The Hire 139.

The Duchy Of Phelm...

Helbe the elven thief appears upon a small hill behind a farmhouse, not far from a road that continues to the southwest through the duchy of Phelm.
Narladene the ground pixie immediately drops off his right shoulder.
And as the young elven noble senses towards the south and west. The naturally magical creature senses through the ground.
"Sense him yet?" asks Narladene the ground pixie after flying back up to the right shoulder of the elven magic user.
"He must be just out of my range" says Helbe the elven thief after shaking his head no in response to the question from the tiny winged creature.
Narladene slightly nods, then the ground pixie who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains says "He's in a village or small town".
The young elven noble who hails from the island principality of Laerel, nods his hooded head, then looks up into the sky to the west, and after seeing the position of the sun, says "Getting late in the afternoon" followed by "It'll be getting onto early evening before we know it".
And as the ground pixie nods in agreement with highly talented elven spellcaster, the elven princeling says "Hopefully we catch up to him soon".
Then just as the elven masterthief is about to teleport again to the southwest, the naturally magical creature quietly tells him "That airship isn't too faraway now".
"Definitely ours is it?" asks the elven master assassin who is a member of the personal council of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"It is" replies the ground pixie, who continues with "I recognise the spellcasters onboard".
The young elven noble who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel, nods then dryly murmurs in the royal elven language which Narladene doesn't understand "Least i know who to get in contact with if things go wrong".
Then looking away to the southwest, the highly talented elven magic user disappears as he teleports again.
A few moments later, and prince Helbenthril Raendril appears in a field near the road. As he does, he senses in the direction they're heading. The elven spellcaster blinks in surprise, as he momentarily senses his quarry, who suddenly disappears from the magical senses of the elven princeling.
"What the hell?" mutters councilor Raendril, who has been acting as the envoy between the mercenary army from the lands Farque, and the five robber barons of the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains who have banded together to wage war upon duke Hargen of Phelm, here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
"Er" says Narladene the ground pixie, who after a brief pause says "He's gone".
The elven master archer sourly smiles and says in a tone to match his smile "I figured that".
"Through another gateway" says the naturally magical creature who attached herself to the highly talented elven magic user over a dozen years ago. Right after she first met him, in the city of Leeabra, the capital of the kingdom of Druvic.
"That weapon of his" adds the ground pixie who hails from the Sunreach Mountains, who follows that with "The magical mace".
"Great" sarcastically says prince Helbenthril Raendril, who then asks the tiny winged creature standing upon his right shoulder "Which way?".
"Still to the south and west" is the reply from Narladene "Well at least we're going in the right direction" dryly says Helbe the elven thief, who then silently adds, who knows if I'll ever catch up to him.
Beldane the cleric made his way into the town of Duste. The town he was first assigned to by the church of Glaine when he made the rank of cleric.
Many of the townsfolk and from the surrounding farms who were in town this afternoon. Were the same people from a decade ago when the powerful cleric was living here.
They warmly welcomed the cleric they knew so well. Who is a bit stuck at the moment, as his mace, which is magical, and has a mind of its own. Won't create a gateway so that he can return to the city of Almaic, and the battle that's taking place there.
And it's this what the townsfolk ask the powerful cleric about. As they've heard their duchy has been invaded by the forces of the robber barons of the unruled lands in the southern reaches of the Colevar Mountains.
Beldane informed them that the enemy had laid siege to the capital Almaic. And that the baron's forces are repelling them.
Well, they were when the powerful cleric was still there. Before he was caught up in an explosion, which he escaped as his mace created a gateway that he fell through as he was blasted off the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
As he speaks to the gathered crowd of townsfolk and others from the surrounding farmlands. He sees a number of them that he knows well, from his time here a decade ago.
The shopkeeper and his wife. And their two children, both of whom are young adults now. The daughter who Beldane healed from a accident that broke her legs. Smiles as she listens to the member of the church of Glaine.
There's the farmer who Beldane corrected his broken foot that hadn't been seen to properly when it was first broken.
Next to him is the couple who have the orchard to the west of town. With them are two small children, who must be their grandchildren.
While behind them is the town's blacksmith, who grins when the powerful cleric looks his way.
And though Beldane spent just two years here in Duste. Where he administered the word of Glaine to the townsfolk and those in the surrounding countryside.
He became extremely popular with them. And not just because of his healing abilities.
He spoke for them when dealing with the local noble. Who Beldane has seen in the capital over the last two days. Who only arrived there with a token number of men from his estate's garrison.
And though the local noble is fairly well liked. He wasn't as popular as the powerful cleric when he was living here.
It's one of the reasons why the local noble didn't request a replacement for Beldane when he was reassigned by the church of Glaine. There's now a lay churchman from the local temple of Sairé in the town of Specq. Which is in the estates of the local lord who tends to the faithful here in Duste.
It's not often someone from another church or temple is given such a position who isn't a member of the church of Glaine. Since the worship of Glaine is the most popular god or goddess here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
After speaking to the gathered crowd, and they start to move off. Beldane speaks with a few of them individually.
And after he speaks with the orchard owners. As he's speaking with the blacksmith Zarl, who informs him that he's got another new apprentice.
That Beldane spots the young window Magwin. Who was watching him speak earlier. But he didn't see her as she watched him from within one of the nearby homes.
Seeing who has got the attention of Beldane, the blacksmith Zarl as they stand infront of his smithy and workshop, quietly says "Ah" followed by "She's remarried you know".
The powerful cleric looks sharply at him, and the blacksmith slightly winces then quietly says "I'd thought you'd aught to know".
"Who to?" quietly asks Beldane the cleric "A merchant's son who moved here from the capital about six years ago" says the blacksmith, who is the archetype of his profession, large and muscular as he stands there in his leather apron in the shade of the overhang in the front of his smithy.
"Sorry" quietly says Zarl who was born and lived all his life here in the town of Duste.
Beldane nods when he hears this, not knowing what to say as he watches Magwin talking to a couple of other townsfolk.
"You know, you could of married her" quietly says Zarl, who continues with "It's not as though your church bans you priests and clerics from marrying like some other churches and temples".
After a few moments of silence, the powerful cleric nods, then quietly says "I know" he silent for a few more moments, then adds "I was young, and didn't know what to do".
"Ah well, it's in the past now father" says Zarl who always found it weird to call Beldane by that honorific, especially when he was only eighteen when he was sent to Duste by his church. Though looking at the powerful fighting cleric now in his armour and vestments, it seems a bit more fitting now
"Yes the past" says Beldane as he watches the woman, who around his age, he fell in love with when he lived here in Duste a decade ago.
"Children?" quietly asks the member in the church of Glaine, who earlier this afternoon was fighting to protect the city of Almaic, who now finds himself in a town nearly forty miles to the southwest of the capital.
"Yes two little ones" is the reply of the large blacksmith, the powerful cleric nods when he hears that, and refrains from sighing at what could of been.
"Maybe I'll just go and have a word with her" says Beldane "You want me to come along with you?" asks Zarl in concern "No, it should be fine" says the cleric in the church of Glaine, who then silently adds, i hope.
The fighting cleric moves away from the smithy, as he does, he unconsciously rests a gauntleted hand on his mace. All of a sudden he steps into nothingness, and finds himself falling. He immediately realises he's falling through a gateway.
Beldane falls about three or four feet, and lands on a grass covered hillside. He looks up, and finds a stunned looking Zarl the blacksmith looking down through the otherside of the gateway. Which disappears just as suddenly as it appeared.
As he sits there on the ground, not knowing where he is. The powerful cleric sourly smiles as he looks at his mace and says "Was i in danger?".
He feels a slight bit of warmth coming from the magical weapon.
"From Magwin?" asks Beldane in surprise. There's no warmth from the mace after that.
The fighting cleric grunts, then says "Some other threat?". He gets a slightly warm feeling from the magical weapon there.
"Great" mutters the member of the church of Glaine, who then sighs, lets go of the mace on his belt loop, and stands up and looks around.
Beldane isn't exactly sure where he is. But the surrounding countryside looks vaguely familiar. And by the position of the sun in the late afternoon sky. Here's even further south and west of Almaic.
He's pretty sure he's a similar distance from Duste as it's from the capital Almaic. Which if his knowledge of the local terrain is correct. Makes him outside the duchy of Phelm now.
The powerful cleric sighs once more, then mutters to himself "I'm never going to get back at this rate".
"How far?" asks Helbe the elven thief after he reappears after teleporting again, and asks Narladene how far away she thinks their quarry is now.
"At least another twenty five miles" says Narladene the ground pixie again, who after a slight pause, continues with "And i mean at least that from where he went through this latest gateway" she then adds "Because that's how far i can sense, and I'm unable to sense him, just the direction the gateway took him".
"Oh you're fucking shitting me" mutters the young elven noble in the royal language of the elves, who continues muttering in that language with "I'm never going to catch him if he keeps disappearing through a damn gateway".
"What was that?" asks the ground pixie in the regular elven language "Nothing" is the reply from prince Helbenthril Raendril in the same language, who then sighs as he figures out what to do.
Then looking away to the north, the highly talented elven magic user asks the tiny winged creature on his right shoulder "Were exactly is that airship of ours?".
"There" says the naturally magical creature who points to the warship in the distance to the north.
When the elven master assassin spots it with his farsight, he says "Come on" followed by "I guess someone aught to know what's going on and what we're up to".
Narladene winces as she realises who that someone Helbe the elven thief is referring to.
A little bit later in the afternoon, and a good sixty miles to the northwest of the city of Almaic. Onboard the krean strikeship Fídiablo. Captain Kalrisian looks over at the chief navigator who has all of a sudden muttered "Fuck".
Most of the those in the wheelhouse look at the chief navigator in surprise, as he's usually a taciturn individual who rarely swears, especially when he's on duty and in the wheelhouse.
The captain of the Fídiablo clears his throat as he looks at the chief navigator. Who along with the other navigators, has taken a break from observing the battle of Almaic through a viewing spell.
To get in contact with the other airships of their fleet throughout the north of the kingdom of Nastell, as they do every day at this time, late in the afternoon.
"What is it?" asks captain Kalrisian, the chief navigator looks out one of the windows in the front of the wheelhouse, then he turns to his captain and instead of telling him out loud, he explains to him via mindspeech what he's just found out from one of the vessels in the fleet that's patrolling in the southwest of Phelm.
The dragon like features of a krean can be very expressive at times. And when the wheelhouse crew see their captain suddenly grimace, they know something is up.
"You want me to come along with you?" asks the chief navigator after he's told the strikeship's captain via mindspeech what's happened.
"No I'll do it by myself" says captain Kalrisian who then says to the crew in the wheelhouse "Carry on" before he steps out one of the side doors, and makes his way forward along the mastless deck of the Fídiablo.
Standing in the bow of the krean strikeship, lord Farque and the senior wardog handler Jessup and the scout Dargaven are quietly discussing the battle away to the south at the city of Almaic. Which they've observed on and off throughout the day thanks to spellcraft of the krean navigators.
"They've had it easy so far, this is the first hurdle they've really come across in the campaign to date" quietly says Jessup the senior wardog handler, who then adds "This battle will take longer than they expect".
The scout Dargaven nods his head in agreement with the senior wardog handler as the three of them stand there looking away to the southeast.
They fall silent as they hear and sense captain Kalrisian approaching them along the deck of the mastless strikeship.
"My lord" says the ship's captain, who when the three undead turn around, find him on one knee.
As both Jessup and Dargaven lift a questioning eyebrow, lord Farque says in the krean language "Rise captain" followed by "What is it?".
Taking a deep breath as he stands, captain Kalrisian who would rather have his wings clipped, then get shoved off the deck of the Fídiablo than what he's about to do.
Says a silent prayer to the sky gods of his people. Which is rather appropriate considering what he's about to say.
Then he explains the message they've received from one of the other warships in the fleet.
Jessup's draw drops open in surprise, while Dargaven from behind his full helm just stares in disbelief after captain Kalrisian finishes speaking.
While the ship's captain who has just done the bravest thing in his entire life. Wonders if he's still going to be alive in the next moment or two.
"What the fuck?" mutters Jessup, who falls silent as lord Farque lifts a gauntleted hand. Then the senior wardog handler and the scout move. Nodding for captain Kalrisian to come with them.
They walk back across the deck, towards the wheelhouse. And the captain of the krean strikeship feels the temperature suddenly drop behind them.
He sees one of the undead wardogs who has it's head sticking up from a ladder, suddenly drop down out of sight. While the other one, which is beside the wheelhouse, get up and hurry around behind it.
Captain Kalrisian wonders if he'll even have a ship left in a moment. For when he enters the wheelhouse and looks out one of the windows, and along the deck.
He sees the large, heavily armoured figure of the undead warlord. Glowing faintly blue as tendrils of cold vapour comes off him as he stands there in the bow looking away to the south . . . . . .