Tuesday 22 March 2022

The Thick Of It 38.

Winter.

The rebel army of councilman Hirrye arrives early in the afternoon the next day. And set up camp to the north of the walled town of Gensa. Just to the east of the main road that leads to the northern gates of the walled town.
By the looks of things they're not going to attack today. As they only move forward a relatively small number of their forces, to observe Gensa.
Lord Farque is having none of that, as he wants the enemy to attack the walled town as soon as possible.
So the undead warlord who doesn't wait for a parley of any kind, has the pair of catapults on the north wall, start flinging their loads at the enemy. Those forward observers who are within range of the catapults.
Rocks and boulders of all sizes rain down upon the couple of hundred enemy who are forward of their camp.
Those not killed or injured, quickly retreat. As they do, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque has his spellcasters attack them.
He also has Mira Reinholt the mage start sending mageglobes into the enemy camp.
After a few explosions amongst the tents and wagons. The commander of the enemy forces has had enough.
And he orders a full scale assault upon the walled town of Gensa.
Even though his war machines, such as his catapults and siege towers have yet to be properly set up.
"Make sure they only attack this wall" says lord Farque as the enemy form up to charge the north side of the walled town.
"Keep them from encircling the town" adds the undead warlord as he looks at the spellcasters, Mira Reinholt the mage, Helbe the elven thief, Beldane the cleric and Saanea the witch.
"That will be your main task for now, and make sure you take out their catapults" continues the large, heavily armoured deathlord as they stand upon the north wall of Gensa.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then glances up at the murky afternoon sky on this cold winter's day, then turns and says in the ork language "Think it'll snow cunt?".
After sniffing a few times as he looks up, Dorc da Orc says in the same language "Nah, not now" followed by "Fucken later, at night".
"Good enough" murmurs the undead being who has the name of Draugadrottin that the people of his lands also know him by.
Then Dorc da Orc chuckles and says in the common language "Silly fucken cunts" followed by "Look at 'em".
As he shakes his large head in disapproval as the enemy who have barely formed up ranks, charge forward.
As he stands a bit further down from the undead warlord, the ork warleader and some of the others in the group.
Zam the ex mercenary who doesn't know a lot about battles, as he's only been in a handful of them. Especially not sieges.
Nods his head in agreement with that assessment from the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
For the enemy are charging towards Gensa in what can only be described as a haphazard sort of a way.
They've broken ranks, and are all over the place. With many along the line, out distancing those beside them in their own squads.
As the two catapults upon the north wall, which are manned by local crews. Continue to fling loads of rocks and small boulders at the enemy.
Archers and crossbowmen get in on the action. Shooting at the rebel soldiers once they get within range.
As they continue to watch the disorganised attack upon the north side of Gensa.
Tamric Drubine the field commander quietly says to lord Farque in the elven language "Do we proceed as planned?".
As he watches a group of enemy soldiers fall over themselves as they attempt to carry forward a scaling ladder, Draugadrottin quietly says "Yes, at night".
The lord of the death realm continues with "When you fall back, i want as many of them within the town as possible".
As they watch as a number of the soldiers in councilman Hirrye's rebellion get dropped by arrows and crossbow bolts, the undead warlord dryly says "Hell, if these fucking idiots can't break down the gates themselves, you might have to open them up for them".
The young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, wryly smiles at that.
For as they watch the enemy's attempt to storm the north wall of Gensa, he suspects he might just have to do what the lord and ruler of the lands Farque just suggested.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord then says "Hell, you might just have to" followed by "Might be best if the gates are still intact".
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Slightly frowns at that from the lord of the death realm. Then after a moment, the young field commander nods in understanding.
And does so again, when lord Farque quietly tells him "I'll just have a word with the royal thief about it".
Draugadrottin continues with "Would be ideal if we're able to close those gates behind them".
The undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
Makes his way along the top of the wall to where Helbe the elven thief is standing.
While the former heir to castle Drubine, which lies in the forested north of the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Goes back to watching the haphazard attack of the enemy upon the north side of the walled town of Gensa.
Zam the ex mercenary steps to one side to allow Lisell Maera the scout to use more of the crenalation the two of them are behind.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury is using her crossbow to shoot at the oncoming enemy.
While to their left, at the next crenalation along in that direction. Stands Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who is using his bow to shoot at the charging enemy.
The ex mercenary who hails from the capital city of Kuradum looks in both directions along the wall.
And sees that the entire group is along this section of the wall, with the exception of Tovis the war engineer, who is elsewhere.
Then the teenager, who is the newest member of the group. Goes back to watching the rebel army who are charging towards the north wall of Gensa.
The forces of councilman Hirrye in the north of the city-state know that the local Gensa garrison have been reinforced by a thousand loyalist soldiers and city guardsmen from the capital.
As they departed the city of Kuradum a few days ago. Out the north gates of the capital, and they marched north to the walled town of Gensa.
All within view of the spies that the rebel councilman has at his disposal in the capital city, as it was intended.
For all that, the rebel army in northern Kuradum know that they still badly outnumber those loyal to the ruling council who are defending Gensa.
So even with their reckless and haphazard change upon the north wall of the largest town in the north of the city-state.
Quite a few of the rebel soldiers in the army of the so called duke of Kuradum.
Make it to the north wall, and put up scaling ladders, which many of them start to climb.
"Filthy beast" mutters sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a disapproving manner as Dorc da Orc pushes a scaling ladder away from the top of the wall.
"You could at least let them get to the top, wot" adds the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, who continues with "And let me have a go at them".
The large ork who isn't listening to his bitter rival, the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, which is pretty normal to be honest.
Just snorts in derision as he glances in the direction of the large, heavily armoured knight.
Who he figures is muttering something about him. Which is what the former earl of Lé Dic often does.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group is about to open his mouth to say something disparaging about the ork warleader.
But he falls silent when lord Farque turns and says "Percy" to the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
"Enough" adds the undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier. Which roughly translates to, The Destroyer.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord then says to the bitter rivals "You two know what to do?".
Dorc da Orc grunts in the affirmative, though he has a scowl upon his broad, green, brutish looking face as he thinks about what they're to do.
"Yes my lord" replies the Druvician nobleman who is a former paladin.
And though he isn't scowling like his bitter rival the ork warleader. He is frowning as he contemplates what they're to do later.
"Make sure you do, or else" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque in an ominous tone of voice.
Then the lord of the death realm turns and walks to where Tamric Drubine the field commander is standing watching the enemy attack the town of Gensa, and quietly says to him in the elven language "Make sure those two fucking idiots do what they've been told to do".
Knowing exactly who Draugadrottin is referring to, Tamric Drubine the field commander quietly says in the same language "I will".
That's if they listen to me, the young field commander dryly thinks to himself.
Meanwhile, the bitter rivals. Who never agree on anything. Share a look when lord Farque has his back to them, and speaks to the young noble from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
And though they dislike one another immensely, the two of them. Who have exactly the same idea what they want to do later, instead of what they've been told to do.
Slightly nod as they share that look. As they plan to do something else later on, instead of what they're supposed to do.
Further along the north wall of Gensa, as a few of the soldiers from the town garrison drop rocks down at the enemy at the base of the wall.
Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, who is on his tippy toes as he looks over a crenalation, says "Er, can't have that".
"Can't have what?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage who has been looking further back amongst the ranks of the enemy.
Back towards their camp, where workers and soldiers are struggling to assemble their siege engines. Specifically their catapults and siege towers.
The once powerful mage looks to where the halfling former air sailor from the Sultanate of Dreese points.
"Shit" mutters the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil when he sees what his fellow member of lord Farque's personal council has spotted.
Mira Reinholt quickly creates a mageglobe, as it's a lot faster for him to create one of them, than it is to cast a spell.
The living piece of magic shoots from the gloved right hand of the mage Reinholt, off the top of the wall.
Towards a number of the enemy about sixty yards away from Gensa.
They're a squad of enemy archers, and at their feet are firepots. Which some of them have already dipped their arrows wrapped with cloth soaked in pitch, around the heads into.
The mageglobe stops right in the middle of them, and does what it was created to do, and that's explode.
The explosion isn't particularly large, or violent. Infact it's more of an explosion of light really. Blue light, the colour of the mageglobe that's just come to the end of it's existence.
Lines of blue light shoot out, cutting and slicing apart anything they come into contact with.
Archers are cut in half where they stand. Their bows sliced apart too. While those crouching to dip the heads of the arrows into the fire pots, are decapitated.
The lines of blue light go about thirty yards in all directions. And others are struck by them. Punching holes right through them. Or cutting people in half, usually at the waist.
While others are just caught, and end up with legs or arms cut off. One poor unfortunate has a hand sliced off.
And as he drops to his knees screaming in pain, looking at the stump where his hand just was.
Another of the blue lines of light hits him, this one in the head as he's screaming, shaking his head at what's just happened to him.
His head is sliced apart diagonally, from the top of his skull, down through his right eye, then out his right cheek.
That part of his head slides off perfectly, and falls to one side, while the rest of his dead body falls to the other side.
"Hell" loudly mutters Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit when he sees what the Vexilian mage in exile has just done.
"Hell is what it'll be like in here if they shoot any of those fire arrows over the wall and into town" says Mira Reinholt the mage.
His fellow council member, the former air sailor from the far east coast of the continent, grunts in agreement with that from the spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil.
As they, and the others along the top of the north wall. Continue to watch the enemy forces attack the town of Gensa.
On this cold, and murky winter's day here in this part of the north of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

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