Springtime In The City 90.

Vexil. 

The three of them stop, and look at one another. With Zam the ex mercenary eventually saying "Er?" quickly followed by "What was that?". 

"Pretty fucking obvious that was an explosion" says Lisell Maera the scout, Dorc da Orc grunts in agreement with the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury. 

The scout leader who is a junior officer in the Armies of Farque, is just about to say something else. 

When they hear another explosion, this one far louder than the first one they just heard a few moments ago. 

The three of them look at one another again, then the scout Maera dryly says "Mira". Nodding his head in agreement, Zam the ex mercenary dryly says "Definitely Mira". 

Dorc da Orc with a sour looking expression on his broad green brutish looking face, just grunts in agreement with the two humans. 

"That one was fairly close too" says the youngest member of the group, who then looks at the large ork as he adds "I think?". 

"Nah, still a bit away" replies Dorc da Orc, who continues on from that with "Some magicky cunts tryin' to fucken kill each other". 

"Definitely Mira then" says Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well. 

"And that Garmen most likely" adds the attractive young woman who is in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque. 

Just then, Zam looks up to the buildings on the right of the narrow street they're on, and spotting something, or to be exact, someone, he says "There's Axe". 

Both the scout Maera and the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world look up and see the massive undead wardog on a nearby rooftop, looking down at the three of them as they stand in front of a shop, that's boarded up after going out of business recently. 

"Come on" says Lisell Maera, who then adds "We better follow him" as the undead wardog leaps to another rooftop, then stops and looks back down at them on this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil. 

Lord Farque who was just about to leap up onto the roof of the tall building at the southern end of the long street, and kill the mage Garmen. 

Sourly smiles behind the faceplate of his full helm, when Mira Reinholt's mageglobe explodes just after Garmen the elder quickly levitates into the air. 

The undead warlord can jump up high into the air, but he can't leap over three hundred feet straight up into the sky. 

Which is where the member of the Mage Council of Vexil ends up, and part of the upwards expanding magical explosion catches the mage Garmen. 

"Fuckheads" mutters Lord Farque referring to both mages who are in the midst of a mage battle, here in the northern neighbourhoods of the city of Vexil. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord who senses that Garmen the senior is going to survive that large explosion, thanks to the hastily erected wards he's put up around himself. 

Quickly looks northwards, and starts heading that way along what's definitely the longest street in this part of the city. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque ignores the people running in fear, trying to get away from what's happening. 

As he crosses the street at speed, heading towards the building that Mira Reinholt is on top of at the moment. 

The lord of the death realm who has the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his lands also know him by. 

Also ignores another explosion, at the northern end of the long street, where another of Garmen the elder's mageglobes has just exploded right next to the illusion of the short stocky fellow named Covar, that's been created by one of Mira Reinholt's mageglobes. 

Taking a deep breath as he floats a few hundred feet above the city streets, with fire and red magical energy swirling up and around him. 

Garmen the elder who is more than a little pleased that his wards have kept him alive. Senses another of his mageglobes somewhere towards the northern end of the long street, explode. 

The powerful Vexillian spellcaster who can't see that way at the moment, in fact he can't see much of anything apart from fire and magical energy. 

Hopes that piece of living magic was successful, and took out Mira Reinholt, who he's in the middle of a mage battle at this moment. 

Then the member of the Mage Council of Vexil grunts in disappointment, as he realizes that the effects of this mageglobe explosion he finds himself in the middle of. Would instantly disappear if Mira Reinholt was dead. 

"Maybe he's incapacitated instead" murmurs Garmen the elder, who follows on from that with "Hopefully". 

As the swirling flames and red energy start to dissipate from around him, and then quickly disappear as the explosion finally dies down. 

As he levitates up in the morning sky, Garmen the senior looks down, and grunts as he sees the rooftop of the tall building he was on, is still in one piece, and doesn't look to be damaged in anyway. 

The powerful practitioner of magic who is a born and raised Vexillian, slightly nods to himself in appreciation at that from Mira Reinholt. 

As Garmen himself would be hard pressed to create a mageglobe that directed all of its explosive energy upwards like the one that Mira Reinholt created that almost caught the mage Garmen unawares. 

The member of the Mage Council of Vexil then looks quickly to the north, looking to see what his second mageglobe did. 

He doesn't see anything of the explosion, but he does spot the third of the trio of mageglobes he sent in pursuit of the disguised Mira Reinholt. 

Drop down out of sight behind a building, Garmen senses that it must still be pursuing that short stocky, youngish looking fellow who he knows, or to be precise, he thinks is the traitor, the mage Reinholt. 

Not wanting to get caught unawares again by a mageglobe from Mira Reinholt. The mage Garmen floats northwards, keeping a close eye. Well, to be exact. His magical senses are keeping a close watch for any other mageglobe that the exiled Vexillian mage might send his way as they continue their mage battle. 

Here in the neighbourhoods to be found in the north of the city of Vexil, on what's turned out to be a fairly fine spring mooring. 

Slightly popping his head up to look over the low wall that goes around the edge of the rooftop he's on at the moment. 

Mira Reinholt the mage looks to the opposite side of the street, then to the south. And he spots the mage Garmen in the morning sky, towards the southern end of what's the longest street in this part of the city of Vexil. Seemingly unharmed from the explosion that just engulfed him. 

"Shit" sourly mutters Mira Reinholt the mage, who as Garmen the elder was in the middle of that explosion from his mageglobe coming to the end of it's existence. 

Cast an invisibility spell upon himself, just in case the member of the Mage Council of Vexil survived that explosion. 

And whilst up in the sky a few hundred feet above the ground, looked this way, and spotted the once powerful mage. 

Mira who just hopes to hell that he's actually invisible, as he can't really tell because all he sees is the Greater Illusion spell that Helbe the elven thief put on him. 

He watches as the powerful Vexillian spellcaster he's in the middle of a mage battle with, floats northwards, above the buildings on the opposite side of the street from where Mira is at the moment. 

The mage Reinholt who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, slightly nods as he watches Garmen the senior, and figures the member of the Mage Council of Vexil is making his way to where his remaining mageglobe is after the illusion of the short stocky fellow named Covar, which was created by one Mira Reinholt's own mageglobes. 

The Vexillian mage in exile watches as the mage Garmen goes by the building directly opposite to the one the mage Reinholt is on top of this morning. 

Completely unaware that his opponent in the mage battle here in the north of the city of Vexil is fairly close. 

The once powerful spellcaster, who was more powerful than any other mage of his generation, not just here in his homeland of Vexil, but right across The Southlands. 

Until he lost the bulk of his powers when he miscast a rift spell, which created a void, that sent him offworld a number of years ago. 

Decides against quickly creating another mageglobe to send after Garmen the elder. Instead he continues to closely watch the member of the Mage Council of Vexil. Waiting for a more opportune time to attack the powerful local spellcaster. 

Who thinks he killed his son, Garmen the younger. Back in the winter, up in the hill country of the north of the city-state. During a border incursion by a mercenary army. 

"Damn elf getting me in the shit" the exiled Vexillian mage mutters to himself referring to Helbe the elven thief, who was one who actually killed Garmen the younger. 

The practitioner of magic who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, with his head just above the low wall that goes around the edge of the roof he's on. 

Continues to watch the mage Garmen who is making his way northwards above the buildings on the other side of the long street. 

The mage Reinholt who sees Garmen the elder about to reach the building where Mira's mageglobe created the Illusion spell of Covar. 

Suddenly hears something behind him, like a metal thump. He goes to turn his head, when he's suddenly grabbed and hauled to his feet. 

"Time to go mage" says the familiar voice of Lord Farque, who much to the relief of Mira Reinholt, is the one holding him by the right arm. 

And before the once powerful mage, who indeed is invisible, but not to the undead warlord, can say anything to the large heavily armoured deathlord. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates as, The Destroyer in the common language. 

Leaps off the rooftop they're on, holding firm to b the right arm of the Vexillian born spellcaster, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster. 

Standing in the alleyway behind the building he was just on top of, the mage Reinholt after rubbing his arm where Draugodrottin held it, says to the lord of the death realm "That Garmen is after me". 

After a slight pause, the once powerful mage who is a member of Lord Farque's personal council continues with "He won't be satisfied until he kills me". 

"I know," dryly says the large heavily armoured deathlord, who continues on from that with "Lucky for you, he's got a hard on for that stupid illusion that fucking mageglobe of yours created". 

The undead warlord follows that with "He's too busy with that at the moment, to actually fucking hunt you down and kill you". 

Good to fucking know, the mage Reinholt thinks to himself, who then grunts when Des'tier tells him "But there's still one little problem". 

"Oh?" says the practitioner of magic who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation to be found in The Southlands. 

"What's that?" asks the spellcaster who is a member of the family that owns one of, if not, the largest trading company in not just Vexil, but in all The Southlands. 

"Sense that way" says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who gestures away to their left, here in the alleyway. 

The mage Reinholt does so, and grunts when the lord of the death realm tells him in a slightly dry tone of voice "Downwards too". 

The exiled Vexillian practitioner of magic does so, and after a few moments, he frowns then says "Is that a". 

"It is" interrupts the large heavily armoured deathlord, who then dryly adds "It fucking studied you, and saw what you were doing with yours". 

The undead warlord continues on from that with "Now it's trying to sneak up on you" followed by "Then target you for that fucking cunt, Garmen". 

Mira Reinholt grunts, then he says "We should probably get out of here" which Draugodrottin ignores for the moment. 

Then the lord of the death realm says "Not quite yet" Des'tier pauses for a moment or two, before adding "We actually want it to target you". 

"We do?" asks the once powerful mage, who hurriedly adds "No we don't". The only reply to that from the undead warlord is a grunt. 

The mage Reinholt sourly smiles when he goes to move, and the deathlord of Farque takes a hold of him so that he can't go anywhere. 

"I hope you know what you're doing?" sourly says the Vexillian mage in exile, which gets him a sideways glance down at him from the large heavily armoured deathlord. 

The swordmaster Reinholt just sighs, as he just stands there and waits. He doesn't have to wait long. 

As a few moments later, a small ball of bright white light comes up from the ground just in front of the two of them. 

It's a mageglobe, a slow moving one. It's the second of the mage Garmen's living pieces of magic tasked to locate, and target Mira Reinholt the mage. 

The small mageglobe almost does a slight jump of delight, and is raises up above the two of them, and when it's above the level of the rooftop the mage Reinholt was previously on. 

The white beam of light emits from it, beaming down upon the two of them, well to be exact, upon the practitioner of magic who is in the middle of a mage battle with Garmen the elder. 

Lord Farque lets go of Mira Reinholt, then leaps up thirty feet, and grabs the floating mageglobe out of the air. Which is more than a little startled to be in the right gauntleted hand of the undead warlord, who drops back to the ground. 

"Beats running around for that fucking mage" sourly says Draugodrottin, who holds the mageglobe up, letting it emit it's bright beam of white light up into the air. 

"You can piss off now" says lord of the death realm, who continues with "He won't find you, now that I've got this". 

The once powerful mage nods to that, then after the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque gives him directions to where the undead wardog Axe is leading Zam the ex mercenary, Lisell Maera the scout and Dorc da Orc. 

Mira Reinholt heads off, walking out of the alleyway. While behind him, Lord Farque with the mageglobe in his hand, emitting a beam of white light into the air. Waits for Garmen the elder to show up on this relatively fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil . . . . . . 

Springtime In The City 89.

The City Of Vexil. 

Looking back down the street they've come from, wondering if any city guardsmen will show up and try to arrest Dorc da Orc again. 

Zam the ex mercenary looks up at the buildings to either side of them, trying to spot the undead wardog Axe. 

"Where's Axe?" asks Zam the ex mercenary when he's unable to find the massive animal who has been leading them through this part of the city of Vexil. 

"Not sure" replies Lisell Maera the scout who has stopped, and is also looking for the undead wardog. 

"He was going along the rooftops over there" adds the attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.

The scout leader in the Armies of Farque who has just gestured away to the right, continues with "Can't seem to see him now". 

Lisell Maera or Lis as more often than not she's called by those who know her well, looks at the large ork who is breathing fairly heavily after spending a bit of time running around this morning. 

"Dorc where's Axe?" asks the scout Maera, who after gesturing away to their right, adds "He still that way?". 

The ork warleader grunts, then looks away to the right. As he does, he repeatedly sniffs, then he tilts his head to one side. 

A sure sign to both Lis and Zam that the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, is carefully listening with his naturally enhanced hearing. 

After grunting again, Dorc da Orc says "Yeah" the ork weaponsmith follows that with "That fucken way". 

The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, points away to the right, and he says "The big doggy up there". 

The large ork whose actual name is Dorkindle, sniffs a few more times, before continuing with "Farque that fucken way as well" followed by "Fucken more than the doggy" in response to the scout Maera asking him "How much further away is Lord Farque?". 

The attractive young woman who hails from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, and the teenager who is originally from The City Of Ruins share a look. 

Then Lis who is a junior officer in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque, says "Guess we're going that way then" as she gestures away to the opposite side of the street, and further beyond it. 

"Come on then" says the scout Maera to the other two, one of whom, Tam. Nods in response to that. 

And the other, Dorc. Who grunts to that from the scout leader, who first met the others in the group when she was barely twelve years old. On the streets of the city of Brattonbury. 

Lis hurries across the fairly empty street. That only has a handful of people on it, apart from the three of them. 

Zam along with Dorc da Orc follow after the attractive young woman originally from the coast of The Southlands. 

Who is heading to a narrow lane between a couple of the buildings on the right side of the street. 

On what's turned out to be a fairly mild, and relatively sunny spring day here in the city of Vexil. 

In the neighbourhood to the east, here in the north of the city of Vexil. Lord Farque pauses as he senses who is heading in this direction from the west. 

The undead warlord slightly nods to himself, as he continues along the street he's on. Making his way towards a lane, just up ahead on the right. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord has dropped down to the ground after going from rooftop to rooftop while approaching the mage Garmen. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque doesn't want the member of the Mage Council of Vexil catching sight of him as he gets closer. 

Draugodrottin to give him his name that the people of his lands also know him by, is sensing in all directions. 

And he knows that both Garmen the elder and Mira Reinholt the mage aren't all that far away from him now. 

"What are you up to mage?" Lord Farque murmurs to himself once he enters the lane, and makes his way down to the other end of it. 

The lord of the death realm who can sense the mage Reinholt on a nearby rooftop, slowly creating a mageglobe. 

Behind the face plate of his full helm, the undead warlord slightly frowns, then he grunts to himself as he realizes what the once powerful mage is up to. 

Distraction? Lord Farque thinks to the Sword of Power Ryn, who is strapped to the back of the large heavily armoured deathlord. 

Yes my lord, replies Ryn the Sword of Power, who continues on from that with, an illusion. 

"That mage is finally learning to be fucking subtle after all of these years" dryly mutters the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means The Destroyer in the common language. 

The deathlord of Farque looks out of the end of the lane, and to his right along what's probably the longest street in this area of the city. 

The undead warlord looks to the far end to the right, where stands what's most likely the tallest building in this part of the city. 

On top of it, he spots the mage Garmen the elder, who is walking around, trying to locate his quarry, who is Mira Reinholt. 

Lord Farque then quickly looks to his left, at the other end of the long street, and one of the buildings there. 

On the roof of which a few moments later, appears the short stocky fellow by the name of Covar. Who after a slight pause, starts running across the roof he's on. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord slightly snorts in amusement, then murmurs "The fucking idiot is going to fall for it". 

Draugodrottin looks quickly to the right again, where on the tall building at that end of the long street. 

He sees Garmen the elder, quickly turn around, then create a trio of mageglobes, one after the other, which he sends off towards the fellow named Covar at the other end of the long street. 

"Yep" murmurs the undead warlord, who follows that with shake of his full helmed head, and adds "Fucking idiot". 

As the trio of mageglobes shoot across the rooftops on the opposite side of the street from the lane he's in. 

The lord and ruler of Lands Farque slightly nods to himself as he senses what Mira Reinholt, who isn't all that far away from Garmen the elder. Has just done. 

The once powerful mage who is a member of Lord Farque's personal council, has just created another mageglobe. 

Which is moving relatively slowly, heading towards Garmen the senior. Who is too preoccupied to notice it. 

As he's watching his latest trio of mageglobes, head towards the short stocky, and youngish looking fellow named Covar. 

Des'tier steps out of the lane, and turns right, and starts to head down the long street. The deathlord of Farque starts moving at a jog, which quickly turns into a run as he heads to the tallest building in this part of the north of the city of Vexil. 

Mira Reinholt the mage is peeking over the top of the low wall that goes around the edge of the roof he's on. 

The exiled Vexillian mage sees the trio of mageglobes created by Garmen the senior, shooting across the rooftops not all that far away from where he is on the opposite side of the street. 

Heading towards the short, stocky fellow named Covar. Well, essentially an illusion of him, created by a mageglobe that Mira Reinholt brought to life. 

Covar who runs, then leaps across to the roof of the building next to the one he appeared on. The short stocky fellow, almost doesn't make it. 

And the local spellcaster, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, nods to himself. Pleased to see that his mageglobe is making things look difficult for the fellow named Covar. 

The practitioner of magic who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in The Southlands. 

Until losing the bulk of his powers a number of years ago when a spell of his went wrong, which sent him offworld through a rift/void. 

Quickly looks to the tallest building in the area, on the roof of which, is the member of the Mage Council of Vexil, Garmen the elder who is hell bent on killing Mira. 

Another of the exiled Vexillian mage's living pieces of magic, is heading towards that rooftop, and the powerful practitioner of magic who is on top of it. 

"Stay dumb to it" Mira Reinholt the mage murmurs to himself as he watches the mage Garmen, while sensing his other mageglobe that's heading towards the member of the Mage Council of Vexil who wants him dead. 

Garmen the elder watches his latest batch of mageglobes head along the rooftops in front of him. 

Heading towards the short, stocky appearing fellow, that he knows is not who they appear to be. The member of the Mage Council of Vexil is certain that person is really Mira Reinholt the mage. Traitor to the city-state of Vexil, who was exiled from his homeland during the war known as The Battle of Vexil a quarter of a century ago. 

Garmen the elder couldn't care less that the mage Reinholt was given a reprieve about a decade ago, due to him helping to stop an impending war between Vexil and it's rival, the city-state of Tuledare. 

A reprieve that allows Mira Reinholt to visit Vexil whenever he likes. Though the exiled Vexillian mage is still not allowed to live in his homeland, or stay for an extended period of time. 

Garmen the senior slightly nods to himself as he sees his mageglobes, one after another, start to rapidly approach the short, stocky and youngish looking fellow who is his target. 

"Not this time Mira" mutters Garmen the elder who is so hell bent on chasing down the mage Reinholt and killing him, because he thinks he's responsible for his son's death. Who died during the winter up in hill country of northern Vexil, in a border incursion by a mercenary army. 

The powerful practitioner of magic who is a member of The Mage Council of Vexil nods to himself as he stands upon what's undoubtedly the tallest building in this part of the city of Vexil. 

"Got him" murmurs the mage Garmen with a satisfied smile upon his face as his mageglobes get closer and closer to their target. 

And after the short, stocky and youngish looking fellow leaps to another rooftop, almost falling to the ground as he does so. 

Garmen the elder as he looks to the far end of the long street, nods in satisfaction as one of his recently created mageglobes, gets fairly close to it's intended target, and explodes. 

The explosion isn't large, infact it's quite small, but it is powerful, and extremely bright. And for a moment or two, the mage Garmen can't see what's exactly happened there. 

He has to blink a few times as he looks down to the far end of the long street. And when he can see things again. He blinks once more. Though this time in surprise. 

For his intended target, the short stocky fellow, who he knows is Mira Reinholt in disguise. Is still running, and that Garmen's remaining two mageglobes are still after him as he jumps to another rooftop. 

"What the fuck?" says Garmen the elder in disbelief, who is fairly certain that first mageglobe would of taken out it's intended target. 

Shaking his head, the powerful Vexillian mage quickly looks around. And in doing so, it's the only reason he stays alive with what happens next .

For the member of the Mage Council of Vexil suddenly senses another mageglobe, not one of his. Come up through the tall building he's on top of. 

"Shit" mutters the mage Garmen who quickly casts a levitation spell that sends him flying up into the fairly clear morning sky above the northern neighbourhoods of the city of Vexil. 

Just then, the mageglobe that he knows is one of Mira Reinholt's, comes up through the roof of the tall building, and explodes. 

The explosion is much larger, and far more noisy, not to mention, more powerful than the explosion created by his own mageglobe a few moments ago. 

And above the rooftop, the explosion which is all directed upwards. Is a bright firey red explosion of mainly flames, and red magical energy. 

As he shoots upwards into the sky, Garmen the elder who hastily put up wards around himself. Watches as the large fireball like explosion, bursts upwards into the morning sky, following him at speed. 

The member of the Mage Council of Vexil grimaces in anticipation as he knows that the explosion will envelope him. 

The mage Garmen just hopes his wards, both physical and magical protection shields, keep him whole as he continues his mage battle with Mira Reinholt, who he blames for his son's death back during the wintertime, up in the north of the city-state of Vexil . . . . . .

Springtime In The City 88.

The City-State Of Vexil. 

Running by a couple of people on the street, as he heads to what looks like a lane that's up ahead. Zam the ex mercenary slows down when he sees Lisell Maera the scout come to a stop, and look back in the direction they've come from. 

"What is it?" asks Zam the ex mercenary when he comes to a stop next to the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury. 

"You hear that?" says Lisell Maera the scout who then looks to the opposite side of the street and up. 

The youngest member of the group looks that way too, and spots the undead wardog Axe has stopped, and is looking back to the west, the direction they've come from. 

Zam isn't entirely sure, but if there was ever a look that indicated a frown upon the face of the massive undead animal, it's the look upon the face of Axe at the moment. 

Just then Dorc da Orc comes running around the corner that Zam and the scout Maera ran from previously. 

The large ork has a look of disgust and outright annoyance upon his broad green feral looking face as he makes his way to the ex mercenary and the junior officer in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque. 

"Dorc is there" is what Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well, gets out as the ork warleader approaches. 

Just as a trio of city guardsmen run around the corner, with one of them calling out "You troll, stop!" followed by "You're under arrest". 

"Uh oh" murmurs the teenager who is originally from The City Of Ruins when he sees the look upon the face of the ork warleader at being called a troll. 

Dorc da Orc's eyes go wide, then he growls, but he doesn't say anything, but he spins around with one of his throwing axes in hand, which he biffs, with a fair bit of force. 

And with predictable results, the axe which is about the size of human battle-axe. Slams into the head of the lead guardsmen who called out to the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. 

The head of that city guardsmen basically explodes in a shower of blood, bone and brain matter. 

As the headless body drops to the ground, the large ork's throwing axe continues on it's way. Slamming into the next guardsmen, with enough force that when it hits him in the top of the chest. 

It easily goes through his light armour, embedding into his body, killing him. It picks him up, hurling him backwards, into the third of the city guards in pursuit of the ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque. 

That third and final guardsman is knocked out when he slams backwards into the ground after getting hit by the dead body of his fellow guardsman. 

"Shit" murmurs Zam the ex mercenary with a wince upon his face, while next to him, Lis who isn't a devout person at all, mutters "By the gods" before saying "Dorc why the hell did you do that for?". 

The attractive young woman who is originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury continues on with "We'll have the entire city guard after us now". 

Looking down at the lead scout, Dorc da Orc with a deep scowl upon his face, says "That cunt call Dorc a fucken". 

"Troll" supplies the ex mercenary when he sees the ork weaponsmith is too furious to say that particular word. 

The warleader of the ork race grunts, then says "Yeah, one of them" the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks after taking a deep breath, then says "Besides, Farque says to kill any cunt who attacks us". 

"I don't think they were going to attack us" dryly says the scout Maera whose mother was a street prostitute in Brattonbury, and whose father, who she never actually met, was a sailor who plied his trade on The Great Western Ocean. 

"They fucken was" says Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name as he gestures at the trio of downed city guardsmen. 

"They fucken run at us, with their weapons out" adds the large ork who was named warleader of his race a number of years ago by Lord Farque himself. 

"He's got a point" says the youngest member of the group who is originally from The City Of Ruins, as the trio of city guardsmen, two of whom are clearly dead. Did have their weapons in hand as they ran towards the ork general in the Armies of Farque. 

"Don't you start" sourly says the scout Maera with a glance at the ex mercenary, who shrugs in reply to that look. 

The attractive young woman who is a junior officer in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque sighs, then looks up to where Axe is standing on the roof of a building on the opposite side of the street. 

Zam looks that way too, and he's pretty certain that's a sour looking expression on the maw of the undead wardog as he looks their way. 

Then the massive animal turns, and heads off again, heading in the direction they've been going since Lord Farque left them. 

"Hell" mutters Lisell Maera, who then tells the other two "Let's go" she sets off, heading to the lane further along the street. 

With Zam, and Dorc da Orc who has just retrieved his throwing axe, following after the junior officer in the Armies of Farque. 

As they do, the ork weaponsmith tells them "More of them fucken cunts heading this way" followed by "Me smell 'em". 

After grimacing, the ex mercenary who is the youngest member of the group looks around, and he spots a tower of the city guard not all that far away. 

"Great" sourly mutters Zam as he and the large ork follow after the scout Maera who has just entered the lane. 

While behind them, a few people who were looking out onto the street, watching what happened, walk out, and make their way over to the trio of downed city guardsmen, two of whom are well and truly dead. 

Looking back to the south and west, here in the northern neighbourhoods of the city of Vexil. Lord Farque slightly frowns behind the face plate of his full helm. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord then sourly smiles as he senses that two people have just died, in an abrupt and violent manner. And the person responsible for it, who he easily identifies. As that person is the only one of their race in the city of Vexil at this time. In fact he's the only one in this entire region of the central area of The Southlands. 

"Idiot" murmurs Lord Farque with a roll of his eyes, before shaking his head as he wonders who Dorc da Orc just killed. 

Though he suspects the large ork had a good reason to, as he senses that the ork general in his Armies, is close to Zam the ex mercenary and Lisell Maera the scout at the moment. As the three of them follow after the undead wardog Axe. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque then turns back around, looking off in the direction he's been heading here in the north of the city of Vexil. 

The undead warlord slaps away the mageglobe that was heading straight at him, killing the living piece of magic. 

Draugodrottin as he's also known by to the people of his lands, spots the mage Garmen in the distance. Who has just teleported to the roof of a fairly tall building in this part of the city. 

The lord of the death realm sees the member of the Mage Council of Vexil looking around, in the direction that Lord Farque knows Mira Reinholt the mage is at this moment. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord takes off running across the rooftop he's on, leaping to the next building along. 

The undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means The Destroyer in the common language. 

Won't use his full powers until he's closer to the mage he's in pursuit of. As he knows the powerful practitioner of magic by the name of Garmen the elder. Will easily teleport away if he even catches a glimpse of the undead warlord moving at an incredible pace, basically a blur of movement to the human eye. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque continues towards the local spellcaster who is the middle of a mage battle with Mira Reinholt the mage. 

Who at this moment, as the short stocky fellow named Covar, is at the corner of a building. Holding his power within himself, which he usually doesn't do, because he has an amulet that he wears on a chain around his neck. Which hides his magical powers from other practitioners of magic. 

Though that's useless against a mageglobe that he knows is chasing after him. So that it can identify, and locate him for the mage he's in the middle of a battle with. 

The once powerful mage waits for a horse drawn open top carriage, with a pair of young women in it, with their driver, to go by. Before he hurries across the street, and enters an alley between a pair of buildings. 

The exiled Vexillian mage hurries through the alley, and towards the other end, he levitates up to the roof of the building on his right. 

Once on the rooftop, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, ducks down, as the roof has a low wall that goes right around the edge of it. 

The mage Reinholt pops his head slightly up so he can just look over the top of the low wall, looking back in the direction he's come from. 

The local practitioner of magic who was the youngest ever member of the Mage Council of Vexil, until he was dismissed, and exiled during the Battle of Vexil a quarter of a century ago for treason. 

Spots the small white light in the distance, that he knows is one of the mage Garmen's mageglobes, which is trying to find him. 

Mira who is pretty certain the mageglobe he created earlier, is still around somewhere after a distracting another of the mage Garmen's living pieces of magic. 

Surprised that it's still alive, is just wondering if he should create another one. When in the distance, beyond the small white mageglobe that's trying to find him. 

He spots the powerful practitioner of magic who he's in the middle of a mage battle with on this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil. 

"By the shape of fire" Mira Reinholt the mage murmurs to himself, followed by "Garmen you prick, you just can't let things go". 

The once powerful mage who is a member of Lord Farque's personal council, watches Garmen the elder in the distance, walking around on a roof of one of the taller buildings here in the north of the city. 

The Vexillian mage in exile sighs as he thinks about things after ducking back down beneath the top of the low wall on this roof. 

After a few moments of thought, Mira Reinholt murmurs "I can't, can I?" before shrugging as decides to go ahead with a plan he's just come up with. 

The practitioner of magic who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation to be found anywhere in The Southlands. 

Was never really any good at illusion spells, in fact he was never any good at spells that weren't destructive at all. 

But ever since he lost most of his powers when he went offworld due to a rift/void spell that he miscast a number of years ago. 

He's got better at casting spells that aren't destructive. Though when it comes to illusion spells he's still not particular good at them. And that's even with the help of Helbe the elven thief. Who is one of the most skilled and talented spellcasters of the last few hundred years to be found, not just in The Southlands, but right across the world of Volunell. 

The mage Reinholt might not be any good at illusion spells. But he is good at being creative when it comes to mageglobes. 

He's always been so. Though prior to him going offworld it was various ways he could be destructive when it came to mageglobes. 

But ever since he returned to the world of Volunell, with no memory of what happened offworld. He's been highly creative in all types of mageglobe he's thought up. 

The exiled Vexillian mage closes his eyes as he sits down low, and he slowly creates a mageglobe in his gloved right hand. 

The once powerful mage pushes the living piece of magic down into the roof he's on, and it sinks down into the building. Where after getting it's bearings, it takes off, downwards. 

Mira senses his mageglobe drop further down into the ground, where it heads off, in the direction of where the mage Garmen is. 

The mage Reinholt pops his head up, and looks to a building down the street from where Garmen the elder is. He faintly smiles to himself as he waits and watches. 

Though he keeps an eye out for Garmen's own mageglobes, especially the identifier, which is trying to locate him. 

"Perfect" murmurs Mira Reinholt, who then quietly adds "You won't miss me". As he watches his fellow Vexillian mage, walk to the southeast corner of the tall building he's on. 

The exiled Vexillian swordmaster then quickly looks to the building at the end of the street from the building the mage Garmen is on. 

And the member of Lord Farque's personal council, sees a figure appear on that building, as if they've just teleported to it. 

That person is fairly short and stocky, a youngish looking fellow. Who looks exactly like Mira does at the moment, thanks to the Greater Illusion spell that's been cast upon him by Helbe the elven thief. 

Look at that, it worked, the once powerful practitioner of magic thinks to himself as he watches his mageglobe, which is emitting the image of the short stocky fellow named Covar on the roof of the building at the end of the street, from where the mage Garmen is. 

If Mira didn't know it was his mageglobe, he'd find it impossible to know that it's an illusion of the youngish looking fellow named Covar. 

In fact he's pretty sure it'll be near impossible to sense that it is an illusion, no matter how powerful you are. You'd have to be extremely skilled to know that it wasn't real. 

And that proves to be the case, as Garmen the elder, like pretty much all mages, is extremely powerful, and though skilled in his own way. He's not skillful enough to realize that what he's just seen appear on the roof at the end of the street, isn't actually real. 

And thinking that it's actually Mira Reinholt in disguise thanks to a spell, he creates a couple of mageglobes in succession. Which shoot away from him, as the figure of the short stocky fellow on the roof of the building at the end of that particular street, is running. 

At the same time as he knows the mage Garmen is briefly distracted, Mira Reinholt the mage creates his own mageglobe, which takes off out of his right gloved hand. 

Shooting away to the rooftop of the tall building in the distance, that Garmen the elder is on, this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil. As the two mages continue their battle, which is likely to see one of them, or maybe both of them dead once it comes to an end . . . . . .

Springtime In The City 87.

Vexil. 

They rush down a cross street, with Zam the ex mercenary following Lisell Maera the scout, with Lord Farque out in front and Dorc da Orc trailing the other three. 

The youngest member of the group who is originally from The City Of Ruins is breathing heavily as they enter a short lane. 

The ex mercenary narrowly avoids a lady heading the other way in the lane. Who screams in fright, and steps out of the way of Dorc da Orc when the large ork enters the lane. 

Running out of the lane, Zam turns left in the direction that the scout Maera has gone. He crosses the street as he sees the junior officer in the Scouts and Rangers division of the Armies of Farque is doing that up ahead. 

The teenager who was scratching together a living as a mercenary in The City Of Ruins when the group found him. 

Turns into another street here in the northern neighbourhoods of the city of Vexil, and he finds that the lead scout has stopped, as Lord Farque is at the corner of a building just in front of the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury. 

"Shit" mutters Zam the ex mercenary when Dorc da Orc comes running around the corner behind him, and almost runs him down, before coming to a stop, and the ork warleader sourly grunts at all the running they're doing. 

"Lis lead the way" says Lord Farque, who gestures across the street to a rooftop of one of the buildings over there, before he adds "Follow Axe". 

The undead wardog pops his head up for them to see as he stands upon the roof of the building the large heavily armoured deathlord just pointed to. 

"Dorc" says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, which gets an answering grunt from the big burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world. 

"Kaughin vark cakl tighl margünd" says the lord of the death realm in the ork language, followed by "Sagudel tighls mar" as he gestures at Zam and Lisell. 

"Jad ma" replies Dorc da Orc in the same language with a nod of his head as he looks at the two young humans. 

Kill any cunt who attacks. Lord Farque told the warleader of the ork race. Followed by. Protect these two. With the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque replying with. Will do. 

The undead warlord who has the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his lands also know him by, nods his full helmed head. 

Then after looking up and down the street they're on, and seeing just a couple of people on the street, at the other end, walking away with their backs to this end of the street. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord leaps up to the roof of building the four of them have been in front of. 

"He gone" says Dorc da Orc in the common language, followed by "He fucken running" says the ork weaponsmith who is listening carefully as well as sniffing. "Fucken fast" adds the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. 

Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well, nods her head. 

Then she looks across the street, and sees Axe the undead wardog moving away along the rooftops over there. 

"Come on, let's go" says the attractive young woman originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, who is now a junior officer in the Armies of Farque. 

As the three of them set off again, Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle to give him his full name, grunts then asks "Why we fucken running and shit?". 

"Mira's under attack" explains Zam the ex mercenary with a look back at the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque. 

"From that mage Garmen" adds the teenager who is the youngest member of the group as he and the ork weaponsmith follow Lis across the street they're on. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world just grunts at that, as the three of them, following the lead of the undead wardog Axe, head eastwards through the northern neighbourhoods of the city of Vexil on this fairly fine spring morning. 

Mira Reinholt the mage reappears on a building near a park here in the north of the city that he knows so well. 

The once powerful mage narrows his eyelids as he looks back in the direction he's come from. And though he can't sense that far any more. He can briefly boost his ability to sense by way of one of the spell gems he has, and he drains some of the power from it. 

"Fuck" mutters Mira Reinholt the mage with a sour looking lopsided smile upon his face as he senses what's approaching. 

A couple of mageglobes, one is another identifier. Which isn't moving particular quickly. And another, that's most definitely likely to be destructive. Right behind it. 

The Vexillian mage in exile knows that second piece of living magic will move at speed once the other one locates him. 

The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in The Southlands. 

Creates a mageglobe of his own, about the size of a small apple, bright blue in colour, which he sends back in the direction he's come from. 

The practitioner of magic who is also a highly skilled swordmaster knows his living piece of magic is a distraction more than anything else. 

Quickly looks around as he senses, trying to locate Garmen the elder, who he's now in a mage battle with. 

The mage Reinholt who is a member of Lord Farque's personal council knows there's only one outcome to this. 

And that's if one of the mages in a battle is killed. Though Mira has been in quite a number of them over the years. He hasn't actually won all of them by himself. 

Quite a few he's had helped. Like recently against Garmen the younger up in the hill country of northern Vexil back during the winter. Where it was actually Helbe the elven thief who killed the son of the older mage Garmen. 

The mage Reinholt is kinda hoping to get some help right now. Most likely from Lord Farque himself. Who can easily kill such a powerful spellcaster like Garmen the elder. 

The exiled Vexillian mage whose main advantage he has is the amulet he wears, that hides him from other practitioners of magic. 

Knows that living pieces of magic like a mageglobe doesn't care about that. And will find him eventually. 

But even so, the mage Garmen himself will not be able to locate him, unless he visibly spots him on this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil. 

The once powerful mage who wishes he didn't actually have the greater illusion spell cast upon him by Helbe the elven thief at the moment. 

Vanishes when he teleports away, then the slightly short stocky, and youngish looking fellow named Covar reappears on a rooftop about two hundred feet away, on the north side of the park in this part of the city of Vexil. 

The practitioner of magic who was the youngest ever member of the Mage Council of Vexil, senses as far away as he can. 

And though he can't actually see it, he senses his mageglobe approaching the pair that the mage Garmen sent after him. 

"Come on" Mira Reinholt the mage murmurs to himself, who then slightly smiles as he senses his mageglobe veer off, turning south. 

And that one of Garmen the elder's mageglobes takes off after it. The Vexillian mage in exile is silent for a few moments, then he grunts, slightly in disappointment as he realizes which one of Garmen's mageglobes took off, and which one is continuing on it's way towards him. 

"Fucking identifier" mutters the swordmaster Reinholt as the slower moving enemy mageglobe is still heading towards him. 

The once powerful mage who is part of the family that owns one of, if not, the most successful trading company, not just in Vexil, but the entire Southlands. 

Is pretty sure he senses another mageglobe in the distance heading this way too. He waits a few moments, then he sourly smiles to himself, and nods as he's now certain there's another mageglobe from Garmen the elder heading towards him. 

"Fuck" mutters Mira Reinholt the mage, who sighs then mutters "By the shape of fire" before he disappears, as he teleports away once again. 

After leaping across to another rooftop, Lord Farque comes to a stop, and he looks away to his right. 

The undead warlord slightly frowns behind the visor of his full helm, then he slightly nods to himself as he feels, then sees what's approaching in that direction. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord turns to his right and runs, then he easily bounds across the street below. And lands upon a rooftop on the opposite side of the street. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque waits, and after a few moments, he spots first one, then a second mageglobe. 

Come up over the roof of a building further down the street on this side, and head across the rooftops in this direction. 

Draugodrottin just stands there and watches the pair of living pieces of magic shoot towards the rooftop he's standing on. 

The lord of the death realm watches as the first mageglobe, which is bright blue in colour go flying past him at speed. 

Then the deathlord of Farque reaches out his right hand, and snatches the trailing mageglobe out of the air. 

Lord Farque squeezes his right gauntleted hand, crushing the living piece of magic, basically to death, so it no longer exists. 

The undead warlord whose elven name is Des'tier, which translates to The Destroyer in the common language. 

Watches as the first mageglobe, which was created by Mira Reinholt, comes back around and approache him. Slowly almost curiously. 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque who is sensing for the whereabouts of the mage Garmen. Snatches that mageglobe out of the air too. 

Ryn tell the stupid thing to distract other mageglobes of that mage Garmen, Lord Farque thinks to his family's sword that's strapped to his back as he holds the Mira Reinholt's mageglobe in his right gauntleted hand. 

Yes my lord, replies the Sword of Power Ryn, who then 'speaks' to the living piece of magic that Draugodrottin is holding. 

After she does, the undead warlord flings away the small, bright blue mageglobe. Which briefly hesitates, then after it spins around in the same spot a few times as it's slightly confused at what's just happened. 

It takes off at speed, and heads towards another of the mage Garmen's mageglobes in this neighbourhood, here in the north of the city of Vexil. 

"There you fucking are" murmurs Lord Farque as he locates Garmen the elder once again, the large heavily armoured deathlord then runs across the roof he's on, and leaps to another building as he goes after the member of the Mage Council of Vexil who is hell bent on finding, and killing Mira Reinholt the mage. 

After briefly stopping to speak to a patrol of city guardsmen, and telling them to arrest a couple of people in the neighbourhood. 

The mage Garmen made sure to give a good description of the pair. Though he thought about calling one an ork. But decided not to, and instead called it a stunted looking troll. Fatter than most, who is bristling with weapons all over them. 

The member of the Mage Council of Vexil who is in the middle of a mage battle with one Mira Reinholt, traitor to the city-state of Vexil. Who Garmen the elder helped to exile a quarter of a century ago during The he Battle of Vexil. 

Frowns as he looks back over his shoulder, as the city guardsmen hurry away. Some to find the pair the mage Garmen wants arrested. And others to the nearby guard tower. To inform other guardsmen what's going on. 

"Huh?" the mage Garmen the elder murmurs to himself with a slight frown upon his face, as he senses another of his mageglobes has prematurely come to the end of it's existence. 

"What's going on here?" the powerful practitioner of magic murmurs to himself, as he wonders how his living pieces of magic are coming to their demise and there's no sign that they've done so. 

The prominent member of the Mage Council of Vexil who still has a pair of mageglobes about. One of which can identify a particular mage, no matter how hard that particular person tries to hide themselves from other spellcasters. 

"Come on, find him" Garmen the senior murmurs to himself as he continues on his way down the street he's on "Find the bastard" adds the powerful practitioner of magic. 

The Vexillian mage turns right onto another street, knowing that his target, Mira Reinholt the mage is somewhere to the east of him. 

The mage Garmen levitates up to a rooftop to his right, shocking a few of the people on the street who see him. 

The powerful spellcaster looks around, sensing as well as looking for the mage Reinholt, who is somewhere in this part of the city. 

The member of the Mage Council of Vexil, is turning, looking away to the south of where he is. More or less the direction he's come from. And the Vexillian practitioner of magic, frowns as he spots something in the distance heading this way, at speed. 

"What the hell?" murmurs Garmen the senior as he sees the large heavily armoured figure, he knows to be an acquaintance of Mira Reinholt. Running across the nearby rooftops at speed. 

The powerful spellcaster blinks in surprise as watches the large figure leap from one building to another. That the mage Garmen knows is separated by a street. A street far too wide for anyone to jump across. Especially the large figure in a full suit of heavy plate armour. 

The Vexillian born practitioner of magic quickly creates a mageglobe, and flings it away in the direction of the large heavily armoured figure heading this way. 

Then as his living piece of magic takes off towards that individual, Garmen the elder turns to his right, then disappears as he teleports away as he continues his pursuit of Mira Reinholt the mage on this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil . . . . . .

Springtime In The City 86.

The City Of Vexil. 

In the open courtyard behind the tavern, Zam the ex mercenary along with Lisell Maera the scout, and Covar, or Mira Reinholt the mage to be exact. See Lord Farque who is standing at a table with Dorc da Orc, look back over his right shoulder to the south. 

The youngest member of the group isn't certain, but the glimpse he got through the eye slot of the undead warlord's full helm, he thinks the large heavily armoured deathlord frowned. 

"Something wrong my lord?" asks Zam the ex mercenary when and the scout Maera and the mage Reinholt get to the table where the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque and the ork warleader are standing. 

"Something" murmurs Lord Farque, who then looks at the youngish looking, short stocky fellow by the name of Covar, and says "That Garmen is just to the south of us". 

The others, with the exception of Dorc da Orc who is busy drinking from a small barrel of ale, look away to the south. 

"Just went by that curio shop" continues the undead warlord, who pauses for a moment, before adding "Now on a rooftop of a building at the far end of the street". 

Zam, along with the scout Maera and the mage Reinholt all look towards the buildings at the southern end of the long street. 

"Can't see him" murmurs Mira Reinholt the mage, next to him Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well, nods in agreement with the Vexillian mage in exile. 

The ex mercenary originally from The City Of Ruins nods in agreement too, for he can't see anyone on the rooftops in that direction. 

"He's there" says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque whose people also know him by the name of Draugodrottin. 

"That four storey building with the peaked roof" continues the lord of the death realm, who follows on from that with "He's looking our way". 

"Shit" mutters Covar, who is really Mira Reinholt the mage beneath a Greater Illusion spell cast by Helbe the elven thief. 

"Hiding himself?" asks the practitioner of magic who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in The Southlands. 

Until he lost most of his powers when he accidentally cast a rift/void spell that sent him offworld. 

"He is" is the reply from the large heavily armoured deathlord with a slight nod of his full helmed head. 

Then the undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates into the common language as The Destroyer, mutters "Shit" followed by "Mageglobe". 

A moment later, and there's a small bright light in the distance, about the size of an apple, suddenly appear on the rooftop Lord Farque indicated. 

Which briefly hesitates, then drops down over the side of the building, then drops down out of sight between that building, and the one in front of it. 

"Shit" mutters the short stocky fellow named Covar, who then quickly asks "You know what it does?". 

"Fucking pain in the ass trying to figure out those things unless they're close" sourly says Draugodrottin, who continues with "Whatever it does, it's heading this way".

As the mage Reinholt grimaces, the undead warlord slightly turns his full helmed head, tilting it to one side, as if he's listening to something. 

The lord of the death realm, then says "It's not destructive" followed by "So that's something, I fucking guess". 

The large heavily armoured deathlord briefly pauses, before continuing on with "Hell" he pauses once again, and looks at the exiled Vexillian mage who is a member of his personal council, and says "It can identify mages". 

The lord of the death realm is silent for a moment or two then he adds "The fucking thing just went underground". 

Covar who is actually Mira Reinholt, grimaces then says "Damn" then he shakes his head and says "It's living, it doesn't care about spells, it'll identify a mage no matter what, before it comes to the end of it's brief life". 

In response to Lisell Maera the scout saying "You'll be alright under that spell won't you?" followed by "It can't tell if you're a mage with that?". Not to mention the amulet that the mage Reinholt wears that hides his magical powers from other practitioners of magic. 

"Can you stop it?" quickly asks the once powerful mage as he looks at the large heavily armoured deathlord. 

"Maybe" says Des'tier, who continues on with "Depends what it actually does" dryly followed by "At least It's not moving quickly". 

The lord and ruler of the Lands Farque falls silent, then he looks at the ground towards the other end of the courtyard, and he says "Here it comes". 

Zam steps away from the short, stocky, kind of youngish looking fellow named Covar who is really the exiled Vexillian mage, Mira Reinholt. 

The next moment, the undead warlord is moving. Just then the incoming mageglobe shoots up through the courtyard, right behind the mage Reinholt, and up into the air. 

And before the deathlord of Farque can leap up into the sky and grab the living piece of magic that's white in colour, and the size of a small apple. 

It comes to the end of it's brief life, and briefly flares out, before a shaft of white light, from about fifty feet up in the air, beams down, right onto the mage Reinholt, clearly illuminating him on this fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil. 

"The fuck is that?" asks Dorc da Orc who finally realizes that something's going on "Killer you all lit up and shit" adds the large ork as the once powerful mage is briefly illuminated by the beam of light from above them. 

Then as the beam of light disappears, and the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster mutters "Fuck". 

Lord Farque who has spun around, and is looking back to the south again, quickly says to the others "Move!". 

The next moment, three mageglobes, one after the other in quick succession, appear from the same rooftop as the previous one, that just identified the fellow named Covar, is actually a mage. 

"Another identifier" says Draugodrottin to the practitioner of magic who is a member of his personal council, the lord of the death realm follows on from that in a slightly dry tone with "You can guess what the other two can do". 

"Fuck" mutters the mage Reinholt once again, who then nods when the undead warlord tells "Teleport away" followed by "Try and lead them away". 

The next moment and the youngish looking, short stocky fellow named Covar disappears as the once powerful mage teleports away. 

Then two of the three new mageglobes, all of which are moving fairly quickly. Take off to the east, the direction Mira Reinholt teleported to. 

While the remaining mageglobe continues on towards the tavern, and the open courtyard behind it. 

"Fucking prick" mutters Des'tier who can clearly see the mage Garmen in the distance upon the roof of one of the buildings at the far end of the long street. 

The undead warlord who has sensed both Zam the ex mercenary and Lisell Maera the scout, run from the open courtyard, and around the northern end of the tavern. 

Rolls his eyes as he realizes Dorc da Orc hasn't moved, and is still at the table. The large heavily armoured deathlord glances at the ork general in his Armies, who is busy finishing off the small barrel of ale he's been drinking from. 

"What?" asks the ork weaponsmith as he takes a breath, and notices the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque looking at him. 

"Nothing" dryly says the lord of the death realm, who follows on from that "Fucking stay behind me, and don't move". 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world just grunts in reply to that. Though he resumes drinking, he does what the undead warlord told him to do, and remains standing behind the large heavily armoured deathlord. 

"Bastard" mutters Garmen the senior, who continues on with "I knew it was him". As he looks eastwards in the direction a fairly young, short stocky fellow teleported away to. 

Feeling triumphant at his discovery, the member of the Mage Council of Vexil looks back to the open courtyard of the tavern at the far end of the long street he's on. 

He sees that the two large figures are the only ones who remain there. An avenger, a large fellow in a suit of dark blue, black heavy plate armour. 

And with him, apparently an ork. Though the mage Garmen is a little dubious at that. As he believes it's a stunted troll. A rather fat one at that. Which is absolutely covered in weapons of all kinds. 

The powerful practitioner of magic who is a member of the Mage Council of Vexil watches as one of his mageglobes shoots towards the pair in the courtyard behind the tavern in the distance. 

"Er?" Garmen the elder murmurs to himself in confusion after he sees his mageglobe explode, barely. 

For the large heavily armoured individual in the dark armour, was some way able to reach out and grab the fast moving mageglobe out of midair. 

Then pull it in towards him, and he tucked down over as held it to his chest, and the living piece of magic came to the end of it's life, and died. 

The member of the Mage Council of Vexil blinks in surprise at the lack of damage, of anything really. From that mageglobe exploding and not much happening. 

"What the hell?" mutters Garmen the senior, who continues muttering with "Oh shit". As the large heavily armoured individual who just grabbed his mageglobe just before it exploded. 

Stands up tall, and looks this way, directly at the powerful Vexillian mage who has cast an invisibility spell upon himself. 

The local spellcaster who has spent the springtime trying to locate Mira Reinholt the mage, who is responsible for the death of his son, Garmen the younger. Wonders who that person is. 

As he does, he creates another mageglobe, and sends it towards the pair behind the tavern at the other end of the long street. 

Garmen the elder not wanting to waste anymore time on them, looks away to his right, then disappears as he teleports away. In pursuit of who he's certain is Mira Reinholt the mage. 

The member of the Mage Council of Vexil is extremely lucky that he teleported then. For as he was in the process of disappearing. He caught sight of something rather large, and rather black. Approaching from his right, across the roof of the building directly to the right of the one he was on. 

After leaping through where the mage Garmen just was. Axe the undead wardog comes to a sudden stop. And looks to the north, to where his master is. 

The massive undead animal sees his master give him a hand signal, then say something in the ancient language of command. Which Axe can easily hear from this end of the long street. 

The undead wardog turns around and takes of running across the rooftops in this part of the city of Vexil. 

Heading after the mage Garmen the elder, who is in pursuit of Mira Reinholt the mage, who is being chased by two of the mage Garmen's mageglobes. 

As for the most recent mageglobe created by the member of the Mage Council of Vexil, that's heading to the open courtyard behind the tavern where Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc are. 

This time Draugodrottin doesn't even let the approaching mageglobe to get to the end of it's brief life. 

The undead warlord is a blur as he moves, and he leaps forward and grabs the living piece of magic out of the air. 

And he crushes it in his right gauntleted hand, destroying the mageglobe created by Garmen the senior. 

Jogging back across the courtyard, the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, says to the large ork who is a general in his Armies "Let's go". 

The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then he grabs the remaining small barrel of ale off the table, and he follows the large heavily armoured deathlord around to northern end of the tavern. 

Where they find Zam the ex mercenary and Lisell Maera the scout waiting for the two of them. Both of them relieved to see the lord of the death realm and the ork warleader unharmed. 

"That way" says Lord Farque to Zam and Lis as he points off to the east, here in the north of the city of Vexil. 

"He's after Mira" adds the lord of the death realm, which gets a fairly dry sounding "I wonder why?" from the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury. 

Des'tier just rolls his eyes, then he says to the other three "Let's go". And he, followed by the others, hurries from this end of the tavern, and makes his way out onto the street. 

Here in the northern neighbourhoods of the city of Vexil on what's a fairly fine spring morning in the capital of the city-state . . . . . .

Springtime In The City 85.

The City-State Of Vexil. 

Looking over at Lord Farque, Zam the ex mercenary asks him "What my lord?" after hearing the undead warlord mutter "Fuck". 

As they stand near the magical curio shop, the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque looks away to their left for a moment, then he looks at the youngest member of the group. 

"Pair of dwarves heading this way" quietly says Lord Farque in the elven language to the teenager who hails from The City Of Ruins. 

Zam quickly looks at Dorc da Orc who is leaning up against the front of the building on this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil. 

The ex mercenary then looks at the lord of the death realm, who quietly tells him in elvish "I better take the big fickwit away for a while". 

The large heavily armoured deathlord continues with "Those dwarves are definitely coming right here" he then adds "One of them is a delver". 

The youngest member of the group nods his head in understanding, as he knows a delver is a dwarven spellcaster. 

"There's a tavern back the way we came, I'll take him there" says Lord Farque who also goes by the name of Draugodrottin that the people of his lands know him by. 

Zam nods at that, then the undead warlord says in common to the ork warleader "Come on Dorc, let's get a drink". 

The large ork who has been bored as hell as they wait, perks up at hearing that from the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque. 

"Where?" asks Dorc da Orc as he looks around "Back the way we came from" replies the lord of the death realm, pointing away to the right in the direction they came from. 

"There's a tavern that way" adds the large heavily armoured deathlord whose elven name is Des'tier, which translates to The Destroyer in the common language. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world who is a general in the Armies of Farque, grunts as he spotted the tavern on the way here. 

Looking at the youngest member of the group, Draugodrottin tells him "Head there when Mira" the undead warlord pauses before dryly adding "I mean Covar" followed by "Finishes up here". 

"Yes my lord" says the teenager who was scratching together a meager living as a mercenary when the group found him in The City Of Ruins. 

The deathlord of Farque gestures at the rooftop of a nearby building, and quietly says in elvish to Zam "Axe will keep an eye on you". 

The ex mercenary looks that way, and though he can't see the undead wardog at the moment, he knows Axe is there if Lord Farque says so. 

"Come on, let's go" says the large heavily armoured deathlord in common to the ork warleader. 

Who grunts, and follows after Des'tier who is walking away, heading back in the direction they've come from. 

The youngest member of the group leans back against the front of building where the magical curio shop is housed. As he waits for Mira Reinholt the mage and Lisell Maera the scout to come back out, on this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil. 

During the next little while, Zam watches as a handful of customers enter the shop, the front door of which is a dozen feet to his left. 

By the looks of things, the ex mercenary originally from The City Of Ruins figures most of them are from the nearby Mage College. 

As they're all younger than him, the oldest he figures is probably only sixteen or seventeen years old. 

And a bit after that, a pair of dwarves come up the street, and make their way to the magical curio shop. 

Zam can easily tell which one is the spellcaster. He's the one not wearing a heavy chainmail shirt, with heavy leather armour. Bristling with weapons. 

The ex mercenary says good morning to them in the dwarven language. He knows a few phrases in that language as there was a fair few dwarves living and working in The City Of Ruins when he was there. 

The armed and armoured dwarf just grunts in reply, while the dwarven delver in the cloak like robe, chuckles then says in common "Not bad" followed by "Good pronunciation, but you've got to work on the accent, because that's atrocious". 

Zam grins, and nods in reply to the dwarven spellcaster, who enters the magical curio shop, followed by the other dwarf, who looks to be his personal guard. 

Hell, glad the lord took Dorc away, the youngest member of the group thinks to himself, as he knows that if the large ork remained here, he would of tried to kill those two dwarves if he caught wind of them.  

It's not too long before Lisell Maera, followed by the mage Reinholt, make their way out of the magical curio shop. 

"Where are they?" asks Lisell Maera the scout looking at the teenager who hails from The City Of Ruins. 

"In a tavern that way" answers Zam the ex mercenary who points in the direction that Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc went. 

"Figured as much" says Mira Reinholt the mage, who continues on with "When I saw those two dwarves enter the shop I guessed Farque had taken that big fucking psycho away somewhere". 

The youngest member of the group nods, then he asks the once powerful mage "Get what you were looking for". 

"I did" replies the short stocky fellow named Covar, who is really Mira Reinholt "Two of them" continues the practitioner of magic who is also a highly skilled swordmaster "And a spell scroll too" adds the Vexillian mage in exile. 

Then the mage Reinholt, who in the history of the city-state of Vexil, is the youngest ever member of the Mage Council of Vexil, gestures in the direction they came from, then says "Probably best we head to where they are". 

Both the ex mercenary and the scout Maera nod in agreement, then the attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, moves off. 

The youngest member of the group, and the once powerful mage who is under the power of a Greater Illusion spell cast upon him by Helbe the elven thief. 

Follow after Lisell Maera the scout or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group, on this relatively fine spring morning, where the cloud cover is clearing, thanks to a fairly stiff wind that's blowing today. 

As they walk, Zam looks up to the rooftop where he knows Axe has been watching them. The ex mercenary can't see the massive undead wardog, but he figures he's keeping pace with them as they head off to the tavern where Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc are. 

Not far away, at the edge of the main airdocks of the city of Vexil. The mage Garmen sourly smiles to himself after exiting one of the buildings that houses many of the officials that work here in the airdocks. 

The powerful practitioner of magic who is a member of the Mage Council of Vexil, refrains from sighing at the situation he finds himself in at the moment. 

Then the mage Garmen, often referred to as Garmen the elder or Garmen the senior, teleports away to the rooftop of a building to the north of the main airdocks of the city of Vexil. 

"Damn it boy, why did you have to hang around that filth?" the mage Garmen mutters to himself as he stands upon the roof of the four storey building. 

The powerful Vexillian spellcaster just shakes his head and wonders how he's ended up in the situation he finds himself in. 

After the daytime murder of the airdock official Gopeth a few days ago in one of the northern neighbourhoods of the city. 

The investigation by the city guard into the murder of the prominent city official. Found out some rather unsettling things about Gopeth. 

Who Garmen the elder vaguely knew, and had dealt with a couple of times in his position as a member of the Mage Council, dealing with issues pertaining to the main airdocks. 

But Garmen's deceased son, Garmen the younger was good friends with the airdock official Gopeth. 

And now the father, along with pretty much all of the Mage Council, as well as the City Council, along with the senior officials right across the city-state .

Are wondering how much, or even if Garmen the younger knew of the despicable things that Gopeth was doing in secret. 

To say the others in the Mage Council are annoyed, is an understatement. For they've stated in no uncertain terms to Garmen the senior. 

That he's not to waste any more time into trying to find the former Mage Council member, Mira Reinholt the mage. 

Who everyone believes is responsible for killing Garmen the younger during a border insurrection, by a mercenary army, up in the hill country of northern Vexil back in the wintertime. 

Garmen the elder teleports away again, to another rooftop further north. And when he reappears, he can't help himself and looks around hoping to find any sign of Mira Reinholt. 

Who he along with a number of others in the Mage Council a quarter of a century ago during the Battle of Vexil, exiled Mira Reinholt for treason. 

Garmen the mage looks away to his right, and he gets a clear view down a fairly long street, to a tavern in the distance, he used to frequent when he was younger. Before he got married and had his son. 

The powerful practitioner of magic spots some people in the open courtyard, to one side of the tavern and behind it. 

Where there's tables and seats, where people can eat and drink on fine days, like this spring morning here in the city of Vexil. 

The mage Garmen slightly frowns to himself as he sees two very large figures in the open courtyard of the tavern. 

Who are standing at a table, where they're joined by three others who have just made their way into the open courtyard. 

Garmen's frown gets even deeper as there's a memory that he's trying to recall about the man he's hell bent on finding. 

Then after a few moments as he continues to stare off into the distance at that tavern down the long street. 

Garmen the senior slightly nods, then murmurs to himself "Could it be?" and after pausing for a moment, adds "It actually could be". 

From the Battle of Vexil, the powerful spellcaster recalls the information of who Mira Reinholt was seen in the company of. 

One a large heavily armoured individual, an avenger most likely. And another, even bigger individual. One thought to be an ork, which sounds ridiculous, though believed to be a stunted troll of some kind. 

The mage Garmen slowly nods to himself, and even though it's been twenty five years, he quietly murmurs to himself "It's them". 

He looks at the other three at the table with them in the open courtyard behind the tavern in the distance. 

And with a farsight spell he quickly casts, the powerful mage sees that all three are far too young to be Mira Reinholt, and one of them is a young woman. 

Garmen the elder sighs in frustration, then a thought comes to him, and he murmurs "What if he's been hiding in plain sight?". 

The member of the Mage Council of Vexil who has sensed to the tavern courtyard in the distance. 

And though he doesn't detect any spell on those three who have joined the heavily armoured avenger, and the maybe ork. 

That doesn't necessarily mean that there's actually no spell on one of those three youngsters. 

Nodding to himself as he stands on the roof of a building a couple hundred yards away from the tavern he's looking at. 

Garmen the elder murmurs "Let's find out then" just before he creates a mage globe on this fairly fine spring morning here in the city of Vexil . . . . . .

Springtime In The City 84.

Vexil. 

"Tithelim youn'th riendél umīkith" quietly says Zam the ex mercenary as they wait on the street just outside the Merchant's Rest inn this morning. 

"Lothilēl salindïl kelmïthel olmönd narthēl mulkithnêl" replies Lisell Maera the scout as she looks up and down the street, then up at the dawn sky, which is partly cloudy this morning, with no sign of rain like there's been the last few days here in the city of Vexil. 

The pair who have been conversing in elvish, fall silent as a pair of mounted riders pass by, followed by a covered carriage. 

The ex mercenary who is originally from The City Of Ruins and the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury, share a look. As they both remember what they took part in just a few days ago. Publicly killing an important city official who worked at the main airdocks of the city of Vexil. 

The two of them turn around, as out of the covered walkway that leads into the small, square like courtyard where the Merchant's Rest is located. 

Comes Lord Farque, Dorc da Orc and a short stocky fellow, fairly young, around the scout Maera's age. 

"What's this one called?" asks Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group. 

"Covar" is the dry sounding reply from the young looking fellow who is really Mira Reinholt the mage. 

"Starting to think the royal thief gets a laugh at the types of people he makes you" states the junior officer in the Armies of Farque, who has a completely straight face when she says that. 

Next to her, the youngest member of the group can't help but grin as he looks at the short stocky fellow who looks like he's in his early twenties. But in actual fact is really twenty or so years older than that. 

"No really?" sarcastically says the once powerful mage, who in that same tone, continues with "I'd never of guessed". 

"Stop your fucking whining" says Lord Farque which immediately kills that conversation. The undead warlord who has been sensing in all directions. 

Mainly for any dwarves in the immediate vicinity. For the simple fact he doesn't want to spend all morning keeping a hold of Dorc da Orc. Who will definitely try to run off and murder any dwarf he catches wind of. 

"That way" says the large heavily armoured deathlord who points to the right, he follows that with "Lis lead the way". 

The scout Maera nods her head, and does so again when the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque tells her "Turn left at the end of the street, then head around the square and go south". 

"Yes my lord" says the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury, who is a junior officer in undead warlord's Armies. 

Lis leads the way, with Zam the ex mercenary alongside Covar behind her. The deathlord of Farque and the ork warleader follow after them. 

The teenager originally from The City Of Ruins glances at the shorter, and stockier man beside him, and quietly asks "Where exactly did you want to go to this morning?". 

"Pick up some magical supplies" replies the mage Reinholt, who isn't particularly pleased with the latest illusion spell he's been cast under. 

Though he does admit, it's better than some of the other ones that Helbe the elven thief has cast upon him recently. 

At least he's a man this time. The exiled Vexillian mage finds it annoying every time the highly talented elven magic user creates a greater illusion spell where he's a woman. 

Mira can never get used to the gait while walking when one's a woman. Nor can he get accustomed to whatever voice he ends up having when he's a greater illusion spell that makes him a woman. 

Zam nods at hearing the mage Reinholt wants some supplies, and he asks him "One of the magical curio shops down towards the main airdocks?". 

The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in The Southlands, nods his head in reply to that question from the youngest member of the group. 

Then the mage who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, says "On this side, towards the Mage College". 

The ex mercenary nods again, then he glances back at the two large figures following behind them. 

Zam figures the reason Lord Farque has come out this morning, is to keep an eye on Dorc da Orc who he has allowed out. 

For the simple reason the large ork has been cooped up in The Merchant's Rest inn over the last few days as it's rained here in the city of Vexil. 

And with today being fairly fine, as there's a strong wind this spring morning, which is breaking up the cloud cover in this part of the city-state. It's probably best to allow the warleader of the ork race to go out. 

And the fact the arguing between the ork weaponsmith and his bitter rival sir Percavelle Lé Dic builds in intensity the longer they're in close confines together. 

Which could easily turn to blows if one or the other isn't allowed to roam about in the city, especially on a day that's fairly fine. 

As the five of them cross a street, the youngest member of the group who is originally from The City Of Ruins quietly asks the short, stocky fellow walking beside him "What's his highness actually doing this morning?". 

"No idea" is the truthful reply from Mira Reinholt, who like the ex mercenary, is speaking in the elven language. 

"Most likely something for Farque" adds the Vexillian practitioner of magic who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster. 

Zam nods at that, then he glances back at Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc who are following them. He's just about to ask the undead warlord where Helbe the elven thief is this morning, and what the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel is up to. When he spots movement on a nearby rooftop. 

After a moment, the youngest member of the group nods to himself, as he sees that it's Axe the undead wardog. And that the massive animal is following them through this part of the city on this relatively fine, but windy spring morning. 

They briefly stop to allow a wagon to pass by, then they cross another street, and head around a square, where there's a market taking place this morning. 

Lord Farque or Draugodrottin to give him his other name that the people of his lands know him by, has to briefly take a hold of Dorc da Orc's left arm. 

As the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world caught the sight and smell of a number of interesting things being cooked, as well drinks being sold this morning at the market in the square. 

The large ork who has already had a massive breakfast, and plenty of booze to drink this morning. 

Looks sadly back at the market as they leave the square behind him as they continue south towards the area near the main airdocks of the city, where a magical curio shop the mage Reinholt is interested in going to, is located. 

"Keeping up with your training?" asks Covar to pass the time as they head south through the northern neighbourhoods here in the city of Vexil. 

"I am" replies Zam the ex mercenary, who follows on from that in a wry tone of voice with "Did some hand to hand combat training with Shur Kee in the stables just before dawn". 

"Lucky you" dryly says the exiled Vexillian mage, who continues on from that with "No way in hell I'd throw hands at that monk" he then adds "You always end up on your ass on the ground". 

"Tell me about it" wryly says the teenager who hails from The City Of Ruins, who continues with "I spent all my time getting up off the ground" Zam briefly pauses before adding "And i don't even think I put a hand on him at all". 

Next to the youngest member of the group, the short stocky fellow named Covar who is really Mira Reinholt just grins at that.

As they along with Lisell Maera the scout, Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc head towards the main airdocks of the city, and the nearby Mage College. 

The walk through the northern neighbourhoods here in the city of Vexil this morning is pretty uneventful. 

Except when Dorc da Orc spots a couple of hobbits on the other side of the street they're on, and the large ork just points at them and laughs, loudly. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world who had come to a stop, and just stood there laughing at the pair of halflings. 

Both of whom were totally confused to why this large green individual, was standing there, pointing at them, and laughing uncontrollably. 

Had to be hauled away by the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who took the ork weaponsmith by the left arm. 

Even then, the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque, continued to laugh at the two hobbits, even when he was dragged around the corner at the end of the street where they encountered the two hobbits. 

The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, only stopped laughing when the undead warlord quietly said something to him in orkish. 

Zam murmured to Covar wondering what the deathlord of Farque said to the warleader of the ork race. 

And the short, stocky man who is really Mira Reinholt the mage quietly replied that it probably involved violence by Lord Farque, upon the large ork. 

Which is usually the only way to get the ork weaponsmith to shut up when he gets into uncontrollable fits of laughter. 

The group with Lisell Maera out in front, approach the area of the central city where the prestigious Mage College of Vexil is located. 

Not far away to the south, lies the main airdocks of the city, which from the movement of airships leaving and arriving is anything to go by, is busy this fairly fine spring morning. 

"Down that lane there" says Covar who is really Mira Reinholt "And around the corner to left" adds the youngish looking, short stocky fellow who follows that with "The shop is further down that street". 

Zam slightly nods to himself, as he recognizes where they are. And that he knows which magical curio shop they're going to this morning. 

It's the same one that earlier in the spring, infact before the Spring Tourney of Vexil, where he got one of the two mage cannisters that were purchased that day. 

A mage cannister that the ex mercenary always has on him now, tied to an underarm strap, beneath his cloak. 

They enter the lane, and as they make their way down it, the youngest member of the group quietly asks in elvish "Anything in particular you're looking for?". 

"Just some empty spell gems" is the quiet reply from the practitioner of magic who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, in the entire Southlands. 

Who lost most of his powers a number of years ago when he miscast a spell that sent him offworld through a rift/void. 

"They tend to wear out after a fair bit of use" explains the Vexillian mage in exile, who follows that with "I like to keep at least one brand new one on me at all times" he continues with "Probably get a couple if i can". 

Makes sense, the ex mercenary from The City Of Ruins thinks to himself, as they exit the lane behind Lisell Maera who has turned to the left on the street they've come out on. 

"There it is" says the practitioner of magic who when he was still seventeen years old after completing his studies at The Mage College, became the youngest ever member of The Mage Council of Vexil. 

"I see it" says the scout Maera who leads the way to the magical curio shop, which by the looks of things, already has a few customers this morning. 

"Anything I have to be worried about in there?" quietly asks the mage Reinholt with a look back at the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque. 

"Just the usual" is the reply from the undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates into the common language as The Destroyer. 

"Mostly students from The Mage College by the feel of things" adds the large heavily armoured deathlord. The short stocky, fairly young individual nods his head in reply to that. 

"Zam wait out here" says Lord Farque, who continues on from that with "Lis head in with Mira, I mean Covar or whatever the fuck his name is today". 

The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Vexil nods her head, and she follows the once powerful practitioner of magic into the shop. 

While Dorc da Orc after moving to follow them, stops and remains outside after the lord of the death realm quietly says something in the ork language to him. 

The large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque, grunts and remains outside with Draugodrottin, and Zam the ex mercenary. 

On this mostly fine, though partly cloudy and windy spring morning here in the city that's the capital of the city-state of Vexil . . . . . .