Mercenary Tales 14.

The City State Of Vexil. 

Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy walks through the camp like he belongs there. The elven spy originally from the principality of Alínlae, fits in perfectly. As it's a camp made up of mercenary companies. He's seen a number of races here. Predominantly human, as it is throughout the Southlands. But he's seen a number of dwarves. As well a small company of trolls. He's even seen a number of elves here and there. Who he avoids at all costs. 

And there's even goblins. Though they're not fighters. They're mainly porters and the like. Helping out around the camp. Though goblins being goblins. They're just as likely to cause a mess, than actually get any work done. 

The spy Tanith, who is a commander in the Armies of Farque. Nods his hooded head every now and then, acknowledging those who seem to be company captains. 

Due to the cut of his clothes and cloak, Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. 

Looks like he's a fairly prosperous mercenary, which to be fair, he basically is. As he like every member of the group, is fairly wealthy. Though some more than others. 

The elven spy if stopped, will pass himself off as a well to do mercenary captain, whose company has arrived recently. 

And from what Dalin has already seen this morning, that won't be difficult to pull off. As he's seen a company that arrived as he entered camp. 

Not to mention the company of mercenaries who were on board the twin masted brigantine that arrived just before dawn. 

Not only that, the spy Tanith is pretty sure the most incompetent of spies could go through this camp without a care in the world. As discipline isn't exactly being carried out here. 

As he's seen a couple of scuffles already, and it's still fairly early in the morning, on what's a cold start to the winter season. 

The elven spy, who before joining the group, and serving in the Armies of Farque. Served in one of the more prominent noble houses of his homeland of Alínlae. 

Has also seen that any kind of watch is fairly lax here as well. As he didn't encounter any patrols as he approached, then entered the camp. 

The only patrol he's seen so far, just left a little while ago, and though mounted, those dozen or so riders weren't in any particular hurry. 

Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy hears something as he makes his way between a couple of rows of tents. 

Though calling them rows is being generous. They might be in lines, those lines aren't particularly straight. And more than a few of the tents are bunched up together in groups every so often. 

The spy Tanith who is heading uphill, towards the village, suddenly stops as he recognizes the sound he's hearing. 

"Fucking hell" Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy mutters to himself, who then silently adds, how did they get them?

The commander in the Armies of Farque stops and looks between some of the tents off to his right. 

The spy Tanith quickly looks down at the ground after he sees what's a bit further away. Then realizing that others in the direction he's looking at, are going about their morning routine without a worry, he looks back up. 

Not that far away, beyond some more tents to the right, is a pen. At least a couple hundred feet in length, and even more, widthwise. 

Inside, are large birds. Well, they look like birds, in fact they slightly resemble disheveled looking chickens. 

Though they're nearly ten foot tall to the crown, and their strong looking legs are almost big cat like, that end with what's basically claws of a bird of prey. The large avians are cockatrices. They may resemble birds, but they're far from birds as you could imagine. 

Dalin who briefly averted his eyes when he saw them, because the stare of a cockatrice is paralyzing. Able to hold a person dead still if they look at the eyes of a cockatrice. 

Something rather untoward on a battlefield. As you can be easily killed as you stand there paralyzed with fear. 

But the spy Tanith has noticed that the magical creatures have blinders on at the moment. Though that's probably the only reason they're in a camp, and not elsewhere. 

The elven spy sees that they're attended by mercenaries, whose company seem to be about the only ones with any discipline. 

At least from what Dalinvardèl Tanith can quickly see before he moves along from where he's briefly stopped. 

The commander in the Armies of Farque continues on his way, heading up to the village that the Geist Trading Company and their mercenary army have taken over. Here in the hill country of northern Vexil. 

Lisell Maera the scout, who is on the north side of the camp. Has made her way to the edge of the village. As the ground is fairly flat here, compared to the east side of the village, that the spy Tanith is approaching it from. 

The attractive young woman who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, spots a wagon nearby. 

That's stopped beside a large tent, behind some of the houses at this end of the village. The scout Maera briefly winces when she sees what's being lifted out of the wagon bed, and stacked between the large tent, and one of the houses 

"Fucking hell" Lisell Maera the scout mutters to herself as she walks by the wagon and large tent. 

I hope to fuck they don't drop any of those, the scout in the Armies of Farque thinks to herself as she looks sideways at the coffin like boxes that are being stacked up. 

Lisell Maera or Lis as more often than not, she's called by those who know her well, hurries up as she walks by. 

She knows there's no real harm in them. Unless someone accidentally drops one. Even then nothing untowards will happen. 

Though all hell will break loose, literally. Only if Lord Farque does something. And if he does, the scout Maera hopes to hell she's no where in the vicinity. 

Lis who like Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy hasn't been stopped in anyway. Has like the elven spy, seen how things are rather lax here in both the camp, and the village it surrounds. 

Though the scout in the Armies of Farque has garnered attention a couple of times, as some of the younger mercenaries have whistled and called out to her. After all, she is fairly tall for a human woman, not to mention physically attractive. Which her cloak doesn't entirely hide. 

Lis has just ignored them as she's gone about her business. Though she did glare at one young man, who approached her, until she flipped her cloak to one side, and put a gloved hand on the hilt of her sword. Which immediately scared off the young mercenary who tried to approach her. 

The scout Maera after a quick look around, spots the inn that Dalinvardèl Tanith mentioned, the inn that those in command of the mercenary army are using as their headquarters. 

Lisell Maera doesn't go in, and instead she wanders around to the back. And spotting stables just back from the inn. 

Which by the sounds of it, only has a few horses in it at the moment. She walks over to it, and ends up having a chat with the stableboy who is mucking out the empty stalls. 

The Brattonburian born scout in the Armies of Farque finds out the stableboy is a local. And that most of the villagers are still here, living and working. 

Even though the Geist Trading Company basically took over the village a little over a couple of weeks ago. 

First with their own guardsmen, followed by the mercenary companies that have been trickling in over the last couple of weeks. 

The stableboy who is about eleven or twelve years old, and is eager to talk, especially to an attractive young woman, who he assumes is a mercenary from one of the newly arrived companies. 

Tells Lis that from what he's overheard from the officers and members of the Geist Trading Company staying at his uncle's inn. 

That they're expecting the last of the hired mercenary companies to arrive over the next couple of days. After that, they'll make a decision to when they'll move out. 

Though the young stableboy does admit he doesn't know where the mercenary army will go. He like many of the actual companies, think they'll head over the border into the kingdom of Girdane. 

A border which isn't all that far away from here, less than half a dozen miles away to the northwest from the village. 

After chatting with the stableboy, and the youngster goes back to his work, on this cold winter's morning. 

The scout officer in the Armies of Farque, whose mother was a street prostitute in Brattonbury, and whose father, who she never knew or met. Was a sailor who plied his trade upon the Great Western Ocean, going up and down the coast of the Southlands. 

Leans against the side of the stables, looking at the back of the inn, which is less than twenty yards away. 

The scout Maera is just wondering if she should enter the inn, to find out any other useful information concerning this mercenary army that's been brought together by the Geist Trading Company. 

When suddenly a quiet , familiar voice says in her right ear "I wouldn't go in there if I was you" followed by "They've got a wizard checking everyone who enters". 

Lis who slightly jumped in surprise at hearing the voice, sourly smiles then quickly chucks a right elbow to the side. Which only gets a quiet chuckle in reply, this time from the left to her. 

"Nice try" quietly says Helbe the elven thief, who speaking in elven to the scout Maera continues with "But seriously, don't go in there". 

The attractive young woman glances sideways to her left where she figures the blurred and shielded elven magic user is. 

Then she nods, and quietly says to him in the elven language "I gather you've found out more after what Narladene told Dalin?". 

"I have" replies the young elven noble who is from the island principality of Laerel. Though he's not just any noble. He's from house Raendril. The royal house of Laerel. His grandfather is Prince Raendril himself. While his mother is the heir to the throne. 

"Dalin is heading this way" quietly says the elven masterthief, who is a member of Lord Farque's personal council. 

"Let's go to him" adds the elven princeling, who follows that with "And I'll tell both of you what else I've discovered". 

Lisell Maera nods, then she moves off, following the instructions of the blurred and shielded elven magic user, who is walking beside her. 

Who quietly informs her where Dalinvardèl Tanith is, as he's just entered the hill country village, on this cold winter's morning here in the north of the city-state of Vexil . . . . . .