The Thick Of It 22.

Winter.

"Don't let them take me!" shouts the prisoner as he's hauled off down the hallway between a couple of local soldiers .
"Don't let them do what they did to Domore!" continues the prisoner, who is an officer in councilman Hirrye's army.
"You served with him Morris" adds the prisoner as he looks back down the hallway.
He then shouts out "By the gods what that green one did to him!".
One of the local soldiers dragging him away, slaps him across the back of the head.
The fight goes out of him then, and he slumps between the two soldiers taking him away.
The prisoner can be heard sobbing as they go around a corner, on the way to the nearby cells.
The adjunctant Morris, and commander Tracklen share a look. Then the two of them look over at the group who have just recently arrived here at the main council building. In the capital of the city-state of Kuradum.
Their leader, the lord Farque just shrugs his broad, heavily armoured shoulders in response to their look.
Then the commander of the local army, and his adjunctant share a look again.
As they both know how the mercenary army hired by the ruling council of Kuradum treat some of the prisoners they capture.
And they don't particularly want to know about whatever happened earlier today, wherever the group were.
After clearing his throat, Tracklen the Kuradian army commander says "I gather things were a success?".
"They were" replies lord Farque, who then says to the local army commander "Gather your staff".
"The council?" asks Tracklen, a man in his early thirties, the most senior of the army officers still loyal to the ruling council of Kuradum.
"No" says the undead warlord, who continues with "Your staff only".
The senior most army officer in the Kuradian council's army pauses for a moment, then nods his head, and says "Yes my lord".
In response to the large, heavily armoured deathlord telling him "Meet over in your rooms in the barracks" followed by "We'll be there soon".
The army commander and his adjunctant nod, then turn and head the otherway down the hallway.
Though not before looking one more time at the large green creature, that is undoubtedly an ork.
It's standing there with a wide grin upon it's broad, green brutish looking face.
Blood splattered across both it's face and body. A lot of it dried looking blood.
But plenty of it fresh. As blood drips from it onto the hallway floor, here near the rear of the main council building.
Commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris don't say a word. Apart from when the army commander gives an order to one of the pair of pages following him and his adjunctant.
The local army officers remain silent as they round the corner, watching the young page hurry away infront of them.
They don't speak again until they make their way out through a side door of the main council building, here in the heart of the city of Kuradum.
"What do you think that was all about?" quietly asks the adjunctant Morris.
"Not having any councillors?" says the army commander Tracklen.
"No" says the junior of the two officers, who follows that up with "What Harmit was going on about with Domore".
"Fairly obvious I'd say" is the quiet reply of the army commander, as the two of them, along with the following page, make their way through the gardens that lie to one side of the main council building.
On what's a cold, but clear winter's day here in the capital of the city-state.
"We've both seen what they do to the prisoners they take" says commander Tracklen who then adds in a slightly dry tone of voice "What prisoners they do take".
The junior officer nods his head in agreement to that. As the mercenary army from the lands Farque hardly takes prisoners at all.
As their lord is of the opinion wiping out the enemy is the best course of action during wartime.
"Seems to be working" says the commander of the ruling council's army in the war against the rebel councilman, Hirrye.
"We're getting reports of surrenders and others leaving the war" continues commander Tracklen, who follows that with "Kind of smart they let go a small number of prisoners who have witnessed what they do to the others they take".
The adjunctant nods his head in agreement to that as they enter one of the courtyards to the side of the army barracks.
They along with the following page, don't bother to go around to the parade grounds to get to the headquarters.
They just go through one of the barracks, entering through one of the side doors, and going out another on the otherside of the barracks.
The barracks, like most of them here in the center of the city, is fairly empty.
As most of the council's army are spread out across a lot of the city-state as they fight against councilman Hirrye's forces.
At most there's only five hundred soldiers in the capital of late. And though commander Tracklen was first against having so few of the loyalist army here in the capital.
He went along with lord Farque's plan to have so few here in the city of Kuradum.
A plan the foreign lord has yet to fully explain to the local army commander.
Though the senior most officer in the army loyal to the ruling council suspects the lord and ruler of the lands Farque has some elaborate plan with having so few of the loyalist army here in the capital.
They enter the headquarters, and the army commander and his adjunctant, along with the page, head to Tracklen's offices.
There they find a couple of the commander's staff already waiting for them.
Others start to arrive soon, well those still in the capital city on this cold but clear winter's day.
A short while later and the group of foreign mercenaries arrive. Some of them remain in the outer room. While the rest come into the main room,
Commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris share a look as they see the state of the large, green creature that's an ork.
It's no longer blood and gore splattered. It's now soaking wet, dripping water where it goes.
It has an absolutely murderous look upon it's broad, green, brutish looking face.
A look of disgust, mixed with anger. That's directed at the leader of the mercenaries, lord Farque.
Still, the ork, that stands seven and half foot tall, and must weigh well in excess of seven hundred pounds.
Goes and sits in a corner of the main office, when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque points there, and says something in the low, growling language that must be the ork tongue.
"What happened to the ork fellow" quietly says commander Tracklen to the elven envoy named Helbe, who along with lord Farque does most of the talking for the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
"He fell into one of those ornamental ponds in the gardens next to the main council building" is the reply from Helbe the elven thief.
"Fell?" asks the adjunctant Morris, who finds it hard to believe the ork would fall into anything it didn't want to.
"He had a helping hand" dryly says the highly talented elven magic user with a glance over at lord Farque, who is quietly discussing something with Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy at the open doorway between the main office, and the outer one.
After the large, heavily armoured deathlord speaks with the spy Tanith, who makes his way into the outer office.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque joins those around the table in the main office of the Kuradian army commander.
With commander Tracklen is his adjunctant Morris, as well as a trio of other officers in the loyalist army.
And with the undead warlord, and Helbe the elven thief, are other members of lord Farque's personal council. Mira Reinholt the mage, and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit. As well as the field commander Tamric Drubine.
While Dorc da Orc sits in a corner of the main office, feeling both angry and miserable for himself.
After the deathlord of Farque shoved him into one of the ornamental ponds in the grounds of the Kuradian city council.
After glancing at Helbe the elven thief, who tells him "All clear". Lord Farque points to one of the maps on the table.
"We wiped out one of their companies there at dawn" says the undead warlord pointing at a spot in the northeast corner of the city-state.
"Interesting thing is that the entire company was made up of local soldiers, defectors from your army" adds the large, heavily armoured deathlord, who continues with "Not a single mercenary with them".
Commander Tracklen frowns when he hears that. For the enemy tends to have mixed companies. Both local soldiers and mercenaries.
True on the frontlines, local companies amongst councilman Hirrye's forces may fight by themselves.
But you can guarantee the next company along will be a mercenary company that's been hired by the so called duke of Kuradum.
"Seems Hirrye doesn't entirely trust those he's hired" says the lord of the death realm.
The undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, then adds "Especially the foreign mercenary companies he's hired".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque points at two other spots on the map that shows all of the city-state of Kuradum, and he says "One more is here in the east, and another in the south".
Lord Farque, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer continues on with "And there's at least three other of these companies across the nation, where exactly, we're not sure" followed by "We hope to find out soon".
Commander Tracklen nods, then asks "What's their purpose?" the senior Kuradian army officer loyal to the ruling council continues with "He's up to something with those companies that are locals only".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord looks over at Tamric Drubine and nods his full helmed head.
The young field commander Tamric Drubine steps closer to the table, and says "Quite simple really".
Then he goes on to explain what these specific companies in councilman Hirrye's army are up to.
The Kuradian army commander, his adjunctant, and three other loyalist officers listen in silence.
Then after field commander Drubine stops speaking and steps back, commander Tracklen mutters "Son of a bitch".
"Indeed" dryly says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "That's why even with our attacks upon their supply lines and wagons, they're still able to resupply a lot of their army this winter".
The Kuradian army commander grunts in dissatisfaction, while next to him, his adjunctant shakes his head in disgust.
Then they both look at the maps on the tables as lord Farque says "That's why he was in the freelands, the unruled lands to the north".
The undead warlord continues with "He's got those up in Simsar doing his bidding" followed by "I suspect he's doing the same with the unruled lands to the east, and those directly to the south as well".
"Makes sense" mutters the army commander Tracklen, who then adds "No wonder we've had trouble getting supplies, as well as hiring mercenaries from the surrounding freelands" followed by "We've had to go further afield to get them".
Draugadrottin nods his full helmed head in agreement to that, then he says "What are we going to do?.
Followed by "We're going to change things, that's what we're going to do".
In response to the Kuradian army commander asking him "What are we going to do about it?".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then looks at the elven envoy, and says to him  "Tell them".
Helbe the elven thief nods his white hooded head, then he tells commander Tracklen, the adjunctant Morris, and the trio of local officers who are part of Tracklen's staff.
What they're going to do about these latest developments that they've learned about councilman Hirrye's plans in his attempt to overthrow the ruling council of Kuradum, and become the sole ruler of the city-state . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 21.

Winter.

"Save ten to a dozen of them" quietly says Tamric Drubine the field commander in the elven language, who then adds "Kill the rest".
"Yes field commander" says the captain in the scouts and rangers division as he looks over at enemy survivors of the battle at dawn.
There's about forty of them sitting dejected on the snow covered ground. Guarded by a number of black clad Farqian soldiers.
"Any mercs with this force?" asks the young noble from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"Not a single one" is the reply of the captain in the scouts and rangers division.
"Interesting" murmurs field commander Drubine, who then says "Have those you're going to spare brought into the woods".
The captain nods that he will, and goes and speaks to a couple of his officers who are standing nearby, waiting for orders.
While the senior officer, turns and heads to the woods. At the edge of which, stands his lover, Saanea the witch who is waiting for him.
"Find out anything useful?" quietly asks Saanea the witch as they make their way between the trees.
"A little" replies Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
The field commander who is glad it's a little bit warmer here in the woods. As it's a bitterly cold morning here in this part of the northeast of the city-state of Kuradum.
Then tells his lover the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills "Not a single mercenary with that lot".
"That is a little odd" murmurs the pretty looking witch with the short, dark hair.
As the enemy, those in the forces of the rebellious councilman, Hirrye. Tend to have integrated forces. Where the army loyal to him, serve alongside mercenaries, usually companies. Mostly from outside the city-state of Kuradum.
The lovers, spot a handful of Farqian soldiers up ahead in the woods. They're at the edge of the clearing where the rest of the group are. Along with the trio of enemy officers who were captured during the battle at dawn.
Lord Farque turns and asks "Well?" as Tamric Drubine and Saanea the witch enter the small clearing.
"Having ten or so brought in here" replies the field commander who like the undead warlord is speaking elven.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord then raises an eyebrow when the senior officer in his armies tells him "Did find out something useful though" followed by "That lot didn't have a single mercenary with them".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque turns and looks at Helbe the elven thief, who is sitting on a fallen log.
Next to where the trio of bound prisoners are sitting on the snow covered ground.
The elven magic user looks sharply at the trio of enemy prisoners, then after a moment he slowly nods his hooded head.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel gets up and walks across the clearing to where the deathlord of Farque is standing with field commander Drubine.
"Well, well, well" quietly says Helbe the elven thief.
"What did you miss?" asks the undead being who has the name of Draugadrottin that the people of his lands also know him by.
The elven masterthief sourly smiles at that, then he quietly says "Seems the councilman doesn't entirely trust the mercs he's being hiring".
The highly talented elven magic user follows that with "He's got a number of companies within his force that's local soldiers from the army only".
The member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel then says "This lot we attacked this morning is one of them".
"This why they're all the way up here, away from everyone else, and the action going on elsewhere?" asks the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Whose third army has been hired by the ruling council of Kuradum in their fight against the rebel councilman, Hirrye.
"It is" says the elven master assassin, who then goes onto explain what those specific companies in the army of the so called duke of Kuradum are up to.
Both lord Farque and Tamric Drubine, as well Mira Reinholt the mage and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit who have walked over.
Listen in silence to what the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel has to say.
After the elven masterthief explains things, the undead warlord turns as he's sensed who has been approaching the clearing.
"Have them stand there in a line" orders the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
"Yes my lord" says the captain of the scouts and rangers company, who has the dozen prisoners line up on one side of the clearing.
With an equal amount of black clad Farqian soldiers standing behind each of them.
"Does it matter which one we take back?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"Not really" replies the lord of the death realm, next to him, the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel says "They'll be satisfied with anyone of the three to be publicly executed".
Draugadrottin nods his full helmed head, then gives a number of orders to the Farqian soldiers who were already waiting just back amongst the trees.
Two of them come forward, and take hold of two of the bound prisoners sitting on the ground next to the fallen log.
Of the two enemy officers, the junior most one is taken over to the dozen enemy soldiers who are lined up.
While the other, is taken over to stand next to Tovis the war engineer and Zam the ex mercenary.
Both of whom take a hold of him from the black clad Farqian ranger.
"Dorc make an example of him" says lord Farque in the common language, as he nods his full helmed head to where the remaining enemy officer is still sitting on the ground.
The large ork, who is sitting against the base of a nearby tree, grunts then gets up.
"Fucken how?" asks Dorc da Orc also in the common language, that's spoken right around the world of Volunell.
The undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer.
Says something in orkish to the general in his armies, which causes the ork warleader to chuckle, and say "Get some" in common.
Wincing, Lisell Maera the scout quietly says to Saanea the witch "You probably don't want to watch this".
She turns, and walks back amongst the trees. Following Shur Kee the monk who has a fair idea at what's about to happen.
One glance at the gleeful look upon the broad, green, feral looking face of Dorc da Orc.
Is enough for Saanea the witch to turn, and walk from the clearing, and go back amongst the trees.
All of those in the clearing, and at the edge of it. Watch the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, cross the clearing in just a handful of steps to where the enemy officer is sitting on the snow covered ground.
The officer, who happens to be the commander of the company that was defeated in battle this morning.
Tries to scoot back and away. But he's got no chance when the ork general takes a hold of him with a single hand.
Dorc da Orc, or Dorkindle which is his given name. Shoves the enemy officer over, rolling him onto his stomach.
The large ork puts a boot on the middle of his back, not standing on him at all really, as that would instantly break his back and kill him.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks stands on him enough so that he's pinned there, and can't move around.
Taking a weapon from his belt, a wicked looking curved dagger. The ork warleader looks over at Mira Reinholt the mage as he holds up the dagger and says "Hey killer, 'member this?".
Followed by a laugh, that sounds like a deep, rumbling cackle more than anything else.
Rolling his eyes, Mira Reinholt the mage loudly mutters in elven "Hell, it's been twenty years, you'd think he'd let it drop by now".
"Well you shouldn't of did what you fucking did" quietly says lord Farque in a cold tone of voice.
Which causes the once powerful mage to grimace, and fall silent.
While both Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit and Tamric Drubine the field commander to glance sideways at the mage in the black hooded cloak.
They, like most of the group, know what Mira Reinholt did over two decades ago when he betrayed lord Farque and Dorc da Orc during the battle of Vexil.
The city-state in the central region of the Southlands, that is the mage Reinholt's homeland.
And though Dorc da Orc often brings it up. Usually to make fun of the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
And how the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, and the lord and ruler of the lands Farque exacted their revenge upon the Vexilian mage in exile.
Lord Farque on the other hand, hardly ever mentions it. Probably only handful of times in the more than two decades since it happened.
Just now, is one of the few times the undead warlord has even mentioned it.
The sudden drop in the air temperature on this side of the clearing is testament of what the deathlord of Farque still thinks about it over twenty years later.
They go back to watching what Dorc da Orc is doing on the otherside of the small clearing in the woods.
The warleader of the ork race has stripped the cloak off the prisoner. And is now cutting the cloak up. Making strips out of it.
"Ah shit" mutters Tamric Drubine, who like Mira Reinholt the mage, Helbe the elven thief, and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit. Has figured out what the large ork is about to do.
So have the Farqian soldiers. Some of whom have been around the ork weaponsmith a number of times, to know what he's capable of.
The ork general's bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic figures out what the large ork is about to do as well.
When he sees what the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world is doing now.
As the large ork starts tying the first of the strips of cloth. This one around the left arm of the prisoner, above the elbow.
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic turns and walks away, loudly muttering about the filthy green demon who is his arch nemesis.
"You might not want to watch this" quietly says Tovis the war engineer to Zam the ex mercenary.
Next to them, Beldane the cleric nods his head in agreement as they watch Dorkindle tie the strips of cloth around the limbs of the prisoner sitting on the ground.
Meanwhile the enemy officer standing in between Tovis and Zam, who at first had confused look on his face as to what's happening to his comrade.
Now has a look of fear on his face as he realises what's about to happen.
"Make them watch" quietly orders lord Farque in the elven language as he looks over at the line of a dozen enemy soldiers, with the other officer who was taken prisoner during the battle.
Some of them have figured out what's about to happen. And they're looking down at the snow covered ground infront of them.
Or up at the clear blue sky, on what's a bitterly cold winters morning in this part of the northeast of the city-state of Kuradum.
The Farqian soldiers behind them grab the back of their necks, and heads, forcing them to watch what's happening on the far side of the clearing.
As Dorc da Orc, who has tied the strips of cloth tightly above the elbows and knees of the prisoner on the ground, who he's propped up into a sitting position.
Then with one clean cut, uses the wicked looking curved dagger to cut off the left arm of the prisoner below the elbow. A cut so clean it goes through both flesh and bone with ease.
Lord Farque quietly says to field commander Drubine "After that fucking psycho finishes up, have the captain send that lot on their way".
The undead warlord who has just nodded his full helmed head at the dozen enemy soldiers, and the junior officer standing with them, then adds "Send them on their way to the town to the southeast of here".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque follows that with "The sooner word spreads of what's happened here, and what we do to those we take prisoner, the better".
As the ork warleader, who is pinching the left shoulder of the prisoner he's cutting apart.
Keeping the man conscious, as the large ork chuckles and holds up the half an arm he's already cut off, which he starts chewing on infront of the prisoner sitting on the ground.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord continues with "We'll take the other one to the capital so the council can publicly hang him".
Tamric Drubine, along with the others nod their heads at that.
As across the clearing, Dorkindle who knows exactly how to stop the blood flow from a human. Well, slow it down enough so they don't bleed out and die on him as he cuts them apart.
Has a thoughtful look upon his broad, green brutish looking face as gnaws upon the prisoners arm. Who is screaming in pain and fear behind the cloth stuffed into his mouth.
The ork general is wondering what he should cut off next. The other arm below the elbow. Or maybe one of the legs, below the knee.
As he quickly chews on the arm he's already cut off. Dorc da Orc grins as he decides on cutting off the prisoner's other arm before he cuts off the man's legs . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 20.

Winter.

One moment there's silence in the darkness before dawn.
Then there's the bright light of a silent explosion.
Sending snow, tents, and bodies flying in all directions.
Zam the ex mercenary lifts his head up quickly. And he sees the outline of bodies hurtling through the air against the bright white light of the explosion that looks like a sun hanging just above the ground.
The teenager from here in the city-state of Kuradum, never knew explosions could be silent. But now he does.
Then the newest member of the group flinches as he lies there on the snow covered crowd.
As a second explosion occurs. This one you definitely can hear as the second mageglobe created by Mira Reinholt the mage comes to the end of it's existence.
This explosion is more conventional. Having flames mixed up in the debris that mushrooms up into the predawn sky.
There's another brief pause, then Zam the ex mercenary gets up and is moving after Tovis the war engineer quietly says to him "Go".
Up and down the treeline, black clad soldiers from the third army of Farque are moving, and advancing on the enemy position.
Just as Zam hears a growl from behind and to his left. The war engineer Tovis grabs him by the right arm, and hauls the ex mercenary sideways towards him.
"Stay behind them" says the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic as Dorc da Orc followed closely by sir Percavelle Lé Dic go by as they hurry towards the enemy camp they're attacking.
With the large ork growling once again as he hurries by. Moving quickly through the snow that's thick on the ground.
Lord Farque goes by next, and the war engineer who is a captain in the armies of Farque quickly says to Zam "Get behind him".
After the undead warlord says something in elven. A language that the ex mercenary only began learning in the autumn. And is no way proficient in yet.
The snow is thick on the ground, at least calf deep, and knee deep in places.
Zam finds it relatively easy going through it now as he and Tovis the war engineer closely follow the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
As up ahead, Dorc da Orc just cuts through the snow, it goes flying from him, creating a path so that the others can follow.
They cover the fifty yards to the enemy camp in no time as the darkness before dawn gives way to the burgeoning light of false dawn.
Zam nods his head yes when next to him Tovis nods at lord Farque infront of them, and says "Stay close".
Up ahead Dorc da Orc has picked up an enemy soldier who has crawled out from his collapsed tent, wondering what's happening.
The large ork bites the local soldier in the army of councilman Hirrye in the head, tearing the front of the man's face off.
The ork warleader biffs the faceless body away to the left, where it crashes, and collapses one of the tents that's actually still standing.
Which is a bit of a rarity, as most of the tents have at least partially collapsed, or fully collapsed after the heavy snowfall during the night.
Zam draws his sword, while next to him Tovis the war engineer has taken his hammer from it's belt sling.
The two of them follow behind the large, heavily armoured figure of the deathlord of Farque.
They look away to their left as a flash of white appears, followed by a low sounding thud as there's another explosion.
"Don't worry" says lord Farque from infront of the ex mercenary from the city-state of Kuradum, and the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic.
"The one spellcaster they had is dead" continues the undead warlord, who follows that with "Only ours are left".
The lord of the death realm steps over an enemy soldier who has been decapitated by sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Then the undead being who also has the name of Draugadrottin that his people know him by. Calls out something in orkish to Dorc da Orc.
The ork weaponsmith grunts and nods without looking back, then he starts heading more to the left than the way they were heading.
Infront of Zam and Tovis, the large, heavily armoured deathlord gestures to their right.
The next moment, from behind a collapsed tent, a trio of enemy soldiers rush them.
The first is dropped by a hammer blow to the chest from the war engineer, who is a captain in the armies of Farque.
While the second almost stumbles forward onto the tip of Zam's sword. With the blade killing the enemy soldier basically instantly as it cuts through the man's neck and throat.
The third goes flying backwards, in the direction he came from after a no look backhand punch from the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"Percy head to the left!" calls out the undead warlord to the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic who is about twenty yards infront of them.
The member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, nods his full helmed head.
Then after the former earl of Lé Dic, punches an enemy soldier in the face with his gauntleted right hand.
Shattering the man's nose and teeth apart, dropping him to the ground. Where sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Kicks the downed enemy soldier, in the side of the head, with his right steel boot.
"Take that you vile villain!" declares sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who then hurries so that he can keep up with his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc.
He's followed by the large, heavily armoured deathlord, the war engineer and the ex mercenary.
As they head to wherever the ork warleader is going. Enemy soldiers, bleary eyed, half of whom were deep asleep when the explosions occurred.
Stumble from their collapsed and partially collapsed tents.
Only to be killed by the five of them, as well as the other members of the group.
And the hundred and fifty or so soldiers from the third army of Farque. Predominantly from the scouts and rangers division.
Who have accompanied their lord and ruler on this attack. Here in the northeast of the city-state of Kuradum.
After swapping his sword from his gloved right hand to his left. Zam swings his weapon out to his left side.
The blade catches an injured enemy soldier, who was caught up in the explosions. In the side of the head.
The local man fighting on the side of the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye.
Drops to the snow covered ground with his jaw shattered and his skull cracked.
Zam pays him no more thought, as he and the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic.
Follow closely behind the undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer.
As the first light of the new day starts to appear on the horizon to the east.
Zam, who hails from Kuradum, the capital of the city-state. Hops over a body that looks like it's been torn in half.
The young man from the city of Kuradum figures the enemy soldier was hacked in half by Dorc da Orc. Who is holding a wicked looking axe at the moment.
The ex mercenary, who isn't exactly short at six feet in height. Is pretty sure the ork general's weapon is longer than he is tall.
With the blade at least being up to waist high on Zam.
Infront of him and the war engineer, who previously served in the army of a baron Harkonin in the kingdom of Druvic.
Lord Farque calls out something in the ork language to Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name.
The son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks loudly grunts in reply.
Then the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Runs directly at one of the tents that has partially collapsed.
"Follow him" loudly says the undead warlord to the nobleborn knight, the war engineer and the ex mercenary.
As the ork weaponsmith smashes into the tent and knocks it down. The trio of enemy soldiers who were in it, and were trying to get out of it after hearing the explosions earlier.
Are trampled by the warleader of the ork race who is a general in the armies of Farque.
With Tovis beside him, Zam runs across the crumpled tent. He slightly winces as he stands on someone in the collapsed tent who lets out a feeble sounding groan.
Then after he and the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic.
Make their way off the collapsed tent behind the undead warlord.
With a quick look around, Zam sees that they're near the center of the enemy camp.
There's an opening, where just a few tents stand upright after the heavy snowfall during the night.
Across from there, he spots some of the others in the group.
While lord Farque, after saying something in the ork language.
Reverts back to the common and adds "We'll do what's necessary".
The undead warlord gestures towards one of the nearby tents, and he says to them "That one".
The ork warleader is already heading that way. The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world kicks out at an enemy soldier who is crawling across the snow covered ground.
Zam grimaces as he clearly hears the thud of the impact of the kick from the large ork.
Away to their left, a pair of enemy soldiers rush towards them. Only for the two of them to drop to the ground.
One with an arrow in his back, and the other with a crossbow bolt through the back of his neck, and out his throat.
The Kuradian ex mercenary spots Lisell Maera the scout, and Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy heading this way.
The scout Maera with her crossbow in hand, and the spy Tanith who shoulders his bow as he approaches.
As the battle at dawn rages on all around. In the middle of the camp, there's a pocket of tranquility, so to speak.
With little in the way of actual fighting going on at the moment. "Wait out here" says lord Farque in common after he says the same thing in the ork language to Dorc da Orc.
Draugadrottin enters the large tent, and a few moments later he calls out "Zam, Tovis get in here".
The ex mercenary and the war engineer share a look, then they enter the large tent, which is the command tent for this particular force in the army of councilman Hirrye.
"Take one" says the large, heavily armoured deathlord as he waves a hand at the trio of bodies on the tent floor.
Taking a closer look, the young man from the city of Kuradum insees that the enemy officers are unconscious.
"What happened to them?" asks Zam the ex mercenary.
"Helbe i guess" dryly says Tovis the war engineer as he goes to lift up one of the three unconscious enemy officers.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque who is reading maps and documents on the table off to one side.
Nods his full helmed head in agreement with what the young Druvician engineer just said.
Taking a map off the table, as well as a couple of missives, that he stuffs behind his belt.
The lord of the death realm then says "Time to go". And he comes over and picks up the last of the unconscious enemy officers.
Zam steps outside with the unconscious enemy over his right shoulder.
He finds that the rest of the group, with the exception of Helbe the elven thief.
Have made it here to the command tent of that enemy.
The ex mercenary steps to one side, as Tovis the war engineer makes his way back outside, followed by the undead warlord.
In a relative spot of calm in the midst of the dawn battle, Zam the ex mercenary after shrugging to settle the knocked out enemy officer more comfortably over his right shoulder,. quietly says to no one in particular "I guess we head back now?".
"You guessed right" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Who then looks at Dorc da Orc, then sir Percavelle Lé Dic, and tells the ork general, and the nobleborn knight "You two, lead the group back" . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 19.

Winter.

Dorc da Orc looks away to his right and scowls when he spots his bitter rival sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
The large, heavily armoured knight, like the ork warleader. Is flat on the ground, behind cover. Looking through the trees up ahead.
Well, in the case of the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic. He's peering ahead, as he can't exactly see much in the darkness before dawn.
As he lies there on the snow covered ground, feeling slightly comfortable for once.
The large ork can't help but shake his head in disgust at always being paired lately with the former earl of Lé Dic.
The reason why stands about thirty yards infront of the two of them.
Lord Farque, who the ork weaponsmith can clearly see. And who sir Percavelle Lé Dic can barely glimpse in the predawn darkness.
The group left the city of Kuradum a little earlier. Now they're in the northeast of the city-state.
Having come here by way of a gateway cast by Beldane the cleric.
They've met up with a contingent from the third army of Farque. Predominantly scouts and rangers, and a number of light infantry.
Who are fighting behind enemy lines. Here in what's essentially a civil war in the city-state of Kuradum.
A civil war between the so called duke of Kuradum, councilman Hirrye. Who is hell bent on changing the way in which the city-state is ruled.
And the ruling council of Kuradum, led by councilman Sammis. Who are determined to keep the status quo.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name. Is just about to reach out to grab a nearby branch, that's broken off from the tree to his left.
And biff it at his bitter rival, who is a member of the order of The Knights of Saint Mar-che.
When he smells someone approaching from up ahead. The large ork softly grunts as he recognises who it is.
Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy walks back to where lord Farque is waiting.
The spy from the elven principality of Alínlae stops next to the tree the undead warlord is standing beside.
"They're there alright" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who continues with "Pretty much where you said they would be".
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, then says "He is".
In reply to lord Farque saying in a slightly dry tone of voice "He's having a look around isn't he?" followed by "Amongst them?".
Dorc da Orc sourly smiles as up ahead, lord Farque and Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy are speaking in the elven language. Which obviously he doesn't understand.
The same for sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who like Dorkindle. Has absolutely no idea what the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae are discussing.
The large ork who is starting to get bored, reaches out to take a hold of the fallen tree branch.
When he grunts, and pulls his hand back after lord Farque, without looking back, quietly says in the common language "Don't do that Dorc".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group doesn't know what the ork warleader was about to do.
But whatever it was, he can't help but grin at the large ork being reprimanded by the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Then both the ork who is a general in the armies of Farque, and the knight who is a former paladin.
Both grunt when they hear the undead warlord quietly tell them "You two get up here".
The large ork who is the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
And the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's lands in the southeast of the kingdom of Druvic.
Both grunt as they get up off the snowy ground, then they hurry forward to where the large, heavily armoured deathlord and the elven spy are standing.
The bitter rivals, both of whom want to say something, remain silent after the lord of the death realm glances at the two of them and says "Quiet".
Dorc and Percy are both impatient as they stand there, while the lord of the lands Farque and the spy Tanith converse in elven for a little bit longer, in the darkness before dawn.
Then the undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, quietly says in the common language to the bitter rivals "Let's go". The deathlord of Farque then adds "Keep quiet".
Then with Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more often than not, called by those who know him well.
Leading the way, they move off. Heading roughly northwards through the trees, here in the northeast of the city-state of Kuradum.
For the nobleborn knight who is originally from the kingdom of Druvic.
He doesn't exactly know what they're doing, or where they're going. Apart from that the enemy are nearby.
Not so Dorkindle, who might not of been told what they're doing, and where they're going.
He's still got the advantage of his eyesight, hearing, and most importantly his sense of smell.
And even with his limited capacity of thought. After all, he is an ork. And even though he's a genius of his race.
That's not saying much considering the entire race is mentally unstable, and absolutely psychotic.
He can deduce that they're heading north, and that the rest of the group are that way.
As are the contingent of Farqian soldiers, about a hundred and fifty of them. Who are spread out across a hundred yards or so.
While beyond them, the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
Can easily smell the presence of the enemy. Who are in camp. And easily outnumber the Farqian forces.
As it gets closer and closer to dawn, the spy Tanith leads them to where some of the group are waiting.
They stop next to Tamric Drubine the field commander, Saanea the witch. Along with Tovis the war engineer, and the newest member of the group. The ex mercenary Zam, who is from here in the city-state of Kuradum.
"What do you see Dorc?" quietly asks lord Farque who gestures away to the north of them.
And though the ork warleader wants to automatically reply with "Cunts". He knows the lord and ruler of the lands Farque is referring to something else.
Looking out from the woods they're at the northern edge of, the large ork studies the enemy camp that's only fifty yards away, if that.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world. Is definitely mentally unstable and a raving psychopath.
But for all that, he can size up a battle, or potential one such as now, in an instant.
And even more impressive, during a battle he can clearly see the ebb and flow of a battle. How potential things may or may not turn out.
And though this skill he's always had. It's been expanded and fine tuned in the more than two decades he's been around the undead warlord, who has taught him.
Dorkindle immediately sees the enemy should of camped in the woods. Or at the least at the edge of it.
But he figures it must of been a mild day yesterday. And never suspected that their would be a heavy snowstorm during the night.
For though back amongst the trees, there's snow covering the ground.
Out in the open, to the north of the woods, the snow is thick on the ground.
And the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. Who he killed in an altercation between the two of them. Which was only fair, as she was trying to kill him at the time.
Can see a fair few number of tents in the camp have collapsed, or partially collapsed.
And though some have tried to put them back up during the night, most haven't.
The ork weaponsmith, who sometimes struggles to count to ten. And when he usually does count something, he gets it wrong.
Not so during battle, or just before a potential one in this case. And at a glance he can easily estimate, quite accurately at times, how many the enemy are.
Even now, with most of the enemy out of sight, in their partiality collapsed and collapsed tents. He knows how many there are in the camp.
In mere moments the ork warleader works out what he thinks. And in his native language, the general in the armies of Farque explains to the large, heavily armoured deathlord what they should do.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic sourly smiles as his bitter rival the ork weaponsmith starts speaking to lord Farque in the unintelligible language of the orks.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, where he is the former earl of Lé Dic. His family's lands that are now in the hands of his young niece.
Figures the two of them are chatting about the enemy camp he can just make out on the snow covered ground less than fifty yards away from the edge of the woods.
"Of course you would fucking suggest that cunt" dryly says lord Farque in the ork language, who then adds "Because you're a big fucking lazy cunt at times".
Dorkindle goes to protest that, even though it's true, and it is the reason why he suggested it.
But he stays quiet when the undead warlord raises a gauntleted hand, and says "None of your fucking shit excuses".
The undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, then adds "It's basically good enough, we'll fucking try it".
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world briefly grins, then he scowls when the lord of the death realm tells him "Though with one fucking change".
Draugadrottin continues with "We've got the fucking advantage of spellcaster cunts with us, fucking use them".
The ork warleader who is of the opinion that using magic is cheating. Stands there with a sour look upon his broad, green, brutish looking face as the lord and ruler of the lands Farque tells him what the spellcasters will do.
The large ork grunts, then he says "Why the fuck should i?".
After the deathlord of Farque says to him "Now tell Tam the fucking plan".
Des'tier stares at the warleader of the ork race for a moment or two, before he says "Because he's the field commander" followed by "And you're a general in my armies" he briefly pauses then adds "So fucking act like one".
That gives Dorc da Orc pause. He doesn't know why. It's not the usual reprimand that lord Farque gives him.
Those ones have a definite undertone of violence to them that the ork weaponsmith definitely understands.
This is something else. Something he's not accustomed to. And frankly something he doesn't particularly like.
Feeling disappointment in himself for one of the few times in his life. A feeling he doesn't understand, or know how to describe.
The ork general turns to Tamric Drubine and starts explaining to him the plan of attack upon the enemy camp.
The lord Farque rolls his eyes, then quietly says in orkish "In fucking common Dorc".
Dorkindle not realising he was still speaking in his native tongue. Grunts, then he switches to the common language, and he tells the young field commander in the armies of Farque the plan of attack . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 18.

Winter.

Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy is dozing against the base of a tree. When one of the scouts, who is also a spy under his command.
Walks up, crouches down beside him and quietly says in the elven language "Message in".
The human spy in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque adds "We've got a link".
And he hands the spy Tanith a small piece of parchment. Then he gets up and walks away after the elven spy nods his hooded head.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. Opens the folded piece of parchment, then reads it.
The elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae gets up, and makes his way further amongst the trees.
"Here, and here" quietly says lord Farque as he points at the map that Tamric Drubine the field commander is holding open.
"Have some more of the locals go there?" asks Helbe the elven thief, who along with Mira Reinholt the mage, and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit.
Are standing with the undead warlord and the young field commander.
Here in a grove of trees, to the east of the city of Kuradum. Infact not that far from it, less than half a dozen miles from the city.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord turns and quietly says "What is it?".
As Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy approaches through the trees of the grove.
"We've got a lead" is the quiet reply of the elven spy who is a battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"Missive just in from the city" adds the elf in the grey hooded cloak who hands the small folded piece of parchment to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The undead warlord unfolds it and reads it, then he hands the message to Helbe the elven thief, who reads it too.
"Think we can trace it back?" asks the undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"Maybe" says Dalinvardèl Tanith, his fellow elf, Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head in agreement with the elven spy.
"Might be best if we got the information straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak" says Helbe the elven thief.
"Bring him in?" asks the lord of the death realm, whose name in elven, Des'tier. Means, The Destroyer.
"Might spook them" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"Might be best if i just read his mind" continues the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules Laerel.
Nodding his full helmed head, lord Farque says "We'll do that then".
Draugadrottin continues with "We'll head back to the city".
"And this my lord?" asks Tamric Drubine the field commander who gestures at the map he's holding.
"Have commander Tracklen send two hundred and fifty of his men to the frontlines" says the large, heavily armoured deathlord who follows that with "To the southern section, to help with the positions of their's we've taken over".
The nobleborn young man from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque nods his head that he will.
Then they make their way to where the rest of the group are waiting here in grove of trees, on one of the farms to the east of the city of Kuradum.
They return to the city fairly quickly through a gateway that Beldane the cleric casts to the inn they're staying at.
From there, the entire group heads out onto the city streets. On what's a clear and sunny, though cold winter's day here in the city of Kuradum.
Though the group has split up into pairs, and the odd trio. They all head in the same direction.
Out front, is Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy and Helbe the elven thief. The two elves are invisible thanks to a blur spell cast by the highly talented elven magic user who hails from the island principality of Laerel.
They're on a rooftop, and the spy from the elven principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more prominent noble households of his homeland.
Points away to the west of where they are, near the middle of the city.
"There" quietly says the elf who is a battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
"I see it" says Helbe the elven thief, who then shifts himself and the spy Tanith away.
They're on another rooftop, here in the west of the city of Kuradum.
The elven spy in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, crouches down.
While the elven masterthief who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel remains standing.
As the two of them look across a lane, into the building to their right.
And though it's a cold day today, a couple of windows on the second floor of the building across the lane. Are wide open, and by the looks of it, no one has closed the shutters for quite sometime.
"What are they watching?" murmurs Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy, who looks back in the direction the two of them have come from, then he nods his hooded head in understanding.
"Troop movement" quietly adds the battalion commander in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Nodding his own hooded head in agreement, Helbe the elven thief quietly says "None of them know".
As there's two men standing at one of the windows, and another at the next window along, in another of the rooms on the second floor across the lane.
"They're further in the building" quietly says the the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
Who then looks around in the surrounding area in this part of the city.
Then he nods and points away to their left, and quietly tells his fellow elf "There" followed by "That Nahor's home".
The elven master assassin who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque then adds "They've got a perfect view to his house too".
"Well, well, well" murmurs the spy Tanith, who then nods his grey hooded head as the elven princeling quietly says "I'll see what's happening in there".
The blurred and shielded elven magic user disappears even from Dalin's sight, as he makes his way into the two storey building across the lane.
While the elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he previously served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland. Continues to watch those at the open windows in the very same building.
The elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
Makes his way from room to room on the second floor of the building. Reading the minds of everyone in here.
While Narladene the ground pixie has flown through the floor, and made her way downstairs.
The elven master archer gains some useful tidbits of information. But not anything he came here to find out.
Then as the highly talented elven magic user walks down the hallway on the second floor.
Narladene the ground pixie reappears upon his right shoulder, and quietly whispers to him "He's downstairs".
The naturally magical creature who hails from the Sunreach Mountains points down to the right, and adds in a whisper "In that room there".
The blurred and shielded elven magic user nods his white hooded head, then he makes his way downstairs, and into the room that Narladene has indicated.
The elven master assassin finds a trio of men having a conversation, and he reads all three of their minds.
Especially the mind of who was described in the missive they received earlier, in a grove to the east of the city of Kuradum.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel after finding out everything he needs. He departs, and makes his way across the lane, and up onto the roof opposite. Where the blurred and shielded spy Tanith waits.
"Let's go" murmurs Helbe the elven thief when he appears beside Dalin.
"Found the trail back" quietly adds the elven master assassin, who continues with "And that latest message has already been delivered to that Nahor and others working for Hirrye in the city".
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae nods, then the highly talented elven spellcaster shifts the two of them away.
They find lord Farque at the edge of a nearby city square. With the undead warlord is Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord likes to keep the two most unpredictable members of the group close.
Then after Helbe the elven thief calls the other practitioners of magic here by way of a spell.
The rest of the group starts to show up. Eventually with Mira Reinholt the mage, along with Tovis the war engineer, and Zam the ex mercenary the last to show up.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque leads the group into one of the lanes off the square, here just to the west of the city center.
"The rider came in yesterday afternoon" quietly explains Helbe the elven thief to Draugadrottin, and the other members of the personal council to lord Farque.
"He came from one of the villages about twenty miles to the west of the city" continues the elven masterthief, who follows that with "Before that he came through a rift from the west of the city-state".
The highly talented elven spellcaster then says "He's one of Hirrye's personal guards".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel then explains how the so called duke of Kuradum.
Was up in the freelands to the north of the city-state yesterday morning. And that he quickly returned by way of a rift to western Kuradum.
Cast by a powerful sorceress by the name of Losmena. Who is fighting for his cause.
"Why did he come back?" asks the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"He's worried about the recent losses his forces have suffered" replies prince Helbenthril Raendril, who continues with "Especially along their frontlines".
The elven master assassin explains a number of other things, then he quietly says "That assistant to councilman Kolmar, Nahor knows everything".
The elven master archer continues with "Some others here in the city know bits and pieces of what's happening concerning Hirrye, but that Nahor knows all of it".
Helbe the elven thief briefly pauses before adding "Well, everything the personal guard delivered to him in that message".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head, then looking at the elven magic user in the group, he tells him "Have our agents keep an eye on all of them".
Des'tier continues with "Especially that personal guard to Hirrye as well as more on Nahor".
"Will do" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel with a nod of his hooded head.
Then Draugadrottin, the lord and ruler of the nation that bares his family name.
Gives a number of orders as to what he wants done on this cold, but sunny winter's day in the city of Kuradum . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 17.

Winter.

"Then you deal with it!" shouts councilman Hirrye as he storms out of the office.
There's almost a snarl upon the visage of the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum as he makes his way down the hallway.
Behind him in the office is the mayor of Simsar. One of the largest towns in the freelands to the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
The mayor shares a look with his deputy, who shrugs his shoulders and quietly says "Something must of happened".
"Obviously" says the mayor of Simsar as he wonders what's set the so called duke of Kuradum off this time.
"How bad?" quietly asks Hirrye of Kuradum as he enters the antechamber here in Simsar's mayoral house.
"Bad I'd say" is the quiet reply of Phogarn, the subcommander in Hirrye's army who has just given him the latest report of the war back in their homeland.
Phogarn, a tall, dark haired, lean man in his early thirties, who is one of the councilman's closest confidants.
Then tells the so called duke of Kuradum "Not just those towns in the east, but the frontlines as well".
Hirrye, a man in his early forties, of middling height, slightly overweight, but a shrewd looking individual for all that, scowls when he hears that from his confidante and friend.
"Where in the lines?" asks councilman Hirrye as they step outside, into the cold, windy day here in the town of Simsar.
Which lies about forty miles to the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
If you travel directly south from here, you'll eventually end up somewhere in the northwest of Kuradum.
The two men from the city of Kuradum are surrounded by soldiers from their homeland who were waiting outside for them.
The councilman gives them an order, and they all move off, with Hirrye deep in conversation with the subcommander in his rebel army.
"This new mercenary army those idiots on the council have hired?" quietly asks the self titled duke of Kuradum.
"Because i don't think your friend Tracklen could of achieved this" adds councilman Hirrye.
"I agree" says subcommander Phogarn after he gives one of the men an order.
As that soldier hurries ahead, the subcommander quietly says "This mercenary army is a force to be reckoned with".
Phogarn briefly pauses as he's yet to reveal the extent of the damage done to their forces over the last few days in their homeland to the man who wants to rule Kuradum by himself.
Then the subcommander in the faction of the Kuradian army whose loyalty lies with councilman Hirrye, quietly says "We've lost over a half of the southern quarter of our lines".
The so called duke of Kuradum almost trips when he hears that, as he can't quite believe what his confidante and friend has just told him.
Hirrye stares in disbelief at Phogarn for a moment or two as they walk through the town of Simsar, surrounded by soldiers in their army.
"Fuck" says the councilman from the city-state of Kuradum.
The subcommander in the rebellious army can only nod in agreement with that from his friend.
The so called duke of Kuradum is silent for a bit as they walk through town.
Then the councilman who has rebelled against the ruling council of Kuradum, quietly asks "What do you suggest?".
"That we get back as quickly as possible" says subcommander Phogarn, who follows that with "Losing the eastern towns like Salmet Crossing and Holmsted was bad enough".
The senior officer in the rebellion army who still doesn't know how that was achieved, continues with "But this attack upon our frontlines must be seen too" he then adds "We have to retaliate for the attacks on the line".
Councilman Hirrye nods his head in agreement, then he quietly says "That's what we'll do then".
Looking at the mast of one of their airships sticking up from behind some of the buildings they're heading towards.
The self styled duke of Kuradum, who hopes to disband the ruling council.
And replace it with what's essentially a ducal seat, or duchy. Where he will be the sole leader.
Bringing in a nobility, where a council voted upon by various segments of Kuradian society, is no longer needed.
"Instead of flying back" says councilman Hirrye, who continues on with "We'll go back the other way" followed by "Have Losmena ready for our departure".
"I got one of the men to run ahead and inform her" says subcommander Phogarn.
"Good" grunts the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum, who knows getting back to their homeland is the most important thing at the moment.
As they need to stop the momentum that the loyalist forces have had over the last few days.
Reading a book in her room, Losmena the sorceress looks up when there's a knock on her door.
It's one of the soldiers, who informs her that the councilman is returning from his meeting with the local mayor.
And that councilman Hirrye and subcommander Phogarn wish to discuss something with her.
"I'll be there shortly" says the sorceress Losmena, who after the soldier departs. She looks out the window of her room, at one of their airships next to the inn, on the edge of town where they're staying.
The sorceress suspects they'll be heading back to Kuradum.
She's proven right a little bit later. Though she was expecting they would be going back the same way they got here, by airship.
No, they're going back by way of a spell cast by her.
"What happened sir?" asks Losmena as they stand next to the pair of airships they traveled here from Kuradum on.
"Some defeats" sourly says councilman Hirrye, who then glances sideways at the spellcaster.
Losmena, is fairly young. Not yet twenty, still a teenager at eighteen years old.
Slim, with blonde hair she keeps fairly short. She knows that she's attractive. And that councilman Hirrye is attracted to her. Even though he's a married man with a family.
He's not the only one. More than a few of those close to the self titled duke of Kuradum.
Are attracted to the young practitioner of magic from the city of Kuradum.
But none of them have tried anything on her. For the simple reason she's quite a powerful sorceress.
Infact, she's more than quite powerful. She's a very powerful spellcaster.
Far more powerful than most sorcerers and sorceresses. The most common of all the human practitioners of the arcane arts.
Subcommander Phogarn walks over to them after speaking to a few of the officers.
And as the vast majority of those who traveled with them to here in the freelands to the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
Prepare to depart in the same way they got here. By the pair of airships moored on the ground next to the inn.
The councilman, his friend and confidante the subcommander, the sorceress, as well as the councilman's personal guards.
Depart the town of Simsar and the freelands by another way.
"Where to exactly?" asks the young attractive spellcaster from the city of Kuradum.
"One of the usual places in the east?" adds Losmena the sorceress.
Councilman Hirrye and subcommander Phogarn share a look.
Then the man who wants to rule Kuradum by himself, quietly says "Probably best if we didn't".
"Or anywhere in the south too" adds the subcommander in the army of the rebellion.
The sorceress lifts an arched eyebrow at that. As both the south and the east of city-state of Kuradum. Well most of it at least. Are under their control.
"Good chance a lot of the places in the east and the south have been infiltrated by the enemy" says subcommander Phogarn, who quietly continues with "Don't want them knowing when and where we've turned up".
Councilman Hirrye nods in agreement with that, then he quietly says "Somewhere in the northwest" followed by "Somewhere random that you know".
Even though the northwest, like a lot of the west of Kuradum, is still under the control of the ruling council.
Subcommander Phogarn is in agreement with the self appointed duke of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Very well" says Losmena the sorceress who continues with "I know a place".
She steps to one side, and starts casting. It's just mere moments and a rift starts to appear.
Once it forms, subcommander Phogarn sends a couple of the councilman's guards through first.
Then he goes through after them, followed by councilman Hirrye himself, and the rest of his personal guards.
The sorceress Losmena is the last through the rift that's she cast to a location in the northwest of the city-state of Kuradum.
"We need to get in contact with our friends in the capital" quietly says councilman Hirrye a short time later, as they wait in a small clearing in some woods.
It's far colder here in northwestern Kuradum, than it was up in the freelands to the north of the city-state.
"And others elsewhere" adds the former member of the ruling council of Kuradum.
The self styled duke of Kuradum is sitting on a large rock. With his travel satchel on his lap.
He's got out his writing instruments, and on small pieces of parchment, he's writing a couple of messages.
After completing the messages, and handing one each to a pair of his guards.
Hirrye nods to the sorceress Losmena, who creates a rift, that quickly forms.
One of the councilman's personal guards with a missive hurries through it.
The rift vanishes, and another one is quickly cast by the powerful sorceress from the city-state of Kuradum.
After the second rift disappears when the other personal guard to the councilman has passed through it.
Councilman Hirrye, subcommander Phogarn, the sorceress Losmena, and the councilman's remaining personal guards.
Move off, heading through the woods, that are located somewhere in the northwest of the city-state of Kuradum.
"Galmond Falls" says Losmena the sorceress, who follows that with "My grandmother grew up here".
"Thought it looked familiar" says subcommander Phogarn, who then adds "Came through here about a decade ago when i made rank".
"Never been here" says councilman Hirrye as they look down at the town in the valley below.
At the southern end is the falls the town is named after. While the town sits at the northern, the more elevated end of the valley.
"How far to Kilmond from here?" asks the self proclaimed duke of Kuradum, referring to one of the largest towns in the west of the city-state.
"Not far, a little over a day's ride from here" replies the powerful sorceress.
The subcommander in the rebel army nods in agreement, then he looks at his friend the councilman "Ride there?".
Hirrye, who started this rebellion for a number of reasons. Foremost he thinks he can rule better than the current ruling council of Kuradum.
Thinks about it for a few moments, then he nods and says "We ride".
Subcommander Phogarn after quickly thinking about something, says to the remaining personal guards of the councilman "You three go into town and buy some mounts".
After throwing a pouch of coins to the senior most guard, the subcommander adds "Get some travel supplies for us all too".
"Yes sir" says the senior most guard, who along with his two comrades, move off and head down the track to the town of Galmond Falls.
"They should be fine" quietly says Phogarn the subcommander, as the trio of soldiers aren't exactly in uniform. Nor for that matter is he. As they look more like traveling mercenaries than anything else.
The senior officer could of gone into town as well. But he thought better of it.
As he thinks it's best to keep close to councilman Hirrye. For a number of reasons. Foremost to protect the man who wishes to rule the city-state of Kuradum. And not just from threats, but also from himself.
As Phogarn has seen how the councilman has a growing infatuation with the sorceress Losmena, that's bordering on being obsessive.
The subcommander doesn't want the councilman doing something he regrets.
As for the sorceress herself. Phogarn doesn't know if she suspects councilman Hirrye is infatuated with her. But he has a feeling that she does.
After all, subcommander Phogarn as he follows the two of them back amongst the trees to wait for the guards to return. Won't let the councilman be left alone with her at anytime.
Even the attractive, young, and relatively inexperienced sorceress must of noticed this by now . . . . . .

The Thick Of It 16.

Winter.

Zam the ex mercenary almost jumps in fright when something grabs his right ankle.
The young man from the city of Kuradum swings his sword down behind him.
And is rewarded with a groan of pain from the enemy soldier at the bottom of the trench who just grabbed him.
Zam turns, then stabs down with his blade, killing the wounded soldier serving in the forces of councilman Hirrye.
"Zam you okay?" asks Tovis the war engineer who looks down into the trench he's next to.
"Yeah good" is the reply of Zam the ex mercenary, who takes the offered hand of the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic, who helps him up and out of the trench.
Zam looks around as he takes a few deep breaths, and with all three moons up in the night sky at the moment.
He can see that the enemy lines here have been absolutely devastated from the nighttime attack.
Looking off to the west, the ex mercenary asks the war engineer "Where's that lot off to?".
"To go and get that lot of their's over there" replies Tovis, who is a captain in the armies of Farque.
The young engineer who previously served a certain baron Harkonin in his homeland of Druvic, gestures away to the loyalist battlelines three quarters of a mile away to the west, as he says "They'll bring that lot over here".
The war engineer nods for Zam to follow him, and as they walk northwards, Tovis quietly tells the young man from here in the city-state of Kuradum "The enemy are going to be in for a surprise at this end of their lines".
Gesturing at the trenches they're passing, then at the enemy camp just fifty yards away to the east, on either side of the road.
The captain who commands an engineering corp in the armies of Farque, says "If they haven't been already".
As he walks alongside Tovis, Zam quietly asks him "Are we going somewhere?".
As he spots a number of Farqian soldiers up ahead, are starting to gather.
They briefly pause as an injured soldier from the lands Farque is carried away by two of his comrades.
Then when they get underway again, the war engineer quietly says "We are".
"Prepare to move out once that lot from over there start showing up" says Tamric Drubine the field commander to some of the officers.
The senior officer in the armies of Farque after he dismisses the officers, glances up into the night sky.
And is pretty certain that the snowfall is much lighter than it was earlier in the night.
The nobleborn young man originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. Nods to Tovis the war engineer and Zam the ex mercenary who walk up to where he's standing on a pile of snow next to one of the trenches.
"The others are this way" says the field commander in the armies of Farque.
"Dorc!" yells Lisell Maera the scout in disgust, who quickly backs away.
"Dorc needs a shit" states Dorc da Orc who has squatted down, and is now taking a dump.
The large ork's bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic backs away as well. Making gagging sounds as he does so.
While Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, quickly lifts up the black cloth he always wears around his throat and neck.
And wraps it around the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and nose as he quickly moves away.
As the trio who were closest to the large ork, hurry to where the others are waiting.
Zam the ex mercenary, Tovis the war engineer and Tamric Drubine the field commander join the rest of the group who are waiting in the enemy camp, or what remains of it.
Zam, who has learnt to expect anything and everything in his short time in the group.
Screws up his face in disgust as he spots Dorc da Orc off to one side, just squatting there, taking a dump without a care in the world.
The ex mercenary uses a gloved hand to cover his nose and mouth, as he gets a whiff of what the ork warleader is doing when the breeze comes this way for a bit.
Then Zam pays attention to what lord Farque is saying as the undead warlord is speaking.
"The next section of their frontlines is about a mile and a half to the north of here" says lord Farque who continues with "At a farming village up there".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord follows that with "We'll hit them before the night is out".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque looks around to see how things are during the aftermath of the attack upon the southern most position of the enemy lines.
And he spots the local army commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris organising things with their troops.
Who have come off pretty unscathed in the nighttime attack upon the enemy.
"We'll use the same tactic" quietly says the undead being who is also know by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
The undead warlord says to field commander Drubine "Tam inform commander Tracklen in what's happening".
"Yes my lord" says the senior officer in the armies of Farque, who moves off to inform the local army commander at what's happening.
A little while later, as soldiers from the loyalist army are making their way over here to the enemy position.
Those who came here under commander Tracklen, and the near equal amount of Farqian soldiers.
Start heading off, going north towards the next position the enemy have here at the southern end of their battlelines.
With Helbe the elven thief out infront on this cold, slightly snowy night, here in the south of the city-state of Kuradum.
The rest of the group travel at the front of the column, where commander Tracklen and his adjunctant Morris are situated.
Stifling a yawn, as it's now well after midnight, commander Tracklen quietly asks "You know how many we will be up against at that village?".
Walking to his left, is the large, heavily armoured form of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Who is silent for a moment or two as he senses away to the north as they march along the road.
Then the undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates as, The Destroyer, quietly says "More than us".
The lord of the death realm slightly pauses before adding "Over five hundred and fifty" followed by "Some of those will be villagers that they haven't been able to move away this winter".
"Makes sense" quietly says the commander of the army still loyal to the ruling council of the city-state of Kuradum.
Next to him, on his right, his adjunctant Morris nods his head in agreement with the more senior officer.
"It's well after midnight" explains Draugadrottin, who continues on with "It'll be halfway to dawn when we attack".
The undead warlord as they walk along the road that heads north, then says "You and your men will have to hit them as hard as possible".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then adds "Like you did back at that camp".
The large, heavily armoured deathlord follows that with "We don't want any of them getting free, and heading further north to their next position along their lines".
Both loyalists, commander Tracklen, and the adjunctant Morris, nod in agreement with the undead warlord.
As they, and those following behind them. Continue northwards through the lightly falling snow, on this cold winters night in southern Kuradum.
With scouts and pathfinders from both the Farqian first army, and the loyalist army out infront.
The undead warlord drops back to walk with the rest of the group, with the exception of Helbe the elven thief who has gone on ahead.
Infact lord Farque can sense that the elven magic user, along with Narladene the ground pixie.
Are already in the village that the rest of them are heading to this night.
"Not much in the way of guards" quietly murmurs Narladene the ground pixie after she lands upon the right shoulder of the elven masterthief she's attached to.
Nodding his hooded head in agreement with the tiny winged creature, Helbe the elven thief murmurs "Probably a duty no one wants to do on a night like this".
The naturally magical creature who is from the Sunreach Mountains is in agreement with that.
As the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel makes his way through the village.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user doesn't take long to check out the village that the enemy has taken over.
And he heads back to the south side of the village, the direction the others are coming from.
On the roof of a house at the southern outskirts of the village, which is located in the middle of some farm country.
The elven master assassin looks away to the west, and he spots the loyalist frontlines a good two and a half, almost three miles away.
So far away, that councilman Hirrye's forces here haven't even bothered to dig any trenches, or build any fortifications or defensive positions. No walls, dirt or otherwise to be found on the west side of the village.
After their quick look around, both Helbe the elven thief and Narladene the ground pixie has learnt that the enemy is using this village as a staging ground.
Where supplies are brought in, and distributed elsewhere along the southern end of the battlelines of councilman Hirrye's forces.
"Might want to take them intact" quietly murmurs the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
Narladene nods as she looks towards the nearby barns. One of which has obviously been built recently.
Then the ground pixie drops off the right shoulder of the highly talented elven magic user for a bit, and heads to the barns.
The naturally magical creature returns fairly quickly, then after she lands upon the right shoulder of the elven master assassin, she quietly says "Those barns are pretty stuffed full of supplies".
The elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head when he hears that.
Then the highly talented elven magic user quietly says "They're almost here".
As he looks away to the south, where the road comes down a wooded hill.
Helbe the elven thief floats down to the ground, and with a thought he drops the pair of bored looking guards who are on sentry duty at the southern end of the village.
On this cold winters night in this part of southern Kuradum.
The member of the personal council to lord Farque turns, and heads back into the village.
He doesn't go far before he enters a house without anyone noticing.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user goes from room to room, four in all.
Where he kills in their sleep, a number of the enemy officers who have been posted to this village.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril keeps the last one alive, knocking out the man in his sleep.
It's the commander of councilman Hirrye's forces here in this village.
With the help of a spell, the highly talented elven magic user gets the unconscious enemy officer onto his left shoulder.
Then the elven princeling makes his way outside, as the first of those coming from the south, come into view.
"Not many of them up and awake at the moment" quietly says Helbe the elven thief in reply to Narladene the ground pixie asking him "Think they'll put up a fight more than that last place?".
"So i rather doubt it" continues the elven masterthief as more and more of the column of loyalist soldiers, and Farqian soldiers come into view of the village.
On this cold winters night in this part of the city-state of Kuradum . . . . . .