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" . . . . . .
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