Mercenary Tales 36.

Vexil. 

"An elf?" mutters Lord Farque with a frown upon his youthful looking face that's hidden behind the faceplate of his full helm. 

"That's" says Beldane the cleric who overhead the undead warlord "Odd" adds the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque looks at the powerful practitioner of magic who hails from the kingdom of Nastell, and nods in agreement with him. 

They're in an empty lane behind an old abandoned temple, where they've just dumped the mage Fendal. 

The member of the mage council of Vexil is alive, but unconscious. Though he reeks of wine, much to the displeasure of Dorc da Orc who stands nearby. 

The large ork is more than a little pissed off that Lord Farque took the bottle of wine he was drinking from, and poured most of it over the mage they had captured after questioning him, then rendering him unconscious thanks to a spell from Beldane. 

"Come on Dorc" says the large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque, who then adds in the ork language "We're going cunt". 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque who also has the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his nation know him by. 

Leads the way along the lane, with the cleric in the half plate armour walking beside him. While the ork warleader, with one last look of disgust at the unconscious mage they questioned, follows after the pair of humans. 

"Think they're an intermediary?" quietly asks Beldane, who follows that with "Working for someone else maybe?". 

"Maybe" quietly says the lord of the death realm, who after a pause adds "Though that mage did mention that he's fairly certain she's a magic user" followed by "Noble elves tend to not let others tell them what to do". 

The undead warlord then dryly adds "It's a miracle I can get that royal fucking thief to do anything I tell him". 

The fighting cleric in the church of Glaine smiles at that as they make their way from the lane behind the old abandoned temple, and turn left onto a street. 

"With that giant hole in the middle of the forest up north" says the Nastellian born spellcaster, who then switches to the elven language as he adds "As well as that old abandoned dwarven mine up there that's been reworked recently". 

Beldane has learnt that it's best not to mention anything dwarven related in the common language with Dorc da Orc close by. 

"Even I know, that's something an elf wouldn't do" says the fighting cleric who has switched back to common, who follows that with "Or even be associated with". 

Draugodrottin nods his full helmed head in agreement with that, then he quietly says "Like you said" followed by "Odd". 

The two of them fall silent as they start to encounter more people on the streets of this fairly quiet neighbourhood they're in. 

Though people tend to keep clear of them, as they're more than a little intimidating. Not to mention that Dorc da Orc is completely frightening to most people he encounters. 

After a little while, and after the undead warlord had to grab the ork weaponsmith and haul him away because he caught the scent of some dwarves passing by a few streets away to the south of them. 

Des'tier which is Lord Farque's elven name, which translates to The Destroyer, quietly says to the member of the church of Glaine "There's no elves on the ruling council at the moment according to what young Calmond Reinholt told us". 

The large heavily armoured deathlord continues with "So we can rule them out for now" he follows that with "So they're most likely a merc or something similar". 

The powerful cleric nods in agreement with that, as that seems to the most likely answer to what they've found out. 

But Beldane knows there's still one fairly important thing they've yet to find out, and he quietly asks the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque "But why?". 

The lord of the death realm just grunts at that. Then making sure that Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, continues to follow closely behind them. 

Draugodrottin points to a lane that cuts between two streets, as they head southwards towards the center of the city of Vexil. On what's a cold winter's day here in the capital of the city-state. 

It's mid morning, and they've stopped at a wine shop. More to keep Dorc da Orc occupied than anything else. 

And as the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque purchases a number of casks of wine. 

Much to the pleasure of the shop owner, who at first was scared witless at the presence of the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world in his shop. 

Des'tier quietly says in the elven language to the fighting cleric "Since she's bribing a member of the mage council, we can assume she's more than likely involved in other criminal activity". 

The large heavily armoured deathlord who is keeping an eye on Dorc, quietly continues with "Especially considering all that new digging for gold up in the hill country near the border". 

Beldane slightly nods, then he quietly says in the same language "Think that's all it is?" followed by "A hunt for gold?". 

As he knows you don't really need to have permission to mine in a city-state like Vexil, or pay taxes. 

Compared to a kingdom like Girdane. Where you'd have to pay taxes to the local noble whose land the mine is on, as well as pay the crown. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque slightly shakes his full helmed head, then quietly replies with "No" followed by "Not with that elaborate plan that set up the Geist cousins and their paid for army". 

Draugodrottin continues with "Though the gold is probably helping to fund whatever she's up to" he then adds "Especially if she's on the outer with her house, and doesn't have access to their wealth". 

Beldane nods, then quietly asks the deathlord of Farque "You know which house she's in?" followed by "Which principality she's from?". 

"I will once we find out her actual name" is the quiet reply of Des'tier as they stand near the front door of the wine shop, watching Dorc da Orc, who has started haggling with the shop owner over the prices of the various casks he's intending to buy. 

The powerful cleric looks at the undead warlord with a raised eyebrow, and the fighting cleric slightly nods when the lord of the death realm quietly tells him "That name she gave the mage Fendal is obviously fake". 

"What does it mean?" quietly asks the cleric in the church of Glaine, who follows on from that with "I have absolutely no idea when it comes to the noble elven language". 

"Salinéll" quietly says Lord Farque, who continues with "That means, Not Me" he then adds "No elf would name their child that, she's using a play on words to use a fake name". 

Beldane nods, then after glancing out the front window of the shop, the powerful practitioner of magic from the kingdom of Nastell quietly asks "Are you?". 

"I am" says Des'tier as he quietly interrupts the fighting cleric "There's a hell of a lot of spellcasters in the city" dryly adds the lord of the death realm. 

"Tell me about it" dryly says the powerful cleric, who like the undead warlord, is sensing as far and wide as possible, for an elven magic user. 

But unlike Beldane, Draugodrottin can easily sense any practitioner of magic who wants to be hidden from other spellcasters. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord can easily identify the race of the spellcaster, and their sex too. 

"There's thousands of casters in the city" quietly says the member of the church of Glaine, who continues with "And not just at the Mage College". 

Lord Farque nods his hooded head in agreement, then quietly says "Most anywhere in The Southlands" he then adds "More even than Brattonbury which has more people there". 

The undead warlord then quietly tells the fighting cleric in the half plate armour "Concentrate on the eastern quarter of the city" followed by "Elves like to stay there due to the forest groves there, and the ones beyond the wall that way". 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque continues with "I'll concentrate on the rest of the city, just in case she's out and about this morning". 

Beldane nods, then senses eastwards, trying to locate any elven magic user, who like all elves who can cast, is noble born. 

The powerful cleric just hopes this so called Salinéll isn't holding her power within herself. As it'll be impossible for him to locate her if she is. 

No such problems for Lord Farque who can locate any spellcaster no matter what. And after a few moments, Des'tier is able to sense a number of elven magic users in the city of Vexil. And five of them are female. 

The lord of the death realm slightly narrows his eyelids as he concentrates, then nods his full helmed head and quietly tells Beldane "Found her". 

As one of the five female elven nobles in the capital of the city-state, is actively hiding herself from other spellcasters with a magical item she has in her possession. 

"Dorc, pay the cunt" says Draugodrottin in the ork language, who continues in orkish with "We're fucking going". 

Beldane the cleric opens the front door of the wine shop and steps outside into the cold wind of this winter's day. 

He's followed by Lord Farque and eventually Dorc da Orc, who after grumbling, just chucks down a bunch of coins on the counter top. Way more than what the half a dozen wooden casks of wine he's got are actually worth. 

"West" says the deathlord of Farque, who ignores the muttered "Not north" from Dorkindle, and leads the way to the right down the street the wine shop is on. 

Gesturing upwards, the lord of the death realm tells the fighting cleric "Look for a suitable tower or tall building". 

Beldane nods in understanding, then sourly smiles as behind them, Dorc da Orc says "There, a fucken tower" .

The large ork is pointing at the Mage Tower of Vexil, which dominates the center of the capital of the city-state. 

"Not that one cunt" dryly says Des'tier in orkish, who then points, and in common says to the cleric in the church of Glaine "There". 

Beldane nods, then after the ork warleader gets closer, he teleports the three of them to the top of a tower that's not too far away. 

On top of the tower, and as the cold wind buffers them, they look westwards across the city of Vexil. 

After a few moments, Lord Farque points in the distance towards the west wall of the city, and says "Somewhere near the wall there". 

Draugodrottin is about to say something else, but he pauses for a moment, then suddenly mutters "Fuck". 

He follows that with "Rift" the large heavily armoured deathlord continues with "She's just gone through with some others" followed by "A pair of elves, and six humans, two of whom are spellcasters". 

And as Dorc da Orc starts drinking from the spigot of one of the wine casks he's just purchased, Beldane quietly says to the undead warlord "Which way is the other side of that rift" he then adds "I couldn't sense anything". 

"North" is the reply from the lord of the death realm, who follows on from that with "Just over a couple hundred miles away". 

The fighting cleric nods in understanding, then quietly says "The hill country" he then adds "The border region" . . . . . .

Mercenary Tales 35.

The City Of Vexil. 

"What the fuck we doin'?" asks Dorc da Orc who sighs when no one answers him immediately. The large ork is about to repeat himself, when Lord Farque replies with "Waiting". 

And before the ork warleader can ask, waiting for what? The undead warlord tells him in the ork language "A mage cunt". 

The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then he sits down on the rubble of a partially broken wall that runs along one side of the alleyway they're in this cold winter's morning. 

While the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, along with Beldane the cleric continue to look out of end of the alleyway they're located in. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque quietly says "Bit of movement going on in there". 

Next to the undead being, the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine nods his head when lord Farque quietly tells him "Think he's just realized some of his hired help isn't returning". 

Then the lord of the death realm turns his head, and looks to the other end of the alleyway. Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, looks that way too. 

And a few moments later a pair of men, carrying wooden crates, labourers by the looks of it. Walk into the alleyway. 

They immediately stop when they catch sight of the trio at the other end of the alleyway. They quickly back away, then turn and hurry away. When the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque, starts growling at them. 

The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts in satisfaction, while the undead warlord looks back out the alleyway once again. 

Down the street to their right, and across it. Stands one of nicer residences in this area of one of the more exclusive neighbourhoods in the north of the city of Vexil. 

And though the street is quiet, they soon hear yelling coming from the nice home they've been observing for the last little while. 

"I want them found!" shouts someone angrily from across the street, followed by "I don't care how you do it, just find the lazy so and so's". 

There's a brief pause, followed by a shout of "Is that understood!". And though Beldane can't hear the reply, both Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc hear the anxious reply of "Yes mage Fendal" from someone. 

"He's coming out" quietly says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who also has the name of Draugodrottin that his people know him by. 

Across the street, the sound of the front door can be heard opening. They can't see it, because there's a ten foot tall brick wall that surrounds the entire residence. 

But they soon see a figure in a black cloak walk to the open gates in the wall, where a pair of private guards stand at attention. 

Both the deathlord of Farque and the fighting cleric, who is holding his power within himself, step further back into the alleyway. 

As they hear across the street "If those damn goblins finally return from the morning markets, send word to me" followed by "I'll be attending council throughout the morning and into the afternoon". 

"Yes mage Fendal" replies one of the two guards at the gates of the rather luxurious residence across the street, and to the right. 

Beldane the cleric shares a look when Lord Farque, who slightly nods his head to across the street. 

Then a few moments later the man in the black cloak walks by on the other side of the street. He doesn't even glance towards the alleyway on this side of the street. 

As he's too busy muttering away to himself about how difficult it is to get decent hired help nowadays. 

"Dorc let's go" quietly says the undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer. 

After looking away to the right, and seeing that the pair of private guards at the open gates of the residence they've been observing aren't looking this way, as they're busy chatting away to each other, about the gossip they've heard in the opulent house they work in. 

The trio of Lord Farque, Beldane the cleric and Dorc da Orc, exit the alleyway, and turn left. And head in the same direction that the mage Fendal is going, on this cold winter's morning, here in the capital of the city-state of Vexil. 

As they walk through the residential streets in this part of the city, the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine shares a look with the large, heavily armoured deathlord of Farque walking beside him. 

"I don't fancy taking on a mage" murmurs Beldane the cleric, who continues with "Even a distracted one, like he is at the moment". 

As up ahead, the mage Fendal, who is still disgruntled that some of his goblin servants haven't returned from the early morning markets. 

Turns into another street, as he heads south towards the city center, where both the ruling council building, but more importantly, the Mage Tower, where the mage council meets, is located. 

"Don't worry about it" quietly says Draugodrottin, who quietly follows that with "I'll deal with him". The undead warlord glances back, and in orkish says "Keep up cunt" he adds in the same language "We're going to get a cunt". 

Dorc da Orc grunts as he follows behind the two humans who are walking in front of him, as they cross the street, then turn the corner to the right. 

One moment the mage Fendal, a member of the mage council of Vexil, is taking his usual walk to the Mage Tower. 

He could easily teleport there from his house, but he prefers to walk in the mornings, even a cold winter's morning like it is here today. 

And the next moment as he passes the entrance to a quiet lane, that leads to the busier part of the area of the city he's making his way through. 

Everything goes black as he suddenly falls into subconsciousness. It happens so quick that even with his sharp honed magical reflexes, he can't react. 

The mage Fendal groans as he comes awake, the powerful practitioner of magic, who was born and raised here in the city of Vexil. Hears a voice say to him "Don't cast" followed in a dry tone with "And don't fucking do that". 

Fendal opens his eyes, then blinks in surprise as he sees the mageglobe he just created, in the gauntleted hand of the rather large, not to mention heavily armoured figure standing in front of him. 

"Fuck" mutters Fendal the mage, who blinks a few times in disbelief as the large, heavily armoured individual just closes his gauntleted hand, and around the mageglobe. 

Which should of already exploded outwards from Fendal, destroying everything in the immediate vicinity, and leaving him unharmed. Just disappears, as though it never existed. 

The member of Vexil's mage council, who is sitting on a chair in a room, with his wrists bound behind his back. 

Is gob smacked at what he's just seen. As he knows of no one, or thing, who can just make a mageglobe disappear like that. 

Fendal, a man in his early forties, who was once rather lean, but is now slightly overweight. It's why he walks to the Mage Tower in the mornings, and not teleport there. 

Sees movement out of the corner of his eye, which gives him pause, because it's so big. The mage frowns as sees it's a troll. Though a rather demented, and feral looking one at that. As it sits in the corner of the room he's held in. 

Fendal who is also certain there's someone else behind him, as he thinks he can hear somebody behind the chair he's on. 

Looks sharply at the large heavily armoured individual standing a few feet away in front of him, who says "So, taking bribes" followed by "I rather doubt the rest of the mage council will be pleased when they find out about that". 

"How" says the mage Fendal, who falls silent when the large figure in the dark blue, black armour holds up a gauntleted hand, then says to him "Save your excuses for someone else". 

He then adds "And don't do that" and slaps the tied up mage across the face, as he adds "I told you not to cast". 

Fendal, who was just about to cast, grimaces from the slap across the face, and drops the spell he was thinking of casting. 

"Good" says the large heavily armoured figure, who the Vexilian mage thinks is either an avenger or dark knight of some kind. 

"Now I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them truthfully" says the large individual, who follows on from that with "I'll know if you're lying or not". 

The dark knight continues with "If you lie" he gestures at the large green creature sitting in the corner, and adds "My ork friend there will start cutting chunks off you, and eat them in front of your face". 

The mage Fendal flinches at the mention of an ork. As no one in their right mind, would be caught dead hanging around one of those rare, not to mention psychotic creatures. 

The Vexilian spellcaster looks at the creature which stands up, and he sees it's definitely not a troll, because it's not as tall as a troll. But it's bulkier than any troll he's ever seen. 

Not to mention it's got a wild demented look upon it's feral looking face, and it's starting to droll as it looks at him with a wild look in it's eyes. 

Fendal gulps and takes his eyes off what he's definitely certain is an ork, and nods his head when the large heavily armoured figure interrogating him says "If you answer truthfully, we'll let you go, and you won't remember any of this at all". 

The member of the mage council of Vexil, nods again when his interrogator says to him "Understood?". 

"Right then" says Lord Farque, who after a slight pause asks the mage they've captured "Who paid you to send some aircorp vessels, and a detachment from the one of the armies north?" followed by "To wipe out any threat that came across the border from Girdane?". 

The mage Fendal licks his lips nervously as he doesn't particularly want to answer that. But one more glance at the drooling ork who is staring at him intently. 

The member of the mage council of Vexil starts answering, truthfully, the questions put to him by his captors . . . . . .