The Homecoming 33.

A Circle...

They crossed into the Lé Dic fief sometime yesterday morning. Now early the following morning, they're heading towards the town of Massic and castle Lé Dic which is a few days travel to the northeast of where they are at the moment.
As usual, Helbe the elven thief, along with Narladene the ground pixie, are far out infront of lord Farque and Mira Reinholt the mage. The elven magic user and the naturally magical creature who is 'attached' to him, are a good six miles to the north and east of the undead warlord and the once powerful mage.
Who as usual, are taking a longer route to their destination. As they travel from settlement to settlement. Going form hamlet to village to town, as they search for the person they've travelled to the kingdom of Druvic to find.
"Laugh that lot has already found him" says Mira Reinholt the mage as they head along a road that winds it's way around, and between some hills.
The once powerful mage who is in exile from his homeland the city-state of Vexil continues in a dry tone with "Wouldn't at all be surprised if he's always been here in Percy's lands".
Beside the Vexilian mage in exile this cool late winter's morning, lord Farque nods his full helm head in agreement with the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
The mage Reinholt as they walk to the side of the road that's a little muddy this morning, sees wagon tracks, and hoof marks in the road. And he says to the heavily armoured deathlord "A place nearby?".
"Farms" says lord Farque, who waves up towards a hill to their right, and adds "A vinters". The once powerful mage nods his hooded head as he spots the vineyard up that particular hill. He figures the summers must be warm and dry around here, while the winters are cool, and more often wet, than actually getting a large amount of snow.
"Fair bit of the kingdom's wine production comes from this region" says the swordmaster Reinholt as he recalls what little history he knows about the east of Druvic, a kingdom he lived in for more than a year, just over eight years ago.
"No wonder Percy's family has always been an established part of the kingdom" says the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, he continues with "What with all the wine they produce, as well as all the weapons and armour they make out this way".
Mira Reinholt is silent for a few moments, before he adds "Maybe siege engines, and war machines too" he follows that up with "And hopefully a certain engineer who makes them as well".
"Maybe" says lord Farque who for the last little while has been sensing something that they're approaching. It's magical whatever it is, but the undead warlord isn't exactly certain of what it actually is.
It's not until they're approaching the hill it's actually on, than the mage Reinholt, with his limited ability to sense, finally senses it.
"What's that?" quietly says the spellcaster who is in exile from the city-state of Vexil, who nods his hooded head towards the hill, the road they're on, is about to go around.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque slightly nods his full helmed head as he realises what it is, as he can just make out a couple of them from where they are on the road.
"Standing stones" says Draugadrottin as he's also known by, to the people of his lands "A circle" adds the  undead being who also happens to be the lord of the death realm "A druidic one" continues the heavily armoured deathlord.
"Must be some residual power still in it" says the once powerful mage, who then suggests "Should we go up and check it out?" Mira Reinholt then adds "If nothing else, it will give us a good view of the area, and we can see where this road is going".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque who is also known as Des'tier to an older generation of elven kind, shrugs his broad, heavily armoured shoulders, then he says "Might as well" the undead warlord who can sense a number of lives away to the north, continues with "It should give us a view of a village a couple of miles away to the north of here".
They head away from the road, and head up the hill, Mira Reinholt who starts to breath a bit more heavily in the cool morning air, says "Er?" followed by "You okay with going up into that circle?".
"Of course you idiot" says lord Farque who glances at the spellcaster walking beside him as they go by a small knot of trees "There's nothing holy about druids and their beliefs" says Draugadrottin, who then adds in dry tone of voice "They're about as far away from the fucking gods as one can get, and that includes me and my kind".
"I suppose so" says the exiled Vexilian swordmaster, who then adds "Guess I've never really given much thought about them and their ways".
The once powerful mage hasn't encountered many druids in the past. And those that he has, have been on the battlefield, or in some kind of combat. Either on the same side, or against them. Though the later being more common.
The mage Reinholt nods his hooded head, when the undead warlord tells him "Elves don't particularly care for them, especially the dark kind who they hate".
"Bad?" asks the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster "Basically as bad as a dark cleric, a necromancer" is the reply of the deathlord of Farque who said the last word 'Necromancer' in a sour tone of voice.
The Vexilian mage in exile winces, as he had a run in or two with dark clerics. And those experiences haven't been particularly pleasant. In fact they sucked.
Though still, his dislike of them isn't as much as lord Farque's towards them. Who doesn't like any kind of cleric. But he especially hates necromancers.
Which is kind of ironic, since any necromancer, would kill to have his powers, or at least a taste of them.
They get to the top of the hill, which has a circle of standing stones upon it's crown. A lot of the stones have worn away over time. And some of them only stand a few feet tall in places. While a few others, on the west side of the circle, are man size. Indicating the size all the standing stones were originally.
Mira Reinholt enters the circle, feeling a slight tingling sensation across his exposed skin.
"You feel that?" asks the once powerful mage as the heavily armoured deathlord enters the druid's circle behind him.
"No" says lord Farque in an amused tone of voice, the exiled Vexilian mage slightly winces, as of course the undead warlord wouldn't feel whatever it was. As he only let's magic affect him when he wants it to. Unless it's a high level clerical magic. Such as being on consecrated ground, like in a church or a temple.
The lord of the death realm points slightly to the northeast, and says "There". The swordmaster Reinholt looks that way, and spots a small village, nestled between two hills, about two and half miles away.
"Next stop then?" asks the spellcaster who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation from throughout the entire Southlands "Looks like it" answers the heavily armoured deathlord.
"And the royal thief?" asks Mira Reinholt, lord Farque nods his full helm head to beyond the village in the distance, and he says "Further to the north".
Before they go to make their way down off the hill, the mage Reinholt has a wander around the druid's circle upon the top of the hill. And on the west side of the circle, at the taller stone, he frowns as he sees two indentations in the inner facing side of the stone.
They're at about head height of someone of average height. Shorter than his own near six feet in height. He frowns as the indentations in the face of the stone, would be either side of the head if someone was to stand up against the stone.
"What's this?" asks the once powerful mage, the undead warlord turns and looks at what the Vexilian mage in exile is pointing at. The deathlord of Farque slightly frowns behind the visor of his full helm for a moment, then he slightly nods his head as he figures out what the mage Reinholt has found.
"Thaumaturgy" says lord Farque, who then adds "Blood magic". Mira Reinholt grimaces in disgust at that, then he mutters "Fuck".
"There would of been shackles where those small holes are, the sacrifice, well the fucking victim really" says the undead warlord, who goes on with "Would of been shackled to the face of the standing stone, then cut open to bleed out, for whatever the fuck they used this circle for".
The heavily armoured deathlord looks around at the standing stones that make up the circle, then he says in a slightly sour tone of voice "This one is a fucking dark druid's one".
The once powerful mage sourly smiles as he looks around at the standing stones that make up the circle. Then he's just about to tell the undead warlord that she should get going, when he notices a small cleft in the side of the standing stone he was just studying.
It's too regular to be from wear and tear from the elements over the untold years this circle has been on top of the hill. It's deliberately made, and most likely from when the stones were first erected.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster looks closely at the cleft in the side of the standing stone. It's only a few inches by two. In a stone that's nearly three feet in width.
Mira Reinholt who is bending down to look at it, slightly frown as he sees faint runes have been inscribed into the cleft into the side of the standing stone.
And being who he is, and because he's curious about pretty much anything magical, even magical things he dislikes. Which is pretty much everything that isn't mage in nature or creation. He touches with his gloved right hand, the cleft and faint runes inscribed into it.
There's a sudden surge of powerful magic. And for only the third time since he was stripped of most of his powers when he was was offworld. Mira Reinholt for the briefest of moments, feels the full extent of his powers.
In an instant, magical energy, that resembles lightning, shoots from standing stone to standing stone. Going around the druidic circle in a blink of an eye. Then once it's complete, an astonished mage Reinholt who is still touching the cleft in the side of the standing stone, and who is stunned that all of sudden he can once again feel all of his powers, suddenly disappears from sight.
Lord Farque who is still within the circle of standing stones. Though opposite from where the Vexilian mage in exile is. Has just the briefest of moments to decide if he should let the magic that's just be released, to have any effect on him.
The undead warlord who doesn't feel anything threatening from the sudden burst of powerful magical energy. Sourly smiles as he sees Mira Reinholt suddenly disappear in a flash.
And in the briefest of moments as he feels the magical energy that connects each of the standing stones of the druid's circle upon the hilltop start to dissipate as quickly as it arrived. The lord of the death realm allows the magic within the circle of standing stones to have an effect on him.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque disappears too. As he does, the undead warlord roles his eyes as he realises what's happening to him, and what's just happened to Mira Reinholt the mage.
About six miles to the north of the druid's circle, Helbe the elven thief is passing a small cluster of buildings at a crossroads. One of the roads leads up to a nearby vineyard. And he sees that the buildings that aren't houses, are used for the storage of barrels, and one of them is the business of a coopers.
Who the young elven noble figures must be one of the most in demand individuals in this part of the Lé Dic fief. Who'll never be out of work, what with all the grapes grown in the area, and all the wine that's produced.
The elven magic user, who as usual as he's traveling, is blurred and shielded. Allowing him to pass by without anyone knowing he's about.
Faintly smiles as he's just listened in on a conversation between a couple of men who are moving empty barrels from one building to another.
The elven masterthief listened to them talk about how they've got word recently that their former earl of the fief, sir Percavelle Lé Dic has returned home to castle Lé Dic within the last couple of weeks, after being absent for more than eight years.
The elven princeling from Laerel, left them as they discussed missing out on the annual late winter tourney being held over the previous two days at castle Lé Dic and the town of Massic.
They would of liked to of attended this year considering sir Percavelle Lé Dic is back. Who they both saw compete in tourney's a number of times in the past. And how he was always spectacular when in action, especially in the dueling, and jousting events. And in particular the final event of any tourney, the grande melee.
The elven master assassin who as he walks away from the buildings at the crossroads, and is just about to shift away along the road to the north.
Glances at his right shoulder where Narladene the ground pixie has just appeared, the naturally magical creature who was further north of here, is breathing heavily as she stands upon the right shoulder of the elven prince she's attached to, a fair indication that's she has moved at speed to get here.
Just as the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel is about to ask the tiny winged creature why she hurried back to him, Narladene the ground pixie says "They've gone".
"Huh?" says Helbe the elven thief "Farque and Mira, they've gone" says the naturally magical creature.
The elven masterthief spins around and looks away to the south, as he does, Narladene explains to him what she has sensed over six miles away to the southeast of here, too far away for the elven magic user to sense to.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril frowns as he listens to what the ground pixie has to say. The frown deepens as she mentions that it's a druid's circle that she sensed being briefly activated with a vast amount of power.
"And you can't sense them anywhere?" asks the young elven noble "No where" replies the ground pixie who then adds "Not Mira's magic, or lord Farque through the ground".
The elven magic user winces as he knows Narladene can sense anything magical from at least a dozen miles away, and she can sense movement through the ground, especially something she's familiar with, from even further away.
"I don't know where they are" says the naturally magical creature, the elven princeling winces again, then Helbe the elven thief mutters "Fuck" as he wonders what's happened to lord Farque and Mira Reinholt the mage . . . . . .