Mercenary Tales 77.

The Kingdom Of Girdane. 

Meanwhile in southern Girdane. Closing on dawn. Helbe the elven thief frowns as he watches another pair of riders go by on the road below him in the darkness before dawn. 

The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel grunts to himself after reading their minds as they enter some trees. 

The blurred and shielded elven magic user then glances to his right shoulder, and nods his hooded head in response to Narladene the ground pixie quietly ask him "Messengers again?". 

The elven masterthief looks around, then he shifts up to small hill further behind them. Once on the hilltop, the elven master assassin looks around in all directions, up in the sky. 

Narladene does likewise once the elven practitioner of magic quietly tells her what to look out for. 

After a little while, Helbe the elven thief quietly says "There". The tiny winged creature standing upon his right shoulder nods when she spots it too. 

In the darkness of the night, an airship is traveling south, likely coming from the capital city of Oaklynn. It's a warship belonging to the kingdom's aircorp. 

The elven master archer and the naturally magical creature who is attached to him. Look beyond that warship which is about twelve miles to the north of their position. And look away, further to the north. 

The darkness doesn't bother them and their sight. Nor the distance. For further north, about twenty miles from where they are. Is another warship, that's part of the Girdanian aircorp. It too is heading south. 

"Hell" mutters the young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, who then tells Narladene "We better warn the others". 

The ground pixie who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains, is in agreement with that. And she holds onto the right shoulder of the highly talented elven magic user, who shifts away, heading south to where the others are. 

Mira Reinholt the mage is up early, well before dawn. He steps out of the barn they've spent the night in. 

A barn in a distant field of a farm. Where the farmhouse is over a good mile from the barn at this end of the farm. 

The once powerful mage who hails from the city-state of Vexil yawns as he wraps his thick black cloak tightly around himself. To try and ward off the chill of what's definitely going to be another cold winters day here in the central region of The Southlands. 

The Vexillian born spellcaster turns to look at the road that passes by not all that far from the barn at this end of the farm. 

The practitioner of magic who is also a highly skilled swordmaster wonders if they should leave early. 

For the simple reason the road will soon get busy, as it leads to a nearby town. A town that the local lord has his castle near. 

And a town, even in the depths of winter. Has the surrounding farmers bringing in their produce almost daily. 

The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, not just from Vexil. But the entire Southlands. 

Until he lost most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void that he accidentally cast a number of years ago. 

Yawns as he peers towards the nearby road. Which he can't see too clearly in the darkness. After all, he is human and lacks the enhanced eyesight of other races. 

The Vexillian mage who is exiled from his homeland goes to yawn again, when suddenly a familiar voice says right beside him "There's a problem". 

"Fuck" mutters Mira Reinholt the mage who almost jumped in fright when he heard Helbe the elven thief, who is now standing right beside him. 

"Oh, and what problem's that?" asks the human practitioner of magic to his fellow spellcaster, the elven masterthief. 

The young elven noble who is the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel then explains to the mage Reinholt what he's found out while he's been out and about during the night. 

"Fuck" mutters the exiled Vexillian mage again, after hearing what the elven master assassin has discovered. 

"We should be alright" quietly says the once powerful mage, who like the elven magic user, is a member of Lord Farque's personal council. 

"Especially if we break up, and don't travel as a group" adds the highly talented swordmaster, the elven master archer nods his hooded head in agreement with his fellow practitioner of magic. 

Then prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel, to give his full name and title, quietly says "Best we wake Tam and see what he thinks". 

The once powerful mage nods his hooded head in agreement with his fellow council member, then he quietly says "And if we should warn Marqand and his lot". 

Referring to the mercenary captain, and his company. Who they're part of. As they're out in front, about a dozen miles further ahead, supposedly scouting. 

"Might not have time to" quietly says Helbe the elven thief, who follows that with "That first airship I spotted isn't all that far away". 

The highly talented elven magic user continues on from that with "And if they catch them on the road, or in the open, that company is fucked". 

The Vexillian mage in exile grunts at that, then he quietly says "Well those Geist cousins wanted to stir up things here in southern Girdane" he follows that with "Just not as badly as it's turning out to be". 

The two spellcasters make their way into the barn, where they wake up Tamric Drubine the field commander. 

With the young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin awake, the elven princeling from Laerel quietly tells him what he's found out during the night. 

"Think they've been warned?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine the field commander after Helbe the elven thief has explained things. 

"Or they're finally acting because of what's been going on down in the border region" quietly adds the young man who is already a senior officer in the Armies of Farque. 

Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, moves away from his lover, Saanea the witch. Who is still asleep beneath the blankets they share. 

Sitting on a hay bale, putting on his boots, with a faint lightball floating above them that the elven magic user has cast. 

Field commander Drubine looks at the two who are members of Lord Farque's personal council, then quietly says "With orders to attack any mercenary company they come across" he follows that with "Captain Marqand and his company are fucked if they're caught". 

"They knew the consequences of what they were doing" states Mira Reinholt the mage, which though true. The young field commander in the Armies of Farque isn't particularly happy with. 

As he's come to like the mercenary captain Marqand since they joined up with them. 

"Think they'll be safe?" asks Tam as he looks at the elven masterthief who is a member of the royal family that rules the principality of Laerel. 

"Marqand's company?" says Helbe the elven thief, who then shrugs his shoulders, before adding "Who knows?". 

The highly talented elven magic user continues on with "With it still dark out, that first ship will probably not spot them". 

The elven master assassin who is a member of Lord Farque's personal council, then says "That second ship won't though, as it'll be dawn by the time it gets down here" he then adds "Especially if Marqand's lot continue to use the main road that's nearby". 

The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel glances at his right shoulder, where Narladene who is invisible to Tamric Drubine and Mira Reinholt, has just landed. 

The elven master archer listens to what the ground pixie whispers to him, then he quietly tells the young field commander, and the once powerful mage "There's two more warships heading this way, trailing the second one by about twenty miles or so". 

Rubbing his chin, field commander Drubine quietly says "Hell, four royal warships that aren't patrol vessels, here in the south of the kingdom". 

The young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin follows that with "They mean business". 

Both councillor Raendril and councilor Reinholt nod in agreement with the young field commander in the Armies of Farque. 

"And who knows how many will turn up later in the morning" adds Tam, who is the son of a former Knight of Castle Drubine. A castle that can be found in the heavily forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin. 

The senior officer in the Armies of Farque falls silent, when they see Shur Kee the monk get up from where he's been sleeping. 

The honorary member of Lord Farque's personal council, glances their way, and nods before he makes his way out of the barn. 

They known the acolyte in the order of Bru Li does his physical routine, then meditates before the sun rises, as he does every day. 

Field commander Drubine thinks about something for a moment, and after making a decision, he quietly says "We'll warn Marqand". 

Looking at the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel, the young noble who hails from the kingdom of Sarcrin asks him "Think you can get me to them before that first warship, or at least that second one shows up?". 

Without even hesitating, Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head, then says "Easily". The elven magic user continues with "Not so to there". 

In reply to Tam asking him "What about back down to the border, and the army still there?". 

"If they're still on this side of the border when those warships show up, they're fucked " says Mira Reinholt the mage, both the young field commander, and the elven master assassin nod in agreement with that. 

The young noble originally from the kingdom of Sarcrin then quietly explains to the pair who are members of Lord Farque's personal council, what they'll do. 

After Tamric Drubine outlines what they'll do, he quietly says "After all, we've achieved what we set out to do when we left camp yesterday afternoon" he follows that, in a dry tone of voice with "Not that we actually did anything". 

Prince Helbenthril Raendril faintly smiles at that, then the young field commander tells the once powerful mage "Get the others up, and get moving as quickly as you can". 

Tam continues on from that with "And try to stay out of sight of any passing warships" followed by "And any mounted patrols too" he then adds "Whether local ones, or ones sent down from the capital". 

"I will" says Mira Reinholt the mage with a nod of his hooded head, then field commander Drubine says "Let's get moving then". 

As the Vexillian mage in exile moves off to start waking the others up. And Helbe the elven thief makes his way outside. 

Tamric Drubine gathers his pack and weapons, then quietly wakes up his lover, Saanea the witch. The young noble who hails from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, quickly and quietly tells her what's going on, and that he's going with the highly talented elven magic user. 

Once he's finished speaking with the practitioner of magic who is his lover, field commander Drubine heads outside. 

Where he finds the elven master archer off to one side, quietly talking with Shur Kee the monk. Who has paused in his predawn, early morning exercises. 

After speaking with the physical adept, who is the only member of the group not from The Southlands. 

The elven princeling from Laerel makes his way over to where field commander Drubine is quietly waiting for him in front of the barn. 

"Ready?" quietly asks the highly talented elven spellcaster, the young field commander in the Armies of Farque nods his head in reply to the member of the undead warlord's personal council. 

Helbe the elven thief then takes a hold of the left arm of Tamric Drubine. And in the gloom of predawn, the two of them vanish when the elven magic user looks southwards, and shifts them away on what's going to be another cold winters day in this region of The Southlands . . . . . .

Mercenary Tales 76.

Oaklynn. 

Salinéll the elven maiden wakes up in a daze, she doesn't know how long she's been out. But figures it's not long. As she hears shouting down below on the first floor of the house they're staying in. 

The elven magic user who hails from the principality of Alinlae winces as she hears an explosion downstairs. 

Then the elven practitioner of magic in her daze, pauses as she realizes that she didn't sense whatever they spell was. Which she figures was cast by Margin the wizard. 

The elven spellcaster then realizes that also she can't sense her own magic. And though dazed, she should be able to sense it, and draw from it. But as she lies here on the floor of the upstairs bedroom. Salinéll the elven maiden is unable to draw upon her magic, and cast. 

The elven magic user groans as she tries to move, and finds that something is lying across her back, as she lies on her stomach upon the floor. And whatever that something is, it's heavy. So much so, that she's unable to move from where she's prone on the floor. 

The elven maiden from the principality of Alinlae hears a stangled scream, that's abruptly cut off. Salinéll is more than certain, that was her fellow elf, Jarkellé the warden who was screaming there. 

The practitioner of magic who is the bastard child of elven nobility, hears and feels another explosion downstairs. 

This time the floorboards to her left, are blasted upwards, barely missing her. Residue of magic in the form of bright red sparks, float in the air, coming up through the hole in the floor next to the elven maiden who is originally from the principality of Alinlae, before they dissipate to nothing. 

Salinéll hears a thud downstairs, and she winces as it definitely sounded like a body hitting something, the floor, or a wall. And hitting it fairly hard too. 

The elven maiden groans as she tries to move, and get out from under whatever it is that's across her back. 

The spellcaster from the elven principality of Alinlae turns her head as she feels a cold breeze that way. And she sees a hole in the wall where the bedroom window once was. 

Then Salinéll suddenly stops squirming, trying to get out from underneath whatever it is that's holding her down, when she hears someone coming up the stairs to the second floor of the narrow home they're staying in while here in the city of Oaklynn. 

The elven practitioner of magic even in her daze, is certain that whoever it is that's making their way upstairs, is wearing steel boots. 

Then when the elven magic user from Alinlae hears that person out in the hallway, she tries to turn her head to look at the door to the bedroom she was sleeping in, on this cold winters night, here in the city of Oaklynn. 

Salinéll is unable to turn her head enough to see who it is that's just walked into the room. 

The elven spellcaster winces as she takes a deep breath, causing quite a bit of pain down the length of her body. 

Then a voice, a man's voice, say "Don't bother trying to cast" followed by "You're cut off from your magic". 

The elven practitioner of magic then frowns as in front of her face, she sees a pair of large steel boots. Dark blue, almost black in colour. 

The voice, then tells her "Those other two fuckers, Margin and Jarkellé are dead" followed by "Don't expect any help from them". 

The elf originally from the principality of Alinlae grimaces when she hears that. For if it's true, which she assumes it is. She realizes she's the only one left alive of the group she's gathered over the last quarter century or so, since the Battle of Vexil. 

"Time for you to take a trip Salinéll" says the voice right beside her, a voice that's cold to the ears of the elven magic user who just now realizes the human is speaking her native language. 

"Or should I say Misa Geist, which is the name you take in your human form" adds the human standing right next to her. 

The elven maiden who hails from the principality of Alinlae goes completely still when she hears that, and just tries to relax as she feels panic trying to set in. 

Salinéll hears the person next to her moving, then suddenly she feels something wrapped around her left forearm and wrist. 

And her left hand suddenly takes hold of something as whatever it is that's across her back, is lifted off the elven practitioner of magic. 

Salinéll whose hand is now wrapped around whatever she's holding, groans as she's picked up off the floor with ease. 

Then the elven magic user blinks as she's held up, feet dangling off the floor, right in front of whoever it is that's captured her, and who killed Jarkellé the elven warden and Margin the wizard. 

Once again, the elven maiden originally from the principality of Alinlae goes completely still, and panic does set it, when she clearly sees who has got a hold of her. 

She gulps in fright, as she looks at the large heavily armoured figure who is just standing there, staring at her as it holds her. 

Salinéll then gasps as she's flung over the broad heavily armoured right shoulder of her captor, and it's then that the elven spellcaster sees that her left hand is wrapped to the hilt of a massive sword. 

A massive sword that's now strapped to the back of the large heavily armoured figure that the elven maiden knows isn't what it appears to be. As she knows for a fact that it isn't alive, and is in fact dead. To be exact, undead. 

Salinéll who absolutely had no idea the undead could speak, or think for that matter. As she thought they were just mindless destructive creatures. 

Winces as the large heavily armoured figure steps out of the bedroom, through the hole in the wall, which obviously it created when it smashed into the second storey room she was sleeping in. 

The elven maiden's thoughts are in a whirlwind as the undead being once down in the lane behind the narrow home. 

Leaps to the roof of home behind it. Then it's moving, and moving at speed. Across rooftops as it moves away. 

Heading, Salinéll has no idea. As she's disoriented at the moment as they cross the city of Oaklynn on this cold winters night. 

The elven magic user who hails from the principality of Alinlae is wondering how the hell this undead human, got here to Oaklynn, the capital of Girdane so quickly. Since yesterday, just before noon. It was down in the capital city of Vexil. 

The elven practitioner of magic who isn't certain how's she's been cut off from her power, but figures it might have something to do with the sword she finds she's tied to. 

Blinks when she realizes that the ring on her left hand, which hides her from other spellcasters, is missing. She figures, correctly as it turns out. That the undead being has taken it off her. 

And now knows that's she's way more vulnerable than she initially thought. She's now unable to touch her power. But also, she is able to be sensed by other practitioners of magic. 

Salinéll tries to look around, and see where they are. But she quickly gives up on that, as most of everything is a blur as they move quickly across the rooftops of the buildings, here in the city of Oaklynn. 

After a while, the large heavily armoured undead being slows down, enough for the elven maiden from the principality of Alinlae to see where they are. 

The elven spellcaster spots a tower away to their right, a tower that she recognizes. Salinéll slightly nods to herself as she realizes they're in the south of the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane. 

She gets a glance up into the sky when the undead being leaps over a wide street to a four storey building. 

And by the position of two of the three moons of Volunell in the night sky, Salinéll figures it's closer to dawn than it is to the middle of the night. 

Probably a couple of turns of a sand glass is the elven magic user's best guess. 

After leaping from rooftop to rooftop for a little while longer, the undead being drops down into a lane. 

The elven practitioner of magic sourly smiles to herself, then grunts in reply to the undead being quietly saying to her "Remain silent" followed by "If not I'll crush your throat enough that you lose your voice". 

The attractive elven maiden refrains from saying anything as they exit a lane, and head down a street. 

Salinéll spots an inn to the left a bit further down the street, an inn that they enter. The undead being passes the sleepy innkeeper dozing at the front desk. 

And heads upstairs to one of the rooms up there. A room that the elven magic user sees is actually a suite. 

She winces when she's casually dropped on the floor, while the large sword she's still gripping, and tied to, is placed carefully down beside her. 

Salinéll hears the large heavily armoured undead being say something in a language she has no idea what it is. 

Then head to another room in the suite. While the elven maiden who is originally from the principality of Alinlae screws up her face as she smells something rather disgusting. 

Salinéll turns her head when she hears movement to her right, she goes completely still when she sees who it is, that's sitting on the floor, not that far from her. 

Someone who chuckles, in what can only be described as, delight. When the elven practitioner of magic looks at him. 

"Bitch, you gone fucked up" says the large ork named Dorc da Orc who looks at the massive sword Salinéll finds herself tied to, then loudly mutter "Fuck touching that thing" followed by another mutter, with "She fucken nasty". 

The elven magic user sighs, then wonders what's going to happen to her, now that's she's a captive of the undead being, and the large ork named Dorc. 

Both of whom Salinéll has tried to either kill or destroy over the last two and a half decades, since the Battle of Vexil. 

The elven practitioner of magic who hails from the principality of Alinlae hears the undead being return, and with him is someone else. As she lies on the floor, she turns her head to see who it is. 

"The fuck?" mutters Salinéll the elven maiden in disbelief when she sees who it is, that's with the large heavily armoured undead being. 

"You're dead" says the elven magic user, who starts seething in anger as she lies there, basically unable to move because of what's she's tied to. 

"As you can see, I'm not" says Beldane the cleric, who looks at the undead being, and tells him "What that Mercer told us was true" he briefly pauses before adding "From what he told us before Dorc chopped him up". 

Well, so that's what happened to Mercer I guess, Salinéll the elven magic user sourly thinks to herself when she realizes what happened to one of the group she's gathered over the years. 

Then the elven magic user, realizes that the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine must of just read her mind. 

"Betrayer" hisses Salinéll as she looks at the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine, who yesterday and the day before, she thought was helping her and the others, when they were down in the city of Vexil. 

"That's rich coming from you" says the cleric in the half plate armour, who then wryly adds "Considering you've tried to forment a wide ranging war between nations, here in this region of The Southlands". 

Salinéll the elven maiden shuts up at that. For through she'd hate to admit it. But Beldane the cleric speaks the truth there. 

The elven practitioner of magic doesn't catch what the fighting cleric and the undead being quietly discuss, as she's too busy lying there, seething in anger at the situation she finds herself in. 

The maiden who hails from the elven principality of Alinlae takes notice of things again, when the undead being and the fighting cleric move to stand next to her. 

Then composing herself after taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down, the elven spellcaster asks them "What are you going to do to me?". 

"We're going to go somewhere" is the reply from the undead being as he looks down at the prone elven magic user. 

"Where?" asks the elf who is the bastard child of elven nobility, who figures, what could be worse than this?. 

"Why, we're going to pay a visit to your cousins Gamil and Farsen Geist" is the reply from Lord Farque after a moments silence as he and Beldane the cleric continue to look down at their captive. 

"Fuck" mutters Salinéll the elven maiden with a grimace upon her youthful and beautiful looking face when she hears that . . . . . .

Mercenary Tales 75.

The City Of Oaklynn. 

They enter the city of Oaklynn proper just before midnight. Going by the massive airdocks that lie to the southwest of the city. 

There's no walls around Oaklynn, and they enter the city between two buildings, and end up on a street. 

They turn right along the street, that like a lot of streets at night in the capital city, even during winter, is lit. In this case, torch lit. Just like most of the streets in the south of the city. 

The three of them cross the street, and head down a dark lane. The lane is fairly short, and they come out onto another street. That has a few people on it, even though it's close to midnight. 

One glance at the trio, and people keep well clear of them. 

The large heavily armoured figure leading the way, gestures to the other side of the street, which they cross over to. 

The one in the half plate armour walking beside him, yawns. Something that's noticed by the one leading the way. 

While the massive figure at the back, trudges along behind the other two. Scowling and glaring at anyone and anything that catches his attention. 

Seeing that Beldane the cleric is more than a little tired after all that's taken place today. Which began down in the city of Vexil, and is now here in Oaklynn, the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane. Lord Farque leads the way to an inn that he knows of in this part of the city. 

The undead warlord slightly nods his full helmed head when next to him, Beldane the cleric quietly asks him "Know where they are?". 

As they turn a corner, the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine asks the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque "We heading there now?". 

The lord of the death realm doesn't reply immediately, until he finally answers with a shake of his head. 

"You're in no state to take them on" quietly says Lord Farque, who follows that with "You're almost out on your feet now". 

The powerful cleric who hails from the kingdom of Nastell, refrains from yawning again, but only briefly, as he soon yawns as they cross a small square, here in the southwest of the city of Oaklynn. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord, who has the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his lands also know him by. Knows that the fighting cleric is struggling to keep holding his power within himself. 

"You need rest" quietly says the deathlord of Farque, who slightly nods his head back behind them, then quietly says in the elven language "Besides fatso hasn't eaten in while" followed in the same language with "I can tell when he's getting fucking cranky". 

The undead warlord then tells the Nastellian born spellcaster "The big fuckwit needs to be fed and watered". 

Beldane the cleric slightly grins at that, then once again he yawns. Proving that indeed, he does need rest. 

As they head down a long street, Dorc da Orc perks up when he spots what's obviously an inn further down the other side of the street. 

An inn, that by the looks and sounds of things, still takes customers even though it's close to midnight. 

They cross the street, and Draugodrottin nods his full helmed head in reply to Dorc da Orc asking "We fucken going there?". Referring to the inn they're approaching. 

They enter the establishment, and after getting what's essentially a suite up on the second floor of the two storey building. 

The trio enter the common room of the inn, a common room, that even at this time of the night, is easily half full. 

The conversations die down as the patrons look at the trio who have just entered. And more than a few stares are directed their way, as they head to a corner table, here in the inn's common room. 

The conversations from the other patrons pick up again after the trio sit down. Well Lord Farque and Beldane the cleric sit down at the corner table. While Dorc da Orc sits on the floor, next to the table. As no chair or bench here in the common room can support his weight. 

While the large ork, whose actual name is Dorkindle, fidgets as he waits for the food and drink he's ordered to arrive. 

Beldane the cleric after looking around at the other customers in the common room, quietly asks the lord of the death realm "Where exactly are they?". 

"North of here" is the quiet reply of the undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer. 

"On the other side of the city center, and the royal palace" quietly adds the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque. 

"The three of them?" quietly asks the powerful practitioner of magic who is a member of the church of Glaine. 

The deathlord of Farque replies with a nod of his full helmed head. Then he and the fighting cleric fall silent as the serving woman, and a helper stop at their table to deliver drinks. 

Most of which, including a barrel that's rolled over. Ends up with the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. 

As the ork warleader yanks the cork from a bottle of wine, and downs it's contents in one go. Beldane the cleric quietly asks the undead warlord "Notice all that activity at the airdocks when we went by?". 

With a nod of his full helmed head, the lord of the death realm quietly says "At the docks of their aircorp". 

Des'tier continues with "Word's probably got to them of all the activity down on the border" followed by "It was bound to happen". 

"Wonder if they got word of it from that trio who turned up today?" muses the fighting cleric who hails from the north of the kingdom of Nastell, where his god Glaine, is predominantly worshipped. 

"A possibility" quietly says the undead warlord, who follows that with "Especially considering all the other shit they've tried to stir up in this region". 

The powerful spellcaster nods his head in agreement with the large heavily armoured deathlord. 

Then they fall silent again when the serving woman and her helper return with food. Which like the drink, most of it goes to the big burly ork sitting on the floor next to the table the other two are sitting at. 

As Dorc chows down on a rolled roast pork, Beldane the cleric nibbles on some bread and cheese. 

The powerful practitioner of magic slightly nods when the deathlord of Farque quietly tells him "They've settled down for the night from what I can tell". 

Then the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine lifts an eyebrow in surprise when the undead warlord quietly tells him "Think we'll take this Salinéll alive". 

"Oh" says Beldane, who after pouring himself some wine, and taking a drink of it, adds "And why's that?". 

The Nastellian born spellcaster listens as Draugodrottin, quietly and in the elven language, explains why they'll take the elven magic user who they're after, alive. 

The cleric in the half plate armour eyebrows shoot up in surprise again once the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque finishes explaining why. 

"Hell" murmurs the cleric who hails from the north of the kingdom of Nastell, who then quietly says in elven "That's if they're still alive down there in the border region". 

The lord of the death realm just shrugs his broad heavily armoured shoulders in reply to that, and does so again, when Beldane asks him "And the other two, the wizard and that elven warden?". 

Well, they're dead then, the fighting cleric dryly thinks to himself referring to the wizard Margin, and Jarkellé the elven warden. 

Then the powerful practitioner of magic who is a member of the church of Glaine, quietly asks the undead warlord "When should we get her?". 

"Halfway to dawn I guess" is the quiet reply of Des'tier, who falls silent for a few moments as the serving woman and her helper return once more, bringing Dorc da Orc more alcohol. Barrels of ale to be exact. 

"I'll do it" quietly says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque after the serving woman and her helper move away. 

"You two stay here" quietly adds the large heavily armoured deathlord, followed by "You need rest if we're to go south to the border first thing in the morning". 

Draugodrottin then glances at the large ork sitting on the floor trying to shove a whole cooked leg of lamb into his mouth at once. 

"And the fat fucking idiot will just get in the way if I take him" adds Lord Farque, who has learned over the years. That true, Dorc da Orc is great in a fight. But capturing someone isn't exactly his specialty. Considering he tends to just kill everyone. 

The fighting cleric finishes his meal, and finally the ork warleader finishes eating too. Though the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque, takes a lot of booze with him up to their suite when they head up there. 

While Beldane quickly falls asleep, the undead warlord remains with the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world for a while. 

It's not until much later, nearly halfway to dawn, that the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque leaves. Though only after telling Dorkindle to guard the sleeping cleric. Which is fine by him, as he intends to drink the last of the alcohol he's brought up to their rooms with him. 

Draugodrottin quickly departs the inn, and as usual when he wants to move with speed through a city, he heads up. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque is moving quickly across the rooftops, here in the southwest of the city of Oaklynn. Heading more or less towards the city center. On what's a cold winters night for this part of the kingdom of Girdane. 

The undead warlord leaps over a street, going over a pair of the city watch. Who are escorting a street lighter. Who is dousing some of the torches in the neighbourhoods in the southwest corner of the city. 

It doesn't take Des'tier long to reach the city center, and he's soon moving northwards through Oaklynn. Keeping clear of the royal palace and the parliament building. 

The lord of the death realm leaps to the top of a fifty foot tower. Where he briefly stops. Draugodrottin who has been continuously sensing since he left the inn they're staying at. Slightly nods to himself, when he spots the building in the distance, the targets he's after are in. 

The warlord of Farque sees that it's a fairly narrow two storey house, in one of the nicer neighbourhoods here in Oaklynn. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord then leaps off the tower and lands on a nearby rooftop. He lands mid stride, and continues running and leaping from rooftop to rooftop, as he heads towards the building the trio he's after, are in this cold winters night. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque soon comes to a stop when he jumps down into a lane, and looks down a street, to the rear of the house that Salinéll the elven magic user, Jarkellé the elven warden and Margin the wizard are in this night. 

The undead warlord wryly smiles to himself as he can clearly sense, and see the hidden spells that both Margin and Salinéll have placed around, and inside the house they're staying in while here in the city of Oaklynn. 

Draugodrottin leaps up to the roof of the building to his right. It's in fact a house, a row of which the undead warlord makes his way along until he's opposite the rear of the narrow, street front house that trio he's after are in. 

The deathlord of Farque who can see all life, and death for that matter. Basically looks through the rear wall of the two storey home opposite the one he's standing on top of. 

Des'tier sees that Salinéll the elven maiden is asleep in the bedroom on the second floor. While Margin the wizard is in the first room bedroom. And Jarkellé the elven warden, is awake on watch, in the front parlour of the two storey home, looking out the window to the street on that side of the house. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord moves a bit to his right, so that he's directly in line with the second floor bedroom that the elven magic user from the principality of Alinlae, Salinéll is asleep in. 

Lord Farque slightly nods his full helmed head to himself then draws his massive sword that's strapped to his back. The undead warlord wants to capture Salinéll alive. And The Sword of Power will be easiest for that to occur. Draugodrottin briefly glances down to the ground floor of the narrow home across the street. 

Before looking back up to the second floor, and the window of the bedroom that Salinéll the elven maiden is asleep in. 

The undead warlord then leaps across the twenty foot wide lane between the row of homes on this side, and the ones in front of them. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque with Ryn the Sword of Power in hand, passes through the wards protecting the narrow home the trio he's after are in. 

And smashes through the window, and to be fair much of the wall that surrounds the window, and enters the second storey bedroom on this cold winters night, here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane . . . . . .

Mercenary Tales 74.

The City Of Oaklynn. The Kingdom Of Girdane. 

They spend the evening at one of their safe houses after seeing a number of their contacts during the late afternoon, here in the city of Oaklynn. 

They don't have much in the way of influence amongst the kingdom's royalty and government. Compared to what they have down in the city-state of Vexil. 

But here in the kingdom of Girdane, they have more influence amongst those in the business community. 

And it's in a spare home of one of the kingdom's business leaders. That they find themselves in, this cold winters night. 

"Must be where he meets his mistress" dryly says Margin the wizard referring to the two storey home they're in. Located in a nicer part of the city, but not where the truly wealthy of the kingdom reside. They tend to live closer to the royal palace. Which is near the center of the city of Girdane. 

The elven warden Jarkellé just grunts in reply to that from the practitioner of magic who hails from the city-state of Vexil. 

The elf originally from the principality of Alinlae is in a foul mood since they left the city of Vexil in a hurry just before noon today. 

To be fair, Margin has been in a similar mood since they hurriedly departed the capital of the city-state of Vexil. 

It's just at the moment the spellcaster in the red robes hides his feelings a bit better than the elf who is one of only two others than himself, left in their group. As they stand in the front parlour of the narrow two storey house, with a fire lit in the fireplace to ward of the cold this evening. 

The wizard who yawns, as he's tired after creating two rifts this day, quietly says "I don't know" dryly followed by "You know I can't sense her". In response to Jarkellé the elven warden asking him "Where is she?". 

The elf originally from the principality of Alinlae sighs, then mutters in his native tongue "I should of gone with her". 

Margin who can kind of understand elven, asks Jarkellé "What was that?' followed by "Something about Salinéll I gather?". 

The elven warden nods his head, then in the common language, says "I said, I should of gone with her". 

"You know how she is, when she gets it in her head to do something" says the Vexillian born spellcaster, who continues on with "She'll do whatever it takes" the practitioner of magic follows that with "You of all people should know this". 

Jarkellé sourly grunts, then sighs as he knows all too well how Salinéll the elven maiden can be. Especially considering how bad things have got, now that the three of them are all that's left of the group that the elven maiden had gathered to her over the last quarter century since the Battle of Vexil. 

There's real glass windows in this house, and Margin the wizard parts one of the closed curtains to glance outside of the two storey house that's right on the street front. 

The street outside is lamp lit, and the spellcaster who hails from the city-state of Vexil sees a few people on the street, huddled in their cloaks, as they hurry about on what's a cold night here in the city of Oaklynn. 

Margin fully closes the curtains again, and takes a seat, as he sees that Jarkellé has sat down on one of the chairs here in the front parlour of the home that belongs to a fairly prominent business owner, here in the kingdom of Girdane. 

The wizard in the red coloured robes yawns, then leans back in the comfortable chair he's sitting in, and finally says what they've all thought about today, but have yet to voice. 

"Well, that went to shit today" says the practitioner of magic who hails from the city-state of Vexil. 

"And that's putting it lightly" adds the wizard who is the last human left in the group that had been gathered over the last quarter century or so by Salinéll the elven magic user. 

Jarkellé the elven warden slightly grunts, then nods his head in agreement with the practitioner of magic sitting on the other side of the small parlour they find themselves in. 

Then the elf who hails from the principality of Alinlae says "The entire group wiped out except for the three of us" he briefly pauses before adding in a dry tone of voice "Not to mention that damn ork is still alive". 

Margin winces at hearing that, as he too thought the ork named Dorc da Orc was finally dead. Killed by Mercer after they had captured it. 

"No idea how that thing is still alive" says the Vexillian born spellcaster with a shake of his head as the two of them wait for Salinéll the elven maiden to return from whatever it is she's doing this night, here in the city of Oaklynn, the capital of the kingdom of Girdane. 

"I hope it's alive" mutters the wizard Margin, who follows that with "And not, you know" he briefly pauses before continuing with "Undead". 

Jarkellé winces at the thought of that, then he says "No, it's alive" followed by a muttered "Thank the forest gods". 

The elven warden from the principality of Alinlae continues with "Definitely alive" he then says "It still stank like the cesspit it is when it rushed us". 

Jarkellé then tells the Vexillian born spellcaster "Undead smell cold and metallic, and that bloody thing was definitely not cold". 

The wizard Margin grunts as he figured as much. Besides if the large ork named Dorc da Orc was undead. The three of them would be dead like the rest of the group. 

The two of them are silent for a few moments, then the practitioner of magic quietly says "We've no clerics to help us out if we run into them again". 

The elven warden nods in agreement with that, then he says "Maybe Salinéll can get some more help from the church of Famal here again?". 

"Hopefully" murmurs Margin, who is fairly certain that word from Vexil will reach here, probably by tomorrow, as to what's happened down in the capital of the neighbouring city-state. 

And how the church of Famal here in Oaklynn won't be too pleased to learn that the leader of their church in Vexil has died. And that the interim leader who took over, is also dead. 

The practitioner of magic originally from the city-state of Vexil is about to say something, when Jarkellé holds up hand, then quietly says "Someone approaching on this side of the street". 

The two of them get up from their chairs, and as they make their way to the front door of the house they're staying in, the warden from the elven principality of Alinlae quietly says "It's her". 

There's a knock on the front door, and Jarkellé opens it, and with the cold air that comes in, is Salinéll the elven maiden. 

After closing the front door, then making their way back into the front parlour of the two storey home they've got use of, while here in the city of Oaklynn. Margin the wizard asks his fellow practitioner of magic "Well?". 

The elven magic user sits down in the chair closet to the fireplace, then Salinéll the elven maiden says "Something good for once". 

She briefly pauses before adding in a sour tone of voice "Especially considering how badly things went today down in Vexil". 

The elven spellcaster who is the bastard child of elven nobility, which explains why she's a practitioner of magic. As only elven nobles are capable of casting. 

Then tells the other two "I got a hold of one of our contacts" followed by "The shipping magnate with ties to the palace and the house of lords". 

Both Margin and Jarkellé nod in understanding as they know who the attractive elven maiden is referring to. 

"He's gone immediately to the palace to inform them of an incursion across the border from Vexil" says Salinéll the elven magic user. 

Margin the wizard slightly winces at that, as they know just the one mercenary company from the army gathered by Geist cousins Gamil and Farsen are heading north through southern Girdane. 

While the rest of the mercenary army will head back into Vexil early tomorrow morning, sometime before dawn. 

"I suspect the response will be swift from the palace" continues the elven maiden from the principality of Alinlae. 

Who in her guise as Misa Geist, has got her so called cousins Gamil and Farsen, to do what she wants them to do. 

And though the cousins who run the company business want to create a border war between Vexil and Girdane, so that they can profit from it. 

Salinéll the elven maiden has other plans. She wants an all out war between the two nations. Hopefully a war that will expand to involve other nations here in the central region of The Southlands. Not too mention the robber barons and others who attempt to rule the unruled lands scattered across this region of The Southlands. 

"Could be sometime tonight" says the elven magic user who hides her ability to cast thanks to a magical charm she wears. 

"Early tomorrow morning at the latest" adds the elven maiden who has spent the last quarter century trying to start a wide ranging war in this region. As well as trying to kill two people, who were involved in the death of her father a quarter of a century ago during The Battle of Vexil. 

"At least that's something good that's come out of today" says Margin the wizard, Jarkellé the elven warden grunts in agreement with the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil. 

"They might cross over the border themselves" adds the practitioner of magic who wears dark red coloured robes. 

"Let us hope" says Salinéll the elven maiden, who after a moments pause, continues with "As for our other problem". Margin and Jarkellé share a look as they're both certain where this is going. 

"That damn ork" says the elven practitioner of magic, who follows on from that with "And the undead creature". 

The elven spellcaster who like Jarkellé hails from the principality of Alinlae, looks sharply at the human wizard, before saying "Considering that damn ork is supposed to be dead, and it isn't". 

The wizard Margin winces at that, for Salinéll is more than annoyed at finding that the ork named Dorc da Orc is still alive. When she was told it was dead. 

"We'll have to try and get some more help from the churches and temples here, as well as down in Vexil" adds the elven practitioner of magic, who follows that with "With them is our only chance of getting rid of that undead thing". 

Salinéll looks at both the wizard and the elven warden and tells them "Mark my words, when we return to the city of Vexil, we'll find those two and destroy them once and for all". 

Meanwhile, a little earlier in the evening. A gateway appeared near a town about six and a half miles away to the southwest of the city of Oaklynn. 

Well out of the range for Salinéll the elven magic user and Margin the wizard to sense. And for that matter, pretty much every other spellcaster in the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane with the exception of the strongest of mages. 

And out of the gateway came the pair that Salinéll, Margin and Jarkellé were just discussing. Along with a third person. Who the trio saw die earlier in the day, down in the city of Vexil. Or so they thought he died . . . . . . 

Mercenary Tales 73.

Northern Vexil. 

Lord Farque goes through the gateway first, followed by Dorc da Orc, then finally Beldane the cleric. 

The powerful practitioner of magic in the church of Glaine, drops his spell. And the gateway disappears behind him. 

The fighting cleric looks around, then looks over at the undead warlord. And though Beldane can't see the face behind the deathlord of Farque's helm's visor. 

He's pretty sure the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque is frowning from what he can catch a glimpse of through the eye slot of the full helm. 

"What is it?" quietly asks Beldane the cleric as the undead warlord just stands there, looking off to the northwest. 

"They're not here" is the reply from Lord Farque "The three we're" says the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine, who is interrupted by the large heavily armoured deathlord with "No" followed by "The group". 

Beldane's eyebrows lift in surprise when he hears that and does so again, when the lord of the death realm says "That army is that way". 

The undead being gestures to the northwest, then adds "And they're not there" he then mutters "Where the fuck have they gone off to?". 

Beldane the cleric knows that the deathlord of Farque can easily sense anyone, especially those he knows, from well over twenty miles away. 

So Tamric Drubine the field commander and the rest of the group must be some distance away from here. 

"What about the ones we're after?" asks the powerful spellcaster who hails from the kingdom of Nastell. 

"They're here" is the quiet reply of undead warlord, who also has the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his lands know him by. 

"At that camp" adds the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who continues on from that with "About three or so miles to the northwest" he follows that with "I guess over the border in Girdane". 

Beldane nods his head when he hears that, then follows after the large heavily armoured deathlord who sets off. 

Dorc da Orc who has been standing there, busy scratching his nuts, not really listening to the conversation between the other two. 

Grunts then follows after them when the lord of the death realm tells him in orkish "Hurry up cunt, we're going". 

It's far colder up here in the hill country that straddles the border region between the city-state of Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane compared to down in the city of Vexil itself. 

And the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine wraps his cloak tightly around himself as he keeps pace with the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque who has the elven name of Des'tier. 

Behind them, the ork warleader is just glad to be in the colder weather up here in the hill country. Though he wishes it was colder still, far below freezing if he had his way. 

The three of them left the capital city of Vexil, and came up here for the simple reason this is the direction that Lord Farque sensed that the trio they're after, fled to. 

They know a hell of a lot more after Beldane read the mind of Mercer, just before Dorc da Orc finally killed the so called mercenary. After the large ork chopped off his limbs, and finished shitting on him. 

As he walks beside Draugodrottin as they head uphill through some trees, Beldane the cleric shakes his head, before he says "What some will do for revenge". 

Glancing at the large heavily armoured deathlord walking beside him, then back at the big burly ork walking behind them, the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine says "That lot really hate you two". 

"The perks of getting involved in a lot of things, and killing a lot of people over the years" dryly says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque. 

The lord of the death realm shrugs his broad heavily armoured shoulders, then says "It happens" Draugodrottin continues on from that with "I bet the three who remain alive are regretting things at the moment". 

The Nastellian born practitioner of magic nods his head in agreement with that, then quietly says "They sure are". 

They weave through the trees as they continue on up the hill they're on, then after a while as they approach the crest of the hill, the undead warlord quietly tells the fighting cleric beside him "Hold your power within yourself" followed by "Remember they, in particular that Salinéll thinks you're dead". 

The member of the church of Glaine grunts in agreement with that, then holds his considerable amount of magical power within himself. Making it basically impossible for other spellcasters to sense him. 

Lord Farque glances at the fighting cleric's magical mace, and after a word to the Sword of Power Ryn, strapped to his back. 

The magical weapon belonging to the cleric who hails from the kingdom of Nastell, falls silent so to speak. And it too becomes impossible for those with magical powers to sense it. 

On top of the hill, the trio pause and look westwards, and in the distance, amongst the trees, about two and a bit miles away, they spot the camp they're after. 

After a few moments of silence as they stand in the freezing afternoon wind, the deathlord of Farque tells Beldane "You'll have to go into camp and see where they've gone off to". 

The cleric in the church of Glaine looks at the undead warlord and the large ork, knowing that the two of them would be more than a little conspicuous if they showed up in the camp of the Geist cousins mercenary army. 

Besides the two of them have never been part of the rest of the group, who are posing as mercenaries whilst in the army of the Geist cousins. 

Unlike Beldane who until recently was traveling with the rest of the group, and is known amongst the mercenary army, who have been gathered to start a war between the city-state of Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. 

"Might be bit of a problem if those three spot me" says the powerful spellcaster referring to the elves Salinéll and Jarkellé, as well as the wizard Margin. 

Lord Farque nods his full helmed head in agreement with that from the fighting cleric, then after a few moments of silence as they look off to the west, the lord of the death realm says "That might not be a problem". 

"Oh?" says the practitioner of magic who is originally from the north of the kingdom of Nastell. 

"I have a feeling they're leaving" says Des'tier who has sensed the trio they're after, are at the northern edge of the army camp in the distance amongst the trees, moving away from it. 

After a moment the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque nods, then says "A rift" he continues with "They're going north" followed by "They're gone". 

"Quick" says Draugodrottin to the fighting cleric "Head down there and find out where Tam and the others have gone" adds the large heavily armoured deathlord. 

The powerful cleric stops holding his power within himself, then teleports himself away, heading to the camp of the mercenary army gathered by Geist cousins Gamil and Farsen. 

"What we gonna fucken do?" asks Dorc da Orc as they wait for the Nastellian born spellcaster to return. 

"Go after those three" is the quiet reply from Lord Farque, who continues with "I've got a feeling where they're going". 

The undead warlord suspects that Tamric Drubine and the rest of the group have gone off in the same direction. 

Especially after they found out from Mercer what Salinéll the elven maiden, as Misa Geist wants her cousins, so to speak, to do with their mercenary army. 

It's not too long before the fighting cleric returns to the hilltop the deathlord of Farque and the ork warleader are waiting on. 

"They've gone north" says Beldane the cleric after appearing beside the other two, he then adds "The Geists have sent captain Marqand's company off that way". 

The member of the church of Glaine then explains what the Geist cousins want the mercenary company of captain Marqand to do. While the rest of the mercenary army heads back south over the border into northern Vexil as they hope to start an all out war between the city-state and the kingdom that share a border. 

"I figured as much" quietly says Des'tier, who then nods when Beldane says "Marqand's company left earlier today, just after noon". 

Lord Farque figures if they've been doing what they've been normally been doing whilst in the Geists mercenary army. 

Tam and the rest will be out further in front of the rest of captain Marqand's company. With Helbe the elven thief way out in front of the rest of the group. 

Who no doubt have been moving northwards by Mira Reinholt the mage and Saanea the witch teleporting the rest of the group. 

It's why he can't sense any of them, for even though they left the camp just after noon today, they're already well over twenty miles to the north from here. 

Draugodrottin senses once more to the north, then nods his full helmed head when he senses what must be the rest of captain Marqand's company on both foot, and horseback, about fifteen miles to the north. On what he figures is one of the roads that heads further north into the kingdom of Girdane. 

"Map" says the large heavily armoured deathlord to the fighting cleric, who takes out one of the maps he has tucked in an inner pocket of his cloak. 

After looking at the map, the lord of the death realm says "They're going this way" as he points at the map that shows most of eastern Girdane, and northern Vexil. 

"And those three fucks have definitely gone to Oaklynn" adds the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque referring to the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane. 

"Hoping to stir up some shit there no doubt" continues the undead warlord, the fighting cleric nods in agreement with that. 

As they now know that the group they've been after, have been trying to accomplish a couple of things as they've stirred up discord here in the central region of The Southlands. 

Of course they've tried to kill Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc for revenge. But they've also wanted to see the city-state of Vexil come under attack in earnest. Basically enter a war. First with the city-state of Tuledare. Which failed due to the efforts of the group in stopping a war over the unruled lands between the two city-states. And now with a potential war between Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. 

For a number of reasons by the group led by Salinéll the elven maiden. Foremost being the aftermath of the war over a quarter of a century ago known as The Battle of Vexil. 

And how things didn't turn out as they wanted from the points of view of the various members of Salinéll's group that she has gathered since that particular war. 

"Tam and the others?" asks Beldane the cleric, who continues with "Or those three who have gone to the capital?" referring to who they should go after. 

Running a finger along the map, that leads to the city of Oaklynn, which lies only about sixty miles from the southern border of the kingdom, Draugodrottin says "Same thing really". 

The deathlord of Farque continues on with "Tam and the rest of them will eventually end up there" Des'tier briefly pauses before adding "But we'll go to the capital first, to see if we can stop those three fuckers stirring up shit". 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque asks the fighting cleric how well he knows the area around the city of Oaklynn. 

After the member of the church of Glaine explains the places he knows near the capital of Girdane. The heavily armoured deathlord of Farque points at a spot about six miles south of the capital city, and says "There". 

The lord of the death realm continues with "Once we're through, make sure to hold your power within yourself" he follows that with "They don't know you're still alive, and that will be an advantage for us". 

Beldane the cleric nods his head, then he starts casting a gateway, the clerics version of a rift. And it soon forms, the other side of which is outside of a town about a half a dozen miles to the southwest of the city of Oaklynn. 

Lord Farque points at Dorc da Orc and gestures to the gateway, the large ork grunts and goes through it first. 

He's followed by the undead warlord, then finally the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine. As they leave the freezing windswept hilltop in the border region between the city-state of Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. 

And make their way to a town just six or so miles from the city of Oaklynn, the capital of Girdane on what's a cold winters day in this part of central region of The Southlands . . . . . .

Mercenary Tales 72.

Border Region. Hill Country. 

"Whatever plans they come up with" quietly says Tamric Drubine the field commander, who follows that with "And whatever they do" he then adds "They'll be wiped out by either side". 

"Good thing there's very little activity on this side of the border" says Malisse aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who continues with "They'd be fucked if the Girdanians were here in force". 

The young field commander in the Armies of Farque nods his head in agreement. As does Mira Reinholt the mage as the three of them stand outside one of the tents the group are using. On what's another cold winters day here in the hill country that straddles the border region between the city-state of Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. 

"We'll know soon enough what they intend to do" quietly says Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. 

"He'll be back as soon as he knows" continues the noble born field commander who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin. 

"That's if he hasn't wandered off to steal something" dryly says Mira Reinholt the mage referring to Helbe the elven thief, who at this moment is supposed to observing the private meeting of the Geist cousins Gamil and Farsen, and their guard commander Kilmas, along with the wizard Hoptas. 

Not even the trusted mercenary captains such as Marqand and Hafnah are privy to the private meeting taking place in the nearby command tent. 

The mercenary army that the Geist cousins have gathered, or what's left of it. Are still camped on the Girdanian side of the border. 

And though the cousins Gamil and Farsen now have more up to date and detailed information about the Vexillian forces across the border. 

They were hoping that their cousin Misa, whose plan this was originally. Was here in the hill country, instead of wherever she and the group she travels with, have taken off to. 

Close by, sitting on a fallen tree is Lisell Maera the scout. Standing nearby, leaning back against a tree, with his hands in the pockets of his cloak is Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy. While Tovis the war engineer paces and back forth near the two of them. 

All three of them are looking in the direction of the command tent. As are most of the mercenaries with captain Marqand's company, and the other close by companies. 

Who aren't busy working on things, cooking and cleaning and the like. As they all wait to see what the Geist cousins Gamil and Farsen decide to do. 

"Think they'll have us all head back across the border?" quietly asks Tovis the war engineer who stops his pacing for a moment, as he first looks at the elven spy from the principality of Alinlae, then the scout leader in the Armies of Farque, who originally comes from the city-state of Brattonbury. 

The spy Tanith, who is a commander in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque, shrugs his shoulders in reply to the war engineer, who hails from the kingdom of Druvic. 

"Possibly" says Lisell Maera the scout leader, who follows that with "Though they might have us head deeper into Girdane". 

The war engineer, who is a commanding officer in the engineering corp of the Armies of Farque, grunts in reply to that from the scout Maera. 

While Dalinvardèl Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, quietly says to the other two "Either way, I don't think it's going to end well for the Geists and their army of mercs". 

"You do know, we're in their army too" dryly says Lisell Maera who more often than not, is called Lis by the others in the group. 

The elven spy originally from the principality of Alinlae flashes a grin at the scout leader, then he goes back to looking towards the command tent of the Geist cousins Gamil and Farsen. 

Who are in a private conversation with their guard commander, Kilmas. Along with the senior most spellcaster in their mercenary army, the wizard Hoptas. 

Tovis the war engineer has resumed his pacing, while Lisell Maera takes her eyes off the command tent for a moment. 

And looks amongst the trees behind the spy Tanith, where she spots sir Percavelle Lé Dic. The large, heavily armoured knight is followed by Shur Kee the monk. Along with Zam the ex mercenary. Both of whom are keeping an eye on the noble born knight who like Tovis hails from the kingdom of Druvic. 

After a moment, the scout Maera goes back to watching the command tent of Gamil and Farsen Geist. On what's a cold winters day here in the hill country that straddles the border between the city-state of Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. 

"Any word?" quietly asks Saanea the witch who has made her way out of the tent she shares with her partner, Tamric Drubine the field commander. 

The young noble originally from the forested north of the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, shakes his head no in reply to the question from his lover, the witch from the Maldin Hills. 

"Any idea where he is?" quietly asks field commander Drubine to his lover Saanea. "You know, the royal thief" adds Tam, who though just in his early twenties is already one of the most senior officers in the Armies of Farque. 

"Absolutely no idea" is the reply from the practitioner of magic who is originally from the Maldin Hills, which is thousands of miles away to the west, on the coast of the Southlands. 

The witch glances at her fellow spellcaster, Mira Reinholt. The once powerful mage nods his head in agreement with the good looking witch. As he too is unable to locate Helbe the elven thief. 

Which to be fair, isn't all that surprising. As it's always near impossible to locate the elven masterthief, who like the mage Reinholt, and Malisse aka Zubutai Timaginson. Is a member of Lord Farque's personal council. 

"They're going on a bit aren't they?" mutters Narladene the ground pixie which causes Helbe the elven thief to grin as he continues to watch the meeting, here in the command tent of the mercenary army gathered by the Geist cousins. 

The highly talented elven magic user who is blurred and shielded already knows what the cousins Gamil and Farsen plan to do. 

At the moment they're just discussing with the guard commander Kilmas and the wizard Hoptas the finer details of their plan. 

That will see the bulk of the mercenary army head back across the border into northern Vexil. While a company, which they're deciding on at the moment. 

Will head further into Girdane, to see if they can illicit a reaction from any of the Girdanian forces in this area of the kingdom. Hoping to draw them into a conflict with the forces from the city-state of Vexil. 

The elven masterthief nudges, so to speak. The Geist cousins into making a decision. And the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel faintly smiles to himself when the Geist cousins decide which mercenary company will head further into the kingdom of Girdane. 

The elven master assassin who is a member of Lord Farque's personal council glances out of the front opening of the tent. 

And with Narladene clinging onto his right shoulder, he shifts away. Heading to where the others are waiting with the rest of captain Marqand's company. 

"At least with a lot of that column being wiped out, the army isn't too short of supplies" says Tamric Drubine the field commander as they chat to pass the time until Helbe the elven thief returns. 

The young noble originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin who is a senior officer in the Armies of Farque is about to say something else, when a familiar voice from out of nowhere, quietly says to them "In the tent". 

The blurred and shielded elven magic user continues with "They've decided what they're going to do". 

Tamric Drubine, along with Malisse aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, Mira Reinholt the mage, and Saanea the witch make their way into the tent they were standing in front of. 

And find the young elven noble who is a member of the royal family of the island principality of Laerel waiting for them. 

Helbe the elven thief, or prince Helbenthril Raendril to give him his full name and title, tells them "They're sending the bulk of the army back into Vexil" followed by "They'll be going over early tomorrow morning, before dawn is the plan". 

The others nod when they hear that, as that was the logical thing to do. And what most in the mercenary army expected to happen. 

"They're also sending a trusted company further into Girdane, to see if they can stir things up a bit" says the elven master archer, who having a flair for dramatics, pauses for a moment or two, before he continues with "Us". 

The highly talented elven spellcaster adds "To be exact, Marqand's company" he follows that with "I expect them to send a runner for captain Marqand anytime now" he continues on with "Summoning him, so they can explain to him what they want done". 

As the others nod at hearing that from the elven princeling from Laerel, Mira Reinholt the mage dryly asks his fellow practitioner of magic "By chance, you didn't volunteer Marqand's company did you?". 

Helbe the elven thief faintly smiles, then answers his fellow member of Lord Farque's personal council with "Would I do that?". 

"Yes" is the dry reply from the Vexillian born mage who is also a swordmaster, which causes the elven masterthief to chuckle. 

Then the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel explains to them in more detail what the Geist cousins Gamil and Farsen have planned. 

And how that they want captain Marqand's company on the move early this afternoon, which isn't all that far away, as it's approaching noon here in the hill country that straddles the border region between the city-state of Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. 

After they discuss things, Helbe the elven thief departs camp, and heads north to scout the way for them and captain Marqand's company when they leave in the afternoon. 

Meanwhile Tamric Drubine the field commander and Saanea the witch go in search of the rest of the group, who are nearby. To quietly inform them what's happening, and what they'll do. 

A little after noon, and most of the part of camp used by captain Marqand's company has been broken down, and packed up as they prepare to leave. 

Lisell Maera the scout who looks towards the middle of camp, slightly grimaces as she spots a trio of wagons amongst captain Mackrin's tents. 

The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury doesn't want to be anywhere near those. 

As she, like most of the group knows what's in the odd shaped boxes in the beds of those three wagon. 

The scout leader in the Armies of Farque makes her way over to where Tamric Drubine the field commander and Mira Reinholt the mage are talking with captain Marqand. 

"We'll have your lot Tam scout the way when we head out soon" is what captain Marqand is saying when the scout Maera joins them. 

"Should be no problem" says Tamric Drubine who follows that with "Things are a lot more settled here, compared to over the border in northern Vexil". 

The mercenary captain nods his head in agreement, then as he's about to say something, he changes his mind, and instead says "What's happening over there?". 

As a bit of commotion has broken out in the camp away to their left. And few moments later they see a trio hurrying through camp, heading to where the Geist guards are located, along with the command tent. 

"Misa Geist" says captain Marqand who immediately recognizes one of the trio hurrying through camp towards the command tent. 

"They look a bit" says Mira Reinholt the mage, who briefly pauses, before adding "Disheveled" followed by "Harried". 

The other three nod in agreement, then Tam after looking at the trio, who include an elf, and a spellcaster along with the Geist cousin Misa, says "Isn't there usually a group of them?". 

Captain Marqand nods his head, and says "Yeah" he follows that with "About eight of them who usually follow Misa Geist around" he then murmurs "Something's happened". 

They watch as the trio enter the command tent, and even from where they are, about eighty yards away, they can hear shouting coming from within the command tent. 

The four of them look at one another, and know that definitely something has happened to Misa Geist and the group who are always with her. 

A short while later, and a runner from the  command tent comes up to captain Marqand, telling him that the Geist cousins want him and his company moving out as quickly as possible. 

"Ah well, seems our orders are still the same" says the mercenary captain, who then adds "Tam, you and your lot head out" he continues with "The rest of us will be leaving shortly". 

Tamric Drubine the field commander nods, then he and Mira Reinholt the mage and Lisell Maera the scout move away, to get the rest of the group, who are nearby, and ready. 

So they can move out from the camp of the Geists mercenary army, and head north, further into southern Girdane on what's a cold winters day in the hill country that straddles the border between the city-state of Vexil, and the kingdom of Girdane . . . . . .

Mercenary Tales 71.

Vexil. 

Lord Farque looks up at the ceiling above him, sensing those on the floor above. The undead warlord slightly nods his head, then he moves quickly down the hallway he's in. The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque glances up again, then he stops as he senses who is directly above him, moving slower than the others in the long hallway on the top floor of the residential building he's in. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord briefly closes his eyes, then bends his knees slightly, before he leaps straight upwards at the ceiling above him. 

Beldane the cleric doesn't know when it's going to happen, but he knows it is going to happen. And when he senses that Lord Farque is directly below him. 

The fighting cleric in the church of Glaine grimaces to himself as he prepares for what's about to happen. The powerful practitioner of magic braces himself. Just in time to, as the floor beneath him and the cleric of Goran walking beside him, bursts apart, flinging them off their feet as something comes up through the floor beneath them. 

Those at the end of the hallway, who are looking down at the rubble on the floor beneath them, spin around when they hear what's happened further back in the hallway they've cautiously  made their way down. 

There's more than a few winces on faces when they see who is standing down towards the other end of the hallway, near where the stairs are. 

"Shit" says Marcus the mercenary as he voices what they're all thinking as they see the large, dark, heavily armoured figure towards the other end of the hallway. 

Who moves quickly, and grabs the heavily armoured cleric in the church of Goran who is struggling to his feet. 

And before anyone can do anything, the undead being throws the cleric in the church of Goran out through the large opening along one side of the hallway, throwing the cleric in the church of Goran to his death. 

Then the undead creature, turns and looks in their direction. And they all see a flash of blue light in the eye slot of it's full helm as it looks towards them. 

Just then, the cleric Beldane who is getting to his feet, swings his magical mace at the undead being, shouting as he does so. 

There's a bright white flash that lights up that end of the hallway, and when it dissipates, they see the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine, standing there shaking his head as if to clear it. Of the undead creature there's no sign of him. 

Then the powerful practitioner of magic who hails from the kingdom of Nastell, hurries through the doorway to his right, the door of which has been smashed off it's hinges. 

"Hurry!" shouts Margin the wizard, who continues with "Help him!". Referring to the fighting cleric in the half plate armour who is taking on the undead creature single handedly. 

The two other clerics left, one in the church of Famal and the other in the church of Maëlle. Who aren't as far down the hallway as the group of so called mercenaries. 

Start hurrying back the way they've come from, to help the cleric Beldane, who they can hear shouting as he fights the undead being one on one. 

Margin the Vexillian wizard quickly says to the elven maiden Salinéll "If we face it directly, try the same thing again". 

The elven spellcaster from the principality of Alinlae nods her head to that, though she kinda hopes that the cleric Beldane can handle the undead creature, and that they don't have to face it head on. 

"Let's go" says Salinéll the elven maiden to the rest of the group as they see the two clerics, one in the church of Famal and the other in the church of Maëlle, rush through the doorway that the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine went through. 

Then as the group, who have been passing themselves off as mercenaries while here in the city of Vexil start hurrying back down the hallway, which along one side is open to the elements, on this cold winters day. 

They see the cleric Beldane come flying backwards through the doorway he went through, and land in the middle of the hallway, groaning after he hits the floor. 

The next moment the undead being walks through the open doorway and into the hallway, and stops and looks in their direction, staring at them as they've stopped again. Before he grabs the barely moving Beldane by the leg. 

And walks back through the doorway he's just come from, dragging the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine behind him like a sack of potatoes. 

There's no sign of the two other clerics. And when Margin the wizard and Salinéll the elven magic user sense for them, they're unable to sense the cleric in the church of Maëlle, and the cleric in the church of Famal. 

"Grab the sword" quietly says Lord Farque "I'd rather not" mutters Beldane the cleric who gasps as he's winded after being thrown out into the hallway. 

The Nastellian born spellcaster eyes the undead warlord's weapon more than a little wearily as he knows what it means to touch it. Instant death. 

"Fucking wimp" mutters the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who then wryly adds "It won't harm you". 

Then before the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine can say anything else, the lord of the death realm thrusts the massive blade at him. 

Beldane as he lies on the floor of the room they're in, trying to get his breath back, instinctively puts up a gauntleted hand, and tries to push away the sword. 

The powerful spellcaster who hails from the kingdom of Nastell grunts when he touches the blade and nothing happens to him. 

"See" dryly says the deathlord of Farque, who also has the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his lands know him by. 

Who then thrusts the massive sword into the floor, and quietly tells the cleric in the church of Glaine "Keep a hold of it" followed by "Don't let go". 

As he lies there on the floor, Beldane the cleric who has finally got his breath back, nods his head in understanding. While the undead warlord steps by the two dead clerics, one in the church of Maëlle and the other in the church of Famal, and heads back through the doorway into the hallway. 

The two spellcasters, Margin the wizard and Salinéll the elven magic user look at one another, as all of a sudden they can no longer sense the powerful fighting cleric named Beldane. 

Then from behind them they hear Mercer mutter "Fuck". They look ahead again, and they see that the undead creature has walked out into the hallway once more. And is just standing there looking right at them. 

"Hell" quietly says the local born wizard, next to him, the leader of the group, Salinéll the elven maiden nods her head in agreement. 

"We've got no chance against it" quickly says the wizard in the dark red robes. The elven practitioner of magic who hails from the principality of Alinlae is in agreement with that. 

As their only chance to defeat the large, heavily armoured undead being is with the help of the clerics. Especially the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine, Beldane. 

Then before Salinéll can even suggest that they get the hell out of here. The undead creature calls out something. In a language that none in the group recognizes. Which is only natural, as he's not calling out to them. But to someone else close by. 

He's been bidding his time. Standing there in one of the rooms, up here on the fourth floor of the residential building. 

Even when he first smells and hears who's out in the hallway. He's kept still and waited. Knowing that his time is yet to come. 

And when he starts hearing shouting, and an explosion. He continues to wait, though he does move closer to the closed door of the room, that leads out to the hallway. 

He sniffs deeply, and a wide grin appears on his broad, green brutish looking face as he continues to wait. 

And it's not too long before he smells and hears who it is that's stopped right outside the room he's been waiting in. 

The grin gets wider on his feral looking face as he continues to wait, and he doesn't have to wait any longer, for he hears a familiar voice out in the hallway, further back down it, towards the stairs, call out in his native language "Now cunt!". 

The door to the room they've stopped beside in the hallway, smashes apart, and something rather large, heavy, and very green, which smells rather disgusting slams into the group of so called mercenaries. 

It's Marcus who bares the brunt of it, and he goes flying sideways by bits of the smashed door, and whatever it is that's smashed into them. 

They're standing near the massive opening along one side of the hallway, and Marcus is flung out of it with force, shouting in panic as he does so. 

His shout comes to an abrupt end when he smashes into the cobblestones of the street four storey's below. 

It's Kynil the sword mistress who is also badly effected by what's smashed into them. And though she's not flung out the opening in the side of the hallway. 

She ends up half out and half in the hallway, with a broken leg, as she screams in pain, while clinging onto part of hallway wall that's still intact. 

Mercer comes off third worst, as he's clipped by what's run into them from the side. He goes spinning backwards like a top. And drops to the floor, utterly dazed, and groaning in pain with a broken left arm. 

As for the spellcasters Margin and Salinéll, who are out in front. They're jostled forward by Jarkellé the elven warden. 

Who is shoved forward when Marcus went flying out of the opening that runs along much of one side of the fourth floor hallway. 

"What?" says Salinéll the elven magic user, who quickly spins around to see what's happened. And while Margin the wizard stumbles trying to hold up a slightly dazed Jarkellé. 

The elven maiden who hails from the principality of Alinlae who leads the group who have set into motion plans that they hope will bring about a war between the city-state of Vexil and the kingdom of Girdane. Blinks in surprise at what, or to be precise who is standing in the hallway behind them. 

"What?" mutters Salinéll the elven maiden in surprise, who then scowls as she glances at Margin and Jarkellé beside her. "I thought he was dead" says the elven magic user in disgust. 

"What the fuck?" mutters a stunned looking Margin the wizard when he looks up and see who's now in the hallway with them. 

Who has his back to them, as he looking towards where the dazed and groaning Mercer is on the floor, cradling a broken left arm. 

Salinéll spins back the other way, and sees that the large heavily armoured undead creature is now walking this way, stalking them. 

"Flee!" shouts Salinéll the elven magic user who knows they have no chance of surviving this encounter with the the undead being and who else has suddenly appeared in the hallway with them. 

Ignoring the pleading screams of help from Kynil the sword mistress. Salinéll quickly glances out of the opening in the hallway beside them and teleports away. 

An instant later, she's followed by Margin the wizard, with the Vexillian born spellcaster teleporting himself away as well, taking Jarkellé the elven warden with him. 

Lying on his side on the floor, with his wits barely there. Mercer groans again as he cradles his broken left arm. 

The so called mercenary is pretty sure that there's something broken inside too. Most likely ribs by the feel of things. 

He screws up his face in pain, then opens his eyes when he hears what sounds like Kynil screaming in pain, suddenly come to an end. 

And though he's dazed, he sees the sword mistress who is half in, and half out of the opening along the side of the hallway, fall out to the street four storey's below. Suddenly Mercer isn't so dazed as he sees who it is that's just kicked Kynil in the head, killing her. 

"You're dead" gasps a disbelieving Mercer as he looks at the massive figure standing in the hallway who is now looking at him. 

"No me not cunt" says Dorc da Orc who grins as he looks at the so called mercenary, lying there on the floor, cradling a broken arm. 

"Oh you got a sore fucken arm?" says the large ork in a conversational tone, who then takes an axe from his weapon harness. 

Ironically, or unironically depending on your point of view. The exact same axe that was used to chop off the ork warleaders left arm not so long ago. 

"How?" mumbles Mercer in disbelief who is more than a little stunned to say the least, that the ork named Dorc is whole again, and alive. After he chopped it's left arm off, and shoved a spear through it's throat, pinning it to the wall of the underground chamber where he and the others left it. 

"Why don't me fucken fix it for ya" says the ork weaponsmith referring to the so called mercenary's broken arm. He grabs the prone Mercer, and with one lazy swing, chops off his left arm. 

Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, chuckles as Mercer lies there in the middle of the hallway, screaming in pain. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world then proceeds to take down his knee length grubby paints, telling the screaming Mercer "Cunt me told you what me's was gonna fucken do to you for cutting me arm off". 

Then as the large ork starts taking a shit on Mercer, who vomits. The so called mercenary in the last moments of his life. 

Blinks in disbelief, as he sees walking down the hallway to where he and the ork named Dorc are. The large heavily armoured undead creature, with the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine, Beldane, walking beside him. 

"What the fuck?" mumbles Mercer who in pain, losing copious amounts of blood, while shit is sprayed across him, continues mumbling with "What's happening here?" . . . . . .