A Grand Design 19.

Late Autumn. The City Of Oaklynn. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

In the smiths quarter of the city of Oaklynn, not all that far from the Iron Monger inn where they're staying.
Mira Reinholt the mage who is in the shop of a weapons dealer. Looks over at two men, obviously mercenaries, who are purchasing new blades.
The once powerful mage who is over by one of the cabinets, looking at some of the weapons for sale.
Listens to the conversation between the two mercenaries, and the shopkeeper. And hears that the mercenaries, who have recently arrived here in the city of Oaklynn. Have got a new hire.
The spellcaster, who is from the city-state of Vexil, who is in exile from his homeland.
Isn't all that surprised by the mercenaries being hired. But he is surprised at who has hired them.
After the mercenaries have conducted their business, and they've left the shop.
The mage Reinholt, who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, makes his way over to the counter.
"Ah swordmaster, here to pick them up are you?" asks the weapons dealer after he and the once powerful mage greet one another.
"I am" says Mira Reinholt the mage, who the shopkeeper immediately recognised was a swordmaster by the unique weapon the Vexilian mage in exile has across his back.
As only an expert swordmaster would use such a double bladed weapon. Or a complete idiot. And the spellcaster definitely doesn't come across as an idiot.
"Were they difficult to find?" asks the mage who is also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
"Not too difficult" says the shopkeeper as he goes into the backroom behind the counter.
As he comes back carrying a leather fold, the weapons dealer adds "I had one of the nearby weaponsmiths make them from the example you gave me".
The shopkeeper lays the leather fold out on the counter, then opens it. To reveal a number of bolts, that slightly resemble crossbow bolts. But they're smaller, and much smoother.
"Fine quality" says the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of the majority of his powers when he accidentally cast a rift/void spell and went offworld.
"That they are" says the weapons dealer, who then shakes his head and adds "Why you'd need such things as these is beyond me".
"Back up" cryptically says the swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil.
"I guess so" says the shopkeeper, who then closes up the leather fold. And the mage Reinholt hands him over the amount they agreed upon when he ordered the small bolts.
After the weapons dealer hands the leather fold over to the spellcaster who is in exile from the city-state of Vexil, the mage Reinholt says "Your last customers" followed by "Getting many of them in the shop of late?".
"There's been a few of them over the last couple of days" says the shopkeeper who continues with "Getting hired by the crown for the upcoming campaign against those rebels out west". As it's no secret that word has reached the capital that the duchies of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar have rebelled against the crown, and that their armies are on the march.
The proprietor of the small shop that sells mostly weapons at the more expensive end of the market, then says "You looking for a hire swordmaster?".
"Hardly" says Mira Reinholt in a slightly dry tone of voice, who continues in that same tone with "I doubt they could afford me".
"I don't know" says the weapons dealer who continues with "Word is that the king has opened up the treasury, and is spending up large to hire mercenaries to supplement his army".
The once powerful mage who has the hood of his cloak off his head at the moment, nods his head, then quietly says "Interesting".
Then the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, gestures around at the shop, then asks the weapons dealer "Will you be called up to serve?".
"Thankfully not" says the shopkeeper, who then adds in a slightly sour tone of voice "Though I'll have to give a quota of goods, which of course they'll pay the least amount they can for" he then adds "The crown might be willing to pay up large for mercenaries, who of course have their own weapons and armour. But they'll pay as little as possible to the local merchants to outfit their own army".
"You could refuse" states the Vexilian mage in exile, the shopkeeper snorts then says "And watch them put up my taxes, no thank you".
"They'll do that anyway" says the swordmaster Reinholt with a shrug of his shoulders, who then continues on with "Governments always do that in times of war, I've seen it all across the Southlands in my travels".
"Bloody governments" mutters the weapons dealer, who then chuckles when the once powerful mage says "That they are" as he softly laughs.
After that, they chat a little bit longer, until another customer enters the small shop. The mage Reinholt shakes hands with the proprietor, who says "Good doing business with you swordmaster". "And with you" says the member of the personal council to lord Farque, who then makes his way out of the shop.
Out on the street, Mira Reinholt with the leather fold in his pack that he brought with him. Looks around, and spots Shur Kee the monk infront of a shop at the other end of the quiet street. One of the few such streets in the busy part of the city, where most of the smiths, metal workers and foundries can be found.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster makes his way down to where the short, statured monk is standing out of the wind, on this cold and windy morning, here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
When he reaches the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, Shur Kee the monk quietly tells him "Word is that a large number of them are leaving this morning".
The physical adept, who happens to be the living conduit of the Jade Warrior Bru Li, points out into the larger and busier street infront of them, and quietly adds "People have been talking about it on the street as they have gone by".
The mage Reinholt, who has put his hood back on his head, nods then quietly asks "From the palace barracks or the army ones?".
"The army ones" replies the short statured monk, who hails from the otherside of the continent. The far east coast to be exact. Where his homeland, the kingdom of Wah Lee is located.
"Let's go and check it out" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster as they step out onto the larger street, and go right.
"Where to?" asks the acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li "To that tower beyond that stretch of foundries" replies the exiled Vexilian mage who continues with "Should get a good view from up there".
The physical adept nods in agreement, as they set off towards the tower in question.
As they walk through the streets in this quarter of the city, Mira Reinholt quietly tells Shur Kee "The crown has started to hire mercenaries".
The thin eyebrows of the short, statured monk lift up in surprise when he hears that.
"I know" says the once powerful mage, who continues on with "The king is either worried or cautious" followed by "But whatever it is, he's not taking the threat of the rebellion from the three dukes out in the west lightly".
The acolyte in the order of Bru Li, who is about five years younger than the highly skilled swordmaster, nods and quietly says "He is wise not to" he continues with "A campaign in the wintertime will be long and arduous for both sides. And it will prove difficult to win".
The mage Reinholt nods his hooded head in agreement, then softly says "We'll have to do all that we can so our side is victorious".
They soon get to the tower, which is located behind one of the larger foundries here in the northeast quarter of the city of Oaklynn.
The tower formerly belonged to the old city watch, a few centuries ago. Now that organisation no longer exists as such. As it was folded into the auspices of the regent of Oaklynn. And for the last two hundred and fifty years, has been in within the regent of Oaklynn's army.
The tower was abandoned, until the guild of metal workers nearly two centuries ago, purchased it from the city.
And though it's used predominantly to watch vessels coming into the airdocks to the north of the city proper.
It's also used by the general public, as an observation tower. The only tall tower in the entire city to do so. For a small fee, you can go up the tower to look around at the city of Oaklynn, the capital of Girdane.
Entry is only a couple of copper coins, which Mira Reinholt and Shur Kee both pay the guild representative at the base of the tower. Then the two of them start making their way up the tower.
A tower which normally on a cold and windy morning, at the end of autumn. Wouldn't be particularly busy. But word has spread that a large contingent of the king's army is departing the city this morning. So many people in this part of the city. Have come to the tower, to watch them leave Oaklynn. And head westwards to confront the armies of the dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen. Who have rebelled against the king and crown.
At the top of the tower, it's open. With a waist high wall all around the edge. There's about twenty five people up here. Even though it's a blustery cold day. A sure sign that winter isn't all that far away.
The once powerful mage and the physical adept get a spot by themselves. Simply by the mage Reinholt casting a group spell, to have the others up here, get out of the way. Allowing them an unobstructed view towards the army barracks over in the west side of the city.
The exiled Vexilian mage takes out his leather wrapped, cylindrical brass eyepiece, and hands it to the short statured monk.
While the spellcaster who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, casts a farsight spell upon himself.
"Quite a lot of them leaving this morning" quietly says Mira Reinholt as they watch soldiers, both on horseback and on foot. Leaving the army barracks over in the west of the city.
There's a long line of them, going through the streets of the city, as they start their journey towards the west of the kingdom.
The mage Reinholt wonders if any of them will travel via rift or gateway. As they've seen some of the king's army do over the last couple of days.
He rather doubts it, as it looks like these companies are equipped for a fairly decent time on the roads to the western duchies of the kingdom.
"Must be two and half thousand at least making their way through the city" softly says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who then adds "And probably that amount again, still in the barracks waiting to leave".
Shur Kee the monk, who is an honorary member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, quietly says "I agree".
Then the physical adept, who is an acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li adds "There is friend Dalin".
"Where?" asks the Vexilian mage in exile, who after the short, statured monk tells him when the elven spy is, he spots Dalinvardél Tanith.
The spy Tanith is on the rooftop of a taverna. He's the only customer sitting at one of the tables on the roof. As it isn't a particular pleasant day to be out in the blustery wind today.
But the rooftop is on a street, down from the army barracks in the west of the city. Which gives the elven spy who hails from the principality of Alínlae, a clear view of the gates at the front of the barracks.
That company after company, battalion after battalion, of the king's army are making their way out of.
"He should be able to give us better count of how many of them are departing" quietly says Mira Reinholt, who then looks away to the north of the city, to where the airdocks are located about a mile away.
From the largest of the circular airdocks, which is hundreds of yards across. The once powerful mage with his farsight spell, clearly sees a number of airships getting ready to depart. There's already a fair few in the air heading north.
And though some are in the king's fleet, most of them are merchant vessels that the crown has hired. To carry troops and supplies out to the western part of the kingdom.
Knowing that the three rebellious dukes, and their forces. Are less likely to attack airships that don't belong to the crown.
"I'll have to send another message out" quietly says the mage Reinholt, as a number of others up here, head back down the tower as the blustery wind has got even stronger.
"Hopefully it'll get through" quietly adds the exiled Vexilian mage, who has sent messages everyday since the king of Girdane, Jarnard the Second. Declared the dukes Hilloc, Korros and Lombasil rebels. Who have launched a revolution against the crown.
The acolyte in the order of Bru Li nods, then as he looks through the leather wrapped, cylindrical eyepiece, Shur Kee slightly frowns, then he quietly says "Hmmm" followed by "Ah that is what they are".
The physical adept, who is a master of unarmed combat, quietly tells the mage Reinholt "From the squat towers at the back of the barracks".
The highly skilled swordmaster looks back towards the army barracks in the west of the city, as Shur Kee quietly says to him "Wyverns".
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Nods his hooded head when he spots the wyverns and their riders. There's four of them, two on the top of each tower. And though one tries to snap at another one on the tower they're on.
All four of them launch, with two heading out west. While the other two go south across the city. Presumably to the main army barracks in the region. Which are about twenty miles south of the capital in the duchy of Marsin. Which the city of Oaklynn lies in the north of.
"A big push" quietly says Mira Reinholt "Airships heading west, and wyvern riders departing, as well as mercenaries being hired by the crown, for a decent price too" quietly adds the exiled Vexilian swordmaster, who continues on with "The king isn't holding back is he".
"He is not" quietly says Shur Kee "He wants to crush this rebellion" adds the honorary member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The short statured monk, who wears odd white clothing, with a thick white wool cloak. And a strange looking, conical shaped hat, takes the eyepiece away from his face, and looks at the taller man standing beside him, who he's known for nearly fifteen years, and quietly says "This will be a lot more difficult than the campaign in the north of Nastell we did for those robber barons".
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, just slightly grunts in agreement with that.
As he too sees that the upcoming campaign between the crown. And the trio of rebellious dukes from the very west of the kingdom.
Whose side they're on, as the dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar have hired one of the armies of Farque.
Is going to be a lot more difficult than the campaign they were a part of in the duchy of Phelm in northern Nastell at the end of spring, and the start of summer.
For the simple reason this coming war is going to be in the winter. And that there's a lot more combatants involved on both sides of the conflict.
"Come on, let's go and get Dalin" quietly says Mira Reinholt who drops his farsight spell, and takes his leather wrapped, brass cylindrical eyepiece back from Shur Kee.
"Then i have to write some new missives" quietly continues the Vexilian mage in exile, who then dryly adds "Hopefully i can find another bloody ship to take them out west".
The acolyte in the order of Bru Li nods his head, then the two of them make their way to the steps, that wind their way down through the tower that's nearly a hundred and fifty feet tall.
They go to get Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy as the three of them continue to observe the goings on here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane . . . . . .

A Grand Design 18.

Late Autumn. The Duchy Of Dalmar. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

"Waagen?" says lord Farque, Arvelle Ganard the plainsman nods his shaved head and says "Waagen".
"What the hell?" mutters the undead warlord as he sits upon his camp chair in his tent.
Next to the heavily armoured deathlord, the elven masterthief, prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel frowns.
"Dorc says it was group of about ten" says the tall plainsman with the shaved head.
From the corner of the tent where he sits, Dorc da Orc grunts, then says "Fucken man doggies".
"And that's not all" continues Arvelle Ganard who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The tall plainsman who is a former illegal wrecker who plied his trade on the Kaldel Plains, turns to Tamric Drubine the field commander and quietly tells him "Have the sorcerer Larris come in".
The young field commander makes his way to the door, and sticks his head outside. A couple moments later and subaltern Larris enters the tent.
And along with field commander Drubine, makes his way over to where the others are.
The sorcerer bows to his lord, then turns to Arvelle the plainsman, who tells him "Show them".
"Yes councillor" says the sorcerer Larris, who then casts an illusion spell. Showing what he and the others who went up into the duchy of Falosen over the last few days, found.
"That is the smallest damn waagen I've ever seen" quietly says lord Farque as they look at the illusion of the dead waagen that some of the group found near a village in the north of the duchy of Falosen.
Then the lord of the death realm mutters "Fuck" as he realises what it means.
A moment later, and standing next to the undead warlord, the young elven noble Helbenthril Raendril winces as he realises what it means too.
"Now we know what's happened to all those missing children and youngsters" quietly says Arvelle Ganard, who in actual fact is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson who just happens to inhabit the body of the former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains.
"Not all of them" quietly says the lord of the death realm, who continues on with "Waagen are picky fucking creatures, probably only one in ten of their victims they intend to turn actually turn".
The heavily armoured deathlord looks at the elven magic user standing beside him, and asks him "How many children are missing across the three duchies?".
"Hundreds" is the reply from Helbe the elven thief who continues with "At least five hundred, maybe six or seven hundred, could be more" the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel then adds "The dukes soldiers gave up counting, especially from the remotest areas".
"So there could be seventy waagen or more here in the west of the kingdom" quietly says the deathlord of Farque, who looks at councillor Ganard, who looks like he wants to tell him more.
"Continue" says the undead being who is also know by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"They're working in conjunction with at least one spellcaster" says Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who then explains how the waagen that attacked one of the villages in the north of the duchy of Falosen, suddenly disappeared. Either through a gateway, rift or portal.
Lord Farque looks over at Dorc da Orc who grunts in agreement with what councillor Ganard just said.
Then the heavily armoured deathlord whose nation lies far to the south, looks at the sorcerer Larris, who says "The councillor is correct my lord".
Draugadrottin, or as he's known to an older generation of elven kind, Des'tier, which translates to The Destroyer, nods his full helmed head, then falls silent.
After a little while, the lord of the death realm says to the sorcerer Larris "You may leave".
"Yes my lord" says the subaltern in the armies of Farque, who bows to his lord, then makes his way from the large tent.
While inside, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque remains with two of his councillors, Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman. Along with the ork warleader, Dorc da Orc. As well as the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
"What should we do?" asks Arvelle Ganard "Inform the dukes?" adds the former illegal wrecker who is from the Kaldel Plains.
"That might not be for the best" quietly says the heavily armoured deathlord who continues with "They've got other things to worry about".
The undead being briefly pauses, before he says "Now we know that someone else is involved with what's happening out here in the west of the kingdom" Draugadrottin then adds "Whoever it is they know what they're doing. Because a group of fully grown adult recently turned waagen would be a fucking nightmare to control. But children, that's a different thing entirely. They'd be easier to control, and will do what an older adult waagen tells them to do".
The others nod, then Arvelle aka Zubutai Timaginson says "Who could it be then?" the tall plainsman with the shaven head follows that with "Whoever it is, they're attacking both the dukes men, as well as the king's".
"That's something we'll have to find out" quietly says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "Especially as reports are coming into camp that the king's men are getting attacked along the roads as they come out in this direction".
"By the dukes scouting parties?" asks councillor Ganard who frowns as he thought they'd yet to attack any of the king's army who are helping out with the treatment of those affected by the plague that's hit the three most western duchies in the kingdom of Girdane.
"No" says Des'tier, who continues with "We haven't given them the order to attack the enemy yet". As they, the armies of Farque have command of the dukes of Falosen, Girnath, and Dalmar's armies in their rebellion against the crown.
"It's probably these waagen and whoever it is that's in control of them" says the undead being in the dark blue, and black, full suite of heavy plate armour.
"Someone who looks like they might want to take advantage of a war between the three dukes out here in the very west of the kingdom, and the crown" quietly says the lord of the death realm, who then looks at the others here in his large tent with him, and adds "It might be in our best interests to find out who it is".
The others all nod, with the exception of Dorc da Orc who has grown bored of the conversation. And instead has taken one of his axes from his weapon harness, and is thoroughly inspecting it. Looking for any damage on the blade, or down the haft.
The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Might be a slovenly, and quite frankly, a rather filthy individual. He can't help that, he's an ork. They naturally stink.
And they'll do nothing if possible to clean themselves up.
But that can't be said about their weapons. No matter the quality of the weapon. They'll make sure they're well maintained. And always ready for battle.
After all, that's one of the main reasons of living for an ork. To fight, anyone and anywhere. They don't particularly care, just as long as they fight.
Seeing the ork general enamoured with one of his weapons. Which is fine by lord Farque, as he knows the warleader of the ork race won't be getting into any trouble while he's doing that.
The heavily armoured deathlord looks at the young field commander Tamric Drubine and asks him "Is all of duke Lombasil's army in?".
"Not quite, the last of them should be here later this morning, or in the early afternoon" replies Tamric Drubine the field commander "Most of their supply wagons will be with that lot" adds the nobleborn teenager who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The lord of the death realm nods his full helmed head, then quietly says "Might be best if we break camp, and get moving before the last of them ride in".
Des'tier or The Destroyer, as his elven name is translated to the common language, continues with "Even if we don't travel that far throughout the rest of the day, we'll still be on the border with the duchy of Poldis at sunset".
The others, with the exception of Dorkindle again, all nod. As they all know what it'll mean once the armies of dukes Lombasil, Korros, and Hilloc. Along with their own. Cross over into the next duchy to the east, the duchy of Poldis.
It'll be the start of the rebellion against the crown by the dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar. And once they cross over into Poldis. There'll be no turning back, and they'll have to stay the course. Either their rebellion will be successful. Or they'll be defeated. There's no inbetween.
"You might want to talk to the dukes about that" says the undead warlord to field commander Drubine "Remember, this is effectively your army, and you command the campaign" adds the lord ruler of the lands Farque.
The lord of the death realm gestures at the others, and tells the nobleborn teenager who hails from the kingdom of Sarcrin "The others are here to help you make your decisions, but ultimately when it comes time for battle, it's your commands they'll follow".
Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, nods then says "Yes my lord".
"Good" says Draugadrottin, who then tells the son and former heir to a previous knight of castle Drubine, a castle located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin "Best you get going and tell the dukes to start breaking down the camp".
The young field commander in the armies of Farque, bows to the undead being, then makes his way out of the large tent.
"Cunt" says lord Farque in the ork language "Go with Tam" adds the heavily armoured deathlord in the same language.
"Why?" grunts Dorkindle in his native language "Because i fucking said so" says Draugadrottin in the incomprehensible language of the ork race.
"And because you're a big fat ugly mean looking cunt, who stinks like shit" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks is about to protest that. And say that he's not fat, nor is he ugly, but is infact pretty.
But instead he chuckles as the undead warlord adds "And people tend to shit themselves, and do what they're told to do when you're hanging around, looking like you want to kill them".
"Now get fucking going" continues the deathlord of Farque, who was given an ork name centuries ago when he was still alive. A name near impossible to pronounce in both the ork language, and especially in the common tongue.
But which translates into common as Little Kaiuss. A name all but forgotten. And only remembered by those who were with him when he was alive, or knew him when he was alive.
After a chuckling Dorkindle exits the large tent, and follows after the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
Lord Farque looks at one such person, or individual who briefly knew him when he was alive.
"There's something i want you to do gnat" quietly says the lord of the death realm in the ground pixie language.
Upon the right shoulder of Helbe the elven thief, Narladene the ground pixie lifts a questioning eyebrow as she looks at the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
Who then quietly tells her in the ground pixie language, what he wants her to do.
After listening to the undead warlord, the naturally magical creature nods her head, then Narladene the ground pixie asks "Now?".
"Now" says Des'tier, the tiny winged creature nods again, then she drops off the right shoulder of the young elven noble she's attached to, and she flies down to the ground, which she dives into.
After seeing Narladene disappear into the ground, and wondering where she's going to.
The highly talented elven magic user she's attached to, looks at the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and lifts a questioning eyebrow.
"Waagen" is all Draugadrottin says in response to the inquiring look from the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
The elven masterthief nods his hooded head, then gesturing to his fellow council member, Arvelle Ganard, he asks the undead being "What do you want us to do?".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord gets up off his camp chair, then tells the elven princeling from Laerel and the former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains what he wants them to do. And more importantly what he expects of the two of them.
As they, as members of his personal council. Are here to not only guide their army, and help field commander Drubine come up with the plans for the campaign of the dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar's rebellion against the crown and king of Girdane.
But also to make sure that the three dukes, their allies and armies, are successful in their rebellion against the crown.
For if they're not successful. They, meaning the army thats travelled here from the lands Farque, won't get paid the full amount due.
"Come on" says the undead warlord with a nod of his full helmed head, then the three of them make their way out of the large tent.
Once outside, they see that their own army has started to break down their camp, as they prepare to head to the border with the duchy of Poldis, which is less than ten miles away.
They look towards where the armies of the three dukes are camped, and see that they've yet to start breaking down their camp.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque, along with two of the members of his personal council, start making their way towards the camp of the armies of the dukes Hilloc, Korros and Lombasil.
When they get to the camp of the dukes armies, the order has been given, and it's started to come down.
"We'll have to have some of our own spellcasters work with them" quietly says lord Farque in the elven language to Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman.
"The dukes don't have all that many spellcasters of their own" continues the heavily armoured deathlord, who follows that with "Orders will be slow to spread through their armies if we don't do it" Draugadrottin then dryly adds "Which will be a fucking problem during battle".
Both the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, and the tall plainsman with the shaved head from the Kaldel Plains nod in agreement.
Then prince Helbenthril Raendril quietly says "I'll see to it" followed by "And make sure Tam knows".
Des'tier nods his full helmed head as they make their way to where duke Hilloc has his command tent, as that's where the three dukes who have decided to have a revolution against the crown, spend most of their time.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque senses that the trio of dukes are there, as well as Tamric Drubine and Dorc da Orc.
"Once we're under way, that'll be it" quietly explains the lord of the death realm, who continues with "We'll be fighting through the winter as we head east".
"Think they've got a chance?" quietly asks the highly talented elven magic user, prince Helbenthril Raendril.
"They've got an even chance I'd say" is the reply from the Draugadrottin who continues with "From the sounds of it, even with us, they've got a smaller force than what the king can field".
Both the elven masterthief and the former illegal wrecker nod in agreement, and the undead being tells them "Still, that doesn't amount to all that much when it comes to a campaign" followed by "Especially a revolution".
The three of them know that if they can head further east into the kingdom without too much hindrance before they encounter the bulk of the crown's forces.
The dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen have a fairly successful chance in their rebellion against the crown and king.
The campaign is bound to be drawn out anyway as it will be fought during the wintertime.
But if the armies from the very west of the kingdom get as far east as possible before having any major engagements with the forces of the king. The better chance they have in their rebellion being successful.
"You know, if the dukes are successful" quietly says Arvelle the plainsman who continues with "And they depose the king" he briefly pauses, before he adds "Who'll be the new king of Girdane?".
The three of them are silent, as they along with the three dukes, Lombasil, Korros and Hilloc have yet to have any discussion about that . . . . . .

A Grand Design 17.

Late Autumn. The City Of Oaklynn. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

Earlier in the morning, lord Sammis the regent of the city of Oaklynn. Went through the secret underground tunnel that connects his plush residence with the council building next door.
The nobleman who effectively rules the capital city of Oaklynn, spent most of the morning in the council chambers, with the city council. Going over what's expected for the coming winter, here in the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
Everything from the sewers being kept clear and running. To the prices the stall holders have to pay to have access to the public markets.
After much deliberation, and a fair bit of grumbling from council members.
They decided to slightly drop the charges for the stall holders in the public markets. For the simple reason it's winter, and people tend to spend less in the colder months in the year.
With the firewood and coal sellers really the only ones making a profit at this time of the year.
Besides, the council agreed, at the suggestion from lord Sammis himself. That the taxes the crown gets from the very west of the kingdom. Should cover any shortfall the council has from lowering the charges for the stall holders in the public markets in the city.
The relationship between the city of Oaklynn and the rest of the kingdom, which is the crown, in this case the king. Is a little murky and convoluted to say the least.
The capital city is supposed to be run separately from the rest of the kingdom. That's why Oaklynn has a council, which is headed by the regent.
But it's not that simple. Infact it's far from it. Especially considering the current regent, and the current king. Are cousins, who are close. Or so it seems.
The crown, who at this moment is king Jarnard the Second. Is still close with his cousin the regent.
And by all appearances, lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn is close with his cousin. But appearances are deceiving.
For the king of Girdane, doesn't know that his cousin, who is one of his best friends. Has been working on a plan for several years now.
A plan that started when he suggested to his cousin the king to increase the taxes for the three most western duchies in the kingdom. Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar.
The king was intending to do that, just not at the amount his cousin suggested it be raised to.
And when the council of lords at the king's court heard of this. Information that was cleverly leaked by regent Sammis.
They wholeheartedly agreed on increasing the taxes upon the three most western duchies in the kingdom, to the level that the regent suggested.
Even though they all knew the duchies of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen wouldn't be able to afford it in the long run.
As they're the remotest part of the kingdom, with the smallest population, who have never generated wealth like the rest of the kingdom.
Especially compared to here in the east of Girdane, where the capital Oaklynn is located.
After that lord Sammis concocted the next part of his scheme. Which was more of a happy accident than anything else.
Which resulted in his marriage to the lady Mera, younger sister of duke Hilloc of Dalmar.
True it was a forced marriage, and against her wishes. But she could do nothing to stop it. Especially after lord Sammis beat her so much. That she was basically unconscious as a frightened priest married the two of them in private.
The regent of Oaklynn knew that duke Hilloc wouldn't let things go with his sister Mera marrying lord Sammis. Whose two previous wives died in rather suspicious circumstances.
And that the rumours of rebellion in the very west of the kingdom, with the tax increases a couple of years earlier.
The forced marriage of the younger sister of the duke who is seen as the leader of the potential rebellion. Would push things even closer to a revolt against the crown.
Now, some eighteen months after his marriage to the lady Mera of Dalmar. The regent of Oaklynn has set the next phase of his scheme into motion.
First with the outbreak of the plague in the very west of the kingdom, at the end of summer, early autumn.
A plague that was magically created by his own wizard, the wizard Haric who serves in his army.
Then in the middle of autumn, he suggested to his cousin the king. That they do something to stop the plague that's hit the duchies of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen. Just incase it comes eastwards, into the heart of the kingdom.
Which again, both his cousin king Jarnard the Second, and the council of lords agreed to.
And now, the regent of Oaklynn has set the latest part of his plan into action during the end of autumn.
A part that's been in the works for a couple of years. As he's thought of a way to have a force  of unstoppable soldiers working for him.
And now he's just waiting for confirmation of that latest part of his scheme has been successful or not.
He's hoping it has been. And that his plans are working as he'd always hoped they would.
It's late in the morning, when a royal messenger from the palace arrives at the council building, and is ushered into the chambers where the council meets.
Where he informs that lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn is immediately summoned to the palace.
The regent of the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane, refrains from grinning when he hears that.
He summons his carriage, as he doesn't like to walk down the longest street in the city to get to the palace.
And a short while later, and the regent of Oaklynn, along with one of his advisors. As well as the general of his army. Are in the covered carriage. Heading towards the palace.
"Who's in that one?" quietly asks Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, who follows that with "And what are they doing?".
"I don't know" is the quiet reply of Mira Reinholt the mage, who then dryly adds "I have to be able to see someone to read their minds".
As they sit at a table infront of a taverna, on a side street, off the longest street in the city of Oaklynn.
Which has the palace on it, as well as the regent's residence, which is essentially a mansion. And the council building, that's next door to it.
Though they're at the other end from the massive palace, which is the largest structure in Oaklynn. If you discount the massive airdocks, that are just outside of the city proper.
The once powerful mage then reads the mind of the carriage driver, then he slightly nods his hooded head.
The spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil, which he's in exile from, quietly says to the spy Tanith "It's the regent, and couple of his lackeys".
The mage, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who is speaking in the elven language, adds "He's been summoned to the palace".
"Something must of happened" quietly says Dalinvardél Tanith, who is more commonly called Dalin by the others in the group.
The Vexilian mage in exile nods in agreement with the spy originally from the elven principality of Alínlae.
Then Mira Reinholt says to the elven spy "We'll find out soon enough i suppose".
"Have you been able to read his mind at all?" asks the spy Tanith referring to lord Sammis, the regent of the city of Oaklynn.
"I haven't" says the highly skilled swordmaster, who continues on with "He never seems to go out in public" followed by "Well, at least not any where I've been".
The spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Who lost the majority of his vast amount of powers when he accidentally cast a rift/void that sent him offworld.
Then quietly says to the elven spy from Alínlae "When i do know of his whereabouts, he's always in his damn carriage" the exiled Vexilian mage then mutters "Lazy ass noble".
Even though the enclosed carriage is now out of view, the elven spy looks in the direction it was going, and quietly says to the once powerful mage "You might have to think about sneaking into his mansion, or the council buildings next to it".
Dalin briefly pauses, then adds "Or maybe even the palace itself" he follows that with "That's looking like the best chance to read his mind, and of his cousin the king" the elven spy then says in a dry tone "I doubt there's any other way concerning the king".
The mage Reinholt, who knows the city of Oaklynn fairly well. As it's the closest city to his homeland of Vexil. And he visited the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane quite often when he was young.
And repeatedly again, after he went into exile when he was just seventeen years old, which is more than eighteen years ago now.
Sourly smiles at hearing that from the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae.
"At least the regent actually goes out into the city, unlike the king" sourly says the spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
For in their time here in the city of Oaklynn during the autumn, they've yet to see the king of Girdane leave the palace.
And from what information they've gathered. Like the gossip Dalin has got from the young court official Larn, who is often drunk.
They've found out that king Jarnard the Second hardly ever, or that should be, rarely ever leaves the palace.
And when he does, it's always on official matters. And since that hardly ever comes along. He rarely makes his way from the palace.
"There's Shur Kee" says the spy Tanith when he spots the short, statured monk round the corner from the main street, and make his way towards the outdoor table the two of them are sitting at infront of a taverna.
"Something must be happening at the palace" says Shur Kee the monk when he gets to their table, and takes a seat.
"Oh?" says Mira Reinholt who shares a look with Dalinvardél Tanith.
Nodding his head, the physical adept who is originally from the otherside of the continent, the kingdom of Wah Lee to be exact, says "Yes, i saw quite a few people hurrying in through the gates" he continues with "Riders too".
Once again, the once powerful mage and the elven spy share a look. Then they get up, and head to the street corner.
Refraining from sighing, Shur Kee, who is an acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li, gets up too, and follows them.
At the corner, they look down the long street, where in the distance is the royal palace. They see riders in the king's army hurrying in through the open gates.
The mage Reinholt and the spy Tanith glance at one another, then the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands. Who in all likelihood, would of become a battlemage. Sometimes called a warmage or house mage many centuries ago.
Then quietly says to Dalin and Shur Kee "I think we should wander on down there".
The Vexilian swordmaster in exile quietly continues with "I should be able to find out what's happening".
Both the elven spy and the short, statured monk nod in agreement. Then the three of them, start making their way down the long street, heading for the palace of the king of Girdane.
"Read this" says Jarnard the second of his name, king of Girdane, who throws the parchment he's holding, at his cousin, lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn.
The regent of the capital city Oaklynn, takes a seat at the table in one of the meeting chambers in the royal palace.
While his cousin Jarnard, the king of Girdane, paces back and forth infront of a large fireplace, that has a fire burning in it.
Regent Sammis looks suitably shocked as he reads what's written on the parchment, even though he had a fair idea what it would be.
Then to make things look, and sound authentic, lord Sammis says in a tone of surprise "What the hell?".
From infront of the fireplace where he's pacing back and forth, the king of Girdane, Jarnard the Second grunts.
The regent of the city of Oaklynn looks over at his cousin, and asks him "Has this been confirmed?".
"It has" says king Jarnard the Second in an angry tone of voice as he briefly stops in his pacing.
He sets off pacing again, when his cousin Sammis the regent mutters "What the hell". Though on the inside, the regent of Oaklynn is laughing, and doing his utmost best to compose himself. And to not grin in glee, which is what he feels like doing.
After reading the message again, lord Sammis clears his throat, and his cousin the king looks his way.
"May i?" asks the regent of Oaklynn as he holds up the piece of parchment, as he nods over to where his advisor and general are standing with two of the king's advisors, and his senior military staff.
The king of Girdane says "My advisors will tell them what's happened" then Jarnard, second of his name, says "Leave us" to the others in the meeting chamber.
The advisors, and the military staff, from both the king's army and the regent's, bow to their king, before they make their way out of the chamber.
After the door shuts, the king of Girdane makes his way over to the table, and sits down at the head of it, and sighs.
"Why the hell would they start doing this?" asks lord Sammis with a shake of his head "And it's almost bloody winter too" adds the regent of the capital city.
"Who knows?" says king Jarnard who is tapping the fingers of his right hand upon the table top "Wiping out those we've sent to help those suffering from the plague, as well as their own villagers suffering from the plague" adds the king, who continues on with "Now they're attacking our supply wagons and troops, as well as messengers, including royal post riders!".
King Jarnard the Second is silent for a few moments before he says "What the hell are they thinking?".
"That's exactly the problem" says lord Sammis, who follows that with "They're not thinking" the regent of Oaklynn then mutters "The idiots".
His cousin the king of Girdane, nods in agreement, then he quietly says "Added with the reports that their armies are mobilising" followed by "And that they've got far more troops than we thought they were capable of having" he then adds after a moment's silence "It can only mean one thing".
"War" says lord Sammis with a nod of his head, who then silently adds, i bloody well hope so, I've spent years trying to get it to happen.
King Jarnard the Second nods, then he says to his cousin the regent "Well if they bloody well what their rebellion, they can have it" the king of Girdane continues with "And we'll damn well crush them for thinking they can take on the crown" he then adds in a mutter "Damn western upstarts".
His cousin, the regent of the capital city Oaklynn nods in agreement, then he quietly says "My forces are at your disposal cousin".
The king looks at his cousin, and after thinking about it for a few moments, Jarnard, second of his name says "Thank you Sam" he follows that with "But we best not" he continues on with "We'll do this by the laws of the kingdom, and have you and your forces stay out of this".
Lord Sammis looks like he's going to object, then he nods and says "Of course, you're right as usual cousin" the regent then silently adds in a gleeful tone, and that's how you do that.
The cousins, the regent of Oaklynn, and the king of Girdane. Look so similar, that they could be brothers instead of cousins. About five foot ten inches tall, with dark hair, and of thin build. Though as he's got older, lord Sammis has started to put weight on around the gut.
The cousins are five years apart, with the regent of Girdane, who is in his early forties, the older of the two.
And Sammis, who until he was five years old and Jarnard the Second was born. He was heir to the previous king, Jarnard the First of his name. The father of Jarnard the Second.
Something that Sammis has not forgotten since his childhood. Even though he didn't exactly know what it meant when he was so young.
But as he got older, he knew exactly what it meant. And over the years resentment started to grow, that he should of been king of Girdane, and not his younger cousin Jarnard the Second.
The resentment didn't actually blossom until Jarnard the Second was actually crowned king of Girdane. And Sammis, who at that time was now regent of Oaklynn, realised what could of been. How he could of been king instead of his younger cousin.
And in the years since, he's slowly built up a plan that will see himself as the king of Girdane. A grand design if you will. That's come into fruition in the last five years or so. And now is in full bloom.
Sammis, the regent of Oaklynn, who actually liked his younger cousin for the longest of time. Until their personal circumstances veered off in different directions.
With the king happily married, with two children, who are his heirs. While the regent of Oaklynn is on his third marriage, with no children and heirs. Nor bastards as well. Not from a lack of trying too.
And that resentment that's built up over the years on the part of lord Sammis, has turned into dislike of his cousin Jarnard the Second.
Though from outward appearances, the regent of Oaklynn, still acts if he's close and the best of friends with his cousin the king.
Looking at his younger cousin the king of Girdane, regent Sammis asks him "What do you plan to do?".
"Gather my army, and head out west" says king Jarnard the second of his name, who follows that with "And crush them before they come too far east".
The regent of Oaklynn nods, then asks "Are you going?".
"I am" says Jarnard the Second, king of Girdane, who continues on with "Best for appearances if i go, as the crown puts down this upstart rebellion from those western idiots".
And that's how i become king of Girdane, lord Sammis thinks to himself in satisfaction as his plans have finally worked out to be as successful as he thought they would be . . . . . .

A Grand Design 16.

Late Autumn. Western Girdane,

"How are they?" asks captain Kilmane "Fine" says the keeper Sarmac, who continues with "Better than some of the other groups, and no worse than others".
The captain in the regent of Oaklynn's army nods as they walk along the side of the hill after making their way through the rift created by the wizard Haric.
The captain looks back at the wizard, who is following behind them by about thirty yards, struggling to keep up, and falling further behind.
"That wizard is as useful as tits on a bull" mutters Sarmac the keeper who doesn't much care about the spellcaster in the regent's army who now works with them.
Captain Kilmane who doesn't particularly like the wizard either. Infact he never has, and as had little to do with him over the years since joining the regent's forces.
Nods his head in agreement with the unkempt keeper, who looks and gives the impression of being someone sloppy, but is far from it.
"Just as he long as he keeps on doing what he's told to do, that's all that matters" quietly says the captain who is one of the regent's most trusted officers, if not the most trusted.
The morning is cold and windy, and there's a bit of cloud cover here in this part of western Girdane after the last few days have been fine and clear.
The captain and the keeper in the army of regret Sammis continue along the side of the hill, until they to get to a dip between it and the next hill along.
They go down the dip to their right, which leads down to a dell, that has some woods and a stream running through it.
The wizard Haric continues to fall behind them, even though he's a younger man than either one of them.
Captain Kilmane sees a couple of the waagen at the edge of the woods. One is in their beast form, and the other human.
The beast is about six foot tall, with light grey fur, and a long, wolf like snout.
The one in human form, is a girl, about the age of ten. Who is sitting beside the waagen in beast form. On a rock, at the edge of the stream. Watching the water pass them by.
They all but ignore the captain and the keeper, until Sarmac calls out to them "Join the others!" followed by "We're leaving".
They gather in the dell, there's ten of them. With them is Grance, one of the waagen who helped turn them.
And as he was an adult when he became a waagen, he stands about six foot ten inches in height, and is far more muscular and bulkier than any of them.
And unlike them, he's pretty much always in his beast form. Hardly ever changing back to his human form.
Captain Kilmane looks at the gathered waagen, glad that they're under control. And are fairly much content with their lot.
From what Sarmac and the fully grown waagen Grance has told him. That they would of been totally uncontrollable if they had been adults.
For when they're first turned, waagen are unruly and unpredictable. Revelling in their new found strengths and abilities.
And adult humans, as only humans can be turned into waagen, or for that matter, werebeasts as well.
Are suddenly overcome with what they've become. Killing uncontrollably, and liking it.
It takes months, if not years to master what they're become.
Where as children, are willing to learn. Especially from an older and more experienced waagen. And they're easier to control, especially in groups. If they were by themselves, it would be different matter entirely.
Grance walks over to where the captain and keeper are waiting, and from his canine maw, he says "That fat fool taking his time again i see".
Captain Kilmane, who finds it quite easy to understand the waagen when they speak, as their voices are only slightly altered when they're in their beast forms.
Nods his head, and says to the hulking waagen who towers over him "He should be here soon".
"No good wizard" growls Grance, who along with two other waagen have turned the children that the regent's forces have captured here in the very west of the kingdom.
Well, those that have survived being turned. As the vast majority have been killed in the attempt.
As waagen are more than a little picky when it comes to those they want to turn into one of them.
The three of them, the captain, keeper and waagen, turn and look through the trees, and spot the wizard Haric heading in this direction.
Grance growls in disgust, then says "I'd eat him, but knowing that fat wizard, he'd probably give me an upset stomach".
The keeper Sarmac sniggers, while captain Kilmane grins.
The regent's captain when he first started working with the waagen.
Found it difficult to come to terms, that they as beasts, are exactly the same as when they're in human form.
Just that they've got a tendency towards extreme violence. And will eat just about anything. Just as long as it's meat.
It's the extreme violence part of their nature that's important to captain Kilmane. And more importantly, to his lord, the regent of Oaklynn, lord Sammis.
Who has set into motion his plans, that he's been working on for a number of years.
Captain Kilmane, who is privy to those plans, looks at the large waagen, who asks him "What's it this time?".
"Supply wagons from the capital" is the quiet reply from the regent's officer, who continues with "And a company of about fifty of the king's men" he then adds "They were spotted last night setting up camp, they should be well and truly on the road again now".
Grance nods his bulky head, then looks over at the ten young waagen waiting nearby, and says "This should be interesting" followed by "And a challenge".
Both the captain and keeper nod in agreement, then the large waagen says to them in a slightly sour tone of voice "Here's fatty" followed by "You better talk to him, i might bite him out of spite if i have to listen to him".
Then Grance turns and makes his way over to where the young waagen are standing, and waiting.
Breathing heavily as he walks up to them, the wizard Haric says "A moment captain" he wheezes a couple of breathes, before he adds "I have to get my breath back".
Captain Kilmane nods his head, while the keeper Sarmac arches an eyebrow as he looks at the portly spellcaster.
Then Sarmac, who like Grance, doesn't particularly care for the wizard. Wanders over to where the waagen are, for in his opinion, they're a hell of a lot better company than the overweight spellcaster in the ruby coloured robes.
After the heavyset wizard gets his breath back, the captain in the regent's army asks him "Ready?".
"I am" says Haric the wizard who nods his head "Go ahead" says captain Kilmane.
The spellcaster who like the captain is from the city of Oaklynn, nods again, then he steps to one side.
The army officer watches the portly wizard concentrating, and a few moments later multi coloured lights appear beside him to indicate that a rift is about to form.
And a couple moments later when it's formed, captain Kilmane calls out to the waiting waagen, and the keeper Sarmac "Let's go".
The captain is the first one through the rift, followed by Sarmac, then Grance who has to duck down to enter the magical doorway.
The fully grown adult waagen is followed by the the young waagen, who over the last couple of months have be turned into the creatures who are immune to magic.
They like Grance, ignore the wizard Haric as they go through the rift he's cast.
He's the last one to go through it, and a few moments later the rift vanishes. And the peaceful looking dell returns to normal, on this cold and windy day here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
They're on the otherside of a ridge line, keeping low on this cloudy and windy late autumn day.
Captain Kilmane may not necessarily like Haric the wizard. But at least the spellcaster does what he says he will. That is at least something in the opinion of the of the officer in the regent's army.
They've left the wizard behind, letting him catch up to them when he can.
Kilmane is in the lead followed by Sarmac, then Grance who like the young waagen following him, are on all fours most of the time as they keep low.
The captain in the lead looks along the ridge line, and spots some of his company he left in the area, just up ahead, behind a rocky outcrop on the ridge line.
When they get to them, the waagen including Grance keep back. As the captain and the keeper speak with the eight soldiers.
"Where are they?" quietly asks captain Kilmane, who nods when one of his men quietly replies with "Coming up the road, about a mile away now".
The soldiers, who were slightly worried their captain wasn't going to show up on time. All have bows and crossbows, and have been in his company for a number of years.
Kilmane moves along to one side of the outcrop, and looks away to the east. And in the distance, on the winding road that cuts through this part of western Girdane.
He spots a line of supply wagons that have traveled from the capital city Oaklynn. Along with a detachment of fifty soldiers in the king's army.
The captain watches them for a few moments, and is joined by the keeper Sarmac, who slightly nods when he sees those on the road in the distance.
"Bit different than attacking them in the isolated villages" quietly says the unkempt looking keeper, who wears a long leather vest, like one worn by a blacksmith's, over his armour.
"I know" quietly says captain Kilmane, who like Sarmac, and the men of his company, don't wear any uniform, badge or sigil identifying them as being in the army of the regent of Oaklynn, lord Sammis.
The captain looks back at the waagen, and waves Grance forward to join them next to the outcrop.
The small squad of soldiers, get out of the way of the large waagen, who bounds along on all fours to get next to the outcrop.
And after settling down on his haunches, Grance looks to the east to where captain Kilmane points, and spots the wagons and soldiers the king of Girdane has sent west.
"Think they can do it?" quietly asks the captain in the regent's army "They can" is the confident reply from the fully grown waagen, who continues with "They're the best of the lot".
The keeper Sarmac nods in agreement, then the captain murmurs "Good" he follows that with "What do you suggest?".
"Head straight down from this outcrop" says Grance, who before he was a waagen, was a farmer in the unruled lands to southwest of the kingdom of Girdane.
That was some two hundred years or so ago. Since being turned to a waagen, has given him lifespan similar to that of a non nobleborn elf.
"The road passes by here fairly close" adds the hulking waagen, who even sitting down is large "The horses might smell us since it's a windy day, but by the time they do, it'll be too late" continues Grance.
"I agree" says captain Kilmane, who then tells the waagen "Inform the others what they're to do" he follows that with "I need to speak to my men".
As Grance lopes back to speak to the other, much younger waagen. The captain in the army of the regent of Oaklynn speaks to the squad of eight archers.
"You're to not let any of those in the column to escape" quietly says Kilmane, who continues on with "Weather they're wagon driver, potboy, soldier or officer".
The captain briefly pauses, then adds "This might be difficult, you might recognise some of them, or even know them" he follows that with "But like I've told you before, we do the bidding of our lord, the regent Sammis. And what he orders us to do, we do".
His men, though silent, all nod. As they know what's expected of them. And besides, it's not as though they'll do all the dirty work so to speak. That will be up to the waagen, who after Grance speaks to them, they move up to be near the outcrop as well.
Captain Kilmane, the keeper Sarmac, and the small squad of archers lie down upon the ground to one side of the outcrop.
While the waagen gather behind the outcrop on this cloudy, cold and windy day here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
The waagen, who have enhanced senses. Far more powerful than they had when they were human beings.
Can hear the approaching column of wagons and riders down on the road, approaching from the east.
They wait in silence with the wind whipping along the ridge line the only sound of significance.
After a while, they all hear the sounds of horses from down on the road.
And a few moments later, Grance the waagen gets up off his haunches, and stands, he's only a bit shorter than the rocky outcrop he and the other waagen are behind.
He quietly murmurs something in the language of the waagen. Then he steps to the side of the outcrop. And with a sudden burst of speed, that no normal person could ever accomplish. He runs down the ridge.
He's followed by the young waagen, who before they were turned, were all children from villages and farmsteads here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
Captain Kilmane and the keeper Sarmac crawl forward, so that they look down the ridge to the road below.
They watch the waagen run, running faster than the fastest horse. They're only spotted by those in the column, less than thirty yards from the road.
Grance who is in the lead, when he's ten yards from the road, leaps forward roaring. And lands upon an officer in the king's army, who is on horseback.
The officer and his horse land upon the ground with a thud, landing right infront of a wagon. Which the driver is trying to bring to a halt.
Grance who has landed upon his feet, swing his right hand up, and his claws rip away half of the head of one of the two horses hauling the wagon.
As he does, the other waagen have hit the column that have travelled from the capital Oaklynn.
They too leap as they attack, crashing into horses, soldiers, and even wagons, creating havoc amongst the column.
As the attack gets underway down on the road, captain Kilmane gets up, and says to the archers from his company "Remember, don't let any of the king's men get away".
Then he along with the keeper Sarmac lead the way down the ridge towards the road, where the waagen are in the midst of slaughtering those in the column . . . . . .

A Grand Design 15.

Late Autumn. Falosen. Girdane.

Lisell Maera the messenger looks down at the remains of a child lying in the middle of the floor.
A boy, around the age of seven or eight, missing the lower half of his torso and his legs.
While away to the left, is the right arm of an adult. A woman's arm, most likely the boy's mother.
As lying out infront of the house, must be the father. Who is missing his head and left arm.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury turns as Tovis the war engineer enters the house, and asks "Anything?".
"Nothing" is the reply from Lisell Maera the messenger, who then asks the young engineer who is originally form the kingdom of Druvic "How long ago?".
"Arvelle says the day before yesterday" is the answer from Tovis who slightly pauses, before continuing with "Though Dorc did tell him ten, but he was holding up two fingers as he said that".
"It was two days ago" dryly says the messenger or runner as they're sometimes referred to.
Lisell Maera who more often than not, is just called Lis by the others in the group. Takes one more look at the body of the dead child. Then she turns and exits the house. The war engineer follows her.
Outside, the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands, after stepping away from the headless body infront of the house.
Looks around at the village, as it approaches twilight on this cold, but fine late autumn day, here in the north of the duchy of Falosen in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
Lis glances at Tovis who stands beside her, and quietly asks him "You notice it?".
"I did" says the war engineer, who once served in the army of a baron Harkonin in the kingdom of Druvic.
"Just like in the other village earlier today" adds the young engineer who is a captain in the armies of Farque "Not many dead children" continues the war engineer.
The messenger Maera who hopes they don't stay here the night, nods her head in agreement. Then she along with the war engineer look to their left. Where they see Larris the sorcerer walking towards them.
"Dorc has found their trail" says Larris the sorcerer, who was the second in command of the engineering corp Tovis led during the campaign in the very north of the kingdom of Nastell in the summer that's just gone by.
"And of the two scouts of duke Lombasil's who went after them, and didn't come back" adds the spellcaster who is a subaltern in the armies of Farque.
As they head through the village, Lis asks the sorcerer "Does the councillor intend to follow their trail into the night?".
"He does" replies Larris, who is young, around the same age as Tovis, in their early twenties.
"Figures" sourly says the attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, who doesn't fancy tramping off into the wilderness after those who attacked this village the day before yesterday.
As they make their way to where the others are gathering, the messenger asks the sorcerer "Do you know much about these waagen?".
"Only a little from what I've read" says Larris, who looks around as he adds "Unlike werebeasts, they retain their intelligence when they're in their beast form. And are able to think and talk like a normal person as they do so".
As they walk between a couple of houses, and go around a wood shed, the spellcasting subaltern continues with "A lot of them tend to stay in their beast form all the time. Which makes them especially dangerous".
As they spot the others gathered at the northern end of the village, the young sorcerer quietly says in a dry tone of voice "And the fact they're immune to magic, makes it even worse".
"Percy has fought them, and says they're a nuisance to vanquish" quietly says Tovis the war engineer.
"If he says they're a nuisance, it means they're difficult as fuck to kill" quietly says Lisell Maera.
"Dorc reckons they're a piece of piss to kill" quietly says the young engineer.
"He would" dryly says Lis who continues on with "He finds everything easy to kill".
They join the others at the edge of the village, and as the sun sets in the west, Arvelle Ganard the plainsman says "Lead the way Dorc".
Dorc da Orc, who of course has found himself some booze in the village. As he's holding a couple of clay fired jugs of ale. And is drinking from a bottle of wine. Grunts, then sets off. With the others following behind him.
The messenger Maera finds herself walking beside Arvelle the plainsman, who quietly says to her "Hopefully their trail doesn't end up in a dead end like at the other village".
Lisell Maera nods in agreement, as earlier today. When they were further east here in the north of the duchy of Falosen.
The tracks of the waagen they followed from a village there, suddenly disappeared in the woods behind the village. Which annoyed Dorc da Orc no end.
Now the tracks of the waagen here, along with two of duke Lombasil's scouts who never returned to the village and their squad.
Are fresher, and more recent. Making it much easier for the ork warleader to follow.
As they leave the farmland near the village behind them. They start heading into rougher terrain as night falls.
The cleric Beldane asks Arvelle Ganard if he should provide some light. The member of lord Farque's personal council declines. As one moon is already up in the early evening sky, and another, Ilnari is rising over the horizon to the east, on what's turning into a cold night here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
Up infront, the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, comes to a stop and grunts.
Councillor Ganard, and Lisell Maera move forward, and when they reach the large ork, who is busy sniffing, Arvelle the plainsman quietly asks the ork weaponsmith "What is it Dorc?".
"Peoples" grunts Dorc da Orc, whose head is tilted to one side as he continually sniffs, the warleader of the ork race who is a general in the armies of Farque, then adds "They dead".
Dorkindle, who gestures ahead to where some woods can just be made out by the others who lack his nightvision, continues with "Fucken in there".
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks breathes in deeply through his wide, flaring nostrils, then after grunting, and softly growling, he says "One of them cunts in there" followed by "A man doggy".
"Alive?" asks the tall plainsman with the shaved head, who in actuality is a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Arvelle Ganard.
"Nah cunt, it dead" says Dorc da Orc. Next to councillor Ganard, Lisell Maera breathes a sigh of relief. As she was not looking forward to encountering a waagen in the middle of some woods in the night.
The tall plainsman who is a former illegal wrecker, who plied his trade up on the Kaldel Plains. Nods his shaved head for the ork warleader to continue on his way.
Dorc da Orc grunts, and sets off after tossing away one of the clay jugs, that's now empty.
The rest of the group follow after the big, burly ork who is from the frozen bottom of the world.
In a few hundred yards, the large ork who is sniffing and listening, leads the way into the woods.
The trees aren't particularly thick or close, and there's large clearings within the woods. Which does go on for quite a bit. As the ork weaponsmith leads on for more than a mile, before he turns to the right. Goes for another thirty yards or so, then grunts when he comes to a stop.
"A little bit of light" says Arvelle Ganard, Larris the sorcerer obliges and casts a lightball, sending it up about twenty feet up, to illuminate the surrounding area.
"Well, there's one of the duke's men" says Lisell Maera who then adds in an extremely dry tone of voice "Well, what's left of him".
Bits of a body is strewn across the ground between a couple of the trees. The only clearly identifiable feature, is the right side of the torso, and the right leg.
"Where's the other one?" says Arvelle the plainsman who continues on with "Duke Lombasil said two of his scouts went missing".
Dorc da Orc points up and to the right. The rest of the group look to where he points.
And they see the body of the other scout in the duke of Falosen's army, hanging over a branch about twenty feet up.
This scout is more intact, with what looks like half of his throat missing, and some of his face.
After looking up at the body in the tree for a few moments, Arvelle the plainsman looks at the ork weaponsmith, and asks him "Where's the dead waagen?".
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then says "This fucken way".
With the lightball created by Larris the sorcerer following them, the large ork leads them by the tree with the dead scout up it.
And walks on for nearly another hundred yards or so, going across uneven ground between the trees. Before he finally stops at the base of a tree and growls.
Where lies a dead waagen, that's missing the right arm below the elbow. Has at least ten arrows, most of them broken off, sticking out of it. And is covered in multiple slashes and cuts through it's thick matted fur.
No one says anything for a little while, until the silence is broken by sir Percavelle Lé Dic saying "Hmmm it doth seem to be much smaller than those I've encountered in the past, wot".
Dorkindle grunts in agreement with his rival, the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
Arvelle aka Zubutai Timaginson who has encountered waagen once before. Over a dozen years ago, in a winter war between two nobles in the southern kingdom of Melaurn. Where he was still Zubutai the barbarian hordesman. Which incidentally was the last time that both the former earl of Lé Dic and the ork warleader fought waagens.
Crouches down and looks closely at the dead waagen, that's lying face down on the ground.
He sees that it isn't particularly tall, probably around the same height as Larris the sorcerer, who at five foot, ten inches tall. Is the shortest one of them here.
Nor is it as bulky or muscular as any waagen he's ever seen or fought against in the past.
The former illegal wrecker stands up, and looks at the ork general, and asks him "What do you think happened here?".
"This fuzzy cunt was left behind, he too fucked up to carry on" explains Dorkindle, who continues on with "And those two fuckers back there ran into him, and they have a scrap".
The large ork who can easily read what happened by the tracks and marks across the ground then says "Fuckface here killed them two scout cunts" he then adds "Not before that one ripped to fucken bits got in a killing blow".
The ork warleader steps forward and says "See" as he kicks the dead waagen, rolling it over. Revealing that there's a gaping whole in it's stomach, and that most of it guts and intestines are on the ground beside it.
"This lil' man doggy gots mads and tore that cunt back there a new asshole for cutting him open" says the big, burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world, who then adds "Then he came this fucken way with his tummy all open and leaking out, then he fall down here and fucken die".
Arvelle Ganard nods as that seems more than plausible, and infact knowing the ork warleader it's probably accurate.
The member of lord Farque's personal council is silent for a few moments as he looks down at the dead waagen.
Then the tall plainsman with the shaved head looks over at Larris the sorcerer and quietly asks him "Didn't you say they grow at an extraordinary rate just after they've been turned?".
Nodding his head, the subaltern in the armies of Farque says "So I've read" the spellcaster from the lands Farque continues with "In the first few weeks their rate of growth is phenomenal".
Larris as he looks at the corpse of the waagen, then says "Though you wouldn't guess it from looking at this one".
"I think it did" murmurs councillor Ganard in the hordes dialect from the southern tundra.
While behind him, Lisell Maera the messenger and Tovis the war engineer share a look after looking at the dead waagen, which is a lot smaller than what they've been told they usually are.
After one last look at the furry creature, with the vaguely canine like face and snout.
Arvelle the plainsman says to Dorc da Orc "Which way did the rest of them go?".
Gesturing in the direction it looks the dead waagen was trying to go, the ork weaponsmith says "That-a-way".
The former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains nods, then says to the large ork "Lead the way".
Dorkindle sets off, and the rest of the group follow him. With Larris keeping his lightball up above them, as they head through the woods with it's many clearings, on this cold, late autumn night here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
The ork warleader goes for another half a mile or so, until he suddenly stops, and growls.
"What is it?" quietly asks Arvelle aka Zubutai the son of Timaginson, as the large ork drops to his hands and knees, and looks closely at the ground.
"Fucken gone" says the general in the armies of Farque, the council member crouches down next to him, when he says "Fucken see".
Arvelle Ganard looks at what the ork weaponsmith points at, and the tall plainsman with the shaved head sees the tracks on the ground, from a number of waagen, that suddenly disappear.
"Magic" says the former illegal wrecker as he stands back up.
"A gateway" says Beldane the cleric "Or a portal, or a rift" adds Larris the sorcerer, as any one of those spells is what's likely to explain the waagen disappearing without further trace.
"They can't cast" quietly says the subaltern in the armies of Farque, Larris continues with "Since they're immune to magic, that also means they can't cast".
Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman nods, then he quietly says "Well we now know they've got a spellcaster working with them".
The member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, then turns and looks back in the direction they've come from, and after a few moments of silence, he says "And also know something else too".
"What's that?" asks Larris the sorcerer.
"All those missing children" says Arvelle Ganard, and as Lisell Maera and Tovis the war engineer share another look.
The tall plainsman with the shaved head continues with "We know what's happening to them" after a brief pause he adds "They're being turned into waagen" . . . . . .

A Grand Design 14.

Late Autumn. The Duchy Of Falosen. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

"We better be fucken here this time" loudly mutters Dorc da Orc as he looks back at Beldane the cleric before the large ork follows Arvelle Ganard the plainsman through the gateway.
The ork warleader grunts in satisfaction once he's through the gateway, and sees duke Lombasil's army, camped down in the valley below.
Beldane is the last of the group through the gateway, and drops his spell behind him once he's joined the others.
It's taken them three attempts to get here, as the duke of Falosen has moved his army a couple of times in the last two days.
And since Beldane can only create a gateway to somewhere he's been before, or somewhere he's seen. And he's only been here in the duchy of Falosen once before. In the middle of autumn when the group traveled throughout the very west of the kingdom of Girdane, to see the lay of the land. And to see how the locals were faring with the plague randomly hitting villages and farmsteads.
Finding duke Lombasil's army a month and a half after he was last here. Took a lot of luck on the part of the powerful cleric who hails from the kingdom of Nastell.
It's a short while later, and they're in the presence of duke Lombasil of Falosen. Standing with him and his advisors outside his command tent. On this cold and windy, but fine late autumn day here in the northwest of the kingdom of Girdane.
"You're wanted down south in Dalmar as soon as possible" says Arvelle Ganard the plainsman who continues with "Duke Korros and his army should be at the camp of duke Hilloc near the border with the duchy of Poldis sometime today or tomorrow".
Duke Lombasil of Falosen nods, then says "We'll head down as soon as we can" the tall, austere looking nobleman continues with "We're having some trouble up here" followed by "Another village was attacked and wiped out in the very north of my duchy yesterday or the day before".
"Any of the king's men there like the previous one?" asks the tall plainsman who is a former llegal wrecker. "There was" is the reply of the duke of Falosen.
The tall plainsman with the shaved head, who is not what he appears. As he's really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of the former illegal wrecker named Arvelle Ganard.
Nods his shaved head, then says "We're here to find out what's happening" as he gestures at the rest of the group standing nearby.
Who are garnering more than a few curious stares from some of the duke's soldiers. Especially Dorc da Orc who is getting gawked at.
As only duke Lombasil and his advisors, and his guards who were down in the town of Salme in the duchy of Dalmar, have seen the large ork previously.
The duke of Falosen nods in relief, as he doesn't know what's happening with these sudden random attacks upon villages in the remote parts of his duchy.
Settlements that have been affected by the plague, that the king's men and others from the capital Oaklynn, are in, trying to heal those still alive from the plague.
Are suddenly wiped out, with every man, woman and child. Wiped out by who knows what.
"Any of your own troops killed this time?" asks Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"Not at the village no" says duke Lombasil of Falosen who continues with "But the scouts who followed the tracks of those responsible for it, never returned to their squad who waited at the village".
The former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains nods his shaved head, then he looks over at Beldane the cleric and asks him "What do you need?".
"Someone who was at the villages" says Beldane the cleric, who then asks councillor Ganard "Which one?".
"Both" says the tall plainsman who continues with "I want to see both villages" as he knows who ever attacked and wiped them out could of been two sets of attackers.
Arvelle aka Zubutai Timaginson then looks at the duke of Falosen and says to him "I need some of your soldiers who were at these two villages recently" he gestures at the cleric in the church of Glaine and adds "The cleric needs to know where we're going" the member of lord Farque's personal council follows that with "And some maps of the areas those two villages are in would be handy too".
A little while later, nearing noon. And after Beldane the cleric has read the minds of some the duke's soldiers who have been to the two villages that have been attacked recently.
The group head away from the camp, which is now breaking down and packing up as duke Lombasil's army is now finally heading south to the duchy of Dalmar. To join his allies, duke Hilloc of Dalmar, and duke Korros of Girnath in their rebellion against the crown and king.
Up amongst the trees on one side of the valley, and Arvelle the plainsman brings the group to a stop, and says "Here will do".
"Which one do you want to go to first?" asks the fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell.
"The one attacked earlier in the week" is the reply of the tall plainsman who is really a hordes barbarian from the southern tundra "The one to the northeast" adds the member of lord Farque's personal council.
Beldane nods his head, then says "It's closer" followed by "And we went by there when we were up here earlier in the autumn".
Then the powerful spellcaster who is a member of the church of Glaine, who is now in the armies of Farque, casts a gateway.
Once it's formed, Lisell Maera the messenger is the first one through it. She's closely followed by sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Larris the sorcerer, then Tovis the war engineer, and Arvelle the plainsman.
Next through is Dorc da Orc, who is grumbling to himself in his native language, as he has to duck down again to go through one of the cleric's gateways.
Then finally Beldane himself goes through the magical doorway that he has cast.
Once he's through it and on the otherside, upon a rise a half a mile south of the village that was attacked earlier in the week.
The fighting cleric in the church of Glaine drops his spell behind him.
They set off towards the village after councillor Ganard asks "Dorc anyone around?" and the large ork replies with "Nope" after he's sniffed a few times.
They head towards the village knowing they have nothing to fear from the plague. As the magically created disease is only spread by the living who are infected with it. Once they die, so does the plague.
As they get closer to the village, sir Percavelle Lé Dic points out "Those doth attacked this place came from the woods on the otherside" the heavily armoured knight continues with "Very few of the dead are lying on this side wot".
Though he doesn't want to agree with his rival the former paladin. The ork warleader Dorc da Orc grunts in agreement with that assessment from the nobleborn knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic.
When Lisell Maera who is out infront, is the first to notice it when she stops beside the first dead body.
"No weapon killed him" says Lisell Maera the messenger as the others walk up to her, she points at the dead man, who is a soldier in duke Lombasil's army and adds "His arm was torn off" she continues with "And it looks like his throat was bitten out".
The attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, which lies on the coast of the Southlands, looks over at the ork warleader, and dryly says "It looks like something you'd do Dorc if you couldn't be bothered using one of your weapons".
The general in the armies of Farque chuckles, then nods and says "True" as he looks down at the dead soldier in the duke of Falosen's army.
Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman after looking at the dead soldier, says "Dorc, Beldane with me, we're going into the village" the member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque adds "The rest of you, circle around it and see what you can find".
While the others spread out and head around the village, the trio of Arvelle the plainsman, Beldane the cleric and Dorc da Orc enter the village.
And though the large ork does drool a little looking at the dead bodies that are scattered everywhere, he keeps himself under control, and doesn't have a quick munch on one.
"Any idea who did this Dorc?" quietly asks councillor Ganard, the ork warleader gives a noncommittal grunt in reply.
As he looks at the ground around one dead body, a priest or cleric by the looks of it. Though one can't be sure, as the limbs have been torn off, and the head is missing.
Dorkindle drops down to the ground and sniffs around the limbless body.
Beldane the cleric who has walked over to infront of a house, loudly mutters "Shit" as he looks down at another dead body. Also headless, though the other limbs are still intact.
"What is it?" asks Arvelle aka Zubutai the son of Timagin who has walked over to the powerful spellcaster originally from the kingdom of Nastell.
Pointing down at the headless corpse that's slowly corrupting in the cold weather of late autumn here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
Beldane the cleric says "He's a member of my church" the fighting cleric points at the surcoat covered in dried blood and adds "You can see the symbol of our god Glaine".
Arvelle Ganard, nods as he recognises it. As it's the same symbol Beldane has embossed on the steel breastplate of his armour, which he now wears covered by a thin layer of black leather. That has the sigil of the lands Farque stitched into it, in a different shade of black.
"Sorry" says the tall, shaven headed plainsman, the powerful cleric nods, then says a quiet prayer for his fellow church member.
Who he wonders if he knows. As the church of Glaine has only a small presence here in the kingdom of Girdane. In the capital of Oaklynn. Which Beldane visited when he was a younger man. Getting to know the church members there at the time.
Then the fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell, and the former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains. Turn and look at Dorc da Orc who grunts in satisfaction, then says "Over here ya bald fucken cunt".
"It's not bald, it's shaved" mutters councillor Ganard, who is rather sensitive to that. Which Beldane the cleric, and many of the others in the group have found out.
"Whatev's" says Dorkindle, which garners a grin from the member of the church of Glaine as he follows the tall plainsman back to where the ork general is on the ground next to the headless and limbless body out in the middle of the road that goes through the village, here in the northeast of the duchy of Falosen.
"What is it?" asks Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who the ork weaponsmith refers to as either Pretendy Zubu or bald cunt.
"Fucken there, there and there" says the big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world "Me can just see the tracks of the cunts" the warleader of the ork race then sourly adds "Must of had some nasty fucken rains here in the last two days and washed away the fucken marks".
The general in the armies of Farque then says "Three of the cunts ripped this cunt apart" as he gestures at the remains he's sitting next to.
Councillor Ganard nods his shaved head and takes the large ork's word for it. As the ork weaponsmith can see, not to mention smell anything that others will miss.
"You know who did it Dorc?" asks the former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains.
"Yep" is the reply from the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, who gets up off the ground.
"Who?" asks Arvelle Ganard as he looks down at what remains of someone, who it looks like was a priest or cleric.
"Man doggy" is the reply from Dorkindle.
"Er?" says the member of lord Farque's personal council who frowns.
While next to him, Beldane the cleric says "Huh?" as he has absolutely no idea what the large ork is going on about.
"Man doggy" says Dorkindle, who makes a growling face, puts up his hands, and makes a clawing motion with them.
Continuing frown for a few moments as he thinks about it, Arvelle Ganard eventually blinks in surprise then says "Werewolf?" followed by "You mean werewolves?".
The tall plainsman with the shaved head takes a step back as Dorc da Orc growls in a threatening manner, so much so that for a moment Beldane the cleric thinks the large ork might grab councillor Ganard and bite his face off.
"Not them cunts" says the ork weaponsmith in a growling voice.
Arvelle aka Zubutai Timaginson winces as he recalls the ork warleader is a member of the wolf tribe of orks who worships the wolf, as it's their spirit guide.
And that he absolutely loathes anything they see as a corruption of the wolf, such as werewolves.
"Sorry" quickly says the former illegal wrecker who hails from the Kaldel Plains.
"Good" grunts Dorkindle who then adds "You fucken better be".
Then after the tall plainsman nods, the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world says "Not those cunts, but them fuckers a bit like them" followed by "You know, man doggy".
Councillor Ganard frowns again, though not for long, for after he blinks in surprise as he realises what the ork weaponsmith means.
"Waagen?" says Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who gestures all around them, then adds "Waagen did this?".
"Yep" says the warleader of the ork race, who continues with "A bunch of them cunts".
"How many do you think?" asks the former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains.
"At least four of the fuckers" is the reply of Dorkindle who holds up ten fingers.
Arvelle the plainsman sourly smiles and rolls his eyes, while Beldane the cleric grins at the ork weaponsmith's ability, or inability to count.
The member of lord Farque's personal council then asks the large ork "More than four you think?".
"Probs" says the ork weaponsmith, who is looking around sniffing, while continuing to hold up ten fingers.
"Hell" mutters the tall plainsman with the shaved head, who then silently adds, i never knew they were in groups that large.
As Arvelle aka Zubutai the son of Timagin has never heard of waagen being in groups of more than ten, as Dorc da Orc suggests as many as that attacked this village.
They're usually found in pairs, or in a trio. Unlike werebeasts, who are solitary.
"Not very big too" says the ork general, who points down at the headless and limbless body they're standing next to, and adds "They not that big, the three fuckers who killed this silly cunt".
The ork warleader gestures at Beldane the cleric, and says "Not even as tall as you cunt".
Both the fighting cleric and the member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque frown.
Then Arvelle Ganard says "Aren't they usually bigger than me?" he follows with "Say around lord Farque's height and even bigger?".
Shrugging his massive shoulders, Dorc da Orc says "Not the cunts who were here".
"That doesn't make sense" murmurs Arvelle aka Zubutai the son of Timagin in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra, who then silently adds, i wonder what it could mean?
Then councillor Ganard says to the ork weaponsmith and the member of the church of Glaine "Come on let's get the others" he continues on with "And see where this lot who did this went to".
The former illegal wrecker from the Kaldel Plains then adds "Then we'll check out the other village that was attacked".
Which the tall plainsman with the shaved head suspects was also attacked by waagen . . . . . .

A Grand Design 13.

Late Autumn. In The West Of The Kingdom Of Girdane.

A squad of duke Lombasil's men ride up to the top of a rise, and stop where one of their scouts is waiting for them.
They look to where the scout points, and in the distance on this cold, but clear late autumn day.
They see a village near some woods, here in the northeast of their duchy of Falosen.
A plague flag is flying from a pole on top of a roof in the middle of the village. Which isn't that much of a surprise. But what is surprising. Is who is in the village in the distance.
For even from where they are on top of a rise nearly half mile south of the village. They can see the soldiers in and around the village. Soldiers in the army of the king of Girdane.
What's even more surprising, is who is with the king's soldiers.
They can see priests, clerics, nuns and monks from various churches and temples with them.
Going in and out of houses, as well as doing chores throughout the village.
But what's most surprising of all, is that the king's soldiers. Many of whom look like they're on guard duty. Stopping anyone from getting close to the village.
Have spotted the squad of duke Lombasil's men upon the rise to the south of the village.
And they're not doing anything about them. Just occasionally looking in their direction. But for the most part, they're ignoring them.
The squad leader shares a look with the scout. Who lifts his eyebrows in a questioning manner, then shrugs his shoulders.
The squad leader rubs his chin as he thinks about what they've seen. Then he makes a decision.
He orders them around, and back to camp. Where he'll do what the lower ranks have done for ages in armies across the world of Volunell.
He'll pass this information on to someone of a higher rank and let them come up with a decision.
And when their squad does get back to camp. They find out they're not the only squads here in the duchy of Falosen. As well as in the duchies of Girnath and Dalmar.
To come across the king's army, who have ignored them, and instead are going about with what looks like the healing, and stopping the spread of the plague that's hit the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
That very night, they come through the woods, approaching the same village that duke Lombasil's men watched from a rise a half mile to the south of it.
They move in near silence, even those who have grown expeditiously more than some of the others over the last few weeks.
And though nearly all of them are young, except for the one leading them. They know what to do, as they move quickly and with stealth towards the village.
Those of the king's soldiers on guard duty near the woods are struck down without knowing what's hit them. As the smallest and quickest of them are the first to strike the king's men.
Then they, and the others, rush into the village, and the slaughter begins.
Soldiers, officers, nuns, monks, priests and clerics are all struck down. So are the villagers. Those who are recovering from the plague. As well as those who have recovered, and are now healthy. Men, women and children. They're all killed as they go on a killing spree.
Soldiers try to fight back, and though they wound their attackers. They're unable to stop them.
As are those clerics and healers with spellcasting abilities. For though they try to fight with their magic. They find that their attackers are immune to direct magic.
Though they learn that too late. And are killed as they try to cast again, wondering why their spells aren't working against those who have attacked them this cold, late autumn night. Here in the northeast of the duchy of Falosen.
As quickly as it began, it's over. And after killing everyone in the village. They move off, heading back through the woods, to disappear into the night. Just as quickly and easily as they appeared.
It's not the first time they've done this, and it definitely won't be the last.
For they are the unknown factor, in what appears to be a revolt by the three western most duchies in the kingdom of Girdane against the crown and king.
The next morning, and the squad of duke Lombasil's men return to the rise half a mile south of the village.
Though this time with them, is a sergeant at arms, as well as an officer.
And what they see this morning. Is completely different to what they saw yesterday.
For at a distance they can see the bodies strewn in and around the village. King's soldiers, lie next to priests and monks. Villagers next to clerics and nuns. Even from on top of the rise a half a mile south of the village. Everyone looks to be dead.
The officer takes one look at the village, and has two of the squad return to camp to inform them what's happened.
Then he and the rest the squad ride down to village, to get a better look at what's happened.
Not knowing that they too will soon all be dead like those in the village. For waiting in the nearby woods are those who attacked the village last night.
And a squad of a dozen of duke Lombasil's men are no match for them.
Three days later, and in the duchy of Dalmar. Tamric Drubine the field commander looks over at the duke's command tent where a messenger has just ridden into camp, and dismounted infront of it.
From the sigil, or coat of arms on the messenger's uniform. He's from the duchy of Falosen, one of duke Lombasil's men.
"Most likely more reports of unusual happenings" quietly says the avenger sir Kamson who has quietly walked up beside the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Looking at the tall, heavily armoured officer in the armies of Farque who arrived at the beginning of the week with the bulk of the army from the lands Farque.
Tamric Drubine the field commander asks "You think so?". "Of course" says the avenger who is originally from the southern kingdom of Melaurn "That's pretty much every message that comes into camp now" adds the officer, who was formerly in the order of the Knights of the Dark.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, can't help but agree with the avenger. Who though older than him by more than a decade. Is one of his subordinates.
Then the young field commander in the armies of Farque quietly says in the elven language "You're right" followed by "Especially from up in the duchy of Falosen".
The former knight, nods his head in agreement, then quietly says in the same language to his field commander "We'll never head east if we keep stopping, to try and figure out every strange occurrence that's happened" sir Kamson pauses, before continuing on with "Though, you'd have to admit, there's been some pretty strange ones for sure".
Once again the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin is in agreement with one of his officers as they stand outside the field commander's own tent.
Then Tam waves over a runner, and quietly says to her "Inform our lord and his councillors that another messenger from the duchy of Falosen has ridden into camp".
The messenger nods, and hurries off to inform lord Farque and the councillors, prince Helbenthril Raendril and Arvelle Ganard the plainsman.
"Come on, let's go and find out what's happened this time" quietly says field commander Drubine to sir Kamson the avenger.
And as they walk over to duke Hilloc's command tent, Tamric Drubine looks around and spots the sorcerer Larris. The nobleborn teen who is the son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin. Waves to the spellcaster to join him and sir Kamson.
The sorcerer in the armies of Farque, who was formerly in one of the engineering corps, joins the young field commander and the avenger.
The army from the lands Farque started arriving in the duchy of Dalmar in western Girdane last week. With the bulk of them arriving at the start of this week.
Only a small number of those who took part in the campaign between the robber barons of the unruled lands to the north of the kingdom of Nastell, and duke Hargen of Phelm, during the summer in the duchy of Phelm in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Have come north with this army from the lands Farque. Larris the sorcerer being one of them.
As the undead warlord wants more of his armies to take part in campaigns outside of his lands. Now that he has decided to hire them out to those who are willing to pay for their services.
There's nearly ten thousand of them from the lands Farque, here now in the duchy of Dalmar, in western Girdane.
A mercenary army that's brought the numbers up for the dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen. In their revolt against the crown and king.
So that they're now almost equal in numbers to the size of the army that the king of Girdane can field against them.
After listening to what the messenger says, lord Farque nods then dismisses her. Then the undead warlord looks over at two of his councilors, Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman.
"Might as well see what's happened this time" says lord Farque, then the three of them exit the heavily armoured deathlord's tent, which is in the middle of their army.
Their camp is two days ride to the east of the town of Salme, still in the duchy of Dalmar Though close to the border with the duchy of Poldis, the closest duchy to the east of the duchy of Dalmar.
The mercenary army from the lands Farque are camped to one side of a hill, while the army, predominantly made up of duke Hilloc's army, and those of his vassals here in Dalmar. Are camped on the otherside of the hill.
The heavily armoured deathlord, along with the elven magic user, and the plainsman who is a former illegal wrecker. Make their way up the hill to where field commander Drubine has his command tent.
As they head uphill, those in the army from the lands Farque. Stop and bow to their lord as he passes by.
The lord of the lands Farque acknowledges every single one with a slight nod of his full helmed head when they bow to him.
When they get to the top of the hill where Tamric Drubine has his command tent. They cross over to where duke Hilloc has his own command tent.
Which they enter when the duke's guards step aside for the three of them. And inside, they find the avenger sir Kamson and the sorcerer Larris are with their young field commander.
While duke Hilloc has a number of his advisors and officers with him. Including his older cousin, sir Passic.
"What is it this time?" quietly asks lord Farque in a murmur in the royal elven language.
Helbe the elven thief who when they stepped into the tent, read the mind of the messenger from duke Lombasil's army, who duke Hilloc and his cousin sir Passic are deep in conversation with.
Quietly informs the lord of the death realm in the same language. That a village affected by the plague in the northeast of the duchy of Falosen. That was being treated by the king's soldiers, and those they've brought out west with them. Have been wiped out. By who? Nobody knows.
All the villagers, as well as everyone from the capital who were in the village were killed. Along with a small squad of duke Lombasil's soldiers. Who checked on the village the day following the attack.
"Now that is odd" murmurs lord Farque, or Draugadrottin as he's also know by to the people of his lands.
Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head in agreement, and quietly says in the language of the elven royalty "The first time they've been wiped out as well as any of the local soldiers". As up until now, it's only been one side or the other. And not both.
The heavily armoured deathlord nods his full helmed head, and the three of them go and stand beside the young field commander Drubine, along with sir Kamson the avenger, and Larris the sorcerer.
"Have they told you what's happened?" quietly asks lord Farque, who also has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
"Briefly" replies Tamric Drubine, who like the undead warlord, quietly speaks in the elven language.
"What are we going to do?" quietly adds the nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"What do you suggest?" asks the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who is letting the senior officers, such as the young field commander, make most of the decisions in the campaign so far. Not that there's been much of a campaign to speak of.
"We should probably check it out" says Tamric Drubine, who continues with "Though we don't want to waste anymore time" he briefly pauses before he adds "Which we've done already" the young field commander then says "Don't really want to send any of our army up there".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, then quietly says "Correct".
"You want me to go up there and check things out?" asks Helbe the elven thief.
The deathlord of Farque shakes his head no, and says "Best you remain here".
Then after glancing at his other councillor, the tall plainsman with the shaved head, the lord of the death realm says to him "You and the rest of the group go up to Falosen and see what's happening".
Des'tier continues with "See if there's any link to the other odd occurrences that have popped up".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then adds "Besides, it's best you got going, Hilloc has been asking questions about why spending all your time down here, and why you haven't gone back north to the Kaldel Plains".
Arvelle Ganard the plainsman nods, then quietly says "I'll go and inform the others" the former illegal wrecker then asks "Should we take anyone else with us?".
Realising that the group will have only one spellcaster, that being Beldane the cleric.
The undead being says "Larris go with councillor Ganard and the others".
"Yes my lord" says Larris the sorcerer, who is a subaltern in the armies of Farque.
"Travel quickly" says Draugadrottin to Arvelle the plainsman, who nods his shaved head, then along with Larris the sorcerer, they make their way out of duke Hilloc's tent, and go and find the rest of the group.
"Implore upon the duke that the more time we waste here doing nothing, the more he has and his allies have to pay us" quietly says the undead warlord to the young field commander.
The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin nods his head, then he quietly says "The start of this rebellion is a little odd to say the least".
Lord Farque, Helbe the elven thief, and sir Kamson the avenger all nod in agreement to that.
For the armies of the dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen have encountered the king's forces who have come out here to the very west of the kingdom. But they've yet to engage in battle with any of them.
For the simple reason the king's soldiers haven't come out here to fight. They're out here in the very west of Girdane to stop the plague, and heal those who have been affected by it.
Bringing scores of healers from various churches and temples along with them, to help accomplish this task.
And even though they know the dukes Hilloc, Korros and Lombasil have gathered their armies, and are preparing to push east in an attempt to rebel against the crown.
For now, they're doing nothing to prevent them starting their revolution.
Duke Hilloc of Dalmar along with his cousin sir Passic the knight finish speaking with the messenger from the duchy of Falosen.
And field commander Tamric Drubine and sir Kamson the avenger of the armies of Farque, step forward to speak with them.
While lord Farque and Helbe the elven thief after sharing a look remain near the door of the command tent, watching and listening to the discussion now taking place here in the command tent of duke Hilloc . . . . . .