The Find 12.

Autumn.

In the pit. The middle of a cool autumn day.
"Out of the way you little prick" says a mercenary in an aggressive manner.
Causing Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit to quickly hop to one side, so he's not bowled over by a pair mercenaries.
The halfling from the otherside of the continent, the Sultanate of Dreese to be exact.
Glares at the backs of the two mercenaries who are continuing on their way down the busy street.
The hobbit who is a former air sailor, briefly contemplates drawing his long daggers, and cutting their hamstrings.
But he gives up on it as they're soon around the corner and out of sight down the northern end of the street.
The halfling who isn't what he appears to be, sourly smiles and shakes his head.
As he realises the two mercs were quite young. Probably still teenagers by the looks of it.
Who most likely have just signed up to one of the many of the mercenary companies.
Who live and work down here in the giant hole in the ground. Within which, is the ancient city of Dalphene.
Or as it's more commonly known as, The City of Ruins.
The hobbit who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque. Figures those two young mercs won't last long down here in the pit, with the attitude they're displaying.
The halfling, who previously served in the air fleet of the Sultan of Dreese. Guesses once the mercenary company those two youngsters belong to, leaves town and heads north.
They'll quickly be dead if they go about doing what they just did to councilor Littlefoot. In the more dangerous areas to the north, here in the City of Ruins.
The hobbit, who 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 the halfling from the Sultanate of Dreese.
Looks back down the street in the other direction. Waiting for the one, he's teamed up with.
As the group searches for the person they've traveled to The City of Ruins to find.
The hobbit former air sailor from the otherside of the continent. Soon spots the figure in the black hooded cloak heading in this direction.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman wryly smiles as people unwittingly step out of the way of the six foot tall figure in the black hooded cloak.
The halfling originally from the far east coast of the continent, shakes his head.
For though his fellow council member, Mira Reinholt the mage is no longer as powerful as he was when he was a younger man.
The spellcaster in his forties is still an intimidating figure in his black cowled and hooded cloak.
Who people instinctively know to avoid. For though the once powerful mage has mellowed as he's gotten older.
He's still deadly and quick to anger if one gets in the way of him, while he's doing something.
Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson knows that some of the others in the group are just like that. Chief amongst them being lord Farque, followed by Dorc da Orc.
The former air sailor who served in the air fleet of the Sultan of Dreese, also knows he's not such a person.
It's why those two young mercenaries a short time ago. Walked straight at him, forcing him to quickly hop out of the way.
Councilor Littlefoot refrains from sighing as the mage Reinholt walks straight at him.
With the people on the street he approaches. Parting for the spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil. His homeland, that he's in exile from.
"Find out anything?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit once he's joined by the once powerful mage on the side of the street.
Infront of one of the many buildings, that line this busy street. Here in one of the towns down near one of the giant stone ramps, that lead down into the giant hole in the ground.
In which is the ancient city of Dalphene, or the City of Ruins which it is more well known as.
"Nothing" replies Mira Reinholt the mage, who like his fellow councilor, is speaking in the elven language.
The Vexilian mage in exile stifles a yawn, then looking down at the halfling former air sailor, and says to him "Let's go get something to eat".
The spellcaster, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, continues with "It's after midday, and we've been at this since before dawn" followed by "And I'm hungry".
Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin, nods in agreement with his fellow member of the council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
Infact the halfling originally from the Sultanate of Dreese, was just going to suggest that to the swordmaster who is in exile from the city-state of Vexil.
As he too is feeling hungry, after they've searched throughout this town, since well before dawn this morning.
"There's a pretty good looking tavern back that way" says councilor Littlefoot, gesturing down the lane behind them.
"Let's go then" says Mira Reinholt, who like Jarjin Littlefoot, didn't expect to find anything useful here in town.
But he, like the halfling former air sailor. Was hoping they'd find some tidbit of information, dealing with the person that they, and the rest of the group, have come here to the City of Ruins to find.
The halfling who isn't what he appears to be, mentions this to his fellow councilor.
"Think we'll run across any info?" quietly asks Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman.
After shaking his head no, Mira Reinholt the mage replies with "Do you?".
"Not really" says the halfling former air sailor, who continues with "We'll still keep asking".
The spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Until he was stripped of the vast majority of his powers when he went offworld through a rift/void spell he cast a number of years ago.
Nods his hooded head in agreement with the hobbit who is originally from the Sultanate of Dreese.
Then he quietly says "Yeah, we'll still keep asking". As they, along with the rest of the group continue to search for the person they've traveled here to find.
The tavern turns out to be a lot better than the mage Reinholt expected.
Especially in such a town, which is basically a staging point for those who wish to move further north here in the City of Ruins.
The practitioner of magic, who was the youngest ever member of the mage council of Vexil.
Until he was kicked off it, and sent into exile for betraying his homeland, during the Battle of Vexil.
Finds the food of excellent quality in the tavern, and the ale and beer crisp and cold.
As he and Jarjin Littlefoot sit there eating their midday meal, the once powerful mage waves over the serving woman who has been attending to them.
"You wouldn't of happened to seen this person before?" asks the Vexilian mage in exile, gesturing at the piece of parchment paper he's put down on the table.
"Can't say that i have" is the reply of the serving woman after she looks at the illustration on the piece of paper.
"Will that be all?" asks the serving woman, followed by "Will you be wanting anything else?".
"No, that's fine" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
"Thank you" adds the mage in the black hooded cloak, who like the hobbit sitting with him at the table, is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The serving woman, a slightly plump woman in her late twenties, nods then moves away.
Both Mira Reinholt and Jarjin Littlefoot watch her for a few moments, then the two of them share a look as they both noticed the hesitation she had before answering the mage Reinholt's question.
"She's lying" quietly says the halfling former sir sailor in the elven  language.
"Even i could tell that" quietly adds the hobbit from the far east coast of the continent.
The once powerful mage nods his hooded head, then quietly says "She was".
The exiled Vexilian mage who has taken the advice from Helbe the elven thief a couple of nights ago.
Has only been casting on those they speak to with a simple truth spell. He hasn't been reading their minds, due to him being unsubtle when it comes to such spells.
Even if he didn't just cast then, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster.
Could tell the serving woman he just spoke to was lying.
The mage Reinholt rolls up the parchment paper, and returns it to an inner pocket of his cloak.
As he does, the once powerful mage quietly adds "The serving woman who greeted us at the door" followed by "And the tavern keeper behind the counter don't know".
"You sure?" asks Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson, who continues on with "They could of been lying when we spoke to them earlier".
"No, they certainly don't know" quietly says the councilor Reinholt, who gestures to their server, who has just gone into the kitchens, as he quietly adds "But she's hiding something".
The hobbit, who hails from the Sultanate of Dreese, which been be found on the far east coast of the continent.
Quietly says to his fellow councilor "Finish up your meal" followed by "Then we'll have a quiet word with her".
The practitioner of magic originally from the city-state of Vexil nods his hooded head.
And gets stuck into the last of his meal, while Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin. Downs the last of the ale in his mug.
A short while later, after the halfling former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese has a quiet word with the tavern keeper.
The two of them find themselves out behind the tavern. In a small courtyard that has a well in it. With a small storage shed beneath a tree.
Trees not exactly being common down on the floor of the pit, where the ground is quite sandy.
Though vegetation is quite abundant along the walls of the giant hole in the ground.
Where there's vines and creepers everywhere. Not to mention trees growing out at funny angles from the pit walls.
Sitting on the edge of the well, Jarjin Littlefoot quietly says to his fellow councilor "Here she comes".
The once powerful mage nods as he looks at the backdoor of the tavern. Which opens up, and the serving woman who attended them during their meal, steps outside.
She was told by the tavern keeper to go out back and get something from the storage shed.
But in actual fact, the hobbit from the far east coast of the continent. Paid the tavern keeper to send the serving woman out to the back courtyard so that the halfling former air sailor, and the highly skilled swordmaster can speak to her.
The serving woman pauses, and is just about to turn and walk back inside.
When she suddenly decides to speak to the hobbit, and the human in the black hooded cloak.
"She's not going anywhere" murmurs Mira Reinholt the mage to Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit.
The halfling originally from the Sultanate of Dreese nods, knowing that the exiled Vexilian mage has just cast a spell of some kind on the serving woman.
Switching to the common language, the mage Reinholt says to the serving woman "A word with you".
She steps forward to be closer to the well, and the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Says to the serving woman "You weren't exactly telling me truth earlier we're you?".
She slowly nods after she looks from one councilor to the other, then she says "I wasn't".
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster nods his hooded head, then he asks "So do you know them then?".
The serving woman shakes her head no, then says "I don't" followed by "But i saw them, came into the tavern at the start of the autumn wanting a job".
She continues with "I was the only one in at that early in the morning, and told them Harvsmit wasn't hiring" she briefly pauses before adding "But he actually was".
Both the once powerful mage, and the hobbit former air sailor nod.
Then the halfling from the far east coast of the continent takes over the questioning, and asks "Do you know where they went after coming into the tavern?".
"Just that they couldn't get a job in town, they'd be joining one of the companies and heading north" is the reply from the plump looking serving woman.
"Do you know which mercenary company?" asks Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman.
"No sorry i don't" is the reply from the serving woman, who continues with "It could be any of them, as there's so many of them down here in the pit".
The mage Reinholt nods his hooded head, then he asks the serving woman "The start of autumn you say?".
She nods, before telling them "About two weeks after the days started turning cool down here".
The two members of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque share a look.
Then the halfling former air sailor quietly asks in the elven language "Anything else?".
"That's all she knows" quietly says the highly skilled swordmaster in the same language.
Then switching to the common language, the Vexilian mage in exile says to the serving woman "Thanks for that".
The two of them walk away, heading around to the front of the tavern, while the serving woman heads to the storage shed at the back of the courtyard.
"So, three or four weeks then" quietly says Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit.
"Three more like" says Mira Reinholt the mage, who continues with "The weather turns cooler down here later than it does up top".
"Three weeks is still a long time" says the halfling former air sailor, who continues with "If they did join up with a mercenary company, they could be anywhere up in the northern half of the pit".
"Or up the lands to the north of the City of Ruins" says the once powerful mage as they make their way out onto the street infront of the city.
Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson slightly grimaces at the mention of that, then he sourly says "I was trying my best to forget about up there".
For he, not to mention all the others in the group. Know that for all the dangers that the City of Ruins has to offer.
It'll be easier to find the one they're looking for, down here in the giant hole in the ground.
While the countryside for about forty or so miles lying north of the City of Ruins.
Which along with the most of that northern half of the massive pit, made up the ancient kingdom of Gilbanath.
It will be far more difficult to find the one the group is looking for, up there in the open countryside north of the massive hole in the ground.
Within which is the ancient city of Dalphene, or as it's more commonly called, the City of Ruins.
Jarjin Littlefoot the hobbit sighs at the prospect of searching up to the north of the pit, as he and Mira Reinholt the mage go off to find some of the others to tell them what they've found out . . . . . .