The General & The Knight 46.

Spring. A Hill On The Border.

Dorc da Orc growls as he slams his head into the side of the hull again. Making the hole larger, so that he can fit through it.
The large ork looks inside, to below deck. And sees one of the crew has run into view.
Carrying an axe, which he swings at the heavy rope that the ork warleader is holding onto.
"Bads man!" shouts Dorc da Orc as the crewman swings his axe again at the heavy rope "Stop doin' that!" adds the ork general in the armies of Farque.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world sticks his head in through the hole near the bow of the airship.
And gets whacked in the face from a wooden club swung at him by another crewman below deck.
Growling and muttering "Fuckhead bitchface". The large ork reaches in, and grabs the raider who just whacked him in the face.
The ork weaponsmith might be too large to fit through the hole in the starboard side of the airship at the moment. Not so the crewman who he's just grabbed.
And as the raider yells and screams in fright, the ork warleader yanks him out through the hole in the bow.
Though the crewman barely fits, and his clothes are torn to shreds. And his skin is torn apart as he's hauled out through the hole in the side of the hull.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, flings the screaming crewman away.
Who hits the ground with a thud, head first. Snapping his neck with an audible crack.
"That will fucken learns you for hitting Dorc in his pretty face" mutters the large ork, who then looks back through the hole he's trying to make bigger, so that he can get inside the twin masted airship.
The general in the armies of Farque, who has spent most of the winter training the groups of teenage recruits based in the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Then coming out to the coast, to the bordertown of Halmard. To help complete the training of the first group of recruits.
Growls as he sees the crewman with the axe, is now attacking the longspear that's stuck through one of the upright beams, below deck.
That's a better proposition than the thick rope, which is thicker than a man's arm. And almost impossible to cut, unless you're immensely strong.
Dorkindle grabs onto the edge of the hole in the starboard side, near the bow of the raider's airship.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks hisses in anger after the crewman with the axe, with a few hefty blows of his weapon.
Snaps the longspear that the ork warleader threw through the hull of the airship.
The broken half of the spear, and the rope attached to it. Is whipped out through the hole in the side of the twin masted vessel.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world lets go of the rope. Which along with the broken part of the spear it's still tied to, falls out through the hole in the starboard side of the former cargo ship.
The warleader of the ork race tries to hold onto the edge of the hole with one hand.
But his grip quickly gives away, and with a muttered "Fucknuts". The large ork falls backwards to the ground.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks doesn't fall far. Not even ten feet, before he finds himself lying flat on his back on the ground.
The ork general blinks in surprise, then he grunts as he realises the twim masted airship has stopped.
And the front, at least along the first thirty feet from the bow backwards, is on the ground too.
Dorkindle quickly gets up, and though an arrow shot from an archer up on deck.
Slams down into his right shoulder, which he barely even feels as it sticks up out of his shoulder.
And a crossbow bolt fired by a raider looking down over the starboard rail. Hits the top of the large ork's head, which he definitely doesn't feel as it bounces away.
The ork who was named warleader of his race by lord Farque a number of years ago.
Reaches up, and grabs a hold of the broken edges of the hole in the starboard side of the airship, near the bow.
And starts pulling himself up, as he attempts to haul himself in through the hole in the side of the twin masted vessel.
On the otherside of the raider's converted cargo vessel. On the port side of the airship.
Dorc da Orc's bitter rival. The foreign knight, Sir Percavellé Lé Dic. Who is further along the side of the airship. Closer to a midships, has almost climbed up the length of the chain, to the rail along the port side of the twin masted vessel.
The former paladin chuckles behind the faceplate of his full helm. As again he hears the tormented screams of the raider, the grappling hook has dug itself into, as it wrapped around the rail when the nobleborn knight threw it.
The heavily armoured knight quickly looks up, then swings away to his right.
When he looks up, and sees a crewman looking down at him, about to shove a staff down at him.
The former earl of Lé Dic, as he swings back. Grabs the staff with his left hand. And yanks down as hard as he can.
The raider holding the staff, yelps as he over balances. And topples over the port side rail, and falls overboard.
He barely gets out the start of the scream before he hits the ground face first.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Stops his momentum, to stop himself from swinging from side to side.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic. Goes to reach up, as he's easily close enough to grab the port side rail.
When he suddenly finds himself falling backwards towards the ground.
Apparently some of the raiders up on the deck in a midships have decided to act.
And they've taken the raider with the grappling hook in his upper right leg, and side.
Picked him up, and thrown him overboard. The part of the port rail the some of the chain is wrapped around, is ripped out.
And that, along with the raider with the grappling hook in him. As well as Percy who was trying to climb onboard. All fall to the ground.
"Narille" groans sir Percavellé Lé Dic after he hits the ground back first with a thud, after falling about twenty feet.
The former paladin groans, then rolls to one side. An arrow thuds into the ground where he was just lying.
The nobleman who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, reaches out and rips out the grappling hook still in the leg and side of the raider who was just thrown overboard.
As the barely concious raider groans as blood sprays everywhere from his fatal wounds.
The member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che. Continues rolling, so that he ends up underneath the twin masted airship.
The former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of his homeland, Druvic.
Who has spent the winter helping to train the teenage army recruits from across the northwest of the lands Farque.
Groans as he gets to his feet, then after muttering "Narille" as he bumps his full helmed head on the underside of the ship's hull.
The heavily armoured knight drags the rest of the chain towards him. He quickly gathers it up, then looks around.
"Not going to beat me onboard" loudly mutters the nobleborn knight as he spots the legs of his bitter rival hanging down the side of the airship. Further forward, near the bow on the starboard side.
The foreign knight, who has no actual position or rank in the armies of Farque.
Shakes his head, then starts moving aft beneath the twin masted vessel.
Percy who moves with a limp, as that fall hurt him. Intends to get onboard the raiders ship before his bitter rival the ork warleader does.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic decides to get up onboard on the stern. As he suspects the raiders are too busy paying attention to what's happening infront of them.
Looking at the stopped airship, Hamblin the teenage recruit draws back his bow, and lets the arrow to it fly.
The shaft slams into one of the raiders with a crossbow halfway up the foremast.
The man falls to the deck with a sickening thud. As shouts and yells come from those onboard the twin masted vessel.
Hamblin who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits who have trained throughout the winter, mostly based in the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Before they headed out to the coast, and the bordertown of Halmard to complete their training.
Runs sideways to avoid getting shot by those raiders onboard the airship with ranged weapons.
The teenage army recruit from the farming village of Polsten which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of the town of Gildin Dale.
Sees out of the corner of his eye, another of the raiders fall back from the starboard rail with an arrow through his throat.
Hamblin knows that he was shot by his fellow army recruit Jinsa. As she's the most accurate archer in their group.
The teenage army recruit who is just thirteen years old. Drops to the ground behind a fallen tree.
And he looks at the twin masted airship, that has well over a hundred of the raiders onboard, closer to a hundred and fifty if you count the crew.
Hamblin blinks as he sees general Dorc trying to squeeze himself in through a hole in starboard side hull, near the bow.
As the son of farmers from the village of Polsten, shakes his head, and takes another arrow from his quiver.
And tries to spot the bitter rival of Dorc da Orc, sir Percavellé Lé Dic. Who he thought he saw fall to the ground over on the otherside of the airship that's a converted cargo vessel.
Spots the former paladin at the stern of the twin masted airship, full of raiders from the unruled lands to the north of the border.
The heavily armoured knight is looking up at the stern of the vessel. Swinging the chain with the three pointed grappling hook at the end of it, as he does so.
It seems to Hamblin that the two bitter rivals, who have helped to train the teenage army recruits from across the northwest of the lands Farque.
And who have gone out on patrol, north of the border, with the first group of teenage recruits.
Are hell bent on getting into or onto the twin masted airship, that the raiders from the unruled lands have landed on a hill, that's exactly on the northern border of the lands Farque.
Behind the downed tree, Hamblin gets to a knee, draws his bow back as he takes aim, then lets the arrow fly.
The shaft takes one of the raiders in the face as he leans over the starboard rail, trying to shoot a crossbow bolt down at general Dorc.
The ork warleader grumbles and grows as he tries to pull himself in through the hole in the starboard side of the hull, just back from the bow.
The large ork, who for a brief moment. Wishes he hadn't eaten that raider they captured from their makeshift village. So that he can fit through the hole in the side of the former cargo vessel more easily.
Though only for a brief moment. For the ork warleader would never willingly forgo food. Especially food that consists of a human chopped up into bits.
Looks to his left when he hears something. The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world reaches out and grabs the cargo net that's just been draped over the side.
The ork weaponsmith yanks down hard, ripping the netting out of the hands of the crew who are tying it to the starboard rail.
The cargo net, and one of the crew, still holding onto it, fall to the ground.
The large ork grunts in satisfaction, and as another of the raiders falls overboard to his right with an arrow in his neck, barely missing him.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks slams his head into an edge of the hole in the side of the airship.
"Ugh" mutters the large ork who is slightly dazed after that. Though wood went flying, and the hole in the starboard side hull near the bow, is much larger now.
The ork general in the armies of Farque, reaches through, and hauls himself inside the airship.
The warleader of the ork race basically slides inside the twin, masted vessel.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name. As he lies there on his rather ample belly.
Punches out with his right hand, snapping the left leg of the crewman who runs at him.
It's the crewman with the axe, who broke the ork weaponsmith's longspear.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, gets to a knee, and grabs the man's fallen axe.
And slams it down into the face of the crewman screaming in pain from a broken leg.
"That's what you get for being a bads man ya cunt" mutters Dorkindle as he looks at the crewman whose head is chopped completely in two. One half above the mouth, the other below it.
"And for fucking up Dorc's spear" adds the large ork in a disgusted sounding mutter.
Then the ork warleader gets up, and grunts "Fuck" as he bumps his head on the bulkhead above him.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks looks around, and finds himself in what was the forward cargo hold of the twin masted airship.
Dorkindle doesn't see many of the crew down here. Infact he's killed the two who were actually in here, when the vessel came to a stop on the hill.
The large ork moves off, murmuring "Get some" to himself. As he heads to the nearest ladder that will take him up on deck.
Meanwhile, Dorc da Orc's bitter rival. The former paladin, sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Hangs there on the chain he's climbing, as he makes his way up the stern of the twin masted vessel.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic listens carefully, then quietly says to himself "They seem to be a bit preoccupied with things, wot".
As hears shouting, and the yelling of orders from up on the deck of the twin masted airship.
The heavily armored knight after looking up, pushes off the stern of the vessel, kicking out so he swings backwards.
His momentum brings him back forwards, and the nobleborn knight kicks in the window shutters of the aft cabin.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic or Percy as more often than not, he's called by those who know him well.
Falls into the captain's cabin, hitting the floor with a thud after he lets go of the chain he was climbing.
The member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che, groans then rolls over, and pushes himself up, and gets to his feet.
"Getting old there Percy son" quietly says the former paladin in a rare admission of the truth.
Though only in his mid forties, a lot of the things he would of found easy to do fifteen years ago, take it out of him a bit more at the age he his now.
Even so, the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic can still move fast when he has to.
And he quickly makes his way across the cabin to the door just as it bursts open.
"Take that villain" says Percy who throws a punch that connects with the face of one of the crew.
The man's nose is shattered, and teeth go flying from his mouth after getting hit by the steel gauntleted right hand of the former earl of Lé Dic.
The landed and ordered knight from the kingdom of Druvic then rams his right knee into the face of the crewman. Who is on his knees, spitting out blood.
Percy who is essentially a walking weapon due the full suit of heavy plate armour he wears.
Lifts up the faceplate of his full helm, and listens carefully as he looks down the passageway infront of him.
The nobleborn knight grunts, then closes the faceplate of his helm. And takes a pick and a hand axe from his belt.
The former paladin heads down the passageway, in search for a ladder that will take him up on deck.
The two bitter rivals, Dorc da Orc and sir Percavellé Lé Dic, are now onboard the raiders twin masted airship.
Doing exactly the same thing. They're below deck, looking for a ladder that will take them up onto the deck of the vessel, that's landed on a hill, right on the northern border of the lands Farque . . . . . .