The Thick Of It 19.

Winter.

Dorc da Orc looks away to his right and scowls when he spots his bitter rival sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
The large, heavily armoured knight, like the ork warleader. Is flat on the ground, behind cover. Looking through the trees up ahead.
Well, in the case of the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic. He's peering ahead, as he can't exactly see much in the darkness before dawn.
As he lies there on the snow covered ground, feeling slightly comfortable for once.
The large ork can't help but shake his head in disgust at always being paired lately with the former earl of Lé Dic.
The reason why stands about thirty yards infront of the two of them.
Lord Farque, who the ork weaponsmith can clearly see. And who sir Percavelle Lé Dic can barely glimpse in the predawn darkness.
The group left the city of Kuradum a little earlier. Now they're in the northeast of the city-state.
Having come here by way of a gateway cast by Beldane the cleric.
They've met up with a contingent from the third army of Farque. Predominantly scouts and rangers, and a number of light infantry.
Who are fighting behind enemy lines. Here in what's essentially a civil war in the city-state of Kuradum.
A civil war between the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye. Who is hell bent on changing the way in which the city-state is ruled.
And the ruling council of Kuradum, led by councilman Sammis. Who are determined to keep the status quo.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name. Is just about to reach out to grab a nearby branch, that's broken off from the tree to his left.
And biff it at his bitter rival, who is a member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che.
When he smells someone approaching from up ahead. The large ork softly grunts as he recognises who it is.
Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy walks back to where lord Farque is waiting.
The spy from the elven principality of Alínlae stops next to the tree the undead warlord is standing beside.
"They're there alright" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who continues with "Pretty much where you said they would be".
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, then says "He is".
In reply to lord Farque saying in a slightly dry tone of voice "He's having a look around isn't he?" followed by "Amongst them?".
Dorc da Orc sourly smiles as up ahead, lord Farque and Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy are speaking in the elven language. Which obviously he doesn't understand.
The same for sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who like Dorkindle. Has absolutely no idea what the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae are discussing.
The large ork who is starting to get bored, reaches out to take a hold of the fallen tree branch.
When he grunts, and pulls his hand back after lord Farque, without looking back, quietly says in the common language "Don't do that Dorc".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group doesn't know what the ork warleader was about to do.
But whatever it was, he can't help but grin at the large ork being reprimanded by the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Then both the ork who is a general in the armies of Farque, and the knight who is a former paladin.
Both grunt when they hear the undead warlord quietly tell them "You two get up here".
The large ork who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
And the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's lands in the southeast of the kingdom of Druvic.
Both grunt as they get up off the snowy ground, then they hurry forward to where the large, heavily armoured deathlord and the elven spy are standing.
The bitter rivals, both of whom want to say something, remain silent after the lord of the death realm glances at the two of them and says "Quiet".
Dorc and Percy are both impatient as they stand there, while the lord of the lands Farque and the spy Tanith converse in elven for a little bit longer, in the darkness before dawn.
Then the undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, quietly says in the common language to the bitter rivals "Let's go". The deathlord of Farque then adds "Keep quiet".
Then with Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more often than not, called by those who know him well.
Leading the way, they move off. Heading roughly northwards through the trees, here in the northeast of the city-state of Kuradum.
For the nobleborn knight who is originally from the kingdom of Druvic.
He doesn't exactly know what they're doing, or where they're going. Apart from that the enemy are nearby.
Not so Dorkindle, who might not of been told what they're doing, and where they're going.
He's still got the advantage of his eyesight, hearing, and most importantly his sense of smell.
And even with his limited capacity of thought. After all, he is an ork. And even though he's a genius of his race.
That's not saying much considering the entire race is mentally unstable, and absolutely psychotic.
He can deduce that they're heading north, and that the rest of the group are that way.
As are the contingent of Farqian soldiers, about a hundred and fifty of them. Who are spread out across a hundred yards or so.
While beyond them, the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
Can easily smell the presence of the enemy. Who are in camp. And easily outnumber the Farqian forces.
As it gets closer and closer to dawn, the spy Tanith leads them to where some of the group are waiting.
They stop next to Tamric Drubine the field commander, Saanea the witch. Along with Tovis the war engineer, and the newest member of the group. The ex mercenary Zam, who is from here in the city-state of Kuradum.
"What do you see Dorc?" quietly asks lord Farque who gestures away to the north of them.
And though the ork warleader wants to automatically reply with "Cunts". He knows the lord and ruler of the lands Farque is referring to something else.
Looking out from the woods they're at the northern edge of, the large ork studies the enemy camp that's only fifty yards away, if that.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world. Is definitely mentally unstable and a raving psychopath.
But for all that, he can size up a battle, or potential one such as now, in an instant.
And even more impressive, during a battle he can clearly see the ebb and flow of a battle. How potential things may or may not turn out.
And though this skill he's always had. It's been expanded and fine tuned in the more than two decades he's been around the undead warlord, who has taught him.
Dorkindle immediately sees the enemy should of camped in the woods. Or at the least at the edge of it.
But he figures it must of been a mild day yesterday. And never suspected that their would be a heavy snowstorm during the night.
For though back amongst the trees, there's snow covering the ground.
Out in the open, to the north of the woods, the snow is thick on the ground.
And the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. Who he killed in an altercation between the two of them. Which was only fair, as she was trying to kill him at the time.
Can see a fair few number of tents in the camp have collapsed, or partially collapsed.
And though some have tried to put them back up during the night, most haven't.
The ork weaponsmith, who sometimes struggles to count to ten. And when he usually does count something, he gets it wrong.
Not so during battle, or just before a potential one in this case. And at a glance he can easily estimate, quite accurately at times, how many the enemy are.
Even now, with most of the enemy out of sight, in their partiality collapsed and collapsed tents. He knows how many there are in the camp.
In mere moments the ork warleader works out what he thinks. And in his native language, the general in the armies of Farque explains to the large, heavily armoured deathlord what they should do.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic sourly smiles as his bitter rival the ork weaponsmith starts speaking to lord Farque in the unintelligible language of the orks.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, where he is the former earl of Lé Dic. His family's lands that are now in the hands of his young niece.
Figures the two of them are chatting about the enemy camp he can just make out on the snow covered ground less than fifty yards away from the edge of the woods.
"Of course you would fucking suggest that cunt" dryly says lord Farque in the ork language, who then adds "Because you're a big fucking lazy cunt at times".
Dorkindle goes to protest that, even though it's true, and it is the reason why he suggested it.
But he stays quiet when the undead warlord raises a gauntleted hand, and says "None of your fucking shit excuses".
The undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, then adds "It's basically good enough, we'll fucking try it".
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world briefly grins, then he scowls when the lord of the death realm tells him "Though with one fucking change".
Draugadrottin continues with "We've got the fucking advantage of spellcaster cunts with us, fucking use them".
The ork warleader who is of the opinion that using magic is cheating. Stands there with a sour look upon his broad, green, brutish looking face as the lord and ruler of the lands Farque tells him what the spellcasters will do.
The large ork grunts, then he says "Why the fuck should i?".
After the deathlord of Farque says to him "Now tell Tam the fucking plan".
Des'tier stares at the warleader of the ork race for a moment or two, before he says "Because he's the field commander" followed by "And you're a general in my armies" he briefly pauses then adds "So fucking act like one".
That gives Dorc da Orc pause. He doesn't know why. It's not the usual reprimand that lord Farque gives him.
Those ones have a definite undertone of violence to them that the ork weaponsmith definitely understands.
This is something else. Something he's not accustomed to. And frankly something he doesn't particularly like.
Feeling disappointment in himself for one of the few times in his life. A feeling he doesn't understand, or know how to describe.
The ork general turns to Tamric Drubine and starts explaining to him the plan of attack upon the enemy camp.
The lord Farque rolls his eyes, then quietly says in orkish "In fucking common Dorc".
Dorkindle not realising he was still speaking in his native tongue. Grunts, then he switches to the common language, and he tells the young field commander in the armies of Farque the plan of attack . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 18.

Winter.

Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy is dozing against the base of a tree. When one of the scouts, who is also a spy under his command.
Walks up, crouches down beside him and quietly says in the elven language "Message in".
The human spy in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque adds "We've got a link".
And he hands the spy Tanith a small piece of parchment. Then he gets up and walks away after the elven spy nods his hooded head.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. Opens the folded piece of parchment, then reads it.
The elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae gets up, and makes his way further amongst the trees.
"Here, and here" quietly says lord Farque as he points at the map that Tamric Drubine the field commander is holding open.
"Have some more of the locals go there?" asks Helbe the elven thief, who along with Mira Reinholt the mage, and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit.
Are standing with the undead warlord and the young field commander.
Here in a grove of trees, to the east of the city of Kuradum. Infact not that far from it, less than half a dozen miles from the city.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord turns and quietly says "What is it?".
As Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy approaches through the trees of the grove.
"We've got a lead" is the quiet reply of the elven spy who is a battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"Missive just in from the city" adds the elf in the grey hooded cloak who hands the small folded piece of parchment to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The undead warlord unfolds it and reads it, then he hands the message to Helbe the elven thief, who reads it too.
"Think we can trace it back?" asks the undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"Maybe" says Dalinvardèl Tanith, his fellow elf, Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head in agreement with the elven spy.
"Might be best if we got the information straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak" says Helbe the elven thief.
"Bring him in?" asks the lord of the death realm, whose name in elven, Des'tier. Means, The Destroyer.
"Might spook them" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"Might be best if i just read his mind" continues the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules Laerel.
Nodding his full helmed head, lord Farque says "We'll do that then".
Draugadrottin continues with "We'll head back to the city".
"And this my lord?" asks Tamric Drubine the field commander who gestures at the map he's holding.
"Have commander Tracklen send two hundred and fifty of his men to the frontlines" says the large, heavily armoured deathlord who follows that with "To the southern section, to help with the positions of their's we've taken over".
The nobleborn young man from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque nods his head that he will.
Then they make their way to where the rest of the group are waiting here in grove of trees, on one of the farms to the east of the city of Kuradum.
They return to the city fairly quickly through a gateway that Beldane the cleric casts to the inn they're staying at.
From there, the entire group heads out onto the city streets. On what's a clear and sunny, though cold winter's day here in the city of Kuradum.
Though the group has split up into pairs, and the odd trio. They all head in the same direction.
Out front, is Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy and Helbe the elven thief. The two elves are invisible thanks to a blur spell cast by the highly talented elven magic user who hails from the island principality of Laerel.
They're on a rooftop, and the spy from the elven principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more prominent noble households of his homeland.
Points away to the west of where they are, near the middle of the city.
"There" quietly says the elf who is a battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"I see it" says Helbe the elven thief, who then shifts himself and the spy Tanith away.
They're on another rooftop, here in the west of the city of Kuradum.
The elven spy in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, crouches down.
While the elven masterthief who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel remains standing.
As the two of them look across a lane, into the building to their right.
And though it's a cold day today, a couple of windows on the second floor of the building across the lane. Are wide open, and by the looks of it, no one has closed the shutters for quite sometime.
"What are they watching?" murmurs Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who looks back in the direction the two of them have come from, then he nods his hooded head in understanding.
"Troop movement" quietly adds the battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Nodding his own hooded head in agreement, Helbe the elven thief quietly says "None of them know".
As there's two men standing at one of the windows, and another at the next window along, in another of the rooms on the second floor across the lane.
"They're further in the building" quietly says the the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
Who then looks around in the surrounding area in this part of the city.
Then he nods and points away to their left, and quietly tells his fellow elf "There" followed by "That Nahor's home".
The elven master assassin who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque then adds "They've got a perfect view to his house too".
"Well, well, well" murmurs the spy Tanith, who then nods his grey hooded head as the elven princeling quietly says "I'll see what's happening in there".
The blurred and shielded elven magic user disappears even from Dalin's sight, as he makes his way into the two storey building across the lane.
While the elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he previously served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland. Continues to watch those at the open windows in the very same building.
The elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
Makes his way from room to room on the second floor of the building. Reading the minds of everyone in here.
While Narladene the ground pixie has flown through the floor, and made her way downstairs.
The elven master archer gains some useful tidbits of information. But not anything he came here to find out.
Then as the highly talented elven magic user walks down the hallway on the second floor.
Narladene the ground pixie reappears upon his right shoulder, and quietly whispers to him "He's downstairs".
The naturally magical creature who hails from the Sunreach Mountains points down to the right, and adds in a whisper "In that room there".
The blurred and shielded elven magic user nods his white hooded head, then he makes his way downstairs, and into the room that Narladene has indicated.
The elven master assassin finds a trio of men having a conversation, and he reads all three of their minds.
Especially the mind of who was described in the missive they received earlier, in a grove to the east of the city of Kuradum.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel after finding out everything he needs. He departs, and makes his way across the lane, and up onto the roof opposite. Where the blurred and shielded spy Tanith waits.
"Let's go" murmurs Helbe the elven thief when he appears beside Dalin.
"Found the trail back" quietly adds the elven master assassin, who continues with "And that latest message has already been delivered to that Nahor and others working for Hirrye in the city".
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae nods, then the highly talented elven spellcaster shifts the two of them away.
They find lord Farque at the edge of a nearby city square. With the undead warlord is Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord likes to keep the two most unpredictable members of the group close.
Then after Helbe the elven thief calls the other practitioners of magic here by way of a spell.
The rest of the group starts to show up. Eventually with Mira Reinholt the mage, along with Tovis the war engineer, and Zam the ex mercenary the last to show up.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque leads the group into one of the lanes off the square, here just to the west of the city center.
"The rider came in yesterday afternoon" quietly explains Helbe the elven thief to Draugadrottin, and the other members of the personal council to lord Farque.
"He came from one of the villages about twenty miles to the west of the city" continues the elven masterthief, who follows that with "Before that he came through a rift from the west of the city-state".
The highly talented elven spellcaster then says "He's one of Hirrye's personal guards".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel then explains how the so called duke of Kuradum.
Was up in the freelands to the north of the city-state yesterday morning. And that he quickly returned by way of a rift to western Kuradum.
Cast by a powerful sorceress by the name of Losmena. Who is fighting for his cause.
"Why did he come back?" asks the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"He's worried about the recent losses his forces have suffered" replies prince Helbenthril Raendril, who continues with "Especially along their frontlines".
The elven master assassin explains a number of other things, then he quietly says "That assistant to councilman Kolmar, Nahor knows everything".
The elven master archer continues with "Some others here in the city know bits and pieces of what's happening concerning Hirrye, but that Nahor knows all of it".
Helbe the elven thief briefly pauses before adding "Well, everything the personal guard delivered to him in that message".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, then looking at the elven magic user in the group, he tells him "Have our agents keep an eye on all of them".
Des'tier continues with "Especially that personal guard to Hirrye as well as more on Nahor".
"Will do" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel with a nod of his hooded head.
Then Draugadrottin, the lord and ruler of the nation that bares his family name.
Gives a number of orders as to what he wants done on this cold, but sunny winter's day in the city of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 17.

Winter.

"Then you deal with it!" shouts councilman Hirrye as he storms out of the office.
There's almost a snarl upon the visage of the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum as he makes his way down the hallway.
Behind him in the office is the mayor of Simsar. One of the largest towns in the freelands to the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
The mayor shares a look with his deputy, who shrugs his shoulders and quietly says "Something must of happened".
"Obviously" says the mayor of Simsar as he wonders what's set the so called duke of Kuradum off this time.
"How bad?" quietly asks Hirrye of Kuradum as he enters the antechamber here in Simsar's mayoral house.
"Bad I'd say" is the quiet reply of Phogarn, the subcommander in Hirrye's army who has just given him the latest report of the war back in their homeland.
Phogarn, a tall, dark haired, lean man in his early thirties, who is one of the councilman's closest confidants.
Then tells the so called duke of Kuradum "Not just those towns in the east, but the frontlines as well".
Hirrye, a man in his early forties, of middling height, slightly overweight, but a shrewd looking individual for all that, scowls when he hears that from his confidante and friend.
"Where in the lines?" asks councilman Hirrye as they step outside, into the cold, windy day here in the town of Simsar.
Which lies about forty miles to the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
If you travel directly south from here, you'll eventually end up somewhere in the northwest of Kuradum.
The two men from the city of Kuradum are surrounded by soldiers from their homeland who were waiting outside for them.
The councilman gives them an order, and they all move off, with Hirrye deep in conversation with the subcommander in his rebel army.
"This new mercenary army those idiots on the council have hired?" quietly asks the self titled duke of Kuradum.
"Because i don't think your friend Tracklen could of achieved this" adds councilman Hirrye.
"I agree" says subcommander Phogarn after he gives one of the men an order.
As that soldier hurries ahead, the subcommander quietly says "This mercenary army is a force to be reckoned with".
Phogarn briefly pauses as he's yet to reveal the extent of the damage done to their forces over the last few days in their homeland to the man who wants to rule Kuradum by himself.
Then the subcommander in the faction of the Kuradian army whose loyalty lies with councilman Hirrye, quietly says "We've lost over a half of the southern quarter of our lines".
The so called duke of Kuradum almost trips when he hears that, as he can't quite believe what his confidante and friend has just told him.
Hirrye stares in disbelief at Phogarn for a moment or two as they walk through the town of Simsar, surrounded by soldiers in their army.
"Fuck" says the councilman from the city-state of Kuradum.
The subcommander in the rebellious army can only nod in agreement with that from his friend.
The so called duke of Kuradum is silent for a bit as they walk through town.
Then the councilman who has rebelled against the ruling council of Kuradum, quietly asks "What do you suggest?".
"That we get back as quickly as possible" says subcommander Phogarn, who follows that with "Losing the eastern towns like Salmet Crossing and Holmsted was bad enough".
The senior officer in the rebellion army who still doesn't know how that was achieved, continues with "But this attack upon our frontlines must be seen too" he then adds "We have to retaliate for the attacks on the line".
Councilman Hirrye nods his head in agreement, then he quietly says "That's what we'll do then".
Looking at the mast of one of their airships sticking up from behind some of the buildings they're heading towards.
The self styled duke of Kuradum, who hopes to disband the ruling council.
And replace it with what's essentially a ducal seat, or duchy. Where he will be the sole leader.
Bringing in a nobility, where a council voted upon by various segments of Kuradian society, is no longer needed.
"Instead of flying back" says councilman Hirrye, who continues on with "We'll go back the other way" followed by "Have Losmena ready for our departure".
"I got one of the men to run ahead and inform her" says subcommander Phogarn.
"Good" grunts the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum, who knows getting back to their homeland is the most important thing at the moment.
As they need to stop the momentum that the loyalist forces have had over the last few days.
Reading a book in her room, Losmena the sorceress looks up when there's a knock on her door.
It's one of the soldiers, who informs her that the councilman is returning from his meeting with the local mayor.
And that councilman Hirrye and subcommander Phogarn wish to discuss something with her.
"I'll be there shortly" says the sorceress Losmena, who after the soldier departs. She looks out the window of her room, at one of their airships next to the inn, on the edge of town where they're staying.
The sorceress suspects they'll be heading back to Kuradum.
She's proven right a little bit later. Though she was expecting they would be going back the same way they got here, by airship.
No, they're going back by way of a spell cast by her.
"What happened sir?" asks Losmena as they stand next to the pair of airships they traveled here from Kuradum on.
"Some defeats" sourly says councilman Hirrye, who then glances sideways at the spellcaster.
Losmena, is fairly young. Not yet twenty, still a teenager at eighteen years old.
Slim, with blonde hair she keeps fairly short. She knows that she's attractive. And that councilman Hirrye is attracted to her. Even though he's a married man with a family.
He's not the only one. More than a few of those close to the self titled duke of Kuradum.
Are attracted to the young practitioner of magic from the city of Kuradum.
But none of them have tried anything on her. For the simple reason she's quite a powerful sorceress.
Infact, she's more than quite powerful. She's a very powerful spellcaster.
Far more powerful than most sorcerers and sorceresses. The most common of all the human practitioners of the arcane arts.
Subcommander Phogarn walks over to them after speaking to a few of the officers.
And as the vast majority of those who traveled with them to here in the freelands to the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
Prepare to depart in the same way they got here. By the pair of airships moored on the ground next to the inn.
The councilman, his friend and confidante the subcommander, the sorceress, as well as the councilman's personal guards.
Depart the town of Simsar and the freelands by another way.
"Where to exactly?" asks the young attractive spellcaster from the city of Kuradum.
"One of the usual places in the east?" adds Losmena the sorceress.
Councilman Hirrye and subcommander Phogarn share a look.
Then the man who wants to rule Kuradum by himself, quietly says "Probably best if we didn't".
"Or anywhere in the south too" adds the subcommander in the army of the rebellion.
The sorceress lifts an arched eyebrow at that. As both the south and the east of city-state of Kuradum. Well most of it at least. Are under their control.
"Good chance a lot of the places in the east and the south have been infiltrated by the enemy" says subcommander Phogarn, who quietly continues with "Don't want them knowing when and where we've turned up".
Councilman Hirrye nods in agreement with that, then he quietly says "Somewhere in the northwest" followed by "Somewhere random that you know".
Even though the northwest, like a lot of the west of Kuradum, is still under the control of the ruling council.
Subcommander Phogarn is in agreement with the self appointed duke of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Very well" says Losmena the sorceress who continues with "I know a place".
She steps to one side, and starts casting. It's just mere moments and a rift starts to appear.
Once it forms, subcommander Phogarn sends a couple of the councilman's guards through first.
Then he goes through after them, followed by councilman Hirrye himself, and the rest of his personal guards.
The sorceress Losmena is the last through the rift that's she cast to a location in the northwest of the city-state of Kuradum.
"We need to get in contact with our friends in the capital" quietly says councilman Hirrye a short time later, as they wait in a small clearing in some woods.
It's far colder here in northwestern Kuradum, than it was up in the freelands to the north of the city-state.
"And others elsewhere" adds the former member of the ruling council of Kuradum.
The self styled duke of Kuradum is sitting on a large rock. With his travel satchel on his lap.
He's got out his writing instruments, and on small pieces of parchment, he's writing a couple of messages.
After completing the messages, and handing one each to a pair of his guards.
Hirrye nods to the sorceress Losmena, who creates a rift, that quickly forms.
One of the councilman's personal guards with a missive hurries through it.
The rift vanishes, and another one is quickly cast by the powerful sorceress from the city-state of Kuradum.
After the second rift disappears when the other personal guard to the councilman has passed through it.
Councilman Hirrye, subcommander Phogarn, the sorceress Losmena, and the councilman's remaining personal guards.
Move off, heading through the woods, that are located somewhere in the northwest of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Galmond Falls" says Losmena the sorceress, who follows that with "My grandmother grew up here".
"Thought it looked familiar" says subcommander Phogarn, who then adds "Came through here about a decade ago when i made rank".
"Never been here" says councilman Hirrye as they look down at the town in the valley below.
At the southern end is the falls the town is named after. While the town sits at the northern, the more elevated end of the valley.
"How far to Kilmond from here?" asks the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum, referring to one of the largest towns in the west of the city-state.
"Not far, a little over a day's ride from here" replies the powerful sorceress.
The subcommander in the rebel army nods in agreement, then he looks at his friend the councilman "Ride there?".
Hirrye, who started this rebellion for a number of reasons. Foremost he thinks he can rule better than the current ruling council of Kuradum.
Thinks about it for a few moments, then he nods and says "We ride".
Subcommander Phogarn after quickly thinking about something, says to the remaining personal guards of the councilman "You three go into town and buy some mounts".
After throwing a pouch of coins to the senior most guard, the subcommander adds "Get some travel supplies for us all too".
"Yes sir" says the senior most guard, who along with his two comrades, move off and head down the track to the town of Galmond Falls.
"They should be fine" quietly says Phogarn the subcommander, as the trio of soldiers aren't exactly in uniform. Nor for that matter is he. As they look more like traveling mercenaries than anything else.
The senior officer could of gone into town as well. But he thought better of it.
As he thinks it's best to keep close to councilman Hirrye. For a number of reasons. Foremost to protect the man who wishes to rule the city-state of Kuradum. And not just from threats, but also from himself.
As Phogarn has seen how the councilman has a growing infatuation with the sorceress Losmena, that's bordering on being obsessive.
The subcommander doesn't want the councilman doing something he regrets.
As for the sorceress herself. Phogarn doesn't know if she suspects councilman Hirrye is infatuated with her. But he has a feeling that she does.
After all, subcommander Phogarn as he follows the two of them back amongst the trees to wait for the guards to return. Won't let the councilman be left alone with her at anytime.
Even the attractive, young, and relatively inexperienced sorceress must of noticed this by now . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 16.

Winter.

Zam the ex mercenary almost jumps in fright when something grabs his right ankle.
The young man from the city of Kuradum swings his sword down behind him.
And is rewarded with a groan of pain from the enemy soldier at the bottom of the trench who just grabbed him.
Zam turns, then stabs down with his blade, killing the wounded soldier serving in the forces of councilman Hirrye.
"Zam you okay?" asks Tovis the war engineer who looks down into the trench he's next to.
"Yeah good" is the reply of Zam the ex mercenary, who takes the offered hand of the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic, who helps him up and out of the trench.
Zam looks around as he takes a few deep breaths, and with all three moons up in the night sky at the moment.
He can see that the enemy lines here have been absolutely devastated from the nighttime attack.
Looking off to the west, the ex mercenary asks the war engineer "Where's that lot off to?".
"To go and get that lot of their's over there" replies Tovis, who is a captain in the armies of Farque.
The young engineer who previously served a certain baron Harkonin in his homeland of Druvic, gestures away to the loyalist battlelines three quarters of a mile away to the west, as he says "They'll bring that lot over here".
The war engineer nods for Zam to follow him, and as they walk northwards, Tovis quietly tells the young man from here in the city-state of Kuradum "The enemy are going to be in for a surprise at this end of their lines".
Gesturing at the trenches they're passing, then at the enemy camp just fifty yards away to the east, on either side of the road.
The captain who commands an engineering corp in the armies of Farque, says "If they haven't been already".
As he walks alongside Tovis, Zam quietly asks him "Are we going somewhere?".
As he spots a number of Farqian soldiers up ahead, are starting to gather.
They briefly pause as an injured soldier from the lands Farque is carried away by two of his comrades.
Then when they get underway again, the war engineer quietly says "We are".
"Prepare to move out once that lot from over there start showing up" says Tamric Drubine the field commander to some of the officers.
The senior officer in the armies of Farque after he dismisses the officers, glances up into the night sky.
And is pretty certain that the snowfall is much lighter than it was earlier in the night.
The nobleborn young man originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Nods to Tovis the war engineer and Zam the ex mercenary who walk up to where he's standing on a pile of snow next to one of the trenches.
"The others are this way" says the field commander in the armies of Farque.
"Dorc!" yells Lisell Maera the scout in disgust, who quickly backs away.
"Dorc needs a shit" states Dorc da Orc who has squatted down, and is now taking a dump.
The large ork's bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic backs away as well. Making gagging sounds as he does so.
While Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, quickly lifts up the black cloth he always wears around his throat and neck.
And wraps it around the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and nose as he quickly moves away.
As the trio who were closest to the large ork, hurry to where the others are waiting.
Zam the ex mercenary, Tovis the war engineer and Tamric Drubine the field commander join the rest of the group who are waiting in the enemy camp, or what remains of it.
Zam, who has learnt to expect anything and everything in his short time in the group.
Screws up his face in disgust as he spots Dorc da Orc off to one side, just squatting there, taking a dump without a care in the world.
The ex mercenary uses a gloved hand to cover his nose and mouth, as he gets a whiff of what the ork warleader is doing when the breeze comes this way for a bit.
Then Zam pays attention to what lord Farque is saying as the undead warlord is speaking.
"The next section of their frontlines is about a mile and a half to the north of here" says lord Farque who continues with "At a farming village up there".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord follows that with "We'll hit them before the night is out".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque looks around to see how things are during the aftermath of the attack upon the southern most position of the enemy lines.
And he spots the local army commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris organising things with their troops.
Who have come off pretty unscathed in the nighttime attack upon the enemy.
"We'll use the same tactic" quietly says the undead being who is also know by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
The undead warlord says to field commander Drubine "Tam inform commander Tracklen in what's happening".
"Yes my lord" says the senior officer in the armies of Farque, who moves off to inform the local army commander at what's happening.
A little while later, as soldiers from the loyalist army are making their way over here to the enemy position.
Those who came here under commander Tracklen, and the near equal amount of Farqian soldiers.
Start heading off, going north towards the next position the enemy have here at the southern end of their battlelines.
With Helbe the elven thief out infront on this cold, slightly snowy night, here in the south of the city-state of Kuradum.
The rest of the group travel at the front of the column, where commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris are situated.
Stifling a yawn, as it's now well after midnight, commander Tracklen quietly asks "You know how many we will be up against at that village?".
Walking to his left, is the large, heavily armoured form of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Who is silent for a moment or two as he senses away to the north as they march along the road.
Then the undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates as, The Destroyer, quietly says "More than us".
The lord of the death realm slightly pauses before adding "Over five hundred and fifty" followed by "Some of those will be villagers that they haven't been able to move away this winter".
"Makes sense" quietly says the commander of the army still loyal to the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
Next to him, on his right, his adjunctant Morris nods his head in agreement with the more senior officer.
"It's well after midnight" explains Draugadrottin, who continues on with "It'll be halfway to dawn when we attack".
The undead warlord as they walk along the road that heads north, then says "You and your men will have to hit them as hard as possible".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then adds "Like you did back at that camp".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord follows that with "We don't want any of them getting free, and heading further north to their next position along their lines".
Both loyalists, commander Tracklen, and the adjunctant Morris, nod in agreement with the undead warlord.
As they, and those following behind them. Continue northwards through the lightly falling snow, on this cold winters night in southern Kuradum.
With scouts and pathfinders from both the Farqian first army, and the loyalist army out infront.
The undead warlord drops back to walk with the rest of the group, with the exception of Helbe the elven thief who has gone on ahead.
Infact lord Farque can sense that the elven magic user, along with Narladene the ground pixie.
Are already in the village that the rest of them are heading to this night.
"Not much in the way of guards" quietly murmurs Narladene the ground pixie after she lands upon the right shoulder of the elven masterthief she's attached to.
Nodding his hooded head in agreement with the tiny winged creature, Helbe the elven thief murmurs "Probably a duty no one wants to do on a night like this".
The naturally magical creature who is from the Sunreach Mountains is in agreement with that.
As the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel makes his way through the village.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user doesn't take long to check out the village that the enemy has taken over.
And he heads back to the south side of the village, the direction the others are coming from.
On the roof of a house at the southern outskirts of the village, which is located in the middle of some farm country.
The elven master assassin looks away to the west, and he spots the loyalist frontlines a good two and a half, almost three miles away.
So far away, that councilman Hirrye's forces here haven't even bothered to dig any trenches, or build any fortifications or defensive positions. No walls, dirt or otherwise to be found on the west side of the village.
After their quick look around, both Helbe the elven thief and Narladene the ground pixie has learnt that the enemy is using this village as a staging ground.
Where supplies are brought in, and distributed elsewhere along the southern end of the battlelines of councilman Hirrye's forces.
"Might want to take them intact" quietly murmurs the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
Narladene nods as she looks towards the nearby barns. One of which has obviously been built recently.
Then the ground pixie drops off the right shoulder of the highly talented elven magic user for a bit, and heads to the barns.
The naturally magical creature returns fairly quickly, then after she lands upon the right shoulder of the elven master assassin, she quietly says "Those barns are pretty stuffed full of supplies".
The elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head when he hears that.
Then the highly talented elven magic user quietly says "They're almost here".
As he looks away to the south, where the road comes down a wooded hill.
Helbe the elven thief floats down to the ground, and with a thought he drops the pair of bored looking guards who are on sentry duty at the southern end of the village.
On this cold winters night in this part of southern Kuradum.
The member of the personal council to lord Farque turns, and heads back into the village.
He doesn't go far before he enters a house without anyone noticing.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user goes from room to room, four in all.
Where he kills in their sleep, a number of the enemy officers who have been posted to this village.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril keeps the last one alive, knocking out the man in his sleep.
It's the commander of councilman Hirrye's forces here in this village.
With the help of a spell, the highly talented elven magic user gets the unconscious enemy officer onto his left shoulder.
Then the elven princeling makes his way outside, as the first of those coming from the south, come into view.
"Not many of them up and awake at the moment" quietly says Helbe the elven thief in reply to Narladene the ground pixie asking him "Think they'll put up a fight more than that last place?".
"So i rather doubt it" continues the elven masterthief as more and more of the column of loyalist soldiers, and Farqian soldiers come into view of the village.
On this cold winters night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 15.

Winter.

Lisell Maera the scout looks up and watches the falling snow for a few moments.
Two of the moons of Volunell are up at the moment, giving off a bit of moonlight to see by on this cold winters night, here in the south of the city-state of Kuradum.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Then goes back to watching the enemy, and their camp they have less than two hundred yards from her position.
It's the frontlines of councilman Hirrye's army. Well, the southern end of it at least.
And in the distance, just over three, quarters of a mile away to the west. Lies the frontlines of the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, in this part of the city-state.
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
Who is now in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Sourly smiles, then rolls her eyes as she hears someone approaching from behind.
Lis does so again, when she hears someone else. Who like the first, she immediately recognises.
The scout Maera slightly sighs in relief when she hears lord Farque mutter "Would you two be a bit more fucking quiet" followed by "If not, I'll make you fucking quiet forever".
The attractive young woman who grew up in the poorer districts of the city of Brattonbury.
Hears a grunt from Dorc da Orc, and a quiet clearing of the throat from sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
The two of them are definitely more quiet as they along with lord Farque approach the position where Lisell Maera waits.
"They'll be coming around shortly" quietly says the undead warlord in the elven language when he crouches down next to where the scout is kneeling next to a tree.
Lis looks away to the left at the road that comes around the woods from the south.
And she slightly nods when she hears in the distance, someone on the road.
They wait as it continues to snow in the night, then coming into view are a column of soldiers and mercenaries, on their way to the nearby enemy camp this cold, winter's night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Go" quietly says the large, heavily armoured deathlord in the elven language.
Then as the two of them get up, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque quietly says in the common language "You two, let's go".
Lisell Maera and lord Farque walk out from the trees, they're followed by Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Further along, others in the group, walk out from the trees.
They too, head towards the road that the column of soldiers and mercenaries are on.
At the front of the column, commander Tracklen along with his adjunctant Morris.
Ignore those they spot away to the right, walk from the woods, and head towards the road.
Where they join the back of the column, where the mercenaries are.
The commander in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, shares a look with his adjunctant.
"It's going to work" quietly says commander Tracklen of the loyalist army.
"I sure hope it does sir" is the quiet reply in an unconvincing tone of voice from the adjunctant Morris.
The two of them share a look again as they walk at the front of the column through the falling snow towards the camp that's on either side of the road they're on.
When commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris were told of the plan earlier.
They both thought it was completely nuts, and not worth doing. And if Tracklen was still in overall command of the loyalist's campaign.
He'd never give the go ahead for such a plan as the one they're doing this night.
Though as they get closer and closer to the camp, here at the very southern end of the battlelines of the forces of councilman Hirrye.
The local army commander and his adjunctant are thinking that there might be a true bit of genius in what they're attempting.
The senior most officer in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, slightly nods when a disembodied voice to the right of him, quietly says "Nothing to worry about" followed by "They'll think you are, who they're expecting".
With a glance at his adjunctant Morris walking beside him, commander Tracklen quietly says "Here we go then".
The junior of the two loyalist officers just nods his head as they approach the sentry guards that are waiting for them on the road.
The army commander, not a religious man at all. Gives a silent prayer to the gods that this works.
Then he gives the order to slow, then halt to the column of soldiers and mercenaries following.
"We were expecting you lot yesterday" says a bored sounding soldier on guard duty on the road.
"Not in the middle of the bloody night" adds the soldier, who definitely sounds like he'd rather be inside his squads tent, and not on guard duty, this cold winters night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
"We got stuck in the damn snow away to the south" says commander Tracklen in a conversational tone of voice.
"The wagons got stuck on that damn useless road so many times we left them to catch up" adds the commander in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
"They should be here in the morning is my guess" continues commander Tracklen, who grunts as his adjunctant Morris sourly says "Maybe".
The soldier on guard duty grunts in sympathy, then he nods and gives the responding word in reply to commander Tracklen saying "Oh" followed by the code phrase to signify they're the relief column to join the usurpers army, at the southern end of the frontlines.
"An area has been cleared out for you lot to set up" says the soldier on guard duty this night.
Who calls over another sentry, and tells him "Show them where they're to set up their tents".
"Thanks" says commander Tracklen, who gives a lazy salute back to the enemy soldier who did all the talking.
Who salutes him, before hurrying off the road, to a nearby burning brazier that a couple of other guards are standing around, trying to keep warm on this cold winters night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
Commander Tracklen gives the order to the column behind him to resume. And with the sentry guard leading the way. The army commander and his adjunctant, along with two hundred soldiers in the loyalist army. As well as a similar number from the third army of Farque, who are posing as mercenaries.
Enter the camp of councilman Hirrye's forces at the southern end of their lines.
With the snow still falling, commander Tracklen after yawning says "Sure was".
In response to the sentry leading the way, saying "Must of been rough going in this weather".
As he engages in a little bit of small talk with the enemy sentry guard. The commander of the army loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, wonders how things are faring further back in the column following behind him.
Lisell Maera the scout slightly winces as infront of her, she sees lord Farque grab the left arm of Dorc da Orc, and quietly say to him "Don't cunt".
Followed by something in the guttural, and incomprehensible language of the ork race.
As the large ork who was growling, was about to move out of the column and attack one of the sentry guards they just went by. Who pointed at the ork warleader, and asked if he was a troll.
Lis winces again as she sees the undead warlord squeeze the left arm of the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Who hisses in pain, before muttering something in his native language. It's only then that the large, heavily armoured deathlord let's go of the ork general's arm.
The scout Maera shares a look with Tovis the war engineer who is walking beside her. Who also saw what was happening right infront of them.
The young engineer who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, and is now a captain in the armies of Farque.
Wryly smiles, and just shakes his head as they and rest of the column make their way along the road through the enemy camp.
On this cold winters night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
Back at the front of the column, as the adjunctant Morris is talking to the enemy sentry guard, who is leading the way along the road.
And asking him how things have been of late at this end of the frontlines of the war between the two factions fighting over who is to rule the city-state of Kuradum.
Commander Tracklen is just wondering when things are going to kick off.
As he knows when it does, it'll come from further back in the column following him.
The commander of the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum doesn't have to wait too much longer.
For as the sentry guard points up ahead, away to the right. Where there's open ground for them to pitch their tents.
Commander Tracklen hears it from further back in the column. It's easily identifiable, because it's a loud roar that shatters the relative quiet of this cold, snowy winters night in this part of Kuradum.
After hearing lord Farque murmur in the ork language "Now cunt".
Dorc da Orc loudly roars, and with an axe he's carrying in his right hand.
He hurls it at an enemy soldier, who is up late. Standing out the front of his squads tent. Watching who he thinks are new arrivals in the army of councilman Hirrye in the war against the ruling council of Kuradum.
The ork throwing axe, the size of a large battleaxe if a human was wielding it.
Slams into the enemy soldier, who goes flying backwards into the tent he shares with his squad. A tent that basically collapses from the impact.
There's a momentary pause in the night, then all hell breaks loose in this camp at the southern end of the frontlines.
At the front of the column, commander Tracklen rips his sword out of the back of the enemy sentry guard who was leading the way, then he shouts out "Go!".
The soldiers in the army loyal to the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
Run off the sides of the road, into the enemy camp, and enter the tents where they start butchering the sleeping enemy.
Commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris both had reservations of basically murdering the enemy soldiers as this plan entails.
But the both of them, along with the two hundred soldiers from their army they've brought along with them this night, have no qualms of doing what's needed to be done.
And while most of the loyalist run into the east side of the enemy camp to wreck havoc.
The two hundred or so following Farqian soldiers of that nation's third army.
Head into the otherside of the enemy camp, the west side of the camp.
And while some start slaughtering the sleeping enemy, and those waking up, wondering what's going on this night.
The majority of the black clad soldier from the lands Farque fighting on the side of the loyalist army.
Head straight for the enemy frontlines, which here at the very southern end of the lines.
Are a series of trenches that the enemy have dug, where even at night they keep manned.
Though on such a cold winters night like tonight, where it's snowing. And visibility is poor. And the chances of attack from the loyalist battlelines, three quarters of a mile away to the west, is slight at best.
There isn't too many soldiers in councilman Hirrye's forces in the trenches this night.
And as they're wondering what's going on in their camp behind them.
A wave of black clad soldiers sweeps into the trenches before they know what's happening, on this cold winters night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 14.

Winter.

"Fine, we're holding our own" says the adjunctant Morris in response to his father asking him "And how goes the war?".
The officer in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum isn't specific when it comes to the war.
After all, members of his family are sympathetic to the otherside.
And though his father, as well as his mother, don't back the side led by councilman Hirrye.
They're indifferent to the war, and really couldn't care less who wins the conflict that's taking place in their homeland.
Morris, who doesn't mention the recent victories over the last few days the ruling council has had.
Just nods his head when his father says "See there's a large mercenary army on the council's side now".
The elder Morris shakes his head, as he continues with "Those black clad soldiers can be seen right across the city".
"Not interfering with business are they?" asks the adjunctant to commander Tracklen.
"No they're not" says the father of the army officer, who then adds "Thank the gods and anyone else who gives a damn".
They're in the old yards, and warehouses. On the property adjacent to the family manse.
Not all that far from the center of the city. Where a large portion of the rich and successful of Kuradian society live.
The old yards is one of the few large open areas in the city center that isn't a public park.
The adjunctant and his father have stopped at a bench seat next to a tree, as flakes of snow swirl through the air, on this cold winter's day here in the city of Kuradum.
Looking towards one of the warehouses, where a couple of wagons are being unloaded this afternoon.
"That's good to hear" says Morris, who only gave his parents one bit of advice when it came to doing business during the war.
And that's not to do any business with councilman Hirrye's side of the conflict.
So far they've stuck to that. And haven't had any dealings with the so called duke of Kuradum.
It's also helped that they've seen how those who collaborate with the renegade councilman are treated.
As more than a few businesses, predominantly traders. Have been shut down by the ruling council when they were caught selling goods to councilman Hirrye's side in the war.
And though executions for those who have collaborated with the enemy have so far been rare.
The adjunctant knows that will be changing, now that the foreign mercenary commander, lord Farque has taken over the council's campaign against the usurper Hirrye.
"Looks like a runner from the council building" says the parent.
The army officer looks away to the right down the path, and spots a young runner in the Kuradian army heading this way.
"I best be going" says the adjunctant Morris.
"Take care son" states the father of the Kuradian army officer.
"I will father" quietly says Morris as his father hugs him.
"Tell mother i said hello" says the adjunctant to commander Tracklen, who then turns and makes his way towards the oncoming runner.
With the teenage runner at his side, Morris makes his way from the old yards.
"There sir" says the young runner in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
They cross the street as two figures step out from between a pair of buildings.
One, tall. Well over six foot in height. Lean in appearance. Wearing a grey hooded cloak.
The other in black armour and black cloak. A young woman, tall, athletic and attractive.
"Return to the council runner" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy.
"Ah yes sir" says the young runner after glancing at the adjunctant Morris, who nods for him to do so.
"This way" says the spy originally from the elven principality of Alínlae, to the officer in Kuradian army still loyal to the ruling council of the city-state.
Morris follows after the spy Tanith and Lisell Maera the scout who head back between the two buildings.
Dropping back to walk beside Morris, letting the scout Maera lead the way.
Dalinvardèl Tanith, or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those in the group.
Quietly says to the local army officer "Best we get the serious planning done elsewhere, and not the council building" followed by "Now that we've found a couple others along with Nahor, who are working for the pretender Hirrye".
The elven spy, who is a battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque then says "We'll keep feeding them information we want them to overhear".
Dalin then adds "Meanwhile the important things will be handled elsewhere".
As he walks beside the tall elf, the adjunctant Morris nods his head as they make their way through the city streets behind the attractive young woman who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
The officer in the Kuradian army still loyal to the ruling council, the faction led by councilman Sammis in the war against councilman Hirrye.
Finds himself being led to an inn, not one of the more opulent inn's in the city.
But definitely one of the better ones, just to the west and north of the city center.
With snow flakes drifting down and swirling around whenever the wind picks up, here on this cold winter's day in the city of Kuradum.
They make their way across the back courtyard of the inn, and enter it via the backdoor.
Waiting for them in the common room is the ex mercenary Zam.
The young man from here in Kuradum, gets up and leads the way upstairs.
To the large double room where the rest of the group is waiting for them.
With the group is commander Tracklen of the army of Kuradum.
Morris goes and stands beside his superior officer, who is at the table in the middle of the large room.
Standing there at the table, is lord Farque. As well as members of his personal council.
Mira Reinholt the mage, Helbe the elven thief, and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit. As well as field commander Tamric Drubine.
The rest of the group are scattered around the large double room here on the second floor of the inn.
With Dorc da Orc sitting in a corner next to an open window. While standing in the opposite corner from the ork warleader.
Is his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic. Who is scowling as he watches the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Commander Tracklen informs his adjunctant that there'll be another public execution later in the afternoon.
Another ranking officer in the enemy army. Who was captured this morning in the south of the city-state by lord Farque and the group who accompanies him everywhere.
The army commander Tracklen then says "We were just discussing the next phase of plans that lord Farque has devised".
As his superior officer explains a few things about the upcoming attacks, Morris the adjunctant slightly frowns.
"Why the change of plans?" asks the junior of the two local army officers as he looks across at the large, heavily armoured figure of lord Farque.
As these latest plans somewhat differ from the strategy the foreign mercenary leader had been planning to do in the coming days.
"New information we've obtained" says lord Farque, who doesn't elaborate on the information taken from the captain of a mercenary company hired by councilman Hirrye's faction, that they captured this morning.
Looking at the local army commander and his adjunctant, the undead warlord tells them "You and a detachment of two hundred of your men will be joining us and some of my forces".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque points at a spot on one of the maps on the large table they're standing around, and he says "To here".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord continues with "Be ready to depart the city a couple of glasses before midnight tonight".
The undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, then says "Until then, i suggest you get some rest"
The lord of the death realm follows that with "Because it's going to be a cold, not to mention long night".
Commander Tracklen, along with his adjunctant Morris nod their heads in understanding.
Then after discussing few more matters with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The army commander, along with his adjunctant make their way from the double room, then head downstairs.
Once they're out of the front door of the inn, the two local army officers start heading back to the council building of Kuradum.
"What do you make of it sir?" quietly asks the adjunctant Morris, followed by "Bit odd they're changing it up like that".
Nodding his head in agreement with his adjunctant, the army commander quietly says "They must of found something out".
The senior most officer in the army still loyal to the ruling council then adds "Whatever it is, they seem to think it important".
Commander Tracklen briefly pauses before continuing with "Best we find the best two hundred soldiers we've got here in the city to take with us tonight".
"I'll see to it when we get back" says the adjunctant Morris, who follows that with "With us going in the night, I've got a feeling it's going to be rough going".
"Hectic for sure" says the army commander in agreement with the more junior of the two officers.
Then as they round a corner, and make their way along the wide boulevard that runs through the center of the city.
And the grounds of the council building of the city-state of Kuradum come into view.
Commander Tracklen quietly says "If we make a breakthrough all the better" he continues on from that with "Even if we don't, hopefully we can make a major dent in their efforts there".
The adjunctant Morris nods his head in agreement with his superior as they make their way back to the council building.
As flakes of snow continue to swirl about in the air, on this cold winters day here in the city of Kuradum.
Later in the night, a yawning adjunctant to the army commander watches as the two hundred men he's picked, gather in the marshalling yards infront of the army barracks.
The adjunctant Morris is joined by commander Tracklen, who gives the order to move out.
The column of soldiers is meet by Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy and Zam the ex mercenary. Who give commander Tracklen instructions of where to go.
The army commander and his adjunctant are slightly surprised that they aren't heading out of the city.
As they've done the other times they've traveled with lord Farque and his army by magical means.
Instead they head towards a nearby public park, here in the center of the city of Kuradum.
There they find lord Farque and the rest of the group, along with a gateway that forms as the column of soldiers approaches.
Following instructions, commander Tracklen orders the two hundred soldiers through, led by another of the officers, and a pair of scouts.
Tracklen and Morris go through last, then they're followed by the lord and ruler of the lands Farque and the rest of the group who go with him everywhere.
The army commander and his adjunctant step out of the otherside of the gateway.
And they immediately feel how much colder it is here compared to the city of Kuradum.
And back in the city it had stopped snowing in the early evening. Here, where they are now, it's snowing.
Much heavier than the snowfall that the city of Kuradum had experienced earlier.
Commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris share a look, then the subordinate quietly says "Well, here we go".
As they, and the others make their way through some woods this night, here in the south of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 13.

Winter.

Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy follows the merchant down the street.
The battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque watches the man enter a shop.
The spy Tanith walks by the shop, here in the town of Gosmar, which lies in the east of the city-state of Kuradum.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Continues down the street on what's a cold winters morning in this part of Kuradum.
He's posing as a mercenary, from one of the companies based here, in the service of councilman Hirrye's forces.
The spy who hails from the elven principality of Alínlae, makes his way through Gosmar.
Until he gets to the backdoor of building, which opens for him as he approaches it.
Zam the ex mercenary closes the door after Dalin enters. And the young man from the city of Kuradum, follows the elven spy upstairs.
"He's there" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy once he and Zam join the others in one of the upstairs rooms, in an otherwise empty building.
Lord Farque nods his full helmed head, then quietly says to the others "We wait".
They don't have to wait long, as Helbe the elven thief appears out of thin air just a short while later.
"That's where this line ends" says Helbe the elven thief, who continues with "If he ends up here when he returns, we'll know".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, then says "Good" he then adds "Let's go" followed by "We've got other things to do".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head, then looks over at Beldane the cleric, and tells him "Go ahead" followed by "No one will know".
A few moments later and a gateway forms in the middle of the room, and with Helbe the elven thief leading the way, the group goes through, heading to somewhere else in the city-state of Kuradum.
"Their encampment was about two miles further east my lord" says a subcommander in the armies of Farque a short while later.
"They've been bogged down for the last little while" adds the subcommander, who continues with "Finding it rough going down on that road there".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord nods his full helmed head, and glances around the tree he's behind, and looks down to the road about fifty yards below.
There a column of the enemy, based here in the south of the city-state of Kuradum, have halted as they try to get some of their stuck wagons going again.
"They send any scouts or pathfinders up here?" quietly asks lord Farque, who like the subcommander, is speaking in elven.
"Just a couple" replies the officer in the infantry of the armies of Farque, who then adds "Same on the otherside".
The subcommander then says "They didn't spot us" followed by "They only made a token effort at looking".
The disapproving tone the Farqian officer says that in, is evidence of what he thinks of the enemy and their efforts.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque is a little annoyed that he's unable to break up the group, and task certain members to do various things in the war against councilman Hirrye's forces, here in the city-state of Kuradum.
The warning from Helbe the elven thief's forethought that the group must stay together.
Is making things a little bit more difficult and slower than he was hoping, when they first got involved in the war between the two factions that want to rule Kuradum.
The lord of the death realm was hoping to have Tamric Drubine the field commander and a few others in the group, only concentrate on the military effort here in the city-state.
While he oversaw the total effort, and others like Helbe the elven thief, Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, went about and did other things, and not get involved in any battles at all.
"Half in half?" quietly asks the undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"Yes my lord" is the reply of the Farqian army officer, who in a slightly dry tone of voice, adds "They've got their mercenaries following the wagon line of all things" followed by "Even those few who are mounted".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, as the enemy down on the road below, are predominantly foot soldiers, those both in the army loyal to councilman Hirrye, and the mercenaries they've hired for their cause.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque continues to look down the snow covered hill at the enemy on the road below.
"They'll make a mistake soon enough" quietly says Draugadrottin, the subcommander in his armies, nods in agreement with the undead warlord.
And sure enough, just a short while later. Some in the enemy column below. Too impatient to get going again. Start making their way forward.
Predominantly those in the army loyal to councilman Hirrye. As most of them are infront of the stuck wagons.
"Look at that, they're bunching up for us" says the undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier. Which means, The Destroyer.
"Subcommander you have command of the battle" says the deathlord of Farque.
"As my lord wills it" says the subcommander, who then bows to his lord, before he heads further back into the trees.
Draugadrottin continues to watch the enemy down on the road below for a few more moments.
Then he too turns around, and heads back amongst the trees, and makes his way to where the rest of the group are waiting.
"Go and take anyone you think is important before the subcommander gives the order to attack" says Des'tier to Helbe the elven thief.
The young elven noble who is originally from the island principality of Laerel, nods in understanding.
"Are we going to get involved?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine.
"We watch for now" states the large, heavily armoured deathlord, followed by "Come along then".
The group with the exception of Helbe the elven thief, make their way through the trees.
To a vantage point, where they can observe the attack upon the enemy column.
By the time they get to the edge of the trees, the subcommander has already given the order.
And the attack on the enemy column down below, has already got underway.
On what's a cold winters morning, here in the south of the city-state of Kuradum.
Arrows and bolts fly from the hidden positions of Farqian forces on both sides of the road.
Soldiers loyal to councilman Hirrye, and mercenaries who have been hired to fight for their cause.
Drop to the ground, as one after the other, arrows and bolts slam into them.
"Stay there cunt" says lord Farque without looking around.
"You as well Percy" adds the undead warlord.
Dorc da Orc along with his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, sourly smile as they stand there, watching the battle progress.
Now that the Farqian subcommander has given the order to advance. And black clad soldiers run out from the trees on both sides of the road, and head down the snow covered hills towards the enemy column.
Well, those of the enemy still standing, as dozens and dozens of them have been dropped by arrows and bolts, shot at them by Farqian archers.
Helbe the elven thief suddenly appears next to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
At the feet of the highly talented elven magic user, lies a couple of bodies. A closer look shows that they're unconscious.
One is an officer in the local Kuradian army loyal to councilman Hirrye. Who fancies himself the duke of Kuradum.
The other is a foreign mercenary captain. A pretty well off one at that if appearances are anything to go by.
As his armour and weapons are of good quality, infact they're excellent quality.
The same can be said about his clothing. Especially his thick fur lined cloak.
As the first of the Farqian soldiers make it down to the road, and are amongst the enemy who remain capable of fighting.
Helbe the elven thief says "The company commander" as he points at the local officer.
Then pointing at the unconscious mercenary, the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, says "He's the more interesting one".
"Oh?" says the lord of the death realm as he glances down at the mercenary, who to his eyes looks like a mildly successful captain of one of the many companies hired in the war, here in the city-state of Kuradum.
Switching to the royal elven language, Helbe the elven thief explains to lord Farque what he's found out by reading the mind of the mercenary captain.
As the fighting down on the road below continues. The undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
Listens in silence to what the elven master assassin has to say about the captured mercenary captain.
"That is interesting" quietly says the undead warlord in the royal elven language once the elven masterthief has explain to him about the unconscious mercenary captain.
"We'll keep him with us for a while" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who then adds "As for him". As he points at the officer in the army loyal to councilman Hirrye.
"We'll take him back to the city" continues Draugadrottin, who follows that with "So they can execute him".
The young elven noble, who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel, nods his hooded head.
Then the large, heavily armoured deathlord asks him "Where were they headed?".
As the watch the battle come to an end, as the Farqian soldiers who have attacked the enemy down on the road, have overwhelmed them.
The elven practitioner of magic, who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, says to him "They were headed up to the town of Corstae".
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel continues with "To reinforce that lot up there".
The lord of the death realm nods his full helmed head as he recognises the name of Corstae as the town at the southern end of the frontlines between the bulk of the armies on both sides of the war, here in the city-state of Kuradum.
"Well, they'll be waiting for a while then" dryly says the undead warlord as he watches members of his army below, wipe out the enemy.
"I'll speak with the subcommander" says Draugadrottin, who follows that with "Then we'll head off".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord turns and says in the common language "Dorc, carry him".
After pointing at the unconscious mercenary captain, the lord of the death realm points at the unconscious enemy officer, and says "Percy carry this one".
Des'tier knows it's best to keep the two most volatile members of the group occupied and doing things. So that they don't get into trouble.
"And no Dorc, you can't have a nibble on him" says lord Farque.
The large ork shuts his mouth, and sighs in disappointment as he was just about to ask if he could snack on an arm or a leg.
After all, the man is unconscious, and a prisoner. And will probably end up dead anyway.
The best opportunity in the opinion of the ork warleader of having a bite to eat without anyone caring.
After the two bitter rivals pick up the unconscious prisoners.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque says to the group "Come on, let's head down".
And after they make their way down the snow covered hill in the aftermath of the brief battle.
And the undead warlord speaks to the subcommander in his third army for a bit.
The group departs, leaving this area of southern Kuradum by way of a gateway that Beldane the cleric casts . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 12.

Winter.

Adjunctant Morris looks at the trio of condemned men, and slightly winces as he recognises one of them.
"Sarreb sir" quietly says Morris the adjunctant.
"I see him" quietly says commander Tracklen, who follows that with "He decided to join the otherside, this is what you get for doing so".
Next to the army commander, his adjunctant nods his head in agreement as they look across the square at the gallows.
The trio of condemned were brought in this morning by the foreign mercenary group led by lord Farque.
The three were taken from the eastern town of Holstein, which lies far behind the enemy lines.
The sergeant at arms overseeing the execution, looks across the square to where the commander, his adjunctant and assorted others are watching proceedings.
Commander Tracklen, though a young man, in his early thirties. Is the senior most officer in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
The army commander gives a nod for the sergeant at arms to get underway.
"By authority of the ruling council!" calls out the sergeant at arms from the raised platform that is the gallows.
"You three have been condemned to death for being part of the insurrection against the ruling council" continues the sergeant who then adds "May the gods have mercy on you".
He then nods, and the soldiers standing behind the condemned, kick out the three low stools the trio of enemy officers are standing upon.
The gathered crowd in the square cheer, well most of them do. As others are more pragmatic as they watch the trio hang there up on the gallows.
Commander Tracklen watches as Sarreb, the only one not to die instantly with a broken neck.
Kicks for the last time as he's strangled to death.
Then the army commander quietly says to his adjunctant and the others with him "Come on" followed by "Let's head back".
They turn, and leave the square and the gathered crowd, and head back to the council building, which isn't all that far away.
"Can you believe it sir?" quietly asks Morris the adjunctant as he walks alongside his commanding officer.
"About Sarreb?" asks Tracklen, who earned his position the hard way. As he came up through the ranks after joining the army as a young teen, where he started as a runner.
"No, the other thing" quietly says his adjunctant, who unlike his commander. Comes from one of the more wealthy and influential families in the city of Kuradum.
Joining the army is something his parents were explicitly against. And to this day, they're still annoyed at his decision to join.
Commander Tracklen slightly winces at what his adjunctant is referring to.
It seems councilman Hirrye, the so called duke of Kuradum. The man who leads the opposition to the ruling council. Isn't actually in the city-state at this time. He's somewhere else. Where exactly, no one is sure.
What they do know. Thanks to information gathered by the mercenary group led by lord Farque in the eastern town of Holmsted.
Which the enemy has been using as a supply and distribution depot.
Is that councilman Hirrye is beyond the borders of Kuradum. Buying up supplies, and more importantly mercenaries for his war against the ruling council.
"Trust him to be elsewhere" says commander Tracklen, who follows that with "No wonder we've had no sighting of him for over a month".
"And why even with the addition of lord Farque's mercenary army, our numbers are still less than their's" quietly says the junior of the two officers in the army that's loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
Commander Tracklen grunts in agreement with his adjunctant as they round a corner, and make their way onto the wide street, basically a boulevard, where the council building is located.
"We're making a serious dent in that now" quietly says the army commander.
His adjunctant nods in agreement. For since yesterday morning, the enemy have suffered a number of defeats behind their own lines.
Where the mercenary army from the lands Farque, sometimes with elements of the army still loyal to the ruling council.
Have attacked towns where councilman Hirrye's forces are located.
Lord Farque who has taken over the strategy for the ruling council's war against the usurper Hirrye.
Has concentrated the first phase of his plan behind enemy lines. And isn't really bothering about the frontlines of the conflict.
Which have bogged down due to it being winter. Where troop movement is difficult, especially when it snows and some of the roads become impassable.
"Them losing those towns in the east will make a difference" quietly says commander Tracklen, who continues with "And soon too".
The army commander as they enter the grounds of the city council building, then says "Word will get to Hirrye of the continuing losses, and i expect him to get back to Kuradum as quickly as he can".
"Let's hope so" says the adjunctant Morris as they enter the main building of the council of the city-state of Kuradum.
Looking up from one of the maps on the table, councilman Sammis asks "How was it?" when commander Tracklen and the others enter the room.
"Went as well as expected" replies the army commander, who follows that with "The crowd watching approved of it".
"As expected" says another of the councilors gathered around the table, who have been waiting for word of the public execution.
The senior most officer in the army still loyal to the ruling council is just about to say something.
When councilman Sammis gets in first with "He wants to see you" followed by a nod to a side door to a chamber off the larger room.
Tracklen nods, and along with his adjunctant make their way to the side chamber.
While the others who went to the execution with them, remain in the larger room where the council hold their meetings.
Entering the side chamber, commander Tracklen and adjunctant Morris find lord Farque and the group who are usually with him.
They're either standing around, or lounging on bench couches. With the exception of the ork, who is sitting beneath an open window, enjoying the cold air blowing in from outside.
"Take a seat" says lord Farque to the local army officers, as he gestures at an empty bench couch.
The undead warlord who is standing at the table in the center of the chamber.
Makes his way to the bench couch where Helbe the elven thief is sitting. It's opposite the one where the local army commander and his adjunctant sit, just six feet apart.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord after sitting, glances at the elven masterthief beside him, and slightly nods his full helmed head.
Looking at the two officers in the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, Helbe the elven thief asks them "How well do you two know Nahor?" followed by "He's an assistant to councilman Kolmar".
While commander Tracklen slightly frowns as he tries to recall the individual mentioned.
The adjunctant Morris says "I know who you speak of" followed by "Not well, but i know of him".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who is the envoy and chief negotiator for the armies of Farque, nods his hooded head.
Then the highly talented elven magic user says "Seems Nahor is a spy for the enemy".
The adjunctant Morris quickly looks at the closed door to the larger room, and says "He's in there with Kolmar and the other councilors".
"We know" says the elven master assassin who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"Where we want him to be" adds the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
Commander Tracklen, whose first instinct was to grab his sword, go into the next room, and strike down Nahor, one of the assistants to councilman Kolmar.
Nods his head in understanding, then he quietly asks "Why tell us?".
"Because you two can be trusted" says lord Farque.
"Even with, where some in your family's sympathies lie" adds Helbe the elven thief who nods at the adjunctant to the army commander.
Morris winces when he hears that, though he's not in the least bit surprised.
"Who?" asks the adjunctant Morris fearing the worst.
"Don't worry, it's not your parents" says the elf who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, Prince Raendril.
"They're pretty ambivalent to the war, and couldn't care less who wins" states the elven envoy.
The adjunctant Morris sourly smiles, then sourly says "Figures".
"Most of the rest of your family, both close and extended have similar feelings" says the elven princeling from Laerel.
Once again the adjunctant isn't all that surprised at hearing that.
"While two in your family can't be trusted" says the elven master assassin, who follows that with "More than their sympathies lie with councilman Hirrye's cause".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril briefly pauses before he adds "They fully back him and support him".
The elven magic user then tells the adjunctant who he's referring to.
Morris grimaces when he hears who the two family members who fully support the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye are.
The adjunctant slightly nods, when next to him, his commander murmurs "Sorry Morris".
He nods again, when the elf in the hooded cloak sitting opposite to him, says "Best to leave them alone" followed by "We certainly will".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel then says "We've got more important things to worry about".
"Such as?" asks the commander of the army still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
"Like that traitor in there" says the elven master assassin with a nod of his hooded head to the large room, the chamber they're in, is connected to.
"Nahor" adds the highly talented elven practitioner of magic, who briefly pauses before he continues with "This is what we'll  do".
The army commander and his adjunctant are silent as the elven envoy explains to them what they'll do about the traitor Nahor.
Then Tracklen and Morris get up when lord Farque and Helbe the elven thief do, and make their way to the table.
It's a map table, and the army commander nods when the elf in the white hooded cloak gives them more of an explanation as to what they'll be doing about Nahor.
"I take it this isn't at all as it seems?" asks commander Tracklen.
"Correct" says lord Farque who until now has been fairly quiet.
"It's to draw a number of others out" continues the undead warlord, who then adds "And for them to lead us to others, in particular, councilman Hirrye".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord points at one of the maps, then says "We will attack some of those towns, but not all of them" followed by "Nahor won't know this, nor those he informs".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque gestures to the larger room next door, then says "Best you inform the council that i intend to attack those six towns under the enemy's control over the next two days".
Both commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris nod in understanding.
They do so again, when Helbe the elven thief tells them "Ignore Nahor, don't watch for a reaction from him" followed by "We don't want him to suspect anything"
"We understand" says the local army commander, next to him, his adjunctant nods his head in agreement.
"Very well, get to it" says the undead being, who has the name of Draugadrottin that the people of his lands also know him by.
Commander Tracklen and adjunctant Morris, turn and make their way to the door to the larger room.
They make their way from the chamber into the larger room, where the army commander informs councilman Sammis and the rest of the ruling council what lord Farque intends to do against the enemy over the next couple of days.
Against one of the walls in the large room, are a number of benches. Where army officers, runners, pages, as well as assistants to each of the councilors are sitting.
One of the assistants to a certain councilman Kolmar, is paying particular attention to what commander Tracklen is telling the ruling council.
Making sure to remember every single thing the army commander has to say about the intended plans against the forces of councilman Hirrye over the next couple of days . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 11.

Winter.

"Of course i had to be near one of the one's fucking Mira blew up" Lisell Maera the scout mutters to herself.
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury. Rolls out from beneath the broken bits of planks she's beneath.
The scout in the armies of Farque looks around, and grimaces at what she sees.
The warehouse that she was standing opposite is no longer standing. It's just a pile of broken wood and debris.
The one to it's immediately left. The warehouse that first exploded. Is no longer there. It's just a crater in the ground.
Lisell Maera sourly smiles as she sees the next warehouse along to the right, is on fire.
And knows that one of the other spellcasters in the group has done that.
Because the mage Reinholt, even though he's no longer as powerful as he was more than fifteen years ago.
He still would of blown that warehouse to pieces if given the chance.
The scout Maera sees the other three warehouses here on the western outskirts of Holmsted are on fire as well.
She goes to get up off the ground, when someone grabs her by the left arm, and lifts her to her feet.
"Sorry" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as he draws the Farqian army scout away.
"Should of warned you that Mira would of attacked the ones at this end" continues the elf who is a battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group, just grunts in reply to that.
As the two of them hurry around to the side of a building, the front of which has been peppered by flying debris.
While frightened people in nearby houses and other buildings, look outside to see what's happened along the western outskirts of Holmsted.
Keeping close to the side of the building, Lisell Maera and Dalinvardèl Tanith watch what's happening across the street.
Seeing the survivors of the attack upon the half a dozen warehouses. Looking around, trying to figure out who it is that's attacking them.
"We don't have to worry about spellcasters do we?" quietly asks Lis in the elven language.
"His highness took care of them" is the quiet reply of the scout Tanith in the same language.
Then the spy, who is originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more prominent noble houses in that elven nation.
Nods his grey hooded head towards one of the warehouses that's on fire.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city of Brattonbury spots an enemy officer yelling orders, getting survivors and others to form a bucket line to a nearby well.
One moment that officer is pointing and shouting instructions. The next moment he disappears.
"Someone got him" murmurs Lisell Maera the scout, next to her Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more often than not called by the rest of the group, nods in agreement with the scout.
"No you can't" says lord Farque, who then adds "So leave him the fuck alone".
Dorc da Orc who has just asked if he could eat him. Grunts in disappointment as he looks down at the enemy officer who lies unconscious on the ground.
An officer in the forces of councilman Hirrye, who just a moment or two ago, was out on the nearby street, yelling orders.
When he suddenly disappeared from infront of one of the burning warehouses.
"How are you at reading minds?" asks lord Farque with a glance at Beldane the cleric who captured the enemy officer.
"Not my strong suit" says Beldane the cleric, who follows that with "Though I'm more than adequate".
"Read his" says the undead warlord who points at the unconscious enemy officer lying on the ground between them.
"Find out as much as you can" adds the large, heavily armoured deathlord who follows that with "Especially anything to do with troop movements and supply lines".
"Yes my lord" replies the powerful spellcaster who hails from the kingdom of Nastell.
Then without looking back, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque says "Stay" followed by "You too".
Dorc da Orc who was just thinking about heading out from between the two buildings, where they are, scowls.
As does his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic. Who was thinking the exact same thing as he leans up against the building on the right.
As they continue to look across the street to the warehouses, well those that are still standing, that are on fire.
"There's one" quietly says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit who points between two of the burning warehouses.
"There amongst the smoke" adds the halfling who hails from the Sultanate of Dreese, which lies upon the far east coast of the continent.
"I think i see him" quietly says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who glances to his right, and asks "Do you?".
"I think so" says Saanea the witch who set the two northern most warehouses on fire, here on the western outskirts of town.
The short, pretty looking spellcaster from the Maldin Hills, briefly closes her eyes.
Then when she opens them after looking through the eyes of her familiar which is circling above the destruction wrought this morning.
She quietly says "Got him" followed by "He's going to come this way".
Both Tamric Drubine, who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque. And Jarjin Littlefoot who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
Nod as they see some of the survivors of the attack upon the warehouses come staggering out of the smoke.
One of them, an officer in the army of the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
Continues staggering across the street, coughing and sputtering. Heading in this direction. Where the three of them are standing to the side of one of the last houses on this side of Holmsted.
A town well behind enemy lines in the city-state. A good forty miles from the frontlines in the war between councilman Hirrye's forces, and those still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, led by councilman Sammis.
The enemy officer waves off the attention of some of the locals who have come outside to see what's happened this morning.
Then he makes his way around to the side of the house where Jarjin Littlefoot, Tamric Drubine and Saanea the witch are watching things.
He blinks a few times in confusion, then he's promptly faints, falling to the ground infront of the young field commander in the armies of Farque.
"You get to carry him" quietly says the halfling who is former air sailor, having served in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese.
"Thanks" sourly says Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Then the young noble who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, asks his lover the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills "You want to read his mind before we take him away?".
Saanea the witch nods her head that she will as they continue to watch the remaining warehouses, here on the western outskirts of Holmsted, burn.
On this cold winter's morning, in this part of the east of the city-state of Kuradum.
A little while later in the morning, in the empty two storey building they appeared in just after dawn.
Zam the ex mercenary enters the large room, and nods when Mira Reinholt the mage who he was following, tells him "Over with those two".
The teenager from here in the city-state of Kuradum walks over to where a pair of enemy officers are lying on the floor unconscious.
And with the help of Tovis the war engineer who is following him. Zam puts the unconscious enemy officer he's carrying over his right shoulder. Down on the floor next to the other two.
"You get to keep an eye on them" says Tovis the war engineer to the ex mercenary.
"Holler out if any of them wakes" adds the young engineer who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, who is now a captain in the armies of Farque.
As Tovis wanders away to where the others are, leaving Zam over on this side of the large room.
The newest member of the group, having only joined during the autumn.
Glances away to the left, to the nearest corner. Where Dorc da Orc is squatting.
At first the teenager from the city of Kuradum thinks the large ork is taking a crap.
As Zam has seen him in that position before, doing exactly that. Something he doesn't particularity want to see again. Or to be exact, smell again.
But no, the ork warleader isn't taking a dump, much to the relief of the ex mercenary.
What the big, burly ork is doing. Is looking this way, at the trio of enemy officers, drooling as he does so.
Zam slightly grimaces and hopes to hell the ork general in the armies of Farque doesn't take it in his head, to come over here and start munching on one of the enemy officers.
As there's no way in hell that he'll be able to stop the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
The ex mercenary looks around for the ork weaponsmith's shadow. And he finds him in the opposite corner of the large room from general Dorc.
And though sir Percavelle Lé Dic is near where the others have gathered and are discussing things.
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic is paying them no attention.
The large, heavily armoured knight is looking this way, eyes on his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc.
Zam feeling uncomfortable, clears his throat, and looks to where the rest of the group are talking about things. Hoping they don't take too much longer with their discussion.
The ex mercenary, who can see through the open windows, smoke in the distance from the remnants of the burnt out buildings on the western outskirts of town.
Sees that the rest of the group are here, with the exception of Helbe the elven thief.
Zam isn't at all surprised at that. As he's learnt since joining the group in the autumn.
That the nobleborn elf from the island principality of Laerel, who is a member of the royal family that rules that elven nation.
Tends to go off on his own, doing something or another on behest for lord Farque.
Zam the ex mercenary is just wondering where the elven masterthief is.
When the elven magic user suddenly appears in the middle of the room.
"You're not going to believe this" says Helbe the elven thief, who then says something in the elven language. Or what Zam assumes is elven, but it isn't.
For lord Farque responds in the same language, and the elven master assassin tells him something.
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, then looks across the room in this direction.
"Bring them!" calls out lord Farque, who then adds something in the ork language as Dorc da Orc suddenly gets up and heads this way.
Zam picks up the enemy officer he brought in. And quickly steps out of the way, as the ork warleader picks up the other two unconscious enemy officers.
The ex mercenary, followed by the ork general, make their way across the large room to see what's happening.
When they do find out, Zam's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and wonders what they'll do next.
He along with the rest of the group, listen to what lord Farque has to say, before they depart the town of Holmsted by way of a gateway cast by Beldane the cleric.
On what's a cold winter's morning here in this part of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .