Mercenary Tales 35.

The City Of Vexil. 

"What the fuck we doin'?" asks Dorc da Orc who sighs when no one answers him immediately. The large ork is about to repeat himself, when Lord Farque replies with "Waiting". 

And before the ork warleader can ask, waiting for what? The undead warlord tells him in the ork language "A mage cunt". 

The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts, then he sits down on the rubble of a partially broken wall that runs along one side of the alleyway they're in this cold winter's morning. 

While the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, along with Beldane the cleric continue to look out of end of the alleyway they're located in. 

The large heavily armoured deathlord of Farque quietly says "Bit of movement going on in there". 

Next to the undead being, the fighting cleric in the church of Glaine nods his head when lord Farque quietly tells him "Think he's just realized some of his hired help isn't returning". 

Then the lord of the death realm turns his head, and looks to the other end of the alleyway. Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, looks that way too. 

And a few moments later a pair of men, carrying wooden crates, labourers by the looks of it. Walk into the alleyway. 

They immediately stop when they catch sight of the trio at the other end of the alleyway. They quickly back away, then turn and hurry away. When the large ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque, starts growling at them. 

The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts in satisfaction, while the undead warlord looks back out the alleyway once again. 

Down the street to their right, and across it. Stands one of nicer residences in this area of one of the more exclusive neighbourhoods in the north of the city of Vexil. 

And though the street is quiet, they soon hear yelling coming from the nice home they've been observing for the last little while. 

"I want them found!" shouts someone angrily from across the street, followed by "I don't care how you do it, just find the lazy so and so's". 

There's a brief pause, followed by a shout of "Is that understood!". And though Beldane can't hear the reply, both Lord Farque and Dorc da Orc hear the anxious reply of "Yes mage Fendal" from someone. 

"He's coming out" quietly says the lord and ruler of the Lands Farque, who also has the name of Draugodrottin that his people know him by. 

Across the street, the sound of the front door can be heard opening. They can't see it, because there's a ten foot tall brick wall that surrounds the entire residence. 

But they soon see a figure in a black cloak walk to the open gates in the wall, where a pair of private guards stand at attention. 

Both the deathlord of Farque and the fighting cleric, who is holding his power within himself, step further back into the alleyway. 

As they hear across the street "If those damn goblins finally return from the morning markets, send word to me" followed by "I'll be attending council throughout the morning and into the afternoon". 

"Yes mage Fendal" replies one of the two guards at the gates of the rather luxurious residence across the street, and to the right. 

Beldane the cleric shares a look when Lord Farque, who slightly nods his head to across the street. 

Then a few moments later the man in the black cloak walks by on the other side of the street. He doesn't even glance towards the alleyway on this side of the street. 

As he's too busy muttering away to himself about how difficult it is to get decent hired help nowadays. 

"Dorc let's go" quietly says the undead warlord who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer. 

After looking away to the right, and seeing that the pair of private guards at the open gates of the residence they've been observing aren't looking this way, as they're busy chatting away to each other, about the gossip they've heard in the opulent house they work in. 

The trio of Lord Farque, Beldane the cleric and Dorc da Orc, exit the alleyway, and turn left. And head in the same direction that the mage Fendal is going, on this cold winter's morning, here in the capital of the city-state of Vexil. 

As they walk through the residential streets in this part of the city, the powerful cleric in the church of Glaine shares a look with the large, heavily armoured deathlord of Farque walking beside him. 

"I don't fancy taking on a mage" murmurs Beldane the cleric, who continues with "Even a distracted one, like he is at the moment". 

As up ahead, the mage Fendal, who is still disgruntled that some of his goblin servants haven't returned from the early morning markets. 

Turns into another street, as he heads south towards the city center, where both the ruling council building, but more importantly, the Mage Tower, where the mage council meets, is located. 

"Don't worry about it" quietly says Draugodrottin, who quietly follows that with "I'll deal with him". The undead warlord glances back, and in orkish says "Keep up cunt" he adds in the same language "We're going to get a cunt". 

Dorc da Orc grunts as he follows behind the two humans who are walking in front of him, as they cross the street, then turn the corner to the right. 

One moment the mage Fendal, a member of the mage council of Vexil, is taking his usual walk to the Mage Tower. 

He could easily teleport there from his house, but he prefers to walk in the mornings, even a cold winter's morning like it is here today. 

And the next moment as he passes the entrance to a quiet lane, that leads to the busier part of the area of the city he's making his way through. 

Everything goes black as he suddenly falls into subconsciousness. It happens so quick that even with his sharp honed magical reflexes, he can't react. 

The mage Fendal groans as he comes awake, the powerful practitioner of magic, who was born and raised here in the city of Vexil. Hears a voice say to him "Don't cast" followed in a dry tone with "And don't fucking do that". 

Fendal opens his eyes, then blinks in surprise as he sees the mageglobe he just created, in the gauntleted hand of the rather large, not to mention heavily armoured figure standing in front of him. 

"Fuck" mutters Fendal the mage, who blinks a few times in disbelief as the large, heavily armoured individual just closes his gauntleted hand, and around the mageglobe. 

Which should of already exploded outwards from Fendal, destroying everything in the immediate vicinity, and leaving him unharmed. Just disappears, as though it never existed. 

The member of Vexil's mage council, who is sitting on a chair in a room, with his wrists bound behind his back. 

Is gob smacked at what he's just seen. As he knows of no one, or thing, who can just make a mageglobe disappear like that. 

Fendal, a man in his early forties, who was once rather lean, but is now slightly overweight. It's why he walks to the Mage Tower in the mornings, and not teleport there. 

Sees movement out of the corner of his eye, which gives him pause, because it's so big. The mage frowns as sees it's a troll. Though a rather demented, and feral looking one at that. As it sits in the corner of the room he's held in. 

Fendal who is also certain there's someone else behind him, as he thinks he can hear somebody behind the chair he's on. 

Looks sharply at the large heavily armoured individual standing a few feet away in front of him, who says "So, taking bribes" followed by "I rather doubt the rest of the mage council will be pleased when they find out about that". 

"How" says the mage Fendal, who falls silent when the large figure in the dark blue, black armour holds up a gauntleted hand, then says to him "Save your excuses for someone else". 

He then adds "And don't do that" and slaps the tied up mage across the face, as he adds "I told you not to cast". 

Fendal, who was just about to cast, grimaces from the slap across the face, and drops the spell he was thinking of casting. 

"Good" says the large heavily armoured figure, who the Vexilian mage thinks is either an avenger or dark knight of some kind. 

"Now I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them truthfully" says the large individual, who follows on from that with "I'll know if you're lying or not". 

The dark knight continues with "If you lie" he gestures at the large green creature sitting in the corner, and adds "My ork friend there will start cutting chunks off you, and eat them in front of your face". 

The mage Fendal flinches at the mention of an ork. As no one in their right mind, would be caught dead hanging around one of those rare, not to mention psychotic creatures. 

The Vexilian spellcaster looks at the creature which stands up, and he sees it's definitely not a troll, because it's not as tall as a troll. But it's bulkier than any troll he's ever seen. 

Not to mention it's got a wild demented look upon it's feral looking face, and it's starting to droll as it looks at him with a wild look in it's eyes. 

Fendal gulps and takes his eyes off what he's definitely certain is an ork, and nods his head when the large heavily armoured figure interrogating him says "If you answer truthfully, we'll let you go, and you won't remember any of this at all". 

The member of the mage council of Vexil, nods again when his interrogator says to him "Understood?". 

"Right then" says Lord Farque, who after a slight pause asks the mage they've captured "Who paid you to send some aircorp vessels, and a detachment from the one of the armies north?" followed by "To wipe out any threat that came across the border from Girdane?". 

The mage Fendal licks his lips nervously as he doesn't particularly want to answer that. But one more glance at the drooling ork who is staring at him intently. 

The member of the mage council of Vexil starts answering, truthfully, the questions put to him by his captors . . . . . .