The Homecoming 3.

A Lane...

Mira Reinholt the mage looks down the lane that's end in an archway. An archway that opens into one of the largest, if not the largest building in the city of Leeabra.
A building close to a mile in length, that's basically a covered market, or bazaar. A building a number of years ago, in which the mage Reinholt lost the lower half of his left arm, and briefly died when he fought the dragon Nol and lost.
The dragon who was his friend and confidant, when the Vexilian mage in exile fought on the side of those in the government of Druvic who pushed north into the Sunreach Mountains. Allying themselves with the city-state of Kuradum, which is north of the largest mountain range, not just in the Southlands, but in all the world of Volunell.
The once powerful mage who was for the most part, on the otherside of the war from the rest of the group at the time. A group that was vastly different than what it is now.
Shakes his head slightly at the decisions he made nearly a decade ago when he was in his early twenties.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, did a lot of things back then out of spite more than anything else. He's amazed that he's still alive, and still in the group.
He's also amazed when he looks back on his previous stay here in the capital of the kingdom of Druvic.
That he wasn't killed, in particular by lord Farque. Who wasn't the least bit impressed with the renegade mage fighting on the otherside of the war from the rest of the group.
The mage Reinholt turns, as he has no intention of entering the long, covered marketplace where he lost his arm, and died.
He makes his way back up the lane, and stops at the corner of a street, and looks to the right. To the massive square, where the dragon Nol was killed, eventually by Helbe the elven thief and Sephiryn the elemental, after lord Farque brought it down out of the sky, and incapacitated it by slamming his sword down through the dragon's spine.
Beyond the massive square, is one of the many parks in the city of Leeabra, a city with many a massive edifice. One such is the basilica of Narille, which the Vexilian mage in exile can see in the distance above the trees. The basilica, which is in the grounds of the chapter house of the knights of the order of Saint Mar-che. Is still having repair work done on it's dome, almost a decade after it was nearly destroyed when lord Farque repeatedly fired a magetube at it.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands faintly smiles, as he knows that not far from the basilica of Narille.
In one of the domains of the city, the third one infact. Is where he cast a spell, that to this day, is the single largest explosion he's ever created.
And one of the largest by any human spellcaster in nearly five hundred years in the Southlands.
"Those were the days Mira, blowing shit up like it was nothing" Mira Reinholt the mage murmurs to himself as he turns onto the street, and heads towards the massive square.
He doesn't make it quite the way down there, he turns left onto another street, that briefly runs parallel to the square.
The mage Reinholt briefly stops at a shop that he used to frequent when he was living here in Leeabra.
He moves on, when he recognises the owner of the bookshop through the open doorway.
The exiled Vexilian mage knows that he won't be welcomed by a lot of people in the city if they find out he's returned. After all he once fought for those in the government, who ended up being on the losing side of the civil war here in the kingdom of Druvic after the failed war in the Sunreach mountains.
And the fact the highly skilled swordmaster and those who were in the group at the time, set in motion the events that lead to the civil war. When they killed Newkym, the then king of Druvic in the kings domain, the series of palaces and other structures where the kingdom is ruled from. Not that, that's common knowledge.
At the end of the street, on what's a chilly morning here in the capital of the kingdom of Druvic. The mage Reinholt hears a commotion on the street around the corner to the left, the way he intends to go.
The spellcaster who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation, here in the Southlands, rounds the corner, and mutters "Fucking hell" in surprise as he comes to a sudden stop.
Mira Reinholt slightly winces as he nearly walked into one of three cockatrice that are walking down the street. The highly skilled swordmaster breathes a sigh of relief as he sees that all three have blinders on, covering their eyes.
The mage in exile from the city-state of Vexil sourly smiles as he watches the large flightless, not to mention naturally magical birds walking by with a pair of handlers, as a crowd of onlookers on the street watch them go by.
The cockatrice are docile as they walk behind their handlers who have them on leads. It would be the opposite if their blinders were off. As the full force of their paralytic powers would be unleashed.
The swordmaster Reinholt hears some people chatting nearby say that the naturally magical creatures belong to the breeder to the kings domain. And that theses three will be sent to three lords who are in favour with the king upon the throne.
Mira Reinholt turns left, and as the handlers and their charges, and a fair number of the people on the street, head in the direction of the massive square. The Vexilian mage in exile glances up and sees a passing airship in the morning sky, as he continues on his way to where he's meeting someone.
In a small, and rather expensive tavern, that has one of Leeabra's most well known bakeries connected to it on one side. Lord Farque looks up from the scroll he's reading, and glances out of the glass window his table is next to.
The undead warlord watches Mira Reinholt coming down the street, then enter the small tavern. The once powerful mage takes the other seat at the small round table next to the window. And orders a white wine, and a couple of pastries from the bakery next door when the barmaid comes over and takes his order.
"He still there?" quietly asks lord Farque "He is" replies the mage Reinholt who slightly holds up his left hand, and continues with "None I've used ever since have been as good as his original ones" the highly skilled swordmaster then adds "He had plenty in stock, and i bought as many as i could carry".
The once powerful mage has visited the master artificer, who was trained by air elementals, and who built the automaton arm and hand the Vexilian mage in exile has.
The spellcaster who purchased a quantity of bolts, for the launcher built into his automaton arm, says "He is, he's in his seventies now" in reply to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque asking him "He must be getting on in age now?".
The deathlord of Farque nods his full helmed head, then after the barmaid brings over the mage Reinholt's wine and pastries, he quietly asks him "Ask him about the other thing?".
"I did" answers Mira Reinholt who briefly closes his eyes as savours the taste of the sweet pastries from the bakery. Which he's never been to before, but has eaten their goods in the past. When he had them delivered to his quarters in the nearby second domain, where the dragon Nol's tower is located.
The once powerful mage who briefly wonders who has taken up residence in the dead dragons tower, says to the undead warlord "He and his apprentices said with a name like that, and the field of, ah shall we say work they're in, they could be anywhere in the east of the kingdom".
The deathlord of Farque, who is also known as Draugadrottin by the people of his lands, nods his full helmed head. As that's pretty much the answer they've got whenever they've asked about the person they're trying to find.
"Makes sense, since here in the east, it's the older part of the kingdom" says the undead warlord, who then adds "And that practice is bound to still have a hold here".
The once powerful mage nods in agreement, then he slightly turns his head, and stares out the window as lord Farque lifts the visor of his full helm and takes a drink of the strong fruit liqueur in the cut glass tumbler, next to the rolled up scroll infront of him.
After finishing the drink, and closing the visor of his full helm, the undead warlord being pushes the rolled up scroll towards the exiled Vexilian mage. Who picks it up, and briefly unfurls it, and reads the top of it. He nods his hooded head, and rolls the scroll back up.
"They don't exactly write a lot of their work down" says Mira Reinholt, who continues with "They have a more oratory tradition than a scholarly one".
"I guess so" says the undead warlord who is known as Des'tier or The Destroyer by an older generation of elven kind who knows who he is, he continues with "Never had much to do with them" he follows that with "Hardly had any of them in my armies way back when".
The once powerful mage nods in understanding as he knows the lord of the death realm is referring to when he was still alive nearly four hundred and fifty years ago.
"Can't say I've had many dealings with them either" says Mira Reinholt, who then adds in a slightly dry tone of voice "Our methods are completely different to their's" he continue with "Then there's the matter of our line of work" as he gestures at himself and the undead warlord "They don't exactly go in for the life of a traveling adventurer or mercenary" says the highly skilled swordmaster who adds "Probably like to keep close to their added source of power".
"Probably" says the heavily armoured deathlord, who isn't entirely sure how this person they're looking for, will fit in with the rest of the group. Especially compared to the two spellcasters in the group at the moment, the mage Reinholt, and Helbe the elven thief.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque who also can't see the potential position that this person might hold in his plans, that's if they ever find the individual in question. Or more importantly, find them before they die or are killed. Like the last two people they've searched for after the power of foresight has come upon prince Helbenthril Raendril has revealed who the deathlord of Farque seeks next.
"His royal thiefness undoubtedly knows more about them" says Mira Reinholt, who glances out of the window their table in the small tavern is next to, then he adds "Speaking of the pointy eared pickpocket, where is he this morning?".
"He's checking out some of your old haunts" replies lord Farque, the mage Reinholt's eyebrows go up in surprise when he hears that . . . . . .