To War 2.

Summer. Melaurn.

Mira Reinholt the mage looks up from the book he's reading, and looks down the road again.
He looks south along the road for a while, before he goes back to reading the book in his lap.
It's a book written by a wizard three centuries ago. Detailing the effects on spells concerning time.
The book, a copy of a copy of the original. Is more concerned about theories than actually anything practical.
Something of a misnomer concerning mages. As their brand of magic is all about practicalities, and very little to do with theory.
Nevertheless, the subject of the book is more than interesting to the mage, 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 after going through a rift/void spell he accidentally cast.
The mage Reinholt pauses from reading the book, as the serving woman comes out, and refills his mug of ale.
And though the ale is cool on this warm summer day. The spellcaster originally from the city-state of Vexil touches the mug, and with a thought makes the ale cold.
He takes a satisfying sip of the cold ale, looks down the road to the south for a bit, before he goes back to reading the leather bound book in his lap.
The mage, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster. Who is a member of the personal council of lord Farque.
Is on the covered front porch of a small tavern in a town in the province of Moleau, in the kingdom of Melaurn.
Just down the road to the south of town, is the province of Corlinda.
One of two provinces in the south of the kingdom, that's preparing for war.
The spellcaster who was the youngest ever member of the mage council of Vexil.
Until he was kicked off it, and sent into exile when he betrayed his homeland in a time of war.
Has been here in town for the last few days, after traveling south down through Melaurn from the lands Farque.
The once powerful mage who is enamoured with the book he's brought along with him.
One of a few books he's actually brought along with him.
Is waiting for something as he goes to the codex in the book. To check on one of the subjects in the book.
He quickly does, then turns to amother page in the leather bound book.
"The consequences of time upon spellcraft" murmurs Mira Reinholt the mage as he briefly reads a passage outloud in the book.
The exiled Vexilian mage who is alone on the front porch of the tavern continues reading in silence.
Slightly frowning as he reads a theory he instinctively disagrees with.
How certain spells, even basic, not very difficult ones can create ripples in time, that can effect everything around them.
The highly skilled swordmaster as he sits there at a table wearing his light weight black, summer cloak with the hood up.
Jerks his head back in surprise at what pops up out of the pages of the book as he puts it down on the table infront of him.
"Do you mind?" mutters the mage Reinholt in the elven language.
"Not in the least" replies Narladene the ground pixie as she sits upon the page the once powerful mage is reading.
Mira Reinholt refrains from sighing, and dryly says in elven "It was".
In response to the tiny winged creature asking him "Interesting read?".
The member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, closes the book on the ground pixie.
Which of course, doesn't effect the naturally magical creature at all. As it just passes through her, and she ends up sitting on top of it.
"Well?" asks the spellcaster who is a member of one of the most powerful, and wealthy trading families.
Not just in his homeland of Vexil where they're based, but right across the Southlands.
Follows that with "Where is he?" as he looks down the dirt road to the south, that goes into the next province that way, the province of Corlinda.
"He's on his way" replies the tiny winged creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains.
The naturally magical creature pauses for a few moments, then she looks up at the human spellcaster, and quietly tells him "A delegation is with him".
One of the eyebrows of the mage Reinholt shoots up in surprise when he hears that. As he definitely wasn't expecting that.
"They want to go up north?" asks the Vexilian mage in exile.
Referring to up north out of the kingdom of Melaurn, and into the lands Farque.
"They do" is the reply from Narladene, who gets up and stretches as she looks around.
"Hopefully they make it out of the kingdom" dryly says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
The ground pixie makes a face at that, but she does nod her tiny head in agreement with the human practitioner of magic.
As delegations representing the nobles of both Corlinda and Karricaw have gone north through the summer so far.
Traveling to the lands Farque, and though a few have made it. Just as many haven't, as they've been attacked as they've tried to go through the provinces to the north of Karricaw and Corlinda.
By the otherside of their conflict of course. As they try to outbid one another as they attempt to hire one of the armies of Farque for their immanent war.
"This lot will go a different way" says Narladene, who continues on with "They'll cut through the bottom of this province, and the one to the east of here".
"Mofosild" says the mage Reinholt naming the province to the east of Moleau.
The tiny winged creature nods, then says "Then out onto the tundra, then up into Farque's lands" followed by "Probably safer that way instead of going all the way up through the kingdom to the border".
"Probably" says the highly skilled swordmaster in agreement.
As the barbarian hordes out on the tundra tend to ignore travelers from the kingdom of Melaurn.
They'd rather be fighting one another, than anyone else. As the various hordes don't particularly get along with one another when they cross each others territories.
"Quicker out on the tundra too" says the naturally magical creature that hails from the Sunreach Mountains.
Looking down the road that leads to the next province to the south, the Vexilian mage in exile spots a group of riders coming up the road from the neighbouring province of Corlinda which is just six miles or so away to the south of town.
As the riders get closer, the once powerful mage spots his fellow council member, Helbe the elven thief amongst them.
"Does he know how much they want to pay now?" quietly asks Mira Reinholt.
"Of course" says the ground pixie who is attached to the elven masterthief.
"How much?" asks the once powerful mage, whose eyebrows shoot up when Narladene tells him how much the delegation from the province of Corlinda are willing to pay for the hire of one of the armies of Farque.
"That's definitely way more than their last offer" quietly says the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil.
"And more than the last offer from that lot over in Karricaw" adds the mage who is now in his latter thirties, nearly forty years old.
"Think he'll accept it?" quietly asks the tiny winged creature referring to lord Farque.
"I think so" replies the practitioner of magic who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
"Especially considering that last offer from that lot in Karricaw is more than what they can actually pay" adds councillor Reinholt, who then asks Narladene "Can they pay it?" as he nods his hooded head towards the approaching riders.
"They can" answers the naturally magical creature, who after pausing adds "Just".
The mage Reinholt nods, then quietly says "Well i guess we'll be fighting for the province of Corlinda sometime later this summer".
"Looks like it" says the ground pixie as they continue to watch the riders come up the road to town.
They stop in town, conveniently at the tavern where Mira Reinholt has been waiting this morning.
The exiled Vexilian mage joins his fellow councillor the elven magic user as the delegation get something to drink and eat before they continue on their way.
"How were the negotiations this time?" asks the swordmaster Reinholt, who then adds "Difficult?".
"Not too bad" replies Helbe the elven thief as they stand to the side of the tavern's front porch, quietly talking in the elven language.
"Seems they found out the amount that last offer from Karricaw was" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
Which lies across the Kuyriers Straits from the coast of the kingdom of Melaurn and the lands Farque.
"They offered just a bit more than that" continues the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
"I refused, until they offered something more" adds the highly talented elven spellcaster.
The once powerful mage nods his hooded head, and looks at some of the delegation who have come out onto the covered front porch of the tavern.
Then he quietly asks his fellow councillor "The baron isn't with them i see". Referring to the noble who is the chief protagonist on the Corlinda side in their conflict with the province of Karricaw.
"No he didn't come along" says prince Helbenthril Raendril, who continues on with "The one with the short blond hair, wearing the chainmail is his son".
The Vexilian mage in exile nods as he sees the noble described by the elven master assassin, who tells him "He's younger than all the others, but he's the most important one out of the lot".
The elven masterthief follows that with "We definitely have to keep him alive" he continues on with "Not just up to Farque, but also back down here into the kingdom".
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, nods his hooded head, then quietly says "Then that's what we'll do".
They set off again before midday, with the mage Reinholt joining them.
They continue traveling north until the middle of afternoon, when they take a road that goes east, towards the province of Mofosild.
The delegation from Corlinda is nearly thirty strong, with a handful of the nobility from that province. Some of their retainers, and the rest guards from the various noble households.
The two most important in the delegation is a sir Jinpel. Not a particularly prominent nobleman. Except he's one of the commanders of their combined forces.
And the other is baron Wilmot's son, Krissner. The son of the chief protagonist in the conflict between the provinces of Corlinda and Karricaw.
A conflict that's over the most obvious of things. The shared border between two neighbouring provinces in the south of the kingdom.
Mira Reinholt finds himself riding alongside the teenager Krissner, and sir Jinpel.
His fellow council member Helbe the elven thief has disappeared, and gone ahead to scout the way.
For though they're in a neutral province. That doesn't mean there isn't any danger for the delegation.
For their enemies in the province of Karricaw could be here in Moleau.
Waiting for the opportunity to attack anyone from the province of Corlinda.
"Actually i haven't, even though I've been here in Melaurn a number of times" says Mira Reinholt in response to the young noble Krissner, asking him if he's ever fought in any conflict here in the kingdom of Melaurn in the past.
"The envoy has" says the once powerful mage referring to Helbe the elven thief.
"In that war between two lords up in the province of Sorros one winter, about fifteen years ago" adds the swordmaster Reinholt.
Sir Jinpel winces when he hears that, then he says "Bad business that was by all accounts".
The nobleman, a lean looking fellow just a few years older than the mage Reinholt continues with "Stirred up things so much, that the only dragon in the kingdom that was living up there, got involved in all of it".
Nodding his head, young Krissner says "It was killed during that, wasn't it?". "So i believe" says sir Jinpel.
The Vexilian mage in exile nods his hooded head in agreement. Not mentioning that the elven envoy they've been negotiating with. Is the one who brought down that dragon, and ultimately killed it during that winter war in the province of Sorros fifteen years ago.
A time when Mira Reinholt the mage wasn't even on the world of Volunell.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster. Who still can't remember much of his time offworld on the otherside of the void he accidentally created.
Does know that he lost most of his vast amounts of magical power at that time.
When his fellow councillor, prince Helbenthril Raendril. And others in the group. Well, the group as it was at the time.
Were in the middle of war between two local lords in the province of Sorros, here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
The three of them continue chatting as they ride predominantly through farmland here in the south of the province of Moleau.
"I can't quite place your accent Mira" says baron Wilmot's son Krissner.
"I'm from Vexil" says the spellcaster who was once more powerful than any other mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
"It's in the central region of the Southlands" says the mage Reinholt when the two nobles from Corlinda ask where that exactly is. They've both heard of it, but don't know where it is.
"It's a city-state about four thousand miles north of here" says the highly skilled swordmaster.
Who doesn't mention that the people of Vexil, and pretty much everyone else in the lands in the central regions of the Southlands, and further north.
Don't even know that the kingdom of Melaurn even exists. Nor the lands Farque, and pretty much every other ruled land or nation in the southern region of the Southlands exists.
As they chat, mainly about the various lands, nations, principalities, and kingdoms throughout the Southlands, that the Vexilian mage in exile has visited.
The highly skilled swordmaster spots his fellow spellcaster in the distance.
Seems the young elven noble is only visible to him, as the two nobles from the province of Corlinda don't see him on the side of a hill next to the road.
Then the mage Reinholt feels the elven princeling get in contact with him by a mindspeech spell.
Trouble, says Helbe the elven thief by way of mindspeech to his fellow councillor Mira Reinholt . . . . . .