The Lost Ones 2.

Summer. Western Southlands. The Maldin Hills.

"You know, Percy is helping them out" says Tamric Drubine the field commander who gestures along the trail in the early morning sunlight to the hillside orchard and vineyard that lies just to the north of the village.
"The fuck" growls Dorc da Orc who has spent the last week and a half they've stayed at the village, drinking and eating as much as he can. While trying to find places that offer him shade as he tries to cope with the summer heat here in the Maldin Hills.
"Probably don't want them to think more of him, than they do of you" says the nobleborn teenager who is originally from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
"Them cunts think that knight fuck is betters than Dorc?" asks the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
"Well" says the young field commander in the same armies, who pauses for a few moments before he continues with "If he helps them out and you don't".
The nobleborn teen who is the son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine that's located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin, leaves it unsaid to what he thinks.
Or to be exact, what he wants the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world to think.
"Fucken cuntballs" mutters Dorkindle who then adds "Can't fucken have that happens".
The ork warleader who has found a tree that actually has leaves on it to offer some shade in the early morning sunshine.
Grunts as he gets up off the ground, and after downing the last of the rich, sweet red wine in the small barrel he's holding.
He steps down onto the trail, and heads for the nearby orchard and vineyard.
Where some of the villagers are diverting a stream from a natural spring in the ground. One of the few places to find water in this part of the Maldin Hills. Where rainfall is scarce throughout the year. Especially now, during the summertime.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well. Follows after Dorc da Orc as the ork weaponsmith stomps his way along the dry and dusty trail to the nearby orchard.
As he does, the young field commander in the armies of Farque looks downhill to his left. To where the road that heads north from the village goes.
Tam is expecting Lisell Maera the messenger and Shur Kee the monk back sometime today.
As they went off a couple of days ago. To see if they can find the whereabouts of the person they're searching for here in the Maldin Hills.
Two of them, whether it be Tam and Lisell Maera, or Tam and Shur Kee. Or Lisell and Shur Kee as it's been the last couple of days.
Have gone out searching through the Maldin Hills. Trying to find out any information about the person they're searching for. Since they decided to base themselves in the nearby village.
They decided to base themselves here for the simple reason Dorc da Orc was known here. And appreciated by some of the hillmen. Who nearly twenty years ago. Earned a fortune from the large ork and lord Farque. Who stole a number of wagons, full of gold, from a mine further to the south in this part of the Maldin Hills.
But so far they've had no luck in finding any information about the whereabouts of the person they're searching for.
Field commander Drubine hopes Lisell Maera the messenger and Shur Kee the monk have found something out. Or even better, they've actually found the person. But he figures they'll have to be extremely lucky to do that.
"We'll never find her with the way things are going" Tam murmurs to himself in the elven language as he follows behind the warleader of the ork race.
They get to the orchard, to where up the hill. The villages, along with a shirtless sir Percavelle Lé Dic, are digging a trench from where the spring is located.
Dorc da Orc stomps up the hill, grabs a spade and mattock from the pile of equipment off to one side.
And he starts digging into the ground, where the hillmen have roped out where the waterway is going to go.
As dirt goes flying to cheers of the villagers. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic sourly smiles as he watches his rival the ork warleader.
Who he knows will give up by midmorning, as it'll be too hot for him by then.
Nevertheless, the nobleborn knight originally from the kingdom of Druvic puts in a lot more effort. As he doesn't want to be shown up by the ork weaponsmith. Who for the most part has an aversion to manual labour. Unless there's some benefit to him.
Or in this instance. If he thinks his bitter rival. The former earl of Lé Dic, will look better in the eyes of the villagers.
As he sits upon a bench beneath some date trees. Tamric Drubine wryly smiles at the two rivals. Who for once are busy working, trying to out do one another.
The young field commander who deemed it best that Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others.
Don't go off and look for the one they're searching for. Just incase either one got distracted, as they're want to do. Especially the warleader of the ork race who is easily distracted.
Takes a sip from his water bottle. As his thoughts turn towards Lisell Maera and Shur Kee. Wondering how they're getting on in their search.
"Nothing?" asks Lisell Maera the messenger "Yes nothing" replies Shur Kee the monk, who continues with "It is an old shrine, to which god i am not sure".
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury nods her head as she looks at the square structure that's the size of a room you'd find in many of the houses in the villages scattered throughout the Maldin Hills.
The short, statured monk in the thin white clothing, and wearing an odd conical shaped hat. Quickly scrambles down the hill like a mountain goat. As he makes his way to the trail that Lisell Maera is waiting on with the horses.
Once he's on the trail, the acolyte in the order of Bru Li takes the reins of his horse from the messenger who is already mounted. And then he hops up into the saddle.
The two of them slowly ride away, in single file along the trail as they head south, back to the village they've been living in for the last week and a half.
The hill range, one of the longest north, south ranges of hills or mountains for that matter, in all the Southlands. As the vast majority of them run east, west.
Is crisscrossed with trails and tracks that go up and down the hills, and over them. Connecting the many dry and dusty roads that go through the Maldin Hills.
Which is still unruled, even though the port town of Gilsom is less than fifty miles from the northern end of the hill country.
And though many a person has tried to impose rule upon the Maldin Hills over the centuries. They've all failed, as the hillmen have held out and rejected anyone who has tried to rule them.
And at other times they've fought against those who try to impose a rule of law, or try to set up a nation in part of, or even all of the Maldin Hills.
The only outsiders who have had any sway in the hill country are those who have opened up new mines in the range.
As the old ones were played out centuries ago. And new prospectors, usually form the coast. Come in and try to look for a new seam. Usually silver and gold, as well as tin. Which is found throughout the Maldin Hills.
Lisell Maera or Lis as more often as not she's referred to by those who know her well. Likes traveling with Shur Kee the monk.
He doesn't indulge in idle chatter. And only speaks when necessary. Apart from him waking far too early in the mornings for the messenger's liking. As he meditates first thing before dawn. Then he practices his unarmed combat.
Which the physical adept has been teaching Lis along with the field commander Tamric Drubine over the last couple of years.
She finds traveling with the short, statured monk a pleasure. Especially in comparison to Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Who the attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, thinks would drive a holy saint crazy. As the two of them certainly do her head in, most of the time.
"Where do you think they are?" quietly asks Lisell Maera, who is the one who always initiate any conversation between herself and Shur Kee as they travel through this part of the hill country.
"I do not know" replies the monk who is the living conduit of the Jade Warrior, Bru Li.
"Wherever they are, i am sure they are fine" adds the physical adept, whose attire suits him well for the hot, dry summer they're enduring here in the Maldin Hills.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands nods her head as they make their way downhill to where the closest road is.
They have no idea where the others are. And it's only the five of them. Lis, Shur Kee, Tamric Drubine, sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Dorc da Orc who are in the hill country, searching for someone.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, whose mother was a street prostitute, and whose father, who she never knew, was a sailor.
Will call a stop sometime before midday, to take shelter somewhere from the heat in the middle of the day.
Lis, who will soon be twenty one years old. Definitely agrees of the hillmen tradition of resting during the heat of the day. From around midday to after mid afternoon.
It's the ideal thing to do, if one wants any kind of respite from the hot and dry conditions that the Maldin Hills endure during the summertime.
The messenger, who suspects it gets bitterly cold up here in the hill country during the winter.
Is monetarily surprised, when from behind her. Shur Kee the monk, who doesn't usually initiate any conversation, speaks up.
"To the left" quietly says the short, statured monk who is from beyond the Southlands, far beyond it infact. To be exact, the far eastern coast of the continent. Where his homeland, the kingdom of Wah Lee lies.
"Up the hill" quietly adds the physical adept who is in his early thirties nowadays. "Movement" quietly continues the sharp eyed monk who is an honorary member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The messenger in the armies of Farque, looks out of the corner of her eye. Up the hill as the trail they're traversing goes downhill towards the nearest road.
After a few moments, Lis catches sight of movement, and sees a few people, keeping low to the ground, go up, and disappear over the top of the hill.
"Hillmen?" quietly asks the attractive young woman who has caught the eye of a few of the unmarried men in the village they're staying at. She's caught the eye of some of the married men too.
"I do not think so" is the quiet reply of Shur Kee as he rides behind the horse that Lisell Maera is on.
"They did not wear the tunic and skirt the hillmen wear" quietly adds the physical adept who is a member of the philosophical order of Bru Li. A philosopher and thinker from the kingdom of Wah Lee, who died over seven centuries ago.
"They had armour, and are armed" quietly says the living incarnation of the Jade Warrior Bru Li.
"That's not good" quietly says the messenger in the armies of Farque, as you'll be hard pressed to find any hillmen who wear armour, or are armed. The weapon you'll most likely to find the locals have in the Maldin Hills, is their hunting bow. Which a lot of them are particularly fond of.
"Outsiders then" quietly says Lisell Maera, behind her, Shur Kee nods in agreement as they continue riding at slow pace down the trail they're on.
"Up to no good then" quietly adds the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands, which isn't all that faraway, well under fifty miles away from this part of the Maldin Hills.
Though her homeland of Brattonbury, is another two thousand miles further north up the coast.
"How many do you think?" quietly asks the messenger, or runner in the armies of the lands Farque.
"A dozen at least that i saw" is the quiet reply from Shur Kee the monk as they approach the road the trail they're on leads to.
"That's definitely not good" murmurs Lis who only saw the last three of them, go up over the top of the hill.
"And they're going south too" quietly says the attractive young woman who is originally from the city-state of Brattonbury.
"Yes they are" quietly says the short, statured monk whose odd shaped conical hat, offers him respite from the morning sunshine, that's beating down upon the hill country.
Once they're on the road, Lisell Maera looks back at the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, and quietly tells him "We might have to ride through the heat of the day".
"I understand" says Shur Kee with a nod of his head, as they heel their horses to more speed now that they're on the dry and dusty road, giving them rein to run for a bit.
Because they both know, that the only significant settlement along this road to the south, is the village that they've been staying at.
And whoever it was they caught a brief glimpse of going over the top of the hill. Are definitely going southwards towards it . . . . . .