"Who is he?" asks justifier Marsille "A lead wyvern rider who was on patrol this morning" says an officer as they exit the command tent "And?" asks the justifier who is a sorcerer "He's the only one of the patrol to survive an attack this morning when they went ahead to check out an abandoned village" says the officer.
"Seems that village wasn't as abandoned as thought" sourly says the justifier, a man in his mid forties, who has been one of the rulers of the city of Falnic and the region of Belinswae for the last twenty years.
The two of them, along with a handful of guards make their way through the camp, that's mostly settled down now that it's night time. The sorcerer Marsille is just glad they've made camp this early tonight. Since the army has only traveled about five miles today. For once again they ran into problems, and today's was a common occurring one.
The pack animals and the wagon teams were playing up all day. The justifier who doesn't want the support staff and guards falling behind anymore. Is at his wits end, to get the damn horses and mules that haul the wagons and carts to go in the same direction as the rest of the army some days.
It's as if there's something deliberately making the pack animals misbehave on purpose in the opinion of the sorcerer from the city of Falnic. The justifier doesn't know it, but he's infact right with that assessment of the day's problems.
"We hardly went anywhere today, and now a patrol has been wiped out" says the sorcerer Marsille with a shake of his head, who then asks the officer walking beside him "How many in that patrol?". "Including the squad on the wyvern, over thirty sir" is the reply from the officer, the justifier winces, then as they walk by a cook fire, the sorcerer mutters "More than thirty, fuck".
"And the wyvern too sir" hesitantly adds the officer who continues with "It took off during the attack and hasn't been seen since" the justifier winces once more, then he quietly says "Damn it, those things are expensive, and bloody difficult to train" he softly sighs, then falls silent as they continue on their way through the camp.
The campsite tonight is along the base, and up the side of a hill, that's off the trade road they've been traveling on as they head north through the foothills into the Stone Hills proper. And tonight, like most nights so far this winter during the campaign against the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills, is bitterly cold with the wind blowing strongly as it is most of the time.
Justifier Marsille, who was all for the war. Though to start the campaign in the spring, not the winter. Refrains from sighing as they make their way down the hill. He's just glad it's not snowing here in the foothills at the moment, even though the day was fairly cloudy and grey, as it is tonight.
The sorcerer nods his head to one of the knights in his army, the ordered knight and his squire, are outside of their large tent. Being served dinner by his own cook, and attendant.
The sorcerer wishes he had servants as accomplished and dedicated as the knight's. Whose name he's never bothered to learn, just that he's from the order of the Virtuous Sword.
At least i can count of him, and the rest of the knights, justifier Marsille thinks to himself, who refrains from sighing at the main problem with his army, with the exception of it's inability to travel any lengthy distance during the daytime.
That problem he sees off through the darkness to the left as they continue downhill. It's the newest guards, those who have joined his army since the start of winter, when war broke out. Though join isn't exactly the right word to use when they're concerned. For they didn't actually join out of their own freewill, they were pressed into service.
Some of the newer guards away to the left are struggling to even light a fire. Whoever the more experienced guards are who are incharge of them has wandered off to let them fend for themselves. They new guards who for the most part were taken from the streets of Falnic and other towns north of the coastal city. Don't know much about soldiering, or about living in the rough, out in the wild countryside like these foothills.
The justifier dreads to think how inept they'll be once they get into the mountains of the Stone Hills. That's even if the army ever gets there at all.
The sorcerer Marsille, the officer with him, and the following guards, all of whom are experienced in the service of the army of the justifier from Falnic. Are down at the base of the hill, and the officer, who is holding a burning torch, points away to the right, and quietly says "He's at the infirmary".
"He's wounded?" asks the justifier who frowns as the officer didn't mention that "No justifier Marsille" says the officer, who then quietly adds "I thought it was best that he was held there". The sorcerer, like most men from the region from Belinswae, stands under five foot ten inches in height. But unlike most sorcerers, he doesn't wear layers of robes as they tend to do.
He does wear one layer, but it's thick, to ward off the cold. And it's worn over leather armour. Something else most practitioners of magic tend to go without. The sorcerer Marsille also has a sword on his left hip. A sword that he knows how to use in battle. Something that also isn't the norm for one who is a spellcaster.
He quietly says to the officer beside him "Yes, that's probably best" as they make their way to the series of tents that's the infirmary. They're located at the rear of the camp, as it always is, at the southern end of the camp. Just infront of all the supply wagons and carts.
They're met outside on the infirmary tents by a field surgeon, and a subaltern. The junior officer quietly says to the sorcerer from the city of Falnic "Justifier Marsille he's in there with just a pair of guards".
"Very well" says the sorcerer to the subaltern, the justifier then adds "You lot remain out here" Marsille then nods for the officer who came to the command tent to get him, to enter the sick tent with him.
Once inside, justifier Marsille says to the two experienced guards in there "Leave us". "Yes justifier" say the two guards who then make their way out of the tent. When they've left, the sorcerer gestures at one of the lit lamps hanging from one of the tent poles. The lamp light becomes brighter as he and the officer walk over to the only cot that's occupied.
The guard on it is lying, facing the tent wall behind the cot he's on. And as the blowing wind outside, sends that tent wall fluttering as a gust blows by. The sorcerer Marsille after slightly frowning says to the officer "It's Nael isn't it?" as he recognises the guard who was found late this afternoon close to a nearby village. "It is justifier" says the officer.
Damn, he's one of my best lead riders, the justifier thinks to himself, then the spellcaster who wears armour beneath his single robe, and has a sword to go with his leather armour, says to the officer "Has he said anything at all?". "Nothing sir" says the officer, who continues with "He just nodded his head once in a while when i asked him some questions" the officer, a veteran of a dozen years in the army of justifier Marsille, then adds "That's how i found out his wyvern took off and never returned".
The sorcerer nods his head, then looking down at the guard who is lying still on the cot beneath a blanket "Nael what happened?" there's no response from the wyvern rider. The justifier was expecting that after hearing what the officer said was found at the abandoned village. So he reads the mind of the lead rider of the wyvern that disappeared when the patrol it was attached to was attacked and wiped out with the exception of guard Nael.
The sorcerer Marsille grimaces and instantly regrets reading the mind of the wyvern rider. After just a few moments, the justifier drops the spell and mutters "Damn it" he then looks over at the officer, and quietly tells him "His mind is a mess".
After seeing the images within the mind of the unresponsive wyvern rider, the sorcerer asks the officer "Where exactly was he found?" the officer answers with "Just outside the village, in the middle of a lich yard". The justifier nods his head, then he quietly says "That makes senses" the officer who has been around the sorcerer long enough, that he feels comfortable asking him questions, asks one of the rulers of Belinswae "Did you find out what happened sir?".
Justifier Marsille is silent for a few moments as he looks down at the wyvern rider Nael lying on the cot, then the sorcerer who was born, and still lives in the city of Falnic, looks over at the officer who is part of his command structure, and tells him "From what little i could understand, he believes they were attacked by a single individual".
The experienced officer blinks in surprise, then he mutters "Shit" the sorcerer Marsille nods then quietly says "Indeed" he briefly pauses, before he continues with "That's if what he remembers is true" the justifier then nods his head for the officer to follow him to the other end of the sick tent.
At the far end of the infirmary, the sorcerer quietly says to the officer "If it is true, we can't allow this be known" justifier Marsille then adds "The army is in disarray at the best of times, what with all the hidden attacks we've encountered, and the inability of those damn pressed guards to do anything right, let alone trying to travel even five miles a day because the wagon teams are always playing up".
The sorcerer from Falnic looks back to the other end of the sick tent where the unresponsive guard lies on a cot, oblivious to everything around him, then he looks at the officer beside him, and says "Do you understand what i mean?".
"Yes justifier Marsille" says the officer, who perfectly well knows what the sorcerer wants done "Get rid of the body" quietly says the sorcerer, who then gestures to the other end of the tent. The two of them head that way, and the officer stops beside the cot that the wyvern rider Nael is on, while the justifier makes his way outside.
Once he's out of the long sick tent, the sorcerer Marsille looks at the pair of experienced guards who were inside the sick tent when he arrived, and he tells them "You two" he gestures to the tent, and says "The commander needs your help with something".
"Yes justifier" says the experienced guards, who then make their way into the infirmary, as they do, the sorcerer Marsille says to the subaltern "No one else is to enter the tent until the commander has finished questioning the patient". "Yes justifier" says the junior officer, the justifier nods his head, then he and the guards who came with him from the command tent, that's up the hill, move away.
As he walks away, Marsille the sorcerer slightly shakes his head as he recalls the reoccurring image within the mind of the wyvern rider Nael, who at this moment in the sick tent is being strangled to death.
The image is blurred, and of a large figure in dark armour who is walking towards the lead wyvern rider between the slightly raised mounds, and stone and wooden markers of a lich yard as Nael tries to flee.
What the hell is that all about? the justifier Marsille thinks to himself, he slightly shakes his head once more, then silently adds, well, i mean, who the hell is that?
Watching the sorcerer who leads this particular army from Belinswae, walking away from the infirmary, is Narladene the ground pixie, who is sitting upon the top of a pole that's sticking out of the top of the sick tent the justifier was just in.
The tiny winged creature looks down through a gap between the pole and the fabric of the tent, and she sees the wyvern rider who lord Farque let live this mornings, being wrapped in a blanket by two other guards after he was strangled to death by the officer who is quietly telling the two guards what he wants done with the body.
Wonder if he knows? Narladene the ground pixie thinks to herself as she goes back to watching the sorcerer and those guards with him, head back up the hillside to the command tent.
Probably, the naturally magical creature thinks to herself as she sensed the justifier reading the mind of the wyvern rider before he was killed. She figures the spellcaster would of seen something of the person responsible for wiping out the patrol this morning in the village, that's only a mile and half north of where the army has camped tonight.
Narladene murmurs "If so, he got what he wanted" the 'he' the ground pixie is referring to there, is lord Farque. Who wanted to plant the image of himself into the mind of the wyvern rider, who he let live. So that the leader of this army from Belinswae, knows exactly what he looks like.
The tiny winged creature then stands up and turns around on the top of the tent pole she's on, and as the dead wyvern rider is carried out of the back of the sick tent. Narladene looks towards the supply wagons and carts further behind the infirmary, in particular all horses and mules on their tie lines, the naturally magical creature grins.
Time to have some fun, the grinning ground pixie thinks to herself, Narladene who has been playing havoc with all the wagon teams for the last week or so, cutting their tie lines and reins, or just telling them to run away, even though talking to horses and mules can be a chore as they often don't listen to her.
Knows that tonight is her last night of causing mayhem amongst the horses and donkeys of the army of the sorcerer from Belinswae. For early tomorrow, there will be a battle just a little bit to the north of here, not far from the abandoned village that's on a lakeside.
As she draws her tiny, but extremely sharp sword that she'll use to cut the tie lines the nearby horses are on, Narladene with the grin still upon her face takes off from the tent pole, and with her gossamer like wings fluttering, she heads towards the nearest picket line where horses are tied up. Knowing that she's the main reason that this army of over a thousand guards, and half again that many camp followers, has been constantly delayed as they've traveled through the foothills towards the Kraelin clanhold . . . . . .
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