To War 115.

Summer. Northeastern Corlinda.

It's only the second time since the battle for castle Measum began.
That the enemy, who are allies to the king and crown of Melaurn. Predominantly from the provinces of Mofosild, Moleau and Olind.
That they've sent men around to attack the south side of the large castle, that's the ancestral home of the local nobleman, lord Measum.
They don't send a lot of them around there this morning.
But enough, that Dorc da Orc has to send some of the defenders on the southern half of the west wall.
Over to the south wall parapet, to help the small number who are defending the south side of castle Measum.
In the early morning sunshine, the large ork scowls in disgust as he sends five more of the goblins in the battalion, to help those on the south wall of the largest castle in all of southern Melaurn.
The ork warleader is already stretched defending this half of the west wall of castle Measum.
He doesn't want to send anymore soldiers from the long west wall, to the south wall anytime soon.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts as a Farqian ranger walks by and nods to him, after he shoots off three arrows in quick succession.
All hitting an important target amongst the enemy attacking the southern half of the west wall of castle Measum.
An enemy sergeant at arms from the province of Moleau on the otherside of the moat.
Who was organizing men onto rafts, has fallen into the water with an arrow through his neck.
A young subaltern from the province of Olind, on one of the rafts in the water. Is knocked off the raft, with an arrow in his side.
While further back, about fifty yards from the bank, a nobleman from the province of Olind.
Who is watching the attack upon the west side of the large castle, that's the ancestral home of lord Measum's family.
Who thought he was out of range of any of the archers upon the top of the wall.
Drops to the ground howling in pain, with a yard long arrow in his belly, that's sticking out of his lower back.
Up on the parapet of the west wall of castle Measum, Dorc da Orc with a chuckle, says "Dumb fucken cunt".
As he watches the enemy nobleman in the distance howling in pain, as he writhes about on the ground with the last arrow shot from the Farqian ranger's longbow, in his gut.
The ork general in the armies of Farque shakes his head, and mutters "Shoulda had better fucken armour ya cunt".
As the howling nobleman about fifty yards back from the moat, is only wearing leather armour.
Some of the enemy nearby, rush to the downed nobleman, and pick him up as he continues to scream in pain.
They hurry away, heading back along the road that goes westwards, towards where the enemy have their camp.
As they do, the ork weaponsmith suddenly grins as he hears the nearest trebuchet behind the wall, launch a load at the enemy forces.
Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name. Which no one calls him by, with the exception of lord Farque, who will occasionally call the large ork by his proper name.
Doesn't even turn to follow the path of whatever it is the nearby trebuchet has just launched.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, grin suddenly gets broader as he sees it come into view.
The warleader of the ork race bursts out laughing as he sees rocks from inside some netting that's just split apart in midair.
Rain down upon the enemy carrying the wounded nobleman along the road back to their camp.
Not a single one of them is left standing as they're pelted by the shot from the large war machine, manned by some of the engineering corp in the first army of Farque.
And though most of them are instantly killed by the hail of heavy rocks that's just hit them.
A few of them survive, lying there injured, moaning or screaming in pain.
One of whom is the enemy nobleman from the province of Olind. Who miraculously didn't get hit by a single rock from the load, launched by one of the two trebuchets inside castle Measum.
Though the wounded nobleman, is still howling in pain, louder than any of the others in the middle of the road.
For when he was dropped, the arrow through his gut, went further out his back, and broke part of it off.
The ork general laughs even louder as he sees that enemy nobleman is in even more pain.
And those who rushed to help him, are either dead, or dying themselves. Which the large ork finds absolutely hilarious.
Until Dorkindle's head snaps back, and he winces, and mutters "Fuck".
While he rubs his forehead, where he's just been shot by an enemy crossbow bolt, that bounced off his thick skull.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, steps forward, and pounds his right first down upon the head of an enemy soldier who has just ducked back down behind the top of the wall.
That soldier from the province of Mofosild, drops his crossbow as the top of his head is caved in.
Just before he falls off the top of the scaling ladder that's up against this section of the southern half of the west wall of the largest castle in all of southern Melaurn.
"That'll fucken learn ya" mutters the large ork, who quickly rubs his sore forehead again.
Before he leans over the top of the wall, grabs the top of the scaling ladder.
And hauls it up and over the top of the wall. While one of the enemy, who was climbing it, clings onto it as tight as he can.
He doesn't cling onto it tight enough, and he falls from it even before the ork general gets it clear of the top of the wall.
That enemy soldier falls to the water, from a a height twenty feet above the top of the thirty foot tall west wall of castle Measum.
Dorc da Orc biffs the scaling ladder down to the ground on this side of the wall.
Then looking around, the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks says "Hey cunt, send some of our cunts that way".
As he waves a big, meaty, skillet sized hand northwards along the west wall parapet.
"Yes boss, er general" replies Teabagger the Goblin Cunt who then tells a couple of the battalion, as well as a pair of local soldiers.
To head northwards along the top of the west wall parapet, to where there's some heavy fighting towards where the gates are located.
The ork general in the armies of Farque looks the other way. And he sourly smiles, as predictably as ever, his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic isn't all that far from where he is.
The former paladin has just kicked an enemy soldier off the top of the wall.
Sending the man falling to the ground behind the west wall of the large castle that's the ancestral home of the local nobleman, lord Measum.
The ork weaponsmith shakes his head in disgust that his bitter rival hasn't got himself killed yet.
Dorkindle was hoping he would of during the night, but no such luck as as the nobleman originally from the kingdom of Druvic, avoided death like Dorc avoids baths.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts as Shur Kee the monk walks over as there's a lull in the fighting along this section of the wall after the large ork hauled up that scaling ladder.
"They seem unlikely to stop friend Dorc" says Shur Kee the monk, who then adds "They have not stopped since dawn yesterday".
Though the enemy hasn't attacked with all of their army all of the time since dawn yesterday.
They have been attacking the west side of castle Measum continually since then.
And now this morning, it's pretty much all of them, who are left. Are attacking this side of the large castle, with the exception of those around on the south side of the largest castle in all of southern Melaurn.
"The cunts got fucken nothin' better to do" says the ork warleader in his deep, rumbling, growling voice.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. Who he killed, which was only fair. As his mother was doing her best to kill him at the time.
Says to the short, statured monk beside him "They gonna attacks us now until they fucken get in, or they all fucken die".
The ork who was named warleader of his race by lord Farque some years ago, continues with "Dorc can fucken tell".
The ork general in the armies of Farque has been in so many battles and wars, that he can predict, fairly accurately, how an army will act.
And from what he's seen, and what he's seeing now from the enemy attacking castle Measum.
Is that they're going to keep on attacking the large castle no matter what.
Dorkindle figures they've gone beyond the point to fall completely back, and wait for reinforcements from elsewhere.
They're now so desperate, that they will either breach the defenses of castle Measum. Or they'll basically be wiped out in the attempt to do so.
The ork weaponsmith has seen it before, and he's sure he's going to see it again, with these allies to the crown and king of Melaurn.
The ork warleader bends down, picks up a fairly large rock from what's left of a pile.
Steps to the side of a merlon, then throws the rock away to the right, off the top of the wall.
The large rock lands amongst a group of the enemy crossing the moat on one of the makeshift rafts they've built.
The heavy rock kills one of them instantly, breaks the bones of two other enemy soldiers on the raft.
Before it smashes through the raft, forcing the others to jump off it as it starts to sink.
"Get wet ya fucken fuckhead cunts" mutters Dorkindle, who thinks getting wet is worse than dying.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, who was sent into exile from his homeland, The Ork Range.
Due to killing his mother, the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe.
He was to be killed, but some quick thinking by a couple of his friends. Saw him exiled, instead of killed.
Steps back from the side of the merlon, and says to the enigmatic monk "They not gonna fucken stop" as he reiterates his point.
The physical adept who isn't from anywhere in the Southlands, but is actually from the far east coast of the continent. The coastal kingdom of Wah Lee to be exact.
Nods his head in agreement with the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world.
The acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li, who has spent much of the fighting that began yesterday morning at dawn.
Keeping an eye on Dorc da Orc, and the large ork's bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
As the two of them on a couple of occasions since dawn yesterday, have come close to blows.
Looks at the remaining enemy forces attacking this side of castle Measum. While a wounded local soldier who is carried by a couple of the townfolk who live in the large castle.
Go by him and the ork general towards the nearest set of steps.
The living incarnation of the Jade Warrior Bru Li, or to be precise, the conduit of power of the long dead founder of the philosophical order that Shur Kee belongs to.
Sees that though the enemy force, that's predominantly from the provinces of Mofosild, Moleau and Olind have been decimated since the battle began earlier in the week.
They still heavily outnumber those who are defending the large castle that's the ancestral home of the local nobleman, lord Measum.
As another newly built makeshift raft is put into the water, and some of the enemy get onto it.
While others nearby wade into the water, and start crossing the moat that runs alongside the west wall of castle Measum, and goes around to the south side of the largest castle in all of southern Melaurn.
Shur Kee who is the honorary member of the personal council to lord Farque, asks the ork warleader "Do you think we can hold them out friend Dorc?".
The ork general who has the natural ability to see the patterns of a battle, grunts before he answers with "Fucken maybe".
Though the enemy has been decimated since yesterday morning, when Dorkindle goaded them into attacking this side of the large castle again.
He knows the defenders of the largest castle in all of southern Melaurn have steadily been losing numbers through injury and death.
"Fucken maybe" repeats Dorc da Orc as another scaling ladder bangs up against this section of the west wall.
As the battle for castle Measum continues, on what's a sunny, though mild, temperature wise, summer's day, here in the northeast of the province of Corlinda, in southern Melaurn . . . . . .