Winter.
"That one, and him, along with him" says lord Farque as he walks along the line of prisoners.
Picking a young runner, a man at arms, and an officer in the army swerving the pretender, councilman Hirrye.
"Bring them" adds the undead warlord, who then nods his full helmed head after those three are hauled out of the line.
Commander Tracklen, along with his adjunctant Morris. Wince as the black clad mercenaries standing behind the rest of the prisoners, kill them.
Either by cutting their throats, or plunging swords and shortswords into their backs.
The two local army officers share a look, then they hurry after the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and the trio of prisoners being marched away.
"Find out anything useful?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage as be looks down at the unconscious prisoner.
"A bit" replies Helbe the elven thief, who nudges the unconscious prisoner with a boot, then adds "Seems he's favoured by the so called duke of Kuradum".
The once powerful mage nods, then looks over at a small group of prisoners, sitting against the front wall of a house across the street.
Here in the town of Salmet Crossing, where a fairly short, and decisive battle took place this morning.
"Wonder if that Tracklen knows him?" muses the human spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil.
"Probably" says the elven magic user, who steps to one side as Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, and Shur Kee the monk make their way up onto the covered porch the two practitioners of magic and the unconscious prisoner are on.
"The rest are heading this way" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit.
Both the Vexilian mage in exile, and the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nod their hooded heads in response to that.
As they can both sense Saanea the witch and Beldane the cleric heading in this direction through the town.
"He tell them we're leaving?" asks the halfling, who is from the Sultanate of Dreese, which is beyond the Southlands, and lies upon the far east coast of the continent.
"Not yet that i know of" says the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
"But i assume he will" continues the highly talented elven magic user.
As some of the others in the group come into view down the street. Here in the town of Salmet Crossing.
On what's turned out to be a cold winter's day here in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
As Dorc da Orc walks out further infront of him, as they follow the trio of prisoners who are being escorted away.
Lord Farque glances back, then gestures for commander Tracklen to come forward, and walk alongside him.
The local army commander, followed by his adjunctant, hurry forward to walk beside the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
"You'll have your men ready to depart soon" says the undead warlord, who continues with "We're leaving this town behind".
"My lord?" says commander Tracklen in surprise, who then shares a look with his adjunctant Morris.
"We've taken the town with relative ease" adds the Kuradian army commander, who is in the faction loyal to the ruling council.
"I thought we'd be setting up base here" continues the local army commander, an average sized man in his early thirties.
"That's what they'd expect us to do if we took the town" says lord Farque, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"Our goal is to defeat the enemy, and that's what we're going to do" explains the lord of the death realm.
"Taking this town, and two others this morning" continues the deathlord of Farque.
Commander Tracklen isn't going to question if the attacks on the two other towns this morning here in the southeast of the city-state were successful.
Not after how easily Salmet Crossing fell to them in the attack against the pretender's forces this morning.
"Will severely put a dent in this so called duke's fucking plans" adds lord Farque, who follows that with "Not just numbers wise, but also to their army's psyche".
"All they will know is that their forces based in these three towns have been all but wiped out" says the undead warlord, who continues with "And without us taking over the towns, and basing ourselves here, they won't know where we'll attack them next".
The local army commander nods his head, as this makes sense to him now.
For though now the ruling council's forces have increased in size now that the mercenary army from the lands Farque has been hired.
The pretender's forces, still outnumber the faction that's being led by councilman Sammis.
So the more of the enemy that can be taken out, without them knowing where the next attack could come from, the better.
"Wars are sometimes determined by the fear of what could happen, than what actually happens" quietly says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Both commander Tracklen, and his adjunctant Morris, nod when they hear that.
They round a corner, and the black clad Farqian soldiers escorting the trio of prisoners.
Have the three sit down with the six other prisoners, who are sitting down on the ground, with their backs to the front of one of the houses on the street.
While lord Farque, along with the pair of local army officers in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, as well as the large ork after Draugadrottin says something to him in orkish.
Make their way across the street to a house with a covered porch. Where a group are waiting for them.
"Pierce" says commander Tracklen as he looks at who it is that's lying there, unconscious on the front porch of the house.
"Know him?" asks Helbe the elven thief, the local army commander nods yes, then says "We came up through the ranks together".
"Seems he's in the good books of the pretender" says the highly talented elven magic user.
"No surprise there" dryly says commander Tracklen, who then mutters "He was always brown nosing councilman Hirrye".
Next to the local army commander, his adjunctant, Morris. Nods his head in agreement with him.
Lord Farque nods his full helmed head away to one side. And he and Helbe the elven thief walk away in that direction.
The two stand at the corner of the house, where they discuss something in the royal elven language. A language that only the two of them speak.
"We letting them go?" quietly asks the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
"Yes" replies the undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
"Once word spreads through their forces about what's happened this morning" quietly says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "Fear and doubt will start to appear amongst them".
The elven master assassin, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, nods his hooded head.
Then Draugadrottin quietly asks him "Find out anything useful from that enemy commander?".
Looking at the unconscious figure lying on the front porch of the house, the elven princeling from Laerel says "As a matter of fact i did".
The highly talented elven magic user then goes onto explain to the large, heavily armoured deathlord what he's found out.
Meanwhile, amongst the others as they wait for lord Farque and Helbe the elven thief to finish their conversation.
"Any problems?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage as he looks at the others in the group.
"Nothing really" says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who briefly pauses before continuing in a slightly dry tone with "Well, apart from Percy and Dorc running ahead of everyone else".
"Nothing new about that" dryly says the once powerful mage as he looks over to where Dorc da Orc is squatting, watching the prisoners across the street.
Then over to where sir Percavelle Lé Dic is standing at one the end of the porch.
With a look of disgust upon the face of the large, heavily armoured knight who is watching his bitter rival, the ork warleader.
"Anything else?" asks the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
The others shake their heads no, then the mage Reinholt says to commander Tracklen "I think they want a word with you".
As lord Farque and Helbe the elven thief are looking this way, and the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head at the local army commander.
Once commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris make their way off the porch.
And walk over to where the lord and ruler of the lands Farque is standing with the elven masterthief.
Councilor Reinholt quietly says in the elven language "How did that lot do this morning?".
"They were fine" says Tamric Drubine the field commander in the same language.
"I'd say adequate" adds Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit in the elven language.
The halfling who isn't what he appears to be, then adds "They didn't take too many casualties, so that's a good thing".
"I agree" says Tovis the war engineer, who follows that with "They did what needed to be done".
Standing next to the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic, the newest member of the group, Zam.
Who doesn't fully understand what's been talked about as he's only started learning the elven language a couple of months ago.
Does get the gist of the conversation. And he nods his head in agreement with what the Druvician war engineer just said.
Then the halfling, 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 the hobbit from the Sultanate of Dreese.
Quietly says in the elven language to the others "They're coming back".
As lord Farque, Helbe the elven thief, along with commander Tracklen, and the adjunctant Morris.
Make their way back to the covered porch that runs along the front of the house.
After a signal from the undead warlord, the group make their way off the porch, leaving the unconscious prisoner lying there.
The two local army officers, Tracklen and Morris make their way back onto the porch.
And a few moments later, after a spell from Helbe the elven thief, the unconscious prisoner starts to wake up.
After groaning, and trying to lift his head up before opening his eyes, the prisoner opens them, and after blinking in surprise as he sees who it is that's standing over him, looking down at him, he says in slightly sour tone of voice "Tracklen".
"Pierce" says commander Tracklen as he looks down at his former colleague in the Kuradian army.
"Get up" says the local army commander in the faction led by councilman Sammis.
With the help of the adjunctant Morris, the captured enemy officer is stood up.
Before commander Pierce can say anything, commander Tracklen tells him "Inform the pretender what's happened here this morning".
He continues on with "You and that lot across the street are being set free".
Followed by "You'll head out of town, and go east to that village about six miles away that's under your control".
Commander Pierce looks over at the nine men in his army, who are being guarded by mercenaries by the looks of things.
Though they're more like soldiers in appearance, as they're all in black, with black armour, and a black tabbard, that seems to have some kind of emblem or symbol on the front of it.
"The rest of my men?" asks commander Pierce as he figures there's been a battle here in Salmet Crossing, and that his forces were defeated.
"They're dead" replies commander Tracklen.
"Or are about to be" adds adjunctant Morris.
The local army commander in the faction loyal to councilman Hirrye. Glares at Morris, then at Tracklen. As he realises that his force of over a thousand soldiers and mercenaries that he had based here at Salmet Crossing. Have been all but wiped out.
"Your lucky to be alive Pierce" says commander Tracklen, who follows that with "So show a bit of appreciation".
Commander Pierce sourly smiles at his former colleagues as he wonders how he's going to explain this loss to councilman Hirrye.
The self styled duke of Kuradum, who doesn't take failure too kindly.
"Take them, and get going" says the local army commander in the faction still loyal to the ruling council of the city-state.
"You'll have safe passage" adds commander Tracklen.
A short while later, and the prisoners led by commander Pierce, are making their way out of town, heading east.
As they leave Salmet Crossing, they see the destruction that's been wrought on this cold winter's day in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
And how that the forces of councilman Hirrye, the so called duke of Kuradum.
Have suffered their first major defeat in what's essentially a civil war in the city-state.
Meanwhile in the town of Salmet Crossing, before he and his adjunctant Morris head off to organise their men. Commander Tracklen asks "Now what?".
"We'll attack them somewhere else" replies lord Farque, who continues with "Things have just started really" followed by "This so called duke is in for a bad time this winter" . . . . . .
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