The Lost Ones 63.

Summer. The Town Of Falmare.

In the warm late morning sun. Lisell Maera the messenger jumps up and grabs onto the eaves above her.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury pulls herself up onto the roof of a building, here on the east side of the town of Falmare.
The messenger, or runner as they're sometimes referred to. Gets her breath back before she gets into a crouch.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well, looks around. And wryly smiles when she spots a tabby coloured cat on the next roof over.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands gets up, and runs across the rooftop she's on. Then leaps over the narrow lane below, and lands upon the roof of the building the tabby coloured cat is on.
Lis slightly winces, and carefully listens to make sure no one in the building she's on top of, heard her.
Then the messenger in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque crosses over to where the cat is down on all fours.
Lisell Maera crouches down next to the tabby coloured cat, and slightly nods her head.
As directly beside the building they're on, is the trading shop of Sharnd the merchant. Lis found it earlier when she wandered through the town, following the tabby coloured cat, that is Saanea the witch's familiar.
The familiar gets up, and points it's nose in the direction of the building, across the courtyard behind the merchant's trading shop.
"They're in there are they?" quietly murmurs Lisell Maera the messenger who lies down flat upon her stomach, when she spots a few men wandering around the building in question.
The magical creature beside the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury meows.
Lis nods her head as she watches the men wandering around the building across the courtyard from Sharnd the merchant's shop.
She immediately recognises them as some of the mercenaries who were in the inn earlier in the morning, when she beat up the two mercenaries from the port town of Gilsom, Spranen and Halnard.
Lis glances down and watches a quartet of men make their way out of the lane to the right, and cross the street and head to the building behind the trading shop of Sharnd the merchant.
The tall athletic looking, attractive young woman who is a messenger in the armies of Farque, faintly smiles. As those four, have been trying to find her as they search through the town of Falmare.
Those four are hired mercenaries, two of whom are pirates. They've been on her heels ever since she left the inn, where she beat up the two mercenaries Spranen and Halnard.
Lisell Maera sees them talk with some of the other mercenaries who have been walking around the building on the otherside of the courtyard of Sharnd the merchant's shop.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands, whose mother was a prostitute on the streets of Brattonbury, and whose father, a men she never knew or met, was a sailor.
Sees one of the four mercenaries knock on what seems to be a side door of the building across the back courtyard from Sharnd the merchant's trading shop.
A couple of moments later and the door opens, and Spranen the mercenary sticks his head outside, and has a quiet word with the mercenary who knocked on the door.
I wonder what they're discussing? Lisell Maera thinks to herself, who then silently adds, me no doubt.
Then the messenger, or runner as they're sometimes referred to, looks to her right, and wryly smiles as she finds the tabby coloured cat has disappeared.
Lis then looks away to the left, and out east. Across the last of the buildings here on this side of Falmare, and out of town.
She sees a number of people on the road, which leads all the way to the Maldin Hills. Which though is more than twenty miles away, can easily be seen in the distance on such a clear and sunny, summer's day here in the lowlands that lie between the hill country, and the coast of the Southlands.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury sees people both leaving and approaching the town of Falmare. Some on horseback, and in wagons. And quite a few on foot.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque looks carefully, and she spots a group of people off the road, coming around from the north.
Even from five hundred yards away, Lis recognises the short individual, wearing an odd conical shaped hat out infront with the large fellow, wearing what can only be a full suit of heavy plate armour, which is so shiny it's glistening in the sunshine.
She slightly frowns as behind two other people, at the back of the group. Is a rather portly individual.
Lisell Maera then nods her head in understanding, and she murmurs to herself "Interesting" silently followed by, Dorc looks fucking fat even when he's disguised as a human.
"You sure me a fucken human?" asks Dorc da Orc again as he holds up a hand infront of his face, that looks the normal green it usually is.
"Yes Dorc" says Tamric Drubine the field commander without looking back at the large ork who trails him and Saanea the witch.
"Don't fucken look like it" mutters the ork warleader once again, for though he can smell that there's a spell upon him, to his eyes, it certainly doesn't look like it.
Though for everyone else that looks at him, the illusion spell that's been cast by Saanea the witch. Has the ork weaponsmith looking like a rather fat human, blond, not particularly tall, and in his early twenties.
They cut across the open ground, heading towards the road on the east side of Falmare after making their way around from the northwest of the fairly large town here in this part of the lowlands.
"Will that spell last long?" quietly asks field commander Drubine with a nod of his head back at the rather portly fellow following him and the pretty looking hillwoman.
"It should" quietly replies Saanea the witch, who follows that with "It was either one that lasts a while, or two not as good, on him and sir Percavelle".
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more often than not, called by the others in the group, nods his head.
As he'd rather have Dorc da Orc disguised by a rather good illusion. Than the large ork and the heavily armoured knight disguised by two poor quality illusions, that might not last all that long.
The nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin wants to ask the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills why it's difficult to cast two good illusion spells at once.
But figures, rightly as it turns out. That it's got something to do with the size of the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
And because he knows it's difficult for practitioners of magic to cast multiple spells at once. Especially spells of quality and strength.
Instead, the young field commander in the armies of Farque quietly says "You can drop it if we run into trouble". The pretty looking hillwoman nods her head that she will.
While up ahead, Shur Kee the monk looks back at Tam, and gestures toward the road that goes into the east side of Falmare.
The nobleborn teen, who is the son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, a castle located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin, nods his head yes to the short, statured monk.
The physical adept who is an acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li, along with sir Percavelle Lé Dic who walks beside him, make their way to the dirt packed road, which they quickly reach.
Once they're on the road, and they turn towards Falmare, Shur Kee the monk quietly says to the large, heavily armoured knight walking beside him "Friend Percavelle, a little bit of advice".
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic looks sideways and down at the monk wearing the odd, conical shaped hat.
"Of course, my fine short fellow" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic who more or less disregards much of what most people tells him. But he's always willing to listen to the physical adept.
Who from experience always has something wise to say.
Not to mention, the nobleman from kingdom of Druvic is always a little weary of the holy man from the far east coast of the kingdom.
For over fifteen years ago, when they first crossed paths. Shur Kee, with apparent ease, kicked him off the wall of a village in the Sunreach Mountains, when they were on opposite sides of a war at that time.
It was during the same battle, that the former paladin first ran into his bitter rival, Dorc da Orc.
"I think it best if you did not tear off like you usually do, and fight these mercenaries on your own" states Shur Kee, who happens to be the conduit, or living incarnation of the Jade Warrior, Bru Li.
The former earl of Lé Dic goes to open his mouth to protest, even though that's exactly what he was thinking of doing.
Instead he shuts his mouth, when Shur Kee says to him "Do you not think so?".
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic grunts, then says "Yes, prudence would be advisable".
The member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che then adds "I was just thinking of that myself, wot".
The large, heavily armoured knight, a man in his mid forties now. Who was not thinking of that all, then says "I'd say good chap, it would be best to know what we're actually getting ourselves into, wot".
The former paladin continues with "Maybe that evil witch will spread more light on what we can expect".
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, looks back intending to ask Saanea the witch, what they can expect.
But all he does is laugh when he sees the short, fat, blond haired fellow, walking a bit behind the pretty looking hillwoman and the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin.
The former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in eastern Druvic, snorts in derision at the sight if his bitter enemy Dorc da Orc, who is under the influence of an illusion spell cast by Saanea the witch.
Even Shur Kee the monk when he looks back, can't help but grin when he catches sight again of the large ork, who at the moment looks like a slovenly, overweight blond human from somewhere else in the Southlands.
"By Narille himself, that smelly green demon looks like a disgusting brute even in human form" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who is more commonly called Percy by those who know him well.
"Why am i not surprised, wot" dryly says the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic.
He and the short, statured monk slow down so the others can catch up before they enter the town of Falmare.
As a couple of wagons go by, making their way from the large town.
Tamric Drubine and Saanea the witch, and finally Dorc da Orc catch up to Percy and Shur Kee.
"They're not all that faraway" quietly says field commander Drubine, who looks at the pretty looking hillwoman, who tells the others "Less than a hundred yards away" as she gestures ahead, as they enter the town of Falmare.
Tam who is glad the town isn't walled, and is also glad there's no town guards at the edge of the road, watching those coming and going from Falmare.
Quietly asks the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills "Which way?".
"This way" says Saanea the witch, who points the way in which to go.
Popping her head up a bit to get a better view, Lisell Maera the messenger catches a quick glimpse of the others entering the town of Falmare, before they disappear behind some buildings and homes on this side of town.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, who has taken her crossbow of her back, and has it beside her on the roof.
Looks towards the building that's on the otherside of the courtyard that's behind the trading shop that's owned by Sharnd the merchant.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque is keeping low on the rooftop she's on.
So that those hired mercenaries wandering around the building she's observing, don't notice her. Gets ready for the others to show up.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by the others in the group.
Also keeps an eye out for any of the other hired mercenaries, who have been recruited by those five who have intentions of creating their own nation up in the Maldin Hills.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury glances to the nearby lane when she hears people moving through it.
Lis as she's called by those who know her well, faintly winces as she sees a group of men walk from the lane, and cross the street.
They're all hired mercenaries who work for those who have plans to create a nation of their own up in the Maldin Hills.
They make their way behind the shop of Sharnd the merchant, and join those who are already at the building across the back courtyard of the merchant's shop.
"Hell, this is going to be interesting" the messenger in the armies of Farque murmurs to herself.
Who then looks away to her left, to the east, and catches sight of Tamric Drubine the field commander and the rest of the group making their way along one of the streets on this side of the town of Falmare.
"Definitely interesting" adds Lisell Maera in a murmur as she waits for the others to get here . . . . . .

The Lost Ones 62.

Summer. Southlands. Lowlands. Falmare.

"What exactly did she do?" asks Brossic the flatland mercenary.
After sharing a look with Halnard the mercenary, who is still holding his side where he was kicked.
Spranen the mercenary says in a bit of a sour tone "She beat us up".
"What?" says Brossic who grins as he looks at Grunna the sorcerer, who is also grinning.
"Both of you?" adds Brossic who leads the core group of five who have designs on creating their own nation up in the Maldin Hills.
Spranen just grunts in reply, while next to him, Halnard sourly smiles, then winces as he prods a little too much at where he was kicked in the side.
Brossic goes to say something else, but is interrupted by Grunna the sorcerer who asks the other two "Was she pretty?".
Spranen, Halnard and Brossic all wryly smile as they look at the powerful spellcaster who is from the coast of the Southlands.
Grunna who is married, and has kids of his own. Isn't exactly known for his fidelity. And is often caught with numerous women who aren't his wife.
"Yes" dryly says Spranen, who continues with "She was pretty" followed by "Infact she was very attractive".
"No wonder she beat the two of you up" wryly murmurs the sorcerer Grunna, which earns him a filthy look from both Spranen and Halnard, the two mercenaries out of the core group of five, from the port town of Gilsom.
"Let me see" says the sorcerer, and before Spranen can object, Grunna quickly reads his mind.
"Do you mind?" says Spranen in disgust after his mind is read by the powerful spellcaster who is from further south along the coast.
"Hell, she's a looker for sure" says Grunna in appreciation, who then winces and says "Damn, she did beat the shit out of you two".
"She did?" asks Brossic, who like the sorcerer, thought the two mercenaries from Gilsom were kidding when they said they were beaten up by an attractive looking young woman who they were trying to hire.
"She definitely did" says Grunna in reply to the question from the flatland mercenary who leads them all.
Brossic eyebrows lift up in surprise, then he asks the two from the port town of Gilsom "What did the others do who were with you?".
"They were just as surprised as us" replies Spranen, who continues with "Well most of them were" followed by "The two who thought about doing something, she threatened to kill". Next to Spranen, Halnard nods his head in agreement.
"Here, let me look at that" says Grunna the sorcerer to Halnard.
The powerful spellcaster steps forward, and touches the side of Halnard that he's been prodding at.
The injured mercenary from Gilsom grunts when Grunna tells him "Nothing's broken, they're just bruised".
"Thanks" says Halnard the mercenary when the sorcerer from further down the coast, casts a light healing spell upon him.
"Maybe you should of hired her" says Brossic the mercenary.
"With what she was asking?" says Spranen in an incredulous tone of voice "I wouldn't hire any of us for that price" adds the mercenary from the port town of Gilsom, who continues with "Infact i wouldn't hire anyone for that price".
"How much was she asking for?" asks Brossic, Spranen tells him how much, and the leader of the group of mercenaries who hope to carve out a nation of their own up in the Maldin Hills, winces.
As does Grunna the sorcerer, who dryly murmurs "She thinks highly of herself, doesn't she?".
Spranen just sourly grunts to that, while next to him, Halnard nods his head in agreement.
"What did you do next?" asks the lowlander Brossic.
"Sent some of the men who were with us, to see where she went" is the reply from Spranen, who like Halnard. Still can't believe how easily the attractive young woman they attempted to hire, beat them up.
"Someone that good looking won't be that difficult to find" says Grunna the sorcerer, who continues with "Even in a town as large as this one".
The other three mercenaries all nod in agreement with the spellcaster who is from further down the coast of the Southlands.
The four of them are in the small warehouse across the yard, behind Sharnd the flatland merchant's shop, here in the east of the town of Falmare.
Sharnd, who is on his way. Doesn't like them meeting in his trading shop. Which is his legitimate business. Nor does he like them meeting at his home.
The merchant who is paying for most of their operation to create a nation of their own up in the Maldin Hills.
Likes to keep his legitimate business interests, and his family life separate from his more illegal activities that he and the others partake in.
The small warehouse behind Sharnd's shop, which the merchant also owns. Is the place they usually meet in, and go over their plans while they're here in the large lowland town of Falmare.
"So what are you going to do if you find her?" asks Brossic, who might not be as cautious as Halnard, but is pretty pragmatic all the same.
"Kill her for kicking your ass?" adds the mercenary who like Sharnd the merchant, is from here in the lowlands that lie between the Maldin Hills, and the coast of the Southlands.
"Because if you do, the town guards will be all over you" continues Brossic who then adds "Which means us as well".
"The least we can do is teach her a lesson" says Spranen, next to him, Halnard nods his head in agreement.
"Or you could hire her" interjects Grunna as he sits down upon a bale of cloth "Well, not what she's asking for, but a substantial price all the same" adds the sorcerer from further down the coast of the Southlands, who then says "She's definitely worth it".
As much as Brossic agrees with that idea, even though he actually hasn't seen how good the attractive looking young woman actually is. He can see a few problems with that idea.
The main one of which is that they can't afford to pay one mercenary more than what they're paying the latest ones they've recruited here in Falmare.
"Good idea" says Brossic the flatlander, which lowlanders are sometimes referred to as.
"But unfortunately we can't afford to pay anyone extra" adds the lowland mercenary who is the leader of the five who are attempting to carve out a nation of their own, up in the Maldin Hill country, which is less than twenty five miles away to the east from Falmare.
"And let's face it, we can't have a woman amongst the men, she'd be the only one" continues Brossic.
"Oh, i don't know about that" says the sorcerer Grunna, who then adds "I think it'll be good to have some female company".
"You would" dryly says Brossic, who along with Halnard and Spranen sourly look at the powerful spellcaster from further down the coast of the Southlands.
The sorcerer, who knows how the others feel about how he treats his wife and young children. Is about to say something in reply, when the side door to the small warehouse opens, and Sharnd the merchant walks in.
"What's this i hear from some of the men" says Sharnd the merchant, who has just come from his home, where he's been with his wife and three children most of the time since they arrived in Falmare yesterday.
"You two got attacked by a young woman or something?" says the flatland merchant as he looks at the two mercenaries from the port town of Gilsom, Halnard and Spranen.
"You mean they got the shit kicked out of them by her" says Brossic the lowland mercenary.
Sharnd's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at that, and as he looks at the two from Gilsom, he asks "Was she pretty?".
"Very" is the reply from Brossic who leads the five of them in their attempt to create a nation of their own in the Maldin Hills.
"You were probably distracted by her looks" says Sharnd, who glances at Grunna sitting on a bale of cloth, as he adds "I know you would've been if you were there".
Sourly smiling, the sorcerer loudly mutters "What's with everyone picking on me today?".
Sharnd ignores that, and instead says to Spranen and Halnard "I hope you two aren't planning anything stupid in retaliation?".
"We thought about it" admits Spranen, who wouldn't mind if they found the attractive young woman who beat himself and Halnard up, and killed her.
"But, if we locate her" continues the more talkative of the two mercenaries from the port town of Gilsom "We'd just pay her back in kind" adds Spranen who follows that with "Give her a quick beating like she did to us".
The lowland merchant from here in the town of Falmare nods his head, then says "That and nothing else" Sharnd continues with "The town guard might let a few beatings go here and there, but they definitely won't tolerate a murder".
Both Spranen and Halnard, nod in agreement to that, then Spranen looks at Sharnd, Brossic and Grunna and says "So it's alright to use some of the men to find her, and give her a hiding?".
Sharnd the merchant nods yes, as does Grunna the sorcerer. The others then all look at Brossic the mercenary, and the leader of them, nods his head yes too, then says "It's fine".
The lowlander mercenary continues with "Just don't over do it" followed by "Just teach her a lesson".
"We will" says Spranen the mercenary, who crosses to the side door that Sharnd came in through, opens it and speaks to a couple of the mercenaries who are waiting outside.
After he does, Spranen closes the side door, and walks back to where the others are here in the small warehouse that's behind Sharnd's trading shop.
Where Brossic the mercenary is asking his fellow lowlander Sharnd "So how are the finances?".
While up in the rafters of the small warehouse, there's a mouse perched on a beam, looking down at them, watching and listening to everything they say and do.
"Where?" quietly asks Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"In a small warehouse on the east side of town" is the reply from Saanea the witch as she opens her eyes, then she stands up from the base of the tree she's been sitting against.
"It's right behind the shop of that merchant Sharnd" adds the pretty looking hillwoman who is from the nearby hill country known as the Maldin Hills.
"Inform Lis to where they are" says the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, looks from the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills, to the others standing nearby, and says "Come on, we're going".
"Fucken where?" asks Dorc da Orc who has been bored since they arrived here yesterday, and was getting sick of waiting here in the large copse of trees just to the northwest of the town of Falmare.
"Into town" says the young field commander in the armies of Farque. The ork warleader grunts, then loudly mutters "Bout fucken time".
Then after Saanea the witch gives her familiar some new instructions, they move out, and head through the woods in the direction of the town of Falmare.
As Shur Kee the monk leads the way, Tamric Drubine quietly says to the witch walking beside him "Think you can disguise those two?". As he nods his head at sir Percavelle Lé Dic who is following Shur Kee the monk quite closely. Then nods at Dorc da Orc, who is following behind himself and the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills.
"Maybe" says the pretty looking hillwoman in a rather dubious tone of voice, as she first looks at the heavily armoured knight infront of them, then at the large ork who trails them.
"Do your best" says the son and former heir of a previous knight of castle Drubine, which is located in the forested north of the kingdom of Sarcrin.
"At least try and disguise Dorc if you can" quietly adds the nobleborn teenager who is now a senior officer in the armies of Farque.
The witch from the nearby hill country nods, then she looks back at the following ork warleader, and wonders how best to disguise him.
They move quickly through the copse of trees. Even Dorc da Orc who has perked up at the prospect of action.
And though the large ork who is a general in the armies of Farque can't smell any dwarves in the town of Falmare. He's still excited at the possibility of some violence.
They briefly stop at the edge of the woods, and field commander Drubine quietly tells the others "We'll walk around to the east side of town".
"Not north" mutters Dorc da Orc, which Tam ignores as he says to Shur Kee the monk and sir Percavelle Lé Dic "You two lead the way".
The short, statured monk wearing the odd conical shaped hat nods, and with the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic, leads the way from the large copse they've been in.
The young field commander and the pretty looking hillwoman follow. As they do, Tamric Drubine looks back and sees a rather portly looking man walk from the copse behind them.
"It's the best i could do" quietly explains Saanea the witch as she too looks back at the disguised ork weaponsmith.
"It's good enough" quietly says the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin as they cross a dirt road that leads to the north side of the town of Falmare, which is just a few hundred yards south of them.
As they continue around to the north of the large town, heading around to the east side of the lowland town, Tam quietly asks the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills "Are they still there?".
The young field commander takes the right arm of the pretty looking hillwoman as she closes her eyes while walking. And a few moments later, the witch who is looking through the eyes of her familiar, quietly says "They are".
With her eyes still closed, Saanea is silent for a few more moments, then she adds "Lisell is near where they are too".
As the witch from the Maldin Hills opens her eyes, Tamric Drubine who still has a hold of her right arm, nods his head and quietly says "Good" as the five of them make their way around to the east side of the town of Falmare . . . . . .

The Lost Ones 61.

Summer. The Lowlands. The Southlands.

"You looking for a hire?" asks Spranen the mercenary as he and Halnard look at the attractive young woman sitting at the table by herself.
"You hiring?" asks Lisell Maera the messenger as she looks at the two mercenaries who she knows are originally from the port town of Gilsom.
"We are" replies Spranen who is the older of the two mercenaries from Gilsom.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury nods her head, then asks "What are you offering?".
"Mind if we sit?" asks Spranen pointing at the small round table beneath one of the trees here in the central courtyard of the inn, that Lisell Maera is sitting at.
"Go ahead" says the messenger in the armies of Farque.
Spranen sits down on the chair opposite the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands.
While Halnard drags over a chair from the next table that's empty, and sits down next to his fellow mercenary from the port town of Gilsom.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well.
Glances at the others here in the courtyard in the middle of the inn. All of them mercenaries, hired previously by Spranen and Halnard. Who do most of the hiring for the core group of five who have plans to set up their own nation in the Maldin Hills.
"This lot with you?" asks Lis nodding at some of the others who are here in the central courtyard of the inn.
"They are" replies Spranen who does most if not all of the talking, whenever he and Halnard hire new mercenaries.
"They can vouch for us" adds Spranen, who continues with "What we pay, and what we get up to".
"I see" says the messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque as she looks at the two men from Gilsom sitting opposite her.
Lis who has noticed Saanea the witch's familiar has flown to the tree branches above the table she's sitting at, asks the two mercenaries "What are you getting up to?" followed by "And what are you paying?".
"What we're doing" says Spranen, who pauses for a moment or two, before he continues with "Is a little of this, and a little of that" followed by "You might see a bit of action, it all rather depends".
You lot have seen a shitload of action recently i guess you weren't expecting, the attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury thinks to herself, who just nods in reply to what the mercenary from Gilsom just said.
"As for pay" says Spranen, who shrugs his shoulders, then says "That all rather depends really". Next to him, Halnard the mercenary nods his head in agreement.
The runner in the armies of Farque, who knows exactly how much Spranen, Halnard and the others are paying the mercenaries they've hired.
And how those they've hired recently, here in the town of Falmare, and before that in Gilsom, with the exception of the two new spellcasters they've recruited recently, are earning significantly less than those they hired originally.
Slowly nods her head, and looks at each of the mercenaries sitting opposite her at the table, then says "Well, i don't think you can afford me".
This earns a few smiles, and quiet chuckles from the other mercenaries in the central courtyard of the inn, who are watching the conversation between Spranen and Halnard, and the tall, athletic, attractive young woman they're looking to hire.
"Oh?" says Spranen, who briefly pauses then adds "Is that so?".
He and Halnard share a look, then he looks at the young woman sitting opposite them, whose colouring and hair colour show that she's from somewhere along the coast of the Southlands, here towards the mid coast, or further north, and asks her "How much do you want?".
Lis who has just eaten another wedge of cheese off her plate, and taken a sip of her wine, replies with a ridiculously amount, that would be too much for even a rogue knight, or powerful spellcaster.
She refrains from smiling at the reaction she gets from the two men sitting opposite her.
Spranen whose eyes bulge in disbelief, while Halnard just stares at her blinking, not actually certain he heard what she said.
Spranen, who after clearing his throat, and sharing a quick look with Halnard, says to the attractive young woman sitting opposite them "Surely you're joking?".
"Not in the least" replies the messenger in the armies of Farque, whose mother was a prostitute on the streets of Brattonbury, and whose father, a man she never knew or met, was a sailor.
"Hell" says Spranen, who then adds "We wouldn't even pay that for a" he pauses for a few moments as he figures out someone who'd you pay a ridiculous amount to hire, then adds "A mage".
"I'm better than a mage" says Lis, who then looks over at the other mercenaries here in the inner courtyard of the inn, and adds "And better than all this lot you've already hired".
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury then looks at the two men on the otherside of the small, round table and says "And definitely better than you two".
Halnard the mercenary, who hasn't spoken yet, snorts in derision, then says "Oh?" followed by "Is that so?".
Lisell Maera nods, then says "I'll prove it" the messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque continues with "Get up" as she stands, then she adds "Come at me".
Spranen and Halnard shoot a glance at one another, then the two of them stand, and go to grab the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands on the otherside of small round table.
Lis who has been taught a fair bit of unarmed combat, specifically by Helbe the elven thief and Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, and more recently by Shur Kee the monk.
Shoves the small round table forward, which slams into the legs of Spranen, who grunts in pain, as he doubles over the small table.
The messenger in the armies of Farque grabs him by the back of his tunic and leather vest, and flings him sideways over the small table, using his momentum to send him into the trunk of the tree.
Lisell Maera spins sideways as she does so. As Halnard, the most cautious of the mercenaries who have plans to create their own nation up in the Maldin Hills.
Goes around the small table that's tipped over, to grab the tall, athletic looking, attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands.
The runner in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque, ducks down as she spins, kicking out her right leg as Halnard goes to grab her.
She sweeps his legs out from him, knocking him down to the ground. Lis gets up from her spinning crouch, and plants a short kick into the side of the mercenary on the ground.
Who groans, as is Spranen, who is spread over the upturned table, after he went shoulder and head first into the tree trunk.
"Now don't do that" says Lisell Maera the messenger who has flung one of her throwing daggers. Which is sticking into a nearby table top, right next to the hand of one of the other mercenaries who is in the act of standing up.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, who has slung her loaded crossbow off her back, and is pointing it at another of the nearby mercenaries who has stood, says to him "Sit back down" followed by "Unless you want a gut shot". The hired mercenary hurriedly sits back down.
Lis looks at the other ten or so mercenaries here in the central courtyard of the inn, pointing her loaded crossbow at each of them, before she slings it back across her back when they all remain seated, carefully watching her.
The messenger in the armies of Farque looks down at Spranen and Halnard, and tells them "I told you i was worth it" followed by "And i told you i was better than you lot".
Lisell Maera then after one last look at the two mercenaries from Gilsom she has just put down, walks away as the serving woman rushes into the central courtyard to see what all the commotion is about.
"Those two will pay for me" says Lis to the serving woman with a nod of her head at Spranen and Halnard who are attempting to get up off the ground.
"And they'll pay for the the damages too" adds the attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury.
Who then makes her way from the inner courtyard form the middle of the inn. While the familiar of Saanea the witch, takes off in it's current form of a sparrow. And heads up and out of the central courtyard.
Outside of the inn here on the north side of Falmare, Lisell Maera crosses the street, and makes her way into a lane, where she finds a tabby coloured cat.
"Well, if that didn't get their attention, then nothing will" quietly says the messenger to the cat, who meows in reply.
The attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands, then quickly adds "See if they follow me".
The familiar that belongs to Saanea the witch meows again. And the runner in the armies of Farque continues down the lane.
A few moments later, and as the cat has changed to a sparrow again, and is on the rooftop of a building on one side of the lane.
A handful of the mercenaries who were in the central courtyard of the inn, hurry out onto the street.
And after one runs down the street, heading to inform some of the others at what's just happened.
Two of the others after talking to a street urchin hanging around out the front of the inn.
They quickly cross the street, and make their way into the lane, heading in the direction that Lisell Maera has gone.
A few moments after that. Both Halnard and Spranen make their way out of the front of the inn, with the rest of the mercenaries who saw what happened in the central courtyard of the inn.
Both of them are little woozy, shaking their heads, trying to clear them. With Halnard wincing too, as he holds his side where he was kicked.
They head in the other direction down the street. After speaking with the same street urchin out the front of the inn. And sending two of the other mercenaries after the pair who are following after the attractive young woman who casually beat up both Halnard and Spranen.
As they do, they're watched by a sparrow, that's actually a familiar which belongs to a spellcaster from the Maldin Hills, Saanea the witch.
"What are they doing now?" asks Tamric Drubine the field commander.
"Some of them are following after Lisell" replies Saanea the witch, who sits there with her eyes closed, as she looks through the eyes of her familiar.
"The two she beat up" adds the pretty looking hillwoman, which causes both field commander Drubine, and Shur Kee the monk to faintly grin.
"Are going another way" continues the witch from the Maldin Hills, who pauses for a few moments, before she nods then says "They're going to tell some of the others what's just happened".
"Let's hope they're the vengeful type" quietly says the nobleborn teenager from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin.
Both the witch, as she sits there, eyes closed with her back against a tree trunk, nods her head in agreement. And the short, statured monk from the far east coast of the continent, nod in agreement with what the young field commander just said.
They're in a fairly large copse of trees just to the northwest of the town of Falmare. Which is a fairly large town for one in the lowlands between the Maldin Hill range and the coast of the Southlands.
As Saanea the witch continues to observe what's happening in the nearby town through her familiar.
Tamric Drubine or Tam as he's more commonly called by the others in the group. Along with Shur Kee the monk look away to their right, where they see sir Percavelle Lé Dic walking in their direction.
"I fear that smelly beast is about to fornicate with a creature of the woods, wot" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic in disgust as he walks up to the others.
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic shakes his head, as he adds "A large shelled creature, methinks a land turtle".
After rolling his eyes, the young field commander in the armies of Farque asks the former paladin "Where Percy?".
"Through the trees back there" replies the former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of the kingdom of Druvic.
"In a clearing, wot" adds the heavily armoured knight who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
After telling Shur Kee to remain with Saanea the witch. Tamric Drubine moves off in the direction sir Percavelle Lé Dic has indicated. The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic follows after him.
And it's not too long before Tam reaches the edge of a clearing within the copse. And he stands there sourly smiling. While the former paladin stops beside him, and says in a tone of disgust "See, i told you so, wot".
The large, heavily armoured knight then mutters "Damn degenerate creature from the deepest of hells".
As across the clearing, they see Dorc da Orc, with his grubby knee length pants down to his ankles. Has climbed up onto the back of one of two massive land tortoises making their way through the copse.
The one the large ork is on, and trying to hump. Must be near fifteen feet in length, and almost that in width. And probably weighs three or four tonnes.
Not that, that is doing anything to put off the ork warleader who is doing his best to fuck it.
The big, burly ork who is oblivious to everything around him. Is having difficulty trying to actually screw the massive creature. Though not from any lack of trying from his part, so to speak.
"Dorc!" calls out Tamric Drubine, who follows that with "Get down off that poor thing!". The giant land tortoise knows that there's something on top of it's shell. It just doesn't know what, or what it's trying to do to it.
The big, burly looking ork from the southern polar region of the world, quickly looks around with a rather guilty looking expression on his wide, green, brutish looking face.
He spots Tam, who has a disapproving look upon his face. While next to the young field commander, the nobleborn knight, sir Percavelle Lé Dic stands there with a look of disgust on his face.
"Fuck me" mutters Dorc da Orc in the ork language "Me can't even get some fucken sexy time to me self" adds the large ork in the incomprehensible language of his race.
The ork warleader slides off the back of the giant land tortoise. Rather inelegantly, as he basically falls off the massive creature, and lands on his ass.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world grunts and gets to his feet, pulling up his grubby knee length pants as he does so.
The ork weaponsmith looks at the giant land tortoise, along with the other one as they continue on their way through the woods.
And he sighs in frustration, as he's seen such creatures before in the past, and never had the opportunity to fuck one. He thought now would be the best time to do so. Even though he had no idea how to actually screw one of them.
Dorkindle grunts when field commander Drubine calls out his name again.
The large ork turns, and walks across the clearing to where the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin, and nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic are standing.
"Why we not going into town and killing them cunts?" asks Dorc da Orc as if he didn't just try to rape a giant land tortoise.
As sir Percavelle Lé Dic looks at his bitter rival the ork warleader in disgust.
The young field commander in the armies of Farque after shaking his head, says to the large ork "Because".
"Because fucken what?" asks the ork who is a general in the armies of Farque.
"We're waiting to get those we're after in one spot, instead of going all over the place through that large town for them" says Tamric Drubine, who briefly pauses as he thinks of what Lisell Maera the messenger has just done in the town of Falmare, before he adds "And we might just of done that" . . . . . .

The Lost Ones 60.

Summer. The Town Of Falmare. The Lowlands. The Southlands.

Lisell Maera the messenger makes her way through the town of Falmare.
She's the only one to enter the large town for the simple reason the others were all seen by those they're pursuing.
Either up in the Maldin Hills when they first attacked them, or later in the port town of Gilsom. When they destroyed the airship of those they're after.
The attractive young woman originally from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury, makes her way to a taverna, where she sits at a table in the shade of a tree out infront of the establishment.
After she orders a wine, the messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque waits.
"I hope to hell it turns up" Lisell Maera the messenger mutters to herself after the serving woman delivers her a goblet of wine.
Saanea the witch told the messenger or runner as they're often referred to, that it will turn up.
The pretty looking hillwoman just didn't tell the tall, lean attractive looking young woman from the coast of the Southlands, when it would turn up, and what it would look like.
Lisell Maera or Lis as she's more commonly called by those who know her well. Looks around and spots a couple of mercenaries making their way down the street.
She wonders if they're part of the group that she and the others have been after.
Or if they've been hired by them, since they arrived here in Falmare yesterday morning.
Either way, the two men, glance in her direction as they walk by. She suspects they're admiring her for the way she looks, than who she might actually be.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, whose mother was a street prostitute, and whose father, who she never knew, was a sailor.
Wryly smiles to herself after taking another sip of wine. As that tends to happen to her a lot. Admiring looks directed at her.
And though admittedly it's sometimes flattering. More often than not, Lis finds it annoying. And at other times outright a hassle. Where she often has to take steps. To curb any unwanted attention directed at her. Steps that often require violence on her part.
The messenger in the armies of Farque after taking another sip of wine, looks up at the tree next to her. And at the other one here infront of the small taverna.
Looking at some of the birds flitting between the branches, she wonders if one of them is it.
When suddenly their comes a quiet meow from down beside her.
Lis looks down and sees a tabby coloured cat. The eyes of which have for more intelligence than any feline ought to have.
The attractive young woman takes another of sip of wine, clears her throat, then murmurs "Lead the way".
She gets up, and watches as the cat wanders a few yards away, then looks back at her.
Lisell Maera nods, and walks towards it. The cat seeing that the messenger in the scouts and rangers division is following behind her. Continues on it's way. Going across the street that runs infront of the taverna. And enters a lane. Lis follows after it.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury wryly smiles as she follows after Saanea's familiar.
A creature that's often flighty or circumspect to say the least.
The familiar tends to keep away from the others in the group, though in cat form it might rub up against one's legs.
The exceptions to this are Shur Kee the monk. As the familiar, no matter what form it's in. Is all over the short, statured monk. Just as much as it engages with Saanea the witch herself. Much to the annoyance of the spellcaster from the Maldin Hills.
Lisell Maera has seen the familiar in the form of a number of animals, cats, small dogs, birds, and even lizards. Riding on the shoulders of the acolyte in the order of Bru Li.
The physical adept who is from the far east coast of the continent. Where his homeland, the kingdom of Wah Lee is located.
Takes it in his stride that the familiar of Saanea the witch is often all over him. And he's not annoyed in the least that it likes being around him.
The other exception is Dorc da Orc. Which the familiar to the witch from the Maldin Hills keeps well away from. And with good reason. As the large ork wants to eat it. The ork warleader has tried to grab it a number of times already. But the clever magical creature is far to quick and smart for the big, burly ork who is from the southern polar region of the world.
The messenger in the armies of Farque follows the familiar through the lanes, streets and side streets of the town of Falmare.
One of the largest towns in the lowlands that lie between the Maldin Hills to the east, and the coast of the Southlands to the west.
The tabby coloured cat occasionally stops somewhere as it leads Lis through town. Usually an inn, or a taverna. And often one of the boarding houses.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury nods her head whenever it does. As the familiar shows her the locations of those they're after, here in the town of Falmare.
The runner in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque, figures the core group of those she and the others are after, must be hiring additional mercenaries who are here in Falmare, or are passing through town.
For what the familiar has shown her, there's a lot more of them now than there were when they fled the port town of Gilsom on a coastal raider a few nights ago.
Lis clears her throat, and the familiar stops, then wanders back to her, as she stops at a street corner.
The messenger kneels down after the tabby coloured cat meows and rubs against her legs.
"Take me to where that merchant Sharnd is" quietly murmurs Lisell Maera.
She and the rest of the group have learnt the names of the core group they're after, from Saanea spying on them with her familiar.
"Or their leader Brossic" quietly adds the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands as she pats the magical creature that's taken the form of a cat.
The familiar tilts its head as it looks up at Lis, then it meows at her after butting her right hand with its nose.
It wanders away, stopping a few yards away. Where it looks back at Lisell Maera to make sure she follows.
Seeing that the messenger is. The tabby coloured cat heads right into a lane. And the messenger in the armies of Farque follows closely behind it.
The familiar leads the lean, tall, athletic looking young woman into what's clearly a residential neighbourhood in the town of Falmare. Stopping near a fairly large fenced off two storey house.
Lis who hears children playing in the yard and gardens behind the two storey house. Slightly nods her head in understanding. As this his the home of Sharnd the merchant who is a resident of Falmare. And the merchant must of gone home to his wife and children.
The attractive young woman from the coastal city-state of Brattonbury looks at the familiar, who is looking back at her.
Lis slightly shakes her head no, then mouths the name Brossic. The tabby coloured cat meows, then starts making its way down the street. Going by the residence of Sharnd the merchant.
The messenger in the armies of Farque follows after the familiar that belongs to Saanea the witch.
And they head to the north side of Falmare, to one of the larger inns on that side of town.
Lis slightly nods her head as she sees a pair of sailors, disreputable looking sailors at that. Who can only be pirates, hired in Gilsom by those they're after.
Make their way out of the inn. A little unsteady as they do so. They're drunk already, as it's not yet midmorning here in the lowlands between the Maldin Hills and the coast of the Southlands.
The two pirates berate a man walking down the street, and try to grab a young woman going about her business this morning.
She hurries away before one of the drunk sailors attempts to grab her again. But falls over laughing, and has to be helped up by his fellow crew member.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque narrows her eyelids as she watches the pair of sailors from Gilsom.
And wonders if they'll come her way as she follows Saanea's familiar down the street.
But they're too drunk to notice her on the side of the street she's on as they stumble into a lane on their left. Presumably to go to one of the nearby boarding houses. As by the looks of the inn, it looks a little expensive for an ordinary mercenary to stay in.
The tabby coloured cat has stopped at the corner of a building, and Lisell Maera stops beside it, and kneels down whispering "Is he in there at the moment?".
The familiar gives what can only be a shrug of its shoulders, then it wanders down the narrow gap between this building and the next.
Lis watches it, until it disappears amongst the shadows between the two buildings.
The next moment, a bird comes flying at the messenger, narrowly missing her.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury spins around. And spots the small bird, a sparrow by the looks of it. Go up and over the roof of the inn across the street.
The inn is like many a building on the coast of the Southlands, or near it. As it has it's courtyard in the center of it.
Lis assumes the sparrow has gone down into the courtyard in the middle of the inn.
She waits out here at the corner of the building. And doesn't have to wait that long. As she spots the sparrow come up over the roof, and across the street towards her.
It passes over her head, and into the narrow gap between the two buildings.
The messenger in the armies of Farque turns. And a few moments later, the tabby coloured cat comes sauntering out of the shadows towards Lisell Maera.
"One meow yes, two for no" murmurs the attractive young woman from the coast of the Southlands as she crouches down and pats the familiar of Saanea the witch, as it rubs against her legs.
"Is he in there at the moment?" adds Lis in a murmur.
After the tabby coloured cat bumps her nose into the right hand of the runner, it quietly meows twice.
"Damn" mutters the messenger in the armies of Farque in elven.
Then reverting back to the common language, she murmurs to the magical creature "Any of the other leaders in there?". The cat meows once in reply to her.
"Good enough" murmurs Lis, who gets up after patting the tabby coloured cat again.
Then she crosses the street to the inn. As the runner does, a sparrow passes just above her, and goes up and over the roof of the inn, disappearing down into the inner courtyard of the establishment.
Lisell Maera enters the inn, and after speaking to the innkeeper, and ordering a goblet of wine, and a small plate of cheese and cold sliced meat. She tells him, she'll take it in the courtyard, which she can see through a hallway that leads to it. That there's a number of tables in it, as there's also trees in it, to help keep it cool on a warm summer's day, like today is.
The messenger in the armies of Farque takes a seat at one of the small round tables.
And though she's seated beneath a tree, and somewhat in the shade. The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury gathers the attention of the others at the tables that are occupied here in the inner courtyard of the inn.
They're obviously all mercenaries. And at one of the tables beneath a tree, that has a rather active sparrow jumping from branch to branch in it.
Lis recognises two of the mercenaries as being those who are leading the group who are trying to establish a nation of their own up in the Maldin Hills.
Spranen and Halnard, two mercenaries from the port town of Gilsom. And from what Saanea the witch has learnt from her observations through her familiar.
They're the two mercenaries out of the core group of five, who do most of the hiring.
I wonder if they'll try and hire me? Lisell Maera thinks to herself, who then says "Thanks" to the serving woman who puts down a small plate of cheese and sliced cold meat on the table, as well as a goblet of wine.
I bet they do, silently adds the runner in the armies of Farque who is slightly surprised to find her goblet of white wine is chilled. Something she appreciates on such a warm day here in the lowlands, or flatlands as they're sometimes referred to.
Lis has made it no secret she's a traveling mercenary. As she has her crossbow slung across her back. And her sword on her left hip. Countered by a brace of throwing daggers on her other hip.
Pretty much all of the mercenaries here in the inner courtyard of the inn, are eyeing her up to some degree or another.
With the mercenaries from the port town of Gilsom, quietly talking to one another, as they occasionally glance her way.
The messenger in the scouts and rangers division of the armies of Farque knows she's getting eyed up because of her looks, just as much or even more than her being a mercenary.
Lisell Maera glances up into the branches above the table that the mercenaries Spranen and Halnard are sitting at.
And she spots Saanea's familiar perched on a branch, bobbing it's head up and down, as it looks down at the two mercenaries from Gilsom at the table below it.
The magical creature then looks directly at Lis, and the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury sees it chirp, as it stabs it's beak down in the direction of the two mercenaries sitting at the table below it.
Well, i guess so then, Lisell Maera thinks to herself as she watches the mercenaries Spranen and Halnard briefly confer about something, then get up from their table, and cross the courtyard to the table Lis is sitting at.
The other mercenaries at the other tables all watch them. As they walk over to where the runner in the armies of Farque stabs a wedge of cheese with her table knife, and eat it. Before she takes a sip of wine as the mercenaries Halnard and Spranen stop right infront of her table.
Let's see what they want then, Lisell Maera the messenger thinks to herself, as she waits for what the two mercenaries from the port town of Gilsom want . . . . . .

The Lost Ones 59.

Summer. The Far East Coast Of The Continent.

Early the next day. And in the small cabin that Mira Reinholt shares with Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy.
The once powerful mage has a smile on his face as he looks down at his sword that lies on his bunk.
The spellcaster who is from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, lifts the unique looking weapon up. And admires it his hand.
The mage who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, looks at the double bladed weapon for a while longer. Then attaches the leather sling to it, and puts it across his back. With one of the blades sticking up over his right shoulder.
The mage Reinholt, who already has his other sword. The longsword, that has a black blade, created by dragon fire. On his belt, at his left hip.
Looks around the small cabin as the early morning sunshine comes in through the porthole.
Then he picks up his pack. That has his remaining possessions. Unfortunately missing most of the spellbooks he had with him when the group came through the rift/void he accidentally cast. As they were taken off him by the Sultan of Dreese.
He stuffs his pack beneath his bunk. Then makes his way out of the small cabin he's sharing with the spy Tanith.
The Vexilian mage in exile who is a member of lord Farque's personal council, heads down the passageway. Until he gets to the first ladder, he makes his way up the steps. And comes up onto the deck of the Quick Gull, in a midships.
He looks around in the early morning light. Then heads forward to the bow. Where he sees Dalinvardél Tanith standing with Tovis the war engineer and Beldane the cleric.
They're looking out over the coast of the continent. As the small, single masted airship that was in the fleet of the Sultan of Dreese, has just reached the coast. And down below is the coastline of the kingdom of Yandiv.
On the aft deck, which is slightly raised in comparison to the rest of the deck.
Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling who is standing with lord Farque near the wheel. Watches the mage Reinholt make his way to the bow, where he joins in the conversation that Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, Tovis the war engineer, and Beldane the cleric are having.
The hobbit, who is a former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese. And who is from the mainland of Dreese.
Glances sideways and up at the large, heavily armoured figure standing next to him. Who towers over everyone else on board the small, single masted vessel.
By the looks of it, the undead warlord is unconcerned about the presence of the mage Reinholt on deck.
The halfling, who in actual fact is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Jarjin Littlefoot.
Figures the lord and ruler of the lands Farque must of spoken to the once powerful mage, about how they all ended up here on the far east coast of the continent.
And that they've put it behind them. As the heavily armoured deathlord made no secret at how annoyed he was that they went through a rift/void that Mira Reinholt accidentally cast back in the Southlands, in the springtime.
As Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman goes back to watching those in the bow.
Lord Farque quietly says to the ship's captain and the helmsman "Three points to port".
"Aye sir" says the captain of the Quick Gull who nods to the helmsman to carry out the order.
After the helmsman turns the wheel, and some of crew tighten the lines on the main sail.
The small airship turns to the south, and starts following the coastline in that direction.
The halfling who is a member of lord Farque's personal council looks away from the others in the bow. And pays attention to the conversation that the undead warlord strikes up with the captain of the Quick Gull, who along with most of his crew, have now left the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese.
"How's things between the Sultanate and the kingdom of Yandiv?" asks the heavily armoured deathlord who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin to the people of his lands.
"They on friendly terms?" adds the undead being, who also happens to be the lord of the death realm. That realm of existence that lies between life and the afterlife. A realm that Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson knows well, as he's been to it numerous times over the last fourteen years or so.
"As well as two neighbouring nations can get along i suppose" says the ship's captain, who is keeping an eye on those of his crew, who are manning the lines of the sails.
"Skirmishes happen along the border all the time" adds the ship's captain, who continues with "Which is often undefined, as there's hardly anyone living in the very south of the kingdom, and in the north of the Sultanate".
The undead warlord nods his full helmed head in understanding. For during their time on the mainland of Dreese. They saw that most of the population lived along the coast in the middle of the nation, and further south. The capital itself, lies in the southern part of the Sultanate.
While up in the very north of Dreese, close to the border with the kingdom of Yandiv. Which is the fifth of the nations known as the five kingdoms. Which start a good three thousand miles further north in the kingdom of Wah Lee. And eventually come down to the kingdom of Yandiv, which straddles the equator.
The population is sparse to say the least. As the first town of significance in northern Dreese, is nearly fifty miles south of the border region with the kingdom of Yandiv.
"We've done patrols in the border region in the past" says the ship's captain, who continues with "And the fishing villages on either side of the border couldn't care less if they were in the Sultanate or the kingdom".
The captain of the Quick Gull after he calls out to slightly slacken one of the main sheets, says to the lord and ruler of the lands Farque "It's even worse the further you go inland" he continues with "That lot, no matter what side of the border they live on, if they have their way, will attack both the Sultanate's soldiers, and the kingdom's troops if they get the chance to do so".
"Just like a lot of the unruled lands back in the Southlands" quietly says Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling in the hobbit language to the heavily armoured deathlord.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque, who has the elven name of Des'tier, which translates to, The Destroyer.
Nods his full helmed head in agreement with what the former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese just said.
"Hopefully we can keep clear of any trouble that's going on along the border" quietly says Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson.
"Us?" snorts lord Farque in the hobbit language "I rather doubt it" dryly adds Draugadrottin, who dryly follows that with "We find fucking trouble when we're not even looking for it".
The halfling from the mainland of Dreese winces. Then he nods his head in agreement with the lord of the death realm.
As the two of them look forward to the bow. Where Mira Reinholt the mage is standing and talking with some of the others in the group from the Southlands.
Further south in the kingdom of Yandiv, just a half a dozen miles or so from the Quick Gull.
Helbe the elven thief who often scouts out infront. Is down on the ground, looking at a village in the southern part of the kingdom, in the border region with the Sultanate of Dreese.
Well what's left of a village. As it has obviously been attacked in the last day or two. With many of the houses and buildings burnt down.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, which lies off the coast of the Southlands, which is all the way on the otherside of the continent.
Has blurred and shielded himself. As he often does when he goes about by himself, out infront of the rest of the group.
The highly talented elven magic user, who is about four or so miles in from the coast.
Stands there and waits. He doesn't have to wait for too longer in the early morning sunshine of the day.
As Narladene the ground pixie soon pops up through the ground just infront of him, and wings her way up to the right shoulder of the young elven noble she's attached to.
"Definitely no one there" quietly says Narladene the ground pixie, who as usual when the two of them are alone, she speaks in the elven language.
"It was hit a day and half, maybe two days ago" adds the naturally magical creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains in the Southlands.
"The survivors fled north" continues the tiny winged creature who has just returned from the village that stands about eighty yards away.
The elven masterthief, who just happens to be a member of the royal family that rules the principality of Laerel. Infact he's the third in line to the throne. Which is a position he hopes to never have. And is unlikely to ever have too.
Nods his hooded head as he looks at the nearby village for a few moments longer.
Then the elven master assassin, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, shifts away, heading south through the border region of the kingdom of Yandiv.
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel comes across a destroyed homestead. As well as a farmhouse as he continues onwards to the border with the Sultanate of Dreese.
The elven spellcaster from the Southlands, through a mix of shifting and teleporting. Heads back towards the coast as he continues southwards.
And it's not long before he's on the coast. Where he quickly finds a fishing village that's been attacked recently too.
The village, whose inhabitants see themselves as being neither from Dreese or Yandiv.
Is badly destroyed in parts too. Though here, those who survived the attack, have remained.
From a distance, the blurred and shielded elven magic user observes them. Reading a few of their minds as he does so.
"Interesting" murmurs Helbe the elven thief, it's the first thing he's seen in sometime.
Then after he watches the survivors in the fishing village. He continues onwards to the south. And in the warm tropical climes of the equator. He teleports up onto a hill that's on the coast.
He's basically more or less on the border. If the Sultanate of Dreese and the kingdom of Yandiv bothered to draw one up and agree to it.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril of Laerel looks southwards, and in the distance, over eight miles away, and about two to three miles further inland.
Both he and Narladene the ground pixie who is on his right shoulder. Spot the burnt out ruins of what looks like it was a farmhouse.
The outbuildings, and the barn near it, are burnt out shells of what they previously were.
The elven master archer then looks directly south down the coast. He can't see it too clearly, but about four miles away, he thinks he spots another fishing village.
Councillor Reinholt shifts up into the air a few hundred feet. Then he nods his hooded head as he gets a clearer view of the fishing village he's spotted.
A fishing village that looks like it's certain to be the first settlement in the very north of the Sultanate of Dreese.
It too has been attacked. With a number of charred out remains of houses and buildings giving testament that it's been attacked recently.
Even from this distance the elven magic user can see that there's some people still living there. He can also see fishing skiffs out on the water, as some of the villagers see if they can catch anything on the morning tide.
The elven princeling from Laerel suspects that if he was to read the minds of the survivors in that particular village.
He would find out the exact same thing he found out from the survivors in the fishing village to the north, just over the border in Yandiv.
The elven master assassin who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque looks far and wide to the south, and southwest.
Not seeing much in the way of settlements, whether they be villages or farmhouses.
They population here on either side of the border, is minimal at best. With hardly anyone living here for miles.
The elven masterthief has probably come across the significant population spots in the border region between the two nations. And they've all been attacked recently.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, which lies off the coast of the Southlands.
Turns around in midair when Narladene mentions something to him.
Prince Helbenthril Raendril slightly nods his hooded head when he spots the Quick Gull in the distance, flying this way, southwards down the coast of the kingdom of Yandiv.
The highly talented elven magic user waits a little while, then with Narladene holding onto his right shoulder as she can sense he's about to cast, he teleports away, heading towards the approaching airship.
"A village?" asks Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling "Yeah two of them by the sounds of it" replies lord Farque, after they hear Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy call out something from the bow.
The elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, whose keen eyesight has spotted something. And without looking back, the spy Tanith calls out something in the elven language.
"Yeah" says the halfling from the mainland of Dreese "Two of them" adds the former air sailor in the Sultanate's fleet, after hearing what the spy Tanith just called out.
"One on the coast, and one further inland" quietly says the undead warlord, who like the hobbit standing next to him is speaking in the elven language.
Then as the heavily armoured deathlord glances to one side. Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman quietly asks "Wonder who attacked them?".
"We did" says Helbe the elven thief as he suddenly appears right where the lord and ruler of the lands Farque glanced to.
The elven magic user, who stands on the other side of the former air sailor, Jarjin, then adds "Well, i should say some of those in the Sultan's forces who remained on the mainland".
The young elven noble who is the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel, gestures away to the south as he continues with "Over the last day or two, they've attacked places on both sides of the border".
The hobbit who is a member of the deathlord of Farque's personal council, looks up at the large heavily armoured figure standing next to him, who towers over him and everyone else onboard, and quietly asks him "What should we do?".
"Nothing" is the reply from lord Farque, who pauses for a moment or two, as Jarjin Littlefoot and Helbe the elven thief share a look, then the undead warlord adds "Unless we have to" . . . . . .

The Lost Ones 58.

Summer. Dreese & The Far East Coast Of The Continent.

"Seems we can head straight west and hit the coast" says Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling.
"How long will that take?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy.
"A day or so" replies the hobbit who is a former air sailor in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese.
"Apparently it's quicker than flying southwest to the mainland of Dreese" adds the halfling who isn't really who he appears to be.
As he's actually a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Jarjin Littlefoot.
"I take it we'll end up in one of the Five Kingdoms?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith who more often that not, is called Dalin by the others in the group.
Nodding his head, Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman says "Yeah" followed by "The southern most one, whatever it's called".
The hobbit who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, continues with "We can go down the coast a bit, and be in the northern Dreese soon enough".
Gesturing at some of the nearby crew, the former air sailor in the Sultan's fleet then adds "Go into a port town or city that this lot know better".
The spy from the elven principality of Alínlae in the Southlands nods his hooded head as they stand on the slightly raised aft deck of the Quick Gull.
The two of them, the elf and the halfling. Are watching Tovis the war engineer overseeing a couple of the crew. Who are hanging over the stern rail, secured by ropes. As they remove the name plate of the Quick Gull, a vessel that's in the fleet of the Sultanate of Dreese.
Other crew members are changing the rigging of the small, single masted airship. Making it look more like a merchant vessel than a fighting ship.
Though what exactly such a small airship, with quick lines, obviously built for speed. Would ever be carrying in cargo in the guise of a merchant vessel is anybody's guess.
In the distance to the east, nearly out of view of the humans onboard. Is the island they were on this morning. It's getting further and further behind as the Quick Gull heads westwards on this clear, warm summer's day towards the coast of the continent. As they leave the island chain off the coast of the mainland of Dreese further and further behind.
Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who has been talking to the spy Tanith in the elven language. Watches Tovis and the two crew members removing each letter of the name plate for a little bit longer. Before he wanders away, going by the ship's captain and the helmsman.
The halfling from the mainland of Dreese heads forward to a midships, where on the bench against one side of the mast, Mira Reinholt the mage sits.
The once powerful mage from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, is up on deck for the simple reason that lord Farque is below deck.
Jarjin Littlefoot, who like the mage Reinholt is a member of the personal council to lord Farque. Sits down next to the Vexilian mage in exile.
With a quirk to his lips, to stop himself from grinning, Mira Reinholt the mage says "So" followed by "What's it like being a hobbit?".
"Challenging" sourly says the halfling from the mainland of Dreese who like the spellcaster from the Southlands is speaking in elven.
Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson then adds "It's about the worst person I've ever been".
"Oh?" says the once powerful mage in a tone of mild surprise, who continues on with "Worse than that dwarf you were, who Dorc tried to kill all the time?" followed by "Or that sorceress you were too?".
The former air sailor grimaces at the mention of those two people he was previously. Two in a now long list of people he's been since he originally died about fourteen years ago.
"Well, yeah those two were probably worse" sourly says councillor Littlefoot, who quite liked being a dwarf. The first person he ever was after Zubutai Timaginson was killed. Well apart from being petrified all the time because Dorc da Orc wanted to kill him.
Then there was the time he was a sorceress. Which had more than a few challenges. Not least of which was being a woman. As well as spellcaster. Two things he'd rather not be again.
"But this is close behind them" adds the halfling from the mainland of Dreese who points at himself.
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster, then quietly says "Hmmmmm wouldn't of thought Farque would bring you back in the body of a hobbit".
"It wasn't really his fault" says the former air sailor in the Sultan's fleet, who then adds in a sour tone of voice "It was that damn royal thief's fault".
"Oh" says Mira Reinholt, who then asks "What did Helbe do?".
"The lord told him to find a body that was intact after the battle i was killed in" explains Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of a Timagin, who then adds "And for a joke his royal pain in the ass picked this one, saying it was the only one in fairly good shape".
The mage Reinholt can't help himself, and guffaws as his fellow councillor loudly mutters "Damn slanty eyed, pointy eared elven prick".
"Is a short ass, floppy eared prick saying something disparaging about me?" says Helbe the elven thief who suddenly appears out of thin air next to his fellow councillors sitting on the bench at the base of the mast of the Quick Gull.
"Yes" sourly says Jarjin Littlefoot, which causes the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, which lies off the coast of the Southlands, to chuckle as he gestures for his fellow spellcaster, the mage Reinholt to scoot along, so that he can sit on the bench too.
Once he's sitting, and leaning back against the mast of the Quick Gull, Helbe the elven thief with his face upturned to the sun, closes his eyes as he says to the halfling "Just be glad that body was in one piece".
The highly talented elven magic user continues with "About every other body i found was in bits and pieces".
"That's because you only looked at one airship that was destroyed" sourly says councillor Littlefoot, who then adds "And didn't bother to look at anything else".
"Who told you that?" asks the elven masterthief who happens to be part of the royal family that rules the principality of Laerel.
"Dalin" says Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who pauses then continues with "And Tovis" followed by "And Beldane" the halfling from the mainland of Dreese then adds "And you were bloody well laughing when you found this body".
As the mage Reinholt chuckles, the young elven noble who is the grandson of ruling prince of Laerel dryly says "I probably should of done all that when no one was about".
The hobbit who is a former air sailor just shakes his head in disgust, while on the right shoulder of prince Helbenthril Raendril, Narladene the ground pixie is silently laughing.
The Vexilian mage in exile chuckles for a little bit longer, then says "I definitely missed out on that".
The former air sailor in the Sultan's fleet looks in disgust at the swordmaster Reinholt too, then out of spite more than anything, he caustically says "I might be this damn halfling at the moment, but at least I'm not some puppet for that Sultan".
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
Grimaces at the mention of being under the direct control of the Sultan of Dreese. Who now lies dead on the island that they were on first thing this morning. An island that gets further and further away as the small, single masted airship heads west to the coast of the continent.
"True" says Mira Reinholt, who follows that with "That was definitely worse".
The spellcaster who happens to also be a highly skilled swordmaster, will freely admit that being controlled by the Sultan of Dreese. Was one of the worst things he's ever experienced.
More because of the length of time it happened over. As he was taken captive in the middle of spring. And he was only freed first thing this morning. Another midsummer's morning in the tropical climes of the Sultanate of Dreese.
Now it's afternoon, and the Quick Gull is flying westwards to the coast of the continent.
After grumbling to himself in the halfling language, Jarjin Littlefoot lifts his eyebrows as Helbe the elven thief asks the mage Reinholt "You been to the kingdom we're heading to?".
"No, too far south" says the exiled Vexilian swordmaster "I lived in one of the kingdoms further north".
The halfling from the mainland of Dreese then nods his head in understanding. As he recalls that Mira once lived in on the far east coast of the continent when he was a young man.
"Is that where Shur Kee is from?" asks Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson.
"He's from Wah Lee" says councillor Reinholt who continues with "That's the largest and northern most of the five kingdoms".
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation, to be found anywhere in the Southlands. Until he was stripped of most of his powers when he went offworld through another rift/void spell he accidentally cast.
Then says "I lived in the next kingdom to the south of Wah Lee, the second kingdom, Saedau".
"Where you had a shop, wasn't it?" asks the halfling from the mainland of Dreese, who has heard a little of the mage Reinholt's time on the far east coast of the continent.
The Vexilian mage in exile nods his head yes in reply to that, then he grimaces when Helbe the elven thief quietly asks "Is that where they found you?".
Mira Reinholt is silent for a few moments, then he says "Yeah, that's where they found me".
Referring to lord Farque and Dorc da Orc who chased him halfway around the world, searching for him for nearly five years. Until finally finding him in the kingdom of Saedau.
"That must of sucked" quietly says Jarjin aka Zubutai the son of Timagin, who after a brief pause adds "Though they had good reason to do whatever they did to you" he briefly pauses adding, before continuing with "You did try to kill them".
The spellcaster from the Southlands who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, just nods to that. While both Jarjin Littlefoot and Helbe the elven thief glance sideways at the exiled Vexilian mage. Who doesn't say another word on that topic from his past.
Instead he says "Yandiv" followed by "It's the fifth kingdom, the one on the equator" in response to the halfling from the mainland of Dreese asking him "What's this kingdom we're heading straight towards?".
On the right shoulder of the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, who is the grandson of Prince Raendril, who rules that particular elven principality in the Southlands.
Narladene the ground pixie lifts her eyebrows, when she hears a familiar voice down below deck, quietly say in the ground pixie language "Gnat, have the mage come down here".
Getting up, Narladene the ground pixie whispers into the right ear of the elven magic user she's attached to "Lord Farque wants to see Mira".
The elven masterthief slightly nods his hooded head, then prince Helbenthril Raendril quietly says "Mira, the lord wants to see you".
The once powerful mage who was just in the middle of explaining to Jarjin Littlefoot what he knows about the kingdom of Yandiv.
Falls silent for a couple of moments, as his fellow councillors, and the invisible ground pixie look at him.
"Right then" eventually says the swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil.
Who then gets up from the bench at the base of the mast, and heads for the nearest ladder.
The Vexilian mage in exile makes his way down the steps, and because the Quick Gull is so small, he's at captain's cabin in no time, and knocks on the door.
"Enter" says the familiar voice from within the captain's cabin.
Mira Reinholt enters the cabin, where he finds lord Farque sitting at the table facing the door.
On the table are a number of charts and maps that the undead warlord is looking at when the once powerful mage enters the cabin.
"You wanted to see me?" asks the highly skilled swordmaster as he stands infront of the small table, that the large, heavily armoured figure is sitting behind.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque doesn't say anything, and just continues to study some of the maps, and charts on the table.
The mage Reinholt is just wondering if the lord of the death realm is just going to sit there and ignore him.
But eventually lord Farque, or Draugadrottin as he's also known by, to the people of his lands.
Looks up from the maps and charts he's been studying. And he looks at the spellcaster exiled from the city-state of Vexil.
The undead warlord just stares at the once powerful mage, until lord Farque finally says "Don't do it again".
Before the lord of the death realm goes back to studying the maps and charts on the table.
The highly skilled swordmaster, stands there wondering what to say in reply. He stands there for quite a few moments, figuring out what to say.
Instead he doesn't say a thing, as Des'tier which is lord Farque's elven name, which means, The Destroyer.
Without looking up from a map he's carefully studying, says "There's the door behind you" followed by "Fucking use it".
Mira Reinholt the mage slightly nods, then turns around and heads out of the captain's cabin, closing the door behind him . . . . . .

The Lost Ones 57.

Summer. The Island Chain In The Sultanate Of Dreese.

They watch the airship the Quick Gull head south over the interior of the island for a moment.
Then Helbe the elven thief turns to the Viceroy Of Dreese and tells him "Best of luck".
"And you too" is the reply of the Viceroy of Dreese, who looks away to their left across the clearing as the low thud of an explosion can be heard in that direction, to the east, to the shore about a mile and a half away.
"I'd wait a bit until that lot exhaust themselves" says the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, that lies off the coast of the Southlands, which is all the way on the otherside of the continent.
"I will" says the local nobleman who has been at war with his older brother the Sultan of Dreese since before the springtime.
The Sultan who now lies dead on the beach about a mile and a half away to the east.
The highly talented elven magic user nods his hooded head to the Viceroy in parting, then he disappears as he shifts away.
The Viceroy looks southwards at the departing airship. And silently thanks the foreign mercenaries who have led his brother's forces, who have given him this opportunity.
Then as the Quick Gull continues on it's way southwards across the island. The Viceroy hurries across the clearing to where some of his men are waiting.
As they, and the rest of his forces, who survived yesterday's battle. Will head east to the coast. To see if they can somehow finally win this campaign he's fought against his older brother.
Onboard the small, single masted airship the Quick Gull. Jarjin Littlefoot the halfling as he looks to aft, asks "Think they can win?".
"Maybe" replies lord Farque, who is standing next to the helmsman at the wheel.
The vast majority of the crew have decided to stay onboard. With only a handful staying down on the island. As they decided to join the Viceroy, as their sympathies lied with him, even though they've fought against him since his failed coup attempt against his older brother, the now dead Sultan of Dreese.
"He just needs to be patient" continues the undead warlord as Helbe the elven thief suddenly appears on deck, near the port rail.
"Those spellcasters will do a hell of the lot of the work for him" continues the heavily armoured deathlord, who then adds "And I'm guessing most of them will probably join him".
Jarjin Littlefoot, along with Helbe the elven thief as he walks over, nod in agreement with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque, as they look to aft, and to the east.
Where in the morning sunshine, they see the flash of an explosion just off the coast, in the waters of the channel.
A couple of moments later they hear the sound from that explosion. As a spell breaks apart one of the Sultan's sailing ships out in the channel between the two islands. Which are near the equator, at the very northern end of the chain of islands that are off the coast of the mainland of Dreese.
"That was that mage again" says the elven masterthief from the Southlands, the young elven noble who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel then adds "He's the most pissed off by far".
"I can well imagine" dryly murmurs the hobbit who is a former air sailor in the Sultan's fleet.
The halfling from the mainland of Dreese, who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Jarjin Littlefoot.
Glances behind them, forward to a midships to where Mira Reinholt the mage is leaning on the port rail, looking aft towards the east coast of the island as the Quick Gull flies southwest over the interior of the island.
"Speaking of mages" quietly says Jarjin aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who like the lord of the death realm, and the elven princeling, is conversing in the elven language.
Both the halfling former air sailor, and the elven master assassin glance at the heavily armoured deathlord who stands between the two of them.
Who has looked at the mage Reinholt just the once since the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands came onboard. And hasn't spoken to him, or even acknowledged him since.
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque who is also known by the name of Draugadrottin by the people of his nation, doesn't mention the once powerful mage at all, even with that prompt from Jarjin aka Zubutai Timaginson.
Instead the undead warlord turns to the helmsman, and tells him in the local dialect "Drop us down fifty feet, to just above the treetops".
"Yes sir" says the helmsman of the small, single masted airship that's the fastest in the Sultan's fleet.
The heavily armoured deathlord then turns to the captain who is standing nearby, who is keeping an eye on not just the helmsman, but the rest of the crew who have remained onboard.
"Well be putting into dock somewhere on the coast of the mainland" says the undead being who has the elven name of Des'tier, which means, The Destroyer.
"We'll need supplies for our journey westwards" adds the heavily armoured deathlord, who continues with "Make a list of everything we'll need".
"Yes my lord" says the ship's captain, who then asks "How far is the journey sir?".
"About twelve thousand miles or so" is the reply of Draugadrottin.
The captain briefly winces, as he and those of his crew who remained onboard, were told they were going to go on a long journey to the otherside of the continent. Now he's found out just how long.
The ship's captain nods, then he calls over his first officer to take over the watch. While he goes off in search of the chief bosun, along with the cook, and the ship's carpenter, who doubles as chief cargo loader. To work out what they'll need in the way of supplies and equipment for such a long journey by air to the otherside of the continent.
After making his way aft, Beldane the cleric who has just had a quiet word with Mira Reinholt the mage to see how he's doing.
Makes his way to where Tovis the war engineer is at the stern rail, looking through a brass, cylindrical eyepiece.
The fighting cleric nods to lord Farque, Jarjin Littlefoot and prince Helbenthril Raendril as he walks by them, as they quietly speak to one another in the elven language, as they stand near the wheel.
The powerful cleric from the kingdom of Nastell in the Southlands, stands next to the young engineer at the rail.
"They're still at it" says Tovis the war engineer as he continues to look through the brass, cylindrical eyepiece.
"I know, i can feel it from here" says Beldane the cleric who can still sense the myriad of spells that are being cast, on one of the beaches on the east coast of the island, and in the surrounding area.
As the cadre of spellcasters who have been under the control of the Sultan of Dreese, who have been held against their will. Are now free due to the Sultan being dead. And are free to do what they want.
And what most of them are wanting is revenge for what they've been through.
And they're doing that by attacking the Sultan's forces. Who until just after dawn, had thought they were victorious with their campaign against the Viceroy's forces.
As they had apparently defeated the Viceroy's fleet and army yesterday in battle. And had even captured the Viceroy himself.
But everything this morning has been turned on it's head. As the Sultan has been killed by the Viceroy. And now the nearly thirty spellcasters who were under the direct control of the supreme ruler of Dreese. Are running amok, attacking any of the Sultan's forces they come across.
"He might have a chance of victory" quietly says the member of the church of Glaine, referring to the Viceroy of Dreese.
"He might" says the young engineer who previously served in the army of a baron Harkonin, in his homeland, the kingdom of Druvic. Another nation that's all the way on the otherside of the continent, in the Southlands.
The war engineer who is a captain in the armies of Farque, puts the brass, cylindrical eyepiece away, and looks at the fighting cleric as he adds "Nothing to do with us now".
The spellcaster from the kingdom of Nastell nods his head in agreement. For lord Farque had always told them that once Mira Reinholt the mage was freed, and that they had got themselves an airship, they'd leave no matter what. And that's exactly what they're doing as the Quick Gull heads to the southwest on what looks like is going to be another warm and clear summer's day here in the very north of the island chain off the coast of the mainland of Dreese.
Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy comes up from below deck after using the privy. Which he's been dying to use since well before dawn.
He'd freely admit to anyone who'd ask. That he felt more than a little nervous earlier when he took the Viceroy before the Sultan of Dreese.
The spy from the elven principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, is just glad that the plan they come up with, actually worked, just as well as could be expected.
Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly called by the others in the group, looks around and sees that they're heading to the southwest across the island. And that soon they'll be over the ocean again as they head west to the mainland of Dreese, which is a coastal kingdom, on the east coast of the continent.
The spy Tanith then crosses the deck to the port side, where the mage Reinholt stsnds at the rail.
As the elven spy does, he glances aft to the wheel. Which to next, lord Farque stands with Helbe the elven thief and Jarjin Littlefoot. Both of who are members of the deathlord of Farque's personal council.
The other member of the undead warlord's personal council who is onboard. Is the once powerful mage from the city-state of Vexil. His homeland which he is in exile from.
Who Dalin sees is being ignored by the lord of the death realm who is in conversation with two of the members of his personal council standing with him.
"Feeling better?" quietly asks Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy as he leans on the port rail right next to the spellcaster from the Southlands, who also happens to be a highly skilled swordmaster.
"I am, thanks" is the reply from Mira Reinholt the mage, who is more than relieved that the Sultan of Dreese is dead.
"And you?" asks the once powerful mage.
"I am now" is the dry sounding reply from the elven spy who is originally from the principality of Alínlae.
The mage Reinholt nods his hooded head, then quietly says "Thanks" followed by "Not just for this morning" he then adds "But for all the other times you visited" the exiled Vexilian mage briefly pauses before saying "It meant a lot".
"No worries" says Dalin, who then tells the member of lord Farque's personal council "You'd be pleased to know that your swords, and most of your things that came through the rift/void with you is below deck".
The spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands. Can't help but grin at hearing that. As he thought he had lost most of his things when he and the others arrived on this side of the continent, when the mage Reinholt accidentally cast a riff/void spell.
"Good to know" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who has missed some of his possessions as he was under the control of the Sultan of Dreese.
Especially his main sword, which if lost, would be extremely difficult to replace.
The mage Reinholt then faintly smiles as Dalin nods at the spellcaster from the Southlands left arm, and dryly says "I'm just glad you didn't have to resort to using that" followed by "You would of been shooting air at him".
The practitioner of magic who was the youngest ever member of the mage council of Vexil, snorts then says "Same here" he continues with "I'll need some new bolts for it too".
"I'm sure we'll be able to find some for it on our way back to the Southlands" says the elven spy who is an officer in the scouts and rangers division in the armies of Farque.
At the mention of the Southlands, Mira Reinholt glances aft to where lord Farque, Jarjin Littlefoot and Helbe the elven thief are.
The once powerful mage grins as he looks at the hobbit, who Zubutai the barbarian hordesman is now.
Though the grin quickly disappears as he watches the large, heavily armoured figure of lord Farque.
Noticing the mage Reinholt watching those near the wheel to aft, the spy Tanith quietly tells him "I'm sure things will be fine, and he'll speak to you" Dalin pauses for a moment or two before adding "Eventually".
The spellcaster who is in exile from his homeland of Vexil, for betraying the city-state in the middle of a war, sourly smiles as he glances at the tall elf in the gray hooded cloak standing beside him at the port rail.
"You don't know how angry and vindictive he can be" quietly says Mira Reinholt, who continues with "This is the same man who along with Dorc chased me for nearly five years to this side of the continent".
The spy from the elven principality of Alínlae nods, as he's heard all about how lord Farque and Dorc da Orc searched for, and pursued the Vexilian mage in exile, from the Southlands, across the Great Western Ocean to the empire of Nors and Tran. Back across the Great Western Ocean to the Southlands. Then eastwards, out of the Southlands, and across multiple lands and nations to this side of the continent.
"Well, that was a little different" quietly says the spy Tanith, who briefly pauses before adding "You know, you did try to kill them".
"True" murmurs the swordmaster Reinholt, who then nods when the elven spy quietly tells him "What you did that brought us here was an accident".
"The second time I've done so" quietly says the once powerful mage.
"The first time in what?" quietly says Dalin who then adds "In twelve or fourteen years?".
As he's heard of the time before he joined the group, when the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil accidentally cast a rift/void spell in the past.
"Yeah" quietly says Mira Reinholt the mage with a nod of his head, who after a moment's pause as he looks aft to where lord Farque is near the wheel speaking with Helbe the elven thief and Jarjin Littlefoot, as he silently adds, I'm pretty sure he holds a grudge from back then too . . . . . .