Wonderful 27.

Mira Reinholt decides to stretch his legs after dinner, so he goes out onto the long balcony and takes a walk along it. While inside the large open style room that's been his prison cell since arriving here in the Haldéilv family tower, his two guards Harrick and Ginden, are quietly chatting as they share a jug of ale. It was just the three of them at dinner tonight, as the elven magic user Kaldeàlil Haldéilv is dining in the main banquet hall in the keep like tower.
After stripping a couple of leaves off the plant in the garden he's been using to null the side effects of the potion he's been given, and eating them. The mage Reinholt heads to the east side of the balcony, there the two elven house guards who are on duty on the balcony this evening, are quietly chatting to one another in their language.
And as the once powerful mage approaches, he hears that their topic of conversation is pretty much the talk of the tower over the past two days. The visitors from the city of Falnic, one of whom is a justifier, who arrived by wyvern two nights ago.
The exiled Vexilian mage who has met some of the visitors over the last two days, has pretty much tagged them all for being assholes.
He doesn't know the last time he has met people he thoroughly disagrees with and dislikes, hell the mage Reinholt thinks the group he travels with are even better people than this lot from Falnic in the region of Belinswae. And that's saying something, as some of the individuals in the group the swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil usually travels with are the most disreputable people you'll ever likely to meet.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, doesn't get too close to the elven guards, and he moves forward to lean upon the balcony rail, which is thick wall, about waist or lower cheat high.
Mira Reinholt after looking away to the south in the direction of the nomads plains, he looks straight down to the base of the escarpment, there in the village below, which is nearly surrounded on all sides by trees, he can just make out in the fading light of the early evening the pair of wyverns lying in the field on one side of the village.
Seeing the wyverns, who are down there away from the griffon up on top of the Haldéilv tower, who given half a chance will attack and kill the wyverns if lord Haldéilv didn't keep it in line. The Vexilian mage in exile thinks about those who arrived here two nights ago after traveling here from the coast of Belinswae and their city of Falnic, which the mage Reinholt, his guards and his captor, briefly stopped at almost a month ago.
There's the young justifier guards, who are going around proudly wearing on their belts, the scalps of nomads they killed as they made their way here to the elven principality of Maladimbáh.
The elves here think them uncouth for that, but they don't particularly care as they see it as what humans do to one another, and it's always what they've done to one another. Townsmen killing nomads, and vice versa.
The once powerful mage, who doesn't usually care about things like this, found it repugnant. For he spotted quite a few small scalps, obviously children, and from the looks of it, a couple that looked like they were infants.
Even Mira Reinholt's two guards, Harrick and Ginden, who are townsmen themselves, found what they saw disgustung. Though the two of them are from the south of Belinswae, where justifiers are quite weak in their authority. And the fishing villages and towns there, where the mercenary guards hail from, tend to be a truly independent lot, living completely separate in lifestyle and society to much of the rest of Belinswae. It helps that the south of the region of Belinswae along that coast, is much further away from the nomads plains than the rest of the region.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster then thinks of the justifier amongst those who are visiting the home of lord Haldéilv. Mira Reinholt who is unable to sense anything magical at the moment, immediately picked the man for being a mage, he should know, he's one himself. The swordmaster from south of the equator instantly recognized the arrogant attitude and nature of the spellcaster form the coastal city of Falnic as being that which belongs to a mage.
Mira himself was once like that, infact he still can be at times, but over the years, and now into his thirties, he's matured and tempered his arrogant behaviour. Having one's vast magical powers stripped from them will tend to do that to you.
Justifier Kaellin, even the name sounds arrogant, Mira Reinholt the mage thinks to himself, the once powerful mage finds it ironic that for all the arrogance and disdain he saw the mage from the city of Falnic display. That he preferred to be called a justifier instead of a mage, when normally a mage is proud to be identified as one.
Even now, without all his vast stores of power, and what little he has, he can not touch. Mira Reinholt still refers to himself to his calling, a mage.
As if some pisspot title of a political leader of an overgrown fishing town is more important than being the mage that you are, the swordmaster Reinholt thinks to himself in a sour tone, making clear his true feelings of the other mage who is in residence here in the tower of the Haldéilv family.
Though the Vexilian mage in exile is more than a little put out that the other mage here is a guest, while he's a prisoner. And not a prisoner of the elven lord whose tower this is. But the prisoner of the elven lord's bastard daughter, who was beget by the act of rape.
Shows how important you are Mira, the mage Reinholt dryly thinks to himself with a shake of his head, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who of late hasn't been wearing his hooded cloak. Glances over at the two elven guards who he hears talking about the justifier and those with him, who are in the banquet hall at the moment. The mage from south of the equator listens to the two elves for a little while.
"Seems our lord will sign a treaty with this justifier" says one of the elven guards as he and his comrade in arms converse in their native language, he continues with "Hopefully to do business that will help in the shaming of those Walashàelé meat eaters".
Mira Reinholt faintly smiles at the insult of meat eaters to describe the elven noble family in the mountain valley not that far away to the east.
"That's all well in good, but something right now against them would be better" says the second elven house guard, who after glancing to where the mage Reinholt is leaning against the balcony rail, he continues with "Word is from this mage's two guards inside the room, our lord's shame is willing to do something more immediate, and if things are to be believed, way more drastic to the Walashàelé's".
The spellcaster who also happens to be a swordmaster, a highly skilled one at that. Knows that the elves here in the Haldéilv tower, and those in the village below, refer to Kaldeàlil Haldéilv as their lord's shame. Which the attractive elven maid from what the mage Reinholt has seen, couldn't care less about.
Interesting, the once powerful mage thinks to himself as he realises that his captor Kaldeàlil Haldéilv has gone with his idea of doing something a bit more permanent to her father's rivals, instead of the usual humiliation and shame elven nobles here in the principality of Maladimbáh tend to do to one another.
The exiled Vexilian mage moves a bit further along the balcony rail to his right, away from the two elven house guards so that they don't get annoyed with him and tell him to go back inside. In the fading light of the early evening, that's quickly turning to darkness the spellcaster from the Southlands looks up at the night sky for a few moments, then he looks over the balcony rail, and down at the village below at the base of the escarpment.
The mage who was once more powerful of any of his kind, in his generation to be found throughout the Southlands, slightly frowns as he looks down and he thinks he sees something. Then in the soft glow of the light coming from fires and lamps out of open windows and doorways in the houses below, the swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil sees it again in a patch of darkness near some trees on one side of the village below.
It's two small points of blue light, that seems to be looking straight up at him, the spellcaster, swordmaster and adventurer instantly recognises what it is.
Fuck! Mira Reinholt exclaims in his mind as he jerks his head back in surprise and a bit of fright as he wasn't expecting to see that, the Vexilian mage in exile who is surprised he didn't say that out loud. Quickly glances over at the two house guards to make sure they didn't see his reaction to what he spotted below, it looks like they haven't, as they're still deep in their conversation.
The mage Reinholt leans forward again and looks down, he slightly frowns as he looks to the area he spotted the small points of blue light, and he can't see them anymore, then a few moments later they appear again. The exiled Vexilian mage leans an arm out and quickly waves it before bringing it back in.
The small points of blue light, disappear and reappear a moment later, as if someone blinks, for that's exactly what it is.
Mira Reinholt nods as he looks down, then he turns and calls out "Yeah!" followed by "Coming!" in response to Harrick from inside, calling out "Mage, time for it!".
The once powerful mage quickly looks over the balcony rail, and down to one side of the village, to a patch of darkness near some trees, the small pin pricks of blue light have vanished, so the swordmaster Reinholt turns and makes his way back inside the large room that's been his prison cell of late.
Inside, the mercenary guard Harrick says "Here" as he places a small vial on the table, the spellcaster from south of the equator takes it, and drinks the contents, making a face after he does so "Ugh, she still hasn't changed the taste" says the swordmaster Reinholt as he hands the empty vial back to Harrick.
After Harrick and Ginden laugh at the expense of the mage Reinholt, and he briefly stumbles in a sham manner on his way to his bed which he sits upon. The two mercenary guards gather up the trays with the empty plates, mugs, jugs and bowls, and make their way out of the room, wishing the mage a goodnight. The once powerful mage slightly slurs a "Goodnight" to the two of them as they leave.
Then once his guards have left, Mira Reinholt leans back against the wall on one side of the bed he's on, closes his eyes and waits to freed from his prison cell, which he knows will happen this evening . . . . . .