Spring. Along The Border.
Hamblin the teenage army recruit looks up at the twin masted airship. Which has tilted enough in this direction, that he can now see what's happening on deck.
The young teenager, who is the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
Who spent most of the winter living and training in the forest town of Gildin Dale.
Before heading out to the coast at the end of winter, to the bordertown of Halmard to complete their training.
Blinks in surprise at what he sees up on the deck of the converted cargo vessel from the unruled lands.
He sees the ork general Dorc da Orc, running along the deck of the airship. Barely keeping his balance on the sloping deck as he runs through a midships.
Before he crashes head first into the main mast of the airship that's stationary above the north face of the hill.
Hamblin grimaces as even from down on the ground he hears the loud crack when the ork warleader runs into the main mast of the raider's vessel.
As the ork general stumbles and falls over, and disappears from sight for a bit.
The thirteen year old from the farming village of Polsten, which lies about forty five miles to the southeast of Gildin Dale.
Looks to his right at his fellow recruits Golmard and Jinsa who are standing next to him behind a fallen tree.
The two of them look at him, as they've just seen the same thing as he has.
Eventually it's Golmard the teenage army recruit who breaks the silence between them and says "Well" he pauses for a moment or two, before adding "So that's happening then".
Jinsa slowly nods, then Hamblin nods too.
Golmard clears his throat, then slightly winces as he flexes his left arm, where he's taken a cut from one of the raider's blades.
The largest of the teenage army recruits in the first group, ties the cloth around his wound tighter with the help of Jinsa.
While Hamblin looks back up at the deck of the twin masted airship, that's stationary and slowly tilting in this direction, to starboard.
He can once again see general Dorc, on wobbly legs, heading back aft, to where sir Percavellé Lé Dic is at the stern of the twin masted airship.
Even from here, down on the hillside, the unofficial leader of the first group of recruits.
Can hear the former paladin yelling at his bitter rival the ork warleader to hurry up.
Hamblin then looks down at his feet, then reaches down and plucks a dagger out of the neck of a dead raider who jumped over the fallen tree to attack them.
Holding the dagger in his right gloved hand, Hamblin the teenage army recruit says "More of them will come this way".
As he sees the crew and raiders who stayed onboard, are now abandoning ship.
They've tied ropes to the rails, mainly on this side, the starboard side. And are climbing down them.
Wanting to get off the stricken vessel, which could very well fall out of the sky if it fully tips over.
As they wait, Hamblin looks back up at the deck of the twin masted airship, which is tilting in this direction.
And he sees the ork general, Dorc da Orc. And the foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
Discussing something as they stand on the aft deck, holding onto the stern railing to keep themselves upright.
Dorc da Orc grunts and shakes his head to try and clear it. The large ork is more than a little fuzzy headed at the moment. Infact the ork warleader hasn't felt this disoriented in many a year.
And he grunts when next to him, his bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic says to him "I think that fat unshapely head of yours is doing the trick, wot".
The nobleborn knight continues on with "There is definitely a crack up the mast for sure".
The heavily armoured knight who was hoping the ork weaponsmith had also cracked open his skull that last time he ran into the main mast of the raider's vessel.
But unfortunately for the former paladin, no such luck. As the large ork's head is stronger than rock.
And he says to his bitter rival "One more good whack from that ungainly lump that is your noggin, might bring that mast down, wot".
Dorc da Orc rapidly blinks his eyes as he peers at the main mast of the stationary airship.
Trying to get it into focus. Considering he is seeing two of them at the moment. He briefly saw three masts just after he crashed head first into it the last time.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world shakes his head again to try and clear it.
Then he grunts as he now sees the crack going up the length of the main mast of the raider's vessel.
Well he sees the identical crack going up both main masts he's looking at, as his vision is a bit blurry at the moment.
The only reason he's hit the main mast the last couple of times is because he's been smelling which mast to actually run into.
His vision might be deceiving him a bit at the moment. But his extraordinary sense of smell is still as accurate as ever.
The ork general takes an axe from his weapon harness, and biffs it with quite a bit of force.
It misses the raider on the starboard rail about to climb down off the ship he was aiming for.
But it does smash into another of the raiders about to tie a thick rope to the starboard side rail.
Both the raider and the rope he's holding go over the rail, though the raider is missing most of his head.
"Yeah cunt, wait a fucken mo" says Dorc da Orc in response to his bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic telling him "Hurry up beast, get a move on".
The heavily armoured knight as he holds onto the stern rail, glances sideways at the large ork. Who is speaking with a bit of a slur.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic figures the repeated blows to the ork warleader's head as he runs into the mast over and over again.
Has addled what little brains he has within his large, thick, lump of a head.
The former paladin who is glad the raiders have all but forgotten about them.
Considering he's having a hard enough time keeping his footing whilst holding onto the stern rail.
Fighting the raiders from the unruled lands to the north at the same time, would be difficult to say the least.
The former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of his homeland, the kingdom of Druvic.
Is about to tell the ork warleader to get a hurry on. As the twin masted airship could suddenly tip over if they're not careful.
When the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world says "Right fucken get some ya cunt".
Before he sets off at a run across the deck of the twin masted airship that's a converted cargo vessel.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, who is more than a little unsteady on his feet.
Heads up the deck, to the left, or to the port side. Almost shuffling as he barely keeps his balance as the raider's airship, slowly continues to list to starboard.
"Keep still ya fucken cunt" growls the ork general in the armies of Farque with a quick glance down at the deck as he heads into a midships, as he heads towards the main mast of the airship that's stationary in the sky, about forty or so feet above a hill, here on the northern border of the lands Farque.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name. Runs with his head down, as he can't really trust his vision at the moment.
And is relying more on his sense of smell, and his naturally enhanced hearing.
The large ork is stumbling as he runs trying to keep his balance as he heads towards the main mast, that's already been damaged by the warleader of the ork race.
On the aft deck, holding tightly onto the stern rail. Sir Percavellé Lé Dic or Percy as he's more often than not, called by those who know him well.
Sourly smiles, then rolls his eyes as he watches his bitter rival the ork general.
Who as he runs through a midships, starts squealing like an oversized, enraged pig.
The ork warleader continues to squeal right up until he smashes head first into the main mast of the raider's vessel.
There's a loud audible crack when the large ork runs head first into the mast.
The ork weaponsmith staggers backwards, then falls down onto his butt.
There as he sits on the deck, Dorkindle shakes his head, then looks up at the mast.
Blinking as he sees two main masts due to the bit of double vision he's got at the moment.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world hears a loud crack from the base of the main mast, and from the decking beneath it.
The ork general in the armies of Farque scoots backwards on his rear end, barely keeping himself from rolling over, and sliding down the sloping deck to the starboard rail.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. Whose large skull he has tied to his wide leather waist belt.
And though he's more than a little woozy, and he's seeing double.
The ork warleader scrambles to his feet, and starts making his was aft, to where his bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic is at the stern rail.
Dorc da Orc grunts as behind him there's a brief pause, and one can hear the raider's airship creaking as it floats in a stationary position in midair.
Then there's a loud tearing sound that emanates from the decking beneath the main mast of the former cargo vessel.
"Well would you look at that, wot" murmurs sir Percavellé Lé Dic as he watches the decking get ripped up, and the main mast starts to topple.
As his bitter rival, the ork general makes his way back to the aft deck.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world staggers back this way.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic watches the main mast of the stationary vessel. Rip up out of the deck, and topple forward along the length of the ship.
The former earl of Lé Dic holds on tight to the stern rail as the main mast crashes down through the spars and cross members of the smaller foremast.
It actually misses the forward mast itself, though only barely, and slams down upon the deck.
Lying lengthwise, just on the port side of the centre line of the converted cargo vessel.
The raider's airship violently dips down about ten feet in the air, then bobs back up and is stationary again.
And though the main mast crashed down upon the deck. It hasn't really crashed down through it.
True, some of the decking, and the forecastle is destroyed.
But for the most part the fallen mast lies upon the deck of the raider's airship.
Dorc da Orc gets up as he's stumbled over, then he frowns as he looks at his bitter rival the former earl of Lé Dic.
Who stands there with a sour looking smile upon his face.
The heavily armoured knight isn't looking at the large ork, he's looking forward along the deck.
The warleader of the ork race takes a step, then he stops as he notices something.
Dorkindle who is on the aft deck, says "It not so fucken wonky now".
Percy, who isn't holding onto the stern rail anymore, nods his head, then dryly says "We've righted the ship, wot".
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks turns and looks forward along the length of the ship, and sees what's happened.
The big burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world stands there, and is silent for a moment or two, then he says "Fuck".
"Indeed" says the nobleborn knight who nods in agreement with his bitter rival the ork general.
The two of them were hoping that the main mast would at least fall a bit more to either the port or starboard side than it actually has.
So that the two of them could climb down it, and get off the airship if that main mast had crashed down through either the port or starboard rail.
Now there's just part of a sail, and some of the sheets and lines, hanging over the port side.
While the converted cargo vessel that belongs to the raiders from the unruled lands.
Is no longer listing to starboard so badly, infact it's almost completely righted itself.
As it continues to stationary float about forty feet above the north face of a hill on the northern border of the lands Farque.
After watching the main mast of the raider's airship fall. And the vessel right itself.
Hamblin shares a look with his fellow teenage army recruits, Golmard and Jinsa.
And though some of the raiders and the crew who were climbing overboard and down the ropes they've tied to the ship's rails.
Have fallen to the ground, ending up either dead or injured as the vessel violently dipped then came up and righted itself.
Others are scrambling down the ropes again, which are bit more steady now that the stationary vessel is no longer listing to this side, the starboard side.
"Here they come" says Hamblin the teenage army recruit as he breaks the silence between the three of them.
Some of the raiders and the crew of the airship have spotted them behind the fallen tree.
And are now making their way along the side of the hill towards them.
The unofficial leader of the first group of teenage army recruits who is just glad none of them have bows or crossbows.
Though unfortunately most of them do have other weapons in hand.
Shouts "Our lord wills it!".
He's replied in kind by Jinsa, while Golmard replies with a shout of "Farque!".
Hamblin throws the dagger he took out of the neck of the dead raider at his feet.
The dagger takes one of the approaching raiders in the gut, dropping the man to the ground as he no armour at all.
Hamblin takes his sword in both hands now, as he along with his fellow teenage recruits, Golmard and Jinsa.
Fight off more of the raiders from the unruled lands. On a hill, along the northern border of their lord's lands. On what's the very first day of spring for the year . . . . . .
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