The Hire 145.

The Kingdom Of Nastell...

"He just went through another gateway" says Narladene the ground pixie, who sighs while Helbe the elven thief mutters "Damn cleric".
The young elven noble looks around at the surrounding countryside as night falls around them.
The elven magic user then quietly says "I wonder if we're still in Phelm?". "Who knows?" replies the naturally magical creature who is standing upon the right shoulder of the elven masterthief who she's attached to.
After going off to inform the spellcasters on one of the warships in their fleet that's on patrol in the southwest of the duchy of Phelm. And getting them to pass onto the krean strikeship the Fídiablo what the elven princeling is up to, and who he's after.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel and Narladene from the Sunreach Mountains, resumed their search for the cleric named Beldane.
Who was shown to the highly talented elven spellcaster through his powers of foresight, to be part of lord Farque's plans to resurrect the armies of Farque.
Which four and half centuries ago, were the most widespread and dominant military force in all the Southlands.
"That weapon of his again?" asks the young elven noble who is from the island principality of Laerel, and is now a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
"Yeah" sourly replies Narladene, who can no longer sense their quarry, as he's even out of her range again.
"To the southwest again?" asks the elven master assassin as he starts walking, the ground pixie nods her tiny head and sourly smiles in reply to that question from the elven magic user she's attached to.
"Let's stop and think about this for a moment" says the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel as he tops a rise, while night settles around them.
The elven master archer as he looks away to the southwest, who isn't affected by the lack of light, as he can see just as clearly at nighttime, as he can see during the day.
Sees how wild the countryside looks in that direction. It has been for the last little while, as they've left the farmland and small settlements in the southwest of Phelm, far behind them now.
"It's obviously sending him through a gateway when it thinks he's threatened, as i get closer" says Helbenthril Raendril "But not all the time" says Narladene the ground pixie.
The highly talented elven spellcaster who is holding his power within himself, nods his hooded head, and quietly says "But not all the time".
"So it can obviously sense me even when I'm holding my power within" quietly adds the elven masterthief who is a member of the ruling family of the principality of Laerel.
"But it doesn't send him through a gateway every time i get closer to wherever he is" murmurs the elven princeling, the tiny winged creature nods her head in agreement with him.
"Think it lacks power to do it every time?" asks the naturally magical creature in a tone of doubt.
"Personal magical weapons don't work like that" quietly says Helbe the elven thief, councilor Raendril continues with "All of them are just like Percy's or Tam's swords, they work when you use them, and don't when you're not using them" he quietly adds "Even the ones with a mind of their own".
Narladene nods to that, as that's her basic understanding of personal magical weapons too.
"So he's got to be using it then?" asks the ground pixie who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains, who first met the elven princeling she's attached to over a dozen years ago, in the city of Leeabra, the capital of the kingdom of Druvic.
"Or just holding it, which will trigger it's power i guess" murmurs the young elven royal who hails from the principality of Laerel, which is an island off the coast of the Southlands.
Infact it's the largest island off the coast of the Southlands. Located off the coast of southern Farque, and the kingdom of Melaurn.
The elven masterthief quickly looks at Narladene, who is unable to be sensed by their quarry, or his magical weapon.
"I want you do to something" says the member of lord Farque's personal council, who goes onto explain what he wants the ground pixie to do.
The tiny winged creature lifts a quizzical eyebrow as she listens to the highly talented elven spellcaster.
Then she nods in understanding once the elven master assassin explains what he wants her to do.
Looking at the moon Ilnari, the largest of the three moons of Volunell, that's rising up into the early evening sky.
Narladene says "Wait until that moon gets there in the night sky" as she points to a spot in the sky.
"How far?" asks Helbe the elven thief "Since he goes about the same distance each time through a gateway, I'd say about another fifteen miles from here straight to the southwest" replies the ground pixie.
The elven master archer nods his hooded head in understanding, and nods again when the naturally magical creature tells him "I'm off to find him".
Narladene drops off the right shoulder of the elven princeling, and falls into the ground. Where she takes off flying to the southwest. Moving far quicker than if she was flying through the air.
Councilor Raendril looks away to the southwest, and taking his time, he picks a spot in the distance, about a couple of miles away. And teleports to it. Once he's on a hilltop. Prince Helbenthril Raendril walks for a bit through the warm early evening. As it will take a bit of time for Narladene to locate then find their quarry, the cleric in the church of Glaine, Beldane.
"You're not going to send me off to who knows where again are you?" asks Beldane the cleric as he looks down at his mace.
The fighting cleric who is a member of the church of Glaine, puts a hand on the butt end of his mace.
He grunts in satisfaction as he doesn't go tumbling through a gateway, and remains where he is.
The churchman who has cast a small lightball to see by, sighs as he looks around and wonders where he is.
He knows he's definitely not in the duchy of Phelm anymore. And is more than likely in the duchy of Molnah. Which is to the south and west of Phelm.
He goes about making himself a camp for the night. Which he was doing previously at dusk, somewhere away to the east and north. Until he unconsciously put a hand on his mace, and the next moment he was falling forward through a gateway that suddenly appeared infront of him.
The cleric in the church of Glaine wryly smiles as he looks down at his mace in the loop on one side of his weapons belt.
A magical weapon that has a mind of its own, which will do whatever it likes when it comes to the protection of Beldane.
The member in the church of Glaine, who has travelled further and further away from the city of Almaic throughout the afternoon, and now the evening.
Is just glad the night is fairly warm, after the day that was hot and sunny, another hot day here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Beldane spots some trees where he can spend the night, and after finding a nearby stream to refill his water bottle. The spellcaster in the church of Glaine settles down for the night, beneath the overlapping branches of the trees.
The fighting cleric takes off his cloak that's more of a cape that's attached to his armoured shoulder plates.
And uses that to sit on, and which he'll eventually sleep on.
He loosens some of his armour, then sits there going through a number of silent devotions to his god, Glaine.
Then after his silent prayers, the member of the church that has the most popular god in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Goes about a number of metal exercises, to keep his mind sharp. As the day has been long and tiring.
Starting with the battle of Almaic from before dawn. To now, in the evening, here in the wilderness, most likely in the duchy of Molnah.
Which is well over eighty miles from the capital city of the duchy of Phelm, Almaic.
After going through a number of mental exercises, and not feeling hungry at all. As he had a quick meal of bread, cheese, fruit and a small flagon of cider when he visited the town of Duste in southwest Phelm.
Beldane puts a hand on his mace, and quietly murmurs "Any threats to me?".
And is relieved that he feels no warmth from the magical weapon, which he got when he was made a cleric in the church of Glaine.
The fighting cleric, a popular figure amongst the commoners in the capital city of the duchy of Phelm, Almaic. Even though he's got a loud voice at times.
Which he only really uses when he's in the company of those nobles he finds annoying. Which is quite a few of them. Starting with sir Yarrim the sorcerer. Who is good friends with the sorcerer Dominic. Who also happens to be one of Beldane's best friends.
Lies down on his back, after putting up some wards to protect himself from any wild animals and the like, that might out and about on the prowl tonight.
The member of the church of Glaine hopes he can get some rest tonight. And hopes that early in the morning, he can head back to the city of Almaic, the capital of Phelm.
That's if his magical mace lets him return to the city that's the provincial capital.
The fighting cleric looks up through the overhead trees, and studies the night sky for a bit, watching the stars directly above him, and seeing one of the moons, Ilnari. The largest of the three moons of Volunell, come into view.
After a while Beldane starts to drift off to sleep. And soon the cleric in the church of Glaine is asleep as he lies there on his cloak, beneath some trees.
Narladene quickly locates their quarry as she flies through the ground. The naturally magical creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains. Makes her way towards the cleric Beldane.
As she does, she continually senses for Helbe the elven thief. Who is more or less heading in the same direction as her. Though the young elven noble is taking his time as he teleports and shifts to the southwest.
The tiny winged creature pops her head up through the ground, and looks up into the night sky at the position of the moon Ilnari.
She drops back down into the ground, and continues on her way towards the south and west, heading towards where she can sense the cleric that she and prince Helbenthril Raendril are after.
A little while later, and Narladene comes up through the surface of the ground, and takes wing through the air.
She senses the cleric Beldane less than two hundred yards away. And back in the direction she's come from, she senses Helbe the elven thief is now almost fifteen miles from the spot she left him from.
As she flies through the air with her tiny gossamer wings fluttering faster than the eye can see. The ground pixie doesn't stop to talk to the animals and creatures out this night. Which she would ordinarily do.
For she usually finds the conversations with animals more stimulating than talking to a lot of people.
Instead she hurries towards where she can sense the cleric Beldane, who she soon finds sleeping beneath some trees on a slight rise, not far from a creek.
The naturally magical creature lands upon a nearby log, and watches the cleric.
She wryly smiles, and shakes her tiny head at the prospect of the cleric joining them. Which she predicts is going to be difficult. And that's putting it lightly.
For the simple reason this Beldane is a cleric, and lord Farque is undead. Two things that do not go well. As the cleric will inevitably see the deathlord as evil.
"Hell, if i know how this is going to work" mutters Narladene in the ground pixie language as she wonders how the cleric will get along with them, especially the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Then as the naturally magical creature looks at the sleeping cleric, and the mace he's still got on his belt loop. She senses that Helbe the elven thief has got to about fifteen miles from the spot she left him from.
The tiny winged creature looks up into the night sky at the moon Ilnari, and waits.
It's not too long, and Narladene briefly grins as she senses the elven magic user teleport in this direction again, and that the cleric remains where he is, just half a dozen yards away from her.
Realising that Beldane has to be either using his mace, or at least holding it for it to protect him, and send him out of harm's way.
The ground pixie sits down on the log she's standing on, and waits. As Helbe the elven thief continues on his way in this direction. Teleporting and shifting far more quickly than what he was doing previously.
Just a little while later, and as Narladene is contemplating striking up a conversation with a night owl that's landed on a branch of one of the trees that the cleric Beldane is beneath. And she senses prince Helbenthril Raendril just a handful of miles away now.
The cleric in the church of Glaine rolls over in his sleep, and his right hand falls upon his mace.
"Shit" exclaims Narladene as she suddenly senses what's happening. As one moment Beldane the cleric is lying there on the ground. The next moment, there's a gateway right beneath him.
And he and his cloak, and everything on him, falls through the magical gateway created by his mace, which sensed a magical threat approaching.
Narladene sighs as she just gets to where the cleric was lying asleep. And the gateway disappears. She didn't even get a chance to see the otherside of it. Though she does sense the direction it went. To the southwest again. And as she senses that way, she is unable to sense the cleric Beldane anymore. And she knows that she'll have to go in that direction to locate him again.
"Damn" mutters Narladene, who drops down into the ground, and heads back to where she can sense Helbe the elven thief to tell him what's happened.
Meanwhile, Beldane the cleric after hitting the ground after falling a few feet. Unwraps himself from his cloak that he's tangled up in.
He eventually sits up, and looks around, creating a small lightball as he does so.
The fighting cleric wryly smiles as he finds himself sitting upon a grassy hill, no where near where he was previously. Exactly where, he has no idea.
Beldane sighs, then spreads his cloak out on the ground and lies down on it after putting up some wards again.
He wonders if he'll be able to get some meaningful sleep tonight without his mace sending him through a gateway again. He rather doubts it . . . . . .