The Nomads Plains. Winter...
"Are you sure?" asks lord Walashàele "Yes I'm pretty sure?" says Riley Hait the mercenary ranger in reply to the elven lord who is standing next to him as they look at the army that's making it's way across the Nomad's Plains.
The most powerful lord in southern Maladimbáh, is about to say something else, when he looks away to their right, where something catches his eye.
"What the hell is it doing?" asks the elven lord who has designs upon the throne of his homeland "Huh?" says the mercenary ranger from south of the equator, who looks away to his right and sourly smiles at what he sees.
"Oh" says the ranger Hait, who after a pause adds "Well, what does it look like it's doing?". "Looks like it's taking a shit" mutters the head of house Walashàele, the mercenary from the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands nods, then says "Then that's what it's doing".
Standing thirty yards away to the right, Dorc da Orc, with his grubby knee length pants down around his ankles, is taking a shit. The large ork hasn't bothered to squat, he's basically standing upright, slightly bent forward, with a look of pure bliss upon his bestial looking face, as he sprays shit from his rather large ass.
The ork warleader couldn't care less that he's in full view of everyone. Including an army just a couple hundred yards away.
Lord Walashàele mutters something in the noble elven language that Riley Hait doesn't understand, then switching back to the regular elven language, he says to the mercenary ranger from the Southlands "That" he briefly pauses, before adding "Is bloody disgusting".
"Tell me about it" dryly says the ranger Hait, who then carries on with "You get used to it" he momentarily pauses, before continuing with "Kind of".
"I bloody well hope not" mutters lord Walashàele, who looks away from the defecating ork weaponsmith, and gestures to the army from Maladimbáh that he commands "For your sakes, i hope you're right about this" says the elven lord who continues with "By the forest gods there's no way I'm having them march across the entire damn plains to get to Belinswae".
"You won't have to" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who then looks over at Dorc da Orc, who calls out "That fucken birdy cat is coming back" as he hurriedly pulls up his pants after finishing shitting.
The mercenary ranger and the elven lord look southwest, and though the ranger Hait can't see anything in the clear, cloudless morning sky in that direction, lord Walashàele can.
"It has extremely good eyesight" murmurs the nobleborn elf "About the same as yours" quietly says the human ranger who was raised and trained by the elven warders of Envadarlen, he then adds "If you would refer to him as he, or Dorc, or even that big fucking green idiot, instead of as it, I'd appreciate it".
The mercenary ranger, who in actual fact is a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, couldn't care less at how lord Walashàele refers to Dorkindle when they talk about him in the elven language, which of course the large ork can't understand.
Does care that the head of house Walashàele, and the others in his army. Don't call the ork warleader, it. When they're speaking the common language. The ranger Hait is hoping the elven lord from southern Maladimbáh, gets it in his head to call Dorc by name.
For if the big ork from the wolf tribe of orks overhears in common, lord Walashàele or any of the others in his army, call him, it. He might take offence. Which is easy enough to happen. As a lot of things offend the large ork.
Such as the sun, that's shining down brightly, this relatively warm winter's morning on the dry, arid plains where the barbarian nomads make their home.
The warleader of the ork race is glaring up at the sun, and growling something at it, in his totally incomprehensible native language.
The mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands, suspect the large ork is threatening to kill the sun, or some such thing.
"Right, I'll remember that" says lord Walashàele who continues to look at the approaching griffon that his daughter Jalindílth is on. His own griffon is flying around to the north of the army. Probably chasing something to eat this morning, which is sunny and clear, after a cold night.
The dry, arid plains get surprisingly cold at night during the wintertime. The two previous mornings, the army has awoken to frost upon the rocky ground. Frost that melts quickly in the warmth of the days found here on the Nomad's Plains.
They walk back towards the army, as they do, the daughter of lord Walashàele comes into land. Her griffon settles down, and she hops down off the large winged creature, and she makes her way over to where her father and the mercenary ranger from south of the equator stand. Dorc da Orc sits down nearby, where he takes something from one of his burlap sacks, and starts chewing upon it.
As he eats, the large ork eye's the nearby griffon that's watching the passing army from southern Maladimbáh.
"They're there" says Jalindílth Walashàele who continues with "A few hundred of them". "Is that all?" murmurs the elven lord "Most of them will be going overland to the border region with Belinswae" explains the ranger Hait.
The head of the noble house of Walashàele nods, then asks his daughter "Did you see it?" followed by "And how far away is it?". "I did" replies the attractive elven maid, who continues with "And they, along with it are about eight to nine miles away" then briefly switching to the language of the elven nobility, she adds "You can't sense it".
"Oh?" says lord Walashàele, his daughter nods, and he glances at his left shoulder at Palamarc the ground pixie, who whispers to him "You can't, but i can".
The elven lord nods in understanding, then he says in the regular elven language to the mercenary ranger from south of the equator "It is in working order isn't it?".
"It is" replies Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson, who continues with "From what i understand, you have to power it up, to get it to function".
"Ah" murmurs the head of house Walashàele, who then quietly adds "One of those" he then asks the ranger Hait "And how far does it go?".
The Southlander shrugs his shoulders, then says "I have no idea" he continues with "But i know the otherside is just over a hundred miles or so from Belinswae". "And that one?" asks lord Walashàele "It goes right into Belinswae" answers Riley Hait, who then adds "You come out less than six miles from the city of Falnic itself".
"Hell" says the elven lord, who shakes his head, then adds "I can't believe the townsmen in Belinswae don't use them to raid here on the plains".
"From what i understand, they don't know of their existence" says the mercenary ranger who continues with "We happened upon them by accident" Riley Hait then adds "And it seems that spellcasters are unable to sense them".
The nobleborn father and daughter share a look, then the elven lord says to the human ranger who was brought up and trained by elves "The nomads must of stumbled upon them over the years".
"They have" says the mercenary ranger who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, he continues with "Their spirit walkers deem them a sacred site, that's why most of them are going overland" he pauses for a moment, before adding "And the fact they've never got them to work".
The elven lord lifts an eyebrow at that. For he as a southern lord of Maladimbáh, has meet plenty of nomad spellcasters, more commonly referred to as spirit walkers, over the years. Some of whom have been fairly powerful. And they should be able to get them to work.
"And one of us will get them to work?" asks the head of house Walashàele, the ranger Hait nods his head, then says "Yes" he then adds "And rather easily too" he holds up a hand to halt any further questions on the matter, and he says "You'll see why, when we get there".
The elven lord refrains from asking anymore questions about it, and instead waves over a few of his officers, including his cousin Galacithàné who is his second in command. The head of house Walashàele has some orders for them.
Riley Hait remounts his horse, and gets underway again, the mercenary ranger is joined by Dorkindle, who walks off to one side of his mount. Who isn't exactly used to such a large green, smelly creature, who spends a lot of his time eyeing it up with evil intent. The horse knows Dorc wants to do something to it. What, it's not exactly sure. It just knows that it's bad.
The ranger Hait rides at the front of the elven mercenaries he and the ork warleader hired in southern Maladimbáh. They number just over a hundred, and make up a small portion of the elven army led by lord Walashàele.
Though the elven mercenaries are under the direct command of Riley Hait and Dorc da Orc. Who have also hired the elven lord and his army. Which they intend to have, not just invade Belinswae, but directly attack the coastal city of Falnic.
Infact they intend to forgo the invasion part, and get straight to attacking the largest city in the region of Belinswae.
It's just after midday, when Dorkindle is loudly grumbling about the bright sunlight, when they encounter the first of the nomad tribesmen near their destination. The ranger Hait talks to them for a bit, and they lead the elven army to where they want to go.
A short time later, and in a shallow, but wide ravine. Just down from what the plains barbarians call a stretch of long sand. They come across what they're looking for.
Lord Walashàele, along with his daughter Jalindílth, his cousin Galacithàné, and a couple of officers. Join the two from south of the equator, as they make their way down into the ravine with a handful of the nomad tribesmen.
While the army form the principality of Maladimbáh remains up above, where the army of nomad barbarians have their camp.
"Your brother the far hunter?" asks Riley Hait "He's at the other site" says Chanük the tribal leader, who has a fair grasp of the common language "Saladén left near two weeks ago, he's there with the bulk of the tribes" adds the nomad tribal leader who is leading the way around a large rocky mound in the middle of the ravine.
Lord Walashàele who is walking beside the Southlander and the short nomad tribesmen, is just about to ask something, when they get around the otherside of the large rocky mound, and he stops in his tracks when he sees what's infront of them.
His cousin Galacithàné who is walking right behind him, mutters "Shit" when he almost walks into the back of his older cousin. Then Galacithàné exclaims "Shit!" when he sees what has brought his cousin up short.
The elves all share a look, as they look at the marble and stone ruins. Clearly elven made, in the middle of which is a large door like frame, that's a magical portal. Which at the moment is off.
"I see what you mean" says lord Walashàele to the ranger Hait after a few moments of stunned silence, then switching to the elven language, he asks the mercenary from south of the equator "And the other end?" he then adds "Is that elven made too?". "A mix" says Riley Hait in the same language, who continues with "It's both dwarven and elven" he then adds "And the one near Falnic in Belinswae, is dwarven, elven and human".
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman gestures to the portal, and says "I assume you can get it going quite easily?" he then adds "It just needs power".
The elven lord nods his head as he looks at the ancient elven runes around the frame of the portal, then he says "Yes, fairly easy" then after glancing at his daughter, and his cousin, and the officers with them, he quietly says "Why the hell didn't we know about these?".
As there's nothing in their recorded history about the portals, that go across the Nomad's Plains, into both Belinswae and their homeland, the principality of Maladimbáh.
"Best guest that they were from the time when the nomads and the townsmen were one people" says Riley Hait, lord Walashàele lifts an eyebrow, then he says "You figured that bit out eh?". "Not that difficult really" says the Southlander, who continues with "Hell, they still look similar".
The elven lord nods his head in agreement, then he says "Not that they know" he pauses for a moment, before he continues with "Well, they don't want to know is more like it" he then adds in a murmur "And they're still trying to wipe one another out".
"You mean the townsmen are trying to wipe out the nomads" says the mercenary ranger, the nobleborn elf snorts, then says "Now they are" he continues with "Wasn't always like that, in my grandfather's time, it was the other way around" lord Walashàele adds "Nearly two thousand years ago, the nomads were doing their best to wipe out the townsmen from the pages of history".
The ranger Hait is silent for a few moments after hearing that, then switching to the common language, he says "It'll take a while to get everyone through" he gestures to the portal and adds "If you would like to begin".
The head of house Walashàele nods, then after giving an order to his officers, one of whom hurries back up to the waiting army. Lord Walashàele turns to the tribal leader Chanük and says to him perfectly in the dialect of the Plain's nomads, the same language spoken by the hordes barbarians of the southern tundra "If you could have your nomad warriors ready to depart, as I'll have the portal working soon".
Riley Hait lifts an eyebrow in surprise at hearing the elven lord speak that language, then he watches as lord Walashàele approaches the ruins and the portal, to study the runes on it, to see which one activates it.
Next to the mercenary ranger, the ork warleader grunts, then Dorc da Orc says "Bout fucken time" as the head of house Walashàele pours power into the portal to activate it . . . . . .
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