The Lost Ones 15.

Spring. Elsewhere.

"That's all he had" says Tamric Drubine the field commander as he puts the maps down on the table infront of lord Farque.
"He hasn't been there in years, and has no new ones of the place" adds the nobleborn teenager who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"It's not hard to get around" says lord Farque, who continues with "The place just goes straight up and down, south to north" the undead warlord follows that with "With the locals living on both sides of the range. It should be fairly fucking easy to find her".
The heavily armoured deathlord after a brief pause, says "The only problem is that it will soon be summertime, and it can get stinking fucking hot up in those dry hills".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque glances back at Dorc da Orc who is sitting on the floor behind them, drinking from a large barrel of ale.
And knows that the ork warleader will particularly struggle up in the Maldin Hills when they finally get there.
The undead being who also goes by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, looks at Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera who are sitting at the table with him this morning.
While sir Percavelle Lé Dic has just entered the tavern, and is making his way towards their table.
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic who is carrying his full helm tucked under his right arm, sourly smiles as he sees Dorc da Orc is already drinking, even though it's still fairly early in the morning.
"Hmmm a witch" states sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he sits down at the table "Is it all that necessary to find her?" asks the former paladin who then adds "Wot".
"Yes" dryly says the deathlord of Farque.
"Pity" mutters the former earl of Lé Dic, who thinks witches should be burnt at the stake, and not searched for, then asked to join their group.
"We have plenty of these denizens of the foul arts in our company wot" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic who is more commonly referred to as Percy by the others in the group. With the exception of Dorc da Orc, who calls him knight cunt, among many other derogatory terms he calls his bitter rival. The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
"The elf prince, that cleric chap, who still prays to the wrong god i tell you" continues the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in his homeland.
"And that mage of course" adds the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
"What can this evil witch do, wot" asks the heavily armoured knight.
"Witchy things" dryly says lord Farque.
The nobleborn knight is about to continue his diatribe against the idea of finding this witch named Saanea, who is somewhere in the Maldin Hills, which is towards the coast of the Southlands.
But he shuts his mouth as he sees the lord and the ruler of the lands Farque looking directly at him. And notices the flash of bright blue light in the eyes of the heavily armoured deathlord.
Percy clears his throat, and instead calls out to one of the serving women in the tavern, trying to get her attention, to get something to eat for breakfast.
They're in a trading town in the unruled lands about eight hundred miles west of the kingdom of Girdane. And a similar distance east from their destination the Maldin Hills. Well, at least that distance from the southern end of that hill range, which lies about fifty or so miles inland from the coast of the Southlands.
The tavern they're in, is down the street from the boarding house they're staying at, as the trading town doesn't have an inn to stay at, as they prepare to head west. To try and locate a witch by the name of Saanea. Who has been revealed to Helbe the elven thief through his power of foresight. To be important in the plans of Lord Farque.
"Probably best to start on the west side of the hill country" says the lord of the death realm, who then adds "That's where the vast majority of the people in those hills live" he follows that with "And where most of the still operating mines are located".
The undead warlord is about to say something else, when all of a sudden he falls silent. And behind the faceplate of his full helm. The heavily armoured deathlord slightly frowns as he starts sensing something up the street.
"My lord?" asks Tamric Drubine after he shares a look with Lisell Maera when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque suddenly falls silent.
Then Draugadrottin or Des'tier as he's known in the elven language, which translates to The Destroyer in common.
Mutters "Fuck" then suddenly stands up, and is moving. Infact he's moving so fast that he's just a dark blur of movement. The front door of the tavern explodes as lord Farque runs through it to get outside.
In his second storey room in the boarding house in the trading town. Helbe the elven thief frowns again as he senses Mira Reinholt the mage down the hallway about to cast, then decide not to.
The once powerful mage has been doing that on and off since just before dawn, when he most likely woke up.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel finds it annoying. As he's trying to concentrate, as he makes a few magical potions this morning.
"What the hell's he doing?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief when Narladene the ground pixie appears on his right shoulder a few moments later.
"Who?" asks Narladene the ground pixie "Mira" replies the elven magic user who then adds "He's been at it since dawn, and it's damn annoying".
"I don't know" says the naturally magical creature who continues with "I just got back to town now".
"And where have you been?" dryly asks the elven masterthief.
Who doesn't expect a proper answer from the tiny winged creature. And he doesn't get one, when she grins and tells him "Oh, around is all".
Then the ground pixie, who is from the Sunreach Mountains, frowns, then says "Huh?" followed by "What's that?".
Narladene who like all pixies and sprites can sense spellcraft before it actually happens, suddenly shouts "Danger!".
Though he blinks in surprise, the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel slams up wards around himself, both a barrier and protection spell.
As he does, the highly talented elven spellcaster senses. And he senses his fellow member of lord Farque's personal council. Mira Reinholt the mage casting a spell.
At first, the elven princeling thinks it's a rift spell the once powerful mage is casting. A spell the exiled Vexilian mage has never been able to cast.
But a few moments later, the elven master assassin realises it's a completely different spell even though it feels like a rift spell. And by then, it's too late.
After looking out the east facing window in his room again. Mira Reinholt looks down at the table next to his bed, at the open spell book he's been reading since just before dawn.
The once powerful mage who got this particular book on the Kaldel Plains last year. And has been reading it ever since, whenever he's had free time to do so.
Looks at the particular spell he's been studying since last year. It's a rift spell, a spell he's never been able to cast.
One he's now sure he's able to cast, even with the relative lack of power he has nowadays.
The spellcaster who is in exile from his homeland, the city-state of Vexil. Has been about to cast it a handful of times already this morning. But so far, he hasn't actually cast the spell.
Much to the annoyance of his fellow member of lord Farque's personal council, Helbe the elven thief who is down the hallway.
As well as Beldane the cleric, who is about to leave his room, down on the first floor of the boarding house.
"Come on Mira, you can do it this time" Mira Reinholt the mage mutters to himself as he contemplates the spell book once again.
The exiled Vexilian mage takes a deep breath, then he exhales. As he does, the once powerful mage casts the rift spell.
It's a spell he casts perfectly as he looks at the spot in the room where it will appear.
Though he casts it a little too perfectly. And in doing so, he actually miscasts it. Casting a different spell altogether.
One that pops into his mind. After not casting, all that should be miscasting it, in over fifteen years.
Instead of a rift slowly forming in the middle of the room. A rift/void suddenly appears. Which starts sucking everything in the vicinity into it.
As the walls and floor in his room are ripped apart. The mage Reinholt tries to sourly mutter "By the shape of fire". But he's knocked off his feet. And he's drawn into the rift/void, as the room is torn apart around him.
A rift/void spell, just like a normal rift or portal like spell, has to be sustained as it's cast.
So as he's scrambling along the floor as it breaks apart beneath him. The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil tries not to sustain it. As it will be easier to try and drop it once he does.
Unfortunately for the member of lord Farque's personal council. The bedside table comes tumbling his way, and smacks into the back of his head.
And as the Vexilian spellcaster, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, starts to black out, and he's unable to fight against it.
He for one of the few times since losing his vast amounts of powers offworld a number of years ago, temporarily gets them back.
And the power of the spell increases expeditionary so. The rift/void gets larger, and it's destination gets a hell of a lot further than what Mira intended the rift spell to go.
As he's lifted up, and goes flying through the air as he's falling into unconsciousness.
An image pops into his head. Of a place he visited many years ago. A place he visited when he was living on the otherside of the continent when he was in his early twenties. Where he had fled to after betraying lord Farque and Dorc da Orc after he first met them, five years previously at the battle of Vexil when he was just seventeen.
As bits of debris flies all around him, the mage Reinholt goes flying into his rift/void as it sucks him into it.
As he goes through it, the Vexilian mage in exile's knows that his miscast spell will drop once he's unconscious, which is about to happen any time soon.
Unfortunately for the once powerful mage, when he comes out of the otherside of the rift/void. He lands in a fountain and it's pool, in the vast gardens of a palace on the otherside of the continent.
Where the water shocks him so much, that he comes up out of unconsciousness for a bit.
It's also unfortunate for the boarding house that he was just in. And the people who are in at the time. As the destruction goes on unabated as the miscast rift/void continues to pull everything into it.
As the boarding house starts to get torn apart, and pulled into the rift/void. Helbe the elven thief, whose room isn't all that far down the hallway. Goes to slam the shutters of his room open, so he can see somewhere to shift away to.
Unfortunately that's when the mage Reinholt temporarily gets all his power back. And the miscast spell gets a hell of a lot more powerful than it just was.
As Narladene the ground pixie mutters "Fucking hell" as the room around them is torn apart.
The elven magic user grimaces as for a moment he feels how powerful his fellow spellcaster Mira Reinholt really is.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel often forgets how powerful the exiled Vexilian mage was.
But at this time he can't. As he's picked up, and his wards are shredded to bits. As rift/voids being rift/voids don't care for anything including magic, as they draw in everything and anything into them.
Except for magically natural creatures like Narladene. Who yelps "Fuck!" as the elven princeling she's attached to is picked up, and goes flying through the air in the direction of Mira Reinholt's room.
It looks like the elven masterthief is going to smash into one of the bedroom walls. But it's torn apart before he smashes into it. And the debris, just like prince Helbenthril Raendril, and everything else is drawn to, and into the miscast rift/void. The ground pixie flies after him.
Downstairs on the first floor. In the hallway directly beneath the one the spellcasters Reinholt and Raendril are on.
Beldane the cleric frowns again when he senses the mage Reinholt about to cast again.
The fighting cleric in the church of Glaine hopes the once powerful mage goes ahead with it this time. As it's getting annoying with the Vexilian mage going to cast, then not.
The cleric originally from the kingdom of Nastell instantly regrets that thought a few moments later when he meets Tovis the war engineer outside his room.
As he's just about to greet the young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic. Beldane thinks councillor Reinholt has just cast a rift spell of all things. But it's not, it's a rift/void that he's miscast, which suddenly draws everything into it.
The powerful cleric goes to grab his mace as he knows it will get him out of danger a hell of lot quicker than anything he does, as he's picked up off the ground as the ceiling then the hallway walls break apart, and are drawn upwards.
Instead, Beldane reaches out and grabs Tovis the war engineer who shouts "Fuck!" as he goes flying upwards in the direction of the miscast rift/void.
The member in the church of Glaine as he grabs the young engineer, isn't too worried, knowing that a rift/void cast by Mira Reinholt won't be too dangerous as the Vexilian mage isn't powerful at all. And the miscast spell won't be sustained for long.
But that doesn't happen. As there's suddenly a surge of extraordinary amount of power that Beldane senses. And the cleric from the kingdom of Nastell realises that's the true strength of Mira Reinholt's magical powers. A strength in magic that the fighting cleric wouldn't believe was possible for anyone.
"Hell" mutters Beldane the cleric who grimaces as wards he puts up around him and Tovis as they go flying upwards are shredded apart.
The spellcaster in the church of Glaine silently prays to his god as he wonders where they're going to end up as he's powerless to stop being drawn up and into the miscast rift/void.
On the otherside of the boarding house, the street side. Shur Kee the monk who is about to head downstairs, frowns and turns around when he hears what sounds like a loud drawn in breath, followed by a cracking sound.
The short, statured monk sees the hallway behind him cracking apart. The acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li backs away, then as he turns to run for the stairs, he's knocked off his feet, as something forceful knocks him down, and pulls him backwards.
As he scrambles along the floor, Shur Kee grabs a frame of a door that's open. The physical adept holds on for dear life with both hands. Knowing that if he goes to grab the jade shard on the necklace he wears. He will lose his grip and go flying backwards through the air.
Suddenly this end of the hallway explodes inwards as lord Farque comes flying into second storey hallway.
Shur Kee looks up, and relief passes through his body when he sees the undead warlord.
Who grabs him by the right arm, and flings him out the side of boarding house, through the hole in the wall he just created when he entered.
The short, statured monk winces as it feels like he's flying outside at an incredibly slow speed.
Infact that's exactly what's happening to him. It feels like a lifetime as he slowly falls to the street outside.
It's when he's just a few feet off the ground, about twenty feet out from the boarding house, that things return to normal.
Shur Kee lands with a roll, and looks up the street, where he spots Tamric Drubine, Lisell Maera and sir Percavelle Lé Dic running this way. With Dorc da Orc following them at a distance.
The short, statured monk who is surprised to still find his hat on his head. Spins around, and sees the boarding house falling into itself.
Meanwhile inside the doomed structure, lord Farque who has sensed that Mira Reinholt, Helbe the elven thief, Narladene the ground pixie, Beldane the cleric and Tovis the war engineer are no longer here.
Has run as far as he can, as there's no floor left to run on as the miscast rift/void draws everything into it.
The heavily armoured deathlord spots the bright light of the rift/void and leaps through the swirling debris towards it.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque goes through it, and a few moments later it vanishes.
Draugadrottin runs out into a garden, and comes to a stop, and looks around at the debris scattered everywhere.
He spots a fountain close by. And sees Helbe the elven thief breathing heavily next to it, standing over an unconscious Mira Reinholt who the young elven noble has just punched in the face and knocked out.
Looking around, lord Farque mutters "Where the fuck are we?". Then the next moment he senses someone casting, and the next moment the mage Reinholt disappears.
"Fuck" says Helbe the elven thief when his fellow councillor suddenly disappears.
The young elven noble looks around and sees lord Farque walking his way, and he nods his hooded head when the lord of the death realm says "What the fuck has that mage just got us into?".
As they see soldiers and others approaching through the large gardens they find themselves in . . . . . .