The Princeling 232.

After they leave the townhouse of the Aelvilth family, a couple of times Dalinvardél Tanith tries to start a conversation but lord Farque doesn't say anything in response to him. It's only when they turn off the long narrow street that runs along the east side of lord Aelvilth's residence here in the city of Parlindellè, that the lord and ruler of the lands Farque actually says something.
"What is it?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith when the large, heavily armoured figure beside him briefly stops when they round a corner, after a moment lord Farque responds with "Nothing" and he gets underway again, with him gesturing the way to go. They turn left on another street, which they walk along for about thirty yards, until turning right into a lane.
There they see the others standing at the entrance of a yard next to a building that houses what appears to be a smae tavern, the others all turn and look at the two of them as they approach, with the exception of Riley Hait the mercenary ranger who is the yard, and Dorc da Orc who is busy gulping from a barrel of ale.
As they get near the others, Dalinvardél Tanith sees a body lying in the yard near a hitching post for horses, and the mercenary ranger named Riley standing nearby cleaning a small punch dagger with a piece of cloth. The elf who in the conflict over the throne of Alínlae, was working as a secret agent for lord Alvarillé Aelvilth and the royal forces sees that the dead person appears to be an elf, and is wearing what looks like to be a tabard of house Aelvilth on them. He can't recognize who it is as the head is turned away from him as it lies in a slowly expanding pool of blood, but if he did see the face, he would recognise the dead elf as swordmaster Lothalis Miladelè, a senior member of lord Aelvilth's household staff.
"Get rid of that body Mira" orders lord Farque, Mira Reinholt the mage nods his hooded head and makes his way into the yard, passing Riley Hait the mercenary ranger on his way to the body lying in an ever increasing pool of blood.
"Don't look at the light" warns Mira Reinholt the mage to the others, who all obey him with the exception of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque and Dorc da Orc, who has put down his near empty barrel of ale to watch what the once powerful mage does.
The Vexilian mage in exile rolls his eyes as he sees that the large ork is watching, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster shrugs his shoulders and figures the eyes of the ork warleader will protect his sight from the spell he's about to cast.
There's an intense white light and brief flash of heat, and the dead body of the elven swordmaster burns away in an instant, with just a smattering of ashes on the ground in the yard, ashes that will blow away with the slight breeze there is this cool, clear winter's morning in the capital city of the principality of Alínlae.
While Dorc da Orc grunts in disappointment as he briefly smelled burning flesh before the dead body of the warder Miladelè vanished, Mira Reinholt says "Anyone want this?" as he holds up the longsword of Lothalis Miladelè that he's picked up from where it was lying nearby.
"Ooohhhh me" says Dorc da Orc as he recalls that the mage Reinholt said the weapon in question is magical "Me killer" adds the large ork who continues with "Dorc have that magicky fucken sword"
With a roll of his eyes, and a sour muttering "Fuck no" in the language of the Greater Dragons, lord Farque shakes his full helmed head then says in the common language to weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks "No".
Ignoring the glare directed at him by the large ork he named the warleader of that particular race, the undead warlord briefly glances at Caerik Alsair, then Tamric Drubine, just a moment longer at the nobleborn boy from the kingdom of Sarcrin compared to the former air sailor from the city-state of Tuledare. Then turning to the once powerful mage, the heavily armoured deathlord says to the mage Reinholt "Keep it for now mage" Draugadrottin as he's also known by those people who populate his lands, adds "Until someone else is ready for it".
The exiled Vexilian mage who saw the undead warlord briefly look at Caerik Alsair and Tamric Drubine before speaking to him, nods his hooded head in understanding. Mira Reinholt figures that in time one of them will be given the magical sword of protection, and in his opinion, he thinks young Tam will likely receive the weapon, for the boy even at his age, is highly skilled with a sword in hand.
"Let's go" says lord Farque after he briefly glances at Riley Hait the mercenary ranger, the deathlord of Farque walks away, heading through the lane, going by the small tavern as he does so, the others follow, with the mage Reinholt leading the way, and Dorc da Orc bringing up the rear with his pet pig Piggy trotting along beside him.
With the ork weaponsmith biffing away the barrel once he drinks what remains in it, and briefly stopping at the tables infront of the small tavern, where he gobbles up the fried eggs, bacon, and a small round loaf of bread that's the ranger Hait's breakfast, which he hardly touched before the elven swordmaster Lothalis Miladelè showed up.
The mage Reinholt catches up to the large figure in the dark blue/black heavy plate armour, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster settles the magical weapon that belonged to the warder Miladelè, in his weapon belt, it feels a bit strange to him there, as his own sword, is strapped across his back.
The exiled Vexilian mage glances back at Dalinvardél Tanith who is walking with Caerik Alsair and Lisell Maera, while Tamric Drubine is following behind them, between the three of them and the dwadling Dorc da Orc who is at the back with his pet pig beside him.
"How did it go?" asks Mira Reinholt, knowing no matter how quietly he speaks, the following elf will be able to hear what he says to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque "Fine" says the undead warlord in reply, he continues with "He'll be coming with us".
I see that, the once powerful mage dryly thinks to himself, the swordmaster Reinholt then silently adds in the same dry tone, not as though he wouldn't be coming along with us anyway.
The mage Reinholt then quietly asks the undead being who an older generation of elves also know him by the name of Des'tier "So where exactly are we going?" knowing that the deathlord of Farque might answer that literally, the youngest spellcaster to be a part of the mage council of Vexil, quickly adds "When we leave the city?". "Who the fuck knows" is the response of lord Farque who shrugs his broad, heavily armoured shoulders as they cross a street.
Figuring out that the undead warlord hasn't decided yet where they're going, is because a certain someone hasn't yet worked out where the lord and ruler of the lands Farque will want to go, Mira Reinholt quietly asks "Where's the" the exiled Vexilian mage briefly pauses as he was about to say where's the elf, which is bit redundant now as there's now two elves in the group, so he continues on with "Thief?".
"Checking up on something" says lord Farque in response to the mage Reinholt's question, the undead warlord is sensing out to where the person in question is, who left the Aelvilth family townhouse a bit before he and Dalinvardél Tanith left it.
Helbe the elven thief looks down, and watches a squad of combined guards from the palace and a few noble houses who are their allies, go by on the street below. The elven princeling looks northward in the direction he's come from, back across the large park that dominates the center of the city of Parlindellè, to where the townhouse of Aelvilth family is located. The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel briefly thinks about Lelalwynn Aelvilth, then he looks back down at the street below.
Helbenthril Raendril, the youngest member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel, is on a rooftop in the area of the city just south of the large park, where the battle took place last night, the elven masterthief who is blured and shielded, takes a deep breath of the cool morning air, then he shifts away again.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel is now on the roof of the long, and badly damaged building, where a particular fierce magical battle, which he was amongst, took place during the night. The elven master assassin as he stands on the east side of the roof, looks down into the long lane below, a few moments later and Narladene the ground pixie appears next to him, and settles upon his right shoulder.
"They've found him, and they're bringing him out" quietly murmurs Narladene the ground pixie, the young elven noble nods his hooded head as he looks down at those in the lane. There's a number of prominent members of the royal forces in the lane below, including the new ruling prince of Alínlae, Salílvel Avendelthíl.
Helbe the elven thief slightly shakes his hooded head, for he didn't think the young prince who is only a little bit older than himself, would be the new ruler of Alínlae so soon, if at all, but with his father Ralivandil and his older brother Dasaevallé getting themselves killed in the battle during the night, prince Salílvel is now the new ruler of the principality of Alínlae.
The elven master archer briefly looks to where the body of Xanderlith Karlavilt the elven swordmaster, who he killed last night, lies on the verge of the grass on the open ground near a tree, with a pair of palace guards standing nearby it. Then Helbenthril Raendril looks to the left, as a number of people come out of the building he's standing on top of, one of whom is Halvelnín Aelvilth, who is followed by a number of palace, royal, and guards from his own household, some of whom are carrying a dead body.
The young elven noble watches as they carry the body of lord Tarvenillé Karlavilt, who he also killed last night in the battle, with the aid of a mageglobe created by Mira Reinholt, across the lane, to where his dead son lies. The body of dead elven lord is placed on the ground next to the dead heir of the now destroyed house Karlavilt, a number of those in the lane walk over to stand nearby and look at the two elven nobles who were their enemy.
Helbe the elven thief listens to the group discuss a number of things, with the Master of Swords Nalathinéllé Aelvilth, Halvelnín Aelvilth and young Prince Avendelthíl being the most vocal out of the lot. The elven princeling nods his hooded head and what he hears, then he glances at the ground pixie who is attached to him, who quietly murmurs "Magic" followed by "A rift".
The young elven noble looks to where Narladene points, and out in the open ground, about forty yards from the lane below, a rift forms, and a number of Aelvilth family house guards walk from the rift, they're followed by lord Alvarillé Aelvilth himself, then finally Lelalwynn Aelvilth, who as the caster of the rift, comes out of it last, before she gets rid of it.
As those who came out of the rift make their way to where the others are in the lane, Helbenthril Raendril has eyes only for the elven maid Lelalwynn Aelvilth, who in all likelihood will be his wife one day. The blured and shielded elven masterthief doesn't watch her for too long just incase Narladene notices him paying too much attention to the daughter of lord Aelvilth.
Instead the elven princeling looks one more time at the dead elven nobles Tarvenillé and Xanderlith Karlavilt, and those in the group nearby who are discussing matters of importance to the principality of Alínlae. Then after a final glance at Lelalwynn Aelvilth, Helbe the elven thief murmurs to Narladene the ground pixie "Let's get back to the others" and he shifts away . . . . . .