To War 10.

Summer. Melaurn.

Baron Wilmot looks out at the border between his home province of Corlinda and it's eastern neighbour, the province of Karricaw.
The baron, the chief protagonist, or antagonist depending on your point of view. In the conflict between the neighbouring provinces.
Looks at the enemy forces just over the border in Karricaw.
They've been building up over there for the last couple of months.
Likewise, here on the Corlinda side of the border.
And though there's been some skirmishes up and down the border, which is barely fifty miles in total between Corlinda and Karricaw.
No out and out hostilities have broken out between the two provinces so far this summer.
Though that looks like it could change any day now.
The baron who is standing on the roof of a house here in a village, only a quarter of a mile from the border.
Turns and looks at one of his vassals, sir Crissen, who quietly says to him "Hopefully we get word back today".
Baron Wilmot nods, for they've yet to hear anything back from his son Krissner, and sir Jinpel.
Who were part of the delegation from here in Corlinda. Who went north into the lands Farque.
In the latest round of negotiations, to try and secure the services of one of the armies of the mysterious land that lies to the north of the kingdom of Melaurn.
"Meanwhile we've got that bunch of animal fuckers over there, trying to see what they can get away with" says lord Milson, one of the baron's strongest allies here in Corlinda.
Milson, the lord of Mottman Deep, a rather disheveled looking man, wearing ill fitting armour.
Who has a large battleaxe strapped to his back, then says "Now there's word of an army of foreign mercenaries they've hired who are coming up through Selvah Na".
The baron of Pirtgott, frowns when he hears that. Wilmot a lean, bald headed man in his early forties. Who wears thick leather armour, with plate shoulder armour.
Doesn't like that the enemy has hired another army of foreign mercenaries. Who could very well tip the balance of the impending war. If his son Krissner, and sir Jinpel don't return with that army from the lands Farque.
There's silence upon the rooftop as they look at the enemy forces just across the border.
Then baron Wilmot breaks the silence as he says "Come on, let's get down off here" followed by "It's getting damn hot up here".
The baron of Pirtgott turns and makes his way to the ladder up against the back of the house.
The vassal knight sir Crissen, and lord Milson share a glance, after one last look in the direction of the enemy forces just across the border in Karricaw.
Then the two noblemen turn and follow the baron down off the rooftop.
On what's a clear, and sunny summer day here in the border region between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw, in southern Melaurn.
The conflict between the two provinces has been building up over the last few years.
All over the border between Corlinda to the west, and Karricaw to the east.
Over the last six months, since the winter really. Things have intensified over the border issue.
Where both sides what to change the border. Effectively pushing it out from their own side.
Which of course, means they will encroach into the neighbouring province.
And the nobility on either side of the border. Want their own province to increase in size.
None of them want to see their home province get smaller, as the proposed border change will definitely see that, depending on what side of the border you come from.
And the dispute over the border isn't all that large of an area.
Infact, most of the near fifty mile, basically north, south border between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw isn't in dispute.
It's only about a three mile long section of the border that's actually in dispute.
Where the province of Corlinda, wants to see the border in the area moved less than a mile to the east.
So it takes in all of the river that flows through the disputed lands.
While the province of Karricaw wants to see the border pushed out westwards, not even half a mile.
Which unfortunately, would put this small border region village over on the Karricaw side of the border.
Baron Wilmot is dead set against that. As this village, and the disputed region of the border. Is in his lands, or his vassals lands, here in the province of Corlinda.
Inside the house, the baron of Pirtgott, looks out one of the front windows in the house.
Out to the east, across the border at the enemy army. Who have set themselves up over the border, over the last couple of months.
Making it clearly obvious, that war is on the horizon. And could commence any day now.
There's an army of Corlinda, based here in the village. To match the one just over across the border in the province of Karricaw.
So far the armies have stayed put. Though they've steadily increased in size, especially over the last couple of weeks.
A sign that war is inevitable. As they can't continue to keep sitting here and do nothing.
As both armies are going through supplies like crazy. And it's costing both provinces a lot to do nothing, more than it is to actually fight.
A servant brings over a pewter mug of summer ale, that the baron of Pirtgott, to his delight, finds cold.
He turns, and nods his head when he spots the wizard Smesall, one of the few spellcasters on either side of the conflict.
Who baron Wilmot is glad the wizard is from here in Corlinda. And not over the border in Karricaw.
The wizard, an older man in his late fifties, who wears faded orange robes, joins the leader of the Corlinda forces at the window.
As does lord Milson, while sir Crissen stands back from them. As he isn't entirely comfortable around the wizard. Who has one eye that looks off to one side.
After taking a drink of the ale in the mug, baron Wilmot asks the practitioner of magic "Think they'll attack today wizard?".
"Not today baron" says Smesall the wizard as he answers the question that the baron of Pirtgott has asked him every day over the last couple of weeks.
"They'll be waiting for that mercenary army I've heard rumours about, coming up from Selvah Na" adds the spellcaster, who like the baron, is bald.
Though baron Wilmot is bald because he shaves his head. Unlike the wizard, who is naturally bald.
"No rumours, it's true wizard" quietly says the baron of Pirtgott, whose lands are about thirty miles further west here in Corlinda.
The village here on the border, is in the lands of sir Holjma, another of his vassals. Who is out amongst the army at the moment.
As he's the deputy of sir Jinpel. One of the commanders of the province's army.
Who is away with baron Wilmot's son, Krissner. Hopefully securing the services of an army from the lands Farque.
That's promised to be ten thousand strong by the envoy they've been dealing with over the last couple of months.
Baron Wilmot who knows the enemy over in Karricaw, have also been trying to hire an army from the lands Farque this summer.
Infact the envoy who took the delegation north with him. Freely admitted this to the baron of Pirtgott.
Making it obvious he was playing the two provinces off against one another.
To see which one is willing to pay the most for the army from the mysterious nation that lies to the north of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Baron Wilmot, who hopes the latest offer the delegation is willing to pay, is enough to buy the services of a mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Nods his head after taking another sip of the cold summer ale, when the wizard quietly says "If that's so, then i expect them to attack whenever that army of mercenaries come across the border from Selvah Na and join them".
The spellcaster, who is from the lands where lord Milson castle is located, then asks the nobleman who leads the province of Corlinda "Any idea how many of these mercenaries they've hired?".
"At least a few thousand" replies baron Wilmot, who continues on with "We'll have to get confirmation of their true numbers though".
"Even so, with that many, they'll attack us" says the wizard Smesall, who follows that with "They'll outnumber us, and no doubt these foreigners will be urging to fight".
"And no doubt Gormica, will send them across first" sourly says lord Milson, referring to lord Gormica of the Salmah Forest. The leader of those in the province of Karricaw. And baron Wilmot's arch enemy.
"Probably" quietly says the baron of Pirtgott, who then bitterly adds "The bastard".
Smesall the wizard refrains from grimacing. Not, lord Milson, who does grimace when he hears that from his friend and ally, baron Wilmot.
Who despises the lord of Salmah Forest with a vengeance. As the two of them have been rivals since childhood.
And who now in their forties, they're the most bitter of enemies.
Which isn't all that uncommon amongst the nobility in any kingdom anywhere.
It's just that not common when it's brothers, such as is it with baron Wilmot of Pirtgott and lord Gormica of Salmah Forest. Not just any brothers though. But actually twin brothers.
Wilmot of Pirtgott, which has been his family's lands for at least four centuries.
Has never forgiven his twin brother Gormica of Salmah Forest. Taking up residence in Karricaw, when he married nearly twenty years ago.
As the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda here in southern Melaurn. Have always been the two most fractious of provinces in the entire kingdom.
Where rivalries, both petty and serious. Are abundant between the nobility on either side of the border between the two provinces.
And while most land disputes in the kingdom are amongst neighbouring nobles within the same province.
Not so here in southern Melaurn, where it's the province of Corlinda against the province of Karricaw.
"If they attack, we'll be ready for them, even with these foreign mercenaries they've got coming up from Selvah Na" says lord Milson.
The disheveled looking nobleman from Mottman Deep is the most forthright of the baron's allies.
Who has often urged the baron of Pirtgott to attack across the border.
Infact he's been telling baron Wilmot that every so often over the last couple of years, more so since the winter.
The lord of Mottman Deep served with the twin brothers Wilmot and Gormica when they were squires.
Ever since they were young, Milson got along with Wilmot more than Gormica.
And when Gormica moved to Karricaw and became lord of Salmah Forest when he married.
Lord Milson came to dislike the twin brother who left Corlinda to live in the neighbouring province that's always been their rivals.
Baron Wilmot wryly smiles as he looks sideways at his friend Milson, who is ever confident. Even if they'll be outnumbered by at least a few thousand when these foreign mercenaries traveling up through Selvah Na, arrive just across the border in Karricaw.
To say the lord of Mottman Deep is a little enthusiastic would be an understatement in the extreme.
He's been itching for war against their neighbouring province to the east for years.
But baron Wilmot knows they can't be too hasty in an attack across the border.
As his twin brother Gormica, is a bit of a genius when it comes to military matters.
Who over the years he's been living in Karricaw, nearly twenty of them. He's made alliances with those nobles in that province who don't get along with one another.
But more importantly, he's built up the military strength throughout the province of Karricaw.
Probably more so that what the baron of Pirtgott has been able to do over the same amount of time here in Corlinda.
Baron Wilmot knows that he faces a larger force over the border, even without the foreign mercenary army that's coming up through the province of Selvah Na.
It's why he's so desperate to hear word of how the negotiations went between the delegation from his province, with the lands of Farque, that lies to the north of the kingdom of Melaurn.
The baron is just about to mention that they need word back from his son Krissner and sir Jinpel.
When an officer hurries inside, and quickly says "Baron that envoy has returned" followed by "That elf".
"Where is he?" demands the baron of Pirtgott.
"Just outside my lord baron" replies the young officer.
"Bring him in" says baron Wilmot after he shares a look with lord Milson, sir Crissen and the wizard Smesall.
A few moments later, and the envoy from the lands Farque enters, and after the baron orders the servants outside.
The chief antagonist in the conflict between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw, here in southern Melaurn greets the elf in the white hooded cloak.
Then he asks the envoy from the lands Farque "So how did the negotiations go?". Hoping for the best, but dreading the worst.
"You were successful" says Helbe the elven thief.
There's relief on the faces of the three noblemen and the spellcaster, who have been waiting to hear that for the last couple of weeks.
"An army of around ten thousand will be serving alongside your forces" adds the elven magic user who is the envoy for the armies of Farque.
With a smile of triumph upon his face, as baron Wilmot knows that this has given the province of Corlinda the advantage over their enemies across in Karricaw.
He asks the envoy representing the lands of Farque "When can we expect your army here on the border?".
With a faint smile upon his lips, Helbe the elven thief, much to the shock of baron Wilmot and the others, says to them "We're not actually coming here to the border, we're going somewhere else" . . . . . .

To War 9.

Summer. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

In the kingdom of Melaurn. The southern provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw are side by side.
With Corlinda lying to the west. And Karricaw to the east.
Because of the size and shape of the two provinces. Their shared border isn't particularly long.
Less than fifty miles from north to south. In a nation where it's almost eight hundred miles from north to south.
The two provinces that are in conflict with one another, have the southern most province in Melaurn, the province of Selvah Na to the south of both of them.
Where the city of Ramaee is located. Which is the southern most port in the kingdom.
Which in the wintertime it's iced over, as far away to the south of it is the southern polar region of the world.
But now at this time of the year, in the summer, the port city of Ramaee in Selvah Na is busy.
Where an airship from the capital city of Calinar has just landed in the city airdocks. Not far from the harbour and the ports.
Infact you can see the seaside docks from the airdocks, which is only a quarter of the mile from the water.
"Looks like they're here" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, next to him, Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit nods in agreement as they look at the port from the deck of the airship that's just put in at the Ramaee airdocks.
At the port is a large fleet of foreign vessels from further north in the Southlands.
"They've unloaded too" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, who points then adds "They're just unloading the last of their gear and equipment".
The spy Tanith nods his hooded head in agreement as they stand upon the bow deck of the trading vessel from out of Calinar, that's flown them to the south coast and the city of Ramaee.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Looks through the city, the largest city in southern Melaurn. Searching for something.
The elf who is originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland.
Who is now an officer in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque. Looks at a road that leads north from the city.
He nods his hooded head in that direction, and says to the halfling beside him "They're on the march".
The hobbit, who is not all that he appears to be. Looks to starboard, away to the north. And sees what the elven spy has spotted.
Jarjin Littlefoot who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, nods his head then quietly says "That's them alright".
As north of the city, is an army of foreign mercenaries on the march northwards through the province of Selvah Na.
No doubt heading to the border it shares with both the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw, it's neighbours to the north.
"Wonder if the local lords here in Selvah Na are bothered that there's an army of mercenary companies going through their lands?" muses Dalin as he and the hobbit beside him converse in the elven language.
"Rather doubt it" says the hobbit, who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Jarjin Littlefoot.
Just the latest body he's inhabited since he died about fifteen years ago, in a winter war here in the kingdom of Melaurn, up in the province of Sorros.
"Probably paid them off" dryly adds the halfling who is a former air sailor from the Sultanate of Dreese, which lies on the far east coast of the continent, about twelve thousand miles away from the Southlands.
The spy Tanith nods in agreement with the hobbit who is a member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Dalin then turns, and looks at the other passengers who are disembarking from the small, single masted trading vessel that's just arrived here in Ramaee from the capital Calinar.
Every single passenger, are all spies and others in the armies of Farque. Who have been based in the city of Calinar.
Who have come here to Ramaee, now that one of their armies has been hired by the province of Corlinda in the impending war against the province of Karricaw.
The elven spy slightly nods when one of his fellow spies gives a few discreet hand signals to him as she makes her way off the small airship out of Calinar.
"We should get going" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman nods to that. And the two of them head below deck to collect their packs and equipment.
Not long after, and the elven spy and the former air sailor are making their way through the city of Ramaee.
Unobtrusively followed by a small number of assassins in the armies of Farque, who were also onboard the trading vessel that brought them from the capital city Calinar.
It doesn't take the two of them long to find what they're looking for.
They buy a horse and a pony from a olster, as well as saddles and saddlebags.
Not long after that, they've joined a merchants caravan leaving the city that's heading north.
Business and trade out of Ramaee is busy. As many merchants are taking all sorts of goods north to the neighbouring provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
As the old saying goes, war is good for business. And business from here in the province of Selvah Na. And the other provinces that border Corlinda and Karricaw. Business is extremely good this summer.
The merchant's caravan they've joined is one of a number of them heading north in the wake of the army of foreign mercenaries heading north from Ramaee.
Some are on the smaller and less traveled side roads that head north.
But the merchant's caravan that Dalinvardèl Tanith and Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson have joined.
Is on the main road north out of Ramaee, that goes up through the province of Selvah Na.
As the caravan owner is hoping to do business with the army made up of various mercenary companies from further up north along the coast of the Southlands.
Before the foreign mercenary army gets to the war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
Both the spy Tanith and councilor Littlefoot, hope the merchant is successful in doing business.
As they, like the other spies in the armies of Farque, who are also following the foreign mercenary army.
Want to find out as much information as possible from the various mercenary companies that make up the army that's heading north through the province of Selvah Na to the conflict between the bordering provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
The local merchant who was quite pleased to take their coin so they could travel with his wagons.
Waves the elf and hobbit forward, to ride alongside the wagon he's riding on.
"Think you'll get to do business with them?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot, as it's no secret what the local merchants are up to.
Trying to sell their goods and wares to the foreign mercenary companies heading north through Selvah Na.
"Hopefully" says Bedric, a man in his thirties, from Ramaee. Who has six wagons full of goods in this caravan.
Along with his drivers, he has hired guards with him. Including two he just hired before leaving Ramaee.
Who happen to be assassins from the lands Farque, who are actually guarding Jarjin Littlefoot. And aren't all that particularly worried about guarding the merchant's wagons.
"If not, or i don't sell everything, I'll take it into either Karricaw or Corlinda" adds the local merchant, who is a rather stocky looking man, who has been trading goods since his early teenage years.
"One province or the other better for selling goods?" asks the hobbit who is a former air sailor.
"They're about the same" replies Bedric with a shrug of his shoulders, as his caravan goes along a fairly straight section of road, in the middle of some farmland.
Up ahead, they can see the foreign mercenary army just a mile or so away.
"No preference what's so ever" says the merchant in reply to the halfling from the far east coast of the continent, asking him "Got a preference of which province to sell to?".
"They're as bad, or as good as each other really" says the caravan owner, who let the elf and halfling ride along with him and his wagons.
For the simple reason he saw the weapons the spy Tanith has on him. Though those weapons are the only ones Dalin actually wants to be seen. He has far more hidden about him.
Next to the elf originally from the principality of Alínlae, the hobbit from the otherside of the continent, asks the local merchant "Any preference to who actually wins the war?".
The caravan owner shakes his head no, then says "I couldn't care less who wins and losses up there".
From the short time they spent in the port city of Ramaee. They learnt the local population couldn't care less about the war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
The same goes from their time up in the capital city of Calinar.
Where the everyday people on the streets. Couldn't care less about the impending war between the neighbouring provinces in the south of the kingdom of Melaurn, the provinces if Karricaw and Corlinda.
It has nothing to do with them, and it's somewhere else in the kingdom. That's all that matters to them.
"They'll need to keep buying goods no matter what happens" says Bedric the merchant, followed by "Whether they're victorious or not".
He flashes a grin, then adds "It'll be good for business no matter what".
Both the elven spy and the hobbit council member, nod in agreement with the caravan owner. As they ride alongside the wagon he's on.
They keep traveling until stopping in the early evening. When Bedric realises the army of foreign mercenary companies. Are going to keep on marching late into the night.
As Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman sits at a camp fire with Bedric, and a couple of the wagon drivers. Where they share a bottle of cheap distilled spirits after eating dinner.
The spy Tanith slips away into the night. To go and chat with the assassins who undertook some of their training under the tutelage of Helbe the elven thief.
As Dalin speaks with those two from the lands Farque, who are passing themselves off as caravan guards.
The halfling originally from the Sultanate of Dreese, on the far east coast of the continent, nods his head when Bedric tells him "The last of their own supply wagons should pass us in the night".
"If they've got a quartermaster with that lot, i might be able to sell some of my wares directly to him" adds the local merchant, who has found the two strangers he's let ride along with his caravan. To be affable and easy to talk to, especially the hobbit.
Who is infact the first hobbit he's ever actually spoken to. He's seen a handful of them in his lifeline.
But Jarjin Littlefoot is the first halfling he's actually spoken to.
"I think they'll buy from you" says the hobbit from the far east coast of the continent as he hands the bottle of distilled spirits to one of the wagon drivers.
"Especially if it's something they don't already have" adds the former air sailor, who is now a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
Bedric the merchant nods, and says "Lets hope so". Before the bottle is handed to him, and he takes a swig of the distilled spirits.
In the end, the last of the mercenary army's supply wagons goes by in the middle of the night.
Though Bedric does get to speak to some of the drivers and guards, to see what they're taking with them north.
He's satisfied that there's plenty of things the mercenaries will need from him.
And when he and his caravan set off early in the morning. He knows he'll be able to do business with the mercenary companies once they finally come to a stop.
As they head north, Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit ride at the rear of the wagon caravan.
"What do you think?" quietly asks the halfling who is a former air sailor.
"They're not taking this lightly, that's for sure" is the reply from the elven spy who is originally from the principality of Alínlae.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin nods his head, then quietly asks "They fit in alright?".
"They have no idea they're even amongst them" quietly says the spy Tanith.
As amongst the supply wagons of the mercenary army that went by in the middle of the night.
Are spies and assassins in the armies of Farque, who were onboard the airship that brought Dalin and Jarjin to the southern city of Ramaee.
They're posing as guards and drivers in the supply line of the foreign mercenary army.
And during the night as they passed the camp of Bedric's caravan.
The elf who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque spoke to a few of them.
"They're heading to where we expect them to go" says Dalinvardèl Tanith who looks down at the hobbit riding on the pony to his right.
Jarjin Littlefoot nods, then quietly says "Straight to the border between the two provinces".
The halfling who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque is silent for a few moments, then he shakes his head as he quietly adds "That lot they're joining have no idea what's going to hit them" . . . . . .

To War 8.

Summer. Melaurn.

On the second morning after leaving the lands Farque, and traveling over the southern tundra. The fleet approaches the kingdom of Melaurn.
The fleet from the nation of Farque flies at the speed of it's slowest ships. The massive four masted transporters carrying the equipment and war machines of the engineering corp.
The exception to this is the command ship, the krean scoutship that lord Farque himself is onboard.
Which has already gone ahead, and is somewhere in the kingdom of Melaurn now.
As the fleet nears the eastern border of the kingdom. To be exact, the province of Orrinda.
Onboard the flagship, the triple masted battlecruiser in the middle of the fleet, Hamblin the adjunct quietly says "I wonder if they think we're invading them?".
"It might look like that truly" says the runner Marshay as they stand in the bow, looking to the west at the kingdom of Melaurn.
It's easy to see the border, one moment it's the undulating tundra, with it's green summer grass. With hardly a tree to be seen anywhere.
The next moment, there's suddenly trees, with undergrowth.
Marking the border between the Great Southern Tundra, and the kingdom of Melaurn.
Turning, and looking back through the fleet, Hamblin asks "Were you able to speak to Dammis or Furnid?".
"Dammis i did" says Marshay, who with Hamblin, is from northwestern Farque, where they spent the wintertime in basic army training together.
"He's with the engineers i take it?" adds Marshay, a lean young teenager, who has a crossbow strapped to her back.
"He is" says Hamblin, who is from a farming village in northwest Farque, called Polsten.
"So is Furnid" adds the teenage adjunctant, who continues with "Dammis has been assigned to their commander, a captain by the name of Tovis".
"The war engineer" says Marshay with a nod of her head, as she has heard of captain Tovis who leads the engineers of the first army of Farque.
As Hamblin looks forward again, the fourteen year old teenage boy from Polsten in northwestern Farque, says "It's interesting".
In response to Marshay asking him "What's it like being an adjunctant to one of the undead?".
As he's an adjunct, to be exact an officer in training. Who has been assigned to assist the undead heavy foot trooper Arveem.
Not that trooper Arveem needs assistance with anything.
For though the undead who have come along with the first army of Farque to the kingdom of Melaurn. They won't be in command of the army.
That's a job for general Salmic and a trio of field commanders. One of whom is field commander Drubine. Who was in charge of Hamblin and Marshay's training back in the winter. Up in the very northwest of their lord's lands.
Marshay is a common runner in the scouts and rangers division of the first army.
Who has been assigned to the senior officers in the command staff, many of whom are traveling onboard the flagship of the fleet.
The two teens from northwestern Farque turn as they hear loud muttering from somewhere behind them.
And they see a yawning ork warleader, Dorc da Orc has made his way up on deck.
The large ork, who is a general in the armies of Farque. Who has a battalion of his very own.
Who are traveling on a couple of nearby airships.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, is swearing to himself in his own language.
Most likely about being awake, when he spent all of last night drinking and talking with the pair of undead onboard. The brothers Arveem and Dargarven.
And it looks like the ork weaponsmith has come off the night of drinking a little worse for wear.
The ork, who is actually the highest ranking officer in the first army of Farque alongside general Salmic.
Nobody bothers to tell Dorc da Orc this. As no one wants him making any decisions of importance. 
Spots the two teenagers he recognises, and makes his way forward onto the bow deck.
Glaring up at the sun in the clear summer sky this morning.
Dorc da Orc grunts then mutters "Yeah cunts" in reply to Hamblin and Marshay saying good morning to him.
The large ork looks around, then asks the two of them "Any more of you little cunts from up north here?".
Referring to those who were recruits alongside Marshay and Hamblin, up in the northwest of the lands Farque. Who undertook the basic army training during the wintertime.
"There's a few from our group general" replies Hamblin, who names the others from their group, who are with the first army on the way to the kingdom of Melaurn.
There's the two of them, along with Dammis and Furnid, as well as Maselle.
Though neither Hamblin or Marshay have seen Maselle yet.
The warleader of the ork race, who is absolutely useless at remembering names, grunts then says "Well, you cunts do what ya told, and you gonna be fucken fine".
The ork weaponsmith looks around at the surrounding airships, and soon spots the two vessels his battalion are on.
And he says to the two teenagers "The general might need you cunts to send messages and shit, so be readies when we in the fucken war".
He waves vaguely in the direction of the two airships that his battalion are on, and adds "General Dorc's army will be in the fucken shit soon" followed in a mutter "We fucken always are".
There's a momentary pause from the large ork, who then chuckles, before says "That's what general Dorc fucken likes".
The two teens from the northwest of the nation of Farque share a look. And Marshay, who after all is a common runner. And is most likely the one who will end up running messages for the ork general, and his battalion.
Asks the warleader of the ork race "What's it like having goblins to command in battle general?".
As she and Hamblin have heard about the battalion of goblins within their lord's armies. But never actually seen them.
They like the rest of the teenagers in northwestern Farque they trained with during the winter.
Would often talk about the ork general and his battalion of goblins. Who frankly sound like an absolute nightmare to be both against, and be around in a time of war.
"Fucken goods" says Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name.
"Never lost a fucken battle we beens in" adds the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, which is infact true.
The large ork who is actually in exile from his homeland, the Ork Range. For killing his mother, the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe. Who at the time was doing her best to kill him.
Gestures towards the kingdom of Melaurn the flagship is just about to enter, and says "The general first gots his fucken army there".
The ork warleader continues on with "Years ago now, me fucken forgets how long ago it was".
It was about fifteen years ago now, during a winter war between neighbouring nobles in the province of Sorros in the kingdom of Melaurn.
The scout Lisell Maera makes her way up a ladder on the port side in a midships.
The lean attractive young woman, who originally comes from the city-state of Brattonbury, once on deck.
Looks around, and spots who she's looking for on the bow deck of the triple masted battlecruiser.
Seeing Dorc da Orc chatting with a couple of young teenage soldiers. One a runner by the looks of it, and the other an adjunct who the scout Maera has seen with the undead trooper Arveem.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well.
Looks around, and quickly finds the ork general's bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Who she knew would be fairly close by. As he's just infront of the forecastle here in a midships.
Acting as though he's looking where they and the rest of the fleet are heading.
When infact he's actually watching his bitter rival, the warleader of the ork race.
Lis slightly shakes her head, then she makes her way forward along the deck of the flagship.
The scout makes her way onto the bow deck, where the ork weaponsmith is chatting to a pair of young teenage soldiers.
Dorc da Orc grunts, and turns when Lisell Maera the scout walks up to him, and says "General you're wanted below".
The lean attractive twenty year old woman then adds "Field commander Drubine has called a meeting".
"Fucken who?" asks the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world.
"Tam" says Lis after she rolls her eyes.
Dorkindle grunts, then mutters "Why you not fucken says so".
The ork general in the armies of Farque who has known Tamric Drubine for at least a decade. And infact helped raise the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Often forgets peoples full names.
He turns to the teenage runner and teenage adjunct, and says to the two of them "See ya later cunts".
The ork weaponsmith briefly pauses before he tells the two of them "Oh, me will fucken asks for ya, if me need messages sent during the fucken war".
Both Hamblin and Marshay nod, and say "Yes general". Then share a look, before they watch the ork warleader walk away with the scout in black leather armour who has come to fetch him.
As they see the two of them head below deck. The teenage runner and teenage adjunct.
Spot another of their instructors from their basic army training in the wintertime. The foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic who is in a midships.
They see the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, head below deck too.
After he spots his bitter rival, general Dorc. Going below deck with the scout who has come and got him.
Lisell Maera and Dorkindle make their way to aft below deck. Going along a passageway on the starboard side of the flagship of the fleet.
With the large ork having to duck his head as he walks, or he will hit it because he's too tall for the passageway.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world scowls as he follows behind the scout who is originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks smells his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic below deck as well.
The nobleborn knight is in the port side passageway, heading to aft too.
The warleader of the ork race sourly smiles as he realises the former paladin is heading to the same place that he and Lis are going.
The scout Maera leads the ork general to the captain's stateroom, at the very stern of the ship.
Which Tamric Drubine the field commander has taken over for the journey to the kingdom of Melaurn. Which the flagship of the fleet has just entered.
The lean, attractive young woman who hails from the coast of the Southlands.
Whose mother was a prostitute on the streets of Brattonbury. And whose father, who she never knew or met, was a sailor.
Opens the door to the stateroom, and nods for the large ork to enter.
The ork warleader grunts, ducks down and enters the massive cabin that takes up the stern section beneath the wheelhouse up on deck.
The large ork is just glad to be able to stand upright below deck, now that he's in the stateroom.
Lisell Maera keeps holding the cabin door open, as sir Percavellé Lé Dic comes into view.
She follows the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic into the stateroom, and closes the door behind her.
Inside is field commander Drubine, his lover, Saanea the witch. Along with the war engineer Tovis, and Beldane the cleric. As well as Mira Reinholt the mage, and Shur Kee the monk. And the undead brothers Arveem and Dargarven.
Who are sitting off to one side, while the others are all standing around the large map table.
Helbe the elven thief isn't present. As he left with lord Farque on the krean scoutship.
Which is already here in the kingdom of Melaurn. Where exactly, no one is quite sure.
Looking at the new arrivals in the stateroom, Tamric Drubine the field commander says "Good, you're here".
Then gesturing at the map table, the nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin says "Let us begin".
Meanwhile up on the bow deck of the triple masted battlecruiser, the runner Marshay turns and looks at her fellow, former army recruit from the northwest of their lord's lands, and quietly asks him "Wonder what they're doing down there?".
"Probably going over the plans of attack" is the reply of Hamblin the adjunctant as the flagship and the rest of the fleet from the lands Farque flies into the kingdom of Melaurn . . . . . .

To War 7.

Summer. In The Air.

"They don't look entirely happy" quietly says Saanea the witch.
Nodding in agreement, her lover Tamric Drubine the field commander says just as quietly "They've realised we mean business".
The pretty looking spellcaster from the Maldin Hills thousands of miles away up the coast of the Southlands.
Looks forward to a midships, where a number of the delegation from the province of Corlinda in Melaurn, have come up on deck.
Then she looks at her lover standing next to her, who quietly says "We're not doing what they're expecting, so there's that too".
They're onboard a triple masted battlecruiser, the flagship of the fleet from the lands Farque.
That's heading to the kingdom of Melaurn, off to the impending war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
Two of the provinces in the south of the kingdom.
The fleet is over the southern tundra, heading southwest to Melaurn.
And though the delegation from Corlinda who secured the services of one of the armies of Farque.
Thought they'd be flying directly west into the north of Melaurn, then turn south and head down further south to their province.
Those in command of the first army of Farque, one of whom is field commander Drubine, have other ideas.
As they put into action the strategy that lord Farque himself has devised.
The two young lovers, the witch in her early twenties, and the field commander who is still a teenager.
Are on the aft deck of the flagship, just infront of the wheelhouse of the human designed, krean built warship.
Saanea who over the last year has learnt more of airships they she had previously.
Infact she had never been on one until she met Tamric and some of others in the group.
Knows that this large battlecruiser can fly a lot faster than other airships of a similar size.
Even though they're basically in the middle of the fleet as it heads over the southern tundra, or The Great Southern Tundra as it's often called on maps.
The young couple wander over to the starboard side rail, and look down.
And in the distance, a few miles away to the northwest, they spot a horde of barbarians. Slowly riding westwards with their herds.
Both the witch and the field commander wonder which horde it is. As there's quite a few of them who have territories in this part of the tundra.
Even further to the west, they spot what look like to be large creatures grazing on the summer grass.
After Saanea casts a farsight spell on herself, she informs her lover that they're tundra beasts, sometimes referred to thunder beasts.
Large, ponderous lizard like creatures. That are domesticated by the barbarian hordes. And often sold to those outside the tundra.
Those these ones in the distance to the west, are wild tundra beasts.
Unconcerned with what's around them, and what's about to fly over them.
Saanea the witch, and Tamric Drubine turn as the undead scout Dargarven makes his way towards them from the wheelhouse.
And though command of the first army is under general Salmic, and a trio of field commanders, one of whom is the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The undead who have come along with the first army and the fleet. Offer guidance as they undertake the strategy devised by the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"Our lord will be coming by to discuss something with you" quietly says Dargarven the undead scout. Who wears just a leather armoured vest to go with his pants and boots. And has a full helm tied to his belt. And a longsword strapped to his back.
Field commander Drubine, who wears half plate armour. Though not at the moment, nods his head, then asks Dargarven "Do you know about what?".
"Of course" says the undead scout with a grin, who doesn't elaborate.
Instead, he changes the subject, and nodding forward to along the deck to a midships, he quietly says "They don't look too pleased with the turn of events".
"We were just talking about that" quietly says the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills.
Whose command of the elven language has improved so much, that she now feels comfortable speaking it. As her lover Tamric Drubine, and the undead scout are doing.
"They'll learn to deal with it" quietly says Dargarven, who died alongside his older brother Arveem four and half centuries ago, the same day their lord died.
"Especially if they want to win" adds the undead scout in a slightly dry tone of voice.
Both Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Along with Saanea the witch, nod in agreement with the undead being.
"Wars don't go the way you want them to" quietly says Dargarven.
"Is that a famous quote from someone?" asks field commander Drubine who slightly frowns as he hasn't read that in any of the books he's studied.
"No" says the undead scout with a grin upon his youthful looking face, as he died around the same age Tam is now.
"I just made it up" adds Dargarven, which illicits a chuckle from the couple who are lovers.
Then the undead being, turns and looks up and to aft into the sky, and quietly says "Here they come now".
Both Saanea the witch and Tamric Drubine look back and up into the clear, near cloudless sky on this warm summer day.
And though the nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin doesn't see it for a few moments.
The pretty looking dark haired hillwoman, who still has the spell of farsight cast upon herself.
Easily spots the mastless airship a few miles behind the rest of the fleet, high up in the sky, rapidly heading this way. It's a krean scoutship.
And though the battlecruiser they're onboard is the flagship of the fleet.
The scoutship is the command ship. As lord Farque himself travels upon the quick moving airship that's gaining on the rest of the fleet as they fly over the southern tundra, on the way to the kingdom of Melaurn.
In no time the krean scoutship is alongside the triple masted battlecruiser that's the flagship of the fleet.
The smaller mastless vessel comes alongside to starboard, less than twenty feet from the much bigger warship.
With the captain of the battlecruiser safe in the knowledge that the best airship fliers in the world are flying right next to his vessel.
One moment no one is on the flat, mastless deck of the krean scoutship.
The next moment one of the undead wardogs runs up from below deck, and without stopping, and only taking a few strides, the massive canine leaps over to the deck of the battlecruiser.
"And hello to you too Anvil" says Dargarven the undead scout as the undead wardog lands just a few feet from them.
Softly barks at the three of them near the starboard rail. Turn around a few times in a circle, then promptly lies down. For all intensive purposes looking like he's fallen to sleep as he lies there with his eyes closed.
While across on the deck of the krean scoutship, lord Farque has come up from below deck.
The undead warlord walks across the flat, mastless desk. And just as easily as his wardog. He leaps over to the triple masted battlecruiser.
Landing next to Anvil, who cracks an eyelid to look at his master, thump his stubby tail on the deck a few times as he wags it. Before stopping his tail wagging, and closing the eyelid he opened.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord glances at Dargarven. And field commander Drubine knows that they're silently communicating to each other.
"My lord" says the undead scout Dargarven a moment later, who bows to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, then nods to the young couple who are lovers, before turning around and making his way to the wheelhouse.
The undead scout looks over at some of the nearby crew, and a few of the soldiers here on the aft deck, giving them a hand signal.
They all turn to their lord, bow to him. And make their way off the aft deck.
Leaving just the lord of the death realm, the undead wardog, along with the witch and the young field commander on the deck infront of the wheelhouse.
"A word with you two" says lord Farque to Saanea the witch and Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"Of course my lord" says the son of a previous knight of castle Drubine, a castle located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
As the krean scoutship moves away about fifty feet from the starboard side of the flagship, and easily keeps pace with the much larger warship.
The undead warlord, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
Looks ahead in the direction they're going, southwest across the southern tundra, heading towards the kingdom of Melaurn. The southern most ruled nation in the Southlands.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque is silent for a few moments, then he quietly says "Did you know my wife is from Melaurn".
The large figure in the full suit of blue, black heavy plate armour. That covers him from head to toe, quietly adds "Well, i should say her family is from there".
"I didn't know that my lord" says Tam, who knows that lord Farque was married, and had two children, twins. Who all died four and half centuries ago. During the invasion of the Southlands by the Holy Norstran Empire. A vast empire from across the Great Western Ocean.
That was eventually defeated by lord Farque in a war that lasted nearly three years. Which swept right across a lot of the Southlands.
Draugadrottin or Des'tier which is his elven name, which translates in common to, The Destroyer, nods his full helmed head before quietly saying "She is" he briefly pauses before adding in an even quieter voice "Was".
The couple see Anvil open his eyes and look at his master, then close them again when the undead warlord turns to the witch and young field commander and say to them "There's something i need to tell you".
The lord of the death realm is silent for a moment or two, then he says "Tam you know the order concerning couples serving together".
"Yes my lord i do" says the field commander who is still a teenager.
"If you two were married, you wouldn't be going off to war together" says Des'tier who follows that with "It's as simple as that".
The deathlord of Farque continues on with "Even couples in the same army, though not barred from serving together, aren't exactly encouraged to fight in the same battalion if they're serving in the same division".
The young field commander nods his head as he knows this. Next to him, Saanea the witch is learning this for the first time.
She has no formal position in the armies of Farque. And at the moment she's an acting adjunct to her lover, field commander Drubine.
She knows the only reason she's with the first army at this time. Is because she's a member, the newest member to be exact. Of the group that lord Farque has assembled over a number of years.
The first of whom was Dorc da Orc more than two decades ago. And the latest being Saanea, who joined last summer. When she was found by Tam and some of the others.
And though the make up of the group has changed over the years.
The undead warlord has more or less, kept them close to him. As they all play a part in the plans he has devised.
Chief amongst those plans, has seen the rebuilding of his armies over the last two and half decades.
And to see those armies start to be hired out, to wars and conflicts throughout the Southlands.
Just like they're doing now. Heading to the kingdom of Melaurn, to fight for the province of Corlinda, in their impending war against the province of Karricaw.
"Normally you two would be separated" says lord Farque as he looks at the couple.
"And wouldn't be in each others company during a war" adds the undead warlord.
"But since you're who you are" continues Draugadrottin referring to them being members of the group.
"We have this situation" says the heavily armoured deathlord.
The two lovers nod, after the lord and ruler of the lands Farque says to them "Do you understand?".
The undead being who has numerous names in numerous different languages, follows that with "Just remember anything could happen in the warzone".
The lord of the death realm continues with "Tam with what you are, i doubt you'll be in the thick of any action".
Referring to the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin being a field commander.
Who will observe any battle the first army might get into from a distance.
Where he will direct the various battalions and divisions alongside the other two field commanders, and general Salmic.
"Nevertheless, this is war, so who knows what the fuck could happen" adds Des'tier, who then asks the couple "You understand the risks then?".
"We do my lord" replies Tamric Drubine "Yes my lord" adds Saanea the witch after she and her lover share a look.
"Good" says lord Farque making it clear he's warned them. And if anything happens to either of them, so be it.
Looking at the pretty looking hillwoman, the undead warlord says to her "I understand you'll help Tam communicate with the other spellcasters throughout the army".
"I will my lord" says the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills in reply.
The deathlord of Farque who has only known Saanea since the spring. When he and the most of the rest of the group got back to the lands Farque. After spending nearly a year away, a half a year of which was spent returning to the Southlands from the far east coast of the continent.
Will finally get to see the witch in situations of stress. And to see what her worth is to the group he's assembled over the years.
They all have a place in his plans. And it's time to find out hers.
"Remember you have no actual rank in my armies, so feel free to do what ever you want if you think of something different to any orders Tam or any other senior officer might give you" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Saanea shoots a look at her lover the young field commander, then she says to the large, heavily armoured figure "Yes my lord".
Draugadrottin who towers over both living humans, nods his full helmed head. Then he looks forward along the deck of the battlecruiser to a midships.
Where half a dozen of the delegation from the province of Corlinda. Including baron Wilmot's son Krissner, and sir Jinpel who leads their forces.
Are looking back this way at the undead warlord, the field commander and the witch.
"They look a bit fucking sour don't they" quietly says the deathlord of Farque, the young couple next to him nod in agreement as he adds in dry tone of voice "Not getting their way with things tends to do that" . . . . . .

To War 6.

Summer. Farque.

They board early in the morning. And instead of flying south directly into the kingdom of Melaurn.
They head east along their southern border with the other airships that they leave the coastal stronghold with.
Onboard the airship, Dammis the young runner in the first army of Farque.
Looks to port in the early morning light. And on the deck of the airship that way, he spots amongst the soldiers.
Markell, who he did basic training with in the previous winter up in the northwest of the lands Farque.
He sees his fellow runner in the scouts and rangers division of the first army look this way. And nod in greeting when he spots him.
The young teenager from northwestern Farque nods in return as the airships head east.
Dammis has learnt that in the armies of Farque. If you're in the scouts and rangers division. You hardly ever work together as scouts and rangers in any group larger than a squad.
And more often than not, especially if you're a runner. You're assigned to another division. To work alongside them.
And right now, the young teen along with Markell over on the airship to port.
They find themselves assigned to the engineering corp. The battalion that's been based in the mountainous stronghold on the coast of their lord's lands. Right on the border with the kingdom of Melaurn.
Dammis doesn't know why they're heading along the border instead of flying down into Melaurn.
Now that the first army of Farque, well a sizeable portion of it. Is off to war, as they've been hired by the nobility of the province of Corlinda, in Melaurn. In their conflict against the neighbouring province, the province of Karricaw.
The ten airships, four of which are large transporters carrying the engineers equipment and war machines.
Are escorted by a trio of warships. A pair of twin masted frigates. As well as a krean strikeship. The deadliest, and most destructive airship in the skies of the world of Volunell.
They travel throughout the day. Leaving behind the border with the kingdom of Melaurn. And traveling along the border with the southern tundra.
They keep flying throughout the night, and into the middle of the next morning. Flying above the hill range along the southern border of their lord's lands.
"Yes captain" says Dammis the runner, when the war engineer Tovis turns to him and says "Runner, go and inform the cleric Beldane we're here".
The young teenager leaves his position on the aft deck with the two other runners, and heads below deck and forward.
In the forward hold, Dammis knocks on the door of one of the officer's cabins.
"Yes?" comes a voice from inside the cabin.
"Sir, we are here" replies the young runner from northwestern Farque.
"Very well" says Beldane the cleric after he shoulders his pack and opens the cabin door.
The fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell nods for the runner to lead the way back up on deck.
The member of the church of Glaine who has spent most of the spring, and the early summer.
In the city of Calinar, the capital of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Follows the black clad runner up a ladder, and onto the deck of the airship.
They head aft, as they do, Beldane glances around, and sees that their airship is to starboard of the rest.
Flying over the tundra side of the border, not over the hills themselves.
The powerful spellcaster faintly smiles when he sees this as he walks up onto the aft deck, where his friend, the war engineer Tovis waits.
"You want the captain to set us down?" quietly asks Tovis the engineer when he's joined by Beldane.
"No, it's okay, I'll teleport down" says the fighting cleric who isn't actually in the armies of Farque.
But he is a member of the group. Those who the lord and ruler of the lands Farque has gathered around him, to achieve his goals.
The war engineer, who is also a member of the group, which in it's current configuration. Numbers fifteen members.
One undead, one ork, two elves,  eight humans, a hobbit, a ground pixie, and the hidden member of the group, the soul of a Greater Dragon.
The powerful spellcaster who hails from the northern districts of the kingdom of Nastell, is not allowed to set foot in the lands Farque.
If he was just a regular priest, without any magical powers at all. He would be allowed to enter the lands of Farque. But he's not, so he isn't allowed.
So he has to wait just on the otherside of the border, while the airship, along with the others from the coast. Briefly put down on the north side of the hill range.
The two of them, one a cleric from Nastell, and the other, an engineer from the kingdom of Druvic.
Look overboard, and down "Must be their delegation" quietly says Tovis the war engineer. The fighting cleric in the half plate armour nods in agreement.
As they see just over the border, a camp that's just been broken down, and packed away.
"Guess they'll be flying back with the fleet" says Beldane the cleric, who is a member of the church of Glaine. A god that's widely followed in the northern duchies of his homeland, the kingdom of Nastell.
"There's Mira" quietly says the powerful spellcaster as he points down near those from the province of Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn.
"And there's his highness" adds the war engineer, who is relatively young in his early twenties. While his friend the cleric is nearly thirty years old.
They see the elven envoy, prince Helbenthril Raendril in conversation with a few of those in the delegation from the province of Corlinda in Melaurn.
"I'll see you later then" says Beldane the cleric to the war engineer originally from the kingdom of Druvic, where he served in the army of a baron Harkonin.
Standing nearby with the other runners, Dammis watches as the captain of the engineering corp shakes hands with the foreign cleric.
Then the spellcaster named Beldane disappears. Most likely teleporting away.
Then the airship which is slowly flying over the tundra side of the border. Swings away to port, to head up and over the hill range.
To land down on the north side of the hills, where the fleet to travel south with the first army has gathered.
"I don't think they truly understand what they've got with hiring us" says Mira Reinholt the mage as he stands with Beldane the cleric just on the tundra, looking over at the delegation from the kingdom of Melaurn who are ready to depart.
"They also have no idea what we're planning" adds the once powerful mage who is a member of lord Farque's personal council.
"What exactly are we planning?" asks the fighting cleric, who has no idea what they're actually going to do. Apart from that they're soon to set off for the kingdom of Melaurn.
"We're going to Melaurn" replies the spellcaster who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil, who quietly chuckles when next to him, Beldane dryly mutters "I know that".
The mage Reinholt, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster says "I'm not exactly sure myself" followed by "Farque hasn't explained it all yet".
"The lord is taking command himself?" asks the fighting cleric in a tone of surprise.
For the last time one of the armies of Farque was hired out. In the northern duchies of the kingdom of Nastell. For the robber barons in the unruled lands to the north of Beldane's homeland.
The undead warlord stayed in the background for the most part. And had one of his generals, and a trio of field commanders, do most of the planning, and commanding of that army.
"I'm not sure when it comes to battle" says the Vexilian mage in exile, who briefly pauses then tells the churchman "But he is planning the strategy" followed by "That he has told us in the council".
The powerful spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell nods his head in the direction of the nearby delegation from the province of Corlinda in Melaurn.
On what's a warm and sunny summer's day here on in the southern border region of the nation of Farque.
"What's his highness talking to them about?" asks Beldane the cleric, referring to Helbe the elven thief who is over with those Melaurians from the province of Corlinda, who have come and secured the services of one of the armies of Farque.
"Probably about where we're heading" quietly says the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld after accidentally casting a rift/void spell.
"To their province I'm guessing" says the member of the church of Glaine.
Next to him, his fellow practitioner of magic, the mage Reinholt slightly shakes his hooded head no.
Beldane's eyebrows shoot up when he sees the councilor shake his head no. As he wasn't expecting that for an answer from the exiled Vexilian mage.
The powerful cleric from the kingdom of Nastell wonders what's exactly going on, as he waits here on the tundra side of the border with Mira Reinholt the mage.
Dammis the runner, along with the two other runners make their way off the airship with the war engineer, and a group of other officers in the engineering corp.
The young teen from northwestern Farque finds himself following after the captain who commands the engineering corp. Who leaves behind the others at the rendezvous point.
Dammis as he and the war engineer head uphill, looks back down. To where the fleet are readying to depart. There's dozens and dozens of airships. Transporters and warships. Here on the northern side of the hills. Waiting to depart for the kingdom of Melaurn. Where the first army of Farque, well at least three quarters of it, has been hired by the nobility of the province of Corlinda, in their border conflict with the neighbouring province of Karricaw.
They head up the hill, with the young runner barely keeping up with the muscular looking man who wears something akin to a blacksmith's leather apron over his leather armour.
And though it's a warm day here in the hills along the southern border.
The war engineer originally from the kingdom of Druvic barely breaks a sweat as he walks quickly up the hill.
"Stay close" quietly says captain Tovis to the young runner as they near the top of the hill.
They start to see black clad soldiers every so often, by themselves amongst the trees.
And even more of them, when they go over the hill and head down it.
Dammis who spots the tundra to the south through the trees down the hill. Then sees a krean scoutship in a small clearing down to their left.
The war engineer starts heading that way, when a Farqian soldier all in black steps out from behind the tree, and quietly says "Further down the hill in the village, war engineer".
"Thank you" says the captain who commands the engineering corp of the first army of Farque.
Who with the young runner right behind him, heads down to a small hillside village amongst the trees.
Dammis figures the soldiers here and there amongst the trees are predominantly scouts and rangers by their appearance.
Though none in the first army that he recognises. And though he's only been in the first army since the start of spring.
He would of thought he's met most of the scouts and rangers division by now. But apparently not, for these soldiers, who are living. Don't seem to be like the other scouts and rangers he's met so far.
He wonders if they're the ones he's heard about. Who aren't just scouts and rangers. But are apparently more than that. What exactly, he's not too sure. He figures he'll find out one day.
The teenager from the northwest of the lands Farque, follows the war engineer into the quiet village.
The only settlement for miles and miles here on the southern border of the nation of Farque.
A black clad soldier, this one obviously an infantryman steps out of a house, and without a word, points them in the direction of the small tavern in town.
And though the village looks like it's near deserted, that's far from the truth. As the locals are keeping out of the way.
Tovis the war engineer and Dammis the runner walk by the soldiers kneeling out infront of the tavern.
Who closely watch the two of them approach.
A figure on the front porch of the tavern waves them forward.
The teenager from northwestern Farque sees it's a lean, attractive young woman, about twenty years old if he's not mistaken.
Who from all appearances is a scout in the armies of Farque.
Stepping onto the front porch of the tavern, the war engineer Tovis says "Lis" to the scout.
Dammis glances at the captain, as there was definitely feeling in that from him.
"Tov" replies Lisell Maera the scout in greeting, who then turns to Dammis and tells him "You can wait with the others in the shade there runner".
The young runner in the first army of Farque nods, and heads off the side of the porch, to the shade between the tavern and the next building.
While the war engineer, and the scout head inside.
Dammis catches sight of who is in the tavern, and on seeing the large figure in the blue, black heavy plate armour. He automatically bows, when he recognises his lord.
Before he steps off the side of the front porch, and the front door closes. He's sure his lord acknowledges his bow with a slight nod of his full helmed head.
In the shade where others are waiting, Dammis grins as he sees someone he knows.
It's Hamblin, who he went through basic training with in the wintertime, up in the northwest of the lands Farque.
Hamblin who is now an adjunctant by the looks of his black tabbard he wears over his armour.
Hamblin, who grins in return when he spots Dammis step into the shade next to the small tavern in the hillside village.
Meanwhile inside the tavern, Tovis the war engineer takes out a sealed missive from an inner pocket of his leather apron, and hands it to lord Farque, and says to him "From councillor Littlefoot".
As the undead warlord cracks the wax seal, and unrolls the parchment.
The captain in the engineering corp of the first army says "He said, he and Dalin found out something rather interesting in the city of Calinar".
The heavily armoured deathlord reads the missive, then after a few moments of silence, lord Farque slightly nods his full, helmed head then quietly says "That they did" . . . . . .

To War 5.

Summer. Melaurn.

Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit makes his way through the streets of Calinar, the capital city of the kingdom of Melaurn.
The halfling who is a member of the personal council of lord Farque, is making his way to the port.
Jarjin who isn't what he appears to be. Spots a couple of hordes outriders from the southern tundra walking on the otherside of the street, heading in this direction.
He doesn't know which particularly horde they're part of. But what he does see, is the two of them look his way, basically staring at him. As they walk by on the otherside of the street.
The hobbit who is a former air sailor, who hails from the otherside of the continent.
Refrains from frowning as he knows exactly why those two barbarian hordesmen stared at him.
It's because of what he's wearing around his neck on this warm summer day in the city of Calinar.
A traditional black cloth of the barbarian hordes of the southern tundra.
Which is slipped up onto the face, to cover the face below the eyes. Whenever a hordes barbarian, especially outriders, go into battle.
Jarjin Littlefoot, who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of the former air sailor.
The latest body he's inhabited over the last fifteen years or so. Ever since he first died in the province of Sorros, here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Clears his throat, and hopes those two hordesmen don't double back and confront him for wearing the traditional black cloth of the hordes barbarians of the southern tundra.
And he quickens his pace after he turns onto another street, wishing he was taller, with a longer stride.
As being a hobbit, definitely has it's disadvantages.
The halfling from the far east coast of the continent soon finds himself amongst some warehouses near the docks.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesmen is soon on the street he's been looking for.
The member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Counts off the buildings on his left, and when he gets to the fifth warehouse, he climbs the outside stairs to the door on the second floor along the side of the building.
The door is slightly ajar, and standing in it is Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy. Who ushers the halfling inside when Jarjin gets to the top of the stairs.
"What is it?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, who continues with "The messenger send it was urgent".
"This way" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who leads the former air sailor across the floor, here on the second floor of the warehouse.
The spy Tanith, who hails from the elven principality of Alínlae, who is now an officer serving in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Leads councillor Littlefoot to a pair of window shutters, one of which the elven spy opens.
Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson finds that they're overlooking a dock, and down below longshoremen are carrying goods into the warehouse.
The hobbit sees a couple of piers directly opposite the warehouse, where a few ships are tied up at the moment.
Pointing out to the harbour, towards the south headlands. Dalinvardèl Tanith, or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, says "See those two ships just going around the headlands there?".
"Yeah i do" says the halfling from the otherside of the continent, who like the elf beside him, has the advantage of naturally enhanced eyesight. One of the benefits of which is farsight. Allowing them to see far greater distances than a human being is able to see.
"They're the last two in a fleet of about thirty ships that came into port in the middle of the night" explains the elven spy who previously served in one of the more prominent noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae.
"Stopped off for fresh supplies and water" continues Dalin, who follows on with "They're going south of course, heading around The Corner".
The Corner, is exactly what it means. It's the very southwest corner of just not the kingdom of Melaurn, and the Southlands, but the entire continent.
"Then along the south coast to the province of Selvah Na" says the spy Tanith "And the city of Ramaee" says Jarjin Littlefoot as he interrupts the elven spy, who nods his head.
The halfling who is a former air sailor, who served in the forces of the Sultanate of Dreese, a nation on the far east coast of the continent.
Slightly shakes his head, as he can already see where this is going.
"Theirs?" asks Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin.
"Theirs" is the reply from Dalinvardèl Tanith.
The hobbit who is a member of lord Farque's personal council slightly grimaces. Then he says "I'm guessing mercenary companies from up north along the coast?".
Referring to further north along the coast of the Southlands, a thousand miles or more north of the nation of Farque.
"Yeah" answers the elf in the grey hooded cloak as they look out across the harbour, at the pair of ships about five miles away, sailing around the headlands to the south.
"From as far up as Gilsom" adds Dalin, who continues on with "I'm guessing between a hundred and hundred and fifty mercs on each ship, so there could be about three and half thousand of them in that fleet".
Jarjin Littlefoot lets out a breath, then mutters "Fuck" in the halfling language, before continuing in elven which they're conversing in "Some long term planning going on here".
The spy Tanith nods his hooded head in agreement, then does so again, when the hobbit says "I wonder if they know we've sided with Corlinda?".
As word got to them a couple of days ago that the province of Corlinda has been successful in hiring one of the armies of Farque in the impending war against the province of Karricaw.
"I wouldn't bet against it' says the elf originally from the principality of Alínlae, who continues on in a dry tone with "The nobleborn here aren't exactly discreet".
Councillor Littlefoot just grunts in response to that. For the spy Tanith is indeed correct.
As the nobles in both the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw. Haven't exactly made it secret what their intentions towards one another are.
Nor is it been a secret that both sides of the impending war. Have been trying to gain the services of one of the armies of Farque.
Neither the elven spy or the former air sailor, wouldn't at all be surprised if the nobility in the province of Karricaw know that those in Corlinda, have been successful in hiring one of the armies of Farque.
"There's nothing we can do about that" says Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who follows on from that with "Word will soon spread throughout the kingdom that one of our armies has been hired by the province of Corlinda".
Dalin nods in agreement, then after one last look at the pair of ships sailing around the southern headlands of the harbour, he closes the window shutter.
The two of them, halfling and elf. Head back across to the door, which once the spy Tanith opens, they head outside, and down the stairs.
The elven spy who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque.
Is just about to mention something to the halfling who is a former air sailor.
When the door behind them and to the right, slams open, and a number of men come running out at them.
Before either one of them can act, one of the men, drops to the ground with an arrow through the throat.
While the second man's head just suddenly explodes in spray of blood and bone fragments.
The third and final man who runs out of the doorway, having seen what happened to the men infront of him. Goes to run away to the right, but is dropped by an arrow that takes him in the guts.
And before he can't start screaming in pain from the arrow in the stomach, he's knocked out by a kicked to the head from Dalinvardèl Tanith who moves quickly to shut him up.
Then the elven spy who hails from the principality of Alínlae, along with the halfling who is from the Sultanate of Dreese, which is all the way on the otherside of the continent. Look carefully around for a few moments.
"In your squad?" quietly asks Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson when they spot a pair of black clad figures stand up on a roof of one of the buildings across the street.
"Hardly" says the spy Tanith, who continues on with "We work singly".
The officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, who recognises one of the black clad figures who nods to them, before dropping out of sight again, quietly says "They're your shadows".
"Eh?" says the hobbit who is a former air sailor as he looks up at the elf who towers over him.
"You're a councillor, and you need protecting" says Dalin, who then follows that with "And much more important than me" he then quietly adds "They're two of those trained by Helbe".
Assassins, Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson thinks to himself, who then quietly asks "How long have they been watching over me?".
"Ever since we got back" replies the spy Tanith, referring to those in the group who returned to the lands Farque at the start of spring, after spending nearly half a year traveling back to the Southlands from the otherside of the continent.
"They watch over all of you" says the elf as he snaps the arrow off in the stomach of the unconscious man, then picks him up, and puts him over his right shoulder.
"Who?" asks the hobbit who is a former air sailor.
"Councillors" replies the elven spy who after briefly pausing as he looks around, adds in a slightly dry tone with "Well, except his highness". Referring to prince Helbenthril Raendril, who is better known as Helbe the elven thief.
"Well, i never" mutters Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin, who then asks "Who ordered that?".
"Who do you think?" says Dalinvardèl Tanith in reply.
The halfling from the far east coast of the continent sourly smiles after he grunts when he hears that.
Then he nods, when the elven spy quietly says to him "Come on, let's see what he can tell us".
As the spy Tanith nods at the unconscious figure he's carrying over his right shoulder.
Leaving the two dead bodies on the ground next to the side of the building.
Jarjin Littlefoot and Dalinvardèl Tanith move off, with the unconscious man over the right shoulder of the elven spy.
A short while later, they're in one of the safe houses here in the city of Calinar that Dalin and the other spies from the lands Farque use whilst in the capital city of the kingdom of Melaurn, a city that's just a handful of miles from the border.
The two soldiers in the armies of Farque, who have been assigned to watch over councillor Littlefoot, have joined them.
One is a scout, and the other is a sorcerer. Both of whom are assassins who have been specifically trained by Helbe the elven thief and others.
"Do you want me to take out that arrow and heal him sir?" asks the sorcerer as he looks at the spy Tanith.
"No" answers the elf who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"Just make him barely comfortable enough to answer our questions" adds the elven spy who is originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland.
They look down at the unconscious figure lying on the floor of one of the rooms in the safe house.
The man is dressed as longshoreman, as were the other two who were killed before they could attack the elven spy and the halfling who is a former air sailor.
"Can you read minds?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot as he looks at the sorcerer, a young man in his early twenties.
"I can councillor" replies the spellcaster who also happens to be an assassin.
"Read his as we question him" says the hobbit who is from the far east coast of the continent.
Who then nods, when the spy Tanith tells the sorcerer "Wake him".
The captive wakes with a groan, and clutches at his stomach, that still has a broken bit of an arrow still in it.
And though he's alive and conscious, he's not exactly free of pain or too comfortable.
As the sorcerer has done only the bare minimum to keep him awake and not scream in pain from the arrowhead in his guts.
The elven spy and the hobbit councillor start questioning the man who attempted to attack them, speaking to him in the common language.
After questioning him for the rest of the morning, Dalinvardèl Tanith and Jarjin Littlefoot share a look.
Then the spy Tanith says in elven to the sorcerer "Get everything?".
"Yes sir" is the answer from the assassin who is also a spellcaster.
"Knock him out" says Dalin, the next moment the man on the floor is unconscious again.
The elven spy takes one of his daggers, and slits the unconscious man's throat. Then says to the sorcerer "Get rid of the body".
The elf and the hobbit, along with the scout who has been silent all this time, turn their heads as there's a sudden flash of white light from the body on the floor.
They feel a brief burst of heat, and when they look back, the body is gone. All that remains is a small smattering of white ashes on the floor.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman nods his head in agreement when Dalin quietly says "That was enlightening".
Referring to what they found out from questioning their would be attacker.
Then after conferring with the sorcerer, who informs them that the captive spoke the truth.
And the spellcaster come assassin tells them what else he learnt whilst reading the mind of the captive.
The elven spy in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, and the halfling who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque share a look.
After a bit of silence, it's eventually broken by Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit who says "Well, this should be interesting then" . . . . . .

To War 4.

Summer. The Border.

Shur Kee the monk looks up at the village on the hill, then down and out at the southern tundra.
A horde, the Knife River horde is riding away across the tundra after packing up camp, as they've completed their trading here on the border.
Here is the only place for hundreds of miles that the barbarian hordes can come and trade on the border of the lands Farque.
It's also the only place for hundreds of miles, that the hordes are peaceful. As no horde has a territory here along this part of the border.
Just down from the hillside village up amongst the trees, on the Farque side of the border.
The short, statured monk looks away from the departing horde, hundreds strong, on ponies and wagons carrying all their possessions.
And looks away to the right, where just across the border is another camp.
This one obviously not a barbarian horde camp. As the tents are square and large, compared to the yurts that the hordes use.
Not to mention there's full grown horses on the lines along one side of the camp.
Near a stream that comes down from the hillside on the Farque side of the border.
The physical adept, who is member of the philosophical order of Bru Li.
Walks away to the right for about thirty yards, near the base of the hill.
Not far from the lone sentinel who stands there looking out at the tundra, which is all one can see as you look to the south.
The lightly armoured woman, who Shur Kee knows isn't alive. Ignores him, as her duty is to protect the lands Farque.
And not let anyone to pass unless they're allowed to.
The acolyte in the order of Bru Li, who is glad of his white clothing on such a warm day.
Not to mention the odd conical shaped hat he wears, that offers him a bit of shade as the sun beats down on what's a hot summer morning along the border.
Waits awhile, and eventually a group make their way from the camp that set up last night, on the tundra side of the border.
It's the delegation from the province of Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn.
With them are two members of lord Farque's personal council, Mira Reinholt the mage, and Helbe the elven thief.
As the group from the camp approach the lone sentinel. The mage Reinholt spots the short, statured monk standing amongst the trees, and nods his hooded head in greeting to him.
Shur Kee nods in return, then turns and heads back up the hill to inform those waiting in the village.
That the delegation who have come to negotiate, are about to cross the border and enter the lands Farque.
The physical adept, who is the living incarnation of the Jade Warrior, Bru Li.
Makes his way up the trail, about fifty yards or so through the trees, where the trail opens up to a clearing infront of the village.
There, a hundred black clad soldiers, all kneeling in a fan like formation, half bow at the waist at the appearance of the short, statured monk.
Who is an honorary member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Shur Kee briefly stops, and bows in return. And he goes by the soldiers in black. Whose discipline and stillness the physical adept has never encountered anywhere else in his travels.
And these are all living soldiers. And not the undead of the lands Farque.
The honorary councillor hurries around the waiting soldiers, and makes his way into the hillside village, that's quiet this morning.
Making his way to the front of the small tavern here in the village, Shur Kee the monk quietly says "They are coming up".
"Thank you councillor" says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who turns at an adjunct and tells him "Hamblin inform trooper Arveem that the delegation from Corlinda are coming up".
The young field commander knows the undead trooper is already aware that the group from the kingdom of Melaurn are crossing the border, and are now making their way up to the village.
"Yes commander" says Hamblin the trainee officer, who quickly moves off. Heading up through the village, to further up on the hill, sits the krean scoutship that came from The Citadel, the capital of the lands Farque yesterday.
Shur Kee looks away to the left, where in the shade between the small tavern and the next building.
Sits Dorc da Orc, who is hugging a frozen barrel to himself, trying to keep cool on what's a hot morning.
Also, standing in the shade between the two buildings. Though as far from the large ork as possible.
Is the ork general's bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic. The heavily armoured knight spots the physical adept looking his way.
And nods in greeting to him. As they all wait for the delegation from the province of Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn, to make their way up into the village.
A short while later, and the small group from Melaurn are in the tavern. Negotiating with those waiting in there for them.
And while his fellow council member Helbe the elven thief is inside. Mira Reinholt the mage makes his way outside. And joins Shur Kee the monk on the front porch of the tavern where the two of them quietly chat.
"We ran into a bit of trouble" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage, who continues on with "Twice actually".
The once powerful mage explains to the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, that the delegation representing the nobility of the province of Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Were attacked just after leaving Corlinda, in the province of Moleau. Then again in the province of Mofosild.
And though it's the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw that are in conflict with one another. As they dispute their shared border.
Anything goes elsewhere in the kingdom. Just as long as they don't draw any of the lords and nobles in the other provinces into their conflict.
"We lost a couple of retainers, and a few of the guards in both attacks" says the mage who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil.
As Shur Kee nods, the spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, quietly says "Word is they've done the same, and attacked the delegations that the province of Karricaw have sent".
"This is true" says the physical adept who is a few years younger than the once powerful mage. With the two of them, have known one another for nearly two decades.
"The delegation before last from Karricaw lost nearly half their number traveling here" adds the short, statured monk.
"They did not cross into the tundra like you lot did, but instead went all the way north through the kingdom to get to the border" continues the living conduit of the Jade Warrior, Bru Li.
"Good thing we did" says the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers about fifteen years ago. When he went offworld after he accidentally cast a rift/void spell.
The mage who accidentally cast another rift/void spell last year. Thankfully this latest one sent him, and half of the group. Only to the otherside of the continent, and not offworld.
Quietly says to the honorary member of lord Farque's personal council "It's a foregone conclusion" in response to Shur Kee quietly asking "Will the deal be struck, do you think friend Mira?".
The Vexilian mage in exile continues with "The only issue is the one of command".
For the delegation from the province of Corlinda in Melaurn don't exactly want to give up command of their own forces in their impending war against the province of Karricaw.
"I'm sure Helbe and the others will talk them around" says the mage Reinholt, who along with Shur Kee. Are glad not to be part of the actual negotiations. And that others are dealing with that.
"The baron sent his son Krissner to argue the point to let this sir Jinpel to if not command them, then at least co-command them" adds the highly skilled swordmaster, who briefly pauses before continuing with "No way Farque will allow that".
The physical adept nods in agreement, then he looks uphill. To where the krean scoutship sits amongst the trees up there. Onboard which, lord Farque himself waits.
As the undead trooper Arveem, his brother, the undead scout Dargarven.
Along with Helbe the elven thief, field commander Tamric Drubine, and a couple of others negotiate with those from the province of Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Inside the tavern that Shur Kee and Mira Reinholt are standing on the front porch of.
Though no doubt, it will be the young elven noble, Helbe the elven thief. The envoy for the armies of Farque. Who will be doing most of the talking for the lands Farque. Who the delegation from the kingdom of Melaurn. Want to hire one of their armies. For the growing conflict between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
"How do things fare there, friend Mira?" quietly asks the short, statured monk, who is originally from the kingdom of Wah Lee. Which lies on the far eastern coast of the continent.
"Things are definitely building up between the two provinces" is the reply from the Vexilian mage in exile, who follows that with "Even in the surrounding provinces, you can see plenty of movement, of mercenary troops and equipment going to either Corlinda or Karricaw".
The spellcaster, who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Pauses for a moment or two, before quietly saying to the honorary member of lord Farque's personal council "I'm surprised war hasn't actually broken out already".
Next to the mage Reinholt from the city-state of Vexil, the physical adept from the kingdom of Wah Lee, nods his head in agreement with the highly skilled swordmaster.
Then the acolyte in the order of Bru Li glances sideways off the porch, to the shade between the tavern and the next building.
There sits Dorc da Orc, who asks the two of them on the front porch of the tavern "We gonna fucken fights?".
"Maybe" replies Mira Reinholt the mage who first met the large ork during the battle of Vexil, when the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, was only seventeen years old.
The ork warleader grunts, then eyes his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who is also in the shade. Sitting on a barrel up against the next building along.
As the ork general starts muttering away to himself about how they better hurry the fuck up so that he go off to war.
Shur Kee the monk and Mira Reinholt the mage turn, as Helbe the elven thief makes his way out through the front door of the tavern, and joins them on the porch.
"Need a bit of a break" explains Helbe the elven thief as he stretches. "Arveem and Tam are speaking with them at the moment" continues the elven magic user.
"What's the hold up?" asks the once powerful mage, who then adds "Over who is going to command?".
The young elven noble who is from the island principality of Laerel, nods his hooded head yes, then quietly says "They're hell bent on having sir Jinpel having some type of command".
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, briefly pauses before going on with "No way Farque will allow it".
The elven masterthief continues with "Either they hire us, and we have full command of all of their forces, or they don't" he then adds "It's as simple as that".
Both the highly skilled swordmaster and the short, statured monk nod. As they know that's one condition lord Farque will not give up on, no matter what.
"Just tell them if they don't agree, and we don't take the offer" quietly says the mage Reinholt, who continues with "We'll take that last offer from that lot from Karricaw, who are willing to give command of their forces over to us".
"Yes, i believe that will get a reaction from them" says the acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li.
"Hopefully the right reaction" murmurs prince Helbenthril Raendril in the royal elven language.
Then switching back to the common language, the elven envoy quietly says "I'm saving that for a last resort".
The highly talented elven magic user who has been ordered not to influence the delegation from Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn, then says to his fellow council members "I better get back in there".
Shur Kee and Mira Reinholt watch the young elven noble make his way back into the tavern. To continue on with negotiations with the delegation from Corlinda who are wanting to hire one of the armies of Farque.
The physical adept from the far east coast of the continent, and the highly skilled swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil, wait all morning.
Until near midday, when Shur Kee the monk glances uphill, and spots lord Farque walking down to the village from the krean scoutship.
The short, statured monk gestures that way, and the once powerful mage looks that way too, and sees the lord and ruler of the lands Farque making his way down to the village.
"Well, i guess they've made a decision" quietly says Mira Reinholt who then looks at the closed front door of the tavern. Inside of which, the negotiations have taken place.
The two of them step to one side on the porch as the undead warlord walks through the quiet village, and makes his way to the tavern.
"We gonna go to fucken war?" asks Dorc da Orc when the large, heavily armoured deathlord steps up onto the front porch of the tavern.
"Soon" is the reply from lord Farque who glances at the ork general sitting in the shade between the tavern and the next building.
Then the lord and ruler of the lands Farque nods for Shur Kee and Mira Reinholt to follow him inside.
The lord of the death realm opens the front door of the tavern, and enters.
He's followed by the once powerful mage who is a member of his personal council.
And the physical adept, who is an honorary member of the same council.
Inside, they join the others. And Shur Kee along with the mage Reinholt. Find out how the negotiations have gone.
And what decision has been made concerning the hire of one of the armies of Farque.
For the nobility of the province of Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn, in their war against the neighbouring province of Karricaw.
Shur Kee the monk slightly nods his head when he hears the decision, which is the one that was expected.
The short, statured monk also knows that on the otherside of the hills, infact just behind this one.
Airships are already coming in, and have landed. As a sizeable portion of the first army of Farque is already gathering, as they prepare to head to the kingdom of Melaurn.
To fight in the impending war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw . . . . . .

To War 3.

Summer. Farque.

Dorc da Orc walks back and forth waiting for a spellcaster. He doesn't care which one. Just as long as there is one.
Nearby next to a pillar, are a couple of barrels. One of ale, and the other full of water.
He filled the one with water himself. To say that was a challenge, is an understatement in the extreme.
The large ork believes he deserves a medal or something for doing that.
Finally amongst the people coming in, or exiting the building. The ork warleader catches the scent of one who is a spellcaster.
"Hey you" says Dorc da Orc to the young woman he walks towards.
She stops and says "Yes general".
"Fucken over here" says the ork weaponsmith, who leads the young spellcaster over to the barrels.
"Freeze this fucken one all icy like" says the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
"And this one fucken cold" adds the ork general in the armies of Farque.
The young spellcaster, a sorceress. Does exactly what the large ork wants.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name. Grunts in satisfaction, and with a nod of his head, dismisses the sorceress. Who continues on her way, out of the building.
The warleader of the ork race straps the cold barrel of ale to his weapon harness.
Then he picks up the frozen barrel of what was water, and is now ice.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. Sighs in relief as he hugs the frozen barrel to his chest.
And though it's not all that warm here inside the building. It's still too warm for the large ork. Who absolutely hates this time of the year, summer.
The ork weaponsmith is just about to wander away, and find a quiet place to drink his cold barrel of ale.
When in walks his bitter rival, the foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
"Come along you filthy beast" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who continues on with "His lordship wishes our presence, wot".
The nobleborn knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic would rather not inform the large ork he's wanted.
But he's been specifically told to fetch the ork general in the armies of Farque.
The former paladin turns and makes his way outside. After a few moments, his bitter rival the ork warleader heads outside too.
With the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world eventually following behind him.
Dorkindle steps outside and scowls up at the sun on this warm, sunny day.
Here in The Citadel, the capital city of the lands of Farque.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks continues to hug the frozen barrel to his chest.
Trying to keep himself cool on this warm summer day.
He heads after his bitter rival, the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
Who is making his way towards the three massive towers in the middle of the city, that's the capital of the nation of Farque.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Is always amazed when he looks at the three towers that dominate the skyline here in The Citadel.
When he arrived here in the capital for the first time during the spring. The heavily armoured knight couldn't believe at what he was seeing.
The buildings and their construction are like nothing else he's ever seen, anywhere in the Southlands. And those places he's seen beyond the Southlands.
But what stands out even more than anything else. Are the three towers in the middle of the city.
They're so tall, over a thousand feet in height each. That on some days with low loud cover. You can't even see the tops of the towers.
Three towers, that have a mirror like glass cladding over them.
They're so foreign looking to the eyes of the former earl of Lé Dic, which is family's fief in eastern Druvic.
That he couldn't believe they were possible if someone told him about them, before he actually saw them for himself.
The member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che. Refrains from shaking his full helmed head as he looks at the towers, he's walking towards.
Instead he glances back to make sure his bitter rival is doing that as well. Which he is. Much to the relief of the former paladin.
The two rivals, the foreign knight and the ork general make their way to the one tower that's partially open.
The other two towers are closed to everyone with the exception of lord Farque himself, and a small handful exempt from doing so.
As Percy enters the tower, into the foyer as it's been described to him as.
The temperature drops inside, and it's much more tolerable for the ork warleader who follows him inside the tower.
The foyer is empty except for a number of runners and adjunctants sitting on the benches, that are moulded into one of the walls.
As the former paladin looks down and wonders what the floor is made of.
His bitter rival, standing nearby. Hugging the frozen barrel to himself.
Looks up, and watches the section that's coming down into the foyer.
It's a platform, like a moving floor. That's dropping down the face of the tower, as the foyer, along with the rest of the base of the tower, is much larger, and wider than the rest of the structure, that stands over a thousand feet in height.
Eventually the former earl of Lé Dic looks up and watches the platform coming down to the foyer.
The ceiling of which, that looks like glass. But isn't. Slides open in two parts. Allowing the platform to drop down into the foyer that's about three storeys high.
On the platform are a few people. One of whom is Tamric Drubine the field commander.
The other two, are the undead brothers Dargarven and Arveem.
When the platform sets down on the floor, the young field commander waves to Percy and Dorkindle to join them on the platform.
As the bitter rivals make their way over to the platform, the undead heavy trooper Arveem has a quiet word to field commander Drubine about something, as he looks over at the runners and adjunctants.
Then Arveem the undead heavy trooper says "Adjunct Hamblin join us".
The young officer in training gets up from the bench he's sitting on, and makes his way onto the platform as the bitter rivals, the foreign knight and the ork general do.
"Hey cunts" says Dorc da Orc in the ork language.
"Hey Dorc cunt" says the brothers Dargarven and Arveem in unison in the language of the orks.
Dargarven the undead scout, who is standing at the plinth, on top of which is flat panel, that looks like dark glass.
Touches the panel, and the platform starts to rise up, going through the ceiling. That closes beneath it, as it goes up the face of the tower.
"What fucken goin' on?" asks the ork weaponsmith as he stands beside the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Negotiations" replies Tamric Drubine the field commander, who is glad the ork warleader has switched to the common language.
"A delegation from the province of Corlinda in Melaurn will be arriving at the border soon" adds the teenager, who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
Dorkindle grunts, then falls silent as the platform rises up high into the sky.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world enjoys the breeze as the platform gets higher and higher up the face of the tower.
It eventually stops about three quarters of the way up the tower. Where it becomes part of an even larger platform.
On which waits a few people, most important of whom, is lord Farque himself.
As they walk across the platform to where the undead warlord and the others are standing.
Dorc da Orc looks away to their right across the city, and as an airship lifts off from the roof of a building down below.
He spots another airship passing over the city heading towards the towers.
This one a krean scoutship that's making a beeline for the tower that they're on.
After the young adjunct Hamblin bows to his lord, the heavily armoured deathlord points at the approaching krean vessel.
"We'll be going to the hills on our southern border" says lord Farque, who continues on with "Another delegation from Melaurn will be arriving later today".
The undead warlord follows that with "From the province of Corlinda" the lord and ruler of the lands Farque pauses for a moment or two, before adding "Looks like they're willing to pay way more than their previous offers".
He glances to his right where Narladene the ground pixie is hovering, who nods yes to what he just said.
The krean scoutship comes in and lands, and the first one to board is one of the undead Farqian wardogs.
Dorc da Orc can't tell which one, but he knows it's not Axe. But figures it's either Anvil or Hammer.
The same size as Axe, but slightly broader in the shoulder.
The rest of them board the mastless airship. That quickly takes off, heading south across The Citadel. On it's way to the southern boarder of the nation of Farque.
The scoutship flies straight, meaning it doesn't go through a sky rift. Allowing the passengers onboard to stay on the mastless deck, or go in the wheelhouse.
While lord Farque, along with the undead brothers Dargarven and Arveem, along with the young adjunct Hamblin are in the wheelhouse.
The bitter rivals Dorc da Orc and sir Percavellé Lé Dic are out on the deck, with the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
The ork general in the armies of Farque keeps an eye on the wardog that's lying nearby.
As he's sure it's been eyeing up the frozen barrel he's still hugging to himself to keep himself cool.
Though it isn't all that warm at the moment, as the krean scoutship is flying fairly quickly, in excess of fifty knots, creating a strong breeze much to the relief of the warleader of the ork race.
"I say young Tam, you think his lordship will take this offer?" asks sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who quickly adds "Wot".
"I think so" replies Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"By all accounts, they can't offer any more than this one, and those in Karricaw are unable to get anywhere near this new offer from those in Corlinda" adds the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Both the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, and the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, grunt when they hear that.
As both of them, bitter rivals. Have been itching to get into a bit of action. Hoping that one of the two provinces in the kingdom of Melaurn that are in conflict, make a high enough offer to hire one of the armies of Farque.
Infact Dorc da Orc suggested to lord Farque to take the very first offer either the province of Karricaw or Corlinda came with.
The ork general didn't care what it was, just as long as they could go off to war somewhere.
And though the large ork is more than a little disgusted that it looks like they're going to be fighting at the worst time of the year for him, the summertime.
It's balanced in the fact he will get to kill a lot of people, and hopefully eat a fair few of them too.
Dorkindle shoots a look at the nearby wardog, which rolls over, then grunting in satisfaction as it's no longer looking this way, the ork weaponsmith asks "How big of a fucken army we gonna take?".
"Most of the first by the sounds of it" replies Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
The young field commander who was assigned to the first army of Farque in the spring, bringing the two bitter rivals along with him.
Says to the warleader of the ork race "Er maybe" is response to the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks asking him "Can general Dorc take his fucken army?".
"I bloody well hope not, wot" mutters sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who doesn't mind the battalion of goblins in the armies of Farque.
He just dislikes that they're led by his bitter rival Dorc da Orc. Who he believes shouldn't lead anyone, anywhere.
"The lord will have to decide on that Dorc" says Tam, who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
As the krean scoutship travels quickly to the hill range along part of the southern border of the lands Farque. Heading more southwest than directly south from The Citadel. Which is located in the south of the largest nation by size in all of the Southlands.
Dorc da Orc sits down on the mastless deck to enjoy the wind as the scoutship cuts through the air, far quicker than any other airship on the world of Volunell can fly.
The ork general keeps an eye on both his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic, and the nearby wardog, who Tam mentions is Anvil.
While the former paladin stands nearby, chatting with field commander Drubine.
They're soon over the hill country, a part of which lives clans of hill dwarves.
Much to the disgust of Dorkindle. Who was captured by them nearly twenty five years ago when he first came to the lands Farque.
It's when he first met the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who rescued him from the prison, a deep pit in the ground, that he was held in at the time.
They head west, quickly leaving behind the area of the hill country where the dwarven clans live.
The krean scoutship picks up speed, going close to seventy knots, making speech difficult to be heard. And for those who aren't undead, to either sit down on the deck. Or go into the wheelhouse, or below deck.
As he's buffeted by the wind, sir Percavellé Lé Dic remains on the deck, sitting there. Because his bitter rival is doing so.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic doesn't like letting the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world do anything, that he can't do himself.
To say they try to one up one another, would be an understatement.
The two of them, ork general and foreign knight. Truly are rivals in everything they do.
In the wheelhouse of the krean scoutship, Tamric Drubine looks out one of the front windows.
And shakes his head as he sees the two bitter rivals Dorc and Percy. Sitting on the deck, not far from one another as mastless vessel heads quickly westwards above the southern border of the lands Farque.
The young field commander slightly shakes his head again at the antics of the ork warleader and the former paladin, then he turns and joins in the conversation that lord Farque and the others are having, concerning the latest offer from the nobility of the province of Corlinda in the kingdom of Melaurn . . . . . .