Vexil.
"So where exactly are we going?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage as they head along another street, heading southwards through the city of his birth, Vexil.
"Around" is the extremely dry response from Lord Farque who walks between the mage Reinholt and Helbe the elven thief.
The once powerful mage who knows better than to push it, instead steps back, then steps behind the undead warlord, and again behind the elven masterthief, so that he's now to the left of the young elven noble who hails from the island principality of Laerel.
The large heavily armoured figure of the deathlord of Farque moves more to the right, giving the two spellcasters who are members of his personal council more room.
The Vexilian mage in exile who has returned to his homeland, for the short amount of time the group are planning to stay here, changes the subject.
And says to the elven master assassin who is now to his right "Did you find any?" referring to what the highly talented elven magic user was intending to find, while he was at the Mage College of Vexil.
"A couple of them" replies Helbe the elven thief, who after a quick glance back at the rest of the group who are following them, then leans towards his fellow spellcaster, and quietly tells him "Though I don't think Beldane will approve of one of them" he briefly pauses before adding "Because it's unholy".
A snort comes from the large heavily armoured figure walking beside the two practitioners of magic, then the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque says "No it's not".
"You sure?" asks the elven master archer, who for a noble elf, is particularly young at just under two hundred and thirty years old.
"Of course I'm fucking sure" says Lord Farque who at over six foot, six inches in height, and weighs just under three hundred pounds.
Absolutely towers over Mira Reinholt and Helbe the elven thief, who are six foot, and six foot, two inches in height respectively.
"I'm unholy remember" adds the lord of the death realm, who looks like a moving steel statue as he walks in the late morning sunshine, on what's a cold late autumn morning here in the city of Vexil.
"Apparently" dryly adds the undead warlord which causes both practitioners of magic to grin as they walk alongside Lord Farque.
After a few moments, the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel says to his fellow spellcaster "I'll have to find the rest elsewhere in the city".
"I know of a number of places" says Mira Reinholt who does indeed know of various sellers of magical curios to be found here in the city of Vexil.
Marn Webb runs down a lane that heads south here in this part of the city of his birth. And though he might of felt a little under the weather earlier thanks to his night of drinking.
He's more than alert now, as he runs, breathing heavily, whilst looking away to his right, at the various lanes, alleyways and small side streets in that direction.
With a grunt of determination, Marn Webb mutters "Got him" as he spots a couple of unmistakable looking figures in the group he's chased after.
One an ork, and another a strange, foreign looking monk, at the tail end of the group, who he spots down through an alleyway, on one of the main streets that passes through this part of the largest city, by population in The Southlands. Only the sprawled out coastal city of Brattonbury is larger in size than Vexil.
"You're going to pay Mira" mutters Marn Webb as he clutches his dagger, and heads to the next lane to the right, which is after another alleyway.
Marn who knows the nearby main street is curving away to the right, can make it down the lane and quickly get to those at the front of the group.
There's a look of fierce determination on the face of the usually slovenly, and lazy Marn Webb as he runs to take revenge on the individual who killed his older brother Mance nearly thirty five years ago.
"Best in potion form" says Helbe the elven thief as they walk by another alleyway to their left, the highly talented elven magic user continues with "Far more stable than a scroll" he dryly follows that with "Especially one you don't know who wrote it".
Mira Reinholt the mage nods his hooded head in agreement with his fellow spellcaster and council member, as they approach another lane on their left just up ahead.
The once powerful mage who knows this part of the city fairly well, as he spent a lot of his youth here in this part of the city, a fair distance from the posh, opulent neighbourhood his family's mansion is located in.
The mage Reinholt is just about to say something to his fellow practitioner of magic when he's suddenly yanked sideways by Lord Farque, behind the young elven noble.
At the same time, Helbe the elven thief moves, and before the Vexilian mage in exile knows what's happened, there's a body lying on the ground at the mouth of the lane they're just passing.
"You didn't have to fucking kill him" dryly says the undead warlord to the elven master assassin, as the spike puncher goes back into the hidden contraption in the right sleeve of the elven masterthief. "Force of habit" says Helbe the elven thief with a shrug of his shoulders.
The deathlord of Farque grunts, then quickly says to the others who have stopped "Tam, Beldane lead the rest of the others southwards" followed by "We'll catch up".
Both the young field commander, and the fighting cleric nod, and continue on their way, with the rest of the group following after. While the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque picks up the dead body and steps further into the lane, and the shade there that the buildings on either side provide.The mage Reinholt and the elven magic user join the large, heavily armoured deathlord.
The undead warlord stops and looks back to the street, and says something in orkish. Obviously a command, as Dorc da Orc has stopped to look at what's going on.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts and continues after the rest of the group.
"Thanks" says Mira Reinholt to the large heavily armoured deathlord who saved his life, once again.
The lord of the death realm ignores that, and instead says "Wonder why he wanted to kill you mage".
Helbe the elven thief who has just thrown away the rather pathetic looking dagger the assailant was going to use on his fellow spellcaster, says "I can think of a thousand reasons why".
The grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel slyly grins at the sour expression directed at him by the once powerful mage, then nods his hooded head at the dead body lord Farque is carrying tucked under his right arm, and says "Probably wanted to kill him, because Mira was an asshole to him in the past".
"Do you mind?" acidly says the Vexilian mage in exile with a withering look directed at his fellow practitioner of magic.
"Well time to find out" says the death lord of Farque who waits a moment as a couple walk by the mouth of the lane, then he leaps up to the roof of the two storey building they're standing behind.
The two spellcasters have their own ways to the rooftop, and soon join the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque.
"Yeah" says the undead warlord a short while later on the roof of the tallest building in this part of the city of Vexil.
"Helbe was right" adds Draugodrottin, which is another name Lord Farque is known by to the people of his homeland.
"It's because you're an asshole Mira" adds the large, heavily armoured deathlord as the three of them look at the figure standing before them.
"The fuck?" mutters the mage Reinholt who looks at the recently risen dead man, then at the undead warlord.
"You remember a Marn Webb?" asks Lord Farque with a glance at the once powerful mage, who slightly frowns.
"Younger brother of one Mance Webb" dryly says the lord of the death realm who easily has control of the undead man he has just risen from death.
Mira Reinholt briefly thinks about it for a moment, then he says "Oh" and grimaces at the memory that name brings.
"Exactly" dryly says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who has the elven name of Des'tier which means The Destroyer.
"Oh what's this?" asks Helbe the elven thief as he looks at the recently risen dead man, who he killed with a spike punch to the neck.
"Nothing really" says Lord Farque, who continues on from that with "Just something from Mira's misspent childhood".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril arches an eyebrow as he looks at his fellow council member, he doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to. As pretty much most of the group, especially those who have been around for years. Knows that the mage Reinholt was a serial killer in his childhood.
"Get rid of the body" says Draugodrottin who is just about to release his hold on Marn Webb and send him back to the death realm, when he suddenly finds something.
"Hang on, what's this?" mutters the undead warlord, who with a flash of bright blue light from his eyes, commands the undead body of Marn Webb "Speak".
"Ckingcuntmira" garbles the undead figure of Marn Webb, which causes the once powerful mage to sourly smile, the elven masterthief to grin, and the deathlord of Farque to roll his eyes, before commanding "Forget that".
The undead warlord in the heavy dark blue, almost black plate armour follows that with "About where you worked until recently".
Des'tier then mutters in the elven language to the two spellcasters "The fucking idiot was so drunk so often, that even in death it's hard to decipher his thoughts".
The dead body of Marn Webb as he stands there, looking confused, after all he has no idea he's dead, slightly shakes when Draugodrottin commands him once again "Speak".
"Work?" says the undead Marn Webb, and after a nod of Lord Farque's full helmed head, the recently risen from the dead man continues with "At the warehouse" then after a few moments pause, he adds "For the Geist Trading Company".
The spellcasters Mira Reinholt and prince Helbenthril Raendril glance at one another at hearing that.
"Your job there" commands the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque as he looks directly into the eyes of the local man he's risen from the dead.
"Stacking boxes in wagons" is the reply of the undead Marn Webb, who after a slight pause adds "Wooden boxes of weapons and armour".
With a brief flash of bright blue light from the eye slot in the full helm of Lord Farque, and small gesture from Draugodrottin. Marn Webb's body drops to the roof, as once again he's dead.
"Get rid of the body" says the large heavily armoured deathlord, there's a bright white that momentarily encapsulates the body of Marn Webb. Then the body is gone, with just a sprinkling of fine white ashes remaining after the spell cast by the mage Reinholt.
The ashes are quickly blown away by the wind, and Lord Farque says to the practitioners of magic who are members of his personal council "That's all he knew" followed by "Not their destination or anything else".
"That's a start" says Mira Reinholt the mage, who continues on from that with "At least we know for certain now".
Both Draugodrottin and prince Helbenthril Raendril nod in agreement with the once powerful mage, then the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque says "Let's go and catch up to the others" followed by "We've got work to do" . . . . . .
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