Wonderful 17.

Belinswae. The City Of Falnic...

"Did she say where?" asks Riley Hait the mercenary ranger the next morning as he sits upon the city wall just to one side of the south gate "She did not" replies Shur Kee the monk who sits a bit further along the wall from the ranger Hait.
"She can be" says the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, who pauses for a moment before continuing with "A little short at times" the mercenary ranger dryly murmurs in the elven language "That's a understatement if I've ever heard one" then Riley Hait reverts back to the common language and says to the short statured monk "Shur Kee, i do believe you just made a joke there".
The acolyte in the philosophical order that follows the Jade Warrior Bru Li, a figure not known outside of much of the far eastern coast of the continent, slightly frowns as he tries to figure out what the ranger Hait means. The monk then nods, as he figures out what the elven raised and trained ranger is referring to, Shur Kee grins then chuckles, before saying "So i did" he glances around before quietly saying "She is rather short isn't she friend Zubutai".
"That she is Shur Kee, that she is" says Riley Hait with a slight smile upon his face, the mercenary ranger slightly shakes his head, for in the past year or so since the monk rejoined the group, the two of them have taken up their friendship exactly as it was before the living conduit of the Jade Warrior left the group and settled in the city-state of Brattonbury a number of years ago.
Though now, Shur Kee knows the truth about Zubutai Timaginson, whose soul dwells in the body of Riley Hait, when before he did not, or that the barbarian hordesman's soul dwelled in a number of bodies before that too.
They were the best of friends before Zubutai Timaginson originally died, and they're even better friends now. Especially since Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman has told, with permission of course, who he's met in the afterlife a number of times. The person Shur Kee worships and whose teachings he adheres to, the Jade Warrior himself, Bru Li.
The ranger Hait who hasn't told his best friend any details about those meetings, who is glad that the monk has never pressed him about those meetings, which to be fair to the hordes outrider, he can't really recall in detail. Looks at the road leading to the gate away to their right, a road that branches off in two directions, directly south down the coast, and the other inland, to the southeast.
The mercenary ranger who like all the others in the group here in the city of Falnic, with the exception of their leader, and the one who is closest to the leader, is in Belinswae, and for that matter, north of the equator for the first time.
Frowns as he looks at the road to the southeast, where some travelers are approaching the city on foot. Shur Kee, who has also spotted them, glances over at his friend, and tells him "You need not worry too much" the acolyte in the order of Bru Li continues with "They are definitely half breed".
The human mercenary ranger who was raised and trained by the elven warders in the principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands, nods his head in agreement with the short statured monk's assessment about the approaching travelers on foot.
For a moment there, he thought they could been those who are different. But of course he knows they wouldn't be traveling to Falnic willingly. Nor he suspects are the approaching half breeds, who in all likelihood will be harassed at the city gates. Though that's better than the treatment that those the ranger Hait thought they were for the briefest of moments. Those people would of been killed on sight anywhere near where you can find townsmen living.
"Fucking townsmen" mutters Riley Hait in the elven language, which his friend Shur Kee is unable to understand as the two of them watching those on the southeast road approaching the city, while a couple of riders, mercenaries by the looks of them, exit the gate, and head down the coastal road.
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman looks directly right, out to the blue waters of the Great Western Ocean, he sees a handful of fishing smacks far in the distance, trying to get their catch for the day.
While there's a few tall sailing ships, all single masted vessels, heading down the coast, there's also a twin masted ship which can be seen out in the ocean, approaching Falnic from the southwest.
The ranger Hait glances up as one of the numerous wyverns in the city passes directly overhead, Riley Hait sees that there's a passenger behind the winged creatures rider, as it heads basically southeast over the road that goes off in that direction.
The mercenary ranger who was brought up in the elven principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands yawns, then he looks down and finds that the travelers on the southeast road have reached the city gates.
Both Riley Hait and Shur Kee watch as the justifiers guards on gate duty basically interrogate the half breed travelers, most likely from an inbetween village who have made their way to Falnic to find work in the hot months of summer. For though townsmen despise half breeds, they're more than willing to hire them as cheap labour to be used ruthlessly for a month or two at a time during the summer.
The two who have made their way north of the equator with some of the group they travel with, watch as the guards search the half breeds, going through their possessions, which they then toss aside, scattering them across the road. Which the travelers of half blood origin have to regather before the justifiers guards finally allow them to enter the city of Falnic.
"A hard road one must lead in life" quietly says Shur Kee the monk as he quotes the founder of the philosophical order that he belongs to, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger nods his head in agreement with his friend, as they both turn and look into the city, and spot the new arrivals making their way along the winding streets of Falnic.
After a while the ranger Hait goes back to watching the roads to the south, waiting to see if two of the missing members of the group will return, as the messenger to Shur Kee at dawn said they would.
Who knows what to believe when it comes to her, Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson dryly thinks to himself, as he knows that the messenger who spoke with the short statured monk back at the White Gull inn just after dawn, can be a little flighty at times, especially when he sees her, which isn't all that often during the entire time he's been with the group.
The mercenary ranger looks at the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, who is quietly saying "That one seems to be coming in from the east" Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman looks that way, and sees a rather large wyvern approaching the city from the east, though from the south too.
After a few moments as he figures out what the large winged creature been doing out that way, the mercenary ranger quietly says "Part of a raiding party" the monk from beyond the Southlands, from the kingdom of Wah Lee on the far eastern coast of the continent, nods his head in agreement with his friend who he glances at, before he goes back to watching the large wyvern approaching Falnic.
They see at least five people upon the back of the large winged creature, and as it passes low over the wall further to the left of them, both of them see the dried blood stains upon the claws and belly of the wyvern.
While those upon it's back, justifiers guards out of their regalia, have what appear to be heads tied to their belts, that's what they are more than likely, for the two of them have seen it before.
"Fucken townsmen" mutters Riley Hait in the dialect of Zubutai Timaginson's homeland, the mercenary ranger out of all of those in the group has good reason to hate the townsmen in this part of the region of Belinswae. It's because they're constantly trying to eradicate the inhabitants of the hot plains to the southeast, the nomads. Who the ranger Hait, well to be exact, the hordes outrider Zubutai Timaginson is distantly related to.
The barbarian hordesman had always heard the legends that his people were originally from somewhere else, that they traveled to the massive southern tundra just north of the southern polar region, thousands and thousands of years ago from someplace else, from somewhere faraway to the north.
And when he arrived in Belinswae with the others a couple of weeks ago, and learnt about the nomads out on the hot plains away to the southeast of the city of Falnic. And how they share similar customs to the hordes barbarians, not to mention they look quite the same, being a fairly short statured people.
With them worshipping the same three gods, which the barbarian hordes call the tundra gods, while the nomads here in Belinswae refer to them as the plains gods.
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman found all this out, he knew immediately that the hordes barbarians of the southern tundra, faraway towards the southern end of the Southlands, originally came from the hot plains that the nomads of Belinswae inhabit.
The mercenary ranger raised and trained in the elven principality of Envadarlen, looks away from the large wyvern, those upon its back, and their ugly spoils of their recent raid, and he goes back to watching the southeast road, as does Shur Kee who doesn't say anything about what they've just seen.
Later on in the morning, nearing midday, and as they take shelter in the shade of a large building that's up against the city wall, and which tops the city wall. The ranger Hait is just about to suggest getting something to eat for the midday meal, when the short statured monk a bit further along the wall from him, who has just taken a drink from his water canister, quietly says "Is that a rider out there friend Zubutai?".
The mercenary ranger spots a horse in the distance upon the hard packed dirt road that goes southeast from the city of Falnic, and as he watches the horse in the distance approaching the city for a little while, Riley Hait notices that there's two people upon the horse in the distance.
The two friends watch in silence for quite some time, then the ranger Hait and the acolyte in the order of Bru Li share a look as they recognize who it is upon the horse, it's who they've been waiting for all morning.
"It's definitely them" quietly says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman once he's stepped out of the shade and stands in the hot sunshine and looks to the southeast.
Shur Kee who has done likewise, and is shading his eyes with a hand, nods his head in agreement, then he quietly says "Yes, it is the two of them".
They wait a little while longer, then the ranger Hait says to his friend "Come on, let's go down and see what they have to say for themselves". The two of them head to the nearest set of steps that will take them down off the top of the wall, as out on the road to the southeast, Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera approach the city gates . . . . . .

Wonderful 16.

Belinswae. The City Of Falnic...

He looks out over the port city of Falnic and slightly shakes his head. He doesn't know if he'll ever get used to the summer heat here in Falnic, which is far hotter than the summers he experienced in his homeland of Alínlae in the Southlands.
Though the heat here is preferable to the hot and humid summer days he experienced in the city-state of Brattonbury, one of the first places he ever traveled to when he first left the elven principality of his birth three years ago.
The elven spy Dalinvardél Tanith looks up at the balcony to his right. There a trio of children in the shade of some tall potted plants, are all staring down at him. As seeing someone who isn't a human being here in the city of Falnic is a bit of an oddity. Though elves, behind goblins, are the most likely of the non humans you'll see here in the main city in the central area of the region of Belinswae.
Dalinvardél or Dalin as most of the others call him, thinks that Falnic, though relatively small in comparison to coastal cities in the Southlands, is essentially part of a city-state. The city basically rules everything for a hundred or so miles south along the coastline, and a similar distance to the north. As well as ruling inland along the southeast road to the edge of the nomads plains, which is nearly eighty miles from the walls of Falnic.
Thinking of nomads brings to mind why he's come to this hillside square late in the afternoon. He had heard one took place a little earlier, and he looks across the square to the public gibbet, where hangs half a dozen dead nomads, two of whom are children.
There's a squad of justifier guards at the gibbet, two of whom are laughing and joking around, as they stab the corpse of a boy with a spear.
"Fucking townsmen" mutters Dalinvardél Tanith in the language of his birth as he watches what's going on, the dead nomads are most likely victims of a raid into the plains. Or they were caught off the plain, near the southeast road. The elven spy suspects it was the former and not the later.
Dalin who knows that one of the others will be extremely angry with what's happened here in this square this afternoon, turns away and heads around the corner of the building to his right, he pauses and looks at a set of steps that head up to the roof of the building.
The elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands briefly debates in his mind if he should do what he's just thought of, then muttering "Why the hell not" silently followed by, because you might get caught, that's why the hell not. He makes up his mind, and hurries up the steps to the roof of the building.
The building like most here in the city of Falnic is white, or to be precise, a white sand colour, which contrasts with the blue of the ocean that the city looks out over. The roof of this particular building is flat, and doesn't have the orange, earth coloured tiles you find on top of a lot of the buildings. The elven spy is glad it's flat with what he's planning to do.
Dalin who hears that no one is on the roof in the late afternoon sunshine, takes out his small hand held crossbow as he hurries up the steps.
Once on the rooftop, he extends back the underside of the crossbow, making the weapon longer. Then he depresses a metal stud next to the lever, and the arms of the bow extend outwards, making the actually bow part of the weapon longer.
From beneath his cloak he takes a longer bolt from his quiver, longer than the normal short range bolts he usually uses. The elven spy from south of the equator, loads the weapons that's already cocked back to fire.
Then in one smooth motion, he drops to a knee, barely takes time to aim, then lifts the firing lever, shooting off the bolt. He's up and moving quickly back to the steps as the quarrel flies through the air to it's target.
"You won't be doing that anymore" Dalinvardél Tanith murmurs to himself as he retracts his crossbow to it's normal size and hides it beneath his cloak as the bolt he shot off, slams into the head of the justifiers guard across the square, sticking a spear into the next child along on the gibbet from the dead boy he and another guard were just stabbing with the spear.
The elven spy hears the yelling and shouting from around in the square when the justifiers guard dies. Dalin is already down and off the steps, and making his way quickly through a shaded alleyway to the right that heads downhill, before the other justifiers guards in the nearby square even move out to find the culprit responsible for the death of one of their own.
The elf from the principality of Alínlae, who was a member of the staff of the noble house of the Ollinsállé family in that particular elven principality. Sourly smiles as he shouldn't of really done that, as he has a specific job to do. And that's to help find a number of people. Not just the original three people they've traveled to the region of Belinswae to find. But also two others in the group, who went missing a few days ago, when they sneaked out of the city to visit some of the nearby towns and villages when they shouldn't of.
"When i find those two youngsters" murmurs Dalin, who then silently adds in a dry tone, if i find them. He plans to give them a strict telling off, as he and another in the group here in Falnic, are the only one's who give the two youngest members of the group any discipline, their nominal leader certainly doesn't. Though to be fair their nominal leader is trying to find the original trio of the group who are missing, as well as keep the rest of them together and alive.
The elven spy continues on his way down the hill, going through shaded alleyways, or down the winding cobblestone streets, as usual the elf from south of the equator as he heads back to the inn they're staying at down in the port, notices all the peculiarities of Falnic compared to cities you would find in the Southlands.
For starters, the most noticeable thing, especially for a heavily human dominated city, is the lack of people. From what they've learned is that there's about twenty five thousand people here in Falnic, a city that could easily accommodate half again as much. And though Dalinvardél Tanith is originally from a sparsely populated elven city of Parlindellè, the capital of Alínlae. Even he finds Falnic odd to be in for a human city.
Then there's the actual Falnic society, as well as the society for this part of the region of Belinswae. Where justifiers rule, justifiers who are part law givers, council members, and nobility all rolled into one. Who also all happen to be spellcasters. In a society where spellcasters are extremely rare, far rarer than you would find in any society in the Southlands. Spellcasters basically rule like gods in this area of Belinswae.
Then there's the split in the society. Where townsmen look down on those who are known as half bloods, or half breeds. You hardly find them here in Falnic, they tend to live in villages at the far end of the southeast road. Faraway from the city, though pockets of them can be found in the city and some of the larger towns.
They're shunned and looked down upon due to the nomad blood in their lineage. The nomads who live out in the hot, baking furnace of the plains that are named after them. The nomads who are the mortal enemies of the town born population, who are collectively known as townsmen.
Dalin glances upwards after he passes under a bridge, and as usual he's surprised by the lack of airships in the skies above Falnic, and in lack, that means none.
For since arriving in the coastal city, they've only seen two airships, and one of those was the one they arrived on. Both airships were from the Southlands, the northern city-state of Renoa to be exact. And both have left Falnic to return to the Southlands and their home port.
A city without an airdock, Dalinvardél Tanith thinks to himself with a shake of his head as he still finds that highly odd, he has learnt that because of the lack of airships, and spellcasters being extremely rare. That weapons like magetubes aren't found here in Belinswae. Infact the elven spy has learnt that such weapons are only ever found throughout the Southlands, and various parts along the far eastern coast of the continent, which is well over ten thousand miles away from where he is at the moment.
Though airships maybe lacking in the skies above Falnic, what isn't lacking is what briefly passes above the elf from the principality of Alínlae, and that's a wyvern.
Dalin never knew there would be a place with so many tame wyverns, they're everywhere across the city. There's far more wyverns here in Falnic than there are griffons in the capital of his homeland. And wyverns being wyverns, they're a hell of a lot more of a nuisance than any griffon would ever be.
The elven spy looks away to his right and sourly smiles as a wyvern, a fairly small one at about fifteen feet in length, squawks at him from on top of a rooftop. Dalin would like nothing more to do, than to put a bolt through it's eye to shut it up, but he refrains from doing so, as the locals are overly demonstrative and protective of the wyverns they use.
Down in the port, Dalinvardél Tanith makes his way to The White Gull inn, it's situated back from the docks, just up from the base of a hill, it's location offers a bit of a view of the harbour for the paying customers taking lodgings in the inn.
The elf from south of the equator approaches the back of The White Gull, and as it nears sundown, the elven spy slips into the inn through a backdoor, he heads upstairs, glancing down at open air inner courtyard. None of the group are in the courtyard at the moment, he didn't think any of them would be. Then once in the upper hallway, he heads to the suite of rooms they're using while here in Falnic.
As he approaches their suite, the elven spy uses the advantage of his naturally enhanced hearing, and he finds that three of the others are in the suite, the nominal leader of the group is not, which isn't surprising as he's the one most likely to find the original trio who are missing.
Dalinvardél briefly knocks on the outer door and enters the suite, and after closing the door, makes his way along the short entrance hall to the central room of the suite, where he's greeted by one of the three who says to him in the common language "Did you have any luck friend Dalin?".
"I'm afraid not Shur Kee" replies the elven spy in the same language to the monk of Bru Li, who nods and sits back down on the seat he stood up from next to the table in one corner of the room.
Dalin then looks to his right, where another in the group sits upon a divan looking out the open balcony doors at the harbour, he looks at the elf from the principality of Alínlae and asks him "Was there?".
"There was" says Dalinvardél Tanith who then quietly adds "Six of them, two of them children" on the divan, Reily Hait the mercenary ranger angrily mutters "Fucking townsmen" with good reason the ranger Hait is angry about the deaths of half a dozen nomads.
Then the elven spy looks at the remaining member of the group who walks in from the balcony, Dalin refrains from sourly smiling as he looks at the newest member of the group, who has been with them for less than a year, who Dalinvardél Tanith can't believe is still alive considering who else is in the group, and what the elf from the principality of Alínlae has learnt about their past.
"Ah thy fine leaf eater has returned" says the newest member of the group who continues with "By chance did you find those two delinquent urchins who have gone missing on us? Or have the young vagabonds still placed themselves out of reach, away from their betters like ourselves, well their betters as is i, and not you three fellows, cause i am superiorly better in every way to you chaps".
"No Percavelle, i didn't find them" says Dalinvardél Tanith with a roll of his eyes "That's not very sporting of the little miscreants wot" mutters sir Percavelle Le Dic . . . . . .

Wonderful 15.

Belinswae. Near The Nomads Plains...

Tamric Drubine stops and looks down at the road, he can definitely see the tracks of horses that have gone off the road recently. The nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin in the Southlands who spoke to a goat herder earlier this morning, who told him about what he's been looking for, heads off the road and makes his way along a dusty trail.
Tam who has ridden the three horses he took from the bandits yesterday, so hard that they've blown out, so that he has had let each one go after riding them. Only has his own horse left, so he's moving at a more steady pace and not riding as fast, as to not ruin another mount.
The adolescent from south of the equator heads up a rise, once he's upon it, he sees out to the east what he's been approaching all morning, the plains of the nomads, which are only about five miles away. Tam looks down the trail, and he spots a village a few miles away, even from here, he can tell that it's an inbetween village, only one of them would be so close to the nomads plains.
The former heir to castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin heads down the trail, making his way towards the village, the nobleborn youngster still not thirteen years old watches the surrounding countryside carefully. Keeping an eye out for bandits, though he knows being this close to the nomads plains, you'll more likely to see nomads than bandits of townsmen origin.
The surrounding countryside is pretty much the same as all of the landscape east and south of the city of Falnic, dry and arid. While here close to the plains of the nomads there's less trees, and those that are on the hills and rises like the one Tam is riding down, are short and windswept looking specimens.
The former heir to the knight of castle Drubine, who was informed last year while in the lands Farque, that his father and those of castle Drubine who were killed when he was younger, had been avenged by those who continued to fight their enemies in the north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
Spots an oasis next to the small village he's riding towards, and as he approaches the village, he sees the person he's been looking for, the nobleborn youngster dismounts and walks the last thirty yards to the oasis surrounded by date palms, the first trees he's seen in a while that aren't short and scrubby.
Tam glances out of the corner of his left eye as he leads his horse, and he sees a handful of the local villagers nearby staring at him. He's used to the stares now, as it's quite a rare sight to see someone here in Belinswae with blond hair and blue eyes like he has.
The former heir to castle Drubine finds Lisell Maera sitting on the ground with her back against a date palm, the long legged teen from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands has her eyes closed, and Tam winces as he sees that her face is puffy and bruised.
Letting go of the reins of his horse, Tamric Drubine quietly says "Lis" she opens her eyes and looks up at him, he faintly smiles then kneels down beside her, he puts a hand on her shoulder, and notices how she slightly flinches, the nobleborn youngster asks her "Are you alright?".
"I will be" replies Lisell Maera, who is then hugged by the son of the former knight of castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin, the orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury hugs him back, shutting her eyes tightly as she does so.
After Tam lets her go, and sits back on his heels, and he looks around, he quietly says in the elven language "Sorry it took so long to find you" Lisell Maera faintly smiles through her cracked lips then she says in the same language "I knew you would eventually" Tamric Drubine nods, then looks back at the village, and asks her as they continue converse in the elven language "Those bandits who took you?". "Dead" replies Lis who points away to their right.
The nobleborn youngster stands up and looks that way out to the nomads plains and far in the distance he spots a donkey drawn cart, the teenager from the coastal city of Brattonbury in the Southlands tells him "The villagers are dumping their bodies out on the plains".
Tam sits back down after nodding, then he asks his traveling companion "I take it you took care of them?" Lisell Maera replies with "I did" followed by "Had to wait for the opportune time to do so" the nobleborn adolescent nods then murmurs "Good".
Lis is glad Tam doesn't ask her any more about the trio of bandits and what they did to her, for she doesn't know if she could lie to him so easily. For though the two of them are friendly, they'll never be the best of friends. But with them living and traveling together for the past four years, they're extremely close and they know each other inside and out.
Lisell Maera looks at him and asks "Run into trouble finding me?" the nobleborn youngster who like her is from south of the equator, shrugs his shoulders and says "A little".
The orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury wryly smiles, as she knows Tam tends not to tell all of what has happened. It comes from him being closest to two members of the group they travel with. Dorc da Orc and Mira Reinholt the mage, both of whom tend not say what has actually happened. Though in the case of the ork warleader, he just straight out lies, or says something so unbelievable that you don't know if he's been telling the truth or not.
Lisell Maera whose body aches, says in a slightly dry tone of voice "How little?" Tamric Drubine shrugs his shoulders and says "A couple of groups of bandits on the road here" he pauses for a moment then adds "I dealt to them".
I bet, Lis dryly thinks to herself as she glances at the sword that hangs from the nobleborn youngsters belt. The teenager from Brattonbury knows that Tamric is an extremely skilled swordsman for someone who is not yet thirteen years old. Coupled with the sword he uses, which is magical, he can easily defeat older more experienced swordmen, multiple opponents too, with ease as well.
"How many?" asks Lisell Maera "A couple on the first day you were taken" replies Tamric Drubine, who isn't about to add anything else, but as Lis just stares at him, he clears his throat, and looks at the pool of water beside them, and he says "And eight of them yesterday" the orphan teenager from Brattonbury slightly winces, and the nobleborn adolescent quickly adds "I let a couple of them go".
The two of them are silent for a few moments, then Tam says "I probably did the local justifier a favour dealing to those bandits" Lisell Maera sourly says "That's if the local justifier isn't in cahoots with the bandits in these parts" the son of the former knight of castle Drubine nods his head agreement, as they've both learnt that corruption is rife here in the region of Belinswae, especially here close to the nomads plains.
After looking out across the oasis to the plains of the nomads, Tamric Drubine says "Sorry i couldn't catch up to you quicker" Lis who knows she has to nip this in the bud quickly, especially if the nobleborn youngster was to find out what actually happened to her, says "That's okay, you found me, that's all that matters" the young woman from south of the equator adds "Thanks Tam" the former heir to castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin nods, then says "Sure, no worries Lis".
The teenager from Brattonbury asks for and gets a healing potion from Tam, as she admits her captors did beat her, and that she hurts like hell. Lisell Maera breathes a sigh of relief after taking the potion, and though she feels the tiredness one associates with taking a healing potion, she feels a whole lot better than what she did previously.
With a helping hand from the nobleborn youngster, Lis stands up. And once again as she recently noticed, she can't believe how tall Tam has got. Lisell Maera who at five foot ten inches tall, is tall for a young woman just fifteen years old. But Tam who is two and half years younger than herself, is only a little bit shorter than her, in no time, probably within the next year, they'll be eye to eye to one another.
They turn, and after Tam regathers the reins of his horse who is cropping the grass on the edge of the oasis, they head to the village, as Lis tells the nobleborn youngster she has a few of the locals to thank before they gather her gear and leave.
Tamric Drubine stands back as Lisell Maera speaks to the villagers, after she does, the nobleborn youngster gets in the saddle of his horse, and the teenager from Brattonbury gets up behind him on the horse, and they ride out of the village.
As they head back to the road that goes north and west to the city of Falnic on the coast, Lisell Maera quietly says in the elven language "You might not of done the local justifier a favour getting rid of the bandits on the road, but you definitely did those villagers and the local herders a favour" she continues with "They've been pestered by the town born bandits for ages, with no one doing anything to help them".
"Townsmen" mutters Tamric Drubine who has definite opinions about the way society is shaped here in the north and central parts of Belinswae, Lisell Maera who shares those opinions, even more so after what's happened to her, nods her head in agreement with what the nobleborn youngster just muttered.
A little while later and they're on the road that heads back to Falnic, they ride not saying much, and by the time it's nearing midday in the heat of a hot day, Tam is thinking of stopping for a meal as the villagers gave Lis some food when they were leaving. When he realises the teenager from Brattonbury might be asleep, as she's leaning against his back, with her arms wrapped around him.
The former heir to the knight of castle Drubine is just about to ask Lis if she's awake, when he feels her slightly shaking, instead Tamric Drubine quietly asks "You alright Lis?" after a moment, Lisell Maera softly coughs, then quietly says "I'm fine Tam".
The nobleborn youngster might not know a lot when it comes to the opposite sex, but he knows an awful lot about the teenager from Brattonbury who he has traveled and lived with for nearly four years. And what he knows is that Lis just lied to him.
For all that, Tamric Drubine knows when to remain silent, as he figures if Lis wants to tell him what's wrong, then she will, if not she won't.
As for Lisell Maera, she's extremely grateful the nobleborn youngster doesn't say anything else and has fallen silent again, as lying to him there was bad enough.
So as she leans against his back, she continues to slightly shake as she continues to silently cry . . . . . .

Wonderful 14.

Belinswae. Near The Nomads Plains...

Lisell Maera wakes, she was punched repeatedly in the face and head until she blacked out. The teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands is dazed, and as she looks around to see where she is, she remembers what's happened.
Her heart sinks, and Lis lets out a soft groan, a whimper really as she recalls what her captors did to her. Even the youngest one Halmnar, who was at first reluctant to do it, raped her when his two companions Farnell and Samnill egged him on to do it.
Tears come to the eyes of Lisell Maera, who can't see her captors at all, but she thinks she hears them outside of the house. Then as she lies there on the dirt floor, Lis realises that she's alive, considering she thought they would of killed her after the three of them had their way with her.
She takes a deep breath, then Lisell Maera murmurs through bloody lips "I've got to move" as she realises that the only reason they've kept her alive, is so that they can continue to rape her at their pleasure, something that no matter what, she knows she can't allow.
The teenage girl who was brought up in some of the poorer areas of the city of Brattonbury sits up with a groan, she hurts all over, especially between her legs, and she does what she's been dreading, she looks down.
Lis lets out a small sound of shock and winces as she looks at the bloody mess between her legs, and she quickly looks away.
Lisell Maera takes a deep breath as she has turned and looked into the shadows on one side of the room, that has light coming in throw a window to her left. And with her cradling her injured left hand that had a dagger go through it, the teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury goes still as she sees what's in the shadows.
Lis sees amongst her captors gear, her own pack as well as her crossbow, the quiver of bolts beside the weapon, she knows Samnill has her sword, and is probably wearing it at the moment as she can't see it.
Lisell Maera looks quickly at the front door of the house that's made out of mud and straw brick, she listens carefully and after a few moments she definitely hears her three captors through the door that's slightly open.
The young woman from south of the equator waits a moment or two, then she moves, heading to the equipment in the shadows to her right, Lis hisses through clenched teeth as she crawls, as each move she makes is agonizing. Agonizing or not, it doesn't stop her from where she wants to go, and what she wants to do.
"Should we keep this one alive?" asks Samnill who is chewing on a mouthful of cut, a leaf from a plant from further south in Belinswae along the coast, a leaf that's both a mild stimulant and an antiseptic.
"She's more trouble than she's worth" adds Samnill who like Farnell and young Halmnar got a few bruising injuries from their captive, not just from when they took her by surprise when they captured her. But also as they traveled with her down the southeast road out Falnic, as well as when they raped her a little while ago.
"Maybe" says Farnell who is the leader of the trio of bandits, who then goes on with "She's a beauty" Samnill interrupts him and dryly says "Not anymore she is" which causes Farnell and Halmnar to chuckle as it's true, as they've beaten their captive black and blue.
"Well she's a beauty once she's cleaned up and healed" says the leader of the trio of bandits, who continues with "Tall too, for one who's only fourteen or fifteen years old" Farnell then adds "With that accent she's obviously from foreign lands".
At first when they took their captive, they thought she was a townsmen like they are, taking one, even from a village, is something that Farnell and Samnill have only ever done twice before. Then they thought she was of mixed blood, but they tend to be shorter than townsmen in general, for nomads on average are shorter people.
It wasn't until she spoke that they realized she was from beyond the region of Belinswae, from where, they don't care, just as long as they get to have their way with her, is all that they care about.
Rubbing his chin where he got a stray elbow from their captive, Farnell as he looks around at the inbetween village, quietly says "Though with the way she kept fighting, she might be more trouble than she's worth, so killing her might be the thing to do".
"I agree" says Samnill with a nod of his head, who then adds "Well whatever you decide, I'm going to have some more fun" he spits out the wad of cut in his mouth, then he asks young Halmnar "Coming Hal".
With the youngster answering in the negative, Samnill shrugs his shoulders, then says "Suit yourself" he heads back to the front door of the house they've been using, he stops when Farnell calls his name, he looks back at the leader of the three of them, who makes a slashing motion across his throat, then quietly says "Get rid of her".
Samnill nods his head, and with a grin upon his face, he continues on his way to the front door of the house made of mud and straw bricks, which he then enters.
"Will we dump her out on the plains of the scum?" quietly asks Halmnar who has heard that Farnell and Samnill usually dump their victims out on the plains of the nomads "Probably best" replies the leader of the trio of bandits, who continues with "It can be a bit of a fraught experience doing so, but the local justifiers even check up on inbetween villages like this one" he then adds "Though the villagers are keeping their distance at the moment, they know what we're doing, and one of them might talk when a justifier shows up" Farnell then says "Best to get rid of the evidence".
They hear a groan from inside the house, and Farnell then young Halmnar chuckle, with Farnell dryly saying "I see somebody's at it already" the leader of the trio of bandits shakes his head, and says "Hell, he's done her twice already, don't know how he can do it again so quickly" Farnell then turns around to look at the house, and sees something he would never thought he would see.
"You okay" says Halmnar, as he's bumped into by Farnell, he turns sideways and sees the leader of the trio of bandits falling to the ground, clutching at his throat with blood spraying through his fingers.
The youngest of the three bandits spins right around and is confronted by a sight that takes him by surprise, it's there captive, standing there with no britches, bloody thighs, bruised and battered with a bloody left hand, however the right hand holding her sword is firm and steady.
"Now wait" says Halmnar who backs up a couple of steps as he holds his hands out in a warding manner, for his troubles he gets a sword thrust to the guts, and he falls to the ground screaming in pain.
Lisell Maera limps forward and kicks the third bandit, the youngest one, in the face, then with the flat of her sword she smacks him in the right boot, breaking his right foot. Then she looks over at the leader of the trio of bandits, who she sees is still alive, she walks back over to him.
Groaning in pain through a bloody mouth of broken teeth, Halmnar as he lies there in excruciating pain with his guts spilling out of him, and with a broken foot, looks to his right, and sees the teenage girl they've raped, standing over Farnell.
He watches as she yanks down the front of Farnell's tights, then grab his cock and balls with her bloody left hand, and with the sword in her right, she cuts off Farnell's manhood.
Young Halmnar groans as she throws Farnell's manhood at the bandit leaders face, then she glances at him, before limping away, back to the small house.
Halmnar closes his eyes and rolls onto his side as he groans in pain, the youngest of the trio of bandits tries to move, and hisses in pain through clenched teeth, and opens his eyes, and finds himself facing the house that they've been using.
Halmnar sees through the wide open front door of the house, Samnill on the dirt floor with a crossbow bolt in the chest, through the right lung by the looks of it, trying to claw himself along the floor as he's on his back.
Then walking through the shaft of light that's coming in through the window of the small house, is their captive, who is now free and armed.
She yanks down Samnill's tights like she did to Farnell, and like she did to Farnell, she cuts off Samnill's manhood too. Though this time she takes Samnill's bloody cock and balls and stuffs into his mouth, before she slams the flat of her blade across his full mouth, smashing his mouth apart, and shoving Samnill's manhood further down his throat.
Then she turns and looks out the open front door of the house, and Halmnar sees her looking at him, after a few moments, she makes her way outside and heads towards him, as she does, Halmnar murmurs through his bloody mouth "Please don't".
Lis looks down at the youngest of the trio of bandits, and thinks to herself, that his briches should fit, afterall all she can't go around without wearing any pants as she is now. Then as she reaches down to yank his britches down, she hears him repeatedly mumbling through his bloody lips "Please don't".
"Too late for that now, you fucking rapist cunt" says Lisell Maera, who then pulls his britches down, and like she did to the other two bandits, she cuts his manhood off, she throws it at his face as he screams through his bloody mouth.
The third rapist dies by the time the orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands takes off his britches she wants and she wonders over to the oasis next to the village, there beneath the date palms, Lis cleans herself up, once she has washed from the pool of water, and put on the britches, she leans back against one of the trees and closes her eyes as tears threaten to fall.
A little while later and Lisell Maera opens her eyes, and sees a couple of the village women in their veiled janis robes coming towards her. One is carrying strips of cloth, and a pottle of salve. While the other has a flat tray, on which is flat bread, dates, goat cheese, and what smells like sweet mint tea in the mug.
Lis looks back into the village, and sees a few of the village men, putting the dead bandits onto a cart drawn by a donkey, she figures they'll dump the bodies out onto the nearby plains of the nomads.
The teenage youngster from south of the equator wonders if they've had townsmen do this often in their village, she figures they probably have, and to their own women too, who being half blood, are only one step above being nomads, who they consider to be scum.
Lisell Maera looks at the two robed women who stop a couple of yards from her, and finding her voice as a single tear slides down the right side of her bruised face, Lis quietly says "Thank you" one of the two village women quietly says in reply "No, thank you" before the two of them approach with their offerings and ask what they can do to help her . . . . . .

Wonderful 13.

Five Weeks Later. On Land...

A fist backhands Lisell Maera across the face and she falls from the horse she's on, she hits the ground beside the road. That's if you can call it a road, as it looks exactly the same as the dry dirt like earth that one can see for miles around.
"Damn you Samnill!" says Halmnar from the back of his horse, Samnill just glares at the teenage girl as she lies on the ground breathing heavily on what's a hot morning, as is every morning here on the edge of the nomads plains during the height of summer.
On the ground, the orphan girl from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands tests her bonds, and finds the ropes that bound her wrists behind her back are still tight.
Lisell Maera grimaces as she was hoping they would've loosened when she was knocked from the back of the horse.
"Pick her up, and put her back on your horse" says Farnell after he rides back from where he's been out front. The leader of the three men looks around then says "Don't want to be caught dwadling in these parts, there's talk of wild wyverns having cross the plains of the feral scum" Farnell continues with "Who knows what those damn beasts might do if they see us".
"Which beasts?" asks Halmnar who at about sixteen years old is the youngest of the trio, he continues with "The wyverns or the scum?" the other two men laugh at his joke, then they get ready to get underway again.
Halmnar hops off his horse, and lifts the bound Lisell Maera up, and slings her over the back of his horse this time, as he thinks it'll be easier to ride, than having her sitting infront of him as she was previously.
Samnill watches on with a smirk upon his face, he didn't take too kindly to her bad mouthing him again, so this time he gave her a backhanded punch instead of the usual slap to face and around the head he administers when she gets a bit too verbal in his opinion, which is quite often.
They start riding, and as they do, Samnill rides close to Halmnar's horse, then he leans over and smacks Lisell Maera across the buttocks, then grabs one of her butt cheeks and gives it a firm squeeze, before riding forward and laughing, while Halmnar chuckles at his friends antics.
As the orphan girl from the city-state of Brattonbury lies there like a sack of grain across the back of the horse, she endures her abuse in silence, knowing that if she is to get out of this situation, she'll have to be clever and use everything she has learnt in her life, especially in the last nearly four years since she left Brattonbury, if she's to get out of this predicament.
Or that someone is able to set her free, the now fifteen year old girl knows that she's desperate if she thinks that'll happen. For the others of the group don't know where she is, and the one person that might do, is far behind her, as they were separated upon the road when Lisell was taken captive by the trio of Samnill, Halmnar and Farnell...

... Tamric Drubine drops down beneath the sword that's swung at his head, then he guts the man swinging the sword. Who falls back landing on his rump, screaming as he grabs at his slashed opened stomach. He gets a kick in the face from the nobleborn youngster from the kingdom of Sarcrin in the Southlands, which shatters his nose and front teeth, and puts him on his back.
Tamric Drubine spins around and looks at the rest of the bandits, well those who are still on their feet and are watching him. They've realised they've made a huge mistake attacking the lone traveler on the road, for out of the eight of them who thought they could've easily taken the youngster, five of them are on the ground, either dead or in the case of the last one who has been gutted and had his face kicked in, is dying.
The former heir to castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin in the Southlands is an absolute terror with the sword, easily able to deal with bandits on the road that heads southeast from the city of Falnic on the coast of the region of Belinswae.
Tamric, or Tam as the rest of the group call him, has been training with the sword since he was a young child. But in the four and half, nearly five years he's been in the company of the others, his skill with the blade has improved dramatically. Especially over the last three years, when he and the others have spent long months in the lands Farque far, faraway to the south, far south of the equator, which he's north of at the moment in the region of Belinswae.
The nobleborn boy who has been trained by numerous sword and blademasters, not just the swordmaster Reinholt who has been his main instructor of the sword since he met the group.
Is fairly certain that either Mira Reinholt or lord Farque himself will bestow the rank of swordmaster upon him in the next year or two, extremely young since he's still short of his thirteenth nameday.
Tam flips his longsword and catches it again in his right hand, and flings the dagger in his left hand he's taken from his belt, which takes one of the remaining bandits low in the groin. That bandit falls to the ground, landing on his side, screaming and shouting in pain as he starts to writhe around.
"Who's next?" asks Tamric Drubine as he looks at the two remaining men who are on their feet, the two bandits back away when the nobleborn youngster starts advancing on them, then they turn and run towards the hills to the side of the road, too scared to even gather their mounts.
Tam who knows he would of been dead if any of them had bows or crossbows, mutters "Fucking townsmen" then he dispatches the two wounded bandits with a sword slash to their throats. Then he pilfers anything of use that he can find on the dead, the only thing of real value he finds is a coin pouch with a dozen gold pieces which will always come in handy.
Tamric Drubine gathers his own mount, and three of the horses belonging to the bandits. He doesn't bother with the dead, he just leaves them where they lie, not caring if they've found. Besides he's pretty sure he's done the local justifier a favour, who in his opinion don't do enough to keep things safe outside of the cities and towns of central and northern Belinswae.
The nobleborn youngster from Sarcrin in the Southlands continues on his way, still heading southeast along the road out of Falnic, still in search of his traveling companion Lisell Maera who was taken captive by another group of bandits in a village they stopped at yesterday morning during their continuing search for those of the group who are missing...

... Lisell Maera wakes the following morning, her muscles are protesting as she stretches from her position across the rump of the horse she's on. She lifts her head, as she listens to her captors, and in the distance she spots a village. The teenage girl slightly winces as she looks further east and gets her first good look at the plains of the nomads, or what's commonly referred to as the nomads plains.
If Lis, as she's often referred to by those in the group she travels with. Thought that the surrounding countryside was pretty barren and arid, looking east at the plains it's even more drier than it is here.
The orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury in the southern hemisphere, hopes her captors aren't planning to take her east into the nomads plains. She thinks not as they're townsmen who despise the nomads, but she wouldn't put it past them if her speculation about their intentions turn out to be true.
As they near the small dusty village, Lisell Maera can easily see that it's inhabitants are neither townsmen or nomads, they're those who are of mixed blood, who townsmen despise, though they do interact with and do business with them. Unlike nomads, who they kill on the spot, and vice versa, for a nomad will kill a townsmen when they see them.
They stop at the edge of the village, a woman in her long traditional veiled janis robe, grabs a child by the hand and hurries away when the horses stop next to an empty house.
A few other inhabitants of what's known as an inbetween village who are out this morning, quickly move away when they catch sight of the three riders and their captive.
Farnell dismounts and nods to Halmnar and Samnill, who also dismount, Samnill mutters "Fuck" and winces as he dismounts, then walks with a slight limp for he was kicked in the knee by Lis last night when they stopped to camp.
Young Halmnar hauls Lisell Maera off the back of his horse, she hits the ground with a thud, she slightly groans around the cloth gag stuffed in her mouth. She isn't going anywhere as her ankles are now bound, as her wrists are. Still, Halmnar puts a boot on her, and stands on her as Samnill and Farnell hitch the three mounts to a post in what can be called a stable, it has three crumbling walls and a smattering of planks for a roof, that offers shade for the horses on what's turning out to be another a hot summer's day here near the nomads plains.
Lis is carried inside the house made of a mix of mud and straw bricks, she's dumped on the dirt floor, and gets a kick in her side when she kicks out with her bound legs, and connects with Halmnar's shins, who stumbles and falls as he swears "She bitch".
A rain of punches fall down upon the orphan teenager, hitting her in the stomach and chest, and sides, she can tell that Samnill is punching her the hardest by far, he's laughing as he hits her.
"Enough" says Farnell as he calls a stop to their abuse for the moment, as Lis lies there dazed after Samnill hits her in the face with one of his punches. The orphan teenager from Brattonbury in the Southlands is breathing heavily as she hears her captors laughing as they tell a joke and they share a flask of grain alcohol, that's popular amongst the poorer sections of townsmen society.
Lis who knows she has to try and get out of this, bides her time and works out what she'll have to do, even though her body is aching, battered and bruised.
"Hold her down, I'm going first" says Farnell who continues with "I'm not going after where you two bastards have been first" which illicits a laugh from both Samnill and Halmnar, though the laugh from Halmnar sounds forced and nervous to Lisell's ears, while Samnill's sounds mocking.
Once the bonds on her wrists, then ankles are cut, and Farnell goes to pull down Lisell's briches, she fights, kicking out at him, and elbowing both Samnill and Halmnar who are kneeling down to either side of her.
"Hold the bitch down!" yells Farnell who is on his rump, nursing an ankle that hurts like hell, Halmnar who toppled over when he was elbowed in the side, kicks out and connects with Lisell's side, which causes her to groan as she goes to kick out again.
Samnill who has also fallen on to his side, goes to grab something from his belt, as he mutters "You bitch" as he tries to grab their captor who is fighting a hell of lot more than any other of those he and Farnell have captured in the past.
Lis kicks the downed Farnell again, this time in the left knee, then she screams in pain through the gag stuffed in her mouth, and looks to her left, and finds her upturned hand pinned to the dirt floor of the house by a dagger.
"Bet that hurt didn't it bitch" says Samnill, who then punches Lis in the face, right in the mouth and nose that stuns her even more "Hold her" says Samnill to Halmnar, which is reiterated by Farnell who takes his own dagger from his belt.
Not bothering to pull their captives briches down, Farnell just cuts them open as he winces in pain from both a sore knee, and a sore ankle.
"Bitch if you keep putting up a fight, Sam here will keep stabbing you until you pass out" says Farnell, who continues with "And if you die, who cares as you'll still be warm enough to enjoy" which causes Samnill to chuckle in merriment, while Halmnar nervously grins as the two of them hold down their captive.
Not like this! Lisell Maera screams within her own mind, she thinks this repeatedly over and over again. For the orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury in the Southlands, who was repeatedly sexually abused when she was a child, thought she had put things like this well behind in her life.
Not so, as she's raped by her three captors . . . . . .

Wonderful 12.

On Land...

Mira Reinholt the mage wakes to a shake to his shoulder and one of the hired mercenaries saying "Wake up mage". The Vexilian mage in exile opens his eyes and looks around, he finds he's on a bed in a room, most likely in the same town they're were in yesterday when he blacked out.
The once powerful mage sits up, and when the local mercenary pops his head in through the door after briefly going outside, and says "Come on, we haven't got all day" Mira Reinholt the mage says "Alright, I'm up" then he sourly smiles as it comes out as a mumble, and realises that he was given some of the potion as he slept.
It takes a little while, but eventually the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster is ready to travel for the day. Then after a quick breakfast, the prisoner, his two guards and his captor are ready to leave the inn they've spent the night at.
They head down to the river, and as always as he walks, the mage Reinholt stumbles every so often, it's the most annoying side effect of the toxins in his body in his opinion. And it's also why one of the hired mercenaries is always close to him, to help him walk when he needs it.
The attractive elven maid Kaldeàlil Haldéilv has booked passage upon a river craft that's going north up river. They board and are soon heading against the current of the river that empties out in the ocean about a dozen miles away from the town.
The once powerful mage knows that the elven magic user is either from this region of Belinswae, or at least somewhere near it. As he overheard in the dinning room of the inn where they stayed and had breakfast earlier this morning. From some river merchants at a nearby table, that elven traders sometimes travel down here from their homeland to the northeast.
The swordmaster Reinholt tries to recall maps he's seen showing this area north of equator on the continent, and if there's an elven principality near the region of Belinswae.
The Vexilian mage doesn't recall one, then again he doesn't know that much of what's here, just the name of a couple of cities north of the plains of Sarvil, which is the very north of the Southlands along the west coast.
The plains the mage Reinholt has learnt where lord Farque died nearly four and half centuries ago when he defeated the emperor of the Holy Norstran Empire, who had crossed the Great Western Ocean and invaded the Southlands.
Mira Reinholt knows they're well north of those particular cities north of the plains of Sarvil, and from the amount of time they spent at sea and  traveling by other means with Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, he guesses they're well over a thousand miles north of the equator, possibly closer to half that again, as they're no longer in the northern tropics, but in a more arid, though still warm climate.
Wherever they are in Belinswae, it reminds the mage Reinholt of the terrain and climate you find in the city-state of Renoa along the coast in the north of the Southlands. Though as he sits in the bow at the rail, the Vexilian mage in exile looks to the east of the river, and sees that the landscape is much dryer than most places you'll find in Renoa the northern most city-state in the Southlands.
The once powerful mage sits back against a travel chest as he's beneath a shade cloth that's been put up by the crew. The swordmaster Reinholt welcomes the shade, as there's hardly any breeze coming off the water, or from the west where the ocean is. It's quite hot today, afterall it is summer here north of the equator in Belinswae.
Not having access to his magical power isn't new to Mira Reinholt, it's happened to him before. A number of years ago when he left the world of Volunell when he accidentally cast a rift/void instead of a regular rift spell, which he's still yet to learn and cast.
Though the Vexilian mage in exile can't actually recall much of his time off world. He knows it was there, where ever there was at the other end of the rift void, that he lost the vast majority of his powers.
The once powerful mage knows he survived that, so he's not too worried about being under the influence of the toxin laced potion he's been forced to have, a potion that cuts him off from what little magical power that remains at his disposal.
The mage Reinholt knows that he'll eventually get free of his current captivity, either by freeing himself, or someone else freeing him. It's just that he doesn't know how long he will be a captive of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster knows that it could be for quite some time.
The Vexilian mage in exile looks over at the elven magic user, who is also under the cloth that's providing shade here in the bow of the river craft, that's heading upstream under the power of both sail and oar.
Mira Reinholt knows that the attractive elven maid who at the moment is reading from a scroll, is using him as bait to lure someone to her. The swordmaster Reinholt slightly shakes his head as he knows that for all the cunning the attractive elven maid possesses, she's no match for the person she's after, the person who killed her lover Xanderlith Karlavilt, in the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands three years ago.
Mirs Reinholt looks away to the east of the river again, and before long he's dozing in the morning heat beneath the cloth that's providing shade to those in the bow. He's soon fully asleep as the river craft continues northwards through the region of Belinswae.
Around midday the once powerful mage is woken up by one of the hired mercenaries, the cook in the galley of the shallow drafting craft has provided them with lunch. The swordmaster Reinholt has a meal of cured meats with figs and cheese, which he rather enjoys. He also likes the cold mint tea with sugar he's given to drink, there's ice in it courtesy of Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, it quenches his thirst on this warm summer's day.
Not long after having the midday meal, the mage Reinholt starts dozing again, as he sits upon a soft mat on the wooden deck, while he leans back against the travel chest behind him, he's soon asleep once more.
The exiled Vexilian mage is woken by shouting, he yawns and looks around, then he gets up and moves forward, stumbling just the once, as he gets out from beneath the cloth that's been strung up over most of the fore deck, and he stands in the bow point of the river craft.
"What is it?" asks Mira Reinholt the mage, who to his relief finds that he's not mumbling, and his voice comes out normally, though softly and a little gruff.
"There" says one of the hired mercenaries, who along with the other mercenary, as well as Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, and a couple of the crew, are here in the bow end of the river boat. The swordmaster Reinholt who is glad that a couple of meals and a bit of time have lessened the side effects of the potion that he's under the influence of, looks away into the sky to the east to where the mercenary who spoke to him, is pointing.
With a slight frown upon his face, Mira Reinholt says "Wyverns?" the hired mercenary beside him nods yes, then the once powerful mage murmurs "That's quite a few of them" the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster looks at the elven magic user, who as the only non human onboard, has the best eyesight by far, and he asks her "How many of them up there?".
With a sideways glance at her prisoner the mage Reinholt, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv answers his question with "Nine of them" the attractive elven maid nods her head and says "They are" in response to him asking her "Wild one's?".
The elven magic user who knows the region of Belinswae and the surrounding regions quite well, says "You can get them in even larger flights, up to thirty of them" she continues with "Though you don't usually see them this far west" Kaldeàlil Haldéilv then adds "They've come across the nomads plains to get here".
Mira Reinholt notices something at the mention of the nomads plains, the two crew members here in the bow with them, frown, in a disapproving way, at the mention of that. While the two guards have no reaction to it what so ever.
The once powerful mage wonders if it has something to do with the hired mercenaries being from the coast in the southern part of Belinswae, while he's learnt that the crew, as well as the river craft itself are from a city further north along the coast.
"We're not in any danger are we?" asks the swordmaster Reinholt, who as the more he speaks, he speaks in a normal manner, not so softly as he tends to do as he regains his voice after a certain period of time since he's last had the potion.
"They won't attack" says the attractive elven maid, who then adds "Larger groups might attack people, but smaller flights like this one will usually avoid people" Kaldeàlil Haldéilv pauses for a moment, then she says "Though i wouldn't be surprised if the younger and inexperienced one's mock dive attack us".
Which turns out to be correct a little later, as the river turns slightly eastwards and a pair of the smaller wyverns come and inspect the river craft making it's way northwards. The two fifteen foot long beasts dive down towards the boat a couple of times, pulling up just forty feet above it each time before circling away. They only head off when a larger specimen of the winged creatures approaches from the east and squawks at them loudly in reproach.
Mira Reinholt watches the winged creatures flying away to the east and north as they search for something to hunt. The once powerful mage can't help but wonder if there's those of the group he's a part of, out there somewhere in the world, searching for him, like the wild wyverns are searching for their prey, he hopes they are . . . . . .

Wonderful 11.

Two Weeks Ago. The Great Western Ocean...

The deacon Polisa puts his right hand on the hilt of the large sword sticking up out of the floodboards of the damaged cabin. Mira Reinholt the mage watches as first nothing happens as the member of the church of Galavin tries to pull lord Farque's sword free. Then the once powerful mage as he sits upon the bunk sees the exact moment when something does happen.
Deacon Polisa opens his mouth in surprise and he goes to scream in pain as a look of horror crosses his face. He does scream but it's a silent scream as nothing comes out as all of a sudden he starts to change colour.
The churchman changes hue, turning pale, which quickly turns to shades of blue, progressively turning lighter blue until he's finally a white blue colour.
Cracks suddenly appear where his skin shows, he tries to move, but he's unable to let go of the hilt of the sword he's holding, then he goes completely still as he's frozen solid.
From where he sits on the bunk, the mage Reinholt can feel the cold in the close confines of the cabin in the tropical night emanating from the deacon Polisa.
There's ice like tendrils of steam coming from the frozen figure of the churchman, who then all of sudden shatters into untold many tiny pieces and scatters across the floor of the cabin.
Better you than me, Mira Reinholt the mage thinks to himself as he looks at the remains of the dead traveling deacon, the exiled Vexilian mage then lies on his side on the bunk, glances at lord Farque's sword, then promptly falls to sleep.
The mage Reinholt wakes early in the morning to find one of the crew in the cabin looking at the small ice like pieces on the floodboards, wondering what they are. The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster watches as the crewman shrugs, then makes his way to the wood boards that are stacked in one corner of the damaged cabin.
The sailor stops next to the large  sword sticking up out of the floodboards, he glances at the open door, then at the Vexilian mage in exile on the bunk, who just lies there watching him, then the crewman takes a hold of the sword's hilt to pull it out of the floor.
The mage Reinholt watches as the sailor dies in the same manner as the deacon Polisa did during the night, the once powerful mage as he lies there just shakes his head as the sailor shatters apart into many pieces and scatters across the floor.
The exiled Vexilian mage watches two more of the crew die in the same way. First the assistant to the ships carpenter, who comes in and sees all the ice like pieces on the floor, and after wondering what they are for a little while, he goes off in search of a broom.
He returns a short time later, and after sweeping multitude of the tiny ice like pieces to one side of the cabin, he too goes to pull the large sword up out of the floodboards, and ends up dead just like those who he just swept to one side of the cabin.
Mira Reinholt is sitting up on the bunk when the next crew member is killed by lord Farque's sword. The once powerful mage who is waiting for his breakfast, as he's usually feed about now. Hears a pair of sailors out in the corridor, they enter the cabin, one is the ships carpenter, and the other is a member of the crew carrying a trencher with the mage Reinholt's breakfast on it.
And as that sailor walks over to the bunk where the once powerful mage sits, stopping at the large sword that's sticking up out of the floodboards, and the ships carpenter mentions the tiny ice like pieces scattered across the floor, the crew member with Mira's breakfast grabs the hilt of lord Farque's sword.
As the ships carpenter runs from the cabin screaming and shouting about what he's just seen, the Vexilian swordmaster sourly smiles as he looks at his breakfast that's spilled across the floor. Having something to eat is about the only thing that helps deal with the toxins in his body from the potion that he's been forced to drink. That and time are the only things that gives him any relief from it.
Of course his meals are strictly controlled, and he's forced to have more of the potion after a certain about of time, usually every two and half to three days.
This is what the once powerful mage is thinking about when a number of others make their way into the damaged cabin that is effectively his cell due to the effects of the potion he's been forced to have.
"So what exactly happened?" asks Kaldeàlil Haldéilv the elven magic user to the frightened ships carpenter, who won't even enter the cabin, and is standing out in the corridor looking in.
The attractive elven maid and the abbott Halarn share a look as the scared crewman tells them what he saw happened. The captain already worried when he heard the ships carpenter screaming and shouting, had one of his officers do a count of the cutter's crew and passengers. He's informed by the officer assigned to this task, that one of the bowmen and the deacon Polisa are both missing.
The two spellcasters look at the tiny ice like pieces on the cabin floor, and after the head of the church of Galavin winces, and Kaldeàlil Haldéilv orders everyone apart from her fellow spellcaster, the captain and the prisoner out. She and the abbott in the church of Galavin look at the mage Reinholt who is their prisoner.
"The carpenter told the truth" says Kaldeàlil Haldéilv as she looks at the Vexilian mage in exile, she gestures at the large sword sticking up out of the floodboards and asks the swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands "Is that magical?" as both she and the head of the church of Galavin can't detect anything magical about the weapon.
"No" replies Mira Reinholt the mage, who is a little annoyed he's able to speak clearly, the once powerful mage who doesn't bother to lie as he figures the elven magic user is casting a spell to determine if he's lying or not, continues with "It isn't magical" which is indeed true, though he must admit to himself that the large sword is highly unique to say the least.
"He's telling the truth" quietly says Kaldeàlil Haldéilv to the most powerful spellcaster in the church of Galavin, who nods his head in agreement as he too was casting a spell to see if the prisoner was lying or not.
"Care to explain that mage" says abbott Halarn who nods at the large sword, then at the tiny ice like pieces scattered across the floor of the cabin as he looks at the mage Reinholt.
"What's to explain?" says the Vexilian mage in exile who continues with "You know exactly the same as me if you were to touch it" the once powerful mage is telling the truth, though he won't elaborate and will only answer questions directly as he sees fit.
The swordmaster Reinholt watches the two spellcasters who share a look, and he figures they're talking to one another via mindspeech. While the captain of the twin masted sailing ship from the port of Renoa stands to one side, feeling a little left out, though glad to be as he isn't too keen to get caught up in the affairs of the practitioners of magic.
The attractive elven maid slightly nods her head at a suggestion from abbott Halarn as they speak by way of a mindspeech spell, then Kaldeàlil Haldéilv looks at the prisoner and tells him "Pull the sword out of the floor".
"Fuck off" says Mira Reinholt who winces as he said the first that came to his mind, which he didn't want to do "What?" says the elven magic user who grins then adds "Feeling a little scared of something mage?" then she casts a spell upon the prisoner.
The mage Reinholt grimaces as he finds himself standing up from the bunk he's sitting on, and he takes a step forward, all out of his control.
Please sword, the once powerful mage thinks to himself as he walks under the power of the spell cast by Kaldeàlil Haldéilv towards the large sword sticking up out of the floorboards of the cabin.
The Vexilian mage in exile silently repeats that over and over as he approaches the large weapon. Please sword. It becomes a silent litany, as he hopes that lord Farque's sword is listening, but having no idea if it is or not.
The once powerful mage sourly smiles as he just walked for the first time without stumbling since becoming a prisoner. Then he grimaces as he stops infront of the large sword, which even though some of it is down through the floorboards, is as tall as he is, and he's basically six feet tall.
Mira Reinholt watches as his right arm lifts up as the elven magic user controls his movements, the exiled Vexilian mage is breathing in short, shallow breaths as he panics but is unable to do anything about it. Then he closes his eyes and silently repeats, please sword, as his hand reaches out to take a hold of the hilt of the large sword.
"Fuck" mutters the mage Reinholt as he feels his hand wrap around the hilt of the weapon, then the swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil opens his eyes a few moments later as he finds, much to his surprise, that  he's still alive.
Thank you sword, Mira Reinholt thinks to himself as he breathes deeply in relief, then he looks at Kaldeàlil Haldéilv, who tells him "Pull it out then" the once powerful mage grabs the hilt with his other hand and tries to pull the large weapon out of the floorboards.
It won't move, and after sometime, the swordmaster Reinholt says "It's bloody heavy, if you want to move it do it yourself" in reply to the elven magic user saying to him "Don't mess about mage" as he struggles to even budge the large sword.
The attractive elven maid gestures to the bunk, and the mage Reinholt heads back to it after he's unable to move lord Farque's sword at all. Once he sits down he finds that he is back in control of his body. Though a moment later he finds he's no longer in control of his own mind.
Mira Reinholt finds himself shoved to one side of his mind, in a tiny corner as if he's a passenger in his own body, as he starts talking without him having in any say in what's coming out of his mouth.
"If you want to move it so much" says the mage Reinholt who then nods at the head of church of Galavin, and continues with "You do it" the once powerful mage then adds "Since you can protect yourself from arcane weapons which belong to, you know, the walking dead".
The two spellcasters share a look and start conversing with one another by way of a mindspeech spell. While in a tiny corner of his mind, Mira Reinholt wonders what the hell just happened.
The exiled Vexilian mage tries to glance at lord Farque's sword, but he's unable to and it remains in the periphery of his vision as he finds he can only look straight at his two captors.
"I don't know, but it'll have to be pretty powerful whatever it is" says Mira Reinholt in response to a question from the head of the church of Galavin, the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found in the Southlands, then dryly adds "I'm not exactly an expert on spells cast by clerics".
In the corner of his mind that he finds himself in, the swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil is slightly surprised at how he actually sounds. This is first time he's heard himself speak as if he was someone else, and it sounds a little odd to say the least.
The elven magic user and the abbott in the church of Galavin silently confer, for the prisoner is telling the truth, they've also read his mind to be doubly sure, then the most powerful cleric in the church of Galavin nods and quietly says "He's right" followed by "Don't know how long for, but at least i can move it, and get it out of our way".
Abbott Halarn casts his most powerful protection spell, specifically against the arcane items of the undead, he knows it's successful as he wouldn't of been able to cast the spell, as he gets his powers indirectly from the god he worships, Galavin. The head of the church of Galavin moves over to the large sword sticking up out of the floorboards of the cabin floor and though he hesitates for a brief moment, he grabs the hilt of the weapon.
Fucking sucker, Mira Reinholt thinks to himself as he suddenly finds himself in control of his own mind again while he watches the abbott Halarn change colour. The once powerful mage grins as the powerful cleric dies, Kaldeàlil Haldéilv spins around as the head of the church of Galavin shatters into tiny ice like pieces.
The mage Reinholt finds himself slammed backwards into the bulkhead behind him, and he blacks out while still grinning as a furious looking elven magic user glares at him.
Meanwhile, over three hundred and fifty miles away to the west and south. At the bottom of the ocean, thousands of feet deep below the surface, in a trench in the ocean floor. Lord Farque opens his eyes as the white energy bands of holding that are around him disappear . . . . . .