle.
Then nods for the ork warleader to follow him and Maselle with the unconscious man.
The large ork does so, and after a moment, sir Percavellé Lé Dic follows them too.
As the rest of the group set up camp for the night amongst the trees.
Stopping near the far side of the clot of trees, Hamblin squats down and quietly says to Maselle who crouches down beside him "Let's see what we've got".
And as the ork general drops the unconscious man on the ground, close by.
Maselle takes out a small lamp, what's referred to as a burglars lamp, from here pack.
She lights it with her flint and striker. And after closing the shutters all around the small lamp.
She slowly opens up one side, allowing a little light to escape from it.
Enough of it to see the maps and missives that Hamblin took from the warcamp.
"Hmmmmm" murmurs sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who continues with "Think it be their plans and suchlike?". As he crouches down beside the two teenage army recruits.
"Could be sir" says Hamblin to the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
While the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Has one eye on what they're doing, and the other on the unconscious raider that Hamblin and Golmard brought back from the makeshift village.
"Here's the other villages and settlements nearby" quietly says Maselle in the elven language, who continues in that language with "I'd say the crossed ones are those that they've already attacked".
She points at the town on the coast that the raiders have already attacked. Which has been crossed off on one of the maps.
Hamblin, the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits nods in agreement.
Then starts reading some of the missives he took from the tent, that he and Golmard took the unconscious man from.
The teenager from the northwestern Farqian village of Polsten. Sees that a lot of them are orders.
Detailing where to send the airship the raiders are using to attack the towns, villages and settlements. Here in the unruled lands to the north of the border.
"They've gone off to attack this village all the way out here" quietly says Hamblin referring to the twin masted airship, as he points at one of the villages. Nearly a hundred miles away to the east, that's yet to be crossed off on one of the maps.
"If they're successful they'll be back late tomorrow i guess" adds the teenager from the farming village of Polsten.
Who then looks at the unconscious man lying nearby, face down on the ground.
Then switching to the common language, Hamblin quietly says "Would be best if we gagged him first" as he gestures at the raider he and Golmard abducted from the warcamp about two miles away.
Dorc da Orc grunts, then says "Good fucken idea" the large ork then adds "Me hates it when they fucken scream and yell, and shit".
Maselle is the one who ends up gagging the unconscious man. Using a spare cloth she has in her pack.
While the ork warleader was going to stuff the corner of one his burlap sacks in the raider's mouth.
And his bitter rival, the former paladin who is a member of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Was going to use the edge of his pack to gag the unconscious man that Golmard knocked out with a punch to the jaw.
"Now, how are we going to wake him up?" asks Maselle as she looks at the raider, who is well and truly out of it. Who doesn't look like he's going to wake up anytime soon.
The teenage girl slaps the unconscious raider across the face a couple of times.
And though Maselle is sure the man's jaw isn't broken, he doesn't wake up from the slaps to his face.
"Fucken leave that to general Dorc" says the ork weaponsmith with a perverse, not to mention, diabolical sounding chuckle as he eyes the unconscious figure lying face down on the ground at his feet.
The two teenagers Hamblin and Maselle quickly get up and back away. Maselle makes sure to grab her burglars lamp as she does so.
Because the ork general drops his pants and stands over the unconscious raider.
"Beast" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic in disgust as the large ork starts urinating over the man who was abducted from the warcamp by Hamblin and Golmard.
Both of the teens grimace and look away as the warleader of the ork race. Being an ork, they tend to spray urine all over the place when they relieve themselves.
The ork weaponsmith's pee is also slightly green in colour too. Which would be something totally wrong in anyone else. But for an ork, that's a healthy shade of urine. And like all ork pee. It absolutely stinks.
Both Hamblin and Maselle cover their noses with a hand as they back further away.
While sir Percavellé Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Slams shut the faceplate of his full helm. And does his best not to gag, as he's downwind from the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Who is busy pissing on the unconscious raider.
The ork, who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
Is chuckling as he urinates, making sure he absolutely drenches the unconscious man.
The raider starts groaning when the the large ork finally stops spraying piss everywhere.
Then he wakes with a start, and as he goes to sit up. He gets a whiff of himself, and promptly spews up.
Vomit comes out around part of the cloth that gags him. And just as much comes shooting out of his nose.
"See" says Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name "Me wakes the cunt up" adds the ork warleader with a chuckle.
As the ork general in the armies of Farque pulls his pants up. Hamblin gingerly steps forward. And looks at the man, who is on his side. Thoroughly soaked in ork piss. And groaning in misery at the situation he finds himself in.
The raider goes to take the gag out of his mouth. But his right arm is grabbed by general Dorc, who growls at him.
Even though it's nighttime. With two of the moons of Volunell already in the night sky.
The raider from the warcamp can see around him fairly clearly. Though his eyes sting from the smell of ork piss that's drenched him through.
The man from the makeshift village about two miles away goes completely still as he sees who. Or that should be, what is holding him by the arm.
He might not of seen an ork before. But he's definitely heard of them. And by all the descriptions he's ever heard of them.
Then who it is that's holding his right arm in a tight grip. Is definitely an ork, and a large one at that.
The raider abducted from the nearby warcamp. Looks around in a panic. And spots the two teenagers from the lands Farque. And the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
Still covering his face as he moves back closer to where general Dorc is squatting next to the raider, who he has a tight hold of.
Hamblin the teenage army recruit quietly says to their captive "You will answer our questions".
The teen from the farming village of Polsten in northwestern Farque continues with "If you don't" followed by "He'll start inflicting a world full of hurt upon you" as he gestures at general Dorc.
The ork warleader who still has his sharp, wicked looking curved dagger in his other hand.
Shows it to the raider from the nearby warcamp. And starts making jabbing motions with it at the raider, as he says "Stabby, stabby".
Which causes the already petrified captive to turn even more paler than he already is.
And for both Hamblin and Maselle to roll their eyes. And for Percy to sourly smile, and say in a tone of voice that matches his smile "How drool beast" followed by a "Wot".
As the large ork continues to make stabbing motions with the wicked looking curved dagger.
All the while chortling as the captive raider tries to plead for help through the vomit and gag in his mouth as he looks at the teenage Farqians. And the former earl of Lé Dic. Which is Percy's family's fief in eastern Druvic.
"So you'll answer our questions?" quietly asks Hamblin as he looks at the raider he and Golmard took from the nearby warcamp. The man vigorously nods his head that he will.
Then he cowers after the large ork lightly cuffs him across the back of the head.
And says to the captured raider "Ya fucken better cunt" followed in an angry hiss with "If not, me will fucken start cutting off pieces of you, and starts eating them in fucken fronts of you".
Though the raider groans in despair, he vigorously nods his head up and down again.
As he definitely doesn't want to be eaten alive infront of his own eyes. By the wild, feral looking large ork. Who has a totally demented look in his eyes as he carefully watches the raider taken from the nearby warcamp.
"If you fucken shouts and screams for help cunt" says the ork weaponsmith "Me will cuts off your hands first" adds the warleader of the ork race.
Dorkindle takes the gag out of the raider's mouth when Hamblin nods for him to do so.
Then the teenage army recruit from the northwest of the lands Farque starts questioning the captured raider.
As Hamblin asks question after question. And the raider answers. Maselle the teenage recruit, general Dorc, and the former earl of Lé Dic.
Closely watch the man who was taken captive by Hamblin and Golmard early in the evening.
"He fucken lying" says the large ork after the raider answers one of Hamblin's questions.
Maselle doesn't know if the man lied there or not, but she nods in agreement with the ork weaponsmith, and says "Yeah he lied".
While a positive sounding grunt comes from behind the faceplate of sir Percavellé Lé Dic's full helm.
The ork general who only said that to see what kind of reaction he would get from the raider.
Chuckles as the man, in his mid twenties, not tall, but slightly stocky, almost muscular. Vehemently denies that he just lied to them.
"The truth now" says Hamblin to the raider, followed by "If not, off goes one of your hands".
The teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits. Doesn't particularly want to torture the raider he and Golmard took captive.
But he can see that general Dorc is basically chomping at the bit to cut the raider to pieces.
And he'll have a hard time trying to stop the large ork from doing so if the raider is found out to be lying.
"Now" says Hamblin who continues with "Are there any plans to go south into the lands that way?".
"I don't know" quickly says the raider who is more than a little panicked as he looks at Dorc da Orc, who still holds home by the right arm. And has his wicked looking curved dagger in his free hand. Which he's itching to use.
"Some of us are all for it, while others are against it" says the raider in a nervous voice, as he sits there covered in his own vomit, stinking of ork piss. Trembling in fright as he's held in the grasp of the warleader of the ork race.
"There's been talk of attacking the towns across that border" says the raider who quickly follows that with "But some have argued we need more men to do so".
"But you have talked about it?" asks Hamblin, the captured raider nods his head yes for an answer.
"They've probably made plans to do so, he just might not know of them" quietly says Maselle in the elven language.
"I agree" says Hamblin in the same language, who follows that with "From what i saw in that camp, they'll have to keep doing these raids as much as possible to keep some semblance of control of them".
The son of farmers from the village of Polsten then adds "Discipline is pretty much non existent amongst them, then need to keep them occupied to keep them from killing one another".
Maselle nods, then Hamblin switches back to the common language, and the thirteen year old who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits, says to the raider "Now, who is command of all you lot?".
Hamblin does most of the questioning, and the others occasionally chip in. And they question the captured raider late into the night.
When they get all the information they need. Or more precisely, as much as the captive knows.
They leave the raider in the hands of Dorc da Orc. While Hamblin, Maselle and Percy head back into the clot of trees to join the others in the camp they've set up.
As for the ork general in the armies of Farque. He chuckles as he gets to do what he wants for once.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world starts by ripping the raider's tongue out. Simply by grabbing it, and yanking it out.
Now that the captive is unable to make much noise. The ork warleader won't be annoyed with unnecessary screaming and yelling. Which always annoys him as he has some fun.
And this night, Dorc da Orc has a lot of fun, as he cuts apart the captive raider. With the expertise of someone who has done this numerous times in the past.
As he keeps the raider alive and more importantly conscious, while slowly, and methodically cutting him to pieces throughout the night . . . . . .

The General & The Knight 40.

Winter. North Of The Border. In The Unruled Lands.

Hamblin the teenage recruit glances to his right, where his fellow recruit Golmard has just muttered in the elven language "This is fucking crazy".
Hamblin, who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits, agrees with Golmard.
It doesn't particularly help that this is Hamblin's idea in the first place. So he can't exactly criticize his own plans as the two of them walk towards the warcamp here in the unruled lands to the north of the border.
They all agreed that they need to find out what the raiders are up to. And more importantly if they've got plans to attack south across the border into the lands Farque.
And the best way to find out, is to get it straight from the horse's mouth so to speak.
Straight from one of the actual raiders in the makeshift village. Which as Hamblin and Golmard get closer. It more and more resembles a warcamp.
The initial idea came from the ork general, Dorc da Orc. Who was all for just straight out attacking the raiders warcamp. And grabbing one of them to see what their plans were.
The ork warleader's bitter rival. The foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic. Who usually disagrees with everything and anything the large ork thinks up.
Totally agreed with the ork general's idea to attack the makeshift village they've observed from a rise about a mile to the north of it for most of the day.
Hamblin, who though only thirteen years old, is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits. All of whom are either thirteen or fourteen years old.
Talked the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. And the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, out of attacking the warcamp.
As there's at least three hundred and fifty or so people in the makeshift village at their best guess.
And the teenage recruits who number just nine at the moment in the group. With Claradene having returned to their lord's lands.
Along with their two instructors, the warleader of the ork race and the former paladin.
Who have come along on patrol with them here, north of the border in the unruled lands.
Wouldn't stand a chance against so many armed and armoured men in the warcamp.
Though from the mutterings of both general Dorc and sir Percavellé. Hamblin is of the opinion that they think they could easily take on a force so much larger than their own, and come out victorious.
The young Farqian army recruit from the farming village of Polsten. Which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Is also of the opinion that both of them are totally crazy if they think they can defeat a force so much larger than their own.
Though as Hamblin walks alongside Golmard towards the makeshift village that's been built here in the unruled lands, by the looks of it, over the wintertime.
What he and his fellow recruit are doing is pretty crazy if truth be told.
The son of farmers from the village of Polsten as he walks towards the warcamp.
Quickly decided that both he and Golmard would go and find out what's happening. By taking one of the raiders, so they can get the information they're after.
The unofficial leader of the first of four groups of teenage recruits, from across northwestern Farque.
Who lived and trained in the forest town of Gildin Dale for most of the winter.
Before making their way out to the coast at the end of winter to complete what's essentially the basic training for the armies of Farque.
Quickly decided that both Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name. And sir Percavellé Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Shouldn't go down into the raiders warcamp. For the simple reason those two will just attack it. As subtlety and discretion aren't exactly things those two are good at. Or even understand from what Hamblin's seen of them this winter.
He also decided that none of the teenage girls in the group would go into the makeshift village.
As by the looks of things, the only women in the warcamp are those who have been captured by the raiders.
Who are being mistreated and abused. If what they've seen from up on the rise to the north of the warcamp is anything to go by.
That just left Markell, Furnid, Lamis, Dammis, Golmard and Hamblin himself to go down into the makeshift village. To take someone so they can find out what the raiders are planning to do.
Hamblin pickled himself, along with Golmard. As out of the six teenage boys in the first group. The two of them are the tallest. And can easily pass as young men.
Especially Golmard, who is the tallest and largest of the teenage recruits in all four groups from across the northwest of the lands Farque. Who have spent most of the winter, living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Infact Golmard is the same height as sir Percavellé Lé Dic, a couple of inches over six foot. And though not as heavy as the former paladin. Golmard is still around two hundred pounds in weight. And he's only fourteen.
While Hamblin, is much leaner. Is still about six foot tall. And can easily pass for someone older.
Especially considering the two of them have smeared dirt across their faces. And they look a little slovenly. As they've seen from observing the warcamp of the raiders. That the men in the makeshift village don't particularly care about their appearances.
Both teenage army recruits have taken off the black tabbards of their uniforms.
And while Golmard is wearing one of sir Percavellé's spare long sleeve tunics over his black leather armoured vest, and shoulder roundrels.
Hamblin is wearing just his leather vest along with his black cloak. Which he's cut short. And torn the bottom of. Making it look like tattered strips.
Both of them are still wearing their leather leggings. And while Hamblin has kept his boots on. Golmard is gone bare footed as they walk towards the makeshift village that the raiders have built out here in the unruled lands.
The teenage army recruit from the farming village of Polsten waited for the opportune time to head into the village.
And they got lucky, when the twin masted airship moored near the middle of the warcamp.
Left, taking more than a hundred and twenty of the raiders with it. Both crew and those going along for whatever they're up to. Raiding most like.
They also got lucky that the airship. Which like they saw a couple of days ago closer to the coast.
Didn't rise up into the air all that high. And nor did it head north from the makeshift village.
Because if it did, they would of been found out if the twin masted vessel went over the rise to the north of the warcamp.
Instead the airship and those onboard headed east, further inland. Probably going towards the other settlements in that direction here in the unruled lands.
Hamblin the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits. Who from the maps he has back in his pack with the others.
Knows that this warcamp is about twenty miles or so inland from the coast.
And even though they've come south since they left the town on the coast that was attacked by the raiders. A town that's forty miles north of the bordertown of Halmard.
The warcamp is still about forty miles north of the border of the lands Farque.
As the border as it goes inland to the east, it heads southwards from the town of Halmard for quite some distance.
Hamblin glances at Golmard again as they near the warcamp the raiders have built over the winter.
And slightly nods, Hamblin the teenage recruit then murmurs in the elven language "We've got this".
The larger, and slightly older teenage boy from northwestern Farque nods in agreement with Hamblin as they approach the makeshift village.
They decided to head to the raiders warcamp late in the afternoon. On what's been another extremely mild day for the end of winter. A day that's more comparable to the middle of spring than it is to the end of winter.
With the sun low in the sky to the west. The two teenage Farqian army recruits approach the makeshift village from the northwest.
They've seen no patrols, either on foot, or on horseback all day.
And those raiders on guard duty they've observed through the day. Spend as much time, if not more. Chatting with others, and looking into the warcamp. Than they do looking out and away from the makeshift village they've built over the winter.
Infact the two teenagers from northwestern Farque aren't even spotted by anyone in the warcamp.
Until they're about twenty yards form it. One of the guards a bit further along to their left finally spots them.
And presumes the two Farqian army recruits are from further to the right around the camp, towards the southwest side.
And all he does is wave to Hamblin and Golmard. Who wave back in return as they walk into the makeshift village, while behind them in the west, the sun starts to drop to the horizon.
The teenage boys from the northwest of the lands Farque share a look as they start heading further into the warcamp.
They casually walk through partly muddy streets. Well, they're more paths than anything else. That go between the tents and the buildings that have been built.
And they see what they observed from up on the rise to the north of the warcamp. That it is indeed entirely makeshift.
With little in the way of planning. As a lot of it is haphazard to say the least.
Hamblin wouldn't be surprised if disease has broken out here in the warcamp with the way things are.
And he's not surprised when he hears a lot of coughing form within the tents and buildings he and Golmard walk by. As dusk soon takes effect in this part of the unruled lands near the coast of the Southlands.
The two teens, who are army recruits from northwestern Farque are heading towards the center of the makeshift village.
As they're more likely to find someone of importance, such as an officer, or similar. Near the middle of the warcamp.
As from their observations up on the rise to the north of the makeshift village.
The middle of the warcamp, near where the cleared area where the twin masted airship was moored.
Seems to be in better order than the rest of the raiders village that looks like it was built throughout the winter.
And though a fair few of the raiders departed with the airship earlier in the afternoon.
Hamblin is glad that the light is fading now that it's dusk. And soon night will fall.
As there's still quite a few of the raiders in camp. Well over a couple of hundred have stayed behind in the makeshift village.
That it seems the raiders are using as their base of operation here in the unruled lands. Where they launch their raids from.
Hamblin who is wondering if or when the self styled raiders will head south across the border into the lands Farque.
Gestures away to his and Golmard's right. To away between a couple of row of tents that are fairly well organised compared to elsewhere in the warcamp.
As a group of raiders. One of whom is carrying an unconscious woman over his right shoulder.
Head towards them along the muddy path the two teenagers from northwestern Farque was just on.
The young Farqian army recruit from the farming village of Polsten. Wants to avoid any of the raiders if they can.
For though his and Golmard's accents won't stick out that much with what he's heard so far as they walk through the makeshift village.
The unofficial leader of the first of four groups of teenage army recruits, from across the northwest of their lord's lands.
Doesn't want to risk the chance of being caught out by any of the raiders.
Especially before he and Golmard get the chance to take one of them for questioning.
The two teenagers, who for most of the winter. Have been living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale. Before coming out to the coast to complete their training.
Quickly duck behind the side of one the buildings that has been built recently.
When a couple of men, pull a struggling woman into one of the nearby tents.
And though both teenage boys would like to do something about that woman's situation.
They know they've got something else to do whilst here in the warcamp. 
And that's to find someone of importance. And to take them for questioning.
"Straight and to the right" quietly says Golmard in the elven language after quickly glancing around the otherside of the building they're up against.
The two of them head that way, as dusk starts turning to early evening. On what's one of the last days of winter.
And though the day definitely felt like that is was the middle of spring. Now with the sun going down in the west, the temperature is going down too.
So it's starting to feel like it's going to be a night, that's more like the very end of winter compared to the day which was spring like.
Hamblin and Golmard as they walk listening to snippets of conversations from the raiders in the tents and buildings they pass.
They realise some of the ramshackle looking buildings are like taverns. And though there's a few cook fires here and there.
Most of the raiders they see as night starts to fall. Are getting something to eat and drink in these buildings.
And drink is what a lot of them are doing. It's barely early evening, and more than a few of the raiders are drunk.
Discipline is pretty nonexistent in the makeshift village amongst the raiders.
Arguments can be heard in all directions. As well as scuffles, especially near or in the buildings that are taverns.
The two teenage army recruits from northwestern Farque pass a fight between a pair of the raiders. Pummeling one another as they trip over tent lines.
While other raiders egg them on, yelling and shouting in encouragement.
The two raiders seem to be fighting over one of the captive women. Who Hamblin spots cowering infront of a nearby tent.
"Right" murmurs the teenager form the farming village of Polsten in the elven language to his fellow recruit Golmard.
The two of them skirt the edge of the clearing in the middle of the warcamp where the airship was moored.
They hear, then see an argument between a couple of the raiders standing outside one of the buildings.
Which is better built and constructed than the others they've seen in the makeshift village.
The argument is abruptly cut off when a man steps out from a nearby tent, larger and better quality than the other tents elsewhere in the warcamp.
And in a tone of authority, not loud at all, says "If you two don't shut it, you'll go on guard duty at the edge of the camp for the rest of the night".
The two raiders arguing fall silent fairly quickly, then after nodding to the man who spoke to them.
They turn and enter the building behind them. Another of the taverns, though the men inside are well behaved, and not raucous compared to some of the other ramshackle looking buildings throughout the makeshift village.
"Him" quietly murmurs Hamblin in the elven language with a nod of his head to the man who spoke, who has just made his way back into his tent.
Golmard nods in agreement, and the two of them make their way towards the tent.
Keeping out of the light from the burning torches in the ground infront of the nearby building that houses a tavern.
Looking quickly around when they reach the front of the larger tent, Hamblin nods to Golmard.
Who in the common language, quietly says "Sir there's a problem".
The two teenage Farqian army recruits share a look as they hear the man inside the tent say "Damn it all, what the hell is it this time?".
Then the front flap of the tent opens, and Golmard throws a punch that connects to the side of the man's jaw.
Dropping him instantly to the tent floor as Golmard, then Hamblin quickly slip into the tent.
The larger of the two teenage recruits grunts as he lifts the unconscious man up, and with the help of Hamblin puts him over his right shoulder.
"Back" murmurs the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits in elven with a nod of his head to the other end of the tent.
Golmard heads that way with the man he knocked out. Hamblin follows, briefly stopping at the camp table where he takes some maps and some missives, and stuffs them down his vest.
He takes a low burning lamp from the camp table, and biffs it into a corner of the tent.
Golmard who has taken his dagger, and cut down the back of the tent. Slips outside through the slit into the night, followed by Hamblin.
"Back to the right" quietly says the teenager from the farming village of Polsten in the elven language.
The two teenage army recruits from the northwest of the lands Farque, head back through the warcamp.
With the unconscious man over the right shoulder of Golmard.
While behind them, getting further away as night has well and truly fallen. The tent they were just in, that they took the man from. Is starting to catch on fire from the lantern that Hamblin tossed onto the tent floor . . . . . .

The General & The Knight 39.

Winter. Borderlands.

They travel till late in the night. Only stopping when they've gone about a ten miles from the coastal town that was attacked.
As they make a quick camp. Dorc da Orc informs them that he will go ahead. As the large ork can go days on end without sleep.
And he'll be easy to track. Since he's an ork. And his trail is pretty easy to find.
Hamblin the teenage recruit agrees to it. And tells the ork warleader to continue onwards to the east and south.
The ork general in the armies of Farque walks away, loudly muttering about not north as the direction he's going.
And though his bitter rival would like to go and keep an eye on the big, burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic needs some sleep, or at least a little bit of rest. After the long day of travel they've had. First up the coast to the town that was attacked. And now inland, to the east and the south.
Which was part of their plans anyway. As that's the way their patrol has been ordered to go.
But now things have got a lot more important. And they're moving at speed now. After what they saw back at that town on the coast.
A town here in the unruled lands. Where most of it was burnt down. And where most of it's inhabitants were killed.
They're up early the next morning. Well before dawn, on what feels like is going to be another extremely mild day. That will be like it's the middle of spring. Even though it's still actually winter. Admittedly the end of winter.
As a yawning sir Percavellé Lé Dic wanders away to take a piss.
The teenage recruit Hamblin, who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits. Who have lived and trained in the forest town of Gildin Dale this winter. Only coming out to the coast at the end of the winter season.
Has taken out the brass, cylindrical eyepiece. And even though it's still basically dark. And with just one of the three moons of Volunell in the predawn sky at the moment.
The teenage army recruit who is from the farming village of Polsten, which is located forty five miles to the southeast of Gildin Dale.
Is looking through the eyepiece, twisting the rings at one end as he does so.
Hamblin nods his head when he gets the eyepiece so it works in lowlight.
He scans the horizon to the east, and to the south. Looking for signs of either general Dorc, or the twin masted airship that attacked the town on the coast.
He can see neither, and after putting away the eyepiece. Hamblin quietly calls for them to get underway again.
Maselle the teenage recruit, who has easily found the tracks of the ork warleader, even though it's still relatively dark.
With a grumbling sir Percavellé Lé Dic in tow, who doesn't particularly care for such early starts. Especially considering this is the third one in a row.
The group of teenage recruits who are from right across northwestern Farque.
Sets off after the ork weaponsmith who is a general in the armies of their lord.
The first group of recruits are nine at the moment. As the tenth member of the first group. Claradene left them when night fell last night.
When they left the coastal town and came inland. While she went back down the coast. Back to the border, and the coastal bordertown of Halmard.
Even though Claradene, the best rider in the group. Has a spare mount with her.
Hamblin doesn't expect her to get back to Halmard until sometime this morning. As she would of had to stop in the middle of the night.
To get some rest. For both herself, and the two horses she took from the town on the coast. A town that was practically burnt down. After it was attacked by raiders on an airship.
The young teenager Hamblin looks away to the east where it's getting lighter in the sky, as the sun starts coming up over the horizon in that direction.
The unofficial leader of the first group who has ordered a jogging pace first thing this morning.
Looks back, and can make out sir Percavellé Lé Dic at the rear of the line of teenagers.
The former paladin, even though he's in such heavy plate armour compared to the teenage army recruits in their light leather armour.
And he's in his mid forties. Thirty years older than all of the recruits in the group.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic is easily keeping pace with the much younger Farqian army recruits.
Hamblin looks ahead, and in the gloom of dawn. Spots Maselle up infront, about sixty yards ahead of where he's at the front of the others.
She's slowed down, and when they get closer. Hamblin can at first hear, then see why the teenage girl scouting infront of the others has slowed down to almost a stop.
It's a stream, flowing more or less north to south.
As he joins Maselle, Hamblin the teenage recruit asks her in the elven language "What is it?".
"I've lost the general's trail" is the reply from Maselle in the same language.
The unofficial leader of the first group of teenage recruits nods his head, then quietly says "He probably jumped over at a narrow point".
Hamblin looks up and down this side of the stream as the sky continues to lighten up to the east as dawn takes effect.
"There" says the teenage army recruit who points away to their left, followed by "He would of jumped over there with ease".
They walk in that direction, and when they get to that narrow point in the stream.
Which the ork general could've easily jumped across. Unlike all of them, as they have to cross there. Wading through the knee high water.
On the otherside, they quickly find the large ork's tracks. And they follow them, heading to the south and east. Going further inland, as well as back in the direction of the border. Between the unruled lands here north of the border. And the lands of Farque to the south of the border.
From the maps he has, Hamblin knows that there's other settlements out here in the unruled lands, further to the east.
He wonders if they've been attacked by the raiders with their airship. He figures that they probably have.
And wonders if the raiders will go south next, across the border into their homeland.
Hamblin, like the rest of the recruits know that their corner of their lord's lands.
Infact right across the north of the nation of Farque. Is sparsely populated. Even more so further east. Into the northern mountains where the Krean Protectorate is located.
And that the sentinels along the northern border, like sir Morcin the avenger. Have to be super vigilante to protect along the border of the lands Farque.
The young teenager from the farming village of Polsten knows that the more information they can gather about these raiders.
The better it will be to deal with them if they attempt to come across the border. And attack the towns and villages in northwestern Farque like Gildin Dale.
The nine recruits of the first group, along with the former earl of Lé Dic, Percavellé.
Slow to a quick walk to conserve energy. Much to the relief of the heavily armoured knight who doesn't actually have any standing whatsoever in the armies of Farque.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, who is a member of the knightly order, the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Makes his way forward to walk beside young Hamblin. Who though has slowed them down from a quick jog. Is still walking quite briskly as the sun continues to rise in the east.
On what looks like, and feels like it's going to be another mild day for the end of winter.
A day that no doubt will feel like it's the middle of spring once the sun is high in the sky.
A sky not too far from the coast. That has very little in the way of clouds in it this morning.
"I say young fellow" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic as they walk across the open countryside. That's dotted here and there with pale, flax like shrubs. And like along the coast, little in the way of trees.
"There's not been any sign of that filthy beast has there?" adds the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in eastern Druvic.
"That smelly creature from the depths of hell" continues the nobleborn knight, who definitely has certain opinions about his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc.
"No sign of him yet sir Percavellé" replies Hamblin, who though only thirteen, is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
Who have been sent out on patrol with two of their instructors, here in the unruled lands, north of the border of their homeland.
The young Farqian army recruit points down at the groups as he adds "Just his trail".
In the early morning light, sir Percavellé Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Grunts as he sees in the early morning light down on the ground. The telltale signs of his bitter rival Dorc da Orc going by in this area.
The large boot prints of the warleader of the ork race, can easily being seen on the ground, that's slightly damp from morning dew.
The heavily armoured knight is silent for some time. A minor miracle in the opinion of Hamblin and the rest of the group of teenage army recruits.
As the former paladin has a tendency to prattle on about anything and everything.
In particular himself, and Dorc da Orc, and the long running rivalry between the two of them.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic breaks the silence with "I say, i think she has spotted something up ahead" followed by a "Wot".
Hamblin looks ahead, and sees that indeed, Maselle who is out scouting infront of the rest of the group.
Has indeed stopped, and dropped to a knee, as she looks away to the southeast. Here in the unruled lands north of the border.
The group as they approach Maselle, duck down and run low. Then drop down to the ground or to a knee when they get to her.
"What is it?" quietly asks Hamblin who takes out the eyepiece from his pack.
"There" is the quiet reply of Maselle as she points to the southeast, followed by "Movement" she then adds "I think it's the general".
Looking through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece. Hamblin looks to the rise in the distance, about five miles away.
And there indeed, he spots Dorc da Orc. The large ork who is crawling along the ground, looking further to the south and east.
Suddenly stops and looks around, back in this direction. And after a moment, Hamblin sees the ork warleader look directly at them and wave.
The teenage recruit from the farming village of Polsten realises the ork weaponsmith caught their scent all the way down there. And that he can clearly see them all with his naturally enhanced eyesight.
Nods, then waves back after the ork general beckons them forward to join him on the rise, and he points away at something to the south of the rise he's up.
"It's the general" says Hamblin as he puts the eyepiece back in his pack.
"On the rise in the distance there" continues the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits who then adds "He's found something".
The nine teenage army recruits from northwestern Farque, and the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic set off towards the rise in the distance.
They go at a jog, and as they do. Hamblin once again is glad of all the training they've undertaken this winter.
He realises why their instructors made them do the various runs on the forest trails around Gildin Dale so many times.
It's built up the recruits fitness so that a run at a constant jog, even after a couple of days of long travel.
Is fairly easy for them, as they cover the five miles to the rise that general Dorc is up in pretty quick time.
It's still relatively early in the morning of the mild end of winter's day, when they reach where the ork warleader is lying on the ground, looking away to the south and east.
Most of the terrain here in this part of the unruled lands is fairly flat. Especially back along the coast, where only the headlands that jut out into the ocean, is the only noticeable rise in height.
While further inland, like where they are at the moment. Long gradual rises like the one they're on now. Can be described as somewhat hill like. As such rises are the nearest thing to hills you can find here in this part of the unruled lands north of the border.
Hamblin who has dropped down to the ground next to Dorc da Orc. Looks to where the large ork, who has just grunted, points.
Just a little over a mile away from the rise they're up, is a village. Where a village shouldn't be, as none are marked in this area on the maps of the unruled lands that Hamblin has with him.
Village is too generous of a word to describe it as. It's more of a camp than anything else, and though there's some ramshackle looking structures that could be called houses, and other types of buildings.
There's more tents than anything else in the way of shelter for those living there.
In an open space near the middle of the camp, is the twin masted airship that they saw a couple of days ago. The same vessel that attacked the town on the coast yesterday.
As Hamblin takes the eyepiece out of his pack to look through it.
Next to him, Dorc da Orc quietly says, well quiet for him at least "That's a fucken warcamp" followed by "If it not, me don't know shit 'bout war".
Further to the right of the large ork, his bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic nods, then quietly says "I'd hate to admit it, wot" followed by "But i do believe the big smelly oaf is correct, wot".
"Base camp?" quietly asks Maselle who is lying to the left of the teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of young army recruits.
"Looks like it" quietly replies Hamblin as he looks through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece.
And he sees that the makeshift village, definitely resembles a warcamp.
As everyone he sees is armed and armoured. And the fact everyone is a man. Though he can't put his finger on it. He doesn't think they're a mercenary band. And they're definitely not soldiers.
"Raiders alright" quietly says the thirteen year old teenage boy who unofficially leads the first of four groups of army recruits. Who spent the majority of the winter living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale. Before heading out to the coast to complete their training.
"Away on the east side of camp" quietly says Golmard who is on the otherside of Maselle.
Hamblin who sees that though some of the raiders are on guard around the camp.
He sees no sign of them having any patrols, on foot or horseback in the surrounding area.
Looks to the side of town that Golmard has mentioned. And slightly grimaces at what he sees.
There's a group of raiders standing around laughing. As another of them drags a young woman by the hair to a tent.
Even from where they are, a mile away on the rise to the north of the warcamp.
They can hear on the wind, the screams of the young woman as she's dragged into one of the tents.
"Well, we know where the young women from that town are" quietly says Maselle, who then sourly adds "And what's happening to them".
Hamblin nods, then after a few moments quietly says "We have to find out if they have any plans to raid across the border into our lord's lands".
"How are we going to do that?" quietly asks Maselle.
It's Dorc da Orc who provides the answer with "Easy" followed by "Go down and get one of 'em cunts, and make the fucker tells us" . . . . . .

The General & The Knight 38.

Winter. The Unruled Lands.

They travel throughout the rest of the day. Occasionally seeing the airship they spotted earlier in the day.
When they stop at dusk for camp. Then nightfalls, they finally lose sight of the vessel.
Even Dorc da Orc is unable to see it. As it has gone and landed somewhere. Quite some distance from where they've stopped for the night on the coast.
They make camp in and around a clump of four trees overlooking a beach on one of the many sandy bays that can be found up and down the coastline.
They make a brief fire to cook their evening meal. And put it out afterwards. As the night is relatively mild. Especially considering it's the end of winter.
Even the constant, but gentle breeze blowing off the ocean. Doesn't do much to drop the nighttime temperature.
They're up early the next morning. Including general Dorc, who woke earlier when the last pair of recruits came on guard.
After packing up camp, the ten teenage recruits of the first group. Along with their two instructors who are on patrol with them. Here in the unruled lands north of the border.
Continue on their way up the coast as the first light of the day touches the horizon away to the east.
As usual as they walk, Dorc da Orc either glares at the ocean to their left. Or scowls at his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Doesn't matter if the nobleborn knight is at the front of the line of march, or if he's at the rear. The large ork will scowl at him. Usually thinking of ways he can kill the former paladin by, and get away with it.
The only time he isn't doing that. Is when the ork warleader is at the front. Walking with Hamblin the teenage recruit. Who asks him if he can see that airship this morning.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world scans the skies. And is unable to see the twin masted ship this morning.
Hamblin who is the unofficial leader of the first group. Who are out here on patrol in the unruled lands.
Wonders if that airship headed further inland during the night, or earlier this morning.
Or if it's continued northwards. But is flying more normally, compared to how slowly it was flying yesterday when they were watching it.
Nevertheless, the young teenage army recruit from the farming village of Polsten. Which is located forty five miles to the southeast of the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Has Dorc da Orc regularly check the skies all around them as they continue on their way northwards along the coast.
The rest of the morning is pretty uneventful. Apart from when they have to go inland nearly a mile. As a bay, the largest one so far. Forces them inland.
The massive bay, which looks to have fairly deep waters. Would be an ideal spot for a city and a harbour. That's if people actually lived here.
They follow the inside of the bay, where they spot a few wrecked small fishing boats.
Which no doubt are from the town they're heading to. Which over the years have been caught out by the tides in the bay.
The ten teenage army recruits from throughout the northwest of the lands Farque.
Along with the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. And the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
Briefly stop just north of the wide bay around midday. To have something to eat and drink.
Once again the ork warleader is unable to see any sign of the airship they saw yesterday.
Nor does the recruit Hamblin when he takes out the brass, cylindrical eyepiece he has in his pack.
And he too scans the skies, especially to the east, and to the north. For the airship they watched yesterday flying slowly to the north, further inland from where they're on the coast.
The patrol from the Farqian border town of Halmard continue on their way.
Continuing north along the coast. As they head to a coastal town here in the unruled lands. That they're to observe without any of the inhabitants knowing that they're about.
It's later in the afternoon, when they start noticing signs of civilization. As they see just in from the coast. What looks like to be pastures for grazing animals. That have gone fallow over the winter.
It's when they spot a well a hundred yards or so inlaid from where they're walking near the shoreline.
That Dorc da Orc, who is walking with Hamblin the teenage recruit says "Smoke" the large ork continues with "Me smell fucken smoke".
Hamblin shares a look with his fellow recruit Maselle. And in the elven language tells her to run ahead to join Lamis who is out scouting infront at the moment. To see if they can spot anything.
As Maselle runs ahead, and the rest of the group continue on their way, Hamblin the teenage recruit asks the ork warleader "How far away do you think that smoke is general?".
With a shrug of his massive shoulders, the ork weaponsmith replies with "Few miles me guess".
Hamblin nods his head when he hears that. For if his maps are accurate. And they have been so far. Then the town they're heading to, is only a few miles away.
A little later, towards the end of the afternoon. They spot Maselle running back down a rise in the coast. One of the many headlands that jut out into the ocean.
The teenage recruit stops about halfway to them. And waves them on, and gives them the signal to hurry.
The teenage recruits, along with the ork general and the foreign knight who are bitter rivals, jog forward.
Hurrying up the rise that Maselle and Lamis are up, looking down the otherside.
Once at the top of the rise, they all duck down as Maselle and Lamis are doing.
And while Dorc da Orc grunts, and a kneeling sir Percavellé Lé Dic murmurs "Hmmmmm".
It's Golmard who voices what all the recruits are thinking "Well, i guess we know where that airship got to".
As just to the north of them, along a massive stretch of the coastline that has a beach which must be at least two and half to three miles long. As it curves away to the northwest into the ocean.
There lies a town, towards this end of the long beach. A few hundred yards from the headlands the teenage recruits and their two instructors are up.
A lot of the town is a smoking ruin. With the smoke blowing away inland and to the north by the inshore winds.
The town which they were to observe, while going unnoticed by it's inhabitants.
Has obviously been attacked sometime earlier today. By the looks of it, in the morning sometime.
"I do say, i believe that ship and those fellows on it must be raiders, wot" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic as he breaks the silence as they continue to look down at the town on the long beach below them.
Hamblin nods his head in agreement with the heavily armoured knight.
The unofficial leader of the first group of recruits is looking through the eyepiece.
Scanning the skies in all directions. And seeing no sign of that airship anywhere. He goes back to looking at the town below.
"Doesn't look to be many survivors" quietly says Hamblin as he sees bodies scattered throughout the burnt out remains of the town.
"If any" adds the teenage army recruit from the farming village of Polsten.
Glancing sideways at the ork warleader beside him, Hamblin asks him "Anyone alive down there general?".
"Fuck all" says Dorc da Orc, who continues on with "And they is dying".
The unofficial leader of the first group of recruits looks at the large ork, then at the nobleborn knight away to their left.
And though those are the adults with them. Young Hamblin who at just thirteen, isn't sure if he should trust them with making any decisions on how they should proceed.
"What should we do?" quietly asks Maselle in the elven language, who then has a pointed look at the ork general and the foreign knight.
"Go down and see how things fare?" adds Maselle, who follows that with "Might be some survivors who can tell us what happened".
She then says "If it was that airship, which it probably was, it might head down to our lord's lands" followed by "We'll have to warn the garrison at Halmard if they do".
Hamblin nods, then looks at the rest of the recruits in the group who have been listening to Maselle.
The thirteen year old farm boy, who before the winter began. Never thought at the very end of winter, and at the end of their training. He would be put in a situation like this.
The unofficial leader of the first of the four groups who have lived and trained in the forest town of Gildin Dale for most of the winter. Before coming out to the coast.
Looks at the two instructors again, then after a few moments of silence as he thinks about things, Hamblin says in the common language "Well go down there and see how things are" followed by "And see what we can find out".
Dorc da Orc grunts to that, while sir Percavellé Lé Dic says "Here, here lad" the former paladin then adds "Very good decision there young Hamblin" followed by "Wot".
They find a trail that goes down the side of the headlands to the beach, and as the sun starts to head down in the sky to west, over The Great Western Ocean.
The teenage Farqian army recruits and two of their instructors this winter, enter the coastal town. Which is the closest settlement to the northern border of the lands Farque. About forty or so miles north of the border town of Halmard.
As they enter the burnt out ruins of the town, and Hamblin tells the others to spread out, and search for survivors.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic says "Beast don't profane the dead by eating them". He knows the large ork too well. And has seen the ork warleader drooling already before they've even come across the first dead body.
With a guilty look at the recruits who are closest, the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, says in a tone of disdain "Whatev's cunt" followed by "Dorc not do something fucken shitty like that".
Which earns a sour looking smile directed at him by the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Hamblin, who like all the recruits. Not just those in the first group. But all four of the groups who were living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale, before coming out to the coast at the end of winter.
Knows about the ork general's rather unsavoury habits. Such as eating the corpses of the dead, among other things.
Has the ork warleader stay by his side as they enter the village. As does the former paladin sir Percavellé, who wants to keep an eye on the large ork.
While the rest of the group of recruits spread out to find anyone who might of survived the attack upon the coastal town.
Hamblin looks away to the left, back towards the beach. Where near some of the fishing boats that have been hauled up the sand. Lie a number of dead bodies.
And with the ork general and the foreign knight walking right behind him.
He walks around a house that's half burnt to the ground, and is still smoldering.
Out infront of it, he finds Jinsa kneeling down near two bodies, a woman and young girl. Both dead, both killed by arrows.
"Shot from above" says Jinsa as she gets up and points at the two bodies lying face down on the ground.
"See the angle of the arrows in their backs, and that one down in the right shoulder of the little girl" adds Jinsa who is the best archer in the group.
"I'd say they were definitely shot from that airship" continues the teenage girl, whose father is a master archer in their lord's armies.
Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name, grunts in agreement with Jinsa.
Then points across to the front of another house, where the body of a man lies.
"See his fucken brains splattered all over the place" says the warleader of the ork race, who continues on with "Some cunt drops somethin' on him from above".
Dorkindle looks around, then points and says "There, that fucken rock". As there's a blood splattered rock that's bounced about twenty feet away from the dead man.
Hamblin nods, and realises that their suspicions about the airship attacking the beachside town is true.
The unofficial leader of the group of teenage recruits says "Keep looking for survivors".
He looks at the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world and asks him "Can you smell any of the townsfolk still alive general?".
The large ork grunts, then points away to their right along a street that leads away from the beach, and says "Fucken thataway".
They head that way, the teenager from the farming village of Polsten in northwest Farque. The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. And the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
"Poor horsey" murmurs the ork warleader as they walk by a dead horse.
Hamblin looks away to their right, and sees that Claradene has gathered the reins of two other horses who are aimlessly roaming around.
They continue on between the houses and buildings in the town. And as dusk takes hold. They come across Furnid walking through the burnt out shell of a house.
Who calls out to them with "Maselle and Marshay have found someone still alive back here".
They follow the young recruit through the burnt out house. And around what seems to be a chandlers. Which though burnt, is still somewhat intact.
Around infront of it they find the two teenage girls Maselle and Marshay with a townsman.
He's on the ground, with a badly broken right leg. And a pair of arrows through his back.
As Marshay gives the man some water from her canteen.
Maselle says in elven "Taking that top arrow will be alright, but that lower one is through his lungs, and will probably kill him if we take it out".
Hamblin nods, then says in the same language "Has he said anything?".
"A little" replies Maselle, who continues on with "That ship attacked them alright".
Hamblin glances at the ork general and the foreign knight. Both of whom he knows have a healing potion on them.
The teenager who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits makes a decision quickly.
And doesn't ask either of them for one of their healing potions. Then he kneels down, and in the common language asks the townsman "What did they do?" followed by "And where did they go?".
They listen, as the man, in his twenties, a fisherman. Who though in pain, and slightly delirious.
Tells them about how the airship of raiders attacked the town early in the morning.
Taking what they wanted in the way of food, goods, valuables, and the young women of the town.
Before setting much of the town on fire after they killed or tried to kill everyone else.
"And which way did they go?" asks Hamblin the teenage recruit.
The wounded townsman groans in pain, and after a moments silence answers with "Southeast" followed by "To the southeast".
Hamblin nods, and gets up then looks at his fellow recruits Maselle, Marshay and Furnid, and says to them in the elven language "That's the way we're going anyway".
The three of them nod, then Hamblin says "Marshay go and get Claradene, we'll have her ride back to Halmard and inform the garrison of what's happened here".
Claradene is the best rider in the group of teenage recruits. And with the pair of horses she's rounded up. Will get back to the border a hell of a lot quicker than it's taken them to walk up here.
"We'll continue on as planned" adds Hamblin who continues on with "No doubt we'll come across these raiders".
Then as Marshay hurries away to find Claradene, Hamblin switches to the common language and says to the ork weaponsmith and the nobleborn knight "We'll continue as we planned for the patrol" followed by "Inland to the southeast".
"Very well" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic, while Dorc da Orc just grunts.
"Furnid go and gather the rest of the group, see if they can find anything we can use" says Hamblin who briefly thinks about something, then adds "We're leaving, we'll travel into the night for awhile".
Furnid moves off, and in the dying light of the day, Hamblin looks down at the seriously wounded townsman after he shares a look with Maselle.
The teenage recruit from the farming village of Polsten says to the local "Close your eyes, and try to rest".
Hamblin then looks to his left, and quietly says "General" and nods down at the townsman.
Immediately understanding what the young teenage recruit wants him to do. The large ork grunts and nods yes.
Hamblin gestures for sir Percavellé Lé Dic and Maselle to follow him.
As they walk away, behind them the ork general takes an axe from his weapon harness.
The townsman doesn't even see the swing of the axe that takes off his head. All he hears is what sounds like "Get some" from a deep, growling voice, before his life comes to an end . . . . . .