Gathering Storm

As soon as they seperated to go about their day, a hobbit messanger rode in through the gate in a hurry.

"My lord! More the border forts are reporting that orcs are gathering! They seem more organised than usual." He reports quickly.

"How many?" Marcus asks, a little concerned. So far only single tribes have tried migrating south.

"Thousands, my lord. Mostly warriors from what we've seen."

"So it's not another migrating tribe..." Marcus thinks aloud. "This is bad. Orcs are dumb but formidable enemies. If they're organised, it spells trouble... Was there anyone else seen among them? A non-orc?"

"No, my lord. But our scouts couldn't get close enough to the centre of their camp, they stand out too much."

Marcus' mind raced with plans. If someone was controlling the orcs, that would be a problem but easily dealt with. If they were organising themselves... that was a truely worrying thought. Either way, this thorn in the side of the north needed to be plucked before it festers into something worse.

"Good work, lad. Go ask our cook to make you whatever you want to eat and get your pony watered. I'll have a message for you to carry to the other northern lords soon." He told the hobbit, patting his shoulder.

"Thank you, lord. I'll be quick." He replied with a bow before leaving.

Marcus asked Amelia to follow him to his office so they could talk while he wrote his letters.

"What's wrong Long Legs?" She asks. "I was just about to show Livia how to use a crossbow. The poor girl is probably hiding in a corner from the men, waiting."

"Right, sorry Short Stuff, I want to get these letters written." He says, only partially listening as he forms the letters to his neighbors. "The orcs are forming an army. This isn't a tribe or two anymore. They're planning something and the only path they have, besides the dwarven holds, is south, to us."

"This is bad..." Amelia mutters, her playful attitude fading immediately and being replaced with serious professionalism. "So you're intending on gathering an army of our own?" She asks as she reads one of his completed letters.

"Exactly. We only have garrisons up here. All the legions have been disbanded by our dear emperor or are fighting the centaurs in the east. Against an army of orcs we'd all fall alone. Together, we might just cobble together a decent ****."

"Do you think this is the threat to the Empire we were warned about?" She asks.

"To the Empire? Probably not. To us and the rest of the north? Definitely."

"I'll gather the men. Lets leave a skeleton **** here. It sounds like all will be decided by our army. If they win, the castle isn't under threat. If they lose... then it was doomed to begin and no garrison would help here."

"I agree." Marcus nods. "If only the 16th was still around. We'd make short work of this." He reminisces, thinking of the legion he and Amelia had taken control of on their first command. Together they turned those green recruits into a **** worthy of the Empire.

"If this all goes tits up, and we survive, we'll have to reform it, damn what the emperor says." She says, determined.

"And how will we pay for it without the emperor's blessing?" He asks.

"The old fashioned way, with conquest and spoils of war. The men loved you, they'd fight for you again on only the promise of pay."

"If things get ****... we'll consider it. I don't want to be considered a potential usurper unless we have to."

"Then lets put these orc fucks down the first time around then." She says. "What about your family?"

"I'll send them back to my brother and sis-"

"NO YOU WON'T!" Julia shouts, bursting into the room. "We told you, we're with you. That means through everything!"

"Julia it's too dangerous. I'm not even sure _we'll _survive."

"Then we'll die together. I'm not sitting around worrying again." She pleads, tears welling up in her eyes. "Mom and Livvy can treat the wounded and you said it yourself, I can buff the troops even if I'm not ready for the front."

Amelia seems conflicted but eventually sighs. "She has a point. We can't afford to turn away any help. Would you reject them if they weren't your family."

"No..." He admits. She makes a good point but this wasn't some recruit, this was his family. "You can come but you'll stay in camp. The first sign that something is wrong, you all leave immediately. Deal?"

"Deal!" Julia agrees, much too excited to go with a war party.

Marcus can only sigh, worrying that he'd just sentenced his family to **** or worse by orc savages.