The Stone Hills. Winter...
"Damn flying demon" loudly mutters sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he stares at the wyvern he's infront of, the heavily armoured knight looks around then loudly declares "I've changed my mind and decided to ride all the way to that city" the earl of Lé Dic from the kingdom of Druvic, continues with "I shall find myself a trusty steed, with four legs and hooves that shall carry me there quicker than one would think".
"Get on the wyvern Percavelle" says lord Farque from near the next wyvern along, the undead warlord then tells the nobleborn knight "If not I'll hog tie you, and have it carry you in it's claws".
"Saint Mar-che" mutters the knight from the Southlands "It'll be fine Percy" says Tamric Drubine as he walks up, the heavily armoured knight sourly smiles, then shuts the visor of his helm with a clang, and climbs up on the back of the wyvern as if he's being hauled to the executioners block.
Tam grins and scampers up onto the back of the wyvern, followed by the dwarves who are flying with him and sir Percavelle this morning.
Nearby, the wyvern that Lisell Maera is the lead rider on, lifts off with the dwarves with her. The wyvern that Helbe the elven thief is the lead rider on is already in the sky flying south.
Other wyverns are taking off too, as all the captured wyverns that they've taken from various Justifiers armies, take as many dwarven warriors as possible south.
Lord Farque looks around once he's airborne, there's just over thirty captured wyverns, either in the sky or lifting off, each carrying about a dozen to fifteen warriors. The four hundred or so dwarves are heading south, out of the Stone Hills, to the region of Belinswae.
The heavily armoured deathlord looks away to the west, where on such a clear winter's morning, he gets a good view of the remnants of Justifier Maxime's army, that's been constantly harassed by the warriors of various clans as they continue south out of the foothills.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then looks away to the east, in the direction of Yalkin clanhold. He looks to the south of there, and in the distance where the foothills eventually taper away, he spots the army of Justifier Kaellin on the march south.
Even though they're thirty miles away to the southeast, the deathlord of Farque can see that the army of the Justifier whose idea it was to invade the Stone Hills in the first place. Is fairly disciplined for first thing in the morning, on what's a clear, but cold and windy day here in the mountains and foothills that are home to the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills.
The lord of the death realm knows that the mage Kaellin isn't with his army at the moment. And has gone away to the south by way of rift. The undead warlord figures that Justifier Kaellin is already in the city of Falnic by now, probably getting there late yesterday afternoon or early evening.
Lord Farque looks back to one of the following wyverns, and slightly shakes his full helmed head when he spots sir Percavelle Lé Dic clinging onto the back and saddle of the wyvern that Tamric Drubine is the lead rider of.
The heavily armoured deathlord can clearly hear the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic loudly complaining to the nobleborn youngster infront of him about the way he's flying the damn winged demon.
Lord Farque gives Tam the hand signal for a dive, the former heir to castle Drubine obliges. And puts the wyvern he's flying, into a dive. Making it spin as it does so. The nobleborn youngster from south of the equator who called out in the dwarven language to hold on. Grins as behind him, sir Percavelle starts yelling and shouting even louder than he previously was as he held on for dear life.
Tamric Drubine never knew the earl of Lé Dic could swear so much. As the wyvern rapidly drops in altitude in a spinning dive. The nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin quietly chuckles to himself as behind him sir Percavelle continues to swear and yell, mostly about the parentage of the wyvern, and anyone stupid enough to fly them. Tam has never heard the heavily armoured knight say the word fuck so many times so quickly.
Further up in the sky, and further ahead, lord Farque has the wyvern he's on, put on a bit of speed. The large winged creature increases in speed by having a higher wing beat.
It's wings snap out straight once it goes between two of the other wyverns. One of which, Jarka Mard is the lead rider of.
The youngest son of the Mard clan chieftain waves as lord Farque and the wyvern he's on, soars by. The undead warlord lifts a gauntleted hand in return as the wyvern he's on continues it's way forward.
The lord of the death realm looks away to the west, where about five hundred yards away, is Lisell Maera and the wyvern she's the lead rider of.
With the orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury is a number of dwarves from clan Kraelin. Including the delver Barmil and his wife Fomar. The two rather chunky dwarves look decidedly sick as they sit, strapped into the saddle. Sitting further behind the pair is Barmil's cousin, Baedin Kraelin the Kraelin clan chieftain.
The undead warlord spots Karne the axe thrower, sitting directly behind the husband and wife. The large dwarven warrior has a wide grin upon his bearded face as he looks at the two overweight dwarves sitting infront of him who are turning pale in the face as they try not to throw up their breakfast.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque has the wyvern pick up speed again, to catch up to the wyvern that's out infront of all the others, leading the pack south over the mountains and foothills.
It's not long before the wyvern that the heavily armoured deathlord is on, comes alongside the large winged creature that's out leading the way.
Helbe the elven thief looks over at the other wyvern that the lord of the death realm is on. The young elven noble from the principality of Laerel casts a spell.
"What is it?" asks Helbe the elven thief who speaks in the royal elven language for lord Farque's ears only.
"When we stop for the midday meal, i want you to head east for a bit and check on their other armies who could be heading south too" says the undead being who is also known as Draugadrottin by the people of his lands, the undead warlord who is also speaking the royal elven language, for prince Helbenthril Raendril's ears only thanks to the spell cast by the elven magic user, then adds "They could be withdrawing en masse now that they know Belinswae and the city of Falnic is under threat from elsewhere".
The elven masterthief who has also seen the army of Justifier Kaellin in the distance to the southeast making it's way out of the foothills, nods his hooded head in understanding.
The elven princeling then tells the heavily armoured deathlord on the wyvern to the left "With the way that mage Kaellin took off yesterday, i wouldn't be surprised that they're withdrawing across the entire range".
"Hopefully" says lord Farque, who then dryly adds "After all that was the fucking plan" on the other wyvern, the elven master assassin chuckles for though it's taken some time, the undead warlord's plan of driving the larger armies of the Justifiers of Belinswae out of the Stone Hills, it seems to be working.
They stop just after a midday with little that happened during the morning. Only seeing a pair of wyverns away to the west, who were also heading south. They belonged to another of Justifier's who is withdrawing from the Stone Hills, as word of the threat to Belinswae and the city of Falnic in particular, continues to spread.
Helbe the elven thief after a quick bite to eat, heads off to the southeast with only Narladene the ground pixie for company.
Those dwarves who were on the wyvern with him during the morning, are dispersed amongst the other wyverns that have the least amount of dwarven warriors on them.
After the meal, the flight of wyverns who have stopped on a serious of hills. Lift off, and continue on their way southwards to Belinswae.
One of the last winged creatures to get in the air again is the one that Tamric Drubine is the lead rider on. For the simple reason that sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who until this morning refused to go on one of the captured wyverns. Refuses to get on this one, for the rest of the day. He'd rather walk all the way into Belinswae and the two hundred miles or so to the city of Falnic, than fly on a wyvern again.
The heavily armoured knight only scrambles onto the back of the wyvern when Tam points out lord Farque circling back after taking off, when he notices that they've yet to lift off.
The earl of Lé Dic from the kingdom of Druvic in the Southlands would rather hang on for dear life on the back of the wyvern. Than be trussed up like an animal for slaughter, and carried in the front claws of the wyvern as they continue on their way southwards to Belinswae.
Once all the wyverns are in the early afternoon sky, the lord of the death realm looks away to the southeast. He spots the wyvern Helbe the elven thief is on in the distance. The elven magic user and the wyvern he's flying are already about ten miles away, and getting further away to the east.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril reaches the road that the bulk of the army of Justifier Kaellin will come down later today. As he flies above it, the elven magic user casts a few spells down onto the road, hiding them from other spellcasters, knowing that the mage Kaellin will of left a few of his spellcasters behind with the bulk of his army.
The young elven noble from south of the equator tightly grins as the spells will delay the army that attacked deep into the Yalkin clanhold. Taking a number of the prosperous mines within the clanhold, until they started withdrawing after finding out what's happening in Belinswae, and the threat to the city of Falnic.
The elven master assassin, who has Narladene the ground pixie on his right shoulder, continues on his way to the east and south.
After mid afternoon, the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel in the Southlands, spots another army of a Justifier. One Justifier Mangin by his best guess. Who are away to the northeast of where he is when he spots them.
As he has the wyvern circle, wishing that he was flying upon a griffon that elven nobles usually fly upon. He sees that the enemy army about ten miles away to the northeast, are heading south, winding their way through the foothills, on their way back to Belinswae.
The elven princeling from south of the equator continues on his way, heading more directly eastwards than southwards.
By the time he eventually turns back to the west late in the afternoon. The elven masterthief spots another Justifier's army away to the east. This one doesn't seem to of pushed too far north into the mountains this winter. But it too is heading back south through the foothills towards Belinswae.
The young elven noble flies southwest late into the evening, and eventually, with the help of Narladene, who can sense a lot further than he can. He finds where the flight of captured wyverns and those who are riding upon them, have stopped for the night.
They've stopped at an abandoned free folk village in a valley just where the foothills of the Stone Hills ends, and the region of Belinswae begins.
A valley that actually has trees in it, a stark contrast to the rocky hills and peaks found throughout the Stone Hills.
After landing, and the wyvern promptly falling asleep after he hops down off it, the elven magic user makes his way to a house that Narladene points out to him in the village. A little while later the elven masterthief enters the house.
"There's two more armies further to east of that mage Kaellin's one" says Helbe the elven thief to lord Farque who is sitting at the table in the main room of the house.
"They're withdrawing and heading south too" adds the grandson of Prince Raendril "Good" says lord Farque with a nod of his full helmed head.
Then the undead warlord, who is sitting at the table with a yawning Lisell Maera, and a sour looking sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who are eating their dinner after flying late into the night, says to the young elven noble "Get something to eat".
Helbe the elven thief nods, and makes his way over to the fireplace where Tamric Drubine is getting himself another plate of stew from pot on the trivet over the fire. The young elven noble, like the three living human beings is famished after a long day and night of flying . . . . . .
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