Chapter 9

Castle Blenham was going to fall. It was just a matter of time. The Londonsburg army, led by General Elbertson, was around 6,000 strong, while the garrison was only around 800. Of course, while the Baron was able to hold off a 6,000 strong army with just 800 men, this garrison had no explosives, no ballistae, and most importantly, no guns.

Even though the duelist General Elbertson sent was beaten, the garrison did not cheer. They knew they were going to die. As the Londonsburg Orcs surrounded the castle, a contingent of humans pushed a cart towards the gate. The cart was covered with a tarp, but the defenders knew it was nothing good. They fired arrows at the men pushing the cart, who were holding a shield above their heads with one hand and pushing with the other. Most arrows were deflected by the shields, but a few found gaps in defense and stuck into chests, necks, legs, arms, everything.

Even as men fell the cart never slowed down. After being just a few yards from the door, the men let the cart roll on its own, sprinting away as quickly as possible, silently praying that the archers either missed or hit their armor. After a few moments, the cart made contact with the door. A deafening BOOM resounded through the valley around the castle. A huge plume of smoke erupted from the door. The sounds of the stonework of the castle coming apart could be heard through the smoke, as could the screams of Orcs caught in the blast or buried in rubble.

General Elbertson jumped up from his wooden folding chair and waved his fist in the air, yelling incoherently. The army descended on the castle. The defenders barely lasted an hour, being either killed or surrendering as soon as the army got inside the castle. It was highly unusual for Orcs to surrender or route, but in a situation like this, even the fanatical devotion all Orcs share for their gods was not enough to overcome the fear caused by such a large explosion followed by an all out assault. Castle Blenham was in the hands of Londonsburg, though mostly useless until they could repair the gatehouse.

“What are we going to do with 500 prisoners?”

The Baron was in the camp, surrounded by Orc lieutenants, commanders, and General Elbertson.

“Wez is gonna let ‘em go! Wez ain’t got da resources to ‘old ‘em, an’ we can’t just kill ‘em all. Wez is gonna let ‘em ‘ead back to Yorksburg.”

“But, won’t that just allow them to rejoin the Yorksburg defenders?”

“Yeah? Makes da fightin’ more fun if dere’s more ‘o ‘em!”

“I still don’t think this is wise.”

“Wisdom don’t factor in da equation! Dis is Orc business, I don’t fink you’d get it.”

The Baron sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Right, well, I suppose that’s true. Whatever, it simply gives my men more chances to prove themselves.”

“Dats da roight way to fink o’ it! Now, Baron, boyz, I’z is splittin’ da army.”

There was a general murmur throughout the Orcs gathered there.

“Whyz dat?”

“Well, dere’s dis little wooden fort nearby Yorksburg, small ‘nough to not even be named, got ‘round 500 gitz inside. I’m gonna ‘ave Jenkins lead da men to Yorksburg n’ wait for da rest o’ Jack’s boyz to get dere, me included. I is gonna lead us to da fort ‘n raze it to da ground! Any objections?”

The Orcs all shook their heads. The Baron reluctantly shook his as well.

“Roight den! Baron, ‘arry, Dave, Bof Williams, an’ Greg is comin’ wif me. Rest o’ da boyz is goin’ to Yorksburg!”

General Elbertson’s half of the army numbered 2,500 men. One of his Scout boyz ran up to General Elbertson about three miles from the fort.

“General! Dere’s an’ army dere! Looks like 2,000!”

“What? 2,000 gitz?”

“Yeah! Saw it wif me own eyes!”

“Well, ‘ows da terrain dere?”

“Flat! Very slight ‘ills, not big ‘nough to be considered! An’ last I saw, dey was on our side! Wez gotta get trough dem to reach da fort!”

“Sounds great! Someone get me chair n’ warboard! I gonna do some real general shit! Oh, dis gonna be good!”

The Yorksburg army was formed up just in front of the fort. They were in a very simple formation, their melee infantry stretched out in a line five men deep, their archers in a block on either side and the middle, and their Yorksburg cavalry and skirmishers on the wings.

The Londonsburg army was formed facing them. Their melee infantry was in two large rectangles five men deep on either side of the Baron’s formation, which consisted of a pike square, swordsmen behind the pikes, and a block of musketmen three men deep on either side. Behind the Orc rectangles were blocks of archers, and on the wings were Londonsburg cavalry and skirmishers.

After an uneventful pre battle duel, which Londonsburg won, the two sides began to move forward. As soon as they entered effective range, a couple hundred yards, the muskets began to fire, shredding through the approaching Orcs. The Baron’s formation stopped and waited for the enemy Orcs to reach him, allowing his musketmen to fire repeatedly at their attackers.

General Elbertson moved his pieces forward, having both sides' infantry pieces touch each other, and leaving the cavalry pieces where they were. He didn’t have any information on what they were doing yet. A runner came over to him.

“General! Baron’s stopped!”

“What? Get ‘im movin’!”

“Well, ‘es shootin’ the Yorksburg gitz roight proppa’! Maybe it’s some Empire fing?”

“Well, I don’t care! Get ‘im movin’! If ‘e wants to do somefin’ fancy ‘es gotta tell me!”

“Roight!”

The runner ran off to relay his orders. Just as he left another can running in.

“General! Cavalry on da left flank beat off do’es Yorksburg gitz! Last I saw dey’re wheelin’ ‘round and chagrin’ Yorksburg’s backs! But our roight’s bein’ beaten off!”

“Send da left cavalry to da roight flank. Do not let dem charge our boyz!”

“Roight!”

“He wants me to move forward? But they’re coming to me!”

“Do ‘as da general says!”

“Right. Formation march! Muskets take cover!”

The musketmen shot off one more volley and ran within the pike formation. After that they began to walk forward, pikes levied at the Orcs. The Orcs crashed into the wall, not a single one was able to charge through the pikes. As the pikemen stepped forward and thrust in time with the men around them, the swordsmen rushed through and tore into the enemy formation. Alongside that, sporadic shots were fired from within the pikewall. They quickly tore through their enemy, after only a few minutes the Orcs began retreating. The Baron understood why General Elbertson was upset with him staying still, if he was defeated the enemy could about face and charge the backs of his men. But, they didn’t win, the pike and shot method of warfare was too much for them to handle. Just as the Baron was going to order his swordsmen forward, another messenger ran over to him.

“General says drive off da cavalry on da roight! After dat ‘e says go crazy!”

“Right. Men! Formation right! Muskets to the side! Swordsmen forward! Assist our Orc allies!”

The swordsmen ran through the gap created in the middle, splitting off to charge at the backs of their enemies and to disrupt the archers.The rest formation turned right and the musketmen formed in their blocks on either side. Not a single man fell out of formation.

“Formation march!”

They moved forward until they reached the clash between cavalry. There was just one problem: The Baron couldn’t tell who was who.

“Hold fire men! Wait until we are charged! Fire a volley and then retreat into the pikemen!”

They observed the fight until one side was driven off. The Baron waited to see which side won. Around 90 horsemen were left on the right flank, gathering and getting into a diamond formation. Suddenly, the horsemen turned and began to charge at the Baron. Yorksburg won the engagement!

“Fire!”

The musketmen fired, dropping many Orcs in a single volley. The first row retreated into the formation and the second fired.

“Third row! No time! Enter!”

The rest of the musketmen ran into the protection of the pikemen. The horses charged the pikewall head on, losing plenty more as they impacted the spearheads, the force of the charging horse along the thrust of the pikemen allowing the pikes to pierce their armor with ease.

“Hold the line! I am with you men!”

The Baron urged his horse forward and sliced an Orc’s neck up as he passed, turning and parrying another strike, following it up with a through the armpit.

“General! Roight flank’s secure! Baron’s men are ‘eadin’ round to fire into da enemies back! Also ‘is swordsmen broke off, dey’re attackin’ da enemy’s flanks an’ deir archers!”

Another runner ran over.

“General! Bof cavalry’s done! None left on da field! But, seems Baron’s swordsmen an’ da roight side’s men’re gettin’ deir archers!”

“Great! Dis battle should be finished wifin da hour! I’m ‘eadin’ out! Gonna out an’ find deir general! Run ‘em down wif my boyz!”

“So roight boss! What a good idea!”

“Fuck! Dey’re beatin’ us roight proper! Dere’s gotta be a way to salvage it!”

A runner came into the tent, he was bleeding and his arm hung limply at his side.

“General! Dere’s cavalry ‘ere! Run!”

The runner was booted from his spot as a horse rammed into him. A figured jumped off the horse and ran into the general’s tent.

“I’z got youz roight good! Fight me roight proppa!”

The Yorksburg general growled and grabbed his longsword.

“Youz da Londonsburg general?”

“Yeah, I’z is Jeremy Elbertson. You?”

“Steven Graham. We skrappin’ den?”

“Roight!”

Jeremy swung down at Steven, who lifted his sword and parried the strike in a smooth motion, striking down at Jeremy, who parried in the same fashion. Jeremy brought him pommel down on Steven’s nose and kicked his knee, bending his leg backwards. Steven screamed but was swiftly silenced as Jeremy lopped off his head. Jeremy looked at his bloody sword and smiled.

“Out fuckin’ classed til da very end! Oh yeah, dat’s da good stuff!”

A rider came into the tent.

“General! Wez finished ‘em all off! Now what?”

“Now, wez go to da field ‘n see what needs killin’, if anyfing.”

The battle was over. Any Orcs who retreated were allowed to retreat. The army as a whole barely had any losses, and the Baron only lost 23 men, anyone else who was injured was able to be healed by geidpfeld.

The Fort was burned down. It was small and insignificant, but Jeremy wanted it gone. Since the whole thing was made of wood, it went up easily. The Orcs were loving it, but the Baron and his men were much less interested. Burning things was fun, but they weren’t the ones burning the fort, so they didn’t care. All they wanted now was to siege Yorksburg, mostly because it meant that their assignment was over and they could go home. The men were tired of Orcland. It was far too cold for their liking. Almost every day someone got frostbite and had to be healed by Geidpfeld. But, luckily for them, after the fort was burned, it was on to Yorksburg city.

After an uneventful march, the Klarwasser Mercenary Company finally reached Yorksburg. The city was large, though not nearly as large as Grossenburg or Bickenstadt, it could easily rival many an Imperial city. The walls were large, imposing, lightly colored brick. 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 Londonsburg. Farther out, in the flatlands proper, 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 each of the ten or so forts littered around the nearly hundred or so yards cleared around each side of the roughly square city.

“What the fuck?”

The Baron said out loud to nearby Ludwin.

“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.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t think they would be the exact same! Down to the placement of the wooden forts even! Unbelievable. You know what? I’ll leave the forts Jeremy’s Jeremy’s men. No need to risk our own.”

“So, what exactly do we do now?”

“For now, we wait until Jack and the rest of his army reach us. It shouldn’t be too long, or so I’m told.”

“Great. Oh, Baron. Should we see who amongst our pikemen are willing to switch to swords? Pikes are unwieldy in the cities.”

“Yes, that is an excellent idea. You and Udo can see to that. I have letters to write.”

“Yes sir!”

Ludwin saluted and walked off.

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. He 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! Ain’t dat excitin’?!”

Everyone erupted in incoherent yelling and screaming. Orcs punched and slapped each other, The Baron suplexed the nearest Orc, who got up and suplexed the Baron back.

“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.”

‘Dat sounds cool as ‘ell. Yeah, wez is doin’ dat! If one cart’s big enough to blow open a normal castle, den we’ll probably need two for Yorksburg. Sound ‘bout roight?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Great! You ova’ dere! Runner boy! Go tell da gitz makin’ da ram to stop!”

The runner saluted and ran off.

“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 I fink dey’re called ‘gifted ones’?”

“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! 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!”

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

All of the forts nearby were destroyed, and so the real siege of Yorksburg city began. Two carts were being pushed to each gate, getting rained on by Yorksburg archers. The musketmen shot from just out of archer range, making sure only a few archers were able to loose their arrows at a time. 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 the door. All around the Yorks favored city, explosions rocked the ground. Bits of stone flew everywhere, killing Orcs in and around the gate houses. The Londonsburg army roared and charged the gates, 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!”

The groups dashed towards their destination, running through a huge road which led to the palace. A large group of Orc emerged from some of the ally ways and got between them and the palace, and so the Baron and his allies charged the Yorksburg defenders. The Yorksburg Orcs looked like they Barely knew where they were. The Baron was leading a squad of 50 men, mostly his own human veterans, and was aided by Udo leading his own squad of 50 men, and General Elbertson and his 50 ladz.

The two sides clashed, becoming a whirlwind of blows. The Orc defenders were mostly unorganized, fighting in a group mostly due to the fact that all of the enemy was in one place. The Londonsburg attackers, however, were used to working together. The Baron’s men blocked strikes aimed at their comrades and attacked back in unison. The Baron slapped a sword away from one of his men’s neck, saving his life by a hair's breadth. The soldier in turn blocked a strike aimed at the Baron’s exposed side 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 raised his sword. 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 shields 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 but a moment. Jeremy thrust 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 was deflected by his plate armor, and his hand quickly chopped 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's from certain death. Udo grabbed the fallen swordsman by the back of his 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.

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 swung upwards and cut a Yorksburg dog 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.

“Push ‘em outta the market! We gotta keep Jake’s back clear!”

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, arm held high in the air. As soon as Helmut dropped his arm the line fired, ripping through the Orc defenders, bullets easily piercing the wooden barricade and killing 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 Orcs and vaulting over their chest high barricade. All around the market the same thing was happening, allied Orcs assaulting the defenders 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: A chaotic battlefield. 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 sword and helmet, splitting the Orc’s head 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 and bringing his dagger down on the back of another nearby Orc.

Helmut sidestepped a strike and lunged forward, piercing an Orc through the stomach. As he came up and 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 thought hard. Judging by his stance and the angle of his arm, he will attempt to 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, slashed at his right armpit. Helmut put his plan into action, catching 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.

Ludwin observed the fighting from a nearby bell tower. His job was, as Jack put it, ‘to cause a ruckus.’

“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, 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, and possibly veterans. They fought together, protected their comrades, and, most importantly, showed no signs of breaking. 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. Ludwin batted away the sword of an Orc and brought his sword down on his exposed neck. None of the Orcs he had seen wore neck armor, which was very strange. Almost every wound he had delivered since coming to Orcland was a neck wound. An Orc thrusted at Ludwin but was batted aside by a friendly Orc fighter. Ludwin silently hoped he hadn’t accidentally killed any allies and 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 one, so he headed to the back and shouted at the men to turn around and be ready.

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 not nearly as wide. The wall 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 into an Orc, cutting clean through his entire body and crushing a portion of the pew in front of him. An arrow flew at Gaius and he deflected it. Flavi above, I wish I had some firearms!

Gaius 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 tumbled 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 be 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 through a stone pew.

“Come on now! You gitz lose da favor ‘o York or somefin’? Put up a fight!”

The moral 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 fuckin’ 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 boy! Fuck ‘em up!”

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.

“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 fired, killing both. 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 forward.

“Destroy them!”

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, who was swiftly stabbed to death. The Baron turned and found an Orc sword deep in one of his men. With blinding speed and crushing force, 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. The Baron retreated back into his formation and began to sign with his hands, his eyes glowing dark green. He stomped the ground, two large spikes of earth erupting and impaling multiple Orcs at once. The Baron stepped back and performed more hand signs, his eyes this time glowing a bright yellow. He rushed forward and swung his saber, cutting clean through an Orc’s shield, and his 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 out just in time to block another strike, being pushed back, and nearly stumbling, by the force of the attack. 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 longsword and thrust his pommel at his chest, which he blocked easily, going back to swiping at Udo. This Orc was the most skilled Orc Udo had come across, he was using feints and misdirection like a true master of the sword, 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 at his exposed neck. The Orc managed to parry the strike and send out one of his own, even as he struggled to regain his footing. Udo stepped forward to strike, but the Orc sent out a swipe of his own. As Udo raised his guard to block, the sword’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, Udo jumped forward, grabbing the collar of the Orc’s armor up and pulling 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. Udo quickly clambered over the Orc and, with the dagger he kept concealed within his boot, stabbed him through the bottom of his jaw, withdrawing his knife and stabbing all over his exposed neck. 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. 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.

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 must 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.

“Forward! They’re disorganized!”

The Baron’s band, which had grown as allies got lost and linked up with the Baron, descended on the scattered Orcs, tearing them all the shreds. The Baron flew forwards, seemingly dancing around the hallway, each Orc he came near suddenly collapsing with huge gaping wounds on the front of their necks. 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! God’s light shines upon me this day! The Baron swung his saber forward in the direction of the archers.

“Get them! Kill the archers!”

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.

“Roight boyz, we’z got dis!”

The boyz all yelled victory cries as Jack bust down the large wooden door leading to the priest’s quarters. All Jack found was a single, giant Orc, on his knees praying, surrounded by other priests of York.

“Greg! So good to find you ‘ere! I was 'fraid da Baron were gonna find youz at your 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 drawing the two seax swords, the traditional sword of York, at either side of his waist.

“Jack. Good to finally meet youz. 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 the blood off of his pauldron

“Oh? Why’z dat?”

“Cuz youz gonna fuckin’ die.”

Greg shot forward and struck at Jack’s head and legs, which he blocked easily. 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 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 far faster than someone so large wielding such a massive weapon.

Greg thrust up at Jack’s head, cutting a trail of gore through the side of his head, and Jack punched 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 head whenever it opened. Jack swung his hefty axe at Greg’s body, forcing him to dodge back. Jack continued his assault, chopping with his axe and punching with his shield. As Greg was pushed back into a wall, he tucked and rolled under Jack’s horizontal strike, going through his leg and slicing 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, 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 plenty deep. Greg thrust at Jack and he raised his shield. The seax pierced right through it, Greg reeling back and delivering a palm strike to the middle of the shield, denting it in. Jack swung at Greg, who dodged under and stabbed Jack’s thigh. Jack punched Greg back, leaving the seax wedged firmly in his leg.

“You ain’t ‘it da bone, Greg. Youz is gettin’ rusty.”

Greg cooly cracked his knuckles.

“No shit. I’m pushin’ 60.”

Jack whistled at that.

“Damn, dat’s real old. dough I know a guy just like you. Probably tearin’ trough your gitz at da palace.”

Greg growled and rushed 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 stealing the shield right from his arm, tossing it aside. Jack cracked his neck and slapped his axe across his chest.

“Come an’ get me!”

Greg rushed forward and struck at Jack’s chest and face 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 kicking Jack in the chest, sending him reeling back. As soon as Jack regained his footing, Greg dashed forward, kicking the ankle of his mostly uninjured 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, unbelievably painful, movement.

Greg stumbled back, clutching his profusely bleeding throat. 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 in one clean strike.

After a few seconds of processing what just happened, the Londonsburg army cheered.