The Lost Ones 40.

Summer. The Sultanate Of Dreese.

The Viceroy of Dreese paces back and forth in the captain's cabin that's effectively his prison.
It's late at night, or more precisely very early in the morning. Closer to dawn than it is midnight.
He was awoken by the shouts and calls of the lookouts up on deck, and up in the masts.
The younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese knows that something's happening. And he has a fairly good guess at what it is.
His brother's fleet has found his own fleet. Or, most of what's left of it. As he's had it in hiding in the very northeast of the island chain that's off the coast of the mainland of Dreese, up near the equator.
The local nobleman who led an attempted coup against his older brother. And who since the coup failed, has been at war with his brother the Sultan.
Stops his pacing and looks down at the Shāh board on the large table in the middle of the cabin that runs along the entire length of the ship's stern.
He looks at the state of the last game he played against his opponent. Another game in which the Viceroy lost. Infact the local nobleman has yet to win any of the games they've played.
Though this last one, like the previous couple. Have been prolonged, and lasted way longer than what the Viceroy expected them to do.
For the simple reason his opponent made a small mistake, which he freely admitted to the younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese.
The nobleman, who like all his family, for many generations, comes from the mainland of Dreese. Slightly shakes his head as he looks at the Shāh board.
Then after a few moments as he hears orders being called out from up on the deck of the ship that's essentially the flagship of the Sultan's sea going fleet, he resumes his pacing.
As he paces, the Viceroy looks out the open windows of the cabin. They're open to let in the cooler night breeze. He could jump out if he wanted to. But he knows it will be a waste of time. As his captors who have blocked his magic from him. Will easily catch him again. That's if the sharks and other dangerous sea creatures here in the equatorial waters don't get him first.
The younger brother of the supreme ruler of Dreese spots the running lights of some of the following vessels in the fleet.
There's very few of the lamps lit on the ships he can see. A sure sign that they're trying to go unobserved as they sail northeast.
The Viceroy then looks up into the sky, behind the fleet on the water. He can't see any lights up in the dark sky, but he can just make out the outlines of a few of the airships in his brother's air fleet.
The local nobleman knows that his brother's large flagship will be well to the rear of the rest of his fleet.
As he never gets involved straight away in battle. He always waits until a battle is well underway before he commits his flagship, and the cadre of spellcasters he has under his control into action.
The Viceroy may not like his older brother anymore. But he must admit the Sultan isn't entirely thick when it comes to warfare.
And though he holds back a little too often for the Viceroy's sensibilities. The Sultan does know when to move in and take advantage of his superior power with all of the spellcasters he has at his disposal.
The local nobleman then looks away from the open windows along the stern as he continues to pace. And once again he glances down at the Shāh board on the large table in the middle of the captain's cabin.
The Viceroy stops his pacing, and looks up as the cabin door opens, and two of his captors, two of the foreign mercenaries enter.
One is the large, heavily armoured figure referred to as a lord. While the other is one of the hooded figures, one of the two elves in the group who hold him captive.
"We've found the bulk of what's left of your fleet, and renaming forces" says lord Farque after he and Helbe the elven thief enter the captain's cabin, that's has a single lamp on, that their prisoner has lit.
"I figured as much" says the Viceroy of Dreese, well former Viceroy to be exact, as his older brother the Sultan has actually stripped him of his position.
As Helbe the elven thief takes a seat on one of the bench seats, the undead warlord makes his way around to the otherside of the large table, and beckons the local nobleman to look at the maps that are spread out on the table.
The younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese looks to where the large figure in the dark blue, black armour points to on one of the maps, and says "Your fleet is here, and here" followed by "Configured like this".
The Viceroy nods as he watches his captor put some markers on the map representing his fleet.
Then does so again, when the foreign mercenary called a lord, adds "And your forces are on these two islands that are quite close together".
"I figured they would be" says the Viceroy of Dreese who continues with "I told my commanders to do so if they got word that my brother's fleets came up this way".
"Bit of a bottleneck there, if we're to attack the majority of your fleet in the open water on the otherside of the islands" says the heavily armoured deathlord.
"So you'll go around then?" asks the prisoner of the foreign mercenaries, followed by "And risk the ocean reefs?".
"Now i didn't say that did i" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque who then points at the channel between the two islands in question, then he adds "We'll go right through there".
The Viceroy is silent for a few moments, then he says "You'll face significant losses, even with your superior numbers".
"Yes" says the lord of the death realm, who pauses for a moment or two, before adding "I know".
The local nobleman looks sharply at the tall figure standing next to him, who towers over him.
Then the younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese looks away to their right. Where further along the large table, is the Shāh board. And he recalls the conversations they've had as they've played recently.
The Viceroy of Dreese again looks at his captor, then nods his head in understanding, and quietly says "I see".
He's silent for a few moments, then the local practitioner of magic says "You're plans might not work if my brother and his pet spellcasters come in like they usually do after the battle is underway".
"That's true" says the deathlord of Farque, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"That's why he's going to enter the battle way later than he normally does" continues the undead warlord, who then adds "He's going to face some, shall we say delays".
From where he sits on one of the bench seats here in the captain's cabin, the hooded figure of Helbe the elven thief faintly smiles.
"Though, even then" says lord Farque who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer.
"Your forces will be defeated, and you'll be captured" continues the undead being from the Southlands, which is on the otherside of the continent.
The Viceroy nods, as he's been told this already. Though he must admit he was holding out for a victory by his forces. Which seems unlikely to happen. Especially considering he's not there to lead his own forces.
"Sorry about that" says the heavily armoured deathlord who doesn't sound sorry about that in the least.
"Thanks" dryly murmurs the local nobleman.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque points at one of the two islands on the map that are fairly close together, and tells the Viceroy "You'll be captured by us on that island" he continues with "After that, you'll be taken to your brother" Des'tier briefly pauses, then adds "Then you'll kill him".
The younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese is silent for a few moments as he looks at two of his captors, then he asks "So, how am I'm exactly going to do that?" he then silently adds, and how am I'm going to get out of it alive?
Nodding his full helmed head to where Helbe the elven thief is sitting, the lord of the death realm says "My associate will explain everything to you on your way there".
"Way there?" says the Viceroy with a frown upon his face, he's interrupted by lord Farque who tells him "You're going there now" followed by "The lead ships have already engaged with one another" he then adds "Not that you can tell, but the battle is already underway".
As the elven magic user stands up from where he's been sitting, and makes his way over to the large table.
Draugadrottin holds out his right hand to the local nobleman, and says to him "Good luck".
The Viceroy takes the gauntleted hand, and shakes the cold steel encased hand, and says to the large, heavily armoured figure who towers over him "Thanks".
The local nobleman steps back, and looks at the Shāh board a bit down the table and nods to it, and says "If i live, and i see you again, maybe we can play again".
"Maybe" says Draugadrottin, who then looks at the elven master assassin and nods his full helmed head.
"Ready?" asks Helbe the elven thief as he stands next to the younger brother of the supreme ruler of the Sultanate of Dreese.
No, the Viceroy thinks to himself, who has absolutely no idea what's about to happen, so he just nods his head in response to the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, which lies off the coast of the Southlands, which is on the otherside of the continent.
The highly talented elven magic user faintly smiles, then he glances out the windows of the captain's cabin.
The next moment, he and the Viceroy of Dreese disappear. And lord Farque makes his way out of the cabin, and heads up to the deck of the ship.
The Viceroy finds himself floating in the sky next to the foreign mercenary. They're a few hundred feet above the water. The Sultan's sea going fleet is below them.
The local nobleman looks behind them in the dark sky, and spots a couple of airships heading this way.
"Don't worry they can't see us" says Helbe the elven thief, who then adds "And no spellcaster can sense us either".
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel then dryly adds "Though that captive sprite your brother has got my do if it bothers to sense this way".
"So that's how he does it then" says the local spellcaster with a shake of his head "I'd always wondered how he's been able to sense things he shouldn't be able to" adds the younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese.
"Yeah, that's how" says the elven masterthief who as he looks to the northeast, adds "Come along your highness, we've got to get going".
The Viceroy who hasn't been addressed as his highness since before his failed coup. Blinks in surprise at the honorific.
He blinks in surprise again as they suddenly disappear. And reappear again somewhere else. And do so again, and again, and again. Far faster than any teleportation spell he's ever cast, or ever heard of.
"What the fuck" murmurs the Viceroy in the local dialect after they come to a stop after doing whatever that was, for about a dozen times.
The local nobleman who finds that they're still floating in the sky. Looks away to the east, and sees that the sky is slowly getting lighter in that direction. A sure sign that it will be dawn soon over this part of the ocean.
The younger brother of the supreme ruler of the Sultanate of Dreese looks down, and sees that they're a few hundred feet above some ships on the water.
He blinks in surprise when he realises that they're part of his own sea going fleet. As their bows are pointing to the southwest, the direction his older brother's fleet are coming from.
The local nobleman looks quickly around, and to the north he spots the two islands that are fairly close to one another. Which has a well used channel between the two islands.
Then he and his captor next to him disappear again. And this time without hesitation, the Viceroy knows they're teleporting.
As it's a familiar sensation, even without him having the ability to touch his magic. Which somehow his captors have denied to him.
They reappear over one of the two islands, and the elven mercenary says "So like my lord said, we'll capture you" as they hover a few hundred feet above the island.
The next moment, they disappear and almost instantly reappear on the beach they were hovering over.
"How do you do that?" asks the local spellcaster.
"With skill" is the reply of Helbe the elven thief.
"What's it called?" asks the Viceroy who is intrigued at how someone can move that quickly with magic, far faster than teleporting.
Looking at the younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese, the elven princeling from Laerel is silent for a few moments, then he shrugs his shoulders and says "I named it Shift".
The local nobleman blinks in surprise, as he realises that his captor is the one who actually invented that spell. Something of a bit of a rarity, as new spells are hardly ever created, anywhere in the world.
From what he's studied, the Viceroy knows that each generation of spellcasters throughout the world only create a handful of spells.
The local spellcaster will be shocked to learn that the hooded elf standing next to him has invented dozens of spells already in his lifetime. And at just two hundred and twenty five years old, he's still very young for an elf, especially a royal elf like he is.
The highly talented elven magic user gestures to the top of the beach, where in gloom before dawn, the Viceroy sees a fallen tree, which the two of them sit on.
As they do, Helbe the elven thief tells the Viceroy of Dreese "So, after you've been captured, and your forces apparently defeated".
"Apparently?" quickly says the local nobleman in surprise.
The young elven noble from the Southlands just nods his hooded head in response to that, and he says "We'll bring you to your older brother the Sultan" he then adds in a slightly dry tone "Well, as close as we're able to".
The elven master assassin continues with "And then" prince Helbenthril Raendril briefly pauses, before he grins and says "Well, things will really get interesting" . . . . . .