To War 45.

Summer. The Border Between The Provinces Of Moleau & Corlinda.

Teabagger the Goblin Cunt yawns after he wakes up and looks around.
The small bright green goblin sourly smiles as he looks to his right, where his general, Dorc da Orc is fast asleep beneath the shade of a tree in the midday heat.
The goblin commander fell asleep here because one of the spellcasters in the army took pity on the large ork.
And cast a spell on the air around the ork warleader, making it much colder than the actual temperature, on what's another warm summer's day in this part of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Teabagger, the commander of the battalion of goblins in the first army of Farque.
Sees his soldiers resting or sleeping in the shade along the treeline. Or in the shade of the nearby airships that are on the ground close by.
The small, bright lurid green goblin, who is from here in Melaurn. Though from further north, in the province of Sorros.
Would of fallen asleep closer to the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
If it wasn't for the fact that general Dorc absolutely reeks at the moment.
To say he's a little ripe on the nose, would definitely be an understatement in the opinion of the commander of the goblin battalion in the first army of Farque.
Teabagger, who was named by Dorc da Orc during a war over a dozen years ago, up in the province of Sorros.
Looks beyond the large shape, and ample belly of the large ork.
To where the ork general's bitter rival is sitting on the otherside of the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
The knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic isn't too close to Dorc da Orc. For the same reason as Teabagger. Because the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world absolutely stinks.
Though the former paladin fell asleep close enough to feel some of the cold air circulating the ork general.
The goblin commander gets up and makes his way around the sleeping ork.
And joins the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, who is yawning as he sits upon a tree stump.
"Would you like some help sir knight?" asks Teabagger the Goblin Cunt as the nobleborn knight is putting on his armour.
"Why yes indeed my fine green fellow" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who continues with "Help me with these buckles" followed by "Wot".
As the small, bright green goblin helps the former paladin don his suit of full plate armour.
The former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of the kingdom of Druvic.
Sourly smiles as his bitter rival Dorc da Orc, starts snoring again as he lies there on the ground, fast asleep, totally oblivious to what's going on around him.
After he helps the nobleborn knight put on his armour, Teabagger looks over at the flagship of the fleet.
And wonders if word has come in to field commander Drubine as to what they'll do next.
The goblin commander isn't the only one thinking that. For sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he sits upon the tree stump, muses "Hmmm i doth wonder what young Tam will have us do next".
The small, bright lurid green goblin originally from the province of Sorros, nods to that from the Druvician nobleman who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Teabagger with his keen goblin eyesight spots someone making their way over the side of the flagship, down the cargo netting over the port side, and head this way.
"There sir knight" says the commander of the goblin battalion in the armies of Farque, who follows that with "It's the scout".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, looks to where Teabagger points.
"Ah it's the young maiden Lis" says the nobleborn knight, who continues with "Most likely she will tell us if young Tam has made a decision".
The large, heavily armoured knight, who though in his mid forties, is still a nightmare in battle if anyone is stupid enough to go up against.
Looks over at his bitter rival the ork warleader, and with a sour look upon his face, he says in a tone of voice that matches that look "Best you wake up that filthy green demon who is your general, wot".
Teabagger nods to that, then he along with a few of the others in the battalion, who are more than happy to do so.
Attempt to wake up their general. Simply by hitting him. Mainly in the head. With hammers.
They've learnt over the years not to hit the large ork in the forehead. As you're likely to break your hammer, and your wrist if you do that.
Teabagger and the others in the goblin battalion have learnt it's best to whack their general in the side of the head to wake him up.
Though today, in the midday heat. Even that doesn't wake up the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, who is fast asleep.
By the time Lisell Maera gets to where they are at the edge of the treeline.
A few of the goblins are breathing heavily in exertion in their attempts to wake up their general.
While sir Percavelle sits nearby, still sourly smiling as he looks at his bitter rival who is fast asleep, and snoring loudly.
"Stand aside" says Lisell Maera the scout who waves the goblins out of the way.
They quickly move to one side, with only one of them tripping up as they do so.
Then the attractive young woman who is originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, and is now in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Kicks the large ork in the groin. Not so much as kick, but more of a stomp. A hard stomp too.
The goblins wince, as does the former paladin sir Percavelle. Who can't help himself, and chuckles too.
While the warleader of the ork race grunts in his sleep.
Then they hear Dorc da Orc snort, then murmur in his sleep "Oh yeah sexy goatee, Dorc fucken like that".
Lisell Maera or Lis as more often than not, she's called by the others in the group, rolls her eyes.
Then the scout stomps down on the groin of the ork weaponsmith once again.
Which gets more winces from the goblins, a wince from Percy once more, though the heavily armoured knight chuckles even louder this time.
"Yeah goatee, again, again, you knows me fucken likes it like that" murmurs the ork general in his sleep after grunting.
The scout Maera rolls her eyes once more, then she looks at Teabagger the Goblin Cunt, and holds out her right hand. Lis nods at the hammer the goblin commander is holding.
The small, bright lurid green goblin winces, though that doesn't stop him from handing the hammer over to the attractive young woman who hails from the coast of the Southlands.
Without even pausing, Lisell Maera whacks the ork warleader in the groin with the hammer, hard.
"Aaaahhhhh fuck!" shouts Dorc da Orc who instantly wakes up, sitting up, grabbing his groin.
"Dorc's nuts" hisses the large ork in pain as he sits there holding his groin, with a fierce scowl upon his broad, green, feral looking face, looking around, wondering what's just happen.
Teabagger holds the hammer behind his back after the scout Maera tosses it to him, before his general looks his way.
He and the other goblins who tried to wake the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world.
All winced, and a couple of them covered their own groins in sympathy when the scout Maera slammed the hammer into the groin of their general.
Meanwhile sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who also winced when Lis smashed the hammer into the groin of the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
Has fallen off the tree stump he's been sitting on, as he's burst into laughter at what's just happened to his bitter rival, the warleader of the ork race.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, sits there breathing heavily, wondering if his cock and balls are still in one piece.
Glares at his bitter rival, the former earl of Lé Dic. Who is on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.
"Get up Dorc" says Lisell Maera the scout, who then adds "Tam wants to see you" followed by "And talk to you about something".
With a grimace of pain, the son of the previous matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks tries to get up.
"Hurry up Dorc" says the attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
"Me fucken tryin' ya cunt" growls the ork weaponsmith, who then mutters "Me fucken nuts hurts".
"You as well Percy" says Lis to the laughing former paladin.
"And you commander" says the scout Maera to Teabagger the Goblin Cunt.
"Come along" adds the scout who grew up on the streets in the poor quarters of the city of Brattonbury.
Eventually Dorkindle, with a lot of grunting and hissing, not to mention a hell of a lot of swearing, is able to get up off the ground.
And eventually sir Percavelle Lé Dic stops laughing enough, to stand up as well.
Though he continues to chuckle as he watches his bitter rival hobble along, wincing and grabbing his groin every so often, to make sure he's still intact, so to speak.
"Me was havin' such a good fucken dream with goats" says general Dorc.
Who quickly looks at Teabagger to his left, Percy away to his right, then Lis who is leading the way, who glances back at him.
"Dorc mean sheeps" hastily adds the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
"Lying cunt!" says the large ork in a higher pitched voice.
"Fuck up whore!" mutters Dorkindle, followed by "Me not fucken talkin' to you".
At that outburst from the ork warleader, both Teabagger and sir Percavelle look sideways at the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
While infront, leading the way to the battlecruiser that is the flagship of the Farqian fleet.
Lisell Maera just rolls her eyes, as she had heard the voice of Dorc da Orc's 'mother' plenty of times over the years.
The attractive young woman whose mother was a street prostitute, and whose father, a man she never met, was a sailor.
Has always wondered if Dorc threw away to the skull of his actual mother, who he killed.
A skull that's tied to the wide belt of the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
He would stop hearing the voice of his mother in his head. And he would stop speaking in her voice. Or what he thinks her voice sounds like.
I rather doubt it, the scout Maera dryly thinks to herself.
Who knows that even it did happen. There's still plenty of other voices in the head of the ork general, whose voices he occasionally speaks in.
Then as they near the flagship, Lisell Maera looks back again at Dorc da Orc and rolls her eyes once more.
As the limping ork warleader suddenly says "Fucken shitballs". As the cold air spell that was circling around him disappears.
The ork weaponsmith is soon sweating in the heat of the middle of the day.
As he, along with commander Teabagger, and the former paladin, sir Percavelle.
Follow Lis to the airship, that's the flagship of the Farqian fleet.
Once onboard the battlecruiser, they make their way to the captain's cabin. Or what's referred to as stateroom on a vessel of this size.
There they find Tamric Drubine the field commander, along with Saanea the witch, and a number of others.
Including the undead brothers Arveem and Dargarven. As well as young Hamblin, who is the acting adjunct to the undead heavy foot trooper Arveem.
"Dorc look at this" says Tamric Drubine the field commander who waves them over to what's essentially the map table in the captain's cabin.
Seeing the ork warleader is limping, the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque, asks the large ork "What's wrong?".
"Fucken nothin' wrongs" mutters Dorkindle who occasionally winces when he takes a step.
While his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic can still be heard chuckling under his breath every so often, as he watches the ork general, with a large grin on his face.
With his eyebrows raised, Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, looks at Lisell Maera.
"I'll tell you later" dryly says the scout in the elven language.
As the former earl of Lé Dic goes and sits down on one of the benches in the large cabin.
And Lis goes and stands with the undead brothers Arveem and Dargarven, and the young officer in training, Hamblin.
The ork general and the goblin commander make their way around the large table to stand with field commander Drubine.
"Armies from the province of Selvah Na will be joining us in the fight against the crown" explains Tam as he points at the map table.
"Some of them will be further north in Corlinda tomorrow at the earliest" adds the young field commander who continues with "Until then, we have enemy forces here and here, that our force has to deal with".
Dorc da Orc grunts as he looks at the map table. Then he along with field commander Drubine. With the occasional input from Teabagger the Goblin Cunt. Discuss what their next move will be . . . . . .

To War 44.

Summer. The Southwest Of The Province Of Moleau. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

They're somewhere in the very southwest of the province of Moleau. Maybe even in the province of Romial.
Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy isn't exactly sure. They could be over the border for all he knows.
The spy originally from the elven principality of Alínlae, who is now an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
Leaps over a fallen tree as he runs through another section of woods. Here in the border region between the provinces of Moleau and Romial.
He and his company, or what's left of it. Have been on the run since late yesterday afternoon.
It's now early afternoon, on what's another warm summer day in this part of the kingdom of Melaurn.
And the spy Tanith briefly stops so he can listen to what's behind them in the woods.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Slightly winces as he can still hear their pursuers, and he takes off running again.
The elven spy who hails from the principality of Alínlae, who once served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland.
Is just glad that there's no road that goes through this stretch of forest they're in.
As some of their pursuers are on horseback. And though they're mounted, they not moving especially quickly. Or catching up to the small company from the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque that the elven officer is in command of.
The spy Tanith looks forward, and away to the left, where the veteran scout is running through the woods.
The elf with his superior eyesight blinks as he's pretty sure he briefly spots a small bright light go shooting by in that direction through the woods.
Heading in the direction the spy Tanith and his small company have come from.
Dalin looks ahead, then sees another one, this one is bright red, about the size of an apple. And it comes flying straight at him through the trees.
"Shit" mutters Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as he ducks as the small, bright red light, goes shooting over him, passing just a foot or so over his head as it goes by.
"What was that?" asks the veteran scout as he runs over to the spy who is an officer in the armies of Farque.
"Mageglobe i think" says the spy Tanith with a thoughtful look upon his face, as the two of them stop.
The veteran scout who is breathing heavily, lifts his eyebrows in surprise.
While Dalin, who is also breathing heavily, as they haven't stopped to rest at all as they've been chased. Slowly nods his head, then says "Mira".
"The councilor?" says the veteran of fifteen years in the armies of Farque.
"The very one" says the spy Tanith, who knows that mageglobes are usually used by mages when they battle other mages.
But Dalin knows that there's one mage who uses mageglobes however he likes. And that's Mira Reinholt the mage.
The elven spy and the veteran human scout set off again, and a few moments later, the elven officer spots another small, bright light speeding towards them through the trees.
This one, also the size of an apple, stops when it gets to them, and circles around them a few times.
Jumping up and down in midair when it hovers infront of the spy Tanith for a bit.
"Follow it" says Dalin as the small, white mageglobe heads more or less back in the direction it's come from.
Then a couple of moments later, they hear an explosion in the distance behind them in the woods.
The elf and the human share a look as they run, then the next moment, they hear another explosion.
This one way louder, and way more powerful as the ground beneath their feet briefly shakes as they run.
"Definitely Mira" dryly says Dalinvardèl Tanith as they run.
The elven spy looks back over his his right shoulder, and up into the blue, early afternoon sky through the trees.
And in the distance, he sees flaming and burning debris and trees go flying up into the summer sky.
And knows that a lot of their pursuers have just been killed.
His naturally enhanced eyesight picks out half a horse covered in flames, go tumbling through the air a good hundred feet above the ground amongst all the burning debris.
Dalin looks ahead again, and follows the bright white mageglobe which circles around a couple more of the company.
"Follow it!" calls out the elven officer in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
Then the elf originally from the principality of Alínlae frowns as he hears a thumping sound coming from somewhere ahead of them in the forest. Getting louder, as if whatever it may be, is coming towards them.
Then Dalinvardèl Tanith spots a black blur moving through the trees at speed in this direction.
Moving so quickly that the elven spy even with his naturally enhanced eyesight can barely see the blur.
As it approaches them through the trees, it slows so that the spy Tanith can see what it is.
Dalin grins as he sees the massive bulk of Anvil the undead wardog, tongue lolling out the side of the mouth as if he's smiling.
Look his and the veteran scout's way. Before he turns into a blur again. Going by the two of them, away to their right and disappears in moments as he moves too quick for even an elven eye to see.
The massive canine is heading in the direction of the two explosions.
And the elven spy in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Knows that if any of the enemy survived the mageglobes of Mira Reinholt.
They're good as dead now, with Anvil the undead wardog heading their way.
Dalin spots another dark fast moving blur heading their way, and he says to the scout beside him "Hold up".
The two of them stop, and the dark blur comes through the trees directly towards them in an instant.
"My lord" says the veteran scout when he finds his lord and ruler suddenly standing infront of him and the elven officer.
Holding up a gauntleted hand to stop the scout from bowing, lord Farque says to the two of them "Follow Mira's mageglobe".
The undead warlord continues with "There's a clearing nearby which it'll lead you to".
The heavily armoured deathlord who is speaking in the elven language looks at Dalin and tells him "We'll speak soon".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then dryly adds "Now i have to go and get that idiot dog of mine, and stop him from wandering off after he kills everyone that way".
As he gestures in the direction Anvil has gone, where the explosions took place further back in the forest.
Then the lord of the death realm, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
Takes off at a run, and is soon a blur to the eye, and is quickly gone from sight as he goes after his undead wardog.
"Come on, let's go" says Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy to the veteran scout as he points to where he can see the small white mageglobe in the distance, leading some of the others in the company southwards.
A little bit later, at the edge of a forest clearing, beneath the shade of the branches of a tree.
The elven spy in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque says "Thanks".
After he takes another long drink of cold water from the water sack that one of the krean air marines has given him.
Which Mira Reinholt the mage has cooled with a spell that he's cast.
Nodding his hooded head as he looks around, Mira Reinholt the mage quietly asks in the elven language "How many in your infiltration company?".
"Twenty" is the reply from the spy Tanith who continues on with "And that includes two runners as well".
The once powerful mage slightly winces as he sees that there's only twelve of the black clad soldiers in the scouts and rangers division in the company. And he sees that includes one of the runners too.
"The other runner got away too" says the elf who hails from the principality of Alínlae, where he served as a spy for one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland. 
He then tells the spellcaster who is a member of lord Farque's personal council about the young messenger who escaped by taking an enemy horse.
After he destroyed one of the targets, which was an airdock, in a town in the west of the province of Moleau.
Dalin then informs the mage who hails from the city-state of Vexil, which Mira is in exile from.
About one of the soldiers in the company, who was captured by the enemy. One of the company that the spy Tanith had to kill.
The practitioner of magic, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, slightly grimaces when he hears that.
"It had to be done" quietly says the mage Reinholt, who after more than a decade of speaking the elven language, still has a horrible accent.
Whose pronunciation of the language is even worse. So much so that Dalin feels like cringing every time the member of lord Farque's personal council speaks it.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell he accidentally cast.
Then tells the officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque "Can't have them fall into enemy hands" followed by "Especially scouts and rangers".
Who tend to know a bit more in overall tactics, especially in the areas they're working in.
Compared to infantry and mounted forces in the first army of Farque. Who have been hired by lord Gormica of Salmah Forest. In a war against the king and crown of the kingdom of Melaurn.
"I know that" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith who after a brief pause, quietly adds "Doesn't make it any easier".
Mira Reinholt glances sideways at the elven spy, then he nods his hooded head.
The elf who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, then asks the spellcaster "What's been happening?".
The mage in the black hooded cloak then tells the spy Tanith what's been happening, starting with "The nobles in Selvah Na are joining us".
The exiled Vexilian mage continues with "Lord Gormica was able to convince them to join him in the fight against the crown".
The spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster then adds "Apparently it didn't take too much convincing on his part, as apparently that lot down there hate the crown".
The mage who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque follows that with "Nor did it cost him that much to have them join us".
"That's something at least" murmurs the elven spy after the once powerful mage informs him how much lord Gormica of Salmah Forest has paid the nobility of the province of Selvah Na to join them in the fight against the crown of Melaurn.
"Their armies are coming up from the south" explains the swordmaster Reinholt who continues with "They'll be engaged with the enemy in another day or two".
The spy Tanith nods in understanding, then the spellcaster who was exiled from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil, for treason during a time of war.
Tells the elven officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque what he knows about the others in the group they usually travel with, and what he knows of what they've been doing.
A short time later, and lord Farque walks through the trees, and joins them at the edge of the clearing.
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head in acknowledgment to the bows from the surviving members of Dalin's company, who are standing around the edge of the clearing, in the shade beneath the branches of the trees.
The spy Tanith looks away to the left, where he spots the undead wardog Anvil with the burnt hindquarters of a horse between his jaws.
The massive animal sits down and starts gnawing on the burnt remains of the ass end of a horse.
Happily growling and softly barking to himself as he does so.
After rolling his eyes when he glances at his wardog, lord Farque looks at Dalin and asks him "You complete your objective?".
"Yes my lord" replies the elven spy who continues on "Destroyed the airdock in that town, and we also burnt down the inn they were using as their headquarters".
Draugadrottin, or Des'tier which is his elven name, which translates to, The Destroyer.
Nods his full helmed head as he knows the spy Tanith's small company were targeting nobles and their armies from the province of Alindar, allies of the crown and king.
"We'll take you to your ship" says the heavily armoured deathlord.
As every small company from his first army that's in enemy territory, are being dropped off, and picked up by a either a fast frigate or a cutter in the Farqian fleet.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then gestures at the mage Reinholt and says to the elven spy "Mira tell you what's been happening?".
"He has" is the reply from Dalinvardèl Tanith who then takes another long drink of cold water from the sack, or pouch he's holding.
"The more you and the other small infiltration companies do, the better" says lord Farque, who continues with "It not only distracts the fuck out of them, it stops them reinforcing their larger armies".
The lord of the death realm then adds "Making it easier for Tam and the other field commanders taking on their larger armies".
The undead warlord briefly pauses before he says "Even with the addition of that lot from Selvah Na, the crown still outnumbers us" he continues with "The more we fuck their allies up, the more likely it is we'll gain a victory for lord Gormica".
Both Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy and Mira Reinholt the mage nod in agreement.
Then lord Farque steps out into the clearing a bit, looks up in the clear afternoon sky, and raises a gauntleted fist.
A moment later, a large rift appears one of side of the clearing, and Draugadrottin orders "Back to the ship".
The krean air marines who have come down are first through the rift back to the strikeship that's high in the afternoon sky.
Next is Dalin's company, followed by the spy Tanith himself, then the mage Reinholt.
"You as well you idiot" dryly says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque to his wardog Anvil.
The reason why the rift is larger than a set of large double doors.
The massive canine, still with the burnt hindquarters of a horse between his jaws, goes through the rift. Holding his head to the side so the burnt horse hindquarters goes through with him.
Then lord Farque goes through the rift, which disappears once he's through it, and onboard the krean strikeship on the otherside . . . . . .

To War 43.

Summer. The Province Of Moleau.

Flying high above the southern part of the province of Moleau, is the command ship of the Farqian fleet.
Onboard the krean strikeship is Mira Reinholt the mage, who has just walked out of the wheelhouse.
And is making his way forward along the flat, mastless deck of the krean vessel after helping out some of the navigators.
The once powerful mage doesn't know if he's contributing all that much. Since he doesn't actually cast anything.
But another set of eyes, even his human ones are helpful to the krean practitioners of magic.
As the powerful spellcasters are watching a large number of the various forces in the first army of Farque scattered right across the south of the province of Moleau, and through the north of the province of Corlinda.
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, which he's in exile from.
Is always fascinated at how the krean navigators can cast viewing spells that can go vast distances.
And how some of them you can even hear what's going on, and the mage Reinholt would swear. Can even smell what they're looking at through their viewing spells.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Who had the potential to be a battlemage, or warmage as they sometimes referred to as. The first such one of his generation.
Who lost the majority of his magical powers when he went offworld, when he accidentally cast a rift/void instead of a regular rift spell.
Knows that even if he still had his vast stores of magical power at his disposal.
He still couldn't be able to cast anything close to the type of viewing spells, the krean navigators can cast with ease.
That kind of spell is beyond his ability and skill. He suspects it would take him years to master even the basics of such a spell.
The Vexilian mage in exile, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
Wraps his cloak around himself, as it's fairly cold this high up. Even though it's near the middle of summer, here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
The human spellcaster in the black hooded cloak is near the port rail, that's if the krean strikeship actually had rails.
After looking down towards the ground over fifteen thousand feet below.
That highly skilled swordmaster originally from the city-state of Vexil, who is now a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
Turns when he hears something behind him on the mastless deck. And he finds that the undead wardog Anvil has come up on deck.
The massive canine doesn't even glance his way as he makes his way towards the wheelhouse.
The undead wardog that weighs over fifteen hundred pounds, and stands at least six and half foot tall, closer to seven foot tall at the shoulders.
Stops near the door on the port side of the wheelhouse, and looks in.
The stubby, black tail of the massive canine starts wagging furiously when Anvil spots his master inside with the crew in the wheelhouse.
The exiled Vexilian swordmaster just shakes his hooded head as he watches the massive canine.
Then councilor Reinholt, who is part of a family that's owns one of the most important and influential, not to mention most successful trading companies, not just in Vexil, but in all the Southlands.
Goes back to looking down over the port side of the strikeship, down at the ground far below.
A little bit later, and the once powerful mage who has been looking at a hill range down in southern Moleau.
Heads back to the wheelhouse. The highly skilled swordmaster has to step around Anvil, who is lying down next to the wheelhouse, looking like he's asleep.
The mage Reinholt knows the undead wardog doesn't need sleep, but that doesn't stop him from lying down and getting what seems to look like sleep.
The Vexilian mage in exile steps into the wheelhouse, and makes his way to the back,  where lord Farque stands, leaning back against the bulkhead.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster is just about to say something to the undead warlord.
When lord Farque quietly says to him in the elven language "Word just came in".
The heavily armoured deathlord continues with "They've agreed to Gormica's proposal" followed by "The first of their armies will be leaving Ramaee this evening".
"That went well then" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage, who nods his head when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque quietly tells him "Didn't pay them all that much too" followed by "So both brothers are more than happy with that".
"I can well imagine" dryly murmurs the mage who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The Vexilian mage in exile is glad that lord Gormica of Salmah Forest was able to secure allies down in the port city of Ramaee.
As the nobleman from the province of Karricaw, even with the army of his twin brother, baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
Along with the first army of Farque that lord Gormica has continued to hire.
Was severely outnumbered by the forces of the crown and king of Melaurn, and their allies.
Now with the armies of the nobility of the province of Selvah Na joining him.
The lord of Salmah Forest is now only badly outnumbered.
With more of a fighting chance against the king and crown. Who are seeking retribution for the attacks upon the people of southern Moleau.
Which ironically, lord Gormica had nothing what's so ever to do with.
As those attacks were undertaken by lord Milson of Mottman Deep. One of his twin brother Wilmot's staunchest allies.
"Will they make that much of a difference?" quietly asks the mage Reinholt.
"Not for at least a couple of days" is the quiet reply of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The large heavily armoured, undead warlord slightly frowns behind the faceplate of his full helm, as he watches the navigators, who are quietly discussing something.
A frown appears upon the dragon like face of the captain of the strikeship, who makes his way over to the trio of navigators in the wheelhouse.
While the ship's fourth, is below deck, where he's with the duty officer down below.
The viewing spells the navigators are watching, are on what's essentially the map table here in the wheelhouse.
And after the captain quietly speaks to the trio of powerful krean spellcasters about something, he turns towards the undead warlord.
"What is it?" asks lord Farque in the krean language.
"A problem my lord" says the captain of the strikeship in the same language.
"Show me" orders Draugadrottin, another name the people of the lands Farque know their lord by.
One of the navigators makes a slight gesture with his scaled right hand. And one of the viewing spells on the map table is suddenly enlarged, and in the middle of the wheelhouse, man height and infront of the heavily armoured deathlord.
The exiled Vexilian mage standing next to the lord of the death realm slightly frowns as he watches the viewing image.
That shows a few black clad soldiers, scouts and rangers by the looks of it, running through the countryside, either in southern Moleau, or northern Corlinda.
The perspective changes, and it's now looking down at the Farqian soldiers, and the image expands showing the countryside all around them.
And there in the direction they've obviously come from, there's riders in the distance who are pursuing them.
Mira Reinholt glances sideways at the large, heavily armoured figure standing beside him.
Then the image drops down towards the ground again as the Farqian soldiers run into some woods.
The viewing spell goes through the woods, where there's a few more of the black clad Farqian soldiers.
One of whom, the once powerful mage gets a glimpse of.
"Shit" mutters Mira Reinholt the mage, who then after glancing at lord Farque again, adds "It's Dalin".
The undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer.
Is silent for a few moments, then nods his full helmed head when he sees the captain of the strikeship wants to say something.
"They've been chased since late yesterday afternoon is the navigators best guess" says the strikeship captain.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, winces when he hears that as the krean captain spoke in common.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque slightly nods, then after a moments pause, he asks in the krean language "Where?".
"In the far west of the province of Moleau, near the border with Romial" is the strikeship captain's reply in the same language.
"Can you get there?" asks the undead warlord.
"Close" replies the captain of the command ship of the Farqian fleet, followed by "But not right there".
Without even thinking about it, Draugadrottin orders "Get as close as you can, as quick as you can".
The krean captain shoots a glance at councillor Reinholt, then says to the lord of the death realm "My lord, the mage has to be taken below deck, and strapped into the dummy seat".
"Don't worry about it" says the heavily armoured deathlord, followed by "Just go quickly".
"It will be by quick dive my lord" states the krean strikeship captain.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque just nods his full helmed head. Then the ship's captain turns, starts calling out orders to the wheelhouse crew.
"What's going on?" asks Mira Reinholt, who of course, couldn't understand a single word of the ship's captain and the undead warlord's conversation.
Holding out his right arm, lord Farque says to the exiled Vexilian mage "Hold on" followed by "As tight as you can".
The once powerful mage momentarily pauses, then he blinks in surprise as he realises what's going on.
"Fuck" mutters the mage Reinholt, who quickly grabs lord Farque's armoured right arm, and holds onto it as tight as he can. As the krean strikeship suddenly goes into a steep dive.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster knows he shouldn't be above deck and in the wheelhouse at the moment.
He should be below deck, strapped into the seat that the krean call the dummy seat.
It's for passengers who aren't krean, or undead beings. For when a krean vessel goes through a sky rift at acceleration.
"Cast a spell to hold on if you have to" says lord Farque, followed by "We're going through a quick dive".
The exiled Vexilian mage winces as he's gone through an accelerated dive like that once before.
Over on the continent across the Great Western Ocean, between the cities of Nors and Tran.
He clearly remembers it, or some of it, as he was briefly knocked out unconscious because of the speed of the accelerating krean scoutship he was on at the time.
Mira Reinholt quickly casts a strength spell and clings onto the right arm of the heavily armoured deathlord.
The once powerful mage's feet come off the decking as the command ship of the fleet goes into what's basically a vertical dive.
The swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil who feels like he's going to vomit, sourly smiles as the krean in the wheelhouse are all flapping their wings while they're in the air keeping themselves steady.
Lord Farque, who is just standing there, calls out something in the language he uses to command his wardogs.
And the mage Reinholt hears the undead wardog Anvil bark something in reply from out on the deck.
"Idiot" is what the once powerful mage hears the deathlord of Farque mutter, with what can only be described as affection.
Something councilor Reinholt has hardly even heard from the undead warlord in the years that he has known him.
Then as the krean captain and his first officer calmly call out orders.
And Mira Reinholt finds himself completely inverted, with his legs out behind him in the air, parallel to the decking as he holds onto the right arm of the heavily armoured deathlord.
The undead being glances at the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, and nods his full helmed head at the viewing spell that's still infront of them, and says "Send mageglobes once we're through" followed by "Anything to help them".
Mira Reinholt swallows as it feels like he's going to spew, and just nods in reply. And just hopes he doesn't throw up and is knocked out as they go through the ship's rift or sky rift, as it's sometimes called that the krean navigators have cast.
The mage looks through the viewing spell and out the front windows of wheelhouse as the strikeship that's pointing straight down to the ground, which it's accelerating towards.
The Vexilian mage in exile spots the ship's rift they're approaching at speed.
He doesn't know how fast they're going, but he suspects they're flying at well over a couple hundred knots, and getting faster.
Mira Reinholt closes his eyes, and feels lord Farque hold onto him with his right gauntleted hand.
And with the once powerful mage floating there essentially in a freefall at speed clinging onto the right arm of the undead warlord who just stands there.
The krean strikeship picks up speed even more as it shoots through the ship's rift.
Next thing Mira Reinholt knows, he drops to the decking, landing on his feet, standing upright as he continues to hold onto lord Farque's right arm with a strength spell.
The once powerful mage opens his eyes, and sees that though the krean strikeship vertically dived down into the sky rift. It has come out horizontal to the ground at speed.
The mage Reinholt quickly looks at the viewing spell infront of him and the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The once powerful mage lets go of Draugadrottin, drops the strength spell as he can now stand upright as the krean strikeship is slowing down.
And though he's little light headed, and is his stomach is doing back flips, as it feels like he could vomit at any moment.
He creates a mageglobe that goes flying from his gloved right hand, and out one of the windows along the front of the wheelhouse.
Mira Reinholt creates another mageglobe, followed by another one, both of which take off after the first . . . . . .

To War 42.

Summer. Melaurn.

"I could never understand anyone wearing a suit of full plate" says Beldane the cleric as they watch a fully armoured knight and what looks like his retainers ride by.
"Hell, even half plate is bad enough" admits the fighting cleric who is in his half plate armour.
"Summertime in full plate must be the worst" continues the member of the church of Glaine.
The powerful spellcaster who hails from the kingdom of Nastell then adds "It would drive anyone nuts".
"That explains Percy then" dryly says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, which causes the cleric to chuckle.
They're sitting on the covered front porch of a tavern here in the port city of Ramaee, in the province of Selvah Na.
They're sitting in the shade, and drinking cold beer, thanks to Beldane who has cast a spell on their tankards, keeping their drinks cold.
They're not just sitting here for the shade and the cold drinks. They're sitting here because it gives them a view down the street they expect the others they've come here to the city of Ramaee, to head along anytime soon.
They haven't discussed it as they wait, but eventually the cleric from the kingdom of Nastell quietly asks "Think they got them to join?".
"I'm not sure" is the reply of Jarjin Littlefoot, who is not exactly what he appears to be.
The halfling who 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 Jarjin Littlefoot, then adds "Maybe they have".
The hobbit who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, follows that with "If those brothers stopped arguing long enough, then i think there's a good chance they've got a deal done".
Beldane the cleric nods his head in agreement, and says "I hear ya". As he had similar thoughts on the matter.
They don't have to wait too much longer, for when the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine.
A god predominantly worshiped in the north of the kingdom of Nastell is just contemplating ordering a couple more beers.
He spots Helbe the elven thief, along with the twin nobleborn brothers, baron Wilmot of Pirtgott, and lord Gormica of Salmah Forest making their way along the street.
"There they are" quietly says the powerful spellcaster.
The halfling who is a former air sailor, who is from the Sultanate of Dreese, which is on far east coast of the continent, looks the other way down the street from where he's been looking, and he spots the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, along with the twin brothers Gormica and Wilmot.
"I think they might of struck a deal" quietly says Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman.
"Looks like it" says Beldane the cleric as they see the noblemen from the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda deep in discussion as they follow behind the elven magic user, who like Jarjin Littlefoot is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Once on the front porch of the tavern, lord Gormica of Salmah Forest wryly says "I need a drink after all that".
For once his twin brother, baron Wilmot of Pirtgott doesn't argue with him, and instead nods in agreement with the nobleman from the province of Karricaw.
Then the twin brothers head inside to get something to drink, while Helbe the elven thief sits down on the bench that Beldane the cleric is sitting on.
The churchman from the kingdom of Nastell sees the elven magic user glance at his own right shoulder, then nod his hooded head to the door that the brothers Gormica and Wilmot just went through.
The fighting cleric knows his fellow spellcaster has just got Narladene the ground pixie to go and follow the lord of Salmah Forest, and the baron of Pirtgott inside, and keep an eye on them.
"Here, this is for you" says Helbe the elven thief who tosses a coin sack on the table, right infront of his fellow council member, Jarjin Littlefoot.
"Oh?" says the halfling, who is really a barbarian hordesman from the southern tundra, who just happens to inhabit the body of the hobbit who is a former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese.
Looking at the heavy coin pouch that landed with a clunk, Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin asks "Why's that?".
With a wry looking smile upon his face, the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel quietly says "I've noticed of late, especially in that body you're in, your arms have got short, and your pockets deeper".
"The hell" mutters councilor Littlefoot, while on the bench across the table, Beldane the cleric chuckles.
"You don't exactly pay for anything of late" says the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, who gestures at the pouch stuffed with coins as he adds "So you might as well put that to use".
"I pay my fair share" mutters the halfling who is from the far east coast of the continent.
"Oh really" sarcastically says the highly talented elven magic user, who nods his hooded head at the near empty tankards infront of Jarjin and Beldane, and asks his fellow councilor "Did you pay for them?".
The hobbit keeps his mouth shut, and doesn't answer that.
"I thought not" dryly says the elven master assassin, while the powerful cleric chuckles as Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson sourly smiles.
"You're getting as bad as Mira nowadays" states the elven masterthief.
"Hang it all" says Jarjin Littlefoot in an offended tone of voice, who continues on in the same tone with "I'm not as bad as that tightwad".
The mage, Mira Reinholt who has changed a lot in the more than a dozen years he's been without the vast majority of his magical powers.
Hasn't changed at all when it comes to one aspect. He's just as bad now, as he was when he was a younger man, and was incredibly powerful when it came to being a mage.
He's still a notorious spendthrift, who doesn't particularly like paying for anything if he doesn't have to.
Especially when it comes to paying for the others in the group, who usually share the responsibilities when they buy things together.
"Almost" says the elven princeling with a twist of his lips, to stop himself from laughing as his fellow member of lord Farque's personal council looks daggers at him.
The halfling from the otherside of the continent then shakes his head, and takes the pouch and opens it.
Then whistles in appreciation at the amount of gold coins that's inside of it.
Looking at the elf who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel, who also happens to be a masterthief.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman dryly asks him "Where did you get it?".
"Back at the place we met up with them" replies prince Helbenthril Raendril, who hikes a thumb back over his right shoulder, in the direction he and the twin brothers, Gormica and Wilmot have just come from.
"Belonged to a marquis, or a viscount i think" says the elven master archer, who shrugs his shoulders as he continues with "Probably doesn't even know it's gone yet".
Rolling his eyes, the halfling who is a former air sailor from the far east coast of the continent, stuffs the stolen coin pouch into his tunic.
Then Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson asks his fellow council member "How did it go then?".
Switching to the common language as the twin brothers lord Gormica, and baron Wilmot come back outside onto the porch, and join them at the table.
Helbe the elven thief says "Quite well actually" followed by "They'll be joining us".
With a nod of his hooded head at the nobleman from the province of Karricaw, the young elven noble room the island principality of Laerel says "And lord Gormica doesn't have to pay them as much as we feared".
The highly talented elven practitioner of magic then adds "Which is a good thing".
"That's for damn sure" says lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, who suddenly feels his tankard get cold in his hands before he goes to take a drink from it.
"Thanks" says the younger of the twin brothers, who doesn't know which spellcaster just made his beer cold. But he's appreciative that they did.
So is baron Wilmot of Pirtgott, who also says "Thanks". After taking a sip from his now cold tankard.
"How much?" asks councilor Littlefoot, and who then adds "And when?".
The elven princeling from Laerel gives the answer to the first, and both Jarjin Littlefoot and Beldane the cleric are equally impressed that lord Gormica doesn't have to pay the local nobility here in the province of Selvah Na, particularly all that much as they join him in the fight against the king and crown.
"They will start mobilising, well right now actually" adds the highly talented elven spellcaster who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"They were sending word of to their armies when we left them" adds the elven master assassin.
Then briefly switching to the elven language, prince Helbenthril Raendril says "A lot of them would of done it for free because they hate the crown so much, but they decided in taking payment for form sake more than anything else".
Both the fighting cleric and the former air sailor nod their heads when they hear that.
For in the short time they've been here in the city of Ramaee, they've overheard a couple of times people's contempt for the crown.
"Are they willing to let us command them?" asks Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson in the same language.
As that's the one stipulation that lord Gormica had to get from the local nobility here in the province of Selvah Na, if they wanted to enter the war against the crown.
"They are" says Helbe the elven thief, who switches back to the common language as he nods his hooded head at the nobleman from the province of Karricaw as he adds "I'd say lord Gormica got a good deal".
"I hope to think so" says lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, who continues on with "Even if i hadn't, and they still joined us, it would still be a good thing".
Nodding his head in agreement with his twin brother Gormica, baron Wilmot of Pirtgott says "We need their numbers, let's face it, even with you lot, we're badly outnumbered by the crown".
They all know this, for as it stands, before the nobility here in Selvah Na joined them.
Lord Gormica's army, and baron Pirtgott's army, along with the first army of Farque were outnumbered by the king's army by at least four to one, maybe even five to one.
And that doesn't include all the allies of the king has in many of the other provinces in the kingdom who have joined him.
As that has basically doubled the forces the crown has at it's disposal as it goes to war against the lord of Salmah Forest.
The twin brothers, who don't like one another, and until recently, were on opposing sides in a border war between their two provinces.
Share a look, as they both felt out of their depth when they came here to the city of Ramaee, with just these three from the armies of Farque.
None of their vassals came along, or any of their soldiers, not even their personal guards.
Lord Gormica suspects it was done on purpose by those in the Farqian mercenary army.
Forcing him to work with his twin brother Wilmot, who he recently defeated in the war between the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda.
The lord of Salmah Forest nods his head when the elven envoy Helbe says "They'll bring their armies up by both land and air" he briefly pauses then adds "And I'll have some of them come by sea too".
"Oh?" says lord Gormica, who along with his twin brother Wilmot, nods his head when the elf in the white hooded cloak quietly explains "They'll go around the corner of Melaurn and head up the Kuyriers Strait, and stop along the coast in either the provinces of Alindar or Calinar, and come at the enemy from the rear".
Both the lord of Salmah Forest and the baron of Pirtgott dart a look at the other customers sitting on the covered porch along the front of the tavern.
"Don't worry, no one can hear what we're saying" says Helbe the elven thief, who follows that with "They can hear us talking, but not what we're actually saying".
"Good spell" murmurs Beldane the cleric, who as usual had no idea the elven princeling was casting.
The nobleman from the province of Karricaw lets out a breath in relief, while next to him, his twin brother, audibly sighs knowing they can't be understood by the nearby patrons.
For you can never be too careful. Even though the vast majority of the local population here in the city of Ramaee, and for that matter the province of Selvah Na.
Are just like the local nobility, they dislike the crown. And have done for centuries, as the southern most province in the kingdom of Melaurn has always been the most rebellious.
There are still those, even here in the port city of Ramaee, who are loyalists to the crown and king.
Lord Gormica, who until recently was pretty indifferent to the crown, finishes his cold beer, as does twin brother Wilmot next him. When the hobbit named Jarjin says "We should get going".
The five of them, six if you count Narladene the ground pixie who is on the right shoulder of Helbe the elven thief.
Make their way from the tavern, and head to the public stables next door.
In the early afternoon sunshine on what's a hot day for Ramaee, which is a warm summer day for elsewhere in the kingdom.
They make their way around to the empty courtyard behind the stables.
And prince Helbenthril Raendril with a spell has the stableboy, who is watching from the backdoors of the stable, wander away.
So that Beldane the cleric can cast a gateway, a few moments later, and a door shaped black gateway appears.
And the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, with Narladene invisible to the others, on the right shoulder of the elven masterthief, is the first through the gateway.
Next is baron Wilmot, followed by his twin brother, lord Gormica. Then it's Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin.
Last through is Beldane the cleric, who drops the spell once he's through it, and behind him the gateway disappears.
They're a little over two hundred miles north of the city of Ramaee, they're in the south of the province of Corlinda.
And the five of them, walk along a hillside, to where a fast frigate in the fleet of the first army of Farque has been waiting for them, since they left via a gateway just after dawn this morning . . . . . .

To War 41.

Summer. The City Of Ramaee. The Province Of Selvah Na. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

"I don't know why the hell you brought me along" loudly mutters baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
"You know exactly why" says his twin brother lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, who continues on with "Now sit the hell down, you pacing like that is driving me nuts".
"Good" mutters the baron of Pirtgott, who though glad he's annoying his twin brother, he does sit down on one of the benches beneath the shade of a tree.
The twin brothers, who do not like one another. And until recently were enemies on either side of a war. A war that the younger twin, Gormica won.
Are in the coastal city of Ramaee, in the southern province of Selvah Na.
To be exact, they're in the courtyard of one of the most important local lords here in both the city of Ramaee, and the province of Selvah Na.
The two of them, devoid of their vassals, who remained with their armies up in the province of Corlinda.
Have just met with a group of the most important, and influential of the noble class, to be found here in the province of Selvah Na.
Many of whom, also happen to be the most important traders and merchants here in the port city of Ramaee.
"You know you'll end up having to pay them" quietly says baron Wilmot after a bit of silence between the twin brothers.
The nobleman who led the province of Corlinda in the recent border war with the province of Karricaw and lost, continues on with "They might be the most rebellious of any of the lords in the kingdom" followed by "They also happen to be amongst the wealthiest".
The baron of Pirtgott looks around at the courtyard they're in, and the rather opulent mansion it's in the middle of, and he adds in a dry tone of voice "They're not exactly hard up for coin either".
The lord of Salmah Forest nods in agreement with his twin brother, then quietly says "I know".
Lord Gormica refrains from sighing, before he continues on in a quiet tone with "Paying them is still cheaper than paying for more mercenary soldiers from the lands Farque".
The baron of Pirtgott nods to that, then he and his twin brother Gormica look to a corner of the courtyard, where beneath another of the trees.
Sits the elven envoy of the armies of Farque, who is on a bench, leaning back against the courtyard wall behind him, who is dozing in the midmorning heat.
That's what he appears to be doing. But what Helbe the elven thief is actually doing, apart from listening to the twin brothers on the otherside of the courtyard.
Is watch and listen to the conversation going on inside. As the major players amongst the nobility here in the province of Selvah Na. Discuss what they'll do in relation to the offer from lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
The young elven noble who is from the island principality of Laerel, has a couple of viewing spells inside the room the local lords are meeting in.
And he already knows they've agreed to lord Gormica's proposal. Now they're just discussing, or that should be arguing about. How much the lord of Salmah Forest has to pay them.
And though some are willing to do it for free. As the dislike of the crown and king is strong in the province of Selvah Na. Especially here in the port city of Ramaee.
Others argue that the nobleman from the province of Karricaw should at least have to pay them a decent amount, to join him in what's essentially a rebellion against the crown.
As he sits there beneath the tree in the corner of the central courtyard of the mansion, watching what's going on inside with the local lords.
The highly talented elven magic user who is feigning sleep, goes back to listening to what the twin brothers Gormica and Wilmot are talking about.
"I just hope they don't demand everything you've got" sourly says baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
As pretty much a lot of the wealth his twin brother Gormica now has, comes from the coffers of the nobility in the province of Corlinda.
And the lion share of that, is baron Wilmot's own fortune. Which his twin brother took as spoils of war.
"I don't think they will" quietly says lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, who continues with "They hate the crown down here, what with them unable to build those ships with reinforced steel hulls to break through the pack ice during the winter".
The nobleman who led the province of Karricaw in the recent border war with the province of Corlinda, and won, then adds "And having to pay extra tax to ship their goods north overland or by air, for more than a quarter of the year, i wouldn't be surprised some of them are willing to go to war for free".
Wilmot of Pirtgott, whose city of the same name, is tiny compared to the port city of Ramaee, which is the second largest city in the kingdom, with only the capital Calinar, which is also a port city, being larger.
Grunts in agreement with his twin brother Gormica, then he says "Still, I'm guessing you'll have to pay something".
The baron of Pirtgott then dryly adds "They're not shy about showing how wealthy they are down here".
As even the stonework here in this courtyard, is way more refined and expertly crafted than what his keep used to look like.
Until it was destroyed during the recent war between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
The lord of Salmah Forest can only nod in agreement with his twin brother Wilmot.
Lord Gormica looks around at their surroundings again. And he can clearly see how crude the buildings, keeps and castles of the nobility up in the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda are.
In comparison to this mansion he and his twin brother Wilmot find themselves in at the moment.
Sitting in the shade of one of the trees here in the courtyard, the lord of Salmah Forest once again wonders how he's got himself in the situation he's in.
Where after being victorious in the border war between the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda.
He's now in what's essentially a rebellion against the king and crown of the kingdom of Melaurn.
Lord Gormica quietly says to his twin brother "That's why they'll join us" he follows that with "If we're successful they'll be even more richer than they already are".
"That's true" murmurs baron Wilmot, who nods his head when his twin brother Gormica quietly tells him "And they won't be worse off, if we're defeated" he then adds "The rest of the kingdom needs what they grow, and make down here".
The baron of Pirtgott glances sideways at his twin brother sitting on the other bench under the tree on this side of the courtyard.
Then baron Wilmot quietly asks the lord of Salmah Forest "You think we've got a chance?".
The nobleman who led the province of Karricaw to victory in the border war against the province of Corlinda, replies with "As good as any".
Lord Gormica follows on from that with "As good as the king's own are" he then adds "The same can't be said for a lot of their allies from throughout the kingdom".
Gormica of Salmah Forest continues with "True, some are disciplined and know what they're doing" followed by "The vast majority of them aren't, and have never seen any action whatsoever".
Wilmot of Pirtgott nods in agreement with his twin Gormica, then he quietly says "Unlike us, and our armies".
As the lord of Salmah Forest nods, his twin brother Milton glances to the corner of the courtyard, here in the middle of the opulent looking mansion belonging to one of the most important nobles in the province of Selvah Na.
Where the elven envoy named Helbe is dozing beneath another of the trees here in the courtyard.
"Or their army" murmurs the baron of Pirtgott with a nod of his head to where the elven envoy is sleeping.
The lord of Salmah Forest in Karricaw has contemplated hiring more mercenary soldiers from the lands Farque.
But even with the amount he took from the nobility of Corlinda during the war between the two provinces.
He knows he can't afford to pay for another of their armies for any extended amount of time.
Infact it was the elven envoy named Helbe who talked him out of doing that.
And suggested he looked elsewhere here in the kingdom of Melaurn for allies in what's essentially a civil war.
And that the province of Selvah Na is his best bet. As the nobility down here on the southern coast have never got along with the crown. Especially over the last century or so.
The only other choices lord Gormica has is with some of the border lords in the very east of the kingdom in the provinces of Orrinda and Pandilak.
Where Melaurn butts up against The Southern Tundra.
As the nobility there are even more independent that those here in Selvah Na.
Though the nobility out there alongside the tundra. Are more likely to stay out of any potential civil war.
And let the two opposing sides go at it, while they continue to trade and mix with the various barbarian hordes out on The Southern Tundra.
If things fail here in the city of Ramaee, then lord Gormica will have to try to persuade those eastern lords in Orrinda and Pandilak near The Great Southern Tundra.
For even with the army from the lands Farque, and their fleet. He only really has his own army, and that of his twin brother Wilmot's to take on the might of the crown, and the king's allies.
Gormica of Salmah Forest is badly outnumbered, and he knows it. So what he's proposed to the nobles he's met with this morning in the port city of Ramaee.
Has to be successful if he wants any chance of surviving what the crown and king is sending his way.
The lord of Salmr Forest is just about to tell his twin brother Wilmot something.
When both noblemen who are twins, one who rules in the province of Karricaw, and the other in the province of Corlinda.
Turn from where they're sitting beneath a leafy tree on this side of the courtyard.
When they hear a voice in a corner of the courtyard, on the opposite side from where they are, quietly say "They're coming back out".
The twin brothers Gormica and Wilmot share a look. Then the two of them, head over to the otherside of the courtyard.
Where the elf in the white hooded cloak is now standing, looking at one of the set of doors that open up, here into the courtyard that's in the middle of the mansion.
"How do you know they're coming back out?" quietly asks baron Wilmot who is pretty sure the elven envoy is a spellcaster.
Well, Smesall the wizard seems to think he is, the baron recalls. So that's good enough for Wilmot of Pirtgott.
"I can hear them coming this way" truthfully answers Helbe the elven thief.
Then the young elven noble who is from the island principality of Laerel, says to the lord of Salmah Forest "If they agree, make sure you get it in writing".
"I will" says lord Gormica, while next to him, his twin brother Wilmot dryly murmurs "That's if they agree".
That's exactly what the nobles from here in the province of Selvah Na do. When they come out into the central courtyard of the mansion, and give an answer to the lord of Salmah Forest's proposal.
And though lord Gormica, and for that matter baron Wilmot were more than a little worried about how much their counterparts here in the province of Selvah Na wanted to be compensated for them to join up, and take on the crown and the king.
It's actually far less than what the twin brothers thought they might ask for.
The fact that they only want to be paid by the month is a bonus, unlike the Farqian mercenary army whose demands have them being paid weekly.
Lord Gormica rather hopes this potential civil war is over before another month passes.
But he knows anything could happen in a war, especially one fought within a kingdom, essentially a civil war.
After glancing at the elven envoy standing off to one side, then at his twin brother Wilmot.
The nobleman from the province of Karricaw says to their hosts "Shall we write this up then?".
Lord Gormica of Salmah Forest continues on with "The sooner we do, the sooner you can get your armies on the move, and we can take on the crown" . . . . . .

To War 40.

Summer. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

"Come on youngster" murmurs Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy as he looks towards the town a couple hundred yards away.
It's one of the towns here in the south of the province of Moleau that escaped an attack presumably by the Corlindian nobleman, lord Milson of Mottman Deep.
Though it hasn't escaped an attack by elements of the first army of Farque, who are fighting on behalf of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
The Karricawian nobleman who finds himself at war against the crown and king of Melaurn.
There's a cloud of debris mushrooming up into the late afternoon sky on the far side of the town.
While on the near side, the south side, an inn, it's stables, and the building right beside it, are in flames. Threatening to set the buildings near them on fire.
The enemy army camp just outside the southwest corner of the town is a hive of activity.
As their leaders were using that particular inn that's now a roaring blaze, as their command post.
While on the otherside of town, the north side. The only airdock in this part of the province of Moleau has just been destroyed.
Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Looks at the enemy camp, that's made up of various armies and forces from the province of Alindar.
From the nobility there in the province directly to the west of the province of Moleau, who have answered the call to arms from the king of Melaurn.
The elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland.
And who is now an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Sees many of the enemy rushing from their camp, heading into town, to find whoever it is that's responsible for the attack upon the town.
One of whom has just run by the spy Tanith, heading back into the woods, to join the rest of the small company that the elven spy commands.
Now the elf, who is a member of the group that travels with lord Farque. Is waiting for the member of his company who has just destroyed the airdocks on the north side of the town, that's here in the very west of the province of Moleau.
"There he is, away to the east of town" quietly says the scout behind the tree to Dalin's right.
The elven officer in the armies of Farque looks to the east of town, and sees a small number of townsfolk fleeing what's just happened in their town.
"Smart lad" murmurs the elven spy as he spots the young teenage messenger, who just destroyed the town airdocks with a mage canister, is amongst the locals who are fleeing.
Then both the officer and the scout mutter "Shit". When they see a number of enemy riders make their way from the east side of town, heading after the fleeing locals.
Dalin nods his hooded head in agreement when he hears the scout murmur "Don't give us away".
Then the spy who hails from the elven principality of Laerel quietly says to the scout "Is he too far?".
Knowing exactly what his commander is referring to, the human scout, a veteran who has patrolled the borders of the lands Farque for the last fifteen years, nods his head yes, and quietly replies with "He's too far".
Referring to if either one of them with their longbows, could shoot the young messenger.
"Hope there's no spellcasters with those riders" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith, who briefly pauses before he adds "Or that those locals give him away".
The veteran scout winces when he hears that, then nods in agreement with the elven spy who commands their small company.
They watch as the enemy riders round up the fleeing locals to the east of town, amongst whom is the young teenage runner in the first army of Farque, who has just destroyed the town's airdocks.
As they watch the enemy riders gesture and yell at the locals, one of the townsman points at the young Farqian messenger.
"Fuck" mutters the scout, who then quietly asks the elven spy "Can you hear what they're saying?".
"Not really" is the reply of the spy Tanith, who continues with "Too much racket going on with this lot" as he gestures at the enemy camp that's a hive of activity.
Then the elf who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque quietly adds "I can well imagine what's being said though".
The scout nods in agreement, and Dalinvardèl Tanith briefly grimaces as one of the riders reaches down and tries to grab the teenager from the lands Farque.
"Fight" loudly murmurs the elven spy as he wills the messenger to take on the enemy.
The scout nods in agreement with him again. As the best thing the young runner can do now is to fight and get himself killed, or fight and somehow escape.
"He heard you" quietly says the veteran scout as they see the messenger slam a dagger he had hidden up his sleeve, up into the throat of the enemy rider who just tried to grab him.
They watch as the youngster in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, who can't be more than fourteen years old.
Drag the fatally wounded enemy soldier out of the saddle, and jump up onto the back of that horse, before any of the other riders can react.
He digs his boot heels into the flanks of that horse, that takes off running.
Both the elven spy and the human scout nod in satisfaction, as they see the young teenage messenger is heading to the northeast away from town, and away from where the rest of his company are. Being chased by the rest of the enemy riders as he does so.
Sharing a look with the scout, the spy Tanith quietly says "He either gets away, or they catch him and hopefully kill him" followed by "Either way we can't do anything for him".
They both hope the runner escapes, but if he is caught. The enemy quickly kill him, as they don't want the teenage Farqian tortured and questioned. Or even worse, handed over to an enemy spellcaster who can read his mind.
"We better get going too" quietly says Dalinvardèl Tanith, the elf in the grey hooded cloak nods at the enemy camp as he adds "Looks like someone there kind of knows what they're doing".
As enemy riders, and others on foot, are spreading out, searching for whoever it is that's responsible for the attack upon the town they're using as a staging ground, as they prepare to travel onwards to the province of Corlinda.
Seeing a number of the enemy from the province of Alindar, heading in this direction towards the woods.
The spy Tanith, along with the veteran scout, turn and run back through the trees.
And so begins a chase through this part of the western Moleau, that goes well into the night.
The company under the command of Dalinvardèl Tanith is relatively small, just twenty of them, including the two runners, or messengers who undertook the attack upon the town that the enemy are using as a staging ground.
And like all of the small companies actually deep in enemy territory, all of them are in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
And the reason why the two youngest members of the company undertook the attack on the town.
Is because they're the least likely to draw attention to themselves. And can easily pass as locals here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Far more easily compared to their comrades in the small, fast moving company. Who like most such companies, are on foot.
The spy Tanith has his company spread out as they flee southwards through the woods.
They all know they're not to fall into the hands of the enemy. And the best thing you can do if you are caught, is to fight, hoping to kill as many of them as they kill you.
Dalin who has been in numerous wars in his lifetime, knows that though lord Farque and his first army are far superior to the enemy when it comes to ability, and more importantly tactics.
They have one major disadvantage, a fairly distinct disadvantage too. And that's that the crown, and the king of Melaurn have far superior numbers than they do. Infact substantially more numbers.
As the king of Melaurn doesn't just have his own army. He can also call upon his allies throughout the entire kingdom of Melaurn.
As he has done with a number of the nobility from the province of Alindar. Which is to the south of the province of Calinar. And directly to the west of the province of Moleau.
With the superior numbers the crown has. Lord Farque, general Salmic, and the three field commanders, one of whom is Tamric Drubine.
Have had to be creative in their tactics, as they fight on behalf of lord Gormica of Salmah Forest.
Who after leading the province of Karricaw in it's recent border war against the province of Corlinda in the early part of summer.
Now finds himself in opposition to the crown and king. As they didn't take too kindly to the war spreading out beyond the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda.
The first army of Farque are undertaking various attacks upon the crown's forces, and their allies. Who come from many of the provinces throughout the kingdom of Melaurn.
Though not all of the provinces, as there are a few nobles who aren't happy with the current king who rules Melaurn.
For Dalin knows that apart from themselves, there's just lord Gormica's own army who are opposing the crown.
And the only ally they have at the moment, is a rather reluctant ally at best.
As it's baron Wilmot of Pirtgott in the province of Karricaw. The twin brother of lord Gormica.
The baron who led the province of Corlinda in the recent border war with the province of Karricaw.
Who lost that war earlier in the summertime in the south of the kingdom to his twin brother Gormica. After the sunsets, Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as more often than not he's referred to by the others in the group.
Has an advantage over those who are trying to find him and his company.
He can see in the dark, while they can't. Unless there's a spellcaster with them.
And also with it being nighttime, their pursuers are a lot more cautious and circumspect.
Though there is a lot of them. As a number of patrols, both mounted and on foot, have gone out from their camp.
A camp that the spy Tanith guesses, had nearly two thousand soldiers in it, waiting to head southeast into the province of Corlinda.
The spy originally from the elven principality of Alínlae, where he served a similar role he has now in the armies of Farque, in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland.
Sends a few of the company along a game trail he finds, as the woods have thinned out, and there's a road somewhere to the east of them.
The officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque has the veteran scout with him as they continue more or less to the south.
Dalin who hears some of their pursuers in the distance behind them, looks over at the scout who has stopped nearby, and quietly said in the elven language "Two of them haven't come by". Referring to two of their company of twenty.
The elven spy closes his eyes as he listens carefully, he's silent for quite sometime, then he opens his eyes, and looks at the veteran scout, who is patiently watching him.
"They're being chased" quietly says the elven officer in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque.
The scout slightly grimaces, but he remains silent as he waits for what his company command decides to do.
Dalinvardèl Tanith then nods his hooded head to the left, and quietly says "To the road". He then tells the veteran scout "Be prepared for anything".
The scout nods in understanding as he realises what they might have to do.
Then he takes off running, following behind the elven spy, who with his far superior vision and hearing, leads the way.
The spy Tanith picks the best route possible so the following scout doesn't have to be too cautious following him.
There's only one of the moons of Volunell in the night sky at the moment. Though a second is peeking up over the horizon to the east.
The elven officer, who is part of the group who travels with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque slows down as he approaches the road.
And he quietly says to the veteran scout who comes alongside him "I think one of them might be injured".
The elf who hails from the principality of Alínlae, then adds "Sounds like he keeps falling back".
They get to near the road, where they both take their longbows, and string them without even looking at what they're doing.
"They're off the otherside of the trees" quietly says Dalin who can hear what's happening, but not see anything yet.
"Riders are on the road, and in the trees chasing them" adds the elven officer who continues with "Shoot their mounts as much as them".
Then the spy Tanith steps out onto the road, and taking an arrow from his quiver he puts it to the belly of his longbow, draws it back, and releases.
The cloth yard shaft slams into the chest of the lead rider a few hundred feet away to the north along the road.
The other riders near him, are a hell of a lot more cautious as they can't see anyone on the road up ahead.
Dalin nods his hooded head to the right, and says to the veteran scout "There's one of ours" followed by "You should be able to see him soon".
The scout nods, and eventually spots movement amongst the trees in that direction.
And quietly calls out in the elven language "Keep going". When the spy Tanith quietly tells him to call out to their oncoming company member.
"Shoot to my left" quietly commands Dalin who has let another arrow fly "You're bound to hit something" adds the elven spy.
The veteran scout does so, and after letting three arrows off in quick succession. He's rewarded with the scream of a horse in pain, along with a clearly human shout of pain as the horse topples over, pinning the legs of it's rider.
"Fuck" mutters Dalinvardèl Tanith as he spots something through the trees.
"Keep shooting along the road" commands the elven officer who then takes off running, going into the trees on the otherside of the road.
Dalin has gone just forty yards, when he comes to a stop, and sees the remaining member of the company.
Who has just been taken, and put up onto the back of one of the enemy riders mounts, after being bludgeoned.
The spy Tanith can clearly see the bleeding right leg of the black clad Farqian soldier, where he's broken off the arrow that's in it.
The elven officer lets the arrow to his longbow fly. And he almost snarls as the shaft takes another of the enemy riders in the throat, who just moved infront of the one Dalin was aiming at.
That spooks the others, and with shouts they turn, heading back the way they've come from.
The spy Tanith downs another one, who is directly behind the one he's aiming at again.
Then realising he has no other option as there'll soon be too many trees in the way.
Dalin puts another yard long shaft to his longbow, notches it, and draws it back in one motion, and murmurs "May the forest gods forgive me". Just before he lets the arrow fly.
The elven officer in the scouts and rangers division of the first army of Farque turns, and takes off after seeing his arrow hit it's target.
Dalinvardèl Tanith is quickly back on the road, and quietly says to the veteran scout "Let's get going".
As they run along the road with the commotion of the night getting further behind them, the scout quietly asks his company commander "Is he?".
"He is" quietly replies Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy.
The veteran scout nods in understanding, as he knows the elven officer has just killed one of their own soldiers . . . . . .

To War 39.

Summer. The Province Of Moleau. The Kingdom Of Melaurn.

The field commander Tamric Drubine crawls forward along the hilltop he's on, then stops when he's able to see the road down below.
Away to the left, about a third of a mile away along the road is Dorc da Orc and his battalion of goblins.
While directly down below, is the enemy. A combined army from the province of Olind. The province directly to the north of eastern Moleau.
The nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
Gets a good look of the enemy, who are just a couple hundred feet below where he is.
They've made the mistake of putting the bulk of their infantry in the front of their line of a march.
With the mounted troopers following them. Most of them heavy horse. With very little in the way of light cavalry.
Those in the fore have stopped a couple hundred yards from the battalion of goblins and the ork general. With the rest of them following, starting to bunch up.
Those directly below field commander Drubine's position aren't bunched up yet.
Which is fine by him. As that will probably make things even worse with what's about to happen.
Though still only nineteen years old, about to turn twenty in the autumn.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well.
Is already a senior officer in the armies of Farque. Who has helped lead one of the Farqian armies in the past.
During a war up in the kingdom of Nastell. Far away from down here in the very south of the Southlands, in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Watches the enemy for a little bit longer, then he crawls backwards along the top of the hill, and eventually stands back up.
"There's a better spot over there sir" quietly says his subaltern, who nods away to the left.
The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin looks that way, and sees the undead heavy foot trooper Arveem and a few others, including Tam's lover, Saanea the witch walking that way.
The young field commander then looks down this side of the hill, at his waiting army.
Then Tamric Drubine the field commander says to his subcommander "We'll be with trooper Arveem" followed by "Watch for our signal".
The subcommander nods, then field commander Drubine, and his subaltern, a young man by the name of Phelms, who hails from The Citadel, the capital of the lands Farque.
Make their way along the side of the hill, and amongst the smattering of trees, that Arveem, Saanea and a couple of others are in.
Subaltern Phelms waits on this side of the trees, so he can pass on the signal of his commander to the subcommander.
Tam walks to the group of four, and sees that one of the others is an elven scout by the name of Janarendellé.
While the other is the young aide to undead heavy foot trooper Arveem, a teenager by the name of Hamblin.
Who was a recruit in the wintertime back in the lands Farque, who field commander Drubine helped to train.
As Tamric Drubine stands next to his lover Saanea. And the female elf, Janarendellé is leaning forward against the back of tree, looking around it, down at the road below.
The undead being in the full suit of heavy plate armour, who at seven foot tall, and weighing well in excess of three hundred pounds, is the largest human Tam has ever met, or seen for that matter.
Is quietly speaking to his aide, and officer in training, Hamblin.
Nodding down to the road, to where general Dorc and his goblin battalion are still waiting.
Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper quietly says to his aide "See the young runners at the rear there?" followed by "Behind the cover of those rocks on one side of the road, and behind those trees on the other?".
"I do trooper" says the young teen Hamblin who has to constantly remind himself not to call the undead trooper sir.
Even though every fibre of his being tells him it's what he should call Arveem.
"Do you know what their most difficult job is?" asks the massive, heavily armoured undead being.
The young aide who hails from a farming village in the northwest of the lands Farque, who recently turned fourteen years old, replies with "Going through the middle of a battle to deliver a message".
"Not really" says Arveem who is looking down at the four teenage runners behind the goblin battalion.
"Though admittedly that is difficult, and is where most runners or messengers in any army get killed" says the undead being who died four and half centuries ago.
Hamblin stays silent, as he knows Arveem is imparting wisdom here. And wants him to learn something.
"No, the most difficult thing for any runner is staying out of a battle, when their friends and comrades are in the thick of it, fighting for their lives" says the undead heavy foot trooper, who follows that with "Staying put, and observing while the people you know are getting slaughtered, that's the most difficult thing for a runner to do".
Arveem briefly pauses, before he adds in a quiet tone "Right Jana?".
"Sure is" is the equally as quiet reply of Janarendellé the scout.
Who turns her head to look over to where the young aide is standing with the undead heavy foot trooper.
"I was there in the battle when our lord died" says the elven scout, who is polite enough not to mention that was also the same day that Arveem died.
"I was barely a century old, and a young runner in our then battlelord's combined Southlands army" adds Janarendellé the scout, who follows that with "Who was told to watch and observe what happened that fateful day".
She's silent for a few moments, and goes back to looking down at the road below, then quietly says "Most difficult thing I've ever done in my life".
Behind where Arveem is standing with his aide Hamblin. Field commander Drubine nods in understanding, and briefly clasps the left hand of his lover, Saanea the witch.
"You understand?" asks the undead being with a glance down to his side at his aide.
"Yes trooper" replies the officer in training Hamblin.
"That goes for those who command too" says the massive, heavily armoured undead heavy foot trooper, followed by "Which you could find yourself doing one day".
The teenager Hamblin nods his head in understanding, as they look down at what's happening on the road below.
"Right field commander?" asks Arveem the heavy foot trooper with a glance back at Tamric Drubine.
"It sure is" says the nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, who like the others is speaking in the elven language.
Then Janarendellé the elven scout interrupts the conversation, by saying "Their infantry is bunching up pretty badly now".
Tam, who is the son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine, which can be found in the forested north of his homeland, Sarcrin.
Steps forward, to get a better view at the enemy, who are away to the right from this position in the trees near the top of the hill.
"They're still not attacking" quietly says the senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"I'm sure the ork will get them to attack him and his battalion fairly shortly" dryly says Arveem the undead scout as they watch what's happening down on the road, that goes through this part of eastern Moleau, heading south to the province of Corlinda.
Tamric Drubine sees Dorc da Orc discuss something with the bright green goblin, Teabagger the Goblin Cunt who commands the battalion of goblins.
The young field commander wryly smiles as he sees sir Percavellé Lé Dic butt in on the conversation between the ork general and the goblin commander.
While off to one side, stands Lisell Maera the scout who is watching the large ork, the small bright, lurid green goblin and the heavily armoured knight.
Field commander Drubine can well imagine the scout Maera is probably rolling her eyes as she watches and listens to the three having what looks like be a heated discussion.
Arveem the heavy foot trooper snorts, then says in a slightly dry tone to Tam "I think you better get ready to give the signal field commander".
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin nods his head in understanding, as he realises the undead being can clearly hear what Dorc da Orc, Teabagger the Goblin Cunt and sir Percavellé Lé Dic are talking about.
So can Janarendellé the scout, who Tamric Drubine sees is stringing her longbow as she continues to look down the hill at the enemy on the road.
After briefly looking back to see if his subaltern Phelms is watching him.
The senior officer in the armies of Farque looks down to the road, and sees that a number of horsemen have worked their way to the front.
From the looks of their armour, and the sigils on their surcoats, it's fairly obvious they're nobles from the province of Olind.
Who like their soldiers, are just as surprised to find what's essentially a small army of goblins spread out across the road, and to the sides of it.
"Lis is moving back" quietly says Saanea the witch to her lover the field commander.
Tam looks at Dorc da Orc and his battalion of goblins and spots the scout Maera making her way to the rear of the battalion of goblins.
The son of a previous Knight of Castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Looks to the front of the battalion of black clad goblins, and sees the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, is taking one of his longspears from across his back.
Now normally a gap of just over a couple hundred yards between forces is a safe distance.
Even a skilled archer with a longbow would be hard pressed to hit anything at that distance.
And anyone else with a throwing weapon, you can forget about it as that's easily six hundred feet.
But when it comes to an ork, you can throw those assumptions away. Especially if you don't know what they're capable of.
"Told you that ork would get them to attack him" dryly murmurs Arveem the heavy foot trooper.
As they watch Dorc da Orc run a few steps forward, and throw his longspear with an almighty heave.
The spear which is about ten foot long, goes sailing up into the air, going up in an arc, before it starts to come down.
Tamric Drubine suspects the ork general wasn't throwing it anyone specifically, just at the mounted noblemen at the front of the enemy army who are allies of the crown of Melaurn.
As it turns out, the ork warleader's longspear ends up hitting the nobleman wearing the most shiny of armour, and the brightest of capes.
The longspear slams into the armoured breastplate of the nobleman from the province of Olind.
Even thrown over six hundred feet, the longspear almost goes right through the enemy noble, who is cartwheeled off the back of his horse, which bolts off in fright.
There's a momentary pause from those in the enemy army, then all hell breaks lose from them.
Mounted soldiers further back, try to rush forward after seeing what just happened.
From the sigils on their surcoats and tunics, they're from the lands in the province of Olind that the nobleman who just got skewered by Dorc da Orc's longspear comes from.
Amongst the infantry infront of the mounted soldiers. Others from that nobleman's lands, rush forward too.
While at the front of the enemy army, there's some more of them. Who yell and shout, as they break ranks and run forward.
Ignoring the shouts and yells of command from the other mounted nobility at the front of the enemy army.
Watching the chaos ensue amongst the enemy army from the province of Olind, who are traveling through eastern Moleau to get to the province of Corlinda.
As they're allies to the crown and king of Melaurn, who is at war with lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, who has hired the first army of Farque.
Tamric Drubine waits a little while as the enemy army erupts into chaos.
And when some at the front are strung out along the road as they rush towards the goblin battalion led by Dorc da Orc are waiting.
And the rest of the army is a milling and swirling mess, as others within the ranks. Especially some of the mounted soldiers attempt to rush forward, but are hampered by all the infantry infront of them.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque turns, and spots his subaltern Phelms, back just outside the trees, intently watching him.
The nobleborn teenager originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin gives his subaltern a hand signal.
The junior officer nods, turns then moves a short distance away, and gives the signal to the subcommander of the force that field commander Drubine has command of.
"Think they'll move" quietly asks Saanea the witch as she nods down at the battalion of goblins down on the road.
"With Dorc and Percy at the front?" dryly says the field commander Tamric Drubine, who slightly snorts before he adds in a dry tone "I doubt it".
Infact the ork warleader and the former paladin are now basically standing side by side on the road out infront of the battalion of goblins.
As the enemy amongst the infantry who have broken ranks, rush towards them.
"And here we go" quietly says Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper.
As the enemy army from the province of Olind are in turmoil, the force from the lands Farque led by field commander Drubine comes sweeping up and over, and around the hill, to descend upon the enemy army.
With the light cavalry, the quickest in the force that the senior officer in the armies of Farque, leading the way.
Tamric Drubine along with his lover Saanea the witch, and the elven scout Janarendellé, and Arveem the undead heavy foot trooper and his aide Hamblin.
Remain up in the trees near the top of the hill, where they observe the ensuing battle down on, and around the road below them . . . . . .