A Grand Design 2.

Mid Autumn. The City Of Oaklynn. The Capital Of The Kingdom Of Girdane.

At the main airdocks of the city of Oaklynn, which lies about half a mile north of the city proper.
A transport ship approaches the main dock. A massive structure of stone and wood that's circular in shape. And stands nearly fifty foot tall, and is at least a couple hundred yards across. That has hundreds of airships tied up to it at the moment.
And though there's a few smaller docks nearby, similar in shape. But nowhere near the size.
Most airships put in, and moor at the largest airdock. Which also happens to be the largest airdock in all the Southlands.
Girdane, a kingdom in the central region of the Southlands. Isn't the largest nation in the Southlands. Infact it's a middling sized kingdom at best.
But what it lacks in size, it makes up in importance. As it's probably the most strategically placed nation in all of the Southlands.
As it has the vast Kaldel Plains to the north of it. While on it's eastern border is the city-state of Vexil. And further south of Vexil is the city-state of Tuledare.
While to the east of Girdane, lies a large area of highly populated unruled lands. Much of which were nations and kingdoms in the past.
Until they fell in the usual manner, through war and pestilence and the like. As many nations across the Southlands over the centuries have disappeared. While others have risen and prospered.
Such as Girdane, and it's capital Oaklynn. A city that's actually older than the kingdom of Girdane. And was first established over a thousand years ago.
Oaklynn, which is in the eastern districts of Girdane. Is about forty five miles from the border with the city-state of Vexil.
Oaklynn, which is an open city. Which means it has no walls or battlements, at least not any of significance.
Has the river Tambir run a couple miles to the east of it, heading southeast. Where it flows into the city-state of Vexil. And beyond that into unruled lands. Until it finally ends in the city-state of Tuledare which lies about a hundred and forty miles to the southeast of Vexil.
Oaklynn a city that's ruled by a city regent, and a regent's council. Nobles who are separate from the crown.
Though there's always a strong link between the regent and whoever it is on the throne of the kingdom.
As it is nowadays, as the city regent is a cousin of the current king of Girdane.
You would think that would normally be a recipe for a strong grip on power here in Girdane. And normally it would be.
But at this time in the history of the kingdom. Things are a bit different. As this autumn, as it has been for the last year and half. Some think even longer. There's talk of revolt and rebellion across Girdane.
As the duke of Dalmar, a duchy in the west of the kingdom. Who happens to be the brother inlaw of the current city regent of Oaklynn.
Is the one who is leading the talks of rebellion against the crown and the king.
And though no actual conflict has broken out across the kingdom in the last year and a half.
This autumn, many people across Girdane are waiting for hostilities to break out.
They're waiting for fighting to happen either now and in winter. Or to wait after the spring rains. At the end of spring and into the summer. Which is usually the best time for war, anywhere.
Sitting at an outside table of a taverna next to the massive structure that is the largest of the airdocks, a half mile north of the city proper.
Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy watches the large transport ship docking, whilst listening to the airdock workers on their break, sitting at the table next to his.
And though they speak of the day's work. Their conversation soon turns to the talk of rebellion. Which is often the topic of conversation heard across the city.
"Nah the duke won't, he needs more allies to join him if he wants to take on the king" says one of the dock workers, a short burly fellow who continues with "He hasn't got a big enough army to take on his majesty, especially during the cold seasons".
The other dock workers murmur their agreement, then another one, a short, bald headed middle aged man, says "Still, come the end of spring, he might launch an attack against the king's forces".
"I hope not" says another of the airdock workers, who then adds "I've just finished building my place to the west of the city, and if the duke attacks us here, they'll go right through my new home".
The others offer their commiserations to that fellow. With one suggesting the duke of Dalmar and his army won't get that close to the capital.
And that if there's going to be any significant battles in any impending war. They'll be further to the west in the kingdom.
The airdock workers are about to continue their conversation, when a foreman of their's, out on the street between the largest of the airdocks. And the taverna and the other shops and buildings on this side of the street. Yells at them to get back to work.
They hurry away, across the street. To the nearest set of steps that lead up to the top of the massive circular airdock.
Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as he's called by those who know him well. Watch them go up to the top of the circular airdock. And head towards the large transporter that's just come in and docked.
An airship that the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae knows has just come in from the city-state of Vexil. Though it originated from the duchy of Dalmar in the west of the kingdom of Girdane.
The spy Tanith glances back down as a pair of trolls from the nearby shipyards walk by the taverna.
He's glad that Dorc da Orc isn't in Oaklynn at the moment, and is with lord Farque and the others out in the west of the kingdom.
As no doubt the ork warleader would probably attack the two trolls in broad daylight, and not give a shit about the consequences.
The large ork's hate of trolls is only superseded by his hate of dwarves, water which gets him wet, and the sun which makes him hot, in that order too.
As he's made his life's mission to try and wipe out all of those things.
Dwarves and trolls are easy. He just kills them any chance he gets.
Water and the sun are not so easy. As he's still trying to figure out a way to destroy them.
The elven spy who is nearing three centuries of age, slightly shakes his head as he thinks about the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Then he looks back up at the massive circular airdock, and continues to watch the transport ship that's just came in and docked.
In one of the many markets in the city of Oaklynn. Shur Kee the monk looks at some vegetables in one of the stalls.
The short, statured monk who draws a fair few looks due to his appearance, and what he wears.
Contemplates buying some of the vegetables to cook for dinner tonight. As the food at the inn they're staying in. Though good, is rather repetitive and a little lacking in vegetables. Which is what the physical adept predominantly eats.
The acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li after another look at the vegetables. Which are definitely the last of a summer crop.
Decides to move on, and once more have dinner at the inn tonight, or maybe in a nearby taverna. The local Girdaian name for tavern. Or in most cases here in the city of Oaklynn. Wine shops.
Shur Kee, who hails from the otherside of the continent, where the kingdom of Wah Lee lies on the far east coast.
Wanders through the market, looking at the various stalls and stands. And though this market in the northwest of the city is predominantly a farmers and growers markets. As the stall holders come in from the surrounding countryside to sell their wares.
The market also sells other things. From curiosities such as fine jewelry boxes, to large water clocks and everything in between.
The short, statured monk in the white cotton clothing, and who is wearing an odd conical shaped hat.
Stops at one such stall, which is on the back of a wagon. On which is an array of weapons made from wood.
The physical adept who is the living incarnation of the Jade Warrior Bru Li. Studies the staffs and staves amongst the array of wooden weapons.
The stall holder, and older man who is sitting on the tail gate of the wagon. Looks at the short, statured monk and the staff he carries.
"Lorken?" says the stall holder "It is" replies Shur Kee the monk "Expensive stuff" says the older man on the tail gate of the wagon, who continues with "Extremely hard too, like iron they say".
The physical adept nods his head in agreement. And though many of his fellow brothers, and even some of the masters in his order prefer a springy wood for their staffs.
He took a staff made out of the hardest wood possible. Shau ma as it's called in his homeland of Wah Lee. Shau ma which translates to iron wood in the common language Or as it's known here in the Southlands, lorken.
"Good work" politely says the physical adept as he gestures at the staffs and staves, which are indeed good quality weapons. As are the other weapons in the back of the wagon, like the mallets, clubs, and batons.
"No where near as good as yours" says the stall holder in a slightly dry tone of voice, who then adds "A master craftsman made that".
The older man continues with "Though thank you for the praise of my work". As he knows anyone who carries a staff like the dark one in the hands of the strange looking fellow in the strange looking clothing, and even stranger looking hat.
Is either a total idiot or a master of such a weapon. As it's more difficult to learn to fight with a staff than it is a sword.
And he's fairly certain the short, statured monk isn't an idiot. And he tells him "Especially coming from someone like you".
Shur Kee slightly bows to the stall holder, and after wishing the older man a good day. The acolyte in the order of Bru Li moves on. And continues on through the market.
That was the second weapons seller he's seen in the city markets in the last two days. He saw a similar stall in a market in the south quarter of the city yesterday.
When in the previous two weeks, he hadn't seen a single stall selling weapons in any of the city's street markets.
You could only buy weapons from various shops across the city belonging to blacksmiths, weaponsmith, and weapons dealers.
But now, in the last two days, weapons sellers are turning up in the city's daily markets.
In his room in the inn he's staying at with Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy and Shur Kee the monk while they're here in the city of Oaklynn.
Mira Reinholt the mage closes the book he's been reading this afternoon while the other two are out and about in the city, that's the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
The book is 'The Works Of The House Mage Zanaè Alvael". Who the mage Reinholt has learnt was a mage in the armies of Farque, when lord Farque was still alive four and half centuries ago.
The once powerful mage who has owned this book in the past a couple of times.
Goes back to it more than the other two books he took from a village on the Kaldel Plains at the start of autumn.
Though those two tomes have plenty of spells for a mage he's never come across before.
He always goes back to the volume of spellcraft written by the house mage, or war mage, nowadays known as a battlemage, Zanaè Alvael.
The spellcaster who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil. Who was so powerful once, that he too could of become a battlemage. The first mage in a generation in the Southlands to do so.
Finds that the book written by Zanaè Alvael is more compelling to read than the other books he has recently acquired.
It's obvious that the book written by the house mage, is written by herself. While the other two tomes he has in his possession, were each written by many spellcasters. And not all of them mages.
The exiled Vexilian mage who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, puts the book down on the table beside him.
Then looks out of the window of his second storey room, here in The Iron Monger. An inn located in the northeast of the city of Oaklynn.
Where a lot of smithy's, foundries, iron sellers and metal workers are found.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped off most of his vast powers when he went through a rift, void that he accidentally cast that took him offworld.
Looks out the west facing window for quite some time, until he eventually sees the sun starting to set in the sky to the west. And he hears a knock on the door to his room.
"Come in" says Mira Reinholt the mage, the door opens and Shur Kee the monk enters.
And after the short, statured monk takes a seat on another of the chairs at the table.
The highly skilled swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil asks the physical adept who is from beyond the Southlands "What did you find today?".
It's the same question the mage Reinholt asks Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy a little bit later, when he turns up after spending the day at the main airdocks, that's a half a mile north of the city proper.
After hearing what the spy Tanith has to say, and with what Shur Kee told him a bit earlier. As well as he what he saw in the surrounding neighbourhood earlier in the day.
Where the many smithy's, foundries and metal working shops were busy with various orders.
Mira Reinholt the mage quietly says to the other two "I think war might break out bit sooner rather than later" he continues with "Maybe the start of winter and not in the warmer seasons" . . . . . .