Winter.
Helbe the elven thief lowers the body of the wizard he's just killed to the floor.
The elven magic user retracts the spike puncher up into the right sleeve of his jacket. Then he takes off the amulet the wizard is wearing.
It like the other one on the first wizard he killed towards the east side of town.
Is on a necklace, which he quickly senses. And finds to be another single charge magical amulet.
Where the spell inside the gem, has to be charged every day for it to work. Unlike the one Mira Reinholt the mage wears, which is permanent.
The elven masterthief pockets the cheap magical amulet. Which along with the other he'll probably sell.
Then he stands up, and looks out the open window to his right. And with Narladene the ground pixie holding onto his right shoulder as she senses what he's about to do.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, shifts away.
The blurred and shielded elven spellcaster stands upon the roof of a two storey building towards the west side of town.
"Mira" says Narladene the ground pixie as they look towards the hillock about quarter of a mile to the south of the town of Fosturn.
"Mageglobe?" ask Helbe the elven thief as he senses southwards.
The tiny winged creature perched upon the right shoulder of the elven master assassin nods her head yes in reply.
The highly talented elven magic user senses for a mageglobe, which are notoriously difficult to sense and locate.
The elven masterthief in the white hooded cloak nods his head as he finally senses the mageglobe, which is underground.
Then the young elven noble who is a member of the royal family that rules the island principality of Laerel.
Eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he doesn't just sense one mageglobe, but three of them.
"Hell" mutters the elven master archer as he turns and looks away to the east of town, the direction the trio of mageglobes are heading.
On the east side of town, the forces of councilman Hirrye who are using Fosturn as a staging area for an upcoming attack upon the walled town of Gensa.
Have a number of wagon mounted ballista, as well as scorpions lined up along this side of town.
While just outside the eastern outskirts of town. Is a work yard that was built a few weeks ago.
There, catapults are being built. Along with small siege towers and scaling ladders for the planned attack upon the walled town of Gensa which lies further to the south and west, closer to the capital, here in the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
In the work yard are a number of recently built workshops, resembling barns.
Where engineers, and their workers. Carpenters and labourers. Cut, build and construct the war machines here in this part of the city-state.
In councilman Hirrye's efforts in the war against the ruling council of Kuradum.
Under the ground, speeding towards the east side of town from the wooden hillock that lies to the south of Fosturn. Are a trio of mageglobes created by Mira Reinholt.
As they near the town, the living pieces of magic. Which are following one another, less than five yards apart.
Move away from one another. With the first and second mageglobe veering away to the right.
While the third mageglobe, about the size of a small apple. Basically continues on straight ahead, slightly angling to the left.
The first piece of living magic, along with the second are heading towards the work yard on the outskirts of town.
While the last one, is heading directly towards the wagons lined up along the buildings, and homes on the east side of town.
The first mageglobe pops up from the ground, right amongst a pile of cut, and seasoned logs. Next to which are two uncompleted catapults.
The mageglobe, dark red in colour, comes to the end of it's rather brief existence.
And instant later, so does the second mageglobe, of similar colour. Which has shot up from the ground inside one of the barn like workshops.
Amongst some of the workers, who are just getting their day underway.
While a moment later, the third living piece of magic. This one a brighter red, shoots up out of the ground.
Between a pair of wagons, about halfway along the line of them that are lined up on this side of Fosturn.
The mageglobes being mageglobes. Which are the only living pieces of magic created by any human spellcaster.
Do what mageglobes do. And come to a predictable ending of their lives. They explode. In a typical, fairly predictable fashion as mage's creations goes. In a violent, and over the top manner, no matter how powerful the mage is.
There's a dark red explosion that rocks the early morning here in and around the town of Fosturn. To the east of town to be exact.
Wood and earth go flying in all directions, mainly up and out from the centre of the dark red, flaming explosion. Which is amongst a pile of logs used in the construction of catapults for councilman Hirrye's army.
Anyone caught up in that first explosion, are killed instantly. Mostly from flying debris. Which tears apart anyone it hits.
An instant later, there's another explosion. This one in the middle of the three workshops that have been recently built just outside the town of Fosturn.
The wooden building shatters apart in a fiery explosion, dark red in colour. Sending wood and other debris flying out from the epicenter of the explosion.
Which was right in the middle of the workshop. Next to a group of surprised workers, who were just getting their day started.
On what's a cold, and frosty morning here about a hundred and twenty miles to the north and east of the capital city of Kuradum.
As lethal debris goes flying out in all directions. There's a momentary pause after the second explosion.
Then there's a third explosion. This one right along the eastern edge of town.
An explosion that's slightly smaller than the first two. Though much brighter than the previous two.
And potentially more destructive. As it really is a fiery explosion amongst the line of wagons on this side of Fosturn.
Burning, liquid fire sprays out in all directions from the third explosion. Instantly consuming the two wagons it exploded between. Two wagons that had ballista mounted on them.
The liquid fire shoots across other wagons in the line. As well as spraying across a number of buildings and homes on this side of the fairly sizeable town here in the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
Further back from the line of wagon mounted ballista and scorpions. Are rows of fire and smoke wagons.
In them are dry materials, usually straw, under cover to protect them from the elements.
They're used to create smoke screens during a siege upon a defensive location. Like a castle, or a walled town.
A crow can be seen flying over the rows of fire wagons. Which start to live up to their name after the third explosion happens on the east side of town.
One after the other, the fire wagons on one of the rows start to catch on fire.
With the dry material in the back, in the wagon bed. Going up in flames in an instant.
As the raven, the familiar of Saanea the witch goes over that row of wagons.
The pretty looking witch has her raven fly back over the next row of fire wagons.
And one by one, they start to catch on fire. And true they're not engulfed in flames instantaneously like the wagons destroyed by the mage Reinholt's third mageglobe coming to the end of it's short existence.
They still catch alight quick enough, that those running around wondering who's attacking them.
Take a while to attempt to put them out. By the time they do, most of the fire wagons set alight by the witch from the Maldin Hills, are destroyed.
Suddenly one of the two remaining workshops, the one furthest from the edge of town.
Starts to glow a bright white light from a beam of light that has suddenly appeared in the early morning sky.
The white light is so bright, that after a while human eyes can't look upon it without tears flowing.
Then the workshop, the largest of the three recently built to the east of town. Shatters apart in complete silence.
Bits of wood, go flying in all directions. As do the equipment, and the materials inside of the workshop.
Not to mention the ten or so people inside of the workshop. Who were just getting underway for the day when the first explosion rocked the morning.
The silent explosion is so powerful that bits of debris go flying through and over the burning remains of the middle workshop.
And smash into the first of the workshops off to one side in the work yard.
Large chunks of flying timber go smashing through the side wall of the first of the workshops.
One large bit of lumber hits it so powerfully that goes in through one wall, and out the opposite wall.
And onwards, where it smashes into some of councilman Hirrye's soldiers. Who have run from town to see if they can put out the burning logs and catapults in the work yard.
"Looks like they're making a right old mess of the rebel councilman's war machines over there" quietly says Helbe the elven thief from the roof of a two storey building on the west side of the town of Fosturn.
On the right shoulder of the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
Narladene the ground pixie nods her head in agreement with the elven masterthief she's attached to.
The highly talented elven magic user senses another mageglobe come from the wooded hillock to the south of town.
This one he spots, as it pops up out of the ground a hundred yards south of Fosturn.
And as it heads towards the burning wreckage in the work yard to the east of town.
The elven master assassin who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, glances at Narladene the ground pixie, who winces as she says "That's going to be a nasty one".
A few moments later, and the elven master archer winces too. As the living piece of magic created by Mira Reinholt the mage comes to the end of it's short life, and explodes.
"Mira doesn't do things by half measures" dryly says the blurred and shielded elven magic user.
As he and the naturally magical creature from the Sunreach Mountains who is attached to him.
Watch the flaming ball of expanding fire, mushroom up into the morning sky from where the remaining workshop stood.
Helbe the elven thief winces again as can imagine the number of the enemy caught up in that fiery explosion from the mageglobe created by the spellcaster originally from the city-state of Vexil.
Then the elven princeling from Laerel and the ground pixie standing upon his right shoulder.
Watch as one by one, the small siege towers that have been completed. Get hit by a narrow shaft of white light that comes down from the morning sky.
Each time one of the siege towers is struck by the narrow shaft of white light, it shatters apart in a silent explosion.
The two of them watch the destruction away to the east of town for a bit.
Then the elven masterthief glances down at the nearby streets, where a fair few people. Both town folk and those in the army of councilman Hirrye stationed here.
Are running through the town, heading to the east side of Fosturn where the attack is taking place.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel spots a group of the enemy, predominantly officers, hurrying along a nearby street.
And as usual when an opportunity like this arises, the elven master assassin reads a few of their minds.
"Now look at who we have here" quietly says the highly talented elven magic user who has the ability to cast multiple spells at once.
Something of a rarity, as most practitioners of magic struggle to cast two spells at once.
"Who?" asks Narladene the ground pixie as she peers down at the passing enemy officers.
"The battalion commander here" replies prince Helbenthril Raendril, who follows that with "Best i go and get him, and take him with us".
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who is the envoy and chief negotiator for the armies of Farque. Shifts away from the rooftop he's on top of.
The next moment on a nearby street, the commander of the battalion of councilman Hirrye's army stationed here in the town of Fosturn.
Is running between a pair of his subordinates, heading east through town, on this cold winter's morning, here in the north of the city-state of Kuradum.
The next moment the battalion commander suddenly disappears from between two of his subordinates.
Who like the others in the group, suddenly stop, and wonder where the hell their commander has disappeared to . . . . . .
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