To War 60.

Summer. In The North Of The Province Of Corlinda.

"Are you alright friend?" asks Shur Kee the monk as he stands over one of the goblins.
"Just dazed councilor" says Dickhead Thirty Something after he shakes his head, and realises who it is that's standing next to him.
The short, statured monk leans down and helps the large green, almost black coloured goblin to sit up.
After blinking a few times, he looks around, Thirty Something as he's called by the others in the battalion, asks "Did we win councilor?".
"We have indeed" is the reply from the physical adept who is the honorary member of the personal council to lord Farque.
Dickhead Thirty Something who like everyone else in the goblin battalion in the armies of Farque, was named by their general. The ork warleader, Dorc da Orc.
Looks around and watches the wounded and injured being carried away.
While the dead are being lined up on the ground off to one side.
While the enemy wounded are being dispatched. And their dead left lying where they fell.
The large, dark green goblin grimaces as he recalls that his friend Shitbrains The Third was killed earlier on during the battle.
He sighs, then nods his head, and says "I can".
In response to the fighting monk in the strange looking clothing, and wearing an even stranger looking conical shaped hat, asking him "Can you stand?" followed by "Best we get you out of this sun".
With the help of councilor Kee, Thirty Something gets to his feet. And though he's a little wobbly at first. He soon gets his balance.
And the short, statured monk calls over a couple more of the goblins from the battalion to help Dickhead Thirty Something to get into the shade.
The acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li, who is originally from the far east coast of the continent. The kingdom of Wah Lee to be exact.
Who has been in the Southlands since he was a young man. For more than fifteen years now.
Watches as the trio of goblins walk away, with the dazed one supported by the other two.
The physical adept slightly smiles as he sees they're keeping to their feet.
Then Shur Kee rolls his eyes when one of them trips, then all three of them go down.
The fighting monk who is the living incarnation of the Jade Warrior Bru Li. To be precise, he's a living conduit for the powers of the Jade Warrior. Who founded the philosophical order the physical adept belongs to.
Wryly smiles, and shakes his head as he watches the trio of goblins get back up, and continue on their way.
Shur Kee then turns, and continues on his way too. Continuing to see if he can help the injured and wounded in the army from the lands Farque, now that the battle is over.
Tamric Drubine walks along the treeline to the north of the battlefield.
He's followed by a number of others, including his lover, Saanea the witch.
As well as his subcommander, and a few of the officers in his command staff.
Behind them, and some of the runners. Walks the massive form of the undead heavy foot trooper, Arveem.
Who looks south across the battlefield, and rolls his eyes as he spots the ork warleader, Dorc da Orc.
The large ork is amongst the enemy dead and dying. And Arveem is pretty sure he just saw the ork weaponsmith stuff a good chunk of an arm into his mouth. And chew it down as fast as he can.
The large, seven foot tall undead human in a full suit of heavy plate armour is certain of it.
As the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world is quickly looking around him, with what can only be described as a gleeful, though guilty look upon his broad, green, brutish looking face.
Arveem just shakes his full helmed head as he follows the group led by field commander Drubine, who are walking along the treeline.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, or those who know him well.
Spots Lisell Maera the scout up ahead, who gestures him and the others forward to where she's standing in the shade next to a clump of trees.
"Where is he?" asks Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"Further back in there" replies Lisell Maera the scout, who nods her head to the right, further into the woods.
"Got another one too" adds the tall, lean, athletic and attractive looking young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, who follows that with "A nobleman from up in Olind, he led them down into Moleau, where they were met by the king's men".
The nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque nods his head.
Then he suddenly frowns as he realises what the scout Maera is implying.
"You mean he's not a nobleman?" asks Tam, who then adds "The king's man?".
"He's not" says Lisell Maera or Lis as more often than not, she's called by those who know her well.
The young field commander slightly nods, as the scout tells him "Must be one of the few, or probably even the only general of their's who isn't one".
"Lead the way" says the son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine, a castle and it's lands, that can be found in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands, whose mother was a street prostitute, and whose father. A man she never knew, nor met. Was a sailor, who plied his trade on the Great Western Ocean.
Walks into the woods, leading field commander Drubine and the others.
Tam is just glad to be out of the afternoon sun. As the day has been exceptionally warm. Especially after the battle that started early in the morning, and finished in the early afternoon.
He and the others follow Lis further into the woods. Which has black clad soldiers from the Farqian army going through it. Searching for any of the enemy who have escaped.
In a section of the woods, near the road. That's already been searched by scouts and rangers in the Farqian mercenary army.
They find the undead scout Dargarven sitting upon a fallen tree.
While nearby, between a pair of rangers. Sit two of the enemy, wrists bound behind them. Grateful to be in the shade beneath some trees. And not out in the sun, on this warm summer day, here in this area of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Field commander Drubine looks at the two prisoners. One in halfplate armour and chainmail. Whose sigil is a stylised dog of some kind. He's obviously the nobleman from the province of Olind.
While the other prisoner, the older of the two men. Who looks to be in his early forties.
Wears black chainmail, with leather shoulder pads. And has the city of Calinar outlined on his tabbard. The city sigil has a crown stitched above it.
A sure sign that this is a member of the king's own. The king of Melaurns army.
And the one who is was in overall command of the enemy army that came down from the province of Moleau, and into the province of Corlinda. As the king and crown wages war against lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
Getting up from the log he's sitting on, Dargarven the undead scout walks over to Tamric Drubine and says "How's your dwarven?". In the language of the dwarves.
"Not that great" replies the young field commander in the same language, who then asks "Why?".
"Because that general can understand elven" says the undead scout with a nod of his head at the prisoners sitting nearby.
Dargarven, who has his full helm tucked in the crook of his right arm, continues with "He's trying his best not to give it away, but his eyes do".
The undead scout looks at the others, and gives them a hand signal not to speak elven around the prisoners.
While Tam whispers to his lover Saanea, not to say anything important in elven because the prisoner in the dark armour can understand it.
"Get much out of them?" asks Tam who can understand the dwarven language well enough. It's just that he finds it difficult to speak.
"A fair bit" replies Dargarven, who is the younger brother of Arveem. Who is standing nearby, absolutely silent as he watches things.
"The rangers will tell you" says the undead scout, who then nods in the direction of his older brother, the heavy foot trooper.
And tells the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin "There's somethings Arv and i need to discuss".
Field commander Drubine nods, and the undead scout joins his brother Arveem.
Where the two of them using the mindspeech of the undead, discuss a few things.
While the nobleborn teen who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque, talks to the two rangers before he questions the prisoners.
"Why the hell do i have to?" mutters Dargarven the undead scout in the ork language after they discuss a few things via mindspeech.
His older brother Arveem the heavy foot trooper grins, then murmurs in the same language "I'll stay here and keep an eye on things".
"Fine" mutters Dargarven in the totally incomprehensible language of the orks.
Since they spoke in the ork language there was actually a hell of a lot of swearing going on there.
The undead scout walks away, and heads out of the woods. While the undead heavy foot trooper remains behind with the group with field commander Drubine.
Who at the moment is questioning the two prisoners. Both of whom Dargarven captured.
The advantage of being undead is that you can sense life all around you. Which of course includes people.
And with their only being one ork in the vicinity. Infact there's only one ork that's actually outside of the southern polar region at the moment.
Dargarven locates Dorc da Orc well before he walks out of the treeline.
The undead scout who died four and a half centuries ago. On the same day his older brother Arveem died. Which was the same day their lord died too.
After walking from the woods, heads across the battlefield, to where he can see the large figure of the ork warleader wandering around amongst the dead and dying enemy.
Dargarven who though is in leather armour, a sleeveless leather vest to be exact. Is carrying his full helm tucked in his right arm.
Nods to a couple of black clad Farqian soldiers who are going around killing any of the enemy wounded they find.
They nod in reply to the undead scout wearing the short, threadbare, and frankly tatty looking cloak as he goes by them.
They're not the only soldiers from the lands of Farque going around searching for the enemy wounded and injured, and killing them.
Dargarven spots a few goblins not far from the ork weaponsmith who is a general in the armies of Farque.
And as the undead scout gets closer to the big, burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world.
He's struck again at how damn large the ork warleader is. As Dorc da Orc who is crouching, gets up quickly and spins around. As Dargarven figures the ork general, both heard and smelled him approaching.
The undead scout sourly smiles as he sees the large ork, who stands at least seven and a half foot tall. Who weighs over seven hundred and fifty pounds.
Quickly swallow a hand that's in his mouth. A finger gets stuck in the fang like teeth of the ork general. Who covers his mouth with one of his skillet sized hands. And pretends to cough as he works the finger free with his tongue so he can swallow it.
"Hey Dorc cunt" says Dargarven the undead scout in the ork language.
"Hey Dar cunt" replies Dorc da Orc after he clears his throat.
Hey cunt being the traditional greeting between orks, and those who know their ways and language well.
The undead scout who fought alongside an army of orks in the battle in which he died.
Asks the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world "What you doing cunt?".
"Oh me just killing dead, any of the fuckers me find" says Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name.
Dargarven nods as he figures that's true enough. But the warleader of the ork race is obviously eating the dead and dying too.
The undead being gestures around them, and says to the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks "Cunt, make sure you only eat the enemy fuckers, and not any of our dead".
With a hurt look upon his broad, green feral looking face, Dorkindle says "Of fucken course" followed by "Me always fucken do that".
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks then mutters "Besides Farque gets all fucken angries with Dorc if me do that".
Dargarven rolls his eyes. As the large ork doesn't deny he's been eating the enemy dead.
Then the undead scout looks at the ork general, who is obviously overheating here in the afternoon sunshine on what's been a hot day.
"Best you get into the shade and cool down ork" says Dargarven, who speaks in the common language now.
"Fucken good idea" says Dorkindle who is sweating profusely.
The undead scout looks over at the nearby goblins. One of whom is the goblin commander, Teabagger the Goblin Cunt.
Dargarven gestures to them to head to the woods to the north of the battlefield. Then he says to the large ork "Come along general".
Dorc da Orc grunts, then starts moving, with the undead scout following behind him.
Dargarven rolls his eyes, as the ork warleader briefly stops and picks up a severed leg. Before he carries on after some of the goblins in his battalion, towards the woods north of the battlefield.
The battlefield that the Farqian mercenary army led by field commander Drubine today, was victorious on . . . . . .