Wonderful 12.

On Land...

Mira Reinholt the mage wakes to a shake to his shoulder and one of the hired mercenaries saying "Wake up mage". The Vexilian mage in exile opens his eyes and looks around, he finds he's on a bed in a room, most likely in the same town they're were in yesterday when he blacked out.
The once powerful mage sits up, and when the local mercenary pops his head in through the door after briefly going outside, and says "Come on, we haven't got all day" Mira Reinholt the mage says "Alright, I'm up" then he sourly smiles as it comes out as a mumble, and realises that he was given some of the potion as he slept.
It takes a little while, but eventually the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster is ready to travel for the day. Then after a quick breakfast, the prisoner, his two guards and his captor are ready to leave the inn they've spent the night at.
They head down to the river, and as always as he walks, the mage Reinholt stumbles every so often, it's the most annoying side effect of the toxins in his body in his opinion. And it's also why one of the hired mercenaries is always close to him, to help him walk when he needs it.
The attractive elven maid Kaldeàlil Haldéilv has booked passage upon a river craft that's going north up river. They board and are soon heading against the current of the river that empties out in the ocean about a dozen miles away from the town.
The once powerful mage knows that the elven magic user is either from this region of Belinswae, or at least somewhere near it. As he overheard in the dinning room of the inn where they stayed and had breakfast earlier this morning. From some river merchants at a nearby table, that elven traders sometimes travel down here from their homeland to the northeast.
The swordmaster Reinholt tries to recall maps he's seen showing this area north of equator on the continent, and if there's an elven principality near the region of Belinswae.
The Vexilian mage doesn't recall one, then again he doesn't know that much of what's here, just the name of a couple of cities north of the plains of Sarvil, which is the very north of the Southlands along the west coast.
The plains the mage Reinholt has learnt where lord Farque died nearly four and half centuries ago when he defeated the emperor of the Holy Norstran Empire, who had crossed the Great Western Ocean and invaded the Southlands.
Mira Reinholt knows they're well north of those particular cities north of the plains of Sarvil, and from the amount of time they spent at sea and  traveling by other means with Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, he guesses they're well over a thousand miles north of the equator, possibly closer to half that again, as they're no longer in the northern tropics, but in a more arid, though still warm climate.
Wherever they are in Belinswae, it reminds the mage Reinholt of the terrain and climate you find in the city-state of Renoa along the coast in the north of the Southlands. Though as he sits in the bow at the rail, the Vexilian mage in exile looks to the east of the river, and sees that the landscape is much dryer than most places you'll find in Renoa the northern most city-state in the Southlands.
The once powerful mage sits back against a travel chest as he's beneath a shade cloth that's been put up by the crew. The swordmaster Reinholt welcomes the shade, as there's hardly any breeze coming off the water, or from the west where the ocean is. It's quite hot today, afterall it is summer here north of the equator in Belinswae.
Not having access to his magical power isn't new to Mira Reinholt, it's happened to him before. A number of years ago when he left the world of Volunell when he accidentally cast a rift/void instead of a regular rift spell, which he's still yet to learn and cast.
Though the Vexilian mage in exile can't actually recall much of his time off world. He knows it was there, where ever there was at the other end of the rift void, that he lost the vast majority of his powers.
The once powerful mage knows he survived that, so he's not too worried about being under the influence of the toxin laced potion he's been forced to have, a potion that cuts him off from what little magical power that remains at his disposal.
The mage Reinholt knows that he'll eventually get free of his current captivity, either by freeing himself, or someone else freeing him. It's just that he doesn't know how long he will be a captive of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster knows that it could be for quite some time.
The Vexilian mage in exile looks over at the elven magic user, who is also under the cloth that's providing shade here in the bow of the river craft, that's heading upstream under the power of both sail and oar.
Mira Reinholt knows that the attractive elven maid who at the moment is reading from a scroll, is using him as bait to lure someone to her. The swordmaster Reinholt slightly shakes his head as he knows that for all the cunning the attractive elven maid possesses, she's no match for the person she's after, the person who killed her lover Xanderlith Karlavilt, in the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands three years ago.
Mirs Reinholt looks away to the east of the river again, and before long he's dozing in the morning heat beneath the cloth that's providing shade to those in the bow. He's soon fully asleep as the river craft continues northwards through the region of Belinswae.
Around midday the once powerful mage is woken up by one of the hired mercenaries, the cook in the galley of the shallow drafting craft has provided them with lunch. The swordmaster Reinholt has a meal of cured meats with figs and cheese, which he rather enjoys. He also likes the cold mint tea with sugar he's given to drink, there's ice in it courtesy of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, it quenches his thirst on this warm summer's day.
Not long after having the midday meal, the mage Reinholt starts dozing again, as he sits upon a soft mat on the wooden deck, while he leans back against the travel chest behind him, he's soon asleep once more.
The exiled Vexilian mage is woken by shouting, he yawns and looks around, then he gets up and moves forward, stumbling just the once, as he gets out from beneath the cloth that's been strung up over most of the fore deck, and he stands in the bow point of the river craft.
"What is it?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage, who to his relief finds that he's not mumbling, and his voice comes out normally, though softly and a little gruff.
"There" says one of the hired mercenaries, who along with the other mercenary, as well as Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, and a couple of the crew, are here in the bow end of the river boat. The swordmaster Reinholt who is glad that a couple of meals and a bit of time have lessened the side effects of the potion that he's under the influence of, looks away into the sky to the east to where the mercenary who spoke to him, is pointing.
With a slight frown upon his face, Mira Reinholt says "Wyverns?" the hired mercenary beside him nods yes, then the once powerful mage murmurs "That's quite a few of them" the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster looks at the elven magic user, who as the only non human onboard, has the best eyesight by far, and he asks her "How many of them up there?".
With a sideways glance at her prisoner the mage Reinholt, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv answers his question with "Nine of them" the attractive elven maid nods her head and says "They are" in response to him asking her "Wild one's?".
The elven magic user who knows the region of Belinswae and the surrounding regions quite well, says "You can get them in even larger flights, up to thirty of them" she continues with "Though you don't usually see them this far west" Kaldeàlil Haldéilv then adds "They've come across the nomads plains to get here".
Mira Reinholt notices something at the mention of the nomads plains, the two crew members here in the bow with them, frown, in a disapproving way, at the mention of that. While the two guards have no reaction to it what so ever.
The once powerful mage wonders if it has something to do with the hired mercenaries being from the coast in the southern part of Belinswae, while he's learnt that the crew, as well as the river craft itself are from a city further north along the coast.
"We're not in any danger are we?" asks the swordmaster Reinholt, who as the more he speaks, he speaks in a normal manner, not so softly as he tends to do as he regains his voice after a certain period of time since he's last had the potion.
"They won't attack" says the attractive elven maid, who then adds "Larger groups might attack people, but smaller flights like this one will usually avoid people" Kaldeàlil Haldéilv pauses for a moment, then she says "Though i wouldn't be surprised if the younger and inexperienced one's mock dive attack us".
Which turns out to be correct a little later, as the river turns slightly eastwards and a pair of the smaller wyverns come and inspect the river craft making it's way northwards. The two fifteen foot long beasts dive down towards the boat a couple of times, pulling up just forty feet above it each time before circling away. They only head off when a larger specimen of the winged creatures approaches from the east and squawks at them loudly in reproach.
Mira Reinholt watches the winged creatures flying away to the east and north as they search for something to hunt. The once powerful mage can't help but wonder if there's those of the group he's a part of, out there somewhere in the world, searching for him, like the wild wyverns are searching for their prey, he hopes they are . . . . . .