The Thick Of It 66.

Winter.

Dorc da Orc watches as another of the rebel soldiers come hurrying out of the rift up here on the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
Instantly drop down amongst the others who have come out of the rift recently.
This one, like the others has been knocked out, and is fast asleep. Amongst a growing pile of enemy soldiers, here above the middle of the three sets of gates along the south wall of the capital city of Kuradum.
The large ork who has been warned by Beldane the cleric, and reiterated by Tamric Drubine the field commander, to stay back.
Can't help himself after he takes a quick glance back to where the two of them are standing by the nearby catapult, up here on the top of the wall.
And he takes a step forward, then another step forward as another rebel soldier comes out of the rift, and instantly falls flat on his face, fast asleep amongst his cohorts who are unconscious.
The ork warleader couldn't really explain it if he was asked, but the best that he can think of it is that his brain feels itchy.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, who is now a general in the armies of Farque.
Grins as he knows what that means, as he's felt it numerous times in the past.
Whenever someone has tried to cast a spell upon him, specifically his mind.
Something that he, and for that matter, all orks are immune to. It's a quirk of their race. For the simple fact they're all born totally mentally unstable, infact insane.
Some more than others. And surprisingly Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name. Is one of the least insane of his race.
Though that's not saying much. Because compared to everyone and everything else, the ork weaponsmith is an all out lunatic.
The son of the previous 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.
Reaches down and grabs one of the unconscious rebel soldiers by the leg. Pick him up, and fling him off the top of the wall, to the river on the otherside.
As he does, there's a fairly loud metallic sounding clang behind the warleader of the ork race.
The ork general looks back, then down and finds sir Percavelle Lé Dic lying on his back, on the top of the wall.
The sound of snoring can be heard from behind the closed faceplate of the former paladin's full helm.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world briefly frowns, then he bursts out laughing as he realises what's just happened.
Not wanting to be outdone by the ork warleader who is his bitter rival.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic seeing the large ork moving forward towards the rift, when he's been ordered not to.
As the enemy come out of what's essentially a magical doorway, then fall down fast asleep.
Decided he wasn't going to miss out, and let his bitter rival have all the fun as the enemy started piling up after coming out of the rift.
Here above the middle of the three sets of gates that the south wall of the city of Kuradum has.
Unfortunately for the nobleborn knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic.
He's not immune to spells on the mind compared to his bitter rival the ork weaponsmith.
And he got a little too close to the area effect sleep spell that Beldane the cleric has cast right infront of the opening of the rift.
Infact the large, heavily armoured knight as he followed the ork general, stepped right into it.
"Oh hell" mutters Tamric Drubine the field commander after turning to look after hearing the sound of a clang nearby.
Beldane the cleric, who like the young field commander, was looking at the enemy on the otherside of the wall.
Turns to his left, and rolls his eyes as he sees what's happened. As Dorc da Orc stands there, bent over double, laughing uncontrollably.
As sir Percavelle Lé Dic lies there on the top of the wall, fast asleep after stepping into the powerful cleric's spell.
"Idiot" mutters field commander Drubine, who briefly pauses before adding "Idiots".
"Will he be alright?" asks the young noble who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"He's fine" is the reply of Beldane the cleric, who continues with "He'll wake when the spell runs out".
As rebel soldiers continue to run out of the rift, and drop and fall unconscious as they run into the spell Beldane has placed right infront of the rift.
The fighting cleric who is originally from the kingdom of Nastell, then says "Which won't be too long by the feel of things".
Tamric Drubine or Ta-m as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, nods in understanding.
As the cleric in the church of Glaine, a god worshiped predominantly in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Quickly explained to him earlier that the area effect sleep spell will wear out the more people go into it.
At the moment there's at least thirty rebel soldiers lying unconscious infront of the rift, that's here on top of the south wall of the city of Kuradum.
Well, thirty rebel soldiers and one large, heavily armoured nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
Though that's starting to get less and less now. As Dorc da Orc, who though still laughing, has turned back around, and has started grabbing the sleeping enemy soldiers, and one by one, throwing them off the top of the wall.
The ork who was named warleader of his race by lord Farque a number of years ago.
Will occasionally biff one of the unconscious rebel soldiers off the wall, to inside the city. Down to the cobblestones of the square below.
But for the most part he flings them off the otherside of the wall, over the crenalations to the river below.
The former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, which can be found in the heavily forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Knows exactly why the large ork is throwing them in that direction. It's because to Dorc, getting wet is a hell of a lot worse than dropping over forty feet to the solid cobblestones of the square inside the city.
"Enjoy the swim cunt" says Dorc da Orc with a bark of laughter as he throws a sleeping rebel soldier off the top of the wall, to the river that runs along the south side of the capital city of Kuradum.
"Will they wake up too?" asks the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"They will" replies Beldane the cleric, who briefly pauses as the catapult behind them flings a load of rocks at the enemy across the river.
"Though they'll take longer than Percy to wake up" continues the fighting cleric, who follows that with "I've made the spell stronger, closer to the rift".
Tam nods in understanding, then the young field commander then says in a dry tone of voice "Might not need to worry about them with the way Dorc is going".
The powerful cleric, who has no rank whatsoever in the army of Farque, infact he's not actually in the armies of Farque at all.
Nor has he ever set foot in the lands Farque. As his kind, clerics. Are banned from the vast southern nation ruled by lord Farque.
Nods in agreement with field commander Drubine as they watch Dorc da Orc throw the unconscious enemy soldiers off the top of the wall.
As more of the rebels, one by one. Come out of the rift, only to fall down unconscious when they step into the sleep spell that the member of the church of Glaine has cast.
"He might want to hurry up with that" says the churchman in the heavy halfplate armour.
"It's going to fail fairly soon" adds Beldane the cleric who can sense his spell quickly diminishing as more of the enemy soldiers come out of the rift, and fall flat on their faces, and fall asleep.
"Just stab them Dorc!"  loudly says Tamric Drubine to the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
"Or stomp on them or something" adds the young field commander, who is now one of the senior officers in the armies of Farque.
"The spell is about to fail" continues Tam who follows that with "The more of them out of the fight, the better".
A scowl briefly appears on the wide, brutish looking face of the ork warleader.
Then the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts as he realises what the young field commander is going on about.
"Not him!" shouts Tamric Drubine the field commander as the large ork turns and is about to stomp on the unconscious sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
With a grunt of disappointment, then a derisive sounding chuckle, the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world turns back around, and starts stomping on the sleeping rebel soldiers.
Heads are shattered as the large ork stomps on them. The ork weaponsmith will occasionally pick up one of the enemy soldiers, and throw them off the top of the wall.
And in one instance he kicks one of the rebel soldiers off the wall.
For the most part the general in the armies of Farque, just stamps down on their skulls with one of his big, black boots.
Dorkindle throws two of the sleeping rebel soldiers off the top of the wall at the same time, when he hears Beldane the cleric call out "That's it Dorc!".
The next moment an enemy soldier runs out of the rift, and by some miracle doesn't trip over any of the unconscious rebels still on top of the wall.
And runs straight into the large ork, who no longer feels the itching sensation in his mind.
The soldier in the army of the rebel leader, and self proclaimed duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye. Falls flat on his ass after running into the warleader of the ork race.
Who picks the enemy soldier up by the head, and throws the man back where he came from, back through the rift opening.
Beldane the cleric who is about to cast again, but halts when next to him, Tamric Drubine the field commander says to him "You might have to go soon".
"Even with that there?" asks the fighting cleric who indicates the nearby rift.
"And them still coming out of it?" adds the powerful spellcaster who hails from the kingdom of Nastell.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque nods his head, then says to the Nastellian cleric "Look at them".
The churchman who worships the god Glaine looks out to where Tam gestures to.
And sees the enemy outside the city. Well those here on the south side of the capital of the city-state of Kuradum.
Have decreased in numbers further, with more of them having gone around, or are going around to the east side of the city.
Though those still trying to get into the city along the south wall. In particular here, around the second of the three gates in the wall.
Have definitely picked up in intensity, as they see that some of their fellow rebels are now in the city, and up on the south wall of the capital of Kuradum.
After a slight pause in the enemy coming out of the rift, they start appearing again, and run into a roaring Dorc da Orc.
And a bit behind the large ork, his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic groans after waking up, as he tries to sit up feeling groggy.
The powerful cleric in the church of Glaine says to the young field commander. "Yeah i better leave soon".
Nodding his head, the young noble who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin says "We'll deal with this". While gesturing at the rift, where more of the rebel soldiers are appearing from.
Then Tamric Drubine tells the fighting cleric "Get going".
Beldane the cleric nods, then briefly closes his eyes as he casts a spell. And a few moments later, a gateway starts to form infront of them.
Soon the all black magical doorway is complete, and after Tam says to him "Luck".
Beldane the cleric hurries through the gateway he has cast. And unlike the nearby rift, the gateway disappears a few moments after the powerful spellcaster has gone through it.
While field commander Drubine goes back to watchting the nearby rift, and the enemy soldiers coming out of it. Here on top of the city's south wall.
On what's a cold, but clear and sunny winter's morning here in the capital of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .