Part 4: Intermission: What the hell are those humans doing?

Mini-Update: What the hell are those humans doing?

Probably a pretty good question, they sent a number of poorly armed men deep into the SWAMP OF SORROWS to attack a bunch of murderous barbarians. You have to wonder at what sort of geniuses we're dealing with here. So let's shift focus to Duke Wells, an up and coming knight, who has vowed to end the orcish menace.



: Well, let's see what King Llane needs me to do in order to stop these beasts.

Human Briefing

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: Alright! Let's get started! Footmen, secure the area. Peasants, establish a route to the nearest mine; we'll need all the metal we can get our hands on.



: 'Oi! What's 'e on about?

: Y'know dem nobles, love da sound o' dere own voices, dey do.

: You two! Hurry up! The orcs could be attacking at any moment!

: Not fer nothin', m'lord, but why?

: Why what? Choose your words carefully, serf.

: Well, its just the wonder o' the whole thing, ya know? Grand Hamlet gots nothin' to take. No defensive positions useful for the invadin' forces, most o' the golds been mined out, and this place is far from the King's, bless'd be 'is name, protection. Its useless, it is!

: ...

: M'lord?

: Just get back to work!

Later...



: After months of planning and preparation, Grand Hamlet is perfectly secure. I dare an orc to dirty our roads with his mere presence before he is cut to ribbons and interred behind our fields. Now then, the bridges must be secured.



: Excellent, the North Bridge is well-guarded. Two of my best men will cut low any foul beast that dare trespass upon the King's land. Southern bridge?



: Haha! Perfect, perfect! Let's see a fly get past this, much less a stinking rodent like an orc. One last thing to check on...



: Well, well, our two upstart peasants have been busy establishing our economy. Seems we've learned our place, eh, fellows?

: A word, sire?

: Not this again. Make it quick, lest your wagging tongue be cut from your head.

: You a swordman, roight? Expectin' to take part in the battle, yeah?

: But of course, a true general leads from the front!

: Well, if'n you'll 'scuse me humble country logic here, sire, wouldn't that hat get in the way of combat? Much less words to be spent on your cloak, m'lord.

: What is this treason? A true commander can't lead without his cloak! And I'll have you know that my soldiers can easily see me through the battle with my hat on. It inspires them, you see!

: Aye, yer lordship, sorry ta sully yer ears with me simple words.

Back in the Swamp of Sorrows



: You called for me, Chieftain?

: Let me see the reports from the scouts I sent out.



: It's a tiny, useless town. It's resources are scarce, and it provides us no true foothold against the human kingdom. It's out of our way and will doubtlessly only cause more pain as we throw ourselves against their superior defensive position.







: Ready the men.