The Lost Ones 65.

Summer. The Otherside Of The Continent.

Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling kicks at the dusty and dry ground, and looks down the street.
Well, street is too generous of a word for it. As it's more like a pathway that goes through this part of the town.
The hobbit who is a former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese.
Looks up to his right at the figure in the black hooded cloak standing next to him.
Mira Reinholt the mage looks down at the small figure of the halfling next to him. Who like him is a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
The spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, shrugs his shoulders in reply to the inquiring look from the hobbit.
"Not much in the way of a town" quietly says Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling in the elven language.
The mage Reinholt, who is from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, nods his hooded head in agreement.
"That's for sure" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage in the same language as they watch a lone donkey cross the street up ahead of them.
The animal walks slowly, without bothering to look in their direction, before it disappears behind a building.
"Hell, and this is supposed to be busier than those other places we've flown over" quietly says the hobbit who isn't exactly what he seems.
As he's really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Jarjin Littlefoot.
"Apparently" says the once powerful mage, who momentarily pauses as he looks around, then he adds "Though you wouldn't think so by looking at it".
The former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese nods his head in agreement with the exiled Vexilian mage.
They're in a border town. The border between the Sultanate of Dreese and the kingdom of Yandiv.
They're on the southern side, the Dreese side of the border, apparently. Though you wouldn't really know, as no one actually knows where the exact border is between the Sultanate, and the kingdom to it's immediate north.
They've gone inland compared to where they were previously. And the airship the Quick Gull has put down just outside of the town. As the captain and some of the crew of the small, fast vessel that was until very recently, in the Sultanate's fleet. Are picking up supplies for the monumental journey westwards, to the otherside of the continent, to the Southlands.
The group with the exception of lord Farque have disembarked too. And they are wandering around the town.
Which is the largest settlement they've come across so far. Though with the lack of people out and about, you wouldn't think so.
"It's not as though it's a really hot day, and the heat would drive people indoors" quietly says Jarjin Littlefoot as he and his fellow council member, the mage Reinholt wander through the border town.
Nodding his hooded head in agreement with the halfling walking beside him, Mira Reinholt says "I guess they just don't like outsiders".
The hobbit, who previously served in the Sultan of Dreese's airfleet, grunts in agreement as they continue through town.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman then nods, and quietly says "Might as well".
When they round a corner, and the highly skilled swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil, points away to the left along the new street they've turned onto, where a small tavern is located.
There's actually a couple of people sitting in the shade of the veranda that's out infront of the tavern.
The hobbit and the mage sit at another table beneath the covered veranda. Nodding in greeting to the two men at one of the other tables.
Who nod in reply, before getting back to their quiet conversation. Occasionally glancing at the two out of towners.
Eventually the tavern keeper notices Jarjin Littlefoot and Mira Reinholt, and he hurries outside to take their order.
They both order beer, and as they wait for their drinks to arrive, the exiled Vexilian mage slightly nods, when the former air sailor quietly tells him in elven "They're talking about us".
Referring to the two townsmen at the other table, who are speaking in the local dialect of the Sultanate of Dreese.
Which is also the language most frequently used in the kingdom of Yandiv, especially in the south of the kingdom.
As the common language is more often than not, the secondary language in both nations.
"They probably won't know for weeks that they no longer have a Sultan" quietly says councillor Littlefoot.
"Or the likelihood that they've got a new one" quietly says the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
"That's true" murmurs the halfling who is from here, the mainland of Dreese. Though from much further south, in the more densely populated central region of the Sultanate.
"How do you think he did?" quietly asks Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson, referring to the Viceroy of Dreese.
"Who knows" states the mage Reinholt, who after a brief pause, continues with "But he could be the new Sultan for all we know".
The spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, then adds "If he is, he'll be a hell of a lot better than that asshole brother of his".
The hobbit from further south in the Sultanate of Dreese nods his head in agreement.
Then falls silent as the tavern keeper comes back out with two mugs of beer.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin wryly smiles as he sees that the beer looks to be lukewarm.
"Thanks" says the former air sailor when he lifts his mug and finds it cold.
"No problem" says Mira Reinholt who just cast a quick spell on both mugs "I can't stand warm beer" adds the once powerful mage.
As the Vexilian mage in exile, and the halfling who previously served in the Sultanate's airfleet enjoy their beer as they sit beneath the covered veranda infront of the tavern.
Elsewhere in the border town, Beldane the cleric and Tovis the war engineer have stopped to look at some stock in a stone corral, behind some of the houses on one side of the town.
There's a large tent like structure over the corral, protecting the stock from the equatorial sunshine.
Most of which are asleep as a couple of youngsters keep an eye on them. And the two out of towners standing near the stock pens.
Tovis the war engineer gestures away to their right, and Beldane the cleric spots Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy standing at the corner of a building.
The young engineer from the kingdom of Druvic, and the spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell. Two nations that lie faraway to the west, on the otherside of the continent, in the Southlands.
Walk over to where the tall elf in the gray hooded cloak is standing.
"Where's his highness?" quietly asks Tovis the war engineer "Gone back to the ship" replies Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy as the three of them look around at their surrounds.
Then the spy who is from the elven principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, nods his hooded head to one side and says "Come on, there's a tavern around the corner here" followed by "Let's get a drink".
After nodding, Tovis says "Alright" then he adds "Just as long as Beldane makes it cold".
"I will" says Beldane the cleric, who continues with "I don't particularly like warm drinks on a hot day too". As the three of them head around a corner, and make their way to a nearby tavern.
As they walk along what's basically an empty street, the cleric who is in the church of Glaine quietly says "Not a very busy town is it?".
"They're not all that open to outsiders" quietly says Dalinvardél Tanith who is more commonly called Dalin by the others in the group.
"When they saw the Quick Gull approach, most of them went inside to their homes and shops" adds the elven spy who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque.
Both Beldane and Tovis nod to that, for as they've wandered through the border town, they've caught sight of people in their homes and businesses, looking out at the two of them as they've walked by.
They reach the tavern, which unlike the one Jarjin Littlefoot and Mira Reinholt are at on the otherside of town, doesn't have a covered veranda.
So the three of them go inside, where they see a couple of people who were sitting at one of the tables, get up and leave, heading out the backdoor.
The three of them all glance at one another, before they take a seat at one of the round tables.
And since they're the only customers at the moment, the serving woman quickly comes to their table and takes their orders.
Returning shortly, with a couple of goblets of white wine, and a mug of beer. All of which Beldane makes cold by way of a spell.
As the three of them enjoy their cold drinks in a tavern on one side of the town. Just outside of the border town, onboard the Quick Gull. Helbe the elven thief watches some of the crew carrying wooden boxes and sacks of goods and supplies back to the airship from the town.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, which lies off the coast of the Southlands, all the way on the otherside of the continent. Watches them for a little while longer, before he heads below deck, and makes his way to aft, to the captain's cabin, which is no longer the captain's.
The highly talented elven magic user knocks on the door and waits, then he opens it when he hears the command to enter. The elven master assassin enters the cabin, and closes the door behind him.
"Sleepy little place" says Helbe the elven thief, who then adds "They don't like outsiders much".
Lord Farque nods his full helmed head as he sits behind the small desk in the cabin.
"They getting the supplies alright?" asks lord Farque "Most of what the captain wants" replies the elven spellcaster who sits on the bench built into one of the cabin walls.
The young elven noble, who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque then adds "We'll have to stop every couple of days for fresh water".
The heavily armoured deathlord nods his full helmed head, then he stands up, and looks out the open windows along the stern. And looks at the border town behind the Quick Gull.
"Interesting that this place hasn't been attacked like a lot of the places on both sides of the border back along the coast" quietly says the lord of the death realm.
The elven master archer nods his hooded head in agreement, then he says "The captain did say when he and his crew were patrolling out this way a couple of years ago, that the people out here were an individual bunch, willing to fight both the Sultan's forces, and the kingdom of Yandiv's troops".
Lord Farque, who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, nods his full helmed head then quietly says "Maybe".
Then he looks back at the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, and asks him "What did you find out?".
The young elven noble from the Southlands, who read the minds of quite a few people in the border town when he was wandering through it with Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, says "The Sultanate's forces here in the north are a corrupt bunch, doing what they want, and when they want, whenever it pleases them".
The elven princeling continues with "Probably why the Sultan didn't give them to us in the war against the Viceroy" he points to the border town as he adds "Over the last couple of years, they've been supplying the airships of those corrupt crews whenever they stop off" the elven masterthief follows that with "It's why they, and other border towns further west have been left alone".
"Thought it was something like that" quietly says the undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
"Well if the Viceroy is victorious out in the islands, and makes himself the new Sultan, he'll have to deal to this here" says the heavily armoured deathlord as he continues to look out at the sleepy looking border town.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril nods his hooded head to that, then he quietly asks the lord and ruler of the lands Farque "And if we run across any of them as we head west out of the Sultanate?" followed by "What do we do?".
"Nothing" replies the undead being, who after a moment's pause, adds "Unless they do something fucking stupid like attack us". Lord Farque turns around and says "That goes for anyone really, just like usual".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head in agreement to that.
Then after he and the lord of the death realm speak about a few other things. The elven masterthief heads back up on deck. While the undead warlord remains in the cabin.
Eventually the captain and those of his crew who went into town, finally come back with the last of the supplies they could buy in the border town. The cargo hold, along with the cabins are stuffed with goods and produce.
They even have to strap down a number of wooden crates on the deck, as they bought so much stuff for the journey west.
Just a short time later, and the group make their way out of the sleepy looking border town.
With Tovis the war engineer carrying a wooden keg of beer. And Beldane the cleric carrying a small barrel of wine.
After they come onboard. Mira Reinholt the mage and Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling are the last to get back to the Quick Gull.
And once the two of them climb up the cargo netting draped over the starboard side.
The netting is brought up, and stowed away. And lord Farque who is now on deck, tells the captain they can lift off whenever they're ready.
It's not too long before the small, sleek looking vessel that was formerly in the Sultanate's airfleet, infact it was the fastest ship in the fleet.
Has lifted up off the ground, and passes over the sleepy looking border town as it continues on it's long journey westwards, all the way to the otherside of the continent, to the Southlands . . . . . .