The Thick Of It 51.

Winter.

With debris from the multiple explosions continuing to rain down, some of it onto the top of the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
Lord Farque says to Tamric Drubine the field commander "We're off". Indicating himself and Mira Reinholt the mage.
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, stands next to the undead warlord.
Then the once powerful mage looks out across the city of Kuradum, and the next moment, he and the large, heavily armoured deathlord disappear.
"You're in charge now Tam" Tamric Drubine the field commander murmurs to himself.
Who then rolls his eyes when he spots Dorc da Orc quickly pick up a hand that's just dropped down out of the sky, and landed on top of the wall.
A hand the large ork hastily stuffs in his mouth, and quickly chews, hoping no one catches him doing so.
Waving dust away from infront of him, Beldane the cleric says to the young field commander in the armies of Farque "Think they'll go where we want them to?".
"I'm hoping so" replies the young noble who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"We'll know soon enough" adds Tamric Drubine, who is more commonly called Tam by the others in the group.
Looking out at what's basically a wall of dust and debris that's yet to settle down.
Field commander Drubine glances at the fighting cleric as he gestures at the falling debris, and asks him "Think you can".
"I can't" says Beldane the cleric as he interrupts the young field commander, who is one of the senior officers in the armies of Farque.
"Even as powerful as i am" continues the cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine, a god predominantly worshiped in the north of his homeland, the kingdom of Nastell.
"It'll take a lot of effort to bring up a strong wind to clear all that" adds Beldane, who follows that with "Especially on such a still day like today".
The son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Looks over at his lover, Saanea the witch. Who nods her head in agreement with her fellow spellcaster, the fighting cleric.
Then Tam, and the others looks at Dorc da Orc who says "They fucken moving".
The large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque continues on with "Some of 'em fucken cunts are".
"Which way Dorc?" quickly asks the young field commander in the armies of Farque.
"Not north" is the reply of the ork warleader who waves a large, skillet sized hand away to the left, or east.
"That's good" murmurs field commander Drubine, who then looks in that direction along the top of the wall.
As calls come from those defenders, in the gaps between the gates, where there's little in the way of debris falling back down from the multiple explosions that have destroyed the three bridges on this side of the city.
Saying that some of the enemy army are veering away to the east. As there's another bridge across the river in that direction, just under a mile from the city walls.
And now that's the only spot easily accessible to the city, for those coming from the south, such as the rebel army that's loyal to the self styled duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
"It'll take a bit of time for them to go out east, and attack that wall" says the young Sarcrian born noble.
"Even so, they'll still attempt to cross the river and attack this wall here" adds the senior officer in the armies of Farque, who follows that with "And that's without the bridges".
As the south wall is by far the weakest of the city's walls. As are it's three large gates.
That are still intact after the series of explosions that destroyed the three bridges on this side of the capital city of Kuradum.
"Tis true it is" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic who basically speaks up for the first time this morning.
Then gesturing at the catapult next to the group, the large heavily armoured knight says "Best these chaps keep firing at them, wot".
The nobleborn knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, continues with "As that lot down there are doing, wot".
As he gestures across the square behind them, at the far end of it is one of the trebuchets, which flings another boulder up and out of the city.
Going over the wall, and through the dissipating cloud of dust and debris, on this cold, winter's morning.
As it tumbles through the air, to land amongst the rear of the enemy army that's attacking the city of Kuradum.
Tamric Drubine calls out the order to the catapults, as well as the archers and crossbowmen.
To resume firing at the enemy forces, as the cloud of debris and dust has finally settled down.
Allowing those on top of the south wall of Kuradum. To see what's happened to the bridges. Or what's left of them.
Which is pretty much nothing. As even the bases of the three bridges have been destroyed.
After looking down into the river, where hundreds of bodies lie floating, as well as chunks of debris, that are remnants of the bridges.
Field commander Drubine looks at the enemy army. And sees that maybe five or six hundred have broken off, and headed east.
While the others, look like they're going to try and cross the river that flows along the south wall of the city.
"Be good if more of them went east" murmurs the young noble who was originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Not north" loudly mutters Dorc da Orc who overheard that, though the ork warleader does grunt in agreement with the young field commander.
"You want me to?" asks Beldane the cleric as there's now just a sprinkling of dust in the air from the multiple explosions that destroyed the three bridges on this side of the city.
"No" says Tam, who follows on from that with "We need as many of them over on the east".
"Not north" mutters a disgruntled sounding Dorc da Orc.
"Side, when we do that" continues field commander Drubine referring to something they plan to do against the enemy army.
The Sarcrin born noble who can now see the progress of the enemy, watches them for a moment or two.
Then he steps over and quietly discusses something with the ork general.
After he does, the young field commander in the armies of Farque turns to a nearby signalman and tells him "Have the war engineer Tovis change targets".
As Tam continues to speak with the signalman about orders he wants relayed to the captain in the engineering corp.
Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit says to no one in particular "Good thing those councilmen were off the wall when Mira blew up those bridges".
"Think they'll be a little annoyed with that?" asks Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as he reloads his crossbow.
As the enemy are once again in range, though none have tempted to get in the water.
"They'll definitely be annoyed with that" says the halfling who is from the Sultanate of Dreese, a nation that's on the far east coast of the continent.
The hobbit, a former air sailor who served in the Sultan of Dreese's fleet, then dryly adds "Good thing we didn't tell them a lot of things we're actually going to do, they'll be annoyed as hell if they knew".
The spy Tanith who is standing on one side of the halfling, and Shur Kee the monk, who is standing on the otherside.
Both nod in agreement with the hobbit who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Just then, one of the trebuchets flings off another shot. The first one since the nearby signalman relayed the new orders of field commander Drubine.
The arc of the shot is much higher, and passes way above the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
The shot being higher, makes it's range much shorter. And the loose netting, which is full of rocks and large chunks of broken masonry.
Drop down upon the front ranks of the enemy, those on the river's edge, and just behind them.
"You got anything?" Beldane the cleric asks his fellow spellcaster, Saanea the witch.
The pretty looking practitioner of magic, who hails from the Maldin Hills, which is out towards the coast of the Southlands.
Is standing there with her eyes closed, as she looks through the eyes of her familiar.
Which at this time, is in the air, this cold winter's morning in the capital of the city-state of Kuradum.
It's in the sky, flying above the southern army of the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
"Nothing" says Saanea the witch in reply to the fighting cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine.
As another of the trebuchets down in the streets of the poor quarter flings a shot over the wall.
And the first, then second catapult, here on top of the wall, above the middle gate in the city's south wall hurl shots at the enemy army.
The witch says to the powerful spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell "I guess they're hiding themselves after that first one sent that fireball our way".
Saanea, who is the lover of Tamric Drubine, dryly adds "Getting attacked by Mira would do that i guess".
And though Beldane the cleric chuckles, he's in agreement with the witch from the Maldin Hills.
As the handful of spellcasters in the rebel army, are keeping a low profile after one of their number was killed by a devastating lightning bolt cast by Mira Reinholt the mage a little earlier.
Standing next to field commander Drubine, and general Dorc, Lisell Maera the scout says "Looks like they're trying to bring those siege towers forward quickly".
The ork weaponsmith just grunts at that, while the young field commander in the armies of Farque nods.
"They'll have a hell of a time trying to get those through the water to the wall" adds the attractive looking scout who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
"And even if they do, those towers once in the river, will be too short to reach the top of the wall" continues Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group.
"They will be too short won't they?" asks the scout Maera as she looks at the young field commander, and the warleader of the ork race.
Though Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle, which is his given name, just grunts in reply to Lis.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Does have a pronounced scowl upon his broad, green, feral looking face as he watches a couple of the enemy siege towers being wheeled forward.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands. Who grew up in the poor neighbourhoods of the city of Brattonbury.
Where her mother was a street prostitute, and her father. A man she never met, or knew. Was a sailor, who plied his trade upon the Great Western Ocean.
Looks at the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who she basically grew up with since her adolescent years.
"Maybe" says the senior officer in the armies of Farque, who follows that with "The top of those towers might not be able to reach the top of the wall".
Tamric Drubine briefly pauses as the catapult next to them, which has been quickly reloaded.
Launches away four barrels tied together, that are alight, at the rebel army.
As the barrels of burning pitch and naphtha land amongst the enemy soldiers directly opposite the middle gate in the wall.
The Sarcrinian noble then says "They don't have far to climb up to reach the top of the wall".
"That could be bit of a problem" loudly mutters the attractive young woman originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
The large ork grunts in agreement with that, while the young field commander nods.
For though things are kind of going as they've planned so far. The enemy does have one major advantage over them. And that's sheer numbers.
As the defenders along the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum. Are vastly outnumbered by councilman Hirrye's southern army.
"All we can do is keep taking out as many of them as we can" says Tamric Drubine.
"And with that, more and more of them going over to the east side of the city" continues the young field commander, who quickly adds "I mean not north". As Dorkindle was just about to say that.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then he says "We gonna have a fucken fight on our hands".
Dorc da Orc then adds "No matter what the cunts do, we gonna have to tough it the fuck out".
The ork warleader who is a general in the armies of Farque, follows that with "If we gonna fuck 'em up and beat 'em" . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 50.

Winter.

The trebuchets down on the streets behind the south wall of the city of Kuradum start firing.
Shots of boulders, as well as rocks and burning barrels in loose nets go flying over the wall, and head for the enemy army.
They land towards the rear of the rebel army that's just to the south of the capital of Kuradum.
Aiming for the enemy siege engines, such as towers and catapults, that are yet to be moved forward towards the front.
Some hit, striking siege towers. One of which shatters apart when it's squarely hit by a large boulder.
And another goes up in flames when a number of burning barrels full of a mix of pitch and naphtha strikes it.
While others miss their exact targets. And instead hit the nearby enemy who are close to the siege engines at the rear of the rebel army.
The worst example of this is rocks flung from one of the trebuchets just behind the city's south wall.
Rip out of the loose netting they're contained in. And rain down upon a number of the enemy infront of one of the catapults.
Those that are killed instantly are the fortune ones. As rocks hit the ground, and bounce for a bit. Hitting legs, arms, sternums, heads. Badly injuring more than those killed outright.
As trebuchet load after trebuchet load is flung over the south wall of the city at the rear of the enemy army.
It creates the inevitable, and the southern rebel army of the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
Charges forward to attack the capital city on this cold, winter's morning in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
Zam the ex mercenary watches the path of a load of burning barrels launched from one of the trebuchets go flying up and over the south wall of the city.
And head out through the early morning sky, and land amongst the rear of the enemy army. The enemy army that's now charging towards the capital city of Kuradum.
Archers with longbows start shooting at the enemy. While a nearby Farqian officer calls out to the other archers and crossbowmen to wait until the enemy get within range.
The teenager who grew up in the neighbourhoods just behind the south wall of the city.
Looks away to his left, here on the top of the wall. And he sees the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum, and their assistants.
Being ushered towards the nearest set of steps, and down off the south wall of the capital city.
The ex mercenary goes back to looking at the enemy army who are rushing towards the city of Kuradum this cold winter's morning.
The front ranks of whom, are now in range of the rest of the archers and the crossbowmen.
Zam sees scores of the enemy drop, some are killed instantly. While others are wounded, and fall to the ground.
Where most of them are killed, as they're trampled to death by the ranks behind them.
A lucky few, are picked up and hauled away before they're trampled to death by those ranks following the ones in the lead.
As the catapults upon the top of the city's south wall, start firing at the rebel army.
Zam sees what's predicted, the enemy fracturing as they advance. Which is the only thing they really can do.
Their advance turns into three clear points, as they head towards the three bridges here on the south side of the city.
The teenager from here in the capital city of Kuradum, slightly turns his head, and nods in response to Mira Reinholt the mage walking by and saying to him "Keep low when they get closer Zam".
The spellcaster all in black, heads to the nearby catapult here above the middle of three gates in the south wall.
There, Dorc da Orc as well as Lisell Maera the scout, and sir Percavelle Lé Dic are standing watching the advancing enemy on this cold winter's morning.
The youngest member of the group, not to mention the newest member of the group.
Goes back to watching the rebel army who have come up from southern Kuradum to attack the capital city.
The ex mercenary winces when he sees a boulder flung from one of the trebuchets. Land in the midst of the advancing army.
It doesn't exactly land, it smashes into some of the enemy soldiers. And it's momentum carries it onwards. Where it rolls into others who unsuccessfully try to avoid the boulder.
Then Zam ducks down as enemy arrows start heading up to the top of the wall.
The Kuradian teenager looks along the wall in both directions, and sees others have ducked down beneath the crenalations on the top of the wall.
The ex mercenary also sees lord Farque, along with Tamric Drubine the field commander, Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy. As well as Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, and Shur Kee the monk heading this way. They're followed by Saanea the witch, and Beldane the cleric.
Zam sees no sign of Helbe the elven thief anywhere. Though he's not surprised at that. As the elven magic user is often invisible. Or just somewhere else.
As he passes the ex mercenary crouching behind a crenalation, lord Farque says "Come along Zam".
The teenager who was born and grew up here in the poor quarter of the city of Kuradum.
Nods and gets up, and gets inline next to Shur Kee the monk. As they head towards the rest of the group beside the nearby catapult.
"Did you tell them?" asks lord Farque once the group minus Helbe the elven thief gather next to one of the two catapults above the middle gate in the city's south wall.
"I did" is the reply of Mira Reinholt the mage, as he moves to stand beside the undead warlord.
"Mira and myself will be elsewhere in a little bit" says the large, heavily armoured deathlord, who continues with "Tam will be in command as we discussed earlier".
The others with the exception of Dorc da Orc who isn't paying attention, nod to that.
Then the lord and ruler of the lands Farque steps over to the ork warleader, who is watching the crew manning the catapult.
The lord of the death realm, who has the name of Draugadrottin that the people of his lands of Farque also know him by. Starts speaking to Dorc da Orc in orkish.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world frowns as he listens to the undead warlord.
The large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque, occasionally grunts in response to what the lord of the death realm is telling him.
Not knowing all that's going on, Zam the ex mercenary asks Mira Reinholt the mage "When are you actually going?".
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, his homeland that he's in exile from.
Glances at the enemy, many of whom have reached the edge of the river that flows along the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
"In a little bit" replies the mage who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
The Kuradian teenager goes to ask him something else, but the mage Reinholt shakes his hooded head.
The ex mercenary can only stand there behind the catapult, wondering what's about to happen.
As he knows that lord Farque had Mira Reinholt along with Helbe the elven thief leave some nasty surprises for the enemy. What exactly, he's not sure.
"They've reached the bridges" says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who follows that with "They're bringing up battering rams".
Lord Farque who is still talking to Dorc da Orc in orkish about something.
Just nods his full helmed head in response to what the young noble from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin just said.
While Mira Reinholt, slightly nods his hooded head when the young field commander in the armies of Farque looks his way,
Then the spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell that he accidentally cast a number of years ago.
Quietly says to Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group "We'll wait until as many as them, are able to get onto them".
Zam looks out at the enemy, and spots those with scaling ladders coming through advancing ranks.
As scores and scores of them continue to drop dead, or severely injured.
By trebuchet and catapults shots, as well as the archers and crossbowmen on top of the south wall of the capital of Kuradum.
On what's a cold, though fairly clear and sunny winter's morning here in the area of the city-state of Kuradum. After the city experienced a light snowfall during the night.
Zam sees that Dorc da Orc is now speaking in his native language to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
As they do, both Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy and Lisell Maera the scout, shoot bolts from their crossbows down at the enemy soldiers.
"Any reason you haven't cast anything at them yet?" quietly asks Zam the ex mercenary, who looks at Beldane the cleric, then Saanea the witch and finally Mira Reinholt the mage.
"A number of reasons" replies Beldane the cleric, who then along with his fellow spellcasters, the Vexilian mage in exile, and the attractive witch from the Maldin Hills.
Quickly look over at lord Farque, who says to them "Spell" followed by "Coming this way".
The practitioners of magic all sense it at the same time, a fireball that shoots up from the middle of the rebel army, heading towards the pair of catapults above the middle gate in the south wall of the city.
Beldane the cleric, and Saanea slam up wards, both barrier spells. Along the top of the wall, above the middle gate.
While Mira Reinholt, being a mage, a naturally aggressive spellcaster. Is more combative than the witch and the cleric.
So he quickly casts an attacking spell, and not a defensive one like his fellow practitioners of magic.
"That's why" dryly says Beldane the cleric to Zam the ex mercenary, after a bolt of lightning shoots down out the clear morning sky.
A bolt of lightning accompanied by a crack of thunder that reverberates not only across the battle, but across the entire city.
A bolt of lightning that strikes in the center of the enemy army, right where the fireball came from.
A fireball that splatters liquid fire harmlessly across the wards that Saanea the witch and Beldane the cleric have erected.
Harmlessly to the defenders, not so much for some of the rebels down on the bridge, that goes directly to the middle gates in the wall.
As liquid fire rains down upon some of them on the bridge, at the gates, waiting for one of the battering rams to be brought forward.
"Battle magic is fraught with danger" explains the fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell, who continues with "If you cast first, you immediately become a target".
"So i see" says the Kuradian teenager who figures the enemy spellcaster didn't survive the direct hit from the bolt of lightning.
Then lord Farque, who has finished speaking with Dorc da Orc, looks down at the enemy, then over to the mage Reinholt, and says "Mira".
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, looks down at the enemy too.
And sees that though they're continually dropping. They've packed the bridge down below.
The once powerful mage looks away to the east and the west, and sees the two other bridges are in a similar state.
Infact the one to the east, the gates are already being hit with a battering ram they've brought forward.
The once powerful mage looks over at the undead warlord, and nods his hooded head.
"Give the order Tam" says Draugadrottin to the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Yes my lord" says field commander Drubine, who then starts shouting out orders, which are relayed and repeated along the length of the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
Everyone on top of the wall start ducking down beneath the crenalations.
As they do, the spellcaster originally from the city-state of Vexil, who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, creates a mageglobe.
"Surprise" quietly says Mira Reinholt as he crouches there, and closes his hand over the mageglobe he's holding.
Essentially squeezing it, until it disappears as it comes to the end of it's existence.
When it does, it activates the mageglobes the mage Reinholt created yesterday morning, and with the help of Helbe the elven thief.
Hid in the three bridges that cross the river that runs along the south side of the capital city.
Mageglobes that basically wake up, and quickly end their own existence. In doing so, they explode. A half a dozen of them in each of the bridges.
So eighteen of the living pieces of magic come to the end of their existence in spectacular fashion.
The three bridges that cross the river explode in typical mage fashion. Ripping apart all upon them, sending debris flying everywhere, predominantly straight upwards.
There must be a couple hundred, nearly three hundred enemy soldiers on each bridge.
They're all decimated as the explosions rip them, and the bridges apart.
Explosions so powerful, that even the bases of the bridges are ripped up and out from the devastation wrought by the living pieces of magic coming to the end of their lives.
And debris clouds mushroom up into the fairly clear morning sky this winter's day, mixed with a fair bit of water too.
As the three bridges on the south side of the city of Kuradum, are utterly destroyed forever . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 49.

Winter.

"Looks like that one's still alive Dorc" says Lisell Maera the scout with a nod of her head to where the latest has landed.
"His arms and legs are still moving" adds the attractive young woman who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
"Nah he dead" says Dorc da Orc, who continues with "The cunt just don't know it yet".
As they watch the body across on the otherside of the river, trying to move on the ground. Until it finally goes still.
"See" says the ork warleader, who grins as he adds "He dead".
The large ork goes to tell the Farqian soldiers who are manning the catapult to wind it back.
When he notices that the last one was the last of the prisoners, and there's no more left.
"Fuck" mutters the ork weaponsmith, who continues muttering with "No more of them cunts left".
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group, rolls her eyes.
While on the otherside of the catapult, sir Percavelle Lé Dic sourly smiles as he looks at the ork general who is his bitter rival.
Looking along the top of the south wall of the city of Kuradum, Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, says "What's that cunts problem?".
As further along the top of the wall, one of the members of the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum, is vomiting.
"That last one was his assistant" explains the scout Maera, who follows that with "Nahor was his name".
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts, then he says "Now he no more, instead of Nahor".
As the warleader of the ork race chuckles at his own joke.
The attractive young woman in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Looks out at the enemy who are to the south of the city of Kuradum. Easier to see now that the sun is rising in the east, on what's another cold winter's day here in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
The enemy army, that according to what Helbe the elven thief learnt just before dawn, was to attack the city at first light.
An attack that's been delayed, due to the fourteen spies and informants, lying dead on the ground on the otherside of the river.
Spies and informants of councilman Hirrye, who were captured in the night.
And this morning were flung to their deaths off the top of the south wall of the city.
From one of the catapults, crewed by black clad Farqian soldiers, under the direction of Dorc da Orc.
"Looks like they're going to retrieve the bodies" says Lisell Maera the scout.
As soldiers loyal to the rebel leader, councilman Hirrye. Hurry forward to take away the dead bodies strewn across the ground.
Both the scout Maera and Dorkindle, along with sir Percavelle Lé Dic, look along the wall to see what lord Farque orders.
"Have the archers and crossbowmen shoot that lot trying to retrieve the bodies" says lord Farque to Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"The more we can delay the attack the better" adds the undead warlord who is in command of the Kuradian ruling council's war effort against the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
"Yes my lord" says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who turns and relays that order to some of his officers.
As he does, the large, heavily armoured deathlord turns to the members of his personal council, and tells him "That Hirrye is up to something not being with this lot here".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque continues with "I've sensed as far as i can in all directions, and can't locate that sorceress anywhere".
Looking at Helbe the elven thief, to be exact the right shoulder of the highly talented elven magic user, the lord of the death realm says in the language of the ground pixies "Can you?".
"Nothing within twenty five miles of the city" says Narladene the ground pixie in the same language.
The naturally magical creature who is the only other one apart from the undead warlord able to sense magic at such long distances, then says "Just that the handful they've got in their army".
The deathlord of Farque nods his full helmed head in agreement with that as the archers and crossbowmen start shooting at the enemy trying to retrieve the bodies of the traitors and spies.
Then the undead being, who has the name of Draugadrottin that the people of his lands also know him by, says in the elven language to his personal council "With that sorceress he's got with him, they could launch an attack in the middle of the city through a rift".
Looking at the spellcasters Mira Reinholt the mage and Helbe the elven thief in particular, he adds"Keep alert for that".
The undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer, continues with "Spread the word amongst the other spellcasters to keep an eye out for something like that".
Then the large, heavily armoured deathlord looks out at the enemy army to the south of the city.
Who are much easier to see to all on the south wall of the city, now that the sun is rising in the east.
On what's a cold winter's morning here in this area of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Wonder when they'll break and attack?" muses Draugadrottin, who suspects the death of general Ukaj, has thrown the command structure of the enemy into disarray.
Even though councilman Hirrye yesterday morning, gave the entire army the order to attack the city of Kuradum at first light today.
Looking along the wall, Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit quietly says "Should we get them off the top of the wall?". As he nods in the direction of the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Let them stay for now" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "They can fuck off when the fighting starts in earnest".
The undead warlord pauses for a moment as he suddenly thinks of something.
Then the lord of the death realm gestures for his personal council and field commander Drubine to come in close so that he can quietly explain something to them.
As Lisell Maera shoots off a bolt from her crossbow, that takes an enemy soldier across the river in the side, as he helps to carry away one of the traitors that Dorc da Orc sent flying from the top of the wall, using the catapult to do so.
The large ork is scowling as he looks along the top of the wall, to where lord Farque and some of the others in the group.
Namely Mira Reinholt the mage, Helbe the elven thief, Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, and Tamric Drubine the field commander.
Are close together, quietly discussing something in the elven language, which the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, doesn't understand.
"What the fuck them cunts talkin' 'bout" loudly mutters Dorc da Orc in his native language.
"What was that Dorc?" asks Lisell Maera the scout, who follows that with "You know I've got no idea what you're saying when you mutter away in orkish like that".
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, who is in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Wouldn't normally bother with what the large ork is muttering about. But when it comes to warfare, and in particular a battle, she's more than interested in what the ork warleader is going on about.
"Huh?" says Dorkindle in the common language, who continues on with "Oh, fucken nothing".
The scout Maera, with a wry twist to her lips, just looks at the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
The ork who is a general in the armies of Farque, clears his throat, then says "Me just wondering when them cunts gonna attack". As he gestures at the enemy army who are just to the south of the capital city of Kuradum.
"And what they gonna do back" adds the ork warleader who waves to where lord Farque and those who are with him, are on the wall.
Lisell Maera nods in agreement, then says "I suspect something spectacular once that lot finally attack".
The attractive young woman who grew up in the poor districts of the city of Brattonbury.
Whose mother was a street prostitute, and whose father, a man she never met. Was a sailor, who plied his trade on the Great Western Ocean.
Is privy to a lot of the defence of the city of Kuradum. But not all of it. And she knows some of the others in the group.
Particularly the spellcasters Mira Reinholt the mage, and Helbe the elven thief.
Have planned a number of surprises for the rebel army. The bulk of whom are just five hundred yards from the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum.
The scout Maera looks at the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world who is standing to her right, and asks him "Are they in range Dorc?".
"Nah" replies Dorkindle, who pats the catapult beside him as if it was a cat or dog, before adding "Too fucken far".
"What about them?" asks the attractive young woman who is in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, who nods down behind them.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts and turns, and looks down into the streets behind the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
There a number of trebuchets have been set up by both local forces, and Farqian engineers.
"Yeah they in range" says the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
Who is a little surprised the trebuchets haven't begun firing at the enemy army.
The warleader of the ork race then looks back along the top of the wall, to where the lord and ruler of the lands Farque and some of the others in the group are standing, quietly discussing things amongst themselves.
"Understood?" quietly asks lord Farque as he looks at the members of his personal council, as well as field commander Drubine.
"Understood" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, while his fellow councilors Mira Reinholt the mage and Helbe the elven thief, as well as Tamric Drubine the field commander nod in reply to the undead warlord.
"Good" quietly says the large, heavily armoured deathlord, who then looks out at the enemy army to the south of the city of Kuradum.
"Get going" quietly says the lord of the death realm, who then looks at the young field commander in his armies, and tells him "Give the orders".
"Yes my lord" says the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Who turns and makes his way along to the nearest signalman.
While Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, and Helbe the elven thief make their way along the top of the wall.
To where the ruling council of Kuradum, and their assistants, minus Nahor. Are standing, watching the enemy army just to the south of the city.
Meanwhile Mira Reinholt the mage remains by the lord and ruler of the lands Farque. Where the two of them continue to quietly discuss something.
"Looks like they're up to something Dorc" quietly says Lisell Maera the scout.
"Me fucken see" says Dorc da Orc as he watches what's happening along the top of the wall, here above the middle gate in the south wall of the city.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. Who he killed, which was only fair, as she was doing her best to kill him at the time.
Grunts as he sees field commander Drubine stop and speak to one of the Farqian signalmen.
Dorkindle grunts again, and says to the scout Maera "We gonna attack". When he sees the signals given to the nearest Farqian trebuchet crews down in the nearby streets.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world maybe indifferent to a number of things in life.
But when it comes to anything militaristic, especially the armies he's part of.
The ork is especially knowledgeable, which is a surprise to many. As he's pretty ignorant about a lot of things in life.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well, says to the ork general "What was that last signal?" followed by "I didn't catch it properly" she then adds "Was it long?".
The ork weaponsmith grunts, then says "Yeah" followed by "Fucken long".
Dorc da Orc looks at the enemy army, who number about twenty thousand strong.
And he looks towards their rear, before their camp and supply wagons.
The ork general in the armies of Farque nods, then grunts in understanding, and he points something out to Lis, and says to her "There".
On the otherside of the catapult, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who has done his best to ignore his bitter rival, the ork warleader.
Can't help but nod his head in understanding when he hears that last bit from the large ork who has just pointed out something to the scout Maera.
Then Tamric Drubine the field commander walks over. And as the first trebuchet swings, and launches the first load over the south wall of the city at the enemy army.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque, explains to Dorc da Orc, Lisell Maera the scout, and an eavesdropping sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
What's going to happen on this cold, but sunny, winter's morning, here in the capital of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 48.

Winter.

Nahor the assistant to councilman Kolmar wakes up. He blinks as he can't see, and realises something is covering his eyes.
He goes to say something, but there's something stuffed in his mouth.
He groans and tries to sit up, but all he can do is roll onto his side, as his wrists are tied together behind his back.
The assistant to one of the more influential members of the ruling council goes still when he hears voices.
"Ah that one's finally awake" says the first voice, who continues with "What the hell did you do Mira?" followed by "I never thought he'd wake up".
"I've never been good at those kind of spells" dryly says the second voice, who like the first, is vaguely recognisable to the assistant of councilor Kolmar.
Then the first voice says "Bring him with the others".
And Nahor finds himself being grabbed, and lifted up off the ground, a stone floor by the feel of it.
He tries to struggle, but he's shaken by whoever has a hold of him. That he quickly obeys when he's shoved and pushed, and he starts walking.
Not able to see, or hear too well, as the cloth covering his eyes, is wrapped around his ears too.
Nahor can still tell that he goes through a door, and is outside somewhere.
And even with his hearing partly compromised. He can tell he's on a city street somewhere.
As to him, because it's so still and quiet, not to mention quite cold, it feels like it's early in the morning, maybe even before dawn.
He also finds out it might of been snowing, as he almost slips over a couple of times.
And only remains upright due to whoever it is that's holding him steady, on either side of him.
He's brought to a stop, and a voice, different to the two that spoke earlier, says "Steps" followed "Up you go".
Nahor takes a step up and forward, and finds himself heading up a set of steps.
The assistant to councilman Kolmar figures out fairly quickly he's climbing a set of steps on the city walls.
He's climbed up and down them countless times over the years, he easily recognises he's on a set of them.
He's still being held as he climbs them, as his captors don't want to him accidentally fall.
Nahor is soon on the top of the wall, he's turned to the left, and the voice that told him to climb the steps, tells him "Walk".
The assistant to councilman Kolmar does so, and after about twenty paces, he's stopped.
He's turned to his right, and as he's stands there, still being held by the arms.
He hears movement around him, and by the sounds of muffled groans, and muffled words.
Nahor suspects there's others close by in the same predicament as he is.
The assistant to one of the more influential members of the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
Is trying to block out why he's ended up where he's ended up, wherever this is. But he's fairly certain why.
Then Nahor, who the last thing he remembers before waking up a little earlier.
Was standing at the window of his bedroom in his house, after coming home from the council buildings in the early afternoon.
Hears another voice, say obviously an order "Take them off". It's a voice the assistant to councilman Kolmar recognises.
It's the voice of the leader of the mercenary army hired by the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum. It's the voice of lord Farque.
Whatever is tightly covering his head, is taken off. And Nahor blinks, and after a few moments he sees where he is.
He's on top of the south wall of the capital city. And as he thought, it's sometime just before dawn.
And the gloomy light before dawn, as he looks away to the south. He can just make out the rebel army that started arriving late yesterday afternoon, and into the evening.
Nahor looks to his left, and he blinks in surprise. As he sees standing a couple of paces in that direction. The wealthy shipping magnet, Golinmar.
Who like Nahor, has a cloth stuffed into his mouth. And another strip of cloth, wrapped around the face and head, keeping the gag stuffed into the mouth.
Golinmar looks utterly defeated, and is moaning in desperation not even seeing Nahor when he glances his way.
The wealthy shipping magnet, is being held by a pair of black clad, Farqian soldiers who are standing behind him.
Nahor figures there's a pair of them standing behind him, holding his arms too.
The assistant to councilman Kolmar looks beyond Golinmar, and sees a number of others in the same predicament as them.
And though he can't see a lot of them in the gloomy light just before dawn on this cold start to another winter's day.
Nahor does recognise a few of them. And his already dry mouth, that has a cloth stuffed in it, goes even dryer.
Then if the assistant to councilman Kolmar thought he was surprised when he saw the shipping magnet Golinmar standing next to him.
When Nahor looks to his right, he's absolutely shocked at who he sees standing to his right, with a gag in his mouth, wrists tied together behind his back, and being held by a pair of black clad mercenary soldiers from the lands Farque.
Standing to his right, is councilman Hirrye's spy master here in the city of Kuradum.
The most important individual here in the capital city for the rebel leader, who intends to rule Kuradum as it's duke.
The spy master, who looks utterly defeated. Slightly nods when he sees Nahor looking his way.
Then nod away to the south, in the direction of the rebel army that arrived during the night.
There's a faint, but sad smile upon the face of the spy master to the rebel leader, councilman Hirrye.
Nahor tries to gulp, but is unable to due to the gag in his mouth. The assistant to councilman Kolmar has a sinking feeling in his stomach.
As he looks around in the gloomy light before dawn, wondering who else is up here on the top of the south wall of the capital city.
He also wonders what's going to happen to him. Nahor's got a bad feeling that whatever it is, it's not going to be good for him, and the others who are in the same situation as him.
Looking along the wall on this cold winter's morning. Mira Reinholt the mage spots in the gloomy light of pre dawn.
Members of the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum. Who have just come up a nearby set of steps with their assistants.
And though it must be a bit difficult for them to see in the pre dawn light, many of them spot the prisoners, and those that do, are shocked to see who some of them are.
The once powerful mage spots councilman Kolmar, who is utterly flabbergasted when he sees his assistant Nahor.
Standing there, wrists bound behind his back, as he's held by a pair of black clad Farqian soldiers.
Amongst the line of prisoners, who were captured in the city during the night, as the enemy army started arriving just to the south of the capital city.
The mage Reinholt is just going to mention to Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit about councilman Kolmar seeing his assistant.
When lord Farque who is standing next to them, quietly says in the elven language in a slightly dry tone of voice "The royal thief is coming back".
A few moments later and Helbe the elven thief suddenly appears beside the three of them, saying in elven "He's gone".
"Huh?" says Mira Reinholt the mage, while Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit says " What?".
Then the undead warlord says to the highly talented elven magic user "Explain".
"He left them yesterday morning" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"Took his assistant with him, along with that young sorceress, and a bunch of his personal guards" continues the elven masterthief.
"Smart fucker" mutters the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
Both Mira Reinholt and Jarjin Littlefoot nod in agreement with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Then the undead being points and says "Who's that cunt then?".
"A general Ukaj" says Helbe the elven thief with a nod of his hooded at the unconscious figure he's got on his right shoulder.
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel then nods in the direction of the enemy army and adds "He's in command of that lot".
As the elven master assassin shrugs the unconscious enemy general off his shoulder, he says "He has no idea where councilman Hirrye and the others went".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, while the mage Reinholt asks his fellow spellcaster "No one giving orders then now that you captured him?".
"Nah" says the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
"They were given their orders yesterday" continues the elven magic user, who follows that with "They'll be attacking soon, at first light".
"As we thought" says the undead warlord who the people of his lands, also know him by the name of Draugadrottin.
Pointing at the enemy general lying on the top of the wall, the lord of the death realm asks "You get everything useful from him?".
"I did" replies the elven master assassin who thoroughly read the mind of the enemy general just after capturing him a little while ago.
"Good" says the large, heavily armoured deathlord, who then turns and calls out in the ork language "Dorc!" followed by "You can start with this one here".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque after a brief pause, adds "Send him the fuck back".
Nahor the assistant to councilman Kolmar watches as the large ork walks by him and the other prisoners.
He watches as the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Walks over to where lord Farque and some of the other mercenaries are standing, here on the top of the south wall of Kuradum.
Nahor sees the large ork pick up a body from the wall, then head back this way.
When they go by, the assistant to councilman Kolmar gets a good look at who it is that the ork mercenary is carrying tucked under his right arm.
Nahor blinks in surprise when he sees it's general Ukaj. One of councilman Hirrye's military leaders.
On either side of Nahor, both the shipping magnet Golinmar and the spy master, to either side of him.
Are surprised to see an unconscious general Ukaj being carried by the large ork.
Nahor looks quickly around, and it's then that he notices something. There's not a single Kuradian soldier on this stretch of the wall. Infact there's no one who isn't from the Farqian mercenary army. With the exception of the prisoners, and the members of the ruling council and their assistants, who are standing off to one side.
Then Nahor sees the large ork stop at one of the two small catapults here, above the middle gate on the south wall.
He frowns as he wonders what the ork mercenary is up to, as it briefly speaks to the black clad Farqian soldiers who are manning the catapult. Who have the heavy weapon back in the firing position.
It's only when the ork named Dorc places the unconscious general Ukaj into the cup of the catapult. That Nahor realises what the large ork is up to with the rebel general.
The assistant to councilman Kolmar stands there in utter shock when the thunk of the catapult being fired, echoes across this part of the city.
And he watches general Ukaj go flying through the air, off the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
Unfortunately for the general in the rebel army. He wakes up as he goes flying through the gloom of just before dawn.
And his arms and legs are flailing about as he goes flying through the air, until he hits the ground, about eighty yards from the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum.
Landing with a thud, some distance from the front ranks of the rebel army, who are forming up, as they prepare to launch an attack at dawn. On what's another cold winter's morning in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
Nahor who clearly hears the large ork chuckling. Eyes go wide when it turns and looks in this direction.
It's then that Nahor, along with the others who were taken prisoner during the night.
Start screaming behind the gags in their mouths, and try to break free from the Farqian mercenary soldiers, who firmly have a hold of them.
Then the chuckling ork named Dorc, starts walking over to where they're all lined up. Here on top of the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 47.

Winter.

Lisell Maera the scout steps back as another group of refugees hurry by her position at the end of the alleyway.
They're from the surrounding countryside, who over the last few days have made their way into the city.
Now, no more will be coming in. As the city gates, in all four walls, have been closed.
Now that the enemy have been spotted to the south of the capital city of Kuradum.
The attractive young woman originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
Looks up into the sky, as the sun is going down in the west on what's been another cold winter's day in this part of the city-state of Kuradum.
The scout Maera if she was to guess, thinks it might snow later tonight. She'd have to ask one of the others in the group to find out for certain.
In the mean time, Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well.
Goes back to looking across the street to a neighbourhood wine shop. Which is fairly busy, now that it's sunset, and approaching dusk.
After a horse drawn wagon goes by, and a wyvern can be heard flapping it's wings as it passes by overhead in the last of the light this day.
The born and bred Brattonburian, who joined the group as an adolescent.
Looks up and down the street, and spots another member of the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque.
She sees that she's been spotted, and nods in recognition. Before stepping back again.
Lis waits for a bit, and the black clad Farqian soldier, a ranger joins her in the alleyway.
"Definitely in there" quietly says Tomic the ranger who has just returned from circling the wine shop across the street.
"When he leaves?' quietly asks Lisell Maera the scout, who like the Farqian ranger, is speaking elven.
"When he leaves" replies Tomic, who was born in the hill country along the southern border of the lands Farque.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well, nods her head.
Then the attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, quietly says "Now we wait".
"Now we wait" murmurs Tomic the ranger in agreement as they stand in the alleyway, watching the local neighbourhood wine shop across the street.
Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy is on a rooftop, in the north of the city of Kuradum.
It's early evening, with the sun setting a little while ago. And the elven spy who hails from the principality of Alínlae, looks up and down the street below.
The spy Tanith who is a company commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Spots one of his company, making their way along the street below. With the other people who are hurrying home, on what's a cold winter's night here in the capital city of Kuradum.
The Farqian scout without looking up in the direction of the elven spy, makes a discreet hand signal.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Slightly nods to himself when he spots the hand signal, as the Farqian scout continues down the street.
The spy Tanith, who previously served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland, Alínlae.
Looks up the street to his right, to a tavern near the end of the street. The establishment doesn't look too busy. As people are opting to stay at home, now that the rebel army has been spotted to the south of the city.
The company commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque gets up, and makes his way along the roof he's on.
The elven spy in the grey hooded cloak, is almost completely silent as he hops over to the roof to the right.
Dalin continues doing so, going from rooftop to rooftop on this side of the street.
Until he leaps over a lane onto the roof of the building, that's opposite the tavern at the end of the street.
There the elven spy originally from Alínlae hunkers down, wrapping his cloak around him, and wonders how long he'll have to wait before he goes into action.
Mira Reinholt the mage makes his way up a set of stairs, he's in a building, just to the west of the city center.
The once powerful mage makes his way into a hallway on the third floor of the building.
And in the dark, he walks down the hallway, until he gets to the last door on the right.
There the mage from the city-state of Vexil, opens the door, enters the room, and softly closes the door behind him.
"That house over there councilor" quietly says the black clad Farqian soldier standing at the open window.
In response to Mira Reinholt the mage quietly asking him in the elven language "Which one is it?".
Looking at the house in question, the Vexilian spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, nods his black hooded head, and quietly says "I know" and adding "I followed him here".
In reply to the black clad ranger from the lands Farque quietly saying "He's just got home from the council buildings".
The mage Reinholt, as he watches the house across the street, quietly says "Soon".
In response to the ranger from the lands Farque quietly asking him "When councilor?".
Helbe the elven thief drops down upon the roof of one of the more opulent looking homes in the city of Kuradum.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user, who is in one of the wealthiest if not wealthiest neighbourhood in the city's northwest.
Has just made his way from the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who was watching the enemy army starting to show up this evening.
Looks across the treelined street to a three storey house, a manse really. Opposite the opulent looking house that he's on top of, on what's a cold winter's evening here in the city of Kuradum.
As he does, Narladene the ground pixie suddenly appears on his right shoulder, and quietly says to him in the elven language "He's in there as usual".
The naturally magical creature who hails from the Sunreach Mountains, continues with "In his office come study".
The elven master assassin nods his hooded head when the tiny winged creature tells him "If it's like normal, he'll stay in there, late into the night".
Narladene, who attached herself to the elven masterthief a number of years ago then quietly asks him "When will you do it?".
"A little later" is the reply of Helbe the elven thief, who then glances up at the night sky, and wonders if it'll snow later tonight.
It certainly feels like, the highly talented elven magic user thinks to himself as he waits.
Meanwhile, up on the south wall of the city of Kuradum, Dorc da Orc grunts as he watches the enemy army.
The forward elements of the rebel army have arrived, and have set up camp just a little over a thousand yards south of the capital city.
Some of them have come forward, to get a better look of the city, and the ground around it.
So far no one has done anything on either side of the conflict during the early evening.
The large ork looks away further to the south, and sees the bulk of the enemy army in the distance. Most of whom will arrive during the middle of the night.
The warleader of the ork race scowls as he watches them, then he turns and makes his way along the top of the wall.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, who is a general in the armies of Farque, growls.
And Zam the ex mercenary is quick to get out of the way of the ork weaponsmith.
The ork general makes his way to where lord Farque and Tamric Drubine the field commander are discussing something.
"We gonna attack them cunts?" asks Dorc da Orc as he plants himself right infront of the undead warlord, and the young noble who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"We're not" is the reply of lord Farque, who follows that with "At least not tonight any time".
The ork warleader grunts in disappointment, and does so again when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque says "They won't attack us either" followed by "At least not until sometime in the morning".
Field commander Drubine nods in agreement with the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
Who turns away from looking at the enemy away to the south, and instead looks across the city of Kuradum on this cold, winter's night.
"Tonight the action will be in the city" quietly says the undead being who the people of his lands, also know him by the name of Draugadrottin.
Field commander Drubine nods in agreement, and after a few moments, Dorc da Orc grunts in understanding as he recalls what's happening down on the streets of Kuradum this evening.
"There" quietly says Tomic the ranger from the mouth of the alleyway.
"I see it" quietly says Lisell Maera the scout as they watch a horse drawn carriage making it's way up the street.
A carriage that stops infront of the local neighbourhood wine shop across the street.
"Go" murmurs the scout Maera to the black clad Farqian soldier.
Who exits the alleyway, and heads across the street, as the footman from the back of the carriage, makes his way into the wine shop.
After a moment, Lis exits the alleyway too. As she does, and crosses the street.
She keeps an eye out for who the footman will soon escort out of the wine shop.
The individual that she and Tomic the ranger intend to capture this cold, winter's evening in the city of Kuradum.
Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy watches as a disreputable looking drunk is shoved out the front door of the tavern across the street.
The drunk staggers away to one side, until he stumbles and sits down infront of the tavern.
With his back against the front of the tavern, near the front right corner of the building.
The spy Tanith slightly nods his hooded head when he sees the drunk who was recently kicked out of the tavern, quickly flash a few quick hand signals without anyone else noticing.
Dalin crawls backwards from near the front of the roof, before he gets up and makes his way to the edge of the roof.
The spy who hails from the elven principality of Alínlae, crawls over the side of the roof, holding onto the edge of it, before he drops down into the alley without making much of a sound.
The company commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, makes his way to the mouth of the alley.
There he watches the drunk, who is another spy in the armies of Farque, sitting infront of the tavern across the street.
Dalinvardèl Tanith also watches the front door of the same tavern. As he and his fellow spy, wait for their target to make his way out fairly shortly.
Near the center of the city, Mira Reinholt the mage who is watching a nearby house, in one of the more well to do neighbourhoods in the city of Kuradum.
Slightly nods his hooded head, when the Farqian soldier standing with him at the open window, quietly says in the elven language "There councilor".
"I need to see him clearly" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage, who follows that with "He needs to come to that window".
As they watch one of the upstairs rooms in the nearby house this cold winter's evening. A room where a light has just gone on, as a lamp has just been lit.
"Come on" murmurs the once powerful mage as he waits in anticipation.
Then the spellcaster who is in exile from his homeland of Vexil, slightly nods his hooded head in satisfaction.
As he and the Farqian soldier with him, spot a figure in the room they're closely watching, approach the window in that room, which is open.
"Get ready" quietly says the highly talented elven magic user as he prepares to cast a spell.
Meanwhile, in the northwest of the city. In the wealthiest neighbourhood in the capital city of Kuradum.
Helbe the elven thief has made his way from the roof of the opulent looking house, he was on before.
And is now on the roof of the manse he was observing a little earlier on this cold winter's evening across this area of the city-state.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user, waits upon the roof for Narladene the ground pixie to show up again.
It's not too long before the tiny winged creature appears out of thin air onto the right shoulder of the highly talented elven practitioner of magic.
"He's in there, having his dinner" quietly says Narladene the ground pixie into the right ear of the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
The elven master assassin slightly nods his hooded head, then he floats down off the side of the roof.
And the blurred and shielded elven magic user, stops outside of a glass window.
There the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel as he floats, watches the individual sitting behind a wide desk, in a well lit study, who is eating his dinner.
The elven masterthief shares a look with Narladene the ground pixie on his right shoulder.
Then Helbe the elven thief as he floats there, quietly murmurs to the naturally magical creature "Time we caught him".
The ground pixie nods in agreement with the elven princeling she's attached to.
Then she holds onto his right shoulder as she senses the blurred and shielded elven magic user is about to cast another spell as they watch the person sitting behind the large desk in the upstairs study of the manse . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 46.

Winter.

Nahor the assistant to councilman Kolmar finds himself upon the south wall of the capital city Kuradum.
He's with the other assistants to the various councilors, following behind the ruling council who are being given a tour of the defences of the city by commander Tracklen.
Up ahead, the members of the ruling council come to a stop, and Nahor along with the other assistants stop too.
He looks down at the street below, that leads to the middle of the three gates in the south wall of the city.
There a large trebuchet has just been set up by the engineers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Nahor who doesn't particularly know much about warfare, especially war machines.
Wonders how far a trebuchet can fling it's load. He suspects quite a distance considering the size of the heavy weapon.
The assistant to councilman Kolmar moves forward, so that he's right at the front of the assistants, just behind the group of ruling councilors.
Nahor, who is a spy for the rebel forces led by the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
Slightly nods his head as he listens to what commander Tracklen has to say.
Councilman Kolmar's assistant figures any information gleaned here won't be particularly important.
As he guesses the rebel army approaching from the south will more or less know the defences of the city.
He looks to the south, wondering when councilman Hirrye's southern army is going to turn up.
Word is that they might start showing up later today, as that's the rumour Nahor has heard both within the council, and on the streets of the city.
He suspects it's so, as commander Tracklen has ordered that no one can leave the city via the south gates now, or enter it through there as well.
The gates in the other walls of the city remain open to traffic, those either entering the city, or leaving it.
The group gets underway again, walking around one of the smaller catapults up on the top of the south wall of Kuradum.
Then a short time later, they stop again, this time directly above the middle of the three gates in the south wall of the capital city.
As they wait for commander Tracklen to explain a number of things to the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
The assistant to councilman Kolmar looks all around, and he spots a couple of warships.
One from the Kuradum loyalist fleet, and the other belonging to the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
They're passing over the eastern wall of the capital, having come from the east.
Nahor knows that onboard both airships will be soldiers from the loyalist army.
From the east of the city-state, where the main frontlines in the war between the loyalist and rebel forces are located.
As he looks across the city, the assistant to councilman Kolmar can see how busy things are.
As the capital's residents know that councilman Hirrye's forces in the south are marching upon the city of Kuradum.
Infact Nahor has never seen the capital so busy. Especially on a cold winter's day such as today.
Then he looks down off the top of the south wall, and sees a number of people down on the bridge that crosses this section of the river.
"Wonder what they're up to?" quietly muses Nahor the assistant to councilman Kolmar.
As he watches a number of the back clad mercenary soldiers from the lands Farque, are on the bridge at the moment.
"Probably checking the structure of the bridge" quietly says Kiopar, who is the assistant to councilman Porpallion.
Nahor nods his head in agreement with his fellow assistant as he watches those down on the bridge.
Who indeed look like they're inspecting and examining the bridge, probably making sure it's stable before the enemy show up.
That's what it seems like they're doing, infact some of the black clad soldiers from the lands Farque, seem to be inspecting the bridge.
As they have done to the first one away to the east, and what they'll do next to the third bridge here on the south side of the city, a bit later.
But what they're actually doing is something else entirely different. With those who look like they're examining the bridge, are doing so for appearances only.
As they're covering what two of them are actually doing on this, the middle of three bridges that crosses the river along the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum.
"Anymore?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief after he casts another spell.
"One more should do" replies Mira Reinholt the mage as he gets up, after kneeling down to push another mageglobe down into the surface of the bridge.
This one on the far side of the bridge, as the once powerful mage creates another of the living pieces of magic, which appears in his cupped right hand.
They walk to their right, and the mage Reinholt pretends to study the edge of the bridge, as the highly talented elven magic user casts a type of shield spell upon the mageglobe.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel gives a hand signal as Mira Reinholt briefly kneels and pushes his latest creation into the edge of the bridge.
While the Farqian soldiers with them, start making their way off the bridge, and head down to the third bridge further along.
The two spellcasters, members of the personal council to lord Farque, make their way off the bridge too.
As they do, the mage who is from the city-state of Vexil, looks back across the river, and up to the top of the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum.
The mage, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, faintly smiles as he spots amongst those on top of the wall, above the middle gate.
One of the enemy spies, and traitor to the loyalist cause, Nahor the assistant to councilman Kolmar.
"Bet he's wondering what's going on?" quietly says the spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell that he accidentally cast a number of years ago.
"Who?" asks Helbe the elven thief as they walk down to third of the bridges along the south side of the city of Kuradum.
"That spy Nahor" quietly says the mage Reinholt, who like his fellow spellcaster, is speaking in the elven language.
The elven master assassin, who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
Glances away, up to the top of the wall on the otherside of the river, and slightly nods his hooded head when he spots the person that his fellow practitioner of magic has named.
"That traitor doesn't know shit about war" says the elven masterthief who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
"Nothing?" asks the mage who is in exile from his homeland Vexil.
"Nothing" says the elven master archer, who follows that with "Well, i should say next to nothing".
As they follow the black clad Farqian soldiers to the next bridge here on the south side of the capital city.
The highly talented elven magic user quietly says "He just passes information on, not really knowing what it is".
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel continues with "They usually make the best informants".
Mira Reinholt nods his black hooded head at that, and with another glance across the river, and at the person they're discussing, he quietly asks "When are you bringing him and the others in?".
"Later" is the reply of prince Helbenthril Raendril who continues on with "Farque wants them taken when their army is basically knocking at the gates".
The once powerful mage nods his hooded head as they approach the third of the bridges here on the south side of the capital city.
The swordmaster Reinholt then asks his fellow practitioner of magic "Where exactly is their army at the moment?".
"Somewhere south of here" dryly says the youngest member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
The exiled Vexilian mage looks sideways at his fellow councilor and sourly smiles. Which illicits a chuckle from the elven master assassin.
"We'll find out soon enough i suppose" says Helbe the elven thief, as he and his fellow spellcaster make their way onto the third of the bridges that cross the river here on the south side of the city.
As some of the black clad Farqian soldiers, start pretending to examine the bridge closely.
The two members of lord Farque's personal council make their way along the bridge, towards the closed city gates.
Once there, Mira Reinholt starts creating mageglobes, and as the elven magic user casts a spell upon it.
And the once powerful mage crouches down and pushes it into the top of the bridge.
The answer to the question of where the enemy army are is answered. When Narladene the ground pixie suddenly appears, and informs them what she's found.
Nahor the assistant to councilor Kolmar tries to refrain from yawning, as the tour along the city walls is more than a bit boring to him.
He fails, and loudly yawns. Earning him a few sideways looks from his fellow assistants to the ruling council members.
Though Kiopar does quietly chuckle, and murmurs to him "It's boring alright".
The assistant to councilman Kolmar nods his head in agreement, and does so again when the assistant to councilor Porpallion quietly adds "But this is our job, and this is what we do".
As they walk along the top of the wall, heading towards the third and final gate in the south wall of the capital city.
Nahor who though the assistant to one of the most influential members of the ruling council of Kuradum.
Is also a spy for the rebel forces, led by the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
And he knows he wants nothing to do with the upcoming battle for the capital city.
He intends to be far from the south wall of the city when the fighting begins.
Preferably far away from the city, though he knows that will basically be impossible.
As the gates across the city will no doubt be closed once the rebel army come into view of the capital city Kuradum.
They walk by soldiers who have brought up bundles of bolts and arrows.
While others are bringing up baskets full of rocks and broken bits of masonry.
Nahor winces as he imagines rocks and broken masonry dropped from the top of the wall, hitting those trying to get into the city during the inevitable battle.
As up ahead, commander Tracklen and the members of the ruling council of Kuradum.
Come to a stop above the third gate in the south wall of the capital city. Nahor looks away to the south, once again wondering where the rebel army are.
He's just about to respond to Kiopar who has just said to him "One thing i know, is that i don't want to be up here when the fighting starts, that's for sure".
When they hear a shout from further along the wall, one of the lookouts amongst a group of them.
This one looking through a long, brass, cylindrical eyepiece that's on a tripod stand.
"Wonder what it is?" quietly asks Kiopar the assistant to councilman Porpallion.
"The rebels I'm guessing" is the quiet reply from Nahor the assistant to councilman Kolmar.
A runner leaves the group of lookouts when they spot commander Tracklen above the third of the city gates, here on the south wall of the capital of Kuradum.
Both Nahor and Kiopar try to get closer to hear what the runner has to say to the commander of the army loyal to the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
They don't hear all of the conversation, but they do hear that advanced enemy elements have been spotted, about eight miles south of the capital city.
"Their scouts?" quietly asks Kiopar to his fellow assistant to the councilors who rule the city-state.
"I'd say so" is the quiet reply from the spy for the rebel forces led by the self styled duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
"They'll start arriving this afternoon" continues Nahor, who follows that up with "And the bulk of their army will start showing up later" he then adds "Probably during the night".
Next to him, Kiopar nods in agreement as they look away to the south.
As there's a buzz of chatter from their fellow assistants, and the members of the ruling council.
Now that the first of the enemy have been sighted away to the south of the capital city of Kuradum.
Commander Tracklen ends the tour of the city defences, and hurries away with his adjunctant Morris.
While the ruling council, along with their assistants, make their way to the nearest set of steps, as they start heading back to the council buildings in the middle of the city.
Nahor, the assistant to councilman Kolmar, is the last of the group to go down the steps.
Before he does, he takes one last look away to the south, on what's a cold winter's day here in the capital.
And he faintly smiles in satisfaction, knowing that his fellow rebels will be in view of the city walls later this afternoon.
And that the battle for the capital city of Kuradum will begin sometime during the night, or early tomorrow morning.
Nahor hurries down the steps after the others, figuring out what he'll do, and more importantly, where he'll be once the fighting starts . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 45.

Winter.

They walk along the top of the south wall of the city of Kuradum. With lord Farque occasionally stopping to check the top of the wall, and to look away to the south.
The whole group is with the undead warlord this morning. Along with the loyalist officers, commander Tracklen, and the adjunctant Morris.
The loyalist army commander, who has been buoyed since yesterday morning.
When the hit and run attack upon one of the enemy supply lines in the south, that his adjunctant took part of.
Nods his head, then says "I do" followed by "It's because the south wall, is the weakest wall in the city".
In reply to lord Farque asking him "Do you know why they're attacking from the south in force?".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord nods his full helmed head to that response from the senior most officer in the army loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
Then the lord and ruler of the lands Farque comes to a stop again, forcing the others behind him and commander Tracklen to a stop as well.
The lord of the death realm looks directly down from the top of the wall, at one of the three bridges below.
That cross the river that runs along the south side of the capital city of Kuradum.
The deathlord of Farque, who also goes by the name of Draugadrottin, that the people of his lands know him by.
Has informed the group of the plans to defend the city of Kuradum, from the rebel enemy army, that's coming up from the south.
But he's yet to inform the loyalist army commander, or for that matter, anyone else in the loyalist army, and the ruling council.
It's the reason for the early morning walk of the walls of the city. The undead warlord is now telling commander Tracklen of those plans now. Well, at least most of them.
"Since the south wall is the weakest" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "Then that's the one we want them to attack".
He briefly pauses, before adding "Thankfully that's what they intend to do".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord then looks away to the left, to the east, as the sun rises on what's a cold, though still, winter's morning so far.
"We'll  want them to eventually attack from the east side of the city" says Draugadrottin.
Both the loyalist army commander and his adjunctant, nod to that. As the east wall of the capital, with just it's one gate. Is the strongest wall of the city by far.
"But first we're going to do this" states the lord and ruler of the lands Farque as he turns and looks to the south again.
The lord of the death realm, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
Looks down off the top of the wall, and points down as he tells the two loyalist officers "First we'll start of with that".
As the undead warlord discusses the defence of the city of Kuradum with commander Tracklen and the adjunctant Morris.
Zam the ex mercenary yawns, as he's still getting accustomed to these early morning starts.
True, when he was mercenary living and working in the City of Ruins. He'd wake early every now and again.
Though nothing in comparison to the group he's with now. Who are up before dawn nearly every day. No matter where they are.
As he looks away to the south, the teenager who was born, and grew up here in the city of Kuradum.
And wonders when the enemy will show up on the horizon to the south.
Hears someone else yawn next to him. He glances down to find Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit.
Looking bleary eyed and tired first thing this morning. On what's a cold start to another winter's day.
"Wishing they'd just show up?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit as he leans against the crenalation next to the Kuradian ex mercenary.
"I do" is the quiet reply of Zam the ex mercenary, who just wishes the rebel army coming up from the south would just get here.
The halfling, who hails from the Sultanate of Dreese, which lies on the far east coast of the continent.
Nods his head, then quietly says "I understand" he briefly pauses before continuing on with "But trust me, the longer they take to get here, the better".
The hobbit, who is a former air sailor, who was part of the Sultan of Dreese's fleet, then says "Who knows?" followed by "With the way they've been bogged down so often, they could be another three days or so".
In response to Zam the ex mercenary asking him "Any idea how long it'll take before they get here?".
Then the halfling, who isn't exactly what he seems, quietly tells the Kuradian teenager who is the newest member of the group "Though lord Farque thinks they'll start showing up sometime tomorrow".
Zam nods to that, then following the hobbit who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, he sits down on the top of the wall, with his back to one of the crenalations.
"What's that?" quietly asks the ex mercenary when he hears a metallic thunk from the halfling as he sits down.
"Oh just this" says councilor Littlefoot, who opens his cloak to one side, to reveal what he's got on a sling beneath it.
"It's a mage canister" quietly says the former air sailor in response to the inquiring look from the teenager who grew up here in the city of Kuradum.
Zam nods, as he's heard of mage canisters. As they were considered a rarity, and a more than valuable find if one was found in the City of Ruins.
"What's in it?" asks the ex mercenary who knows that a mage canister holds a spell within it.
"Don't know" is the reply from the halfling who isn't what he appears to be.
The hobbit, who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Jarjin Littlefoot.
Tells the ex mercenary "Mira bought it and gave it to me" followed by "He has no idea what's in it".
The halfling who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Who has asked the three other spellcasters in the group. Helbe the elven thief, Beldane the cleric and Saanea the witch.
As to what's in the mage canister, only to be told they have no idea as well.
Looks along the top of the wall, to where lord Farque is standing with the loyalist army commander, discussing the defence of the city of Kuradum, and quietly says "I should really ask lord Farque what's in it".
Zam's eyebrows shoot up when he hears that. As he wonders how the lord and ruler of the lands Farque would know what's in the mage canister.
The ex mercenary, who has yet to be told what lord Farque actually is. Does know that the leader of the group isn't like any other human he's ever heard of. He just doesn't know why.
And the rest of the members of the group, with the exception of Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who don't exactly know themselves.
Aren't willing to tell the ex mercenary who, and more importantly, what the lord and ruler of the lands Farque exactly is.
"Never been in anything like this" says the teenager, who grew up down below, in the south quarter of Kuradum, the poor quarter.
"Well, apart from what we did earlier in the week up in Gensa" adds the ex mercenary who joined the group back in the autumn.
"Won't exactly be like that" says Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who continues with "For starters this will be a hell of lot bigger, not to mention the citizens will still be in the city, unlike what we did up in Gensa".
Zam the ex mercenary nods to that, then does so again, when the halfling former air sailor quietly tells him "Just stay close to the others, and you'll be fine".
The member of lord Farque's personal council briefly pauses before he adds "Though don't stay close to Dorc or Percy".
The hobbit from the far east coast of the continent then dryly says "Speaking from experience, you might end up dead if you're too close to those two lunatics during battle".
The Kuradian teenager frowns as he wonders what councilor Littlefoot means by, speaking from experience?
The ex mercenary who is looking towards the neighbourhood where he grew up in the poor quarter.
Goes to ask the hobbit from the Sultanate of Dreese what he means by that.
When Jarjin Littlefoot tells him "Come on, we're on the move again". And gets up, as lord Farque has resumed his walk along the top of the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum.
Commander Tracklen of the loyalist army walks in silence beside lord Farque as they continue along the top of the wall.
The senior most officer in the army loyal to the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum is in shock after hearing of the plans the lord and ruler of the lands Farque has for the defence of the capital.
The local army commander would have a fit if he knew of the full plans the undead warlord has for the defence of the city of Kuradum.
Even so, what he's learnt so far this morning, on what's a cold, but still start to another winter's day. Is shocking enough as it is.
Commander Tracklen suspects that the ruling council won't be happy with this at all, and he voices this to the large, heavily armoured figure walking beside him.
"The council won't be happy with this at all my lord" quietly says commander Tracklen.
"That's their problem" says lord Farque, who after a brief pause adds "They only need to know, what's appropriate".
Glancing down at the senior loyalist officer walking beside him, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque quietly tells him "I'd advise you tell them the bare minimum".
Draugadrottin follows that with "They'll be glad we defeat the enemy, they won't care afterwards how we achieve that".
The loyalist army commander nods his head in agreement with that, though he's dreading what the council will think after they're victorious.
That's if we're victorious, commander Tracklen thinks to himself, who then gestures over the top of the wall, as they approach the middle of the three gates in the south wall of the city of Kuradum, and he says "Is it appropriate to".
"It is" says the lord of the death realm as he interrupts the local army commander.
"The best way to go about a battle, or for that matter a war" explains the undead warlord, who continues with "Is to think of the end result, and not necessarily about how you'll achieve it".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord then quietly adds "And to achieve it, is to do anything necessary".
Lord Farque nods his full helmed head down in the direction of the otherside of the wall, and says "And that includes using them".
Commander Tracklen nods at that, and does so again when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque adds "Things can be rebuilt, people can't".
Even though he has reservations with the mercenary leader's plans, a lot of reservations to put it bluntly.
The commander of the loyalist army is agreement that the conflict for control of the city-state of Kuradum.
Will be won or lost here in the capital city. And to win, those who are loyal to the ruling council. And those they're paying to fight on their behalf.
Have to do whatever is necessary to bring about a victory against the forces of the rebel army. Who are led by the self styled duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
They stop again, this time above the middle of the three gates in the south wall of the capital city.
Commander Tracklen looks at the southern neighbourhoods of the city, the part of the capital where he grew up.
Then he turns and looks down over the top of the wall, and watches those either entering the city, or leaving it, first thing this morning.
The senior most officer in the army loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, tries not to grimace as he watches those down below, crossing the bridge that goes over this section of the river, that flows along the southern wall of Kuradum.
"Hell" mutters commander Tracklen as he contemplates what lord Farque has in store for the enemy when they show up to the capital city within the next couple of days . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 44.

Winter.

The adjunctant Morris is scrambling on his armour and cloak as he follows the foreign mercenary out the door.
"Our scouts have been out, and they've found that the enemy has made a major mistake" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as they cross the marshalling yard.
"The one's coming up from the south?" asks the adjunctant Morris, who has finally got on all his armour, and is now putting on his cloak.
The elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more important noble houses of his homeland, nods his hooded head yes.
"They've been bogged down on the main road down there for the last few days so much" explains the spy Tanith who is a company commander in the armies of Farque.
"That they've put a lot of the following supply wagons, and siege engines on the lesser used roads down there" continues Dalinvardèl Tanith who is more commonly called Dalin by those who know him well.
The elven spy briefly pauses before he adds "Without much of their forces protecting them, or if any at all".
The adjunctant to commander Tracklen almost trips over hearing that, but he keeps his feet, then says "Why the hell would they do that?".
"Complacency, arrogance, all manner of things" says the spy Tanith who follows that with "Who knows".
The two of them make their way around the storage warehouse on the otherside of the marshalling yard behind the barracks, here in the center of the city.
There they find a group of about thirty Kuradian loyalist soldiers, and half a dozen black clad Farqian soldiers.
As well Lisell Maera the scout, Saanea the witch, and Beldane the cleric.
"You'll take command of your fellow soldiers" quietly says Dalin to the loyalist officer who is the adjunctant to commander Tracklen.
"What exactly are we going to do?" asks Morris, who is part of one of more wealthy and successful families here in the capital city Kuradum.
Who joined the army when he was a teenager against the wishes of many of those in his family.
"A hit and run attack" is the quiet reply of the elven spy who is a company commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
The adjunctant in the loyalist army slightly frowns as he spots small barrels on the ground infront of his fellow soldiers.
And as he turns to ask the elven mercenary soldier what they're for, the spy Tanith quietly tells him "The scout Maera will inform you of our plans".
Dalin waves over Lisell Maera, and as the scout who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury makes her way over.
The elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, walks over to where the two spellcasters are standing in the dawn light, of what's a cold winter's day here in the capital city of Kuradum.
"You know where?" quietly asks Dalinvardèl Tanith in the elven language.
"I do" replies Beldane the cleric in the same language as they look over to where Lisell Maera is quietly explaining things to the adjunctant in the army loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
"We're ready" says the powerful cleric from the kingdom of Nastell in response to Dalin quietly asking him "Ready?".
"Just give us the go ahead, and I'll take us there" says the fighting cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine, a god predominantly worshiped in the north of his homeland, Nastell.
"We'll look down at it, about thirty yards up a hill, there's scrubby trees between it and us" says the powerful cleric in the half plate armour.
Dalinvardèl Tanith nods his hooded head in understanding, as he knows Beldane knows a lot of the roads, villages and towns throughout the city-state of Kuradum.
As the group spent a few weeks traveling throughout the city-state before they were even hired by the ruling council of Kuradum.
The company commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, looks at the witch from the Maldin Hills, and quietly tells her "Get as much as you can, as quickly as you can".
"I will" replies Saanea the witch as her familiar, in the shape of a crow at the moment, lands upon her right shoulder.
Then the three of them look over at Lisell Maera and the adjunctant Morris.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury nods her head to signify that's she's informed the loyalist officer to what to do.
"Alright, let's do this" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy to Beldane the cleric.
Then the elf who is a company commander in the armies of Farque, switches to the common language, and says to the gathered soldiers "Form up".
The loyalist Kuradian soldiers form up, carrying the small barrels as they do so.
Then Dalinvardèl Tanith looks at Beldane the cleric, and nods his hooded head.
The powerful spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell starts casting, and a few short moments later, a gateway starts to form.
Once it's formed, the black clad soldiers from the lands Farque along with Lisell Maera the scout rush through the magical portal.
They're followed by the soldiers loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum, the adjunctant Morris leading the way.
Saanea the witch goes through after her familiar flies through the gateway cast by the fighting cleric.
Then Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy goes through, and finally Beldane the cleric goes through his spell.
"There" quietly says Lisell Maera the scout who points away to the right as the sun rises in the east, on this cold winter's day in the south of the city-state of Kuradum.
Saanea the witch nods her head, while further behind them Beldane the cleric is the last one through the gateway, which he keeps open.
"The dumb bastards camped on the road" mutters the adjunctant Morris as his fellow loyalist soldiers stack the barrels, that reek of naphtha and pitch.
While down the hill, and to the right lies a road beyond some fairly short trees and scrub that has a sprinkling of snow upon them.
There's a number of the enemy, who have made camp upon the road down there.
A camp that's just breaking up on this cold winter's morning in this part of southern Kuradum.
Though the enemy aren't soldiers as such, as they're more camp followers than anything else.
As there's at least thirty supply wagons stretched out along the muddy road that's dusted with snow. As well as a number of carts and pack horses.
Having seen the enemy who are soon to get underway for the day, Saanea the witch already acts.
And a bunch of the barrels fly off down the hill, in the direction of the enemy supply wagons.
Beldane the cleric joins her, and a large chunk of the barrels they brought through the gateway from the capital.
Lift up off from the ground, and head down hill. Passing over the trees, and scrub on their way to the enemy on the road.
Then shouts can be heard from down below, as the first of the barrels smash into wagons and carts.
Or hit the makeshift tents that many of the enemy camp followers and wagon drivers spent the cold night in.
The spy Tanith doesn't even have to give the order to light them up. As first the witch from the Maldin Hills. Then the powerful cleric from the kingdom of Nastell. With different spells, ignite the naphtha and pitch that's splashed everywhere from the broken barrels.
"Hell" mutters the adjunctant Morris as wagons and carts, as well as people down on the road, instantly go up in flames.
Beldane and Saanea send more of the barrels flying down to the road where the flames are spreading.
As the intention of the hit and run attack, is to destroy all of the wagons and carts as quickly as possible.
Barrels ignite as they pass through the spreading flames, before smashing into wagons and carts that are yet to catch on fire.
People down on the road attempt to put out the flames to no avail. In doing so, that catch on fire themselves.
After sending some more of the barrels flying towards the chaos down on the road.
Saanea the witch after quickly looking through the eyes of her familiar, which is heading back this way, says to the spy Tanith "Their army is on a road about four miles to the west of here".
The pretty looking practitioner of magic who hails from the Maldin Hills, then adds "They're just getting underway for the day".
Dalin nods his hooded head, then looks over at the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine, who has just levitated the last of the barrels down amongst the fire and flames on the road.
"That sorceress of their's will know about us if she senses in this direction" says the powerful cleric originally from the kingdom of Nastell.
The elven spy who is a company commander in the armies of Farque, nods his hooded head, then says "Time to head back".
"Back through the gateway" orders Dalinvardèl Tanith to the rest of those who have come from the capital this morning.
First back through the open gateway are the half a dozen Farqian soldiers, along with Lisell Maera the scout.
Then the Kuradian loyalist soldiers and the adjunctant Morris hurry back through the magical portal.
Saanea the witch goes through next, with her familiar flying over here, and through the gateway as she does so.
After one last look down at the burning wagons and carts on the nearby road.
Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy heads back to the capital city via the gateway.
Then lastly it's the fighting cleric himself, Beldane. Who heads back to the city of Kuradum via the gateway he's cast.
Which disappears once he's on the otherside, and back in the capital of the city-state.
It's one of councilman Hirrye's personal guards who is the first to spot it.
As he's walked away, and taken a piss. Looking off to the east as he does so. Spotting the smoke in the distance, on this cold winter's morning in this part of southern Kuradum.
He hurries back to the others who are about to get underway for the morning.
As the rebel army is about to resume it's march northwards towards the capital city of Kuradum.
After he informs the rebel councilman what he's spotted. The rebel leader looks around and calls out for the sorceress Losmena.
"Some of our supply wagons are that way, aren't they?" asks councilman Hirrye.
"Yeah on the road over there" says subcommander Phogarn, who is the assistant to the self styled duke of Kuradum.
As they wait for the teenage sorceress to join them just off to the side of the main road through the southern part of the city-state of Kuradum.
There's a concerned look upon the face of the rebel officer who is the assistant to councilman Hirrye as he looks away to the east.
And against the sky, and the sun that's rising up in that direction. He's sees the amount of sooty black smoke in that direction too.
Then when the sorceress Losmena joins them after coming from her tent, that's just been taken down.
The rebel leader tells general Ukaj to get the army moving, then councilman Hirrye points eastwards to the smoke in that direction, and tells the powerful sorceress "Get us there".
The practitioner of magic, who is still a teenager, looks away to the east, then nods her head.
And a short while later, Losmena the sorceress, subcommander Phogarn, and councilman Hirrye.
As well as four of the rebel councilman's personal guards are on a road, four miles away from where the army camped for the night.
There's silence from them as they look down the road, as less than thirty yards away, is the remains of the supply wagons and carts who were using this road.
As the main one the army is on, is a muddy mess, that the army is getting bogged down on every now and again as they head north.
There's a handful of survivors from the early morning attack, mostly riders, and their pack horses.
Who are standing off to the side of the road, looking at the destruction along the road in disbelief.
"Fuck" mutters councilman Hirrye as he finally breaks the silence, as a few wagons and carts continue to burn further down the road.
Then he turns and asks his assistant "How many did we have in this line?".
"About thirty wagons" is the reply of subcommander Phogarn, who continues with "And a similar number of carts".
The so called duke of Kuradum grimaces when he hears that. Though he's glad the line of war machines, and siege towers further south along this road, haven't been attacked.
Or for that matter, the much longer supply line on a road further to the west of the main one the army are traveling on, as they head north towards the capital of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Smells like pitch" quietly says one of his personal guards.
"And naphtha too" adds another of the personal guards to the rebel leader.
Councilman Hirrye looks over at his assistant, who nods his head in agreement to what the guards just said.
Then the self styled duke of Kuradum looks at the attractive young sorceress, and asks her "Any sign of the attackers?".
Losmena who has her eyes closed, and has been casting a spell to locate whoever it was that attacked the supply wagons.
Opens her eyes, and tells the rebel councilman "No sign of anyone that i can find".
Councilman Hirrye grimaces once again, then again mutters "Fuck".
As smoke continues to rise up into the air from the last of the burning wagons and carts.
On this cold, winter's morning in this part of the south of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .