Commissioned from  FortunataFox

Markem's slaves, his hordebeasts, his bodyguard, and himself help bring in stone for construction, in front of a less impressed vassal and prisoner
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Work in Gholand was never easy, let alone finished. The vermin settlement’s high walls were especially troublesome to build, but each part was to Markem’s particular design and forethought. The walls were wooden palisades with high slopes, with a ditch directly below it. The stands for the vermin guards had railings so that if there was skirmishing with weapons such as slings, a common woodlander weapon which had used to be the bane of many vermin sentries, the vermin would crash into a railing and slump to the side, and could hopefully be recovered later. The walls had small guard houses and huts, along with some coverings to prevent the sentries from being miserable if there was foul weather. Gholand was always expanding outward as new vermin were coming in, with the slaves of the fortress being commanded to knock down some older structure and erect larger and newer barracks. Markem had a great deal of supplies, and if the vermin where to stay, he needed warm beds and decent space for his new soldiers rather than them muelling around in their camps outside.

However, what often surprised newly captured woodlanders who found themselves in Gholand, besides the better food and even decent bedding then they suspected to be lacking, was that their owner seemed to work diligently beside them, motivating the vermin to aid. Markem and ‘Dirt’ had strapped themselves with ropes around their bodies, pulling on a large slab of gray stone cut from one of the quarries which Markem owned. The warlord huffed and heaved in a simple uniform, much to the befuddlement of one of the mouse slave beside him doing the same.

“Put yer backs into it, lads! We’z almost got it in! Heave! Push!” Markem shouted. Several vermin were behind, aiding their warlord and huffing out their breath heavily. Both woodlander and vermin worked side by side, although for the woodlander’s part most had not wished to be there. The slab was brought into Gholand through a section of the walls, since the gate area was far too crowded. Markem and his otter bodyguard breathed heavily, with Markem swiftly snapping his fingers at ‘Dirt’.

“Grab me a cup o’l water, ‘Dirt’, would ya? Phew! Gutan! How many more slabs der be to bring in?”

Gutan was always surprised by Markem, the former corsair and oar slave himself, now taskmaster of the entire horde, was quick to answer “Several more chief, ya should rest. Yer back may just be given out!”

Markem shot him a dangerous glance. “I’ll worry about me back when I be dead, an if that be the case, then we all need a break. Give these slaves their rations fer the day, an’ well bring the rest in due course. Get a second shift in if ya be runnin low on time.”

“Yes, chief!” Gutan began commanding the others as ‘Dirt’ brought him a wooden cup of water which Markem chugged down. He huffed, but still remained fairly well balanced despite what felt like pulled muscles. Several vermin who were helping came over, huffing themselves. Markem gave them a decent smile “Ya did well today, me lads. Strong beasts ya are, which be why I’ll be considerin ya lot to be brought into me vanguard. Now be off to the trainin field, an’ i’ll be with ya shortly.”

One rat shot up “Yes, chief! Glad we can help ya boss.”

“Ya help me to help yerselves, me lads. This is all fer a new barracks, an’ if ya continue to help, ya will get good beds an good roofs fer the lot of ya! Now off with ya.” The rabble dispersed out of the hole in the wall, and were ready to aid their chief. In the background of this scene however, one rat stirred with annoyance, looking on with pure disgust at Markem. Luzgot wore his warlord uniform, but was flanked by several guards which Markem had kept around. Luzgot was on a short leash, and he knew it. Markem turned his attention to Luzgot who couldn’t help but try to mock him.

“Ya work hard, me great warlord. Perhaps in another life ya would have made a good slave beast, eh?”

“Can ye blame me for bein bored? Sitting on a throne all day, eaten an’ commandin ain’t but to me a personal hell. These be my peoples, an’ If Karlgo wasn’t so insistent. . .an’ smart on de’z matters, i’d be livin down here as well, in a barracks.”

Luzgot seethed. He looked on at Markem, his softness betrayed a warlord who was undeserving of the title. A warrior with a large group of allies and friends was all but a sham to disguise the fact he was a common thug and brute Luzgot would have employed. Yet here he was, some dumb work beast working along slaves, acting kind and soft to his vermin lot, and worse yet, they were aiding him. Luzgot didn’t see a warlord as much as a common soldier pretending to be better than he was.

“Fine by me, do as ya wish, me great warlord. However, may I ask to be headin off?”

“Aye, you will. Today, with a lot of company of course.”

“Yes yes, wait. . .what?” Luzgot looked on with some general confusion at first. Several rats, weasels, and ferrets in decent armor and weapons came by Markem’s side as he introduced each one by name. They had some rather diverse names, one was a rat named Bloodwatch who had a single blood red eye and face scars, one was a skinny weasel who gripped a halberd who was named Blakat. Markem finished introducing them and turned to Luzgot with a smile.

“Luzgot, meet yer new captains, strong vermin who will be accompanying you back to Luzland to help ya run yer horde. . .a bit more similar to mine. Each one paw-picked to serve in me armies, trusted with me ideas, and you will fully comply with them.”

“Half me horde wasn’t enough, ya have to run it yerself!” Luzgot shot out furiously, with Markem giving a hearty chuckle “Nay, these captains will be goin back to take half of yer horde back with them to me to be trained here, and the other half will be keepin an eye on ya and makin sure ya obey the new laws of me horde. Yer horde respects an’ honors ya to call ya chief, but I view ya what ya really are. Another useless lout who be a cruel tyrant fer the sake of yer own cruelty, a leech on me an everyone else. However, ya are a warlord an I gave ya mercy, so you will go with me mercy as an example to all the other warlords who sworn to me.”

Markem patted Luzgot’s shoulder, who tried to shove it away. “If I catch ya tryin to kill me again, Luzgot, an’ believe me I will know, I will not hesitate in endin yer life. Yer goin to go home an’ come back with yer armies an’ help me conquer Mossflower, or so help me, I will make you eat yer own guts.” The message from Markem was clear as the warlord went out into the training fields. ‘Dirt’ couldn’t help but smile as Luzgot was virtually dragged off by his new ‘captains’ to gather his guard and return home. Luzgot turned and was pushed forward, but a smile creeped off his face despite his tense conversation.

“Somethin makin ya smile, ‘chief’?” one of the fake captains asked. Luzgot sneered at him “Aye. I gots lots of business to take care of once we go back to Luzland. Lookin forward to it.”