Double-in-one***

The image of the flames lingered for a long time, even attracting the attention and applause of adults, and some attentive mothers, noticing that their tiny paws of feet brought a scorching mist when they stepped on the black ice frozen by the thin snow, carefully pulled their children to their chests, and did not let them chase the two exaggerated and strange cats and mice - but they were all fast, like a warm and bright wind, and could not be caught by ordinary people.

"It's rare to see that you have a mage here who is good at using fire. Baldwin said, carrying a steel horse face armor and appearing to be coming out of the blacksmith.

"Where's your servant?"

"Training. ”

"At this time?"

"Rigorous training, so that he can get rid of that hopeless love as soon as possible. Baldwin said, staring at the dark-haired spellcaster, who was laughing, as unbridled and uninhibited as the children beside him, "It's the first time I've seen a mage like this. He said, "Inheritance from his father or from his mother?"

Kerry didn't answer, but crossed his arms and watched Cremar play with the children - he wouldn't be burned by his flames, he could make the flamed roses open in his palms, and he could let the flaming birds peck at his fingertips, and he slapped them with his hand, and there were countless small golden red stars- As the keeper of Grey Ridge had said, and Kerry had been aware, Cremar was both a mage and a warlock, a strange situation never seen in the thousands of years of memory of the King of the Silvercrown Forest, and in his collection of books as dense as the leaves of the Silvercrown Tree.

Wang, Perrant and Kerry had discussed the issue on a golden afternoon.

Warlocks and mages are both spellcasters, and they are talents, but they are very different from each other - an ordinary mortal cannot recognize them - but in the eyes of a spellcaster who is arguably more powerful than ever, the king of the forest, a ranger who is young to an elf but can already be said to have been through generations to humans, and a druid who has twice as much experience and experience, the difference between them is as great as summer and winter.

Fenway had accused Cremar of being a warlock disguised as a mage - the elves didn't like warlocks very much, because warlocks were almost always gifted by blood, and the bloodlines flowing with magic were either demons or devils, or dragons, they were all enemies of the elves, but ask if there were ever warlocks among their friends and relatives - Although it is very rare, it does exist, but the elven warlocks who grew up in Gray Ridge have never chosen flame, and the elemental creatures they chose are either from the water elemental plane, or from the earth elemental plane, and one has chosen the air elemental plane, among which there is not no spellcaster who is more suitable for the fire element, but the love for Gray Ridge and the fear of themselves make them choose elemental creatures from other planes at the cost of reducing their own strength after hesitation.

Cremar is not evil, he is full of reverence and love for life, but he is indeed full of doubts and disobedience.

"The orcs have set up their tents," said Berdwin, "only a hundred miles from the pass. ”

"As in every previous year," Careyburn said, "there were fewer slaves and fewer cattle than the year before." ”

"It's very difficult for humans to survive on the Whisking Plains," says Berdwin, "and they are slaughtered as cattle and sheep at the slightest sign of emaciation or fatigue." ”

"The decline in livestock may be due to this mild winter," Mr. Kerryburn said, "but the look on their faces and the atmosphere that haunts them unssures me." ”

Humans want to get close enough to the orc army that they can see their expressions, but elves are effortless, their eyes are as sharp as falcons, their steps are as light as a gust of wind passing through the grass, and they can even melt their breath into the air.

"What kind of look and atmosphere?" asked Berdwin.

"It's like they've seen the mystery hidden in the treasure box," replied the Elven Ranger, "and in their favor." ”

An orc looked at the mage warily.

His lips were redder than the blood of any creature orcing they had ever seen, his eyes were always slightly drooping, his hood was worn, and his hands were tucked into wide sleeves, and he was one of the few humans allowed to walk freely in the orc tent. As he passed, the fur of the young warriors of the orcs would stand on end, their shoulders would rise involuntarily, their fists would clench, and to their shame, their tails would curl uncontrollably between their legs - their noses could smell ashes, blood, fur, oil, The smell of herbs, as they had smelled from the priests of the tribe, but they could also smell the dried rose petals that the priests could not smell (they knew this because the slave girls of the merchants would wipe their bodies with this), the smell of silk, agarwood, and myrrh, and a smell that they had never smelled before, but which made them chill and numb their hands and feet.

The mage had no interest in what the orcs thought, his potions had all been sold, and now he was selling goods and his thoughts that he had been hoarding for a long time.

The newborn orc warriors were sent out to capture the outcasts who thought they were being protected by a powerful lord—the poor creatures who were still immersed in a sweet dream of satiation, tranquility, and freedom, and who had managed to gain a weak foothold in such a short time in a land that was neither fertile nor warm. The potatoes and sweet potatoes they planted had only been harvested once, the blades of grass on the huts had not yet been replaced, the captured argali's goats had to be tightened so that they would not escape, the children were often lost in the thorny bushes, and the wild animals did not give up their coveting and wary of these humans......

It wasn't that none of them thought that such a beautiful illusion would disappear one morning, but what they didn't expect was how quickly the bad news would come, and no one thought that they were just sheep raised in a haystack by the mages on behalf of the orcs. They were oblivious to the sword hanging over their heads, and when the young orcs came to hunt them, there were people who ridiculously held up the so-called charter, claiming that they had freedom and the land for fifty years, and he was cut in half, and the newborn orcs, who had been half-starved, eagerly jumped off their horses, drank the blood that flowed from his body, and scooped up his internal organs with both hands and munched on them.

Had it not been for the older, more experienced, more sensible and authoritative orc warriors who drove them away with whips and blades, they would probably have eaten everything they could from village to village - which would probably have caused the rest of the humans to flee - even though these humans could not compare their strength and pace to horses in the dark steppes, but ...... Their leader pulled a thick silver chain from his neck, on which hung a magical time-keeping paraphernalia said to have come from the mage's hand, and they were to return to the tribe's joint camp on the first day of the siege with this "fresh meat".

It wasn't that there were no humans with stone knives, stone axes, wooden flails, spears, and ploughs, and the leader drove his horse through the shoddy huts that human children had made, keeping an eye on each of the newborn warriors, whose fragile weapons could not penetrate even their pine resin-coated fur, except for the little brown-haired fellow, who had been carelessly stabbed in the eye by a flaming coal, howled in rage, and tried to throw the human into the shack that was being consumed by the golden flames.

He was severely stopped by the chief, and this waste of food could never be afforded by the tribe now, and the little fellow was whipped for his carelessness, but on the other hand, the punishment for the human race was to be made alive into bacon - after all the villages had been cleared, the women were gathered together to take care of the broken limbs, and to dispose of them simply so that they would not rot, and to put them in bags and take them away.

They can refuse or even resist, if they want to watch their fathers, husbands, and children tortured – the wailing man is a warning that there is no better thing to do, but if they are willing to do their job, their relatives and friends and themselves will be temporarily saved, and even if some of them are injured or sick and unable to walk, they can get a clean death.

The aroma of barbecue spreads everywhere.

It was the last great feast before the war, and this vulgar and friendly dinner invited almost everyone who was living and visiting Thundercastle - tomorrow's food was to be distributed according to the supply system, and some wealthy families might have hidden some food, but at that time they would never be able to take it out to eat and drink - people took the last chance to eat and drink, shouting, dancing, singing, tomorrow, The day after tomorrow, or on the third or fourth day, they will have to fight hard and dangerously, and they may only eat a piece of jerky and a loaf of bread every day.

However, this rule, which would have become very strict elsewhere, was somewhat loosened in Thundercastle, which was more special than other castles - it only had to face enemies in one direction instead of four, and its country and people were behind it, and it could get a steady stream of support from the Normans of the Highlands - it just took time, after all, there was no magic that could instantly transfer the food needed for a castle from another place to this place.

There were no clowns in Thundercastle, and the only bard only sang two poems for the occasion, because he might need to sing to soothe and motivate people after the battle began, and of course, no one bothered the mages anymore, although they played a few tricks and didn't interfere with the spell casting later, but in the face of the orcs all over the mountain, it was not too cautious.

The elves also wore blue and silver robes or pure blue robes, just like Kerriben and Cremar, and they would wear them this way from today until the end of the battle to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings.

Birdwin focused on introducing them to several knights and mages, mainly for Cremar, the other elves were not the first time to come to Thundercastle, the mages of Thundercastle seemed to be no different from knights except for the robes outside, the same tall and strong, wearing a long sword and dagger of pure gold, and thick and distinct knuckles, making people wonder if he could make spellcasting gestures as dexterously as a real spellcaster.

Of course, they could, and one of the oldest mages was even a good wielder of fire, and he was willing to talk to Cremar about how to properly cast spells and create magical tools so that the violent and elusive fire elemental creatures would fall completely under their mage robes.

"Tomorrow?" asked Berdwin, "is it too hasty? ”

"They've set up camp," said Kerryben, "I hope the orcs share your thoughts, sir, so that we may be able to get an unexpected little loot before the war begins." ”

Baldwin grimaced.

"Well," he said, "you, who else?"

"Cremar. ”

"You really like this kid," said Berdwin, "and take him with you wherever you go." ”

“...... He's a mage, too," said Kerryben, "fifty squads, one mage for each team—I took him only because he was in war for the first time, not in battle. ”

"I know," Berdwin insisted, "but I always felt like he was different." ”

Penny was attending a meeting of the Norman ladies of the Highlands for the first time.

She had put on her make-up with the help of the Baroness, her lips covered with rouge extracted from shells and beetles, her face rubbed with heavy white lead powder, and her eyes were painted with thick blue lines - if he saw it, Berdwin would have thought that his lady hadn't slept properly for a few days. The black grease on the eyelashes was mixed with gemstone powder, and in the blink of an eye it beat like a young man's heart, and Penny's somewhat pale eyebrows were deliberately drawn thin and long, with a high tail and a small black mole on the tip of her left eyebrow.

Her fingernails were coated with gold dust, her chest was almost ** hidden under a heavy fur, and her face was rubbed with white ** lead powder, and the baroness provided her waist was more than half thinner, except it was clearly not created to facilitate walking and breathing—but it didn't matter, she could hold on- Penny struggled most with the skirt that dragged behind her, and the necklaces and bracelets that hung around her neck and wrists, as well as rings, the former of which dragged a full twelve steps, and the latter heavy like a beautiful set of shackles.

"Someone will ask you what crime you have committed to get such an expensive set of shackles," said the Baroness, "and they will scramble to break that law." ”

Penny put a lot of effort into the party, giving the baroness a jewel worth five thousand gold coins and a delicate gift for everyone in the party.

She was full of expectations.

"Another one. A countess who happened to pass by said, and used a fan to block her daughter's curious gaze.

"It's not something worth and a good fit for you to care about. She said in a stern tone.

"Why," said the daughter, "aren't there all the pretty ladies who hold and attend the party there?"

"Yes," her mother patiently explained, "there are indeed three baroness and one viscountess there...... No, there should be three baroness and two viscountesses by now, but in essence, they are just a bunch of ...... The prostitute (at this point, she pouted contemptuously)—well, the word is not allowed to be remembered, nor spoken, or I will prick you in the mouth with a needle," the countess threatened, and with satisfaction seeing that her daughter immediately held her mouth, she looked slightly sideways at the outside of the carriage, where the splendid building had been left far behind: "There they are to greet their noble and wealthy guests, and of course not their husbands- So, don't tell anyone that you know there, and don't even get close to it, or even walk in there.

Unless you want to be ridiculed, despised and fooled forever. ”

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