Wonderful 100.

The Principality Of Maladimbah...

As lord Haldéilv plans with a number of his officers in a forest glade not far from the river that marks the border between his lands and his neighbour lord Walashàele.
His rival lord Walashàele is the riverside town on his side of the border. Where he's just discussed with his officers, and the illegitimate daughter of his neighbour, what he's going to do. And has just decided on his first course of action.
As guards in the service of house Walashàele cross over the bridges into the lands of the neighbouring elven noble house. The ground pixie who is attached to lord Walashàele, Palamarc is watching and listening to what lord Haldéilv is doing, without the head of house Haldéilv knowing he's about.
Helbe the elven thief learns all of this, by watching what's happening near the river as he's up a tree, blurred and shielded. And when lord Farque joins him up the tree, telling him not just what he can see, but what he can also sense, which is far more than what the elven masterthief can sense.
The two from south of the equator, aren't that interested in the impeding conflict between the two local elven lords that's about to happen at any moment this morning.
What they're interested in is the illegitimate daughter of lord Haldéilv, one Kaldeàlil Haldéilv. Who has wanted the elven princeling dead for the last three years. And who a couple of months ago, with the help of a the last abbot of the church Galavin in the Southlands, who is now dead. Sent the undead warlord to the bottom of the Great Western Ocean.
As the heavily armoured deathlord informs the elven masterthief about elven mercenaries hired by Kaldeàlil Haldéilv are already in the lands of house Haldéilv disguised as house guards in the service of lord Walashàele.
Further west in the valley that's predominantly covered in forest, nearly six miles from the river that marks the border between the lands of the two neighbouring noble houses here in the south of the principality of Maladimbáh.
The group of Riley Hait the mercrnary ranger, Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, Shur Kee the monk, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera are not far from the tower of lord Haldéilv. Watching what's happening at and near the palace like tower that sits upon a tor that sticks up out of the valley floor.
They were briefly told by lord Farque when they met up with him, how you can enter the tower. Though those ways will be guarded, even with a lot of lord Haldéilv's house guards having left it, and making their way to the river that's the border between the lands of the two neighbouring noble houses.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque suggested that apart from climbing the tor, which is what he did when he entered lord Haldéilv's tower a couple of weeks ago. Which he also suggested they shouldn't do, as the rock walls are sheer, smooth and completely vertical in a lot of places, that it's impossible to climb for a normal person.
That there's probably other ways into and up the tower that aren't so obvious. And as the spy Tanith and the ranger Hait lie behind a deadfall, watching the tower that's only a couple of hundred yards away.
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, spots something on the opposite side from where the town is situated at the base of the tor. It's a stream that's a tributary of the river to the east.
And it looks like it flows into the rocky tor, on it's northeast side. Dalinvardél Tanith is pretty certain there's an opening there in the base of the tor that the stream goes into. It's more than likely, that the stream is one of the water supplies for the tower upon the tor.
As the elven spy informs Riley Hait the mercenary ranger of this. Further back east in the valley, about a couple of miles away from where the group from the Southlands are observing the seat of power of the head of house Haldéilv.
Two more of their group from south of the equator, who they've not seen in a few months. Are on one of the roads that runs through the forest that covers much of the valley, especially on this side of the river, in lord Haldéilv's lands.
Mira Reinholt the mage winces, then shakes his hooded head, and sourly smiles as he looks over at Dorc da Orc who is busy fucking a horse to death. The large ork is busy thrusting away at the horse as he holds it's hind legs which are broken as it's on it's back. That he doesn't even notice the wounded elven house guard who is crawling in his direction, with a long dagger in hand.
Well to the mage Reinholt it looks like the ork warleader is preoccupied to notice the elven house guard who is crawling towards him, dragging a shattered leg behind him, grimacing in agony with each movement he makes, though he keeps a tight grip upon the long dagger he's holding.
Not to mention the horse is neighing in pain and distress, coupled with Dorkindle grunting in effort as he humps his poor equine victim to death, who he's talking sweet nothings to. Which the Vexilian mage in exile is glad he's doing in the ork language, as that's definitely something he doesn't what to hear.
The once powerful mage leans back against the tree behind him, then slightly grins as he watches the injured house guard crawling towards the large ork who is busy fucking the horse.
The mage Reinholt is silent and doesn't say a thing, not even when the injured house guard looks in his direction to see if he does anything. The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordsmaster just continues to slightly grin as he watches things unfold.
The elven house guard with the shattered leg lifts his upper body up, and rears back his right arm, in which hand he's got his long dagger.
Which it looks like he's going to slam into the large ork's right leg, exposed ass, or lower back. Mira Reinholt hopes he shoves it into Dorc's shitty ring hole.
Well that's what would happen as the injured house guard swings his arm forward. If Dorc da Orc without skipping a beat as he continues to fuck the crippled horse to death. Didn't swing his right arm back without looking back behind him. His massive right fist clips the side of the house guard's head, which snaps to the side with an audible crack as it breaks. The elven guard in the service of lord Haldéilv falls on his face dead.
The mage Reinholt sourly smiles, and shakes his hooded head once more as he looks at the dead elf, while the ork weaponsmith continues to fuck the horse to death.
A few moments later and the large ork climaxes, he gets up grunting, with his front covered in blood and horse shit, Dorc da Orc turns around and says "You coulda fucken told me that cunt was there killer" as he glances down at the dead elven house guards, the large ork then mutters "Me only smell the fruity fuckface at the last moment".
"I wanted to give him a sporting chance" dryly says Mira Reinholt the mage, who turns around saying "Hurry up, we've got to catch up to the others" the ork warleader grunts as he pulls up his grubby knee length pants, while the once powerful mage walks away.
The mage Reinholt kicks an elven house guard in the head who is still moving, her head whips to one side as she's crawling off the road. The Vexilian mage in exile doesn't know if she's dead, but she's no longer moving so he doesn't care.
The highly skilled swordmaster looks back and sees Dorc da Orc pulling one of his spears out of house guard pinned to a tree, the large ork growls something at the dead elf in his native language, then frowns as he examines the spearhead.
Then the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts and looks away to the right through the trees off the road in that direction, where he spies one of the house guards mounts wandering between the trees.
Not wanting the warleader of the ork race to get distracted again, the once powerful mage calls out again "Hurry up Dorc!". "Yeah, yeah cunt" mutters Dorkindle, who then scowls as the nearby horse gets spooked by something, most probably the smell of the large ork, and it takes off running through the trees on the north side of the road.
The ork warleader who like his fellow traveler from south of the equator is in exile from his homeland, grunts then jogs after the mage Reinholt who is walking quickly away to the west along the forest road. Dorc da Orc briefly stops to pick up one of his axes that he threw at one of the guards in the service of house Haldéilv, as he catches up to the Vexilian mage in exile.
Once the ork weaponsmith is closer, the swordsmaster Reinholt asks him "Are they still to the west of us?" the large ork grunts then after muttering "Not north" he says "Yep" he waves a hand towards the southwest, and says "That fucken way" Dorkindle who is sniffing, adds "Them cunts have stopped".
The spellcaster who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation in the Southlands nods his hooded head, as he figures that the rest of the group must be near or at the tower of house Haldéilv. The local lord's residence and seat of power, where up until a couple of weeks ago, the swordsmaster from the city-state of Vexil was being held prisoner by the elven magic user Kaldeàlil Haldéilv.
The mage Reinholt who knows that this road approaches the tower from the northeast, unlike the main road that goes through the forest, which heads east out of the town at the base of the tor, upon which the tower of lord Haldéilv sits. Says to the ork warleader "Let's head off the road and cut through the forest again".
The highly skilled swordsmaster gets off the road and enters the trees to the south of the road, followed by the big ork who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks. They keep the road to their right in sight as they continue to the west and south, hoping to catch up to the rest of the group from the Southlands, with the exception of lord Farque and Helbe the elven thief. Who according to Dorc da Orc's sense of smell, is somewhere to the east in the valley, near the river that's the natural boundary between the lands of house Haldéilv and house Walashàele.
"We'll draw her west to her father's tower where the others are waiting" says lord Farque, on one of the branches on the east facing side of the tree, Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head, and the undead warlord who is on a branch on the otherside of the tree, and is looking around the tree trunk, adds "Let that ground pixie lead her then if we can't get her before that".
"Sounds good to me" quietly says Helbe the elven thief as the two of them converse in the royal language of elven kind, the young elven noble who is blurred and shielded, then asks "Is that ground pixie still to the north of us?".
"It is" replies the heavily armoured deathlord who continues with "Keeping an eye on her father" the elven masterthief slightly nods then quietly says to the lord of the death realm "Let's do this then". "First thing first" says the deathlord of Farque who then continues in a dry tone with "I have to get that gnat of yours".
The elven princeling grins, then he shifts to the ground below. While lord Farque just drops down through the eighty foot pine, smashing through the lower branches to slow his momentum before he lands on the ground, with a slight bend in his knees.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque who is also known as Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, nods his full helmed head to the north. The elven master assassin heads that way, to the forest glade where lord Haldéilv is. And where the ground pixie attached to lord Walashàele's is spying on the head of house Haldéilv.
As the elven masterthief walks quickly to the forest glade about half a mile away, lord Farque walks a little slower, looking at various rocks and boulders in the forest floor as the morning progresses.
The heavily armoured deathlord spots one to his liking, it's a flat rock a couple of feet wide. He stops next to it, and knowing that it can't be helped that the ground pixie to the north will notice.
He stamps on the rock with one of his steel boots a few times, making sure not to shatter the rock. The lord of the death realm waits a couple of moments, then he does it again.
Des'tier as he's known by an older generation of elves in the Southlands who might know who he is, nods his full helmed head when he senses Narladene the ground pixie in the town on the banks of the otherside of the river, start heading this way.
Lord Farque continues on his way to the north to the forest glade that Helbe the elven thief is also heading to, as he does, the undead warlord senses everyone not just in the immediate area, but through the entire valley. Keeping a track of where everyone is, especially the rest of the group from the Southlands . . . . . .