The Lost Ones 67.

Summer. The Town Of Falmare In The Lowlands.

After she briefly stops holding her power within herself. Saanea the witch glances around the corner and winces as she sees another of the mercenaries go flying backwards through the air after sir Percavelle Lé Dic hits him.
The spellcaster from the Maldin Hills watches as the sorcerer named Grunna, grab the mercenary Brossic, and disappear.
They reappear just thirty feet away, where the other two mercenaries are. Halnard who stands there looking more than a little dizzy, as he looks at Spranen who lies unconscious in the middle of street.
And as sir Percavelle Lé Dic walks towards them, the four of them disappear as Grunna teleports them away.
The pretty looking hillwoman closes her eyes. And looks through the eyes of her familiar. Which is in the form of a raptor. Flying over the eastern part of the town of Falmare.
The witch from the Maldin Hills nods her head. And she opens her eyes and looks out onto the street, where she sees the heavily armoured knight looking back towards the yard she's in.
"That way!" calls out Saanea the witch who points away to her left down the street.
The member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che nods his full helmed head.
Then he takes off running in the direction he was heading towards anyway.
Saanea runs back through the yard between the two buildings, to a lane that runs behind the row of buildings, parallel to the street where the former paladin confronted the mercenaries they've been chasing.
The witch turns into the lane, heading in the same direction that Tamric Drubine the field commander and Shur Kee the monk took off in.
The two of them went this way, when the merchant Sharnd took off as the others tried to attack sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Meanwhile, on a rooftop nearby. Lisell Maera the messenger stands up after shooting off another bolt from her crossbow.
The latest hired mercenary she's hit, lies to the side of Sharnd the merchant's shop.
While four others she shot, lie dead or dying, in the courtyard behind the merchant's shop.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury rolls her eyes, as she hears another loud roar.
Then sees Dorc da Orc run from the back of the small warehouse that's across the courtyard behind the merchant's shop.
By the looks of it, the large ork who is back to normal, and no longer under the illusion spell that Saanea the witch cast upon him.
Must of missed the back door, and run right through the back wall, if the bits of wood falling off of him is anything to go by.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, biffs away a headless body he's got in his right hand.
It's one of the mercenaries that the five who have plans to create their own nation up in the Maldin Hills, have hired to help bring about those plans.
The ork warleader along with Lisell Maera have killed all of those hired mercenaries and pirates who were either in the courtyard behind Sharnd the merchant's trading shop, or surrounding the small warehouse that's on the otherside of the courtyard.
As the ork weaponsmith heads through the lane that those they're after took off down a little earlier.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well. Who knows that Dorkindle will easily follow those they're after, due to his sense of smell, and his enhanced hearing.
Looks around as she stands there on the rooftop, on one of the buildings here in the eastern part of the town of Falmare.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque looks towards all the nearby streets from her vantage point on the roof.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands, whose mother was a street prostitute in Brattonbury, and whose father, who she never knew or met, was a sailor.
Frowns as she looks around, hoping to spot those they're after, as well as the others in the group, who she knows are nearby.
Lis then looks up in the clear sky on this warm summer's day here in this part of the lowlands, that lie between the Maldin Hills to the east, and the coast to the west.
The messenger, or runner as they're sometimes referred to. Spots an unlikely looking bird circling over the eastern part of the town of Falmare.
It's a raptor of some kind. A falcon, or a small hawk of some type.
Not the kind of bird you'd expect to find circling above such a large town like Falmare.
Lisell Maera nods when she watches it for a few moments. Then the attractive looking young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury. Leaps over to the roof to her right. As she starts making her way to where the raptor, Saanea's familiar is circling over this part, the eastern part of the town of Falmare.
Elsewhere in the eastern part of the lowland town. Tamric Drubine the field commander looks down a laneway as he and Shur Kee the monk find themselves in this part of town.
The two of them, the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin, and the short, statured monk from the far east coast of the continent.
Made their way from the yard they're were waiting in with Saanea the witch as sir Percavelle Lé Dic confronted those they're after.
For the simple reason that the merchant Sharnd took off when the others he's planning on creating a nation of their own up in the Maldin Hills.
Were busy fighting the former paladin. Doing a bad job at it too. As the large, heavily armoured knight was taking care of the others with relative ease.
Looking down the laneway, Tamric Drubine the field commander nods his head, then says "There he goes" as he sees Sharnd the merchant run by the other end of the lane.
The nobleborn teenager who is the son and former heir to a previous knight of castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin, then adds "Let's go".
And takes off running down the street to their left. The physical adept who is a member of the order of Bru Li, a philosophical and spiritual order based in, and predominantly practiced in the kingdom of Wah Lee, which is all the way on the otherside of the continent.
Easily keeps pace with the taller, and younger man as they make their way through the east part of Falmare.
"He's heading to his home" says field commander Drubine as he runs. Next to him, the holy man from the far east coast of the continent, nods in agreement.
The field commander, a senior officer in the armies of Farque knows that Sharnd's house is in the south of the town. And that the merchant is running that way, as he flees sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, points up ahead to their right, where there's a side street.
Shur Kee, who is the living conduit of the Jade Warrior, Bru Li. Nods in understanding as he runs alongside the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin.
The two of them run around a horse drawn wagon that's moving slowly along the street. People stop and watch them as they run by.
Then the field commander in the armies of Farque, and the short, statured monk, run into the side street.
Tam leaps over a wooden crate infront of a shop door, while Shur Kee runs around it.
The young field commander picks up the pace, and with his longer legs, he quickly gets ahead of the acolyte in the order of Bru Li.
Field commander Drubine as he runs has got his eyes on the street at the end of the side street he's on.
Tam picks up the pace again as he sees a figure come into view, stopping after running, who looks back in the direction he's come from, as he leans over, breathing heavily, trying to get his breath back.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque, near the end of the side street, jumps forward, and dive tackles the figure bent over, breathing heavily. Who turns at the last moment, when he hears someone approaching quickly along the side street.
Smashing him to the ground in a tackle, Tamric Drubine rolls on top of Sharnd the merchant, and says "Going somewhere?".
Tam gets up, and with the aid of Shur Kee the monk, hauls the groaning lowlander to his feet.
The physical adept from the far east coast of the continent, throws a short, soft punch, right between the eyes of Sharnd, knocking the flatland merchant out.
Field commander Drubine picks the smaller local man up, and puts him over his right shoulder. Then he and the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, hurry back into the side street as quickly as they can.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic who is heading south through the eastern part of the town of Falmare, stops in a square.
And behind the faceplate of his full helm, the heavily armoured knight narrows his eyelids as he looks across to the southern side of the square, and the street that leads off it.
The former paladin, who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, makes his way quickly over to a row of stalls, where street vendors, are selling mostly food, on this warm summer's day in this part of the lowlands, that lie between the Maldin Hills and the coast of the Southlands.
"I say good merchants, you haven't seen a purveyor of the dark arts, those you know as spellcasters" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who quickly adds "In the company of three other fellows, all lickspittle common mercenaries, one of whom might of been unconscious, because of yours truly, wot".
"Er?" says more than a few of the stall holders and their customers, who couldn't exactly understand the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, who hardly ever speaks in a clear and concise fashion. As he tends to elaborate a bit too much, even when he's in a hurry.
Fortunately for the large, heavily armoured knight, one of the stall holders did understand what he just said, and says "A magic user?" followed by "And four fighters?".
"That's right my good chap, they're the ones" says the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of the kingdom of Druvic.
The stall holder nods, then points up to a rooftop on the southside of the square, and says "They were just up there, a short time ago, then they disappeared".
A few of the other stall holders, and some of the customers agree with him. As they too saw the four in question briefly appear on the building at the southeast corner of the square.
"Now which way did those villains go?" the nobleborn knight mutters to himself.
Then sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. With the exception of Dorc da Orc, who calls him cunt, or knight cunt.
Knows a little bit about magic, especially when it's something that will benefit him.
But he does know that a spellcaster has to see where he's teleporting to, so he asks the stall holders and their customers "Which way were they facing?" quickly followed by "To where were they looking too?" he then adds a quick "Wot".
The same stall holder who spoke before, says "To the south" as he clearly remembers those on top of the roof at the southeast corner of the square, didn't look down into the square, but looked away to the south across the town of Falmare.
"Verily" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who then takes off running to the south across the square.
The large, heavily armoured knight who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
Is quickly onto the street that leads away to the south from the square. As he continues to pursue those he and the rest of the group have chased from the Maldin Hills, then up the coast to the port town of Gilsom, now down here in the lowlands, to the town of Falmare.
On a street in the eastern part of the town, Dorc da Orc stops and repeatedly sniffs.
Ignoring a townswoman who has just stepped outside, then screamed at the sight of him, before hurrying back inside, and slamming the door to her house shut.
The large ork grunts, then sets off again. The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, has got the scent of those he and the rest of the group are after.
The ork warleader, who doesn't particularly like running after those he's pursing, especially on such a warm summer's day here in the lowlands that lie to the west of the Maldin Hill country.
Breaks out into a jog, and steadily increases his speed, as he's also caught the scent of the others in the group.
And though he's smelled the scent of both Tamric Drubine and Shur Kee the monk, who by the smells of things, have caught one of those they're after.
The local merchant Sharnd, not that the ork weaponsmith remembers the name of the flatland merchant.
He's also caught the scent of the newest member of the group, Saanea the witch, who is moving quickly through the eastern part of the large town, as she pursues those they've been after since running across them in a village up in the Maldin Hills at the start of the week.
The large ork grumbles and mutters something in the incomprehensible language of his race about spellcasters and their ability to move quickly when they want to.
Dorkindle, who smells Lisell Maera, a few streets somewhere away to his right, more or less heading in the same direction he's heading.
Isn't really worried about where the others in the group are. With the exception of one of them.
That being his bitter rival, sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who is further south of him in this part of Falmare. Closer to where those who they've been chasing, currently are.
The ork who is a general in the armies of Farque doesn't want the former paladin getting to them before he does.
"Can't have that cunt knight have all fucken fun" mutters Dorc da Orc, who is only running because he wants to get to those they're after before the former earl of Lé Dic can confront them again.
The large ork spots two men walk from a lane. And while the people on the street back away, when they see the ork weaponsmith running in their direction.
These two walk straight out into the street, slightly unsteady on their feet, a sure sign that they've been drinking today.
Dorkindle who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, frowns as he looks at the two men.
Then he grins as he recognises them. Or to be exact, he recognises what they are.
They're sailors, specifically coastal raiders, or pirates. Not exactly who'd you expect to find in a lowland town, more than fifteen miles from the coast.
"Get some!" shouts Dorc da Orc as the two pirates, finally see him running straight towards them.
And before they can react, the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world. Runs into them, knocking them both to the ground with force. And tramples on them, as he continues on his way.
The warleader of the ork race chortles a deep growling chortle as he runs, knowing that he's just killed two more of those who have been hired by the five who have plans of creating a nation of their own up in the Maldin Hills.
The large ork rounds a corner, and cuts across a street, and enters a lane. As he goes more or less in a straight line through the eastern part of Falmare, towards where those he and the others are after.
The ork general just hopes he gets to them before his bitter rival sir Percavelle Lé Dic finds them.
"It's Dorc's turn to have some fucken fun" Dorkindle murmurs to himself.
As the fifteen or so hired mercenaries and pirates he's killed already, in around the small warehouse across the back courtyard behind Sharnd the merchant's shop.
And the two he's just trampled to death a couple streets behind him. Are just the warm up, so to speak, for the day. As he really wants to kill those he and the rest of the group have chased all the way from the Maldin Hills, to up the coast in the port town of Gilsom, to currently down here in the lowlands, and the town of Falmare . . . . . .