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 . . . . . .