You Want A War? You've Got One! 6.

The Stone Hills. Winter...

"How's their progress?" asks the clan chieftain Baedin Kraelin "They're moving as slowly as a fat sow that knows it's on it's way to market" replies Lobbie the dwarven warrior. Lobbie is his nick name, because he likes to lob peoples heads off with his axe.
"They stop and start like they're always running to the jakes with the shits" continues Lobbie, who at nearly five foot tall, and a rotund frame beneath his mix of chainmail and leather armour, is considered a large dwarf.
"If they're not bunched up, they're spread out like no bodies business" says Lobbie with a shake of his head, which sends his blond braids swinging, the large dwarven warrior continues with "Three days and they're still going through the foothills" he says that in disgust, as he does when he adds "And they're using our trade road!".
"Aye they're useless buggers traveling for sure" says the hammermaster Baedin Kraelin as they along with a small group of warriors who are following them, make their way through a series of tunnels in the side of a mountain in Kraelin clanhold.
"Doesn't help that the idiots decided to go to war during winter, and in the mountains for god's sake" says the clan chieftain "Aye the fools" mutters Lobbie, who after a slight pause, adds "There's plenty of the fools though".
And that's the crux of the problem, Baedin Kraelin thinks to himself, as he knows that their clan, as well as all the other clans in the Stone Hills, as well as the free folk in the foothills and beyond, are badly outnumbered by the various armies of the justifier's of Belinswae.
Wooden doors are opened as the group approach them, the outside of the doors resemble rock, for that's what the outer part of the doors are. The group consisting of the chieftain of clan Kraelin, the large dwarf Lobbie, and about half a dozen dwarven warriors make their way outside.
Where a biting wind is blowing against the side of the peak they're up. They cross a dry water culvert to an outcrop on the side of the mountain.
Lobbie thumps the rock face of the outcrop with the haft of his axe. A moment later and a section of the rock face slides smoothly open from right to left. The group of dwarves step inside the outcrop, which in actual fact is a lookout position for this particular mountain.
As the hidden rock wall slides close behind them, the hammermaster Kraelin asks one of the warriors on duty in the lookout "Where is he?".
"Upstairs chief" replies the dwarven warrior, who then adds "On the top level" the clan chieftain grunts to that, and followed by Lobbie, he heads to the stairwell, that winds up through the rocky outcrop that's about eighty feet high.
Baedin Kraelin and Lobbie climb the stairs, with the larger dwarf following his chieftain. They pass lookout levels that give a view for miles all around to the east and west, and particularly to the south. The levels are all manned by dwarven warriors, who are looking down into the foothills in the distance.
They get to the top level, and the chief of clan Kraelin and the large dwarf with a battleaxe strapped to his back share a quick look. Before they cross the top level of the watchtower, that's manned by a trio of warriors, and one other.
Baedin Kraelin and Lobbie make their way to the other, who is slightly leaning forward with his arms folded on the sill of an opening, looking away to the south. He's leaning forward so as not to bump his head, which is hooded, on the ceiling as he stands about six foot tall.
The hammermaster comes and stands beside the hooded figure in the cloak, while Lobbie stands a bit back from the two of them. Glancing out of the next window opening along to the right as wind blows in through the rectangular shaped openings.
"Highness" quietly says Baedin Kraelin who has switched to the common language "Chieftain" replies Helbe the elven thief, who briefly glances at the dwarven chief beside him, before he looks outside again.
The hammermaster steps up onto the step infront of him so he can see clearly out of the same opening that prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel is looking out of. The clan chieftain looks away to the right, to the southwest. And he soon spots what everyone in the watchtower within the outcrop up the side of the mountain is watching this morning. A justifier's army from Belinswae.
"The lad came back last night with my son Thane and the Axe Thrower" says the dwarven chieftain as they watch the army that's invaded his clanhold, ponderously winding it's way along the trade road, that's like a ribbon through the foothills into the mountains of the Stone Hills.
"So i heard" says the young elven noble who continues with "They got a good close look at them the other day is what i heard". "Aye they did" says the dwarven warrior who is both chieftain and hammermaster.
The elven masterthief nods his hooded head, then he says "And we're expecting some others from the west sometime today i take it".
"Aye Helnd and his war party, who have the lassie with them" says Baedin Kraelin, who briefly pauses then a look passes across his bearded face, as if he's bitten into something extremely sour as he adds "Along with the mad, er the knight and those clanless rebel rousers who run with him".
The elven magic user refrains from laughing, though he does grin as he hears the muttered swearing from the other dwarves in this level of the watchtower at the mention of the knight sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who all the dwarves refer to as the madman. The elven princeling from south of the equator is finally learning the dwarven language, and though he knows some basic commands, as well as greetings and the like. He doesn't know much of it apart from a wide array of swear words, which is often the easiest thing to first learn when you're just starting out learning a new language.
"Not too worry chief Baedin" says Helbe the elven thief, who then adds "At least sir Percavelle is on our side". "I don't know if that's a good thing or not" dryly murmurs the dwarven chieftain who is of the opinion that the knight from south of the equator, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, is as much of a liability as he is an asset in fighting the armies of the justifiers of Belinswae.
The young elven noble does laugh when he hears what the chief of clan Kraelin just dryly murmured, then the elven master assassin says "Like i said, not too worry, he'll be kept well in hand now that he's back with us".
The hammermaster grunts in satisfaction at that, as he knows that at least that is true. Then as they watch the enemy army on the trade road, and the wyverns flying over it, Baedin Kraelin asks "How many justifiers with them this morning?". "Just the one" replies prince Helbenthril Raendril who then adds "The other flew off just after dawn, headed west" the elven master archer continues with "They've finally probably got word of their forces to the west getting attacked by Helnd and his war party, most likely gone to check out what's happened".
"That those bastard guards that way got wiped out is what they'll find" quietly says the clan chieftain, the elven magic user nods in agreement with that, then the two of them fall silent as they continue to watch the justifier's army moving slowly through the foothills a few miles to the southwest of the mountain the hidden watchtower is up.
After a while of observing the enemy army, the elven princeling breaks the silence by asking "Is everything in preparation?". "Aye they are highness" says Baedin Kraelin who never thought in his lifetime he would be speaking with an elven prince, and one who is from so far away. And one who has turned out to be such an invaluable ally too.
"With the war party Helnd is bringing back sometime today, it'll be the most warriors we'll have in my clanhold in at least my lifetime" says the dwarven hammermaster who is the chief of clan Kraelin, after a slight pause he quietly adds "Hopefully it's enough to take them on".
"It should be" says Helbe the elven thief, who then silently adds to himself, or so I've been told.
Then as they watch the justifier's army that numbers over a thousand guards, and half again that much in camp followers, not to mention the half a dozen wyverns circling overhead, and again that many ranging out in all directions, looking for signs of the dwarven warriors and free folk fighters who they've been waging war against this winter.
The elven spellcaster who as usual has a shield spell up so that he can't be sensed by other practitioners of magic, asks the clan chieftain "That other matter I've mentioned now and again, any word on that?".
"Nay nothing as of yet" says Baedin Kraelin, who then adds "Word might not of got all the way to the east into The Hills" the hammermaster continues with "Then there's the clanless who live amongst the free folk, could be there too".
The young elven noble nods his hooded head in acknowledgment that, that could be the case in the other issue he's mentioned. "Well keep asking if you please" says the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel in the Southlands.
"Aye we will highness" says chief Baedin of clan Kraelin, who after a slight pause as he glances at Lobbie and the other warriors in this level of the watchtower within the outcrop, three quarters of the way up the mountainside, quietly asks the young elven noble "Got a time when we're going to attack that lot down there?".
"Well it was going to be tomorrow morning" replies prince Helbenthril Raendril, who after a moments pause adds in a slightly dry tone "But at the speed they're moving, or i should say, lack of it, it'll probably be early the following morning".
"Aye, they be slow bastards for sure" says the clan chieftain who then adds in a wry tone "Can't even count on them to get killed when we want them too". The elven masterthief slightly smiles, then says "How inconsiderate of them, they really should be more accommodating". Which causes chief Baedin, Lobbie and the other dwarven warriors in this level of the hidden watchtower to chuckle.
After the quiet laughter dies down, the hammermaster Kraelin asks "Still in the same place?" the young elven noble from south of the equator says "Still in the same place, beyond the redoubt, past that last village to the east of the road".
"Aye, good spot that" says Baedin Kraelin, who after a slight pause continues with "Not afraid to admit it,  but i would never of picked that area to take on such a large force".
Nor i, then again I'm not a master of battle tactics, prince Helbenthril Raendril thinks to himself, who along with the dwarven clan chieftain look in the direction of the area concerned is. They haven't got a great view of it, even from up here in the mountain watchtower. They can't see the village in question, as it's on the otherside of a foothill below.
"That village has been abandoned since the start of winter" says the chieftain of clan Kraelin who continues with "No doubt they be sending patrols, either from the backs of their flying beasties, or horses, to check it out today".
"No doubt" says the elven magic user who has been in the Stone Hills since the start of winter helping out the dwarven clans who are at war with the justifiers of Belinswae, well almost all of the justifiers of that region.
Next to the elven spellcaster, the dwarven hammermaster slightly shakes with a slight shiver, and as Helbe the elven thief eyes him, Baedin Kraelin explains "Never been fond of that free folk village being so close to our clanhold".
"Oh?" says the young elven noble with a raised eyebrow, who was of the opinion that the chief of clan Kraelin, and his clan in general got along well with the free folk in the foothills close to their clanhold.
"They've got themselves a lich yard there" says clan chieftain, a couple of the other dwarves mutter at that, and another makes a sign to ward of evil "The humans from all around the area bury their dead there" adds Baedin Kraelin who then says "Bury them in the earth, in the soil itself".
He like all the dwarves in this level of the watchtower, and all of dwarven kind, they find that practice abhorrent. As they believe the dead should be entombed in stone, as they do with their dead.
They even find the practice of the elves, who leave their dead to lie on the earth within a forest, more preferable to the human practice of burying the dead in the dirt and soil.
The only time you'll find dwarven kind buried in soil is if others have done it, as is often the case with the fallen in battle.
"A lich yard you say?" says Helbe the elven thief after he blinks in surprise at hearing that "Aye" says Baedin Kraelin the hammermaster, who all of sudden is reminded of something else, why he's not sure. But he asks the elven magic user "By the way, where is he this morning?".
With a twist of his lips, that's the start of a slight smile forming, the elven princeling nods his hooded head in the direction of the village they've just been discussing, and he says "He's checking out that village" . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 5.

Falnic, Belinswae. Winter...

It's near twilight in the city of Falnic on a cold winter's day for this part of the region of Belinswae.
Near the docks in the coastal city, a hooded figure walks through a series of lanes, which is usually busy with hawkers and street sellers at this time of the day, even during winter time.
But not today as daytime gives way to dusk, the lanes are quiet with few street merchants, and few customers. The war in the north, in the Stone Hills against the dwarven clans has caused havoc for small stall holders and street sellers this winter.
With few customers about due to a fair few of the population gone north with the various armies of the justifiers, business is bad.
Though the business the figure in the hooded cloak is dealing with, is doing roaring trade, infact it's the best business opportunity in Falnic going this winter, there's no denying that.
The figure who stands a few inches over six foot, is far taller than most local residents, or people from Belinswae tend to be, as they're a fairly short people for humans.
Well the figure in the grey hooded cloak, isn't from Belinswae nor is he human, which explains a lot. And he's also not here in the city of Falnic to do business in the roaring trade of smuggling. He's also here in the largest city in the region of Belinswae to spy.
Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy spots a figure duck into a side lane in the fading light. That person has come from the nearby docks on the north side of the harbour. The elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands turns into the same side lane.
And moves quietly and quickly forward unlike a human would, and not just because he's a light footed elf, but also because he's been trained to do so.
Dalinvardél, or Dalin as he's referred to by those who know him. Moves down the side lane towards what he knows is a tavern just around the corner. A thoroughly disreputable tavern that no law abiding resident of Falnic would visit.
The person the elven spy is following isn't law abiding in the least, that's why he's heading there. The elf who once served in one of the noble houses in his homeland, quickly catches up to the figure he's been following.
"Going somewhere Marv?" quietly says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy as he moved silently up behind the person he's been following, grabs him by the arm, and pulls him into an alley that's behind the tavern that's just around the corner.
"You're about to leave on the night tide, this is no time to be getting yourself a drink" quietly adds the elven spy "You" gasps Marv, who is second mate on a sleek, twin masted schooner, that those in the know, will identify as a smuggler's ship if there ever was one.
"You near frightened me to death" murmurs the sailor who sighs in relief as he sees who grabbed him and pulled him into the alley way. He moves into a doorway, and quietly says "Not leaving on the night tide, too many patrol ships are out, capt'n doesn't want a risk it".
"There's only three ships out on patrol, and I've paid the master of the one to the north to wander out to seaward tonight" quietly says the elven spy from the Southlands, who continues with "So that blockade runner of yours will have no problem skirting the other two".
"Fuck" mutters Marv, who smells like he's had a drink or two already "Now you weren't going to take my hard earned coin" says Dalin "Hard earned?" says the sailor a little dubiously "Well the stealing of it was hard earned" dryly says the spy Tanith, who then adds "Without actually doing anything were you?".
The elf from south of the equator then quietly says "After all the trust I've shown in you and your captain and his ship". The second mate of the smuggler's vessel sourly smiles as the tall hooded figure standing infront of him said that last bit in a tone of heavy sarcasm.
"No not in the least" quietly says Marv as he looks up and down the alley behind the tavern hoping that no one sees the two of them talking.
"Well that's good to hear" says the elf from the principality of Alínlae, who after a brief pause, adds "Considering I'm going with you lot this time".
"Fuck" mutters Marv once again, the elven spy faintly smiles, then quietly says "Indeed" then Dalinvardél Tanith quickly grabs the much smaller sailor, and shoves him towards the lane, and quietly tells him "Get going" followed by "Back to your ship".
The two of them start going through the lanes, back to the nearby docks on the north side of the harbour. As they do, Marv looks figuratively around, and hastily says to the spy Tanith "Don't want to be caught wandering around at night, damn press gangs are about, they'll take anyone than can and put them in the army, or in a crew in their navy".
"Hardly" dryly says Dalin, who knows that Marv wants to run away from him, the elf from south of the equator continues with "Not in this part of the city, the watch is likely to get knifed if they try to press anyone from here".
The elven spy then says "You know they hit the southside of the harbour where the poor rubes from down south along the coast tend to drink when they're here in Falnic" he then adds "Or the streets near the east gates, where the country folk stay and drink when they're visiting".
Dalinvardél Tanith leans close to Marv and quietly tells him "Relax, and stop being so nervous" he quietly adds "Or you're the one who will end up being knifed".
The sailor briefly tenses as he feels the point of a dagger in his side, he relaxes as it's pulled away from him. Marv stops being so fidgety and nervous as he knows the tall, hooded and cloaked figure walking beside him, is more than willing to use the hidden dagger he's holding. The second mate of the smuggler's ship has seen him use it, and he doesn't want to be on the end of the dagger of the person who he only knows as 'the elf'.
They get to the docks as twilight takes hold, and they head to a pier where a twin masted, sleek looking schooner is tied up near a pair of fishing smacks. With a cold wind blowing off the Great Western Ocean, the two of them make their way along the pier to the dark looking schooner.
The pass a pair of armed sailors near a lit bucket brazier, warming their hands over the fire as they stand near the gang plank. They're let passed when the second mate of the schooner is recognized.
Marv heads up the gang plank first, followed by Dalinvardél Tanith, once onboard, the ship's captain spots them as a couple of the night lamps have been lit.
The captain of the smuggler's ship scowls when he sees his second mate back onboard, his scowls even more deeply when he spots who it is, who's with Marv the second mate.
"Capt'n" says the second mate of the schooner, who nods at the elven spy from south of the equator, and adds "The elf". Marv then hurries away before he's reprimanded by the captain of the vessel, who sourly smiles as he watches his second mate head below decks.
"What can i do for you?" quietly asks captain Folger the smuggler after he nods for Dalinvardél Tanith to follow him up onto the aft deck, and he waves away to the pair of sailors who are on watch up there.
"Leave on the night tide as i paid you to" quietly says the spy Tanith "Of course, i was planning to" says the smuggler "Not according to your second mate you're not" says the elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands.
With a scowl upon his weathered face, captain Folger mutters "Marv drinks too much at times, and doesn't know what he's saying". With a slight nod of his hooded head, Dalinvardél Tanith who has had a quick look around, says "For a ship that's about to leave later tonight, you're pretty light crewed" he continues with "Is that because you've given them shore leave?".
As a gust of wind rattles the rigging, the captain of the twin masted schooner opens and shuts his mouth as in the light of a nearby ship's lantern, he sees 'The elf' stare at him.
"Get the rest of your crew back onboard, and be prepared to leave" says the elven spy from south of the equator who then adds "And don't give me some bullshit excuse about it being difficult to leave tonight because of the blockade".
Dalin goes onto explain with "There's only three out this evening because they're sending more ships up the coast" the spy Tanith continues with "And the patrol vessel stationed north of the harbour is going to drift out to sea, allowing us easy passage north".
The smuggler who is taking this all in says "Us?" the elf who was once in the service of one of the noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae, nods his hooded head, and with a slight smile upon his face says "I'm going with you this time".
Captain Folger scowls again as he definitely doesn't want that, even if he was going to go north as was planned. The smuggler is about to protest, when the much taller elf, who stands half a foot taller than himself, quickly steps close to him and quietly says "Get the rest of your crew and get ready to sail".
The captain of the twin masted vessel tenses as he feels the point of a dagger press into his stomach, only the rough leather of his sea cloak protecting his belly from naked steel.
"If you're not ready by the time i return" quietly says the elven spy in a tone of voice the smuggler would definitely describe as menacing "I'll burn your ship down to the waterline" adds Dalinvardél Tanith.
"Are you threatening me?" hisses captain Folger, who then adds "On my own ship?". "No I'm telling you what will happen, it's not a threat" quietly says the spy Tanith, who presses the point of his hidden dagger in a bit, before pulling it away after he adds "Now do it".
He turns and walks away, and as he makes his way towards the ladder off the aft deck, the elf from south of the equator without looking back, quietly says "Be ready when i return, or else".
The smuggler gulps, then scowls as he watches 'The elf' make his way down off the aft deck, onto the main deck, then off the ship via a gang plank. Captain Folger mutters "Fuck" then after a pause, he yells the order "Shore leave is cancelled!" followed by "Mates and bosuns, go out and get those who have already gone ashore, i want them back here as quickly as possible!".
The captain of the twin masted schooner is no dummy, he knows of three ships, that can be described as smuggling vessels, that have been burnt down since the start of winter. Two here in the port of Falnic, and one down in the river town just to the south of the city. Captain Folger knew the captain of one of those destroyed ships, a captain who died in the fire that took his vessel.
"Fuck" mutters the smuggler, who after a shake of his head, calls out to a passing sailor "Make sure the cargo is secured below, we'll be sailing at all speed tonight when we leave the harbour and head up the coast".
Dalinvardél Tanith is heading through the streets of Falnic, he has a couple more things to do this evening before he leaves the city for a while. The first thing he's going to do, is kill someone.
Dalin, still in the northern part of the dock area of the harbour, heads a bit further into the city as night takes full effect. The spy Tanith is making his way to a tavern, that's had a change of ownership since the start of winter.
It's not long before he's there, at the backdoor of the tavern, that leads to the kitchen. The kitchen helper who is one of his paid informants, goes into the tavern propper to get the tavern keeper after the elven spy quietly tells him to, adding "Close the door behind him".
A few moments later and the kitchen helper returns with the tavern keeper, who steps outside and says "Garven here says you want a word" behind the proprietor, the kitchen helper closes the backdoor of the tavern.
Dalinvardél Tanith whips his dagger across the throat of the tavern keeper, and pushes him to the side so that blood doesn't spray on him. The tavern keeper falls to the ground clutching his throat as he dies, while the elven spy is already walking away.
Behind him the tavern keeper, who until the start of winter, was an assistant book keeper in the household of one of the justifier's of Falnic until he forcefully took over the tavern, dies as blood continues to pump out of the cut across his throat.
A little while later and still in the north of the city, Dalin is in the basement of a disreputable looking boarding house, he pushes aside a set of shelves, and pushes a section of the stone wall, the entire wall then slides to one side.
"You ready?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith "Aye we are" says a dwarf, one of four who are in the hidden room beneath the boarding house. He's with his wife, and two other dwarves, all four of them are city dwarves, who have lived in Falnic all their lives.
"The smuggler's vessel will be ready to leave when we get there" quietly says the elven spy as the four dwarves gather their packs, and shoulder them.
Then Dalin looks at the older dwarf who spoke to him after he opened the wall to the hidden room, and tells him "The one who took your tavern is dead".
The dwarf, a former tavern owner whose business was frequented by the dwarves of the Stone Hills when they used to visit the city of Falnic when they traded their goods, says "Aye, good" followed by "Thanks for that elf".
Nodding his hooded head, Dalinvardél Tanith says "No worries" then he looks at the four dwarves who he'll be smuggling out of the city of Falnic with a cargo of goods, most of which is stolen, adds "Let's go" . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 4.

Belinswae. Winter...

Riley Hait the mercenary ranger rolls his eyes as next to him Dorc da Orc loudly sighs for the umpteenth time this morning.
The ranger Hait doesn't bother asking the large ork what's wrong. After all it's basically all Dorkindle has talked about since the start of winter.
Ah fuck, here we go, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger dryly thinks to himself as Dorc da Orc says in a loud mutter "Why can't we be in the fucken war?".
The mercenary ranger, who in actuality is a hordes outrider from the southern tundra who happens to be in the body of Riley Hait, briefly thinks about not answering the ork warleader. But he decides to as the large ork might shut up about it if he does.
"You know perfectly well why we're not there" says the human ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands. "Oh, why's that?" asks the ork weaponsmith in a tone of fake innocence.
"Dorc" dryly says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks loudly sighs again, then he scowls, and follows that up by growling "Fucken dwarven cunts".
The ranger Hait rolls his eyes once more, and sourly smiles, and shakes his head as next to him Dorkindle grunts in disgust.
You can't exactly be in a war where you're killing your own side, Riley Hait dryly thinks to himself with a sideways look at the warleader of the ork race.
"Besides, we're kind of in the war" says the mercenary ranger, who briefly pauses then adds "Kind of". This time it's Dorkindle's turn to sourly smile and shake his head, then mutter "In a war ya fucken kills peoples, we not doing much of fucken that".
The two of them are near the Nomad's Plains, southeast of the coastal city of Falnic in the region of Belinswae. They're about forty miles southeast of the largest city in the region.
There's a cool winter's breeze blowing off the vast, dry plains to the east at the moment. On what's a relatively cold day for the area. Though relative is the optimal word here, for in comparison it's absolutely balmy here compared to the cold winter's day they're experiencing to the north of Belinswae, in the Stone Hills where war has broken out.
The two from south of the equator are beneath a dry looking tree, about forty yards from a road, which they've been watching on and off for the last handful of days. Not seeing anything of what they've been looking for.
The ranger Hait gets up and stretches, then after looking around, he says "I'll go into town and see if anyone has seen anything this morning". There's a small town about a mile and half north of where they are. It's one of the last places where townsmen live. As the villages and small towns further to the southeast along the road, are populated by half breeds, or half bloods. Those who are neither townsmen nor nomads, but those in between.
After grunting, and glad that some cloud cover is passing by overhead, Dorc da Orc says "What me gonna fucken do while you gone?". The mercenary ranger who knows it's best that the large ork is occupied. Sleeping would be better, but occupied will do.
Points to the south, and the otherside of the road, where in the distance amongst some rocky ground, he's spotted something. "You can go over there and bother that small flock that's wandered away from some poor farmer's fields".
Dorkindle who has been eyeing the flock in the distance for most of the early morning, grunts in approval at the idea of that.
While Riley Hait wryly smiles as he knows that the large ork, will 'bother' the sheep alright. He wonders how many of them will still be alive when he gets back, he suspects very few of them, or more likely none.
"Don't go too far" says Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson as he sets off, pretty comfortable in the fact the ork weaponsmith won't wander off too far, as the flock of sheep in the distance will keep him occupied for some time.
As the mercenary ranger from the principality of Maladimbáh heads north along the road, making his way to the nearby town. The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, crosses the hard packed dirt road. Wondering how best he can sneak up on the small flock of sheep in the distance.
Later, after mid morning, Riley Hait is jogging back south along the road from the small town, when he gets to near the tree he and Dorc da Orc were sitting under earlier. He looks to the west and south. And spots the large ork in the distance, sitting down amongst the rocky ground where the flock of sheep was.
The ranger Hait jogs towards the ork weaponsmith, and as he approaches him, he sees that Dorkindle has a gutted out sheep he's wearing on his head and over his shoulders. The ork warleader's big head is in the body cavity of the dead sheep.
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman just shakes his head as he sees that the dead sheep, that the large ork is wearing as a grotesque headpiece of some kind, has a startled look upon it's face.
"Like Dorc's pretty new hat?" asks Dorkindle, who reaches up and pats the dead sheep upon his head and over his shoulders, as he adds "It's nice and fluffy".
"Fetching" dryly says the ranger Hait, who shakes his head and silently adds, you fucking psycho!
The mercenary ranger spots one other dead sheep nearby on the ground, that's half eaten, there's no sign of the rest of the flock.
The ranger Hait asks the ork warleader "Where's the rest of them?". "Pissed off, when they saw me kill that one over there that me got all rapey on" says Dorkindle in a sour tone of voice.
"Smart sheep" murmurs Riley Hait in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra, who has always had the opinion that sheep are stupid animals. Until these one's realised that had to get out of here in a hurry when they saw one of their flock getting fucked to death by the large ork.
"This was the only other cunt me catch" says Dorc da Orc, who pats the dead sheep he's wearing on his head, and grins and adds "So me turns it into a fucken hat".
"Fascinating" dryly says Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson with a shake of his head, he then tells the large ork "Come on" followed by "We might have some company later".
The ork weaponsmith grunts in interest, and the mercenary ranger form the principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands explains to him "There's a squad north of town checking out all the farms that way".
The ork warleader grunts "Huh?" and the ranger Hait tells him "Seeing if there's anyone they've missed in pressing" Dorkindle frowns as he tries to remember what that means, then he grunts in understanding when he remembers.
"A farmer in that market square was coming in to town earlier this morning and saw them" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who looks towards the road as he continues with "I suspect they've been told to keep the road clear of bandits too" he pauses before he adds "Not that there's many of them about nowadays".
Dorc da Orc grunts as he gets up off the ground, then with the dead sheep still upon his head, the large ork from the bottom of the world follows the mercenary ranger back towards the road.
As they do, the ranger Hait says "If they stop in town for the midday meal, they'll check the few farms this way". There's very few farms belonging to those known as townsmen south of the nearby town. As what little farmland there is further to the south and east, is farmed by half breeds. As it's too close for comfort to the Nomad's Plains for townsmen to work the land.
The two from south of the equator make their way further down the road from where they were watching it from earlier beneath a dry looking tree.
The two of them go on either side of the road, with Riley Hait sitting down behind a pile of rocks, while Dorc da Orc plops himself down in a ditch on the otherside of the road as they wait.
The mercenary ranger who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra who just happens to inhabit the body of the ranger Hait. Pops his head out form the side of pile of rocks he's hunkered down behind.
And he sees a sheep's head and a large green ork's head in the cavity of the sheep's carcass, directly opposite him, sticking up out of the ditch on the otherside of the dirt packed road, in the dry countryside even now in winter.
The ranger Hait wryly smiles, and moves further away to his right. As he knows it's not particularly safe to be directly opposite Dorc da Orc with what they're planning to do.
As the large ork tends to throw things, and Riley Hait doesn't really want a thirty pound hammer being thrown in his direction, which is more than a little disconcerting at the best of times.
The mercenary ranger from south of the equator moves a bit further back from the road, and down from where Dorc da Orc is on the otherside of it. He gets behind a boulder, and no longer has a clear view to the north of the road in the direction of the town.
As he takes his bow and he strings it, Riley Hait isn't concerned he can't see north along the road now, for that's what Dorkindle is for, as the large ork is the lookout. Not that the ork warleader will just be using his sight to observe what's coming down the road from the small town.
The two of them wait, with Dorc da Orc slowly drinking two bottles of wine he's hoarded, while Riley Hait reads from a small book he's been carrying around with him since the end of autumn, when he purchased it in the city of Falnic, when he and Dorkindle were still with the rest of the group.
It's just after midday, when the mercenary ranger who is reading the book about the history of Belinswae and the Nomad's Plains, written from a neutral point of view by an elven scholar, in elven too. Hears Dorc da Orc say "Horsey".
The ranger Hait looks around the boulder, to where the large ork is on the otherside of the road, and he calls out to him "How many?". "Six" replies the ork warleader who holds up ten fingers. The mercenary ranger rolls his eyes, and suspects that there's probably ten or more riders approaching.
Riley Hait steps out from behind the boulder and looks north, he can't see any riders at the moment, but as he moves back down behind the boulder, he knows that the ork weaponsmith has heard and smelled the riders on the road approaching from the north.
Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson waits a little while, then he pops his head around the side of the boulder again and looks to where Dorc da Orc is on the otherside of the road, about twenty yards up from him.
He sees the dead sheep, and the large green ork head shoved up in the body cavity of the sheep carcass duck down out of sight in the ditch on the otherside of the road.
The mercenary ranger pulls his head back behind the boulder, and takes an arrow from his quiver, puts to the plate on the belly of his horse bow, and waits. It's not long before Riley Hait hears riders to the north on the road.
He doesn't have to look to know who it is, they're justifiers guards, most likely from the city of Falnic, they're the only one's nowadays who ride in numbers on the roads of Belinswae.
The ranger Hait knows most of them will be poorly armed and armoured, because many of them on patrol southeast of Falnic were road bandits back in autumn, who are now earning a better living in the service of one of the justifier's who rule the region of Belinswae.
They're out patrolling the roads, keeping them clear of road bandits, not that there's many of them even left now that there's war in the north in the Stone Hills. That's what they appear to be doing, but their main purpose while on patrol is to press gang anyone they see fit to serve in the armies of the justifier's of Belinswae, in the their war against the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills.
Riley Hait continues to listen, and hears the horses and their riders getting closer, the mercenary ranger waits for the signal, he doesn't have to wait long, as hears a loud roar from the otherside of the road, and a shouted "Get some!" from Dorc da Orc.
The ranger Hait wryly smiles as he steps out from behind the boulder drawing back his bow, he quickly takes aim at a target, and lets the arrow in the horse bow fly. The shaft takes the lead rider in the squad of mounted justifier's guards in the chest, knocking the man out of the saddle . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 3.

The Stone Hills. Winter...

The Stone Hills goes from the Great Western Ocean in the west. To nearly a hundred and twenty miles inland in the east. And the mountain range is exactly like it's name. Stoney and rocky, with very little vegetation. In the foothills on the south side is where you will see trees on the hills, and then it's often stunted, and oddly shaped due to the predominantly southerly wind that whips along the mountain range for much of the year, especially during the wintertime.
The mountains are often covered in fields of small rocks and shingle, or in some cases slate. Traveling through them is an often arduous and dangerous task. Which suits the inhabitants of the Stone Hills just fine, as they're used to it.
The Stone Hills are the domain of a number of dwarven clans. And though there's pockets of humans and goblins in the foothills, who are known as the free folk as they don't fall under the domain of the region of Belinswae.
It's dwarves who make up the population of those who dwell in the Stone Hills propper. Infact they're the largest dwarven population north of the equator on this, the western coast of the continent.
The dwarven clans, who were originally from the elven principality of Maladimbáh, until they were driven out in a war over two thousand years ago. Are as dwarven clans do, as they are in most places they live in the world of Volunell.
A fractious lot at best, as they always in conflict between a clan here, and a clan there. Often over the most trivial of things. As dwarves tend to disagree about a lot of things, and what would seem the smallest of slights from others, would often lead to war between two clans in the Stone Hills.
Though this winter, the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills have put their differences aside. Those in conflict with one another, or even outright war between clans have ceased to do so this winter.
For the dwarven clans have banded together for one of only the few times in their history, because the Stone Hills have been invaded. Invaded by the justifiers of Belinswae, and their armies. And in the winter, which defies belief.
With cloaks that look like the shingle around them, as they lie on the face of a peak. A squad looks south, as they watch the army upon the road to the south that snakes north through the foothills into the Stone Hills propper.
Predictably the wind is up, and blowing into their faces. Though the wind has blown away the flurry of snow that drifted across this part of the mountains earlier this morning.
The army which is about two and half miles from their position, isn't exactly moving fast, even though a number of the human guards are mounted.
There's a long supply line of wagons and carts to the rear, and this army. Like all of them from Belinswae that have advanced into the Stone Hills. Have learnt dearly, through suffering and death, not to leave their supplies too far behind them. Or it will cost them as they try to push on further to the north through the mountains.
The army is one of the bigger one's seen so far this winter, in excess of over a thousand guards, not including those bringing up the rear with the supply wagons and carts.
And with a bigger army, there's more wyverns in the sky accompanying them than usual. There's half a dozen flying above, lazily circling the army.
And there's that many flying out in all directions, scouting for the army, and protecting back the down the road they've been traveling along as they've moved northwards through the foothills. Infact one of the tame wyverns and it's crew flew a few hundred yards away to the west of where the squad is hidden, as it went to scout further to the north.
"Kind of wished we never maintained this road" whispers Thane Kraelin the dwarven warrior, the nephew of the chieftain of clan Kraelin continues whispering with "Good for sending our wagons for trade to the south in times of peace, but now it's a right fucking pain in the arse 'cause these bastards can come on in fairly easily".
"Aye" says Karne aka The Axe Thrower in a whisper, the veteran dwarven warrior with the snowy white beard then adds in a slightly dry tone "At least with the road we know where the buggers are and we don't have to wander around looking for them like a bunch of blind idiots".
Thane, are rather tall dwarf at nearly five foot in height, grunts in agreement with the much older dwarf who is his uncle's best friend and closest confidant.
The two of them are the only one's talking, as the rest of the squad are silent. As are they for few moments, before Thane quietly asks Karne "What say you Axe?" the nephew of Baedin the chief of clan Kraelin adds "What would you do?".
The Axe Thrower is silent for another moment or two as they continue to watch the progress of the army from Belinswae creeping northwards on the road through the foothills. Then the veteran dwarven warrior in a whisper details what he would do to attack the justifier's army that's heading into their clanhold.
Thane Kraelin listens in silence as Karne explains what he would do to attack this army below in the foothills, and how he would make it a running battle over a long period of time. For the army from Belinswae coming towards the Kraelin clanhold, predictably outnumbers the war parties in the area.
It's the one major advantage the justifiers of Belinswae have, and the only one they really need at the moment. They easily outnumber the warriors of the Stone Hill clans.
After listening to what old Axe Thrower has to say, Thane Kraelin whispers to him "Aye Axe, that's a good enough plan for me" followed by "Doubt if i could think of anything better".
The Axe Thrower nods, then he whispers to his old comrade's nephew "Aye, but what you and i think, don't necessarily matter Thane" he nods away to their left, and adds "It's what the lad thinks that's important".
The nephew of the clan Kraelin chieftain looks that way, to where behind a pile of slate, covered in the cloak, head and all, that resembles the surrounds. Is the only non dwarf in the squad.
Switching to the common language so that he can be more easily understood, Thane Kraelin quietly says to the individual behind the pile of slate "Lad, what think you of situation?".
Thane along with old Karne and the rest of the dwarven warriors of the squad listen to the individual behind the stack of loose and broken slate.
He talks quietly, with a hand over his mouth, and his head directed at the ground, so that the broken slate absorbs sound. Unlike other areas in the Stone Hills, where the ground if it's smooth and unbroken will often deflect sound, making it easier to heard at a distance.
Though he knows he doesn't have to speak above more than a whisper, as the dwarves with their naturally enhanced hearing, can easily hear what he has to say.
And what they hear him say, is almost exactly the same thing that Karne explained to Thane on how to attack the approaching army on the road to the south. The rest of the squad heard that conversation too, and they notice the similarities that the non dwarf, a human, says in comparison to what old Axe Thrower told the clan chieftain's nephew.
"Aye, that's what we would do" quietly says Thane Kraelin in the common language after the human has finished explaining what he would do if he was to attack the approaching army.
"Which is probably what they're expecting us to do, and it's why we're not going to do it" quietly says Tamric Drubine as he looks at the dwarves in the squad who are hidden like him as they observe the army from Belinswae heading up the road through the foothills towards the Kraelin clanhold.
The nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin in the Southlands faintly smiles as the two dwarven warriors Thane and Karne share a look, then Tam quietly tells them "We're going to do something else, and no where near here".
Then he nods to the circling wyverns above the army, and he quietly says "We've got to go, there's definitely a justifier with a force this large" the youngster from south of the equator then gestures at his sword, and adds "Don't want them to get lucky, and sense this, giving away our position".
Ordinarily taking orders from a human only thirteen years old would be out of the question. But this is not ordinary times, and he's not an ordinary thirteen year old.
They move on, heading up the slate covered peak, moving along a track that isn't noticeable unless you're standing on it. As it's primarily used by the wild mountain goats that are found throughout the Stone Hills.
They move swiftly, placing each foot with confidence, in the sure footed manner that all dwarves are born with. And which young Tam has learnt since being here with the clans of the Stone Hills.
They move without the army from Belinswae below, and their wyverns in the air, none the wiser that they're about. They make their way to a scattering of slate piles, damp like the surroundings all around from the snow that fell this morning, before being blown away by the wind this morning.
Slate piles that look like rock formations on the face of the peak. Within it a number of the warriors start moving a pile of slate to one side, which eventually reveals a hole. Which one by one the squad enters, with the last two dwarves covering back up the hole with the slate on the outside when they're just on the inside of the hole.
Tamric Drubine slides down on his butt until he gets to level ground, then he stands up in the narrow tunnel, it's tall enough so that he doesn't have to duck, which he's grateful for, as moving about in the tunnels and caverns and mines of the Stone Hills, is often arduous for someone who is much taller than a dwarf.
The nobleborn youngster who knows being underground makes it basically impossible for his sword to be sensed. As he has learnt that almost all spellcasters can't be bothered sensing through the ground unless they know an imminent threat is about.
Takes off his dwarven made cloak, and rolls it up, and slings it across his back after he straightens out his own winter cloak that he was wearing beneath it. The youngster from south of the equator who is glad to be out of the bitterly cold wind, is near the front of the squad as they head through the tunnel that's naturally made.
As always when he's with the squad, he's with Thane and Karne, with the clan chieftain's nephew behind him, and the old warrior walking infront of him, as they head through the tunnel that goes down.
The former heir to castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin in the Southlands has to briefly duck down as the top of the tunnel drops down for a bit, before it slightly widens out, allowing them to walk side by side in places.
Thane Kraelin comes alongside Tamric Drubine, and quietly asks him "So what do you think we'll do lad?" the dwarven warrior speaks in the common language, as Tam is still learning the language of the dwarves, and finds it more comfortable to speak in common when he's explaining something.
"We'll draw them off the road somehow, and hit them hard" quietly says the nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin who is grateful for the phosphorescent lichen growing in the tunnel, for the faint blue light gives him something to see by, as he as a human can't see in the dark like the dwarves can.
"When they come up out of the foothills and into the mountains themselves" adds Tam, who knows that the Stone Hills aren't a particularly tall mountain range, with the tallest peaks found in them, standing around twelve thousand feet tall, and those are further inland to the east.
"We'll take as much of their supplies too, and destroy the rest" says the nobleborn youngster from the Southlands who has been in the Stone Hills since the late spring. Has a unique position in the squad. He's not in charge, for Thane commands it, as well as the entire war party in this area of the Kraelin clanhold, with Karne as his second.
That might be so, but Tamric Drubine is listened to more than not. And they often end up doing what he suggests.
"Word came in last night that some of the other war parties to the west are coming this way to help us out" quietly says Thane Kraelin as the tunnel ramps down for a bit, before leveling out. Tam nods to this, while directly infront of the two of them, old Axe Thrower says "West?" followed by "Wait, isn't that madman and that squad of clanless with him, roving out that way?".
"He is" quietly says the nobleborn youngster from south of the equator, who tries to repress a grin, but fails to, as he hears and understands Karne mutter "Fuck" in the dwarven language, then he follows it up in common with "By the gods i hope he doesn't turn up".
"No such luck" sourly says Thane Kraelin, who then adds "He's joined up with Helnd's war party and is heading back here with them".
Tamric Drubine almost laughs as he hears the chorus of muttered swear words from nearly all of the squad as they head down through the naturally made tunnel that winds it's way down the interior of the peak.
"He'll behave himself" quietly says the youngster from the Southlands "I'm not so sure about that" dryly murmurs the nephew of the chieftain of the Kraelin clan of dwarves.
With that, Tamric Drubine thinks Thane is probably right, as the person they're discussing, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, does pretty much what he wants to do during a battle, unless there's one specific person there to command him.
As they continue down through the interior of the mountain, heading towards dwarven made tunnels that leads to an old mine in the peak behind the one they're in at the moment.
Thane and Tamric, and on occasion Karne discuss other things, one of which is the two dwarven warriors wanting to know where the youngster learnt so much about warfare.
"From your father and his retainers?" asks Thane Kraelin as they know Tam is of the nobility of a kingdom, faraway to the south of the equator. "Some" says Tamric Drubine, who after a brief pause as they go down some naturally formed steps adds "But mostly from those in the rest of the group" he continues with "I've studied with them".
Both Thane and old Karne nod in understanding, then the clan chieftain's nephew says "With him i gather lad?". Knowing who the dwarven warrior is referring to, Tamric Drubine says "Yes him".
Though the son of the former knight of castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin doesn't mention the other person he's predominantly learnt the ways of warfare from. Tam knows that if he did, the dwarves in the squad, or for that matter throughout the entire Stone Hills, wouldn't be pleased at all.
And that's putting it mildly, for they'll be mad as hell if they found that out . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 2.

The Stone Hills. Winter...

He's the first one down the hill. Which isn't surprising since the rest of the war party is dwarven and he's not.
He's to the east of the village, and running towards the road from the south. On the road is the carts and wagons of the force attacking the village.
With the carts and wagons, are just the carters, haulers and wagon drivers. No actual guards as such. Even though they're armed to protect their various modes of transportation.
There's nearly twenty of them, not that it bothers him, as he thinks that's a perfectly acceptable number for him to take on by himself as he leaves the rest of the war party behind.
As a hauler jumps off the back of a cart as he spots him, and draws a rather pitted looking shortsword, and calls out to the other haulers, carters and drivers "Hey back here!".
He throws the pick he's holding in his right hand, and draws a hatchet to go with the hammer he's holding in his left.
"Ha! Jolly good throw there Percy boy" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic as his thrown pick goes into the face and head of the hauler from Belinswae who jumped off the back of the cart,
The heavily armoured knight from the kingdom of Druvic in the Southlands, then rushes another hauler who comes around the side of the cart to see what all the fuss is about.
The nobleborn knight, who was once a paladin, and still thinks of himself as being one. Brains the unsuspecting hauler with his hammer.
"Take that you foul miscreant!" says the large, heavily armoured knight as his hammer smashes open the top of the head of the much shorter man from the region of Belinswae.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic south of the equator, jumps over the fallen hauler, and runs at the next man, a wagon driver who has jumped off the seat of his wagon, and is fumbling for a cudgel on his belt, as he tries to hold a round shield with his other hand as the earl of Lé Dic, who is now laughing, runs at him.
"Oi Percy!" calls out Marl the dwarven warrior, who is almost out of breath, as he yells out "Wait up!" Marl then mutters in the dwarven language "You fucking madman".
Next to Marl, who is second in command of the war party, though he makes all the decisions, as the large human who is technically in command, can't be trusted to make any right thinking decisions. Though tactically when it comes to warfare he's a bit of a genius, which isn't surprising as he is a knight after all.
Is the warrior Lommy, who puffing and panting for breath after running down the hill at a break neck speed as they and the rest of the war party tried to keep up with sir Percavelle Lé Dic, says in dwarven "Don't waste your breath Marl".
Lommy continues with "You know how the idiot gets" then after a taking a deep breath he adds in a dry tone of voice "It's not as though he needs our help".
Marl, who like Lommy is clanless, as is the rest of dwarven warriors in the war party, as they're either from the north of Belinswae, or here in the foothills where they live amongst the free folk in their villages and towns.
Grunts in agreement as they slow to a jog, and he sees the tall, heavily armoured knight smash a wooden round shield of a wagon driver with his hammer, then slam his hatchet into the face of the wagon driver, shouting "Take that!".
The nobleborn knight, who they know is the earl of Lé Dic in the kingdom of Druvic in the Southlands, all places they've never heard of before meeting sir Percavelle.
Runs at another carter, who is backing away in fright, wildly swinging a staff in front of him.
"Maybe that human will get lucky and whack that helm of his" muses Marl who then adds "Whack some sense into him". "We can only hope so" dryly says Lommy who like Marl lives and works amongst the free folk here in the foothills of the Stone Hills. Well they did before the justifiers of Belinswae decided to invade the Stone Hills at the start of winter.
"No such luck" says Marl as they jog up onto the road with the rest of the war party, who number just over twenty dwarven warriors. And they see sir Percavelle swat away the swinging staff with his hammer. Then stepping quickly forward, and with an under handed swing of his hatchet, he slams it into the groin of the wagon driver who tried to attack him.
After both he and Lommy wince, Marl sourly smiles as they hear the heavily armoured knight in the order of Saint Mar-che loudly pronounce "You'll be singing an octave or two higher after that old chap!" to the wagoner screaming in pain on the ground with a hatchet between his legs.
"They'll break" says Lommy, which proves to be true, as a number of those who have remained with the carts and wagons, flee rather than stay and fight the nobleborn knight from south of the equator.
"Secure the wagons and carts!" orders the dwarven warrior Marl in his native language, then he nods his head, which has a pot helm on it. When Lommy gestures to the hill next to the one they ran down.
There the larger war party in the area led by the Kraelin clan warrior Helnd, are coming down it from the cover of stunted trees to attack the justifiers guards who have been attacking the village of the free folk.
"We'll attack the village from this side" states Marl, who then yells out in the common language "Percy forget him!" as the heavily armoured knight is chasing after a carter who is trying to flee, by circling around the dwarves with Marl and Lommy, and run away to the south.
The clanless dwarven warrior who is second in command to the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic in the Southlands, then adds in common "The village, attack the guards there!" and points to the village which is just down the road from them.
The earl of Lé Dic, who has stopped and lifted the visor of his full helm, after throwing his hammer at the back of the fleeing carter, who drops to the ground screaming after being hit.
Looks to where the dwarf Marl is pointing, and says "Righto" followed by "Very well my fine stunted fellow, off to chastise those villains attacking these poor innocent villagers" the heavily armoured knight slaps the visor of his full helm shut, and heads to the village, loudly shouting "For Saint Mar-che! And the mighty god Narille!".
After Lommy and another of the warriors drags a hauler out from beneath a cart by his legs, and Marl slams his axe into the back of the struggling haulers head.
He looks towards the nearby village, and sees those of the war party not tasked to secure the carts and wagons, following after sir Percavelle who though in his early forties, is extremely quick for a human, and has the fortitude and stamina equivalent to a dwarf.
Marl spots the weapon that the heavily armoured knight is now holding, Lommy has seen it too, and he dryly says "A lot of them are going to go flying". Marl, who has a brown beard that's down to mid chest, nods his head in agreement as he sees what looks like to be long dagger in the gauntleted left hand of sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Straightening his pot helm after quickly looking around, Marl says to Lommy and those not taking the carts and wagons off the road "Come on lads, off after the others and the madman" and they head for the village. Which is being counter attacked by a force of over a hundred and twenty dwarven warriors and free folk fighters on it's north side.
The madman as he's referred to by the dwarven warriors of the war party that he's been given to lead. Infact he's referred to as the madman by all the fighters in the Stone Hills army, who know who he is, or have heard of him and know of his reputation.
Walks around the side of a house as he enters a village, and kicks a justifier's guard in the back. The guard next to him, a bowman, who has been shooting at some free folk fighters barricaded in the nearby village tavern.
Spins around in surprise to find the heavily armoured knight standing behind him. He's even more surprised when he suddenly goes flying backwards thirty five feet through the air, until he smashes head first into the corner of the house next door after sir Percavelle Lé Dic stabs him with the sword of knockdown, his magical sword.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che looks around as he joined by a number of the war party, and says to them "Right you little chaps, you go down there to the left, and see if you take these foul fends of those evil justifiers who are bothering these poor folks".
The nobleman who is the earl of Lé Dic in his homeland of Druvic points to one side of the village tavern as he says this, then he tells the dwarven warriors "While i shall attack it from the front" where a large number of the justifier's guards who are attacking the village, are trying to gain entry into the barricaded tavern.
The heavily armoured knight who fair towers over the dwarven warriors in his company. As he stands a couple of inches over six foot, and the tallest of them is five foot tall, with most being around four foot, eight inches tall to about four foot, teen inches.
Doesn't wait for an answer from any of them, and is off and running, the former paladin who was amongst the highest ranks of his knightly order, until he took off on an unsanctioned quest, taking with him one of the order's holiest items, which is also magically powerful.
Barely glances at a dead woman and child lying on the ground as he leaps over them as he heads towards the front of the tavern. Where he sees some of the justifier's guards trying to bust their way into it. Break off, as they hear calls from the north of the village, which is being counter attacked by a fairly decent sized war party of dwarven warriors and free folk fighters.
With his sword of knockdown in one gauntleted hand, and a pick hammer in the other, sir Percavelle Lé Dic runs down the street towards the tavern, not bothering in stealth. Infact he pretty much announces his intentions.
For when an arrow careens off his right shoulder plate, the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che loudly calls out "Prepare to face your better, for you lot who don't know, that would be me, the greatest knight in the world, the mighty sir Percavelle!".
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic in the Southlands adds "All who stand in my path, i shall smite down with furious vengeance". Then sir Percavelle Lé Dic, swinging both the sword of knockdown, and his pick hammer, leaps forward onto a group of justifier's guards, who have turned from the barricaded tavern to see what the shouting is all about.
"Saint Mar-che!" yells the heavily armoured knight in a suit of full plate armour as he goes crashing into half dozen guards in the justifier's army that has invaded the Stone Hills this winter.
Marl and Lommy, and a few others in the war party enter the village, and run between houses towards where they hear the heaviest of the fighting on this side of the free folk village.
It's not hard to locate the heavy fighting, for they can easily hear the one who commands their war party. The constant "Take that!" that he shouts draws them to where he is.
"There, over there, it's some of the lads" says Lommy as he spots some of their war party between a stable and what looks like to be a tavern, where they're fighting a number of justifier's guards.
Lommy slams his hammer into the legs of a justifier's guards with a head wound, who has blood running down his forehead, basically blinding him as he staggers their way.
As the human drops to his knees screaming in pain as his legs are whacked out from beneath him. Marl slams his axe into his head, taking off the top of the skull from the bridge of the nose upwards.
Lommy kicks the body over, and after Marl says to the dwarven warriors with them "Help the lads out". He and Lommy share a look, and they both roll their eyes, as they hear a familiar, not to mention loud voice call out from the otherside of the tavern "Not to fear good people, it is i, the great sir Percavelle, who has come to gallantry rescue you from the tyranny of these foul fiends from the lands to the south!" which is followed by a "Take that!".
Marl and Lommy go and help the others who are attacking the justifiers guards who are around this side of the tavern and the stables. As they do, the clanless dwarven warrior who is second in command of the small war party led by sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Spots out of the corner of his eye, other dwarven warriors moving between the houses of the village from the north side. Amongst those clan warriors of the Stone Hills, Marl spots a tall figure of a human with them. It's a teenage girl, or more precisely a young woman, in light armour, with a crossbow in her hands, and a number of blades at her disposal.
The runner, good, Marl thinks to himself as he and Lommy hurry forward to help the others attack the justifier's guards, he then silently adds, maybe she can get him too listen, and talk some sense into that thick skull of the madman.
Though as he goes to chop his axe at a man from Belinswae who swings a sword at him, which passes over his head. Marl knows talking sense to sir Percavelle Lé Dic is one thing, having him actually listen and take it in, is another thing entirely different . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One!

The Stone Hills. Winter...

Lisell Maera hops over some rocks, and keeps low as she makes her way along the trail. The orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands. Glances to her left, down at the village of free folk at the base of the foothill below. Lisell, or Lis as she's often referred to, grimaces as she sees and hears what's happening down there this morning.
The teenager from south of the equator jumps over another pile of rocks, and jumps into a trench that's been dug into the hard ground just below the trail she's been running along.
"Where is he?" asks Lisell Maera in the common language "Over yonder" says the dwarven warrior she's jumped down beside, he nods away to the right and down from the trench, and adds "Behind the stunted trees, at the emplacement".
"Thanks" says Lis in the dwarven language "No worries lassie" says the warrior in the same language. Well that's what the teenager from the Southlands thinks he says. As she has only recently started to learn the dwarven language, and is free to admit it's a hell of a lot harder to learn than elven was.
It doesn't help matters that's she's trying to learn it during a war, as learning something such as a language during wartime is never an easy thing to do.
Lisell Maera makes her way along the trench, keeping low as it's a rather shallow affair to begin with. After all it's been made by dwarves, for dwarves. Not a lanky, nearly sixteen year old from the Southlands.
Lis who is glad to be out of the cold southwest wind that's blowing. Nods her head as the dwarven warriors, who are crouched down and waiting, greet her by her nickname of Lis, or call her "Runner" as she passes them by.
The teen from south of the equator, gets to the end of the trench, and waits for the dwarven warrior at the end to give her the go ahead. As he stands there with a raised hand and looks down the foothill, he eventually says in the common language to the orphaned teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury "Go runner".
Lisell Maera who is a runner and messenger in the army, gets up out of the trench, and quickly heads down to where the stunted trees are.
Lis is just glad that they're in the foothills at the moment. Because to the north in the Stone Hills proper, there's pretty much no tree cover anywhere. As the saying goes 'They're not called the Stone Hills for nothing'.
The runner gets amongst the trees, which hardly does anything to cut down on the cold wind blowing from the southwest. Here in the trees, Lisell passes more dwarven warriors who are crouching and kneeling behind the trees.
She even sees a number of free folk fighters within the trees, the teenager from south of the equator sees more than a few grimaces on the faces of these humans as they watch and listen to what's happening down in the village below.
Lisell Maera comes upon the emplacement, it's a dug out hole in the hard ground, surrounded by rocks and a number of trees. Within it is a ballista, behind which is a barrel winch, with a long chain wrapped it, the barrel winch is connected to the ground by chains, that have been cleverly bolted into bedrock, the bolts have then been covered in the quick setting stone that the Stone Hill dwarves use when they build things.
The end of the chain wrapped around the large barrel and winch is linked to a heavy long spear in the ballista. The missile within the war machine is ready to fire by the crew who operate it.
Amongst the dwarven warriors within the emplacement, Lis spots the leader of this particular war party. The lanky teen, who is nearly sixteen years old, and is already five foot elven, who towers over all the dwarves. Marches up to the warrior in charge, the other dwarves are quick to get out of the way of the young human, who they know has a bit of daring demeanour, not to mention temper. And the fact she's pretty skillful with the blades she carries.
"Why are you waiting?" demands Lisell Maera as she basically stands over Helnd the dwarven warrior, and looks down at him.
The clan Kraelin warrior who is in charge of the war party, refrains from sourly smiling, and tugging on his braided beard. The dwarven warrior who has his blond beard in twin braids, would ordinarily tell a messenger to fuck off if they talked to him like Lis just did.
But he knows this young human is no ordinary runner or messenger, and that she comes from up high, so to speak.
"We wait" says Helnd of the Kraelin clan dwarves, who points beyond the free folk village below, to further south, and adds "Pair of wyverns were spotted earlier just before they attacked" the dwarf who has a strong command of the common language continues with "They tend to do sweeps, this one starting south, which means they'll cover the ground to the north next, this is the way the riders operate".
Lisell Maera nods in understanding and agreement. And refrains from what she was intending to do, which was to angrily yell at Helnd to order the attack.
Besides she trusts the judgement of the dwarven warrior from clan Kraelin in charge of this war party. Who is normally half drunk most of the time, and a talkative and boastful drunk at that.
Though during times of war as it is now, Helnd is stone cold sober, and won't touch a drop of alcohol until the war is either won or lost.
"How goes it to the east?" asks Helnd as he knows Lis has come from that way "They've sent scouts through and we've picked them off" replies the teen orphan from the Southlands, who left her post just after sunrise, to run the five miles through the foothills to get here.
"Any riders that way?" asks the dwarven warrior who is command of the war party numbering about a hundred and twenty. Just over a hundred warriors from a handful of clans, and the rest being free folk fighters. Those humans whose villagers and towns have been the first to be attacked by the armies of Belinswae.
"None" replies Lisell Maera, who then adds "And no justifiers too" Helnd grunts then says "That's a relief" the dwarven warrior who carries a number of axes, including a waraxe with a heavy crescent shaped head, adds "By Thaxel i hope there's not a one on the beasties we spotted earlier".
Lis nods her head in agreement with that, as there's no delvers or spellcasters in the vicinity to counter any justifier who might be in the area.
The teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands is just about to answer Helnd who has just asked her "Any of that other lot you run with nearby lassie?" followed by "He's not here is he?". When there's a whistle from somewhere further downhill amongst the stunted trees.
The dwarven warrior in command of the war party moves to the front of the hole in the ground, and climbs up on some rocks in the ground so he can see more clearly to the south. Lis joins him on a rock next to those he's standing on, then Helnd quietly says "There they be" the dwarven warrior with the twin braided beard adds "There be the flying beasties".
Lisell Maera nods her head as she spots the two wyverns that Helnd points at, and though the teenage orphan from south of the equator knows she can't see the large flying creatures as clearly as the dwarven warriors can, she can see them clearly enough as they head westwards, briefly disappearing behind a hill before they turn northwards.
Helnd jumps off the rocks, and gives a few orders, he doesn't have to say too much, as the dwarven warriors know what to do. Lis gets down off the rock she was standing on, and moves out of the way. The runner takes her crossbow from across her back, and slides the underside back, putting it into firing position as she loads a bolt into it.
"Steady lads" is what Lisell Maera thinks Helnd says to the ballista crew in the dwarven language as they watch the pair of wyverns sweeping around from the west as they head north, towards the hills behind the free folk village, where the war party is waiting in hiding.
Seeing the wyverns drop closer to the ground, the ballista crew who number five, being to slowly move the war machine to one side on its stand, as they track the large, tame, flying creatures from Belinswae.
The dwarves and the free folk fighters of the war party, along with Lis, hiding amongst the stunted trees. Know it's the wyverns who will spot them if they're spotted, well before the riders on them do.
Helnd has raised his right hand, as one of the wyverns banks away, and heads across the village below, going from west to east, before it turns back northwards.
While the other wyvern, heads north, comes in from the west, from the right of the war party amongst the trees on the foothill right behind the village.
Helnd drops his hand and barks an order in the dwarven language "Shoot the" is what the teenager from south of the equator understands he says, she's pretty sure the last word is a swear word, one she has yet to learn.
There's a thunk that reverberates through the hole that's been dug in the ground as the ballista is fired. The heavy long spear is shot off into the sky, trailing the chain attached to it, behind it.
Lis doesn't see it hit, but she does hear the wyvern that's sweeping above the ground, about eighty yards down from the emplacement, squawk loudly in pain as the missile goes through it's left wing and into it's hide.
There's yelling and shouting within the emplacement, and a couple more dwarven warriors jump into the hole to help with the winding of the winch barrel as the screaming wyvern is brought down.
The orphan teenager from the Southlands jumps out of the hole in the ground, as does Helnd, who calls in the common language to the others in hiding "Wait".
They watch as the crippled wyvern, with a ten foot long heavy spear, pinning it's left wing to it's side, descend quickly towards the ground. As the chain attached to the long spear is pulling it down as the dwarves on the barrel winch are furiously winding it in.
A couple of the wyvern riders fall from the large flying creature, and another jumps from it, just before the wyvern lets out a loud squawk of distress, then crashes it to the hillside with a loud thud.
"First squads!" calls out Helnd in both the dwarven and common languages, as the ballista crew release the chain, and reload the war machine, this time with a thicker spear, that they don't attach a chain too, as it'll take too long to do, as the other wyvern alerted by the downing of the first, is heading up the hill from just to the east of the village below.
Lis who glances at the thicker long spear in the ballista, slightly winces as she sees the slight depression down the length of the shaft. The teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands knows what that particular missile is designed to do, and what's in it.
As the first of the warriors and free folk fighters head downhill through the stunted trees, some towards the village below, and the others to the downed wyvern, that's still alive by the squawks of pain that's constantly coming from it, from where it lies on the side of the foothill.
The second wyvern from Belinswae sweeps over the trees, going over where the downed wyvern lies. Riders upon it's back, use bows and crossbows to shoot at the Stone Hill war party on the ground.
Their shots are wildly inaccurate as shooting at moving targets on the ground in partial cover, from something moving in the sky is a difficult task, unless you're highly skilled with a ranged weapon like a bow or crossbow.
There's a thunk that reverberates from the hole in the ground that's the ballista emplacement. The thick long spear heads off into the sky as the wyvern in the sky, a reddish coloured one that slightly glistens in the dull sunlight of the cold winter's morning, banks away to the west as it goes to circle around to sweep over the patch of stunted trees again.
The missile just hits the wyvern above it's left hind leg as it's circling. The spearhead goes in, but the thick shaft as it's intended to do, shatters. The reddish coloured wyvern lets out an almighty loud squawk as the acid incased within the thick spear, splatters across its hindquarters when the missile shatters apart.
As the wyvern wobbles in the sky, and it furiously flaps it's wings and veers away to the south over the free folk village below, no matter what the riders upon it are trying to do, to get it to either land or turn it around.
Helnd the dwarven warrior calls out in dwarven then common "Rest of the squads move down!".
Lisell Maera joins the dwarven warrior in command of the war party, as he heads down the hill, he like most of the warriors are heading to the village below that's under attack from a force of guards from Belinswae.
"There's probably more of them than us down there" says Helnd as he glances at Lis, as a number of free folk fighters have been fighting the guards from the Belinswae down in the village for some time this morning. Knowing that they've had the protection of the wyverns if anyone was to break cover from the foothills and come to the aid of those in the village below.
Helnd who had been waiting for the pair of wyverns to get in range of the ballista emplacement, then says "Thank Dovarn there was no justifier with them beasties".
Lisell Maera nods her head in agreement, then the clan Kraelin dwarven warrior frown as he looks away to the foothill to their left. Where he spots movement, heading down it, in the direction of the free village below. They're dwarven warriors, and amongst them Helnd spots someone else.
"Oh fuck me" says Helnd in an exasperated tone, he then adds "Lassie i asked you if he was here" the dwarven warrior follows that up with "And there he is!".
"Ah yeah" says Lisell Maera who looks away to the east at the foothill she crossed earlier to get to this one, the teenager from south of the equator, who earlier saw who Helnd is referring to, says "He's in the area".
"Fuck me" mutters the dwarven warrior in command of the war party as they run down the hill through the stunted trees, Lis faintly smiles as he sourly adds "That fucking madman about is all we need" . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! Prologue 3.

Falnic, Belinswae. Autumn...

"Which one have you mostly been talking to?" asks Baedin Kraelin the dwarven chieftain "That young one, the wizard Sammacin" replies the dwarven chieftain Lomi Galve, who then adds "He's the only one speaking any sense".
The head of the Kraelin clan nods his head in agreement, then his fellow clan chieftain from the Stone Hills says in a slightly dry tone "Which is kind of odd, considering the times I've meet him in the past, that young justifier was a shit heel of the highest order".
With that, the hammermaster Baedin Kraelin definitely agrees. For the times he's previously done business here in Falnic over the last few years. The youngest justifier in the coastal city, the wizard Sammacin was easily the worst to deal with. Infact the chief of clan Kraelin thought there was something seriously wrong with the young wizard.
But during this visit to the largest city in the region of Belinswae, the young justifier Sammacin has been the only voice of reason amongst the justifiers. Who rule Falnic and Belinswae as if they were nobleborn.
Infact they rule it more thoroughly than most nobles of various kingdoms, on both sides of the equator.
"That Parquet El and Kaellin are the worst of the lot" says chief of clan Galve "Aye that's true" says Baedin Kraelin in agreement, the hammermaster continues with "Kaellin because he's in a shit because the elves of Maladimbáh refused his plan to station part of his army in the principality to attack the nomads in the plains, not just once, but twice now".
"Those bloody leaf eaters wouldn't want another nation's soldiers there no matter how much he offered them" mutters Lomi Galve, who then snorts, and says "Bloody humans, don't they know they're the same people, both tribesmen and townsfolk?".
"They'll never realise they're the same" quietly says the chief of clan Kraelin, who like pretty much all dwarven kind north of the equator, on this western side of the continent.
Knows that the townsfolk of Belinswae, and the tribal nomads of the hot, arid plains to the east. And for that matter, those called half bloods or half breeds who live on the edge of Belinswae society. Are infact the one people.
Originally from the plains where they lived tens of thousands of years ago. Where those who moved towards the coast, and eventually settled there. Became the people of Belinswae. While those who remained on the plains became the tribal nomads.
There was also a third distinctive group of the same people. Who left the plains and headed south tens of thousands of years ago. What happened to them, dwarven lore is not exactly sure of.
Though there's rumor that they set up their own society in lands far, far away to the south of the equator. In lands not too dissimilar than their original homeland the Nomad's Plains. Though a land that's supposedly even more inhospitable. With short hot summers, and long freezing winters.
"Aye, they'll never bloody learn" says Lomi Galve with a shake of his head, then the chieftain of the Galve clan adds "As for that Parquet El, that justifier is a sour fucker through and through" the chieftain of clan Kraelin nods in agreement, and Lomi Galve tells him "I've never meet a more disagreeable individual" he pauses for a moment, then adds in a slightly dry tone "And that includes you too".
The hammermaster Baedin Kraelin chuckles at that as the two of them stand near a corner of the small courtyard at the back of the dwarven owned tavern near the docks, where they meet each other yesterday.
"I don't know what it is, but they're spoiling for a fight for sure" quietly says the hammermaster who has been the chieftain of clan Kraelin for the last eighty years. Having taken over from an uncle, who got himself killed in a battle against clan Galve.
And though Baedin Kraelin hasn't exactly liked clan Galve over the years. He doesn't hold it against them for killing his uncle. Who was an asshole of the worst kind in the opinion of the hammermaster. Who believes his uncle got what he deserved in that battle.
"Aye, something's got up their arses for sure" says Lomi Galve, who is silent for a few moments, and glances to the back door of the tavern, where stands Varl the swordmaster of clan Galve, and Karne aka Axe Thrower of clan Kraelin watching the two chieftains from the Stone Hills.
The Galve clan chief nods for the swordmaster to step inside, after a moment, and after a glance sideways at him from his fellow chieftain, the chief of clan Kraelin nods for the Axe Thrower to step inside too. Karne does so, closing the door behind him. Leaving the two clan chiefs out in the small courtyard by themselves.
"Alright then, by Dovarn's beard, what is it?" quietly asks the clan chieftain who is a hammermaster, stepping closer, Lomi Galve who prefers the axe over the hammer when it comes to battle, quietly asks his fellow chieftain from the Stone Hills "Have you lot found a new seam?".
Baedin Kraelin runs a hand through his thick grey beard that goes down to his waist, to stop himself from scowling at the chief of clan Galve. The hammermaster stays silent, and doesn't answer that. And in his silence he's surprised when Lomi Galve quietly tells him "We have, about three years back now" he pauses before adding "Gold mostly".
Baedin Kraelin lets out a long breath, then he says "Aye, just last year" the chieftain of clan Kraelin doesn't mention it's the first new seam in the mines of his clanhold for nearly two decades, but he does tell his fellow chieftain from the Stone Hills "Gold too in our one".
"Aye thought as much" quietly says the chieftain of clan Galve who then tells his fellow chieftain "We aren't the only one's to do so in recent years, clan Mard and clan Omban have too".
Baedin Kraelin nods, for he had heard about clan Mard's new seam, for he and the chieftain of clan Mard are old friends. He hadn't heard about the one in clan Omban, which isn't surprising, as that clanhold is at the other end of the Stone Hills from his clanhold.
"You think these justifiers might know of some of this?" asks the head of clan Kraelin who can see where his fellow chieftain is going with this "Aye i do" says Lomi Galve who continues with "The lads from all the clans drink when they come down here to Falnic, they might of let something slip when they're drunk".
The hammermaster grunts to that, as he knows that's true enough. Then he looks sharply at the head of clan Galve who quietly tells him "Then there's the fact that the bastards are all spellcasters, they can read our thoughts if they like" Lomi Galve then sourly adds "Our delvers don't exactly like traveling away from home to counter the spellcraft of the justifiers".
Baedin Kraelin sourly smiles to that, for that's definitely true. As his cousin Barmil the delver hates leaving the clanhold, let alone the Stone Hills themselves.
Rubbing his chin through his beard, the hammermaster says "What think you?" the chief of clan Galve is silent for a few moments, then he tells his fellow chieftain "What i think is that the justifiers, well most of them at least are planning for war" Lomi Galve looks Baedin Kraelin in the eye and says "And not against the nomads they usually raid against, they've got their eyes pointed north, for a war against us in the Stone Hills".
"Fuck" mutters the hammermaster Kraelin, who was coming to this realisation himself even before he met up with his fellow clan chieftain yesterday. "Aye, fuck" says the chief of the Galve clan who shakes his head.
The two chieftains from the Stone Hills talk for a little while longer, then they make their way inside the tavern. There they gather up their warriors, and make their from the dwarven owned tavern near the docks.
Just outside the tavern, as they prepare to part ways, the two chieftains stand off to one side, and Lomi Galve quietly says "I've got another get together planned with that young Sammacin later today, hopefully he can smooth things over with his fellow justifiers" he then adds "If not, then".
Baedin Kraelin nods to that open ended sentence from his fellow chieftain from the Stone Hills, then the hammermaster quietly says "Well if it all turns to shit, then if they want a war, they'll bloody well get one".
Just then there's a loud roar away to their right, they along with their two parties of warriors, look up the street to their right.
"What the fuck is that thing?" mutters Lomi Galve, who then adds "It looks like a stunted troll, a retarded one at that".
"It looks fucking demented, that's what it looks like" murmurs Baedin Kraelin as they watch a large green creature come barreling down the street in their direction, roaring and yelling out in some totally incomprehensible language, that sounds like it's more growling than it is words.
Whatever it is, the hammermaster Kraelin murmurs to his fellow clan chieftain "That thing has got enough weapons to arm a war party". Then the two of them, along with their respective parties of warriors, grab the hilts and hafts of weapons, as the large green creature, goes to grab a large axe and a large hammer as it runs down the street in their direction.
Suddenly, almost out of no where, a large heavily armoured figure, a human by the looks of it, is behind the big green creature, and grabs the strappings of the harness for holding weapons the angry, roaring green individual has on, and pulls him up short.
The large human in the dark heavy plate armour then hauls the green fellow back up the street, against his wishes as he's kicking and screaming, and yelling incoherently.
Both Baedin Kraelin and Lomi Galve wince when the human punches the big green creature, that isn't a troll, and definitely not a goblin in the face.
There's a dazed look on his face, which disappears and turns blank when another punch hits him in the side of the head. The large, heavily armoured figure then picks up massive green creature as easily as you like, and puts him on a shoulder as he walks up the hilly street that leads away from the harbour.
"The fuck?" says Lomi Galve after a moments silence, then he adds "What the hell was that?" Baedin Kraelin just shakes his head for an answer.
The chief of clan Galve then says "That big noisy bloke must be at least five hundred weight, and that fellow in the full plate carried him around like nothing".
"Over seven hundred weight, easily too" says the hammermaster Kraelin as they watch the large man in the dark, heavy plate armour that covers him from head to toe, carry the big green, unconscious figure, who they can hear loudly snoring, up the hill. Where at the corner of a side street, appears a group of people, who it seems are waiting for them.
Baedin Kraelin frowns, then he glances over at his nephew Thane, who has noticed the same thing as he has. His sister's son nods when he sees him looking at him, for he has noticed the same thing.
"I've seen two of them before" quietly says the chief of clan Kraelin who gestures to the group up the hillside street waiting for the heavily armoured figure carrying the big, bulky unconscious green creature.
"Oh?" says Lomi Galve "That southern ranger there, and that elf in the grey" says the hammermaster who continues with "Saw them the last time i was in Falnic in the summertime" the chief of clan Kraelin adds "Briefly spoke to the ranger, who spoke perfect dwarven".
The Galve clan chief lifts his bushy eyebrows at that, as very few humans here in Belinswae speak dwarven, and the only one's who really do, are the free folk who live north of Belinswae proper, in the pasture lands and foothills of the Stone Hills.
Baedin Kraelin sees the ranger, who he recalls, told him he's from south of the equator, visiting Belinswae. Spot him as he looks down the street, and nod to him when he sees the dwarven hammermaster looking back uphill at him.
The Kraelin clan chieftain nods in return, as his fellow clan chief, and their respective parties watch what's going on. They see the large heavily armoured figure stop and talk to an individual in a white hooded cloak when he reaches the group waiting for him.
The one in the white cloak glances downhill at the dwarves from the Stone Hills, and shakes his hooded head no. Then the entire group up the hill, turn and walk into the side street, and disappear from view.
"Strange" murmurs Lomi Galve, who then shakes his head, and tells his fellow Stone Hills clan chieftain "I'm off" he follows that with "I'll get in contact if something worthwhile comes from my meeting with the young justifier Sammacin" he then adds "Though I'm not counting on anything".
The two groups of dwarven warriors part ways, and with the Galve clan members heading inland in the city, the Kraelin clan members head north along the harbour to where the inn they're staying at is in the north of the city of Falnic.
"I'm telling you, that was an ork" says one of the dwarven warriors who sounds more than a bit drunk, and it's not even midday yet "You need to go back to that tavern and down more ale Helnd, you're brains aren't pickled enough for you to make sense" dryly says Thane Kraelin which causes the other warriors to laugh.
Then Thane adds "Everyone knows the bastard orks live in the snow and ice at the bottom of the world, and they can't stand the heat elsewhere".
Baedin Kraelin nods his head in agreement with his nephew, as does Karne aka Axe Thrower who is walking beside him as they head back to their inn.
Though the hammermaster who is the chief of clan Kraelin does slightly frown as the obviously drunk Helnd slurs "I tell you, that big green beastie looked exactly like what the old tales of orks say they do".
That ranger did say him and at the elf are from south of the equator, maybe that green creature with them is from there too? Baedin Kraelin thinks to himself, the chieftain of clan Kraelin then silently adds, just how fucking south is that green fellow from? . . . . . .