Aftermath 73.

The Kaldel Plains...

It's after midday, early in the afternoon when they've got all the illegal wreckers loot back to the village.
And as Mira Reinholt the mage and Helbe the elven thief go over the plans of what they'll do.
Dorc da Orc remains where he's been since earlier this morning. Leaning against the front of the badly damaged two storey house, looking across the village green at the burnt out remains of a pair of airships.
The large ork hasn't said a word since he got here in the morning. He's just growled at anyone who has come up to him to speak to him, as he stands there with the cloak wrapped dead body of Teabagger the goblin Cunt in his arms.
The two spellcasters, the mage Reinholt and the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel after finalising their plans. Make their way over to the ork warleader.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world doesn't even look at them, he just growls at the two of them when the mage from the city-state of Vexil goes to speak.
"Here me out Dorc" says Mira Reinholt the mage as the large ork just growls at him and his fellow spellcaster, Helbe the elven thief.
"We'll be leaving either later this afternoon, or early in the morning" adds the once powerful mage as Dorkindle continues to growl.
"Either way, whatever you're going to do, you might as well do it now, and get it over with" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who gestures to where the unconscious illegal wrecker, the plainsman, Pallen the blademaster lies nearby.
There's a pause in the growling of the ork weaponsmith, who then grunts. The first sound he's made since turning up on the village green this morning, that wasn't a growl.
The big burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
Looks at the two spellcasters who are members of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque. Then he looks over at the unconscious Pallen the blademaster, and growls once more, followed by a grunt and a nod of his head as he looks back at the Vexilian mage in exile and the elven magic user from the island principality of Laerel.
"I gather that's a yes he'll do something" dryly murmurs Helbe the elven thief in the elven language, next to him, his fellow spellcaster and councillor, the mage Reinholt nods in agreement.
Then they watch as the large ork, who has unwrapped the blood soaked cloak from around his left leg. But still has one wrapped around his throat and neck.
Turn his head from side to side as he sniffs. After a little while of doing that, the warleader of the ork race grunts. Then pushes off from the front of the badly damaged two storey house, here on the northwest corner of the village green.
The swordmaster Reinholt and the elven masterthief are quick to get out of his way. And the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks makes his way over to where the unconscious illegal wrecker lies.
Dorc da Orc picks up Pallen the blademaster, and slings the tall plainsman over his left shoulder.
Then with the cloak wrapped body of the goblin commander in the crook of his right arm. The large ork turns and starts walking west across the village green, and out of the village itself.
"Someone better keep an eye on him" says Mira Reinholt "I'd rather not watch whatever it is he'll do to that plainsman" says Helbe the elven thief.
The young elven noble from the island of Laerel, who is the grandson of the ruling prince of that particular elven principality looks around, then calls out "Tam, Dalin over here!" and waves to the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, and the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae to join him and his fellow councillor the mage Reinholt.
"I want you to follow Dorc and keep an eye on him" says the elven masterthief, the young field commander and the elven spy share a look, then nod that they will.
Then Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. Along with Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as the elven spy is more often referred to by the others.
Follow after Dorc da Orc who is heading west across the Kaldel Plains away from the village.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world walks until well after mid afternoon. Only occasionally stopping to look around and sniff.
The ork warleader is followed by the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin and the spy from the elven principality of Alínlae. Who trail the ork weaponsmith by about fifty yards.
Then when they see a patch of the scrubby like trees a couple hundred yards away in the distance, the large ork who is the warleader of his race comes to a stop again.
"Looks like he's stopped for good" quietly says Tamric Drubine in the elven language as he and the spy Tanith stop about fifty yards behind the big, burly ork who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
They watch as the large ork shrugs the unconscious illegal wrecker off his left shoulder onto the ground.
Then the ork weaponsmith carefully places the cloak wrapped body of Teabagger the goblin Cunt on the ground nearby.
The ork, who is a general in the armies of Farque, awkwardly pats the cloak wrapped dead body of the goblin commander a couple of times. Before he makes his way back to where he dumped the unconscious illegal wrecker, Pallen the blademaster.
"I'm not sure, but i think there's something there" quietly says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy in his native language "What is it?" asks the son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, a castle located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
"I don't know" says the spy Tanith who is peering ahead to the scrubby like trees in the distance, that they see the ork warleader is looking towards too.
After looking at the patch of scrubby like trees that is up ahead, Dorc da Orc grunts then looks down at the unconscious plainsman at his feet.
The large ork growls, then grunts before he goes to wake the illegal wrecker up.
The ork general could go back to Tam and Dalin further behind him, to get one of their water bottles, and pour water on the face of Pallen the blademaster to wake him up.
But he doesn't bother with that, for the simple reason he might accidentally spill water on himself, which is just plain disgusting to the ork weaponsmith.
So instead he drops his grubby knee length pants, and proceeds to piss on the unconscious illegal wrecker, urinating on him until he wakes up.
Pallen the blademaster feels himself waking up. The tall plainsman who wears his long hair in braids as many plainsmen do, feels something wet on his face and down the front of him.
The dangerous blademaster opens his eyelids and blinks, then he suddenly gags as he smells something absolutely disgusting on him. Whatever it is, it's wet. And so foul, that he rolls to one side and retches.
Then he groans in pain, as he's rolled over onto his right arm, which he finds is broken.
The blademaster who is originally from the kingdom of Girdane, rolls back onto his back after vomiting.
And he tries to recall what's happened. Then the illegal wrecker, who finds he's covered from head to foot in some kind of disgusting smelling liquid. Remembers what happened.
And tears come to his eyes as he recalls his lover, Sasha the former mercenary having her arm ripped off. Then as she tried to crawl away, having her head stomped on by the ork that attacked them. Who also killed Gorlic the former arena fighter too.
Then Pallen suddenly hears a deep, rumbling growl. And he lifts his head up, and looks beyond his boots, and finds the very same ork standing over him, looking down at him.
With a snarl, Dorc da Orc says to the illegal wrecker on the ground at his feet "Time for you to fucken pay cunt" the large ork after a quick growl, adds "With your fucken life".
The ork warleader steps on the left ankle of the blademaster from Girdane, breaking it.
As the illegal wrecker yells in agony, the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world crouches down. As the ork weaponsmith does, he takes a wicked looking curved dagger from his belt.
Meanwhile, about fifty yards behind the large ork and the tall plainsman.
Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy says "I can't see what he's doing" he continues with "He's in the way".
"Good thing he is" says Tamric Drubine the field commander "We probably don't want to see whatever it is he's doing" adds the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae, who is an officer in the scouts division of the armies of Farque nods his hooded head in agreement.
Then he slightly frowns as he looks away to the west, where a couple hundred yards away in the distance. He's sure there's something amongst the patch of scrubby like trees there.
Dorc da Orc after looking towards the scrubby like trees in the distance, pulls up the leather armour the blademaster wears, then rips in two the tunic he wears beneath it.
Then taking his wicked looking dagger, the large ork slits opens the lower belly of the illegal wrecker. Cutting him open from belly to belly.
"Quit your fucken moaning ya cunt" mutters Dorkindle as the Girdanian blademaster groans in pain after screaming in pain again.
The ork warleader, who is an expert on human anatomy. Infact he's an expert on pretty much every race's anatomy.
Slips a finger into the slit he's cut in the stomach of the illegal wrecker. And with his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates, the large ork probes around in the stomach of Pallen the blademaster.
As the tall plainsman who hails from the kingdom of Girdane, alternates between groaning and screaming.
The ork weaponsmith grunts in satisfaction, and pulls out the loop of intestine he was searching for.
Dorkindle uses his curved dagger to cut it, then he ties one end up. After doing so, the large ork stands up and with the tied up intestine still in hand, he walks away to the right.
"Fuck" says Tamric Drubine, while next to him, Dalinvardél Tanith winces as they watch what the ork general is doing.
They watch as Dorc da Orc strings out the intestines of the illegal wrecker a good thirty feet to the right.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, drops the end of the intestines. Looks around, then wanders away about twenty yards away, and picks up a decent sized rock.
He walks back, and places the rock on the end of the intestines he just dropped on the group.
Then Dorkindle walks back to where the illegal wrecker is lying. And repeats the process.
Though this time with the small intestines, which he drags out to the left. And once he's dropped the end of them on the ground. He places another rock on that end.
In both directions, the intestines are whole, and not torn. As the ork warleader expertly pulled them out of the stomach of the blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane.
All the while, Pallen continually screamed as his intestines were pulled out of him.
Stopping to look down at the screaming illegal wrecker, the ork general says to him "You thinks you gonna get away with doing that cunt" as he waves to where the cloak wrapped body of Teabagger the goblin Cunt lies.
"Think again cunt" adds the ork warleader, who then mutters "That's Dorc's fucken gob-a-lin, no one's allowed to kills him dead".
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, then looks to the west, at the patch of scrubby like trees a couple of hundred yards away. And he roars.
It's not the usual roar the large ork does, it's more of a low, rumbling hoot of a roar, that he repeats. One long roar, followed by four or five fairly quick roars.
Dorkindle repeats this four or five times. And then he grunts in satisfaction when eventually a similar sounding roar comes from within the patch of scrubby like trees.
Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy and Tamric Drubine the field commander share a look, then Dalin who recognised the responding roar, points and says "Lion".
Tam spots the lion that's walked out from the scrubby like trees, standing there, watching Dorc da Orc and the illegal wrecker on the ground, whose intestines he's spread across the plains.
As he lies there on the ground, with his stomach slit open, and his intestines spread out to either side of him.
Pallen the blademaster through the haze of pain he's in, recognises the roar in the distance. Any plainsman would recognise it. He winces, and not just from the excruciating pain he's in.
"If you quick cunt, you can gather up your fucken bits and pieces and stuff it back in your tummy before they get here" says Dorc da Orc who hears another lion roar, followed by another "Then it won't be so bads for you" continues the large ork.
He looks to the patch of scrubby like trees in the distance, and sees two more lions walk out from the trees. One of which is a large male.
Then for the first time since earlier in the morning, emotions show upon the broad, green, brutish looking face of the ork warleader. He grins as he looks down at the tall plainsman.
With a chuckle, Dorkindle says "Have a nice day cunt" then he walks over to where the body of Teabagger the goblin Cunt lies, picks it up, and walks back in the direction he's come from.
As they watch Dorc da Orc come back their way. Field commander Drubine and the spy Tanith see a few more lions come out of the patch of scrubby like trees.
It's a pride of them, and with two of the females, and the large male in the front, they start making their way across the plains to where the illegal wrecker lies, screaming in pain as he tries to gather his intestines back in, which he's failing at.
When the ork general gets to Tam and Dalin, he just grunts in greeting to them, and nods to the east, the direction of the village.
The young field commander from the kingdom of Sarcrin and the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae turn. And walk beside the large ork, as they head back across the plains to the village.
A few moments later, they hear the screams of Pallen the blademaster behind them change. And they hear the sounds of lions growling as they start to feed, eating the illegal wrecker while he's still alive.
When he hears this, Dorc da Orc as he carries the cloak wrapped body of Teabagger the goblin Cunt in his arms, grins then says "Get some" . . . . . .

Aftermath 72.

The Kaldel Plains...

One moment he's looking down the back hallway in his place, and sees the trio of strangers standing there.
Then the next moment he feels himself blacking out.
Now Arvelle the plainsman finds himself lifting up out of unconsciousness, as he wakes up.
The tall plainsman with the shaved head, who is the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers.
Hears movement around him as he slowly wakes. Then the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers who have caused havoc across the Kaldel Plains for more than a year now.
Catches the smell of smoke from somewhere. The tall plainsman with the shaved head, first thought as he wakes up. Apart from wondering what's happened to him.
Is that he hopes the airships on the village green aren't on fire. And that the smoke he smells is coming from something else.
Then as he wakes with a groan. The leader of the illegal wreckers recalls seeing the two airships on the south side of the village green, on fire when he made his way to his house.
The tall plainsman groans again, this time at the loss of revenue from the airships that he saw on fire.
Then Arvelle hears a voice say something in language he doesn't understand, though he thinks it's elven as he's heard it spoken before. Then the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers opens his eyes as he fully wakes up.
He sees a couple of figures crouching down, leaning over him. On either side of him. One in a white hooded cloak. And the other in a black hooded cloak.
Arvelle is pretty sure the figure in black, is one of those he saw in the back hallway of his house here in the village.
He can barely see either face beneath the hoods of their respective cloaks. Though from the outline of their profiles. He's pretty sure the one in white is elven, and the other in black is human.
Then the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers who realises he's outside on the village green, just infront of the two storey house that he's been living in ever since he and his crew took over this village, and another one a couple miles to the north, here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
Is about to say something, when the fellow in the white hooded cloak, who he's pretty sure is an elf, says to him "Quiet".
Helbe the elven thief as he kneels beside the tall plainsman with the shaved head, glances over at Mira Reinholt the mage, who is kneeling on the otherside of the leader of the illegal wreckers.
The once powerful mage looks over to him, and slightly nods his black hooded head.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel has told his fellow spellcaster what he found out when he read the mind of Arvelle the plainsman.
The mage who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil. Was just as surprised as the elven masterthief when he was told by the elven master assassin about the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers.
The tall plainsman with the shaved head goes to say something, but shuts his mouth when Helbe the elven thief quietly says to him "I wonder what your cohorts would say if they knew you were working for the duke of Dalmar?". Dalmar being a duchy in the kingdom of Girdane.
"I guess they'll never know" continues the young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel "Since most of them are either dead, or they've fled" adds the highly talented elven magic user.
Arvelle the plainsman grimaces when he hears that. Then he tries to move. The leader of the crew of illegal wreckers finds that he can only move his head. From side to side, and a little bit off the ground.
When he looks to the right, behind the figure in the black hooded cloak. He sees Pallen the blademaster lying on the ground. His fellow plainsman looks to be alive. But is unconscious.
Then Arvelle looks at the elf in the white hooded cloak, who shakes his hooded head, then says "Bit of duplicitous prick aren't you?". The leader of the crew of illegal wreckers remains silent.
"Only that dwarf knew what you were really up to" says prince Helbenthril Raendril who continues with "Siphoning away your ill gotten wealth to help fund the duke's attempted revolt against the throne" the elven master archer then adds "That's why you wanted him found so badly when you thought he went missing".
The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque then says "You needn't worry about the dwarf, he's dead".
"Which soon you'll be too" says Mira Reinholt the mage as he speaks up for the first time.
The once powerful mage grins, while the elven magic user sourly smiles as the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers screams at the fate that awaits him.
"Did you have to do that?" sourly says councillor Raendril in the elven language as he looks over at his fellow spellcaster, the mage Reinholt.
"I couldn't help myself" says the Vexilian mage in exile in the same language who continues to grin as the tall plainsman with the shaved head screams once more in panic as he realises he's going to be killed.
The elven master assassin waves a hand, and the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers falls silent in the middle of screaming.
"That's better" mutters the elven princeling from Laerel, who waits as Arvelle realises that no matter how much he screams, he doesn't make a sound.
"Finished?" asks Helbe the elven thief who has switched back to the common language, then the young elven noble whose mother is a princess of Laerel, and whose father is the Warder of Quinthain says to the illegal wrecker "Care to elaborate on the duke's plans?".
Arvelle shakes his head no as he stares at the two who are crouched over him as he's immobile on the ground.
A few years ago, the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers along with his best friend Mac the dwarf. Met the duke of Dalmar in Girdane. The kingdom that's directly to the south of the Kaldel Plains.
They got along, so much so that the duke shared his plans of rebellion against his king with the plainsman and the dwarf.
And it was the duke's initial idea to try and get some quick and easy coin to help fund his plans of rebellion. That brought about the idea to take down airships across the Kaldel Plains, and strip or wreck them for revenue.
He helped fund Arvelle and Mac to find like minded individuals to join them. Which was the basis of the crew of illegal wreckers that the tall plainsman with the shaved head would eventually led.
Then just over a year and three months ago, they had enough of a crew to accomplish what they wanted. And ever since then, they've been bringing down airships with regular ease.
And Arvelle has been sending a cut of their profits to the duke of Dalmar ever since.
Now the leader of illegal wreckers finds most of his crew are either dead or they've fled. And those that haven't, like himself and Pallen the blademaster, have been captured.
The tall plainsman with the shaved head now finds himself lying on the ground infront of the badly damaged two storey house that he's been living in ever since he and his crew took over this village.
Wondering what his chances are of surviving this mess. And from what he figures as he looks at the two figures crouching to either side of him. That his chances are pretty low that he'll survive this mess he finds himself in the middle of.
He doesn't know how, but the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers realises he can speak again.
"What do you want?" says Arvelle the plainsman, who then quickly adds "Who are you?".
"We're those you pissed off when you took down the ship we were flying on" says Mira Reinholt the mage who continues with "That's who were are" the once powerful mage then adds "It was bound to happen sooner or later that someone would exact revenge for their vessel being taken down by you lot".
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, then says "Now it's sooner, and we're here".
"And what we want" says Helbe the elven thief as he interrupts his fellow councillor "Is well, what my colleague here mentioned before" adds the elven magic user who follows that with "Is your life".
"You want me to kill him?" says the mage Reinholt in the elven language, who then nods away to south side of the village green as he adds "I could burn him like one of those ships over there".
"That won't be necessary" says the elven princeling in the same language, then the elven master archer adds "Besides, we might want to keep him alive for a bit and take him with us".
"Oh?" says the swordmaster Reinholt, who then adds "Why's that?".
The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel nods his hooded head to a spot on the village green and simply says "Darid".
The spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands, grunts to that then quietly says "That's if you know who can find him quick enough".
"He'll come back" says prince Helbenthril Raendril who after a moment's pause, adds "Hopefully".
The exiled Vexilian mage nods his hooded head again, then switching back to the common language as he looks down at Arvelle, the mage Reinholt says to the tall plainsman with the shaved head "Looks like it's your lucky day".
The human councillor continues with "We're not going to kill you" Mira Reinholt pauses for a few moments, before he adds "Yet".
The leader of the crew of illegal wreckers sourly smiles at that, as he feels sick to the stomach at the prospect he'll be killed at sometime, just not today.
He never thought we he began this venture that things would turn out like this.
Oh sure, he knew there would be some danger involved. But his crew of illegal wreckers numbered just over two hundred. Three of whom were confident spellcasters.
So that they could deal with any problem that arose short of army turning up to deal with them. And you'd never see an army on the Kaldel Plains.
And when he eventually finds out that a group of just ten attacked the large village he and his crew of illegal wreckers live in, here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
And killed most of his crew, he will be more than a little annoyed at how things have ended up. As his life of crime has finally caught up to him.
Mira Reinholt, who can't help but find it amusing seeing the dejected look upon the face of the tall plainsman with the shaved head, can't help himself to inflict more misery upon the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers, and tells him "You know it was us who stole from you the other night when you thought your dwarf buddy took some of your loot".
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster continues with "So you lot fell apart due to a simple act of theft".
The once powerful mage, who was annoyed not just that the airship they were flying on was destroyed by the illegal wreckers. Was also annoyed that the small airboat some of them were on, was also destroyed by them, as he really liked that the little airboat.
Says to the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers "Seems your paranoia got the best of you" the mage in the black hooded cloak looks around then adds "And look what it's got you" the Vexilian mage in exile follows that with "Your crew either dead or run away. These ships destroyed. And all the fortune you accumulated after giving some to the duke of Dalmar, now in our hands".
Arvelle the plainsman can only grimace at how things have turned out. And how his plans to amass a fortune from taking down airships here across the Kaldel Plains have fallen apart. And that he has lost everything, including his life in a day to come.
"Knock him out again?" asks Mira Reinholt in the elven language as he looks over at his fellow council member, Helbe the elven thief who replies in the same language with "Might as well" followed by "He knows what's happened, and what fate lies ahead for him. And we've got all the information we need".
Then the young elven noble from island principality of Laerel knocks out the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers.
Arvelle the plainsman feels himself falling into unconsciousness. As he does, he hears his two captors discussing something in the elven language.
As he's knocked out, Arvelle doesn't know it, but the two of them are talking his fellow plainsman, Pallen the blademaster who lies unconscious nearby . . . . . .

Aftermath 71.

The Kaldel Plains...

Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy and sir Percavelle Lé Dic show up first, after making their way through the village to get to the village green where the others are.
The elf from the principality of Alínlae and the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
Didn't run across many of the remaining illegal wreckers. As a good lot of them have started to flee now that most of their leaders are dead. And those that aren't dead, have been captured.
When Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin notices that Darid Parsen the cavalry commander isn't with the others as they stand out the front of the badly damaged two storey house at the northwest corner of the village green. And mentions this to the others.
Lisell Maera points, and tells him that's the cavalry commander. The elven spy grimaces when he spots the bits and pieces of body parts that was commander Parsen.
It takes a few moments for sir Percavelle Lé Dic to realise the same thing. And when he does, the heavily armoured knight grimaces too.
Next to show up a little bit later is Dorc da Orc. The large ork who is bleeding all over the place. Has a torn cloak wrapped around his neck and throat. And another one wrapped around his left leg.
While over his left shoulder, is the unconscious form of one of the illegal wreckers. The tall plainsman by the name of Pallen, who is a blademaster.
While over the right shoulder of the big, burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world.
Is the cloak wrapped body of Teabagger the goblin Cunt.
When any of the others try to speak to the ork warleader, he just growls at them.
Dorkindle walks to the front of the badly damaged two storey house. Where he dumps the unconscious blademaster Pallen next to the other unconscious plainsman on the ground. The leader of the crew of illegal wreckers, Arvelle.
Then the large ork leans back against the front of the house, and with the cloak wrapped, dead body of the goblin commander now in the crook of his right arm.
Dorc da Orc watches the stripped down airships across on the south side of the village green, continue to burn down to the ground.
The last to show up is Helbe the elven thief, along with Narladene the ground pixie.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel after watching some more of the illegal wreckers flee from the village after he came back from further east on the plains.
Appears out of thin air on the village green. The highly talented elven magic user glances towards the burning airships.
One that's basically burnt to the ground, while the second is still blazing away, this cold, though sunny and fine day here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
The elven masterthief makes his way over to the others who are standing out the front of the badly damaged two storey house that was the abode of the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers.
The young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel. After looking at the two unconscious plainsmen lying on the ground next to the front door.
Then slightly frowns when he sees the small, cloak wrapped figure of the dead goblin commander in the arms of Dorc da Orc.
He frowns again when he notices that Darid Parsen the cavalry commander isn't with the rest of the group.
The elven master assassin looks at Mira Reinholt the mage, and nods his hooded head for the once powerful mage to follow him.
The two spellcasters, members of the lord Farque's personal council. Walk a bit away from the rest of the group.
"Where's Zubutai?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief in the language of the elves "I mean Darid" adds the elven princeling.
"There" is the quiet reply of Mira Reinholt the mage, who then sourly adds "Scattered across the village green".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril looks to where his fellow spellcaster and council member has nodded.
Then the elven magic user grimaces as he sees the body parts that was Darid Parsen the cavalry commander.
While on his right shoulder, invisible to all but him. Narladene the ground pixie grimaces too when she sees the remains of Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman strewn across some of the village green.
"What happened?" asks the elven master archer "That mage of their's got him" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
"You take care of him?" asks the elven princeling from Laerel who was chased most of the morning by a mageglobe that was created by the mage who was an illegal wrecker.
"I helped" replies the mage who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil "But it was Beldane" continues the mage Reinholt, who then adds "The cleric, who took care of that mage".
Mira Reinholt, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, gestures towards a body lying out on the village green, then says "There he is".
The elven masterthief in the white hooded cloak, nods when he sees the dead body of the mage named Samiel, who was the most powerful of the spellcasters amongst the illegal wreckers.
Then the elven master assassin looks beyond where the bodies of the two unconscious plainsmen lie near the front door of the badly damaged two storey house.
To where Dorc da Orc is leaning back against the front of the house, staring at the airships on the south side of the village green, one that's now just a smouldering shell. While the other is still well and truly ablaze.
"What happened there?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief with a nod of his hooded head to where the large ork is standing, completely ignoring everyone else.
"The little goblin was killed" quietly explains the Vexilian mage in exile, who continues with "And the big lump when into that ork blood rage of his".
Both the elven magic user, and the ground pixie that's on his right shoulder, wince when they hear that.
"Who the hell knows how many of them he killed during that" quietly says the highly skilled swordmaster, who then adds in a slightly dry tone "Probably a lot".
Then the mage Reinholt says "He turned up not that long ago, bleeding like a stuck pig, carrying the dead goblin and that plainsman he caught".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril slightly nods, then quietly says "Those wounds of his might need to be checked" as he looks at the blood soaked cloaks wrapped around the large ork's throat and neck, as well as one around his left leg.
"They look bad, even for him" adds the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"He'll be fine" quietly says the human council member, who continues with "Anyone else would of bled out ages ago, but not him" the Vexilian mage in exile follows that with "Besides he's just ignoring everyone, and when you try to speak to him, all he does is growl" he briefly pauses then adds "He doesn't even swear at you if try to speak to him".
"That doesn't sound good" murmurs councillor Raendril in the royal elven language, who then switches back to the normal elven language, then quietly says "Probably best to keep an eye on him".
The once powerful mage in the black hooded cloak nods in agreement with his fellow spellcaster, then he quietly says "I'm not sure" in reply to Helbe the elven thief quietly saying to him "What the hell are we going to do about Zubutai?".
The two councillors share a look, as they know the person who can bring Zubutai the barbarian hordesman back to life, in another body. Isn't here with them at the moment.
And he's the one who'll be the most annoyed that the hordes outrider has got himself killed again.
"We might get into trouble with you know who" sourly says Mira Reinholt who continues with "Zubutai dead again, as well as the goblin commander" the spellcaster who is in exile from his homeland of Vexil then adds "He won't be happy about that".
"That's for sure" dryly murmurs Helbe the elven thief who like the once powerful mage, knows lord Farque is going to be more than little angry that both Darid Parsen the cavalry commander, along with the goblin commander, Teabagger are both dead.
Especially since they as a group, decided to act on their own to exact revenge upon those who brought down the Farqian warship they were traveling on across the Kaldel Plains.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel is silent for a few moments as he looks at what remains of commander Parsen scattered across the village green.
Then the elven member of lord Farque's personal council looks at the small body of the bright green goblin, wrapped in a cloak, held in the arms of the ork general, Dorc da Orc.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel sighs, then he looks at his fellow spellcaster and council member, and quietly says "We messed this up a bit".
Then as he looks at the badly damaged two storey house they're standing to the side of, the highly talented elven magic user adds "Tell me you got all their loot?".
"We did" says  the spellcaster who was a member of the mage council of Vexil, infact he was the youngest ever member of that particular council that helps to rule the city-state of Vexil.
"With what Tam and the others stole previously, we've got all of it" adds the mage Reinholt, who after a slight pause, says "There's a shit load of it".
"Oh?" says prince Helbenthril Raendril who then quickly adds "How much of a shit load?".
The Vexilian swordmaster in exile sourly smiles as he looks at the elven magic user, who is a thief through and through.
Then the once powerful mage tells his fellow councillor how much they've taken from the illegal wreckers.
The arched eyebrows of the elven masterthief lift up high when he hears that. They were told by Tam and Lis how much wealth the illegal wreckers had accumulated over the last year or so, from their illegal activities across the Kaldel Plains.
But to find out how much they actually have. As the ship's lockers are actually larger than what the two youngsters described.
They have a fairly substantial chunk of wealth in their hands now. Probably the most they've had, ever since they acquired, as in took. A whole lot of anti-magic from a colony of gnomes out on an island in the Hynralv archipelago. Which lies out in the Great Western Ocean off the coast of the Southlands.
That was a dozen years ago, when the group was markedly different than it is now.
"Well" says Helbe the elven thief, who after a brief pause adds "At least that's something to come out of this mess".
Mira Reinholt the mage nods his hooded head in agreement to that as they watch the airships on the south side of the village green continue to burn.
One is just a charred and blackened shell. With tendrils of smoke coming off. While the other is still ablaze as it burns to the ground.
"Added with the magetubes they've got over there" says the once powerful mage who points to the long building on the south side of the village green, just behind the airship that's a smouldering shell.
"As well as that ship there" adds the highly skilled swordmaster who gestures at the third airship, here on the north side of the village green. Which has been partially stripped down by the crew of illegal wreckers.
"We've got a bit of a fortune on our hands" continues the Vexilian mage in exile, the highly talented elven magic user nods his hooded head in agreement to that.
Then the elven princeling says to his fellow councillor "Best we gather it all up" the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the principality of Laerel looks at the others in the group, then he quietly says "It'll give them something to do".
"Then what?" quietly asks the mage Reinholt "We leave" is the reply of prince Helbenthril Raendril, who then nods his hooded head back to where the others are standing out the front of the badly damaged two storey house on the northwest corner of the village green.
The two spellcasters who with the absence of lord Farque, and the death of Darid Parsen the cavalry commander. Lead the group of adventurers, who are in the armies of Farque.
Make their way back to the others. And they get them to do a number of tasks during the remainder of the morning.
As Mira Reinholt teleports back those ship's lockers he took out of the badly damaged house.
Beldane the cleric creates a gateway to the patch of scrubby trees about five miles to the east of the large village. Where the rest of the illegal wreckers wealth, which was stolen earlier, is buried.
Along with the fighting cleric, Tamric Drubine, Lisell Maera, Shur Kee the monk, sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Tovis the war engineer head through the gateway. To help dig up the strongboxes and the cask like chests, that are buried amongst the trees to the east of the village.
While the others go about doing those various tasks. Helbe the elven thief remains behind at the front of the baldly damaged two storey house at the northwest corner of the village green.
To keep an eye on Dorc da Orc, who growled at the young elven noble when he attempted to speak to him.
As well as to keep an eye on the two plainsmen who have been captured. Arvelle the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers. And Pallen the blademaster.
As he stands over the pair of unconscious illegal wreckers. The elven magic user reads their minds.
First the blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane, then the plainsman who has led the crew of illegal wreckers.
Who for the last year or so, have created havoc across the Kaldel Plains, bringing down airships. Taking anything of value off them. Then stripping down those vessels. And selling anything of worth from the stripped down airships.
As the second of the burning airships over on the south side of the village green burns down to the ground, the elven master assassin lifts an eyebrow in surprise after reading the mind of the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers, Arvelle.
"Now isn't that interesting" murmurs Helbe the elven thief as he looks down at the tall plainsman with the shaved head, who has led the crew of illegal wreckers.
"What is it?" asks Narladene the ground pixie as she stands upon the right shoulder of the elven princeling and looks down at the unconscious plainsman whose mind the elven magic user has just read.
The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel is silent for a few moments as he looks at Arvelle the plainsman, then the elven masterthief quietly tells Narladene what he's just found out . . . . . .

Aftermath 70.

The Kaldel Plains...

Lisell Maera the messenger is knocked sideways to the ground, hit by parts of Darid Parsen the cavalry commander who has just exploded.
Infront of the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury.
The war engineer Tovis is knocked forward when he's hit by bits of the cavalry commander who has just been torn apart in an explosion when a mageglobe ended it's life, along with his.
The young engineer from the kingdom of Nastell hits the wards that Beldane the cleric has put up, and bounces back off them. And falls flat on his ass.
Tovis sits there on the ground, completely dazed, not knowing what's just happened behind him.
As for the fighting cleric himself. He staggers forward when commander Parsen is ripped to shreds by the relatively small explosion.
Beldane hits his own wards, but remains on his feet, as he completes the swing of his mace, unleashing a spell he casts with it's help.
Through a bit of smoke that drifts by, Samiel the mage sees the person he targeted with his mageglobe, get lifted up off the ground a couple of feet. Then get torn to bits in a small explosion.
And as body parts hit the other three strangers, knocking down two of them. The powerful spellcaster from the city-state of Tuledare, senses magic. A kind of magic he did not expect to sense when he attacked the strangers.
Samiel senses cleric's magic, as he sees the fellow in the heavy half plate armour swinging a mace.
"Shit" mutters Samiel the mage as he quickly slams up wards, both barrier and protection spells.
The next instant, there's a flash of white light in the clear, cool morning sky above the village.
And a column of white light about three feet wide, shoots down out of the morning sky here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
Where it strikes the powerful Tuledarian mage who is an illegal wrecker.
Inside the badly damaged two storey house on the northwest corner of the village green.
Mira Reinholt the mage who has just teleported another of the ship's lockers away as he looks out the north facing window. Frowns when he suddenly senses the mage amongst the illegal wreckers. Not that far away, just fifty yards or so away, out on the village green.
The once powerful mage from the city-state of Vexil, who is unable to be sensed due to the amulet he wears on a silver chain he has around his neck.
Feels the nearby mage creating a mageglobe. When he does, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, quickly creates a mageglobe of his own, which rolls off his gloved right hand, and drops down onto the floor, which it disappears into.
Looking at Tamric Drubine and Shur Kee the monk, Mira Reinholt the mage quickly says to them "Trouble" as he heads across the room to the open door of the room and adds "Out on the village green".
The young field commander from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, and the short, statured monk who is from beyond the Southlands. Infact the far eastern coast of the continent. Where his homeland, the kingdom of Wah Lee lies. Quickly follow the Vexilian mage in exile out of the room.
Outside on the village green. Beldane the cleric watches as the holy strike spell cast with the aid of his magical mace, hits the illegal wrecker who is a mage.
The column of white light hits the powerful spellcaster, who has just attacked them, specifically Darid Parsen the cavalry commander.
As the fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell, which just lies to the east of the Kaldel Plains.
Watches his sustained spell, and hopes it's able to break through the wards the illegal wrecker has put up around himself.
He briefly feels something magical pass underneath him. For a brief moment Beldane isn't sure what it is.
But then he realises it's a mageglobe, which are notoriously difficult to sense. Which passes beneath him, on it's way towards the mage. Who isn't all that far from the fighting cleric and the others with him.
Samiel the mage grimaces as his wards take a sustained battering from the column of white light that's around him.
The powerful spellcaster who once worked for the airdock authority in the city of Tuledare. Realises that the cleric is a hell of a lot more powerful than he originally thought.
A cleric who he can just make out through the bright white light, but can't sense. But he can sense the magical mace that he wields.
Samiel has to wait for the cleric's spell to come to an end. As he dare not risk stop sustaining his wards to withstand the battering they're taking.
Then the powerful Tuledarian mage who as he's thinking of what he can do to retaliate against the nearby cleric.
Suddenly senses something right underneath him. The illegal wrecker knows immediately what it is. And he grimaces as he prepares, and braces himself for what's about to happen.
Then the ground erupts beneath him as a mageglobe explodes in the ground right below him. The powerful mage wonders if he'll survive this explosion like he did the earlier one, at the edge of the clearing in the middle of the large village. That he and the other illegal wreckers have lived in for the last year or so.
The mage globe created my Mira Reinholt explodes just a few feet beneath the spellcasting illegal wrecker, an explosion that goes upwards.
And though the explosion is smaller than the one earlier in the morning at the edge of the clearing in the middle of the village.
It's just as destructive as it hits the underside of Samiel the mage's wards. Which are already taking a battering from the column of white light that's all around him, and goes up into the morning sky.
Ground goes flying, as does the Tuledarian mage. Who screams in both panic, and agony as he's flung up and out of the column of white light that surrounds him.
He hisses in pain as he's briefly burnt from the column of white light as his wards fail from not one, but two magical attacks.
And as he goes flying backwards with dirt swirling all around him, Samiel wonders if he'll survive the impact with the ground when he eventually hits it.
He does, though barely. For when he hits the ground. The powerful spellcaster who is an illegal wrecker. Screams out in pain as he feels his right leg snap as it hits the ground first.
He lies there on the village green, groaning in pain. As dirt and bits of the ground rains down all around him. Samiel who has tendrils of smoke coming off him.
Groans as be rolls off his side, and onto his back. The powerful mage from the city-state of Tuledare winces in pain as he feels his broken right leg. While dirt continues to rain down all around him.
After looking at Tovis the war engineer, and seeing him sitting on the ground, shaking his head trying to clear it.
Beldane the cleric looks back and sees Lisell Maera on the ground too. The messenger in the armies of Farque, groans as she tries to roll over onto her side.
The fighting cleric, who is a member of the church of Glaine, sees no sign of commander Parsen anywhere.
So he looks ahead again, and drops his holy strike spell he's cast in conjunction with his mace.
The powerful cleric from the kingdom of Nastell senses, and through the raining dirt and smoke just up ahead. He senses that the mage is still alive.
Beldane hurries forward, his wards moving forward with him. The spellcaster who is from the northern region of Nastell.
Knows that he has to deal with the mage as quickly as possible while he's down. As he knows he won't be able to take him on in a battle of magic if it lasts for a little bit of time.
It will be best to try and finish him off as quickly as possible. Especially now, after he was just caught up in an explosion from a mageglobe created by Mira Reinholt.
Beldane the cleric runs around the small crater in the ground. And heads back across the village green, in the direction they came from.
The fighting cleric runs through some drifting smoke, and the dirt filled air. He runs right to where he can sense the mage who is also an illegal wrecker.
Samiel the mage, coughs as he sits up. And even though he's got a broken right leg. At least he isn't unconscious. Like he was earlier, when he was caught up in a similar explosion. Which occurred on the edge of the clearing in the middle of the large village, which is located in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
The powerful spellcaster from the city-state of Tuledare briefly thinks about holding his power within himself.
But unlike earlier, his true nature as a mage comes to the forefront. Where holding one's power within themselves, is the absolute antithesis of what it is to be a mage.
Samiel, who winces as he looks around. Trying to see anything within the thick, dirt filled air. As well as the occasional puff of smoke that blows by with it.
Slaps at his steaming clothing. Then he frowns again, when he thinks he hears something away to his left. The powerful Tuledarian mage looks in that direction.
And taking no chance with what could be about, as he knows that there's both another mage, and a cleric nearby.
He sends a fireball in that direction. Which burns a path through the dirt and smoke filled air.
As he runs, Beldane the cleric tightly grins when he sees the fireball burning away everything in it's path as it heads south across the village green. In the direction he cast a simple echo spell of himself.
As he runs, the fighting cleric who is continually sensing. Who can't believe the illegal wrecker is doing nothing to conceal or hide his own presence.
Swings his right arm back, swinging his mace back and to the side in the process. Then he brings it forward, when through the air thick with dirt. He spots a figure sitting on the ground, looking away to the south.
Samiel the mage peers away to the south, trying to find who it is that he heard in that direction.
The illegal wrecker who hails from the city-state of Tuledare as he sits there upon the ground, with his right leg broken.
Suddenly hears something away to his right, and as he goes to look that way through the air that's thick with dirt from the recent explosion. Something slams into the side of his head.
Beldane doesn't use any spell or any of the powers of his magical mace. He just swings it like a basic weapon. And it whacks into the side of the mage's head as he sits there on the ground, trying to see what's happening around him.
The fighting cleric comes to a halt, and not knowing if the illegal wrecker is dead or not. It certainly looks like it, as he lies there on his side with a shattered skull.
Beldane swings his mace again, and gives him another club to the head. The powerful spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell nods, as he sees he's cracked the mage's skull open with that blow to the head. And the man's brains are spread out over the ground.
Beldane looks at the dead illegal wrecker for a moment. Then he trudges back through the dirt filled air, to get back to the others.
Meanwhile, to the east of the large village that has been attacked this morning. Nearly five miles away from it.
Helbe the elven thief after turning around, mutters "Finally" when he sees the mageglobe that's been chasing him throughout the morning, disappear.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel. Nods his hooded head, when he spots Narladene the ground pixie waving as she flies towards him.
And once the naturally magical creature originally from the Sunreach Mountains gets to the elven magic user from Laerel, Narladene the ground pixie tells him "That mage is dead".
"I figured as much" says the elven masterthief who happens to be the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
Then the young elven noble who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, says to the tiny winged creature "Let's head back" as he gestures away to the west, back to the village "Might as well see what's happened".
Narladene the ground pixie as she settles down upon the right shoulder of the elven princeling she's attached to, nods her head in agreement to that from prince Helbenthril Raendril.
Back in the village, on the north side of the village green, Lisell Maera looks up, and finds Tamric Drubine the field commander kneeling next to her, helping her to sit up.
"You okay Lis?" asks Tamric Drubine the field commander "I think so" replies Lisell Maera the messenger who is more commonly called Lis by the others in the group.
Infront of the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, and the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Shur Kee the monk is helping Tovis the war engineer to get up off the ground.
Then as they spot Beldane the cleric coming back this way through the dirt filled air, the messenger in the armies of Farque looks to her left where Mira Reinholt the mage stands, who asks "What's that?" as he nods his hooded head away to the right of Lis.
The attractive young woman glances that way, then looks quickly away. And as Tamric Drubine helps her to stand, Lisell Maera quietly says "Darid".
The mage Reinholt grimaces as he looks at the bits of body parts scattered everywhere.
The once powerful mage from the city-state of Vexil who is now a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque mutters "Fuck" followed by "The shape of fire".
Then the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster sighs as he thinks about how his fellow councillor Darid Parsen the cavalry commander. Or to be correct, Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, has died once again . . . . . .

Aftermath 69.

The Kaldel Plains...

Some of the smoke from the burning airships blow their way, and Darid Parsen the cavalry commander steps back as they stand beside a roundhouse on the edge of the village green.
Behind the cavalry commander and Lisell Maera the messenger who are out infront.
Tovis the war engineer who is beside Beldane the cleric, steps back too. And catches movement out of the corner of his left eye.
The young engineer who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, where he once served in the army of a baron Harkonin.
Looks south along this side of the village green. And doesn't see anyone behind the houses he's got a view of.
Tovis knows that even though he might not be able to see anyone, doesn't mean there isn't anyone about. As they've already run into plenty of the illegal wreckers this morning as they've attacked the large village.
As another cloud of smoke wafts by them again, Darid Parsen the cavalry commander quietly says "There's a few bodies that way, especially on this side" he continues with "But there doesn't seem to be anyone there at the moment" as he waves away some of the smoke that's drifting by them.
Next to the cavalry commander who is also a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
Lisell Maera the messenger says "Looks like it" the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury then says "Think they're inside?".
The cavalry commander who in actual fact is really a barbarian hordesman from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Darid Parsen.
Nods his head, then says "I'd say so" he continues in a slightly dry tone with "By the looks of those burning airships, Mira has been successful".
Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman then gestures away to the badly damaged two storey house on the northwest corner of the village green they've been looking at, and he says "And the state of that house too".
Councillor Parsen follows that with "So they should be in there, taking the wreckers loot".
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group says "I don't see that plainsman lying amongst the dead next to that house".
The daughter of a street prostitute, and a sailor who she never knew, continues with "He might not of gone that way". Referring to the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers they chased this way.
"If he was smart he wouldn't of gone that way" says Darid aka Zubutai Timaginson "Probably the worst thing to do is to run into Mira" dryly adds commander Parsen.
"Running into Dorc?" says Lis "Well, yeah that's a given" says the member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Looking behind him and the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, the cavalry commander asks "Do you know if Mira is about?".
"I can't sense him" says Beldane the cleric, who continues with "I can't sense him anyway, because of that medallion he wears"
Councillor Parsen grunts as he had forgotten about that, then he nods when the fighting cleric says "I can't sense any spellcasters in the village".
Beldane who is a member of the church of Glaine, continues with "I briefly sensed that wizard a short time ago, back towards the middle of the village" the cleric from the kingdom of Nastell then adds "Then suddenly i was unable to, as if".
"As if what?" asks commander Parsen when the powerful cleric falls silent for a few moments "As if he was killed" is the reply from Beldane.
"He probably was" says Darid aka Zubutai the son of Timagin who continues with "He probably ran into the royal thief" the councillor briefly pauses then says "Or Dalin" the cavalry commander then silently adds in a dry tone, or either one of those idiots Dorc or Percy.
Though councillor Parsen thinks Dorc da Orc is now somewhere on this side of the village, as they heard the large ork roar just a short time ago, and he sounded much closer to them than he was earlier.
Beldane who can't be sensed too, as he has a shield spell cast upon him by Helbe the elven thief, nods his head then says "Probably" followed by "Definitely felt like he was killed, more than if he was trying to hold his power within himself".
At least that's one more of them we don't have to worry about, Darid Parsen thinks to himself, who then nods across to the badly damaged two storey house on the northwest corner of the village green, and quietly tells the others "Let's go".
The member of lord Farque's personal council then adds "And keep an eye out for that plainsman who leads them" the cavalry commander continues with "Or any of them for that matter".
Then from where they are, next to a roundhouse on the eastern edge of the village green, Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman sets off.
Leading the way across the village green to the badly damaged two storey house to the northwest. Followed by the three others behind him.
Commander Parsen walks through some more of the drifting smoke that's coming off the nearby ships that are on fire.
As he does, the councillor lifts up the black traditional hordes cloth he wears around his neck.
And covers the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and nose as he wraps it around his head.
And though Darid aka Zubutai the son of Timagin usually wears it during combat.
He's found it over the years to be useful during a time like now. Where it's great to block out smoke. In this case coming from a pair of burning airships on the south side of the village green.
Samiel the mage steps out from next the roundhouse he's been crouching beside.
The powerful spellcaster originally from the city-state of Tuledare, where before he took up a life of crime, worked for the airdock authority in the city of Tuledare.
Sees that the four strangers he's been watching, are gone.
Samiel grimaces, then heads north, keeping parallel to the east side of the village green.
The mage, the most powerful of the three spellcasters in the crew of illegal wreckers, who have have been creating havoc across the Kaldel Plains for the last year or so. By bringing down numerous airships, which they then strip, or wreck, as it's called.
Who is holding his power within himself, as he knows there's another mage nearby. Another mage who almost killed him a little earlier, back near the middle of the large village.
Hurries to where he last saw the four strangers, who are definitely amongst those who have attacked the village, and the illegal wreckers, on this fine and sunny, though cold morning, here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
Samiel puts the crook of his right arm up to his face as smoke wafts into his face. As he stops, the powerful Tuledarian mage refrains from coughing.
And uses his free hand to wave away the smoke he walked into. As he does, the spellcaster who is an illegal wrecker, looks out across the village green.
"Shit" mutters Samiel the mage into the crook of his right arm as he sees the state of things across the village green.
The wide, circular open area, on the western edge of the large village that the crew of illegal wreckers have been living in for the last year or so.
The powerful spellcaster originally from the city-state of Tuledare, looks away from the pair of burning airships on the south side of the village green. And looks to the north, specifically to the northwest, where the house that Arvelle the plainsman has been living in since the crew of illegal wreckers took over the village.
Samiel can't see it too clearly as there's lots of smoke about. And he only catches a brief glimpse of it. And what the spellcaster who is holding his power within himself, does see. Is that Arvelle's house, is badly damaged
The powerful Tuledarian mage, slightly frowns as he thinks he spots someone in the smoke.
He wonders if it's those he's after. In particular one amongst the four he's been following for the last little bit.
Samiel then steps away from the side of the roundhouse he stopped next to. And starts making his way across the village green.
As he does, the spellcaster, who doesn't know he's the last of the three spellcasters amongst the crew of illegal wreckers to be still alive.
He walks slowly, waiting for a break in the smoke, as he does he gets ready to stop holding his power within himself. As he prepares to go on the attack.
They move quickly across the village green, heading towards the northwest corner, where the badly damaged two storey house is.
Even with the smoke drifting by as they approach it, they see the dead lying on the ground on this side, the east side of the house.
And there's no sign of the tall plainsman with the shaved head amongst the dead on the ground.
Then when the wind slightly changes, and the smoke from the burning airships starts to drift more to the south of them.
Darid Parsen the cavalry commander is about to say something, when suddenly Beldane the cleric says "Ware!" in warning.
The fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell, first felt his mace in his hand go warm, the usual sign of danger.
Then the member of the church Glaine who is continually sensing, suddenly sensed a spellcaster not all that far behind them.
Beldane spins around as he warns the others, then the powerful cleric who can't be sensed at the moment due to the shield spell upon himself.
Slams up wards as he instantly knows it's the mage amongst the illegal wreckers who is somewhere behind them.
As he does, the fighting cleric swings his mace, to unleash some of the power of the magical weapon.
Walking across the village green, the wind suddenly shifts and the smoke that's drifting in his direction goes to the south of him. And Samiel the mage looks ahead and in a gap in the smoke he spots the four strangers he's been following.
The mage from the city-state of Tuledare stops holding his power within himself when he sees the one he figures is a mage too, though it isn't.
Samiel quickly creates a mageglobe, and it shoots away from his right hand. And heads towards the four about fifty yards infront of him. To be exact, towards the one the powerful Tuledarian spellcaster thinks is a mage like he is.
The living piece of magic, moves incredibly quickly. It's not the most powerful one Samiel has ever created. Nor is it the most destructive, infact it's not that powerful at all. But it is probably the most accurate one the mage who is an illegal wrecker has ever created. As it seeks out who Samiel has targeted.
The mageglobe skims around the wards that suddenly spring up, going around them, even though it could probably go through them. It swings back around, and goes right for it's target. Who isn't protected on this side by the wards. And it hits, and when it hits the living piece of magic comes to the end of it's brief life as it has completed it's task.
Hearing the warning from Beldane behind them, Lisell Maera the messenger spins around.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury sees the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine swinging his mace.
As he does, the messenger or runner in the armies of Farque, briefly catches sight of a small, faintly glowing red ball of light coming towards them.
It's moving so quick that Lisell or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group doesn't see it for long. And she loses view of it.
She recognised what it is, and is just about to shout out a warning, when he she catches sight of it again out of the corner of her left eye. As it must be circling them.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury goes to look back behind her, when it strikes. Hitting it's target, who is now behind Lis. Darid Parsen the cavalry commander.
The member of lord Farque's personal council doesn't even see the mageglobe that hits him after he's turned to see what Beldane the cleric has shouted a warning about.
The living piece of magic hits him in the middle of the back, and comes to the end of it's life.
Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman yells in surprise as he's suddenly picked up off the ground, and briefly floats a few feet above the ground.
Then the cavalry commander in the armies of Farque, who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra comes to the end of his life when he explodes . . . . . .

Aftermath 68.

The Kaldel Plains...

Through some of the smoke that's drifting across the western part of the village from the burning airships on the village green.
A pair of horses that have broken free from their tethers, run between the roundhouses as they flee in fright.
They head east through the village, almost running into some of the illegal wreckers who are wandering around, trying to find those who have attacked the village this morning.
Meanwhile, to the south of the village. The last of the local plainsmen and women who were living in the large village with the crew of illegal wreckers.
Are fleeing along the wagon track that heads south. Carrying what little possessions they where able to grab as chaos broke out in the village here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
Whilst back towards the village green. A mage skulks about. Heading in the direction he saw a small group of the attackers were going.
Though wrong, he's certain that one of them is the mage who nearly killed him a little earlier in the morning, near the middle of the large village, where there's a clearing.
He continues to keep holding his power within himself as he scampers from behind one roundhouse to another. Moving ever closer to the village green.
Meanwhile in a badly damaged two storey house on the northwest corner of the village green.
The actual mage who attacked that particular illegal wrecker earlier in the morning.
Is looking out of a north facing window on the ground floor of that house, the largest house in the entire village, the house that the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers has been living in ever since they took over this village, here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
A large chest, infact it's a ship's locker, that's next to the mage. Disappears as he looks out of the window.
While behind him, a short, statured man wearing odd looking white clothing, and an even odder looking conical shaped hat.
Along with a young man, a teenager infact. Who is in half plate armour, who has black tunic like tabbard over his breastplate. And is wearing a black cloak to match.
Push another of the ship's lockers towards where the mage is standing near the window.
Whilst in one corner of the room. Lies the tall plainsman with the shaved head, who leads the crew of illegal wreckers.
He's unconscious, and is completely oblivious to what's happening in this room in his abode.
Not knowing that the wealth he and his crew have accumulated over the last year or so, from bringing down airships across the Kaldel Plains is disappearing, one locker after another. And there's nothing he and his crew of illegal wreckers can do about it.
Towards the middle of the large village, just south of the clearing where the wagon track that goes through the village, crosses a wide path.
Where on one side of a roundhouse, lies a dead wizard on the ground. On the opposite side of that particular house.
A large, heavily armoured knight has sat up with the assistance of an elf in a grey hooded cloak.
The nobleborn knight who has the faceplate of his full helm open. Is shaking his head, and pushing away one of the hands of the elf.
In that hand is a small glass vial. That the elf wants the knight to drink.
The knight who grimaces in pain, wants nothing to do with it.
But the elf in the grey hooded cloak persists, and eventually gets the heavily armoured knight to drink the contents of the small glass vial.
Though from the look upon the nobleman's face it's obvious he's displeased that he's drinking it, and displeased about the taste of it.
East of the village, well over four miles away from it. There's another elf, this one in a white hooded cloak.
Who suddenly appears near some boulders sticking out of the plains.
He turns, and looks back to the west. And spots a small ball of red light, about the size of an apple streaking through the morning sky, heading towards him.
It's a mageglobe. And after he swears something in the royal elven language. He disappears again, heading further east. Where in the distance he spotted a patch of the scrubby looking trees that can be found dotted across the Kaldel Plains.
Fluttering around the red mageglobe that's in pursuit of the elf in the white hooded cloak.
Is a ground pixie who is doing her best to dissuade the living piece of magic. But so far she's been unable to distract it enough so that it leaves the elf alone.
She's got a feeling the only way it will disappear. Is if it comes to the end of it's life, and whatever it does, the elf in the white hooded cloak survives it.
Or if the mage who created the living piece of magic is killed. Which would make it disappear too.
Meanwhile, back in the village. Near the village green which is on the western side of the large village that the crew of illegal wreckers took over more than a year ago.
Four of those who have attacked the village on this clear and sunny, though cold morning here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
Are next to a roundhouse, looking through the smoke towards the village green.
Where they spot two of the stripped down airships on the village green, are on fire. With one of them, well and truly ablaze.
A man in his early twenties, wearing leather armour beneath his black tunic like tabbard and a black cloak.
Who seems to be their leader. Quietly says something to the other three with him.
A fairly large fellow in his late twenties, wearing heavy, half plate armour, who by the looks of it, is a fighting cleric.
Another man, younger, in his early twenties. Strong and muscular. With hammer in hand. Wearing a leather smock like blacksmith's wear.
As well as an attractive young woman, still a teen really. Who is tall and lean for someone her age. Who is also wearing a black tunic come tabbard, and a black cloak over her leather armour.
Then the four of them, turn and look back to the east through the village. As they hear a familiar roar, which they haven't heard in a little while.
Not since they heard a long continuous roar from somewhere near the middle of the large village, that's here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
After the large ork roars, and as Gorlic the former arena fighter continues to stab it in the side of the neck with his long dagger, as he clings onto it's left shoulder.
He screams in pain when it turns it's head and bites him. It bites his left arm, just above the wrist.
The former arena fighter from the city-state of Brattonbury with his long dagger jammed into the neck of the large ork, falls off it and drops to the ground as he hears Pallen the swordmaster shout "No!".
Gorlic with his right hand, grabs the spurting stump where his left arm ends, as he now has no hand there. The former arena fighter turned illegal wrecker hisses in pain as he attempts to crawl away across the ground. As he does he hears a high pitched scream of pain that comes to an abrupt end.
Sasha the former mercenary stabs up at the large ork's throat again when she sees it turn it's head the other way as Gorlic clings to it's back and left shoulder, stabbing his long dagger into the otherside of it's neck.
The good looking, one eyed woman who has a wicked looking scar down one side of her face.
Shoves the point of her sword up into it's throat again. Then as she hears Gorlic scream in pain. Then fall off the back of the large ork. Something grabs her right arm which incredible force.
She lets go of her sword. Which is still stuck in the throat of the large ork.
Then after the former mercenary who hails from the kingdom of Girdane hears her lover, Pallen the blademaster shout "No!"
She screams as she's lifted up off the ground by her right arm and swung upwards. She's upside down as she swings upwards. Screaming as she does so.
Then she's suddenly dropping down. And her scream abruptly stops when she slams down into the ground.
Dorc da Orc who has just lifted up one of the illegal wreckers, swung her up into the air above his head by her right arm, then slammed her down onto the ground.
Stands on her right shoulder as he still holds her by the right arm. Then he pulls upwards, ripping her right arm off with relative ease.
The large ork looks at the tall plainsman with his long hair in braids, who comes to a stop as he was about to rush him.
Dorkindle who is the midst of an ork blood rage, roars. Then throws the blood soaked arm he's holding at the plainsman he's chased through the large village.
Pallen the blademaster comes to a halt after what he's just seen. And as he looks at his lover Sasha, who lies on the ground, with her right arm ripped off.
He sees that the former mercenary, who like him, is originally from the kingdom of Girdane.
Is still alive, and is attempting to move as blood pours from the gaping wound in her right shoulder.
The dangerous blademaster ducks as the large ork throws Sasha's right arm at him. The torn off limb just misses Pallen, who would of been knocked down if it had hit him.
The Girdanian blademaster stands back upright, and glares in anger as he looks at the large ork. Who is looking directly at him.
Then even with a sword sticking up in it's throat. A dagger in the side of it's face. A long dagger stuck in the side of it's neck. And with not one, but two swords stuck in the back of it's left leg.
It slightly turns to it's left where Gorlic the former arena fighter, is on the ground. Clutching at the bleeding stump of his left arm, while he tries to crawl away.
The large ork looks at Pallen again who has advanced a couple of steps, then stopped.
Then it steps to the left, and with it's left boot, it stomps down onto the middle of Gorlic's back as Pallen viciously shouts "Don't!".
The blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane grimaces as he sees the former arena fighter from the city-state of Brattonbury is no longer moving.
Then Pallen gasps as the large ork steps back to the right, back to near where his lover Sasha is trying to crawl away, even though she's bleeding out from where her right arm used to be.
The large ork slightly lifts up it's right foot, then looks straight at the dangerous blademaster.
Who sees a slight grin appear upon the blood covered, feral looking face of the ork as it looks directly at him. A grin that gets wider as it lifts it's right foot up higher.
And Pallen shouts "No!" in anger and rage as he rushes forward as the large ork brings it's right foot down. Stomping it's big, black boot down onto the side of Sasha the former mercenary's head.
The tall plainsman originally from the kingdom of Girdane leaps forward, swinging his longsword as he does so.
Pallen's longsword whacks into the face of the large ork. Hitting it so hard that the dagger that's stuck in it's left cheek, is whacked out, and sent flying.
The blademaster's weapon cuts across it's mouth and nose, as it cuts across the face of the ork who has attacked the village on this fine and sunny, though cold morning.
When the tall plainsman lands on his feet, to one side of the large ork, he quickly shoves his longsword upwards, catching it in the throat.
Pallen rips his blade sideways, which knocks free Sasha's sword that's already in the side of the large ork's throat.
There's a look of rage and determination on the face of the dangerous blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane as he rips his longsword sideways as he attempts to kill the large ork.
Then once his blade is free, he savagely grins as he sees blood pouring from the throat and neck of the ork.
Who for the first time, staggers sideways, then falls to one knee, even though it hasn't roared or screamed in pain from the horrible wounds it has received.
Then Pallen the blademaster after a quick glance at his lover Sasha lying dead on the ground with crushed head.
Lifts up his sword above his head, and swings it down like an axe at the bloody neck of the of the large ork, with every intention of trying to hack off it's large head as it's down on one knee.
Then just as Pallen's blade is about to hit. Something grabs his swordarm in an incredibly strong grip.
He sees the left hand of the large ork has got him by the forearm. The Girdanian blademaster hisses in pain as it squeezes, and he drops his longsword.
The large ork whose head was turned the other way, turns this way and looks at Pallen, who sees the wide grin upon it's feral looking, and very bloody face. Then it gets up off it's knee, and stands upright as it continues to squeeze the dangerous blademaster's right arm, breaking it.
"Got you" says Dorc da Orc in a bloody, gurgling growl as he comes out of the ork blood rage after getting what he wants . . . . . .

Aftermath 67.

The Kaldel Plains...

They weave between houses here on the north side of the village as the large ork relentlessly pursues them.
Sometimes Gorlic the former arena fighter falls back as he's running with a limp. Though for the most part he keeps up with both Pallen the blademaster and Sasha the former mercenary.
Gorlic glances back when he hears the growl of the pursuing ork. And he sees that it's less than twenty yards behind them now.
Infront of the former arena fighter from the city-state of Brattonbury, the tall plainsman originally from the kingdom of Girdane leads them around another of the roundhouses.
They squeeze by a couple of wagons, and hop over a few dead bodies, their fellow illegal wreckers who were killed earlier. And continue on their way through the north side of the village.
The wagons briefly slow the large ork, who has to stop and shove one out of the way so that he continue the chase.
He does so with little effort. And runs after the three of them as they flee from him. While he continues to growl every so often as he chases them.
Dorc da Orc purses the trio of illegal wreckers through the north side of the village.
The large ork wouldn't normally run after those he wants to kill. As he prefers people who want to fight him, to come to him. And the fact he can be more than a bit lazy at times.
But not this time, as the big burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world is the midst of a blood rage.
And the lazy attitude he sometimes has during battle has completely disappeared. And there's a determined relentlessness about him.
As he has one goal and one goal only. And that's to get his hands on the tall plainsman amongst the trio of illegal wreckers who are fleeing from him, here through the north side of the large village that's been the home of a crew of illegal wreckers over the last year or so.
"Watch out, behind us!" says Pallen the blademaster in warning to a pair of their fellow wreckers who are making their way in this direction.
"Run!" adds Sasha the former mercenary as she and lover Pallen, along with Gorlic the former arena fighter run by the two other illegal wreckers.
Who see who it is that's chasing Pallen, Sasha and Gorlic, they stop and turn to flee, though not quick enough.
Dorc da Orc runs into those two wreckers. Barely slowing as he does so. While one gets off fairly lightly, and spins away as he's clipped by the ork warleader, then crashes into a nearby cart full of firewood.
The other illegal wrecker is not so lucky. As he takes the brunt of the impact from the large ork who is in full stride as he runs.
That illegal wrecker slams into the ground with force. And if he isn't dead from both the impact of Dorkindle running into him, or from hitting the ground.
He's definitely dead when one of the ork general's boots stomps down upon his throat and face, smashing apart his skull.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, continues to growl as he chases after the trio of illegal wreckers not all that far infront of him.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, who incidentally killed his mother. Though it was in self defence, as she was doing her best to kill him at the time.
Doesn't take his eyes off the plainsman with the long hair in braids as he chases after the trio of illegal wreckers.
And if he briefly loses sight of them when they go behind a house or another building found here on the north side of the village.
Houses and buildings that the ork weaponsmith will invariably just run right through.
He can smell the scent of the plainsman he's after. So that the large ork will never lose track of him.
Dorc da Orc knows that even if the three illegal wreckers, in particular the plainsman are faster than him. They'll never out run him, as he as an ork can run for days on end if he wants to. Now, even more so since he's in the throes of a blood rage.
Which can only be stopped if he gets a hold of what he's after. And he's after the plainsman with the braided long hair.
As they run westwards through the north side of the village, the smell of smoke gets stronger. And they see puffs of black smoke every once in a while as they head along the north side of the large village they've lived in for over a year now.
Pallen the blademaster who knows they have to do something, as it doesn't look like the pursuit from the large ork is going to end anytime soon.
Looks away to his left when he spots movement in that direction. The dangerous blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane heads that way.
Followed by his lover, Sasha the former mercenary who like him is also from Girdane. Along with Gorlic the former arena fighter who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
The tall plainsman who wears his hair in plaids as most plainsmen do. Spots a group of his fellow wreckers hurrying up in this direction through the village.
The dangerous blademaster sees an opportunity, and calls out "Behind us!" followed by "Attack it!".
And after his lover Sasha looks at him sharply, Pallen quickly and quietly says to her "We have to do something" the blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane then adds "We can't keep running like this".
Behind the tall plainsman, and the good looking, one eyed woman who before taking up a life of crime as an illegal wrecker, was a mercenary.
The former arena fighter Gorlic says "Sounds good to me" followed by "Because I'm stuffed" as he runs with a slight limp.
And when they're joined by five of their fellow illegal wreckers. They turn, and with weapons in hand, they face the large ork who has chased them from the clearing in the middle of the village.
Dorc da Orc doesn't stop when he sees them along with some other wreckers, come to a stop and confront him.
The weaponsmith in the wolf tribe of orks keeps running, and he runs straight at the plainsman with the long hair in braids, who is the ork warleader's target.
With his longsword in hand, Pallen the blademaster waits until the last moment, before he dives to one side to avoid getting run over by the growling ork.
Then as the large ork comes to a stop, the other five wreckers, along with Sasha and Gorlic, attack the ork as the blademaster scrambles out of the way, and gets up off the ground.
The former arena fighter Gorlic nods his head when Sasha the former mercenary shouts "It's face and legs!".
As he can see that's best thing to target on the large ork. Who is loudly growling as it turns around to face them.
Gorlic biffs a throwing knife at it, hoping to hit it in the eye. No such luck, though his knife does get stuck in the face of the large ork.
Which by the looks of it, doesn't appear to even feel the knife sticking out of it's face.
And as it only has eyes for Pallen the blademaster, it doesn't even notice when one of the wreckers rushes in. And swings his axe at it legs, slamming the weapon into the large ork's left thigh.
"Fuck me" mutters Sasha the former mercenary as blood goes flying when one of the other wreckers axe slams into the left leg of the large ork.
Who ignores it, and instead walks purposefully to where Pallen has got up off the ground.
One of the other wreckers has picked up a rock, and throws it at the face of the large ork.
The rock smashes in to it's face, and it doesn't even miss a stride as it continues towards the dangerous blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane who is backing away.
Two of the other wreckers rush in with their swords. And so does Gorlic, who is now behind the large ork.
The three of them strike it almost at the same time. A sword whacks it in the right forearm. And another is stabbed into it's right leg, just above the knee.
While Gorlic swings his sword at the back of the ork's legs. The former arena fighter from the city-state of Brattonbury, who slashes across the back of the large ork's legs.
Screws up his face in disgust when he's right behind it, and he finds out how disgusting it smells.
So much so, that he takes a few steps back to get away from it, as he slightly gags from the putrid stench coming off it, on this cold and clear morning, here in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
One of the other wreckers who just hit it, is almost infront of the large ork, and he stabs his sword at it again, only for it to rebound off the black piece of armour it wears over it's chest and ample belly.
That wrecker goes to stab it once more, this time in the groin. That's until the large ork lifts it's arms up, and slaps it's hands together.
Sasha the former mercenary gags then hops back as the wrecker that was infront of the large ork drops to the ground dead, minus his head.
Which was pulverized between the hands of the large ork, when it slapped it's hands together.
Then as another of the wreckers stabs at the large ork again, and his sword gets stuck in it's left leg.
Sasha moves forward with the wrecker with the axe, who swings his weapon at the other leg of the large ork.
He misses, though Sasha, who is originally from the kingdom of Girdane, which lies to the south of the Kaldel Plains.
Leaps up, and stabs her sword into the side of the large ork's neck, and whips it across the back of it's neck.
And though the good looking woman who only has one eye, and has a gnarly looking scar down one side of her face.
Cuts the large ork's neck open, she sees it isn't a very deep cut. Nor does it slow the ork in any way, as it continues towards Pallen, who is still backing away, drawing the large ork towards him.
Gorlic the former arena fighter dives forward, and rams his sword into the back of the large ork's left leg just below the knee.
And when the sword gets stuck in it's leg, it slows down for the very first time. And it growls louder than it has so far.
The former arena fighter from the city-state of Brattonbury, who has ended up flat on the ground. Is lucky he has done so. As the large ork swings it's left arm back in this direction.
It misses Gorlic by a lot. But not the wrecker whose sword is already in the left leg of the large ork.
Gorlic winces as he clearly hears that wrecker's neck snap when the large ork's fist clips that man's chin.
The former arena fighter from the coastal city of Brattonbury, pushes himself up off the ground, and draws his long dagger.
The illegal wrecker with the axe goes to swing it up at the large ork's face, and though he misses, it does thud into the upper right arm of the large ork.
Splashing blood into the face of that wrecker, who stumbles backwards when he pulls his axe free.
Until the arm he just hit, swings out at him, and the right fist of the large ork catches him in the throat. He drops to the ground unable to breathe with a crushed throat.
Another of the wreckers gets in a good blow with his sword, which he slams into the left leg of the large ork, whacking into it's left shin. Once again slightly slowing it. He goes to whack it in the leg again.
But has to duck out of the way of a swinging arm, which he avoids. But he doesn't avoid the knee from the leg he just whacked. As it drives into the side of his head, caving it in, killing him instantly.
There's just one other wrecker now standing along with Gorlic, Sasha and Pallen. And as he circles around the back of the large ork to join Gorlic who is behind it.
Pallen the blademaster spots an axe on a nearby pile of firewood up against the side of a roundhouse.
The dangerous blademaster from the kingdom of Girdane grabs it, and darts a quick glance at his lover Sasha, who he sees looking his way.
While behind the large ork, Gorlic looks at the other wrecker, and gestures at the back of the large ork who is striding towards Pallen, who is next to one of the roundhouses.
The four wrecker act almost in unison. Pallen throws the axe he grabbed, then moves forward. While Sasha stabs her sword up at the large ork.
Behind it, the other wrecker dashes forward and swings his sword at the back of it's legs.
While the former arena fighter Gorlic, limp and all. Runs forward, and with long dagger in hand, leaps up.
Dorc da Orc is whacked in the face by the thrown axe, and his head whips back.
At the same time, the point of a sword is shoved up into the side of his throat.
While another sword whacks him across the back of the left leg, right behind the knee.
Then the large ork feels someone jump on him, and hold onto a shoulder, and repeatedly stab him in the back of the neck, and the other side of his throat.
And for the first time since he's gone into a blood rage, the ork warleader stops growling, and instead roars.
Dorkindle who can't feel much or anything of what's happened to him, as he's in the middle of the ork blood rage.
Kicks back with his right leg, and his boot connects with the wrecker who just hit him in the back of the leg.
That wrecker drops to ground screaming in agony, with a shattered left leg.
As he does, Dorc da Orc as a blade is repeatedly stabbed into the left side of the neck and throat.
Turns his head to the left and back, then bites. While at the same time, he reaches out with his right hand, and grabs the arm holding the sword that's just stabbed up into that side of his throat again.
"No!" shouts Pallen the blademaster as he rushes towards the large ork as he sees what's just happened . . . . . .