A Grand Design 12.

Mid Autumn. Salme. Dalmar. Girdane.

"Fucking idiot" mutters lord Farque "What is it?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine the field commander with a glance at the undead warlord next to him.
"Dorc" sourly says the heavily armoured deathlord who has just sensed a violent death in the south part of town. A death perpetrated by the ork warleader Dorc da Orc.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque when they first arrived in town a number of weeks ago. Sensed that there was a dwarf living here, infact he sensed a family of them.
And he warned the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, who had sniffed out that there were dwarves in Salme. To stay away from them or else.
Things were fine when they traveled elsewhere throughout the duchy of Dalmar and the duchies of Girnath and Falosen here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
And have been since they've come back to the town of Salme, which is essentially the duchy of Dalmar's capital.
But now, the large ork has decided to take action. And his natural hate for the dwarven race has come through. And he's gone and killed one of them.
"What did he do?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine who like the lord of the death realm, is speaking in the elven language.
Draugadrottin as he's also known by to the people of his lands, just grunts in reply.
The nobleborn teenager who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin can guess that the ork warleader has probably gone and killed somebody he shouldn't have.
That usually brings the ire of the undead warlord down upon the large ork who is a general in lord Farque's armies.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, looks back down at the maps on the table infront of them. Showing the kingdom of Girdane, mostly the west of the kingdom.
He along with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, as well as Arvelle Ganard the plainsman are in the castle of duke Hilloc of Dalmar.
They're going over some of the plans that the duke and his allies have come up with for their rebellion against the crown and the king.
"Well?" quietly asks the heavily armoured deathlord "They have to get their army out of the west of the kingdom as quickly as they can" replies Tam as he points at one of the maps.
"If they get bogged down here in the west during the winter, their rebellion will get no where" continues the son and heir of a former knight of castle Drubine, a castle located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
"The further east they advance the better" adds the young field commander in the armies of Farque.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque nods his full helmed head in agreement, then quietly says "This rebellion of theirs will be won the closer they get to the capital" he continues with "I doubt there'll be a battle for Oaklynn, it can't be defended. It's too big, and it's not walled. And the fact the airdocks are outside the city proper, makes a huge difference".
The undead being then adds "And since the regent of Oaklynn is the king's cousin, and apparently they're close. I expect the regent's forces will join with the king's army to fight the rebellion" Draugadrottin continues with "No matter how much the laws of the kingdom say the regent's forces are a separate entity to the kingdom's army".
Field commander Drubine nods to that, and looks across the room to where duke Hilloc is speaking with some of his advisors and allies, along with Arvelle the plainsman.
Tam suspects that lord Farque is right. As the regent of Oaklynn's forces will fight alongside the king's army as they attempt to put down the rebellion.
For the simple reason there's bad blood between lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn, and duke Hilloc of Dalmar.
It's no secret the duke of Dalmar hates the regent of Oaklynn for marrying his cousin the lady Mera. A forced marriage if the rumours are true.
A marriage that apparently the king of Girdane gave his permission to go ahead with.
If the increased taxes upon the three western most duchies in the kingdom wasn't bad enough. That forced marriage upon the lady Mera. Was enough for duke Hilloc to go ahead with his plans for a revolt against the crown.
And he's spent the last year and a half waiting for the opportune time to go ahead with a rebellion. And now that time has come.
Tamric Drubine looks down at the maps again, then after a few moments of silence he quietly says "As much as I'd like to see one large battle where we can defeat the king's army, i don't see that happening".
Des'tier as the deathlord of Farque is known by to an older generation of elven kind, nods his full helmed head in agreement, then he quietly says "Rebellions or revolutions never really go like that" he continues with "That's why civil wars tend to go on for some time".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then says "They're mostly minor engagements, with an occasional larger battle" Draugadrottin follows that with "That's why the best chance for the duke's rebellion to succeed is to get further east as quickly as possible, and to take out the enemy before they head out this way in force".
Tam nods, then he quietly asks the lord of the death realm "When do you think the fighting will begin in earnest?".
"Late autumn" says the undead warlord who continues with "We have to wait for our army to get here as well as the armies of the three duchies to gather".
The heavily armoured deathlord is about to continue on with something else when he falls silent as a page enters the room, and makes his way over to the duke of Dalmar to have a quiet word with him.
"We're going" quietly says lord Farque to the young field commander as he hears what the page has to say to the duke.
"What is it?" asks Tamric Drubine "Lis and Tovis are outside waiting for us" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque who sensed Lisell Maera the messenger and Tovis the war engineer at the nearby airdocks for some reason. And who he now senses outside in the inner bailey of the duke's castle.
The deathlord of Farque and the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin make their way over to duke Hilloc.
And before he tells them that there's an urgent message waiting for them outside. The undead being tells him that they'll be leaving, and will return to the castle later.
Then lord Farque, Tamric Drubine and Arvelle Ganard the plainsman make their way out of the room. Then their way out of the main keep of the castle that sits upon a hill in the northern part of town.
"Not here" quietly says the undead warlord in the elven language once they're out of the main keep, and in the inner bailey, where they meet Lisell Maera and Tovis the war engineer. And the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury goes to say something.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group, who is holding a leather satchel nods her head and stays silent.
Then the five of then cross the bailey, go through the gates of the inner wall, then make their way across the outer bailey, before exiting the castle through the main gates in the outer wall.
They head down the cobblestone road that goes from the duke's castle, all the way through the town of Salme.
And when they're down the hill the castle sits on, they turn left onto the street that leads to the modest sized airdocks that are nearby.
Before they get to them, they turn right into another street, which heads in the direction of the Wayfarer inn, where they're staying whilst in town.
It's only when they're on that street that the lord and ruler of the lands Farque breaks the silence, and quietly says in the elven language to Lis "What is it?".
"The captain of the ship it came on" quietly says Lisell Maera in the same language as she hands the leather satchel to the heavily armoured deathlord "Also had a verbal message from Mira" adds the attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, who follows that with "Mira said it was urgent" as she gestures at the leather satchel she's just handed to the lord of the death realm.
Draugadrottin figured as much, as Mira Reinholt the mage has been sending messages from the capital Oaklynn where he is with Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy and Shur Kee the monk. That usually arrives here in Salme on First Day. Not Fifth Day as it is today.
The undead warlord slightly nods his full helmed head, then remains silent as do the others as they make their way back to the Wayfarer inn.
Once they're back in the two storey inn they're staying at, they're met by sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Beldane the cleric in the otherwise empty common room.
And as lord Farque tells them all to go into the private dining room, sir Percavelle Lé Dic says to him "That big green smelly demon has been chortle and chuckling to himself for the last little while as he drinks a storm out there, wot" as he gestures towards to the courtyard out the back.
The lord of the death realm nods, and heads that way. While the others make their way to the private dining room, with the exception of Tamric Drubine who follows after the heavily, armoured deathlord.
Out in the back courtyard behind the inn, Dorc da Orc is sniggering as he drinks from a barrel of ale, while he sits beneath a tree.
The large ork clears his throat, and tries not to grin, but fails to when he sees lord Farque walk from the backdoor of the common room.
The ork warleader stands up, and is barely able to suppress a bout of laughter as he thinks of what he did a little earlier.
"Hey Farque" says Dorc da Orc who just remembers not to call the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, cunt. As he doesn't like that.
"I told you not to do that cunt" says the undead warlord in the ork language as he crosses the back courtyard to the big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world.
"Do fucken what?" replies Dorkindle in the same language, wondering if lord Farque knows what he's done. Or if someone saw him do it, and told the lord and ruler of the lands Farque what he did.
That fucken gob-a-lin better not of ratted me out, the ork weaponsmith thinks to himself, just before he's punched in the face by the right gauntleted hand of the heavily armoured deathlord. A punch he doesn't even see.
From the backdoor of the common room, Tamric Drubine winces when he sees the large ork get lifted off the ground, and go flying backwards to hit the tree behind him after getting punched in the face by the lord of the death realm. The ork warleader is out cold before he hit the tree, then dropped to the ground.
Then Draugadrottin picks up the unconscious ork general, and puts him over his right shoulder.
And crosses back to the backdoor of the common room of the inn. All the while, the stablehand stands at the open door of the stables. With a muck rake in hand, and his mouth agape at what he just saw.
Field commander Drubine turns, and heads to the private dining room, with lord Farque following behind him with the unconscious ork weaponsmith on his right shoulder.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic chuckles when lord Farque enters the private dining room with Dorc da Orc over his right shoulder, then he dumps the unconscious ork weaponsmith in a corner.
The large ork is loudly snoring as he lies there in a corner of the private dining room.
Then the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, along with the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin take a seat at the long table with the others.
Draugadrottin sits at one end, with Arvelle the plainsman sitting in the first seat to the right, which is usually occupied by Helbe the elven thief.
"Helbe heading this way yet?" quietly asks Arvelle Ganard the plainsman as the lord of the death realm opens the leather satchel that's been sealed with a spell cast by Mira Reinholt the mage.
The undead warlord senses as far as he can away to the west. The direction the elven masterthief, prince Helbenthril Raendril has gone. As the krean scoutship the El Mariq is waiting beyond the borders of the duchy of Dalmar and the kingdom of Girdane.
"He's not coming back this way yet" is the quiet reply from lord Farque in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra which Arvelle the plainsman spoke in.
"Or i should say, he's not within thirty miles of here" adds the undead being who then falls silent as he takes out the first missive from the leather satchel and quickly reads it.
The mage Reinholt writes of the mood of the capital city Oaklynn, and how the talk of a potential rebellion and of the plague in the very west of the kingdom, dominates a lot of the conversations one hears throughout the city.
The deathlord of Farque hands that missive to the former illegal wrecker, Arvelle Ganard. Then he takes out the second missive from the satchel and reads that.
This one is more detailed. Giving troop movements leaving and arriving the various barracks throughout the city of Oaklynn. Both of the king's army and of the regent's forces. As the build up for a push out west continues.
The undead warlord slightly frowns as he reads this. As Mira Reinholt writes of how small scouting squads are only just now leaving the city and heading out to the west of the kingdom.
And that the build up continues, though the king's army are getting various supplies, mainly medicinal and healing from a number of temples and churches in the capital city Oaklynn.
It's as if, lord Farque thinks to himself as he hands that missive to Arvelle the plainsman and takes out the next one and starts reading it.
The heavily armoured deathlord frowns even more as he reads what the Vexilian mage in exile, Mira Reinholt writes now.
The once powerful mage who like Arvelle Ganard and Helbe the elven thief. Are members of lord Farque's personal council.
Writes that even though rebellion in the west is often talked about by palace officials and army staff. The army is preparing for move out west only to combat the spread of the plague. And not to put down any potential rebellion from the dukes of the three most western duchies of the kingdom.
And the mage Reinholt has yet to find any evidence to counter that. He along with Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy and Shur Kee the monk in the weeks they've been in the city of Oaklynn.
Thought, like a lot of the population of the city. That the army was using the spread of the plague in the west of the kingdom as an excuse to put down a potential rebellion.
But now, they can't prove that at all. And the mage Reinholt who believes the army is actually coming out west to legitimately stop the spread of the plague. Suspects that something is wrong. Or that something else is at play here.
For all the unpredictability of Mira Reinholt at times. The undead warlord does trust his judgment when it comes to things like this. As the once powerful mage since he was a teenager has been in many wars and campaigns. And seen how they've built up, and been started.
In fact he's started some of them. Along with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and the ork warleader Dorc da Orc.
The lord of the death realm is silent for some time until he hands the last missive to Arvelle Ganard to read.
Seeing the plainsman and former wrecker Arvelle suddenly frown as he reads the last missive handed to him by the undead warlord.
The young field commander Tamric Drubine who is sitting on the first chair to the left of where the deathlord of Farque is sitting at the end of the table.
Looks at the large figure in the blue/black heavy plate armour and quietly asks him "What is it?".
As the unconscious Dorc da Orc continues to snore in a corner of the private dining room, lord Farque looks at Tamric Drubine, then the others seated at the table, before he says "Something's wrong" . . . . . .

A Grand Design 11.

Mid Autumn. The Town Of Salme. The Duchy Of Dalmar. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

Looking at a group of riders who have just come into town, and are making their way to the duke's castle.
Tovis the war engineer quietly says "A nobleman and his troops" as the riders head around a corner and go out of sight.
Nodding his head in agreement, Beldane the cleric says "That's more of the duke's allies and vassals coming in" the fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell continues with "They should have a fairly substantial army before long".
The young engineer who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, nods his head in agreement with the member of the church of Glaine.
Then the two of them, war engineer and cleric, continue on their way back to the Wayfarer inn, where they and the rest of the group are staying.
As they do, they chat about their lives before they joined the group they're now with.
For Beldane who has been with the group the lest amount of time. Doesn't know the others in the group that well.
And Tovis doesn't mind sharing. Unlike a few others in the group. Notably lord Farque. Who only speaks to you when he wants to.
And Dorc da Orc, who tends to just growl and swear at the powerful cleric. And when the large ork does speak of his past, usually when he's drinking.
He usually talks of something wildly fantastical, that it's hard to take him seriously.
Then there's the complete opposite. In particular sir Percavelle Lé Dic. Who is all too willing to talk about the past. Even when you don't want to hear about it.
Beldane doesn't even have to prompt the former earl of Lé Dic to speak of his past. The large, heavily armoured knight will bring it up without even being asked.
And he'll go on and on about it. That it'll drive the fighting cleric to boredom. So much so, that he has to find excuses to get away from the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic when he's in that kind of mood.
"You must of been fairly young when you started designing things alongside your father" says the cleric in the church of Glaine as they continue to chat.
"I was fairly young" admits the young engineer, who follows on in a slightly dry tone with "The baron had plans" he continues with "That eventually came to fruition a number of years later" Tovis then adds "Which all came crashing down around him, when he came up against Percy's young niece and her army".
"And the group" says Beldane who has heard how the war engineer joined the group when they were in the kingdom of Druvic, helping the young lady Linara Lé Dic defend her fief against a baron Harkonin, whose army Tovis served in.
"And the group" says the young engineer who nods in agreement, as they turn a street corner, and enter the street the two storey inn they're staying at, is on.
When they're inside the Wayfarer inn, Beldane the cleric is cornered by sir Percavelle Lé Dic who wants to tell him something. Tovis who knows better, quickly slips away. And heads out the backdoor of the common room.
And makes his way out to the back courtyard of the Wayfarer inn. Where Lisell Maera is practicing her sword work under the not so watchful eye of Dorc da Orc. Who is sitting beneath a tree on the edge of the courtyard. Busy drinking from some barrels of ale. Which to him is much more important than watching the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury practice with the sword.
Sitting upon a bench on one side of the courtyard, the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic. Still finds himself attracted to Lisell Maera.
Oh he knows he has no chance with Lis, as she's more commonly called by the others in the group. As she rebuffed him a couple of times after he first joined the group.
But he still can't help but feel attracted to her at times like this. When things are quiet, and she's practicing with her sword like she is now.
"You're better than you were when i first met you lot" says Tovis the war engineer when Lis comes to a stop, and makes her way over to the bench and sits next to him.
Using a cloth she takes from her cloak that's draped over the end of the bench, and wiping the sweat from her forehead, Lisell Maera the messenger says "Thanks".
The attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, who will freely admit that she isn't the best with a shortsword, as it isn't her preferred weapons, then says "I'm still not that great with it".
"Better than me" dryly says the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic, which causes the messenger in the armies of Farque to chuckle.
Tovis can use a sword fine enough, and can swing one in battle if he really has to. Though he tends to use one like he's chopping at wood.
And when he first demonstrated that to lord Farque. The undead warlord wryly told him that no matter how much he practiced with a sword. He'd still be just as likely to chop at those he's fighting alongside with, as much as chop at those he's fighting against.
And to stick with using the hammer. As the war engineer is actually really good at wielding that particular weapon.
"Dorc am i getting better with the sword?" calls out Lisell Maera to the large ork sitting beneath one of the trees on the otherside of the courtyard.
A distracted sounding grunt comes from the ork warleader who is busy slurping the last of the ale from one of the barrels he's got with him.
"Critic" dryly says Lis with a shake of her head as she looks over at the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world sitting on the otherside of the courtyard, here at the back of the Wayfarer inn.
Then just as the war engineer is about to ask the messenger something. A boy makes his way out of the backdoor of the common room. Looks around, gawks at Dorc da Orc when he spots him.
Then remembering what he's here for, he continues to look around, spots Lis sitting next to Tovis, and makes his way over to her.
Though he keeps glancing at Dorkindle as he does so.
"Lady a message" says the boy, who the attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury recognises from the airdocks, who runs messages for ships that come into Salme.
"A trader has come in from Oaklynn on his way to the coast" says the boy who continues with "He has something for you".
Lisell Maera after sharing a look with Tovis the war engineer, says to the young boy "Tell him I'll be along shortly to pick it up".
The boy nods, then hurries back the way he came, though as he crosses the courtyard, he can't help but look sideways at the ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
"I'll come along" says Tovis who gets up with Lis as she puts on her cloak.
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury nods, then quietly says "It must be important whatever it is" she continues with "As the next ones from Mira aren't due until the beginning of next week".
The war engineer nods, then the two of them cross the courtyard, and Lisell Maera says to the ork weaponsmith "Dorc we're going to the docks to pick up something" she then adds "Tell the lord if he comes back before we get back".
The large ork just grunts in acknowledgment. Which is fine enough for Lis, as at least the warleader of the ork race didn't flat out ignore her.
After Lisell Maera and Tovis the war engineer go back into the Wayfarer inn through the backdoor.
Dorc da Orc puts down the barrel of ale he's just finished. And he tilts his head to one side to hear what's going on inside.
He hears Lis and Tovis go out the front of the inn and head along the street, on their way to the town's airdocks.
While inside, he hears the loudmouth knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic. Telling Beldane the cleric about a particularly battle he was in a number of years ago.
The big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world dismissively snorts as he hears the former paladin describing the battle.
Dorkindle thinks the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic is talking utter shit. As the ork warleader was in the exact same battle. On the otherside. Who came close to killing the former knight of the first class a number of times during that battle.
"Lying fucken knight cunt" mutters Dorc da Orc in his native language, then after he looks around, the large ork who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks stands up and says "Hey cunt" to a stablehand watching him from the open doors of the inn's stables.
"Make sure no fucker touches that" says the ork weaponsmith gesturing at the barrel of ale he's yet to broach and drink from.
The stablehand who actually understood what the ork general just said, nods his head that he will.
Dorkindle grunts in satisfaction, then he quickly makes his way along the tree lined side of the courtyard at the back of the Wayfarer inn. And when he gets to the wall at that end, he easily climbs over it to get into the alleyway behind the inn and stables.
The big, burly ork sniffs, then grunts, and goes left down the alleyway, softly chuckling to himself as he does so. Then Dorc da Orc scowls in anger. Which quickly changes to a grin of anticipation. Followed by another chuckle as he reaches the end of the empty alleyway.
Where he looks out at the street the alleyway ends up in. He looks both ways, then goes to the right.
He tries to be inconspicuous as he heads through town. But it doesn't really work considering he's seven and half foot tall, weighs seven hundred and fifty pounds. Is all green. And is covered, basically from head to foot, in weapons. Enough to outfit a company of soldiers in any army.
As he makes his way through the town of Salme, frequently sniffing. The ork warleader who is a general in the armies of Farque. Alternates between scowling in anger, and grinning with pleasure.
Which if people didn't have enough reason to keep out of his way already. Then doing that surely does. And the fact he more than reeks. As he hasn't been rained on in a while. Nor has he fallen in, or been pushed into a stream or river of late.
The ork weaponsmith ends up in the south side of the town of Salme. In an alley behind a number of shops.
The large ork looks over to a tin merchants shop down the street. Alternatively glaring and grinning as he does so.
Then Dorkindle who knows that lord Farque, Arvelle the plainsman and Tamric Drubine are on the otherside of town at the duke's castle.
While Lisell Maera and Tovis the war engineer are now at the town's modest sized airdocks near the castle.
And Beldane the cleric and sir Percavelle Lé Dic are back at the Wayfarer inn.
And Helbe the elven thief and Narladene the ground pixie are out of town at the moment.
Waits in the alleyway for an opportunity. He doesn't have to wait long. When he spots a goblin coming down the street in this direction.
"Fucken gob-a-lin will do" Dorc da Orc mutters to himself, then he steps back and when the goblin gets to the mouth of the alleyway, the large ork says in the common language "In here cunt".
The goblin jumps in fright when he hears the ork warleader, who he stares at, too frightened to move.
The large ork rolls his eyes, then says "Me not gonna eats you" he then mutters in the ork language "You fuckers taste yucky anyway".
Dorkindle gestures the dark green goblin into the alleyway, and tells him "Me gots a fucken job for you".
Though at first reluctant, the goblin then quickly steps into the alleyway and says "Yes boss" when the ork weaponsmith holds out a handful of coins.
The big, burly ork who is always a little careless with his coins, gives them to the goblin. They're a mix of gold, silver and copper coins. More than the goblin will ever make in a week. Infact it's more than it will make in a month of work.
"You knows that fucken tinsmith's down the street?" asks Dorc da Orc who then adds "And the fucken boss in there?".
"Yes boss, that's Bretal" says the dark goblin, who does all sorts of jobs for the various merchants in the south part of town.
"Goods" murmurs the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks. Then he tells the goblin, who doesn't get too close to the large ork again, because he stinks. What he wants him to do.
The goblin listens carefully as the general in the armies of Farque tells him to go into the tinsmith's and tell the merchant that a trader wants to talk to him about a potential deal.
From one of his sacks, Dorkindle takes out a small ingot of high quality iron that he got from a trader at the airdocks yesterday.
He gives it to the goblin, and tells him to give it to the merchant who owns the tinsmith's, and tell him that's the quality of iron he has for sale. And to have the merchant meet him.
"You know that fucken wine shop around the corner?" asks the large ork gesturing back down the alleyway.
"The taverna, i do boss" says the goblin "Goods" says Dorc da Orc who continues with "Tell him to meet me there" he follows that with "Me is fucken busy, so me won't be there fucken long".
The dark goblin nods, then the ork weaponsmith tells him "Don't fucken says who me is, or what's me look like" the warleader of the ork race then mutters in his native language "The fucken cunt will knows what me is if you do".
"Just say" continues Dorkindle in the common language, who briefly pauses then grins as he adds "The big rich boss wants to see him" he follows that with "And me will be sitting out the front of that fucken wine shop" the large ork looks at the goblin and says "Got it?".
"Got it boss" says the goblin, the ork weaponsmith nods, then says "Repeats what me wants you to fucken do".
The goblin does so, and satisfied that the goblin will do what he's tasked it to do, Dorc da Orc tells him "Go on, get going" followed by "Oh and another thing, don't fucken come along with the tinsmith".
"Yes boss" says the dark goblin, who with the ingot of iron in his hand, makes his way out of the alleyway, and crosses the street.
"Fucken gob-a-lin" mutters the large ork as the goblin trips, and almost falls flat on his face.
But he makes it across the street without falling, and heads down to where the tin merchant's shop is located.
Dorkindle who is peeking out of the alleyway, steps back when he sees the goblin enter the tinsmith's.
The general in the armies of the lands Farque takes a couple of steps to the side, and puts his back up against the wall behind him.
Then he repeatedly sniffs, and listens carefully. Until a short while later, he hears and smells the goblin exit the tinsmith's, followed by the merchant.
And as the goblin heads the other way down the street. The tin merchant heads this way. Towards the alleyway, which is the quickest way to the nearby taverna on the next street over.
Dorc da Orc who is absolutely still, and who has worked on a plan he has come with for the last few days. Grins when he smells and hears the tin merchant heading this way.
The large ork then snaps out his right arm, and grabs the tin merchant Bretal by the throat as he's about to step into the alleyway.
The ork warleader lifts him up by the throat, swings him around and slams his head into the wall behind him. Not once, nor twice, but three times. The tin merchant was dead after the first time his head was smashed into the wall.
Dorc da Orc then flings the basically headless body up onto the roof behind him.
Then he casually walks back down the alleyway, knowing that he's just killed the tin merchant, Bretal the dwarf.
The ork general who is grinning from ear to ear, whistles, badly and out of tune, as he heads back through the town of Salme to the Wayfarer inn . . . . . .

A Grand Design 10.

Mid Autumn. The City Of Oaklynn. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

As Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy watches a squad of soldiers ride out from their barracks.
He spots Mira Reinholt the mage walking down the street on this cool autumn morning here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
The elven spy who hails from the principality of Alínlae continues to watch the departing soldiers in the king's army, until the once powerful mage reaches him as he stands at the corner of a building.
"They heading out to the west?" quietly asks Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy "They are" is the reply from Mira Reinholt the mage who quickly read some of the minds of the soldiers who just rode down the street.
"And?" asks the spy Tanith "They're going to help stop the spread of the plague" says the mage Reinholt who like Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, is speaking the elven language.
The spy originally from the elven principality of Alínlae, eyebrows lift up in surprise, then he quietly says to the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster "You'd think the advanced scouts would know what's actually going on".
The mage who is originally from the city-state of Vexil, his homeland that he's in exile from, nods his hooded head in agreement, and he quietly says "Something strange is definitely going on" he then adds "What it is, I'm not exactly sure".
Dalin nods his own hooded head in agreement to that. Then the two of them start making their way down to the other end of the street. In the opposite direction the soldiers went.
As they do, the spy Tanith quietly asks "I gather you got them onboard?".
"I did" says the Vexilian mage in exile who has just returned from the airdocks just to the north of the city, where he gave a satchel of documents to a captain of an airship in the fleet of the Reinholt Trading Company.
Whose vessel is heading west to the coast of the Southlands. Who will stop off in the duchy of Dalmar to deliver the satchel to the others in the group who are out in the western duchies of the kingdom of Girdane.
"And we still haven't found anyone who knows exactly what's going on" quietly says Dalinvardél Tanith as they head to the center of the city.
"What about that drunk court official you've been hanging out with?" asks the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until most of his powers was stripped from him when he accidentally went offworld after he miscast a rift/void spell.
"Nothing new really" says the elven spy from Alínlae, who continues on with "Just more gossip from within the palace more than anything else".
The mage Reinholt nods, then the two of them fall silent as a pair of city guards, who are under the command of the regent of Oaklynn and his city council, walk by them.
They've learnt that some of the city guards, along with the regents own troops, speak other languages such as elven.
Something of a curiosity considering multiple languages spoken by soldiers and officers over in the army of the crown, is a rarity.
"The nobles I've seen come and go out of the palace are the same" says Mira Reinholt once they continue their conversation.
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster then adds "From what I've read of their minds, their opinions are split. Half of them don't care about the plague and hope it wipes out more people out west. And the other half want it halted, so it doesn't spread to other parts of the kingdom".
It's no secret that there's rumblings of revolution from the western duchies of the kingdom of Girdane.
Especially in the last eighteen months or so. After the king's cousin, lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn, married the lady Mera. The cousin of duke Hilloc of Dalmar.
"But they're going along with the king's decision to stop the the plague from spreading" says the Vexilian mage in exile, who after a moment's pause adds "Which is just an excuse to quash the potential rebellion out west".
"Or is it?" quietly says Dalinvardél Tanith as they turn onto another street, Mira Reinholt faintly grimaces. As it seems more and more likely to them, that the crown really is trying to halt the plague from spreading throughout the kingdom. And are not going out to the western most duchies to put down any rebellion that may occur.
The two of them, the once powerful mage and the elven spy are fairly quiet as they continue to make their way towards the palace.
Only speaking occasionally, and when they do. They talk of trivial things, nothing much more about the reason they're here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of Girdane.
Though when they near the palace, the mage Reinholt quietly asks the spy Tanith "Which way did Shur Kee go this morning?".
Gesturing away to the right, Dalin says "The southern quarter of the city" the elven spy who once served in one of the more prominent noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae, then adds "He's working his way back up this way" followed by "Should be here around midday".
The swordmaster Reinholt nods his hooded head as they walk around the grounds of the king's palace.
And when they're eventually on the long street on the south side of the palace, they make their way to a taverna that isn't too far from the palace gates.
The two of them take a seat at an outside table infront of the taverna. And after ordering from the serving woman who comes outside to greet them.
The two of them watch the open and guarded gates, a bit further to the left, on the opposite side of the street from them.
As they do, they watch everyone coming in, or going out of the open gates on this side of the palace.
With the Vexilian mage in exile, safe in the knowledge that he can't be sensed by other spellcasters due to the amulet he wears on a silver chain around his neck. Reading the minds of those either entering, or exiting the palace grounds.
After getting their drinks, and the light meals they've ordered. And as Mira Reinholt reads the minds of what looks like a group of local merchants entering the palace.
Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. Looks away to the right down the long street as he sips from a goblet of warm, spiced wine.
After a few moments, the elven spy who is an officer in the scouts and rangers in the armies of Farque slightly frowns.
"Have you checked those going in and out of the regent's place?" quietly asks Dalin "Huh?" says the mage Reinholt who adds "What was that?" as he was busy concentrating reading the minds of a couple of court officials making their way out of palace grounds.
"Down the street, the regent's place" says the spy from the elven principality of Alínlae "Have you checked those going in and out of there?" adds Dalinvardél Tanith.
"I have" says the Vexilian mage in exile who after draining some power from a spell gem in a hidden pocket of his cloak, adds "Not many people go in and out of there, mostly household staff".
The elf in the grey cloak, nods his hooded head, then asks the once powerful mage "What about the council building on the otherside of it?".
"A couple of times" says the spellcaster who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "That first week we arrived".
"Maybe you should again" quietly says Dalin, Mira Reinholt glances at the elven spy who tells him "A court official who left the palace as we were sitting down, just entered the city council building" the spy Tanith continues with "I know the kingdom and the city are basically operated independently. But since the king and the city regent are cousins. I wonder if it'll be easier to find out what's really going on if we concentrate down there, than up here at the palace where it's far busier".
The mage Reinholt slowly nods his hooded head, then the elf originally from the principality of Alínlae says "Call it a hunch" he follows that with "But that court official was carrying a sealed envelope" he continues with "Now why would a court official be carrying that?" followed by "Why isn't a messenger carrying it?".
The Vexilian mage in exile nods his hooded head again, then says "Good point" the councillor Reinholt continues with "Let's wander down there".
The two of them finish their warm wine, get up, and start making their way down the long street, the longest one in all of Oaklynn.
As they do, the highly skilled swordmaster quietly says to the elven spy "See if you can spot a place where we can observe both the regent's place and the council building from".
Dalin nods his hooded head, and looks for such a place as they head down the long street in this part of the city.
And when they get closer to the regent's place, the spy Tanith quietly says "Further along" he continues with "Closer to the council building" the elven spy then adds "There's a taverna just around the corner of a street on this side".
"There is?" quietly asks the mage Reinholt who adds "I can't see one".
"I can hear it" says Dalin in a slightly dry tone "Figures" mutters the once powerful mage.
Then as they walk by the regent's place, which isn't walled like the palace grounds. But it does have an wrought iron fence that goes right around it.
The two of them fall silent as they go by the iron gates and the guards on duty there. Guards who are part of the regent's army.
The mage Reinholt reads their minds, as well as the mind of the house maid they've just let through the gates.
The exiled Vexilian mage doesn't find anything of interest when he reads their minds.
Just that the house maid, who is now hurrying across the front courtyard to what's essentially a mansion. Is worried about the noblewoman she serves.
Mira Reinholt and Dalinvardél Tanith continue on in silence as they make their way to the taverna where they can observe both the regent's place, as well as the council building next to it.
"My lady, my lady" says Lissa the house maid as she repeatedly knocks upon the door of her charge.
The young house maid, who is more than a little worried that her lady is not up and about, when it's already mid morning.
Has quickly returned to the regent's residence after completing an errand for the master of servants.
Lissa who hasn't seen her lady all morning, looks up and down the hallway, which thankfully remains empty.
Then she slips a key out from her bodice, a key that she had made up in the northeast of the city, where most of the smithy's and metal workers are located.
A copy of a key she shouldn't have. But nevertheless she does. And she puts into the lock, turns it, and opens the door.
She slips inside, locks the door behind her, and puts the key back in her bodice.
The young house maid looks around the suite. The curtains are open, allowing the autumn sun through the glass windows.
Lissa nods, as she knows that's a good sign. Then she makes her way across the main room of the suite.
Or living room as the nobility call it. She passes the parlour, and heads to the closed door at the other end.
Safe in the knowledge that she knows he's not here. She saw him entering the council building next door a little earlier.
So she softly knocks on the door a few times. And when no one replies. The young house maid opens the door and enters the bedroom.
Unlike the rest of the suite, here in the bedroom it's fairly dark as the curtains are still closed.
Lissa moves as quietly as she can as she approaches the bed in the large room.
She breathes a sign of relief when she sees a figure on the bed, which slightly moves as she gets closer.
"My lady" quietly says the young house maid, who moves away from the bed, and slightly opens one of the curtains to let in a bit of light.
Then when Lissa turns and looks at the figure on the bed, she gasps and puts a hand to her mouth, as tears form in her eyes.
"Who did this my lady?" asks the young house maid in a trembling voice, who knows exactly who did it. As he's done it before in the past.
"Why?" adds Lissa as she looks at the bruised and bloody face of her charge, the lady Mera of Dalmar.
The house maid clasps a hand of her lady, who opens a swollen eyelid, and tries to smile for her servant.
"He did" quietly says lady Mera with a raspy voice, the noblewoman from the duchy of Dalmar continues in her quiet raspy voice with "Because i bled".
Lissa slightly frowns, and her lady tells her "My menses came last night". The young house maid winces when she hears that.
"Don't you worry my lady" says Lissa who bustles over to the night stand where a basin of water is, and getting a soft cloth from a drawer, she brings it and the basin of water to the bed.
And as the young house maid dampens the soft cloth, and starts wiping the dried blood off the battered face of the lady Mera.
Lissa quietly says to her "Everything will be alright my lady" even though she knows it probably won't be.
With tears in her eyes, the young noblewoman who is the wife of lord Sammis, the regent of Oaklynn, says in raspy tone "What happens if i never get pregnant?" she gulps in fear as she adds "I don't want to end up like his other wives".
Lissa the house maid winces. For she has heard from the older members of the staff. That lord Sammis killed his first wife, strangled her right after she gave birth to a stillborn child.
Then he drowned his second wife after she miscarried for a third time.
As she continues to clean the bloody and bruised face of her charge the lady Mera, Lissa the house maid quietly says to her "We'll think of something my lady". What exactly, she has absolutely no idea . . . . . .

A Grand Design 9.

Mid Autumn. The Kingdom Of Girdane. The Duchy Of Dalmar. The Town Of Salme.

Tamric Drubine the field commander ducks beneath a laboured swing of a sword from one of duke Hilloc's soldiers, who is breathing heavily as he continues to attack the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
The duke's soldier who has staggered sideways in exhaustion, is met with the right boot of the young field commander, who hits the soldier in the face.
The head of duke Hilloc's man snaps back, before he topples slowly backwards to the ground. He's already unconscious before he hits the ground.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, looks away to his right.
There he sees another of the duke of Dalmar's men on the ground on his knees. With Lisell Maera the messenger standing infront of him.
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury. Grabs the dazed looking soldier by the back of his head. And rams her right knee into his face.
That soldier in duke Hilloc's army, folds backwards on his knees with his feet trapped beneath him.
He's unconscious too, though his face is bloody, and he definitely has a broken nose after being kneed in the face.
Lisell Maera or Lis, as more often than not she's called by the others in the group. Looks away to her left. And shares a look with Tamric Drubine.
Then the two of them step back and wait.
With mouth agape, duke Hilloc of Dalmar stands there stunned. As a dozen of his best soldiers are scattered across the training yard infront of the barracks behind the main keep of his castle.
They're lying there either unconscious, or groaning in pain barely able to move.
While the two teenagers, who just took on his men, and gave them a good thrashing. Stand there looking in his direction, waiting.
The duke of Dalmar looks at his fellow dukes, Korros of Girnath and Lombasil of Falosen. Along with his cousin, sir Passic the knight.
They're just as stunned as he is as they look at the aftermath of what's just happened.
Hilloc of Dalmar looks further away to the left infront of his barracks. To where his guard captain is standing with some of his, and the other dukes advisors.
They're all looking on in disbelief at what's just happened. As a dozen of his best soldiers, that he and his guard captain carefully picked. Have just taken the beating of their lives.
Duke Korros of Girnath breaks the silence by clearing his throat, before quietly saying "Hell, i wasn't expecting that".
Then the youngest of the three dukes whose duchies are in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane, murmurs to the duke of Dalmar "Hire them".
Beside him, Lombasil of Falosen nods in agreement. As does duke Hilloc's cousin, the knight, sir Passic.
"Hell" mutters duke Hilloc of Dalmar who like his fellow duke, Korros. As well as the others, was definitely not expecting that. When the two youngster, without weapons. And wearing just leather armour. Stepped onto the training yard to confront a dozen of his best soldiers.
The duke of Dalmar quickly thinks about it, then he quietly says to his fellow dukes and his older cousin "If we do this, we'll have to go ahead with what we've talked about for the last few years" he continues with "No use hiring them and their army if all we do is sit on our hands and not do what we've so often discussed".
The dukes of Girnath and Falosen know exactly what their fellow duke is talking about. Rebellion against the crown and the king of Girdane.
For though their advisors and allies such as sir Passic can offer their opinions. It's ultimately just the three of them who have to choose what to do.
"If we do it now, it'll be a war during the winter, which won't be ideal" quietly says duke Korros of Girnath "And like you said it will cost a lot to hire them" adds duke Lombasil of Falosen.
Hilloc of Dalmar nods to that, then he quietly says "If my suspicions are true, and the crown had something to do with the spread of the plague out here in the west. Then that's reason enough to hire them and go ahead with our plans".
Both dukes Korros and Lombasil know that duke Hilloc has more personal reasons to begin a revolt against the crown and king.
But they can't deny that the facts are tending towards the plague in their duchies in all likelihood, was introduced by outside forces. Which in Girdane means the crown.
The dukes of Girnath and Falosen share a look then nod, after which duke Korros says to Hilloc "Do it".
"Hire them" adds duke Lombasil, duke Hilloc nods then looks across to the otherside of the training yard, and calls out "Give us a few moments to discuss things!".
The plainsman he has dealt with over the last eighteen months, the illegal wrecker named Arvelle briefly confers with the elf in the white hooded cloak named Helbe.
After they do, Arvelle Ganard the plainsman calls out "Of course my lord, take all the time you need!".
The duke of Dalmar nods, then he looks at the two youngsters still standing out in the middle of the training yard, surrounded by his soldier who are either knocked out, or barely moving.
Duke Hilloc grimaces, then he looks away to his left at his guard captain and tells him "Get them into the barracks and get them some help" as he gestures towards his men scattered across the training yard.
As the guard captain does, and calls out for stretchers. And as duke Hilloc talks things over with his fellow dukes, Korros and Lombasil, as well as his cousin sir Passic.
Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera, turn and make their way back to stand with the rest of the group on the otherside of the training yard between the back of the main keep and the castle barracks.
"They're just discussing if they can pay us less than what we've discussed" quietly says Helbe the elven thief to Arvelle Ganard the plainsman.
"They've already made up their minds, and are going ahead with their rebellion, and they'll hire us" adds the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"Good" quietly says Arvelle Ganard the plainsman, who after looking at Tam and Lis and seeing that they're unharmed, quietly and dryly says to the elven magic user "All they'll be doing is paying us back those two chests of gold and silver we stole from those wreckers and gave to them".
The elven masterthief, who along with the tall plainsman with the shaved head, is speaking in elvish, nods his hooded head in agreement, then he quietly says "That'll be to start with" the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel continues with "They'll soon start paying us what those wreckers previously sent down here".
The elven master assassin faintly smiles as he quietly adds "Well, i should say, what you sent down here previously".
Arvelle the plainsman sourly smiles at that, then mutters "Smart ass" as he looks sideways at the elven princeling from Laerel.
Then the two of them, look to their right, where lord Farque has slightly moved after being completely still since they first got here.
"Get the contract in writing" quietly says lord Farque in the elven language, who follows that with "Once you do, we'll have to send word south as quickly as possible to bring one of the armies up here".
Both Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman nod to that, then the two of them, who are members of the personal council to lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Look across the training yard, to the front of the barracks building, to where duke Hilloc has just called out to them, and is beckoning them over.
The young elven noble, and the tall, plainsman with the shaved head who is not who he appears to be. Make their way across the training yard.
Going around the injured and unconscious soldiers, who are now being stretchered away into the barracks, that are located behind the main keep of the castle.
"We'd like to hire you" says duke Hilloc once Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman stand before him and his fellow dukes.
"Just not at that price" continues the duke of Dalmar as he looks at the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"What price do you suggest?" asks the elven magic user who already knows the answer, as he's read the mind of the duke as he walked across the training yard.
Duke Hilloc gives a figure per week, and the elven princeling slightly turns his head to one side, and with his naturally enhanced hearing, he hears lord Farque from the otherside of the training yard quietly say in the royal elven language "That's fine".
The undead warlord who can easily hear the conversation infront of the barracks on the otherside of the yard, quietly adds in the royal elven language "No less".
"Fine" says the elven master archer in the common language to the duke of Dalmar "We'll accept that price of hire" adds the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel.
Hilloc of Dalmar nods, then looks at the tall plainsman who he thinks is still an illegal wrecker, who plies his trade up on the Kaldel Plains, and asks him "Do you vouch for them Arvelle?".
"Like I've said previously my lord, they can be trusted" says the tall plainsman who in actuality is a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Arvelle Ganard.
"Very well" says duke Hilloc, who then looks at the elf he thinks is just the herald, or envoy for a mercenary army, and tells him "We've got a deal".
The elven princeling nods, then he and the duke of Dalmar shake on it, after the elven masterthief tells him he wants the contract for hire in writing, and the local nobleman agrees to it.
After the young elven noble along with the tall plainsman shake hands with the trio of dukes, whose duchies make up the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril says "Sorry about your men" as the last of the injured soldiers are helped into the barracks building.
"It can't be helped" says the duke of Dalmar, who continues with "We had to find out who we were hiring".
Then duke Hilloc gestures across to the otherside of the training yard, where the rest of the group are standing, and he asks the elf who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque "Are those two youngsters specially trained to fight like that?".
"Not particularly" lies Helbe the elven thief "Young Tam is an officer and has extra training compared to most of our soldiers" says the elven magic user, which is mostly true.
"But Lis is just a member of our scouts division" adds the elven master assassin, which is also mostly true, he continues with "And she hasn't had any specialty training" which is a lie.
"You could of fooled me" dryly murmurs duke Korros of Girnath, who then asks the elf in the white hooded cloak "Are all of your soldiers that good at fighting without weapons?".
"Some more, and some less" is the truthful reply of the young elven noble who is the third in line for the throne of Laerel, behind his mother, and older sister.
"Hell" murmurs duke Lombasil of Falosen, the dukes Hilloc and Korros nod in agreement with him.
Then Hilloc of Dalmar glances at his older cousin, sir Passic who has just quietly cleared his throat. The duke of Dalmar nods, giving his cousin the knight permission to speak.
"Over there" says sir Passic the knight to Helbe the elven thief, as he nods across to the otherside of the training yard "Is that an ork?" asks the lesser noble in the half plate armour.
"It is" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who follows that with "I'd advise you all, that you and your soldiers keep well away from him" the highly talented elven magic user continues with "Especially during battle" he then dryly adds "He has a tendency to not care who he kills".
Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman nods in agreement with the elven master assassin, as he's been killed at least a couple of times in the past by the large ork, who a lot of the time is pretty indiscriminate about who he kills during battle.
"We'll make sure to keep away from him then" quietly says Hilloc of Dalmar, who then asks the elf in the white hooded cloak "How long until your army gets here?".
"Not for at least a couple of weeks" is the honest reply of the elven princeling who continues on with "They should be here before the end of autumn".
Duke Hilloc who is calculating, and working things out in his mind, nods his head, and after glancing at his fellow dukes, and his cousin the knight, he quietly says in a satisfied tone of voice "Good".
The duke of Dalmar, who hopes the spread of the plague here in the three most western duchies of the kingdom has well and truly stopped by then.
Says to the elf in the white hooded cloak, and the tall plainsman with the shaved head "Might as well go and get my scribe and get this contract written up".
The duke of Dalmar, says to the two of them, along with his fellow dukes, as well as his cousin the knight "Come along then".
"You might as well head back to the inn" murmurs prince Helbenthril Raendril in the royal elven language "We'll be back a bit later with the contract" adds the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"Let's go" says lord Farque to the others after hearing what the elven magic user just murmured.
The undead warlord turns, and leads the way around the main keep of the castle, with the rest of the group following him.
While Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman cross the training yard with duke Hilloc and the others. Heading for the main keep of the duke's castle.
A little bit later, and in the chamber where duke Hilloc conducts business, the elven envoy sits upon a chair, which the tall plainsman stands beside.
"As we discussed, we'll take command when it comes to battle strategies" says the elven magic user "I understand" says the duke of Dalmar as he sits behind his large desk with his scribe who is busy writing the contract.
While off to one side of the chamber, along the wall there. The others, including the dukes of Girnath and Falosen, along with sir Passic and other advisors, are sitting on a few benches.
"Any word on the plague that's affected your duchies my lords?" asks the elven master assassin as he looks at duke Hilloc, then over at the dukes Korros and Lombasil.
"It's not spreading as it did at the start of autumn" says the duke of Dalmar, who glances over at the duke of Falosen, whose duchy has been affected the most by the plague. Who nods in agreement with what his fellow duke just said.
"Strange how it's not affected your neighbours directly to the east" muses the young elven noble, who after a slight pause adds "Most strange indeed".
Duke Hilloc just grunts at that, then points at the document his scribe is writing, and quietly tells him something.
The highly talented elven magic user after a few moments silence, then asks "And any word on the missing children and youngsters?".
Hilloc of Dalmar grimaces when he hears that, then he says through gritted teeth "Nothing".
The elven princeling from Laerel nods his hooded head, then he says "Once you've officially hired us, we'll help you find those who are missing".
The duke of the duchy of Dalmar looks up from what his scribe is writing, and looks at the elf sitting on the chair in the center of the chamber, and says to him "We'd appreciate that".
His fellow dukes, Korros of Girnath and Lombasil of Falosen nod their heads in agreement with that.
"It's the least we can do" says Helbe the elven thief, who along with the rest of the group find the missing children and youngsters in the three duchies affected by the plague, the oddest thing of all since they've been here in the kingdom of Girdane.
"There it's done" says duke Hilloc a little while later after he stands up with the document of hire in his hands.
Helbe the elven thief gets up and makes his way over to the desk. And takes the document and quickly reads it. Even though he knows exactly what's been written. As he was the one, by way of spellcraft, got the scribe to write what he wanted.
"It all seems to be order" says the elven master archer, who signs the document after duke Hilloc signs it, as well as his fellow dukes, Korros and Lombasil sign it. As well as the second copy the scribe has written.
Then after the duke's scribe rolls up the first, and pours a seal of hot wax on it. Which duke Hilloc then presses his signet ring into it as it cools.
The duke of Dalmar hands the document to the elf named Helbe, and says to him "You and your mercenary army are hired" . . . . . .

A Grand Design 8.

Mid Autumn. Salme. Dalmar. Girdane.

"They want what?" asks lord Farque "To see if we're worth hiring" replies Helbe the elven thief, Arvelle Ganard the plainsman nods in agreement with the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel. 
"I thought a ten thousand strong army worth hiring would be fucking enough" dryly says the undead warlord, who after a moment's pause adds "So what exactly does this entail?".
The elven masterthief and the tall, shaven headed plainsman who have just returned from duke Hilloc's castle share a look, then the elven magic user explains to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque what the duke of Dalmar wants to see.
After listening to the elven master assassin, the heavily armoured deathlord grunts, then Draugadrottin as he's also known by to his people, asks "When?".
"Tomorrow or the next day" says the young elven noble who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
"After the duke of Falosen gets here" says Arvelle Ganard the plainsman who along with Helbe the elven thief, has been negotiating with duke Hilloc, his advisors and allies.
"He's expected in town sometime over the next couple of days" adds the tall, shaven headed plainsman who is a former illegal wrecker.
The lord of the death realm nods his full helmed head, then looks out the window of his room here on the second floor of the Wayfarer inn.
Des'tier as he's known by to an older generation of elven kind who might know who he is, is silent for a little while.
Then he looks at the two who have just returned from the large castle that's sits on the hill in the north of the town of Salme.
"Might as well then" says lord Farque, who like the other two, is speaking in the elven language "If it'll get us hired, why not" adds the undead warlord.
The two others, both members of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque's personal council nod to that. Then Arvelle the plainsman asks "Who?" followed by "Dorc?".
"That wouldn't be a good idea" dryly says the deathlord of Farque, who continues in that same dry tone with "That big fat fuck will just kill everyone that's put up against him". Draugadrottin continues with "That goes for that idiot knight Percy too".
Both the elven masterthief and the former illegal wrecker nod in agreement to that, and do so again when the lord of the death realm says "If Shur Kee was here instead of in the capital, he'd be ideal to use".
Both the elven magic user from Laerel and the tall plainsman from the Kaldel Plains can see the logic of that.
As there's nothing more surprising than seeing a short, slight man like Shur Kee. Fighting with just his hands and feet. Beating up anyone and everyone, no matter how well armed and armoured they are.
"Me?" asks the young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
"No, better not" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who continues with "It wouldn't be much of a surprise to them, since you're an elf who they know has lifetimes of experience compared to them".
The heavily armoured deathlord who is sitting upon a large, not to mention heavy wooden chair, looks at the two standing in the middle of the room and says to them "We want to make a statement here" lord Farque then asks "How are Lis and Tam's unarmed fighting skills?".
"Over the last couple of years I've started teaching them open handed fighting" says prince Helbenthril Raendril referring to the unarmed combat style known to the elven nobility.
"Tam is okay" adds the elven masterthief who wiggles a hand from side to side "And Lis" says the highly talented elven magic user who just shrugs his shoulders.
"They'll do" says Draugadrottin who continues with "Tovis will just resort to his hammer, and Beldane the same with his mace" he then adds "Fighting unarmed isn't something they're accustomed to".
Both Helbe the elven thief and Arvelle the plainsman nod in agreement to that, then the undead being says "It's Tam and Lis then".
The deathlord of Farque after glancing out the open window again for a few moments, looks at the two standing in the middle of the room, and tells "Bring the others up here" he continues with "Might as well tell them what's happening".
Once the others come up to lord Farque's room and hear what's happening. And both Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic look a little disappointed that they weren't picked.
And Tovis the war engineer and Beldane the cleric, look relieved that they weren't picked.
The two who were picked, Tamric Drubine the field commander, and Lisell Maera the messenger share a look.
With the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin sourly smiling. And the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury nodding in agreement with me.
As neither one of them is particularly looking forward to what's been asked of them.
But since they've been ordered to by lord Farque, they have to do it, whether they like it or not.
It's the next day, just before midday. When a messenger from duke Hilloc's castle comes down to the Wayfarer inn, telling them that they're requested at the castle.
The entire group here in the town of Salme leave the inn they've been staying at while here in town. And make their way up to the castle of the duke of Dalmar.
In a training yard next to the barracks, behind the main keep of the castle.
Duke Lombasil of Falosen who arrived first thing this morning, asks "Why exactly are you doing this?".
"To see if they're worth hiring" replies duke Hilloc of Dalmar, who continues with "Korros thought of it" as he nods to duke Korros of Girnath who grins.
The three dukes of the western most duchies in the kingdom of Girdane, are standing infront of the barracks, where they're waiting for those who want to be hired by duke Hilloc to arrive.
Standing nearby are some of duke Hilloc's best soldiers, along with some of the lesser nobles in the three western most duchies of the kingdom.
"So how large of an army exactly do they have?" asks duke Lombasil who is a tall, slim man of a similar age to duke Hilloc.
"Ten thousand or so" is the quiet reply of the duke of Dalmar "Hell" mutters the duke of Falosen, whose duchy has been affected the most by the plague that's hit the very west of the kingdom.
"That would definitely make a difference" quietly adds duke Lombasil referring to the potential rebellion here in the very west of Girdane against the crown.
The other two dukes nod in agreement as they continue to wait for those who might be hired to show up.
As they wait, another of the nobles standing nearby, makes his way over to the three of them.
He's a man a bit older than the dukes Hilloc and Lombasil, in his mid forties. Who looks at duke Korros, and shakes his head before saying in a dry tone "Bloody hell, they'll let anyone be a duke nowadays".
The three dukes grin, especially the duke of Girnath who that verbal barb was directed at.
"Look, even my no good useless squire is one nowadays" says the nobleman, which causes the trio of dukes to chuckle, especially duke Korros of Girnath.
"Well, that's what happens when my father had me squire to a useless knight who doesn't know one end of the sword from the other" says the duke of Girnath who continues with "I end up being a duke".
The nobleman, who is in half plate armour laughs, then he looks at duke Hilloc and says "Cousin, you need to get your muck collector in" he hikes a thumb at duke Korros as he adds "To get this pile of crap out of your castle".
The trio of dukes burst into laughter, and duke Korros doubles over laughing when the nobleman in the half plate armour dryly adds "And to think i had him squire for me for two years" followed in an even dryer tone with "Worst two bloody years of my life".
By now duke Korros of Girnath is crying as he laughs. And the dukes Hilloc and Lombasil aren't that far off from crying as they laugh too.
Eventually the duke of Dalmar gets himself under control, and says to the nobleman who is his cousin "Now Passic, you can't go around saying that about a duke of the realm".
"Yes i can, especially one who was my idiot squire" says sir Passic, who is a lesser lord of Dalmar, older cousin of the duke of Dalmar, who had Korros before he was duke of Girnath, as his squire.
Passic, who happens to be a knight, and considered to be the best swordsman in the west of the kingdom.
Just shakes his head as duke Korros, who has finally got himself under control, and got his breath back. Bursts into laughter again at what the older nobleman just said.
Then sir Passic the knight grins as he looks at his former squire, who though short, has styled his own armour upon what the knight wears.
So much so, that the heavy iron armour that the youngest of the three dukes wears. Looks very similar to that worn by his former mentor and teacher sir Passic.
Duke Hilloc's cousin, claps forearms with his former squire, who asks him "When did you get in?".
"Last night" is the reply from sir Passic the knight, who also happens to be one of his cousin's closest advisors.
The older cousin of the duke of Dalmar who has been out and about in the duchy over the last couple of weeks. Checking on the fight against the spread of the plague here in Dalmar.
And reported to his cousin last night. That in the last week. No new village or farmstead has been hit by the plague here in Dalmar. The first time that's happened since the plague first appeared at the end of summer, the start of autumn.
"So i understand it was your idea to find out about these mercenaries, and if they're any good" says sir Passic looking at his former squire, who is now the duke of Girnath.
"It is" says Korros of Girnath "Well, seems not all of your ideas are daft" dryly says the knight of the realm.
"Don't start again" says duke Korros, who can feel himself about to crack up again "It wouldn't be a good look if I'm standing here laughing my head off crying, when these mercenaries turn up" adds the youngest of the trio of dukes here in the very west of the kingdom.
Sir Passic nods and says "That's true" he continues with "Besides, they'll probably burst out laughing when they see that ugly face of yours" the knight in the half plate armour pauses before continuing with "My lord" he briefly pauses again, before adding in a sour tone "I can't believe i have to call you that nowadays".
Duke Korros who has started chuckling again even though he's tried not to, bursts into another bout of laughter at what the knight just said.
The other two dukes, are laughing once more as well. While sir Passic looks at his former squire, and shakes his head, then grins.
The three dukes only stop laughing when one of the castle guards comes hurrying around the main keep, and runs across the training yard to the front of the barracks, to inform duke Hilloc that the mercenaries are here in the castle.
Just short while later, the group of mercenaries are escorted around to the training yard infront of the barracks by a squad of duke Hilloc's soldiers.
"What the hell is that?" quietly asks duke Hilloc of Dalmar in tone of surprise, the same time that duke Korros of Girnath says "Look how damn big that thing is" and duke Lombasil of Falosen says "Is that a troll?" followed by "It doesn't look like any troll I've seen before".
The dukes of the three western most duchies in the kingdom of Girdane look at sir Passic who quietly says in tone of caution "That's an ork".
"Are you sure cousin?" asks the duke of Dalmar after a moment of shocked silence.
The knight of the realm nods his head, then quietly says "I saw one at a distance during the battle of Vexil" sir Passic, the only one here who fought during the battle of Vexil more than eighteen years ago, continues with "I'll never forget that".
He looks at his younger cousin, the duke of Dalmar and quietly tells him "Best be careful Hilloc" followed by "That thing could easily kill everyone you put up against it, then us afterwards if you annoy it".
Hilloc of Dalmar slightly nods, then murmurs to his fellow dukes Korros and Lombasil, as well as his cousin Passic "Let's hope they don't use it" as they look at the group lined up on the otherside of the training yard.
Turns out they don't, as after duke Hilloc and his guard captain make their way out onto the training yard.
And confer with Arvelle the plainsman and the elf named Helbe who they've been negotiating with over the last few weeks.
It's the two mercenaries they least expect amongst the group to step forward, to prove they're worth hiring.
A young man, clearly a teenager. Fairly tall, nearly six foot in height. Who takes off his half plate armour, and weapons. And only in leather armour, he makes his way out onto the training yard.
He's joined by an athletic looking, attractive young woman, who is under twenty years of age as well. And is also in leather armour. Who walks out to the middle of the yard to stand next to her fellow mercenary, without any weapons too.
Duke Hilloc of Dalmar says to the plainsman Arvelle, and the elf named Helbe "They're unarmed".
"Of course" replies Helbe the elven thief, who continues with "You want to see how good we are don't you?" he gestures at Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera then tells the duke of Dalmar "They're the two youngest members of our group, and they'll go up against anyone you like, and they won't use a single weapon".
Hilloc of Dalmar lifts a questioning eyebrow as he glances at his guard captain, who shrugs his shoulders in reply.
"Very well" says duke Hilloc to the two who he's been negotiating with of late, then the duke of Dalmar and his guard captain make their way back to infront of the barracks.
Once there, Hilloc of Dalmar quietly says to his guard captain "Send our men in one at a time at first" followed by "If these youngsters can hold them off, then send more in".
"Yes my lord" quietly says the guard captain, who then makes his way over to the group of soldiers who have picked by him and the duke to test how good the mercenaries are.
"Those two don't have any weapons" quietly says duke Korros of Falosen "They'll be cut down quickly" adds duke Lombasil of Girnath.
"I know" quietly says duke Hilloc, while next to him his cousin sir Passic isn't so sure as he looks at the other mercenaries standing on the otherside of the training yard infront of the castle barracks.
Then duke Hilloc of Dalmar turns to their left, and calls out to his guard captain "Begin!" . . . . . .

A Grand Design 7.

Mid Autumn. The Town Of Salme. The Duchy Of Dalmar. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

"I don't like this, i don't like this one bit i tell you Hilloc" says duke Korros of Girnath as they make their way along the battlements of the inner wall of duke Hilloc's castle, looking out and down at the surrounding town of Salme.
They stop beside the top of a guard tower, and the duke of Girnath, the duchy that lies further to the north and west of Dalmar, then says "Now that word has reached us that the king is sending some of his army out here to the west" Korros then dryly adds "To help stop the spread of the plague".
Duke Hilloc of Dalmar grunts at the mention of that, then the younger man from the duchy of Girnath says "Added to that, Lombasil isn't here yet".
"He'll be here in the next day or two" says duke Hilloc referring to the duke of Falosen, the duchy that's furthest north of the three most western duchies in the kingdom of Girdane.
"Remember he has to travel further than you" says the duke of Dalmar who is the older, and larger of the two noblemen upon the battlements.
"And word is he's had particularly more trouble with the plague up there than the two of us" adds duke Hilloc, whose family has ruled the duchy of Girnath for more than five centuries. Longer than any other family has ruled any other duchy in the kingdom of Girdane.
Duke Korros of Girnath grunts, then sighs and says in sympathy for their fellow duke "Poor bastard".
Duke Hilloc nods in agreement, then looking down at the shorter man, who is a dozen years younger than himself, who at times can act impulsively and on the spur of the moment, he says to him "Has the plague spread much further through your lands?".
Slightly frowning as he thinks about it, duke Korros says "Not too much" the duke of Girnath continues with "Certainly not as much as when it first hit".
"Same as here in Dalmar" says duke Hilloc a man over six foot tall who is in his mid thirties, who continues with "I think the cooler weather has something to do with that" he then adds "My advisors agree, the colder weather has stopped it spreading so quickly compared to when it first hit at the start of the autumn".
"Makes sense" quietly says duke Korros, who a short man at only a few inches over five foot, and in his early twenties who was recently married during the summer that's just gone.
"Though what doesn't make sense is all the missing children and young folk" quietly adds the duke of Girnath, the duke of Dalmar grimaces, and just nods to that. As he like his fellow duke, and their advisors, don't know what to make of all the missing children and youngsters from the rual communities in their lands.
When the plague first hit at the end of summer, the start of autumn, here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
Duke Hilloc at first wasn't too worried. As the plague and pestilence often breaks out in the smaller villages during that time of the year.
He remembers as a child when one summer here in Dalmar, a plague wiped out scores, if not hundreds of people in many of the villages and farmsteads throughout the duchy.
That was the worst one he'd ever experienced, until this plague that hit not just the duchy of Dalmar, but also the duchies of Girnath and Falosen.
The three most western duchies in all of Girdane. Which coincidentally, are the three duchies where rebellion has been brewing against the crown for more than a little while.
Duke Hilloc of Dalmar doesn't believe in coincidences. And has come to the belief that the crown, and the king has had something to do with the plague that's hit the three most western duchies in the kingdom, and no where else.
By bringing in someone or some people who were already infected with the plague. Or by some other means. Duke Hilloc isn't entirely sure.
But now, he's pretty sure that the crown had something to do with it's spread here in the west of the kingdom.
And now they have a perfect excuse to bring their army out west. Under the premise to help stop the spread of the plague. In the three duchies where rebellion has been brewing for a while.
"I can believe the king and his cronies might of had the plague spread throughout our lands" quietly says duke Korros of Girnath as his fellow duke has mentioned his thoughts about that to him.
Then as he looks out over the rest of the castle, and the large town of Salme, which is effectively the center of the rebellion here in the very west of the kingdom he adds "But what i can't believe is that they've taken our children and youngsters away".
Duke Korros who likes to wear heavy iron plate armour, even though he's a short, and not particularly hefty looking man, then says "For what reason? To protect them from the plague?".
"Who knows?" quietly says duke Hilloc, who has thought over and over about the many reasons why the children and youngsters from the villages and farmsteads affected by the plague have gone missing.
As yet, he along with his advisors, and allies like Korros, haven't come up with any plausible reason why those children and young folk are missing.
The duke of Dalmar looks down to the outer bailey, and spots who has just entered through the main gates of his castle. Duke Hilloc grunts, and his fellow duke asks him "What is it?".
"Persistent bugger" mutters the older of the two noblemen "Who?" asks the duke of Girnath "Down there, the plainsman with the shaved head" is the reply of the duke of Dalmar.
The younger of the two noblemen looks down into outer bailey, and spots the tall plainsman in question. With him is another tall individual, this one in a white hooded cloak.
Behind them is a horse drawn cart surrounded by some of the duke of Dalmar's soldiers.
The duke of Girnath sees that there's a rather large locked chest. Which looks to him like it's a locker chest from an airship of all things. Which is in the back of the horse drawn cart.
"Is that your ah" says duke Korros who after a brief pause adds "Associate" before continuing on with "From up on the Kaldel Plains?".
"That's him" says duke Hollis, duke Korros nods but remains silent on the matter, as he knows his fellow duke and the plainsman below have a deal, that has helped to fund the rebellion that has begun out here in the very west of the kingdom.
A rebellion, that begun with the rumoured tax increase from the capital that became a reality a couple of years ago. But a rebellion that duke Korros knows has turned personal for his fellow nobleman, duke Hilloc of Dalmar.
As the duke of Dalmar became the brother inlaw of lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn eighteen months ago. Not that he wanted to, or had any idea he was going to.
As Hilloc's younger sister the lady Mera, was by all intensive purposes, forced into marrying the regent of the capital Oaklynn.
Lady Mera who duke Hilloc hasn't seen since she left to travel to the capital city Oakland, a little over eighteen months ago.
Korros of Girnath is more than sympathetic to his fellow duke. As he's of a similar age as the lady Mera, and grew up with her when he was squired here in Salme to one of Hilloc's cousins.
And if circumstances were different, and if there was any political advantage to both sides, it would of been he who would of married the lady Mera.
But alas that didn't happen. As she was forced into marriage with a man nearly twenty years her senior who has already had two wives. Both of whom died in suspicious circumstances.
And he, Korros married in the recent summer. To a noblewoman from the south of the kingdom, that his mother the dowager lady of Girnath, thought would be a good match for him, both politically and romantically.
"Suppose i better go down and speak to him" says duke Hilloc who continues with "If i don't, he and his cohort will annoy everyone in my court for the rest of day".
The duke of Girnath nods, and as they make their way along the battlements, heading to the nearest set of steps that lead down, Korros of Girnath asks his fellow duke "What do they want outside of the, ah particular arrangement you have?".
The duke of Girnath knows of duke Hilloc's deal with the plainsman, who apparently leads a crew of illegal wreckers up on the Kaldel Plains. Who bring down airships illegally, then strip them, and sell everything of value for a profit. And that duke Hilloc who helped to set up and originally fund the plainsman when he first started, takes a cut of the illegal wreckers profit.
And that cut he takes, has helped fund the burgeoning rebellion here in the very west of the kingdom of Girdane against the crown.
"They want me to hire a foreign army of mercenaries in our fight against the king" quietly says duke Hilloc as the two of them make their way down the steps.
"I was against the idea at first, as were all of my advisors, but I'm open to it now" quietly adds the duke of Dalmar, who continues with "Especially with the king about to send some of his army out our way".
"Good idea, maybe you should" quietly says duke Korros as they get down into the inner bailey, then as they make their way across to the main keep of the castle that sits upon a hill that dominates the town of Salme, the younger of the two noblemen asks his fellow duke "How much do they want?".
"A bloody fortune" mutters the duke of Dalmar, who then tells the younger and shorter nobleman, exactly how much they want to be paid a week.
Duke Korros winces when he hears how much, then the duke of Girnath wryly says "That is rather a lot".
Then Korros of Girnath glances up at the taller man walking beside him, and says "They might be worth it" duke Korros then asks "How good are they?".
Duke Hilloc blinks in surprise as he along with his advisors had never thought to think about that.
"You know what" says the duke of Dalmar, who continues with "I have no idea".
"Maybe you should" quietly says the younger of the two noblemen, who follows that with "Who knows, they might actually be worth that much".
Duke Hilloc nods, and does so again when the younger and shorter duke says "We need all the help that we can get".
As they both know that their potential rebellion is badly outnumbered by forces that the king of Girdane can bring down upon them.
Off to the side of the main chamber of attendance in the main keep of the castle where duke Hilloc's court is held.
In a side chamber, the two dukes look down at the open chest, and Korros of Girnath murmurs "Hell" as he sees how much gold and silver coins are in it.
He knew Hilloc was receiving funds from the Kaldel Plains, he just didn't know how much.
Then the young duke of Girnath realises that their potential rebellion wouldn't even be off the ground if it wasn't for the payments the duke of Girnath was getting from the tall plainsman with the shaved head who leads the crew of illegal wreckers up on the Kaldel Plains.
As the last tax increase imposed upon just the duchies in the very west of the kingdom. Supposedly to fall in line with the rate of tax paid by the nobility in the rest of the kingdom.
Has severely hampered any additional costs the dukes of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen have incurred.
Such as the build up of a potential revolt against the crown and king of Girdane.
Duke Korros looks at his fellow duke beside him, then he looks at the two men seated in the middle of the side chamber.
As he looks at them, the duke of Girnath realises that only one of them is a man. The tall plainsman with the shaved head.
While the other one, the one in the white hooded cloak, whose face Korros can't see all that clearly as the front of the hood of his cloak is down almost to his eyes. Is definitely an elf.
Then after a glance at his fellow duke again, the duke of Girnath makes his way over to one side of the chamber off the main chamber where duke Hilloc holds court.
And takes a seat on one of the benches there, where some of his and the duke of Dalmar's advisors are sitting.
"How much this time?" asks duke Hilloc after looking down at latest payment to come from the Kaldel Plains.
The duke of Dalmar slightly nods when the tall plainsman named Arvelle who leads a crew of illegal wreckers up on the Kaldel Plains, tells him how much is in the large open chest.
Hell, that's a lot, duke Hilloc thinks to himself, then looking at the two on the chairs in the middle of the chamber, the duke of Dalmar says "You've been here a few weeks now, whose running things up on the plains?".
"You remember my offsider Mac?" says Arvelle Ganard the plainsman "The dwarven fellow" says duke Hilloc, who continues with "I remember him".
"He's got things in hand" says the leader of the crew of illegal wreckers, who are based in the very northeast of the Kaldel Plains, nearly two thousand miles north of the border with the kingdom of Girdane.
"And when i left, we had a trio of ships still to strip, that will take a bit of time" adds the tall plainsman named Arvelle.
Three! duke Hilloc thinks to himself, the nobleman whose family has ruled the duchy of Dalmar for more than five centuries then silently adds, hell, no wonder this latest payment is so large.
Duke Hilloc nods, then steps back from the open chest, and leans against the table behind him, as he looks at the two sitting in the middle of the chamber.
Then the duke of Dalmar glances over to the side of the chamber, where some of his and the duke of Girnath's advisors are sitting.
He looks at his fellow duke, and remembering what Korros mentioned a little earlier outside.
Duke Hilloc looks back at the two sitting on the chairs in the middle of the chamber, and says to Arvelle the plainsman "About the other thing we've been discussing since you arrived in town" he then adds "I'm willing to discuss the terms of hire".
The duke of Dalmar momentarily pauses before continuing with "Though there are some conditions though".
"Such as what lord Hilloc?" asks the tall plainsman named Arvelle "Such as how good exactly are these foreign mercenaries?" he continues with "I'd like to know what I'm exactly paying for".
The leader of the crew of illegal wreckers up on the Kaldel Plains nods to the elven fellow sitting beside him, and says "Some of their officers are here in town with me" Arvelle the plainsman continues with "I'm sure we can arrange something so that you can see what you'll be paying for".
After a moment as he thinks about it, duke Hilloc of Dalmar nods, then says "We'll do that then" . . . . . .

A Grand Design 6.

Mid Autumn. The City Of Oaklynn. The Kingdom Of Girdane.

"This doesn't make sense" Mira Reinholt the mage mutters to himself as he watches the activity in a nearby army barracks here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
The once powerful mage who is upon a rooftop of a building down the street from the army barracks, frowns as he watches the loading of wagons on the marshalling yard in the grounds of the barracks.
All types of supplies are being loaded up, but particularly medicinal supplies. From crates of tinctures to piles of cloth bandages and wrappings.
More than what he would expect to go out with the rumoured amount of soldiers who are soon to leave the city of Oaklynn, to travel to the very west of the kingdom. Under the premise to help with the plague that's broken out in that part of Girdane.
The mage from the city-state of Vexil, who is in exile from his homeland. Spots an officer talking to some of the soldiers loading the wagons.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster reads the mind of the officer. Safe in the knowledge that he can't be sensed by other spellcasters due to the amulet he wears on a chain around his neck.
The mage Reinholt grunts after reading the officer's mind, as all the man knows is that he'll be leaving soon to help stop the spread of the plague in the west of the kingdom, particularly in the duchy of Girnath.
The highly skilled swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil isn't all that surprised at that. As he figures only those of importance will know what's exactly going to happen while they're out in the west of the kingdom.
It's just that the mage who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, has yet to find someone that important and read their mind.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands. Who was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void that he accidentally cast.
Looks up at the morning sky, as a high cloud passes infront of the sun, on what's a fine but cool autumn day here in the east of the kingdom of Girdane, and the city of Oaklynn.
Mira Reinholt looks back to the nearby army barracks, and continues to watch the build up there, as some of the king's army prepares to leave for the west of the kingdom, which has been affected by the plague.
Then the Vexilian mage in exile turns, and makes his way along the roof, to where some steps lead down to another level of the roof.
Once he's down there, councillor Reinholt makes his way to the edge of the roof. And after looking around, he steps off the roof, and levitates down into the alleyway.
Once he's on the ground, the mage Reinholt puts a gloved hand in an inner pocket of his cloak, and drains some of the power from a spell gem he takes hold of.
Then the highly skilled swordmaster starts making his way back to the Iron Monger inn, where he along with Shur Kee the monk and Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy are staying in while they're here in the city of Oaklynn.
On the corner of a large square in the south of the city, that has a number of temples, churches and houses of worship around it.
Shur Kee the monk who is near a scattering of street side stalls, frowns as he looks towards a temple of a particular god. Which one, he's not too sure. As the gods have different names here in the Southlands than they do back in his homeland of Wah Lee, a kingdom located on the far eastern coast of the continent, which is nearly ten thousand miles away.
And even in the fifteen or so years that he's been here in the Southlands. The short, statured monk has never learnt all the Southlander names for the various gods.
But what he sees at the moment, are a few of the sisters from that temple, speaking with some officers in the king's army.
And after watching them for a moment, the acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li.
Looks along the otherside of the square, where on the grounds of a church, he sees priests and clerics, speaking with a couple of army officers.
While novices, and clerics in training are loading up a few wagons of supplies and equipment. And from what Shur Kee sees being put into the back of the wagons.
The supplies look to be healing in nature. And the equipment is obviously for field surgery.
The physical adept, wearing odd looking white clothing, and an even odder looking conical shaped hat. Frowns as he thought the army would already have all this kind of supplies and equipment for a campaign against the duchies in the very west of the kingdom. Where rebellion has been brewing for at least the last eighteen months.
The short, statured monk who is an honorary member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Starts making his way along this side of the square, to see what else he finds before he heads back to the Iron Monger inn, where he along with Mira Reinholt the mage and Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy are staying whilst here in the city of Oaklynn.
In a rather expensive taverna not far from the palace, the elven spy Dalinvardél Tanith is sitting at a corner table with a court official who is getting drunk even though it's only late in the morning.
The spy Tanith who has been currying favour with the court official for the last few days. Waves over the serving maid, who brings over another bottle of wine.
"Why thank you" says the court official, a fellow by the name of Larn, a member of a very minor noble family from here in the east of the kingdom.
Who as the youngest of four sons, had no future on his family's lands. Or prospects of an advantageous marriage. So he was sent to the capital by his parents to see what he could make of himself.
And though they held out no hope for him. And he thought he'd end up working for a trading company or a merchant. Lo and behold, he was able to get a place at the king's court.
Admittedly it's a very lowly position. But it's still a position in the palace of the king of Girdane.
Which was a surprise to his parents, brothers, and everyone else who knows him. For though he's a young man, he's been a notorious drinker since he was a young teen.
"That's what I've heard" says Larn the court official as they continue the conversation after the serving woman leaves the latest bottle on the table after taking another empty one away.
"That doesn't make sense" murmurs Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy in his native language "What was that fellow?" says Larn who though thoroughly drunk is rather perceptive, and he adds "I don't know elvish, be a good fellow and speak common".
The elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, who now plies his trade for the armies of Farque, says in the common language "I was just wondering why that is?".
The young and very drunk court official shrugs his shoulders, then says "Who knows" followed by "They're the army and they do whatever the king tells them to do".
Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, nods his head, then says "I guess so".
The elven spy who is passing himself off as a merchant visiting from his homeland of Alínlae, then says "I suppose your king hasn't got any contracts for his army has he?" Dalin continues with "Supplies and the like?".
"Ha!" says Larn the drunk court official, who continues with "You'll have to take that up with the chamberlain's office" he then adds "Or the army quartermaster's office".
"It was worth a try" says the spy Tanith in a slightly dry tone of voice, the young court official from the palace snorts, and says "That it was" before he takes a big gulp of wine from his goblet.
After the elven spy originally from Alínlae tops up Larn' goblet, the drunk court official tells him "You could try lord Sammis" he continues with "The city's regent" Larn then adds "He and his council will pretty much take any contract, if you know what i mean".
"Oh?" says Dalinvardél Tanith, the court official nods, and after looking around at the other customers in the taverna, he leans towards the elven spy, and in conspiratorial tone he says "Word is they take more than their fair share from the various trade deals done directly with the city".
Now isn't that interesting, the spy originally from the principality of Alínlae thinks to himself, then the spy Tanith leans in closer to Larn when the young drunk beckons him closer.
"Word in the palace is that the king and his cousin the regent are in disagreement about something" says the young court official in a drunken whisper, Larn continues with "What it is, no one's exactly sure".
The court official after turning his head to burp, then to murmur "S'cuse me" he whispers to Dalin "What is known, is that the king hasn't been happy with his cousin the city regent, since lord Sammis went and got himself married again, about eighteen months ago to a young noblewoman from out west in the kingdom, a lady Mera".
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae nods his head when he hears this, as he's heard that rumour before, and it's nice to finally have it confirmed.
Larn continues on in a drunken whisper, with "In the palace those of a unscrupulous nature, not me of course, are placing bets on how long this wife will last, as the regent's previous wives have met with untimely deaths so to speak".
"I thought his first wife died in childbirth, and his second in a drowning accident?" quietly asks the spy Tanith who knows the young court official likes to gossip when he's had a bottle or three.
"So they say" whispers a drunken Larn with a shake of his head, he follows that with "But who knows what goes on under his roof over at the regent's mansion" the young court official continues with "And who the hell goes boating on the Tambir?" then he adds "The ladies of the court go boating on the ponds just outside the city, not the Tambir fucking river".
Dalin nods, and Larn murmurs "Pardon my language" then after he hiccups, the court official from the palace says "So that's why we are, i mean others are placing bets on how long she'll last" he shakes his head before adding in a tone of disappointment "I didn't think she'd last a year and half, but she has".
The spy Tanith continues to listen to the drunken court official, until he's finished another bottle off. And his head falls forward onto the table and he's asleep.
Dalinvardél Tanith leaves the taverna, and outside on the street, he looks towards the nearby palace. And wonders what other intrigues and plots are going on in there.
Then he turns to the right, and starts making his way to the north through the city, back to the Iron Monger inn, where he along with Mira Reinholt the mage, and Shur Kee the monk are staying at, while they're here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
Near the northeast quarter of the city, the mage Reinholt is standing on one side of the street. Looking at a large square shaped building, on the otherside of the street, at the other end.
It's where the spy Tanith comes across him, and finds the Vexilian mage in exile slightly grinning as he looks towards the large building, that stands by itself on the otherside of the street, at the very end.
Dalinvardél Tanith turns, and spots Shur Kee the monk walking this way, and as the short, statured monk heads in this direction, the elven spy nods his hooded head towards the building the mage Reinholt is looking at, and quietly asks him "What is it?".
"A counting house" is the quiet reply of the Vexilian mage in exile, and as Shur Kee comes to a stop beside them, the once powerful mage adds "Well, it was a counting house".
"Oh, what happened?" asks Dalin who can guess what happened, and is correct when the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster says "Me, Farque and Dorc ripped it off quite a few years ago".
"How much?" asks the spy Tanith who has heard how lord Farque, Dorc da Orc and Mira Reinholt robbed various counting houses across the Southlands more than fifteen years ago. When it was just the three of them travelling together.
"All their letters of credit, and two wagons full of gold, silver and platinum" quietly says the once powerful mage.
"No wonder they're no longer in business" dryly says the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae, as that's enough to by a dukedom here in Girdane, or any kingdom for that matter.
The mage Reinholt flashes a grin, then nods his head for them to make their way to the Iron Monger inn.
After they turn, and start walking back to the inn they're staying at, Mira Reinholt quietly tells the other two "Something's going on" the exiled Vexilian mage who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque continues with "All is not what it seems with this expedition out to the west, how they're going to attack the duchies out there under the premise of trying to stop the plague".
The mage Reinholt is silent for a few moments as they cross the street, then turn a corner, then he adds "I think the king's army is going out there to actually do something about that plague, and not stop the rebellion that may or may not happen".
"I agree friend Mira" says Shur Kee the monk "So do i" adds Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy.
Mira Reinholt the mage nods his hooded head, then he loudly mutters "So what the hell is actually going on?" . . . . . .