You Want A War? You've Got One! 42.

Falnic. Belinswae. Winter...

Near the main east gates of the city of Falnic, a group of Justifier's guards who are off duty, are drinking in a tavern as the day comes to an end.
Most of them are fairly new recruits, having only joined at the end of autumn, and early spring.
They're amongst the lucky one's, for they haven't been sent north as part of the invasion of the Stone Hills like a lot of their fellow guards.
For each Justifier of Falnic has left some of their guards back here in the coastal city that's the capital of Belinswae, if the region actually had a capital city.
As they don't want the sole remaining Justifier in Falnic, the wizard Sammacin. The youngest Justifier in all of Belinswae. To have complete control of the port city.
Hence, why they've left a number of their guards behind.
Though that might very well be a mistake more than anything else. For though most of these guards aren't pressed into service, and they've volunteered. There aren't many experienced guards to keep them in line, and more importantly, to watch out for them.
"You know, i think i might of met, well must of been your grandfather I'd say" says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy who is talking to one of the off duty guards who has come up to the bar to get another drink, since he's been unable to get the attention of one of the two serving women. Who are busy with the late afternoon rush that's come into the tavern.
"You might of you know" says the Justifier's guard, who continues with "He was in the army of the father of the Justifier i now serve" says the guard, who has only recently gone off duty, and is already a little tipsy.
"You look like him" says the elven spy from south of the equator, who continues with "He was on gate duty when i was last here in Falnic". The spy Tanith, who is passing himself off as a visitor from the principality of Maladimbáh, waves in the direction of the nearby east gates and adds "He was on the main gates that way".
A wide grin splits the face of the slightly intoxicated guard, who then says "That was him alright, my old grandpa was on gate duty a lot" he continues with "He's the reason i joined up" the Justifier's guard then mutters "Hell if i was going to work in the tannery with da and my brothers".
Dalinvardél Tanith, or Dalin as those who know him, refer to him as. Knows all this, as he heard this particular guard going on about it to his fellow guards, as they made their way to the tavern.
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, walked across rooftops as he followed them to this particular tavern. Listening to everything they talked about.
And as the guard calls out to his cohorts at the table in the corner "Hey this elf fellow here knew my old grandpa!". Dalin slips powder from a hidden vial into the mug of ale that the tavern keeper has just put at the elbow of the guard.
Turning back, and seeing that he's been served, the Justifier's guard takes his mug of ale, and takes a decent swig from it. He wipes his mouth, then he looks slightly up at the elven spy, who is taller than everybody else in the tavern by quite some distance, and asks him "Be it true you fellows live over a thousand years".
"Yeah that's true" says the spy Tanith, who continues having a conversation with the guard, as they chat, some of his fellow guards yell at him to get them some more drinks too.
When they're put on the bar, Dalin distracts the guard, and puts two more vials of powder into a couple of the mugs.
They continue talking for a little while longer, until the guard returns to his table when the others shout at him to bring their drinks over.
Dalinvardél Tanith departs the tavern knowing that later tonight. A few of those Justifier's guards are going to get a bad bout of dysentery. And that it'll spread through their barracks, and it will last for quite some time.
Thank you your highness, Dalin thinks to himself as he makes his way along the street outside the tavern. The elven spy who always carries a number of potions, poisons and powders with him. Was given a whole lot of new one's by Helbe the elven thief when the group left Falnic in the autumn, and headed north to the Stone Hills, and he remained here in the port city.
The elf from the principality of Alínlae hadn't even heard of some of them, let alone seen them before. So he had to quickly learn from the elven princeling, what they can, and can not do.
Dalin who is a bit of an expert on toxins and potions. Knows that his knowledge of them, pales insignificance to what prince Helbenthril Raendril knows about them.
The elven spy from south of the equator is also glad that he's got quite a bit of them at hand, and in storage throughout the city.
As he has used a fair bit of it in the three weeks he's been back in the city of Falnic after visiting the Galve clanhold in the Stone Hills.
The spy Tanith heads in the direction of the east gates of the city, he stops at a few shops along the way, having a quiet chat hear and there with business owners and shop workers.
Then as eventually dusk takes effect, he gets to main east gates of the city. There's a handful of people entering the city, one pushing a cart, and there's a wagon entering too.
Just a few people are leaving though, a couple on foot, and one on horse. Apart from that, it's quiet here at the main gates on the east side of Falnic.
Dalin sees that Justifier Sammacin's guards are on gate duty at the moment, the elven spy slightly nods as he was hoping that they would be.
The spy Tanith stands to one side, looking out the gates, looking into the distance to the east of the city.
He garners the attention of a couple of the guards, one of whom asks him "See much out there elf?" Dalinvardél Tanith looks over at him, and says "Not much".
The guard, an experienced one, who knows a little bit about elven kind, and knows that they can see clearly in the night, and see far in the distance too, asks him "See many people on the road?".
"Not many" replies the spy Tanith, who continues with "There's a couple with a pony and cart a few miles away, and there's someone on foot a little closer" he then adds "They won't be at the gates until later tonight".
"Quiet night again" says the guard, the guard beside him nods his head, then adds "Good". "They'll have to come in through the small gate" says the first guard, who indicates the large main gates, and adds "We close these soon".
Dalin nods then says "I know" followed by "I've been here a few times in the past, and seen the gates close at night" he looks around then adds "Though the first time i was here, the city was a little different, not to mention a little smaller".
"Smaller?" murmurs the second guard with a frown upon his face, while the first guard asks "How long ago was that". "Oh about four hundred years ago" says Dalinvardél Tanith, who as a spy, finds it easy to lie.
The second guard goggles in astonishment, while the first one chuckles, then tells the younger more inexperienced guard "Elven folk live a long, long time" followed by "A thousand years or more".
In the fading light of dusk, the elf from south of the equator nods that this is correct.
Having struck up a conversation, the three of them, the elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, and the two Justifier's guards quietly chat.
As they're talking a lamp lighter comes by, and lights the lamps and torches nearby. The first guard then says to Dalin "If you're leaving, you better go now" he then adds "The others are about to close the main gates".
"No, i only got here a few days ago, still got a fair bit of business to do" says the spy Tanith, who has told the two guards that he's a trader from the principality of Maladimbáh.
"How is business?" asks the second, younger guard "A little slow" replies the Southlander "Bit like gate duty this winter" murmurs the first guard.
"But it's good when a deal is made" says the elven spy, who then adds "War is good like that". "I guess so" says the first guard, as the call by another guard says it's time for the city gates to close.
As other guards, start turning the massive winch wheels that close the gates, Dalinvardél Tanith says "You know I've never seen your city so quiet in all the years I've come here" he continues with "Even when it was smaller, and not as many people were living here".
"The war to the north will do that" says the first guard with a shake of his head, as the three of them watch the large gates being closed "Surprised your leaders are warring in the north" quietly says the spy Tanith who quickly glances sideways at the two shorter humans, who are still watching the gates being closed.
Then the elf who was once in the service of one of the noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae, nods to the east, and says "Considering your enemies are out there to the east".
The first guard sourly smiles, while the second, younger one, mutters under his breath, which Dalin easily hears "Rather fight the nomads, than freeze my ass off fighting the dwarves in the mountains".
"That's the truth" says the first guard, who continues with "Not all the Justifiers in the region have gone north to the war" he then adds "Our one, the wizard Sammacin has remained in Falnic, thinking it's more important than wandering around in the Stone Hills fighting the dwarven clans".
"Wise man" says Dalinvardél Tanith, both guards grin, for their Justifier who is in his early twenties, is the youngest Justifier in all of Belinswae. Who wouldn't normally be described as wise. But in this instance, he very well might be.
"I guess so" says the first guards, who like his cohorts in the army of Justifier Sammacin, has noticed the drastic shift in attitude from the young wizard since the middle of summer. The rumours about his certain behaviours have died down, and he's more amiable person to deal with.
Dalin waves to the east as the massive gates shut, and he says "Good thing he's stayed, what with your enemy gathering out on the plains". "Eh?" says the first guard, as he and his younger cohort, look at the taller elf they're standing next to.
"When i traveled through the plains to get here, i saw a whole lot of the tribes coming together" says the spy Tanith, who continues with "They do so on occasion, but not as many as i saw last week".
"Wonder why that is?" murmurs the younger of the two guards, the elf from south of the equator slightly shrugs then says "I'm not sure, but the last time i heard that they gathered in such large numbers was just over three hundred years ago".
Dalin who had to learn up on the local history between the tribal nomads of the plains, and the townsmen of Belinswae then adds "When they were last at war against you lot in Belinswae i believe".
The younger guard frowns and murmurs "They did?" while the older, more experienced guard, who is a bit more knowledgeable, says "That's when they pushed into the lands to the southeast" he continues with "Down where the half breeds have all their villages now".
"That was it" says Dalin, who continues with "Didn't see it myself, but heard about it in the years afterwards" the older of the two guards nods then says to the elf from south of the equator "Do you mind waiting here for a moment, just need to get the duty officer".
"No worries, as your humans say" says the elven spy, the experienced guard nods, then hurries over to the nearby gate house which is at the base of one of the two towers on either side of the massive gates that have just been closed.
"Do you know what happened back then?" asks the younger guard who has remained next to the Southlander "Not much" replies Dalinvardél Tanith who continues with "Think it was a bit of stale mate, they didn't push too far into Belinswae, but a lot from both sides were killed and injured".
"Bloody nomad scum" mutters the young guard, who like all townsmen of the region of Belinswae, hates the nomads who live on the dry, arid plains to the east.
The older experienced guard returns from the gate house with the duty officer, and another guard. The first guard asks Dalin to repeat what he told him about the gathering nomads out on the plains.
After the elven spy does so, the officer asks him "How many would you guess?". "About fifteen hundred, maybe closer to two thousand" replies the spy Tanith, who continues with "Whenever I've traveled across the plains, which I've done on and off for four hundred years or so, I've seen a few tribes gather once and while, but never more than a few hundred nomads in the same spot".
"What the hell are they up to?" softly says the officer who rubs his chin, the elf from south of the equator nods to the two guards he's been talking to, and says "Like i said earlier, the last time i heard of so many nomads in one place, was when they attacked Belinswae about three hundred years ago".
The officer is silent for a few moments as he looks up at the taller elf, whose facial features in the pale flickering light from the nearby lamps, look totally unhuman compared to him and his fellow guards.
Then the officer asks him "Where exactly did you see them?" Dalin frowns as if he's remembering, infact he's just trying to come up with a town or village to the southeast in Belinswae, when he does, he says "About sixty miles into the plains from the half blood village" he says the name of the village, then adds "I think that's the name of the place now, it was called something else when i first saw it years ago".
"Yeah i know the place" quietly says the officer, who has stopped at that village a number of times when he's gone raiding into the Nomad's Plains on the backs of wyverns.
"Thanks for the information" says the officer, who with the other guard who came from the gate house, move off. They talk quietly which the spy Tanith can easily hear. And a few moments later the other guard hurries away heading to the main barracks of Justifier Sammacin's army. While the officer returns to the gate house.
Let the rumours begin, Dalinvardél Tanith thinks to himself, who then continues to chat with the two guards on gate duty. After awhile he wishes them a goodnight, as he's off to get something for dinner. Which he actually intends to do.
As he walks into the city away from the main east gates, Dalin murmurs to himself in the elven language "Just hope those two have actually got themselves an army" referring to Riley Hait the mercenary ranger and Dorc da Orc.
If not, then spreading these rumours will be for nothing, the spy Tanith thinks to himself as he goes off in search for an inn to have dinner at . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 41.

Belinswae. Winter...

As Mira Reinholt the mage hands his bow and quiver to Shur Kee the monk. The dwarven warrior Ompal quietly asks the once powerful mage "Mage lad, you'd really be a swordmaster ain't you?".
"Of course i am" says Mira Reinholt the mage as he looks down at Ompal and Garkil, both of whom have seen the Vexilian mage in exile blow up plenty of things and people. But they've never actually seen him use his sword. Or his case, two swords.
"That's good to know" murmurs Ompal, who then looks over to where swordmaster Varl is standing near the tree that a crowd of dwarven warriors is gathering near.
"Better use this one" quietly says the highly skilled swordmaster from the Southlands as he glances down at the blade on his left hip.
The mage Reinholt takes the double bladed sword strapped across his back, and gives that to the acolyte in the order of Bru Li as well.
"Wouldn't be fair if i used that, right Shur Kee?" quietly says the spellcaster from south of the equator with a nod of his hooded head indicating the unique looking, air elemental designed sword he's just handed to the short statured monk.
"No it would not be fair" quietly says Shur Kee the monk who faintly similes. Then the once powerful mage takes off his long, winter cloak, folds it up, and hands it to Ompal.
The mage who is in exile from his homeland of Vexil, draws the sword from the scabbard on his left hip. He briefly looks along the black blade, that was scorched by dragon fire in the summertime.
The highly skilled swordmaster from south of the equator, then steps forward towards the large tree, and the waiting dwarven swordmaster, Varl.
"No killing blows?" says Mira Reinholt "Aye no killing blows" says the dwarven swordmaster Varl as they stand about a dozen paces apart, looking at one another.
There's silence from the gathered war party, the only sound is the wind through the nearby trees. And from the burning buildings in the village about fifty yards away.
"Ready?" asks the mage Reinholt, who says that in the dwarven language as that's a word he knows "Aye ready" replies Varl in the same language.
They move, with the spellcaster from south of the equator, circling away to his right, away from the tree. The Vexilian mage in exile wants better footing beneath him. To where the ground is flatter. He also doesn't want to trip on a hidden root near the large tree.
The dwarven swordmaster, who is the second of the Galve clan chieftain has the same idea. And he moves away to his left.
Varl who has his sword pointed down towards the ground, at an angle out and to his right side. Narrows his eyelids as he watches the human from the Southlands.
He sees that the mage Reinholt, has his sword pointed down towards the ground too. Though his sword, that has a curious blade that's entirely black, is more straight down infront of him that out to any side.
The dwarven swordmaster who is watching both the blade of the human swordmaster, as well as his foot movement.
Sees that indeed he is facing a formidable opponent. As his movements are assured, and his sword is steady in his hand.
Mira Reinholt knows he has the advantage of reach, being taller and having a longer weapon. Also figures he's probably quicker than the shorter dwarf.
But the once powerful mage knows that like all dwarves, Varl is stronger than he looks. And that the shorter broadsword he wields, will be heavy against his own blade.
The exiled Vexilian mage is just glad that the black bladed weapon that he wields. Is basically indestructible thanks to it being in the fire of a dragon during the summer. Infact it killed that dragon, when lord Farque briefly used it.
The mage Reinholt knows it won't be the blade that fails him. It will only be him, and him alone. Who'll lose this duel with Varl if he's not careful.
The spellcaster from south of the equator who is wearing hardened leather armour, knows that if hit, he's more likely to get badly injured compared to the dwarven swordmaster, who is wearing a mix of ringmail, chainmail, and leather armour.
Mira Reinholt stops moving, as does Varl, the two are facing one another. The dwarf at just a little over four and half foot tall, is almost a foot and half shorter than the human in the black leather armour.
They stare at one another, both unwilling to make the first move. Then as a restless murmur starts to build up amongst the watching war party.
Mira Reinholt grins, and a grin splits the bearded face of Varl. Then the two swordmasters move at the exact same time, towards one another, swinging their blades as they do so.
Shur Kee the monk closes his eyes. As he does he hears the weapons of the two combatants come together. It won't be the last time the longsword of Mira Reinholt connects with the broadsword swung by Varl.
With his eyes closed, the acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li, silently prays to the Jade Warrior that both swordmasters come out of this alive. Though he must admit, he would like to see his friend, the mage Reinholt come out of this, not just alive, but also victorious.
For Shur Kee knows that a lot is riding on this. Not just the respect of Varl towards the Vexilian mage in exile.
But also that the entire war party has to understand that it's the human swordmaster, and the tactics and decisions that he comes up with, that they must follow without question. Even though he's not the leader in name.
The monk, who is rather short for an adult human, though he's average height amongst the local populace here in Belinswae.
Listens to the exertions of the two combatants, and their weapons clanging, and sliding against one another when they connect.
It's easier to do so, as the gathered war party have hushed, and are watching in rapt silence.
Next to the monk from the far eastern coast of the continent. The two dwarves Ompal and Garkil share a look. Both lifting their eyebrows in surprise. For that they see that Mira Reinholt, though a mage, is indeed a swordmaster, and a highly skilled one at that.
They watch, as the spellcaster from south of the equator. Is quicker than swordmaster Varl. Though the strikes of the dwarven swordmaster are heavier.
With the mage Reinholt often taking his sword in both hands, as he parry's away the broadsword of the much shorter dwarven swordmaster.
Ompal then Garkil glance sideways at the one they call brother, the monk named Shur Kee. Who stands there with eyes closed, not watching the duel between the two swordmasters, but listening to it.
Ompal looks at Garkil, who slightly shrugs his shoulders. Then the two dwarven warriors who have been with the mage Reinholt since he first came to the Galve clanhold. Go back to watching the duel between the human and dwarven swordmasters.
Young Tarong eyebrows rise up in alarm, for though the swordmasters agreed on no killing blows. They're not exactly holding back, and any significant strike they might land, will cause serious injury.
Tarong who is standing amongst some of the war party who left clan Galve last, and brought Shur Kee the monk south into Belinswae with them.
Looks at old Kalend standing beside him, and gives him a nudge with his elbow, and nods towards the two combatants who are doing their best to maim one another.
The old warrior who taught clan chief Lomi Galve the hammer and axe. Nods in understanding as he watches the two swordmasters try to do their best land a disabling blow on one another.
There's a cut down the left arm of Mira Reinholt, the leather armour has been split, and he's bleeding from the upper part of the arm.
He's just glad that cut wasn't on the lower part of the arm. As that's his automaton arm, and it would be hard to explain that while it looks like it's been cut, it probably wouldn't be bleeding.
He wonders if the permanent Greater Illusion spell cast by Helbe the elven thief, that's been locked to the lower part of his left arm, would actually bleed.
Finding out in the middle of a duel where a dwarven swordmaster is trying to cause him serious harm, isn't exactly the best time to find out.
As for swordmaster Varl, there's a cut across his forehead, that has blood running down the right side of his face, some of it getting in his right eye.
It was caused by his own blade, that he just got up in time, to parry a double handed blow from his human opponent. Which forced his broadsword back, with the edge coming back and cutting his own forehead open.
Though the duel between the two swordmasters seems evenly matched as they swing their swords at one another. Blocking and parrying one another's blades.
One of them has a slight advantage. And that's the spellcaster from south of the equator.
For though Varl has fought humans recently with the Justifier's guards who have invaded the Stone Hills. It's his first time at fighting humans in nearly two centuries.
While for the highly skilled swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, he has fought numerous dwarves over the last sixteen years since he first started learning the sword at the age of fourteen.
In both battle, and in duels. So he's familiar with fighting much shorter dwarves. While for swordmaster Varl, this is the first serious human opponent he's faced since he was a youngster.
And besides, the slight advantage the mage Reinholt has had. Has been helped that he's sparred against two people who have taught him numerous techniques is fighting shorter opponents such as dwarves.
They being lord Farque and Dorc da Orc.
The once powerful mage who truth be told, knows he could of made things easier on himself if he used his double bladed sword, instead of the sword with the black blade.
Isn't adverse to fighting dirty in duels, infact it's pretty much the only way you can survive training against Dorc da Orc, who doesn't really spar against you, he's actually trying to kill you.
Mira Reinholt steps in close to the shorter Varl, who has the advantage when the two of them get close.
That doesn't concern the mage Reinholt, who doesn't swing his sword, instead he punches with the hilt of the black bladed sword, catching the dwarven swordmaster in the face.
Varl staggers back with a bloody nose, and his eyes watering. He just gets his broadsword up, and it's hit by a powerful double handed swing by his human opponent.
The dwarven swordmaster's weapon goes flying from his hands. And Mira Reinholt swings his longsword again. Turning it at the last instant. The flat of the blade whacks Varl on the right arm.
The dwarven warrior drops to his knees, groaning in pain with a broken right arm. He briefly closes his eyes, then quickly opens them and looks up as he feels the point of the human swordmaster's blade at his throat.
"Are we done?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage as he looks down at the dwarven swordmaster who is on his knees, clutching his broken right arm with his left hand.
Varl who grimaces in pain, is silent for a few moments, finally nods his head, then says "Aye, we're done".
The highly skilled swordmaster from south of the equator nods his head, then takes the point of his sword away from the throat of the dwarven warrior who is the second of the Galve clan chief.
"Good" says the once powerful mage who returns the sword with the black blade to it's scabbard, then the swordmaster Reinholt, leans down, touches the broken right arm of the dwarven swordmaster and heals it with a spell.
Varl, who feels slightly tired, moves his arm that a moment ago was broken, then he looks up at the human swordmaster standing over him, who tells him "Have the war party ready to depart".
Mira Reinholt turns and walks away saying "We're done here". Meaning both the destruction of the village, and any future questioning of his tactics and decisions from now on . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 40.

Belinswae. Winter...

"What are we supposed to do now?" demands the villager "Leave and head south" replies Mira Reinholt the mage, who looks at the group of villagers on the dirt road, just outside the place they call home, which is being put to the torch behind the Vexilian mage in exile.
"I'd head down the coast as far as Falnic" says the once powerful mage "Then what?" says the villager who has come forward as the spokesman for the others "Tell them that a bunch of dwarves have come south into Belinswae, destroying everything in their path" replies the mage Reinholt, who gestures to the village behind him.
Just then, another of the houses goes up in flames when a couple of the dwarven warriors find a cask of lamp oil, and smash it open, then throw it along with a burning torch into that house.
"Which you can see is happening" says the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, who continues with "And which is happening because your Justifiers have invaded their clanholds in the Stone Hills".
The villager looks bitterly at what's happening to his and the others homes, and the mage, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, steps closer to him, and quietly says "Be glad you and the others are still alive" Mira Reinholt adds "If this was a human army that came marauding through your homeland, you'd be dead, and your women would be raped".
The villager, a man in his forties, short like most people living in Belinswae, looks up at the taller Southlander, then slowly nods his head in understanding.
Then he turns and makes his way back to where the other villagers are on the dirt road.
After he has a few quiet words with them, they get underway, heading south on the road. Taking what little possessions they could gather and put in their carts and wagons before being forced from their homes. Most are on foot as they walk into the teeth of the wind that's blowing in from the coast just a few miles to the west, on what's a fairly cloudy winter's day here in the northwest part of Belinswae.
The exiled Vexilian mage looks at a child wrapped up in a ragged cloak, sitting on the back of a cart, looking forlornly at the only home he's ever known going up in flames.
Then the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands, turns around and walks away.
Mira Reinholt eventually stops next to a building that's yet to be put to the torch. It's the local chandlerly and store. That some of the dwarven warriors are taking anything of worth from. Mostly food supplies and equipment they can use.
The highly skilled swordmaster looks down at the two dead bodies, villagers who thought they would rather fight they see their homes destroyed.
Shur Kee the monk is standing over them, quietly chanting a prayer for the dead in the language of his homeland, the kingdom of Wah Lee, which lies far to the east, on the other coast of the continent, nearly ten thousand miles away.
The mage Reinholt looks to his right, where the warriors Ompal and Garkil come and stand next to him. "Some people will always fight, even when given the chance to leave free with their lives" quietly says Ompal "Aye, that's the truth" says Garkil, who looks at the dead villagers, two of five who tried to defend their homes, and were killed for their efforts "Poor dumb bastards" adds Garkil in a murmur, as he shakes his head.
As the three of them watch as the short statured monk in the odd looking, conical shaped hat continues to chant, the warrior Ompal clears his throat, then quietly says "Mage there be something me and the other lads be wanting to say".
The exiled Vexilian mage who knows Ompal is referring to the original war party he's been with since first pushing into northern Belinswae. Has been expecting this for the past week as they've headed further south into Belinswae.
Infact he was expecting it a lot earlier, not now when they're almost into the central coastal area of the region that's ruled by the Justifiers.
"It's just that" says Ompal, who struggles for a moment at what to say, and finally breathes a sigh of relief, when the mage Reinholt tells him "Go ahead Omp, I've got a feeling i know what you're going to say" the Vexilian mage in exile then adds in a slightly dry tone of voice "I am a spellcaster after all".
Ompal, who along with Garkil, led the war party that the Southlander was originally with, grins, then says "Aye that you are, ain't no one doubts that" then after clearing his throat again, the dwarven warrior adds "It's just that swordmaster Varl is chief Lomi's second" he briefly pauses then adds "And we've got to respect that".
"Aye mage" says Garkil, who looks down at his heavy boots, before he adds "Though Omp and myself, and the rest of lads who were with us from the start when we came south, would rather be still at your side, than be with this lot".
Mira Reinholt, who has the hood of his cloak off his head, lifts it up and covers his head, then nods as he says "I know, and i thank you for it". Nearby, Shur Kee the monk falls silent after coming to the end of his chant, he remains where he is as he looks over at the Southlander and the two dwarves.
The once powerful mage then says to Ompal and Garkil "I know you're only doing what's best for you and the others".
The highly skilled swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil knows that over the past week, they along with the original war party he's been with. Have been pressured by the larger war party that swordmaster Varl is in command of. Infact the dwarven swordmaster is command of all of them, even though they're doing what the mage Reinholt says.
They've been pressured not to be the human spellcaster's personal attack force. And that they're to join in with the rest of the larger war party from clan Galve who have pushed deep into the region of Belinswae.
Surprisingly, the third war party. Those led by young Tarong and old Kalend. Who brought Shur Kee south with them from the Galve clanhold.
Have remained silent on the matter.
Mira Reinholt wanting to know his standing amongst the entire war party of well over two hundred warriors. Isn't beyond some snooping, so to speak.
As he's cast a few spells here and there to see what's being said about him, and to find out the thoughts of various dwarves.
He knows that Ompal and Garkil, and the rest of his original war party, would like things to remain as they are. With them at his beck and call, carrying out his orders without having to go through swordmaster Varl.
As for the dwarven swordmaster and his war party. Most of the warriors amongst them couldn't care less that they're actually following the orders of the human spellcaster.
Not so Varl himself, who is more than displeased that they're actually carrying out the mage Reinholt's tactics. Whose idea it was to push south into the region of Belinswae. Well to be exact, they're orders from lord Farque. Who has told the once powerful mage what he wants done. And to extrapolate upon them as he sees fit.
As for the third group amongst the larger war party. Those led by Tarong and old Tharlo, they're pretty indifferent to the whole situation. Though they, especially Tarong and Tharlo, respect the decisions of the monk Shur Kee. Who unquestionably follows the lead of the exiled Vexilian mage.
Mira Reinholt who through spellcraft has found out why the dwarven swordmaster Varl doesn't like what's going on, says to Ompal and Garkil "Say, there's something you can help me out with" they look up at him expectantly, and he asks them "How good of swordmaster is Varl anyway?".
The once powerful mage has learnt that Varl doesn't like the fact, that he, the mage Reinholt is a swordmaster too.
After glancing at one another, Ompal says to the human in the black hooded cloak "He be pretty damn good". "Aye, best one in the entire Stone Hills" adds Garkil, who continues on in a slightly dry tone with "He be the only one in the Stone Hills as well". As dwarven warriors favour the axe and hammer, or even a mallet, less so a mace, over a sword. Though they all have knives and daggers they use in combat too. They're only back up weapons. For using a blade as a primary weapon, such as a sword. Isn't exactly frowned upon, but it's also not encouraged.
"Well, why don't we go and find out" quietly says Mira Reinholt, as the chandlerly nearby, is set alight by a few of the warriors.
Garkil and Ompal look at one another, then look at the human they've been following since he arrived in their clanhold "Aye let's" says Ompal, who Garkil nods in agreement with.
The three of them walk off, followed by Shur Kee the monk. Who expected something like this would happen.
The acolyte in the order of Bru Li who is a good judge of character. Has noticed over the past week, the resentment from the dwarven swordmaster Varl towards the mage Reinholt.
The Galve clan chieftain's second has questioned every decision the once powerful mage has made. Always doubting the tactics of the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil.
Who has brought them south into Belinswae with minimal losses and casualties, as they've destroyed villages, hamlets and towns, sending the populace they come across, fleeing southwards.
Facing little resistance from Justifier's guards, due to most of them being involved with the invasion of the Stone Hills.
Mira Reinholt glances back at Shur Kee as he thinks about something, the once powerful mage gestures the acolyte in the order of Bru Li forward.
"I might need your help with something Shur Kee" quietly says the exiled Vexilian mage as they head around the village that's being put to the torch.
"Of course friend Mira" says Shur Kee the monk as he walks alongside his travelling companion, the two dwarves, Ompal and Garkil who are on the otherside of the mage Reinholt pay attention to what the two humans are saying.
"What will you be needing?" asks the monk who is relatively short for a human, he could pass for a local if wasn't for his strange attire that he wears under his light coloured, wooly winter cloak, not to mention the odd shaped hat on his head.
"Just tell the truth Shur Kee, that's all" quietly says the spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster "Of course, as i always do" says the physical adept, who still wears his sandals, even though it's a cold winter's day.
The once powerful mage smiles, as that was the answer he was hoping for, then the spellcaster from south of the equator murmurs in the elven language "Now which one do i use?" as he puts a gloved hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip.
They make their way to where most of the warriors are waiting as the others burn the last of the buildings in the village. The mage Reinholt leads Shur Kee, Ompal and Garkil towards a large tree that a number of the war party are beneath, quietly talking amongst themselves.
The Vexilian mage in exile walks straight towards swordmaster Varl who is chatting with a couple of others. It's obvious where the human spellcaster is heading, and the dwarves in his path, are quick to get out of his way.
As everyone in the entire war party from the Galve clan who have pushed deep into Belinswae, almost to the central area of the region ruled by the Justifiers, know that there's tension between the two swordmasters, one human and the other dwarven.
Mira Reinholt, never one to beat around the bush, and always to the point, stops right infront of the dwarven swordmaster, standing so close that Varl, who stops in mid sentence what he was talking about to the other two warriors. Has to take a step back, and look up at the Southlander who looks down at him.
"There's something we need to do" says the mage who is in exile from his homeland the city-state of Vexil "Oh?" says swordmaster Varl, who with a raised eyebrow, asks "And what's that mage?". The dwarven swordmaster doesn't say the word mage with scorn, but he also didn't say it with much respect either "Draw that sword of yours and find out" quietly says Mira Reinholt.
The dwarves gathered on this side of the village were quiet when they saw the human spellcaster walk up to swordmaster Varl, now they've all gone silent.
The only sounds come from the wind that's blowing through the nearby trees, and the noise of the burning buildings in the village that's being put to the torch.
Then eventually the the dwarven swordmaster breaks the silence by saying "And why would i do that?" he then adds "Mage" this time with hardly any respect in saying it.
"You know exactly why" quietly says the mage Reinholt, who then takes a few steps back, before he continues with "Shorty". Obviously an insult, as it's intended to be.
Varl scowls, as does quite a few of the other dwarves, mainly from the larger war party that the dwarven swordmaster led before they joined up with the others from clan Galve.
"Well?" says the spellcaster from the Southlands, who continues with "Are you just going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to draw that blade of yours?".
Varl puts a hand on the pommel of his sword, and is about to take a step forward as he knows what the human in the black hooded cloak wants. When he stops and frowns, then he says "Aye, you'd like that wouldn't you" the dwarven swordmaster then adds "How will i know if this is fair like?" he then says in a slightly disparaging tone "You do be a mage, who can use spells to his advantage".
"I won't" says Mira Reinholt, who nods his hooded head to where Shur Kee stands nearby with Ompal and Garkil, and he adds "The monk Shur Kee he will know if i cast or not".
"That's rather convenient" says the dwarven warrior who is the second to the Galve clan chief, Lomi Galve "He's a human, who happens to be your friend" adds the dwarven swordmaster.
"This may be so" says Shur Kee who speaks up, the short statured monk continues with "But friend Mira speaks the truth swordmaster Varl, i will know if he casts or not, and i shall speak up about it if he does".
"Can't very well trust either of them" loudly mutters the dwarven swordmaster in his own language, which Mira Reinholt is slowly learning, but only knows basic phrases. While Shur Kee has no idea about the dwarven language.
After a few moments of silence, a voice says in the common language "Varl you can trust brother Shur Kee to do what he says". It's old Tharlo, who has made his way over to the large tree with Tarong and a few others in the war party who brought the acolyte in the order of Bru Li south with them from the Galve clanhold.
"He speaks the truth" says old Tharlo who then adds "And i trust him" beside him, the young warrior Tarong nods his head in agreement.
Swordmaster Varl might be clan chief Lomi's second, and his best friend. But old Tharlo is the one who taught their clan chief the hammer and the axe. Who still calls their clan chieftain lad, and on occasion, idiot. Infront of others too, knowing he'll face no repercussions.
Swordmaster Varl slowly nods, then he looks at the human spellcaster and says "Very well" then he draws his sword from it's scabbard, and he adds "Let's do this".
"Yes, let's" says Mira Reinholt with a nod of his hooded head . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 39.

The Stone Hills. Winter...

About seven miles southeast of where the battle is taking place between a substantial sized force from Justifier Maxime's army, and a combined army of dwarves from various clans, to the east of Išorkam Uñd.
Helbe the elven thief is on a hilltop, frowning as he looks of to the south. The blurred and shielded elven magic user is looking for someone and something, and he can't find either of them.
"Bloody hell" mutters Helbe the elven thief, who then silently adds, by the forest gods, is he holding his power within himself?
That infact turns out to be true. Because a little while later, Narladene the ground pixie suddenly appears infront of the young elven noble, and says "I've found him" the tiny winged creature makes a face, then adds "He's been holding his power within himself, that's why you couldn't find him".
"Bloody knew it" mutters prince Helbenthril Raendril in the royal elven language, then switching to the regular elven language, he asks the naturally magical creature who is attached to him "Where?".
"There" says the ground pixie who lands upon the right shoulder of the elven masterthief and points, nodding his hooded head, the young elven noble looks to where Narladene has pointed. Then after she grabs a hold of his shoulder, he shifts away.
It takes him a handful of shifts to get where he wants to go. Once he's on the side of another hill, which he starts walking up, Helbe the elven thief tells Narladene "The battle has begun" he points skywards, and adds "I went up and had a look back to the northwest, and saw that they had engaged with the enemy".
The tiny winged creature who is the middle of her eighth century of life, still relatively young for one of her kind, says "He might know too" the elven princeling glances sideways at her, and she adds "He's pretty powerful for a wizard".
"Oh?" says the elven master assassin, who then adds "How powerful?". "Well more than you are" slyly says the ground pixie, the elven magic user snorts, then wryly says "That's not exactly difficult" he continues with "A lot of spellcasters are more powerful than me".
Narladene, who still finds it difficult to believe that a royal elf such as Helbenthril Raendril, is fairly weak magically compared to a lot of other practitioners of magic, tells him "About as powerful as that fat delver Barmil".
"That is powerful for a wizard alright" murmurs the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel, which is off the coast of the Southlands.
The ground pixie who is attached to him, knows that though he's not particularly powerful. He makes up for that with how talented he is with magic, and how skillful, not to mention how inventive.
For though most spellcasters go through life without creating a single original spell. Helbenthril Raendril, who at just over two hundred years old, young for any elf, let alone a royal one. Has already created a number of spells that had never been thought of before.
Then when the blurred and shielded elven magic user gets to the crest of the hill that's got a dusting of snow on it, which is yet to melt on this sunny winter's day.
He looks down into a valley nestled between a few hills. Down in the valley is an army, it's the main bulk of the forces of the Justifier Maxime.
"Quite a few of them" murmurs the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, Helbe the elven thief figures that there must be in excess of two and half thousand guards down in the valley, and that doesn't count the numerous amount of camp followers and support guards who are with them.
That's just an advanced party the dwarves are battling at the moment, the elven master archer thinks to himself as he watches the army down in the valley below.
They're not actually moving at the moment, it looks like they've briefly stopped for their midday meal.
"Right" quietly says prince Helbenthril Raendril, who then asks the ground pixie standing on his right shoulder "Where exactly is he?".
"He's there" is the answer from Narladene who points to one of the tents that have been put up, as the army from Belinswae briefly stops.
Now what should i do? the young even noble from the principality of Laerel thinks to himself as he rubs his jaw, and contemplates what he'll do now that he's found the wizard Maxime, who is one of the Justifiers of Belinswae, who have invaded the Stone Hills.
The Southlander has been given orders to kill the Justifier down in the valley below. He's just wondering what else he can achieve while he goes about killing the leader of the army that has pushed into the Omban clanhold.
Now that he's closer to the enemy army, he wonders about something else "You know an army that big, you'd think he'd have a number of other spellcasters with him" says the elven princeling, who continues with "I don't sense any".
"Nor do i" says Narladene with a frown upon her face, she continues with "Only other one's nearby are with that lot fighting the dwarves at the moment" she adds "There's a couple there" the ground pixie pauses once more, before saying "Well there's just one now".
Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head, the battle to the northwest, is too far away for him to sense. So he has to rely on Narladene to inform him with what's happening there magically.
"Still, you'd think he'd have at least a couple with him here" murmurs the elven magic user, who looks around and senses, before he says "I wonder if he's cast anything recently?".
He looks at the tiny winged creature on his right shoulder, and asks her "Is he casting at the moment?" he gestures down at the enemy army, and adds "And has he set anything?" as he has a suspicion the wizard from Belinswae knows how to hide his spells.
"He's not casting at the moment" answers the ground pixie, who then adds "But you're right, he has set a few spells in and around the army down there" she then informs the young elven noble at what they are.
After she does, he asks her "What's he using to hide those spells?" prince Helbenthril Raendril adds "Describe it".
A masking spell? the elven magic user thinks to himself after Narladene describes to him how the wizard is hiding the spells he's set.
The elven masterthief slightly shrugs, then having the ground pixie tell him exactly where the hidden spells are. And seeing that the army below is about to get going again, as tents are being pulled down. The elven master assassin shifts down into the army from Belinswae, as he has a job to do.
As he walks between Justifier's guards, unseen and unheard, Helbe the elven thief faintly smiles as he doesn't see a single wyvern with the army, or any in the skies above.
He suspects there are probably a few around, but they're somewhere away to the south. Since he and lord Farque have either captured or killed most of the tame wyverns that Justifier Maxime's army have been using.
The grandson of Prince Raendril slips through a barrier spell around a tent, with his shield spell making him undetected by the alarm spell around the tent too, as he follows a couple of guards inside.
Helbe the elven thief stands to one side, looking at the Justifier who is with a couple of his commanding officers looking at some maps on a camp table, as guards start packing up other things in the tent.
Ah so that's where you're hiding them, the elven masterthief thinks to himself as he reads the mind of the wizard, and finds out where he has a trio of spellcasters who are usually with him. They're far away to the south, infact they're in northern Belinswae.
The Justifier, a man in his late thirties, tall for someone from Belinswae as he's nearly six foot tall. Has them come to him via rift, whenever he's in need of them.
Think I'll bring them here too, the elven master archer thinks to himself, who then continues to read the mind of the wizard Maxime, who wears the typical wizard's robes. Helbe the elven thief is surprised the Justifier doesn't have a staff, since he looks so much like a stereotypical wizard.
The Southlander slightly nods his hooded head as finds out what lord Farque suspected. That the smaller army of Justifier Maxime to the northwest, was to engage the dwarven forces here in the Omban clanhold, to try and wipe them out. Or at least severely damage them so that they're no longer a threat to the Justifier's forces.
Before he moves the main bulk of his army northwards into the heart of the Omban clanhold, north of Išorkam Uñd, where they can take over the mines and underground settlements of the dwarves, along with the Omban mountainhold itself.
Clever, he's got superior numbers, might as well use them to his advantage, the elven prince from the island of Laerel thinks to himself, then having decided what he's going to do, which isn't kill the Justifier from Belinswae straight away, the elven master assassin casts a spell, and takes over the mind of the wizard Maxime.
The commanding officers are slightly surprised when Justifier Maxime suddenly tells them what he's about to do, they stand back, and little while later, a rift starts to form in the middle of the tent.
The wizard from central Belinswae, sends a couple of the guards packing things up, through the rift to get what he wants. It's only a few moments later that they return, with them are a trio of spellcasters who have been staying in an inn in a town in northern Belinswae.
The three, a hedge wizard, a witch, and an apprentice magic user. All of whom are not particularly powerful. As the Justifiers of Belinswae like to have control of those spellcasters they don't kill, who they have work for them.
Helbe the elven thief who can easily cast multiple spells at the same time, when most other practitioners of magic find it difficult to cast two spells simultaneously, and near impossible to cast three at once. Takes over the minds of the three newcomers.
Then the elven magic user has them, along with the wizard Maxime, wreck havoc here within the large army in a valley nestled between some hills.
The commanding officers, the guards infront of them, and most of the tent, vanish in a swirl of fire, as the wizard Maxime creates a fireball that he sends hurtling away from himself.
Helbe the elven thief who is a bit behind the Justifier, has the trio of spellcasters from northern Belinswae hurry after the departing fireball. Casting spells of their own. The fairly powerful wizard follows more slowly after them, as they attack their own army with the full force of their magical powers.
The blurred and shielded elven princeling follows behind the Justifier, controlling all four spellcasters from Belinswae. Making sure they do as much damage as possible before the elven master assassin kills the wizard Maxime.
A blast spell from the hedge wizard slams into a group of guards loading gear into the back of a small wagon.
The witch curses a group of other guards, sending them running away, screaming and howling in horror.
While the apprentice magic user controls the minds of two experienced guards, and has them attack the squad of pressed guards that they've been reluctantly in charge of for the last month since they've made their way into the Stone Hills.
Panic breaks out amongst the army of the army of Justifier Maxime once the guards realise what's going on,
A large sinkhole appears, fifty feet wide, sending everything and everyone within it, crashing down twenty five feet into the earth, thanks to the spell cast by the wizard, whose army this is,
Helbenthril Raendril has the four spellcasters whose minds he has control over. Cast spell after spell, attacking their own guards.
Illusions of demons rise, so lifelike and tactile, that for brief moments, it seems like they're so real, that many of the guards who face them. Drop dead in fright, or pass out because they can't comprehend what they're actually seeing.
Clouds of birds appear to peck and attack the unprotected eyes and faces of guards. In a place, the Stone Hills, where bird life isn't particularly abundant to begin with.
A large bolt of lightning shoots down from the clear sunny sky, eliciting a peel of thunder after it slams down into the ground amongst a group of guards trying to run away from the chaos and madness around them.
Their bodies are flung about, with more than a few burnt beyond recognition when the bolt of lightning strikes them.
The earth at one end of the valley erupts upwards in an explosion, sending debris flying everywhere, along with about fifty guards who are caught up in the explosion.
A wall of water, eight foot high, and double that in length. Slams into fleeing guards. When the water strikes them, it instantly turns to ice. Which slams into the bodies of the guards it touches. Instantly pulverizing them, turning them into a bloody and pulpy mess.
After the witch is killed by an arrow from a particular brave guard who fights back, though he does go up like a burning wick as the witch kills him in her last moment of life.
Helbe the elven thief kills the wizard Maxime by slamming one of his spike punchers into the back of the Justifier's skull. After the wizard casts a rather large energyball, amongst some of his fleeing guards, creating a rather decent sized explosion.
The elven princeling shifts back up to the hillside he observed the army from earlier. There he continues to control the minds of the two remaining spellcasters. The hedge wizard, and the apprentice magic user. Having them continue to cast spell after spell.
After a while, and seeing that the enemy army. Well those that aren't dead or wounded. Are fleeing en masse. Prince Helbenthril Raendril has the apprentice magic user, who is almost out of power, and needs to recuperate. Set himself on fire, and run amongst some of the fleeing guards, setting them on fire too.
Then the elven magic user kills the last spellcaster, the hedge wizard. By having the older man, blow himself up amongst a group of Justifier's guards who are running away in a panic.
Watching the chaos the elven masterthief has created, Narladene the ground pixie says to him "You know, for someone who has a bit of a lax attitude to life, not to mention other people's possessions, you've got a bit of a nasty streak to you".
"Why thank you, from you that's a compliment" says Helbe the elven thief, as he knows the tiny winged creature who is attached to him, is about the most vindictive individual one is likely to meet. Who has a mean streak a mile wide, figuratively of course.
Narladene grins as they watch the enemy army down in the valley that's in disarray after the Justifier who commands it, turned on it . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 38.

The Stone Hills. Winter...

Tamric Drubine lands the wyvern, and the dwarven warriors with him on it, get down off the large winged creature.
It's the fifth time this morning the nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin in the Southlands has done this.
As he's brought warriors from further west at Išorkam Uñd, to here about half a dozen miles away from the solitary mountain.
Tam watches as the dwarves hurry away across the snow covered ground. He sees that two of them are carrying a barrel. While a third, has one of the dragons that has been recently made.
The son of the former knight of castle Drubine in Sarcrin, hopes for their sake that no enemy spellcaster quickly figures out what's in the barrel, or the dragon. As that will be the end of those three, as well as anyone else around them.
He's just about to head back up, when he spots a group of dwarven warriors, led by Jarka Mard and the mute Omick, hurrying towards him.
"Ho Jarka, what is it?" calls out Tamric Drubine in the dwarven language when he sees the son of the Mard clan chieftain wave out to him.
"Can we be borrowing you and that beastie there for a little while lad?" says Jarka Mard in the common language, as he knows the adolescent from south of the equator is more comfortable speaking that, than he is the dwarven language that he's only recently started learning.
"Sure, no worries" says Tamric Drubine, who truth be told, has found learning dwarven, far more difficult than it did for him to learn the elven language "Hop on up" adds the nobleborn youngster.
"Up there" says Jarka Mard as he gets up onto the back of the wyvern, and sits in the saddle directly behind Tam. The dwarf from clan Mard as he straps himself into the saddle, points to where he wants to go, then he adds "Good place to see what's happening".
Tam nods in agreement as he looks up to the ridgeline that Jarka Mard has pointed out, then once all ten dwarven warriors are strapped in. The Southlander commands the wyvern with "Rise!" followed by "To air!". The large winged creature lifts off from the ground after letting out a loud squawk.
In the morning sky to the west, two more wyverns are approaching the same location, as they too bring more dwarven warriors from Išorkam Uñd.
While in the distance, more wyverns can be seen coming from the mountain that stands by itself in this part of the Stone Hills.
Shouting so that he can be heard over the strong wind they're flying up through, Jarka Mard asks "Seen any of their beasties up this morning?".
"None so far!" is the shouted reply of Tamric Drubine "The lord and his highness must of taken care of them" shouts the son of the Mard clan chief.
"Must of!" shouts the near thirteen year old youngster from south of the equator, who knows that lord Farque and Helbe the elven thief have spent the last two days and nights, hunting any enemy wyverns in and around the Omban clanhold.
Those that they haven't captured, they've killed, along with the enemy guards upon those wyverns.
"All the same, best to keep an eye out, just incase any are still around!" shouts Tam as he looks along the south facing ridgeline, searching for a suitable place to land. He finds one, and has the wyvern come down and land there.
It's three days since the army led by the dwarven clan chief Baedin Kraelin has made their way here to the Omban clanhold.
And now lord Farque has deemed it the right time to attack the enemy here in the Omban clanhold in earnest. When previously the dwarven warriors have be engaged in mainly hit and run attacks against the Justifier's army that has pushed into the lands of clan Omban.
"They've engaged them" says Jarka Mard as they sit upon the back of the wyvern, looking away to the south. Where just over a quarter of a mile away, a battle has got underway.
It's the first large scale battle here in the Omban clanhold since the early morning attack by chief Polm Omban and his army, when the clan chieftain got injured a few weeks ago, when he and his army halted the advance of the enemy.
Across the snow covered rocky ground between hills, an army of more than seven hundred Justifier's guards have been confronted by an army of dwarven warriors. Predominantly from the Omban, Kraelin and Mard clans. Along with a small number of free folk fighters. They're outnumbered by a couple hundred by the Justifier's army, which is just part of a larger force here in the Omban clanhold.
For the army of the wizard Maxime, is the second largest Justifier's army from Belinswae to invade the Stone Hills. Only the army of Justifier Kaellin, further to the east in the Stone Hills, being larger.
"I doubt their Justifier is here with them" says Tamric Drubine as they watch the battle that's just got underway, Jarka Mard nods in agreement with the Southlander who says "Bet he's sent this lot forward to try and wipe out the remnants of the Omban army" Tam continues with "They're going to be in for a surprise when they realise they're fighting more than just the Omban warriors".
The mute Omick taps his chieftain's youngest son upon the shoulder, and points away to the west, Jarka Mard looks that way, then says to the young human sitting infront of him "Lord Farque is flying in".
The nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin south of the equator, looks to the west in the clear, sunny morning sky.
And spots the large, dark, almost iridescent green coloured wyvern that lord Farque has been using, coming in with a squad of dwarven warriors on the back of it with him.
With more wyverns turning up from Išorkam Uñd, so are more warriors. Who are increasing the numbers of those who are facing the enemy from the region of Belinswae this morning here in the Omban clanhold.
"We should head back down" says Tam to Jarka Mard, the dwarf who leads the warriors from his clan, nods in agreement as they have one last look at the battle that's just got underway, from the ridgeline they're on.
The Southlander has the large, winged creature lift off, once it's in the air, it drops down beneath the ridgeline and heads down below.
The wyvern lands on the ground, near the larger, dark green one that the lord and ruler of the lands Farque is upon.
"How does it look?" calls out lord Farque "It's started" calls back Tamric Drubine, the heavily armoured deathlord nods his full helmed head, then he looks back and quietly says something to about half of the warriors with him, who have yet to get down off the wyvern.
"We'll go and harry their mounted guards, and the camp followers and support guards" says the undead warlord, the nobleborn youngster nods in understanding, then looking back at Jarka Mard, he says to the dwarven warrior "You lot want to come along?".
"Might as well" says the youngest son of the Mard clan chieftain who grins, though a little nervously when Tam adds "Well hold on tight, it's going to be a wild ride". The dwarven warriors from clan Mard strap themselves in even tighter.
Then the son of the former knight of castle Drubine in the Southland kingdom of Sarcrin has the wyvern lift off after the larger, dark green one that lord Farque is flying.
Behind them, two more wyverns are coming in. They're being flown by dwarves, a number of whom, the deathlord of Farque has taught to fly the large winged creatures.
Tam looks over at other wyvern, and the undead warlord seeing the nobleborn youngster looking his way, lifts his left arm, and gives a couple of hand signals.
Tamric Drubine nods in understanding, and he has the wyvern he's on, circle away to the east as they fly south. While the wyvern lord Farque is flying, starts circling to the west, as they too head south.
As they circle around to come at the enemy from the rear. The adolescent from south of the equator sees that there's maybe seventy to eighty mounted Justifier's guards. They're behind those on foot. And just infront of the camp followers and support guards. Who have only small wagons and carts.
As the terrain around here is unsuitable for horses. Ever since the track, one could almost call it a road. That's further to the west, and south of Išorkam Uñd, has been blocked.
When Tam created an avalanche with blast powder, in the canyons the rugged track goes through.
The nobleborn youngster suspects that this part of the wizard Maxime's much larger army. Are those that Helbe the elven thief had a trio of trolls attack at the beginning of last week.
Tamric Drubine who briefly wonders where the elven princeling is this morning, as he took off in the middle of the night to do something.
Has the wyvern he's flying dive down at the enemy. As the large winged creature swoops down, Tam shouts to the dwarves sitting behind him "Hold on, and 'ware bolts and arrows!".
The wyvern, which over a week ago, was flying for the Justifier's army below. Let's out a squawk, as it comes in low, there's a slight thump, then the wyvern is lifting back up into the late morning sky.
Between it's front claws is a horse, and a Justifier's guard. The guard from Belinswae is screaming in agony, as one of the claws has gone through his left thigh, and into his horse.
Then the wyvern drops them when it gets a couple of hundred feet off the ground.
The guard continues to scream as he and his mount that he's clinging onto, plummet to the ground. Until they smash into a pair of mounted guards below. Killing them as they hit them, then the ground at speed.
Horses below panic, with some running into the guards on foot infront of them, while others take off in all directions. Which isn't wise on such rocky ground, that's covered in snow.
The Stone Hills isn't usually so snowy unless it's higher up in the peaks. But there's been constant snowfall over the last week and half at nighttime, here in this part of the Omban clanhold.
The following days, like today. Are usually clear and sunny, though cold, and windy, as it usually is in the winter here in the Stone Hills.
Tamric Drubine has the wyvern circle back around to the east, and south again. As it turns, he looks away to the left, and spots the larger, darker, iridescent green wyvern.
In it's front right claw, is a man that's been skewered right through by the four foot long black claws.
Tam sees that he's not a guard, and as the wyvern lord Farque is flying, flings away the dead man. The nobleborn youngster realises he must of been a spellcaster in the army of Justifier Maxime.
The son of the former knight of castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin calls out his warning again to the dwarven warriors sitting behind him.
He briefly smiles as he hears a few of them shout swear words in their own language. Then the wyvern is diving down at the enemy again.
This time the wyvern grabs a horse, and lifts it up and out of the traces off the small wagon that it's hauling.
The squawking wyvern flings away the screaming horse, which goes flying sideways before it drops down to the ground, and lands with a splat amongst some guards on foot, killing a few of them.
Tam nods his head, when Jarka Mard taps him on the shoulder and points to the west. The Southlander spots another wyvern approaching, and after a few moments, he sees that it's Lisell Maera and the large, winged creature that she's been flying.
The orphan teenager, who with Helbenthril Raendril not here at the moment. Is the only other flyer capable enough, and skilled enough, to dive attack the enemy.
Has come to join her fellow Southlanders in harrying the enemy from the region of Belinswae.
Yep, the battle has well and truly begun, Tamric Drubine thinks to himself as the wyvern he's flying circles around again, to dive at the rear of the enemy army once more.
There's a rather joyful looking grin upon the face of the nobleborn youngster from south of the equator as the winds buffet them as the wyvern goes into another dive . . . . . .

TYOFT - Author's Note.

Test Post.

You Want A War? You've Got One! 37.

The Stone Hills. Winter...

Lisell Maera looks back and shouts "Hold on!" as she sends the wyvern into a steep dive when she commands it with a yell of "Down hard!".
The small squad of dwarven warriors on the wyvern with the teenage orphan from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands, hold on for their lives.
One of them has already fallen from the back of the wyvern when he wasn't tied in tightly enough as they're pursued by a trio of wyverns in an army of a Justifier of Belinswae.
As the wyvern levels out over a hill as the nearest enemy wyvern is just a couple hundred yards behind them.
The dwarven warrior Kyne who is sitting directly behind Lis, yells to be heard over the strong wind they're flying in "They not be wanting us going north and west lassie!" the leader of the nine, now eight dwarves riding on the back of the captured wyvern adds "Guess there be something that way they dunny want us to see!".
Lisell Maera nods her head in agreement, as she has come to the same conclusion. The trio of enemy wyverns and the riders upon them, are herding them south, just to the west of Išorkam Uñd.
As Lis and the small squad of warriors with her, who have been searching for the location of any enemy squads. Have been trying to go back north into the relative safety in the heart of the Omban clanhold.
"Left wide!" calls out the teenager from south of the equator, who has memorized all the commands to control a tame wyvern. She uses it in conjunction with the rein work lord Farque has also taught her and Tamric Drubine.
As they go left, she looks back at the pursuing wyverns, who put on a burst of speed as they see the wyvern she and the dwarves are on, circling back to the northwest.
"Definitely don't want us going that way" murmurs the daughter of a street whore, and a sailor, who is just glad that there isn't a spellcaster on one of the three following wyverns.
Behind her in the saddle, Lis can hear the dwarven warriors rapidly discussing something in their own language.
Her grasp of the dwarven language isn't good enough to follow what they're saying. Besides, with the wind that they're flying through being so strong, it's difficult for her to hear anything in the common language, let alone the dwarven one.
"Lassie!" says Kyne as he taps the Southlander on the shoulder, she glances back at him as he shouts "Slow the beastie down a bit and have that nearest one get close".
Lis frowns, then says "Why?" the squad leader "Not to worry lassie, trust me, just do it like" Kyne then adds "Get up a bit higher than the following beastie though".
"If you say so" murmurs Lisell Maera as she pulls back on the reins, which illicits a squawk from the wyvern who knows that the trailing wyverns wants to attack it "Ease!" calls out Lis when it doesn't immediately respond to the pull on the reins.
The wyvern starts to slow down, and Kyne says to her "That's it lassie". As the wyvern slows, the teenager from south of the equator has it slightly climb too. As it does, Lisell Maera looks back to see how quickly the nearest pursuer is approaching.
But she's briefly distracted by one of the dwarven warriors. Berm his name is, one of the trio from clan Omban, while the rest of the squad is from clan Kraelin.
Berm has undone his ties, and is standing up on the saddle as he turns. Lis hears the other dwarves call out to him, she recognises the names of the dwarven gods, Thaxel and Dovarn. Along with the words "Be with you".
Then as the rapidly approaching wyvern gets closer to them, Berm takes an axe in one hand, and a hammer one of the other warriors gives him, in his other hand. Then as he shouts "Omban!" Lis realises what it is he's going to do.
Berm runs a few steps, then leaps off the back of the rising wyvern, he falls down towards the pursuing wyvern that's less than fifty feet behind them. He narrowly misses the head of the pursuing wyvern, which briefly thought about snapping it's jaws at the dwarven warrior shouting and hollering as he free falls towards it.
Instead it ducks it's head, and Berm passes just over it's head, and he smashes into the lead rider of the chasing wyvern.
The lead rider screams in a panic as he's knocked off his wyvern. Berm clips the next Justifier's guard, who is knocked out. While the dwarven warrior passes by the next guard, who flattened himself down when he saw the dwarf come hurtling towards them.
The warrior from clan Omban, slams into another Justifier's guard. Which almost stops his fall. Berm goes over the side. And though nearly unconscious, he has whereabouts to know what's still happening, that he swings his axe, that slams into, and gets stuck into a Justifier's leg.
Berm with a shake of his head, crawls upwards, yelling and shouting obscenities in the dwarven language as he swings the hammer he's still holding, trying to hit anything, and anyone as the wyvern drops down out of the sky.
"Fly lassie fly!" yells Kyne as the other warriors shout and yell in encouragement as they watch Berm on the wyvern that's rapidly dropping out of the sky. "Wings!" yells Lisell Maera who then adds "Haste!" as that's the command in common for a wyvern to increase speed.
The tame wyvern that's been captured from the enemy is more than willing to increase speed now that closest pursuer has dropped away.
Lis looks back and down, and she along with the dwarven warriors still on the wyvern with her see Berm is still on the enemy wyvern that's heading quickly down to the ground as there's no one at the reins.
The last they see of him, is when he tackles one of the Justifier's guards on that wyvern after he brains another with the hammer he's got.
Berm and that guard from Belinswae going over the side as the wyvern drops down between a pair of hills.
The remaining dwarves fall silent when they see Berm drop off that wyvern taking one of the enemy with him.
"All the speed the beastie has got lass!" shouts Kyne, who then adds in a normal tone of voice that Lis just picks up "Don't let his loss be for nought now". The teen from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands, who briefly feels tears gather in her eyes, that's not from the strong wind they're flying through. Nods her head in upstanding, as they fly north and west, with just two enemy wyverns in pursuit now.
Though those two large flying creatures are further back, and are dropping further behind. As they saw what just happened, and because the wyvern that Lis and the dwarves are on, has picked up speed again.
As they fly northwards, Kyne who is looking around the human sitting infront of him, frowns as he spots something in the distance, he sticks his arm forward, and shouts "There!".
Lisell Maera looks to where the squad leader is pointing, she frowns as she can't see anything out of the ordinary there. Even on a clear, sunny, cold winter's day here in this part of the Stone Hills.
"What is it?" asks Lis "A battle!" is the reply of Kyne, who then adds "Looks like some lads have run into the enemy!".
As they wyvern heads that way as quickly as possible, the Southlander thinks she spots what Kyne has seen. Though she does definitely see something else, another wyvern near where the battle is, and Lis loudly says to Kyne "Is that one of ours?" as she points at the wyvern in question.
The dwarven squad leader who has spotted it too, is silent for a moment, then he says "Nay lassie, that beastie is one of theirs". "Great" mutters Lisell Maera who then silently adds, two chasing us, and one infront of us, that's all we fucking need.
Just then a fiery orange ball shoots up from the ground "Fireball!" calls out Lis who immediately recognises what it is that's heading up towards the wyvern in the distance.
The warriors in the squad cheer when they see it clip the wyvern in the distance, that's trying to avoid it.
The teenager from south of the equator can see figures falling from that wyvern that's spinning out of control towards the ground with one of it's wings completely destroyed.
"Hight chief Baedin!" shouts Kyne as points down to where Lis can now see a battle, he quickly adds something in the dwarven language that the Southlander doesn't catch.
The dwarven warriors all start yelling and hollering, and waving their arms about "Dunny want the delver down there to attack us by mistake!" the squad leader calls out to the teenage orphan from the city-state of Brattonbury.
"Good idea" murmurs Lisell Maera, who briefly looks back at the pursuing wyverns, and sees that though they're still following, they're not gaining on them.
"Fuck!" exclaims Kyne in the dwarven language, which Lis definitely understands, and she says "What is it?". "The madman" dryly says the squad leader in common, he then adds "That knight friend of yours, Percy".
The Southlander grins, for though sir Percavelle Lé Dic is insufferable, and totally annoying to be around. She's missed him since she's been here in this part of the Stone Hills, in and around the Omban clanhold.
Lisell Maera has the wyvern drop down in altitude while the dwarven warriors behind her continue to yell and shout, and wave their arms about.
As they do, another fireball comes up from the ground. This time in their direction, though it's going to go wide of them by a good few hundred feet. Lis nods as she sees it's going to go towards the pair of enemy wyverns chasing them.
The teenager who was brought up on the streets in the poorer neighbourhoods in the city of Brattonbury in the Southlands, has the wyvern come around and land behind what looks to be the dying stages of a battle.
A larger force of dwarven warriors, and one large, heavily armoured human knight from the Southlands, have all but wiped out a smaller force of Justifiers guards.
Lis sees another wyvern lying nearby. Dead with a large hole through it's chest. She has the wyvern she's flying, land far away from that dead wyvern.
As the large flying creature touches down with a bit of a thump, there's a clap of thunder in the sky to the south. The Southlander looks back that way in the clear, sunny, early afternoon sky, and spots the two enemy wyverns that were chasing them.
One is dropping out of the sky like a stone. It's a charred ruins, barely recognisable as a wyvern. While the other is spinning uncontrollably as it too falls out of the sky. The Justifiers guards on it are being flung from the saddle as they try to hold onto the falling wyvern.
"Hell" mutters Kyne, Lis looks at him, then she looks to where he's looking, and sees a group of dwarven warriors, who are waving to them, as the warriors on the wyvern call out to them.
"It's that she pig Fomar" quietly says the squad leader, the teenage orphan from south of the equator spots a she-dwarf near a rotund dwarf that she recognises as the delver Barmil Kraelin who she has met a handful of times.
The rather portly she-dwarf must be Barmil's wife, who Lis has heard about on occasion. Not in good terms either. For the delver is like any other delver, not particularly good company. As they're reclusive, and dislike being above ground.
Though she's heard nothing bad said about Barmil in particular.
His wife on the other hand, is supposed to be annoying beyond frustration.
Wonder how she and Percy get along? is Lisell Maera's first thought when she spots the she-dwarf, the Southlander then silently adds in a dry tone, probably the best of friends no doubt.
Lis gets down off the wyvern as does the squad with her as a number of the dwarven warriors rush over to meet them. Wanting to know how they got a wyvern.
The teenager from south of the equator looks over to where the fighting is dying down. And sees that a few of the dwarven warriors are going around killing any of the enemy wounded. While others are finding their own wounded.
As dwarves gather around, Lis hears the warrior Held who she recognises, yell out "Make way!" followed by "Make way for the chief!".
She spots him and chief Baedin Kraelin heading this way. Lisell Maera smiles as she spot sir Percavelle Lé Dic, the heavily armoured knight who has the visor of his full helm up, grins when he spots his fellow Southlander.
Then the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che punches in the gut, the prisoner he's taken. The Justifier's guard who lead the large squad that he and dwarven warriors led by chief Baedin Kraelin have just attacked.
"By Dovarn's hammer, how the hell did you get one of them beasties?" asks the clan chieftain Baedin Kraelin after he yells for everyone to shut up. The clan chief looks at the tame wyvern, who after ruffling it's wings and let out an annoyed squawk, has settled down, and is completely ignoring all the dwarves who are looking at it.
"That's a bit of a long story chief" says the squad leader Kyne who is glad to see his chieftain, and so many of his fellow warriors from clan Kraelin.
"The lass here can tell you" says Kyne gesturing at Lis "You the one flying that thing lass" asks the clan chief who is also a hammermaster "I am" replies Lisell Maera who faintly smiles as she adds "As are others who are flying the other wyverns we've captured".
After a murmur of excitement runs through the gathered warriors, Baedin Kraelin says "I think we need to know what's going on around here" the teenager from south of the equator nods her head in agreement to that . . . . . .

You Want A War? You've Got One! 36.

The Stone Hills. Winter...

"I don't know who's bloody worse" mutters the clan chief Baedin Kraelin "The knight" says old Tharlo, who then adds "Definitely the knight". Beside the old warrior Tharlo, Helnd nods his head in agreement, then he says "Though your cousin and his wife are close chief".
The clan chieftain grunts as they continue the march eastwards to the Omban clanhold.
The three of them are working their way up through the line of march, heading towards the front.
The clan chieftain is sick of walking near his cousin Barmil the delver, and Barmil's wife Fomar. Who are at the rear of the line. For obvious reasons, both are fat, and walk slowly compared to all the warriors.
Baedin Kraelin wants to be as far away from them as possible after spending all morning in their company.
Unfortunately far from them as possible in the line of march, is at the front. Where sir Percavelle Lé Dic walks with the clanless dwarves who follow him everywhere.
The dwarven clan chieftain who also happens to be a hammermaster, wonders how long it will be before the human knight annoys him once he's at the front of the line, he suspects it won't be long.
As he walks forward with Helnd and old Tharlo, the clan chief acknowledges the warriors who say his name, or call him chief as he passes. He does so with a nod of his head, or a quiet word, as they walk along a bare, rocky looking hilltop.
In the distance to the southeast, is the lonely mountain Išorkam Uñd.
They're heading further north of the isolated peak, into the heart of the Omban clanhold.
Baedin Kraelin is with three hundred of his clan's warriors, plus the clanless with sir Percavelle. They've been joined by a hundred warriors from clan Mard, whose clanhold they skirted the south of when they left the Kraelin clanhold after they finished pushing south to find any of the enemy who survived the battle of the redoubt a few weeks ago.
As the three of them walk forward, the dwarven hammermaster suddenly grins, old Tharlo seeing this, quietly asks his chieftain "Something funny chief?".
"Aye there is Tharlo my old friend" says the chief of clan Kraelin who continues with "Just thinking about that bloody madman and Fomar". Both Helnd and Tharlo grin too, with the old warrior chuckling as well.
Seems the she-dwarf Fomar is absolutely besotted to the large human knight, she thinks he's just the best. Much to the annoyance of her husband, the dwarven delver Barmil.
It doesn't help that the nobleman from south of the equator plays it up, being complementary to the she-dwarf, treating her like a lady of the court in his homeland of Druvic in the Southlands.
Though in the opinion of the clan chieftain, the large, heavily armoured knight is basically putting Fomar down the same time he compliments her.
He often refers to the only she-dwarf in the line of march, as my plump little sugar blossom. Her weight is often referred to in his compliments of her.
Baedin Kraelin almost burst out laughing when sir Percavelle addressed Fomar as his porky princess of the short folk.
Old Tharlo did burst out laughing at that, though he did so while he was hurrying away on some imagined task.
As for the she-dwarf herself, she's absolutely loving the attention from the human knight, who with the exception of herself, all the dwarves refer to him as the madman.
Not so much Barmil Kraelin, who with each passing day, dislikes the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che more and more. When before he was just indifferent to the heavily armoured knight from the Southlands.
The only saving grace the dwarven delver has, is that though his wife would like to be around the earl of Lé Dic all the time. They're just too fat and slow to keep up with the rear of the line of march. Let alone the front where sir Percavelle walks with the clanless.
The only time Baedin Kraelin gets any respite from either his cousin and wife, or the human knight. Is at times like now, where he's walking to and from either end of the line of march.
Or when he's stopped and giving orders for things to be done.
As they top the crest of the hill, and the strong wind buffets them for a bit this clear winter's day, before they start going down the northeast side of the rocky hill, that offers them a little bit of shelter from the wind.
He says to Tharlo and Helnd "Well at least they're good for something" the clan chieftain then adds "Even that she porker Fomar". For they know if the she-dwarf wasn't along, then Barmil wouldn't be with them.
And no matter how annoying the dwarven hammermaster finds his cousin the delver, he needs him along. As he's the most powerful spellcaster in the clan. And he's needed against the enemy, the Justifiers of Belinswae and their armies.
As they're going down the hill, the three of them who are walking quickly, get closer to the front of the line of march, as they do, the clan chieftain spots one of the forward scouts hurrying back uphill.
"Something's happened" quietly says the dwarven hammermaster "Aye chief" says Helnd, who along with old Tharlo, hurry down to the very front of the line of march.
"Make way!" calls out Helnd, warriors part for their chieftain, the clanless at the front of the line get out of the way too.
The Kraelin clan chieftain gestures to one side when the near breathless scout reaches them, the hammermaster, along with Helnd and old Tharlo move away with the scout.
"Take your time lad" says Baedin Kraelin, who then adds "Get your breath back". "Aye chief" says the scout, who takes a few moments to compose himself.
As he does the clan chieftain glances over at sir Percavelle Lé Dic who is standing off to one side as the line of march has come to a stop when the dwarven hammermaster tells Helnd to call a stop.
The clan chief sees that the human knight from south of the equator is watching with interest, even though he's unable to understand the dwarven language.
Seeing that the scout has got his breath back, Baedin Kraelin asks him "What is it lad?". "Chief it's the enemy" replies the scout, who waves down the hill, and to the next one along, that actually has trees on it, though the trees are all wind swept, not to mention short and scrubby.
"They be on the otherside of that hill there chief" says the scout "They're to the east, on a track heading north, about fifty of them, the other lads out front are watching them".
"Must be part of a larger force somewhere" quietly says the hammermaster Kraelin "Aye chief" says old Tharlo, who continues with "Must be sending out larger squads to find ways into the heart of the Omban clanhold".
"Aye" adds Helnd, while Baedin Kraelin looks up into the clear sky of the late morning, and says "Pass the word to keep a careful watch for any of those damn wyverns they fly" the clan chieftain then says to Helnd "Give the order for a quick march".
"Aye chief" says Helnd "Lead the way lad" says the dwarven hammermaster to the scout, who turns and starts off downhill as Helnd calls out to resume the march, this time quicker than they have been marching so far this morning.
As Baedin Kraelin and Tharlo hurry downhill after the scout, the old warrior asks his chieftain "What be your plan chief?".
Just then, the dwarven hammermaster's plan goes striding by them. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic with his much longer stride, and his complete disregard for his own safety. Runs down the rocky hill at a breakneck pace. Only slowing down when he gets right behind the scout who is leading the way.
"Well we've got a madman" says the Kraelin clan chief, who continues with "He can lead the attack against them" the dwarven hammermaster then adds "We've got to wipe them out, and not let any of them get away and return to their army with word about us".
Old Tharlo nods his head in agreement, as what his chieftain has said is the prudent thing to do. And the fact that they can't let the enemy further into the Omban clanhold. As they've come this way, west of Išorkam Uñd, which is a stronghold in the lands of clan Omban.
It's just after midday when they get amongst the short, scrubby, wind swept trees on the next hill along.
They join a few of the other scouts, and they spot the enemy on a track about quarter of a mile away to the east.
One of the forward scouts informs his clan chief that the squad of enemy guards have just had a stop for the midday meal, and now they're on the move again.
The Justifiers guards are all on foot, which is the prudent thing to do. As footing here, even on a trail, is dangerous for mounts. Mountain ponies might be able to deal with the terrain in this part of the Stone Hills. But not the horses that some of the Justifiers guards from Belinswae ride.
Baedin Kraelin glances over at sir Percavelle, who he's persuaded to get low and get out of sight, and stay here amongst the short, scrubby trees. And not run off and attack the enemy all by himself.
The Kraelin clan chieftain wants the heavily armoured knight to lead the attack against the squad of Justifiers guards, just not before the dwarven hammermaster observes the enemy for a bit.
Baedin Kraelin is just about to tell Helnd to pick out some of the warriors to accompany sir Percavelle and the clanless who fight alongside him. When he frowns as he notices something.
The clan chief who is crouching down beside a tree that's almost bent over to one side, quietly says "Wait a moment". Old Tharlo looks at the hammermaster and quietly asks him "What is it chief?".
"They're not foot soldiers" quietly says the clan chieftain who then adds "They're wearing long cloaks and high boots". "Their armour is light too" adds Helnd who notices something else, then says "Those with shields, have got the small, round ones".
The Justifiers guards they've faced who have actually had shields, have either had the larger round ones, or the rectangular long shields. Then it's only the better equipped, experienced guards who do so. Not those who have been pressed into service.
"Their weapons look pretty good" murmurs old Tharlo, who then adds "Well kept and maintained" Baedin Kraelin nods his head, then realises something.
"They be fliers" says the Kraelin clan chief, he continues with "They've most likely been dropped off somewhere to the south, and told to head further north into the Omban clanhold".
He looks away to the south, across the hills and at the mountains, then he quietly says to Helnd and old Tharlo "What's a bet they're being watched?".
"You think?" says Helnd as he and old Tharlo look south, trying to locate any hidden wyverns that are on the ground. "I do" says the clan chieftain, who continues with "If they got one of those eyepieces that humans need to see long distances, or a spellcrafter about, they will definitely be observing this lot".
"A trap?" asks old Tharlo, who continues with "To draw us or any of the Omban lads out?". "Could very well be" says Baedin Kraelin, who then tells Helnd "Spread the word, have everyone look for any those beasties that are grounded" he pauses for a moment as he thinks about something, then he adds "And have that lump of a cousin of mine get up here".
"Aye chief" says the warrior Helnd, and as he moves off, the clan chieftain says in the common language "Percy lad, come over here". The heavily armoured knight mutters to himself as he basically has to crawl to keep low, as he makes his way over to where Baedin Kraelin and old Tharlo are. The clanless warriors Marl and Lommy follow him.
Sitting down next to the Kraelin clan chief, sir Percavelle Lé Dic lifts up the visor of his full helm and says "Pray tell what are we waiting for" the heavily armoured knight from the kingdom of Druvic in the Southlands adds "Myself and just a few of you short fellows should be able to deal with this rabble down yonder".
"No doubt" dryly murmurs old Tharlo in dwarven, Baedin Kraelin says to the human knight "Notice anything about these guards Percy?" followed by "Look at them closely".
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che frowns, then squints as he looks to where the enemy are in the distance. And after a moment, he says "Hmmm these villains don't seem to be foot soldiers, have the look of light calvary to me".
"Aye they're riders alright" says the dwarven hammermaster Baedin Kraelin, who continues with "But they don't ride horses, they ride those wyvern beasties".
The earl of Lé Dic in the kingdom of Druvic, looks up into the sky, then at the surrounding hills and mountains, especially to the south. He then says "Do you see any of those foul creatures about?" the human knight from south of the equator then adds "Me thinks this could be a trap to lure you short fellows out".
Baedin Kraelin knows that for all that sir Percavelle is a foolhardy idiot. He is extremely smart when it comes to battle and tactics. And is quick to perceive what's happening. Though this still won't stop him from doing something completely dangerous.
"Aye you got the right of it Percy lad" says the clan chieftain who then adds "It could very well be a trap" he gestures towards the Justifiers guards and adds "They're not exactly walking fast for all that they're in enemy territory" the heavily armoured knight nods in agreement.
Just then Helnd returns, followed by Barmil Kraelin, the dwarven delver is breathing heavily as he trudges towards his cousin Baedin.
"My stout friend, you look a bit lost for breath there" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic to the dwarven spellcaster, the Southlander continues with "One suggests one should shed a few pounds, then one wouldn't wheeze and whistle like a faulty bellows so much".
After insulting the dwarven delver, the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che grins as he adds "Now where is that lovely, but oh so stout maiden who you're married to" sir Percavelle with the grin wide upon his face, adds "She's as beautiful as she is wide, and she is very beautiful after all".
The delver directs a sour look at the human knight, then Barmil Kraelin asks his cousin Baedin in dwarven  "What's happening?". The clan chieftain waves in the direction of the enemy, and explains to him what's happening, and what he thinks.
The dwarven spellcaster nods in understanding, then he looks around at the nearby hills and mountains, looking further away as he casts a spell.
"They're being watched" says Barmil Kraelin, who points to the south and east, and adds "Up that mountain, there's a cave, a pair of wyverns are there with their lead riders and others" he points to a hilltop to the left of that mountain and continues with "There's a spellcaster on the otherside of that hill, must be with another wyvern or wyverns".
"A Justifier?" asks the older of the two cousins "Don't think so, they tend to be more powerful" replies Barmil Kraelin, who then adds "A hedge wizard, or an apprentice sorcerer most like".
"A trap then" quietly says Baedin Kraelin "Aye cousin" is what the dwarven delver tells him, he continues with "We haven't been spotted yet, this tree cover is keeping us out of sight for the moment". The clan chieftain is silent for a few moments, then he says "Ah well, might as well set off this trap like".
Then he tells both his cousin Barmil, and the warrior Helnd what he wants done.
As Helnd moves off to give out orders, the dwarven hammermaster switches to the common language and says to the heavily armoured knight sitting close by "Percy lad, there's something i want you to do". "Oh?" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic "I want you to attack that lot down there" says Baedin Kraelin who then adds "Though after i have some of the lads do so".
The Kraelin clan chieftain says "This is how i want it done" the hammermaster Kraelin then explains his plan for attacking the squad of fifty or so Justifiers guards just a quarter mile to the east of them . . . . . .