The Hire 100.

Almaic In The Duchy Of Phelm...

Looking away to the left, towards the enemy battlelines in that direction. Darid Parsen the cavalry commander asks "How close have they got now?".
"I'd say at least halfway" is the reply of Lisell Maera the runner who stands beside the member of lord Farque's personal council.
"Dorc's battalion leading the way of course" adds the attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
"Of course" dryly says commander Parsen with a shake of his head.
Then the cavalry commander who in actuality is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Darid Parsen.
Looks away to directly left of them, where in the distance. The other army here to the north of the city of Almaic. Is making it's way forward, at a measured pace, towards the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
That army, which is led by the young field commander Tamric Drubine is steadily advancing even though it's facing no opposition.
They don't want to get in the way of their own forward elements, who are doing the actual fighting. And are amongst the enemy battlelines. Working their way towards the north wall of the city that's the provincial capital.
Both Darid Parsen and Lisell Maera look to their right, to where field commander Leivyn and her senior staff are standing. Where one of the spellcasters close to them, has just called out that smoke has been spotted on the river Mareb, to the northeast of the city.
"So that part of the plan is in motion" quietly says Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well, nods to that. And though she doesn't know the plan of attack in detail. She does know the main points of it.
One of which is the first real movement from the army to the east of Almaic, which is led by the Farqian general, general Halvane.
The councilor then looks at their own forward elements who are amongst the enemy battlelines. They're not as advanced as those in the army led by field commander Drubine.
But nevertheless, they're well within the enemy battlelines as they make steady progress.
Commander Parsen looks over at field commander Leivyn, and finds the lithe, attractive woman from the lands Farque looking at him.
Darid aka Zubutai Timaginson slightly nods to her.
And a few moments later, field commander Leivyn says to her officers "Order the front ranks forward" she pauses before adding "Front ranks only".
"How'd they take that?" quietly asks the cavalry commander, who knows that Lis is keeping an eye on the robber barons Gergus and Solamard, along with their senior officers.
Who are to the back and right, about twenty five yards away.
"That definitely got their attention" says the attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, who is now a messenger in the armies of Farque.
Darid Parsen, who like the runner beside him, is speaking in the elven language, quietly says "No doubt" followed by "Considering the front ranks are made up of our army, and none of their's".
"Think they're talking about that matter right now" quietly says Lisell Maera, who after a slight pause adds "Pretty sure they're going to complain to the field commander about that decision".
Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman nods to that, then in the common language, he calls out "Percy with me!".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who once again is sitting on a nearby tree stump. Quickly stands up, and hurries over to join the cavalry commander and messenger, who are making their way to the right. To intercept the robber barons Gergus and Solamard, along with their seconds and senior officers, who are approaching field commander Leivyn and her senior staff.
Placing himself right in the path of the two robber barons and their senior officers. Darid Parsen gets in with "I'm sure the field commander will order some of your men forward soon enough" before they even have a chance to say anything.
And as the robber baron Solamard opens his mouth to say something, the cavalry commander quickly adds "It's still just the first morning of the battle, plenty enough time for you and your men to get involved in the battle".
"Well, you know, we could" says the robber baron Solamard, who is interrupted by Darid aka Zubutai the son of Timagin, who says "If you would excuse us, we've got things to attend to".
The councilor nods for Lis to follow him, and says "Come along then Percy" to the former earl of Lé Dic who has just hurried up behind them.
The cavalry commander and the messenger walk away, followed by sir Percavelle Lé Dic who says "Cheerio chaps" to the robber barons and their senior officers.
Who watch the trio walk away, with the younger of the two robber barons, Gergus. Keeping a close eye on the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, who he spent an intimate night with earlier in the campaign.
By the time they look away, they notice that field commander Leivyn and a couple of her senior officers, including her subcommander. Are gone, and are no longer with the rest of her senior staff.
The robber baron Solamard looks at one of his spellcasters, who tells him that the Farqian field commander and her subcommander have been teleported away.
Gergus, the youngest of the five robber barons from the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains, who have banded together to wage war upon duke Hargen of Phelm.
Sourly smiles when he hears that. Then he glances away, to where Lisell Maera is walking away in the company of the cavalry commander. Darid Parsen. And the heavily armoured knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
"Pray tell, where are we heading off too, wot?" asks the former paladin sir Percavelle as he follows the councilor and the messenger.
"One hopes into battle" adds the nobleborn knight who is from the kingdom of Druvic.
"To join up with my company" is the reply of Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who then quietly asks Lis in the elven language "What are they doing?".
"Looking around for someone to talk to by the looks of it" is the quiet reply of the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury who has just had a look back at the robber barons and their senior officers.
"Probably wondering where commander Leivyn has got to" adds the messenger, who is part of the scouts and rangers division in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
"Good" murmurs the cavalry commander, who a year and half ago, was a foot soldier in the army of lady Linara Lé Dic in the kingdom of Druvic. Until he was killed in battle, and brought back to life, with Zubutai Timaginson inhabiting the body of Darid Parsen.
"So are we wot?" asks the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che who isn't particularly fond of others speaking in foreign languages around him "Going into battle?" adds the nobleborn knight who is in his mid forties.
"Yes" is the reply in common from councilor Parsen "Capital" says a suddenly cheerful sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who is more commonly referred to as Percy by those who know him well.
"We are?" quietly asks Lis in elven "We are" is response from Darid aka Zubutai the son of Timagin in the same language.
"Me too?" asks the messenger in the Farqian mercenary army.
Commander Parsen nods his head, then says "Like i said, I'm not letting you out of my sight today".
The member of lord Farque's personal council continues with "Unless you want to go over and join Tam's army, where Mira will keep an eye on you".
"I'd rather stay with you" says the attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
Who is of the opinion that things tend to eventually blow up, both figuratively and literally around Mira Reinholt the mage in battle. And it's probably best, and most likely safer to stay with commander Parsen and his company.
As they walk behind the front ranks of their army, who are now advancing forward, towards the city of Almaic on this warm summer's day, here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic says "Hmmm where's that horse of mine?".
"We're not going mounted" says Darid aka Zubutai Timaginson, who then adds "We're going on foot like the others".
"Rather odd for a cavalry company if you ask me" declares the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, where a fief in the east of that kingdom, is named after his family, who have held it for more than five centuries.
"No one was asking you" dryly says the council member, which gets a grin from Lisell Maera, and a sour looking smile from sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
They meet up with commander Parsen's company, who are on the western edge of the front ranks who are now making their way forward towards the nearby city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
Before they set off, the cavalry commander asks his lead scout Zaneff "Will you be needed over to the east of the city in that river?".
"Not anytime soon" replies Zaneff the water elemental spouter, who continues with "Besides it's the coursers who will be doing most of it over there". The company's lead scout then adds "I'll go over if they send for me".
Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman nods to that, as he knows that Zaneff, who is one of only a handful of spouters, the most powerful of the water elementals, who are in the Farqian mercenary army.
Will prefer to stay with their company no matter what. Though he will head off and go somewhere else if needed.
The cavalry commander then looks at his second in command Kalleb, and asks him "Everybody got everything?".
"They have" replies Kalleb the second in command of the cavalry company, the officer from the hill country in the very south of the lands Farque then adds "We're just waiting for your order to head out, and follow this lot" as he nods at the front ranks of the army who have moved out, and are advancing towards the city of Almaic.
"Right then" says Darid Parsen, who then tells his second in command "Give the order, we're going into battle".
A wide grin splits the face of sir Percavelle Lé Dic when he hears that, it gets even wider when Kalleb gives the order to move out.
They set off, following after the front ranks of the army that's led by the Farqian field commander Leivyn.
As they walk forward in the midst of their company, both commander Parsen and his second in command, Kalleb. Warn the company to keep an eye out for anything that might come from the top of the north wall of the city. Whether it be magical or mundane.
For though there are spellcasters in the front ranks of the army with them. Their company doesn't have a spellcaster of their own.
Which is fine with Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman. Who is of the opinion that spellcasters are more trouble than they're worth during a battle.
And that they're only effective if they work in unison with other practitioners of magic on their side.
Or unless they're extremely talented like Helbe the elven thief. Or overwhelmingly powerful like Mira Reinholt the mage once was. And at certain times, still is.
After seeing Zaneff disappear in a cloudy mist of water, and telling sir Percavelle not to hurry ahead, and to remain with the rest of the company. Which the heavily armoured knight grudgingly does. Commander Parsen asks his second "Found a spot yet?".
"I have" replies Kalleb, whose ancestry definitely includes the barbarian hordes of the southern tundra, which lies immediately south of the lands Farque.
"A fortification in their lines that was taken by our forward elements a short time ago" continues the cavalry officer who is from the very south of the lands Farque, a nation that lies nearly five thousand miles further south within the Southlands.
"Good view of the city, and the wall" adds Kalleb, who follows that with "As well as back and across, not just at our army, but also commander Drubine's one too".
The cavalry commander who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Darid Parsen. Nods his head when he hears that form his second in command.
The member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, then looks up towards the top of the north wall of Almaic when they hear one of the magetubes up there being fired.
"Not at us" says commander Parsen, who then mutters in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra "Thank the fucking tundra gods for that".
Darid aka Zubutai the son of Timagin then says "The closer we get to the city, the less we have to worry about those magetubes".
"This is true wot" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic in his overly loud voice from behind commander Parsen, Kalleb and Lis.
And in a cheerful tone of voice, the former knight of the first class, adds "We just have to look forward to those catapults up yonder on that wall when we are closer to the city, we'll be in range of them" he then says "Should be fun wot".
After rolling his eyes, Darid Parsen dryly says "Percy only you would find getting shot at by enemy catapults to be fun".
"Tis true, tis true" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who after a slight pause adds in his usual loud, and boastful voice "If one can't have a bit of fun during a battle, what's the point of fighting wot" . . . . . .

The Hire 99.

The City Of Almaic. The Duchy Of Phelm. The Kingdom Of Nastell...

"A mage?" says the court wizard Melbar with a frown upon his face.
"Yes a mage" says sir Yarrim the sorcerer as they stand upon the north wall of the city of Almaic.
"No, i would of sensed one by now don't you think" says the court wizard, who then adds "And I've only recently got here from around on the west side of the city".
Changing tack a bit, the sorcerer who is in a relationship with the new heir of the duchy of Phelm, the lady Elaine.
Asks the older spellcaster "How are things going around on the west side?".
"Could be better" says the court wizard with a grunt, who then continues with "They've got most of their war machines around on that side of the city, and are using them to good effect".
The sorcerer in the red armour, who has a longsword on his left hip, slightly winces at hearing that.
Then he nods his head in answer to the wizard Melbar asking him "You sure it was a mageglobe?".
"Hmmm" murmurs the court wizard, who then says "If it was, and it got through your wards, why didn't it blast that side of the palace to bits?".
The wizard, who was born and raised here in the city of Almaic continues with "From what I've heard about mages, they like to destroy things for good" followed by "Not do what you described it doing".
"I know" murmurs the younger, and more powerful of the two spellcasters.
The court wizard, who is the epiphany of his calling, in long flowing colourful robes. The only thing missing that would make him more of a wizard, is a tall, pointy hat and a wand.
Though he does have a number of wands, just none on him at the moment. As none of the ones he owns, are particularly useful during battle.
Looks to the right, to the east along the top of the north wall of the city, then says "You know" the court wizard briefly pauses before continuing with "Dominic mentioned something when i got here a little while ago?".
"Oh?" says sir Yarrim, who then adds "What was that?".
"Just that something strange happened just after the battle got underway" says the wizard Melbar, who momentarily pauses as he a nearby catapult on top of the wall, flings a load of rocks and broken masonry at the enemy, who are amongst the battlelines just to the north of the city.
"Just beyond where the gates are" says the court wizard who points to the east along the top of the wall, and continues with "He thought it might of been a mageglobe that did that" Melbar briefly pauses before adding "I doubt anything else could of got through the wards along the wall".
The nobleman whose estates are located along the southern border of the duchy of Phelm nods his head as he looks that way along the top of the wall. Where beyond the main gates of the north wall of Almaic. A large chunk of the top of the wall is missing. So are two of the magetubes that were situated there.
There's definitely one amongst them, and that was definitely a mageglobe that got through my wards at the palace, sir Yarrim thinks to himself, who was doubting the presence of a mage amongst the enemy.
As the wizard Melbar explained, if a mageglobe had got through the wards at the ducal palace. It should of done a hell of a lot more damage than it actually did. It essentially just knocked over all those who were caught up in the rather loud, and rather colourful explosion that it created.
"Is he still hanging out with that cleric friend of his?" asks sir Yarrim about his fellow sorcerer Dominic "I hate that guy" adds the nobleman in a mutter.
"Beldane?" says the court wizard, followed by "Yeah he is". Melbar, who is an advisor to duke Hargen looks eastwards along the top of the wall, and adds "I think he's on the top of the wall that way".
Sir Yarrim sourly smiles at hearing that, which causes the older spellcaster to chuckle, then say "He is annoying isn't he?" followed by "Still, he's been in more battles you and i will ever get to see, so he's good for something i guess".
The sorcerer just grunts at that as he senses along the top of the north wall of Almaic, and locates his fellow sorcerer, Dominic amongst the other spellcasters here in this part of the city.
He sourly smiles again as he also senses the cleric Beldane, who is a cleric of the god Glaine. Probably the most popular deity worshiped not just here in Phelm, but throughout most of the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Then the nobleborn sorcerer glances at the court wizard who is about to cast. And a few moments later, a fireball appears on the otherside of the wards, and heads off towards the enemy army, that's now advancing it's front ranks towards the city of Almaic.
Following after it's forward elements, who are well and truly amongst the battlelines of those defending the city, just to the north of the wall.
The sorcerer Yarrim casts a fireball of his own, easily twice the size of the one that the court wizard has just cast.
It too appears on the otherside of the wards protecting the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm. And it burns through the morning air on it's way towards the enemy army which are advancing.
Sir Yarrim briefly looks at the other enemy army that's to the north of Almaic, this one further west. Which has yet to advance forward.
"Keep an eye on that lot" says the nobleborn spellcaster gesturing at the enemy army that's yet to advance at all.
"I will" says the wizard Melbar, who then nods his head in response to the powerful sorcerer telling him "And stay safe".
Sir Yarrim nods for his two guards to follow him along the top of the wall. The court wizard watches his fellow spellcaster walking eastwards along the top of the wall.
Still amazed he cannot sense him at all. Even when the sorcerer from the very south of the duchy cast that large fireball.
The wizard Melbar slightly shrugs his shoulders, then he goes back to watching the enemy from the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains. Who have invaded the north of the kingdom of Nastell, specifically the duchy of Phelm.
And who are now attacking the city of Almaic, the capital of Phelm.
"You two fought alongside the clerics of Glaine before?" quietly asks sir Yarrim to his two guards, both of whom are members of his personal household guards.
The more elite members of his guards, who are essentially an army in their own right. A number of his regular household guards are around on the riverfront along the east side of the city.
But the nobleborn spellcaster keeps his personal guards closer, usually going everywhere with at least two of them, as he's doing at the moment.
"I have" replies one of the guards, while the other shakes his head no, as the three of them walk along the top of the north wall of the city of Almaic.
"With the cleric Beldane?" asks the sorcerer Yarrim "I haven't" replies the guard who has spoken up, who after a slight pause, dryly adds "Though I've heard about him".
The nobleborn spellcaster sourly smiles, then mutters "Does anyone like that guy?". Sir Yarrim shakes his head, for his fellow sorcerer, Dominic gets along with the cleric Beldane. So much so, that they're good friends.
Which is kind of odd, as the only human practitioners of magic, who are almost as aloof as mages, are clerics. Pretty much all clerics of any number of gods, are the most standoffish of all spellcasters you'll ever likely to meet with the exception of mages.
They pass over the main gates of the north wall of Almaic. And as they approach the large chunk that's missing along the top of the wall. Sir Yarrim teleports himself and his two guards, to the otherside of the top of the wall, which is missing a more than thirty foot long section from it.
After reappearing, sir Yarrim glances down at the ground below, behind the north wall of Almaic.
There he spots a number of people, predominantly city guards, helping a few soldiers, and an officer. To carry a magetube, minus it's wooden wheeled cradle, towards a wagon.
The sorcerer slightly nods as he figures the explosion that blasted a more than thirty foot section out of the top of the wall. Must of been powerful to send a thousand pound magetube down to the ground below.
The nobleborn spellcaster looks back up when he hears his name being called out by someone, he spots who it is, and replies with "Dominic!" as he waves to his fellow sorcerer.
The two sorcerers, one nobleborn and the other commoner. Are more than acquaintences, they're friends. Well as much as a noble and a commoner can be friends in a society such as the one found here in the kingdom of Nastell.
They're of similar age, who have learnt their spellcraft together over the years. Infact sir Yarrim was first taught by Dominic's father. Who was a well respected sorcerer here in northern Nastell until he passed away.
The nobleborn spellcaster shakes the hand of his fellow sorcerer, who unlike him, isn't wearing armour. And doesn't have a weapon apart from a belt knife.
Sir Yarrim looks beyond Dominic, and spots the cleric Beldane further along the wall, next to a catapult. Talking to the crew who are operating it.
Feeling sorry for the catapult crew who have to listen to the cleric of Glaine. And feeling relief that he isn't over here with Dominic.
Sir Yarrim asks his fellow sorcerer if he's sensed or seen a mage amongst the enemy so far this morning, and tells him about the attack upon the ducal palace.
"No i haven't" replies Dominic, who is rather short and rotund. While his fellow sorcerer, Yarrim. Is tall and athletic.
"Though something odd happened a little earlier" says the common born sorcerer who like sir Yarrim, hails from the very south of the duchy of Phelm.
The sorcerer Dominic explains how he thinks a mageglobe might of created the destruction further back along the top of the north wall of Almaic.
He also tells sir Yarrim that a couple of army spellcasters he's spoken with over the last day or so. Who survived the battles up north along the border. Swear that a mage was amongst the enemy up there. Just that none of them couldn't sense the mage.
"That doesn't make sense" quietly says sir Yarrim, who is pretty certain there's a mage within the ranks of the enemy spellcasters.
"Everything I've heard about and read about mages, is that they're front and center with everything" says the nobleborn sorcerer who continues with "Hell, they're proud of the fact they're so powerful, and they like to flaunt it".
The sorcerer Dominic nods in agreement, then he says "It's true alright" the commoner then adds "I've met a couple of them, and you could sense them from miles away".
Dominic has traveled a fair bit, not just throughout the kingdom of Nastell, but also elsewhere around the Southlands.
"And they weren't shy in letting other spellcasters know that they were about" says the common born spellcaster.
"Then" quietly says sir Yarrim who looks out at the enemy from the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains, who have invaded the duchy of Phelm.
"What the hell are we dealing with here?" adds the nobleman after he briefly pauses.
"If you sensed it was a mageglobe at the palace, then it must be a mage" says Dominic who continues with "Another spellcaster might be able to fake what one looks like, but not what it senses like".
The nobleborn sorcerer from the southern border region of Phelm nods in agreement with that, and does so again when his fellow sorcerer quietly says "They must have a mage with them, just one who doesn't act like one would normally act".
It's the same conclusion the sorcerer Yarrim has come to. That there's an enemy mage somewhere. And that whoever it is, isn't behaving like any mage would normally behave.
Sir Yarrim who would normally expect a mage to blast away the city gates with ease, quietly says to his fellow sorcerer "Why the hell would a mage act like this?".
The common born sorcerer shrugs his shoulders, and replies with "I'm not sure".
The nobleborn spellcaster who is in a relationship with lady Elaine, the new heir to duke Hargen. Is about to ask his fellow sorcerer something else, when he notices his two guards are discussing something with urgency.
"What is it?" asks sir Yarrim as he turns to his personal household guards "Sir, in the distance there, on the river" says one of the guards who points away to the northeast of the city.
The nobleman in the red armour, who has a longsword on his left hip, looks that way, as does the sorcerer Dominic.
"Smoke" says sir Yarrim "And a lot of it" adds Dominic the sorcerer who continues with "Coming south along the river towards the city".
The nobleborn sorcerer nods in agreement with his fellow spellcaster, then quietly says "They're trying to hide something no doubt".
"Send a message to the east wall" orders sir Yarrim to a nearby army officer "Have the spellcasters there douse those fire boats, and sink them" adds the nobleborn sorcerer, who might not be in the duke's army. But he's still of the nobility, and is obeyed like one is normally obeyed.
Sir Yarrim goes back to looking at the enemy attacking the north wall of Almaic, and wonders if the mage in their ranks, is somewhere on this side of the city.
The nearby catapult flings off a shot at the enemy who are amongst the battlelines just north of the city.
The nobleborn sorcerer watches the trajectory of the shot of rocks, and where they'll land. And he blinks in surprise when he spots something amongst the battlelines.
Are they goblins? sir Yarrim thinks to himself in surprise, then out of the corner of his right eye, the sorcerer who is shielded, spots something or more precisely, someone approaching from the nearby catapult.
"Oh hell" the nobleborn sorcerer mutters to himself as he sees Beldane the cleric of Glaine walking this way.
"Keep at it" quickly says sir Yarrim to his fellow sorcerer Dominic.
The nobleman from the very south of the duchy of Phelm then nods at his two guards and tells them "Let's go".
And heads back along the top of the wall, the way in which they came from.
They walk away, not knowing they're being secretly observed by an enemy spellcaster, and a naturally magical creature who have followed them here to the north wall of the city from the ducal palace. Watching everything they say and do, and who they interact with . . . . . . .

The Hire 98.

Almaic. Phelm. Nastell...

They're in flat metal tubs that have been placed on various rafts and barges, that have been put into the river Mareb by those in the army that's come down from the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains, led by general Halvane from the Farqian mercenary army.
The wax bushes, or Keros bushes as they're called by elven kind. Are lit, and the rafts and barges they're on. Are pushed out from the riverbank opposite to the city of Almaic.
They're pushed out from the bend in the river to the northeast of Almaic, the capital city of the duchy of Phelm, which is in northern Nastell.
Thick white smoke starts coming off the slow burning wax bushes, as they start floating southwards along the river, that runs along the east side of Almaic.
Further south along the largest river in all of northern Nastell. Where it runs along the side of the city of Almaic. On the boulevard that's right next to the river, here on the east side of the city.
They look up at the tower they're next to, when one of the lookouts calls out that he sees in the distance to the north along the Mareb river. That there's smoke on the water.
The trio of non human mercenaries in the small squad all glance at one another after looking up at the top of the tower, and the lookouts up there.
Then Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy makes his way forward onto the dock infront of them. And walks out onto the pier, that goes out about seventy feet into the water.
The elf who is originally from the principality of Alínlae, where he served in the household of one of the more prominent noble families there. Who is now serving in the armies of Farque. Who  has infiltrated duke Hargen's army.
Ignores the yelling from the other squad leader Kamnix, telling him to get off the pier. As he looks northward along the river without the nearby tower getting in the way.
Looking back at those along the edge of the dock, in particular the small squad who he arrived here in Almaic with. A small squad that is led by young Barron. And which the the dwarven warriors, the McQuade cousins, Shawtus and Smawfri are a part of.
"Smoke on the water alright" says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy to the watching squad "A floating smoke screen by the looks of it" adds the spy Tanith who has already survived a couple of battles, where the army he has infiltrated, was soundly beaten by his own side of the conflict.
There's a loud splash in the water just beyond the end of the pier where a boulder shot from one of the catapults on the otherside of the river has just hit.
Dalinvardél Tanith, or Dalin as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. It's also the name he's going by whilst ensconced in the army of duke Hargen.
Ignores the large spray of water further behind him as he walks back to the edge of the dock, and rejoins the small squad he's a part of.
As the nearby catapult shoots back at those on the otherside of the river,
And ignoring the squad leader Kamnix, who after glaring at the spy Tanith. Wanders away down the boulevard.
The elven spy who is passing himself off as a mercenary ranger from his homeland says to the young squad leader Barron, and the McQuade cousins "From what i could just see around the bend in the river in the distance, is that they've got quite a few rafts and barges in the water".
Dalin, who along with Shawtus and Smawfri McQuade, has informed young Barron that the enemy forces have got river craft loaded with wax bushes, then quietly adds "That smoke will be a while getting this far down the river".
The elf who is originally from the principality of Alínlae, gestures at the river as he continues with "It isn't exactly flowing as quickly as it was at dawn when we got here".
The spy Tanith knows exactly why it isn't. Water elementals. Predominantly coursers. Who are in the mercenary army from the lands Farque. Who are now controlling the flow of the Mareb river as it goes by the city of Almaic.
"Why exactly will they need all that smoke?" asks Barron the squad leader, he continues with "I know to screen what they're up to across the river, but the spellcasters we've got here will be able to pierce it, and see what they're doing over there".
"Aye lad you got the gist of it" says Shawtus McQuade who is watching the enemy across on the otherside of the river.
"But these magic men we've got can only do so much" adds the slightly older and slightly taller of the two dwarven warriors from the Sunreach Mountains.
"And word won't get to everyone along the riverfront here, of what those buggers across the river are getting up to" continues Shawtus McQuade.
His slightly younger cousin Smawfri grunts in agreement as he looks to the south of them. Where at the next tower along, a spellcaster is positioned.
"I don't think we've exactly got the cream of the crop of the spellcasters with us" quietly says Smawfri McQuade, who then adds "If you know what i mean".
The slightly younger and slightly shorter, not to mention the more temperamental of the two McQuade cousins quietly continues with "Added with these city guards we've been lumped with, I'd say this section of the riverfront we're to defend isn't expected to last very long if the enemy manage to cross the river".
His slightly older, and slightly taller cousin Shawtus grunts in agreement. While Dalinvardél Tanith nods his hooded head in agreement with that assessment.
The young squad leader from further south in the duchy slightly winces at that. For their small squad, along with the larger squad, which is from the household of sir Yarrim the sorcerer, and is led by squad leader Kamnix. Along with a bunch of city guards.
Are to defend the riverfront and boulevard between two of the watch towers that are dotted up and down the edge of the boulevard, along this side of the city of Almaic.
There's also a pair of catapults from the army between these two particular towers. Though their crews also from the duke's army. Are commanded by a couple of engineers in the engineering corp in duke Hargen's army.
"They're getting closer" says Dalin in a nonchalant manner as a boulder shot from an enemy catapult on the otherside of the river. Comes crashing down on the end of a pier, a bit further south from them. Not far from the tower that's directly to the south of them.
"Great" sourly says Smawfri McQuade in the dwarven language, he continues in that language, and tone with "I can't wait to get bombarded by all that fucking shit".
His slightly older cousin Shawtus grunts in agreement, then after looking around, says in the common language "Not much in the way of cover around here, unless we take shelter in the buildings across the boulevard".
Shawtus McQuade continues on with "Don't think that Kamnix will take to kindly to us doing that, so we'll just have to keep a careful eye on those war machines they've got across the river".
He then nods as his slightly younger, and slightly shorter cousin mutters "At least the bastards have got no trebuchets over there".
Dalinvardél Tanith nods his hooded head in agreement to that. But the elven spy who has infiltrated duke Hargen's army. Knows that what's install for those defending the east side of the city of Almaic is going to be a hell of a lot worse than a bombardment from any trebuchets they could of faced.
The spy Tanith knows that he'll have to keep a careful watch on things. Especially if he wants to get out of this battle alive. Which indeed, he certainly wants to do.
Meanwhile, within the city of Almaic itself. The swordmaster Berric, and those with him. Including the experience guardsman Ludoc. Have left the grounds of the church of Glaine. And are returning to the ducal palace.
The commander of duke Hargen's personal guard, who along with Ludoc. Survived two battles against the enemy already this summer. One of which was the battle for the northern city of Savariss.
Glances over at Ludoc, who has just spotted a pair of city guards hurrying through an nearby lane, looking a little nervous as they glance this way.
"There'll be a bit of that" quietly says Ludoc with a nod of his head in the direction those two city guards went.
"Not reporting to duty once they've seen what's really going on" adds the experienced guardsman.
Berric the commander of duke Hargen's personal guard nods in agreement, then quietly says "It can't be helped". The commander of the duke of Phelm's personal guard quietly continues with "They'll end up fighting once the enemy enters the city".
"You think they will?" quietly ask the experienced guard Ludoc, the commander who is also a swordmaster, nods then says "With the way things have gone so far this summer, i wouldn't be surprised if they do".
Commander Berric, who also happens to be the highest placed commoner in the court of duke Hargen of Phelm, continues with "After the battles along the border, then at Savariss, which fell in just a night. They're more than likely to do so. Even with the size of the force the duke has here". Ludoc slightly nods to that, then mutters "Damn".
The swordmaster who hails from the northern city of Savariss quietly tells the experienced guard "It won't be easy for them, and it'll take them some time to do so".
Commander Berric briefly pauses as they round a street corner, then he continues with "Though even then, they might not actually take the city".
"I hope not" murmurs Ludoc as they continue on their way back to the palace of the duke of Phelm, after observing the battle from the highest point in the city. The old bell tower in the grounds of the church of Glaine.
The streets are near empty compared to a normal summer's morning here in the city of Almaic.
They see very few people about, as word has spread throughout the capital of the duchy of Phelm that the armies of the robber barons of the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains, who have invaded the duchy of Phelm, have begun the attack upon the city of Almaic.
A magetube in the distance firing from the top of the north wall of the city, reiterates that the battle here in the city is well and truly underway.
They don't see too many more people on the streets as they return to the ducal palace. They see a squad of city guards, heading east. On their way to the boulevard that runs between the city proper and the riverfront that way.
And they also see a mounted messenger in the duke's army riding north from the palace.
Apart from that, they just see a handful of people on the streets. Which are usually busy in the mornings, before the heat of midday and the early afternoon. When people normally retreat indoors, to get out of the heat and have a long lunch.
The commander and his men, who are not part of the army. Whose sole task is to protect the duke of Phelm.
Feels constrained with what he's able to do. Though with the way things have gone so far this summer, he suspects before the battle for Almaic is over, he'll take command of something as they defend against the armies of the robber barons from north of the border, who have banded together to wage war upon the duchy of Phelm and it's duke, duke Hargen.
They get back to the palace grounds, which are more in the south of the city, than they are in the very center of Almaic.
Just as a messenger rides in from the western side of the city. He's one of only a few to do so this morning.
And as he approaches from behind, the swordmaster Berric calls out to him "What's happening out there?".
"They're continuing their bombardment of our lines out there commander" says the messenger who immediately recognises the swordmaster, the commoner who is highly placed in the court of the duke.
"They were moving their trebuchets forward again when i left" adds the messenger, commander Berric nods, and waves the rider by, who continues on his way to the main building of the palace.
It's the same building that the swordmaster and his men are heading to. And once inside, the commander of duke Hargen's personal guard finds the duke and others in the antechamber that's being used as a planning room.
The commander sees the messenger from the west of the city, talking to a couple of officers.
While he spots the duke is in conversation with his chamberlain, sir Lamard.
The swordmaster who hails from the northern city of Savariss. Looks around and spots a number of other important personages in the duke's court.
Notably the duke's younger sister, and new heir, the lady Elaine. As well as sir Alfred. The nobleman in his mid forties, wearing heavy armour. Who is the former lover of the much younger lady Elaine.
Her current beau, sir Yarrim the sorcerer doesn't seem to be in attendance at the moment.
And as they cross the antechamber to where the duke is, the swordmaster Berric quietly asks the experienced guardsman Ludoc "You see sir Yarrim anywhere?".
Ludoc looks around, carefully looking at everyone in the large antechamber, then shakes his head no, and quietly says "He's not here".
And where are you sorcerer? commander Berric thinks to himself, the common born member of the duke's court, knows that sir Yarrim won't shirk from any responsibility. Also knows that the nobleman, whose estates are along the southern border of Phelm. Doesn't willingly put himself in a situation unless there's some advantage to himself. Or if he wants to make a point about something.
The swordmaster from the city of Savariss, knows that out of all of those in the current court of the duke of Phelm. It's the nobleborn spellcaster, sir Yarrim who is the most opportunistic.
Who he wouldn't put it past him, that he has designs upon the ducal seal of Phelm. Which is even more evident to commander Berric, now that the sorcerer's lover, the lady Elaine is the new heir to duke Hargen.
And you helped him get into that position, the swordmaster Berric sourly thinks to himself, who unwittingly did so by bringing sir Tanvar, the younger cousin of the duke, and his former heir, to court. And laying charges against him, which ended in sir Tanvar being executed, just last night. When he was hanged out in one of the courtyards on the western side of the palace grounds.
"Berric you're back" says duke Hargen when he sees the commander of his personal guard, the duke of Phelm, the northern most duchy in the kingdom of Nastell, continues with "What did you see from up in the old bell tower of Glaine?".
The swordmaster reports what he and his men saw from up in the old bell tower in the grounds of the church of Glaine.
And though they saw the fighting was heaviest to the north of the city. Then a little bit less so to the west, where the enemy was concentrating on bombarding the duke's battlelines with their war machines.
The swordmaster Berric tells the duke of Phelm that he suspects the enemy will make their major push from the east side of the city, even with the wide flowing Mareb river between them and the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
After the commander explains things as he sees it, he quietly asks the duke "Where's sir Yarrim?" as he looks around at the others in the large antechamber.
Duke Hargen tells the commander of his personal guard about the mageglobe that got through the wards around the palace. Which exploded just inside this very building. Though doing no damage, apart from knocking down those who got caught up in it.
And how sir Yarrim the sorcerer has gone to find the enemy spellcaster responsible for it.
Commander Berric shares a look with the experienced guard Ludoc. For they too were caught up in a mageglobe explosion, in the battle along the border. And that explosion killed everyone with the exception of them and lord Chesíe, who would be killed later on during the battle for Savariss.
The fool, he's been lured into a trap, the swordmaster Berric thinks to himself referring to sir Yarrim. The commander might not know an awful lot about things magical. But from what he's seen, and been told. If a mage wants to kill you, they will. If not, they're drawing you into a trap of some kind, as some of the spellcasters in the duke's army learnt the hard way along the border to the north.
And which by what duke Hargen has just told him, commander Berric believes sir Yarrim the sorcerer is about to learn . . . . . .

The Hire 97.

The Battle Of Almaic...

"The front ranks of Tam's army are advancing" says Lisell Maera who is looking to the east along their flank. Where the front ranks of the army led by the young field commander Tamric Drubine, are advancing.
The forward elements of that army are well in advance, amongst the enemy battlelines. Infact some of them are near halfway to the north wall of the city of Almaic, and it's still not yet midmorning.
"Well here we go then" murmurs Darid Parsen the cavalry commander who looks eastwards as he stands next to the messenger, Lisell Maera.
The cavalry commander who is a member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Watches as the front ranks, those in the van of the army, predominantly made up of the armies of the robber barons Almard and Larimer.
Move forward facing no resistance from the enemy, who have been cleared out by the forward elements of commander Drubine's army.
The cavalry commander who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Darid Parsen. Looks quickly towards the north wall of the city that's under attack.
There he sees, then hears a couple of the magetubes up there. Fire off shots at the advancing army that's led by the young field commander in the Farqian mercenary army, who is originally from the kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Will we advanced too?" asks Lisell Maera who has just quickly looked back and to the right of them. To where the robber baron Gergus stands with his fellow robber baron, Solamard. Along with their seconds, and others of their senior staff.
They too have noticed that the army to the east of them are now advancing. And for now, they're staying put.
"Not yet" says Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman in response to the question from the attractive young woman who hails from the city-state of Brattonbury.
The councilor, who like the messenger, is speaking the elven language, then quietly tells her "Soon enough though".
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called, wasn't privy to the plans of the attack upon the city of Almaic. Well not in detail at least.
Nods her head after commander Parsen tells her that this army. Which is predominantly made up of the armies of the robber barons Gergus and Solamard. And led by the field commander Leivyn. Will advance by at least midmorning.
She then quietly says to the cavalry commander "Not soon enough for somebody" as she gestures away to their left.
Darid aka Zubutai the son of Timagin looks that way and sourly smiles. As he sees that sir Percavelle Lé Dic has resumed his pacing.
The heavily armoured knight has alternatively done that, or sit upon a nearby tree stump throughout the morning so far. As he waits for the order to advance.
"Percy!" calls out Darid Parsen in the common language, which stops the pacing of the former earl of Lé Dic. Which is a fief in the east of the kingdom of Druvic. The fief which is named after the nobleborn knight's family.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che looks expectantly at the cavalry commander who is a member of the personal council of lord Farque.
"We'll be advancing forward soon enough" says councilor Parsen.
The heavily armoured knight, who happens to be a former paladin in his knightly order. Looks quickly eastwards at the army that's advancing there.
Then the nobleborn knight looks to the enemy battlelines, to where the advanced elements of that army has got to.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic then looks back at the cavalry commander, and sourly smiles.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Slaps shut the faceplate of his full helm.
The former knight of the first class in the order of Saint Mar-che. Who is pretty oblivious to the warm temperature this clear, sunny summer's morning.
Resumes his pacing back and forth. Making it fairly obvious that he isn't happy that the army to the east led by field commander Drubine is advancing now.
Not to mention the forward elements of that army, have moved well ahead into the enemy battlelines. And are basically halfway to the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
"He'll get over it once we attack" says Darid aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman in the elven language, who after a slight pause, dryly adds "Or if Dorc gets himself killed".
"He'd be completely happy not to go into battle at all today, if Dorc was to get himself killed" quietly says Lisell Maera who is originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, who is now a runner, or messenger in the armies of Farque.
"There is that" murmurs the member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who then waves over a junior officer, a subaltern. And has a quiet word with him.
The subaltern then hurries over to where field commander Leivyn stands with her senior staff watching the progress of the battle for the city of Almaic.
The subaltern delivers the message to the small, lithe, attractive field commander in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Commander Leivyn looks quickly around, and spots councilor Parsen standing off to one side with Lisell Maera.
The Farqian field commander slightly nods to the cavalry commander, who eighteen months ago, was a foot soldier in the army of lady Linara Lé Dic in eastern Druvic.
Until he died, and was brought back to life. Though with the soul of Zubutai Timaginson inhabiting the body of Darid Parsen.
"What is it?" asks Lis who didn't hear what councilor Parsen said to the subaltern.
"Nothing much" is the quiet reply of the cavalry commander, who after a slight pause, continues with "For now".
The attractive young woman originally from the city-state of Brattonbury, who is now a messenger in the armies of Farque.
Refrains from sourly smiling as she wants to do after hearing that for Zubutai the son of Timagin.
The runner, goes back to waiting as she stands side by side with the member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
While not faraway from the two of them, sir Percavelle Lé Dic continues to pace back and forth as he waits for the order to advance towards the enemy battlelines and the city of Almaic.
Around on the west side of the city of Almaic, the bombardment upon the enemy battlelines continues.
Tovis the war engineer who is standing near one of the trebuchets that are firing upon the defenders of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
Looks over at his second in command of the engineering corp, the sorcerer Larris, who has just said "You know, i don't think there's too many people on the streets out here".
The Farqian sorcerer continues with "I don't think there's all that many in those buildings either".
The sorcerer who is looking through a brass, cylindrical eyepiece, takes it away from his face and looks at the young engineer and tells him "I think a lot of them have been evacuated to inside the city proper".
As the nearby trebuchet flings a shot off at the enemy battlelines, Tovis the war engineer says "Are you sure?".
The sorcerer, who is fairly young himself, shrugs his shoulders, then says "Sure enough i guess" he then adds "It certainly looks like most of those who usually live and work there aren't there this morning".
Larris hands the eyepiece to the war engineer, who looks through it. Looking behind the enemy battlelines, to where the city of Almaic spills out of this side of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
Tovis, who is originally from the kingdom of Druvic, where he once served a baron Harkonin as war engineer.
Sees that his second in command is correct. And that the streets that are outside the city proper, are fairly empty. Apart from soldiers and mercenaries hurrying to and from the battlelines, to inside the city.
After looking at a few of the buildings that stand outside the city proper. And not seeing much in the way of movement in or around them. Tovis the war engineer quietly says "I think you're right".
After handing the eyepiece back to the sorcerer, the young engineer who leads the engineering corp in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Waves over a nearby runner, and tells her to deliver a message to field commander Talbot, who leads this particular army that's attacking the west side of the city that's the provincial capital.
After the messenger runs off, the young engineer who commands the engineering corp, who holds the rank of captain in the armies of Farque, calls out to one of his subalterns "Prepare to move the larger trebuchets forward again!".
"You think the field commander will want us to try and hit that part of the city?" asks the sorcerer from the lands Farque "Definitely" is the reply of the war engineer, who glances off to one side, and sees Shur Kee the monk nod in agreement with his response to Larris.
"Especially if we're able to get their attention even more" quietly says the young engineer who hails from the kingdom of Druvic.
Tovis then calls out to the nearby subaltern "Get the pitch and naphtha ready, some of them will be fire shots!".
The sorcerer slightly winces at that order, though he can see the logic of it. Then Larris puts up a barrier spell infront of a trebuchet thirty yards further to the left of them, as an energyball from the enemy lines heads towards it.
Another of the spellcasters in the army led by field commander Talbot, which is predominantly made up of the robber baron Markell's army. The robber baron who by far has the most spellcasters with him.
Sends an energyball back at the enemy battlelines, to the spot where the incoming one originated from.
A perfect example of how magic is usually cast during battles. Where spellcasters from any side, are best to work in unison. Or if not, they quickly become an easy target for the practitioners of magic on the opposing side.
Though if you're highly skilled or alternatively, very powerful. You can cast how ever you want during a battle, even one the size of this one that's raging around the city of Almaic.
Some of the larger catapults are firing at the enemy battlelines now. And some of their war machines are firing back too.
Tovis who sees a load of rocks come crashing down upon some of the soldiers and mercenaries in the army of robber baron Markell. Well those who were too slow to find cover.
Says to his second in command "If we set enough of those buildings out here on fire, that might draw some of the others from elsewhere in the city, out here to help put out those fires".
The young engineer originally from the kingdom of Druvic continues with "No way in hell will they want fire to spread inside the city proper".
The sorcerer from the lands Farque nods his head in agreement with that, then quietly says "If we move the larger trebuchets forward again they'll definitely be in range of their larger catapults".
The war engineer nods at that assessment from his second in command, then quietly tells him "The spellcasters will have to target them now".
"That'll at least keep them distracted if nothing else" quietly says the sorcerer Larris, who looks in the direction of the nearest spellcaster in their lines. Another practitioner of magic in the Farqian mercenary army.
Who he tells her by way of mindspeech what the plans of the war engineer are, if they get the go ahead from field commander Talbot.
The young engineer along with his second in command, as well as Shur Kee the monk, who has kept close to Tovis all morning so far.
Walk to the next trebuchet along, and when they get to one side of it, and watch it's crew reload it.
The messenger the war engineer sent off a short time ago, makes her return.
"That was quick" murmurs Larris the sorcerer, who slightly nods when the messenger tells the young engineer that field commander Talbot gives him the okay to fire attack the city where it spills out onto the ground to the west of the city proper.
The war engineer starts issuing orders, then as fire shots are being prepared, the larger trebuchets are pushed and towed forward, so that they're closer to the city of Almaic, and also closer to the enemy battlelines.
"This is going to get dicey now" quietly says Larris the sorcerer, who is prepared to help the other spellcasters nearby in their own lines, who are now targeting the largest of enemy war machines.
Beside the sorcerer, the young engineer nods in agreement with him. For Tovis knows that the battle on this side, the west side of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm. Is the most fluid and changeable of the battles on three sides of the city.
To the north, as well as the east, where the river Mareb runs alongside Almaic. The battle plans are more precise, relying on timing just as much as brute force.
While here on the west side of the city that's the provincial capital. The plans for attack are much broader, with the option to change as field commander Talbot sees fit.
For the simple reason there's more of the enemy outside of the city proper on this side. And the fact the battle on the west side of Almaic is one giant distraction, to draw more of the enemy out here, and away from defending the other sides of the city that's under attack.
As they follow the trebuchet that's being hauled forward, Larris the sorcerer says to the commander of the engineering corp in the Farqian mercenary army "Here we go again".
"Here we go again alright" quietly says Tovis the war engineer as he spots one of the larger enemy catapults amongst their battlelines, send a shot heading more or less in this direction.
While the enemy catapult right next to that one, suddenly goes up in flames as it's hit by multiple fireballs cast by spellcasters in the army led by field commander Talbot.
The young engineer Tovis looks up and watches a boulder come hurtling through the morning sky in their direction, and hopes that his second in command can deflect it. So it misses the trebuchet that's being hauled forward. But more importantly, that it misses them too . . . . . .

The Hire 96.

Almaic. Phelm. Nastell...

"Where are the damn messengers from the north and the west sides of the city" mutters duke Hargen as he walks across one of the courtyards in the ducal palace.
He looks at one of the army officers who is supposed to be keeping him informed of the situation of the battle that's taking place outside of the city, and asks him "Anything?".
"Nothing my lord" is the reply from the officer, who continues with "Just that they're now advancing towards the Mareb river to the east of the city".
The duke nods to that, as that was to be expected. Though he doesn't see how they'll cross the river that runs along the east side of Almaic.
And that there's no bridges that cross the river to the city. And crossing by barge or raft, is tantamount to suicide in the opinion of duke Hargen.
For doing so, you'll make yourself a target for the defenders along the east side of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm. The northern most duchy in the kingdom of Nastell.
They round a corner and the nobleman whose duchy is under attack from five of the robber barons of the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains.
Spots the sorcerer sir Yarrim walking this way. The nobleman whose lands are along the southern border of the duchy has just returned from the east side of the city.
The sorcerer, who is in a relationship with the younger sister of the duke, is with sir Alfred and a number of others. And when they see the duke, they hurry over to join him.
"Well?" asks duke Hargen "They're advancing towards the river" is the response from sir Yarrim who has a number of his men on the east side of the city.
"I know that" says the duke of Phelm, who continues with "What about elsewhere?".
"Not sure" says the nobleborn sorcerer who has warded the ducal palace "I do know the fighting is heavy outside of the city to the north" continues sir Yarrim, who then adds "Not sure about things to the west".
The powerful sorcerer in red armour, who has a longsword at his side, then asks his liege "Any of the messengers come in lately?".
"Bugger all" mutters duke Hargen who neither opposes or agrees with the relationship between the sorcerer and his younger sister, the lady Elaine.
"Nothing from the west basically all morning" says the duke who then adds "And only a few from the north wall, but none in sometime".
"Must be busy with things" says the sorcerer Yarrim "Commander Berric has gone to check on things" says duke Hargen who continues with "Think he was going to go to the old bell tower in the grounds of the church of Glaine to observe things".
Sir Yarrim just nods his head at the mention of Berric, the common born swordmaster who is the commander of duke Hargen's personal guard.
The sorcerer isn't a particular fan of the commander. Even though the swordmaster's actions have made his ladylove, the lady Elaine. The new heir of the duke of Phelm. Putting Yarrim one step closer to the ducal seal.
"He'll be able to give a detailed report of what's going on when he returns" says duke Hargen, once again the sorcerer just nods as they all enter the main building of the palace.
As to the north, they hear the distant thuds of the magetubes up on the north wall of Almaic, firing again. The heavy magical weapons are so loud that they can be heard firing for miles in all directions.
Sir Yarrim, who has been sensing on and off since the battle began at dawn. Frowns and looks back out the large open doors they've just come through.
The sorcerer from the very south of Phelm is sure that he can sense something magical that's inside his wards, which wasn't there a few moment ago.
Sir Yarrim senses again, and though it's difficult to locate. He senses in the right direction, to the west across the palace grounds, and he finds it.
He blinks in surprise as he realises what it is, then after a moment of disbelief, the sorcerer shouts out in warning "Mageglobe!". Then slams up a barrier as well as a protection spell around those with him and the duke as he senses the living piece of magic is heading directly this way.
Sir Yarrim, who is wondering how the hell the mageglobe got through his locked wards and into the palace grounds. Spots it at the last moment as it comes shooting towards the open doors here in the main building of the palace. Then explode right next to his barrier and protection spells he's just put up.
"It definitely went in" says Helbe the elven thief who has returned to the rooftop of the merchant's building just to the west of the ducal palace in the city of Almaic.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user who saw the mageglobe created by Mira Reinholt the mage pass over the wall on this side of the palace, continues with "Damn things are difficult to sense half the time".
"It's heading towards the main building in the palace" says Narladene the ground pixie who is upon the right shoulder of the young elven noble she's attached to.
The elven masterthief, who just happens to be a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel. Nods his hooded head, and senses where Narladene says the living piece of magic is heading.
"It's picking up speed" adds the naturally magical creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains.
The elven princeling from Laerel suddenly senses the mageglobe, and though he can't see it at the moment. He looks in the distance towards the main building within the grounds of the ducal palace.
There beyond the wards that surround the palace, he senses a powerful barrier spell, and equally powerful protection spell go up.
"That sorcerer really is powerful" murmurs prince Helbenthril Raendril as he continues to sense.
Then an instant later, he senses, then hears the living piece of magic crested by the mage Reinholt, come to end of it's existence.
A moment later, and both Helbe the elven thief and Narladene the ground pixie grin as they see an explosion of colours on one side of the main building of the palace of the duke of Phelm.
It's so bright and colourful, that it's easy to see in the bright sunshine of the morning.
"Definitely know where that is" murmurs the young elven noble who is a member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"Now let's see what he does" quietly says the grandson of Prince Raendril who has sensed that the powerful sorcerer sir Yarrim survived the exploding mageglobe, as was intended.
Duke Hargen is knocked off his feet by the explosion, so was everyone else around him and sir Yarrim.
With his ears ringing, and his eyes seeing the after images of bright colours for a few moments. The duke rolls over, and shakes his head as he sits up.
Then he blinks in surprise as he looks around, and sees no damage to the entrance hall they're in. He was expecting to see it, as well as the outer wall of this side of the main building of the palace, to be heavily damaged, but they're not.
"What the hell?" mutters duke Hargen, who is helped to his feet by two of his personal guards. While sir Yarrim who was the first one to get up off the floor. Is helping sir Alfred to stand up, who groans as he gets to his feet.
"A damn mageglobe" says the sorcerer Yarrim in disbelief, who heard the reports that apparently a mage attacked one of the duke's armies up on the border within the unruled lands in the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains.
But he didn't believe them. Nor did he think the enemy outside of the city would have a mage with them. For the simple reason mages aren't exactly shy about flaunting their powers. And the powerful sorcerer would of sensed one from miles away if one was with the enemy armies that are now attacking the city of Almaic.
The nobleman in mid twenties, whose lands are along the southern border of the duchy of Phelm, senses in all directions for as far as he can, after dropping his near depleted barrier and protection spells.
And though he can sense outside of the city, and sense quite a few spellcasters amongst the enemy. Not a single one of them is a mage.
Hmmm what's going on here? sir Yarrim thinks to himself, who then looks at the duke who asks him "What's going on Yarrim?" followed by "And what was that you shouted?" duke Hargen then adds "A mage something?".
"Mageglobe" says the sorcerer, who continues with "Magic that's alive, and can only be created by a mage".
The duke of Phelm nods, then says "One of those attacked the army i was with up north" .
"So i heard" murmurs the nobleman from the very south of the duchy, who then tells the duke "My lord, i must be off to deal with this threat" sir Yarrim then silently adds, and figure out how the damn thing got through my wards.
"Don't get yourself killed" says duke Hargen "I'll try not to" say the nobleborn sorcerer, who then makes his way back through the entrance hall, after telling a couple of his own soldiers to accompany him.
Sir Yarrim shields himself as he and his men make their way out of the large doors that are on this side of the main building of the ducal palace.
"Where did he go?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief, who all of a sudden is unable to sense the powerful sorcerer.
"He's shielding" says Narladene the ground pixie who can sense any spellcaster no matter what they're doing to mask themselves from other practitioners of magic.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user nods his hooded head when the tiny winged creature standing on his right shoulder, says "He's exiting that big building in there".
The naturally magical creature who has been attached to the elven masterthief for a dozen years or so, grins then says "You should be able to sense him soon, even though he is shielded".
The young elven noble who is from the island principality of Laerel grins as he knows exactly what the ground pixie is referring to.
The mageglobe created by Mira Reinholt that just blew up within the grounds of the palace of the duke of Phelm.
Had one specific task to do, along with making a lot of noise and colour as it came to the end of it's fairly brief existence.
And that task was to tag those it basically blew up. In particular any spellcasters. Though one in actuality. As it's rather fitting considering it homed in all that person just before it exploded at the end of it's life.
That person being sir Yarrim the sorcerer.
The mageglobe left untold little miniscule bits of magic floating in the air at it's death. And when the sorcerer Yarrim dropped his depleted barrier and protection spells.
The miniscule bits of magic which are too small to sense unless you know what to look for.
Fell upon those who were caught up in the explosion. Especially anyone who is a spellcaster. In this case, sir Yarrim from the border region in the south of the duchy of Phelm.
Helbe the elven thief grins again as he suddenly senses the sorcerer Yarrim. Who thinks he's undetected by other spellcasters due to being shielded. But the highly talented elven magic user knows what to sense and look for.
The elven princeling who himself is shielded, along with being blurred, murmurs "What's that?".
"Teleport" is the quick reply of Narladene the ground pixie, who then tells the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel "He's heading north through the city".
"Now isn't that interesting" quietly says the elven master assassin, who with the naturally magical creature clinging onto his right shoulder. He shifts away before sir Yarrim is even able to complete his teleport spell within the grounds of the ducal palace. A teleportation spell which will take the sorcerer further north into the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
Sir Yarrim and two of his men disappear for a few heartbeats before they reappear upon the roof of a building in the northern quarter of the city.
The sorcerer who could barely see their destination from the palace of the duke of Phelm. Is totally oblivious to the minute particles of magic he and his two men are covered with.
Him especially, due to the fact that he acted like a magnet with iron filings in close proximity to it. As in, like attracts like as the old saying goes.
Practitioners of magic tend not to sense themselves. As there's no particular reason to do so.
And the fact you have to know what to sense for. Makes it doubly impossible for the nobleborn sorcerer to know what he's covered in.
"Looks the wall has been badly damaged in places" says one of the sorcerer's men who points away to the top of the north wall of the city which is about a quarter of a mile away from where they are on top of a roof of a four storey building.
Sir Yarrim nods his head as he looks up and down the length of the north wall of Almaic.
Even from where they are, they're able to hear the sounds of the battle beyond the north wall of the provincial capital. Even over the noise of the thundering booms coming from the magetubes firing every once in a while.
The sorcerer who is trying to locate a mage who sent a mageglobe into the grounds of the ducal palace . Finds it a little odd that a mage isn't easily located.
That's the main driving point of all mages. They and their vasts amounts of power like to be known and seen.
But apparently this mage is hiding himself somewhere. Where? Yarrim the sorcerer isn't exactly sure where.
"Keep an eye out for anything odd" says sir Yarrim to his men, who are amongst a number of his household, he's taught to keep an eye out for things that are deemed to be odd, in a magical sense.
The sorcerer who is shielded, which he assumes is keeping him hidden from other spellcasters, says to his two guards "Let's go". Then he teleports away with them.
Helbe the elven thief, along with Narladene the ground pixie, who are on a rooftop not far from the one sir Yarrim was just on.
Look towards the top of the north wall of Almaic, where the sorcerer Yarrim and his two guards are just about to appear after teleporting.
After they do, prince Helbenthril Raendril quietly says to the naturally magical creature "They've just made their first major mistake of the battle".
Narladene nods her tiny head in agreement with that, just before the elven magic user shifts them away . . . . . .

The Hire 95.

Northern Nastell. The City Of Almaic...

"Hmmmm" murmurs Dorc da Orc as he pops his head up over broken bits of fortification, and looks at the north wall of the city of Almaic.
The large ork looks to where he knows a magetube is somewhere on the ground, just out from the wall.
The ork warleader can't see it at the moment, as the enemy still have too many battlelines between him and it.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grins as he contemplates getting his hands upon the magical weapon that was blasted from the top of the wall during an earlier explosion.
Then Dorkindle grunts, and looks away to the right, as next to him, Teabagger the goblin Cunt says "Boss, er general, we've got to hold up" followed by "We're getting a bit too far ahead".
The ork weaponsmith scowls, then remembering why they're taking a measured approach through the enemy battlelines. And remembering that he helped come up with the idea. He grunts in a positive manner to the goblin commander.
"We fucken stops here for a bit" declares Dorc da Orc, Teabagger nods then starts calling out orders in goblin for the battalion to halt their progress towards the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm, here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
The large ork, who is the son of the former matriarch of his tribe, the wolf tribe. Glares up at sun in the clear morning sky, on what's turning out to be another warm summer's day here in the duchy of Phelm.
Then he sits down on the ground, with his back against the dirt and wood fortification that the enemy were using. It offers a little bit of shade for the big burly ork.
Who though has been out of his home range in the southern polar region of the world for over twenty years now. He's still hasn't acclimated to the warmer climes here in the Southlands.
And never truly will, as his body physiology isn't really acquitted to dealing with the warmer temperatures found north of the southern polar region.
The ork who was named warleader of his race, over a decade ago by lord Farque. Looks away to the west. Where on that flank is the company led by captain Weldin.
The captain and his soldiers, all of whom are in the Farqian mercenary army like the goblin battalion that has Dorc da Orc as it's general.
Are still making their way forward through the enemy battlelines, not yet up to where the ork warleader and the goblin battalion are.
It's the same on the east flank, another company in the Farqian army are making their way through the enemy battlelines too.
Those two companies, along with the goblin battalion. Are all part of the forward elements in the army led by the young field commander Tamric Drubine.
The bulk of which is still further to the north, and have yet to engage with the enemy and take part in the battle.
As it is with the army led by field commander Leivyn. Which is also here to the north of the city of Almaic. Though positioned further to the west than commander Drubine's army.
As an energyball from their own lines passes overhead, and a bit to the right of them as it makes it's way towards the north wall of Almaic.
Teabagger the goblin Cunt says "We're making good progress general". The small, bright, lurid green goblin who commands the battalion of goblins in the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
Has to constantly remind his general not to rush too far ahead. As the big, burly ork who hails from the very bottom of the world. Is always eager to get into the very thick of the fighting in a battle.
So far the ork warleader, for the most part. Has done so, much to the delight of the goblin commander. Who knows exactly how hard it is to get the large ork to do what you want him to do. Or at least something fairly close to what you want him to do.
"Still early, not even midmorning yet general" says Teabagger who continues with "And we're almost halfway to the city walls".
Dorc da Orc grunts as he wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his big, meaty right forearm.
"Yeah cunt, good progress" says that ork weaponsmith, who pronounces the word progress as po-guess. Which isn't particularly unusual, as he has difficulty saying any word in the common language that has more than one syllable.
The ork warleader who is of the opinion that the only language in the world is the ork language. And every other language is just you flapping your mouth, and making noises that come out.
Grunts as the small, bright green goblin sitting near him quietly says in the common language "We might get to the wall sometime this morning general".
The large ork grunts once more as he hopes so. As there's a bit more shade at the base of the wall in comparison to out here in the open ground, within the battlelines of duke Hargen's army, who are defending the north side of the city of Almaic.
Then the two of them pause, as they hear with their naturally enhanced hearing, the familiar sound of a catapult firing.
They get up, turn and look towards the city. And see a load from a catapult upon that top of the north wall of Almaic. Fly through the air to the east of them.
The rocks and broken bits of a masonry. For the most part fly over, and crash upon the ground behind the Farqian mercenary army company over there.
"They getting the fucken range" mutters Dorkindle, Teabagger nods then quietly says "They'll have to be careful doing that" the goblin commander continues with "They don't want to go short and hit their own men".
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts to that, then does so again when the small, bright green goblin quietly adds "At least they can't shoot those magetubes at us".
As the angle doesn't allow it, since they're closer to the north wall of the city.
Just then one, then another of the magetubes up on the top of the north wall of Almaic fire shots. One of which goes off towards the bulk of the army led by field commander Leivyn.
While the other, a ball of dark red, pure magical energy, about twelve feet in width.
Passes not to far away to the east of the badly damaged fortification that the ork general and a number of the goblin battalion are behind. As it makes it's way towards the army that's led by field commander Drubine.
"Me gonna fucken gets that one on the ground" murmurs the large ork is his total incomprehensible native language, as he sits back down in the shade.
Next to him, the goblin commander sits down too. Though not to close to the big, burly ork, who stinks more than usual as he refuses to take off the rain poncho some of the battalion made for him out off the side of a tent.
Teabagger, hears some of the others in the battalion say something in the goblin language.
The commander of the battalion of goblins in the Farqian mercenary army looks away to the west behind them. And spots a runner coming their way from company led by captain Weldin.
"General" quietly says the small, bright green goblin who then adds "A messenger".
Dorc da Orc grunts as he looks to where the battalion commander points, and he sees the runner coming their way.
Avoiding arrows shot at him by the enemy in the battlelines further ahead, closer to the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
The messenger comes sliding in next to the ork general and the goblin commander.
Breathing heavily, the runner who is part of the scouts and rangers division in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, says "Warleader" and "Commander" to the two of them. Dorkindle grunts, then says to the young man "What is it cunt?".
Then the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Along with the small, bright green goblin who is originally from the southern kingdom of Melaurn.
Listen in silence as the runner tells his message to them. The ork weaponsmith frowns as he listens.
Then he grunts and says "Yeah cunt" after the runner has delivered his message, then asked him "Understood warleader?".
The messenger nods, and after Teabagger wishes him luck. He gets up and takes off running towards the company to the east of the goblin battalion. To give them the message, which comes from field commander Drubine.
"What do you think boss?" asks the goblin commander, who hastily adds "Er general".
The large ork, who is looking back at their army who have yet to advance, grunts, then tells the small, bright green goblin "Fucken s'pose".
Teabagger nods to that, then takes his water bottle from his belt and takes a drink from it, as they sit their in the shade offered by the near destroyed enemy fortification, and wait.
As they look back north towards the army that's made up predominantly of robber barons Almard and Larimer's armies, which is led by commander Drubine.
And as Dorkindle scratches his dreadlocked topknot, Teabagger quietly says "Looks like they're about to move general".
The warleader of the ork race sees this, then tells the battalion commander "Tell the cunts to get ready to go again".
The small goblin, who is a bright, lurid green colour. Calls out an order in the goblin language. And the battalion prepare to advance on the order from their general, and their commander.
Dorc da Orc and Teabagger stand up, and as the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks looks ahead towards the enemy battlelines ahead of them, then the city of Almaic itself.
The battalion commander keeps an eye on the army to the north led by the young field commander, Tamric Drubine.
"Front ranks are readying" says Teabagger as he continues to look back at their army.
The large ork nods as he looks towards the top of the north wall of the city. Where he sees the enemy, has also seen that the army led by the young field commander Tamric Drubine, is about to advance.
As soldiers and mercenaries in duke Hargen's army scurrying about. As more of them move to the east side of the parapet. As commander Leivyn's army further to the west. Is staying put for the meantime.
"They're moving boss, er general" says the small, bright green goblin who fails to keep the excitement out of his voice.
Dorkindle nods as he quickly looks back at their army, and sees the front ranks advancing. The reaction from the top of the wall is as predicted. Magetubes start shooting at the army of the robber barons Almard and Larimer. Which is commanded by the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin, Tamric Drubine.
"Give the order cunt" says the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks as he looks towards the enemy battlelines infront of them, as well as the city of Almaic.
"Advance!" shouts out Teabagger in the goblin language. And that's what the battalion of goblins, and their ork general do. They continue their advance upon the enemy battlelines.
As Teabagger hurries around the destroyed fortification. Dorc da Orc just hauls himself up onto the wreckage of wood and dirt. And rolls down the otherside.
The big, burly ork from the bottom of the world mutters to himself in his native language as he rolls, then once down, he gets to his feet.
And runs forward, as do the goblins who have run around the destroyed fortification. They charge towards the next of the enemy lines.
Arrows and bolts come flying their way from the fortifications ahead. And catapults fire away from the top of the north wall of Almaic. As do magetubes.
The catapults shots will miss, and pass overhead. As will the magetube shots. Which are bound for the army led by the field commander Drubine, which is now advancing.
But there's no avoiding the arrows and bolts coming their way. Especially Dorc da Orc, who at seven and half foot in height. And weighing in excess of seven hundred and fifty pounds. He's the single largest target on the battlefield by far.
The ork warleader doesn't particularly care. As arrows and bolts are more of a nuisance to him, than anything else.
Hardly ever doing any damage to him. Unless they hit him in a sensitive spot. Usually in the face. Or an earlobe. Which he hates getting shot in.
Most of the battalion keep clear of the general when he's out in the open like this. Since he's such an easy target.
Not so Teabagger, who runs right behind the large ork. Who might be the biggest target by far on the battlefield. He's also effectively the best shield one could have.
The small, bright green goblin knows he's pretty safe right behind the ork warleader. Apart from his sense of smell, which is assaulted by the stench coming off the big, burly ork he's so close to.
Dorc da Orc isn't in the open for very long, he's soon at the next of the enemy battlelines.
And he shouts "Get some!" as he runs head first into a wall of dirt and wood of one of the palisades that makes up the next temporary fortification that's been built just outside the north wall of the city of Almaic, the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
As the battle continues to rage on, this warm summer's morning here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell . . . . . .

The Hire 94.

The Duchy Of Phelm. The City Of Almaic...

"Hmmm" murmurs Helbe the elven thief as he looks across at a wall along one side of the ducal palace here in the city of Almaic.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user who is sitting upon a rooftop opposite the palace. Glances up at the clear, morning sky before he goes back to looking at the wall, which is on the west side of the palace.
"Are you sure?" quietly asks the young elven noble who is from the island principality of Laerel.
"Of course I'm sure" is the snappish response from Narladene the ground pixie who is sitting upon the right shoulder of the elven master assassin she's attached to.
"Damn if i can sense it" murmurs the elven masterthief, who happens to be a member of the royal family that rules Laerel.
Prince Raendril of Laerel's youngest grandson then quietly says "That sorcerer might actually be pretty good after all".
The highly talented elven magic user, who has the unique ability to cast multiple spells at once. When most spellcasters of any race, or type. Can barely cast two spells simultaneously.
Knows that there's a large number of wards in and around the palace of the duke. Though he can't sense any, even though Narladene has informed him where they are. And just as importantly, what they are.
"He must of used a lot of power to lock all those spells" muses the elven princeling who is a member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"He did" says the naturally magical creature, who changes her mind with what she was about to say, and instead says "Another one coming in".
Narladene who has looked back behind them, adds "From the west again".
Helbe the elven thief who is sitting upon the roof of a merchant's rather large shop, opposite the west side of the ducal palace.
Turns his head and looks westward, and spots a rider on one of the streets further to the west. It's a messenger from the battlelines to the west of the city, who is heading to palace of the duke of Phelm.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user casually casts a spell upon the messenger. The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel. Grins as the rider turns at the next street to the north. And starts heading that way through the city of Almaic, instead of going to the ducal palace.
That rider is just one of about fifteen so far this morning. From all parts of the city, with the exception of the south of the city.
That prince Helbenthril Raendril has diverted, and sent elsewhere instead of to the palace that's the residence of duke Hargen of Phelm.
The elven master archer has sent about half that number of messengers, who have left the palace. In all directions instead of where they're intending to go.
Those within the palace, don't have much of an idea how the battle is going so far this morning.
"He's come back recently too" says Narladene who returns to what she was talking about, before she spotted the messenger from the western battlelines heading this way.
"Damn spellcasters using a shield spell" says the elven magic user with a shake of his head in disgust.
The ground pixie upon his right shoulder rolls her eyes. For that's exactly what the young elven noble is doing too. Shielding himself so other spellcasters are unable to sense him.
The tiny winged creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains, who attached herself to the elven princeling over a dozen years ago in the city of Leeabra, the capital of the kingdom of Druvic.
Looks away to the north through the city, and says to the elven masterthief "Mira has just taken out another of those magetubes on the north wall".
The elven magic user nods his hooded head, as it sounds like things are more or less going to plan so far this morning with the attack upon the city of Almaic, the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril is just about to say something to Narladene when he suddenly thinks of something.
"Mira" murmurs the elven master assassin who has been acting as the envoy to the robber barons of the unruled lands of the Colevar Mountains for the mercenary army from the lands Farque.
"What about him?" asks the ground pixie, who like all of her kind, is immune to magic.
"You think a mageglobe of his could get through those wards and into the palace?" asks the elven masterthief who stands up "Probably" says Narladene who then adds "If he creates the correct one".
The blurred and shielded elven magic user nods his hooded head then quietly says "Good enough" followed by "Besides i just want to get a reaction from this sir Yarrim, to see what he does".
The naturally magical creature nods her head to that, then she grabs a hold of the cloak on the right shoulder of the elven masterthief who she senses is about to cast.
Helbe the elven thief has one last look at the ducal palace, towards the pair of airships within the western side of the palace grounds.
Then he shifts away, heading north through the city that's the provincial capital here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
The elven magic user shifts four times, and stops upon a roof. And looks down into a fairly large square here in the north of Almaic.
And watches a company of city guards, leave their watch tower. And hurry away to the east of the city.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel gets the feeling most of those guardsmen have yet to see any actual battle time.
Figures the attack by the army led by general Halvane is about to commence upon the east side of Almaic.
The elven princeling shifts a couple hundred feet up into the air, and looks eastwards. And indeed, further to the north and east of the city, upon the river Mareb.
He sees all the rafts and barges that general Halvane's army have with them. Are in the water, or are being placed into the water.
"Well, there's going to be a little bit of smoke on the water over there" murmurs the elven master archer, who is still fairly young for an elf, especially a royal one, as he's still under two hundred and twenty years of age. A veritable youth for someone who could potentially live to be fifteen hundred years old.
The young elven noble who is a member of the personal council of lord Farque. Turns as he floats in midair, and looks away to the west.
And in the distance, he sees the war machines, the trebuchets in this instance. Under the command of the young engineer Tovis in the army led by field commander Talbot.
Rolling forward, to get closer to the battlelines of the defenders, who are between them and the west side of the city.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril watches the battle on that side of the city for a few moments, before he shifts away, heading northwards over the city of Almaic.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user prefers shifting than teleporting. For the simple reason it's far quicker to cast compared to a teleportation spell. True, you don't go nearly as far as you would if you teleported.
But since shifting is instantaneous, and hardly anyone knows of the spell. Which he thought of by himself. Though he has a feeling it's already a known spell. It makes up for lack of distance compared to a teleport spell.
The young elven noble can shift multiple times to somewhere far quicker than any other spellcaster of comparable power, or any level of power for that matter, who would teleport to the same place.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril goes by the highest point in the city of Almaic, old bell tower in the grounds of the church of Glaine as he continues northwards above the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
The elven masterthief eventually stops on a rooftop on one of the last buildings in the north of the city, just behind the north wall of Almaic, which is across a square from him.
The elven envoy who is a member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, looks along the wall that's warded on the otherside to protect it from those to the north of the city, attacking it.
The highly talented elven spellcaster spots the damage wrought by Mira Reinholt the mage, who has been able to get around the fairly strong wards upon the north wall of the city. By using mageglobes that he has created.
"Hmmm they've increased the wards and sent them downwards since i last checked on them" murmurs Helbe the elven thief "Because of Mira i gather?" asks the blurred and shielded elven magic user.
"He sent the first mageglobe he created underground" explains Narladene, who continues with "The next ones he's just sent up high over the city, and had them come back and attack the top of the wall from this side".
What i wouldn't do to be able to create things like those mageglobes, the elven masterthief thinks to himself. Which can only be created by mages, the most powerful, and the least abundant of human spellcasters.
Mageglobes which mages usually only ever create for lethal combat against other mages. One of the main reason for which, is so that other spellcasters keep well away from the powerful practitioners of magic, who are hell bent on trying to kill one another.
Not so the mage Reinholt. Who has used them all his magical life. Whenever, and wherever he likes. Even when he had all of his powers. When he was the most powerful mage of his generation in the Southlands. Making him one of the most powerful spellcasters too.
He'd create mageglobes to do whatever he wanted. Something severely frowned upon by other mages.
Who are not just the most powerful of all the human spellcasters. But also the most egotistical, and arrogant of not just human spellcasters. But all practitioners of magic.
You might have the kindest, and most caring of individuals in a particular mage. But once they start casting their magic, even their streak of arrogance would show through.
Not so Mira Reinholt, who was always arrogant and egotistical, no matter what. Though since losing the vast majority of his powers over a decade ago. The Vexilian mage has tempered his arrogance some what.
Though Helbe the elven thief knows he hasn't completely. And it's with that, the elven magic user is hoping the once powerful mage can help with something.
As the young elven noble knows a challenge appeals to the ego of the mage, who still to this day, was the youngest ever member of the mage council of Vexil. Part of the ruling body that runs the largest, and most populace city-state in all the Southlands.
Especially a magical challenge, which the elven princeling faces with the shielded and locked wards upon the ducal palace here in the city of Almaic.
The elven master archer spots the nearest magetube upon the top of the north wall of the city.
The elven practitioner of magic sees that it's being rolled to the right along the top of the wall by it's crew. To a better vantage point to fire upon those who are attacking Almaic from the north.
With a series of small, rather simple spells. Helbe the elven thief has one of the crew members trip up. While another smacks into one of the crenellations along the top of the wall, then falls flat on his face.
The thousand pound magetube on it's wheeled, wooden cradle. Starts rolling out of control. And as two of the crew members pushing it, try to keep it under control.
Another further along the barrel like tube, who is guiding it. Stumbles and trips. And is lucky not to get run over by the heavy, magical weapon.
Which is well and truly out of control now. And near the back edge of the top of the wall.
With the magetube being so heavy, and about eight feet long, the inevitable happens.
The magetube rolls off the back edge of the top of the wall. And falls to the square below. Narrowly missing those below. Before it smashes into the ground. Sending cobblestones and the ground beneath it flying.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel grins as he knows that particular magical weapon the enemy has been using, is pretty much useless now.
Unless they're able to hoist it back to the top of the north wall of the cuty. Or a powerful spellcaster amongst them all, comes along and levitates it back up to where it was previously.
With Narladene hanging on tight to his right shoulder again, prince Helbenthril Raendril shifts again. Going upwards first, to clear the north wall of Almaic and it's wards. Then out and away from the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
Floating nearly five hundred feet above the ground to the north of the city. Where below him, the battlelines of duke Hargen's army to this side of the city. Battlelines that have been infiltrated by the forward elements of some of the armies that have come down from the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains. Into the duchy of Phelm, to wage war upon it, and it's duke.
The elven masterthief looks northwards, to the northeast really. To the army that still has the bulk of it's forces there.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user as he floats there in the morning sky. Spots the individual he's looking for. The elven master assassin shifts again.
Mira Reinholt the mage who has just had a brief conversion with the young field commander Tamric Drubine.
Then stepped away from the nobleborn teenager and others in the senior staff of the young field commander.
Suddenly jumps in surprise as his fellow spellcaster, and fellow member of the personal council of lord Farque. Helbe the elven thief appears standing beside him.
The once powerful mage sourly smiles as the elven princeling quietly says to him with a grin upon his youthful looking face "That never gets tired".
"I bet" sourly says Mira Reinholt the mage, who then rolls his eyes when the young elven noble tells him "There's something i want you to do".
The mage who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil. Listens in silence as the elven masterthief explains to him what he wants done.
The mage Reinholt after slightly frowning, nods in understanding, then he quietly asks his fellow council member "What spells?".
The elven magic user names a number of spells, a dozen infact. Which gets the reaction of raised eyebrows from the mage who is also highly skilled swordmaster.
"That's a lot of wards" murmurs the Vexilian mage in exile. The elven princeling nods his hooded head in agreement. Then tells the once powerful mage the combination some of those spells are in.
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel who has told his fellow spellcaster they're around the ducal palace within the city of Almaic.
Is just about to tell him where specifically each ward is at the palace.
When the mage Reinholt interrupts him by saying "I don't need to know where they are" followed by "Just what they are".
The once powerful mage then adds "What you've already told me is fine enough" As he takes a hold of one the spell gems in a hidden pocket in his black, summer cloak. And drains some of the power it holds.
"It doesn't have to fly off as fast as they usually do" says Helbe the elven thief, who continues with "I want to get back there, and see what happens when it goes in".
Mira Reinholt nods his hooded head as he holds out his right hand and creates a mageglobe in it.
It takes a few moments, but eventually a plum sized, almost multi coloured mageglobe sits in the right palm of the the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
The exiled Vexilian mage flings the living piece of magic into the air. It starts to slowly rise straight up into the sky, then starts heading to the west.
"You better get going" says Mira Reinholt. The young elven noble who was beside him has already gone.
Helbe the elven thief who is blurred again, has shifted up into the morning sky above the battlelines.
He looks around, and upon his right shoulder, Narladene the ground pixie points to the mageglobe created by the mage Reinholt. Which is gaining speed as it rises upwards, and to the west.
The elven magic user shifts again, heading back into the city, and to the ducal palace, or to exact, right next to it, where he was observing it previously.
There he'll wait for the arrival of the mageglobe that was just created by Mira Reinholt to go into the palace of the duke, without being noticed . . . . . .