To War 59.

Summer. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

"There they are" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as he points away to the southwest.
Next to him onboard the Farqian warship the Mountain Dawn, Mira Reinholt the mage looks through his leather wrapped, brass cylindrical eyepiece.
And nods his hooded head when he spots what the elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae has pointed out.
"That them?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit who has just come up on deck and joined them.
"That's them" is the reply of Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
"Best we get them into action, so that they feel like they're contributing" quietly says the halfling who isn't actually what he appears to be.
"Especially the baron, who suddenly finds himself fighting for his brother now" adds the hobbit, who like the mage Reinholt, is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"When a little less than two weeks ago, they were at war with one another" continues Jarjin Littlefoot, who in actual fact is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, by the name of Zubutai Timaginson.
Who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of the halfling who is from the far east coast of the continent.
The Mountain Dawn puts down near a road that goes through some farmland here in the north of the province of Corlinda.
While overhead, flies the Quick Gull. The small, single masted airship that's from Sultanate of Dreese. The nation on the far east coast of the continent that Jarjin Littlefoot is originally from.
After the Farqian warship puts down, Helbe the elven thief appears on deck, and says "They're ready for action".
As he nods his hooded head at the combined army of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
The former from the province of Karricaw. And the latter from here in the province of Corlinda.
Looking at the army that the twin brothers Gormica and Wilmot have assembled.
Mira Reinholt says to his fellow council member the elven masterthief who has traveled with the twin brothers "They'll get plenty of action soon enough".
The once powerful mage continues on with "The king's forces and those of his allies are coming down out of Moleau in significant numbers now".
The spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil, his homeland that he's in exile from, then adds "Some are coming this way".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel looks at Dalinvardèl Tanith and Jarjin Littlefoot.
Both of whom nod in agreement with the spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he lost the vast majority of his powers when he went offworld after accidentally casting a rift/void spell he went through. When he and other members of the group were on a sailing ship, out on the Great Western Ocean.
"Farque wants them involved" quietly says the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
"They will be" says the mage who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
Who takes out a map, as does the spy Tanith. And the two of them open them up, and put them down on the deck. And the four of them crouch down here on the aft deck of the warship. Where the officers and crew give them a wide birth.
"We wiped out a force of their's here, where they crossed over into Corlinda" says the Vexilian mage in exile pointing at the map he's opened up, and put on the deck.
"And there's more of them coming down out of Moleau, here, here and here" adds the mage Reinholt, who continues on with "We got word there's a large force of them away to the east, where Moleau and Corlinda border Mofosild".
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster then says "Tam's force is dealing to them".
The highly talented elven magic user nods his hooded head when he hears that.
Then the young elven noble who is part of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel, points at the map that Dalin opened up, and he says "That lot from down in Selvah Na have left Corlinda and gone into Romial".
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, who is the envoy for the armies of Farque.
The one who directly deals with whoever it is that's hired one of the Farqian mercenary armies.
Continues on with "They'll come back east into southern Moleau, and hit this lot here". As he points at the mage Reinholt's map, showing where the various enemy forces are.
With a nod of his head at the armies from the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw, Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman says "We could take them further west, so they can help that lot from Selvah Na out".
"Maybe" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who may not be a member of the personal council to lord Farque like the other three are.
He still has a say in what they plan and do. Even though he's only a company commander, in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"I think that lot from down in Selvah Na could benefit from a battle on their own against the enemy" adds the spy Tanith who continues with "After all, they hate the crown and king, a hell of a lot more than either lord Gormica and baron Wilmot".
"I agree" says prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel, who follows that up with "Some of ours are there with them, and can keep an eye on them".
The elven master assassin continues with "And this lot could do with some stiffening up with little in the way of help from us too". As he nods his hooded head at the armies from Corlinda and Karricaw in the farm fields near where the Mountain Dawn has put down.
The practitioner of magic from the elven principality of Laerel then points at the smaller of the two maps, and says "Either this one, or this one would probably be best for our purposes".
"I suggest this one then" says Mira Reinholt the mage.
"I agree" adds Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit.
Dalinvardèl Tanith nods his hooded head in agreement with the halfling, and the human spellcaster.
With an eyebrow raised, Helbe the elven thief looks at the Vexilian mage in exile, who tells him "It's an army of similar size as the twins".
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found throughout the Southlands, briefly pauses before he adds "And it's an army from the capital, so they're the king's own men".
The elven princeling is silent for a few moments, then he nods his hooded head, and quietly says "That would be for the best".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel studies the maps for a few moments, then he says "Think i better go and have a look at them".
Pointing up at the Quick Gull, that's circling up above, Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson says "Beldane can take you" followed by "He knows where they are".
"And he can get me there and back again fairly quickly" says the highly talented elven magic user.
Who stands, as do the other three, with Mira Reinholt and Dalinvardèl Tanith folding up their maps.
The elven master archer looks at his fellow councilors, the halfling former air sailor, and the human mage and tells them "You get to keep an eye on them".
With a nod of his hooded head at the nearby armies from Corlinda and Karricaw.
"The brothers are being civil with one another at the moment" continues the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel, who follows that with "See if you can keep it that way while I'm gone".
The elven masterthief grins then chuckles as first the mage Reinholt sourly smiles, then Jarjin aka Zubutai rolls his eyes.
Then Helbe the elven thief disappears. After he does, the two councilors Mira Reinholt the mage and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit share a look.
Then the two of them look at the combined army of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
"Bags not me" quickly says the Vexilian mage in exile.
"Fuck" mutters the halfling who is from the far east coast of the kingdom.
Who sighs, as he looks at the army waiting nearby on this warm summer day, here in the north of the province of Corlinda.
Meanwhile, up onboard the Quick Gull. The small, sleek, single masted airship that was originally in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese.
Helbe the elven thief says "Do you know where that lot is?".
"I do" says Beldane the cleric, who after a brief pause adds "Well i should at least know where they're going".
Nodding his hooded head, the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel says "Good enough".
The highly talented elven magic user then adds "Let's head there" followed by "I want to look at them".
They're in the captain's cabin of the Quick Gull. And the cleric who hails from the kingdom of Nastell casts a gateway spell. The clerical equivalent to a rift.
It forms just a few moments later, and the elven master assassin goes through the black gateway first.
Followed by the powerful spellcaster who is a member of the church of Glaine.
A god predominantly worshiped in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
After Beldane steps through his gateway, he drops the spell behind him. Then he points away to the hills to their right.
The young elven noble nods his hooded head, then he disappears when he shifts.
The fighting cleric follows him, using the slower teleport spell. As the two of them head to the hills about a half a mile away.
Amongst some trees up on top of one of the hills, the elven princeling quietly says "I see them".
When the cleric in the church of Glaine points northwards at the king's army that's come south from the province of Moleau, and crossed the border into the province of Corlinda.
"A bit more than the twins army" murmurs the elven master archer who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The elf who is a member of the royal family that rules the elven principality of Laerel, then asks his fellow spellcaster "How far did you bring us exactly?".
"Just under forty miles, west and north" is the reply of the practitioner of magic who hails from the kingdom of Nastell.
The only member of the group that travels with lord Farque, who has yet to step foot into the lands of Farque.
Councilor Raendril nods his hooded head as he continues to watch the enemy army. That's come from the capital city Calinar. Which is in the province of the same name.
The elven envoy points away to further north of the king's own army, and he adds "They've got air support too".
"They're willing to risk their warships against us" says the fighting cleric in the halfplate armour.
"That's a mistake on their part" says prince Helbenthril Raendril as the Farqian fleet with the first army of Farque.
Is far superior to any warship fighting for or on behalf of the crown and king of Melaurn.
It's the one thing that's making the war between lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and the king of Melaurn an even contest.
As the crown's forces easily outnumber what the Karricawian nobleman, lord Gormica has fighting for him.
As he watches the enemy army on the road that's come south from the province of Moleau, Helbe the elven thief says to his fellow spellcaster "What do you think?".
"Even if we eliminate their airships, i think it'll still be fairly tough going" replies the powerful practitioner of magic, who continues with "The king's own have proven to be a hell of a lot tougher than the allies the crown has called to arms".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head in agreement, then he quietly says "You're right".
Then after a brief pause, the highly talented elven magic user adds "Still, it might do the twins some good to face a challenge like this".
The member of the church of Glaine nods in agreement. Then the elven master assassin says to him "Let's head back".
The two of them disappear as they make their way back down into the dell a half a mile away where Beldane the cleric had his gateway.
Once there, the fighting cleric creates another one, the otherside of which is in the captain's cabin of the Quick Gull, about forty miles away to the south and east.
The elven magic user goes through first, followed by the powerful cleric. Who once he's through, and in the captain's cabin of the Quick Gull, drops his spell behind him.
"Time to make some plans" says Helbe the elven thief to Beldane the cleric.
"Because this is going to be important" quietly adds the elven princeling from Laerel . . . . . .

To War 58.

Summer. The Kingdom Of Melaurn. In The Province Of Corlinda.

From on top of the hill, Tamric Drubine the field commander looks down at the battle taking place below.
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin who has mostly been watching the battle on the right flank of his army, where the fighting has been heaviest.
Looks down at the left flank, closest to the hill that he and his command staff are up, watching things.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque looks down at the goblin battalion.
And sees the large, heavily armoured figure of sir Percavelle Lé Dic amongst their front ranks.
With plenty of the enemy dead on the ground near him. Not to mention a number of dead horses belonging to the enemy.
The son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Looks over at Dorc da Orc who is standing nearby. The ork general is scowling as he watches his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic amongst the battalion the large ork leads.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well just shakes his head.
Then he goes back to watching the left flank of the Farqian mercenary army he is in command of.
Field commander Drubine looks amongst the goblin battalion down on the left flank, specifically searching for someone.
Tam who has spotted Teabagger the Goblin Cunt, the small, bright, green goblin who commands the battalion.
Nods his head as he sees that Teabagger who is still alive and well, and is admirably commanding the battalion of goblins in the armies of Farque.
Then the young field commander spots who he's been looking for, Shur Kee the monk.
It seems the short, statured monk who is looking over an injured goblin. Hasn't been involved in any of the fighting yet.
A sure sign to field commander Drubine that things along the left flank. Especially amongst the goblin ranks is fairly stable as they repel enemy attack after enemy attack.
After watching Shur Kee have a couple of goblins carry away the injured goblin he's just looked over.
The nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Who is in command of about a third of the first army of Farque.
Who are here in the kingdom of Melaurn, fighting for lord Gormica of Salmah Forest. In his war against the crown and king of Melaurn.
Glances at his lover Saanea the witch standing next to him, who quietly says "Dargarven is going through their ranks again".
The spellcaster from the Maldin Hills, who is standing there with her eyes closed, looking through the eyes of her familiar that's flying over the battle.
Then quietly says to the young field commander who is her lover "Off the road on this side" followed by "In the midst of their center ranks".
Tamric Drubine slightly nods, then looks back at the undead heavy foot trooper Arveem who quietly says "He's making his way to one of their spellcasters".
The young field commander nods his head in understanding, then after looking at the battle near the center of the Farqian lines, he turns to his subcommander.
"Have one of the reserve cavalry companies in our middle ranks go through and attack the enemy" orders Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"Yes commander" says the subcommander, who walks over to the signalmen, and has a word with them.
Field commander Drubine's latest order is signaled by flag to the Farqian army down below, and they're undertaken in no time.
As one of the cavalry companies goes through the middle ranks of the battlelines of the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Then ride at the enemy, who are making another charge at that area of the lines of the army led by Tamric Drubine the field commander.
Dargarven the undead scout kicks an enemy soldier in the back. Propelling the man forward at speed, to crash into a number of the others in the enemy forces.
The undead being who is making his way back towards the battlelines of the Farqian army.
Simply by going through the enemy ranks who are attacking the army from the lands Farque.
Who this summer, are here in the kingdom of Melaurn. Fighting on behalf of the nobleman from the province of Karricaw.
Lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, who is in a war against the crown and king of Melaurn.
Backhands an enemy soldier who attempts to grab him. The man slams backwards into another soldier in the crown's forces. Who are battling the Farqian army under the command of Tamric Drubine.
Dargarven who is heading towards someone in particular, looks ahead and sees a cavalry company come riding from the battlelines of the mercenary army from the lands Farque. Heading more or less in this direction.
Dargarven who wears leather armour, a leather, sleeveless vest to be exact. But a full steel helm, a deep burnished one that's almost copper in colour.
Slightly nods his head, as that should keep the enemy he's making his way through. Quite busy for the next little while.
The undead scout who has a killed a cleric amongst the enemy. Who was the most powerful of the spellcasters with this particular army of the king of Melaurn.
Almost disappears from view as he suddenly picks up speed.
Dargarven who died four and a half centuries ago, the same day his older brother Arveem died. Which was the same day their lord died too.
Is a dark blur as his short, threadbare, and frankly tatty cloak whips out behind him, as he moves at speed through the enemy ranks.
Who are charging the middle ranks of the Farqian army that Tamric Drubine commands.
Behind his full helm, Dargarven sourly smiles as he sees a ball of fire leave the enemy ranks towards the Farqian battlelines.
It like everything else around the undead scout is moving slowly at the moment.
And though Dargarven can't move at the speed of his lord. He and the rest of the undead from the lands Farque can still move quickly enough when they want to. So that others around them are unable to see them.
The enemy soldiers he's going through, just see a black blur go by. Not too sure what they're seeing.
Dargarven doesn't bother killing any of them at the moment. He's just got one target.
And in just a few heartbeats, the undead scout is where his intended target is.
The sorcerer who just cast a fireball at the middle of the Farqian battlelines.
Drops dead to the ground after Dargarven punches him in the back of the neck. Snapping his spine and killing him instantly.
His spell disappears too, as it immediately dropped* with his death. The undead scout briefly looks down at the dead sorcerer.
Then he continues on his way. Moving at a more normal pace as he heads through the enemy ranks and makes his way back to the Farqian battlelines.
Up on the hill, from where he and his command staff are observing the battle.
Tamric Drubine the field commander sees the fireball that was heading towards the center ranks of his army suddenly disappear.
The young field commander who leads about a third of the first army of Farque here in this war between the king of Melaurn, and lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
Glances at his lover Saanea the witch to ask her what just happen.
When he hears from behind them, Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper say "Dargarven just killed one of their spellcasters".
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin nods in understanding.
Then Tam looks away to his left, as Lisell Maera the scout walks up beside him and Saanea.
"We're holding, even over on the right flank" says Tamric Drubine the field commander in response to Lisell Maera the scout asking him "How's it going?".
"You sound surprised" says the tall, lean and athletic, not to mention attractive young woman who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, who now serves in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"I am a little" says Tam, who continues with "I was expecting our right flank would have to fold on towards the center".
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group nods, then says "Maybe this lot just aren't that good". As she gestures at the enemy army.
The scout continues on with "They are allies to the king, not his actual army from the capital after all".
Field commander Drubine nods, then says "That might be so" before adding "But i was expecting more from them".
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands nods, then she along with Tamric Drubine look over at Dorc da Orc who has just grunted loudly.
The young field commander asks the ork warleader "What is it Dorc?".
The large ork who hasn't taken his eyes off the battle at all. In particular the fighting that his goblin battalion are in.
Turns his head and looks at the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin who leads the Farqian mercenary army.
"We gots to pull the fuck back in the middle" says Dorc da Orc.
Field commander Drubine frowns as he quickly looks at the battle, before looking at the ork general, and asking him "Why?".
"Cause Dorc fucken says so, that's fucken why" mutters the ork weaponsmith.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts then with his hands, explains why the center of the Farqian battlelines should pull back.
"See them cunts over there, by the fucken road" says Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name.
Which no one actually calls him by, apart from lord Farque every once and a while.
"What about it?" asks the son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine. A castle and it's lands found in the north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
"They not all attack us" says the warleader of the ork race, who continues on with "Too many of the fucken cunts there to attack us at that end" followed by "That's why they all fucken bunched up there".
Tam nods in understanding, as where the fighting is heaviest. Along the right flank of the army he commands.
Not all of them enemy can attack his army at once. Unlike the middle and left flank, where the enemy are more spread out, and not that bunched up.
"That side of our fucken army could fucken break" says the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks as he points to the right flank of the Farqian mercenary army.
"If it fucken does, we gonna be in the shits real bads" adds the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world.
Field commander Drubine who was expecting he'd have to withdraw the right flank before it actually breaks, nods then says "And if we pull back our center lines".
"Them fuckheads on the road will slide in that direction and attack harder" says Dorkindle who then adds "When the cunts fucken do, our sides will come up, and around them all, and fucken waste 'em".
The ork general makes a circular motion with hands and arms, as if he's surrounding something. Which he then pretends to crush.
Tamric Drubine the field commander quickly looks down at the battle.
Then he looks at his lover Saanea the witch, who he sees has opened her eyes. And has been watching and listening to what the ork general has been saying.
The young field commander then looks at Lisell Maera the scout. Then he looks back at Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper. Who slightly nods his full helmed head.
Then the nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin looks over at the ork warleader again, and asks him "When should we do it Dorc?".
As he's already made up his mind to do what the ork warleader has suggested.
"Fucken soon if ya don't wants to see this turn into a giant fucken shit show" says Dorkindle who wipes his sweating forehead, as it's warm this morning, and there's no trees here on top of the hill to offer any shade.
Field commander Drubine nods, then turns to his subcommander and starts issuing some orders. Which are soon undertaken by the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
As a crossbow bolt clangs off his full helm. One shot from his own army as he makes his way through the enemy army, back to the battlelines of the Farqian mercenary army.
Dargarven the undead scout suddenly stops as he notices something.
He quickly looks up to the nearby hilltop, where Tamric Drubine the field commander and his staff are observing the battle this morning, here in the north of the province of Corlinda.
Then he looks ahead to the middle, or center of the battlelines of the army from the lands Farque.
And though the front ranks are still engaged with the king's forces. But what you can't see is that the ranks behind them are falling back. Which Dargarven can sense as they pull back.
The undead scout slightly frowns as he stands there, wondering why field commander Drubine would order such a maneuver.
Then Dargarven looks quickly away to his left, towards the road, where there's more of the king's army than anywhere else in the battle.
The undead scout nods his full helmed head in understanding. As he does, he's grabbed by multiple hands as the enemy around him, suddenly realise he's not one of them.
Dargarven shrugs off some of those who grab him. He elbows another in the side of the head, shattering the man's skull.
And he knees another who attempts to tackle him from the front. Caving in the front of that enemy soldier's head.
The undead scout grabs another, and throws him into some others who rush this way.
Then he quickly grabs one who has jumped onto his back. Dargarven flings him over his head. Sending him flying over thirty feet. To crash into the backs of some more of the enemy who are engaged with the Farqian mercenary army's center lines.
The undead scout is on the move again. Heading back to his army's battlelines.
As the center ranks fall back. Allowing more of the enemy behind those fighting against the right flank of the army from the lands Farque.
To move off the road, and head this way. As suddenly there's more room to do so.
As the enemy forces that Dargarven is in the midst of, fighting the center lines of the Farqian army.
Suddenly find the front ranks of the black clad soldiers they're battling against, start pulling back as if retreating.
Behind the full helm he wears, Dargarven slightly smiles. As he wonders who came up with this maneuver.
If it was either field commander Drubine, or general Dorc. The undead scout suspects it was the ork warleader.
As he heads back to his own lines, as around him, the enemy forces fighting on behalf of the crown and king of Melaurn.
Advanced upon the center lines of the Farqian mercenary army that all of sudden are retreating.
Not knowing they've just made a fatal mistake against the mercenary army fighting on behalf of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
On this warm summer morning, here in the north of the province of Corlinda, not far from the border with the province of Moleau . . . . . .

*Authors Note - 'Dropped' or 'Drops' is the term to describe a spell that has come to an end. Either by it being completed and the spellcaster has no more use for it. Or that the spellcaster has been incapacitated or killed.

To War 57.

Summer. The Province Of Corlinda.

"Take that you dastardly villain" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic after he kicks an enemy soldier in the groin.
Dropping the man to the ground, on his knees. Where the former paladin slams his pick into the top of the man's head.
Shoving the body to one side, the heavily armoured knight helps one of the goblin soldiers who has fallen over to stand up.
"Thanks sir knight" gasps Dickhead Thirty Something, who didn't fall over fighting the enemy soldier the nobleborn knight just killed. But he actually tripped over trying to stab the man in the side with his shortsword.
The large, dark green, almost black coloured goblin straightens his pot helm that's slipped forward to cover his eyes.
Then Thirty Something as he's called by the other goblins in the battalion.
Falls back when he hears Teabagger the Goblin Cunt call out "Sir Knight, don't advance!".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Grunts as he glances back, then he nods his full helmed head when the goblin commander calls out "Orders are to let them to come to us!".
The nobleman originally from the kingdom of Druvic, where he was once the earl of his family's fief.
Would normally disagree with such an order. But since the morning is so warm, and the heavily armoured knight is already hot in his armour.
And the order probably came from Tamric Drubine the field commander who is up the nearby hill.
The former earl of Lé Dic refuses to believe such an order came from his bitter rival, the ork warleader, Dorc da Orc.
He backs up to join the front of the goblin's lines, here on the left flank of the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Who this morning in the north of the province of Corlinda. Find themselves in a pitched battle with an army fighting for the king and crown of Melaurn.
Who are at war with lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, a nobleman from the neighbouring province of Karricaw.
Who has hired the first army of Farque as he fights against the king and his allies.
Teabagger the Goblin Cunt glances away to the left, and finds the foreign knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic back in the lines.
Just glad the large heavily armoured knight who sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the goblins.
Didn't tear off after the enemy, who if they aren't dead, or dying. Have retreated from this end of the left flank of the Farqian battlelines.
"Signal" says Dumbnuts the Third who is Teabagger's acting second.
"They're regrouping further out" adds the acting second in command of the goblin battalion, who is looking up to the top of the hill to their left.
On top of which is field commander Tamric Drubine and others, including the ork general, Dorc da Orc.
The small, bright lurid green goblin who commands the battalion of close to three hundred goblins in the armies of Farque.
Is just about to say something, when he flinches, as does everyone else around him.
When a large explosion rocks the open ground between the Farqian army's battlelines, and the woods away to the north.
Teabagger, who hails from the province of Sorros in northern Moleau.
Looks away to the right across the open ground, and sees a fiery ball of debris mushrooming up into the morning sky.
He grimaces as he sees burning people and horses running around before they drop as they're consumed by flames.
The goblin commander nods his head, as next to him, another one of his officers, Shitface Fucknose, says "Glad that was them, and not us".
Then Teabagger the Goblin Cunt who looks forward of where they are, calls out in the goblin language "Prepare for another charge on our lines!".
Next to him, Dumbnuts the Third calls out the same thing, though in the common language.
"Thanks" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic after he gives back the water sack he's taken a drink from.
Shur Kee the monk straps it back across his back. Then he looks across the open ground at the enemy when he hears the call from one of the goblin officers, that the enemy are going to charge them again.
"It seems they will try again" says Shur Kee the monk, who is yet to get involved in any fighting.
"Good" says the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, who is a member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che.
"Beats me going out to them" adds the former paladin in a loud mutter as he uses a cloth to wipe his brow.
The large, heavily armoured knight who has the faceplate of his full helm, open at the moment.
Looks at the enemy soldiers who are fighting on behalf of the king and crown of Melaurn.
"Hmmmm" murmurs the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of his homeland, the kingdom of Druvic.
"Hmmmm what?" mutters Shitbrains the Third in the goblin language, followed by "What's he see?".
"I don't know" quietly says Dickhead Thirty Something in the same language as he looks around the large figure of sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Trying to see what the nobleborn knight has spotted out on the open ground amongst the enemy.
"Ah i see" says Dickhead Thirty Something as he catches sight of what the former paladin has spotted.
"What is it?" asks Shitbrains the Third who hops up and down, trying to look over the others infront of them.
Thirty Something, who is tall for a goblin, well if you can call five and a half foot in height as tall, says to his good friend Shitbrains the Third "Enemy riders heading this way".
Then Dickhead Thirty Something nods when he hears Teabagger the Goblin Cunt shout "Archers target the mounts and their riders!".
The small, bright green goblin who commands the battalion of goblins in the armies of Farque, then calls out "Don't let any of them through our lines!".
"I'll take that chap" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he takes a spear out of the hands of one the goblins standing close by.
The heavily armoured knight looks around, and spots a spear in the hands of another of the goblin.
"Here, you little green fellow, give'th that spear you've got, wot" says the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of the kingdom of Druvic.
The goblin with that spear hands it over to the foreign knight, when one of his comrades shoves him in the back, and he stumbles towards the former paladin, who takes the spear off him.
"Why thank you little fellow" says Percy after grabbing the spear out of the hands of the goblin who stumbles his way.
As arrows and bolts fly from bows and crossbows of the goblin archers.
Both Dickhead Thirty Something and Shitbrains the Third step back and out of the way.
As the former paladin spins around in the direction the enemy is coming from, takes barely a step forward, then throws one of the two spears he has.
"Ha! Good shot there Percy old chap" declares the heavily armoured knight who is from the kingdom of Druvic.
"Hell" mutters Dickhead Thirty Something with a grimace as he sees one of the enemy riders go tumbling backwards off his horse, after the spear thrown by the nobleborn knight hits him square in the chest.
The member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che tosses the other spear from his left gauntleted hand, to his right.
He rears back with the spear, and throws it forward. It too hits the mark. This one hitting one of the enemy mounts in the middle of the chest.
That horse, and it's rider go down. The following mount runs right into them, and goes tumbling to one side. With the rider flung from the saddle.
That particular enemy cavalry soldier slams into another mount. Taking out it's legs. And that too hits the ground, crushing it's rider beneath it.
"Huh?" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a surprised tone of voice when he sees what he's just done.
The large, heavily armoured knight pauses for a moment or two, before he says "Verily, that was my intentions" followed by "I was supposed to do that, wot".
More than a few of the surrounding goblins look sideways at the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
Pikes, Halberds, and longspears aren't used by the goblins. Due to them being a short race, and those weapons being long.
So when the vast majority of the enemy cavalry coming their way. Are shot down by the archers. Or hit by spears thrown by sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
The remainder of the enemy mounted troops ride into the frontline of the goblin battalion.
As other enemy cavalry, who are still on their mounts. Are doing across, not just the left flank, but the entire length of the Farqian battlelines.
Whilst Teabagger the Goblin Cunt stands there in disbelief as an enemy rider leaps his mount ride over the small, bright lurid green goblin.
Without even hitting the commander of the goblin battalion in the armies of Farque.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic grabs the reins of a horse one of the enemy soldiers has ridden straight into the frontline of the goblin battalion.
The former paladin yanks hard on the reins, so much so, the horse stumbles and slides to one side, then topples over.
The rider leaps clear, only to land on the ground basically on all fours.
Where he's set upon by a bunch of goblins. Who hit him with their swords, axes, and hammers.
Dickhead Thirty Something looks away to the left, where he sees a riderless horse plowing through the ranks of goblins in that direction.
The large, dark green, almost black goblin gets behind where sir Percavelle Lé Dic is.
So does Thirty Something's friend, Shitbrains the Third, as do a number of the other goblins.
Who all see the nobleborn knight, take a long dagger from his belt.
As another enemy soldier forces his mount into the goblin ranks. Heading right for the large, heavily armoured knight
Dickhead Thirty Something doesn't exactly see what happens.
Because for one moment, it looks like the horse and rider is about to crash into the member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Then all of a sudden the next moment, horse and rider go flying backwards in the direction they've just come from.
Flying backwards through the air for about thirty or forty feet, just a couple of feet off the ground.
Before they hit the ground, which they tumble backwards and sideways across.
Before coming to a stop, where they're both still, obviously dead from either the impact of hitting the ground. Or from tumbling backwards across the ground before coming to a sudden stop.
Dickhead Thirty Something who had to quickly move to one side, as sir Percavelle Lé Dic stumbled a few steps backwards.
Hears the foreign knight laughing, then say "Very good, wot" followed by "Which one of these devilish fiends is next to face the great sir Percavelle?".
There's a brief pause from the former paladin before he adds "Wot".
"Bring him down!" shouts Teabagger the Goblin Cunt, as the rider who leapt his mount over him.
Is amongst the ranks of goblins, and is swinging his sword down at the surrounding goblins.
Unfortunately for that enemy cavalryman. He's lost all momentum, well to be exact, his horse has.
And many of the surrounding goblins, grab both him and his mount.
And though a few of the goblins die at the end of his blade. Others drag him out of the saddle, and down onto the ground.
Where he dies by an axe blow to the head, after a number of swords, axes and hammers hit him along the entire length of his body.
"Be a good chap and pass me that sword" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic with a nod of his full helmed head at an enemy sword on the ground.
"There you go sir knight" says Dickhead Thirty Something after picking up the fallen sword and handing it to the large, heavily armoured knight.
"Good fellow" says the former paladin who takes the sword by the blade, pulls it back behind his head, then throws it forward.
Biffing it a good fifty feet, where it smashes into an enemy rider heading towards the frontlines of the goblin battalion.
The shout of "Reform ranks!" comes from one of the officers near Teabagger the Goblin Cunt.
Thirty Something is sure that it was Shitface Fucknose who yelled that out.
Then the tall, dark green, almost black coloured goblin looks ahead, when he hears sir Percavelle Lé Dic say "Seems the blighters are going to do another foot charge, wot".
As the cavalry charge failed as very few of them actually made into the ranks of the goblin battalion.
Thirty Something nods his head when he hears the foreign knight say "Hmmm bit more this time by the looks of it" followed by "Should be a lot more interesting this time you little green fellows".
Dickhead Thirty Something turns to his friend Shitbrains The Third, to tell him something.
And finds his friend being picked up off the ground by a couple of the others in the battalion, who carry him back through their ranks to the rear. Tripping over a couple of times as they do so, after all, they are goblins.
Thirty Something didn't even see Shitbrains The Third go down, and doesn't even know if he's still alive, or if he's dead.
Then he looks ahead at the enemy who are approaching again. Running this way, as the goblin archers wait until they get into range to shoot at them.
The former earl of Lé Dic glances around at the goblins who surround him.
Well they're to the side and behind him to be exact. As none of them actually want to be infront of him.
And though they're goblins, and their general is his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic can't fault their courage and tenacity in battle.
Especially considering they're smaller than most humans, and are accident prone.
But since goblins are always hardworking, no matter what they do. Whether it's fighting in battle, or manual labour of any kind.
Percy sees that they actually make good soldiers. And he realises now why lord Farque has a battalion of them in his armies.
When there's no fighting company of goblins in any other army anywhere else in the Southlands.
"Come on you green fellows!" calls out sir Percavelle Lé Dic in encouragement, who continues with "Let us cut down these heinous villains who dare to attack us!" before adding "Wot".
As arrows and bolts fly from the bows and crossbows of the archers in the goblin battalion.
As the enemy in the king's army, once again charges them on the left flank of the Farqian mercenary army.
Here on this warm summer morning, in the north of the province of Corlinda, not far from the border with the province of Moleau . . . . . .

To War 56.

Summer. In The North Of The Province Of Corlinda.

Dickhead Thirty Something. There's been a lot of goblins in the battalion called Dickhead over the years.
That the ork general, Dorc da Orc has given up giving them an actual number. Now he's just kind of guessing where the number might be.
In the case of Thirty Something. The large ork, who isn't exactly known for his precision when it comes to counting. Unless it's armies facing off against one another in battle.
He's fairly accurate for the rather large, dark green, almost black goblin.
Who is infact number thirty six of the goblins called Dickhead in the battalion. But only the gods would know that. If they bothered to find out.
But Dickhead Thirty Something at the moment doesn't care anything about that.
What he does care about, is that he finds himself in the middle of a battle.
Here on a warm summer morning, in the north of the province of Corlinda. One of the southern provinces in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Where the goblin battalion in the armies of Farque. Are fighting alongside others in their lord's first army.
Who have been hired by a nobleman from the province of Karricaw, by the name of Gormica, the lord of Salmah Forest.
Who is at war with the crown and king of Melaurn.
Dickhead Thirty Something who at five foot, four inches in height, is rather tall for a goblin.
Looks over his fellow black clad goblin soldiers infront of him, and watches what's happening.
Farqian cavalry troops, both light and heavy cavalry have engaged with the enemy.
And to Thirty Something, which most of the others in the battalion call him. Considering there's at least four others in the battalion called Dickhead at this time.
A Twenty Two, a Twenty Something, and a Forty. Who like everyone else in their battalion. Was named by their general.
Sees a mass of swirling confusion out on the open countryside between their battlelines and the woods away to the north. Where the enemy army has come from.
He moves to one side to allow some of the archers forward. As the enemy on foot can be seen coming this way.
Towards the left flank of the Farqian army, near the hill that field commander Tamric Drubine, general Dorc da Orc, and others are up.
There's murmurs away to their right from the infantry company beside their battalion.
And Dickhead Thirty Something looks to where the human soldiers are looking.
And he blinks as at first he isn't quite sure what he's seeing. Then the large, dark green, almost black coloured goblin nods his head in understanding.
As he sees enemy soldiers and their mounts being flung up into the air as a twisting spout of water rips through them.
Thirty Something figures there must be a creek or stream there. Because the swirling water spout is far larger than what a water elemental spouter would normally be.
Other enemy soldiers, both mounted and on foot. Keep well away from that part of the open ground between the woods, and the Farqian battlelines.
I don't blame them, Dickhead Thirty Something dryly thinks to himself, as he watches the destruction wrought by one of the water elementals in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
He then looks to his left, as a rather loud, and not to mention, a rather pompous voice says in the common language "All ready now my fine green fellows!".
"Here goes sir blowhard again" murmurs Shitbrains The Third in the goblin language, who is standing beside Thirty Something.
The other goblins around them all chuckle when they hear that.
"We shall slay these heathens who try to take us on, wot" adds sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who ignores the chuckling from some of the nearby goblins.
Dickhead Thirty Something wryly smiles as he looks at the former paladin who has decided to join them this morning.
Most likely to piss off their general, as the two of them are bitter rivals.
Then he looks ahead, as up ahead, and around them, to either side of the goblin battalion.
Comed the command for the archers and crossbowmen to shoot at the enemy who are within range.
Thirty Something watches arrows shot from longbows go out, and strike down the enemy who are charging them in a rather haphazard manner.
Shorter bows, and crossbows. Which obviously the goblin archers use, won't be used until the enemy gets closer. That's if any of the enemy soldiers get within range.
Dickhead Thirty Something can't help but nod in agreement with the foreign knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic who says in a wry tone of voice "Not very sporting, wot".
The large, heavily armoured knight then adds "These chaps in the king's army need to get their act together, wot".
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, who has no actual position or rank in the armies of Farque.
But is a member of the group who travels with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, then adds in a tone of disappointment "I the great sir Percavelle will be bitterly disappointed if i, the greatest knight in all the world, is unable to cut down a few dozen of these men fighting for this despicable king".
The former paladin, who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, who does like the sound of his own voice, then says "They need a bit of leadership over there, wot".
Followed by "If not, then the paramount knight of this world, will miss out on all of the fun" he briefly pauses before adding "Wot".
Dickhead Thirty Something hears one of the officers up front, he thinks it's Dumbnuts The Third, say in their language "Sir talks too much might be waffling on as usual, but he's right" followed by "These bastards aren't very organised".
Then the large, dark green, almost black goblin, who joined the battalion when they made their way faraway to the north, in the elven principality of Alínlae a few years ago.
Hears the battalion commander, Teabagger the Goblin Cunt says "This lot might not be, be they sure are".
Thirty Something looks away to the right, to the east where the goblin commander Teabagger gestures to.
In the distance, to the road that comes out of the woods to the north across the open ground.
There he sees the enemy on the road, and to either side of it, are far more organised in comparison to the ones approaching this flank.
Dickhead Thirty Something, then looks ahead again, and sees that more of the enemy have evaded the mounted Farqian troopers.
And are approaching this end of the battlelines of the army that's under the command of field commander, Tamric Drubine.
Those goblins with bows and crossbows shoot at the enemy rushing this way, cutting down all twenty five to thirty of them.
Much to the disappointment of sir Percavelle Lé Dic who can be heard loudly sighing. As he's more than a little disappointed that he doesn't get to fight any of the enemy soldiers.
Who are in an army fighting for the cause of the crown and king, in the war between the king of Melaurn. And sir Gormica of Salmah Forest, a nobleman who calls the province of Karricaw home.
"Look" says Shitbrains The Third, who continues with "There's a whole bunch of them coming our way now".
Thirty Something sees what his fellow goblin soldier standing next to him has spotted.
A large number of the enemy on this side of the battlefield have organised themselves well enough.
That a lot of those on horseback have fully engaged with the Farqian horse troop on the open ground infront of the goblin battalion and others.
Allowing the rest of them who are on foot, to charge at the left flank of the Farqian mercenary army.
Dickhead Thirty Something tightly grins as he hears sir Percavelle Lé Dic say in a rather gleeful tone of voice "By Narille and Saint Mar-che, my prayers have been answered" followed by "These king's men are going to get a good drubbing now, wot".
Someone's definitely looking forward to this, Thirty Something dryly thinks to himself with a sideways glance in the direction of the large, knight in the full suit of burnished steel plate armour, with a white cape attached to the shoulder roundrels of his armour.
Arrows and bolts fly from the left flank of the Farqian mercenary army that Tamric Drubine commands.
Dickhead Thirty Something who is tall enough. Well tall enough for a goblin that is. To see over the goblins infront of him, and see many of the enemy fall to the ground after getting hit.
But others still come on, some heading to the predominantly human company to the right of the goblin battalion. While others rush towards the black clad goblins.
"Hold firm!" shouts Teabagger the Goblin Cunt in their language.
It's repeated in common by one of the officers, Thirty Something believes it's Shitface Fucknose.
Then the large, dark green, almost black goblin nudges Shitbrains The Third, and nods at the nearby foreign knight who stands amongst them.
Dickhead Thirty Something who hasn't spoken since they formed their battlelines, quietly says to Shitbrains The Third "Stick close to the crazy knight".
"Are you fucking nuts?" says Shitbrains The Third to his friend Thirty Something, who usually isn't one for speaking.
The large goblin who has been in the battalion for nearly three years, wryly smiles then quietly says "No".
Then Dickhead Thirty Something quietly continues with "But that mad man will cut down any of the enemy who gets close to him" followed by "And close to us too, if we stay near him".
"Good point" murmurs Shitbrains The Third who is a typical looking goblin. Forest green in colour, and just under five foot tall.
Thirty Something looks around, then quietly says to his friend "And the councilor is nearby too" he then adds "You know how he is".
Shitbrains The Third looks around and spots the honorary member of lord Farque's personal council, Shur Kee the monk standing not far from sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
He nods his head in agreement with his good friend Thirty Something. As they, like everyone in their battalion. Knows about councilor Kee's reputation. Who even their general, the ork warleader, Dorc da Orc is cautious around.
The two of them move closer to the large, heavily armoured knight. Who Thirty Something sees has got a gauntleted hand on the hilt of what's look like a long dagger, that's on his belt.
The large, dark green, almost black coloured goblin glances back at the nearby councilor. Who is peering ahead at the approaching enemy.
Dickhead Thirty Something looks ahead again, and sees more of the enemy drop as they're hit by arrows and bolts shot from the Farqian battlelines.
Then he sees one, then two, a third, then others reach the front of the goblin battalion's lines.
Where actual fighting breaks out for the first time on this flank, the left flank of the battlelines of the Farqian mercenary army, led by field commander Tamric Drubine.
Thirty Something nudges Shitbrains The Third, and nods in the direction of sir Percavelle Lé Dic, and murmurs to his friend "Follow him".
As the former paladin who has joined their battalion says "Move aside there you little green fellows" followed by "Let i, the great sir Percavelle through, so i can vanquish the enemy, wot".
The nobleborn knight who hails from the kingdom of Druvic starts moving forward to get to the front of the battlelines.
The goblins in his way, shuffle to get out of his way. As the foreign knight moves forward.
Dickhead Thirty Something, along with Shitbrains The Third follow closely behind the large, heavily armoured knight.
While a bit behind the two of them. The honorary member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, Shur Kee the monk. Follows both them and sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
As the battle proper reaches the left flank of the Farqian mercenary army, on this warm summer morning here in the north of the province of Corlinda . . . . . .

To War 55.

Summer. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

Lisell Maera the scout runs back to the battlelines of the waiting army from the lands Farque.
The ranger from her small team of three is off to the left of her.
While the other scout in the trio. Is dead back in the woods behind them.
She was hit by an arrow in the back, and instead of continuing on, she decided to turn and face their pursuers.
As there's an awful lot of them chasing the scouts and rangers in the Farqian army led by field commander Tamric Drubine.
Scouts and rangers who were sent out to harass the enemy. And get them to spread out as they came south through the woods.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well.
Has only seen a large cavalry company come the other way across the open ground.
Who are currently in a running battle with some of the enemy. No doubt trying to get the fractured enemy to follow them.
The only one else the attractive young woman originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
Has seen going the other way, towards the enemy army who have crossed over into the province of Corlinda.
Is the undead scout Dargarven, who walked by as she ran by him in the other direction.
The scout who wears light leather armour, but a full helm upon his head.
Just nodded in greeting as the scout Maera ran by in the other direction as she heads back to their lines.
Lis veers away to her right as she approaches the Farqian battlelines.
She heads towards the hill, there she can see a number of people on the top of it.
Watching what is essentially the start of a battle, on this warm summer morning here in the north of the province of Corlinda.
The tall, lean, athletic and attractive looking young woman who hails from the coast of the Southlands.
Turns a sharp right, and runs infront of the lines of infantry battalions in the force that field commander Drubine leads.
Going by the battalion of goblins, the scout spots sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Shur Kee the monk with them.
Lisell Maera acknowledges the greeting called out by Shur Kee with a wave of her left hand as she heads to the nearby hill.
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
Where her mother was a street prostitute, and her father. A man she never knew, or for that matter, met. Was a sailor who plied his trade upon the Great Western Ocean.
Looks up towards the top of the hill again. And slightly grins as she spots the unmistakable figure of Dorc da Orc up there.
Who Lis figures is probably fuming that he's up on the hilltop with Tamric Drubine and the others in the field commander's staff.
And not down with his battalion of goblins. Who are on the left flank of the battlelines.
The scout Maera is for certain that the large ork is also mad because his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic is down in the battlelines with the goblin battalion.
Percy definitely did that on purpose, Lisell Maera the scout dryly thinks to herself as she starts making her way up the hill.
While the ranger from her team, heads through their lines. And goes in search for the rest of their company who have made it back.
On the hilltop, the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury.
And is now in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque. The first army of Farque to be exact.
Finds field commander Drubine in conversation with his lover, the witch Saanea. His subcommander, and two more of his officers.
Lis looks over at the undead heavy foot trooper Arveem and thinks about waiting next to him.
But she decides not to, and instead wanders over to where Dorc da Orc has crouched down to one knee.
And stands by him, though not too close. As the large ork absolutely reeks.
The ork general who is glaring as he looks down at the Farqian battlelines. To be exact, where his goblin battalion is located in the lines.
Grunts in reply to Lisell Maera the scout saying to him "Things are getting going now, for sure".
That ork warleader then looks away from the Farqian battlelines, and looks to the north at the approaching enemy when Lis asks him "How do you think things will go Dorc?".
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world watches the crown's forces coming out of the woods to the north.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name. If he was the enemy commander, would be extremely fucked off with what the king's army are doing.
They're far too spread out for his liking. And too many of them, from too many different companies and battalions.
Are trying to engage with the large light cavalry company from the Farqian army under the leadership of field commander Drubine.
Who have been sent out to draw even more of them away, in the direction of the left flank of the waiting army from the lands Farque.
Who are fighting for lord Gormica of Salmah Forest. The Karricawian nobleman who finds himself in a war against the crown and the king of Melaurn.
"Those horsey cunts of their's are being fucken silly chasing our horsey troops" says Dorc da Orc as he points at the enemy giving chase to the cavalry company from the Farqian mercenary army.
"Should be fucken light horsey troops goin' after ours, not all mixed up fuckers they got there" adds the large ork.
The scout Maera nods her head, as the enemy giving chase to the light cavalry company from the lands Farque.
Are a mix of light and heavy horse troops. As well as soldiers who just took horses to chase after the Farqian scouts and rangers. But are now engaged in a running battle with the company of light cavalry from the Farqian battlelines.
Dorkindle grunts, then points along the treeline of the woods, which the enemy are still coming out of.
"Fucken stupid spread out like that" says the ork warleader, who goes on and explains "Not even in their fucken groups, er units, yeah that's fucken it" followed by "Or their fucken companies".
The ork weaponsmith shakes his head in disgust as he says "They all fucken mixed up, and look at the silly fuckers" he continues on with "They fucken comin' this way at us".
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, then adds "The stupid cunts are makin' it fucken hards for 'em selves".
Lisell Maera glances back as she realises the conversation behind them has stopped.
And Tamric Drubine and the others with him, are watching and listening to the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
The young field commander nods for Lis to keep talking to the ork general. No doubt wanting Dorkindle's thoughts on what could happen.
"And that lot over on the road?" asks the scout Maera who points to the enemy soldiers on the road.
"Them cunts kinda fucken knows what they doing" says the ork warleader as he looks at the enemy forces on the road.
"See they not fucken charging down here at us" adds Dorc da Orc, who follows that with "And they not so fucken spread out all over the fucken place".
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world then loudly mutters "The fucken cunts".
Then the general in the armies of Farque, who is actually the senior most officer here. But no one bothers telling him that. As they don't actually want him to lead.
His tactics, and crazy ideas are genius. But his leadership skills are a lot to be desired. And that's being generous.
Looks at the scout standing next to him, and tells her "Those cunts on that road got some fuckers who know what to fucken do".
Lisell Maera nods, then the tall, lean, athletic and attractive looking young woman says "That lot more orderly than the rest of them?".
The large ork grunts, then says "Yeah, that's what those fuckheads cuntbums are" followed by "Fucken orders" he pauses then adds "Me mean fucken ordered".
Dorkindle pauses once more, then with a scowl upon his broad, green, brutish looking face, says "Ordering".
The warleader of the ork race, who has trouble with the common language at the best of times, growls as he thinks of the word Lis just said, then he says "They fucken orderly".
He briefly pauses as he thinks about it, then grunts more or less in satisfaction.
Though the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, does mutter "Fucken cunty word that one".
The scout Lisell Maera nods, then leaves Dorkindle to watch the approaching enemy.
While she walks over to the field commander, Tamric Drubine and the others with him. And she reports to the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin who is in command of this particular force of the first army of Farque.
"From what we could tell, all those coming out of the treeline are from a few of the Olindan nobles" says Lisell Maera in the elven language.
The scout who is in the third company of scouts and rangers in this particular force led by field commander Drubine, continues with "They're far less disciplined than the rest of their army".
Lis then points away to the road that comes out of the woods to the north, and adds "That lot are with whoever it is that's commanding them from the capital".
The attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury, and is now in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque continues with "Even though they're made up of the rest from the province of Olind, and those from Sorros".
"Then they're the ones we'll have to worry about" says Tamric Drubine the field commander in the same language.
"The ones we'll have to concentrate on, and break" adds the senior officer who commands this particular force of the first army of Farque.
Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well nods at the enemy approaching and says "Those others are crossing the open ground as they see fit".
"There's quite a few of those" says the subcommander who is field commander Drubine's second.
She continues with "By the looks of things, their entire army might outnumber us by a thousand, not seven or eight hundred".
"And that's with us killing a lot of them already" adds Lisell Maera the scout.
The son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin nods in agreement with that, then he says "That can't be helped".
The nobleborn teenager who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque continues with "We'll deal with it the best way that we can".
The young field commander then looks at his subcommander and tells her "Give the signal to engage when that lot on this side get within range" followed by "The other cavalry companies first, then the infantry companies, their ranged first of course".
Tamric Drubine or Tam as more often than not he's called by those who know him well, then adds "Have the middle and the right flank stay put" he continues with "They'll be the ones to deal with that lot coming down the road who actually know what they're doing".
The subcommander nods, and she and another officer go over and speak with the signalmen.
While field commander Drubine, his lover Saanea the witch, Lisell Maera the scout, followed by one of Tam's adjuncts make their way forward to where Dorc da Orc is.
The young field commander who leads this particular force of the first army of Farque explains to the ork general in the common language, what he's just ordered.
The ork warleader who is now sitting, looks away from their own battlelines, his battalion of goblins to be exact. Then grunts as he looks at the enemy army approaching from the north.
Dorkindle with a nod of his head, says to field commander Drubine "Good fucken starts i guess".
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, then gestures at the enemy in the distance coming down the road.
Some of them have spread out to either side of the road, particularly those on horseback.
"If them fuckers are smarts enough, they should send some of their fucken horsey soldiers to this flank" says the large ork, referring to the left flank of the Farqian force that Tamric Drubine commands.
The nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin nods to that.
As along the left flank of his force, those closest to the hill. Is the least amount of the Farqian force from the first army.
As the enemy army who have crossed over into the province of Corlinda from the province of Moleau.
Come forward in dribs and drabs towards the left flank of the waiting mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Those of the enemy on the road, and just off to the sides of it, have come to a stop.
Noticing this, Lisell Maera the scout points that way and says "They're about to do something there".
"Gonna fucken charge when they gots enough cunts behind them" says Dorc da Orc with confidence, who can clearly see the intentions of the king's army.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world nods his head to where the enemy on the road are still coming out of the woods, and he says "They should send  some of those fucken cunts back there, this fucken way".
Lisell Maera, Tamric Drubine, Saanea the witch, and the adjunctant nod in agreement with that.
Then the four of them turn, and look back at Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper who tells them "That cleric of their's is dead".
"That's good" murmurs the scout Maera, who then looks forward across the open ground, the spot field commander Drubine picked for the battle against this particular army of the king of Melaurn.
As a couple of the cavalry companies here on the left flank ride out to confront the oncoming enemy.
The tall, lean, athletic and attractive looking young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, quietly says "Here we go".
As the battle between the Farqian mercenary force fighting on behalf of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
And this army made up predominantly of allies to the crown and the king.
Gets properly underway, here in the north of the province of Corlinda. On what's another warm summer morning in this part of the kingdom of Melaurn . . . . . .

To War 54.

Summer. Northern Corlinda.

Looking northwards, Teabagger the Goblin Cunt shakes his head as he watches the enemy.
They're spread out as they come out of the woods. Across a front of easily more than a mile. Closer to two in Teabagger's estimation.
The small, bright lurid green goblin who commands the goblin battalion in the armies of Farque.
Sees that the majority of the enemy soldiers, either on horseback or on foot.
Come out of the woods via the road that goes through it, and continues onwards to the southeast.
But the goblin commander sees an awful lot of the crown's forces coming out of the treeline.
Already a lot of them have advanced, as they pursue the Farqian scouts and rangers, who have already been harassing the enemy army. Who have crossed over into the province of Corlinda, from the province of Moleau.
Teabagger who knows that most of this enemy army is from the province of Olind.
And are made up of various armies from nobles in that province. With a small number coming from the province of Sorros. As well as from the capital city Calinar.
And it shows, as they've yet to coordinate things now that they can see the army to the south, waiting for them.
The goblin commander who knows that the force from the first army of Farque, commanded by field commander, Tamric Drubine.
Is outnumbered by this particular army fighting for the king and crown.
Best estimates has the crown's army outnumbering Tamric Drubine's force of just over three thousand Farqian soldiers, by about seven to eight hundred.
Teabagger isn't too worried about that if the enemy's movements are anything to go by.
He's just worried if he can keep his battalion under control since their general isn't here with them.
The small, bright green goblin, who is from here in the kingdom of Melaurn. The northern province of Sorros to be exact.
Is positioned with his battalion on the left flank of the Farqian battlelines, with other black clad infantry.
He looks away to the left, and back. To the hill that field commander Drubine and others. Including general Dorc da Orc are up.
Teabagger spots his general pacing back and forth. No doubt wanting to be down here in the lines with his battalion.
Then the goblin commander looks to the north again when one of the other goblins mentions something.
And though the open countryside between here and the woods is relatively flat.
It does undulate in places. And it takes a few moments for Teabagger to spot a black clad messenger heading this way.
The small, bright lurid green goblin who hails from northern Melaurn.
Watches as the messenger, or runner as they're often referred to, come running this way.
The goblin commander nods his head, as one of his officers, Dumbnuts the Third quietly says in their language "Must be important, that youngster is fair racing back here".
The commander of the goblin battalion, who is pretty sure he recognises the runner. But can't quite recall their name.
Watches as the messenger turns towards the hill that field commander Drubine and the others are up.
"Wonder what it is?" quietly asks Dumbnuts the Third.
"We'll find out soon enough" is the quiet reply of Teabagger the Goblin Cunt.
Who watches the messenger for a little while longer. Until the teenage runner starts heading up the nearby hill.
Then the goblin commander goes back to watching the enemy army who are coming out of the woods to the north.
"Take your time and get your breath back" says Tamric Drubine the field commander to the teenage messenger who has just come up the hill.
That the nobleborn teenager originally from feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, and the others with him, are observing the crown's army that's approaching from the north.
"Report from the scouts and rangers third company" says the messenger Furnid once he's got his breath back.
The young field commander who leads this particular force of the first army of Farque. Roughly a third of the Farqian mercenary army that's fighting on behalf of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest against the crown and king of Melaurn.
Listens to what young Furnid has to say. One of the messengers that Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Helped to train during the wintertime. Up in the northwest of the lands Farque.
After Furnid tells him the message from the third company of the scouts and rangers. The company that Lisell Maera the scout is in.
The son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine, a castle and lands found in the northwest of the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Tells the young teen to drink some water, and to wait with the other nearby runners.
Then field commander Drubine says to his subcommander "Send one of the light cavalry companies on this flank" he continues with "Have them try and draw as many of them down to this end of our lines as possible".
The subcommander nods, then she turns to one of the signalmen to give them the order.
Meanwhile sir Percavelle Lé Dic who has been watching his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc pace back and forth, declares "I'm off down yonder".
The heavily armoured knight gestures down the hill to their battlelines.
As Dorc da Orc loudly mutters "Get yo'self killed ya cunt" with a sideways glare at the former paladin who is his bitter rival.
Tamric Drubine asks the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic "Off to join the heavy foot?".
The young field commander actually doesn't mind the heavily armoured knight joining one of the battalions.
It keeps him out of his way. And the former paladin will definitely be an asset to any company he fights alongside of.
"No" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
"I thought I'd join those short, green fellows the goblins" adds the heavily armoured knight, who has the faceplate of his full helm open, and is grinning as he looks Dorc da Orc's way.
The ork warleader stops his pacing, and stares at his bitter rival as he walks away.
"Da fuck?" says the large ork in disgust as he looks at the nobleman who hails from the kingdom of Druvic.
As the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world turns and looks at field commander Drubine, and demands of him "You gonna let that cunt do that?".
The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin just rolls his eyes as the ork weaponsmith stands there growling as he looks at his bitter rival walking away.
Then the young field commander looks around, and spots Shur Kee the monk, and says to the physical adept "Shur Kee go with Percy and keep an eye on him".
"Of course friend Tamric" says Shur Kee the monk who sets off after the former earl of Lé Dic, which is the family fief of the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
"Make sure them gob-a-lins not do anything that fucken knight cunt tells 'em" says Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, to the departing Shur Kee.
The short, statured monk who is from the far eastern coast of the continent, the kingdom of Wah Lee to be exact.
Just waves in response to the ork warleader, as he heads downhill after the member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che.
"Fuck" sourly mutters the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world as he watches sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Shur Kee the monk head down to the battlelines.
"They have a cleric" says Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper in the elven language.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, turns and looks at the undead being and asks him "As powerful as Beldane".
"Hardly" is the dry sounding reply from the man mountain that is Arveem.
"Though still a nuisance" adds the seven foot tall, well in excess of three hundred pounds in weight, heavily armoured undead heavy foot trooper.
"I'll deal to him" says Dargarven the undead scout from where he stands next to his older brother Arveem.
Field commander Drubine who can't do anything to stop one of the Farqian undead from doing anything, just nods his head.
Dargarven then walks forward, and heads down the front of the hill, as he starts making his way north towards the enemy.
Down amongst the battlelines of the Farqian force led by the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
Teabagger the Goblin Cunt is watching the company of light cavalry from their lines, who have ridden out to confront some of the enemy.
When next to him Dumbnuts the Third says "Oh hell, here comes that crazy knight".
The goblin commander turns and looks to where one of his officers is gesturing to.
The small, bright green goblin who leads the battalion of goblins in the armies of Farque.
Sourly smiles as he spots sir Percavelle Lé Dic heading this way.
"Maybe he's joining that heavy foot away to our right?" muses another of the officers, Shitface Fucknose.
"I doubt it" sourly mutters Dumbnuts the Third.
Teabagger the Goblin Cunt can only nod in agreement with that, then the goblin commander spots who is following behind the large, heavily armoured knight who is their general's bitter rival.
"The holy man is with him" quietly says the small, bright green goblin, who then adds "The monk".
The nearby goblins who are watching the approaching knight, hope the monk stays with the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic if he decides to fight alongside their battalion.
The goblins all know their general isn't respectful to anyone except for lord Farque.
But the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world is cautious around the short, statured monk.
As he has strange powers at his disposal that some of the goblins have seen in action.
"If that crazy knight does join us, hope that monk does too" Teabagger murmurs to Dumbnuts the Third, and Shitface Fucknose.
Both officers nod in agreement, as they all know the former paladin is the craziest person they know with the exception of their general, who is just plain nuts.
As the nobleborn knight and the short, statured monk approach.
Teabagger, along with just about everyone else in the battlelines. Sees the undead scout Dargarven has made his way down from the top of the hill.
And is now casually walking across the open ground, northwards towards the enemy.
And though one of the cavalry companies has engaged with the enemy.
The only others in Farqian mercenary army out on the open ground between their army and the enemy, are the returning scouts and rangers.
The undead scout Dargarven is the only one in their army on foot, going towards the enemy.
The goblin commander Teabagger takes his eyes off the undead scout Dargarven.
And turns to his left, as sir Percavelle Lé Dic walks up to him, stops, then says "Ah there you are you little green chap wot".
The heavily armoured knight from the kingdom of Druvic who has the faceplate of his full helm open at the moment, and is grinning, then adds "I, the great sir Percavelle, the paramount knight in all the world".
The former paladin doesn't even pause as he continues with "Anointed by the great god himself Narille, to go about in this world of ours, to make a difference with thy sword and shield".
The nobleman who hails from the kingdom of Druvic then says "Will join you little green fellows to vanquish all who dare to challenge us".
Percy does pause for a moment or two before he adds the obligatory "Wot".
"What a fucking blowhard" murmurs Dumbnuts the Third in the goblin language.
Both Shitface Fucknose and Teabagger the Goblin Cunt, nod in agreement with that.
So do all the other goblins in the battalion who were able to hear what the former earl of Lé Dic just said.
"Ah very good sir knight" says the goblin commander in the common language.
Who then glances at the short, statured monk standing a bit behind the heavily armoured knight.
"And you too councilor?" asks Teabagger the Goblin Cunt, who of course like all of them in their battalion, was renamed by their general, Dorc da Orc.
"I shall" says Shur Kee the monk who is an honorary member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"At least that's something" murmurs Dumbnuts the Third in goblin, who then adds "He can keep an eye on that crazy knight".
The small, bright lurid green goblin who commands their battalion is in agreement with that.
Then Teabagger looks up to the hilltop to the left of the battlelines. And spots his general, Dorc da Orc looking down in this direction.
With his naturally enhanced eyesight, the goblin commander can clearly see the look on the face of the ork warleader, who is obviously looking at his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
And the small, bright green goblin who is originally from the province of Sorros in the north of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Knows his general well enough, to know that the warleader of the ork race. Is angry at the moment, and must be seething that his bitter rival is down in the battlelines, with the goblin battalion.
"Going to be one of those mornings" Teabagger the Goblin Cunt murmurs to himself. Who then turns and looks northwards towards the enemy.
Beyond the retreating scouts and rangers, one of whom he recognises as Lisell Maera the scout.
He sees the cavalry company who have engage with the enemy. Have wheeled about, and have got a fair, few of the enemy chasing them now.
As they too head back southwards towards the Farqian army's battlelines.
All the while, the undead scout Dargarven continues to walk northwards across the open ground towards the enemy who are approaching from the north.
"Pass the word to get ready" quietly says Teabagger the Goblin Cunt in their language to his officers Dumbnuts the Third, and Shitface Fucknose.
"They'll be here soon" adds the goblin commander as the king's army coming out of the woods to the north, heads this way . . . . . .

To War 53.

Summer. Corlinda. Melaurn.

They travel throughout the rest of the day, and into the evening. Making camp again during the middle of the night.
In the province of Corlinda, some twelve miles south of the border with the province of Moleau.
They break camp well before dawn, though they don't move out all that far.
As they're basically in the spot that field commander Drubine has picked for the battle against the enemy who have come down out of eastern Moleau.
In the early morning sunshine, sir Percavelle Lé Dic stands there with his helm tucked in the crook of his right arm.
As he grins whilst looking over at his bitter rival, the ork warleader, Dorc da Orc.
The large ork is more than a little surly this morning. As field commander Drubine has ordered him to stay here, and not join his battalion of goblins.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world was going to disobey Tamric Drubine.
Until the undead scout Dargarven briefly spoke to the ork general in the incomprehensible language of the orks.
Followed by his brother, the undead heavy foot trooper Arveem, also in the ork language.
Whatever was said to Dorc da Orc, the ork weaponsmith is doing what he's told. For now at least.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Looks down the hill to the position of the goblin battalion in the battlelines.
And figures they can look after themselves well enough without their general around.
Besides, the former paladin is of the belief that their commander, Teabagger the Goblin Cunt.
Is a competent enough commander to lead them in battle without having their general yelling and shouting at them like he usually does.
The nobleborn knight originally from the kingdom of Druvic, who actually doesn't have any rank or position in the armies of Farque at all.
Glances to his right, as Shur Kee the monk comes up from the backside of the hill they're on, and stands beside him.
The large heavily armoured knight thinks about wandering away.
But decides to stay put. Staying beside the short, statured monk.
For though Percy who despises magic just as much as his bitter rival Dorc da Orc does.
And the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, can deal with most magical attacks with his shield, the shield of Saint Mar-che.
It doesn't hurt to have a bit more protection from magic around you in the heat of battle.
And that's what the former earl of Lé Dic. Which is his family's fief in eastern Druvic, sees Shur Kee the monk as.
For the physical adept, with his strange, and frankly fey powers in the opinion of sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Can stand up to any spellcaster, no matter who they are, or how powerful they are.
As the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic is just thinking about spellcasters.
He looks over at the witch Saanea. Who is standing next to her lover, the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
Percy frowns as he looks at the practitioner of magic from the Maldin Hills.
Who is standing there with her eyes closed. Doing something probably unholy in the opinion of the former paladin.
The large, heavily armoured knight who though in his mid forties, is just as deadly and lethal in battle as he was fifteen years ago.
Looks away to the north, when Saanea the witch with her eyes still closed, says "They've engaged with them".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic nods his head, knowing that the forward elements of their army are now fighting against the enemy, who have made their way down into the province of Corlinda.
Lisell Maera, as a scout in the appropriately named scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Is amongst those to first engage the enemy army who have crossed the border into the province of Corlinda from eastern Moleau.
The enemy, predominantly a combined force of armies of various nobles from the province of Olind.
With a smattering of them coming from the province of Sorros. As well as from the capital city Calinar.
Are moving south along the road that goes through one of the many woods in this area of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Where the three provinces of Mofosild, Moleau and Corlinda meet.
The crown's army in this part of the warzone, are mostly on the road. But others are actually in the woods itself.
And it's mainly those who the scouts and rangers from the lands Farque are fighting.
Lisell Maera the scout shoots off a bolt from her crossbow. Then turns and runs as the quarrel flies towards it's intended target.
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury. Who is now a scout in the armies of Farque runs by a ranger, who shoots off an arrow from his bow. Before he turns and runs after the scout Maera.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well.
Runs by the position of another of the scouts in their division, here in the army under the command of the young field commander Tamric Drubine.
That scout shoots an arrow from her bow, then turns and runs after the ranger, and Lisell Maera.
The tall, lean, athletic young woman who hails from the coast of the Southlands.
Where her mother was a street prostitute in Brattonbury. And whose father, a man she never knew, or met, was a sailor.
Gets about thirty yards from the position her fellow scout was positioned.
Lis who has pulled back on the underside of her quick loading crossbow.
Which was designed by Dorc da Orc, and belonged to Shur Kee the monk, before the short, statured monk gave it to Lisell Maera when she was an adolescent.
Quickly takes a quarrel from her quiver, and loads the bolt in her crossbow.
As first the ranger, then the other scout run by her position up against the side of a tree.
The scout originally from the city-state of Brattonbury takes aim, as she looks at the enemy running through the woods in this direction.
Lis lets the bolt fly, and runs after her fellow company members. As the three of them leapfrog one another as they shoot at the enemy heading through the woods.
They're not the only scouts and rangers in this particular force in the first army of Farque doing this in the first light of the day.
Dozens are doing so, while even more are sporadically shooting at the bulk of the enemy who are on the road, heading south through this part of northern Corlinda.
Hoping to get more of the crown's forces to head through the woods itself.
As field commander Drubine's intentions is to get them to spread out as much as possible through this particular wood.
As just to the south of it, in more open countryside. Waits the bulk of the force that the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin leads.
Lisell Maera flinches as a bolt or arrow thuds into a tree close by.
The attractive young woman who hails from the coast of the Southlands looks ahead, and sees the ranger standing about thirty yards away.
Drawing his bow back, basically aiming directly at Lis. Who sees him slightly nod his head to one side.
The scout Maera steps to that side as she runs, and the ranger lets the arrow from his bow fly.
Lisell Maera doesn't see, but she definitely feels the arrow fly by her, barely missing her head as it flies towards it's intended target.
She hears a yell of pain from somewhere behind her, and grins in satisfaction as she runs.
The scout, like the other scouts and rangers in their division serving with the force led by field commander Drubine.
Knows that they're basically the bait to get the enemy to do what Tamric Drubine wants them to do.
And that's to draw them to a position he wants them to be. In what will be a pitched battle sometime later this morning.
Lis who is breathing fairly steadily, is silent as she runs, as are the other scout and ranger she's working with in a team, first thing this morning.
As the tall, lean, athletic and attractive looking young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
Comes to a stop, and reloads her crossbow again. She blinks as she feels a fine spray of water droplets brush by the side of her face.
And on a dry, already warm start to the day. The scout serving in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque knows it can only be one thing.
After she lets the bolt in her crossbow fly towards another of the enemy chasing after her and the other two in her small team.
Lisell Maera the scout calls out in the elven language to the other scout, and the ranger "Keep moving, don't stop!".
The ranger runs by her, then so does the other scout. Lis follows them, knowing that one of the water elementals in their division. Either a Courser or an even rarer Spouter.
Has just turned up, and is moving towards the enemy who are quite close, and are giving chase.
As the scout Maera runs through the woods, hears a roaring sound from somewhere behind her. Followed by shouts of surprise, then screams of fright.
As Lis hears what seems to be the ground being torn up, and trees being ripped up and flung around in all directions.
The attractive young woman who hails from the coast of the Southlands knows that a water elemental spouter has just appeared in his natural form.
And he's swirling about as a water spout through the woods. Ripping apart everything he comes into contact with.
And there's nothing those enemy who gets caught up in the violent destructive force, can do to stop what's happening.
As there's no spellcaster with them to do a fire spell to incapacitate the most powerful of the water elementals.
The screaming and shouting abruptly come to an end. And the scout Maera slows and looks back behind her.
A patch of the woods is clear, trees down, and the ground ripped up.
Lis looks beyond the brand new open patch of the woods. And spots a number of the enemy in the distance.
Who have briefly stopped after witnessing what just happened.
Then they shout and yell, when they spot the scout Maera, pointing at her.
Then they take off running, heading in this direction.
The tall, lean attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
Slightly grins as she picks up speed again as more of the enemy are now chasing her and her small team, than there was before.
The scout who is part of the group who travels with lord Farque.
Feels the water elemental spouter go by her to the right. As he's now a patch of fine mist going through the woods.
Heading elsewhere to wreck destruction upon the enemy soldiers.
To get more and more of them heading in the direction that field commander Tamric Drubine wants them to end up.
On a hilltop further south, sir Percavelle Lé Dic looks to the north, where in the distance is the woods that the enemy army is in.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, where he was the former earl of his family's fief. Looks at the road that comes out of the woods in the distance.
And sees enemy riders come out of the woods on the road. The first of their mounted scouts, who spot the waiting army to the south.
The large, heavily armoured knight then looks over to where Saanea the witch is standing next to her lover, the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
"There's a lot of them off the road and in the woods now" says Saanea the witch.
"Good" quietly says Tamric Drubine the field commander, as next to him, stands his lover Saanea, with her eyes closed, looking through the eyes of her familiar.
Which at the moment is a falcon, flying over the woods to the north, that the enemy is coming through.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic looks to the north again, after his bitter rival Dorc da Orc, grunts then says "There's some of our cunts".
The member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che sees figures in black run out from the woods.
The former earl of Lé Dic nods as he realises they're scouts and rangers from the first army of Farque.
Bait for the enemy, to get them off the road, and have them come through the woods itself.
Percy slightly nods his head in understanding as he sees that field commander Drubine wants the enemy spread out as they come out of the woods.
The large, heavily armoured knight sees more and more of the enemy riders come out of the woods along the road, which goes to the southeast.
Whilst the waiting army from the lands Farque is more directly south of the woods.
As more of the Farqian scouts and rangers come running out of the woods, and start heading this way.
More and more of the enemy show up along the road. Eventually they start coming out of the woods too.
"Very good then, wot" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic after the field commander Tamric Drubine calls out orders in the elven language.
The former paladin dons his full helm, and puts a gauntleted hand on the hilt of the sword of knockdown.
Though the nobleborn knight despises magic, that doesn't stop him from having a powerful magical weapon, and an even more powerful magical shield. 
The large, heavily armoured knight from the kingdom of Druvic watches as some of the Farqian battlelines advance, then stop.
It's those in the middle of the lines, making themselves an attractive target for the enemy who are coming out of the woods.
Percy glances over at his bitter rival Dorc da Orc, and sees the large ork is intently watching the crown's forces coming out of the woods. Both on the road, and from out of the treeline.
The former earl of Lé Dic slightly nods his full helmed head as he sees how stretched out the enemy are.
As the wood is easily a few miles across from east to west. And that there's even enemy soldiers coming out of the trees at the western end of the woods.
Whilst the road the majority of their army is traveling on. Comes out on the southeast corner of the woods.
"Now let's see if they attack as so" is what sir Percavelle Lé Dic hears Tamric Drubine quietly say.
The former paladin, just like his bitter rival the ork general, intently watches the enemy, to see what they do.
Now that they know that there's an opposing army just to the south of them.
"I do believe it is going to be a wonderful day today, wot" loudly murmurs Percy in a gleeful tone, as he and the others wait in anticipation for the battle to get underway . . . . . .