You Want A War? You've Got One! Prologue 2.

Falnic, Belinswae. Autumn...

"Well if that's the way they're going to behave, then the bunch of them can go and get fucked is what i say" says Thane Kraelin, Baedin Kraelin the dwarven chieftain and hammermaster winces at that assessment from his nephew, though inwardly he agrees with his sister's son.
It doesn't help that the rest of the warriors around the table, and the one's at the tables to either side, voice their approval with what Thane just said.
And though the hammermaster who is the chieftain of his clan tries to inwardly sigh, it escapes his lips, and he picks up his mug and downs his ale to cover it.
Fuck me, what's the world bloody well coming to, Baedin Kraelin thinks to himself with a slight shake of his head. He never thought it would get to this, but it has, and in a very short time too.
He and members of his clan have traveled down from their homeland the Stone Hills, to the city of Falnic. To get compensation from the justifier's of Belinswae for an attack upon one of their trade caravans on the road from the Stone Hills, to the coastal city of Falnic.
It's not the first such occurrence, there was one at the start of autumn, on a small group traveling down here to Falnic. It happens on occasion, there are road bandits about after all.
But none have attacked in over five years on the roads between the Stone Hills and Belinswae proper.
And the more recent attack on clan Kraelin's trade caravan wasn't perpetrated by road bandits. These were soldiers through and through.
One of whom was caught as some of the others escaped, and after careful questioning by some of Baedin's warriors, which he admits was torture. As well as the prisoner being given to his cousin Olmack the delver. Who read the human's mind, and found him to be a justifier's guard from Falnic in disguise.
The clan chieftain and a band of warriors set off immediately for Falnic to demand compensation for the loss of lives, and the loss of goods from the trade caravan.
They could of gone to the justifier who is closest to the Stone Hills. Parsane, who lives in a town about forty miles south of the Stone Hills. But the chieftain of the Kraelin clan knows that the old wizard is as worthless as tin coins. There's a reason he's posted to the remote north of Belinswae for the last twenty years.
The other justifiers want him out of the way, and out of their schemes. Especially the scheming of the justifiers of Falnic. The largest and most important city in the region of Belinswae.
"I don't like this one jot chief" says Karne, the dwarven warrior who has known the chieftain the longest. Karne who is sitting to Baedin's left, continues with "The justifiers are pissy to begin with, always trying to get the cheapest price, and to rip us off whenever they can" the warrior who favours the axe, shakes his head, and pulls on his beard, before he adds "But this one, and the others backing him, which by the gods is almost all of them, is playing a dangerous game of it".
"Aye" says the hammermaster Baedin Kraelin, the dwarven chieftain who is now grey haired, and grey bearded, though still as strong and robust as was at thirty, now that he's two hundred and forty. Looks at the rest at the table, and says to them "You lads go up and get some more to drink and eat".
The clan chieftain adds "You too Thane" when he sees his nephew is about to protest. His sister's son looks at him then at old Karne, then Thane gets up with the other warriors, and they make their way from the table.
The chief of the Kraelin clan looks at the rest of the party at the two tables to either side of the one he's at. They notice their chieftain looking at them, and all of a sudden they start to get a lot noisier, as is often the case when dwarves drink, even in the middle of the day, as it now.
They're in a dwarven owned tavern near the docks in Falnic. The owner maybe a city dwarf, whose family left the Stone Hills centuries ago. But he still holds to the traditions of the dwarves of the Stone Hills. That's why you'll always find Stone Hill dwarves here whenever they're visiting the port city of Falnic.
"We're not the only ones running into trouble along the trade routes between here and home" quietly says Baedin Kraelin to his old compatriot Karne "Thane and some of the other lads heard talk in one of the market squares this morning, that other caravans have been attacked traveling down here from home".
"By Thaxel's beard, the fuck?" mutters Karne, who got the nickname Axe Thrower in his youth, as he has a tendency to throw them in battle. Even the heavy dwarven waraxe, which he has a pair of, crisscrossed on his back at this moment.
"Aye indeed" quietly says the clan chieftain who is often acknowledged as the best wielder of the warhammer in the entire Stone Hills. The head of clan Kraelin continues with "And not just by the one whose guards we caught out".
"The human fuckers" mutters the old dwarven warrior the other clan members refer to often as not, as Thrower or just plain Axe. "The lads hear what clan apart from ours got hit?" asks Karne aka Axe Thrower.
Before the clan chieftain can reply, the tavern door to outside bangs open. And with the cool air coming in off the harbour enters the tavern, so does the answer to Karne's question.
"Fuck me, it's those Galve bastards" says Axe Thrower as they look at who enters the tavern "Aye" sourly says the hammermaster Baedin Kraelin as they watch the dwarves who are entering the tavern.
"That shit heel Lomi is here himself" mutters Karne, beside him, his clan chief grimaces at the sight of the chieftain of clan Galve. A clan that though clan Kraelin isn't at war with, they don't exactly get along with.
"Looks like you've bitten into something sour chief" quietly says Axe Thrower "Aye" mutters Baedin the hammermaster, who after a slight pause, quietly says "I just might have to at that".
There's a brief few moments of silence as those in the tavern, especially the clan Kraelin warriors watch the newcomers, who look at them, in particular in return. The normal flow of conversation returns after Baedin Kraelin nods his head, and makes a beckoning gesture to his fellow clan chief, Lomi Galve.
Lifting an eyebrow in surprise, the old warrior Karne murmurs to his clan chieftain "You alight there chief?". "Not particularly" quietly replies the chieftain of the Kraelin clan as they watch the clan leader of clan Galve and one of his warriors make their way over to them, while the rest of the Galve party find seats at other tables.
The hammermaster Baedin nods for the two Galve dwarves to sit, they do, and as no one says anything. The dwarven tavern owner bustles over with a tray of mugs, quickly putting down a mug infront of the two newcomers at the table.
After the tavern owner moves off, and after he takes a long drink of ale, Lomi Galve puts down his mug, wipes his beard and quietly says "Still got that big bloody hammer of yours i see". "Aye" says Baedin Kraelin, who then adds "It's good for smacking in the heads of those i disagree with".
The Galve clan chieftain stares at his fellow chief from the Stone Hills, then he says "Aye, that it is" then after a quick glance around, Lomi Galve mutters "Might need the big bloody thing to smack in some of the fucking locals heads".
This time the Kraelin clan chieftain does refrain from sighing out loud, and does it inwardly, as he agrees with his fellow clan chieftain. So instead he nods in agreement with the Galve clan leader, and quietly says "Aye, i just might have to".
After nodding, Lomi Galve looks at old Karne next to Baedin Kraelin and says "Axe Thrower, i see you'll still hanging around with this idiot". "Aye chief Lomi" says the old dwarven warrior who then adds "Beats hanging around with my wife" Karne then dryly says "The damn she devil".
The Galve clan chieftain laughs at that, and even Baedin Kraelin chuckles, while the silent, fourth dwarf at the table, cracks a smile.
"Varl" says the hammermaster Baedin to the fourth dwarf at the table "Varl" adds Karne aka Axe Thrower. Both of them surprisingly saying that name with a bit of respect.
Which is answered in kind, by the dwarven warrior named Varl, who says first "Chief Baedin" followed by "Axe" to the two dwarves from clan Kraelin.
Baedin Kraelin looks at the youngest of the four dwarves at the table, who stands nearly half a foot taller than the average dwarf. Who has a dark bristling beard, while most Stone Hill dwarves tend to have brown, blond, or red hair.
Another thing that sets Varl apart, is that he has a sword at his side. Not a weapon that dwarven warriors tend to use as their primary weapon. Infact a lot of dwarves disdain the use of a sword. But not Varl of clan Galve, who happens to be the only dwarven swordmaster in the Stone Hills. A feat unheard of, especially of a dwarf who is only a three decades over a century in age.
"So i gather what's brought you here, is the same reason why me and my lads are here" quietly says Baedin Kraelin as he looks again at the clan chieftain sitting opposite him "Aye, from what i gather, it is" replies Lomi Galve, the chieftain of clan Kraelin nods, then he quietly asks "What happened?".
The hammermaster along with his old compatriot Axe Thrower listen in silence to the chieftain of the Galve clan who tells them about a raid upon one of his caravans transporting iron ore to Falnic from the Stone Hills.
It was no road bandits involved in the attack, for the attackers had a pair of tame wyverns with them. And though some of the wealthy trading factors have wyverns that are battle trained. Those wyverns from Belinswae that are predominantly used in battle instead of straight transport or used for messengers. Belong to the justifiers of Belinswae, who use them to raid into the Nomad's Plains to the east. Where they undertake their ongoing campaign to wipe out the nomad barbarians.
"You know which justifier was behind it?" quietly asks Baedin Kraelin, Lomi Galve shakes his head, and replies with "Could be any of them" the chief of clan Galve continues with "Especially with the way some of them have been acting lately, what with the negotiations with the elves of Maladimbáh failing again as it did in the summer".
The hammermaster grunts in agreement, as he too, along with most of the city of Falnic has heard about the failed attempt last month of one of the city's justifiers to have some of his guards stationed in the elven principality of Maladimbáh so that they can more easily raid into the plains of the nomad tribes.
"Well since the season for raiding into the plains is basically over until spring" quietly says Baedin Kraelin, who pauses for a moment, before he adds "You think they're looking north to us instead?".
"Aye looks like it" says Lomi Galve, who then asks his fellow clan chieftain from the Stone Hills "But after long centuries of peace between them and us, by Thaxel and Dovarn why the fuck would they do this now?".
"Aye, why indeed" quietly says Baedin Kraelin the hammermaster . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! Prologue.

Maladimbáh. Early Autumn...

"Did he say what he wants?" asks lord Walashàele "No, nothing" replies Galacithàné Walashàele as the two of them walk along a hallway in the manse of house Walashàele "Though I'm guessing he's here to table the same offer he gave to lord Haldéilv" adds the younger Walashàele cousin.
"No guessing about it, that's exactly why he's here" says the head of house Walashàele as the two come up towards a bay window, the two elven nobles stop at the window, and look down at the main courtyard of the manse.
There at the far end of the large courtyard, crouch a pair of wyverns from the city of Falnic in the region of Belinswae to the southwest, on the otherside of the Nomad's Plains.
The pair of wyverns, along with the justifier's guards with them, look more than a little nervous. Probably because of lord Walashàele's griffon on the rooftop above, is occasionally squawking in anger at the presence of the two wyverns at the other end of the main courtyard.
Lord Walashàele who has just been up to calm his griffon, which would of attacked the two wyverns from the coast if he hadn't, says to his younger cousin "Let's go and hear what he has to say" the younger elven noble nods his head to that as they get underway again.
The two elven nobles, one of whom is the most powerful lord, not just in the south of Maladimbáh now, but in all the principality. Make their way downstairs, and onto the ground floor of the manse, they're met by lord Walashàele's children, Jalindílth and Yamethé, in a hallway to the reception room.
Looking at the twins who are his offspring, the lord of house Walashàele says to them "I guess you've figured out why he's here". "We have" says Yamethé Walashàele, looking at his daughter Jalindílth, lord Walashàele faintly grimaces when she says "Father, tell him to fuck off" the attractive elven maid then adds "We'll get nothing out of the deal that's for sure, and besides i bet he won't offer anything better than what he did lord Haldéilv".
With that lord Walashàele certainly agrees with his daughter. Who like him was injured in the battle against house Haldéilv at the end of summer. The two of them had to be healed fairly immediately by magical means on that day or they would of ended up being dead.
The head of house Walashàele, a elf who is often overbearing, is also pragmatic about things. And he couldn't of cared less if they had lost the battle against his rival and neighbour, lord Haldéilv.
But to lose his daughter that day would of been unforgivable, something he keeps in mind when he enters the antechamber of the reception room with his younger cousin Galacithàné. While his offspring, the twins remain out in the hallway.
With the door to the hallway closing behind them, Galacithàné Walashàele casts a spell to stop anyone from hearing or seeing anything in both the antechamber and the reception room beyond.
"How was he again on the day of the battle?" asks lord Walashàele "He fled just like i did" says the younger of the two cousins, who continues in a slightly dry tone with "I can't blame him there".
The head of house Walashàele nods in understanding, as he's been informed by his younger cousin Galacithàné all about what happened in the tower of house Haldéilv on the day of the battle at the end of summer.
And how their guest in the reception room, who was a guest at that time of lord Haldéilv. Escaped with his life like Galacithàné, from those who attacked the tower, to kill lord Haldéilv's illegitimate daughter, Kaldeàlil.
"For a mage, you would of thought he would of stuck up more of a fight" muses lord Walashàele "Maybe" quietly says the elven noble who is the second in command of the army of house Walashàele.
Galacithàné Walashàele continues with "That lot were a nightmare, i doubt anyone could of stopped them" the elven magic user then adds "And besides it wasn't his fight".
Lord Walashàele nods his head in agreement with that, then he quietly says "They've been wanting to expand their borders for centuries, not just into the plains, but also south and north along the coast".
"Good luck with that" dryly murmurs Galacithàné, the head of house Walashàele smiles in agreement with that sentiment, then his younger cousin quietly asks him "Will you grant them access to house their guards in our lands so they can raid easily into the plains of the nomad's?".
After a few moments of silence, lord Walashàele slightly shakes his head, and quietly says "No" followed by "No matter how much he and the others of his kind want to pay" the elven lord, who now rules the lands directly to his west, which was once ruled by his neighbour and bitter rival, lord Haldéilv, adds in a slightly dry tone of voice "Though i won't be as abrupt as Jalin suggested".
The younger of the two elven nobles softly chuckles, then as lord Walashàele starts making his way to the door of the reception room, his second in command quietly asks him "Any reason why?".
The head of house Walashàele stops for a moment, and he looks at his cousin Galacithàné, and says to him "Because the prick asked Haldéilv first that's why".
The two of them enter the reception room, as they do, the ground pixie Palamarc lands upon the left shoulder of lord Walashàele. The tiny winged creature who is attached to the elven lord, the elven lord who is the only one who can see him, starts whispering to lord Walashàele what's been happening in the reception room while the two elven nobles have been making their way here.
In the large room, are a number of the elven lord's personal guards, who are spread out, mostly out of sight behind columns, while those in plain view are up against the walls. Also in the room is lord Walashàele's chamberlain, who is quietly talking with their guest from the city of Falnic in the region of Belinswae.
The justifier and mage Kaellin, who was here in the elven principality of Maladimbáh at the end of summer. Who was a guest of lord Haldéilv, who was staying at the tower of house Haldéilv when it was attacked twice. Once on the day of the battle when lord Walashàele killed his neighbour and rival lord Haldéilv. And once before that, the night two weeks earlier, when the palace like tower of house Haldéilv was also attacked.
The two elven nobles share a brief look, then they make their way to where the human mage is talking with the house chamberlain.
Once they approach and the chamberlain introduces the two of them to the justifier from the coastal city of Falnic. The chamberlain along with Galacithàné Walashàele step back and move away, while lord Walashàele speaks with the mage Kaellin.
The head of house Walashàele is mostly silent as he listens to the proposal from the powerful human spellcaster from Belinswae. Though at one stage, lord Walashàele gets the justifier's attention when he says "So you're telling me that you couldn't come to agreement with Haldéilv, so you've come to me now, as if I'm second best?".
It's from there that the mage Kaellin figures out no matter what he says, or how much he offers. That he isn't going to get what he wants from the elven lord who has a bit of a prickly nature at the best of times.
And though their conversation continues for quite some time into the day, the justifier from the city of Falnic isn't going to get his way, and that a second trip across the nomad's plains in less than two months has been a waste of time.
It's in the afternoon when the meeting ends, not going the way the mage Kaellin was hoping. But as he expected once he started speaking to the head of house Walashàele.
The justifier from the city of Falnic walks from the main building of the Walashàele manse, he's met by a pair of his senior guards who have been waiting outside for him since they arrived here this morning.
They head across the main courtyard of the manse followed at a discreet distance by the house chamberlain and pair a of Walashàele house guards. They maybe following at a discreet distance, but the mage knows the elves can hear what he and his senior guards say.
"Successful?" asks the justifier's guard Barsel, the mage Kaellin slightly shakes his head in the negative, and replies with "Unfortunately no". The justifier who is one of the leaders of the region of Belinswae, is calm and even in his response, as he was when he was putting his proposal to lord Walashàele. Even though internally, the mage is seething in rage at not getting his way.
As they cross the main courtyard of the manse to where the two wyverns and the rest of the justifier's guards are waiting. Yarmeed, the second of the senior guards to accompany the mage Kaellin here to the principality of Maladimbáh, asks "What now for our plans to raid into the plains?".
"For now nothing" says the justifier, who magically is the most powerful of the leaders of Belinswae. Though he isn't the most important or influential. He's near to it though.
"We continue as always in our campaign to wipe out the nomad scum" adds Kaellin the mage, who continues with "We'll make the usual push again in spring when the weather turns to our advantage".
For the raids into the Nomad's Plains taper off now in autumn, and are non existent in winter as they are during the height of summer.
The justifier who is silent for a few moments as he thinks about something as they approach the two wyverns and the rest of the squad from Falnic. Then quietly tells his two senior guards "Which might not be a bad thing considering what's happened recently elsewhere".
The guards Yarmeed and Barsel share a knowing look, as they like a lot of their fellow guards who serve the mage Kaellin know of what's been happening recently in Belinswae, in particular the manoeuvring politically of most of the justifiers in Falnic and elsewhere concerning trade.
They reach the two wyverns, and after the justifier Kaellin turns and briefly talks to the house chamberlain who walks up and wishes them farewell. The mage, his senior guards, and the rest of the squad mount up, and the wyverns are soon in the air, and the party from the city of Falnic are flying south, and west as they begin their journey back to the region of Belinswae.
Watching the wyverns fly away in the afternoon sunshine as they stand upon the roof of the main building of the manse, Galacithàné Walashàele says "I wonder if they'll return and make another offer?".
"Probably" says lord Walashàele who has just turned and told his griffon to hush up as it squawks in displeasure at the departing wyverns "Either him or another justifier no doubt" adds the head of house Walashàele who is now the most important noble in the principality of Maladimbáh after he defeated his rival lord Haldéilv in battle.
"And they'll get the same answer?" asks the elven lord's second in command "They will" says lord Walashàele, who after a brief pause, and a shake of his head, adds "The idiots, they're the same people, and they still try to wipe them out".
Galacithàné Walashàele nods his head in agreement, for as most of elven kind in Maladimbáh, and for that matter elven kind north of the equator on the western side of the continent. Know that the humans of Belinswae, and the nomads of the vast, arid plains south of Maladimbáh, are infact the same people, who went different ways tens of thousands of years ago.
As they watch the wyverns flying away in the distance, Galacithàné Walashàele quietly says "You notice he looked a little distracted by something as they were leaving?" the younger of the two nobleborn cousins then adds "And i don't necessarily think it was your decision".
"I did" quietly says lord Walashàele, who as they watch the wyverns from Belinswae head southwest, continues with "He's definitely got something else on his mind" . . . . . .

Wonderful 118.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

Lord Farque stops and calls ahead in the ork language for Dorc da Orc to do the same. The undead warlord who has just heard something from Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, looks at the elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, and nods his full helmed head for him to continue with what he's saying.
"There's a number of them a bit further down" says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy who continues with "About four in total, both coins and jewels in strongboxes in some of them".
"Our horses are down at the bottom of the tor, in a cavern on the northeast side" interjects Riley Hait the mercenary ranger who has been listening to the conversation between the undead warlord and the elven spy. Next to the mercenary ranger from the principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands, Mira Reinholt the mage nods his hooded head in agreement with the ranger Hait, for he and Dorc da Orc came through the very same cavern when they entered the rocky tor that the palace like tower of lord Haldéilv sits upon.
"There's some other horses down there, they could act as pack horses for those strongboxes" adds the mercenary ranger who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Riley Hait.
"Good plan, we'll head there and get them before we go down to the cavern below" says lord Farque, who looks further along the hallway they're in about halfway up the tower, and sees Dorc da Orc come back around the corner, and say "Now fucken what?".
"Dalin go forward with Dorc and lead the way down to these storage rooms" says the heavily armoured deathlord, the spy Tanith nods and moves forward to join the large ork, and they get underway again.
A little bit later as they continue on their way down through the tower that's the seat of power of the head of house Haldéilv. Lord Farque who is walking infront of the mage Reinholt and the ranger Hait, glances back at them, and tells them "Seems she isn't the only one in her family to come to an end of their life today".
"Oh?" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, while Mira Reinholt the mage says "Her father?". Looking ahead again, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, whose people also know him by the name of Draugadrottin, nods his full helmed head, and says "Yep" followed by "The neighbour, that Walashàele just killed him".
"Going to be a change here in the south of Maladimbáh now for sure" quietly says the mage Reinholt, who in his time here in the tower of lord Haldéilv as a prisoner of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user, got to learn much of the current political situation of the principality, that has no ruling noble family upon the throne.
"Wonder if he'll make a grab for the throne in the capital?" muses the once powerful mage, who after a slight pause as they start heading down a stairwell, continues with "Or just consolidate things in the south, and take over the Haldéilv lands".
The undead warlord is silent on the matter, while the mercenary ranger next to the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, shrugs his shoulders, as he has no idea.
What Riley Hait does know, and for that matter the rest of the group. Is that the deathlord of Farque wants to steal the strongboxes in some of the storage rooms below, then leave the tor and the tower of house Haldéilv upon it, then leave the principality of Maladimbáh after that.
They're soon down in the levels in the tor itself, they've seen very few people as they've made their way down the tower and into the tor. And those they have seen, have fled at the sight of Dorc da Orc who is out infront with Dalinvardél Tanith.
They make their way to the storage rooms, inside of which are the unconscious elven house guards that the spy Tanith knocked out earlier in the day. They remain unconscious as the group take six of the strongboxes, with lord Farque and Dorc da Orc carrying two of them each, and the rest of the group, taking turns in pairs to carry the other two.
They continue on their way down through the tor, and eventually end up on the steps that first the group consisting of Riley Hait, Dalinvardél Tanith, Shur Kee the monk, Tamric Drubine, Lisell Maera and sir Percavelle Lé Dic, then after them, Dorc da Orc and Mira Reinholt initially went up after entering the tor.
A little while later and they're down in the cavern that the stream runs through, they cross the stone bridge in the middle of the cavern. Dorkindle who sticks to the very center of the low stone bridge, hisses in anger at the stream below him as he crosses.
They make their way over to the stalls, and making sure Dorc da Orc keeps well back from the horses, lord Farque and the others strap a strongbox each to the group's pack horses. And to four other mounts that they take. The mage Reinholt swipes a mount for himself, while the undead warlord and the ork warleader are on foot as the group lead the horses out of the opening at the base of the tor.
As Dorkindle mutters in anger when they come out into the afternoon sunshine, the ranger Hait asks the heavily armoured deathlord "Which way?". "That small town on the otherside of the tor" replies Draugadrottin, who continues with "We're going to need supplies".
"And then?" asks the mercenary ranger who was raised and trained in the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands "South through the Nomad's Plains" says the lord of the death realm "That's not the easiest place to cross on horseback" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who then dryly adds "Trust me, we've done it already".
"Don't worry about it" says Mira Reinholt who has figured out what the lord and ruler of the lands is going to do as they travel south through the Nomad's Plains "We've found a short cut" adds the Vexilian mage in exile who grins then says "It'll take less than half the time you lot spent getting here from Falnic".
"Oh?" says the ranger Hait, who then asks the highly skilled swordmaster "How?". "Magic" is what the mage Reinholt tells him, and with sir Percavelle Lé Dic grumbling about that as he sits upon his horse at the back of the group next to Shur Kee the monk, they set off and head for the small town at the base of the tor on it's south side.
As they travel around the base of the tor, with the group on horseback, while lord Farque and Dorc da Orc who are out infront on foot. The lord and ruler of the lands Farque senses the remaining two members of the group from south of the equator heading their way.
And as Dorkindle goes into detail plans in the ork language about how he's going to destroy the sun one day for being such a nasty cunt to him. Plans that the undead warlord is ignoring as the large ork mutters away in his native language. Helbe the elven thief along with Narladene the ground pixie turn up.
The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel in the Southlands appears walking beside the heavily armoured deathlord. The elven masterthief ignores Dorc da Orc's mutterings about the sun too. Which is easy for him to do, since he doesn't understand a word of the ork language.
"Her father's dead" is the first thing lord Farque says in the royal elven language to the elven princeling on his left as they pass through some shade from the tor, much to the relief of Dorc da Orc who is sweating profusely in the afternoon heat on the late summer's day.
"He is?" says Helbe the elven thief in the same language, the young elven noble continues with "That lord Walashàele do it, did he?". "He did" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who then asks the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel "Plenty there?".
"There is" says Helbenthril Raendril who has just been in the small town they're heading too, then after glancing back at the others who are riding slowly about fifty yards further back, adds "Plenty of supplies for the crossing". "Good" murmurs the lord of the death realm, who then adds "The sooner we get going the better".
Noticing the extra pack horses, and what they're carrying, the elven magic user from south of the equator says "I see you've picked up some cargo" the undead warlord nods his full helmed head and tells the elven prince what it is.
And they call me a thief, the young elven noble dryly thinks to himself with a slight shake of his hooded head after lord Farque explains to him what's in the strongboxes. The elven master assassin then asks "What are you going to do with all that?". Shrugging his broad, heavily armoured shoulders, the deathlord of Farque says "Who knows" he follows that up with "It will no doubt come in handy". With that, the elven masterthief definitely agrees.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril then informs the Draugadrottin what else he's found out, most of which the heavily armoured deathlord knows, as he has already sensed it.
The justifier from the city of Falnic, the mage Kaellin has already left with his remaining two guards. And are traveling by horseback southwards, intending to return to Belinswae by crossing the Nomad's Plains.
While the younger cousin of lord Walashàele, Galacithàné Walashàele. Has also taken off from the tower of house Haldéilv, with the remaining house guards with him. After he attacked some of the last house guards in the service of lord Haldéilv who stayed behind in the tower of house Haldéilv.
The Walashàele cousin has made his way back to the river that's the border between the lands of house Haldéilv and Walashàele, by teleporting a couple of times with those Walashàele house guards with him.
As Dorc da Orc growls "Shitty fuck" as they walk out of the shade and into the sunlight again, and they can now see the small town in the distance they're making their way towards. Helbe the elven thief quietly says to lord Farque "Seems kind of odd knowing that there won't be the constant interference we've had over the last three years anymore".
"I'm sure something else will interfere with our plans" dryly says the undead being who is also known as Des'tier to an older generation of elves in the Southlands who might know he is. "It's kind of a given concerning us lot" dryly adds the heavily armoured deathlord, which causes the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel in the Southlands to laugh.
"What's so fucken funny?" asks Dorc da Orc who wipes his brow with the back of his right forearm "You" says lord Farque in the common language to the large ork "You fat fucking shit" adds the heavily armoured deathlord,
The ork warleader scowls, then after wiping his sweaty brow again, the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks mutters "Just asking a fucken question" Dorkindle then adds "And me is not fucken fat" he pauses for a moment before he continues with "Dorc is ah healthy, yeah that's the fucken word, me is healthy big".
Helbe the elven thief chuckles at that, which causes the large ork to scowl at him, the scowl gets deeper, when the warleader of ork race, hears Narladene the ground pixie, who he can't see, but does smell on the right shoulder of the elven magic user, giggling at him as well.
"Fuck me, what a bunch of cuntheads" mutters Dorkindle in the ork language, who looks sharply at lord Farque, then breathes a sigh of relief, as the lord and ruler of the lands Farque is ignoring him once more. The ork weaponsmith with the scowl still upon his face, looks over at the young elven noble, who has stopped "What you fucken doing cunt?" asks the large ork.
Gesturing back at the others who are approaching, Helbenthril Raendril says "I'll be riding with the others" the elven master assassin then adds "It's a wonderful afternoon to be out in the sunshine for a ride".
"You fucken sick cunt" says Dorc da Orc who shakes his head in disgust, as the thought of being out in the sunshine, is just as bad as actually being out in it and enduring it like he is now.
Seeing the look of disgust on the broad, green, brutish looking face of the large ork who is sweating profusely, the elven princeling laughs at him and says "Truly wonderful".

Authors Note - Here ends "Wonderful". The main storyline of The Ye Olde Fantasae Tymes will return in "You Want A War? You've Got One!".

Wonderful 117.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

"What did you see?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage "Some fucken pretty lights and shit" replies Dorc da Orc as the two of them discuss the moment they went through the rift spell without entering it, or exiting it.
"Dorc likes pretty lights" says the large ork with a wide grin upon his broad, green, brutish looking face, which causes the once powerful mage to roll his eyes.
"I mean, did everything look completely different?" asks the mage Reinholt as the two of them walk through the main room of the suite, where the air is starting to clear, as the dust settles down.
The ork warleader shrugs his massive shoulders as they stop near the hole in the floor, and he says "Nah" followed by "Just the pretty lights was all".
The Vexilian mage in exile looks sharply at Dorkindle, and wonders if the big, burly orks unique brain. Unique as in mentally deficient, protected him from the mind altering experience the once powerful mage endured, when they went straight through the rift spell.
"You think too much mage" says lord Farque as he walks by the two of them "What's that supposed to me?" asks the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster "It means" says the undead warlord, who stops and looks back at Mira Reinholt, and tells him in the elven language "You thought far too fucking much going through that rift" he then adds "It affected you more than it should of".
"Cause i know what happens when someone just goes through a rift like that" says the exiled Vexilian mage in the same language. Dorkindle looks in disgust at the two of them as they're talking in elven, he wanders away as the two of them continue their conversation.
"Which you also knew wasn't going to happen, since i took you through" says the heavily armoured deathlord, who then adds "Like i said, you thought too much, and it was that, which influenced what you experienced". "Easy for you to say" mutters the mage Reinholt, who then silently adds, you can't fucking die!
"The prospect of being torn apart into untold pieces is pretty hard to block out" dryly says the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation in the entire Southlands, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque rolls his eyes, and says in as equally dry tone "This coming from the mage who accidentally cast a rift/void and went into it to who knows where".
Mira Reinholt winces at the memory of that, then he says "That was a little different". "You mean worse" dryly says Draugadrottin as he's also referred to by the people of his lands "They don't compare" says the exiled Vexilian mage who continues with "I entered one normally, while the other you hauled me straight through".
"It's basically the same" says lord Farque in a laconic tone "Hardly" sourly says the highly skilled swordmaster, the lord of the death realm slightly shakes his full helmed head, then says "Into a rift or a void, or a gateway or portal" followed by "Or straight through the spell itself, it's the same thing, distance and time, nothing else".
The mage Reinholt blinks as he stands there looking at the large figure in the dark blue, black heavy plate armour "Er?" murmurs the once powerful mage.
After rolling his eyes, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque mutters "By the fucking gods" something he hardly ever curses, the gods. "All those things, they're time and distance" says the undead warlord who continues with "What takes a lot of time?". "Traveling a long distance" says Draugadrottin answering his own question.
He asks another one, when he says "And what does traveling long distances do?" again the deathlord of Farque answers himself with "It takes up time".
"Rifts, voids, portals, gateways they're all a manipulation of time and distance, and of distance and time" says the undead being who is also known as Des'tier to an older generation of elves in the Southlands who might know who he is, he then adds "Hell, I'm not even a spellcaster and i know that".
The lord of the death realm shakes his full helmed head and walks away, leaving the mage Reinholt standing there, contemplating what he's just heard. The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands has an epiphany as he stands there, concerning distance and time.
Something that when it finally comes to fruition sometime in the future, will have a lasting effect for centuries to come, not just on the Southlands, or here north of the equator. But for all the world of Volunell, when Mira Reinholt attempts something.
As lord Farque yells at Dorc da Orc to stop shitting on one of the dead elven mercenaries here in the main room of the suite. The highly skilled swordmaster from south of the equator, who was held prisoner in these very rooms just two weeks ago.
Looks towards the next room back, and through the open doorway he sees his former guards, Harrick and Linden lying dead on the floor in that room. The once powerful mage who can't quite see the body of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user from this angle, shakes his head, then puts the hood of his cloak onto his head, and follows lord Farque who is making his way out of the large suite.
After exiting the suite, the undead warlord calls out "Oi you lot, get out here!" as he looks to the end of the long hallway, when it meets a corridor along the south facing side of the tower.
Popping his head around the corner after hearing the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger nods to him, then he looks back at the others behind him, and he says "Come along you lot" the human ranger who was raised and trained in the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands adds "Seems things are over".
"Apart from the fact we have to get out of here" dryly says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy as he follows the ranger Hait around the corner into the hallway, while the rest of the group from south of the equator follow him.
Making his way over the rubble in the hallway, the mercenary ranger who in actual fact is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, says "I gather she's come to an unfortunate end?".
"Unfortunate, fortunate, take your pick" replies the heavily armoured deathlord as he stands just outside where the doorway to the large suite once was "She's come to a fucking end alright" adds the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"About time" murmurs Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who is glad that Kaldeàlil Haldéilv is finally dead, as she has proven to be more than an annoyance over the last three years.
Just then the mage Reinholt walks out of the large suite where he once held a prisoner just two weeks ago. The others out in the hallway greet him, as they haven't seen him in months, with the exception of the ranger Hait and the spy Tanith who briefly saw him earlier when the Vexilian mage in exile entered the suite with lord Farque and Dorc da Orc.
"It's good to see you friend Mira" says Shur Kee the monk "And you as well Shur Kee" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster. Seeing that the others are all wanting to talk to the once powerful mage, the undead warlord says to them "Plenty of time to catch up later" the lord of the death realm then adds "For now, let's get out of here".
Draugadrottin looks back into the suite, and says in the ork language "Get the fuck out here cunt" followed by "We're fucking going". A moment later a grinning Dorc da Orc comes into view. And the large ork who has been spraying urine throughout the large suite, as well shitting throughout it, but mostly on the dead elven mercenaries hired by Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, hurries to where the main doors once were, and makes his way out into the long hallway.
"Alright" mutters Dorc da Orc who holds out a large meaty hand to stop Shur Kee the monk from hugging him, as both Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera have done "Enough of that shit" adds the large ork.
Who then sourly smiles as he looks down and sees that both Tam and Lis have a hand on him, glad that he's actually there. Since they haven't seen him in months.
'They've missed you' Dorkindle thinks to himself, he silently adds in a dry tone 'Fucking beats me why'. "Shut up whore tits" mutters the ork warleader in his own language as he glares at the skull of his mother tied to his belt.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks gently pushes the two youngsters away, saying in the common language "Alright humanlings, Dorc got shit to do" he then turns to face someone else, and goes to take an axe from his weapon harness as he does so.
Stepping in between Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who is about to draw his sword, lord Farque points and says in the ork language "That fucking way" followed by "Now". The large ork lets go of the axe handle he's taken hold of, and growls, though when the undead warlord glances at him, and the warleader of the ork race sees a flash of glowing blue light come from his eyes, he does what he's told.
As Dorkindle walks away grumbling to himself in the ork language, lord Farque says to the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic "Take the back of the line" the heavily armoured deathlord adds "Rear guard now".
"Why i never" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who instead of saying what he'swanting to say, instead says "Has it suddenly got cold all of a sudden" as the lord and ruler of the lands Farque stares at him. Then the heavily armoured knight lets go of the hilt of his sword, and moves back behind the others, though only after glaring at the departing Dorc da Orc.
Gesturing to the way the large ork is heading down the long hallway, the lord of the death realm says "That way" he follows that up with "We're going". They set off after the ork warleader, with Draugadrottin infront, while sir Percavelle Lé Dic is at the back of the group.
As they make their way over the last of the rubble, and head after the large ork, the elven spy Dalinvardél Tanith asks "Where's the prince?". "He's gone to check up on something" replies Mira Reinholt who is walking next to the spy Tanith, who nods his hooded head, then as they approach the steps at the end of the long hallway, which Dorc has gone down, Dalinvardél Tanith quietly says to the once powerful mage "I gather he did it".
"He did" is the quiet reply of the mage Reinholt as they follow Riley Hait and lord Farque who are infront of them, down the steps "And rather easily too" quietly adds the once powerful mage.
"Three years, all for revenge" murmurs the elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, the spy Tanith quietly says "And look what it got her" and as they head down the tower of lord Haldéilv, he adds "It got her dead" . . . . . .

Wonderful 116.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user senses through to the otherside of the door, into the main room of the large suite. She glances at both Harrick and Linden, the mercenary guards from the region of Belinswae.
"Mira" mouths Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user, Harrick the mercenary guard nods, then he steps closer to the attractive elven maid and whispers to her "The other one?" followed by "The elven noble you're after". The illegitimate daughter of lord Haldéilv shakes her head no, causing the older of the two mercenary guards to grimace.
Truth be told, the attractive elven maid feels the exact same way, and not just because she's bruised all over after getting caught up in that last explosion. But because she's seeing three years of hard work coming to naught.
With her quarry, prince Helbenthril Raendril not showing up, which she was expecting after leading him here to her father's tower, upon the rocky tor.
The elven magic user looks at Linden, who has moved to the closed door, and has an ear to it. The younger of the two humans from the south of Belinswae, lifts a hand, then he quickly moves back to where the other two are standing.
"Think someone is approaching" whispers Linden the mercenary guard, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv listens carefully, then she quickly casts a spell to increase the sensitivity of her hearing.
The attractive elven maid, the death of whose lover, an elven noble from Alínlae in the Southlands, Xanderlith Karlavilt, set off her current course of action.
Hears a distinctive set of footsteps, metallic sounding, approaching the locked door, from the otherside in the large suite. The elven magic user who is shielded thanks to an amulet she wears on fine silver neck chain. Is pretty certain as to who that is.
She grimaces at the prospect of that individual entering the room she's in at the moment. For she knows she hasn't stopped him already, then there's very little chance she can stop him at all.
Where's a stinking cleric when you need one, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv sourly thinks to herself, then the illegitimate daughter of the local lord, whose seat of power, is the palace like tower she's in at the moment.
Slightly frowns as she continues to listen to what's approaching on the otherside of the now locked door, thanks to Linden, who slammed it shut a little earlier, who has now moved forward again, and locked it with the key, and is putting the inner bar up behind it.
The attractive elven magic user, who until recently, has spent much of the last eighty years away from her homeland of Maladimbáh. Isn't too sure, but she thinks she hears another footfall beside the metallic sounding one.
Is that, is all Kaldeàlil Haldéilv thinks to herself, before she clearly hears a loud, growling voice come from within the main room of the large suite. The illegitimate daughter of one of the more prominent local lords in the principality of Maladimbáh, instantly. Unfortunately so, recognises the owner of that particular, and distinctive sounding voice.
"Got you cunt" cackles Dorc da Orc as an injured elven mercenary walks through the dusty air, and passes infront of the large ork, and Mira Reinholt the mage. Well he would of passed infront of them if Dorkindle hadn't grabbed him.
Then with one swing of his warhammer, the ork weaponsmith breaks the right leg of the elven mercenary in the guise of a Haldéilv house guard.
While the once powerful mage rolls his eyes, the ork warleader picks up the now screaming elven mercenary, and he throws him up onto his right shoulder.
"Why exactly are you going to lug him around like that for?" quietly whispers Mira Reinholt the mage to the large ork who is standing beside him.
"Bait" is the one word reply of Dorc da Orc, who thinks about elaborating on what he's going to do. But it's too involved, and he can't be bothered trying to explain what it is. Especially considering they'll soon be where the warleader of the ork race is heading too.
"Watch it cunt" says Dorkindle to the mage Reinholt, the big, burly ork, has put a large arm out, to block the path of the Vexilian mage in exile. The ork weaponsmith nods down and to the left of them, and the once powerful mage looks that way, and through the dust in the air, he can make out the large hole in the floor, just a few yards away to their left.
Dorc da Orc grunts, and nods ahead through the dust and mote filled air, that's slowly dissipating as it blows out through the balcony doors, the busted windows, and a fair chunk of the wall on the south side of the suite, that's been blasted out onto the long balcony.
Through the dust ahead, the spellcaster from the Southlands, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, spots a couple of people. The exiled Vexilian mage instantly recognises the two individuals ahead that the ork warleader is leading him towards.
Looking back, Helbe the elven thief who has dropped his blur spell, spots a couple of figures walking out of the dust filled air behind him and lord Farque.
The young elven noble watches as Dorc da Orc, and Mira Reinholt, who isn't holding his power within himself at the moment, walk towards him and the undead warlord.
Once they join the elven princeling, and the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, the once powerful mage just lifts a questioning eyebrow.
The elven masterthief nods his hooded head towards the locked door ahead, then informs the mage Reinholt by way of mindspeech that Kaldeàlil Haldéilv is in the room ahead.
As the highly skilled swordmaster nods at that, Dorc da Orc shrugs the now unconscious elven mercenary off his shoulder, and says to the deathlord of Farque in the ork language "What you want this fucken tree humper for?".
The undead warlord who called out earlier in the ork language for Dorkindle to bring along any of the elven mercenaries still alive, and not to kill them. And also told the large ork to tell Mira Reinholt to stop holding his power within himself, picks up the unconscious elven mercenary in the guise of a Haldéilv house guard.
"Once we go through, attack any cunt in there" quietly says lord Farque in the ork language, who then adds by way of warning to the ork weaponsmith "Keep well away from her". The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks sourly grunts at that last bit. For he wants to kill Kaldeàlil Haldéilv as much as anyone else, after all she put him in the worst prison he's ever been in his whole life. A boat, in the middle of the ocean.
"Do it" orders the undead being who to an older generation of elven kind in the Southlands, is also known by the name of Des'tier. "Me will" mutters the warleader of the ork race.
Mira Reinholt looks at the unconscious elven mercenary the lord of the death realm is holding by the leg, the unbroken one. Then the once powerful mage with a raised eyebrow looks at the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel in the Southlands.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril via his mindspeech spell tells the Vexilian mage in exile what's going to happen and why. The spellcaster who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, nods his hooded head to that, then he along with Dorc da Orc look at lord Farque expectantly.
The lord of the death realm glances at Helbe the elven thief, and nods his full helmed head. The young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel blurs himself and disappears from the sight of the ork weaponsmith and the highly skilled swordmaster.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then quickly glances at Mira Reinholt and nods once more, the exiled Vexilian mage puts up a barrier spell infront of himself, the undead warlord and the ork warleader.
Then the heavily armoured deathlord throws the unconscious elven mercenary, who easily passes through the barrier spell erected by the mage Reinholt because he's thrown so forcefully. The unconscious elven mercenary in the guise of a Haldéilv house guard smashes into the locked door.
Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user, who figures that what's happened already when her set spells have been triggered, guesses that's going to happen again. So she whispers to the two mercenaries from the coast of Belinswae "Get ready".
The two mercenaries who are crouched to either side of the attractive elven maid, nod as all three of them look at locked door to the main room of the suite.
A moment later and there's a loud thump on the locked door, immediately followed by an explosion on the otherside of the doorway. Then as Kaldeàlil Haldéilv gets ready to cast a couple more spells, the door, the bar behind it as well, comes flying into the room in one piece, and narrowly passes over their heads, before smashing into the wall further behind them.
The attractive elven maid casts at the figure walking in through the now clear doorway, she grimaces as she knows the spell will fail. The beam of green energy strikes the large individual in the dark blue, black heavy plate armour square in the chest, who continues walking into the room.
He's followed by two others, both former prisoners of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, one of whom was held here in these very rooms just two weeks ago.
While the large heavily armoured undead being heads straight for the illegitimate daughter of lord Haldéilv. The mercenary guards Harrick and Linden rush the other two.
Mira Reinholt, who never had anything against his former guards, steps behind Dorc da Orc and faintly winces, as the large ork swings his warhammer. The once powerful mage who has drawn the black bladed sword that's been hardened by dragon fire, doesn't intend to use it unless necessary.
Lord Farque steps sideways to get in the eyeline of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv who is going to cast at the ork warleader and the mage Reinholt since she knows she can't do anything against him.
Then sensing what's she about to cast, lord Farque says in the elven language to the illegitimate daughter of the head of house Haldéilv "Going somewhere?" followed by "And just when your honoured guest arrives".
Kaldeàlil Haldéilv who is backing up so she can look out the window away to her right so she can teleport away, spins around after hearing what the undead being just said to her.
She finds standing behind her is him. Her quarry, her target for the last three years, prince Helbenthril Raendril, who killed her lover, Xanderlith Karlavilt, an elven noble from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands.
And as she hears one of the mercenaries, Linden by the sounds of it, scream in pain, and the large ork named Dorc roar. Kaldeàlil Haldéilv gasps in surprise as something passes through her wards, and penetrates her light armour, and goes in between her ribs, and into her chest.
"What did you think was going to happen?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief, who pulls out the right spike puncher from the chest of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, who drops to the floor, gasping in pain.
And as Dorc da Orc bites the head of the second mercenary guard, the first he smashed in the chest with his warhammer. The elven princeling looks down at the attractive elven maid who has been trying to kill him for the last three years, and tells her "It was only ever going to end this way for you".
The young elven noble is joined first by lord Farque, then Mira Reinholt, and finally Dorc da Orc, who biffs away the dead mercenary guard Harrick whose head he bit into.
The four of them, along with Narladene the ground pixie upon the right shoulder of the young elven noble, look down at Kaldeàlil Haldéilv and watch her die.
Once she breathes her last breath, the mage Reinholt says "That was fairly easy all things considered". "It was always going to be" says lord Farque, who after a slight pause adds "She just didn't realise it".
Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head in agreement, then after the undead warlord gestures at something, the young elven noble bends down at takes the silver chain with the amulet from around the neck of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv.
Once he does, lord Farque says to others "Let's go" . . . . . .

Wonderful 115.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

Glancing around the corner into the long hallway, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger and Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy see lord Farque, Dorc da Orc and Mira Reinholt the mage through the dust, enter the large suite that the undead warlord has just kicked the doors open to.
"Get ready just incase she runs out" quietly says Riley Hait the mercenary ranger, the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands nods his hooded head in agreement, and he's just about to respond to the mercenary ranger, but he doesn't get the chance to.
An explosion comes from the large suite, and the ranger Hait and the spy Tanith duck back around the corner as debris and flames spew forth from the open double doors, just down the long hallway, on the opposite side.
The doors that are half off their hinges, are blasted out into the hallway, as is the door frame, and much of the wall that's around it. They join the debris and dust in the air that's already in the hallway.
Riley Hait and Dalinvardél Tanith share a look, then the two of them move further back into the corridor, and join the rest of the group from the Southlands who are waiting back behind the two of them.
Out off the balcony of the large suite, three quarters of the way up the south facing side of the palace like tower of house Haldéilv. The blurred and shielded Helbe the elven thief who is floating in mid air, looking through the open balcony doors. Blinks in surprise when he sees the rift that Kaldeàlil Haldéilv hide just inside the main doors of the suite, warp and twist before it returns to normal.
Then suddenly lord Farque, along with Dorc da Orc and Mira Reinholt the mage walk from it. The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel in the Southlands blinks in surprise again as he realises what's just happened.
That the trio from south of the equator who have just entered the large suite, have gone through the rift without them entering it, or exiting the otherside, wherever the otherside is located.
The elven magic user who is the grandson of the ruling prince of his homeland, knows that both the once powerful mage and the ork warleader would be dead if it wasn't for the deathlord of Farque who had a hold of them. For going through a rift spell like that results in death for someone unfortunate to experience it.
The elven princeling then sees the lord of the death realm throw the mage Reinholt away to his right, and out of view of the young elven noble floating off to the side of the long balcony to the suite where the Vexilian mage in exile was held as a prisoner just over two weeks ago.
Dorc da Orc follows after the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque throws him in the same direction.
Helbenthril Raendril who senses Mira Reinholt slamming up a barrier spell around himself, then sees lord Farque move and take a step forward, an instant later an explosion rocks the large suite the trio from the Southlands have just entered.
A couple of moments later, and the elven master assassin sees one of the elven mercenaries in the guise of a house guard in the service of house Haldéilv. Come flying out of a window, sending the shutters spinning off their hinges. And hitting the the balcony with a thud. Even from where he's floating, the young elven noble hears the legs of the disguised elven mercenary snap when he hits the balcony.
An instant later a ten foot wide part of the balcony directly beneath the prone elven mercenary is blasted up into the midday sky, as is he. The stonework shatters apart as it heads skywards, ripping apart the disguised elf as he goes airborne.
"That's the first spell" quietly says Narladene the ground pixie as she stands upon the right shoulder of the elf prince she is attached to. The elven masterthief nods his hooded head in agreement and waits for the next trap set on the balcony to be triggered.
He doesn't have to wait long, for out of the next window along, this one that's glass, which has been shattered apart by the explosion, comes flying another elven mercenary who works for Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, and is disguised as one of her father's house guards.
And when this house guard hits the balcony near some of the gardens that's on it, a cone of blue fire shoots up around her as she lies there groaning in pain.
Within that cone of blue fire, regular looking flames gout up from the balcony, burning her away fairly instantaneously.
Wait, Helbe the elven thief thinks to himself as he floats there in mid air off the south side of the tower that's the seat of power of lord Haldéilv. The young elven noble from south of the equator knows that lord Farque is setting off the traps in the large suite, where another explosion, this one smaller, sounding more confined can be heard. As well as those spells that have been hidden on the long balcony, which is stopping the elven masterthief from entering the suite.
Inside the large suite, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv did not expect to see the trio enter the through the rift she had hidden just inside the main doors of the suite.
Of course she briefly sensed her former prisoner Mira Reinholt the mage out in the hallway beyond. She didn't expect him to come straight through the rift, the otherside of which is in a deep hole filled with fire in the middle of the Nomad's Plains.
Nor did she expect to see another of her former prisoners, the large ork named Dorc. Who along with the mage from south of the equator, should of been killed by going straight through her rift spell.
She knows they weren't killed because of the other person with them, the undead being who travels with them and her quarry, who she thought would be the one to enter the large suite.
All signs would have prince Helbenthril Raendril entering the suite here in her father's tower. She's made sure that he's been led here, and has set numerous traps for him in and around the large suite. But he's no where to be seen, not that the attractive elven maid was actually expecting to see him, though she was expecting him to be here.
Damn you thieving prince! Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user thinks to herself in anger as one of her set spells she has in the large suite goes off, creating an explosion. The attractive elven maid who is the illegitimate daughter of the local lord, lord Haldéilv, then silently adds as she peers through the dust filled air just up ahead, where are you, you bastard elf!
Getting up off the floor, Mira Reinholt the mage who hears another explosion, this one smaller and sounding confined, says "Keep well back from Farque".
Even though he groans as he slightly struggles to his feet, Dorc da Orc says "Me knows that Killer" the once powerful mage nods his hooded head to that as he looks through the dust filled air that's in much of this part of the large suite, where just two weeks ago, he was being held a prisoner by his captor, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv.
The spellcaster from south of the equator, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, stops holding his power within himself once more, and creates a mageglobe.
As he does, next to him, the large ork takes a throwing axe from his weapon harness, then from the back of it, Dorkindle takes a heavy warhammer to hand "Fucking get some" chuckles the ork weaponsmith.
The mage Reinholt who agrees with the sentiment of what the ork warleader just said, throws the mageglobe into the dust filled air, and as it shoots away from him, Mira Reinholt nods his hooded head at Dorc da Orc to follow the departing mageglobe, and he quietly says "Let's go".
The two of them, the Vexilian mage in exile, and the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, walk forward into the dust filled air.
Lord Farque grabs an elven mercenary disguised as a Haldéilv house guard, who rushes at him through the dust of destroyed stone and masonry floating in the air.
The undead warlord has grabbed the sword wielding arm of the mercenary who was hired in the lands of house Walashàele by Kaldeàlil Haldéilv. The heavily armoured deathlord pitches the elf mercenary sideways a good twenty five feet to his left out another shattered window.
The elven mercenary lands out on the balcony, and as he tries to get up, there's a loud bang from where he is. There he explodes outwards from the stomach. His limbs going flying in all directions. And when what's left of his torso drops to the balcony, his head pops off and rolls away.
Lord Farque glances back behind him through the dust filled air, then a moment later he sticks his right arm out, and grabs out of mid air, the mageglobe created by Mira Reinholt which stops right beside the lord of the death realm.
Draugadrottin as he's also known by the people of his lands, looks forward again and senses as he does so. Then with the living piece of magic held tight in his right gauntleted hand, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque leaps forward in a single bound.
"Down!" shouts Kaldeàlil Haldéilv to the two human mercenaries from Belinswae, Harrick and Linden who are closest to her when she senses what's rapidly approaching. The attractive elven maid who is the illegitimate daughter of lord Haldéilv hopes to hell, and to the forest gods, that her wards are capable enough to withstand what's about to happen.
Lord Farque lands kneeling out of the dust that's drifting through much of the main room of the suite. As he does so, Des'tier as he's also known by, to an older generation of elves in the Southlands, punches his right fist, that's holding the mageglobe, into the floor.
A loud explosion, the loudest and biggest so far, rocks the large suite that Helbe the elven thief is looking into. The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel in the Southlands sees a fair portion of the south facing wall, towards the center of the suite, get blasted out onto the long balcony.
Amongst the debris, the elven princeling sees two elven mercenaries in the guise of Haldéilv house guards, get blown sideways out onto the balcony.
They're both alive, and one who is bloody, and torn up, tries to stand up. As she does, a column of green light shoots up from beneath her, and she briefly stands there transfixed. Then all of sudden, her flesh starts to quickly melt, and in just a few moments, she's a bloody, pulpy, puddle of flesh on a patch of the balcony.
The other hired mercenary blasted out onto the balcony, miraculously lands on both feet. And though he's bleeding profusely from a wound across his forehead, he seems relatively fine. Until he takes a step forward.
Suddenly three thin lines of green coloured energy shoot up from beneath the elven mercenary hired by Kaldeàlil Haldéilv in lord Walashàele's lands. He's split perfectly in three, length wise, killing him instantly.
The three sections of his body hit the balcony, without any blood coming from his body apart from where the head wound was. The rest has been burnt clean where the lines of energy cut through him.
Inside the large suite, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv who saw what happened a bit further infront of her where the dust thins out, saw the large figure leap out of the dust, and land not that far away, and punch the floor.
The attractive elven maid winced as the explosion knocked her off her feet, and sent her tumbling backwards across the floor. As was her two human mercenaries from Belinswae, Harrick and Linden.
All three of them tumble and roll backwards, until finally coming to a stop through the open door to the next room in the large suite.
"Fuck" groans Harrick the mercenary guard who is battered and bruised, Linden groans in agreement as he's in similar shape. While Kaldeàlil Haldéilv whole heartedly agrees with both of them, as she's bruised as well.
The elven magic user who is the illegitimate daughter of the head of house Haldéilv. Increases the strength of the wards she has around herself and the two mercenaries from the south of the region of Belinswae. Wards that were severely damaged in that explosion.
I'm not done yet! Kaldeàlil Haldéilv thinks to herself in defiance as she slowly gets to her feet, as the two human mercenaries are doing.
Lord Farque is down in the room below the large suite, and as he stands there, the heavily armoured deathlord looks up at the ten foot wide hole caused by Mira Reinholt's mageglobe coming to the end of it's life when the undead warlord punched it into the floor of the main room of the large suite.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque leaps up through the ten foot wide hole a dozen feet above him, the lord of the death realm lands on his feet beside it, and after glancing back and calling out something in the ork language, he walks forward through the dust, that's now thicker, and in much more of the main room of the large suite.
Draugadrottin reaches down and picks up an elven mercenary, who is missing the lower half of his right leg, and is peppered with splinters of wood and bits of stone. There's a bloody trail on the rubble strewn floor as he's tired to crawl away.
Lord Farque holds him by his other leg, and moves forward and to the left, then the undead warlord hurls him away at the open balcony doors that has dust wafting out of it.
There's a bright white flash of light that causes Helbe the elven thief to briefly close his eyes. When he opens them, he sees a burnt corpse lying just out from the balcony doors.
"That's the last spell on the balcony" Narladene the ground pixie quickly informs the young elven noble who she's attached to, as she stands upon his right shoulder. The blurred and shielded elven magic user from south of the equator shifts to inside the large suite.
Helbe the elven thief has shifted to stand beside lord Farque, who gestures through the dust, at a door that's just been slammed shut, and who says in the royal elven language "She's in there".
"Well isn't that wonderful" quietly says the elven princeling in the same language, who with a slight smile upon his youthful looking face, adds "Let's go and kill her" . . . . . .

Wonderful 114.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

Wonderful, Mira Reinholt the mage wryly thinks to himself as lord Farque kicks open the doors to the suite where the once powerful mage was held prisoner just two weeks ago.
I'm going to fucking die, the Vexilian mage in exile sourly thinks to himself, as the undead warlord suddenly moves forward at speed, holding the mage Reinholt to his right, and Dorc da Orc to his left.
The spellcaster from south of the equator sees everything as a blur, and holds on tightly to the heavily armoured deathlord who is going through the open doors.
Inside the large suite, a number of the mercenaries, including both Harrick and Linden from the region of Belinswae. Jump in surprise when the main doors of the suite, suddenly slam open with a loud bang.
Behind the large table in the center of the main room of the suite, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user, who didn't jump in surprise like a lot of her hired mercenaries. Thinks she spots three figures through the dust just on the otherside of the open doorway. Two of whom, are far larger than the average sized person, one in particular especially so.
The attractive elven maid doesn't care, for if they come through the open doorway, they'll get the surprise of their lives. Or so she thinks.
For one can't be surprised, and he hasn't a life to be surprised anyway. While another couldn't care less about what will happen to him when he comes through the open doors, he just wants to kill someone, or something, anything really.
While the third of the trio. Like the first, knows what's going to happen too. And he's not surprised at what will happen when they go through the open doorway. Though he is scared shitless at what's more than likely to happen.
Outside the large suite, off the balcony. Helbe the elven thief who is in mid air, has floated to his left, to the west alongside the long balcony,
The blurred and shielded elven magic user from the principality of Laerel in the Southlands, has a better view into the suite through the balcony doors now.
The elven masterthief is just able to see the main doors of the suite at this angle. And they slam open just after he moves into this position. When they do, Narladene the ground pixie who is on his right shoulder, whispers to him in a rather gleeful tone "They're here".
There's a blur of movement through the large open main doors of the suite. As there is, the hidden rift that Kaldeàlil Haldéilv has cast and left open just on the inside of the doorway, suddenly appears in full view.
With a grimace of anticipation upon his face, the mage Reinholt feels the rift more than he sees it. Even though he's holding his power within himself, and not actually sensing. He still feels the magical door, that he's suddenly going through.
Though infact he's not actually going through the rift as one would normally do. That is, entering it through one side, then coming out the otherside, wherever the otherside of the rift may be.
Here he's actually going through the spell itself, without entering it as such, and exiting out the otherside of the rift.
For a fraction of a moment, which he can barely comprehend, the once powerful mage feels like he's going through a rift, as he has done hundreds of times in the past. Though it's something he's never actually cast himself, as he's still yet to learn how to cast a rift spell.
That fraction of a moment, is the only normal thing about what he's experiencing. For as he goes through the rift, everything else he feels, and sees, with the exception of the vice like grip of lord Farque on his left arm, is like nothing he's ever experienced before. And that's saying something. For in his thirty years of life, Mira Reinholt has experienced a lot.
Everything around the once powerful mage changes. The brief glimpse he had into the suite where he was held as a prisoner two weeks ago. Turns into a blur, where every colour of everything runs into one another, that the Vexilian mage in exile can't distinguish one thing from another.
Forget about the shapes of things, they've all melded into one another as well. He can't even tell the floor from the ceiling, let alone the glimpse of the people in the suite he's certain he saw.
The spellcaster from the Southlands, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster. Feels like he's moving incredibly quickly, though even things are a blur, it looks like he's moving slowly.
Then it switches, and he feels like he's moving slowly, while it looks like he's moving quickly. Then it switches once more, then again, again and again, and so on. Then it feels like he's moving slowly and quickly at the same time. As well as everything looks like it's moving quickly and slowly at once.
The mage Reinholt can't get his head around that, so he closes his eyes, which proves to be a mistake.
The once powerful mage gulps, which feels like it takes an eternity, and just an instant of a single moment, at the same time. He gulps as it feels like he's suddenly floating. Not just upwards, but also downwards, sideways, back and forth, all simultaneously. A feeling he's never experienced before.
Not even when he was tortured, and stripped of most of his magical powers when he was offworld. That's if he could remember his time offworld at the other end of the rift/void he miscast a number of years ago. He only remembers a few things from that time when he was off the world of Volunell.
The swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil opens his eyes, which it feels like it takes a life time to do, and at the same time, just an instant. Which is something else the once powerful mage can't comprehend.
Mira Reinholt looks down and to his left, which at the same time, it feels like it takes both forever, and an instant of a moment. He sees his arms and hands as he holds onto the left arm of lord Farque. Well he thinks they're his arms and hands.
For though they're a blur of colours, and though their shape somewhat resemble arms. One is extremely long, as if he's standing fifty yards away from the deathlord of Farque. While the other is barely a foot long, but incredibly bulky. It looks like the width of the arm of a giant.
As he sees and feels what he thinks is his fingers growing and shrinking, and constantly changing through a myriad of colours. He's pretty certain that he feels he's holding on tight to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The once powerful mage shakes his head, and immediately regrets doing so, as all of a sudden he feels like he's spinning around on the spot at an extraordinary speed. Making the blurring motion and the changing colours of everything, even worse than before, that's if that's even possible.
The spellcaster from south of the equator, who happens to also be an expert swordmaster. Keeps his head fairly still as he leans forward a bit and looks past the undead warlord.
The mage Reinholt blinks as he looks at Dorc da Orc, well he assumes it's the ork warleader. Because it's a large distinguishable bulk, that changes every shade of green possible.
The exiled Vexilian mage who felt like it took an eternity to blink, as well as a fraction of a moment. Sees what he thinks is the head of the large ork look at him.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, suddenly sees the head of Dorc da Orc come into focus, and look relatively normal as the ork weaponsmith looks his way.
Normal being a bit of a misnomer, as Dorkindle's head suddenly shrinks to the size of an apple, instantly followed by growing to be larger than wagon.
The mage Reinholt has always thought the large ork has had a fat head, now he's actually seeing it for real. Well as real as this passage through a rift spell is making it.
The ork warleader's head instantly returns to a somewhat normal size, and it hinges open at the mouth as Dorc da Orc grins as he looks at the once powerful mage from the city-state of Vexil.
Mira Reinholt slightly grimaces as the large ork's sharp teeth grow to be longer than swords, then suddenly shrink to be smaller than berries.
The ork weaponsmith's head which has hinged flat open, snaps shut, and the swordmaster from south of the equator, is pretty sure he hears the booming laugh of Dorc da Orc, in what is an otherwise silent experience he's undertaking.
The Vexilian mage in exile looks away from the warleader of the ork race, and instead looks at the only normal, and constant thing as he moves through the rift spell, lord Farque.
The heavily armoured deathlord is completely normal, and appears as he normally does. Nothing about him has changed, while everything else around him is a blur of motion, and a myriad of ever changing shapes and colours.
The full helmed head of the lord of the death realm glances in the mage Reinholt's direction, and the once powerful mage is pretty sure he sees the undead warlord roll his eyes, which is followed by a slight head shake from the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The swordmaster from the Southlands is definitely certain he hears lord Farque murmur "Idiot" as he looks at him. Then the undead being who is also known as Draugadrottin to the people of his lands. Glances the other way at Dorc da Orc, who to the exiled Vexilian mage, resembles a giant green blob at the moment, and dryly murmurs "A bigger fucking idiot".
Things return to being silent to Mira Reinholt as he looks forward, as the clings onto the right arm of the lord of the death realm. The once powerful mage takes what seems a lifetime, and but a moment, to blink. As all of a sudden, the multitude of colours and shapes he's looking at, all seem to be streaking out in long lines, heading in his direction, or away from him, he's not too sure.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster is pretty certain he starts to feel like he's coming out the otherside of a rift. Infact he's definitely certain of it, as the blurring of colours slow and lessen, and things start to take shape.
The mage Reinholt takes a breath, the first he can recall taking since lord Farque kicked open the doors to the suite, and moved through the doorway and entered the hidden rift spell, with the exiled Vexilian swordmaster, and the ork warleader in tow.
Then suddenly the blurring of colours and shapes stop, and everything comes into focus, and once again the mage from the Southlands sees into the suite he was held as a prisoner just two weeks ago.
An moment's instant after that, Mira Reinholt feels like he's just stepped out of a rift, and he knows that he's just gone through an actual rift spell, not enter it or exit it as one normally does. And lived to survive the ordeal which ordinarily would of killed him.
The once powerful mage doesn't get a moment to take that in. For all of a sudden he's flying through the air to his right as lord Farque flings him away.
In mid air, as he stops holding his power within himself, Mira Reinholt looks back and finds Dorc da Orc, with an insane grin upon his brutish looking face, flying through the air too, as the undead warlord has thrown the large ork in this direction as well.
The Vexilian mage in exile who now senses spells being set off, and spells being cast, slams up a barrier spell around himself, just before he hits the floor, which he slides along, then he crashes up against a wall.
Though fine, Mira Reinholt winces, as Dorkindle lands by him with a thump, and smashes into the wall. The once powerful mage hears the large ork groan, then he hears Dorc da Orc chuckle and say "That was fucken awesome".
An explosion then rocks the room they're in . . . . . .

Wonderful 113.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

Helbe the elven thief lifts an eyebrow, and looks at Narladene the ground pixie who is perched upon his right shoulder. "Someone set off one of her traps" whispers Narladene the ground pixie.
The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel who is floating about twenty feet off from the long balcony of the suite where Mira Reinholt the mage was held as a prisoner. Nods his hooded head as he goes back to watching Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user through the balcony doors to the suite.
The attractive elven maid who is the illegitimate daughter of lord Haldéilv, is frowning as she stands behind a large table in the main room of the suite, looking towards the door that opens up to the hallway beyond.
"Ah i see" murmurs Narladene to the elven masterthief, the tiny winged creature continues in a whisper with "Mira isn't too far from the front door of the suite, so little Kai, er lord Farque must be setting off her traps that are intended for you".
The naturally magical creature hops off the right shoulder of the elven princeling, and wings her way to the edge of the balcony, that she briefly touches, before heading back to the right shoulder of the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel. "Yep" whispers Narladene, who then adds "It's Farque alright".
"Ha!" chortles Dorc da Orc, who then adds "It looks like fucken elf soup" the large ork who isn't particularly fond of elf meat, does murmur "Mmmmm elf soup" and licks his lips and starts to drool, as they look at the bloody mess that's the remains of the elven maid that lord Farque threw towards the door of the suite where Mira Reinholt was once held as a prisoner.
The undead warlord continues on his way, and while the mage Reinholt stays where he is, the ork warleader steps by the Vexilian mage, intending to follow the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"Jaŕg" says lord Farque without looking back. Dorc da Orc grunts, and immediately stops and stays put after hearing the word Stay in the ork language from the heavily armoured deathlord.
Draugadrottin as he's also known by the people of his lands far to the south of the equator, stops just short of the bloody gore that's the remains of one of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv's hired mercenaries. The lord of the death realm looks to the end of the hallway, where on the left side as he looks down it, there's a corridor up against the south facing side of the tower, that joins the long hallway.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque makes a shooing motion with his left gauntleted hand after nodding his full helmed head to the two people glancing around the corner where the long hallway and the corridor meet.
Stepping back, and then turning, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger quietly says to the others "Back". Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy nods his hooded head in agreement, and is already moving back down the corridor.
"What is it?" quietly asks Lisell Maera "I don't know" is the quiet reply of the ranger Hait who shrugs his shoulders, then the mercenary ranger who was raised and trained in the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands, says "And i don't want to know" he then silently adds, especially after seeing what that last spell did.
Seeing the ranger Hait and the spy Tanith back away from the corner, then sensing them and the others with them backing away down the corridor they're in. The undead warlord picks up the sword of the disguised elven mercenary from amongst the pool of blood, and her body parts. Well what's left of her body parts, which isn't much.
The heavily armoured deathlord walks forward, as he walks through the bloody gore splattered across this part of the hallway floor, he throws the sword.
The blade slams into the floor, point first, just a few paces short of the large door to the suite that the mage Reinholt was held prisoner in two weeks ago, which Kaldeàlil Haldéilv and a number of her mercenaries are now in.
There's a slightly pause, then lines of energy shoot from the floor, ceiling, and the walls to either side of the large doors of the suite, and opposite it.
There's a multitude of them, and they crisscross themselves, making a grid pattern the width and height of the long hallway about twenty feet to either side of the large doors to the suite where the mage Reinholt was held as a prisoner just two weeks ago.
The lines of energy expand along the hallway, black scorch marks score into the floor, walls and ceiling as it expands down the hallway towards the south facing end, and towards where lord Farque stands.
Though the heavily armoured deathlord doesn't stand there for long, he's already moving down the hallway, and the grid lines of energy at this end approach him.
The undead warlord steps into the lines of energy. They seem to snap off and attempt to wrap around the lord of the death realm, and though they reform from the walls, floor and ceiling. Those that try to wrap around the lord and ruler of the lands Farque disappear.
Draugadrottin continues walking as the lines of energy continue to expand along the hallway in both directions. The deathlord of Farque stops just short of the sword that he threw.
While the grid pattern of energy lines stops a few paces short of where the corridor along the south facing side of the palace like tower meets the long hallway. And in the other direction, it stops a few yards short of where Mira Reinholt stands with Dorc da Orc.
The heavily armoured deathlord holds up a gauntleted hand when he looks back at his fellow travelers from the Southlands, the once powerful mage nods his hooded head in understanding.
"We wait" Mira Reinholt the mage murmurs to Dorkindle, who grunts a disgruntled grunt as he would rather be moving along, until the Vexilian mage in exile quietly tells him "That grid of energy would kill us, no way could a barrier spell of mine protect us from it" the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster silent adds in a dry tone, i could if i still had all my powers.
The ork warleader grunts again, and mutters "Magicky shit" as he stands there with the mage Reinholt as they watch lord Farque and wait for him to give them the signal to continue on.
Inside the large suite where Mira Reinholt was held prisoner, and freed from on the night exactly two weeks ago. Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user mutters "Someone's setting off my traps for him".
The mercenaries Linden and Harrick who are closest to where the attractive elven maid stands behind the large table where they used to sit down and have meals with their former prisoner the mage Reinholt. Glance at one another, then look at the illegitimate daughter of lord Haldéilv, and Harrick the mercenary guard quietly asks her "Everything going alright".
"Maybe" is the murmured reply of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, who wished she knew of a viewing spell she could remotely look through. She knows such a spell exists, she just hasn't found it in any book or tome she's read.
If she did, she would of placed it out in the hallway, so she could watch what's happening out there where she has set a number of traps for her quarry, prince Helbenthril Raendril.
The elven magic user, who sensed her former prisoner Mira Reinholt close by in the long hallway, wonders if he's setting off her traps. She can't sense him anymore, and Kaldeàlil suspects he's either holding his power within himself, or one of her traps has taken care of the mage from south of the equator.
"Nope" dryly murmurs the attractive elven maid as she senses another of her set spells out in the hallway beyond, suddenly being released.
Fire bursts into air and envelopes lord Farque as he takes a step forward. The fire swirls around and becomes a man sized ball that encompasses the undead warlord, who stands amongst it without it affecting him.
The heavily armoured deathlord sticks his raised hand out of the swirling ball of fire that surrounds him, and he make a beckoning gesture towards him.
Dorc da Orc doesn't hesitate, even with the grid lines of energy still just a few yards infront of him and the mage Reinholt, the large ork takes a step forward.
The next moment, the lines of energy disappear, and the once powerful mage from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands sets off with the big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
The two of them from south of the equator don't walk too fast as they continue on their way to where the lord and ruler of the lands Farque stands amongst a swirling maelstrom of fire.
Dorkindle drools excessively as they walk through the bloody remains on the floor of the elven maid lord Farque threw down the hallway. Then the ork weaponsmith and the highly skilled swordmaster stop a dozen paces short of the heavily armoured deathlord in the midst of the swirling cloud of fire, that's putting out tremendous heat, that causes a sour looking Dorc da Orc to sweat profusely, and for Mira Reinholt to break into a sweat too.
Then the temperature returns to normal as the swirling flames around the lord of the death realm disappears. He holds up a gauntleted hand once more, and the once powerful mage and the warleader of the ork race stay where they are. They watch as the lord and ruler of the lands Farque reaches down, lean forward and touch a slab of the floor infront of the large doors where the mage Reinholt was held prisoner a couple of weeks ago.
They don't see the lord of the death realm move next, what they do see is wall opposite the door, and the ceiling directly above the width of the door, explode out and down.
The debris stays in that confined space, smashing into the floor as it sprays in that set area. Though surprisingly it doesn't damage the large doors to the suite.
Lord Farque stands just back from the debris, and the dust in the confined area infront of the large doors. He turns and gives a few hand signals. Dorc da Orc grunts, and nudges Mira Reinholt, who stumble a few steps. Who once he steadies himself, he sourly looks at the large ork, who stands there with his eyes closed, and has his hands covering his ears.
The Vexilian mage in exile quickly does the same thing when he sees lord Farque step onto the debris, and reach out to the handle of one of the doors to the suite.
Bolts of lightning shoot forth from the door and strike the undead warlord after he touches the door handle, there's a peel of thunder that shakes the long hallway as bolts of lightning continue to strike the heavily armoured deathlord.
Who finally lets go of the door handle after he's set off the final lightning bolt spell that was triggered when he touched the door handle. The lord of the death realm steps off the rubble.
Mira Reinholt opens his eyes, and finds lord Farque standing infront of him and Dorkindle. After whacking the large ork on the arm, forcing the ork weaponsmith to drop his hands from his ears, and open his eyes, Draugadrottin whispers to the once powerful mage "I'm going to open the doors".
"There's a rift on the doors, on the otherside" continues lord Farque in a whisper, who then adds "We're going to go through it".
"Where's it go to?" whispers the mage Reinholt with a frown upon his face, and the deathlord of Farque tells him "I said we're going to go through it, not into it".
Fuck! the once powerful mage thinks to himself in alarm as he knows exactly what the undead warlord means. It's something he's heard about, and never experienced, as you tend to end up dead if you attempt it.
The Vexilian mage in exile would rather go through a miscast rift/void again than do what the heavily armoured deathlord is suggesting.
"Fuck me" Mira Reinholt mutters under his breath when Des'tier gestures for him and Dorc da Orc to follow him up onto the rubble.
The shape of fire protect me, the once powerful mage repeatedly chants to himself in silence as he steps up onto the rubble, and lord Farque takes a hold of his left arm, and whispers "Hold on tight".
Draugadrottin grabs the large ork who is on his otherside of him by the right arm, and quietly says in the guttural language of the orks "Hold on tight cunt".
"Huh fucken why?" quietly asks Dorc da Orc in his native language as he stands there in the vice like grip of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque "Because we're going for a fucking ride" quietly says Draugadrottin in the ork language. Then lord Farque kicks open the large doors to the suite . . . . . .