Chapter 2

“This is a nice study. Quite cozy. The fireplace is a nice touch, I should consider having one installed.”

“Do Bickenstadt even get snow?”

“Not really. Still gets chilly from time to time, though.”

“Ain’t as cold as Grossenburg, so I’ve ‘eard.”

“Well, it’s more about relative temperature than raw numbers. Anyways, we have much to discuss, I imagine.”

The Skipper grabbed the bottle sitting on his desk and pushed a glass to the Baron.

“You drink? Whisky. Made in ‘ouse. Roight beneaf our feet!”

“Yes, I do. I do not get much opportunity to have Orc made alcohol, simply not that popular down south.”

The Skipper poured whisky in the Baron’s glass and his own.

“Can’t imagine why. I’m quite privy to da stuff m’self. Like da burn.”

The Baron took a sip of his whisky. It was nice. Good burn. Strong, but doesn’t taste like nail polish remover.

“This is quite nice, I will give you that. But, I do prefer my brandy. Poire Lucinde is what I tend to drink nowadays. Very nice, though very expensive.”

“As I’d expect from da richest man in da world!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say richest in the world, but I’m getting there. Anyways, let us talk business.”

“Roight, youz ‘ere for a reason after all. Let me give you a proper introduction. I is ‘Mad’ Jack, Skipper o’ London! Da boyz callz me ‘Mad’, but I fink I’m plenty nice, personally!”

“I am Baron Johan von Bickenstadt, Baron of both Bickenstadt and Holenstadt. Head of the Klarwasser Mercenary Company. Known simply as The Baron.”

“Great to officially meet you, Baron von Bickenstadt. You know, I’z actually a fan of youz. Klarwasser is great! You and dat ofer git georg is da only gitz from da Empire dat I like! Youz ‘ead one of the legendary mercs of our age! Right next to da Night Parade and my ‘Ard Boyz.”

“It’s an honor to hear that from the most accomplished mercenaries in the known world.”

“Great! Feelz great to be honored by one o' da most accomplished mercs in da known world! An’ speakin’ o’ mercs, I assume youz is ‘ere to sell your sword, yeah?”

The Baron sat up straighter in his chair.

“Yes. I am offering the services of the Klarwasser Mercenary Company to the Orcs of Londonsburg.”

“Den youz gits is ‘ired! Wez been ‘aving some spats wif do’es gits in Yorksburg, deyz gonna be invadin’ ‘fore long. Wez'l ‘ire you for, say, six months to a year? ‘Owever long da fightin’ takes.”

“You know, I do charge a premium for my services. We are some of the best in the world, after all.”

Jack waved his hand dismissively.

“I don’t much care ‘ow much you charge, wez take what wez can get! Dough…I would like to keep yer costs down a bit...maybe wez could provide you lot wif stuff to ‘elp?”

The Baron took another sip of his whisky.

“Well, perhaps if you offered to repair our gear free of charge, and maybe provide us with more black powder, I’d be willing to offer you a discount.”

Jack scratched his bald head in thought.

“Hm. Yeah, wez can do dat! Don’t know ‘ow much powder wez can get to you, but wez got some good smiths ‘angin’ ‘round ‘ere!”

“Oh, and could you possibly provide food for us?”

“Consider it done! An’, if youz is willing, youz can take war plunder if you let us pay you less.”

“No thank you. I do not like the idea of my men looting and marauding, that’s simply not something we do.”

Jack’s shoulders deflated slightly.

“Well, your loss. So, ‘ow much youz want us payin’ youz?”

“My going rate is currently around 70,000 Reiskgeld per month, or something equivalent to that.”

Jack slightly cringed at the number the Baron threw out.

“Well, I have about 785 mouths to feed, not including the overhead costs of maintaining the company’s mercenary license, maintaining our equipment, buying black powder, all that good stuff. You’re paying for a professional army, not simply a band of men with swords.”

Jack scratched the back of his head in thought, taking a drink of his whisky before continuing.

“Alright. I can’t say youz ain’t costin’ me much, but goin’ by your record, it’le be worf every bloody pence!”

“Alright then, we have a deal. We will standby waiting for your orders. Should I call you ‘boss’ now?”

“Nah, just call me Jack. Wez in similar station, roight? ‘Ead back to your Inn an’ wait for orders. I can’t imagine you’ll be waitin’ too long!”

They both shared a laugh and the Baron got up to leave. Jack raised his hand and gestured for the Baron to sit back down.

“Wait, before you go, I’z got some advice for youz. Stuff ‘bout fightin’ in da snow, an’ fightin' 'gainst Orcs.”

The Baron sat back in his chair, grabbing and finishing his glass of whisky.

“Alright then, do tell.”

“If youz gonna be fightin’ in da snow, I advice you get some sunglasses made. Deyz cheep, so it shouldn’t be a problem. If you don’t wear dem, youz can go blind. Not sure why doe, just know it ‘appens.”

“Noted, I’ll work on that when I get back. Also, I believe I know why. The sunlight gets reflected off of the snow and into your eyes, and, if you spend enough time dealing with that, your eyes get sunburnt.”

“Huh, neat. Good to know why. Aside from dat, maybe invest in snowshoes? Da snow usually gets packed ‘nough for it to not be a problem, but they wouldn’t ‘urt.”

“I’ll think about that one. Now, your advice for fighting Orcs?”

“After one more fing ‘bout fightin’ in snow. Try not to use much magic, wif de exception o’ ice magic. Offer magics expel ‘eat, ice magic gaffers it. Be real careful wif your medics, too. If dey don’t spent lots o’ time dis far norf, dey might not know deir limits and end up freezin’ to deaf. Seen it ‘appen, kinda sad. I know youz is a mage, I advise you try to keep it to a minimum.”

“What? I can’t use magic here?”

“No, no, I didn’t say dat. I’m telling youz to be right careful ‘bout it, youz can freeze to deaf real easy out ‘ere.”

The Baron sighed heavily.

“I am a mage of Gravity, Earth, and Fire. The three least efficient schools of magic. And now I find myself in a place where efficiency of magic is suddenly very important. Excellent.”

“Oh right, youz a Gravity Mage. Wez don’t get any of d’oes out ‘ere. Would you mind showin’ me some?”

The Baron sighed and stood up from his chair.

“No, not at all.”

The Baron took a deep breath, drawing the energy from the torches on the walls to him, his eyes glowing a bright yellow. He did some hand signals and violently clenched his fists in front of him. As soon as his hands closed he started levitating off the ground. The Baron smiled and made more hand signals with his left hand, gesturing to his glass, which floated over to him.

“Gravity magic is all about manipulating the Earth’s gravitational field. I can levitate by lowering the force of gravity around me, making me weightless, and then creating a short line of gravitational force greater than the pull of gravity acting on me, underneath me, which pushes me up, or, more accurately, pulls me up. I can draw objects to me by lowering the force of gravity around the object, then creating a line of gravitational force which pulls the object in a certain direction, namely, towards my hand. Do you mind if I destroy something?”

Jack’s jaw hung open in amazement.

“You can break dat glass, I gotz plenty.”

The Baron nodded his head in thanks and thrust the hand with the glass out towards the middle of the room. The glass floated gently to the middle and stopped. The Baron did some more hand signals with his hands and again violently clenched his fist. After a moment of silence, the glass started to shake. After a few more seconds the glass started to creak, small cracks forming throughout it. Finally, there was a loud snapping sound, and the glass collapsed in on itself, creating a ball of finely crushed glass. The Baron closed his eyes and breathed out gently, the yellow glowing leaving his eyes, slowly lowering himself and the glass ball to the ground.

“I can crush things by increasing the force of gravity on an object. Because of how gravity surrounds everything, it crushes objects into a perfect ball. Such a thing can be done to people, but it takes much more energy, and it is an extremely slow and painful process, unless you increase the gravity field's density by a whole lot. The problem with that is the denser you make it, the harder it is to control. Many a gravity mage have been killed by accidentally creating a small black hole. Luckily for the rest of us, the black hole dissipates as soon as it kills the mage, so it’s generally over pretty fast.”

“Wow, dats cool as ‘ell! Why aren't dere more Gravity Mages?”

The Baron sat back in his chair, smiling at the smoldering remains of the torches on the walls, and then frowned at the memory of his academic career. As much as I enjoy academia, writing all those papers...my dissertation...shudder at the thought.

“Well, as with all magic, learning Gravity Magic is an academic process. It’s mostly learning physics, and most people find that be much more boring than the other schools, though I personally enjoy it. Also, learning Gravity Magic is dangerous, every Gravity Mage has been deatomized at least once.”

Jack scratched the back of his bald head.

“What’s dat mean?”

“Well, you know what Atoms are, right?”

Jack nodded his head yes.

“Well, if you lose control of Gravity near you, sometimes it will rip you apart, atom by atom. It is unbelievably painful, which will make it harder to concentrate, which then speeds up the process of you getting deatomized. If you’re lucky, meaning it starts at your feet, and you regain control over your gravitational field, you can build yourself back up. But sometimes the process starts near your shoulders, and if the deatomization reaches your head, it’s over. It is extremely frightening and unbelievably painful, which is also why Gravity Mages are known to have very high pain tolerances. We can deatomize people on purpose, as sort of an offensive spell, but that is generally a last resort. We know just how painful it is, and after experiencing it, well, it becomes a bit hard to willing to subject another person to that. Though for some that’s not really a problem.”

“Wait, so, youz been ‘deatomized’?”

The Baron tenderly touched his neck.

“Yeah, I did. Started in my feet, but it still almost reached my head. I managed to stop it around my shoulders. Unbelievably painful. But, I can generally take a lot of pain now, though. And it’s extremely useful and versatile.”

“‘Ow so?”

“Well, if a wagon gets stuck, I can just lift it using gravity magic. Same with any heavy building materials, makes building both infrastructure and last minute defenses a dream. And, combined with Earth magic, it makes construction go by much faster. It can also be used for fighting, and not just throwing people around or deatomizing them. If you can get fine enough control, which I have, you can increase and decrease the weight of your weapons during combat, so you can move faster and hit harder. Also, something only I have been able to do, so far as I know, is control where bullets go. If I’m properly prepared I will never miss a shot. And, while it’s a bit overkill, nothing ends a fight faster than being deatomized.”

“Woah. Dat’s ‘ardcour. Think I’z gonna stick to Ice Magic. Where’d you find time to learn dat an’ Earf ‘n Fire Magic?”

“Well, I’m hardly a master at those two, I specialize in Gravity Magic, but I can summon Earth spikes and shoot fire out of my fists. For both of those I generally use a method pioneered by the Singh Raajavansh down south around the 4th century, using martial arts as a medium for casting. I’ve found it makes my attacks more powerful, and performing martial arts generates a lot of body heat, which helps with casting.”

Jack scratched his bald head, very impressed.

“I didn’t fink you’d be teachin’ me anyfin’ today! I feel I learned more in da past 5 minutes than in the past 5 months! Let’s move on to my advice for fightin’ Orcs so youz can rest for a bit.”

“Alright, fair enough. I’ll take any advice which will help me overcome my foes.”

“So, when plannin’ for fightin’ Orcs, I recommend youz don’t plan on dem routin’ or nothing. Wez just don’t break, don’t know why. Many Orc warriors wear crimson sunglasses, makes ‘em fearless. Also don’t know why, just does a number on da Orc ‘eadstuff. Unless deyz in an unbelievably bad situation, Orcs don’t run ‘less dey’re told to.”

The Baron looked at Jack incredulously.

“Well, many claim to have the most disciplined soldiers, but everyone runs when shit hits the fan.”

“When shit ‘its da what?”

“It’s an expression, means something is going very poorly.”

“Ah, well, it’s true. Wez got da best. Youz’l just ‘ave to see. Orcs is disciplined, religious, an’ strong. Youz got your work cut out for you!”

“That remains to be seen. Now, anything else before I leave?”

“Well, I know dis is generally ‘good practice’, but make sure Orc cavalry don’t reach you, an’ if dey do, make sure dey're ‘urt real good. Wez got da best cavalry, an’ York’s got da best cavalry in Orcland by far. Dey been known to charge pikemen and win.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Aside from my Pikemen being fine soldiers, my rifles will rip apart anything that enters our range.”

“I wouldn’t be too confident. Orcs are known to kick you in da teef if you're not proper ready!”

The Baron smiled and stood up from his chair.

“That applies to all peoples. Before I go, can I ask you something important?”

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“Well, now that I think about it, such a thing would be better to ask when I’ve proven myself useful to you. Just, keep it in the back of your mind I have something important to discuss with you, something political, about the Empire.”

Jack leaned forward on his desk, propping himself up by his elbow.

“Tell you what. ‘Elp kick Yorksburg’s teef right proper, an’ I’ll do whatever you ask me in the future.”

The Baron smiled and turned to leave Jack’s study.

“Sounds good to me.”

A few days after the Baron first met with the Skipper of Londonsburg, he was called back to the palace to attend a strategic meeting, in which he would receive his first marching orders. The meeting was taking place in the courtyard, which the Baron found very strange. A large square table was brought out and placed right in front of Jack’s throne. Spread out on the table were maps of varying detail, from maps which showed the general shape of Orcland, to maps which showed specific terrain details like hills and forests and lakes.

Mulling around the table were 12 Orcs and the Baron. All of the Orcs wore plate armor of many different styles, colors, and states of repair. One Orc , who was particularly notable for seemingly having more scar tissue than normal tissue, had a set of armor with obvious punctures in it, with splotches of dried blood which looked a little too fresh for him to have had that armor for any real length of time. The Baron wondered if he cared more about looking scary than being functional, or if he just hadn’t had the chance to fix his war plunder yet. As the Baron was trying to figure out what scarface was going for, Jack cleared his throat, quieting the discussions being had and drawing all eyes to him.

“Well boyz, it’s official. We’z at war wif Yorksburg!”

The Orcs all cheered as loud as they could. Two of them clasped hands and headbutt each other, roaring loudly at the sky as they both came away with a trail of blood running down their foreheads. The Baron joined in shortly, taking turns with the scarred Orc punching each other in manly celebration over the prospect of glory. As Jack quieted down the Orcs, the Baron thought about his lieutenants. Honestly, doing things with Udo and Fergus feels pretty similar to this. Good to know idiots like us are the same no matter what race they belong to.

“Alroight ladz, much as I’d love to begin the skull crackening, Yorksburg’s gonna invade us first. So wez gonna be defendin’ for now. An’ ‘fore you gitz complain, defendin’ still means crackin’ skullz.”

The Orcs all mumbled in begrudging agreement.

“Roight, so, my scout boyz been workin’ real ‘ard, an dey fink deyz figured out where dey comin’! So, youz is gonna go dere an’ wait for ‘em.”

Jack took out a roughly straight stick and pointed to a spot on the map.

“Scout boyz found a couple ‘o places dey most likely gonna come from. Dis roight ‘ere, Blackpool pass, is where we fink Yorksburg is gonna send a good number o’ dere boyz. So, I’z sendin’ Jenkins, Oscar, an’ da Baron. Youz is gonna beat back da gits an wait til wez go on offensive. Roight?”

The two Orcs, Oscar and Jenkins, both yelled ‘Roight!’ The Baron simply nodded his head.

“Roight. You gitz get movin’ den. Baron, I’ll send a scout boy to be your guide while youz is ‘ere. ‘Ell be waitin’ outside o’ dis place. Dismissed!”

The Baron raised his voice before Jack continued.

“Uh, can we not stay and get a better idea of the grand strategy?”

“No need. Wez just defending Londonsburg ‘til Yorksburg exhausts dere resources, den wez goin’ on attack. Pretty simple plan. Decreases chance o’ miscommunication. Now get goin’, if wez know what deir doin’, dey knowz what deir doin’. An’ dey can do it fasta!”

I don’t really like that, shouldn’t everyone understand what everyone else’s role is in a plan? Is this what Georg meant about Orcs thinking differently? Or are they just idiots? Hm…perhaps that thought process is unproductive.

“Alright, I suppose that’s fair enough. I’ll be going, then.”

The Baron, along with whom he assumed were Jenkins and Oscar, turned and left the courtyard. When the Baron stepped out of the building, a mounted orc rode over to him. He wore the same things the Orcs who escorted him to Londonsburg wore.

“I am Winston. Jack told me I’m ridin’ wif you an’ your boyz while you’re ‘ere.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Winston. If I could impose on you, would you give me a ride back to our Inn?”

Winston reached down to help the Baron onto his horse.

“No problem, let’s get movin’!”

Orcland in general was cold and unforgiving. The mountains were far worse. If they had to spend any extended period going through the rougher parts of one of Orcland’s myriad of mountain ranges, there would be casualties. Luckily, Blackpool pass was shorter than most other mountain passes, and somewhat maintained. It was still unbelievably cold that high up in the mountains, but they crossed it fast enough that no one died of frostbite, though some of the men still got frostbite and were treated when they reached Blackpool pass.

The area where they chose to await the Yorksburg vanguard was a clearing just in front of the pass. It was wide enough to fit all three defending armies to deploy next to each other, but only just. The path was surrounded by thick forest, thin enough for irregulars to harass formations from within, but far too thick for any organized force to move through. The path leading up to the pass was smoothed out terrain with a slight incline, not extremely steep but steep enough to create an advantage for whoever was at the top. The ground itself wouldn’t impede anyone, the path here was obviously maintained, anything that would contribute to slowing people down, large rocks, fallen trees, holes, were either removed or filled in.

As they entered the clearing, the men all either recoiled or covered their noses. Udo pinched his nose and spit on the ground.

“Gods above, what in the abyss is that smell.”

Winston, seemingly unaffected by the stench, happily answered his question.

“It’s da tar pits nearby! Dey’re filled all dis stuff dat makes dis place stink roight proper! You fink da name Blackpool’s for show?”

“Well I didn’t really think about it! Most people don’t question why things are named the way they are.”

The Baron rode up next to Udo and smacked the back of his head.

“You’re not most people, I say most people do wonder that sort of thing.”

Udo turned and punched the Baron’s thigh.

“You’re not most people either! How can you say what most people do?”

“Damn, that’s a good point. Stop making good points or I’ll dock your pay.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

As the two were squabbling amongst each other, Ludwin came over and cleared his throat to get the Baron’s attention.

“Sir, Oscar and Jenkins are asking for you. They want to ask what your plan is. They’re both in the big red tent, right over there.”

The Baron nodded and turned his horse towards the red tent about ten yards away.

“I heard you called for me?”

The two Orcs cut the conversation they were having short. They were both wearing plate armor with no helmet. Neither of their armors were decorated. The armor of the Orc on the left was made of a light blue hued steel, with a light orange fox pelt draped around his shoulders, and a coarse gray pelt peeking out of the joints and collar of his armor. The Orc on the right was wearing a very light gray hued armor, with light brown furs peeking out of his armor. The Orc on the left answered the Baron.

“Yeah. Me ‘n Oscar’re wonderin’ what youz is gonna do. Scout boyz tells us Yorksburg gitz is gonna be ‘ere ‘round two days. Maybe free. Probably two. Maybe one. But probably two.”

The Baron thought for a moment before responding.

“Well, if we have time, I suppose we will be fortifying our position.”

Oscar and Jenkins looked at each other briefly in confusion.

“Do you really ‘ave time to build a fort?”

“A fort?”

Oscar looked incredibly confused

“Yeah? Youz said youz is gonna fortify your position.”

“Well I don’t exactly have to build an entire fort.”

Oscar and Jenkins again looked at each other in confusion.

“You don’t?”

“Yeah, what else would you do?”

“Well, you could build a spike wall, create traps along the path, build platforms for archers or riflemen, create obstructions which funnel your enemy into killzones, you know, that sort of thing.”

Oscar and Jenkins, again, loo-

“Do you…not do that sort of thing here?”

“No? Why do all dat when you could just go to a fort or castle?”

“But, what do you do if you can’t reach a fort or castle?”

Oscar and Jenkins looked at the Baron like he was a complete idiot.

“Den you fight on da field! Or run, if it looks too bad.”

“Right…well, my men will be fortifying our position, and we'll most likely end up fortifying yours as well, mostly as a consequence of what we end up doing. If any of you want to help, then you're free to.”

Oscar and Jenkins, agai-

“Roight. Youz get on your fortifying or whatever. We’ll watch an’ fink ‘bout it.”

The Baron shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the tent, heading over to where his men were waiting around for their orders. As the Baron approached, Udo and Fergus rounded up the men, and Ludwin grabbed a stool for the Baron to stand on, which the Baron took after thanking Ludwin.

“Alright men! Listen up! The Yorksburg vanguard will take at the earliest a day to reach us! That means we have at least a day to fortify our position! Our plan is as follows: We will fell trees in the area and use that lumber to create spikes, which we will lash together to create spike walls which we will fight behind! We will leave gaps in those walls in order to funnel the Orcs into killzones! Men will be stationed all along the final wall! Most of you will be in front of the openings, pike and sword ready to meet the Orc onslaught! The rest of you will be there to make sure no Orcs climb over the wall. After the wall is finished, we will build platforms, which our riflemen will use to fire from a vantage point! Our platforms should be wide enough to fit six men abreast! If we finish this before the Yorksburg vanguard reaches us, I wish to create traps along the path. Spike pits, spear traps, that sort of thing! Do any of you have questions?”

The Baron waited a moment for anyone to speak up, and after no one did, he continued.

“Alright! Every man head to the supply wagons and grab axes! We will be working in shifts! Two shifts! First and Last! Each shift will only be a couple of hours at a time, allowing plenty of rest! We will alternate who is working every four hours, you will work multiple shifts throughout the day! Our Orc allies are taking care of scouting, so we will simply have to trust in them to make sure we do not get caught unaware! And do not worry! I will be joining in on the construction effort! I would never order you men to do something I would not! Ludwin and Helmut will be our foremen, they will organize us! Now, let’s get to work men!”

The men all cheered as the Baron cheered and followed him to the supply wagons. Ludwin and Helmut, despite not being informed beforehand, very quickly threw themselves into their roles as Foremen. They divided the men up into two groups and supervised the felling of trees and the crafting of the spike wall. The Baron took the first shift, grabbing an ax and working alongside his men. Gaius, along with Fergus, also took the first shift. Udo had the second shift, and Jean was doing constant maintenance on the rifles and muskets at the supply wagons.

The Orcs watched the men’s work with interest. Almost none of them joined in, which irked the Baron, but they took obvious interest. The work was hard, but the trees were not overly thick, only about one foot thick on the small end and five feet thick on the larger end, and the men tended to choose the one-three feet thick trees for the spike wall. Each tree, being between 60-200ft tall, can be made into multiple spikes. Over the course of the day, the Baron’s men, along with a few Orcs who wandered over and joined on their own initiative, finished the, in total, roughly 90 yards of spike wall and began on building the platforms.

The next day, during the Baron’s shift, Oscar and Jenkins approached him. The Baron was learning from a former carpenter how to properly tie the wood together, and slowly coming to the conclusion that he was a Neaderthal completely incapable of finesse.

“Oi! Baron. Me n’ Jenkins been wonderin’...’ow can we ‘elp? Youz built your wall in front of our men too, ‘s only right wez give you a bit o’ ‘elp.” The Orcs were mostly speaking in Reikers when dealing with the Baron. They had no knowledge that he knew their language, called English, for obvious reasons, and so it made sense that they spoke to him in Reikers. What didn't make sense to the Baron, however, was the fact that all of the Orcs he had come into contact with spoke Reikers, even footsoldiers and scouts. It would make sense for Jack to be fluent, but for so many of them to be fluent in Reikers? Very strange to me.

“Well…the work that benefits your men is mostly done, unless you also want platforms for guns, or archers.”

“I was finkin’ we’d just ‘elp you finish up ‘s all. As wez’z sure you know by now, some o’ da boyz fink it ain’t right to just watch you work. We’ll ‘elp you. ‘Specially since youz is personally doin’ da work, real respect for dat by de way.”

The Baron stopped his work to look Oscar and Jenkins in the eyes.

“Well, thank you. Alright then, if you want to join in, consult our foremen, Ludwin and Helmut. Ludwin is the tall, clean shaven, blonde man wearing the cuirass with the sun embossed on it. Helmut is the other tall man, short silvery hair, piercing blue eyes, can’t miss ‘em. Well, maybe you might, despite the ethereal attractiveness. He tends to do that. Wait, are you Orcs even attracted to humans?”

Oscar and Jenkins looked at each other in c-

“Well, don’t know ‘bout Oscar, but I fink you lot is fine ‘nough. Well, your women’re a bit small an’ puny. Youz would be plenty attractive to most Orcs.”

“Hm? Our women are too small? What do Orc women look like?”

Jenkins and Oscar smiled to each other, like they were waiting for the Baron to ask.

“Well, Jenkins is a woman.”

The Baron was quite taken aback. The carpenter working with him completely stopped his work to look at the Orcs.

“Uh. rea-”

The carpenter spoke up.

“What do you mean ‘es a woman? ‘E looks like ‘e could be your brother!”

“Wez get dat a lot! Wez love it when you ‘umies learn it! So befuddled!”

The carpenter looked to the Baron, horribly confused.

“Baron, ‘ows that possible?”

The Baron took a second to gather his thoughts.

“Well, they are a different species to us. Do you know the term ‘sexual dimorphism?’”

Both the carpenter and the Orcs looked confused.

“Alright I'll take that as a no. Well, it basically means that the Male and Female sex of a species develop differently from each other. My guess if that Orcs just have a very low level of sexual dimorphism. Hmm, now that I think about it, Orcs and Humans can interbreed and create half-Orcs, or I guess half-Humans if you look at it that way, so maybe they’re just offshoots of the same species and not different ones entirely, like Homo Sapien and Homo Neanderthalensis…”

The people in earshot were mostly just confused as to what he was saying. The level of education for average people in this world was extremely low, and the Baron was pondering aloud about what could very well be his next dissertation.

“Roight, Baron, gonna stop you dere. Wez is gonna go find do'es gitz you told us ‘bout. What’s deir names? Ludwig an’ Helmet?”

“Ludwin and Helmut.”

“‘Roight, dat’s what I said!”

“Right. Well yeah, go find them. They’ll find jobs for you and your men.”

Both of the Orcs responded with ‘Roight’ and a salute before walking off. The Baron turned and continued his work on the platform, dismaying as he realized the carpenter finished what they were working while he was turned around, and was halfway through lashing together another set of logs, something the Baron still hadn't gotten the hang of. Such a simple thing! I have tied plenty of knots throughout my life! Why can't I get this right?!

At the end of the second day, with the assistance of the Orcs, the men finished the gun platforms. They created around four of them, ten feet wide, six feet long, four feet tall. Each was a rough frame packed into a dirt cube to create a sturdy platform. It was built for rows six men across, and however many rows was needed behind them. The dirt was sloped near the back, and the platform itself significantly wider than a row of six men, to allow the men to move to the front and back of the platform with ease. Having been informed by their scouts that the enemy would not reach them until at least tomorrow afternoon, the Baron decided to let the men celebrate a job well done. Though he did make sure to stress to not celebrate too hard, they most likely had fighting to do the next day.

Looking at the spike walls filled the men with pride. They were built in roughly three slightly slanted rows. the first row with openings large enough to fit four Orcs at a time on the left side, the second row with openings on the right side, and the final wall with three openings only large enough for two Orcs at a time around where the Baron and his Orc allies would station their men. While the Orcs could tear down the walls, they were only held together with thick rope and held in place by being driven into the ground, doing so would take time. And in that time, the Baron’s riflemen would pepper them with deadly, accurate fire, and in the case of the final barricade, the Orcs would be harassed by Pike and Swordsmen.

A problem with their set up, however, was that it largely funneled the Orcs to middle and right army, which meant that they would have to deal with the majority of the fighting. The left army couldn’t simply leave their position and assist the other two, because then the enemy could enter through that side and flank the middle and right army. And, they couldn’t just close the opening on that side and join the left army with the right and middle army, because the enemy could simply destroy the wall on that side and, again, flank them. The only way this formation could work, is if the left army keeps the enemy from flanking the middle and right army. This, the Baron was nervous about. He had heard that Orcs are very disciplined, but he had only heard that from other Orcs, and they were a bit biased. There was always the possibility that the war loving Orcs could get bored of their lack of fighting and break formation, leaving their left flank open. But, in the end, he would just have to trust that they wouldn’t do that. He had explained his plan to Oscar and Jenkins, but he was still worried. Orcs had a reputation for being rowdy, fight loving meatheads. The Baron could do nothing but pray that assessment was inaccurate.

The next morning, while the men were feeling the effects of their celebration, the scout boyz reported back.

“Lookz like dey’s gonna be ‘ere, say, late afternoon. Probably ‘fore sunset, at least.”

“Well, looks like we have all morning to give our defenses their finishing touches! Good work, sir!”

The scout boy grunted in acknowledgment and rode off again into the distance. The Baron rounded up everyone with trapmaking or woodworking skills, numbering around 50 men, and gave them his orders.

“Well men, looks like we have time to dig some pits! Don’t worry about setting spikes in them, we simply don’t have the time for that, unless any of you already have some smaller spikes set aside?”

One of the men, a huntsmen from the woodlands of Bickenstadt, raised his hand.

“I can probably fill the pits with some stakes. They don’t really take all that long to make, long as we have wood. And we’ve got plenty of that.”

“Great! Then you can work on sharpening stakes while we dig the holes. He could probably use an assistant or two, so two of you work with him making and placing the stakes. Any other comments?”

None of them raised their hands.

“Great! These pits will be mostly for slowing down the Orcs, so don’t worry about disguising them or anything. If any Orcs fall into it and get impaled, well, that’s their fault. I’ll do much of the heavy lifting using Earth and Gravity magic, so we should probably start some bonfires to fuel my magic. Other than that, just make sure not to half ass anything. Let’s get to it!”

Over the course of the morning, and a small amount of the afternoon, the Baron and his men dug four holes and filled them with stakes. The pits were dug just in front of the openings in the first and second walls. Just as they were finishing up their fourth hole, one of the Scout Boyz, spotting the Baron in a hole, rode up next to them.

“Dere gonna be ‘ere in a coupla’ hours, two, maybe free, you should see da snow n’ dust deir kickin’ up in da distance.”

The Baron clambered out of his five feet deep hole and looked towards where the Yorksburg vanguard were coming. He could see a small cloud of white off in the distance. They were still far off, but they would reach them long before sunset. The Baron addressed his men somberly

“Alright men, let’s get going. We need to grab our arms and armor and form up. We’ve got a hard fight ahead of us.”

The men quickly clambered out of their holes and ran back to the line, spreading the news as they passed through the men on their way to the gear carts, being followed quickly by everyone else. The Baron himself, headed to his tent. He put on his armor. His Greaves, Vambrace, Chausses, Breastplate, and Helmet. Finally, he strapped on his various holsters, filling them with pistols as he went, as well as his saber.

He stepped out of his tent and was greeted with a flurry of activity. Men running around, putting on armor, grabbing weapons, snuffing bonfires, and running to the frontline. The Baron spotted Fergus and Udo, fully decked out in their arms and armor, running with a group of swordsmen. The Baron headed to their makeshift stables and found Ludwin whispering encouragement to his horse, or maybe to himself. As the Baron ran to and mounted his horse, the two men shared a nod, a silent gesture wishing each other good luck. He rode off on his horse to the frontline, passing riflemen running bullets and powder to the frontline.

Formed up in front of their openings was around 200 of the Baron’s pikemen. The rest were spread out along the wall. Behind the 200 or so pikemen were the Baron’s 130 swordsmen, including Gaius, Udo, and Fergus, ready to protect the pikemen. On the platforms were the Riflemen not running to grab bullets and powder. Six men sat at the front, doing last minute inspections on their rifles, checking the rifling, making sure the flash pan was in good shape, checking the flint, generally making sure their rifles would fire straight and not explode in their hands. The Baron checked what his Orc allies were doing, and they were doing about what he expected. Just forming up roughly around where they were holding, and waiting for their enemy to come. They had archers, around the same number of archers as the Baron had riflemen, and they were just sitting around behind the Orc swordsmen. Additionally, the Baron saw some lightly armored Orcs archers, as well as some similarly armored Gobs with guns and crossbows, slowly trickling into the dense forest at each side of the highway. Skirmishers, thought the Baron, Thank god they have it covered. I was worrying about what to do should enemy skirmishers get behind us.

As the rest of his men finished up what they were doing, the Klarwasser Mercenary Company could only stand there and wait for the enemy to come to them.

“Alright men! Here, we are, in a foreign land, fighting extremely strong enemies foreign to us, at the behest of foreigners. All in all, just a job like any other! Do not let these Orcs scare you! The only enemy you need fear is yourself! Just remember! Keep your formation! Cover your fellow man! And trust! Trust in your training, your comrades, and your gods! Today, we shall do as we always have! We shall fight! For honor! For Bickenstadt! For Klarwasser!”

The men roared and stomped their feet, chanting ‘For honor! For Bickenstadt! For Karwasser!’

As the cheers died down, the Baron, again, raised his voice.

“Perhaps I should have saved the speech for just before the Orcs reached us! Now, we get to settle in and wait an hour or two!”

Some of the men laughed, the rest just sat where they stood.

Just an hour later, the Orcs could be seen from the defender's position. The sound of their pounding feet was deafening, even from the distance still between the two armies. The ground shook as the entire Yorksburg vanguard ran at once. As the Orcs drew ever closer, the Baron drew his saber and steeled himself. His men all grabbed their weapons and formed up. The riflemen all checked to make sure their rifles were loaded. Helmut stood with the riflemen, rifle in hand. He had apparently chosen to operate as a gunner instead of a frontline fighter. Udo, Fergus, and Gaius were formed up with the men, though Gaius was tucked in the back of the formation. His fighting prowess, and ability to work well with the men, was still unproven. Jean was back in the camp. As a noncombatant, his job was to keep the gunmen stocked up, and to replace any weapons destroyed during the fighting, if the soldier who's weapon was destroyed is still in fighting shape. Ludwin was mounted, just like the Baron, and placed on the opposite side of the formation as the Baron, filling the same role of him, just for the right side of their formation. As the Orcs drew ever closer, the Baron yelled at the top of his lung, making sure everyone could hear him.

“Hold the line men! Remember, whether they be Orc or Human, no one walks away with a hole in their chest!”