Mercenary Tales 69.

Vexil. 

In a residential building, the second one they've been in since coming to this part of the city early in the morning. 

Lord Farque looks at the wall to his left in the hallway he's in, here on the fourth floor of the building. 

The undead warlord nods his full helmed head to a couple, and their child, and a goblin servant who are cowering next to the remnants of the front door to their residence.

The large heavily armoured deathlord gestures back behind him down the hallway, and after a brief pause, the four of them hurry that way to the stairs. 

The lord of the death realm continues to stare at the hallway wall, then he calls out something in the orkish language. 

Nearby, in a room of the residence that the family hurriedly exited from. Dorc da Orc grunts, then hunkers down. 

Meanwhile back out in the hallway, Lord Farque after glancing towards the other end of the hallway, mutters "Fuck" he then silently adds in a sour tone, of course he'd have to turn up with them now. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque sighs, then he takes a quick few steps to his left. The next moment, a section of the hallway wall he was just staring at, blasts inwards. 

Sending debris flying everywhere, including through the open doorway to the residence where Dorc da Orc is keeping out of sight. 

Draugodrottin as the undead warlord is also known by to the people of his lands, quickly steps back to the right, and he throws a punch that's almost impossible to see. 

A magic using priest who has just teleported in through the hole in the hallway wall, face and head shatters apart, and his body goes flying backwards through the hole in the side of the building, to fall to the street below. 

The lord of the death realm who has the elven name of Des'tier, glances to the rooftop across the way from the building he's in. 

The deathlord of Farque steps back out of the way again, and part of the hallway wall is blasted inwards once more, though a much larger explosion this time. 

Draugodrottin sourly smiles behind the faceplate of his full helm as debris slams into him, the small pieces bouncing off him as he just stands there in the middle of the maelstrom of destruction. 

Close by, Dorc da Orc grunts as part of the wall about a dozen feet to the right of him, collapses and debris comes flying into the room where he's been keeping out of sight. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world sniffs, then he grunts and calls out something in orkish. 

The ork warleader winces as Lord Farque replies to him in the same language, causing Dorc da Orc to mutter "He fucken pissed off". 

The large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque sniffs again, though this time looking to the other end of the room he's in. 

The ork weaponsmith grunts as he catches a familiar scent in the distance, quickly heading in this direction. 

"Hey Farque, he's fucking" is all the ork general gets out, before he's interrupted by Lord Farque out in the hallway, calling out "I fucking know". 

Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, winces once again, when he hears the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque loudly and angrily mutter "Have to deal with these cunts first". 

He really fucken pissed off, the warleader of the ork race thinks to himself, who then chortles and murmurs "They dead". When he hears a loud scream of pain, which is abruptly cut off. 

Draugodrottin who had just grabbed a cleric who suddenly appeared in the hallway in front of him, by the arm and snapped it. 

Before punching the screaming cleric in the throat, killing him. He throws the body out through the hole in the wall, to drop to the street below. 

"Come on you fucking cunt" murmurs the lord of the death realm, who senses the cleric commander of the church of Famal, who is now the interim leader of that particular church here in the city of Vexil. 

Over on the rooftop of the building opposite to the residential one that he and Dorc da Orc are in at the moment. 

Out of the handful of clergy still over there, that cleric is the only one Draugodrottin is cautious about. 

For the simple reason, the cleric commander of the church of Famal, a cleric by the name of Omarc, is one of the few clerics in the city who is capable of casting a holding spell upon lord Farque that will actually work. 

Dorkindle who is listening to what's going on out in the hallway, frowns as he hears Lord Farque go completely still. 

Then the large ork mutters "Krom" when the large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque calls out something in the ork language to him. 

Not bothering to get up from where he's sitting, the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world scrambles on his hands and knees to the left. 

Just then another explosion, this one louder and definitely larger than the two previous ones, shakes this side of the four storey residential building. 

The large ork grimaces as behind him, just where he was sitting, a sizeable section of the wall there, is blasted inwards into the room. 

"Fucknuts" growls the ork warleader as dust and debris swirls around him, then he gets quickly to his feet when he hears what Lord Farque calls out to him. 

"Tígl kaughin cakl mere nagl urgart" is what the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque calls out to the ork general in his armies. 

"Kaag, ka kaughin muig" replies Dorc da Orc in his native language, as he takes a spear from his weapon harness, across his back. 

Then he runs straight ahead through the thick dust of the debris in the air, heading straight for the next room in the fourth floor residence. 

The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks can hear what's going on out in the hallway where Draugodrottin is. 

The ork general runs into the other room through the open doorway, then he turns left and runs straight for the wall, on the other side of which is the hallway. 

The large ork who has a fierce looking expression upon his big, brutish looking face, drops his head as he runs straight at the wall. 

Meanwhile out in the hallway, Lord Farque is completely still, as he's under a hold undead spell. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque looks down the hallway, to where a pair of clerics are. 

Neither one of whom is holding him with the spell that's been cast upon him. That honour belongs to the cleric commander Omarc. Who is still outside, across the way, on the roof of the building opposite this one. 

Then suddenly the senior most cleric in the church of Famal turns up in the basically half destroyed hallway on this floor of the residential building. 

When he does, Draugodrottin faintly smiles behind the faceplate of his full helm as he waits for the inevitable. 

"Got it" says cleric commander Omarc in a triumphant tone of voice after he teleports over into the hallway through the massive hole in the side of the building. 

The senior most cleric in the church of Famal who has appeared beside the two other clerics, one of whom is from his church. 

Suddenly frowns as he hears something as the three of them look at the undead creature about twenty yards from them down the long hallway, or what's left of the hallway. 

The powerful practitioner of magic who is the interim head of the church of Famal here in Vexil, takes his eyes off the undead creature, who is absolutely still, and unmoving thanks to his holding spell. 

And he looks to his left at the hallway wall, behind which he and the other two clerics hear something that sounds rather large, moving. 

"What the hell is that?" says the other cleric in the church of Famal, cleric commander Omarc is thinking the exact same thing as the trio of clerics can't sense anything magical on the other side of the wall. 

Just then, the section of the wall right beside them bursts outwards into the hallway. Causing the cleric commander to instinctively put up his left arm to protect himself from flying debris. And he goes to put a ward. Though it's slightly too late for that. 

A spear rams into the side of the senior most member of the church of Famal in Vexil, who screams out in pain as he's lifted up off his feet. 

His half plate armour is no match for the force of the spear that's been driven into his side by the large figure who has run straight through the wall, and into the hallway, at him and the two other clerics. 

"Get some!" yells Dorc da Orc in the common language after he bursts through the wall into the hallway. 

The ork warleader picks up the cleric commander of the church of Famal who has his spear through his side, knocking over one of the other clerics in the process. 

The large ork rams the cleric Omarc into the wall on the other side, causing the senior most member of the church of Famal to scream in pain as he does so. 

And while the third cleric tries to cast during the chaos, he's lifted off his feet and flung backwards at speed, when he's hit by a plain looking mace that's been thrown from the other direction. 

"Idiot" dryly murmurs Lord Farque as he walks down the hallway after throwing his mace. The undead warlord who is no longer held, due to the fact cleric commander Omarc is incoherent, in pain, and barely alive, as he's pinned to the wall. 

Calls out something in the ork language to Dorc da Orc, who is standing there, looking at what he's done with a gleeful look upon his broad green brutish looking face. 

The ork general in the Armies of Farque grunts after he hears what Draugodrottin calls out to him. 

Dorkindle steps back from his handiwork, turns to the right, and kicks the second cleric, who disoriented, is trying to get back to his feet after he was knocked down after the initial appearance of the ork weaponsmith. 

There's an audible crack when the large ork's right boot connects with the side of the cleric's head as he attempts to stand. 

That cleric, who was in the church of Famal drops to the floor dead with a broken neck and a shattered skull. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque joins the large ork who is a general in his armies. Des'tier picks up his mace, not even spearing a glance for the third cleric, who he killed who lies dead much further down towards the other end of hallway. 

Then Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc look at the cleric commander Omarc, who is pinned sideways to the wall by the ork warleader's spear. 

The interim head of the church of Famal in Vexil with pain in his eyes, and blood dripping from his mouth, lifts his head and turns his head slightly, and murmurs "You're dead" as he stares at the large ork. 

"Them cunts always saying that" says Dorc da Orc with a shake of his head, who glances at the large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque and grunts. 

Draugodrottin knowing exactly what that grunts means, says "I'll deal with it". Then switching to the ork language, the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque tells Dorkindle to head into the next set of rooms, and stay out of sight. 

Informing the ork general in his armies that Beldane the cleric is now here with those that they've been after, and are about to enter the building. 

The lord of the death realm yanks the spear out of the cleric commander of the church of Famal in Vexil, and hands the weapon to the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. 

Then as the large ork hurries down the hallway to another of the residences up here on the fourth floor, the undead warlord picks up the cleric commander Omarc, who is still alive, though barely. 

Des'tier who holds the dying cleric upside down by the leg, walks back along the badly damaged hallway, to where there's a massive hole in the side of the building. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque lifts the cleric Omarc up higher, so that the powerful practitioner of magic is almost eye level with the large heavily armoured deathlord, even though he's upside down. 

"Nice try" says Lord Farque in a conversational tone to the interim head of the church of Famal in Vexil, who follows that with "But not good enough". 

After squeezing and breaking the leg that he's holding, which garners a weak groan of pain from cleric commander Omarc. 

Draugodrottin casually biffs the dying cleric out through the hole in the side of the residential building, he and Dorc da Orc are in at the moment. 

The undead warlord faintly smiles behind the faceplate of his full helm as he knows what's just about to happen as the cleric Omarc drops to his death on this cold winter's morning here in the city of Vexil . . . . . .