The City Of Tuledare.
"Anything?" quietly murmurs Helbe the elven thief as he stands at a window in the upstairs suite of the Traveler's Comfort inn, that Dalinvardèl Tanith the elven spy has been using.
"Nothing, like you suspected" replies Narladene the ground pixie who has just returned from checking up on something for the young elven noble she's attached to.
The highly talented elven magic user nods his hooded head, as he continues to look out of the window, and up into the afternoon sky.
The elven masterthief who has been looking for the bribes and the like, the ruling council members of Tuledare paid out in the lead up to the war.
Not to mention, who paid them to initiate the war. As from reading the minds of the council members he has taken prisoner.
Some of the upper echelon of Tuledarian society wanted this war against the city-state of Phamal to go ahead.
When most of the city-state of Tuledare couldn't care less about their nearest neighbour to the south.
The young elven noble, who is a member of the royal family of the principality of Laerel. Knows for a fact, some of the others responsible for the war are dead.
As a few of them, were owners of some of the counting houses to be found in the city of Tuledare.
It was one of the reasons the elven master assassin had Tamric Drubine the field commander target them, in the bombardment conducted by the Krean fleet attached to the Fifth Army of Farque.
"There's a few others here in the city" murmurs the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel to the tiny winged creature sitting upon his right shoulder.
A naturally magical creature who is invisible to the others here in the large upstairs suite with them at this time.
"I'll round them up after he gets here" murmurs prince Helbenthril Raendril referring to Lord Farque who is expected anytime soon.
The elven practitioner of magic who is a member of the personal council to the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque.
Infact, he's unofficially the leader of said council along with the seneschal of the Lands Farque, Kreece Van Der Linden the mage.
Is standing by himself at the window furthest from the others, who are predominantly around the large table in the main room of the large upstairs suite.
"How many are there?" quietly asks the ground pixie who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains.
"At least three" is the murmured reply from the elven master archer, who is the envoy for the deathlord of Farque.
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel, continues in a murmur with "Could be more, depending who survived the bombing by the fleet yesterday".
The naturally magical creature nods to that, then she looks out the window and up, and quietly says to the elven princeling she's attached to "They're coming through".
The elven master assassin in the white hooded cloak, nods then calls out to the others in the suite "They're here".
As he does, a sky rift, sometimes called a ship rift, appears high in the sky above the city of Tuledare. And out of it shoots a Krean scoutship.
The elven masterthief, watches the small, dark, mastless airship circle down over the western part of the capital city of Tuledare.
Then the highly talented and skilled elven magic user, looks to the nearby parade ground, of the Tuledarian army barracks, here in this part of the city.
The barracks themselves, have basically been destroyed. After being blasted apart by the Krean warships that attacked this part of the city yesterday afternoon.
The elven magic user, who is a spellcaster beyond compare. For the simple reason he's already created a number of new spells in his life so far.
When few if any practitioners of magic create a single new spell in their lifetime. Not dozens like prince Helbenthril Raendril has already done.
And he's fairly young for a royal elf, just over two hundred and twenty years old. Which is young for someone who could potentially live to be well over fifteen hundred years old.
Watches as the Krean scoutship descends towards the nearby parade grounds, here just to the west of the city center.
And as most of the others in the suite gather at the other windows, the young elven noble who hails from the island principality of Laerel, disappears as he shifts away.
An instant later, the elven master archer stands to the side of the parade grounds, here in the destroyed army barracks in this part of the capital city of Tuledare.
The highly talented elven practitioner of magic watches as the Krean scoutship quickly spirals down towards the ground.
And in short time, the small, sleek, dark, mastless warship from the Krean Protectorate, lands in the parade grounds.
The elven master archer spots Tovis the war engineer, standing on the deck in the company of a couple of Krean who he's talking to.
The elven princeling then nods his hooded head when Narladene the ground pixie whispers to him "There they are".
As Lord Farque along with Mira Reinholt the mage make their way out of the wheelhouse, that's to aft. The elven masterthief slightly frowns as it looks like his fellow spellcaster, Mira Reinholt looks a little worse for wear.
Infact the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque is keeping a large armoured hand upon the Vexilian mage in exile, who looks a little unsteady on his feet.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril nods again when Narladene whispers to him "The mage looks a little out of it".
Then the tiny winged creature, along with the elven magic user fall silent as they watch Lord Farque, Mira Reinholt the mage and Tovis the war engineer disembark from the Krean scoutship that has brought them to the city of Tuledare.
By the time the trio who have just arrived in the capital city, make their way to where the young elven noble stands waiting for them.
The deathlord of Farque has picked up the unsteady mage Reinholt, and slung him up onto his large, heavily armoured right shoulder.
After the elven master assassin greets the undead warlord and the war engineer, he indicates the once powerful mage, and asks "What's wrong with him?".
"Nothing" replies Lord Farque who continues on with "He just needs time to adjust being back here".
Helbe the elven thief nods, then asks the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque "So where did you end up?".
"Not fucking here, that's for sure" sourly says Mira Reinholt the mage as he's carried like a sack of potatoes over the right shoulder of the large, heavily armoured deathlord of Farque.
"I'll explain everything when we're all together" states the undead warlord who also has the name of Draugodrottin, that the people of his lands know him by.
They set off towards the Traveler's Comfort inn, where Lord Farque senses the rest of the group who are waiting there.
As they do, Des'tier which is Lord Farque's elven name that was given to him, when he was a teenager, quietly says in the royal elven language, a language that only Helbe the elven thief understands "So you've been up to something apart from the battle for the city I gather?".
The elven master assassin nods his hooded head, then quietly says in the same language "I have". He then tells the undead warlord what he's been up to. And how he's apprehended the ruling council of the city-state of Tuledare.
The highly talented elven magic user then tells the lord of the death realm, that he's tracking down the others who instigated the war against the city-state of Phamal.
"Societal leaders, and some of the wealthy here in Tuledare" quietly says prince Helbenthril Raendril in the royal elven language as they near the inn that's being used as the headquarters of Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"Some of them died during the attack on the city yesterday" states the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
"But there's others who are still about" continues the elven masterthief who is the envoy, a negotiator come ambassador on behalf of the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque.
The large, heavily armoured deathlord nods his full helmed head when he hears that from the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel.
Then the two of them fall silent as they make their way into the Traveler's Comfort inn. And with Mira Reinholt the mage still slung over the right shoulder of the undead warlord.
And with Tovis the war engineer following closely behind them, the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, and the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel.
Head upstairs to the suite where the rest of the group who travels with Lord Farque, are waiting for Draugodrottin . . . . . .
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