A Grand Design 46.

Winter. The Kingdom Of Girdane. The City Of Oaklynn.

Captain Kilmane doesn't know what a mageglobe is, but he hears the tone of warning in the voice of Haric the wizard.
So he grabs lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn, and pulls him down onto the roof of the palace.
They roll across the roof as the main building of the palace is rocked by an explosion.
The captain in the regent's army rolls over, and he sees a cloud of debris rise up into the early morning sky from the front side of the building.
And knows that if it was on the backside, where he and the others are standing on the roof. There's a good chance that they would all be dead now.
"Fuck" mutters captain Kilmane, who gets to his feet, and with the help of Sarmac the keeper, they help the regent of Oaklynn to stand.
The next moment, they're somewhere else. The three of them, along with the wizard Haric, are standing in one of the back courtyards of the palace on this bitterly cold winter's morning.
"Best we get the hell out of here" says Haric the wizard who is now holding his power within himself after teleporting the four of them.
"No way in hell do i want to face a mage" adds the portly spellcaster in the rumpled, ruby coloured robes.
As a confused looking lord Sammis looks back at the main building of the palace, and sees the cloud of debris on the otherside still rising up into the air.
Captain Kilmane takes charge, and says "This way" and leads them through the courtyard, grabbing the regent by the arm, to bring him along.
After a few moments, lord Sammis the regent of Oaklynn gets his wits about him, and he looks at his most trusted officer, and asks him "Think we can propel them Kilmane?".
"Let's hope we can" is the reply from the captain in the regent's army.
Who then shares a look with the keeper Sarmac to show what he really thinks. The former gamekeeper is of the same opinion.
The city of Oaklynn will fall to the rebels, who somehow have made it to the capital, when they should be in the central region of the kingdom.
The three of them, along with the wizard Haric, hurry through the grounds of the palace of the king of Girdane, which is under attack. 
As people start their day in the south of the city. Looking out their front doors, and those up early on the streets on what's an exceptionally cold morning.
They see riders going by on the streets. Dozens if not hundreds of them. Soldiers, clad in black. Heading towards the center of the city by the looks of it.
The residents of the city of Oaklynn who are up and about on this bitterly cold winter's morning wonder if they're mercenaries coming to join the crown's war against the rebellious dukes from the very west of the kingdom.
All thoughts of that being the case is erased. When some of the riders come upon a small squad of the regent's soldiers who are on their early morning foot patrol of the streets in the southern quarter of the city.
And the black clad riders, cut them down without warning. Riding over the four bodies of the dead soldiers in the regent's army they've just killed.
It's then, and in similar incidents, that the residents of the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane. Realise that this morning is like no other morning they've experienced before.
As the city of Oaklynn is under attack by the rebel dukes of western Girdane, and the mercenary army they've hired in their fight against the crown.
Behind the faceplate of his full headed helm, lord Farque sourly smiles as he looks at the front of the main building of the palace of the king.
A fair chunk of which is now rubble, with even more of it looking like it'll collapse at any time.
"Fucking mage" mutters lord Farque under his breath, as Mira Reinholt the mage went a little over the top with his mageglobe.
For even though the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil is no where near as powerful as he was once was.
He can still create mageglobes that can be truly destructive if he wants them to be.
With a frowning Dorc da Orc beside him, thinking about the best way to get into the main building of the palace, without the rest of the front of it falling on top of him.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque senses, and he quickly finds the wizard who from what those in the group who have been here in Oaklynn since the start of autumn have told him.
Is a close associate of a captain Kilmane, who if rumours are true, is the right hand man of lord Sammis, the regent of Oaklynn.
The wizard might be holding his power within himself so that he's undetectable to other spellcasters.
That doesn't work on someone like the undead warlord, who can sense all magic no matter what. As he can sense all that are living, and all who are dead.
"Come on cunt" says the heavily armoured deathlord in the ork language to Dorc da Orc.
The lord of the death realm, along with the ork warleader, head around one side of the main building of the palace. Making their way around to the back.
Where Draugadrottin, the name lord Farque is also known by to the people of his lands. Senses the wizard along with three others. Hurrying away from the main building, as they go south through the grounds of the palace of the king of Girdane.
Out on the long street in the middle of the city, Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy walks next to Beldane the cleric.
"They should come from up around here" quietly says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy.
Behind them, Shur Kee the monk who is walking alongside Tovis the war engineer, nods in agreement.
The cleric Beldane, who is walking with his right hand upon his mace, slightly nods.
As people who are on the street early this morning, look towards the palace grounds, where the main building has been rocked by an explosion.
The four of them, the elven spy, the fighting cleric, the physical adept, and the war engineer. Stop just short of a side street that comes out onto the long street that runs through this part of the city.
And it's not too long before they all hear horses approaching along the side street.
The spy Tanith quickly glances around the corner of a building, and looks down the side street, then he steps back, and nods to the others.
The cleric in the church of Glaine takes his mace from his belt. And the fighting cleric from the kingdom of Nastell, stops holding his power within himself. Steps forward, and steps around the corner onto the side street.
Beldane casts a fear spell on the mounts and their riders coming along the side street.
They're a large squad in the regent's army who were about to go out on patrol, who heard the nearby explosion, and instead turned and made their way towards the palace.
The horses rear and buck, throwing riders out of the saddle. While other soldiers just jump from their mounts as they're effected by the mass fear spell cast by the powerful cleric.
Soldiers bucked from their horses hit the ground hard. While others, who have jumped out of the saddle.
Turn and run back the way they've come from, screaming in fear as they do so.
Some are run down by horses that are just as fearful as they are.
While others who lie injured on the street, are trampled by fearful horses that are fleeing.
Grimacing as he sees one of the regent's soldiers crawling away on the street, get his head smashed in by a fleeing horse. Beldane the cleric says "They won't be coming back this way".
Dalinvardél Tanith nods his hooded head in agreement, then the spy who hails from the elven principality of Alínlae says "Next place".
And he sets off with the fighting cleric beside him, with Shur Kee the monk and Tovis the war engineer following behind them.
Walking along the long street here in the middle of the city of Oaklynn on this exceptionally cold winter's morning.
Mira Reinholt the mage can't help but slightly grin as he looks back, and across the street at his recent handiwork in the grounds of the palace of the king of Girdane.
The once powerful mage who is from the city-state of Vexil, is walking south down the long street in the middle of the city.
Occasionally glancing at those who are up early, looking and wondering what's just happened in the palace grounds.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, nods his hooded head, as next to him, sir Percavelle Lé Dic says "I do believe that's it down there, wot".
The heavily armoured knight from the kingdom of Druvic has indicated the city council building near this end of the long street.
Where they see people who have just arrived for the day, are coming out to see what's going on at the other end of the long street, where the palace of the king is located.
The former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, trying to be discreet, and speaking in a quiet voice, asks "That large building beside it too?".
"The regent's mansion" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage, who can't be sensed by other spellcasters due to the amulet he wears "Hardly anyone is in there" adds the Vexilian mage in exile.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands. Until he went offworld through a rift/void he accidentally cast.
Quietly tells the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic "We might check it out later".
The former earl of Lé Dic grunts, and just hopes they get to see some action soon. As he knows his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc is already fighting the enemy in the grounds of the king of Girdane.
Riding through the streets in the southern quarter of the city of Oaklynn on this clear and sunny, though exceptionally cold winter's morning.
Arvelle Ganard the plainsman signals for some of his following company to turn right onto the street that's just up ahead.
While the tall plainsman with the shaved head, who in actual fact, 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 Arvelle Ganard.
Along with the rest of his mounted company, continue riding along the street they're on. As they head north through the city of Oaklynn, making their way towards the center of the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane.
A little while later, and the tall plainsman with the shaved head, who happens to be a former illegal wrecker, who plied his trade up on the Kaldel Plains.
Signals for more of his company, along with some in the following mounted company in the Farqian mercenary army. To turn left into another street.
Arvelle aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman has sent them, and the previous lot. To where the regent's army have some of their small barracks in this part of the city.
Essentially what would be guard houses for a city guard in any other large city throughout the Southlands.
Looking to his left, Arvelle Ganard the plainsman says "We should be in the city center pretty soon".
The subaltern, who is his acting second in command nods his head in agreement.
Then the two of them see up ahead a person suddenly appear. It's one of their scouts, a water elemental courser. Who nods to the right, then disappears in a fine spray of mist.
And when Arvelle Ganard gets to where the scout was just standing. He leads his company around the corner to the street on the right. As they, and the following mounted companies in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, continue on their way to the middle of the city of Oaklynn, on this bitterly cold winter's morning.
Helbe the elven thief looks back and watches the army marching towards the city of Oaklynn.
The Farqian mercenary army is leading the way along the road. With the lead mounted companies already in the city, where they're spreading out.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, sees that field commander Drubine who is on foot. Is over the bridge that crosses the Tambir river. And is approaching the city that's the capital of the kingdom of Girdane.
The talented elven magic user, sees that the three dukes who have rebelled against the crown. The dukes of Falosen, Girnath and Dalmar. Are further back, still on the otherside of the river.
The elven master assassin who is blurred and shielded as he floats about a hundred feet above the ground.
Shifts towards the capital city of the kingdom of Girdane, ending up on a rooftop of one of the taller buildings in the southern quarter of the city.
The elven masterthief who happens to be the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, glances at his right shoulder, and nods his hooded head.
Narladene the ground pixie nods in return. Then the naturally magical creature takes off, winging her way across the southern quarter of the city.
"And here we are" Helbe the elven thief murmurs to himself.
Then the elven princeling, who is a member of the personal council of lord Farque senses all around, particularly towards the center of Oaklynn.
Then as the highly talented elven magic user wonders how the dukes Lombasil, Korros and Hilloc are coping with being so close to their goals.
Shifts away, hoping to achieve those goals for the rebellious dukes from the very west of the kingdom of Girdane.
Duke Hilloc of Dalmar can't help but stare again as he looks at the city of Oaklynn which the rising sun, on this exceptionally cold morning is hitting at the moment.
The duke of the largest duchy in the kingdom, still can't believe they're here, almost in the city of Oaklynn.
As they're on the road that approaches it from the southeast.
And as they near the bridge that crosses the Tambir river less than a mile from the capital city.
The duke of Dalmar looks to his left, to where his cousin sir Passic is riding beside him.
On the face of the best swordsman is also a look of disbelief that they're here. As early this morning, well before dawn, they were still in the border region between the duchies of Wostin and Fandell, in the central region of the kingdom, just over a hundred miles away.
Duke Hilloc looks further away to the south, where a fair bit of the Farqian mercenary army. Along with contingents from the armies of the duchies of Dalmar, Girnath and Falosen, are riding away to the south, away from the city of Oaklynn.
As the regent's army have their main barracks over a dozen miles south of the capital city.
And though, apparently most of them are in the city itself. It's never too careful to take care of what's essentially their base.
While more of the mercenary army, along with others in the armies of the dukes Lombasil, Korros and Hilloc.
Are going up along the open ground to the east of the city. Heading north, then around the city, to where the main airdocks of Oaklynn stand, about a mile and half north of the city proper.
But for now, the duke of Dalmar's eyes are drawn back to the city as they cross the bridge that goes over the Tambir river.
And though duke Hilloc wants to see the crown defeated, especially the regent of Oaklynn, lord Sammis.
What he wants most is his sister back, and he'll do anything to get her back.
I'm almost here Mera, duke Hilloc of Dalmar thinks to himself, who as they cross the bridge, and get to the otherside, and continue towards the city of Oaklynn, quietly murmurs to himself "I'm coming to get you little sister" . . . . . .