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 . . . . . .
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