Chapter Seventeen: The Haertland

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"What do we have here Captain Faenir, pardon the pun?"

"Seems we have two slave knight warbands, an orc and a human. Trying to skirt by the Haertland without leave." It was Elwin who asked this, one of the more rough and tumble high elves. He pushed roughly at Meister Kevin and eyed Durug warrily, smiling devilishly, wanting one or all to do something stupid, so he could show them his true power.

"Shame. Can't have the likes of these ill-contented arseholes pass through the Haertland unchecked, aye?" Captain Faenir spat out unkindly. It was very un-elvish of him to do so. He seemed too pretty to do and say such things, with his silver silk flowing hair, pale glistening skin and silver plate armor. Yet the slave knights knew better. These were high elves, or light elves for that matter, given their bright and glowing skin they were known to sport. They were riddled with pomp and were very pristine, donning massive cheekbones, deep set eyes that were unusually aged, and usually light and fair, with the quintessential pointed ears as many non-humans as them were known to don.

"We were nowhere near the Haertland! We stepped around, we had no intention of coming upon your lands my kind sirs!" Meister Kevin cried out in a less than intimidating voice. He seemed more childlike than anything in his yell and debased the honor of the slave knights by pleading aloud as such. The slave knights cast their visage away from Meister Kevin in shame and disgrace

Captain Faenir looked upon Meister Kevin with a light in his eyes. A light that was cool and imposing. "What is this rat's name Elwin?"

"Give us your name, curr," Elwin responded gruffly and Meister Kevin spat at his feet.

"I'll give you my name when you give us leave and you fuck off!" The comment earned Meister Kevin a back hand to his face with a gauntleted fist. His nose broke and a tooth cracked. He fell to the ground at the blow, and landed with a hand covering his face. He spat the broken bit of broken tooth onto the ground as blood washed over his mouth and chin. His eyes glazed over with a haze as he looked at everything and nothing.

Several other elves stepped up and began to give Meister Kevin a vicious beating, but Captain Faenir quickly raised a hand to stop them. "None of that! Not yet at least. Not before our King has something to say about it. Make sure the prisoners are secure. Make sure they are disarmed, and make sure this one," he pointed a long and delicate finger at Meister Kevin, "is watched closely." Captain Faenir leered at Meister Kevin, which was followed with a devilish smile and a lick of his lips. He then turned toward the slave knights.

Captain Faenir raised his voice, "Listen up you slave knight dogs. By order of the King Eloiine,and ruler of the Haertland, you are remanded to the custody of the Kingsguard for trespass, espionage, and vagrancy. By such authority you will be escorted to the Haertland capital courts to face trial, sentencing, and execution. Have you a common cause to rebut the accusations you will have the process due to you under our laws of the land. Which since you are not of our land, that is none," the high elves in tow barked out a laugh at that as the worked around the slave knights taking their weapons, "Other than that, it would do you well to comport yourself or," Captain Faenir unsheathed his blade and in one fluid motion cut off the ear of Meister Kevin with a short quick swipe of a short sword. It was a quick and terse movement, barely perceptible by the human eye, and before Meister Kevin could muster a cry, the blade had returned to its scabbard. Meister Kevin screamed in agony as blood poured out of the right side of his head. He grabbed at his non-existent ear with his other unoccupied hand, as red liquid dribbled through his fingers.

"Or we will begin cutting off pieces of this fair one right here. Aye!?" Captain Faenir looked about, and was met with blank stares beyond the slave knight's visors, as the sound of them being tied up and unburdened of their weapons rang out in the falling dusk. None made any move to resist, not just yet, as they did not have any hand to play. Sir Wallace cautioned calm throughout the warbands, to insure that they would get out of this alive. The slave knights reluctantly abided. "Good. Kingsguard! Onward!"

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