Wonderful 61

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

The next day, and the group from the Southlands get off the river barges they hired in the town they came across yesterday. They left there yesterday afternoon, and stopped overnight in a small village, before continuing south on the river just before sunrise this morning. They disembarked at another riverside town, before the river turns east and empties out in a lake a half a dozen miles away.
After getting their mounts off the barges, and briefly stopping at a tavern in the town for a late breakfast, or early lunch. They continue their way southwards along a road. It's not long after leaving the town that it starts to lightly rain.
"You know, this is first rain since" says Tamric Drubine as he rides beside Lisell Maera "Well, forever it feels like it" continues the nobleborn boy from the kingdom of Sarcrin, who then adds "Definitely the first time since we came north out of the Southlands".
The teenage orphan from the city-state of Brattonbury nods her head in agreement, as it does indeed feel like forever since they've seen rain. For the region of Belinswae is fairly dry, while the nomads plains are even drier, much drier.
As the rain continues to fall, they look up at the tall peaks to either side of the road, which out of the town, is paved with stones, for at least a few miles before it turns to hard packed dirt. It's not often you see roads like this in elven principalities, unless it's in and out of large towns or cities, not small riverside towns in the middle of nowhere.
Up ahead of the two youngest members of the group, the elven spy Dalinvardél Tanith and Riley Hait the mercenary ranger are discussing the road that's turned from stone to hard packed dirt beneath the hooves of their horses.
"That road is dwarven" says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy as he nods his hooded head back at the stone road behind them "It is?" says Riley Hait the mercenary ranger who lifts the traditional black hordes cloth he wears around his neck, to cover his head, though leaving his face open and uncovered as it continues to rain.
"Definitely dwarven" says the spy Tanith who then adds "Our esteemed leader the royal thief found out that there used to be a fair amount of dwarves in the principality" he waves to their right as he continues with "Apparently they had a mountain stronghold in the west of Maladimbáh, until they got run out of there well over a thousand years ago".
"Probably those dwarves we saw in Falnic, those ones visiting down from the north along the coast, are the descendants of the dwarves who lived here in Maladimbáh" muses the ranger Hait as he recalls when he and the elven spy saw a troop of dwarves in the coast city of Falnic in the region of Belinswae "Where were that lot from again?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith "The Stone Hills i think it was" replies Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman "Yeah that was it" says the elf who is from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands.
While the mercenary ranger and the elven spy, who are riding behind sir Percavelle Lé Dic who is out infront, continue to chat as the rain gets slightly heavier.
The youngest members of the groups who are infront of Shur Kee the monk who is at the rear of the group with the two pack horses, are in a quiet conversation of their own.
"I wonder how we're going to handle things once we get further south to this lord Haldéilv's lands?" says Tamric Drubine who is leading the horse that Helbe the elven thief rides when he's with the group. For the young elven noble as usual is nowhere to be seen, for they all know he's out infront of the group somewhere, scouting out what they've yet to travel.
"I wonder if they're there, any of them" says Lisell Maera, who of course is referring to lord Farque, Dorc da Orc and Mira Reinholt the mage. For they know that the mage Reinholt was in the city of Falnic in Belinswae, a captive of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv. An elven magic user who is on a personal vendetta against Helbe the elven thief, who is the nominal leader of the group in the absence of the three missing members of the group.
"Hopefully Mira is there" says the son of the former knight of castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin "Or at least near it, after escaping from her" adds Tam, Lis nods her head but doesn't say anything, infact she falls silent.
After wiping rain of fhis face, the nobleborn boy who has a magical sword on his hip, glances sideways at the tall, lanky teenage girl riding beside him. Tamric Drubine refrains from frowning as he's noticed that Lis often falls silent of late, ever since she was briefly taken captive during their stay in Belinswae.
Though the youngster who more than likely will be a swordsmaster one day, knows he and the orphan teenager are not the closest of friends, and probably never will be. They do usually engage in easy conversations, especially when they're traveling, as they tend to be next to one another, especially when they're traveling on horseback.
Tamric Drubine who is just thinking of saying something to change the subject, hoping to engage Lisell Maera, wryly smiles as his horse shakes its mane, spraying his face with water droplets.
After wiping his face again, the nobleborn adolescent from the kingdom of Sarcrin says "Almost forgot what riding in the rain is like" Tam glances up at the low clouds obscuring a lot of the tops of the nearby mountains, then says "Rather enjoying the rain after not seeing it for so long".
"Damn rain, i hate it" mutters Tamric Drubine later in the day. It's the afternoon, and the light steady rain of the morning, has turned to heavy steady rain, often torrential as it pours down from the low cloud cover that's over much of the central region of Maladimbáh.
The group from south of the equator are heading up the road, that's turned to mud along a lot of it's edges. They're lucky there aren't that many others using it, to churn up the center of the road, which for the moment is still relatively firm.
Their horses head up a forested hill, thick with various types of pines on either side of the road. They haven't seen another traveler since just after they stopped at midday for a brief meal, where they saw a rider heading north.
At the crest of the hill they find Helbe the elven thief standing beneath a tree, who tells them "There's a village down in the valley below" the young elven noble who is dry, while the rest of them are soaked, continues with "We'll stop there" the elven magic user glances up at the sky as he adds "This rain won't stop until sometime later this evening".
"Can't you do something about the rain?" asks a hopeful Tamric Drubine "I'm not that powerful" dryly says the elven masterthief who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel. There's a rather forlorn look on the face of the nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin when the elven masterthief tells him that.
The elven princeling says "I'll see you there" then he disappears from sight as he shifts away, he has no intention of riding with the others and getting wet like they are.
"Lucky for some" mutters Tamric Drubine as he looks at the spot where the young elven noble was, then down into the valley where the village apparently is. The son of the former knight of castle Drubine, along with the other humans in the group can't see the village at the moment, but Dalinvardél Tanith can see it in the distance, though not that clearly due to the low cloud cover and heavy rain.
They continue on their way downhill, all of them wet to varying degrees, with sir Percavelle Lé Dic who is out infront, the driest of them all. As there are some advantages to being encased in full suit of heavy plate armour. Though the constant pinging of the heavy rain on his armour, has put the usually boisterous nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic into a slightly dour mood.
Which is fine by the others, as the constant loud comments from the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che can get a bit annoying at times. Even Shur Kee the monk, the most patient of them, finds the heavily armoured knights constant blathering as they ride a test upon his patience and tranquility. It's one of the reason the short statured monk prefers to ride at the back of the line with the pack horses, as far from sir Percavelle as possible.
They're soon down in the valley, and later in the afternoon they see the village up ahead. It's like a lot of villages in the elven principality of Maladimbáh, relatively small, and surrounded by woods. Though this village does boast a tavern come inn, which isn't the norm for most of the smaller villages throughout the principality.
There's even a stable beside the tavern, though it's small, and some of the horses have to double up in the stalls. Tamric Drubine after using a curry brush on his mount, and giving it a half bucket of oats. Is the last along with Shur Kee the monk to hurry through the falling rain to the tavern.
After taking off his wet cloak and shaking it as he stands on the covered porch, the nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin enters the tavern saying to the acolyte in the order of Bru Li "I hope they've got a hot meal of some kind".
The monk from the far eastern coastal kingdom of Wah Lee which is located on the otherside of the continent, faintly smiles, as he knows as well Tam, that elves tend to have cold meals during the summer time, even on rainy days like this. It's not often you'll get a hot meal, even in the evening, especially since most elves are vegetarians, and especially in a village like this, where they don't exactly get a lot of visitors who aren't elven kind.
After sitting down at one of the two round tables the group are sitting at, Tamric Drubine smiles sourly when the server, an elven maid informs him and the others what's to eat. Though he slightly grins when she commends him on his command of the elven language when he tells her what he wants.
Then after she's left the common room, the nobleborn youngster looks around at the others who are in the tavern. There's not many, just a pair of elves sitting at a corner table, quietly discussing the weather, and how it'll effect their business, which seems to be haulage.
Another elf sits at a table alone, from his heavily muscled forearms, and the long leather apron he's wearing, he's obviously a smith or an apprentice smith, more than likely from the smithy they passed as they entered the village from the north.
There's also a pair of guards in the service of the local lord, their mounts are the only other ones in the stables next to the tavern.
"Are we going to stay here tonight?" asks Tamric Drubine who sits with Helbe the elven thief and Riley Hait the mercenary ranger at one table. While sir Percavelle Lé Dic, Shur Kee, Lisell Maera and Dalinvardél Tanith sit at the next table along.
"We are" replies Helbe the elven thief, who grins as the nobleborn boy from the kingdom of Sarcrin looks at the plate of food that's put down infront of him by the server, there's an unenthusiastic look upon Tams face as he stares at the leaves, vegetables, fruit and nus on his plate. Though he does slightly brightened up when a warm loaf of bread is put on a board in the center of the table, as well as a saucer with butter on it.
"Bread's good" mumbles Tamric Drubine who is into the bread first, ignoring his plate of food for now, he might pick at the fruit and nuts on it later, but that's it.
As the group from the Southlands eat, Helbenthril Raendril who can't help himself, and because it's a good habit to have when one's traveling. Reads the minds of the other customers in the tavern, as well as those who work here.
The nobleborn elf slightly frowns after he reads the mind of the two guards of the local lord.
The ranger Hait who is eating the segments of a citrus fruit notices the frown upon the face of the hooded figure of the elven masterthief, the mercenary ranger quietly asks the elven princeling "What is it?".
Knowing that every elf here in the common room will hear him, no matter how quietly he speaks. Helbe the elven thief replies to Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson's question by using mindspeech.
Riley Hait lifts an eyebrow in surprise, then frowns when he hears in his mind what Helbe the elven thief explains to him about something . . . . . .