Aftermath 27.

The Kaldel Plains...

Early in the morning, and a bleary eyed Mira Reinholt the mage looks at Helbe the elven thief who is quietly telling him "Narladene has found something just ahead".
"Where?" grunts Mira Reinholt the mage as he rubs his eyes after being woken up by the young elven noble.
"About three or four miles away in the direction we're going" is the reply of the elven magic user who continues with "Near one of those waypoints the plainsmen camp at".
The once powerful mage nods, then after he yawns as he stands there in the gloomy predawn light, he says "We'll head there soon" the mage Reinholt looks around, then dryly says "Once everyone is awake".
The elven masterthief nods his hooded head, then he disappears as he shifts away.
While his fellow spellcaster, and fellow member of the personal council to lord Farque. Mira Reinholt sourly looks at Dorc da Orc who is lying on the ground away from everybody else and the jolly boat.
The large ork who is snoring loudly as usual. Is always the most difficult to wake up. Even sir Percavelle Lé Dic, a heavy sleeper himself. Who also snores in a loud manner. Is easier to wake up than the big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world.
"By the shape of fire" mutters the mage who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil, at the prospect of waking up the ork warleader.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster looks around, and spots Teabagger the goblin Cunt fast asleep under a blanket in the lee of the small airboat.
Mira Reinholt faintly smiles, as he knows the small, bright green goblin is always willing to help him wake up the large ork. Usually with a hammer, which he'll hit his general in the head with a number of times until he finally wakes up.
As the Vexilian mage in exile makes his way over to Teabagger, to wake up the goblin commander.
Helbe the elven thief teleports. It takes longer to cast than a shift spell. But he can travel longer distances by teleporting compared to shifting.
Eventually after teleporting a handful of times, the young elven noble who hails from the island principality of Laerel gets to the waypoint as another day dawns on the Kaldel Plains.
As the sun comes up over the horizon in the east on the cool morning here at the very end of summer. The elven master assassin looks around, and spots Narladene the ground pixie hovering in the air a couple hundred yards away. The elven magic user shifts to where she is.
"What is it?" asks Helbe the elven thief who is a member of the royal family that rules Laerel, infact he's the grandson of the ruling prince of that particular principality.
"Here look at this" says Narladene the ground pixie who drops down to the ground and points at something.
"What exactly am i looking at?" asks the elven master archer as he looks closely at the ground.
"Come down and look at it" says the naturally magical creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains.
After rolling his eyes, prince Helbenthril Raendril drops down to his knees, then lies flat down when Narladene tells him "Lower".
The ground pixie then says "See it" followed by "I'm pretty sure it's that cleric as he the heaviest out of them with that plate armour he wears".
The elven magic user slowly nods his hooded head as he can now see the outline of footprints, to be exact boot marks.
"I see it" quietly says the member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who is also the envoy for the armies of Farque as they negotiate terms of hire with whoever it is that wants them fighting for them.
"This way" says the tiny winged creature, the elven masterthief gets up and follows her, and they go another fifty yards or so.
And once she stops, Narladene says "They disappear" she briefly pauses then adds "Through a gateway no doubt" she continues with "You can see the faint line in the grass and dirt where it was formed".
Helbe the elven thief winces when he hears that, and in the royal elven language which Narladene doesn't understand, he mutters "Fuck".
Then switching back to the regular elven language which they converse in, the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel says "They can't of gone more than a couple hundred miles at most".
"To somewhere the cleric knows" says the naturally magical creature who attached herself to the elven princeling when they met in the city of Leeabra, the capital of the kingdom of Druvic a number of years ago.
"To somewhere the cleric knows" murmurs the elven princeling as he repeats what the ground pixie just said.
Then the elven master assassin turns and walks back towards the waypoint, as he does he takes out a map of the Kaldel Plains, and says to Narladene who has landed on his right shoulder "Well, at least they're no longer on horseback so that's something". As they both know that Beldane the cleric can't create a gateway large enough to allow a horse and rider to pass through.
The young elven noble who is the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel studies the map as he walks, and after a moment he says "There" as he points at a spot on a map that indicates a town. It's about two hundred and twenty miles north of the waypoint he's walking towards.
The naturally magical creature who hails from the Sunreach Mountains  as she looks down at the map the highly talented elven spellcaster has opened, and is looking at, mutters "Bugger".
"What?" asks councillor Reinholt as he reaches the waypoint, and sits upon the pyramid shaped, pile of rocks as the sun continues to rise in the east across the Kaldel Plains, on this cool morning at the very end of summer.
The ground pixie drops down, and points to a spot just north of the town that Helbe the elven thief has indicated that Beldane has taken himself and the other three with him via a gateway.
"The village those wreckers are in is there" says Narladene who continues with "It must be about thirty miles north of that town" the tiny winged creature continues with "I overheard some of them talking about that town, seems they go down there and buy stuff they can't get from the airships they bring down".
The elven masterthief nods his hooded head, then murmurs "Makes sense". Then after folding up the map, and returning it to a hidden pocket in his cloak, he looks away to the south and west.
"Are they underway?" asks the elven princeling, the ground pixie who can sense a hell of a lot further than the elven magic user, tells him "Not yet".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril rolls his eyes, and a little bit later, Narladene eventually says "They're up and heading this way".
"About bloody time" mutters the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel as the two of them wait for the others in the jolly boat to show up.
They soon see the jolly boat come into view as it makes it's way towards them at the waypoint.
As the small airboat which is flying fairly low, less than a hundred feet above the ground,  gets closer. They can make out Dorc da Orc in the middle of the small flying vessel, rubbing the back of his head, with a slightly confused look upon his broad, green, brutish looking face.
Helbe the elven thief just shakes his hooded head, while Narladene the ground pixie rolls her eyes. As they both know someone must of had to whack the ork warleader in the head, repeatedly and with force to wake him up. On the back of the head, as the front of his thick head is harder than rock. Not that the back isn't hard, it's just less so than the front.
Both the young elven noble and the ground pixie suspect Teabagger the goblin Cunt did it. Probably with very little prompting from Mira Reinholt the mage.
The small, bright, green goblin who hails from the southern kingdom of Melaurn takes great delight in hitting his general. And takes every opportunity when it arises to do so.
The elven masterthief gets up from the pile of rocks he's been sitting on. And when the jolly boat gets closer, he shifts up to it.
"Might as well keep going" says Helbe the elven thief as he appears beside his fellow spellcaster the mage Reinholt, who is at the tiller of the small vessel.
"What was it?" asks Mira Reinholt who nods down at the waypoint where a couple of well used wagon routes cross.
"What did you find?" adds the once powerful mage who is originally from the city-state of Vexil.
The elven princeling informs him what Narladene found. And that the group of Tamric Drubine, Lisell Maera, Tovis the war engineer, and Beldane the cleric. Have gone through another gateway cast by the cleric in the church of Glaine.
A gateway that's taken them to a town further to the northeast. About two hundred and twenty miles away.
A town that's just to the south of the village that they know the illegal wreckers are using as a base. As Narladene has already been there.
"Damn, they could be there by now" says the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands. 
"More than likely" says prince Helbenthril Raendril who like his fellow spellcaster, is speaking in elven as he shows on his map, where the town is located. And the position of the village nearly thirty miles to the north of it, which isn't marked on the map.
"If they are there, let's hope they haven't done anything" says Darid Parsen the cavalry commander as he joins in on the conversation.
The third member of the personal council to lord Farque, who is onboard the jolly boat, continues with "They might get it into their heads, and take revenge for what happened to our warship".
The two spellcasters, the elven magic user and the once powerful mage share a look, as all three of them have already discussed this. And that there is a probability that Tamric Drubine might take measures in retaliation for what happened to their airship they were traveling on. Until it was taken down by a mage amongst the crew of illegal wreckers who are based in the northeast of the Kaldel Plains.
"Like I've said before, hopefully they won't" says the mage who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, something of an anomaly when it comes to human spellcasters, especially mages.
Who first and foremost, concentrate on their spellcasting abilities. Pouring all their effort and time into mastering that. Leaving nothing for any other advanced skills.
Not so the mage Reinholt, who started training with a sword when he was a young teen. Which he found helped him in his studies of magic.
Not that he'd ever tell another mage that. And the only mages he's ever met who are similar to him. Such as his youngest half sister Carice Reinholt. And the mage Van Der Linden from the lands Farque. Both of whom are masters of weapons too. Learnt this on their own.
Looking at the sail on the mast, the once powerful mage says "If we get a a good steady wind over the next two days, we should get to that town in a couple of days".
"A bit longer to that village to the north of it" says the highly talented elven magic user, who continues with "That leaves Tam and the others a little more than two days to keep out of trouble".
"That's if they're already there" says the cavalry commander, who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Darid Parsen.
"They're there" dryly says the Vexilian mage in exile, who continues with "I have no doubt of that".
The swordmaster Reinholt as he leans to starboard on the tiller, quietly says to his fellow councillors "Hopefully they just watch and observe" the once powerful mage then silently adds, by the shape of fire i hope to hell that's all they fucking do.
As he knows that he, along with Darid Parsen and Helbe the elven thief, and most likely Dorc da Orc. Will be in a hell of a lot of trouble if something was to happen to either Tamric Drubine or Lisell Maera. As well as to Tovis the war engineer, or the newest member of the group, Beldane the cleric.
No matter what, those four have to be found safe and alive. Or else the mage Reinholt and his fellow council members. Along with Dorc da Orc will face the consequences.
"They better keep out of trouble" quietly says the once powerful mage, he then adds "If not". He leaves what he means unsaid. Not that his fellow councillors need to hear it. As they're already thinking it too.
Both Helbe the elven thief and Darid Parsen the cavalry commander wince at the prospect of one or more of the four who are missing coming to harm, or ending up dead.
As that might be their fate if that happens when lord Farque finds out.
"By the forest gods" mutters the elven magic user in the royal elven language, then after the mage Reinholt says to Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy "Dalin tighten that line there".
The elven princeling quietly says to his fellow councillors "All we can do is hope that stay safe" he then adds "Until then, I'll continue to scout".
The elven masterthief before he disappears, says in common "Dorc what's the matter?" as he sees the large ork rubbing the back of his head.
The elven master assassin refrains from grinning as the ork warleader looks back at him and grunts.
"Don't fucken know" says Dorc da Orc who then loudly mutters "Me must of fucken bumped me head in me sleeps".
Sitting next to his general, the goblin commander Teabagger, sits there with an absolutely straight face as he looks ahead without glancing at the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world sitting next to him.
While in the bow of the jolly boat, sir Percavelle Lé Dic with a smirk upon his face, sniggers as he looks back at the ork weaponsmith.
"Hmmm must of" says Helbe the elven thief who can't help but grin before he disappears when he shifts away.
Then as the jolly boat with others in it, continues on it's way to the northeast. The elven magic user has Narladene the ground pixie to go on ahead, as she can travel a hell of a lot faster than even himself. He has the naturally magical creature go and find the four who are missing, who are most likely near or at one of the villages where the crew of illegal wreckers are based . . . . . .