War Fair.

Unruled Lands. 

In the unruled lands in the far east of The Southlands, nearly a thousand miles to the east of the city-state of Andelka, the furthest east nation in the central region of The Southlands. 

War has broken out between a Robber Baron wanting to set up his own nation. And those opposing it. 

The group who travels with Lord Farque heard rumours about an impending war out in the east, back in the city of Vexil in the springtime. 

Well Helbe the elven thief heard the rumours, and told Lord Farque, who decided to head this way upon hearing those rumours. 

For the simple fact to see if either side was willing to hire one of his Armies during the upcoming conflict. 

Though when the group got to the disputed lands in the very east of The Southlands, and were about to go into negotiations with either side. They suddenly found themselves in the middle of a war that broke out as one side attacked the other. 

Though normally the undead warlord wouldn't pick sides if one side or the other hasn't decided to hire one of his Armies. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque along with the rest of the group found themselves in the very heart of the war for the simple reason they arrived into a town where the negotiations were going to begin with one side of the conflict, when the other side suddenly attacked it from both the land and air. 

The town of Fairfield, one of the towns in support of those wishing to remain as unruled, and the nearby villages. 

Were first attacked by air just before dawn, then by land a little bit later in the morning. With the Robber Baron's forces coming in from the northwest. 

And now in and around the town of Fairfield, and some of the nearby villages, as well in the skies above them, and surrounding areas. 

The members of the group find themselves in the thick of a battle that's kicked off a war between those who want to set up a new nation, and those who want to continue to remain unruled . . .

. . . "Fuck" mutters Lord Farque in disgust as the twin masted airship is hit by a couple more magetube shots from an enemy warship.

Behind the faceplate of his full helm, the undead warlord sourly smiles as he watches the chaos taking place on the deck of the airship he finds himself on. 

"Er?" says Dorc da Orc who is standing beside the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque "That not good" adds the large ork as there's a loud creak come from below deck, quickly followed by what sounds like a loud crack. 

The ork warleader looks at the deathlord of Farque beside him, who he hears sigh, followed by what he assumes is a swear word in a language Dorc doesn't understand. 

As the airship, which is a converted transporter, starts to slowly drop in altitude, Lord Farque or Draugodrottin to give him his name that the people of his lands also know him by. 

Looks back towards the wheelhouse, and sees through the open windows, the captain of the ship and others struggling at the wheel. 

"Well, this ship is fucked" says the large heavily armoured deathlord in orkish, which gets a grunt from Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle to give him his full name. 

"Assholes" mutters the undead warlord when he looks forward towards the bow, and sees that the ship's boat, has been cut loose, with just a few crew members on it as they attempt to escape the doomed airship. 

"Come on cunt" says the lord of the death realm to the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, who is a general in his Armies. 

As the top third of the forward mast breaks off and falls to the deck, crushing a couple of the crew who were too slow to get out of the way. 

The two large figures of Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc make their way forward as the airship, which was well over ten thousand feet above the ground when it was first attacked, is now slowly dropping. 

Another loud crack comes from below deck, which is the magical keel of the converted transporter continuing to break apart. 

Draugodrottin and Dorkindle were originally onboard the vessel that took off well before dawn. 

To get a good look at some of the disputed lands in around the town of Fairfield, to see how things were unfolding as both sides of the impending conflict were building up their forces. 

And when Lord Farque informed the ship's captain, that warships belonging to the Robber Baron's fleet, were coming in from the northwest in what looked like a predawn strike. 

And the ship's captain, one of the leaders of those who want to remain unruled, ignored the warning from the undead warlord. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque realized he might of made a mistake in going to negotiate first with those who want to remain unruled, here in the very east of The Southlands. 

"Get the fuck out of the way" mutters the lord of the death realm who grabs a panicked crewman, who runs into him. 

Dorc da Orc chuckles as the large heavily armoured deathlord grabs that crewman and flings him overboard. 

Then as part of the stern is blasted away by an enemy magetube shot from one of the nearby warships belonging to the Robber Baron. 

The warleader of the ork race says "Er what we gonna fucken do?". For even the large ork who isn't the quickest and smartest mentally. Knows that the poor excuse of a warship that they're on, is doomed. 

As less and less magetube return fire comes from below deck, Lord Farque who is at the starboard rail. 

Looks at the ship's boat that's getting further and further away, even though those crew onboard it, have yet to get it's sails fully up. 

Then he looks at the big burly ork with a scowl upon his broad green brutish looking face, who is standing beside him. 

"You remember how to fly an air boat cunt?" asks the lord of the death realm who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means The Destroyer. 

"Er?" says Dorkindle, who then grunts when Draugodrottin stares at him "Me 'member" continues the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks. 

"Pull back on the fucken stick thing to go up" says the ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque, who then adds "Fucken push down to go down". 

"Good enough" dryly says the undead warlord, who then tells the large ork "Catch it" followed by the order of "Don't die" before he grabs him. 

Knowing that he can't save the both of them, not that the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque actually needs saving from anything, ever. 

Des'tier lifts up the seven and a half foot tall, more than seven hundred and fifty pound ork warleader, and throws him with a fair bit of force. 

Dorc da Orc gasps as he's thrown from the doomed airship, and he goes flying through the air. 

A large smile appears on the feral looking face of the ork weaponsmith who has always enjoyed the sensation of flying. 

As he goes hurtling through the air, Dorkindle who was wondering what Lord Farque meant by "Catch it" sees what he's been thrown at. 

"Krom" mutters the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, just before he slams into the ship's boat. 

Which has drifted well over a hundred feet from the doomed airship, and probably half that distance down from it too. 

The large ork didn't exactly catch it, he basically crashed into it. Breaking apart a couple of spars, crushing one crewman, and sending another screaming, as he tumbles overboard to his death. 

Dorkindle who is sprawled across the stern of the air boat, shakes his head, and mutters "Fucknuts" before rolling off the crewman he's crushed to death when he unceremoniously landed upon the ship's boat. 

The ork warleader groans as he sits up, then he reaches out and grabs one of the two remaining crewman onboard, and throws him overboard. 

"Fuck that screaming ya cunt" mutters Dorkindle as he hears the air sailor he just threw overboard, screaming like hell as he falls to his death thousands of feet below. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, looks forward and sees the remaining crewman onboard, cowering up in the bow of the small air boat. 

The large ork grabs the dead air sailor he crushed to death, and flings the body overboard, before he sits on the bench, which surprisingly is still in one piece, and even more surprisingly, supports his weight. 

The ork weaponsmith takes a hold of the tiller, behind and to the right of him, and slightly pushes down on it. 

And the ship's boat, which has one sail flapping about, starts to drop in altitude, though still flying fairly straight. 

"Fuck" mutters Dorc da Orc, who adds "By Krom" after flinching as a magetube shot barely misses the small air boat. 

Ignoring the remaining air sailor in the bow who screamed in fright as the magetube shot went flying over them, barely twenty feet from the top of the mast. 

The ork who was named warleader of his race a number of years ago by Lord Farque, looks back and up, when he hears a serious of explosions further up in the air. 

"Hmmmm" murmurs Dorkindle when he sees the airship he was just on, breaking apart in a burning wreck. 

The large ork looks carefully amongst the wreckage, then he grunts when he spots someone standing on a fairly good sized chunk of the destroyed airship. 

"He fine" Dorc da Orc murmurs to himself, then nods as he sees the hand signals given to him by that particular individual. 

The ork weaponsmith then looks forward again as he continues to fly the small air boat that he finds himself on. 

After signaling to the ork general in the distance, to land and find any of the others who are close by. 

Lord Farque who is keeping on top of the large chunk of wreckage, about a fifth of the airship, torn from amidships, from the deck all the way down to where the magical keel would normally be. 

Looks around, specifically down, ignoring the screams of the surviving crew who are inside the large piece of wreckage. 

"Fuck" mutters the undead warlord, who continues on with "Too fucking far" as he sees an airship further down in the sky. Which is moving quickly to avoid the falling debris. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque just sighs as he keeps to the top of the now burning wreckage which is now slowly spinning, as it tumbles towards the ground, and the town of Fairfield below. 

As he waits for the inevitable, the large heavily armoured deathlord looks in the distance, at the small air boat that's flying away from the battle in the skies above the unruled lands in the very far east of The Southlands. 

After a few moments, Draugodrottin sourly smiles behind the faceplate of his full helm, and sighs then dryly says "Fucking idiot". 

"The fuck?" says Dorc da Orc as he sits there with the half of the tiller he's accidentally broken off after pushing down on it too hard, after another enemy magetube shot narrowly missed the small air boat. 

You're right fucked now, you fat fuck, the large ork thinks to himself "Shut up ya fucken whore" mutters the ork warleader to the voice of his 'Mother' in his head. 

"And you fucken shut up too ya cunt" says the ork weaponsmith to the remaining crewman in the bow, who has resumed screaming in fright after seeing that the air boats tiller is now broken. 

Dorkindle not wanting to listen to that screaming anymore, throws the broken tiller forward, which smacks into the last crewman, hitting him in the head and shoulders, sending him toppling overboard. 

The ork general in the Armies chuckles, then he quickly grabs the gunnels to either side of him, and holds on as the small air boat which was already dropping in altitude, starts dropping out of the sky even quicker. 

"Krom" mutters Dorc da Orc as he sits there on the bench in the stern of the ship's boat as he waits for what happens next, on this warm and breezy summer morning in the very far east of The Southlands . . . . . .

Springtime In The City 95.

The City Of Vexil. 

After packing his bag, Zam the ex mercenary looks out of the window of his room, here on the second floor of the Merchant's Rest, the inn the group has been staying in while here in the city of Vexil. 

The youngest member of the group who is originally from The City Of Ruins likes it here in the capital of the city-state of Vexil. 

And wonders if they'll return sometime in the future. He suspects so, as Lord Farque uses the city as the main hub for things he sends back to his lands. 

Those things mainly being gold, and other loot that, as Mira Reinholt the mage dryly puts it, they acquire. 

The ex mercenary looks up, out the window, and sees that there's a light smattering of clouds in the skies above the city. And it's another fine spring morning by the looks of things. 

The teenager who hails from The City Of Ruins where the group found him, scratching together a meager living as a mercenary. 

After one last look around his room, and seeing that he's packed up all of his possessions. He, carrying his pack, makes his way from the second floor room. And heads down to the common room of the small secluded inn the group has been staying at, whilst here in the city of Vexil. 

There, most of the others in the group are waiting. The only ones not here are Helbe the elven thief. Who left the inn just after dawn. 

And Lord Farque himself, who is still upstairs in his room, along with Mira Reinholt the mage and Malisse aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman. 

"I am" says Zam the ex mercenary in response to Tamric Drubine the field commander who walks by, asking him "You ready?". 

The young man originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, nods his head then continues on his way over to where Saanea the witch is waiting. 

While the youngest member of the group goes and stands with Lisell Maera the scout and Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy. 

"Any idea where we're going?" quietly asks the ex mercenary who is originally from The City Of Ruins when he stands next to the elven spy, and the scout leader. 

While Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well remains silent. 

Lisell Maera the scout shrugs her shoulders, and quietly says "No idea" followed by "Still nothing since they told us last night we'd be leaving". 

The teenager who is originally from The City Of Ruins nods his head, then he along with the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury, glance sideways at the elven spy standing beside them. 

Who they're fairly certain knows something about where they're going. But has been ordered not to tell anyone else who hasn't been told already. 

Zam is fairly certain that field commander Drubine has yet to be told. And that only Mira Reinholt, Malisse aka Zubutai Timaginson, and Helbe the elven thief along with Dalinvardèl Tanith have been told where they're going after they leave the city of Vexil a little later this morning. 

The ex mercenary looks over at sir Percavelle Lé Dic who still looks annoyed, after he was told yesterday evening, to sell the war horse he got before The Spring Tourney of Vexil. 

Though the former paladin was more than a little displeased to do so last night. He was more than a little pleased to see how much gold coin he got from the sale of the war horse. 

Zam then looks over at Dorc da Orc, the other person annoyed that the white war horse was sold off. 

Considering the large ork has been after that war horse ever since his bitter rival sir Percavelle Lé Dic purchased the animal earlier in the spring. 

The youngest member of the group looks away from the ork warleader, who is sitting on the floor, drinking from an open barrel of strong ale by the smell of things. 

And looks over at the others here in the common room of The Merchant's Rest inn. Along with Tamric Drubine the field commander and Saanea the witch. 

There's also Beldane the cleric, Tovis the war engineer, as well Shur Kee the monk, who sits at a nearby table. 

As they all wait for those still upstairs, to make their way down to the common room of the small secluded inn, that the group have been staying in while here in the capital of the city-state of Vexil. 

They don't have wait too much longer, as Malisse aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, followed by Mira Reinholt the mage make their way down to the common room. 

A few moments later, and Lord Farque himself makes his way down to the common room from upstairs. 

The undead warlord goes over and has a quiet word with the innkeeper, who is standing by the counter of the bar. 

After the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque speaks to the innkeeper, the large heavily armoured deathlord hands the man a fairly substantial sized coin bag. Which Zam is pretty certain contains just gold coins and nothing else. 

After glancing into the coin bag, the innkeeper bows to the lord of the death realm, who nods his full helmed head in reply. 

"Dalin lead the way" says Lord Farque to the elven spy who hails from the principality of Alinlae, the officer in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque nods, then moves off, leading the way from the common room, through the reception chamber, and after that, outside. 

The others in the group follow after the spy Tanith, with Shur Kee the monk the last one to leave the small secluded inn. 

The group are soon out on the streets of northern quarter of the city of Vexil, with Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, leading the way. 

As they walk through the streets of the neighbourhoods in the north of the city, Zam who is walking alongside Lisell Maera, nods when the junior officer in the Armies of Farque quietly says to him "Looks like we're heading to one of gates in the north wall". 

The teenager originally from The City Of Ruins replies with "Looks like it". And he wonders if they're heading to the woods, about ten or so miles north of the city, where the krean scoutship has been dropping off shipments of gold, from the mines in the northern border region of the city-state. Mines that Lord Farque has taken over during the aftermath of the border incursion by a mercenary army that was hoping to start a war between Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. 

The group are fairly quiet as they head towards one of the gates on this side of the city, even the usually boisterous sir Percavelle Lé Dic is quieter than usual. 

Though it helps the noble born knight from the kingdom of Druvic, is walking towards the front of the line of march. 

While the former paladin's bitter rival, Dorc da Orc. Is towards the rear of the line, behind Zam and Lis, just in front of Shur Kee the monk who is last in line. 

The two rivals are well behaved, that's to say, well behaved for the two of them. As the group heads to one of the set of gates in the north wall of the city of Vexil. 

And it's not that long before the group gets to the open gates, which Dalinvardèl Tanith leads them through. 

Zam glances at the city guardsmen on gate duty, who pay them no mind. And sees that though they all glance at Lord Farque and especially Dorc da Orc, due to how large the two of them are. 

The guardsmen don't even bother to stop them as they head out of the city, which they occasionally do to groups, just to see it they'll be returning to the city in the future. 

Out on the road, the group keeps to the left, as do the other travellers heading north. While those coming into the city of Vexil this spring morning, are on the other side of the road. 

The youngest member of the group looks behind them, and takes a long look at the massive walls of the city. 

And slightly nods to himself, as he figures he'll see them again sometime in the future, when exactly he's not too sure. But he's certain he'll eventually see them again one day. 

Zam looks ahead again as he walks beside the scout Maera, who quietly voices what the ex mercenary from The City Of Ruins has already thought. 

"Guess we're going to those woodlands to the north of here" quietly says Lisell Maera who is a junior officer in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque. 

In front of them, Mira Reinholt the mage glances back at them, and nods his hooded head. Though both Lis and Zam see him give the hand signal to be silent about that. 

The attractive young woman who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury changes the subject, and quietly says to the teenager who's the youngest in the group "Quite liked staying at that inn". 

The ex mercenary nods in agreement with that, then grins when Lis dryly adds "Hell of a lot better than the dumps we usually stay in". 

Zam has learnt that the group only occasionally stays in such nice and luxurious accommodations like the Merchant's Rest inn. 

And that they usually stay in places that are most convenient, and advantageous to whatever they're up to at the time. 

The teenager originally from The City Of Ruins wonders where they'll stay next. Wherever that may be. 

A short while later, and the group turns off the cobblestone road, and onto a dirt packed road that goes through some of the farmland to the northeast of the city of Vexil. 

And about a half a mile down that road, between two rises, Lord Farque says "Here will do". And Dalinvardèl Tanith leads them off the road. 

Looking at Beldane the cleric, the undead warlord tells him "The rendezvous point in the woodlands further north". 

Knowing exactly where, Beldane the cleric nods, then he starts casting. And quickly, because it's not all that far away, a gateway starts to form. 

And once it's fully formed, Dalinvardèl Tanith is quickly the first one through, followed by sir Percavelle Lé Dic. 

The rest of the group goes through one at a time, with the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine the last to go through the magical doorway. 

Zam looks to the right, and finds near a tree, within some woods, stands Helbe the elven thief, who is clearly waiting for them. 

Further through the trees, in an open clearing, the ex mercenary sees the familiar sight of the krean scoutship. 

"Get aboard" says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque to everyone, who start making their way to the small, lean, dark, mastless airship in the nearby clearing. 

Once onboard, and on the deck after stowing away his pack, Zam finds the undead wardog Axe lying on the deck. 

Seems the massive animal left the city early this morning with Helbe the elven thief, who went ahead of the rest of the group. 

"Er?" says the ex mercenary, who continues with "Don't we have to be strapped in or something?" followed by "That's what I've heard anyway". 

As the krean scoutship lifts off, and smoothly gains altitude, up into the skies above this region of the city-state of Vexil. 

"No need, we're flying straight to where we're going" explains Helbe the elven thief who is standing nearby, here on the mastless deck of the dark, sleek krean airship. 

"And where exactly are we going?" asks Lisell Maera who has walked over to stand by the youngest member of the group. 

"You'll find out" replies the highly talented elven magic user, who then laughs as the scout leader looks at him with a sour look upon her face. 

The young elven noble is still laughing when he turns and walks away, and heads to the wheelhouse. 

Where Lord Farque is with the senior officers of the krean scoutship, along with Mira Reinholt the mage and Malisse aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman. 

Zam looks at Lisell Maera and just shrugs as the small, sleek mastless airship turns to port, and starts heading to the east. 

"We'll eventually find out where we're going" says the teenager originally from The City Of Ruins, next to him, the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury, just grunts in reply. 

The ex mercenary then looks away to the south, and in the distance, getting further away, he sees the city of Vexil. 

Zam faintly smiles at what's happened to him and the others in the group, here in the city-state of Vexil this spring. 

Author's Note: Here ends "Springtime In The City". The main storyline will continue in "War Fair".