To War 43.

Summer. The Province Of Moleau.

Flying high above the southern part of the province of Moleau, is the command ship of the Farqian fleet.
Onboard the krean strikeship is Mira Reinholt the mage, who has just walked out of the wheelhouse.
And is making his way forward along the flat, mastless deck of the krean vessel after helping out some of the navigators.
The once powerful mage doesn't know if he's contributing all that much. Since he doesn't actually cast anything.
But another set of eyes, even his human ones are helpful to the krean practitioners of magic.
As the powerful spellcasters are watching a large number of the various forces in the first army of Farque scattered right across the south of the province of Moleau, and through the north of the province of Corlinda.
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, which he's in exile from.
Is always fascinated at how the krean navigators can cast viewing spells that can go vast distances.
And how some of them you can even hear what's going on, and the mage Reinholt would swear. Can even smell what they're looking at through their viewing spells.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Who had the potential to be a battlemage, or warmage as they sometimes referred to as. The first such one of his generation.
Who lost the majority of his magical powers when he went offworld, when he accidentally cast a rift/void instead of a regular rift spell.
Knows that even if he still had his vast stores of magical power at his disposal.
He still couldn't be able to cast anything close to the type of viewing spells, the krean navigators can cast with ease.
That kind of spell is beyond his ability and skill. He suspects it would take him years to master even the basics of such a spell.
The Vexilian mage in exile, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
Wraps his cloak around himself, as it's fairly cold this high up. Even though it's near the middle of summer, here in the kingdom of Melaurn.
The human spellcaster in the black hooded cloak is near the port rail, that's if the krean strikeship actually had rails.
After looking down towards the ground over fifteen thousand feet below.
That highly skilled swordmaster originally from the city-state of Vexil, who is now a member of the personal council to lord Farque.
Turns when he hears something behind him on the mastless deck. And he finds that the undead wardog Anvil has come up on deck.
The massive canine doesn't even glance his way as he makes his way towards the wheelhouse.
The undead wardog that weighs over fifteen hundred pounds, and stands at least six and half foot tall, closer to seven foot tall at the shoulders.
Stops near the door on the port side of the wheelhouse, and looks in.
The stubby, black tail of the massive canine starts wagging furiously when Anvil spots his master inside with the crew in the wheelhouse.
The exiled Vexilian swordmaster just shakes his hooded head as he watches the massive canine.
Then councilor Reinholt, who is part of a family that's owns one of the most important and influential, not to mention most successful trading companies, not just in Vexil, but in all the Southlands.
Goes back to looking down over the port side of the strikeship, down at the ground far below.
A little bit later, and the once powerful mage who has been looking at a hill range down in southern Moleau.
Heads back to the wheelhouse. The highly skilled swordmaster has to step around Anvil, who is lying down next to the wheelhouse, looking like he's asleep.
The mage Reinholt knows the undead wardog doesn't need sleep, but that doesn't stop him from lying down and getting what seems to look like sleep.
The Vexilian mage in exile steps into the wheelhouse, and makes his way to the back,  where lord Farque stands, leaning back against the bulkhead.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster is just about to say something to the undead warlord.
When lord Farque quietly says to him in the elven language "Word just came in".
The heavily armoured deathlord continues with "They've agreed to Gormica's proposal" followed by "The first of their armies will be leaving Ramaee this evening".
"That went well then" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage, who nods his head when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque quietly tells him "Didn't pay them all that much too" followed by "So both brothers are more than happy with that".
"I can well imagine" dryly murmurs the mage who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The Vexilian mage in exile is glad that lord Gormica of Salmah Forest was able to secure allies down in the port city of Ramaee.
As the nobleman from the province of Karricaw, even with the army of his twin brother, baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
Along with the first army of Farque that lord Gormica has continued to hire.
Was severely outnumbered by the forces of the crown and king of Melaurn, and their allies.
Now with the armies of the nobility of the province of Selvah Na joining him.
The lord of Salmah Forest is now only badly outnumbered.
With more of a fighting chance against the king and crown. Who are seeking retribution for the attacks upon the people of southern Moleau.
Which ironically, lord Gormica had nothing what's so ever to do with.
As those attacks were undertaken by lord Milson of Mottman Deep. One of his twin brother Wilmot's staunchest allies.
"Will they make that much of a difference?" quietly asks the mage Reinholt.
"Not for at least a couple of days" is the quiet reply of the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The large heavily armoured, undead warlord slightly frowns behind the faceplate of his full helm, as he watches the navigators, who are quietly discussing something.
A frown appears upon the dragon like face of the captain of the strikeship, who makes his way over to the trio of navigators in the wheelhouse.
While the ship's fourth, is below deck, where he's with the duty officer down below.
The viewing spells the navigators are watching, are on what's essentially the map table here in the wheelhouse.
And after the captain quietly speaks to the trio of powerful krean spellcasters about something, he turns towards the undead warlord.
"What is it?" asks lord Farque in the krean language.
"A problem my lord" says the captain of the strikeship in the same language.
"Show me" orders Draugadrottin, another name the people of the lands Farque know their lord by.
One of the navigators makes a slight gesture with his scaled right hand. And one of the viewing spells on the map table is suddenly enlarged, and in the middle of the wheelhouse, man height and infront of the heavily armoured deathlord.
The exiled Vexilian mage standing next to the lord of the death realm slightly frowns as he watches the viewing image.
That shows a few black clad soldiers, scouts and rangers by the looks of it, running through the countryside, either in southern Moleau, or northern Corlinda.
The perspective changes, and it's now looking down at the Farqian soldiers, and the image expands showing the countryside all around them.
And there in the direction they've obviously come from, there's riders in the distance who are pursuing them.
Mira Reinholt glances sideways at the large, heavily armoured figure standing beside him.
Then the image drops down towards the ground again as the Farqian soldiers run into some woods.
The viewing spell goes through the woods, where there's a few more of the black clad Farqian soldiers.
One of whom, the once powerful mage gets a glimpse of.
"Shit" mutters Mira Reinholt the mage, who then after glancing at lord Farque again, adds "It's Dalin".
The undead being, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer.
Is silent for a few moments, then nods his full helmed head when he sees the captain of the strikeship wants to say something.
"They've been chased since late yesterday afternoon is the navigators best guess" says the strikeship captain.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, winces when he hears that as the krean captain spoke in common.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque slightly nods, then after a moments pause, he asks in the krean language "Where?".
"In the far west of the province of Moleau, near the border with Romial" is the strikeship captain's reply in the same language.
"Can you get there?" asks the undead warlord.
"Close" replies the captain of the command ship of the Farqian fleet, followed by "But not right there".
Without even thinking about it, Draugadrottin orders "Get as close as you can, as quick as you can".
The krean captain shoots a glance at councillor Reinholt, then says to the lord of the death realm "My lord, the mage has to be taken below deck, and strapped into the dummy seat".
"Don't worry about it" says the heavily armoured deathlord, followed by "Just go quickly".
"It will be by quick dive my lord" states the krean strikeship captain.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque just nods his full helmed head. Then the ship's captain turns, starts calling out orders to the wheelhouse crew.
"What's going on?" asks Mira Reinholt, who of course, couldn't understand a single word of the ship's captain and the undead warlord's conversation.
Holding out his right arm, lord Farque says to the exiled Vexilian mage "Hold on" followed by "As tight as you can".
The once powerful mage momentarily pauses, then he blinks in surprise as he realises what's going on.
"Fuck" mutters the mage Reinholt, who quickly grabs lord Farque's armoured right arm, and holds onto it as tight as he can. As the krean strikeship suddenly goes into a steep dive.
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster knows he shouldn't be above deck and in the wheelhouse at the moment.
He should be below deck, strapped into the seat that the krean call the dummy seat.
It's for passengers who aren't krean, or undead beings. For when a krean vessel goes through a sky rift at acceleration.
"Cast a spell to hold on if you have to" says lord Farque, followed by "We're going through a quick dive".
The exiled Vexilian mage winces as he's gone through an accelerated dive like that once before.
Over on the continent across the Great Western Ocean, between the cities of Nors and Tran.
He clearly remembers it, or some of it, as he was briefly knocked out unconscious because of the speed of the accelerating krean scoutship he was on at the time.
Mira Reinholt quickly casts a strength spell and clings onto the right arm of the heavily armoured deathlord.
The once powerful mage's feet come off the decking as the command ship of the fleet goes into what's basically a vertical dive.
The swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil who feels like he's going to vomit, sourly smiles as the krean in the wheelhouse are all flapping their wings while they're in the air keeping themselves steady.
Lord Farque, who is just standing there, calls out something in the language he uses to command his wardogs.
And the mage Reinholt hears the undead wardog Anvil bark something in reply from out on the deck.
"Idiot" is what the once powerful mage hears the deathlord of Farque mutter, with what can only be described as affection.
Something councilor Reinholt has hardly even heard from the undead warlord in the years that he has known him.
Then as the krean captain and his first officer calmly call out orders.
And Mira Reinholt finds himself completely inverted, with his legs out behind him in the air, parallel to the decking as he holds onto the right arm of the heavily armoured deathlord.
The undead being glances at the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, and nods his full helmed head at the viewing spell that's still infront of them, and says "Send mageglobes once we're through" followed by "Anything to help them".
Mira Reinholt swallows as it feels like he's going to spew, and just nods in reply. And just hopes he doesn't throw up and is knocked out as they go through the ship's rift or sky rift, as it's sometimes called that the krean navigators have cast.
The mage looks through the viewing spell and out the front windows of wheelhouse as the strikeship that's pointing straight down to the ground, which it's accelerating towards.
The Vexilian mage in exile spots the ship's rift they're approaching at speed.
He doesn't know how fast they're going, but he suspects they're flying at well over a couple hundred knots, and getting faster.
Mira Reinholt closes his eyes, and feels lord Farque hold onto him with his right gauntleted hand.
And with the once powerful mage floating there essentially in a freefall at speed clinging onto the right arm of the undead warlord who just stands there.
The krean strikeship picks up speed even more as it shoots through the ship's rift.
Next thing Mira Reinholt knows, he drops to the decking, landing on his feet, standing upright as he continues to hold onto lord Farque's right arm with a strength spell.
The once powerful mage opens his eyes, and sees that though the krean strikeship vertically dived down into the sky rift. It has come out horizontal to the ground at speed.
The mage Reinholt quickly looks at the viewing spell infront of him and the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The once powerful mage lets go of Draugadrottin, drops the strength spell as he can now stand upright as the krean strikeship is slowing down.
And though he's little light headed, and is his stomach is doing back flips, as it feels like he could vomit at any moment.
He creates a mageglobe that goes flying from his gloved right hand, and out one of the windows along the front of the wheelhouse.
Mira Reinholt creates another mageglobe, followed by another one, both of which take off after the first . . . . . .