To War 52.

Summer. Close To Where The Provinces Of Mofosild, Corlinda & Moleau Meet.

Shur Kee the monk opens his eyes after his early morning meditation.
And he finds Dorc da Orc looking at him. From where the large ork is squatting in the shade of nearby tree.
The short, statured monk who is from the kingdom of Wah Lee. Which is on the far east coast of the continent.
Is just glad the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world isn't squatting there taking a dump.
As the ork warleader doesn't care where he's shitting, or care that anyone is watching him as he does so.
"You're up early friend Dorc" says Shur Kee the monk after he gets up off the ground where he's been sitting, and walks over to the trees.
Though not too close to the ork weaponsmith. For though the ork general isn't taking a shit at the moment.
He still absolutely reeks. And has got progressively worse this summer. Especially since they haven't been around lord Farque for the last week or so.
As the undead warlord is the one most likely to throw the warleader of the ork race into a river or lake. To get him somewhat clean.
Snorting as he squats there, Dorc da Orc says "Dorc not sleep last night" the large ork then mutters "Sleeping is for fucken pussies".
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks nods to where Shur Kee was sitting out in the early morning light as the sun rises in the east, and he says "You praying to your fucken god there?" followed by "What he fucken tell ya?".
The acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li looks sideways at the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
He knows how devout the ork warleader is. Infact Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name.
Is the most religious person Shur Kee has ever known. More so than even the cleric Beldane.
As Dorkindle like all orks, is a true believer in their war god Krom.
For if ever there was a race of fanatical believers in a god. It's the ork race, in their belief of their god, Krom.
"Actually i don't pray to any god" says the short, statured monk who puts back on his odd, conical shaped hat.
"I was meditating upon the words of the founder of my order" continues the physical adept, who then adds "The Jade Warrior, Bru Li".
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, who is the son of the previous matriarch of wolf tribe of orks.
Squats there, blinking as he takes in what the fighting monk just said to him.
"A fucken mans?" asks the ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
Shur Kee, who is an honorary member of the personal council to lord Farque, nods his head yes in reply.
The warleader of the ork race blinks again, then he says "Well shit" followed by "Me always thinks it was your stupid fucken god you keeps praying and shouting about".
Dorkindle in the fifteen or so years he's known the physical adept, who wears strange clothing, and an even stranger looking hat.
Always thought Shur Kee believed in some god. He never thought the short, statured monk believed in anything that wasn't a god.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then just shakes his head.
Dorkindle who is always slightly cautious around Shur Kee. Well slightly cautious around him in battle, that is.
As in the past the physical adept when he used to have a crossbow. Would often shoot the large ork with it, as much as the enemy.
But he's actually slightly cautious of him, because of the strange powers that the short, statured monk has.
Which the warleader of the ork race has seen him use to devastating effect.
The only person the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world is actually fully cautious around, is lord Farque.
The large ork, who is still the largest member of the wolf tribe of orks at this current time.
Is even cautious with what he says around the lord and ruler of the lands Farque. Something he never does around anyone else.
The two of them look behind them, and spot the field commander Tamric Drubine making his way up through the trees to the top of the hill where they are.
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
Passes by a dozing Teabagger the Goblin Cunt, as the goblin commander is sitting, with his back against the trunk of a tree.
And like always, not too far from the large ork who is his general.
"Dorc can see anyone away to the west?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine the field commander who points in that direction.
"Not north" mutters Dorc da Orc, who gets up from his squatting position, and stretches before he looks away to the west.
While the young field commander who is in charge of a fairly significant force from the first army of Farque, quietly continues with "Saanea says there's movement on a road in that direction".
The ork weaponsmith grunts as he looks westwards, as the sun continues to rise in the east, on what looks like it's going to be another fine, and sunny summer day here in this region of the kingdom of Melaurn.
"Hmmmm" murmurs the ork who is a general in the armies of Farque, who then asks the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin "How far cunt?".
"About fifteen miles away" says Tamric Drubine, who is more commonly called Tam by those who know him well.
"Over in Moleau" adds the nobleborn teenager who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
With a sour looking smile upon his broad, green, brutish looking face, the large ork says "Can't see fucken shit that far" as he waves a big, meaty, skillet sized hand in that direction.
"Too many fucken trees and hills thataway" adds the ork who was named warleader of his race a number of years ago by lord Farque.
The first such one in over four centuries.
The young field commander nods his head, as he was expecting such. As the land here, where the three provinces of Mofosild, Moleau and Corlinda meet. Is rather hilly, with woods everywhere.
One would describe them as forests. But there's enough open ground, and open countryside in places, that it's more appropriate to call them woods than actual forests.
"Well, keep an eye out for airships, both their's and ours" says the son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine, a castle and it's surrounding lands that can be found in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
"And wyverns too" adds field commander Drubine, as the enemy have been using wyverns quite a lot.
Primarily as scouts, but also as messengers. Which is just as important for the crown's forces. Who are at war with lord Gormica of Salmah Forest. Who has hired the services of the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
As the small, bright lurid green goblin, Teabagger the Goblin Cunt wakes up. And joins his general on the top of the hill.
Tamric Drubine along with Shur Kee the monk head down the hill. After the young field commander has one last look away to the west, into the province of Moleau.
They're in the province of Mofosild, just a mile or two from the border with the province of Moleau, which is to the west.
And even less than that from the province of Corlinda, which is to the south.
The sizeable force led by field commander Drubine, which now numbers nearly three thousand of the ten or so of the first army of Farque who have traveled here to the kingdom of Melaurn.
First for the border war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw. Where they fought on the side of the province of Corlinda.
Then secondly, fighting for the province of Karricaw. And gaining them the victory in the conflict between two of the southern provinces in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Now they find themselves fighting for lord Gormica of Salmah Forest. The Karricawian nobleman who hired them to win him the war against the province of Corlinda.
Who is now fighting against the crown and king. Whose army, and that of their allies.
Have come to this region of the kingdom. Because they believe lord Gormica had the Farqian mercenary army attacked villages, and farming communities across the south of the province of Moleau.
Tam isn't too worried about anything to the east of their position.
As he knows no allies to the crown will come from the province of Orrinda.
Which is to the southeast of Mofosild. And directly east of the province of Karricaw.
As Orrinda, and the other southeastern province Pandilak. Are the most independent of the provinces in the kingdom of Melaurn.
They're not as rebellious as the province of Selvah Na.
But they take pride in their independence. And care for little in the rest of the kingdom.
And the young field commander has been told by the halfling councilor, Jarjin Littlefoot.
Who is really a barbarian hordesman from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson.
Who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of the hobbit, who hails from the far east coast of the continent.
That the provinces of Orrinda and Pandilak care more for what's to the east of them.
And having friendly relations with the various hordes out on the southern tundra. Than they do with the rest of the kingdom of Melaurn.
As they walk down the wooded hillside that's one large camp as the force that field commander Drubine leads, waits.
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin looks at the physical adept walking beside him.
Who like councilor Littlefoot, hails from the far east coast of the continent. The kingdom of Wah Lee to be exact.
Who says to the young field commander "Do you think they will make a major push across the border into Corlinda friend Tamric?".
"I think so" says Tam, who though still not twenty years old, is already a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
They've got reports from their scouting parties over the border to the west, in eastern Moleau.
That the enemy are building up their forces before crossing over the border into the province of Corlinda.
The enemy in the very east of Moleau are allies to the king, who have traveled down from the province of Olind. And to a lesser degree, the province of Sorros.
Though that troubled province, with it's continued infighting between neighbouring locals.
Have only sent a small number of soldiers south into the conflict zone.
The young field commander suspects that the nobility of the province of Sorros hasn't sent a lot of their armies south.
Isn't just because of the constant fighting between neighbouring nobles up there.
But also because the dowager mother of the king is from that particular province.
And the former queen, still holds a lot of sway at court. And a lot of the crown's decisions are shaped by her.
The young field commander and the short, statured monk get down to the base of the hill, where they get to Tamric Drubine's command tent.
Inside, they find the undead heavy foot trooper Arveem. Sitting on a wooden chest.
While some of Tam's aides and senior officers are at the map table, looking at their position in comparison to the latest information they have of the enemy in this area of the kingdom.
The senior officer in the armies of Farque glances out one of the side flaps that's open.
And he sees his lover, Saanea the witch standing outside in the early morning sunshine.
Eyes closed, no doubt watching whatever it is that her familiar is looking at this morning.
Then both Tamric Drubine and Shur Kee turn and look at the front flap of the tent, that they've just come through. And see the former paladin, sir Percavelle Lé Dic enter the command tent.
As sir Percavelle Lé Dic loudly mutters in a disappointed tone of voice "I thought that evil, smelly beast would be in here, wot".
Field commander Drubine says in the elven language to the undead heavy foot trooper "Dorc can't see anything from up on top of the hill".
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin then adds "Are they on the move?".
"They are" says Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper with a nod of his full helmed head.
"They're just getting going for the day" adds the large, undead being who like the young field commander, is speaking elven.
"Further north than us though" adds Arveem who can sense the enemy about fifteen miles away in the province of Moleau.
The undead heavy foot trooper nods to the map table, and asks the senior officer in the armies of Farque "Have you picked a spot?".
"I have" is the reply from Tamric Drubine, who then turns as his lover the witch from the Maldin Hills enters the tent.
"They're on the road and moving" says Saanea the witch when her lover Tam looks at her, with an inquiring look upon his face.
The tent is silent as Saanea spoke in common, loudly enough for most of them in the command tent to hear.
Field commander Drubine looks over at sir Percavelle Lé Dic, then at Arveem the undead trooper, followed by his lover Saanea. Then finally Shur Kee the monk.
It's the honorary member of lord Farque's personal council who is the one who nods yes to the senior officer who commands this force of the first army of Farque.
"Very well" says Tamric Drubine the field commander who looks over at his officers and aides, and tells them "Orders to break camp, and move out".
Tam briefly pauses before he continues with "We'll head to that spot over in Corlinda I've picked out" followed by "There we'll wait for them to turn up".
After another brief pause, he adds "And then we'll wipe the bastards out" . . . . . .

To War 51.

Summer. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

They're riding south across the border into the province of Corlinda.
They're one of the first of the crown's forces to make their way across the border from the province of Moleau, into Corlinda.
This particular army is made up of predominantly soldiers from various lord's lands across southern Moleau. Though there is a number of the king's men with them.
After all, no matter what. The crown is in command of all the forces that have gathered to fight the nobleman from the province of Karricaw, lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
This particularly army is all mounted, most of whom would be classed as light cavalry.
With very few, being what one would consider calling heavy horse troopers.
And those that are heavy horse troops, are all the nobility. As most of them are at least wearing half plate armour.
And their mounts all have barding of some type as they ride south into the province of Corlinda, this afternoon on what's been another warm summer day in this part of the kingdom of Melaurn.
A couple of the scout riders come back from where they've been out infront, and inform those at the front of the vanguard, about something they've discovered further along the road they're traveling on.
Those foreriders then inform the nobility, specifically the nobleborn officers from the capital city Calinar who lead this particular army.
The nobleborn officers, both from the capital, and from southern Moleau. Send out more scouts, and ride forward themselves.
Wanting to see what's been discovered further along the road that goes south into the province of Corlinda.
A province that's effectively under the leadership of the Karricawian nobleman, lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
The nobleman that the king and crown are at war with. As they think he's responsible for the spate of recent attacks upon the locals in southern Moleau.
The nobleborn officers come to a stop after riding forward for a bit, and they join some of the other scouts who have stopped further along the road.
There's silence from them, the only sound coming from their mounts, who occasionally snort, or stomp a hoof.
As along both sides of the road, are twenty two impaled figures, soldiers by the looks of it.
Impaled on longspears that have been shoved into the ground. Those on them have died horrible deaths if the looks on their faces are anything to go by.
After having the spearhead shoved up through their rectum before they and the spears were set in the ground.
Some of the spearheads have come up through the backs of some. Up through the mouths or heads of others.
No matter what, from the expressions on their faces, they've died horrible deaths.
Sometime during the day by the looks of it. As their bodies, even in the heat of the afternoon. Haven't yet started to corrupt.
One of the scouts informs the nobleborn officers that the dead are mercenaries hired by the crown.
As he had seen them a few days ago further to the east, back across the border in Moleau.
The nobleman in command orders them taken down. And dragged away out of sight. As he doesn't want their army to see them.
As he knows seeing some of their own allies treated like this will disheartened the men.
As the scouts take down the impaled mercenaries. And the nobleborn officers watch the grizzly work.
One of the officers wonder what the mercenaries were doing here in the first place.
As this area along the border, is for their army to take care of. And not anyone else.
The officer in command, a marquis from the capital city of Calinar contemplates this.
And after a few moments informs the others that not all of the movements of their allies are known to them.
And they do know that forward elements have already crossed the border into the province of Corlinda.
And no doubt, these mercenaries were part of one such element. Who the enemy have caught.
The marquis grimaces as he watches one of the impaled mercenaries, a nobleman by the looks of it, if is half plate armour is anything to go by.
Body is ripped off the longspear that's impaled him up through his body, and out his mouth.
As it's lowered by one of the scouts, who kicks the spear to knock it down.
As that impaled body is dragged away, the officer from the capital who is in command looks up into the afternoon sky.
He's not the only officer, or for that matter, scout to do so. As they fear attack from the skies more than anything else.
The army of about six hundred riders isn't too worried about what they could face on the ground.
They're large enough to deal with most of what they could come up against.
And being on horseback, if they come up against a far superior force in numbers. They can withdraw fairly rapidly.
Unlike a traditional army, which is predominantly more infantry focused.
But an attack by airship is something they're definitely worried about.
Considering they don't have any air cover themselves. As their own warships are few and far between along the Moleau, Corlinda border region.
The airships in the crown's fleet from the capital Calinar. And those of their allies from elsewhere throughout Melaurn who have answered the call to arms by the king.
Have been picked off rather effortlessly by the warships at the disposal of the Karricawian nobleman, lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
Warships from neither the province of Karricaw or Corlinda. Two provinces with little in the way of a fighting fleet to begin with.
But mercenary warships of the fleet from the lands Farque that the lord of Salmah Forest has hired.
By the time that vanguard of the army comes along, the impaled mercenaries are out of sight after being dragged away to some nearby trees.
The nobleborn officers who lead the mounted army predominantly made up of soldiers belonging to various noble's armies in southern Moleau.
Are with the foreriders as the army continues southwards now that they're across the border, and in the province of Corlinda.
They'll stop late in the night, as they'll want to cover as much ground as possible.
As from scouting reports they've had of this area of northern Corlinda. They know that there isn't much in the way of resistance they'll find for at least another day.
Though the marquis from the capital city of Calinar has told the scouts to be extra vigilant.
For whoever it was that captured those mercenaries and impaled them, could still be in the area.
And they'll have to be dealt with if the army runs across them.
"We're outnumbered" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as he watches the enemy army in the distance heading this way along the road.
"And they're all on horseback too" quietly adds the elf originally from the principality of Alínlae, who is now an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"Nothing new there" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage who is lying on the ground next to the elven spy.
The once powerful mage who hails from the city-state of Vexil, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, then adds "Them being all mounted might be a bit an advantage to us".
Next to the spellcaster, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster. The elven spy nods his head in agreement.
For the road just below where they are, narrows as it sweeps around the low hills, here in this part of northern Corlinda. Not all that far from the border with the province of Moleau.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
And the mage Reinholt, are on top of one of the low hills, watching the enemy army in the distance riding this way.
While the elven spy is watching them with the naked eye. The Vexilian mage in exile is observing them through his leather wrapped, brass, cylindrical eyepiece.
"See that group riding together near the front of the van?" quietly asks the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of the majority of his powers after going offworld when he accidentally cast a rift/void spell he went through.
Knowing exactly who the Vexilian mage in exile is referring to, the spy Tanith says "Those nobles?".
"Yeah" says the mage who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"If we can take them all out fairly quickly, that whole army will be a shambles" quietly adds the exiled Vexilian mage.
"Because of what i can see, they're made up of the armies of five maybe six nobles from across southern Moleau" continues the swordmaster Reinholt who follows that with "With a smattering of the king's men from the capital".
The officer in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque nods his head, then asks the spellcaster originally from the city-state of Vexil "Can you do it?".
The spy Tanith briefly pauses before adding "And do they have any spellcasters we have to worry about?".
"I can't tell, they're still too far away, and i can't sense that far" dryly says Mira Reinholt as he answers the elven spy's second question.
"As for if i can do it" adds the once powerful mage, who flashes a smile as he continues with "Of course i can".
Dalin nods his head, then the elven officer looks behind him, and gestures for one of the messengers in his company to come up.
The young black clad soldier crawls up and forward. And the spy Tanith gives him some orders.
After the messenger crawls down the backside of the hill, before getting up to pass on the orders to the waiting officers halfway down the low hill.
"The Mountain Dawn should be able to deal with a lot of them" quietly says the mage Reinholt with a nod of his hooded head at the enemy army on the road coming this way.
"Beldane too" adds the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
The elven spy in the gray hooded cloak next to the figure in black, nods in agreement with the Vexilian mage in exile.
Then Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy says "They'll scatter to the east side of the road" followed by "Not this side, up the hills".
Councilor Reinholt who is in agreement with that, nods as he continues to look through his leather wrapped, brass cylindrical eyepiece.
Then the once powerful mage who is in exile from his homeland of Vexil, quietly says "Your company will have to take out their scouts when they get down to the bend in the road here" followed by "They'll be completely out of sight from the rest of their army by then".
"I know" says the elven spy who previously served in one of the more prominent of the noble houses in his homeland, the principality of Alínlae.
They continue along the road that goes further south into the province of Corlinda.
Coming up on their right, to the west. Is a number of low hills. While to the east of the road, the countryside is more open.
The officer in command of the army, the marquis from the capital city of Calinar.
Who is riding with the other nobles in the army. With the foreriders infront of the vanguard.
Looks ahead along the road, and can see the scouts just up ahead. But not the ones further ahead of them, as the road sweeps around the hills to the west.
The marquis turns to a fellow nobleman, also from the capital as the two of them ride infront of the nobles from the province of Moleau.
And is just about to tell him something he's been thinking about ever since they found those impaled mercenaries a little earlier.
When they hear a shout from further ahead along the road that goes southwards.
As the marquis quickly looks that way. The ground beneath him, and the other nobleborn officers explodes upwards as a mageglobe comes to the end of it's brief existence.
As he and his mount are flung upwards in the air amongst all the dirt and debris.
The nobleman from the capital city Calinar, who commands this army in the service of the king of Melaurn.
Catches sight of a warship coming up over the hills on the west side of the road.
And as the dirt and debris shreds him and his horse apart as they go flying upwards through the air.
The final thought of the marquis before he dies. Is that he and the army he leads have just ridden into a trap.
It's what he was thinking just before the ground exploded beneath him. When he was just about to tell his fellow nobleman from the capital, that they could be riding towards a trap of some kind.
As the marquis from Calinar dies. The last thing he hears is the warship that's just come up over the hills.
Firing it's magetubes upon the army that he leads. The mounted army that's come south from the province of Moleau into the province of Corlinda.
Where in less than half a day, it's now under attack by the enemy who are fighting for lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
The nobleman from the province of Karricaw that the crown and king are at war with . . . . . .

To War 50.

Summer. Melaurn.

"We hit them here, just over the border" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy who points to exactly where on the map.
"Four combined companies, the larger ones" adds the elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, who is now an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"They didn't know what hit them" continues the spy Tanith, who then says "Some of them tried to cross back into Corlinda but half a company were waiting in ambush for them".
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, briefly pauses before he adds "Those we didn't capture, we killed".
"Capture?" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit as he looks up from the map that shows a fairly long section of the border region between the provinces of Moleau and Corlinda.
The halfling who isn't what he appears to be. And next to him, Beldane the cleric look at the elven spy who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
"We've caught him" says that spy Tanith, who follows that with "He was one of the ones trying to cross back into Corlinda".
"The pussy ran away as his men were getting wiped out" mutters Jarjin Littlefoot, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"What a prick" dryly adds the halfling who is originally from the Sultanate of Dreese, which is a nation on the far east coast of the continent, which is well over ten thousand miles from the Southlands.
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.
Is quiet for a few moments as he thinks about something, then the halfling who is the most senior in rank here in the cabin.
Looks at the fighting cleric standing beside him at the chart table, and asks "Can you go and get Mira?".
The council member follows that with "He's with the third company, checking on the enemy crossing the border here" as he points at a spot on the map.
"I know it" says Beldane the cleric referring to how he can create a gateway to the area that Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman has pointed out.
"And before you go, get in contact with the command ship if you can" says councilor Littlefoot, who then adds "Lord Farque would probably like to know".
"That's if i can" dryly murmurs the powerful cleric originally from the kingdom of Nastell.
As getting in contact with the krean strikeship that's the command ship of the Farqian fleet here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Doesn't really have all that much to do with him, and what he can do. But nearly everything to do with the krean navigators onboard their vessel. And what they're capable of doing.
Which is a hell of a lot more than i can ever do, Beldane the cleric thinks to himself, who then nods when Jarjin Littlefoot says "We better go and see him then".
And the three of them, along with the teenage messenger Lamis, who serves in the spy Tanith's company.
Exit the captain's cabin that the halfling councilor has taken over.
And they make their way up onto the deck of the fast frigate, that's put down in the middle of some woods, just on the Corlinda side of the border that it shares with it's neighbour to the north, the province of Moleau.
As the member of the church of Glaine, Beldane remains on deck, trying to get in contact with the krean strikeship, before he goes and retrieves Mira Reinholt the mage.
Jarjin Littlefoot, Dalinvardèl Tanith along with the teenage messenger Lamis.
Make their way over the starboard side, and down the cargo netting draped there, to the ground.
With the hobbit who is a former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese, muttering to himself in the halfling language about how he hates having short legs. Because he can barely climb down the cargo netting to the ground.
As the spy Tanith waits for councilor Littlefoot to make it down the side of the fast frigate, he quietly tells the teenage messenger "Have Manix bring the prisoner".
The spy who is originally from the elven principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland.
Points away to the left amongst the trees, and says "We'll be over there".
"Yes sir" says Lamis the teenage messenger, or runner as they're often referred to.
The youngster from the northwest of the lands Farqian hurries away as the grumbling Jarjin Littlefoot finally makes it onto the ground.
Dalin who knows not to offer the councilor any help, as he knows Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson will absolutely refuse it.
Points away to the left amongst the trees, and quietly says "We'll wait over there".
The halfling former air sailor grunts, then the two of them make their way into the nearby trees.
As the fast frigate is in the middle of a small clearing in the woods, just on the Corlinda side of the border it shares with the province of Moleau.
Standing amongst the trees, Dalinvardèl Tanith asks "Where's the Quick Gull?". Referring to the small, sleek, single masted vessel that Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin has been using recently.
"With Mira" replies councilor Littlefoot, who continues on with "He can get around on that, while I'll use the Mountain Dawn". As he points at the fast frigate, that's of krean design and make. Though modeled more in the style of a human designed ship.
Looking at the twin masted vessel made in the Krean Protectorate, and based in The Citadel, the capital of the lands Farque.
The elven spy nods his head, as the halfling quietly tells him "And Beldane can usually get to either one of us fairly quickly if he knows where we are".
The elven officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque then asks "Had word from his highness lately?".
Nodding his head, Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman says "We have" followed by "They're up here in the border region now, away to the west".
The elf who previously served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland, the principality of Alínlae then asks "And out east?" followed by "Tam and the others?".
"Last i heard they were in the province of Mofosild" answers the member of lord Farque's personal council who then adds in a slightly dry tone with "Dorc being with them, i guessing the crown's forces and their allies are having a bad time of it there".
Dalin nods in agreement with that. For if he was in the crown's forces fighting against lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
The thing he'd least want to do, is come up against an opposing side that has Dorc da Orc in it.
For though the ork warleader who is a general in the armies of Farque is totally insane.
He's also a tactical genius when it comes to what's happening on a battlefield.
And true, he might not necessarily know, or for that matter care, what's happening overall in the campaign.
When it comes to a battle, whether impending, or one that's in progress.
The large ork can practically see which way a battle is going. And though a lot of that is an inborn ability he has.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world has also learnt over the years from being constantly around lord Farque.
Who is the only one the spy Tanith has met, who is more of a tactical genius when it comes to battles, than the ork general.
And unlike the warleader of the ork race, the undead warlord always has the larger picture in mind.
Where the overall campaign is always more important than a single battle.
Though the lord and ruler of the lands Farque knows that a single battle can be pivotal in any war.
Such as the one where the lord of the death realm actually died four and half centuries ago.
Which led to the defeat of the Holy Norstran Empire which had invaded the Southlands at that time.
Looking away to the otherside of the clearing beyond the Mountain Dawn. Where amongst the trees there are a number of companies in the first army of Farque, along with Dalin's one.
The spy Tanith spots the veteran scout Manix walking alongside the young messenger Lamis.
Behind them walks two others in the elven spy's company. Between those two walks one of the prisoners.
Wrists bound, and his arms held by the two black clad Farqian soldiers walking to either side of him.
"Messy looking bastard isn't he?" quietly says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit as they watch the prisoner being marched across the clearing towards them.
"That he is" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who when those of his company reach them, he points to the base of the tree next to him and the halfling, who is a member of the lord Farque's personal council.
The prisoner is shoved to the ground at the base of the tree. And scrambles to the tree, sitting with his back to it as he looks at his captors.
The spy Tanith orders the two other members of his company back to the rest, amongst the trees on the otherside of the clearing.
Then tells both the veteran scout, and the young messenger to stand nearby.
The prisoner who doesn't know what's being said, as he doesn't understand the language they're speaking in.
Demands to know what's going on. Until he groans, and doubles over after Dalin kicks him in the guts, then says in the common language to him "Silence".
Switching back to the elven language, the spy who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque, quietly says "To think he was one of the better nobles in with the baron".
"He recognises us too" says councilor Littlefoot, as the prisoner was part of the negotiation team for baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
When the baron finally secured the services of the first army of Farque, in the war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
The spy Tanith nods his head in agreement with the halfling former air sailor, who hails from the far east coast of the continent.
Then the two of them, elf and hobbit fall silent as they wait. They don't have to wait for too much longer.
For soon Beldane the cleric returns via a gateway, and with the fighting cleric is his fellow spellcaster, Mira Reinholt the mage.
The two practitioners of magic make their way from the fast frigate, to where Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson and Dalinvardèl Tanith are standing amongst the trees to one side of the clearing the Farqian warship is in.
"So" says Mira Reinholt the mage as he stands beside his fellow councilor Jarjin Littlefoot, and looks down at the prisoner.
"You've got him" adds the once powerful mage who hails from the city-state of Vexil, his homeland that he's in exile from.
"Dalin's company caught him" says the halfling who is a former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese.
The elven spy then explains to the mage Reinholt how he and his company captured the prisoner, along with others.
After they ambushed them early last night, just across the border in the province of Moleau.
The once powerful mage nods his hooded head, then glances at Beldane the cleric, when Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson asks the fighting cleric "Were you able to contact the command ship?".
"I did" is the reply from the member of the church of Glaine, a god predominantly worshiped in the north of Beldane's homeland, the kingdom of Nastell.
"He can't make it" says Beldane referring to lord Farque.
"Too busy" adds the powerful cleric, who gestures at the prisoner and says "Make an example of him is what he reiterated".
The two members of lord Farque's personal council share a look.
Then the spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation. Until he was stripped of most of his power when he went offworld after accidentally casting a rift/void spell.
Looks at the prisoner sitting on the ground at the base of a tree, looking more than a little disheveled, and most likely feeling totally miserable.
"Need that bloody Dorc here" dryly says the mage who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
"He'd make an example of him for sure" adds the Vexilian mage in exile.
Nodding his head in agreement with the mage Reinholt, Jarjin Littlefoot says "He isn't though, so we'll have to think of something".
The halfling from the far east coast of the continent is silent for a few moments, then he asks his fellow council member "Is that army you've been observing crossing the border anytime soon?".
"They'll be crossing over into Corlinda sometime in the afternoon" says Mira Reinholt.
Councilor Littlefoot nods his head, and after a few moments of silence, he says "I've got an idea".
Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin then explains what they should do.
The once powerful mage nods, while both Beldane the cleric and Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy wince.
"What say you?" asks the hobbit to his fellow councilor, the Vexilian mage in exile.
"Might as well" is the reply from the highly skilled swordmaster.
"The others as well?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot. The mage Reinholt responds with a nod of his hooded head.
Looking at the spy Tanith, Jarjin aka Zubutai barbarian hordesman says to him "Well take the other prisoners too".
Dalinvardèl Tanith nods his head in understanding, then he calls over the veteran scout Manix, and the messenger Lamis.
The elven spy who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, tells them "We're bringing all the prisoners".
Then with a glance at the trouble making nobleman from the province of Corlinda, lord Milson of Mottman Deep sitting at the base of the nearby tree.
The spy Tanith adds "And see if you can scrounge up some longspears" he briefly pauses before adding "Enough for at least one for each prisoner" . . . . . .

To War 49.

Summer. The Border Region. The Provinces Of Moleau & Corlinda.

"Nothing there is there?" asks lord Milson, the lord of Mottman Deep.
"Nothing there" replies Smesall the wizard, who follows that with "A good place as any to camp".
The nobleman from the province of Corlinda nods his head, then says "I'll have Grimmard send some of the other scouts forward to check it out".
The spellcaster riding beside the lord of Mottman Deep nods his head to that.
While the Corlindian noble, who was the staunchest ally to baron Wilmot of Pirtgott in the recent war between the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda.
Looks around at the countryside their force is riding through. Still not quite believing the information they've recently learnt about the baron of Pirtgott.
Lord Milson grimaces at the thought of his good friend Wilmot is now allied to lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
The Karricawian nobleman who is the twin brother of baron Wilmot. When recently the twin brothers were enemies, on either side of the border war between the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda, which they respectively led.
The lord of Mottman Deep refrains from sighing in disappointment once again.
As he knows Smesall beside him, has probably heard that far too often over the last day or so.
Ever since they found out baron Wilmot had joined forces with lord Gormica in the war against the crown.
A war that lord Milson himself started, due to the actions of the force he leads.
The nobleman from the province of Corlinda who would freely admit, the plan he devised worked out far better, not to mention a lot quicker than what he thought it would do.
As the attacks he and his ragtag army perpetrated throughout the south of the province of Moleau.
Quickly got the attention of the crown and king. Who were quick to respond.
Sending troops and airships to the conflict zone. Now they're arriving en masse. With southern Moleau in particular, crawling with the king's forces and those of his allies.
Lord Mottman and his men have got about southern Moleau with relative ease. As they're posing as a mercenary band. Which has now been legitimately hired by the crown's forces.
As a number of mercenary companies have already been hired. And others are looking to do so.
And although they're now part of the crown army in the war against lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
Lord Milson and his men continue to rile up the countryside. Still posing as the mercenary army from the lands Farque who the lord of Salmah Forest has hired.
Though they only do so at night now. Far away from any of those in the army of the king.
For the Corlindian nobleman who leads them, wants more of the king's forces here now.
For he wants to see his province of Corlinda back in the hands of a nobleman from Corlinda.
Not as it is now, basically in the hands of lord Gormica, who was victorious in the recent conflict between Karricaw and Corlinda.
The lord of Mottman Deep winces as he thinks of what deal was offered to his friend, baron Wilmot.
So that the baron is now fighting alongside his twin brother Gormica, as they take on the crown.
"Think those rumours are true?" asks Smesall the wizard, snapping lord Milson out of his thoughts.
"Which one?" asks the nobleman whose lands are near the middle of the province of Corlinda, just west of the baroncy of Pirtgott.
"There's plenty of them" dryly adds the nobleman as he looks ahead along the road their army is on.
"The one that Gormica will give Corlinda back to the baron and the other nobility there if they're victorious against the crown" quietly says the spellcaster so that those riding nearby can't hear them.
Lord Milson winces again, as that is exactly what he was thinking when the wizard interrupted him.
The lord of Mottman Deep clears his throat, then quietly says "I don't know" he then silently adds, the gods help us if he does.
The nobleman then looks sharply at the wizard who no longer wears his orange robes, who quietly tells him "If that rumour is true, and by some miracle Gormica is able to defeat the crown, then the baron will once again lead Corlinda".
The spellcaster, though a commoner, is much respected by the nobility throughout the province of Corlinda.
Being a good friend to both lord Milson, as well as the baron of Pirtgott.
Then he quietly says to the Corlindian nobleman on the horse next to him "Which is after all what we wanted".
The lord of Mottman Deep, who as usual, looks disheveled, no matter what he does.
Refrains from wincing again, though he sighs, as he thinks about how things have worked out.
He nods when the spellcaster riding beside him quietly says "You know if the crown wins, the king will just have one of his relatives from the province of Calinar or up in Sorros, come down and take over the baroncy".
As the position of the baron of Pirtgott has always been the leader of the nobility in the province of Corlinda.
For the simple reason the city of Pirtgott is the only city in Corlinda. Or for that matter, in the province of Karricaw too. As that particular province doesn't have any cities at all.
"I know" says the lord of Mottman Deep, who gets the name of his title, due to the large, not to mention deep lake that's on his lands. It's infact the largest lake in the entire kingdom.
"We can't do anything about it now, can we?" quietly adds the Corlindian nobleman.
The wizard who in the clothing he's in, looks like a burgher more than he does a spellcaster, nods his head in agreement, then quietly says "No we can't".
Smesall briefly pauses before he quietly continues with "Though later, when the outcome of the war between the crown and lord Gormica is more obvious" he briefly pauses again, then adds "Well".
The wizard glances at the lord of Mottman Deep who he sees thinking about it.
Then the disheveled looking nobleman with the battleaxe strapped to his back, looks sharply at the wizard.
"Change sides if it looks like Gormica might win?" murmurs lord Milson.
The spellcaster just nods his head yes in reply to that.
"If the king's army ever finds out, we'll " says the nobleman from the province of Corlinda.
"I know" says Smesall the wizard as he interrupts the lord of Mottman Deep.
The Corlindian nobleman just grunts to that, then quietly says "I'll think about it".
"This other thing we're doing though" says the spellcaster who gestures around them at the countryside they're passing through.
"Do we have to continue on attacking" says the wizard Smesall.
Who this time is interrupted by lord Milson, who says "Yes" followed by "Well continue to do so, until i say otherwise".
The spellcaster from the province of Corlinda drops that conversation. And the two of them ride in silence as the afternoon draws towards an end, on what's been a warm summer day here in the border region between the provinces of Moleau and Corlinda.
The lord of Mottman Deep can understand Smesall's logic. After all, if they're ever caught by the king's men.
All hell would break loose at the discovery of them posing as those in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
When it really was lord Milson and his ragtag army he's gathered from across northern and western Corlinda.
Who are responsible for the attacks upon villages and farms throughout southern Moleau.
Which has caused the king to send his army, along with gathering his allies from throughout elsewhere in the kingdom.
To take down lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and the mercenary army from the lands Farque he's hired.
After the lord of Mottman Deep has the scout Grimmard send out some of the pathfinders to check out the possible camp site for the night.
Which Smesall observed by way of spell, when the road they're on went over a hill, in a small range of them.
Lord Milson discusses with sir Polmark of Yarmouth, and sir Gimell of Farrow Downs.
About what they'll do this night. As there's a farming community nearby that's ripe for an attack.
Smesall the wizard listens in on the conversation, but he doesn't contribute to it.
The lord of Mottman Deep knows his friend the spellcaster isn't happy that they're still doing this.
But the Corlindian nobleman who leads them sees no other option for them.
As their army, if one can call it that. Are reveling in what they've been doing.
And if truth be told, so has lord Milson of Mottman Deep. As he too has found great satisfaction in what they've been doing ever since they crossed over the border into the province of Moleau.
Attacking the villages and farming communities here in southern Moleau, and getting a reaction from the crown.
Has given lord Milson purpose after what happened in the recent war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
Where his province was briefly victorious, until baron Wilmot stopped hiring the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
And lord Gormica of Salmah Forest hired them instead. Giving him and the province of Karricaw a victory in no time at all.
Though as much as the lord of Mottman Deep has enjoyed what they've been doing here in the very south of the province of Moleau.
He knows Smesall is correct. And they cannot do this for much longer.
As more and more of the crown's forces, and those of their allies are turning up in the warzone.
And the chance of lord Milson and his makeshift army getting caught is getting higher and higher, no matter how hard they try to hide their activities.
Not to mention that the enemy, are here in the province of Moleau more and more.
With word getting to the Corlindian nobleman and his army that attacks have started occurring right across the province of Moleau.
As well in the provinces of Romial to the west, and the province of Mofosild to the east.
The lord of Mottman Deep knows this has a lot to do with the fleet from the lands Farque that accompanies it's army.
For what lord Milson saw of them, he knows they're vastly superior to any fleet here in the kingdom of Melaurn, even the king's own fleet.
As the sun starts to set in the west, they get to the spot they've picked for their camp tonight.
And one of the pathfinders who checked it out before they arrived.
Informs the scout Grimmard, who then tells lord Milson, that they're less than a mile or so from the border with their home province of Corlinda.
As the pathfinder knows this area quite well, as he grew up just across the border from it.
As the camp is set up for the night as the sun sinks below the horizon to the west, ending another warm summer day in this part of the kingdom of Melaurn.
The lord of Mottman Deep quickly goes over with sir Polmark of Yarmouth and sir Gimell of Farrow Downs, what they'll do in the middle of the night concerning a farming community to the west of here.
After speaking with his fellow noblemen, lord Milson makes his way to his tent.
Where he finds the wizard Smesall as he usually does, has had the men put up his tent next to the Corlindian nobleman's.
With a nearby cooking fire giving off light for them to see by as twilight takes effect.
The lord of Mottman Deep stands infront of his tent with the spellcaster who is his friend.
It's the nobleman who speaks up first, and quietly says "About our conversation earlier".
The wizard who looks like a shopkeeper in the clothes he's wearing, nods his head as he knows what the Corlindian nobleman is referring to.
"I've given it some thought, and you might be right" quietly adds lord Milson who follows on with "We can't continue doing this for much longer, we're bound to get caught".
"I agree my lord" says Smesall the wizard as they watch a couple of the camp followers cooking tonight's meal at the nearby fire.
"Either by the king's men, and their allies" says the lord of Mottman Deep, who continues with "And with the way things have been happening of late, even by the enemy".
Just then, as by fate. An explosion rocks the camp this evening. Away to their left, where red sparks can be seen shooting up into the night sky amongst a pile of mushrooming debris.
The lord of Mottman Deep is so stunned at this, he just stands there, not even feeling Smesall the wizard grab his right arm, and shout something at him.
The Corlindian nobleman blinks, looks at the spellcaster, who again yells at him "Run!".
The wizard shoves the nobleman away, who gathers his senses, and shouts "We're under attack!".
The lord of Mottman Deep knows that the men sir Polmark and sir Gimell will lead later tonight are already preparing for the attack on the nearby farming community.
So he's not surprised when a black clad soldier comes running between his tent, and the tent of the wizard Smesall.
What lord Milson is surprised about, is that the soldier in black cuts down the spellcaster with his sword, as Smesall turns to him to cast a spell.
As he, unlike the Corlindian nobleman, knew the black clad soldier wasn't one of their own.
As the body of the wizard drops to the ground, with his head, half off his body, as the sword stroke chopped him across the neck.
The lord of Mottman Deep doesn't even pause, he turns and runs as he sees other black clad soldiers running his way through the camp, cutting down any of the men from the province of Corlinda who get in their way.
The disheveled looking nobleman doesn't even have time to grab his battleaxe from the strap across his back, as he runs to where the horses are picketed.
Lord Milson quickly gives up on that idea, as he sees many others in his makeshift army he's gathered, doing the same thing.
Who are getting cut down as they run for their mounts. As arrows and bolts fly through the air this evening.
The lord of Mottman Deep grimaces as one of his men running beside him drops to the ground with an arrow through his throat.
Lord Milson figures the enemy archer must be a hell of a shot, or not a human to do that.
He mutters "Fucking hell" to himself, as he turns to his right, and runs into the trees around the large clearing where his army has set up camp for the night.
The nobleman from the province of Corlinda, who can hear fighting all around him.
Knows who exactly is attacking his army this evening. Of all of those who could've found them, the lord of Mottman Deep knows they're the ones who will definitely show no mercy. As they will want revenge for what he and his army have been doing here in the south of the province of Moleau.
As he runs through the woods with the sounds of fighting all around him, and the sound of another explosion rocking the night somewhere behind him.
Lord Milson, who isn't a religious man at all, prays to the gods that he's isn't caught by the soldiers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque who are attacking his army this night near the border with the province of Corlinda . . . . . .

To War 48.

Summer. The Province Of Moleau. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

He's been separated from his company for three days now.
He's not too upset about that, except for the fact he's in the middle of enemy territory in the province of Moleau.
He's ditched his black uniform and cloak. And stolen some clothing from the washing line behind a farmhouse.
He's got coin, his own. And what was is the saddlebags of the horse he took from the first of the enemy he killed.
Just outside of the town in the southwest of the province of Moleau. Where he destroyed the only airdocks in that area of the province.
The young messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
Headed north and east, away from that town as he was chased that first day.
As he knows his company was waiting for him in the woods to the south of that particular town they had targeted.
And he didn't want them to be caught up in the chase as well.
Little did he know his company would be chased for nearly an entire day. Until they were finally able to break free from the enemy. When the command ship of the Farqian fleet turned up.
Where lord Farque himself, though it was more the undead wardog Anvil, along with Mira Reinholt the mage.
Who dealt to the enemy who had been chasing the rest of his company.
The messenger, or runner as they're often referred to as.
Has evaded many of the enemy as he's headed eastwards through the province of Moleau.
In a village the first night after he evaded those of the enemy who were chasing him.
He stole some tools and equipment from the workshop of the village carpenter.
Now he's posing as an apprentice carpenter. Which he's the right age for.
One whose master has died, and he's looking for a new position where another carpenter will take him on.
He rather hopes he doesn't have to prove his skills in carpentry in anyway.
As he doesn't have any. The best he can do is hammer some nails. And cut lengths of wood with a saw. And that's about it.
So far his, he'd readily admit, rather feeble attempt of subterfuge is working.
As those enemy who have stopped him. Have let him pass by once he's explained who he is.
The young teenager from the lands Farque is just glad that those enemy he's run into over the last couple of days.
Have been from either the king's army, who are usually based in the capital city Calinar.
Or from his allies from other provinces who have joined the crown's war against lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
So far he hasn't been stopped by soldiers from any of the local lords whose lands he's gone through.
He's not heard of any of the local lords pressing the common folk into their armies. But he knows it does happen, especially in times of war.
He also suspects he hasn't seen any, is because they're the first ones to cross the border, and go down into the province of Corlinda.
He's been told by the officer in command of his company, the elven spy Dalinvardèl Tanith.
That the crown will have the local nobility here in Moleau, and the province of Mofosild. And to a lesser extent, the province of Romial.
Be the first wave of attack against the forces of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
Because they border either the province of Corlinda or Karricaw.
And in the case of Mofosild. It borders parts of both Corlinda and Karricaw's northern borders.
The messenger has stopped to get something to eat at midday, in a tavern in a sleepy town in the central region of the province of Moleau.
Talking with the tavern owner, he finds out a lot of the men folk of the village have gone off to war.
Either as soldiers for the local lord, or as camp followers. Doing the jobs that soldiers don't want to do.
"Can't help with getting yourself a job with the woodworker here" says the tavern owner, a man in his late fifties, with wispy hair that sticks up in all directions.
"He went off with the army" continues the tavern owner, he's speaking freely as it's just him and the teenager from the lands Farque in the tavern at the moment.
Even though it's the middle of the day, usually the second busiest time for any tavern. With only the end of the day, at around sunset, and just after, being busier.
"Sir Kogan didn't really want to take him along, as he's too important for our village you see" says the tavern owner who is just glad he's got a paying customer, especially one he can gossip with.
"But he got talked into taking him because that lot from the capital pressured my lord" says the tavern owner, who then adds in a mutter "Damn king's men".
He then looks quickly at the youngster sitting across the table from him, to see what his reaction at that is. Hoping he doesn't take offence.
The teenager just nods his head, and continues eating his meal.
The tavern owner breathes a sign of relief, then he gets up and says "I'll leave you to your meal". He then asks "Anything else you want?".
The youngster posing as an apprentice carpenter points at his empty mug.
The tavern owner nods, picks up the mug, and goes and refills it with ale, and brings it back.
Then leaves his only customer to finish his meal and drink. In what ordinarily would be the midday rush for his tavern.
But not now, with many of the villagers gone off with the local lord. Who has joined the crown's forces in the war against the Karricawian nobleman, lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
After he finishes his meal, and thanks the tavern owner. The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of first army of Farque rides out of town.
Heading south this time, as he's deep enough in enemy territory that it's fairly safe enough to travel back towards the border with the province of Corlinda.
The teenage runner stops for the night on a wooded hill, that overlooks some fields, and a cluster of farmhouses.
The night is warm enough that he makes a cold camp. And for a while he watches the lights of the farmhouses just under half a mile away.
Until they go out as the local farmers go to sleep. He lies upon the bedroll, that belonged to his horse's previous owner, and is soon asleep too.
He doesn't know what it is. As he knows he's not magically gifted in anyway.
But he wakes in the middle of the night when he gets a feeling that something's happening. He gets up, and quietly walks to the edge of the trees upon the hills.
He slightly frowns, and as he looks towards the cluster of farmhouses. He's sure he spots movement near them, and he's sure he hears horses in the distance.
The next thing he knows, he sees one of the farmhouses go up in flames, while the barn near it, starts burning too.
He drops down to a knee when he hears a scream come from one of the farmhouses.
Then shouting, another of the farmhouses is on fire. Then he sees, and a moment later, hears an explosion.
And the stables near that second farmhouse to catch on fire, explodes in a ball of dark red, energy is the only word to describe it.
The Farqian teenager knows that a spell was just used there, as he watches what is an attack down upon the cluster of farmhouses and the surrounding buildings.
From the fires of the burning houses and outbuildings, along with two of the moons of Volunell in the night sky.
He spots a number of the attackers. He pauses as he sees them. As from even here, from where he is up the hill. He's pretty certain they're in black. Cloaks that are black, and tabbards that are also black.
The teenage messenger frowns as he watches them. And though he knows his lord can be brutal during wartime.
The Farqian youngster knows that they wouldn't be attacking farmers here in the province of Moleau.
He nods his head, as he sees a number of the attackers are on horseback, holding the reins of other horses.
The runner knows that if they were really his fellow soldiers in the first army of Farque.
It would be companies from the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque who would do such an attack, like what's going on down in the nearby farmhouses.
Not cavalry, especially not anyone from a heavy horse troop. As he can just make out a number of mounted men wearing halfplate armour.
And he's pretty certain one is in a suit of full plate armour, and that his mount has even got barding.
The teenager from the lands Farque slowly nods his head as he realises what, or more specifically, who he's watching attack the farmhouses less than half a mile from the hill he's up.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque watches them for a little while longer.
And they eventually ride off to the south. He hurries back to his modest camp, quickly packs his stuff, and takes the reins of his mount.
He walks the horse down through the trees, once he's clear of them, he gets up into the saddle and rides south across the fields.
Giving the cluster of burning farmhouses and outbuildings a wide berth.
If there's even any survivors from the attack, there's nothing he can do for them. As he too heads southwards, going in the same direction those who attacked the farmhouses went.
The next morning finds the teenage Farqian approaching a town in southern Moleau.
He sees a couple of camps outside of it. One of which, the much larger one, consists of king's men, and allies to the crown.
While the other one, far smaller. Looks like it's a mercenary camp from what the messenger sees as he rides by it.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque enters the town.
Hoping it isn't attacked today by his lord's forces. Either army or air fleet. As this town is definitely a prime target for them.
And he's actually surprised it hasn't been attacked already. What with a camp full of the king's soldiers just outside of it.
As he goes through town, the youngster from the lands Farque. Listens to the conversations of those on the streets.
And hears more than a few times, about the raucous mercenaries who arrived early this morning, not too long after sunrise.
The teenage runner hears that there's quite a number of them in a nearby tavern.
He heads that way, to see what he can find out. As he suspects who they might actually be.
The teenager from the lands Farque sees a number of their mounts tied to the hitching posts outside of the tavern in question.
He briefly stops there, when he notices something. For though one of the riders has tried to hide it.
The youngster who has been separated from his company in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
Sees a rolled up black cloak sticking up out of a saddlebag that hasn't been completely closed.
And that one of the horses, is the one with barding he saw during the night. Obviously one that belongs to a nobleman.
A nobleman the messenger from the lands Farque suspects doesn't come from here in the province of Moleau.
But from over the border in the province of Corlinda.
And though there's a few of these so called mercenaries hanging around the front of the tavern.
The runner doesn't stop long enough for them to really notice him. He rides on, with none of them realising that he was watching them.
The teenager in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque who is posing as an apprentice carpenter.
Thought about stopping here in town. But has decided to continue onwards to the south.
As he needs to find someone in his lord's army, to tell them what he's found out.
The messenger takes the road south, he's soon off it, and is using tracks and side roads before long.
As there's scouting patrols in the king's army heading in both directions, between the town and the border with the province of Corlinda to the south.
On a hillside trail through some woods, he looks down at the nearby road, and watches a patrol of the king's men riding northwards back to the town he left this morning.
The runner in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque just shakes his head at the actions of the enemy.
As that patrol consisted of at least twenty five soldiers, or mounted. And not a single forerider out infront of the others, as they're all riding as a group, bunched up on the road.
He thinks of how their ineptitude will make them easy pickings for ambush by a much smaller force.
The messenger shakes his head again, as he knows a light cavalry patrol of the same size in his own army.
Would have at least two foreriders out infront of it. And those two would be from the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
He watches the enemy patrol ride from view as they head north. Then he continues on his way along the hillside trail through the woods.
As he continues southwards, trying to keep the nearby road in sight as best as he can.
He wonders if he'll see any of the so called mercenaries he saw back in town this morning.
As he rides throughout the day, he doesn't see them. And suspects they're only active, and are moving about only when it's nighttime.
With good reason too. As they're in territory controlled by the king's forces.
And what they're doing if they're caught, would bring the king's men down upon them like a hammer.
It's late in the afternoon, when he finds a trail that leads up into some hills after he's crossed through some farm country here in the south of the province of Moleau.
He looks up at one of the hills, then looks around him, and realises from up on top of the hill, you can have an unrestricted view of the surrounding countryside for miles in all directions.
The young teenager from the lands Farque briefly pauses as he looks up towards the hilltop in question, looking closely at it as best as he can.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque nods his head, then rides on, heading to the hills.
Later, near dusk, and he's on the hilltop he was looking closely at a little earlier.
He's on a game trail through some trees, the horse he's riding is moving at a walk, with it's ears turning this way and that.
The young runner brings the mount to a stop when it's ears quickly swivel to one side, and it snorts.
The Farqian teenager breathes slowly and listens carefully. And he waits as the light fades around him as the sun sets in the west.
He's just about to move on, when he finally hears a voice quietly say something away to his right.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque replies quietly in the same language with "Draugadrottin".
He dismounts, and a moment later a figure walks out from the trees.
The Farqian teenager slightly grins as he recognises the veteran scout from his own company, Manix, who dryly says to him in a quiet voice "So you decided to join us have you youngster".
"I got lost for a bit" replies the runner in the same language, the elven language.
They head back through the trees, and he soon sees other members of his company.
Eventually spotting the company commander, who is looking down at the nearby road as nightfalls here in the south of the province of Moleau near the border with the province of Corlinda.
"Get lost did you youngster?" quietly asks Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy.
"Yes sir" replies the messenger who is finally reunited with his company.
"Only for a bit though" adds the Farqian teenager who is the youngest in their company from the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
"Sir, this morning i found something interesting" says the runner who knows the information he's gathered is important.
"Oh?" says the elven spy who is a member of the group who travels with lord Farque.
"And what is it?" asks Dalinvardèl Tanith who is more commonly called Dalin by those who know him well.
"I've found that lot posing as us, the ones attacking the locals here in southern Moleau" replies the messenger, who then adds "That lord Milson of Mottman Deep and his men".
"You have?" says the elven officer in a tone of surprise.
The young teenager from the lands Farque nods his head yes in reply.
"Well imagine that" murmurs Dalin, who then says to the runner "Well done Lamis".
"Thank you sir" says Lamis the messenger . . . . . .

To War 47.

Summer. The Province Of Corlinda. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

Helbe the elven thief glances sideways at the twin brothers, lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
The highly talented elven magic user who is riding at the front with the nobleborn brothers.
Then looks back behind them, at the following combined army of lord Gormica and baron Wilmot.
Which just over a week and a half ago, were still fighting one another in the war between the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda.
And though there's some of the first army of Farque here with them. This particular army is predominantly made up of those from the two provinces that were at war so recently.
They're in the north of the province of Corlinda, not all that far from the border with the province of Moleau.
The province where the majority of the enemy forces are coming through to get to the province of Corlinda, then onto the province of Karricaw.
Seeing baron Wilmot of Pirtgott look up into the sky again, Helbe the elven thief tells him "Not to worry baron, we won't be bothered by enemy airships".
For though their armies are still heavily outnumbered by the crown's forces.
When it comes to air power. It's a completely different scenario.
With the Farqian fleet being far superior to any air power that the crown has.
Those of the king's fleet and their allies are already flying cautiously through, and near the provinces where the conflict is taking place.
As they've started to get picked off in numbers by the superior airships from the lands Farque.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
And is the envoy for the armies of Farque when dealing with those who have hired them.
Nods his hooded head when baron Wilmot of Pirtgott says "That's a relief".
The elven masterthief who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, then says to the nobleborn twin brothers "Though we have superiority in the skies above our heads" followed by "Wars aren't won in the skies, they're won on the ground".
Both lord Gormica, and his twin brother, baron Wilmot nod in agreement to that from the elven envoy.
The elven master assassin glances at his right shoulder, where Narladene the ground pixie has just landed.
The elven princeling listens to what the tiny winged creature has to say.
Then the elven master archer says to the twin brothers Gormica and Wilmot "If you would excuse me for a little bit".
The young elven noble who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
Rides off the road they're on, and cuts across the fallow fields of an abandoned farm.
The highly talented elven spellcaster rides to a nearby hill on the otherside of the abandoned farm.
Once he's behind it, he sees lord Farque and Mira Reinholt the mage, standing near some trees, beside a stream behind the hill.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel dismounts, and walks his horse over to the undead warlord and the once powerful mage.
Where the three of them discuss a number of things concerning the war between lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and the king of Melaurn.
"Where do you think he went?" asks baron Wilmot of Pirtgott after the elven envoy disappears from sight when he rides around a nearby hill.
"Who knows with that one" says lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, who nods his head in agreement with his twin brother Wilmot, who quietly adds "And what's he up to?".
As the elf who is the envoy between them and the first army of Farque, the lord of Salmah Forest continues to hire, is more than a little mysterious to say the least.
The nobleman from the province of Karricaw who finds himself in a war against the king and crown.
Due to no fault of his own, as he can either fight against the crown. Or see his province of Karricaw, and that of it's neighbour Corlinda, wiped out by the crown and it's allies.
Looks back at the following army predominantly made up of his own army, and that of his twin brother Wilmot's.
Two armies that recently were fighting one another in the war between the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda.
A war that started off as a dispute over the border between them that had been brewing for years.
And ended up being much more personal because of the twin brothers who led either side.
Which eventually Gormica of Salmah Forest won. By simply hiring the first army of Farque. After his twin brother Wilmot discontinued hiring them.
The nobleman from the province of Karricaw, then looks at his twin brother, who he finds looking at him.
"Still odd isn't it?" says the baron of Pirtgott, who nods at their army following them, as he adds "Our armies together like this?".
"It is" quietly says lord Gormica as the two of them ride ahead of their vassals and senior officers.
While out infront of them are the foreriders of the combined army. And further infront of them, out of sight, are the scouts, and rangers, or pathfinders as they're often called here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Who are leading the way as the combined army from the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda head towards the border between Corlinda and the province of Moleau.
Baron Wilmot, who still doesn't particularly like his twin brother. Dislikes the idea of the crown ravaging the province of Corlinda even more.
As the king has set his sights on his twin brother Gormica, who he thinks expanded the recent war beyond the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
Looks at his twin brother again, who until recently, hadn't seen him in basically two decades, who quietly says to him "You know what?".
"What?" asks the baron of Pirtgott, who is learning to keep his temper under control when he's around his brother.
"I suspect the king, or i should say the crown would of done this anyway" quietly says the Karricawian nobleman, who follows that with "Even if the lord of Mottman Deep hadn't done what he did".
"Oh?" says the nobleman who led the province of Corlinda in the recent war between it, and the neighbouring province to the east, Karricaw.
"Why do you say that?" adds the baron of Pirtgott.
"Because of what the crown has done down in Selvah Na for the last century or so" says the lord of Salmah Forest, who continues on with "Always sending an army down there whenever there's a flare up of anti crown sentiment, from not just the nobility, the common people too".
Baron Wilmot slowly nods his head as he can see the logic in his brother Gormica's thinking.
"Whenever the nobility get into a fight down there, a force from the capital goes down to clean things up" says lord Gormica, who briefly pauses before he adds "Same with that war that ravaged parts of Sorros, about fourteen years ago" followed by "Remember that?".
"Yeah i do" says baron Wilmot as he recalls the war up in the province of Sorros during the winter, fourteen years ago.
When neighbouring nobles up in Sorros, were fighting over the right to be the duke of that province at the time.
"I know it was the current king's father on the throne at the time" says the lord of Salmah Forest who follows that with "But again, he sent in his army after that war was over, and shut down the victor".
The nobleman from the province of Karricaw, briefly pauses before he adds "Now Sorros, like our provinces, and down in Selvah Na, doesn't have a duke".
The baron of Pirtgott looks sharply at his twin brother Gormica, then nods in understanding after he mutters "Well, fuck me".
For every province in the kingdom of Melaurn, which there's twelve of, is essentially a duchy.
Though four of them, Karricaw, Corlinda, Selvah Na and Sorros have no duke at this point in time.
Karricaw and Corlinda haven't for centuries, as they're the two most fractious provinces in the entire kingdom. Always at each other's throats. Even before the feud between the twin brothers Wilmot and Gormica.
While Selvah Na, which is the most rebellious of the provinces in the nation. Hasn't had a duke for at least a century now.
And the province of Sorros has joined them more recently. Being without a duke for the last fourteen years.
"I suspect that the crown would like to see Orrinda and Pandilak without dukes too" says the lord of Salmah Forest, who then adds "You know how independent those eastern lords are".
"Yeah" says the baron of Pirtgott who continues on with "The crown won't move on them, because they buffer the rest of the kingdom from the hordes out on the tundra".
"That's the only reason the eastern lords are so independent" says lord Gormica, who then adds "If not, then the crown would move on them" he follows that with "Because they're almost like a country onto themselves in Orrinda and Pandilak".
The older of the twins nods his head in agreement with his twin brother as the road they're on, bends around a stream that runs through the farms in this part of northern Corlinda, close to the border of the province of Moleau.
"You think this is a systematic change the crown has undertaken for, what centuries now?" asks Wilmot of Pirtgott.
"It sure looks like it" is the reply of the nobleman from the province of Karricaw, who follows on from that with "I know the current royal family wasn't on the throne a few centuries ago when both Karricaw and Corlinda last had dukes".
Gormica of Salmah Forest continues with "But they have been since Selvah Na last did, as well as more recently Sorros".
As the baron of Pirtgott nods at that, his twin brother adds "They're just carrying on the doctrine of the what, three or four previous royal families before them".
"I can see that" says baron Wilmot, who then adds "But to what ends?".
"Control of course" says lord Gormica, who continues with "The dukes are the most powerful nobles in the kingdom behind the king" he follows that with "It's no surprise those provinces that are duchies are the most stable in the kingdom".
The lord of Salmah Forest then says "Look at it this way" followed by "Pirtgott is the only city in both Corlinda and Karricaw, even though we have the population between us for at least another city".
Lord Gormica then adds "Ramaee down in Selvah Na is the second largest city in the kingdom, but it's hamstrung every winter because of the pack ice along the southern coast, and they have to close their port, then pay exorbitant prices to ship their goods overland or by air for a good chunk of the year".
The nobleman from the province of Karricaw then says "Now look at Sorros, which has been a basket case for a decade and a bit now, since they last had a duke".
For though the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda are often bitter rivals, where conflicts occasionally flare up.
It's nothing in comparison to the province of Sorros, where for more than a decade, much of the nobility there, have on and off in that time, been fighting each other.
"If the fighting up there in Sorros ever went beyond it's borders, the crown would move in again" says lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
"That's if the crown isn't already funding a lot of fighting up there anyway" says baron Wilmot in a dry tone of voice.
"Exactly" says the lord of Salmah Forest, who follows that with "And Sorros is where the family of the king's mother is from".
The Corlindian nobleman nods his head, as the dowager queen is still alive, and still has a lot of influence at court, and on her son the king.
"Milson has got us in a mess for sure" mutters the baron of Pirtgott, who at first rejoiced at what his staunchest ally, and fellow Corlindian nobleman, lord Milson of Mottman Deep was able to achieve.
Now, he regrets what the lord of Mottman Deep has done. As now it has put the crown's sight upon the province of Corlinda as much as it has on the province of Karricaw.
And it seems the crown and the king, what to make an example of Corlinda as much as it does as Karricaw.
And since Corlinda is closer to the province of Calinar and the capital city of the same name.
The crown is starting it's retribution with the province of Corlinda before it does with the province of Karricaw.
Behind a nearby hill, to the right of the road the armies of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest and baron Wilmot of Pirtgott are traveling on, as they head through northern Corlinda to the border with the province of Moleau.
Lord Farque is saying to Helbe the elven thief "Remember the problem with most armies is that they're too structured, and their thinking is too rigid".
The undead warlord continues on with "They don't like surprises, and fighting against them in an unconventional manner is something they're not accustomed to".
Both the elven magic user, along with Mira Reinholt the mage nod in agreement to this.
"This is how you've got to attack the enemy" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to his people.
"And how you've got to get that army you're with to fight" continues the heavily armoured deathlord who then adds "Mira will go with you to help with things".
The once powerful mage in the black hooded cloak nods his head.
"Remember, those two may lead their armies, but you command them and make the decisions" says the lord of the death realm.
"We will" says Prince Helbenthril Raendril, and his fellow spellcaster, Mira Reinholt the mage adds "We'll make sure of it".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, then says "Good".
He briefly pauses before he continues with "And keep looking for that cunt lord Milson, i want him found" Draugadrottin then adds "That fucker is not going to get away with imitating my armies".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel who knows the lord and ruler of the lands Farque wants the lord of Mottman Deep found, and killed, says "The baron Wilmot isn't going to like us for killing his closest ally".
"Fuck the baron" says the lord of the death realm, who follows on form that with "He's not the one paying us to fight in this war, his brother is".
Both practitioners of magic nod, then the undead warlord tells them "Find him, and kill him".
Lord Farque takes a few steps away from the tree they've been standing beside, and says to two of the members of his personal council "We'll keep in touch".
The heavily armoured deathlord glances up into the clear blue summer sky over northern Corlinda, then he raises his right gauntleted fist in the air, the next moment he disappears as a krean navigator teleports him back onboard the krean strikeship that's the command ship of Farqian fleet and army, fighting here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
The elven masterthief and the once powerful mage share a look, then the spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil, which he's in exile from, says "I'll meet you there".
The mage who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster disappears as he teleports up to the top of the hill they're behind, as he makes his way to the armies of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
Meanwhile his fellow councilor, Helbe the elven thief gets up into the saddle of his horse, and rides back to the army that's heading north to the border with the province of Moleau.
As the war between the crown of Melaurn, and lord Gormica that's so recently started during the middle of summer, intensifies . . . . . .

To War 46.

Summer. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

"Continue to keep an eye out for that lord Milson and his men as well" says lord Farque, who then adds "I want that fucker made an example of".
Both Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, and Beldane the cleric. Along with the captain of the Quick Gull nod in reply to that.
"That is all" says the undead warlord who then disappears. Well to be exact, the krean viewing spell of him that appeared in the captain's cabin a short time ago, disappears.
The three of them share a look, then the captain of the Quick Gull looks at the halfling and says "Shall we continue councilor?".
"Yes" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, who then adds "Let's".
Then the three of them make their way from the captain's cabin, and make their way up onto the deck, of the small, sleek, single masted airship.
The Quick Gull, is certainly the oddest airship in the entire Farqian fleet.
It's a human designed vessel. Which isn't all that odd of a thing. But what makes it odd, is that it's more than halfway around the world from where it was built.
As the small, dark, single masted airship is from the far east coast of the continent.
From the Sultanate of Dreese. Which also happens to be the nation that Jarjin Littlefoot comes from.
What's also odd about the Quick Gull, is that it's entire crew is also from the Sultanate of Dreese.
Who after coming halfway around the world, when lord Farque and the members of the group with him at the time finally came back to the Southlands at the end of winter, the start of spring.
Decided to stay on in the Southlands, to be exact, the lands Farque. Where they've become part of the Farqian fleet. As well as become Farqians.
There's a small detachment of soldiers from the first army of Farque onboard at the moment.
Predominantly scouts and rangers, from that particular division in the first army.
As their mission at the moment here in the kingdom of Melaurn. In this war between lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and the crown.
Is to escort councilor Littlefoot, and the cleric Beldane. More specifically the fighting cleric who hails from the kingdom of Nastell.
As the powerful spellcaster is looking at, and memorizing much of the countryside that they fly over.
For the simple fact Beldane, has to see, and know where he cast a gateway too.
And the more he sees of the kingdom, in particular the warzone. The more places he can go throughout the provinces in this part of the kingdom where war has broken out.
As the captain heads up onto the slightly raised aft deck of the Quick Gull.
The fighting cleric, along with the halfling who is a member of lord Farque's personal council.
Head forward along the deck of the small, sleek looking single masted airship that's originally from the far east coast of the continent.
As they stand on the bow deck, at the very point of the Quick Gull, just behind the bowsprit.
And the cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine. A god predominantly worshiped in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Looks down at the ground just a hundred and twenty feet or so below them.
Memorizing as much as he can, as the Quick Gull moves at a steady ten knots, going westwards here along the border between the provinces of Corlinda and Moleau.
The halfling who isn't really what he appears to be. He's infact 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.
Says to the powerful spellcaster originally from the kingdom of Nastell "Is it difficult?" followed by "From a height like this?".
As he suspects being down on the ground would be easier for the fighting cleric.
And the only reason they're doing it like this, is because it's quicker.
"Not really" says Beldane the cleric who can easily memorize what he sees of the countryside down below them. Because he's casting a spell to do so.
"It's about the same" continues the member of the church of Glaine, who follows that with "When i was sent out from the chapterhouse to go into western Nastell to spread the word of Glaine, i would cherish the days i could catch a ride on a passing airship to observe the land, and memorize it".
The powerful spellcaster, after a brief pause, dryly adds "It beats walking everywhere, or even going by horse as you memorize the landscape".
"Makes sense" says Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who then asks "Do you remember everywhere you've been?".
"Pretty much" says the churchman in the halfplate armour, who continues on with "I just have to recall the area i want to go to, then various places in that area pop up in my mind".
"Neat trick" quietly says the halfling who is a former air sailor from the Sultanate of Dreese, a nation on the far east coast of the continent.
"Well, it's actually a spell" says the fighting cleric who lifts up his right arm, and gestures away to starboard.
The captain of the Quick Gull gives the order to turn to starboard. The helmsman does so. And the small, dark, sleek looking single masted airship starts heading northwards as much as westwards.
"That'll help" dryly murmurs the hobbit when he learns Beldane has a spell that helps him remember every place he's been to, and every place he's seen with his own eyes.
As a few wispy clouds drift by high in the sky above them, Jarjin Littlefoot looks away in the direction they're heading.
His eyesight, along with an elven ranger onboard. Is the best by far of those on the Quick Gull.
Making him an ideal lookout. And with the end of the bow slightly raised just before the bowsprit.
Councilor Littlefoot doesn't need a box or something similar to stand on. As he looks away to the northwest, looking for any enemy activity.
It's the elven ranger, up in the crows nest with one of the crew. Who spots it in the distance, and calls down "Airship to the northwest, starboard side!".
And after the captain of the Quick Gull calls out "How far!".
And the elven ranger up the mast replies with "About seven miles!".
The halfling who is a former air sailor, who served in the air fleet of the Sultan of Dreese, until he was killed in battle.
Nods his head, as he too spots the airship in the distance, away to the northwest.
"Definitely not one of ours" says Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin, who then calls back to the captain on the aft deck "A crown ship, or one of their allies!".
After the captain of the airship originally from the far east coast of the continent nods his thanks for that information.
The hobbit who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, says to the fighting cleric beside him "It's a warship".
"Figured as much" says the powerful Nastellian spellcaster, who slightly shrugs his heavily armoured shoulders as he adds "No use worrying about it until it gets closer".
The member of the church of Glaine then goes back to looking down at the ground. Memorizing the landscape in this area of the kingdom of Melaurn.
So if needs be, he can create a gateway to here. Or alternatively, away from here.
While Jarjin Littlefoot watches the enemy airship in the distance. Knowing that the Quick Gull can't really go up against any kind of warship.
True, the small, sleek looking, single masted airship, now has two ballista onboard.
In a midships, one on the port side, and the other on the starboard side.
They're the only offensive capabilities of the small airship, that's primarily been built for speed.
And though it can no way compare to any krean airship when it comes to speed, or for that matter, maneuverability.
It's still an extremely quick moving airship for one built and designed by humans. And one with just a single mast.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman knows that it's those onboard who have to make up for the Quick Gulls shortfall when it comes to offensive capabilities.
And amongst those onboard at the moment, it's primarily Beldane who is the one most capable in protecting them all. And also taking on an enemy warship.
Which the halfling councilor sees is now more or less heading in their direction.
As the fighting cleric continues to watch the land they're passing over, and memorizing it.
The hobbit who is a former air sailor from the far east coast of the continent.
Nods his head in agreement with the captain of the Quick Gull, who calls out "It's from the king's fleet!". As he's looking through a brass, cylindrical eyepiece that he's got one of the crew to bring up from his cabin.
"It's getting closer as we're closing the distance between it and us" quietly says the member of lord Farque's personal council.
The powerful cleric originally from the kingdom of Nastell, who is the only member of the group who travels with lord Farque.
Not to actually enter the lands that bare the name of the undead warlord.
Is loathed to stop what he's doing. But he does stop watching the land going by beneath them.
And looks away to the northwest, in the direction the enemy vessel is coming from.
"Hmmmm" murmurs the fighting cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine.
While Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman glances at the mace the powerful spellcaster has tied to a loop on his belt.
The former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese. Knows the magical weapon is powerful in it's own right.
And that it no longer acts independently. Taking away Beldane whenever it thinks he's in trouble.
Then Jarjin Littlefoot looks at the practitioner of magic who says to him "Probably best if i didn't cast that much" he follows that with "I can sense a couple of spellcasters onboard of it".
The halfling who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque nods in understanding.
Then the fighting cleric calls over one of the crew, and quietly talks to him about something.
Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson's eyebrows go up when he hears what Beldane says to the crewman who hurries away.
He returns a short time later, handing the powerful spellcaster a couple of things.
One of which is the captain's brass, cylindrical eyepiece. And the other is something he's retrieved from below deck.
"Here, you take this" says the cleric in the church of Glaine to the halfling who isn't exactly what he appears to be.
"What am i going to do with it?" asks councilor Littlefoot as he takes it from the fighting cleric.
"Hopefully use it" replies Beldane, who then looks through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece, and looks at the enemy warship that's heading towards them.
"Hell" mutters the hobbit from the far east coast of the continent as he looks at the mage canister he's holding in his hands.
"By the tundra gods" adds Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra.
Then switching back to the common language, which is predominantly used onboard the Quick Gull, as the crew have only just started to learn the elven language.
The halfling who is a member of lord Farque's personal council then asks "What does it do?".
"How should i know?" replies Beldane with a shrug of his armoured shoulders as he continues to look at the enemy airship through the eyepiece.
As the powerful spellcaster signals for the captain of the Quick Gull to have the small, dark, sleek looking, single masted airship to gain in altitude.
He tells the hobbit who is a former air sailor "What does it say on the end?" followed by "There should be at least some runes there".
Councilor Littlefoot looks closely at the end of the two foot long metal canister. The end that you turn to activate the magical item.
"Hmmm something was embossed on the metal there" says Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who then adds "But it's been worn away".
"Typical" dryly murmurs the member of the church of Glaine.
Who is slightly surprised that the mage canister was actually marked. As more often than not, the mages who make them. Don't even bother marking them. To show what spell is contained in the black, rolled steel canister.
The powerful spellcaster looks back at the captain on the aft deck, and signals for him to increase speed.
Orders are given, and more sail is put on, reefed and tightened. And the Quick Gull picks up speed. Soon going in excess of twenty knots.
As he stands there holding a magical device that definitely has something rather destructive in it.
Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson says "Too small for a frigate, and it's not really a cutter". As he looks at the warship in the king's fleet.
The hobbit, who retains much of the knowledge he had when he was actually Jarjin Littlefoot the air sailor, continues with "A packet ship, rated to about eighteen i say".
As he once again looks through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece, Beldane the cleric nods in agreement with the member of lord Farque's personal council.
As the enemy vessel does indeed look like it carries about eighteen magetubes.
"Get ready to activate it, then throw it through" quietly says the powerful spellcaster originally from the kingdom of Nastell.
"Throw it through what?" mutters the hobbit from the far east coast of the continent.
"A gateway" says the member of the church of Glaine, who follows on from that with "I guess i could teleport it over, but that wouldn't be as accurate".
"What are we waiting for then?" asks councilor Littlefoot as the enemy vessel, which has definitely noticed the Quick Gull.
Has put on some more sail, and is quickly closing in on the small, dark, sleek looking, single masted airship that is originally from the Sultanate of Dreese.
"The closer i am, the less time it takes me to cast and form it" explains the fighting cleric in the halfplate armour, who then adds "And the less time it will give those two spellcasters onboard to react".
The halfling from the far east coast of the continent nods at the logic of that.
Then Beldane calls back to the captain and the helmsman on the aft deck "Hard to port on my signal!".
The captain of the Quick Gull acknowledges that with a nod of his head.
Then in the elven language, the Nastellian spellcaster says "Step back, and get ready to activate it".
The cleric in the church of Glaine then dryly adds "Make sure to throw it through after it forms".
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman wryly says "I will".
Then the practitioner of magic looks through the eyepiece again, then casts. As he does, he lifts his left arm up to signal the captain.
The Quick Gull turns hard to port. As it does, a gateway quickly forms infront of Jarjin Littlefoot and Beldane the cleric.
The halfling who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Finds himself standing at that angle where one can actually see through the gateway, which as usual is completely black in colour.
And Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin sees that the otherside of the gateway is horizontal.
It's about eight feet above the deck of the airship in the king's fleet that's approaching the Quick Gull.
As the hobbit who isn't exactly what he seems to be. Twists the end of the mage canister.
He sees a startled crew member on the enemy vessel, looking up at the gateway that's suddenly appeared just above him.
Then Jarjin Littlefoot throws the magical device through the gateway that Beldane has cast.
It falls by the startled crewman on the enemy warship. And falls down into an open hatchway, to below deck.
That's the last that councilor Littlefoot sees of it. As the fighting cleric drops his spell, and the gateway vanishes.
They look over at the airship in the king's fleet that's only half a mile away at best.
When suddenly a loud explosion rips through the front half of the packet ship in the enemy fleet.
The entire bow section of the warship away to starboard, to the northwest, is shattered apart.
And red and green flames roll back through the rest of the enemy airship.
Shooting flames up through hatchways and ladder openings, and out through portholes.
As the doomed vessel, covered in flames, starts breaking apart, and quickly drops down out of the sky towards the ground.
Beldane the cleric nods when Jarjin Littlefoot the councilor says in a slightly dry tone of voice "Well, that did it".
They're silent as the burning shell of the enemy warship plows into the ground.
Then the fighting cleric says "Right, back to what we were doing". And he goes back to looking down at the countryside below, and memorizing it.
On what's another warm day here in this part of the kingdom of Melaurn . . . . . .