The Lost Ones 70.

Summer. The East Of The Continent.

"What's all out here?" asks Helbe the elven thief as he points at one of the charts on the table, as well as a map that was purchased in the last border town they stopped at.
"Savannah?" adds the young elven noble from the island principality as he tries to decipher the writing on the map that's in the local language.
"Yeah savannah" replies lord Farque, who continues with "Grasslands".
The highly talented elven magic user nods, as does Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling who has climbed up onto the table, and is sitting on it as they study the maps and charts.
"There's a couple of kingdoms there, but they're all to the north, above the equator" explains the undead warlord who is standing, leaning back against the open windows here in the captain's cabin of the Quick Gull.
"Mira probably knows the names of them" adds the heavily armoured deathlord.
The elven masterthief and the hobbit who is a former air sailor, share a quick look at one another.
Then the young elven noble who is a member of the royal family that rules the principality of Laerel, which is off the coast of the Southlands. Moves one of the charts to one side, to reveal more of the recently purchased map.
Then he says "And all this further west?" followed by "More unruled lands i guess?" as be points at a large blank part of the map that takes up nearly a third of it.
Nodding his full helmed head, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque says "It's a desert that goes on for fucking ages".
The undead being who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands, then sourly adds "I had to drag and carry Dorc's fat ass across that when the ship we were on crashed out there".
Both Helbe and Jarjin, who are members of lord Farque's personal council nod. As they've heard about how the undead warlord and Dorc da Orc came out here to the eastern side of the continent a number of years ago, when they were chasing Mira Reinholt the mage across half of the world for nearly five years after he tried to kill them, basically when they first met.
Eventually catching him in the far eastern coastal kingdom of Saedau. Which is part of the Five Kingdoms.
"We're definitely not flying across that" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque as he points a gauntleted forefinger at the blank part of the map.
"We'll head southwest, and go across the lands and kingdoms south of there" adds the lord of the death realm, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
The halfling, a former air sailor in the Sultan of Dreese's fleet looks to the south of the desert on the map.
And even there the lands and nations aren't particularly detailed.
The hobbit, who in actual fact is really a human, a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of the former air sailor from the Sultanate of Dreese.
Goes through the pile of charts next to him, and pulls out one he quickly looked at earlier. And he places it next to the recently purchased map.
"A little better, but not much" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit as the chart shows a few of the nations south of the desert in detail compared to the newly bought map.
Though much of the rest of it is a little ambiguous to say the least.
"Looks like there's a few towns and cities we can stop at on the way" says the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel as he points at the chart Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman has just placed next to the map.
"At least that's something" adds the elven master assassin as he looks out the open windows of the cabin, and sees the land they're flying over at the moment.
They're in the very west of the Sultanate of Dreese. And the land is dry, almost arid looking. The greens of the tropical coast are far behind them.
And as the airship heads southwest, the land in turning more to grasslands than anything else. With little in the much of tree cover.
And when you do see trees, they're predominantly in stands. Obviously planted by the inhabitants here in the very west of the Sultanate.
At the moment, they're basically following a dirt road that goes out of the Sultanate.
The captain and crew of the Quick Gull, have never come out this far west in their homeland. And none of them have left the Sultanate by this way.
Some of them have gone north into the kingdom of Yandiv, and some of the other nations of the Five Kingdoms that lie north of the equator.
And the captain and some of his crew have gone directly south of Dreese in the past. Visiting the two nations directly south of the Sultanate.
But none of them have come out this far west, or gone further southwest. Which is the direction the small, sleek looking airship is heading in at the moment.
"I can't read this on this chart" says Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson who continues on with "It's not in the dialect spoken in the Sultanate".
The undead warlord steps forward, and looks at what the former air sailor is pointing at.
Draugadrottin grunts, then says "A warning to be cautious in those two places, and to stay the fuck away from that one".
"Well that sounds great" dryly says the halfling from the mainland of Dreese as he looks at two of the kingdoms that are in pretty good detail on the chart. And a third nation that's basically an outline, with little in the way of detail in it.
"No wonder that place isn't well charted" dryly adds the former air sailor who served in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese. Until he died in battle, and  was brought back to life by lord Farque, though with Zubutai the barbarian hordesman inhabiting the body of the hobbit.
"I wouldn't worry too much" says Helbe the elven thief with a shrug of his shoulders.
The cloaked and hooded elven master assassin then adds "I guarantee we've been to far worse places".
"Oh?" says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, who then asks "Like where?".
"The entire Southlands" says prince Helbenthril Raendril in the driest tone imaginable, which causes the former air sailor in the Sultanate's fleet to guffaw, and softly chuckle.
"Yeah, well that's true" says the halfling in mirth, who then looks down at the chart that has the warnings about some of the nations to the south of the vast desert that's further to the west, and he quietly murmurs "Still".
Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin falls silent as there's a knock on the cabin door.
"Enter" calls out lord Farque in the common language, as the three of them have been conversing in elven.
One of the crew, who the lord of the death realm sensed coming down from the deck, enters and says "My lord, the captain wishes a word with you".
Des'tier slightly nods his full helmed head, then says "We'll be up shortly".
"Yes my lord" says the crew member, who then adds "I'll just inform him".
After the air sailor departs, and closes the cabin door. Jarjin Littlefoot quietly says in the elven language "So" followed by "Think he's worried about where we're going?" referring to the ship's captain, as he points at the chart with the warnings on it.
A little while later, and the large, heavily armoured deathlord, the elven masterthief and the halfling who is a former air sailor, make their way up onto the deck of the Quick Gull.
And as Helbe the elven thief wanders forward along the deck to where Mira Reinholt the mage is up on the bow.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque, and the halfling from the mainland of Dreese, head aft to the slightly raised deck there.
As he follows behind the large figure of the lord of the death realm, who towers over everyone else onboard.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman glances to the west, and sees that the sun is going down in the sky, and that it will soon be twilight here in the very west of the Sultanate of Dreese.
Helbe the elven thief glances to aft, and sees that lord Farque is in conversation with the ship's captain near the wheel of the Quick Gull, which until very recently was the fastest vessel in the Sultanate's fleet.
The highly talented elven magic user then looks at the spellcaster standing beside him here in the bow, and quietly asks him in the elven language "Did you ever travel in the lands away to the southwest?".
Mira Reinholt the mage shakes his hooded head no, then says "I didn't" followed by "I came across the northern part of the desert when i came out west when i was younger".
The once powerful mage continues with "And when we went back to the Southlands, we skirted most of those places, until we got to the southern coast" he then adds "We sailed back to quite near to the Southlands".
The mage Reinholt, who like Helbe the elven thief and Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit, is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque then says "Took us weeks across the southern ocean, it was summertime, so the conditions weren't bad".
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, then dryly adds "Though weeks onboard a ship at sea with Dorc was a bit of a fucking nightmare" followed by "All the big idiot did was complain about everything".
The elven princeling chuckles, and can well imagine a long trip at sea in the company of Dorc da Orc would be taxing to say the least. Considering the large ork, like all of his kind, absolutely hates water.
The Vexilian spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell he accidentally cast over a dozen years ago.
Shakes his hooded head, and quietly says "I wonder what that big, green idiot is doing at the moment?".
"Probably trying to eat something he shouldn't" says the highly talented elven magic user, who after a brief pause adds "Or trying to kill it" he briefly pauses again, before saying "Or trying to fuck it".
As the mage Reinholt sniggers, the elven master archer adds "Knowing him, probably all three". Which finally causes the once powerful mage to burst out laughing.
While on the right shoulder of Helbe the elven thief, Narladene the ground pixie, who is invisible to all apart from the young elven noble she's attached to, and lord Farque back on the aft deck. Is rolling around, silently laughing at that from the elven princeling.
"Probably" says Mira Reinholt who wipes away tears of laughter from his face, as away in the west, the sun is dropping down towards the horizon.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who at the age of seventeen, was the youngest ever member of the mage council of Vexil.
The same age he was sent into exile from his homeland Vexil, due to his treasonous actions during the Battle of Vexil.
The same battle he first met lord Farque and Dorc da Orc, where just after a few days of knowing them, he tried to kill the two of them.
Quietly says to his fellow councillor "At least he's not here to annoy us" the mage Reinholt who rather likes the ork warleader, though only in small doses, as the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world is far too annoying even at the best of times.
"Knowing that fat lump, if he was here, he'd probably try and fly this ship" says the Vexilian mage in exile, who then dryly adds "And end up crashing it".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head in agreement.
And on the right shoulder of the elven master assassin, the ground pixie Narladene nods in agreement too.
The two spellcasters, one elven who though not especially powerful, is extremely talented. And the other human, who isn't powerfull at all, when once he was more powerful than any other mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Remain on the bow deck, quietly chatting to one another in the elven language as the sun sets in the west.
When finally dusk takes over, the mage Reinholt heads below deck behind Jarjin Littlefoot, Beldane the cleric and Tovis the war engineer, as well as Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy. As they go to the galley, to see what the ship's cook, who also happens to be ship's carpenter, is serving for dinner.
From what they've eaten so far in this journey, the crew member making the meals, is definitely a better carpenter than he is a cook.
Meanwhile, Helbe the elven thief has remained up on deck.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel caught sight of lord Farque looking his way. Who slightly nodded his full helmed head to the elven magic user before the others went below deck, to see what was being served for dinner in the galley.
The elven masterthief, who also happens to be an elven princeling. Has made his way aft, and joins the lord of the death realm at the starboard rail.
To the right of the helmsman at the wheel, and the officer who is the watch captain. As the night crew of the small vessel are on duty now.
Knowing that the heavily armoured deathlord wants to speak to him about something.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril asks the undead warlord "What is it?".
"Did your sister ever speak to you about her travels out to this side of the continent, and her journey back home?" asks lord Farque who speaks in the royal elven language.
"Malindrin?" says Helbe the elven thief who definitely wasn't expected that.
"Unless you've got some other sister you don't know about, then yes Malindrin" dryly says the heavily armoured deathlord in the language spoken by elven royalty and nobles.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel has the decency to blush. While on his right shoulder, Narladene the ground pixie sourly smiles, as she doesn't understand the other elven language, and doesn't know what was said.
The elven master archer, who remembers that lord Farque and Dorc da Orc met his older sister Malindrin here in the far east of the continent, when they were chasing after the mage Reinholt.
Who fought alongside the two of them, in one of the wars in the Five Kingdoms nearly twenty years ago. And that Dorkindle fell in love with his older sister Malindrin.
Ruefully shakes his hooded head then says in the language of the elven royalty "Not much".
The son of princess Elendreal of Laerel, and Lord Althilgah the Warder of Quinthain, continues with "Just that she came out this way through a northern passage, obviously north of the equator" followed by "And she returned to the Southlands like you lot. Down south along the coast, though she went back by land, while you three went by sea".
Behind the faceplate of his full helm, the deathlord of Farque sourly smiles at the memory of that journey by sea. As it was quite possibly the most annoying journey he's ever taken. For the simple fact Dorc da Orc didn't stop complaining throughout it, as he absolutely hated being surrounded by water for weeks on end.
As they stand at the starboard rail, the undead warlord slightly nods, when the elven masterthief asks him "Want to know about those nations to the south of that desert?".
"The captain and his crew hardly know anything about them either" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque as a crew member lights a few of the ship's lamps, or running lights, as dusk turns to twilight and it becomes early evening.
Then after a brief pause, Draugadrottin looks at the elven princeling and asks him "Why the fuck was your sister out here anyway?" followed by "She never really did explain that to us".
Helbe the elven thief refrains from wincing, and he falls silent as he's reluctant to answer.
The elven magic user looks out and away from the airship as one of the moon rises in the east in the early evening sky.
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel glances at the tall, heavily armoured figure standing beside him, and finds the lord of the death realm looking at him.
"Well?" quietly says lord Farque, it doesn't exactly sound like a question, but more of an order from the undead warlord.
The elven masterthief clears his throat, then he quietly says "She was traveling out here because" councillor Raendril pauses for a moment or two, then he adds "She was looking for the fifth principality".
Behind the visor of his full helm, lord Farque raises an eyebrow in surprise, as he wasn't expecting that answer.
"I see" says the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who then asks "She have any luck?".
Shaking his hooded head no, the elven princeling says "She didn't" he then looks at the large, heavily armoured deathlord and asks him "You have any idea where it is?".
"No idea" replies Des'tier who knows that elven kind have been searching for the fifth principality of their's for thousands of years.
There's five principalities of elfdom, three of which are in the Southlands, while a fourth is also in the western half of the continent, though it's to the east and north of the Southlands.
Where the fifth elven principality is, no one really knows. It's not on the other main continent of the world of Volunell, where the former empire of Norstran is located.
It's also not on many of the islands scattered across the oceans around the two main continents. Though to this day, new islands and land masses are being discovered.
It's often thought, by those interested in the subject. Which isn't really that many, even amongst elfdom. That the fifth principality is a myth more than anything else. And if it did really exist, it not longer exists nowadays.
"Is it actually real?" quietly murmurs Helbe the elven thief, who sees lord Farque turn his head slightly, as if he's glancing over his shoulder.
The young elven noble knows he isn't actually doing that, but he's actually communicating with the massive sword strapped to his back.
"It's real" says Des'tier, prince Helbenthril Raendril then asks "Know where?" as he looks at the hilt of the undead warlord's family sword sticking up over his right shoulder.
"No" says the heavily armoured deathlord, who briefly pauses as he speaks with his sword, then he adds "Just somewhere on this continent".
"At least that's something" murmurs the elven magic user, who then slightly frowns, and quietly says "I've always thought it strange that most of elf kind are from or near the Southlands, and that the fifth principality is also on this continent too".
"Nothing strange about it" says lord Farque, who then adds in a dry tone of voice "The Southlands are where the gods appeared on our world, that's why basically every race of people you can think of lives there, compared to elsewhere in the world".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel blinks in surprise as he had never thought of that, then he nods his hooded head when the undead warlord adds "It's also why there's fuck more magic there than anywhere else".
"Hell, that makes sense when you think about it" murmurs Helbe the elven thief as their journey westwards all the way back to the otherside of the continent to the Southlands, upon the airship the Quick Gull continues this night . . . . . .