The Lost Ones 35.

Summer. The Sultanate Of Dreese.

Looking across at the figure sitting opposite of him. The Viceroy Of Dreese says "I'm pretty certain i would of been victorious if you lot hadn't of intervened".
Nodding his full helmed head, lord Farque says "Maybe" who continues with "But even with your tactics, it would of been hard for you to defeat your brother".
The undead warlord who is looking out the windows of the captain's cabin, glances down at the game board, before looking out the windows again as he says "He just outnumbered you by too many" followed "Numbers sometimes do count".
"Unfortunately" dryly says the Viceroy as he contemplates his next move as they sit at the table here in the cabin that the heavily armoured deathlord has taken over.
The younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese, who doesn't look at all like his older brother. Thinks about moving a piece. He's about to put a hand on it. But decides not to. And goes back to deliberating.
He's yet to win a game against the foreign mercenary whenever they've played. And he's considered a bit of a master of the game. That is until he started playing against the large figure, in the dark, heavy plate armour sitting opposite of him.
"Don't you find it hot wearing all that armour?" asks the Viceroy, as he like most fighters and soldiers in Dreese, as well as up and down much of the east coast of the continent.
Prefer lighter armour, and not the heavy plate that's found elsewhere in other parts of the world.
"No" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque as a warm tropical breeze blows in through the open windows here in the captain's cabin.
"Beats me how you wear all that stuff" says the Viceroy of Dreese who doesn't know his opponent isn't exactly alive.
The younger brother of the Sultan, who has his eyes on the game board, slightly shakes his head then murmurs "Maybe".
And he eventually makes up his mind, and finally moves a piece.
Lord Farque or Draugadrottin as he's also called by the people of his lands, a nation that lies on the otherside of the continent, in the Southlands.
Glances at the game board, then moves one of his pieces, before going back to looking out the window.
"Hell" mutters the Viceroy with a frown upon his face as he wonders what to do next, as that move, like all the moves by his opponent, was far quicker than he would've thought possible.
"I get the feeling I'm just humouring you" dryly says the younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese, who like his older brother, is a spellcaster. Though he can't touch his magic at the moment.
"You're doing fine" says the lord of the death realm who continues with "You're one of the better players I've seen in recent years".
"You could of fooled me" dryly says the spellcaster who continues to frown as he looks at the game board, and figures out what he should do next.
"I've had years of practice" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
The Viceroy grunts, then murmurs "It shows".
Behind the closed faceplate of his full helm, lord Farque faintly smiles, as the younger brother of Sultan wouldn't actually believe how many years Draugadrottin has been playing this game.
The undead warlord waits with easy patience as the Viceroy finally makes another move after deliberating for some time.
And in just mere moments, the heavily armoured deathlord moves one of his own pieces.
Causing the spellcaster from the mainland of Dreese to frown even more as he looks at all the pieces on the game board.
"Hmmmm" murmurs the Viceroy as he wonders what he should do next, as he clearly see multiple ways in which he will lose. But none in which he can win. Though he can see he can stave off defeat for some time.
As the Dreesian decides what to do next. The deathlord of Farque who is looking out the windows, says "You're brother is coming this way".
The Viceroy gets up from his chair, and steps over to one of the windows in the row that goes along the stern of the twin masted sailing ship that, along with the fleet, is heading to the northern islands in the chain off the coast of the mainland of Dreese.
"Where?" asks the younger brother of the Sultan.
"There" says Des'tier who has got up off his chair, and stepped to another of the open windows here in the captain's cabin.
The Viceroy looks to where the large heavily armoured figure to his left points. And in the distance to the south, he spots an airship behind the rest of the fleet, heading in this direction.
"Will he and his puppets know I'm here?" asks the Dreesian practitioner of magic.
"You're fine" says the undead being who then adds "They don't know you're here, and they won't know either".
The Viceroy, well former Viceroy to be exact. Nods his head, as he's been told this a number of times already.
Though it's always good to get confirmation. As he has absolutely no control of the situation he finds himself in.
Prisoner to a group of foreign mercenaries. Who work for his older brother the Sultan of Dreese. Though they don't want to be. As the Sultan holds one of them amongst his captured spellcasters. So they're forced to work for him.
The Viceroy, who knows that everyone else in his brothers forces. Including the crew on this ship, and the soldiers traveling on it too. Don't know that he's a prisoner onboard the same vessel they're on.
And that the small group of foreign mercenaries hold him prisoner for reasons of their own.
Chief of which is to have him kill his brother the Sultan, when he's brought before the supreme ruler of the Sultanate of Dreese.
"It won't get a hundred yards near us" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
"Oh?" says the Viceroy as he sees his brother's flagship getting closer and closer to the rest of the fleet.
"Why's that?" asks the nobleborn spellcaster, who led a coup attempt against his older brother the Sultan of Dreese, that failed.
And now, whose military forces who are loyal to him, are fighting a war against the Sultan and his forces.
A war that they were in an equal footing against the Sultan's army and fleet.
Until the large heavily armoured figure standing to his left, basically took over the Sultan's campaign.
And now the forces loyal to the Viceroy has suffered defeat after defeat during this summer. First on the mainland, then out here in the island chain off the east coast of the continent.
"Because I'm not to get within a hundred yards of him" says the lord of the death realm, who then dryly adds "Apparently your brother is scared shitless that I'll kill him if i get close".
The undead warlord pauses for a moment or two, then he says "Which is true".
The Viceroy lifts a questioning eyebrow, but he doesn't say anything on the matter.
He knows there's something strange about the heavily armoured figure standing to his left.
For starters, he never shows his face. And always wears his full helm, not to mention the rest of his dark, heavy armour.
And though he has plain looking mace on his belt. He has a giant sword strapped to his back. The likes of which you'll never find in Dreese, or in any other nation along the east coast of the continent.
As two handed swords aren't really a thing in this part of the world. Especially ones that have a massive blade longer than six foot.
The Viceroy who has already figured out that his opponent isn't an ordinary mercenary. Nor are the rest of the small group of mercenaries who hold him prisoner.
After all two of them are elves, who are rare along the east coast of the continent.
And another is a halfling. Who the Dreesian spellcaster swears was once part of the crew of one of his airships. That was destroyed in a battle not that long ago, on another of the islands, here in the chain of them off the coast of the mainland of Dreese.
The Viceroy who can clearly see the flagship now that it's caught up to the rest of the fleet.
Watches it head to the east, away from the middle of the fleet. Where this ship is, near the front of the blue water fleet. While the airships fly above the sailing ships on the warm tropical waters below.
"Seems like it" murmurs the nobleman as he sees the flagship keeping station over the eastern part of the left, at least a few hundred yards away from this particular ship.
The Viceroy watches his brother's flagship for a while longer, then he returns to the table after his captor sits back down, and waits for him to make his next move.
The Dreesian practitioner of magic quickly picks one of his pieces at random and moves it, hoping to startle his opponent.
It doesn't, as the large, heavily armoured figure moves one of his own pieces, just as quickly. Though with a lot more thought behind the move.
As the Viceroy holds in a sigh that threatens to escape as he sees the possibilities playing out after his last move. And none of them are good, and they're even less than what they were before.
So he goes back to contemplating what he'll do next, and go back to a topic he's more than interested in.
"So how exactly is this going to work?" asks the younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese.
Knowing exactly what the local nobleman is referring to, lord Farque says "Like I've said before, you're forces will be defeated in battle, then you'll be taken prisoner, and brought before your brother" Draugadrottin briefly pauses, before he adds "Who you'll kill".
"Just like that?" dryly says the former Viceroy of Dreese, who then adds "Easy as?".
"Easy as" says the lord of the death realm with a nod of his full helmed head.
The younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese snorts, then says "You make it sound so easy".
"It is" says the undead being, who is known to an older generation of elven kind, particularly in the Southlands, as Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque then says "Though some of things that will actually happen, might be a little bit difficult to achieve".
"How little?" asks the local nobleman, who is the less powerful of the two spellcasters between him and his older brother the Sultan.
"Quite a lot to be honest" says the heavily armoured deathlord.
"That doesn't fill me with confidence" dryly murmurs the Viceroy, who finally makes up his mind, and moves another of his pieces on the game board.
The undead warlord as he moves one of his own pieces on the board says "The trick is to make it seem you've been defeated for good, and that you've been captured in battle, then to get close enough to your brother so that you can actually kill him" he briefly pauses before adding "With you actually surviving".
The Viceroy looks sharply at his opponent, because he hasn't mentioned any of this before.
After a little while, the local nobleman slightly nods, as he was expecting to die, if he was successful or not in killing his brother.
"And why would you care if i survived?" asks the Viceroy as he goes to move one of his pieces on the game board, but changes his mind and decides not to.
"I don't" is the reply from the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who briefly pauses before continuing with "But you do".
The local nobleman sourly smiles at that, then he asks his captor "Do you think i can?" followed by "Actually kill my brother?".
"Possibly" replies Draugadrottin with a slight shrug of his broad, heavily armoured shoulders.
"It all depends on if you do what you're told" says the lord of the death realm who then adds "Because if you don't, you're brother will live, and you'll die, and you would of wasted my fucking time".
The Viceroy grimaces at that, more so because his captor sounds like he'll be annoyed at wasting his time, than the possible demise of the younger of the two brothers who are at war with one another.
The local nobleman hasn't always wanted to kill his brother. Infact, it's been the opposite for most of their lives. As he has always supported his older brother the Sultan, who gave him the position of the Viceroy of the Fleet, when he was only twenty one.
Things began to change when the Sultan's behaviour started changing. His vices that were previously unknown to the Viceroy became public. And he actually started flouting those vices in public.
This is the time the Sultan started putting on weight. And though he was never a slim or lean man. He was never obese, like he is nowadays.
Then he started putting spellcasters under his control. And three years ago, when he put two of the Viceroy's staff members, spellcasters who were his friends. Under his control, the seeds of rebellion were formed in the mind of the younger of the two brothers.
And in a little over two years, the Viceroy and his most loyal supporters launched a coup against the Sultan, which failed.
And for the last ten months, they've fought a running war against the Sultan and his military.
A war that they were holding ground in. Until a few months ago, when things completely changed. As the foreign mercenaries started serving in the Sultan's military. Which now they effectively lead.
The local spellcaster nods his head, then he says "If there's a chance I'll live, I'll do what you say".
And though the Viceroy would like to come out of all this alive, his main goal is to see the Sultanate of Dreese no longer under the rule of his older brother.
The Viceroy moves another piece on the Shāh board, and watches his opponent quickly move one of his pieces.
The younger brother of the Sultan frowns, as that move from the large heavily armoured figure sitting opposite him, seems to be a mistake.
"Why did you do that?" asks the Viceroy, who sees that he can now prolong the game. He might not win it, but it will continue for much longer than he thought it would.
"Because i can" quietly says lord Farque as he looks across at the local nobleman sitting opposite him at the table here in the captain's table.
The Viceroy quickly looks up from the game board, and sees his opponent looking at him.
After a moment, he nods in understanding as he realises this particular game of Shāh they're playing at this time. Is actually way more than what it seems . . . . . .