To War 73.

Summer. Corlinda. Melaurn.

Mira Reinholt the mage looks over to the surgeons and healers tents. Where he's just seen lord Gormica of Salmah Forest make his way into one.
The once powerful mage looks at Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit standing beside him, who quietly says in the elven language "He's checking on sir Holjma".
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, which he's in exile from. Nods his hooded head as the halfling from the far east coast of the continent, the Sultanate of Dreese to be exact, quietly adds "Beldane healed him, but he's still not completely right".
The hobbit, who like the mage Reinholt, is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, then says "Beldane says he needs rest for a day or so, then he'll be right".
The two of them, continue on their way, heading up the slight rise that overlooks where the army has set up camp.
There's no rain, nor drizzle in this part of northern Corlinda. But the day is overcast, with gray skies above them in all directions.
The army, predominantly made up of the combined armies of the provinces of Karricaw and Corlinda.
Were victorious against the enemy. The king's own army who had crossed over into the province of Corlinda, from the province of Moleau.
And though they didn't totally annihilate the enemy army. They did wipe out a large proportion of the enemy army.
And left the remainder of them retreating to the north. Back all the way to the border, and across into the province of Moleau.
Mira Reinholt, and Jarjin Littlefoot along with their fellow councilor, Helbe the elven thief.
Are happy enough with the result of the battle. But they're more happy that the armies led by lord Gormica of Salmah Forest, and his twin brother, baron Wilmot of Pirtgott.
Actually fought together for the first time, and gave a good accounting of themselves against an army of the king's own.
Up the rise, which is essentially a small hill. The once powerful mage and the halfling former air sailor.
Find the prisoner, under the watchful eye of his guards. A trio of black clad Farqian soldiers.
"They definitely made a mistake putting him in command" quietly says councilor Littlefoot as they look at the city lord.
The halfling who isn't really what he appears to be, then adds "They should of definitely had that general Tam captured in command of them, instead of him".
The Vexilian mage in exile nods his hooded head in agreement with the hobbit, who is a former air sailor, who served in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese.
"Didn't get much useful information from him either" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage.
The halfling from the far east coast of the continent, who in actuality. Is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, by the name of Zubutai Timaginson.
Who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Jarjin Littlefoot. Who died in a battle last summer, in his homeland, the Sultanate of Dreese.
Nods his head in agreement with the once powerful mage, while looking around in all directions. Though paying particular attention to the north.
Whilst the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
Watches the nobleman from the capital city Calinar. Who sits there on the damp ground, head cast down, looking at the grass between his boots.
The mage, who is a member of one of the most influential, not to mention wealthiest trading families. Not just in Vexil, but in all the Southlands.
Looks at his fellow council member, who quietly says "What's that?".
"What's what?" asks the spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he lost the vast majority of his powers, when he went offworld through a rift/void spell he accidentally cast.
The exiled Vexilian swordmaster looks to the north, to see what Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman is looking at.
"I don't know" says Mira Reinholt, who continues on with "You're the one with the better eyesight".
"Can't quite make it out" mutters the halfling who is a former air sailor.
The mage Reinholt thinks about taking out his leather wrapped, brass cylindrical eyepiece.
But he doesn't bother, and instead casts a farsight spell upon himself instead.
"Hmmmm don't see anything" quietly says the once powerful mage as he looks away to the north.
The cloudy skies doesn't make things easy to see, and it's a few moments later when councilor Reinholt finally sees it.
"Wyvern and rider" quietly says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
"Heading west" adds the practitioner of magic who at the age of seventeen, 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 during the Battle of Vexil.
"Thought it was" says Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson, who follows that with "One of their's I'm guessing?".
"Definitely" says Mira Reinholt, who then nods his hooded head, then quietly adds "Maybe".
In response to his fellow councilor the hobbit, asking him "Can you get it from here?".
As the wyvern and it's rider, is easily fifteen miles away to the north. Basically over in the province of Moleau, as it heads westwards in the cloudy skies.
The spellcaster in the black hooded cloak creates a mageglobe in his right gloved hand, which takes off, heading north over the camp below. In pursuit of the wyvern heading westwards to the north of their position.
"It either gets it, or it doesn't" says the mage Reinholt to the halfling who is a former air sailor.
"Too damn faraway for me to do anything else" continues the once powerful mage, who then adds "And it's getting further away too".
Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin nods in understanding. As in one of the many lives he's been in the last fifteen years, has been as a practitioner of magic.
When he was the Kail Arriss the sorceress. And he knows all about the limitations of spellcasting.
The two of them look down the rise they're up, and spot Beldane the cleric making his way up here.
The fighting cleric, who was in the thick of the battle yesterday. More so than any of the three members of lord Farque's personal council who are with this particular army.
Walks up to where the mage and the former air sailor are standing on the top of the rise.
After glancing at the dejected looking prisoner sitting on the ground.
Beldane the cleric asks Mira Reinholt in the elven language "Why did you do that?".
Referring to the mageglobe the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil just created, and sent on it's way.
"Enemy wyvern" is the laconic reply of the practitioner of magic, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
The cleric originally from the kingdom of Nastell, looks to the north, where the mage Reinholt gestures.
Beldane, who is a member of the church of Glaine. A god predominantly worshiped in the north of his homeland, Nastell.
Frowns as he tries to look for a wyvern and it's rider, in the distance to the north.
The fighting cleric in the halfplate armour who can't see Mira Reinholt's mageglobe, but can just sense further away to the north, and getting even further away.
Eventually nods his head, after casting a spell similar to farsight, so that he can see in the distance.
"That's quite far" murmurs the churchman from northern Nastell, who doesn't have any specific rank or position in the armies of Farque.
He's just a member of the group that travels around with lord Farque himself.
The powerful spellcaster, who can barely see the wyvern and it's rider against the gray skies, more than seventeen miles away now.
Even with the cleric's equivalent of a farsight spell cast upon himself, says to his fellow practitioner of magic "Will your mageglobe get it?".
"Maybe" is the reply of Mira Reinholt the mage with a shrug of his shoulders.
Who then drops the farsight spell he's cast, then turns to look at the prisoner.
"What do we do with him then?" asks the Vexilian mage in exile, who follows that with "He hasn't exactly been a fountain of information".
Jarjin Littlefoot turns and looks at the prisoner too, as does Beldane the cleric after he drops the spell he's been casting.
"Not sure" says the halfling who is a former air sailor, who was part of the fleet in the Sultanate of Dreese.
Rubbing his chin, a habit he's had since he was actually Zubutai the barbarian hordesman.
The hobbit who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, adds "We might want to find out how things went for Dalin in the capital".
Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin, continues on with "How that general was received at court, and what were the crown's replies to those terms we sent".
Nodding his hooded head in agreement, Mira Reinholt the mage says "That might be for the best".
As the three of them look at the nobleborn prisoner, the once powerful mage from the city-state of Vexil says "Since he's a favourite of the dowager queen, he might come in handy" followed by "Probably best if we didn't kill him out of hand".
Both the former air sailor, and the fighting cleric nod in agreement with the once powerful mage.
Then the spellcaster who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, looks from the dejected looking prisoner.
To the practitioner of magic standing on his left, and the hobbit who is a member of lord Farque's personal council on his right, and he asks them in elven "Anyone seen the royal thief?".
The mage Reinholt then dryly adds "He's probably out stealing something knowing him".
Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson grunts in agreement, then tells the Vexilian mage in exile "He went north with those who chased after the remnants of the enemy army".
The halfling who is member of lord Farque's personal council, then adds "He could be anywhere at this time".
Helbe the elven thief is walking through some woods, when he comes to a stop when he thinks he senses something approaching from the south.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, frowns when he turns and looks to the south.
He's pretty sure he sensed something to the south, but he just can't sense it at the moment.
"I'm sure there's something there" Helbe the elven thief murmurs to himself.
The highly talented elven magic user, who as usual when he's out and about, is blurred and shielded.
Senses again, concentrating as he does so. As he's certain there's something magical coming this way.
Then the elven masterthief, who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel, mutters "Shit".
As he realises what it is he's sensed. They're notoriously difficult to sense anyway. And he's just able to sense it again. Mere moments before he spots it coming through the trees to the south of him.
The elven master assassin, who is one of the members of the personal council to lord Farque.
Moves to one side, as he sees he's basically in the path of it, as it comes flying through the trees in this direction.
The young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
Grimaces as it barely passes by him, as it continues on it's way northwards through the woods.
"Damn stupid things" mutters the elven spellcaster as he turns and watches the dull red coloured ball of light, about the size of a small apple heading through the woods.
The elven princeling from Laerel sourly smiles as he watches the mageglobe go through the trees, before losing sight of it. And once again he's unable to sense it.
The elven archer is just glad the living piece of magic wasn't sent to him. As you can never be too certain what they'll do.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel who is across the border in the province of Moleau, continues on his way.
He shifts away, as he too heads northwards. Though more to the northeast. Unlike the mageglobe which was heading northwest.
A short time later, and prince Helbenthril Raendril is walking near the edge of the woods.
Where Narladene the ground pixie suddenly appears on his right shoulder, and quietly says "Was that one of Mira's mageglobes i sensed a little while ago?".
The elf who is the envoy for the armies of Farque, grunts in the affirmative to that.
Then he quietly says "Dull red coloured one, heading to the northwest".
"A deadly one then" says the naturally magical creature who is attached to the young elven noble who hails from the island principality of Laerel.
"That's no surprise" dryly says the highly talented elven spellcaster.
Who after a brief pause, murmurs "I wonder who Mira has sent it to kill?".
The tiny winged creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains, nods in agreement.
Then she takes off, heading straight up into the cloudy skies above.
She returns a short time later, and says to elven master assassin "There's a wyvern and rider in the distance to the west" the ground pixie continues with "It's after them".
Councilor Raendril nods his hooded head, and quietly says "One of their messenger riders".
Narladene nods in agreement with that, as the elven master archer continues walking towards the edge of the woods.
Once he's at the treeline, the blurred and shielded elven magic user, quietly asks the tiny winged creature standing on his right shoulder "Anymore of them about?".
"There's some about two miles to the northeast" is the reply from Narladene the ground pixie.
Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head as he looks at the rough camp of some of the enemy who survived yesterday's battle, who have fled north into the province of Moleau.
"Let's see what we can find out then" murmurs the elven princeling as he makes his way towards the king's own camp.
In search of any of their officers and noblemen who survived the battle, to find out any useful information.
The blurred and shielded elven master assassin will then kill any of them who are of high rank that he finds here . . . . . .