The Lost Ones 20.

Summer. The Southlands. The Maldin Hills.

There's a scream from up the trail, and Tamric Drubine the field commander and sir Percavelle Lé Dic look back up behind them.
And they see a terrified looking Saanea running down the trail towards them. There's a look of horror on the face of the pretty looking witch.
"What is it you evil temptress?" asks sir Percavelle Lé Dic who isn't sure bringing the witch along with them was a good idea or not. And it might of been best if they had burnt her at the stake.
In fact he thinks it's an absolutely terrible idea she's with them. After all she's a spellcaster, and the former paladin has never thought much of those who dabble in what he considers is the dark arts.
"The beast" gasps Saanea the witch, who is so terrified that she doesn't even take umbrage at the former earl of Lé Dic calling her unpleasant names. Which he always does.
"Figures" mutters the nobleborn knight who is originally from the kingdom of Druvic.
"What has the filthy brute done now?" asks the heavily armoured knight who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
"He's" says the hillwoman, who gets her breath back, and with a look of disgust upon her face, adds in an indignant tone "Is taking a crap in the middle of the trail!".
The nobleborn knight rolls his eyes, while Tamric Drubine the field commander says "You get used to it" .
The nobleborn teenager briefly pauses before adding "Kind of" and when sir Percavelle Lé Dic looks sideways at him, the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin says "Well, not really".
"It's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen" says the pretty looking spellcaster, who like many hillwomen, is short, with tanned skin colour, but with fair hair.
"Lady, you just wait, because he can get way more disgusting than that" murmurs field commander Drubine in the elven language.
Then Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, looks down the trail they're all going down. And sees Shur Kee the monk walking back up towards them.
"What is happening?" calls out Shur Kee the monk as he approaches.
"Nothing much" replies the son and former heir to a previous knight of castle Drubine, a castle and its accompanying lands, that are located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
He glances at the hillwoman, then says "Saanea just saw something is all".
"Oh, what was that?" asks the short, statured monk who is from beyond the Southlands, the far east coast of the continent to be exact.
"The green demon defecating out in the open, wot" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group.
"Oh" says the acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li, who continues with "Yes, that can be very disconcerting at times".
"That's for damn sure" mutters the witch, who first thing this morning when they set off again. Thought that she'd never see the large ork stop right infront of her, pull down his grubby knee length pants, and start taking a shit in the middle of the trail. And that's exactly what he just did.
Tamric Drubine looks down to the road, and spots Lisell Maera the messenger who is down on the road below.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury has an inquiring look on her face.
And the young field commander who is a senior officer in the armies of Farque gives her few hand signals.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well. Rolls her eyes when she see deciphers the hand signals.
The attractive young woman who is a messenger in the armies of Farque, shakes her head. Then continues along the road, glad that it wasn't her that Dorc da Orc stopped infront of and took a shit.
The group have traveled over to the west side of the Maldin Hills, and are heading north after leaving the farmhold that Saanea the witch was living on, at the start of the week.
They're heading back to the village the group were staying in previously, to pick up some of their stuff they left behind. As well as the horses they left in the hillside village.
They've traveled without incident as they headed north, usually stopping in villages or towns in the afternoon, when it's hottest on this side of the hill range.
Then leaving again, early in the morning, well before dawn. As they make as much time as possible, before it gets too hot for Dorc da Orc to walk.
As for the latest member of the group. The hillwoman Saanea, for the most part has fit in well with the others.
Though she gets annoyed with sir Percavelle Lé Dic quite often due to what he calls her, all manner of derogatory things. And because he has openly admitted a couple of times that it might of best if they had burnt her at the stake than to bring her along.
The only other complication with Saanea being in the group. Is that she can't stand being around Dorc da Orc.
Oh, she gets on with him well enough. She can't understand half of what he says, so there's that to take in consideration.
But she actually can't stand being too close to him. As he absolutely reeks, and makes her want to be physically sick if she stands anywhere near him.
In her opinion, he needs a bath. In a mountain lake. For at least a week.
There's only one other minor complication with the witch being in the group. And it's coming up the trail. It's a cat. A house cat, you'd never find away from any settlement here in the Maldin Hills.
Which happens to be the shape her familiar is in today. And the most common shape it's been in since the group showed up to the farmhold she'd been living in, towards the southern end of the Maldin Hills.
Saanea rolls her eyes as her familiar stops, and rubs itself against the legs of Shur Kee the monk. Then as it loudly purrs in contentment.
The short, statured monk holds out his arms, and the cat jumps up into them. Then it climbs up onto the left shoulder of the physical adept.
And as it sits there with a paw resting on the odd conical shaped hat that Shur Kee wears, it looks at the witch who it belongs to.
Saanea sourly smiles as she looks at her familiar, who is enamoured with the member of the philosophical order of Bru Li.
The familiar in it's cat form, usually allows people to pat it. Though not for long, or too often.
But since Saanea has joined the group, her familiar is all over the short, statured monk who is from beyond the Southlands. The kingdom of Wah Lee to be exact. Which is on the far east coast of the continent.
It often just sits on his shoulders as he walks along the trails and roads through the Maldin Hills as they travel north.
If Saanea was the type of spellcaster to willingly read the minds of others. She would read the mind of the physical adept, to see why her familiar is so enamoured with him.
But she's not that kind of practitioner of magic. And because Tamric Drubine politely asked her not to do such things to others in the group. And straight out warned her not to read the mind of Dorc da Orc. And she'll regret it for the rest of her life if she did.
She recalls old tales of how orks are immune to certain types of magic. And that casters who do those spells on them, are never the same again.
The hillwoman definitely doesn't want to try and find out what they are, and the effect one endures casting them on an ork.
"There is friend Dorc now" says Shur Kee the monk pointing back up the hillside.
The spellcaster who is originally from the very northern end of the hill range. Looks back up the trail, and sees the large ork heading down this way.
The hillwoman quickly sets off again, heading down the trail to the road that Lisell Maera is already on, as they continue northwards up the west side of the Maldin Hills.
The others move off too. With Percy running by Saanea, as the nobleborn knight doesn't like walking near the large ork too. For the simple reason they don't like one another. And are bitter rivals.
The hillwoman looks back, and sees Shur Kee the monk further back, closer to the ork warleader.
She rolls her eyes, as she sees her familiar lying down on the left shoulder of the short, statured monk.
Half under his odd conical shaped hat, nuzzling the neck and face of the physical adept.
Who doesn't miss a stride as they make their way down the steep trail to the road below.
Saanea finds herself walking beside field commander Drubine, who she has no idea, is absolutely smitten with her.
Be cool here Tam, the young field commander thinks to himself, the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin then silently adds, don't make a fool of yourself infront of her.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. Fell for the pretty looking witch that first morning he and the rest of the group met her. And convinced her to travel with them.
The senior officer in the armies of Farque wondered if he was attracted to her so quickly because she was the first good looking woman he spoke to more than just briefly for a long time.
And the only one who wasn't Lis. Who Tam admits is stunningly beautiful. But he's just not attracted to. Never has been, and never will be. After all they grew up together. And though they're extremely close. There's something about their closeness, that will never see them be the best of friends.
The young field commander has often wondered why that is. But he's never been bothered to find out why.
As for the witch walking beside him, who he's known for only a handful of days.
He's not just physically attracted to her, he also likes being in her company.
And though she's about four years older than him. And a couple years older than Lisell Maera.
She has already been married, and was so for nearly five years. Until she left her husband last year.
As they make their way onto the road that's about halfway up the side of the hill.
The son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, a castle located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Resumes the conversation they were having just before they got underway first thing this morning, before dawn.
"So is there much difference living in the south of the range than up in the north as you were previously?" asks the senior officer in the armies of Farque.
"There's way less people down in the south, even for the east side of the range" says Saanea, who has a slightly upturned tip of her nose, that Tam can't help but stare at when she doesn't notice him staring at her.
"And i thought the northern end of the hills was sparse with people" adds the pretty looking witch, who then asks "What about where you're from?".
"In Sarcrin?" says the young field commander who is still a teenager. The spellcaster who stands about five foot seven inches tall, nods her head as she walks next to the young man who is just over six foot in height.
"Well, in my family's former lands there's some people, especially in and around the castle" says Tam who doesn't think of the land of his birth that much nowadays.
"But like here in the hills, it's sparsely populated" adds the young field commander in the armies of Farque, who continues with "The northern part of Sarcrin is covered in forest" he wryly smiles as he adds "All you can see in places is trees for miles and miles".
The witch who knows of such things, but has never seen them. As she's lived in the Maldin Hills all her life. And has only gone down into the lowlands a few times.
And though she's seen stands of trees, and woodlots. She's never seen forests like Tamric Drubine has described.
"What was it like growing up there?" asks the spellcaster, who isn't powerful in magic, nor is she weak in it any way.
The pretty looking witch who has never met a noble, until meeting Tam and Percy, then adds "And how did you end up a commander in an army?".
The nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin faintly smiles, then through the rest of the morning, and into the early afternoon when they finally stop at a town. He tells the hillwoman of his life growing up in the heavily forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
And how he eventually left there in the company of Dorc da Orc and two others, when he was still a boy, not yet eight years old.
As they sit in the shade of a covered porch in the town's inn. One of a handful of inns spread across the west side of the Maldin Hills. They aren't exactly common, and there's none over on the east side of the range.
As you're more likely to find taverns in the larger villages and towns in the hill country.
Saanea the witch is glad her familiar sits in her lap, at the table she's sitting at with Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera.
While Shur Kee the monk and sir Percavelle Lé Dic sit at the next table.
And Dorc da Orc sits at the end of the porch, closest to the table the hillwoman is sitting at with the field commander and the messenger in the armies of Farque.
The witch is glad there's a breeze blowing, and the large ork is downwind at the moment. So she can't actually smell him. Well, not much of him. As there's always a slight pungent aroma around him whenever you're within twenty to twenty five feet of him.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world is ignoring the others. As he's busy gnawing an entire roast lamb. While there's barrels of wine stacked up around him. And even a couple of barrels of ale. Which is bit of a rarity, as it's difficult to find ale or beer in the hill country.
They're just discussing if they should travel again early in the evening, as there's a village just a few miles to the north of here.
As they group have come this way before, earlier in the summer when they were searching for Saanea.
When Dorc da Orc says "Hey witchy" the hillwoman looks over at the large ork as he adds "Spell these two fucken barrels" followed by "Not the wines, just these two fuckers".
"Um, what did he say?" murmurs the spellcaster as she looks at Tam and Lis.
"He wants you cast something like a cold spell on those two barrels of ale he's got" says field commander Drubine to the witch, who finds it difficult to understand the ork warleader, because of his thick accent, and his deep, growling and rumbling voice.
And the fact the words she can understand, are all the swear words he says. And he says a lot of them.
"Oh" says Saanea as she pats her cat, and the next moment there's a thin layer of ice covering the two barrels of ale.
"Fucken sweet!" says Dorkindle in a tone of delight, followed by "You pretty good to have around witchy" the ork weaponsmith continues with "Dorc will make sure to only eat you and fuck you when you dead".
"Er?" murmurs the spellcaster, who is pretty sure she understood what the large ork just said.
"Did he just say" says Saanea "Take it as a compliment" says Lisell Maera as she interrupts the hillwoman "Because that's pretty much what it is from him" adds the attractive young woman who hails from the coast of the Southlands, field commander Drubine nods in agreement.
The messenger in the army of Farque then dryly adds "You definitely don't want him to do that while you're still alive".
"Eeewwww" says the general in the armies of Farque in a tone of disgust when he overhears that from Lis.
"Dorc not some sick cunt" adds ork weaponsmith who continues with "Me would never fuck a human lady when they alive, yuck!".
"You would eat one though" dryly says Lisell Maera.
"Oh yeah, me would fucken do that for sures" nonchalantly says the large ork who continues on with "Especially a nice big, fucken fat one, they tastes so yummy".
Dorkindle chuckles, then cracks open one of the iced over barrels of ale and starts drinking from it.
Meanwhile Saanea the witch blinks in surprise, as she's pretty sure she got the gist of what the ork warleader just said.
"He's kidding right?" asks the hillwoman, who continues with "He wouldn't actually eat someone while they're alive would he?".
Tamric Drubine winces in embarrassment, then he clears his throat then admits "He's been known to do that from time to time".
The spellcaster looks at Lisell Maera, who nods her head in agreement with the young field commander.
And Saanea the witch, not for the first time since she decided to come along with the group., wonders if she made the right decision or not in doing so . . . . . .