To War 14.

Summer. The Province Of Karricaw. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

Dorc da Orc scowls as he looks at his army. The ork warleader hopes they behave. But he rather doubts it.
After all, they're goblins. And he's their general.
The large ork looks up into the clear sunny sky this morning, and scowls again.
As it's already too warm for his liking. And the rest of the day promises to be even hotter.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world puts his hate for the sun, and summer in general, to one side. And looks away to his left. And scowls once more.
As about thirty feet away stands his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic.
The former paladin who is the ork weaponsmith's bitter rival decided to come along this morning. Much to the disgust of the ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name. Was dead set against the nobleborn knight from coming along this morning.
But Tamric Drubine the field commander has allowed the heavily armoured knight to join Dorkindle and his goblin army this morning.
The large ork wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his right arm.
The warleader of the ork race is just glad it isn't humid here in Melaurn during the summers. It's too far south for any kind of humidity of note.
Then with one last look at his bitter rival the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
The ork who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, looks to his right.
"You fucks stay here" says Dorc da Orc to the runners who have come along with his army this morning.
"If it goes to fucken shit" continues the large ork, who adds in a loud mutter "Which it fucken won't".
"You goes backs and tells fucken Tam" says the ork warleader, who tilts his head as if he's listening to something, before he grunts, then adds "Yeah, the fucken field commander".
"Yes general" says the runners in unison, one of whom is Marshay.
Who knows the ork warleader, as he was one of her instructors for her basic army training in the wintertime, up in the northwest of the lands Farque.
The ork general grunts, then calls out to his army "Move out ya cunts!".
The order is given, and the army of goblins move out.
Army is far too strong of a word to describe them. They're actually a battalion of goblins, who at the moment are serving in the first army of Farque.
When previously they were serving in the second army of the lands Farque.
Dorc da Orc is their general, who more or less leads them.
But it's actually one of their own, who is their commander. A small, bright, green goblin by the name of Teabagger, his full name being Teabagger the Goblin Cunt.
Who nowadays, is quite old for a goblin. Even though he's actually only in his early thirties.
Goblins don't live more than thirty five years of age if they're lucky. And Teabagger is extremely lucky for a goblin.
A race that's notoriously accident prone. Who are likely to kill themselves, and each other if they're not careful.
Which makes them absolute useless as soldiers. And nobody in their right mind would have them in their army outside of doing manual labour, or drudge work.
Lucky for this battalion in the armies of Farque. Their general is not in his right mind. And is completely crazy.
For the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world over the years has moulded his army of goblins into a formidable fighting force.
Who any enemy they might come up against in any battle or war they find themselves in.
Are always shocked that first, they're actually fighting against a battalion of goblins.
And second, that the goblins are actually quite good at warfare.
The element of surprise is always an advantage the battalion of goblins have in battle.
Which their general, when he remembers to. Often uses to good effect.
Dorkindle glances back and scowls as he sees his bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic is following him and his goblin army.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks was rather hoping the former paladin would stay behind with the runners, who are up on the hill, watching things.
The ork warleader mutters something to himself in the totally incomprehensible language of his race.
Then looks ahead, in the direction they're heading. Down amongst some trees, in the middle of which a road passes through the woods. Here in the west of the province of Karricaw, which is in the south of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Once they're in amongst the trees, it's the goblin commander, Teabagger who gives the order to spread out.
The goblin commander maybe old for one of his kind. But he basically looks exactly the same as he did fifteen years ago. When he first met Dorc da Orc. Here in the kingdom of Melaurn. Though up in the northern province of Sorros.
During a wintertime war between two nobles who were fighting over one another's lands.
Teabagger, one of the handful of goblins to remain from the original mercenary company of goblins that Dorc da Orc created fifteen years ago.
Makes his way over to where the general is. Only tripping over once to get there.
"We're getting ready general" quietly says Teabagger the Goblin Cunt, who like all of the goblins in the battalion, has been renamed by their general.
The ork warleader grunts, then he mutters "Silly fucken gob-a-lin". When he sees one goblin taking a spear strapped to his back, and nearly stab it into the side of the goblin soldier next to him.
"Watch what ya doin' ya cunts" growls the the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Who then rolls his eyes, and sourly smiles as another goblin trips over some tree roots, an almost skewers himself on his own spear.
The large ork just shakes his head, and steps behind the rather thick trunk of a tree. He's joined by the goblin commander, Teabagger.
Who winces as he sees more than a few of the battalion trip over their feet, as they quickly cross the dirt road, to get amongst the trees on the otherside.
While Dorkindle just sighs to himself as he sees some of the goblins trip up crossing the road that goes through the woods.
The ork who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
Who he killed, which was only fair, considering she was doing her best to kill him at the same time.
Is just relieved none of the battalion going across the road don't kill themselves. Which in his opinion is a minor miracle.
The ork weaponsmith then glances to the left and behind him, and spots his bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic standing behind a nearby tree.
Dorc da Orc scowls as he sees the former paladin resting a gauntleted hand upon the hilt of the sword of knockdown, which is on his belt.
A magical weapon that over the years, has also been in the possession of the large ork.
The ork general who believes he should have it once again. Especially considering the nobleborn knight has the magical shield of Saint Mar-che.
Grunts, and looks down to his right, and says "Huh?" followed by "What was that cunt?".
As the goblin commander Teabagger just said something, that the warleader of the ork race didn't catch.
"Fuckface Four has spotted them" says Teabagger who points up to a tree on this side of the hard packed dirt road that goes through the woods.
Dorkindle looks that way, and spots a small, dark green, almost black goblin up the tree in question.
The large ork who is impressed that Fuckface Four actually climbed the tree without falling and breaking his neck.
Nods as the small, dark green goblin points away to the west, then gives a couple of hand signals.
"Fucken riders alright" states the ork warleader, as that was expected to come their way.
"A company a couple hundred strong" adds Teabagger.
"Me know that cunt" says Dorc da Orc who was just trying to decipher the latest hand signals from Fuckface Four.
Then the ork general, and his offsider, the goblin commander. Both roll their eyes as the small, dark green goblin up the nearby tree. Slips off the branch he's standing on, and falls out of the tree.
The lower branches in the tree slow his fall, but all the same, Fuckface Four hits the ground fairly hard, and lies there groaning.
A couple of others in the battalion run and get him, and carry him away, back further in the woods.
"Should i bring up the Sauce?" quietly asks Teabagger the Goblin Cunt.
The ork warleader who is sniffing, as he can smell horses and their riders away to the west.
Scowls when he hears that, then says "It's The Fucken Sauce Cunt" he then mutters "Me should knows, me fucken names him that".
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world continues on with "And fucken nah, that silly fucken fuckwit can stays back" followed by "Don't trust the silly fucken dingbat".
"I'm Fucken Dingbat" says another goblin from behind another nearby tree.
Who shuts up when his general looks his way and growls "Me not fucken talkin' 'bout you, ya silly fucken gob-a-lin cunt".
Dorc da Orc grunts in satisfaction after looking around, and glaring at any of the battalion he can see, making sure they stay silent.
The ork weaponsmith then looks to where his bitter rival sir Percavellé Lé Dic is standing behind a tree.
And he sourly smiles as he sees the heavily armoured knight is now standing there, flipping the sword of knockdown with one gauntleted hand, while looking at the road that cuts through the woods.
The ork general grunts again, and looks down at Teabagger, and nods when the goblin commander quietly says "I can hear them general".
The warleader of the ork race who can hear the horses and riders in the distance to the west, heading this way.
"You cunts knows what's to do?" quietly asks the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world.
"Yes general" replies the small, bright, green goblin who is originally from here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Teabagger who made sure that every one of the officers told each of the soldiers in the battalion what they're expected to do this morning.
Glances up at his general, who as usual, especially in the summertime, absolutely stinks.
And hopes the large ork doesn't do something completely stupid. As he's the one most likely to do something that could mess up their plans.
The goblin commander then glances to where the foreign knight, sir Percavellé Lé Dic stands.
And realises that there's actually two of them who might totally ruin what they're up to this morning.
Then Teabagger the Goblin Cunt nods his head, as general Dorc hisses "Get ready cunts".
As even the former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, sir Percavellé Lé Dic can hear the approaching horses and their riders.
They're a cavalry company, the first to leave the border with the province of Corlinda early this morning.
When word got to the border about what's been happening here in the province of Karricaw.
They've been riding hard, a lot of the horses are blown out, and will be useless in the future.
As the company's lord leads them back to his lands, which are only a few miles away further to the east.
Where apparently his castle, and three villages on his lands were destroyed yesterday by an unknown army.
Though it's assumed it's the mercenary army from the lands Farque, which the province of Corlinda has possibly been able to hire.
The company have just two fore riders out infront, who don't see the battalion of goblins in the woods.
As goblins are difficult to spot at the best of times, even more so amongst a lot of evergreen trees.
Even the heavily armoured knight with them, keeps himself and his highly polished, shiny full plate armour, along with the clean, snow white cape he wears.
Hidden from the passing fore riders who hurry along the dirt packed road that cuts through the woods.
A short time later, and the cavalry company from nearby that's returning from the disputed border region, enter the woods as they hastily make their way back home.
Then once the entire mounted company are well and truly within the woods.
That the battalion of goblins in the first army of Farque, as well as their general. And the nobleborn knight who has come along with them, attack.
The cavalry company who have been riding hard all morning, covering nearly thirty miles from the border.
Are totally shocked and surprised as goblins, in black armour, black tabbards, and some with black cloaks.
Come running out from the trees with spears, which they plunge into the tired horses that are moving at a quick walk along the road through the woods.
The goblin battalion, which is actually outnumbered by the two hundred strong cavalry company of the local lord.
Are silent as they attack, until they hear a roar and a shout of "Fucken get some!" from their general.
Then they start shouting and hollering, yelling and screaming as they attack the column of riders who quickly left the disputed border early this morning.
Only to get within a few miles of their lord's lands, where they're attacked by a frenzied battalion of goblin soldiers.
Led by an ork general, who throws one of his own spears, that goes through the mount of the local lord, knocking it down, and crushing the local noble beneath it, if his screams are anything to go by.
The goblin battalion, their general, along with the former paladin who has come along with them.
Are the first in the hired army from the lands Farque, to actually attack the forces of the province of Karricaw.
They won't be the last either, as more and more of the Karricaw army return from the border, after hearing that their castles, villages, towns, and crops have been attacked and destroyed . . . . . .