Vexil.
"Go that way" says Lord Farque who points off through the trees, he continues with "In a straight line" the undead warlord briefly pauses, before adding "More or less".
"Hmmmm" says sir Percavelle Le Dic in a dubious tone of voice, before he glares at Dorc da Orc who is standing against a nearby tree.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord rolls his eyes, then says to the noble born knight from the kingdom of Druvic "You'll smell the smoke before you see it" followed by "Figure they've burnt much of it down".
Sir Percavelle Le Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, grunts. While next to him, Shur Kee the monk nods in understanding.
The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque then tells the two of them "Saanea's familiar is about, it'll lead you back to the others if you get lost".
The undead being, who also has the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his lands know him by, then says "It's a white owl at the moment" followed by "You won't miss it".
"Witchcraft" loudly mutters the former paladin who is a member of the Knights of Saint Mar'che who then says "I shall be no part of such devilry".
The undead warlord refrains from rolling his eyes again, and instead just quietly says "Percy" in a rather ominous tone of voice as the already cold temperature suddenly drops around them.
"Ah, yes" says sir Percavelle Le Dic who suddenly has the need to get going, and he says to Shur Kee the monk "Come along my fine short fellow".
The large, heavily armoured knight continues on with "Time we rejoin the others" he briefly pauses before adding "Wot".
"We shall see you later Lord Farque" says Shur Kee the monk, who then adds "And you too friend Dorc".
Who just grunts, and nods to the departing acolyte in the order of Bru Li, who hurries after sir Percavelle who is moving quickly away through the trees, in the direction the lord of the death realm indicated.
The undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to The Destroyer, watches the short, statured monk wearing the odd, conical shaped hat.
And the former paladin in the suit of full plate armour and helm, with a white cape attached to the shoulder pieces of his armour.
Head off through the trees to the nearby town, here in the hill country of northern Vexil, where the rest of the group are this afternoon.
On what's been a cold, but sunny and clear, winter's day in this part of the north of the city-state of Vexil.
Then Draugodrottin glances to his right, and says in the ork language "Come on cunt" followed by "Let's fucking go".
The ork warleader grunts, then Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, scratches his back on the tree he's been learning against.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks then heads off, and quickly catches up to the lord of the death realm, who is heading up hill. In the opposite direction that Shur Kee the monk and sir Percavelle Le Dic have gone.
The undead warlord and the large ork who are heading uphill, hear the retreating voices of the other two heading back to rejoin the rest of the group.
"I think it would be better if you did not call friend Saanea's calling as devilry" says the short statured monk, who hails from beyond the Southlands, in the kingdom of Wah Lee which lies upon the far east coast of the continent.
They hear the former paladin snort, then say "Plain and simple, that's what it is old chap" followed by "I, the great sir Percavelle shall call that hussy whatever I damn well".
He's interrupted by the physical adept who is a member of the philosophical order of Bru Li, who says "I do not think young Tamric would appreciate you saying that about his lady".
And before the nobleman originally from the kingdom of Druvic can say more on the subject, the acolyte in the order of Bru Li adds "And I do not think Lord Farque takes too kindly you saying such things".
"Hmmmm I say I do think that's the road up ahead, wot" says Percy as he completely changes the subject.
"Soon enough, we shall be with the others" adds the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar'che, followed by "I'm sure of it".
"Silly fucken knight cunt" mutters Dorc da Orc as he and Lord Farque head uphill through the trees in this part of the hill country, in northern Vexil.
The Ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque, who despises sir Percavelle Le Dic, as they're the most fiercest of rivals.
Was hoping the former paladin would get lost heading back to the others, and get eaten by a bear or something.
But no such luck from what the warleader of the ork race can hear, as he and the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque near the top of the hill they're making their way up.
Once they've made it to the top of the hill, the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, grunts and comes to a stop, as in front of him, the lord of the death realm has come to a stop.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, stands to the side of the large, heavily armoured deathlord of Farque.
Dorkindle grunts when Draugodrottin gestures down to the nearby town, a lot which is just a smoldering ruins now.
"They've made their point there now" dryly says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, referring to the Geist cousins Gamil and Farsen.
Then Des'tier turns around, and looks to the east. Next to him, the ork who he named warleader of the crazed race from the freezing bottom of the world, turns too.
The ork weaponsmith grunts in response to the undead warlord saying in a dry tone "Not so fucking much there" followed by a muttered "Useless fucking cunts".
As another of the targets of the mercenary army, a town, though it's more of a village than anything else.
About two miles from the hilltop the two of them are up on, still stands as that part of the mercenary army gathered by the Geist Trading Company, are still making their way to it.
Even though it's the middle of the afternoon, later in fact, closer to late afternoon. And they were supposed to attack that particular town, around midday.
The ork warleader, who actually did listen to some of the conversations between Lord Farque, Tamric Drubine and the rest of the group.
Looks around, then asks the large human being beside him "Where's the other fucken bunch?". As the mercenary army gathered by the Geist Trading Company was split into three to attack the towns and villages, just over the border, here in northern Vexil.
The ork weaponsmith grunts when Draugodrottin points further east, and bit back towards the border, and say "There".
They can't see the town in question, as it lies beyond a couple more hills, but they can see tendrils of smoke starting to rise up into the clear and sunny afternoon sky away in that direction.
"At least that fucking lot are underway" sourly says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who has a rather low opinion of the Geist Trading Company, and the mercenary army they've gathered.
Then Des'tier says to the large ork who is a general in his armies "You notice anything about this?".
Dorc da Orc, though a complete psychopath like all orks. And like all of his kind, is a complete moron, who isn't exactly bright.
Is a born genius when it comes to military tactics, and in particular the ebb and flow of a battle. And that skill has only intensified in the more than twenty five years he's known the deathlord of Farque.
The large ork crouches down next to Draugodrottin, who has dropped to a knee, after picking up a small branch that's broken off a tree.
The large heavily armoured deathlord, who is drawing out on the ground with an end of the branch, a rough sketch of the hill country, towns and villages, as well as the position of the three parts of the Geist mercenary army.
"Here, here and here are to be attacked next" says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who follows that with "Then this place, this one then over here".
As he points out spots on the the roughly drawn map he's done of part of the hill country here in the north of the city-state of Vexil.
The undead warlord briefly pauses, before asking the ork who he named warleader a number of years ago "You notice it cunt?".
Dorkindle screws up his broad, green brutish looking face as he tries to see what Des'tier is trying to point out.
Then the ork weaponsmith grunts, and says "They all fucken moving away from each other". Referring to the three parts of the mercenary army that the Geist Trading Company has gathered.
Lord Farque nods his full helmed head, then quietly says "They are" followed by "The more places they attack, the further they drift away".
The large heavily armoured deathlord, then asks the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of world "Why the fuck would you do that?" he then adds "Especially since you want to make a fucking statement about where you've attacked from". Dorc da Orc is silent for a few moments, then he says "You fucken don't".
"Exactly" quietly says Des'tier, who continues with "You're leaving yourself open to getting wiped the fuck out by whoever, and whenever someone counterattacks" followed by "Definitely one part of your army, and maybe another if you're unlucky".
The large ork gestures at the rough map Lord Farque has drawn, then he asks "Then why the fuck are these cunts doing this?".
"Because they've been set up" quietly says Draugodrottin, which causes the ork general to blink in surprise, then ask "By fucken who?".
"I'm guessing by this so called cousin of theirs" replies the undead warlord, who after a moments pause, adds "Misa Geist" . . . . . .
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