Chapter 10
The Klarwasser Mercenary Company’s march was, largely, uneventful, long, and boring. It took them four days of march to arrive, and any resistance they encountered was small scale, merely scouts skirmishing with each other. Now, they were camped a mile out from Yorksburg, waiting for the rest of the army to arrive.
The city was large, though not nearly as large as Grössenburg or Bickenstadt it could easily rival many an Imperial city. The walls were large, imposing, and composed of lightly colored stone native to the region. From his position the Baron could see small figures walking around on the battlements, Orc figures are rather large and hard to hide, afterall.
On the battlements were tall and wide crenellations, each one spaced out by about half the length of open space between each one. Large towers loomed over the large flatland around Yorksburg. Farther out, scattered about the cleared flatlands, closer to the uncleared forests then than to the city proper, were small to medium sized wooden forts, which most likely served to force any sieging army to waste time capturing or destroying each of the ten or so forts littered around the hundred or so yards cleared around each side of the roughly square city.
“What the fuck?”
The Baron muttered out loud to nearby Ludwin, hands raised palm up in the universal sign of confusion.
“It’s exactly the same as Londonsburg!”
Ludwin nodded his head.
“Yeah. I was expecting something extremely different because of the way our allies talked about Yorksburg.”
The Baron sounded indignant.
“Well, I certainly didn’t think they would be exactly the same! Down to the placement of the wooden forts even! Unbelievable. Uninspired. A complete lack of artistry!”
Ludwin narrowed his eyes.
“With all due respect sir, what do you know about artistry?”
“You know what? I’ll leave the forts to Jeremy’s men. No need to risk our own for the smaller stuff. We're too expensive to waste on it.”
The Baron completely dodged the question. Ludwin sighed, he knew there was no point in pushing the issue.
“So, what exactly do we do in the meantime?”
The Baron scruffed his increasingly long and unkempt beard. He could shave, he had access to the full amenities of hygiene being an extremely rich nobleman, but he preferred not to until a campaign was over. It was largely to show his men that he was a soldier just as they were.
“For now, we wait until Jack and the rest of his army reach us. Shouldn’t be too long, or so I’m told. Scoutboyz estimates have fallen well within the margin of error.”
Ludwin nodded his head.
“Great. Oh, Baron. Should we see who amongst our pikemen are willing to switch to swords? Pikes are unwieldy in the cities.”
The Baron smiled and patted Ludwin’s shoulder like a proud father.
“Yes, that is an excellent idea! You and Jean can see to that, I have letters to write. And give anyone uncomfortable with swords short spears.”
“Yes sir.”
Ludwin saluted and walked off. The Baron continued to stare at Yorksburg city.
“...it really is exactly the fucking same, isn’t it?”
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Just a day after General Elbertson’s army reached Yorksburg, the rest of Jack’s forces arrived, combining to create a total of 10,000 men. Jack called for all generals and lieutenants to attend a final strategic meeting.
“Roight boyz! Wez is finally ‘ere! Wez is gonna be da first army to sack Yorksburg in two 'undred years! Ain’t dat excitin’?!”
Everyone erupted in incoherent yelling and screaming. Orcs punched and slapped each other, The Baron and another Orc headbutt each other, screaming at the top of their lungs.
I probably shouldn’t do that. It’s gonna kill my braincells, unfortunately.
“Roight, roight, roight, calm down now! Wez goin’ over strategy!”
Everyone quickly calmed down and took their seats.
“Roight, so, first fings first, wez is gonna batter da doors down.”
The Baron’s arm shot up.
“I actually believe I have a better solution than rams. During our assault on Castle Blenham, we used a cart filled with black powder to blow open the door. I say we should use that here.”
Jack thought about it for a moment before speaking.
"Dat sounds cool as ‘ell, an’ effective as ‘ell too. Yeah, wez is doin’ dat! If one cart’s big enough to blow open a normal castle gate, den we’ll probably need two for eacha Yorksburg's gates. Sound ‘bout roight?”
The Baron shrugged.
“Yeah, sounds about right.”
“Roight. After we blow da gates, wez is gonna attack in squads! I want each squad led by a one o’ da stronger gitz, yeah? Uh, for da Baron’s boyz I fink dey’re called ‘gifted ones’?”
The Baron nodded.
“Correct.”
“Roight, so, squads led by gifted ones. Lots ‘o gitz in da squad. Wez usin’ da squads to storm da city an’ capture four key buildin’: Da Grand Barracks on the western side, da market in front o’ da church o’ York, Da church o’ York itself in da middle o’ da city, an’ da Skipper’s palace on da eastern side.”
The generals murmured to each other and Jack waited for it to stop before he continued.
“I want Jeremy’s gitz to split up between attackin’ da Barracks an’ da Skipper’s palace. I want Josh’s gitz to ‘andle da Market, an’ my boyz is gonna ‘andle da Church. An’ I want Jim’s gitz to go ‘round an’ cause a ruckus! Fight any gitz you come across, yeah? Do dat sound good?!”
Everyone yelled in unison.
“Yeah!”
“Den let’s get to it!”
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
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All of the forts surrounding the city were swiftly reduced to smoldering rubble, and so the real siege of Yorksburg city began.
Two carts were being pushed to each gate, getting rained on heavily by Yorksburg archers. The musketmen shot from just out of archer range, firing as quickly as possible to keep the archer's heads down.
The carts crept closer and closer, coming under heavier and heavier pressure. Orcs fell to arrows as they pushed the carts faster and faster. The Orcs at the south gate didn’t fully understand how the carts worked, and so they ran it straight into the door, blowing themselves up along with it.
All around York's favored city, explosions rocked the ground. Bits of stone and wood splinters flew everywhere, killing dozens of Orcs in and around the gate houses. The Londonsburg army roared and charged the gates through heavy arrow fire, finishing off any dying Orcs they found as they climbed through the rubble.
The Baron sliced the hand off an Orc and pointed his saber towards the Skipper’s palace, a building which looked exactly the same as Jack’s palace. If the Baron had time to feel bewildered, he would. But he didn't.
“Forwards! Towards the Skipper’s palace! Kill any Yorksburg Orc that’s holding a weapon!”
The units dashed towards their destination, running through a huge road which led to the palace.
A large group of Orc emerged from some of the alleyways and got between them and the palace, so the Baron and his allies charged the Yorksburg defenders. The Yorksburg Orcs looked disoriented and lost, but they still formed a formidable frontline, the Orcish speciality; a staunch line of spears. The Baron was leading a squad of 80 men, mostly his own human veterans, and was aided by Udo leading his own squad of 80 men, as well as General Elbertson and his 80 ladz.
The two sides clashed, immediately becoming a whirlwind of sword and spear. The Orc defenders were disorganized, fighting in a group mostly due to the fact that all of the enemy was in one place and Orcish psychology made them almost instinctively work together. The Londonsburg attackers, however, were used to working together. The Baron’s men blocked strikes aimed at their comrades and attacked back in perfect unison.
The Baron slapped a thrust away from one of his men’s neck, saving his life by a hair's breadth and only leaving a shallow trail of gore behind. The soldier in turn blocked a strike aimed at the Baron’s exposed flank and stabbed the Orc through the neck in the same motion. Another Orc rushed forward and bashed a soldier to the ground, laughing as he chambered a thrust.
Suddenly, a shot rang out from the back of the formation. The Baron had brought along a few gunners just in case.
Jeremy’s boyz slammed shield and axe into their attackers, slowly pushing them back. Whenever they saw an opening, their axes dropped into it, killing or maiming any Orc undisciplined enough to lower their guard for even a fleeting moment.
Jeremy thrust his longsword over a shield as one of his boyz’s attacks was blocked, sticking the tip into an Orc’s neck and ripping up. A Yorksburg defender thrust at Jeremy’s open body, but his weapon found an angle and bounced off of his plate armor. Soon after, his hand was quickly hacked off by a boyz ax. As the Orc screamed Jeremy turned and decked him in the face, sending him flying back into his comrades.
Udo blocked a strike to his head, throwing the Orc's sword off to the side and thrusting into his stomach, picking him up and tossing him onto the Orc behind him. An Orc landed a cut across the leg of one of Udo's men, causing him to fall on one knee.
As his attacker moved to kill him, Udo decapitated the Orc, saving the man from certain death. Udo grabbed the fallen swordsman by the collar and threw him backwards to safety. Udo again blocked a strike, throwing it off to the side and slamming him pommel into the Orc’s face, who soon after found two swords sticking out of his chest from either side.
After just a few minutes, the defenders broke, and any Orc unfortunate enough to be running in the path of Baron and his allies were swiftly cut down.
The Baron rushed forward and lunged, his saber piercing the heart of a routing Orc.
“Not as disciplined as Londonsburg, it seems!”
Jeremy laughed heartily and swung upwards, cutting a Yorksburg heathen in half.
“Roight!”
The group moved towards the Skipper’s palace, easily ripping through any defenders they came across. After the last group of defenders they came across ran without fighting back, much to the chagrin of Jeremy, they finally reached the Skipper’s palace.
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“Push ‘em outta tha market! We gotta keep Jake’s back clear! Gán! Ég tileinka þér þetta!”
Fergus jumped forward and stuck his ax in an Orc’s shoulder, dragging him over the makeshift barricade before his comrades could retaliate. Fergus prepared to do it again when someone yelled behind him.
“Fergus! Get down!”
Fergus fell flat on his stomach, stabbing the Orc he plucked out of formation through the heart as he landed, just in case the ax wound didn't kill him already.
He turned his head and saw a line of gunmen, first row kneeling, second row standing, both rows aiming at the barricade. Next to them was Helmut, one arm held high in the air, the other behind his back.
As soon as Helmut dropped his arm the line fired, ripping through the Orc defenders, bullets easily piercing the wooden barricade and killing the Orcs ducked behind it.
“Swordsmen, charge! Muskets! Affix bayonets!”
Fergus pushed himself up and howled, yelling something in his native tongue before leaping over the barricade. The swordsmen followed soon after, killing the stunned and withered Orcs and vaulting over their chest high barricade. All around the market the same thing was happening, allied Orcs assaulting the defender's makeshift barricade, which encompassed almost the entirety of the market.
Formations dissolved away as soldiers broke off to fight lone defenders and any other juicy targets they saw. This was Fergus’s element, the domain of the Berzerkeri: A chaotic battlefield, what the Imperials referred to as ‘Schmutziger Krieg’ or ‘Dirty War’. When all order in the enemy ranks had dissolved, and men fought in small groups or as individuals.
Fergus slid through the legs of an Orc, hooking the beard of his ax on the poor Orc’s ankle, tripping him and running off, trusting that his comrades would finish his work.
Fergus bound up some rubble and leapt at an Orc, smashing right through his raised sword and helmet, splitting the Orc’s head cleanly in half. Fergus ducked under a strike from behind and turned, stabbing the Orc through the thigh with his knuckle dagger, coming up and slicing through the Orc’s throat before bringing his dagger down on the back of another nearby Orc.
Helmut sidestepped a strike and lunged forward, piercing an Orc through the stomach, kicking him over and booting his weapon aside as he weakly tried to reach for it. As he came up he brought his rapier in front of his face and eyed his surroundings. An Orc thrust at him and in one smooth motion he parried the sword and placed the tip of his rapier at Orc’s neck, severing his jugular with a quick flick of the wrist.
He turned to face another Orc and time slowed as he considered the Orc's stance and movements.
Judging by his stance and the angle of his arm, a slash up through my right armpit. I will catch the blade with my dagger and pierce his throat with my rapier.
The Orc lowered his sword and, just as Helmut predicted, began to slash at his right armpit. Helmut put his plan into action, catching and locking the sword with the sharply curved guard of his dagger and thrusting his rapier into Orc’s throat. The Orc let loose a wet gurgling sound as Helmut roughly ripped his rapier out and moved on to the next Orc.
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Ludwin observed the fighting from a nearby bell tower. His job was, as Jack put it, ‘to cause a ruckus ‘n ‘elp ‘ho needs it.’
Ludwin bit his thumbnail as he thought, a mannerism he picked up after spending so much time with the Baron.
“Seems we are needed most by the barracks.”
Ludwin quickly descended the stairs and regrouped with his men nearby.
“We are moving to western Londonsburg, to the great barracks!”
The men acknowledged his words and followed him west. Soon they reached the great barracks. It looked like the attackers were being driven back into the square in front of the barracks, which made sense to Ludwin. If anywhere was going to be well guarded, it was going to be the barracks. Ludwin maneuvered the men around the attackers and raised his sword.
“Charge!”
His men let loose a deafening scream and charged into the unprotected backs of the defenders.
They killed many on impact, and began to slowly chew through the surrounded Orcs. The Orcs here were obviously well trained, possibly veterans. They fought together, protected their comrades, and, most importantly, showed no signs of breaking despite being flanked. From their position, all they needed was one of the pockets of combat to go the defender’s way and they would have Ludwin’s men trapped as well.
Ludwin batted away the sword of an Orc and brought his own down onto his exposed neck. Very few of the Orcs he had seen wore neck armor, mostly just the cavalry and most heavily armed units, which he considered very strange. Almost every mortal wound he had delivered since coming to Orcland was a neck wound.
An Orc thrusted at Ludwin, but his strike was batted aside by a friendly Orc fighter, which Ludwin was only kind of sure was actually an ally, as both sides seemed to wear random and similar colors. Ludwin silently hoped he hadn’t accidentally killed any allies as he shoved an Orc to the ground, half swording down into the Orc’s exposed neck.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Orcs break. He wasn’t entirely sure which side won, so he headed to the back and shouted at the men to turn around and be ready.
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The inside of the Church of York was massive. The building itself was extremely long, Gaius would estimate it to be around 60 meters in length, about twice as large as the senate building in Caprae Loco, though much thinner and blockier. The windows were made of colored glass, depicting what Gaius assumed was the story of York civilizing the Orcs, just as Flavi Hominis did for the Brayherds.
The pews were made of stone, waist high and sturdy in construction. The middle aisle was blocked off with rubble so the defenders could use the pews as rows upon rows of barricades. Gaius swung his massive greatsword down onto an Orc, chopping clean through his entire body and crushing a portion of the pew in front of him with his massive, enchanted weapon, a perk of being born of Caprae nobility.
An arrow flew at Gaius and he deflected it with his gauntlet at the last second.
Flavi above, I wish I had some firearms!
He spotted some archers in the back aiming at him, so he simply plucked a nearby Orc he had dehanded earlier off the ground and used him as a shield, the arrows pincushioning him.
Gaius threw the Orc, who ragdolled into his comrades protecting the next pew in front of him. Gaius vaulted over one pew and landed in the next, sweeping aside Orcs with ease. They were far smaller than he was expecting, and only some of them lived up to their famed strength. Gaius was almost disappointed he was fighting for Londonsburg, his allies seemed to him much more formidable than these weaklings!
Jack punched the throat of an Orc with his shield, wheeling around and hacking another right in half. His weapon was far larger than a normal handax, but Jack also was far larger than a normal Orc and, most importantly, far stronger. As another Yorksburg scum swung, Jack batted aside his sword with his shield and booted the weakling straight through a stone pew, killing him on impact.
“Come on now bruv! You gitz lose da favor ‘o York or somefin’? Put up a fight ya fockin’ poof’s!”
The morale of the defenders seemed strangely low, especially for Orcs. Yorksburg Orcs tended to be even more religious than Londonsburg Orcs, so Jack was expecting the hardest fighting to be at the church.
Lotta fockin’ good dat tought process did me!
Jack continued to push forward with his boyz, the famous Londonsburg ‘Ard Boyz Jack was known for. They would earn their pay today, along with whatever they plundered from Yorksburg city. Jack swung his ax up, lifting an Orc into the air as he cut all the way to his spine. A Yorksburg git swung his sword at Jack’s back, the blow glancing off his armor harmlessly. As he turned to kill whoever struck him, he found one of his boyz headbutting the git repeatedly.
“Dat’s my boyz! Fuck ‘im up!”
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The Baron’s forces managed to push through the defenders, fighting their way through the hallway and coming out the other side, right in the courtyard. Arrows rained down on him and his men from above, either being blocked by shields or deflected by the Baron’s sword and armor.
“Gunners!”
The gunners stepped forwards and fired into the windows above, the archers being thrown back as bullets ripped through them. The Baron sheathed his saber and drew two pistols, aiming each one at an archer and firing, killing both with a bullet to the eye. In front of the Baron was a posse of Orcs, all charging at him and his men. The Baron holstered his pistols and drew his saber, pointing it perfectly horizontally forward as he fell into a narrow and deep stance.
“Destroy them utterly! Turn them into corpses!”
The two sides clashed. Sporadic fire was heard from behind the Baron’s men as his gunners found their targets.
The Baron struck a sword flying at one of his men, stepping forward and sweeping the Orc with his heel, who was swiftly stabbed to death by Klarwasser mercenaries. The Baron turned and found an Orc sword deep in one of his men’s chest.
With blinding speed and crushing force created by gravity magic, the Baron’s saber swiftly severed the Orc’s arm at the elbow before turning to block an oncoming strike. As he blocked, two of his men stepped forward and stabbed the Orc’s open body.
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The Baron retreated back into his formation and began to sign with his hands, his eyes glowing dark green and the surrounding torches quickly dying. He stomped the ground, two large spikes of earth erupting and impaling multiple Orcs at once. The screams of dying Orcs were almost as loud as the erupting spikes themselves.
The Baron stepped back and signed in the air, his eyes this time glowing a bright yellow. He rushed forward and swung his saber, cleaving clean through an Orc’s shield, and the arm holding it, swiftly coming back up and lopping his head off.
Udo shoved the Orc impaled on his sword through a nearby window, turning and dodging under the ax swing of another. From his crouched position Udo jumped up and kneed the Orc in the chest, sending him stumbling back into his comrades.
Udo’s men immediately surged forth, thrusting and slicing their way through the newly stumbled group of Orcs. Udo kicked another Orc in the head with enough force to send him tumbling out the window, ducking under another strike and coming up sword point first into the bottom of the Orc’s jaw.
Udo ripped the sword as he was hit in the back, being pushed back and nearly getting stumbled by the force of the attack. Luckily, the axe had impacted his plate, only driving the breath out of him a bit instead of killing him outright.
Udo stopped himself and turned to address his enemy. This Orc was wearing plate armor, which Udo figured meant he was important. The two exchanged blows at blinding speed, their men around them protecting them as others tried to strike while they were occupied with each other.
Udo ducked under a swipe of the Orc’s handaxe and thrust his pommel at his chest, which he blocked easily, going back to swiping at Udo. This Orc was the most skilled Udo had come across so far. He was using feints and misdirection like a true master of battle, which he most likely was.
Udo parried another downward stroke, letting it run down the length of his sword, and kicked the Orc’s knee with as much force as he could muster. The Orc stumbled and Udo stabbed up at his jaw. The Orc managed to parry the strike and send out one of his own, even as he struggled to regain his footing.
As Udo raised his guard to block, the axe’s direction changed, racing towards his neck. Udo barely moved over enough to avoid being gored, just taking a large gash across the side of his neck.
Udo quickly grabbed his sword in the middle and thrust at the gaps in the Orc’s armor, jabbing through his elbow pit, not deep enough to completely disable it, but certainly deep enough to slow him down. The Orc roared and swung up and back down at Udo, who barely managed to deflect each strike. As the Orc chambered a thrust with the eye of his axe, Udo jumped forward, planting his feet on the Orc’s thighs and grabbing the collar of the Orc’s armor, flipping him up and over Udo onto the floor.
Udo straddled the Orc’s chest and began to wail on his face. The Orc quickly brought up his guard and weaved between Udo’s strikes. The Orc mustered up the strength to shove Udo off him, but as he attempted to stand up Udo grabbed his foot and pulled him to the ground again, slamming the back of his head into the white marble floor.
Udo quickly clambered over the Orc and drew the long, thin dagger at his waist, stabbing him through the bottom of his jaw, withdrawing his knife and stabbing any exposed spot he could think of.
As soon as he was finished he roared at the ceiling, jumping up and grabbing his longsword. The two sides had stopped fighting, content with simply observing the duel between their leaders. Udo clicked his tongue.
Fuckin’ Orcs. Keep fighting, dipshits.
As Udo raised his longsword at a nearby Orc, the Orc dropped his weapons and raised his arms in surrender, soon followed by the rest of the defenders. Udo tilted his head to the side.
“I thought Orcs didn’t surrender?”
The Orcs shook their heads.
“We do! Orcs don't break, 's different!”
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The Baron’s men finished off the remaining Orcs in the courtyard before realizing that the Skipper was nowhere to be seen, His throne abandoned, covered in blood and ripped patches of cloth.
“He’s probably be on the second floor! Follow me men!”
The men cheered and followed after the Baron as he ran off. They find the top of the stairs blocked off by more Orcs. The Baron’s eyes began to glow yellow and he made some hand signals. He thrust his hand forward, a huge wave of gravity hit the Orcs, sending them flying off in different directions. The torches on the wall were completely snuffed out in less than a second as he drew all of the energy he could into his own body.
“Forward! They’re disorganized!”
The Baron’s band, which had grown as allies got lost in the city and linked up with the Baron, descended on the scattered Orcs, tearing them all the shreds.
The Baron flew forwards, sprinting through the hall with the grace of a ballet dancer. Each Orc he came near suddenly collapsed with huge gaping wounds on the front of their necks as the Baron’s elegant technique found holes in their defenses.
The Baron’s men finished off Orcs who had fallen and tackled those who had gotten up, finishing them off soon after. The Londonsburg Orcs who found their way to the Baron did as his men did, tackling and methodically hacking Yorksburg gits to pieces. An arrow flew past the Baron and he turned to find the source.
Unprotected archers! My favorite kind of archer! God’s light shines upon me this day!
The Baron swung his saber forward in the direction of the archers and yelled as he ran.
“Get them! Kill the archers! Let's have some fun with it men!”
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Gaius and Jack’s men made it to the end of the hall, killing any Yorksburg gitz who refused to retreat deeper into the church. Jack was, honestly, highly dissappointed in his enemy. They were not holding very well, and even during the siege and sacking of their beloved holy city their morale was shockingly low, especially for Orcs.
However, Jack was too experienced to allow this dissapointment to show to his men. He was a leader, not just a warrior. He screamed a battle cry and raised his axe high in the air.
“Roight boyz, we’z got dis! Onward an' Upward! For da glory o' London!”
The boyz all yelled victory cries as Jack busted down the large wooden door leading to the priest’s quarters. All Jack found was a single, massive, Orc, on his knees praying with two massive seaxes in front of him, surrounded by other priests of York, the rest unarmed and obviously surrendering. Jack entered the room, a pep in his step and a smug smile on his face.
“Greg! So good to find you ‘ere! I was 'fraid da Baron were gonna find youz at ya palace! Good to see dat I can finally 'ave a good scrap!”
Greg, Skipper of Yorksburg, finished his prayer before solemnly standing up, gesturing for his priests to move back, and picked up the two seax swords, the traditional sword of York.
“Jack. Good to finally meet youz roight propa. Youz really fink youz is gonna win dis scrap? I got da mandate o’ York, ‘n youz is gonna lose da love o’ London soon 'nough.”
Jack nonchalantly wiped some viscera off of a pauldron with his thumb.
“Oh yeh? Why’z dat?”
The Skipper of Yorksburg scowled, growling out his reply, the windows rumbling as his deep voice filled the room.
“Cuz youz gonna fuckin’ die.”
Greg shot forward and struck at Jack’s head and legs. He crouched and blocked easily with his massive round shield, a smile on his face as seax scraped against enchanted wood and iron. Greg came up and delivered lightning fast blows to Jack, which he blocked and parried with similarly inhuman speeds.
Greg stabbed Jack’s stomach but was stopped by his enchanted armor. Jack swung down at Greg, who stepped to the side and kept up a never ending onslaught of attacks. Jack countered with his own blindingly fast attacks, moving with far more speed and grace than someone so large wielding such massive weapons should.
Greg thrust up at Jack’s head, cutting a trail of gore through the side of his face, and Jack responded by bashing Greg’s face with his shield. Greg barely even flinched as he continued his attacks, aiming thrusts at the gaps in Jack’s armor and slashing at his helmetless head whenever an opportunity arose.
Jack swung his hefty axe at Greg’s body, forcing him to dodge back. Jack continued his assault, chopping with great speed and precision and bashing with his shield to keep Greg back.
Greg was pushed back into a wall, hitting it hard and driving the breath out of him. Jack raised his axe to deliver the final blow when Greg tucked and rolled past the downward strike, going through his leg and dragged his knife across them, leaving long, deep gashes on the back of both of Jack’s thighs, coming back up and thrusting at Jack’s head.
Jack caught the seax with the beard of his axe, punching the middle of the blade with his shield and breaking it in half. Greg thrust with his other seax and Jack knocked the blow aside, slamming down with his axe. Greg stepped to the side and cut through Jack’s armpit, not deep enough to reach anything vital, though still deep enough to slow him down over time.
Greg thrust at Jack and he raised his shield. The seax pierced right through it, and less than a second later Greg reeled back and his eyes flashed Orc green as he delivered a palm strike to the middle of the shield, cracking the wood and leaving a massive palm print dead center, the force of his faith enhanced strike sending dust and dirt flying into the air, creating a cloud which reduced visiblity slightly.
Jack swung at Greg, who dodged under and stabbed Jack’s thigh, going through but not hitting anything important. Jack punched Greg back, leaving the seax wedged firmly in his leg. Jack tapped the seax with his axe and laughed.
“You ain’t ‘it da bone, or artery, Greg. Youz is gettin’ rusty.”
Greg cooly cracked his knuckles and nodded.
“No shit bruv. I’m pushin’ 60.”
Jack whistled at that and smiled.
“Damn, dat’s real old. dough I know a guy just like you. Probably tearin’ roight trough your gitz at da palace.”
Greg growled and his eyes again glowed Orcish green as he rushed at Jack, dodging and redirecting his strikes as the Chosen of York tried to get inside his guard, dodging under an axe strike and coming up right by the shield arm, grabbing it and palm striking Jack in the chest, pushing him back and deftly dislodging the shield right from his arm, tossing it aside. Jack cracked his neck and slapped his axe across his chest as he roared.
“Come an’ get me ya old cunt!”
Greg rushed forward and struck at Jack’s face and chest in between dodging and parrying his axe. Greg ducked another swing and delivered a roundhouse to Jack’s injured thigh. Jack barely even flinched and grabbed Greg’s leg, lifting his axe above his head.
Greg jumped in place, twisting his body and delivering a sidekick to Jack’s chest, sending him stumbling unsteadily back.
Just as Jack regained his footing Greg dashed forward, kicking the ankle of his less injured leg, forcing Jack down on one knee. As Jack kneeled, arms limp at his side, Greg darted forward again and grabbed Jack’s head with both hands, leaning back for a headbutt.
Just as Greg’s head reached its apex, Jack’s unoccupied hand shot up, ripping the seax out of his knee and slicing clean through Greg’s jugular in a single movement.
The room was dead silent, and soon the only sound that could be heard was the hard breathing of Jack, and the splattering of blood on the wood floor. Greg stumbled back, clutching his profusely bleeding throat. He stumbled around, trying desperately to get his footing. He tripped over to a nearby wall and tried to hold himself up with one arm, but he could feel the strength leaving him fast as the seconds passed.
As Greg fell to his knees, Jack stood over him, axe lifted above his head. Greg looked up at Jack, smiling, and tilted his head down to allow for a clean strike. Jack nodded thankfully and dropped his axe down, decapitating Greg.
After a few seconds of processing what just happened, the Londonsburg Orcs cheered, and the rest of the Yorksburg defenders dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, any resistance left slowly fading from their eyes as they watched dark ichor pool around the shoulders of the Chosen of York.
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Ludwin’s men and their allies were slowly but surely pushing the defenders back into the Grand Barracks.
The entrance was large enough for six Orcs to stand side by side, which made the defender’s job a bit harder as about twice as many humans could fit in the same space. Ludwin blocked a thrust aimed at his head and thrust back, being blocked in turn. He was always slower than the other lieutenants.
Though he is legally defined as a gifted one, his abilities were only somewhat higher than the average person, instead of being significantly higher. Ludwin was incredibly thankful that the Baron knew how to use him, namely, as a commander instead of a soldier. Ludwin thrust his sword into a defending Orc’s neck.
Well, at least he tries to use me that way.
Thought Ludwin as he blocked another strike aimed at his head. One of his men stabbed through the thigh of the Orc engaged with Ludwin, and the men next to him thrust through the Orc’s chest before he could even finish his scream. Ludwin nodded appreciatively.
“Good work men! Keep it up! We’re almost through! Just a bit more and we can break them!”
As the men kept thrusting and pushing in unison, a rumbling was heard from behind. Ludwin extracted himself from the formation and turned to see who was coming. It looked to be about eight squads guessing by the presence of a few Orcs in plate armor, as well as Fergus, Helmut, and Gaius.
Leading from the front was Jack, the Skipper of Londonsburg, holding a pike with a massive head mounted on it, about twice as large as a watermelon, maybe even larger. After shouting more encouragements to his men and leaving command to a seargent, Ludwin ran over to ask who’s head was on the stick, silently praying that it would mean an end to the fighting.
“‘O’s ‘ead is it? Greg’s! Skipper o’ Yorksburg, Chosen o’ York! Da gitz in da barracks’l surrender roight quick wifout deir skipper.”
“Great! Come on then!”
Ludwin ran back over to the entrance of the Barracks, yelling in his very rough Orcish he had picked up over the past few months.
“Yo!! Orcs o’ York! Stop fighting! We ‘ave somethin’ to show youz!”
The fighting continued on, despite Ludwin’s increasingly frantic yelling. Jack walked over and put a hand on Ludwin’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath.
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOYZ! GREG’S DEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!”
The ground shook and Ludwin's ears rang as Jack screamed at the top of his lungs. That got the attention of every Orc around, and the fighting quickly began to slow. Ludwin ran over to his men.
“Clear the area! Make way for Jack! And don’t attack anyone not holding a weapon!”
As Ludwin’s men parted around the entrance, an Orc wearing ill fitting and incredibly bloody plate armor stepped out.
“Greg’s dead? Shit. Roight boyz, wez lost. Trow down your arms.”
The Yorksburg Orcs immediately did as he said while Jack smiled and walked over to the enemy leader.
“Your boyz is gonna wanna be roight as rain for when we leave. Gonna need to rebuild lotz o’ shit, yeah?”
The Orcish commander crossed his arms and nodded his head sagely.
“Roight, yea, youz is roight. Go on an’ get de ofer gitz to stop foightin’. Wez is gonna see to da wounded.”
Ludwin was completely bewildered. They were taking their loss a little too well.
There HAS to be a catch.
The commander walked over and punched Jack’s shoulder, laughing as he spoke.
“Next time, wez is gonna be sackin’ Londonsburg, yeah?”
Jack laughed hard and slapped the commander’s shoulder a few times.
“Ha! Pffffft! Yeah bruv! Maybe after I kick da bucket!”
Oh, Thought Ludwin, So…it’s like…a game to them?
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The Baron kicked down a door, finding nothing. That pattern was being repeated all around him. He frowned and turned to the man next to him.
“What, did we kill every enemy Orc in this God forsaken building?”
The Baron moved over and kicked down another door, finding two Orcs cowering behind a flipped over table.
“Are you combatants?”
One of the Orcs gingerly peaked his head over the desk.
“N-no! Wez is bureaucrats!”
The Baron scowled and clicked his tongue, then caught himself and smiled.
“Ah, I see. Good day then.”
The Baron left that room to go find more enemy combatants, only finding open doors and grumbling allies. One of his men, a large and imposing shocktrooper named Freidrick, walked over to him, his sword actively dripping with Orcish blood.
“Baron, I think we got ‘em all.”
The Baron nodded, crossed his arm across his chest, and bit his thumbnail.
“Yes, I’m starting to believe that as well…gather all the men by the stairs we came from, it looks like it’s time to move on. The Skipper is not in his palace.”
The man saluted and ran off, and the Baron walked over to the stairs. Out the window the Baron spotted a huge group heading their direction, hundreds of Orcs and humans covered in armor and blood and carrying weapons. At the center of the procession was Jack, holding a long stick with a gigantic head stuck on it.
“That’s probably the Skipper.”
The men the Baron brought with him to assault the palace were running over to him.
“Men! I believe our work in Orcland is done! Let us head down and meet up with the rest of our army!”
The men saluted and then followed after the Baron. On the way down, the Baron noted the carnage he and his men had caused. There were dead Orcs lying everywhere, on the ground, slumped against walls, some were even covered in broken glass and thrown halfway through the windows.
How many did I kill today? I honestly don’t know. Maybe that’s a problem? Maybe I need to go to confession. It’s been like, at least a decade, I think. Maybe two or three at this point.
As the Baron’s group left the palace they found Udo and Jeremy’s group also waiting for Jack to arrive. The Baron moved over to Udo and slapped his back hard.
“Hey, did you kill everyone on the first floor? There are no combatants alive on the second.”
Udo turned to look at the Baron and proudly thumped his chest.
“No, we didn’t! They surrendered to me!”
The Baron smiled brightly and patted Udo on the shoulder.
“That’s some damn fine work then! What did you do with them?”
“Jeremy said that since they surrendered they were harmless, so we let them go. I felt it was weird, but hey, I’m not an Orc.”
The Baron nodded sagely.
“Well said. I find myself saying that exact thing very often these days.”
The two groups met and began celebrating. They had fully subjugated Yorksburg in less than a day, likely due to some unknown stressor that caused their morale to be surprisingly low. Gaius swept Udo up in a hug, and Fergus followed suit with Ludwin. Helmut watched contentedly from a safe distance. He never was a fan of physical contact.
Jeremy and the Baron walked over to Jack. Jack proudly thrust the head on a stick forward towards them. He was covered in blood, viscera, and bandages.
“We did it! Wez won! Now’s just time for a quick takin’ valuables ‘n runnin’ back ‘ome!”
Jeremy roared with approval. The Baron just nodded his head.
“Sounds great, shame my men don’t go marauding, I find it distasteful, though obviously you Orcs have different ways of going about that sort of thing. I’ll leave that part to you Londonsburg Orcs. Jack, if you wouldn’t mind, may I bring my men back to Londonsburg now so we can be ready to depart? They are quite tired of getting frostbite multiple times again, and Geidpfeld is tired of treating dozens of cases of frostbite every hour.”
Jack laughed raucously.
“Roight, ‘umans don’t loik da cold much as we! Youz go do dat! We’ll talk ‘fore you leave, just come see me at my palace!”
The Baron gratefully inclined his head and put his hand over his heart.
“I thank you for that. It was a pleasure working alongside you.”
The Baron smiled dangerously.
“I hope we can cooperate again in the future.”
Jack returned his smile.
“Roight, yeah bruv! Wez gotta do dat!”
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The Klarwasser mercenary company had loaded all of their things into their wagons and were waiting by the gates to leave. The Baron still had business with Jack to attend to, but after that it was time for them to go home. The Baron sipped the whiskey offered to him gratefully. He hadn’t had a drink for a full five or so weeks, ever since he garrisoned Castle Cornwall.
“Roight, so, youz gitz did a bloody fantastic job! Youz ‘as more dan just earned my axe, you earned my ‘eartfelt respect. ‘Ad a feelin’ you would, what wif your rep!”
Jack kicked his legs up onto to his desk put his hands behind his head.
“So, do you know what youz want us to do, or will youz discuss it wif me closer to rebellion time?”
“I have some ideas as to what I want you to do. It would mostly be harassment detail,I do not require a full scale invasion of the Empire.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief.
“Tank London! I was ‘fraid dat’s exactly what you’d ask.”
“Of course, I just wanted to begin with assuaging your fears.”
Jack nodded his head.
“‘Preciate it.”
They both waited for the other to speak, and after a few seconds the Baron began.
“Right, so, I would mostly want you to look like an invasion is imminent, and also generally harassing northern Imperial provinces. I would want for you to send occasional warbands down into Jagstadt and cause trouble down there, and possibly attack Imperial ships in and around Der Gröss See, or whatever you in Orcland call the channel separating Londonsburg and Grössenstadt. All I wish from you is for you to divert Imperial supplies away from the Grössenstadt-Bickenstadt border.”
“Roight, yeah. I can do dat easy. Just send me da word ‘n I’ll start sendin’ my boyz down dere.”
“Excellent. Well then, that is really all we have to discuss. All I have left to do is see if the Orcs I hired are willing to live in Bickenstadt or if they wish to be let go. So, I’ll see to that. As I said before, It was a pleasure working alongside you.”
“Roight back atcha!”
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The Baron was informing all of his newly acquired Orc soldiers that if they wanted to stay in Orcland, they could. They would just have their names stricken from the register so they’re no longer employed. One of the Orcs smiled and emerged from the crowd.
“Well, Me 'n da boyz been talkin’ ‘bout it since youz ‘ired us. Yeah, wez wanna live in Bickenstadt! Workin’ for youz wez gonna see bunch o’ shit we ain’t seen ‘fore!”
The Baron blinked, not hiding his somewhat shocked expression.
“Wait, so…do you all want to come?”
An Orc raised his hand.
“I don’t. ‘Eard Jim ‘n da Williamson boyz ain’t goin’ neifer.”
A couple of Orcs yelled their agreements. A Gob spoke up without raising his hand.
“Roight, so, most ‘o us ain’t goin’ to Bickenstadt. I fink like ten or so ‘o us wanna go, roight boyz?"
Ten or so Gobs voiced their agreements.
“Alright then. You are all let go. You have been paid already, so you have no more business here. It was a pleasure working with you gentlemen. If you ever change your minds, just come to Bickenstadt. Our coffers are always open to good soldiers!”
They all shouted their agreements again. The Baron turned to Ludwin.
“We should probably send word to Wolfgang, tell him to construct an Orc quarter. Enough housing for, say, 150 or so men? Eh, Orcs? Can you write the letter and send one of our skirmishers to ride ahead of us?”
Ludwin gave the Baron a crisp salute.
“Of course, Baron. I’ll get right on that.”
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After just five months of freezing in Orcland, and a week's worth of crossing the Empire, the Klarwasser mercenary company had finally arrived home. They quickly made their way through the cheering crowds, hoping to finish and go back to their homes after months of being in a strange, cold, foreign land. As they unloaded everything in the courtyard of Castle Bickenstadt, Wolfgang was yelling at the Baron.
“You can’t give me just four days notice and expect me to build enough permanent housing for 150 Orcs! We don’t even know how big we’re supposed to make things!”
The Baron cracked a small smile.
“It should be around me-sized.”
“This isn’t funny! Where are they going to live in the meantime?! In tents outside the city?”
The Baron nodded.
“Yes. They’re from Orcland, our weather is hardly going to bother them. Orcs and Gobs are quite hardy, I’ll have you know. They’ll live in a camp just outside of Bickenstadt, and if they don’t like it they can go home. Trust me son, they won’t complain. I may appear to be doing things arbitrarily, well I do do many things arbitarily-but I do put thought into the things I do, I'm not an idiot.”
Wolfgang pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his temples, sighing heavily.
“I know. I know, alright? You just give me too much to do on such short notice and very little direction. Consistently. The note you left on my desk before leaving just says ‘create a people’s court’. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”
The Baron shrugged, his voice carrying with it a sense of airheadedness.
“I want the citizens of Bickenstadt to start thinking for themselves, proposing policy and acting on it by themselves. Feel like it’s not THAT hard to figure out.”
Wolfgang opened his mouth to argue, but the Baron cut him off, putting on a much more serious face and tone of voice.
“Wolfgang, if I want to create democracy in this God forsaken country, I need to teach people how to do it. Now, I will admit, my note was rather vague, and I am sorry for that-I promise to do better in the future, but now I am here, and I will work with you on creating it.”
Wolfgang furrowed his brow.
“You being here now doesn’t change the fact that you left me horrible instructions and then left for five months!”
The Baron looked like he remembered something important.
“Oh right! This may not be the right time for this, but I want to legalize Christianity and build a cathedral. I was thinking Romaneqsue in style, or maybe Baroque.”
Wolfgang stared at the Baron in utter bewilderment.
“You…you what? Christianity?”
“Yes. I wish to stop persecuting Christians. They’re the only people in the Empire nowadays with ideas worth a damn. I like their afterlife, it’s nice. And their prophet believed in radical kindness, a thing which I believe we need now more than ever!”
“But…but you’re a warrior? Are you a Christian? Can you even be a Christian warrior?”
“The short answer is yes, but we can discuss the finer points of theology later, just announce that Christianity is legal now and that we’re building a church. I think I’m going to go with Baroque. Oh, how about Renaissance?”
Are these even terms they use in this world?
“Dad, this has to be a joke, right?”
“Nope. I am Christian. I want to be able to practice my faith openly, Imperial law be damned. I doubt the Empress will care enough to do anything about it. Just get it done dammit.”
The Baron quickly walked off and started helping his men unload things from carts. Wolfgang stood completely still, jaw hanging open.
“But your…But he’s…Christ…what?”
The Baron turned around and threw a large bag of coins at Wolfgang.
“Just do it!”
Wolfgang slowly picked up the bag and headed towards the castle.
"By the gods, I need a drink."