The Homecoming 144.

Chaos Ensues...

One moment baron Raevar Harkonin finds himself standing beside sir Haleníc at the western edge of their camp. The next moment he finds himself further in the camp, near where the road is, and those tents that are on fire.
The nobleman who rules the fief across the border to the east, who is pretty sure that someone is holding his right arm. Blinks as the next moment he finds himself to the east of his army's camp.
The head of the Harkonin family looks to his right to see who it is that's holding his arm.
Then all of a sudden he finds himself somewhere else. The baron blinks in surprise again as he finds himself on top of one of the corner towers of castle Lé Dic.
Then Raevar Harkonin hears an unfamiliar voice say "Well you wanted in the castle, so here you are".
Before the baron can say anything, he finds himself blacking out as he falls into unconsciousness.
"Where!" demands Palvarc the dark druid as he stands at the western edge of the Harkonin camp.
The spellcaster who is the advisor to baron Harkonin is glaring at his staff, which turns in his hands, and points further into the camp.
The dark druid Palvarc is just about to teleport towards the middle of the camp that's been set up on the tourney field to the south of castle Lé Dic.
When his magical staff slightly jerks in his hand, still pointing east, but apparently further away from the middle of the camp, a part of which is well on fire.
Just then, beside the spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east. Sir Haleníc says to the dark druid "Ah Palvarc, what's that?".
Baron Harkonin's advisor scowls once more, this time because the young knight referred to him by his name.
The dark druid looks at the nobleborn teenager, who is pointing away to something within the camp.
Palvarc slightly frowns as he looks to where sir Haleníc points, then seeing what it is, the spellcaster from the Harkonin fief mutters "Shit" followed loudly by "Move!" to the young knight and the others with them.
The dark druid runs to one side, then teleports away. Getting clear of the ball of strange white energy that's coming in this direction through the rows of tents.
"Wait" says Narladene the ground pixie, who then adds "The other way now, to the east".
Shur Kee the monk who stands upon the road that's to the south of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
Spins around and faces to the east. As he does, he spots Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic running up onto the road to join him.
The short, statured monk from the far eastern coast of the kingdom. Glances at Narladene who is hovering next to his head. He looks to where she points. And he sees the dark druid Palvarc appear on the open ground to the east of the road.
"Bru Li spirit!" shouts Shur Kee the monk as he thrusts his cupped hands out infront of him, forming a ball, nearly nine foot wide, of spiritual energy, that takes off towards the spellcaster from the Harkonin fief who has just appeared.
Palvarc turns around and looks towards the road that's now behind him.
"Damn it" mutters the dark druid as he sees who is upon the road, and sees what's coming towards him.
Baron Harkonin's advisor sees sir Percavelle Lé Dic and the ork creature join the short fellow wearing the strange looking hat, who is upon the road.
Then as the point of his staff points to the southeast corner of castle Lé Dic, then a moment later, further to the east of the massive castle.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east, casts a teleportation spell once more.
Again to get clear of another of the strange looking balls of white energy that's just a couple of feet off the ground, as it comes hurtling towards him from the road that's to the south of castle Lé Dic.
Dorc da Orc grunts in disappointment as the dark druid Palvarc disappears.
"Doth the purveyor of the dark arts cowardly run away like all his kind" states sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he and the ork warleader stand to either side of the short statured monk.
As Dorkindle sniffs to try and locate baron Harkonin's advisor. Shur Kee the monk asks Narladene the ground pixie "Where has he fled to?".
"After Helbe" replies the tiny winged creature as she hovers beside the physical adept who hails from the kingdom of Wah Lee, which is on the far eastern coast of the continent.
And before the former earl of Lé Dic can ask the naturally magical creature where the elven princeling is.
She tells the three of them "He's in the castle" she briefly pauses before continuing with "No, he's now to the east" Narladene briefly pauses once again, then she adds "Nope, he's back in the castle" the ground pixie pauses once more, before saying "Now he's to the north of the castle" a massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for generations.
Dorc da Orc grunts, then sourly says "We fucken get it, he moving around lots".
"Pray tell, why is that?" asks the heavily armoured knight who is a member of the order of Saint Mar-che.
"Because he has taken the baron prisoner" is the reply from the ground pixie who then disappears from sight.
After the former paladin and the ork weaponsmith quickly share a look. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic, hoping that the invisible tiny winged creature is still in the vicinity.
Asks "Does that poor excuse of a despot Raevar Harkonin still live?".
"He does" is the reply of the naturally magical creature who has the ability, to allow herself to be seen by only those she wants to see her.
Only other naturally magical creatures, the undead, and animals can see her all the time.
"Do you think his highness" says the nobleborn knight, who is interrupted by Dorc da Orc saying "She gone".
The ork weaponsmith from the very bottom of the world who has lost the scent of the tiny winged creature, as she has gone underground.
Waves in the direction of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family, and he adds "She fucken gone thataway".
As the former paladin shakes his full helmed head in disappointment at both baron Harkonin and the dark druid Palvarc getting away. Even though Helbe the elven thief has captured the head of the Harkonin family, and has him with him.
Shur Kee the monk after looking around, says "What shall we do now?".
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks after glancing around, gestures back towards castle Lé Dic, and the number of enemy on the moat, and others assaulting the south wall of the massive castle.
"Fucken heaps of them Harky cunts there" says the big, burly ork who is sweating profusely in the afternoon sunshine "Plenty for us to kill" adds the warleader of the ork race, who then sets off for the moat across the open ground on this side of the road.
Then after Shur Kee and sir Percavelle Lé Dic glance at one another, the two of them follow after the large ork who is making his way back to castle Lé Dic.
Up on the battlements of the south wall of the massive castle, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger, who is above the south gates of castle Lé Dic.
Who has just let an arrow fly from his elven made longbow. Here's a quiet, familiar and definitely female voice say to him in the elven language "Helbe has taken the baron prisoner".
The human ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen grin when he hears that, then Riley Hait the mercenary ranger quietly asks in elven "Where?".
"Around" is the reply in the same language before she moves away, heading to where she can sense the elven magic user she is attached to.
After asking the ground pixie something else, and getting no reply.
The ranger Hait nods his head, when one of the nearby Lé Dic soldiers points across to the otherside of the moat.
There to the east of the road on the southern side of the massive castle. The mercenary ranger 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 Riley Hait.
Spots Dorc da Orc, Shur Kee the monk and sir Percavelle Lé Dic crossing the open ground on that side of the road. Heading towards the moat, and the enemy who are assaulting the south side of castle Lé Dic.
Well, i guess something finally is going our way, Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman thinks to himself, who takes another arrow from his quiver, and puts it to his elven made longbow, and shouts "Lé Dic!" by way of encouragement to the defenders along the battlements.
He's answered by a ragged chorus of "Lé Dic!" from soldiers, castle servants and townsfolk who are on the parapet defending this side of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for centuries.
The dark druid Palvarc is invisible once again. As he stands near the moat on the east side of castle Lé Dic.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east, knows that he's been led on a wild goose chase, by the practitioner of magic who has taken baron Harkonin.
Since the dark druid can't sense the other spellcaster, he has to rely on his staff to locate whoever it is that's taken the head of the Harkonin family.
The advisor to baron Harkonin sighs in frustration as the tip of his staff points away to the south, then a few moments later, point right at castle Lé Dic.
You can't do this all day whoever you are, Palvarc the dark druid angrily thinks to himself, the spellcaster from the Harkonin fief, who knows he'll be a hunted man if he lets the baron die.
After all he's not the only noble in the kingdom of Druvic whose allegiance lies with those who follow the old ways. And if one of them were to die, the others would seek retribution upon the person, or persons who allowed one of their number to die.
Even though Palvarc is a dark druid and a practitioner of the old ways himself. It's those of the nobility who are followers of the druidic ways, who have the power and influence. Who allow people like Palvarc to flourish. Especially here in the east of the kingdom.
Besides if the head of the Harkonin family was to die. Palvarc would lose his benefactor. Not to mention his foothold in the stronghold of the Harkonin fief.
For the baron's son and heir, doesn't particularly care for his father's advisor. Palvarc knows he would lose his place of influence if Raevar Harkonin was to die, and his son become the baron of their family's fief.
The spellcaster from the Harkonin fief who would like nothing better than to blast a hole into the side of castle Lé Dic. But is unable to, as the auguries he cast before the attack upon the Lé Dic fief, showed him that the baron would lose if he, Palvarc directly attacked the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family,
Teleports to the top of the northeast corner tower of the castle when his staff points at castle Lé Dic for some time, and doesn't move from it.
His auguries from the human sacrifices he undertook back in the Harkonin fief warned him from attacking the massive castle itself.
But they didn't show him anything about attacking the defenders of castle Lé Dic.
So the invisible spellcaster shoves one of the soldiers off the top of the northeast corner tower.
And cracks another one across the head. The third and final archer upon the top of the tower backs away as he wonders what's going on.
The dark druid thrusts his magical staff into the guts of the Lé Dic soldier.
Then pushes him off the top of the tower. To fall to the courtyard below.
Palvarc finds it extremely satisfying using physical force to get rid of those three soldiers, more so than if he was to of used magic upon them.
Then the invisible spellcaster goes to slowly point his staff around in a complete circle, and it stops fairly quickly.
The advisor to baron Harkonin looks to where it's pointing. And he slightly frowns as it's pointing directly at the central keep of the massive castle.
Baron Harkonin's advisor waits for a while, and when his magical staff still points at the central keep of castle Lé Dic, he teleports over to it.
Now you probably shouldn't of done that, Helbe the elven thief thinks to himself as he looks to where he can sense the dark druid Palvarc.
The young elven noble who has secured the unconscious baron Harkonin in the loft of one of the stables in the west of castle Lé Dic.
Is up one of the towers of the central keep of the massive castle, looking down at the roof of the largest keep within the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user glances at Narladene the ground pixie who appears on his right shoulder.
Who points down at the roof of the central keep itself, and quietly tells him "He's there".
Prince Helbenthril Raendril nods his hooded head as that's where he senses the invisible dark druid.
Then the tiny winged creature who is standing upon his right shoulder, who can clearly see baron Harkonin's advisor, and what he's doing.
Quietly tells the elven master assassin she's attached to "He's moving his staff around trying to locate you". The naturally magical creature briefly pauses, then says "It's pointing up here at you now".
Right, here we go then, Helbe the elven thief thinks to himself with a nod of his hooded head.
Then as Narladene grabs a hold of his shoulder, the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel shifts away to directly confront the invisible dark druid who is the advisor to baron Harkonin . . . . . .

The Homecoming 143.

Into The Battle...

They appear a couple of miles to the southwest of castle Lé Dic. And Helbe the elven thief nods his hooded head when Narladene the ground pixie says to him in the elven language "He's in that camp of their's".
"Seems things are a little busy there" murmurs Helbe the elven thief as he looks at the massive castle in the distance.
He then switches to the common language and says to Shur Kee the monk "He's in their camp" the young elven noble briefly pauses before continuing with "Which seems to be on fire".
Narladene who has just briefly dropped down to the ground, then made her way back up onto the right shoulder of the elven princeling she's attached to, dryly says "Stinky is in that camp" followed by "Percy too".
"Well we know how it caught on fire then" dryly says the elven magic user, who then tells the short, statured monk "If you see him, attack him".
"I will friend Helbe" says Shur Kee the monk as they look towards the battle for castle Lé Dic in the distance.
It's taken them a fair bit of time to return to the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
For the simple reason the young elven noble, since he doesn't know how to create a rift spell that goes a considerable amount of distance.
Had to teleport and shift them back to castle Lé Dic, from the west of the fief where they encountered baron Harkonin's advisor, the dark druid, Palvarc.
"How fares the battle?" asks the acolyte in the order of Bru Li who can't clearly see what's happening along the battlements of the massive castle, as it's a bit too faraway for him to see at the moment.
"Busy" is the reply of the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel who is paying attention to the enemy camp, more than he is to the actual battle along the walls of castle Lé Dic.
"He's casting" quietly says prince Helbenthril Raendril in elven to the ground pixie standing upon his right shoulder, as he can sense the dark druid within the enemy camp, that's on the tourney field to the south of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for centuries.
"Percy has just used his sword on him" says the tiny winged creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel nods his hooded head as he senses the wards baron Harkonin's advisor has up, rapidly depleting.
Then the elven masterthief looks quickly to where Narladene points, as she says "There, on the edge of camp" followed by "On this side" the naturally magical creature then adds "It's the baron".
The highly talented elven spellcaster spots the group of people at the western edge of the Harkonin camp. And he sees that one of them is the baron himself.
Taking care of him might be better than dealing with the druid, Helbe the elven thief thinks to himself, who is just about to teleport him and Shur Kee towards the western edge of the camp, the Harkonin army have set up on the tourney field to the south of castle Lé Dic. When he senses the dark druid Palvarc casting again.
The elven master archer looks up into the sky a couple of moments after the ground pixie on his right shoulder has done the same thing.
And in the afternoon sky, they spot the advisor to baron Harkonin, levitating about a thousand feet above the ground.
"Shur Kee there he is" says the elven princeling as he points out the enemy spellcaster up in the mid afternoon sky.
Then the elven magic user blurs himself and the physical adept. And he shifts the two of them away. Towards castle Lé Dic and the battle taking place there. More precisely towards the camp of the Harkonin army, that's on the field where the local tournaments are held here in the Lé Dic fief.
They shift closer to the enemy camp, the elven masterthief has to shift them again when Narladene informs him that the dark druid Palvarc is going to use his staff on them.
The baron it is then, prince Helbenthril Raendril thinks to himself after shifting them closer to the road south of castle Lé Dic, and south of the camp that the Harkonin army has set up on the tourney field.
Or maybe both? silently adds the young elven noble from the principality of Laerel who after quickly glancing at the physical adept beside him, tells the acolyte in the order of Bru Li "Shur Kee while you confront the druid, I'll take care of the baron".
The short, statured monk who hails from the far eastern coast of the continent, basically the otherside of the world. Nods his head in understanding, and is slightly relieved when the elven magic user adds "Narladene stay with Shur Kee".
The elven masterthief then tells the ground pixie something in the elven language that the physical adept can't understated.
Then in common, the elven master assassin asks the monk from the far eastern kingdom of Wah Lee "Ready?".
"I am" is the reply of Shur Kee, which he justs get out before the elven spellcaster shifts him away, with Narladene clinging onto the odd shaped conical hat of the short statured monk.
The elven magic user who is watching the dark druid in the afternoon sky, who has turned this way and is waiting for him to do something.
Faintly smiles, then the blurred and shielded elven masterthief shifts away, heading towards the western side of the enemy camp, that has fire spreading through it.
Up in the mid afternoon sky, Palvarc the dark druid murmurs "Where now?" as he points his staff, in the general direction of south and west.
The advisor to baron Harkonin after glancing down into the camp below, where he spots sir Percavelle Lé Dic and the ork creature.
Feels his staff turn and point directly south, onto the road to the south of the field where the Harkonin army has it's camp.
The staff points there for a little while, and the dark druid is just about to cast there. When all of a sudden, it points into the camp. Twice, one after the other. First to the south of where the fire is. Then to the western edge of the field.
Seeing and sensing no one, to where the staff points first. But figuring there's someone there, who is invisible.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east, looks to the western edge of the camp.
And there along that side of the field, the dark druid spots baron Harkonin, and the others with the head of the Harkonin family.
"Shit" mutters Palvarc who realises he's dealing with two people who are opposing him. Likely to be the two who he confronted earlier today in the west of the Lé Dic fief.
Who he fled from as he had no luck whatsoever against them.
The advisor to baron Harkonin bitterly smiles, and knows no matter what, he has to keep the baron safe at all costs.
The dark druid goes to teleport down to the baron, to whisk him away to safety. When he spots something out of the corner of his left eye, down in the camp, at the southern end of it, near the road.
"Once you do your er, um thing" says Narladene to Shur Kee "You won't be invisible anymore" adds the naturally magical creature.
"I know this" says the acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li, who knows that any magic is nullified by his unique power once he unleashes it.
The tiny winged creature hops off the short statured monks hat and flies away, as he take half a step forward, slightly turns his body, and looks up through the smoke that drifts by, to where he can see the figure in the mid afternoon sky above the Harkonin camp.
Shur Kee reaches up and briefly clutches the jade pendant he wears on a fine silver chain around his neck.
It's glowing green when he lets go of it. Then with his hands down by his side again, he thrusts them up at the figure floating up in sky above the enemy camp, as he shouts "Bru Li spirit!".
Further into the camp, Dorc da Orc who along with sir Percavelle Lé Dic is looking up at the figure of Palvarc the dark druid in the sky above them, and is grumbling about how they're going to get at the advisor to baron Harkonin. Suddenly grunts as he catches wind of something.
"What is it beast?" asks sir Percavelle Lé Dic who notices the large ork turn to the south, and look that way through the camp.
"The tree fucker and the little monkey are here" is the reply of Dorc da Orc who then sourly adds in a mutter "And that lil' fucken bee".
Behind the faceplate of his full helm, the former earl of Lé Dic frowns as he wonders who the ork warleader is referring to. Then the heavily armoured knight realises the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, means Helbe the elven thief and Shur Kee the monk.
"Hmmm maybe his highness can get that despot druid down here, so that we can give him a good old fashioned drubbing, wot" muses the former paladin as he looks back up into the sky above them, where the advisor to baron Harkonin is floating.
Then the two of them, hear the familiar voice of Shur Kee the monk somewhere to the south of them, shout "Bru Li spirit!".
Even the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che is able to hear the shout of the physical adept. True, it's a little faint to his ears. But he can still hear it. As he figures the short, statured monk must be in the southern part of the enemy camp.
Shur Kee the monk becomes visible on the road after the near nine foot wide ball of strange, white spiritual energy forms infront of him.
Then shoots up into the sky, going through some of the smoke that's drifting across the road infront of the monk who has become the living conduit of the Jade Warrior, Bru Li.
"You two, this way now!" says Narladene the ground pixie who suddenly appears infront of Dorc da Orc and sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
Brandishing her tiny, but extremely sharp sword, which she waves away to the south.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che blinks in surprise, as he has only even seen the tiny winged creature a handful of times at most, in the few years he's been in the group.
While Dorkindle, who caught wind of the ground pixie approaching them, sourly smiles as he looks at the naturally magical creature.
Then just as the large ork is about to tell Narladene to fuck off, the tiny winged creature tells him and the former earl of Lé Dic "Hurry, you're to protect Shur Kee from that druid".
Then stabbing her tiny sword in their direction, the ground pixie adds "Now move!".
After glancing at one another, the nobleborn knight and the warleader of the ork race head south through the camp, following after the tiny winged creature who is flying infront of them.
As they run, they both spot the white ball of strange looking energy shooting up above, and then behind them into the afternoon sky, presumably heading towards where the dark druid Palvarc is.
"Shit" mutters the advisor to baron Harkonin when he sees what's coming up towards him from the south of the camp below.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east, grimaces as he doesn't particularly want to face that again after the failure earlier today in the west of the Lé Dic fief.
Then the dark druid goes to teleport away, to get away from the ball of strange looking white energy coming up towards him, that after his experiences earlier in the day, he knows he can't counter magically.
He goes to teleport down to where baron Harkonin is on the western edge of the camp.
"That's Palvarc alright" says sir Haleníc as they look up into the sky "Must be trying to locate that idiot Percavelle and that big, bloody green thing" muses baron Harkonin as they look up into the afternoon sky above the camp of the baron's army.
The young knight sir Haleníc is just about say something to those with them, when he changes his mind, and instead says "He's just disappeared" as the baron's advisor vanishes from the afternoon sky above the camp.
Almost instantaneously, baron Harkonin vanishes too. Much to the surprise of sir Haleníc and the others.
A moment later, and the dark druid Palvarc appears next to them, and after frowning as he looks around, Palvarc asks "Where's the baron?" . . . . . .

The Homecoming 142.

Camp Battle...

The dark druid Palvarc pauses and looks away to his left, and after seeing nothing that way between the tents, he continues on.
The spellcaster from the Harkonin fief, who at this moment is invisible thanks to a spell he's cast upon himself.
Once again senses in the direction he's slowly walking towards. The advisor to baron Harkonin nods his head. As he senses, not one, but two magical items in the way he's going.
Both belonging to sir Percavelle Lé Dic. One of which, a shield. The dark druid is now extremely cautious of, after what happened earlier in the afternoon.
When one of the spells shot from his staff. Came back at him, faster and more powerful, after it struck the shield that the former earl of Lé Dic has.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east. Who has only just regained consciousness after being knocked out by his own spell that came back and hit him.
Glances at his staff after putting the tip of it to the ground. It just gives him a general warning in relation to who else is here in the camp from castle Lé Dic.
The large green creature that's apparently an ork. Who Palvarc thought he had killed, when he hit it with a spell that knocked it off the battlements of castle Lé Dic.
Wherever the creature is, it must not be moving. As his staff can usually pick up the movement of people who aren't spellcasters.
Baron Harkonin's advisor knows that the ground pixie who is entombed within the gnarled top of his staff. Is limited in it's capabilities compared to others of it's kind.
The spellcaster from the Harkonin fief, suspects the ground pixie if it was whole and free. Would probably locate the ork creature, even if it is completely still. Which apparently the one with sir Percavelle Lé Dic seems to be.
There you are Lé Dic, Palvarc the dark druid thinks to himself as he looks towards a couple of tents just a dozen yards away.
The advisor to baron Harkonin, who can see flames further away to his right, where tents closer to the road, are on fire.
Senses the magical items in the possession of the former earl of Lé Dic, just up ahead behind one of the two tents.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east, takes a few cautious steps forward. And though he's invisible, he plans to be careful when he deals with the uncle of lady Linara Lé Dic.
After all, the nobleborn knight has that magical shield with him. And Palvarc doesn't want his own spell to rebound again, and hit him like last time.
Once was enough. And after what he faced earlier in the day out in the west of the Lé Dic fief.
He doesn't want things to go askew for him again. Especially against those who aren't spellcasters.
The dark druid takes another step forward, and lifts his staff, pointing it at the tent he knows the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che is behind.
Baron Harkonin's advisor steps forward once more, and as he goes to use the power of his magical staff.
He suddenly smells the most putrid and fetid smell imaginable. The dark druid almost gags as it reeks so much.
Then all of sudden, something slams into the side of the barrier spell he has up around himself.
It hits so hard, the invisible spellcaster almost stumbles to the side. He looks quickly to his left, at the tent beside him. Just as something large and green, swings a rather sizeable axe at him.
The dark druid does stumble this time as his barrier spell is battered. Palvarc knows he can't take too many more hits like that, or his barrier spell will fail.
The spellcaster from the very south of the Harkonin fief. Who is only really comfortable casting two spells at once. It's why he uses his staff when he does something destructive.
Turns completely to his left, lifting the point of his staff in that direction as he does so.
And as he does, something rather large, and very green. Not to mention extremely smelly. Barrels into him at speed.
Palvarc, even with his barrier spell he has up around himself. Is knocked off his feet. And he hits the ground.
The dark druid instantly recognises that it's the ork creature that's attacking him.
Which he finds astonishing, is that it knows to repeatedly hit a magical barrier to get rid of it. Which it's doing to great effect. As baron Harkonin's advisor feels his spell quickly depleting.
"Get some!" growls Dorc da Orc as he jumps upon the invisible spellcaster on the ground. The large ork, who has fought practitioners of magic many times in his past.
Knows exactly what to do against them if they've got wards up around themselves.
The ork warleader who feels the indivisible spellcaster beneath him. Slams his head down at him, while smashing his axe into the side of the invisible dark druid who he's on top of.
Dorkindle who out of the corner of his left eye, spots sir Percavelle Lé Dic hurrying around from the two tents the heavily armoured knight was crouching behind.
Drives his forehead down at the invisible spellcaster who is beneath him.
Then all of a sudden, something whacks into the chest of the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Then he finds himself tumbling upwards, and backwards through the air. The large ork goes straight up nearly thirty feet into the air.
And he goes backwards almost as far, before he clips one of the tents here in this part of the Harkonin camp. And he smashes into the ground with a thud.
The ork weaponsmith lies there for a moment, then he groans as he tries to move. The warleader of the ork race is rather thankful for the plate of dark, almost black natural dragon armour that he wears over his chest, and much of his rather ample belly.
He's also thankful for hitting the soft ground of the tourney field. Compared to the cobblestone courtyard he fell onto after being flung from the south wall parapet of castle Lé Dic just a little earlier this afternoon. It's like falling onto a soft down pillow.
Palvarc the dark druid takes a deep breath, and goes to sit up. When all of a sudden, the invisible spellcaster hears something to his right.
The advisor to baron Harkonin goes to look that way, when he suddenly finds himself going tumbling across the ground at speed. He goes nearly forty feet, and crashes through a tent, before he finally comes to a stop.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east groans, as he drops his invisibility spell. And recasts his barrier spell which fell apart as he went tumbling through the tent.
"Got that evil doer" murmurs sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he stands there looking in the direction he's sure he hit with the sword of knockdown, baron Harkonin's advisor, the dark druid Palvarc.
The heavily armoured knight who saw Dorc da Orc on the ground battering away at something invisible beneath him. Knew the large ork was on top of the spellcaster from the Harkonin fief.
And after the ork warleader went flying backwards away through the air. The former earl of Lé Dic ran forward and hit where he thought the invisible dark druid was lying on the ground.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che looks quickly away to his right, and amongst a crumpled tent, he sees the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, sitting up, shaking his head.
Then the nobleborn knight, with his magical shield held out infront of him. Moves forward, to where he sent the invisible spellcaster tumbling across the ground.
The former paladin who walks in a crouch, so that the footman's shield obscures him as much as possible. Pops his helmed head over the rim of the shield of Saint Mar-che.
And looks at the tent that crumpled after he struck baron Harkonin's advisor.
The ordered knight narrows his eyelids as he spots movement beyond the downed tent. It's the dark druid Palvarc, who is rolling over, trying to get to his feet.
The spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east, winces as he rolls onto his stomach, and pushes himself up, and stumbles to his feet.
He looks back in the direction he came from, and pauses as he sees who it is that's stalking this way.
That fucking raving lunatic! Palvarc thinks to himself as he sees sir Percavelle Lé Dic walking this way.
The dark druid, who no longer invisible, eyes the shield the former earl of Lé Dic is holding out infront of himself, then at the small sword he's holding low to one side.
Both of which are magical, both of which, baron Harkonin's advisor is very wary of.
Palvarc who is bruised and battered knows not to attack the heavily armoured knight directly. For whatever he'll cast at the ordered knight, will come back at him faster, and more powerful than he casts it.
So the dark druid, who still holds his staff in hand. Slams the point of it into the ground infront of him, and unleashes some of the power it contains.
The ground splits infront of the spellcaster from the Harkonin fief. It goes out from him in a line, that widens as it goes towards the approaching nobleborn knight.
"Narille!" yelps the former paladin, who takes a quick couple of steps to his left, and jumps as the ground opens up beneath him.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly referred to by the rest of the group. Barely jumps clear of the ten foot wide, and over six foot deep cleft in the ground. That goes well over a hundred feet from where the dark druid stands, back to near the healers tent, that's well and truly on fire.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che who has jumped to the side of a tent that's partially collapsed as the earth was ripped apart.
Crouches and goes still. Keeping his magical shield out infront of himself, pointed in the direction he knows where baron Harkonin's advisor is.
Did i get him or not? Palvarc the dark druid thinks to himself, as he didn't see sir Percavelle fall into the ground where it's been ripped open.
He can still sense the magical shield of the former earl of Lé Dic, as well as the magical sword he has. Both are close to one another, but neither are moving.
"Hmmm" murmurs the spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east, who then murmurs "Now what about that other one" as he goes to look away to his left. When all of a sudden he hears a heavy tread, or step coming this way.
He's in the act of turning to his left, when he hears a shout, in a loud, and deep growling voice, say what he thinks is "Get some!".
And an unbelievable stench fills his nostrils, just before something smashes into his barrier spell he has up around himself.
He stumbles sideways, and falls to the ground with a frightened yelp of "Fuck!".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic is up and moving when he hears Dorc da Orc shout "Get some!". The former paladin runs around the partially collapsed tent. And runs to where he sees the large ork on top of the dark druid Palvarc. Smashing away at the wards baron Harkonin's advisor has up around himself.
The knight in the order of Saint Late
Mar-che has to leap over the trench in the ground to get to where they are.
And where the ripped up ground is slightly narrower, the heavily armoured knight leaps over it. And runs to where Dorc da Orc is smashing his head down at the spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east.
Palvarc has never experienced such a frenzied attack before. The ork creature is repeatedly slamming his head down at the dark druid, who is pinned beneath it's weight.
Baron Harkonin's advisor who feels his barrier spell rapidly weakening beneath the continued attack of the ork creature.
Turns his head to one side, for though his wards is protecting him at the moment. It can't do anything for the assault upon his sense of smell. As the big, burly ork on top of him, reeks beyond belief. Palvarc can't believe something could smell so bad.
As he turns his head, the dark druid spots the heavily armoured figure of sir Percavelle Lé Dic running this way.
Fuck! Palvarc thinks to himself as he knows that he's in trouble if he doesn't do something, and something fast too.
Clutching his staff to himself, the spellcaster from the Harkonin fief looks beyond the ork creature on top of him, and looks up into the afternoon sky. The next moment as his barrier spell gets weaker and weaker, he disappears.
Dorc da Orc grunts "Cunt" as he drops onto the ground as the dark druid disappears from beneath him.
"Where is he?" demands sir Percavelle Lé Dic who comes to a stop as the ork warleader gets up off the ground.
The ork weaponsmith sniffs a few times, then he looks up into the afternoon sky, and points "There's the fucken cunt".
The former paladin looks up into the clear sky above the enemy camp, and spots the figure of baron Harkonin's advisor, the dark druid Palvarc in the distance in the sky.
"Foul villain" mutters the former earl of Lé Dic as he and the warleader of the ork race look up at the spellcaster who is levitating about a thousand feet up in the sky.
As he floats in the afternoon sky, Palvarc looks down at the army camp below. The dark druid who has spotted baron Harkonin and those with him, at the western edge of the field where the camp is.
Also sees the two who have just attacked him near the middle of the camp. A large part of which, near the road, is now on fire.
The advisor to baron Harkonin looks down at sir Percavelle Lé Dic and the ork creature, who seem to be looking up at him.
Palvarc grins as he points the tip of his staff down at them. He's not going to make the same mistake again. He's not going to attack them directly, or at close range.
From a distance is the best way to deal to them, the spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east thinks to himself.
Who goes to unleash some of the power contained within his staff. When it suddenly gives him the feeling of a warning. A magical warning at that. Coming quickly from the west.
In mid air, the dark druid quickly looks in that direction, trying to see and sense, what his staff has warned him of . . . . . .

The Homecoming 141.

Within The Enemy Camp...

Sir Percavelle Lé Dic stops and looks back, and rolls his eyes as he sees that Dorc da Orc has run into the rather large tent to the left.
From within tent, the heavily armoured knight who is the former earl of the Lé Dic fief, can hear screams of terror from those who have the misfortune of being in it with the big, burly ork.
"Get some" growls Dorc da Orc who kicks over a camp bed with an enemy soldier on it. Then stomps on the head of another soldier from the Harkonin fief, who is lying on a stretcher, trying to move but is unable to.
The large ork from the southern polar region of the world, back hands one of the surgeons in the healers tent, who runs at him, swinging a sword with little skill.
There's an audible crack of the man's skull shattering when the ork warleader hits him, and he falls to the ground.
Dorkindle tips over another camp bed with a wounded Harkonin soldier on it. Kicks an injured messenger who is trying to crawl away.
Then grabs another wounded soldier, a more capable, and not so injured as the others, who swings an axe at the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
The big, burly ork chuckles after he headbutts the Harkonin soldier, shattering apart the front of the man's head.
Dorc da Orc flings the body away, picks up the discarded axe, and slams it down into the face of an enemy soldier who is trying to get up from the camp bed he's on.
The large ork who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, then stiff arms one of the tent poles as he continues on his way through it.
The section of the tent behind the warleader of the ork race collapses. Then he biffs the purloined axe, throwing it at a healer who is trying to escape, attempting to lift up a side of the large tent.
The axe slams into the back of the healer, propelling him forward, ripping the side of tent open, and sending him outside.
"See cunt, me just helps you outside" chuckles the big, burly ork who doesn't have to really duck down as he makes his way through the tent as it's so large.
Then Dorkindle who after stomping on the back of an an injured Harkonin soldier who is trying to crawl away with a broken leg. He spots what he's caught a whiff of.
"Oooohhhh" so says the ork weaponsmith in delight as he stops and picks up a clay jug of cleaning alcohol, the big, burly ork downs it in a few gulps. Makes a bit of a screwed up face as it's particularly strong, then he burps, and grins in satisfaction.
He tosses the jug away, tips over another camp bed with a petrified Harkonin soldier on it who can't move. And continues on his way through the large healers tent here in the heart of the enemy camp on the tourney field to the south of castle Lé Dic.
"Beast!" calls out sir Percavelle Lé Dic as another part of the large tent that Dorc da Orc is in, falls down upon itself.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che who is looking around for those they're searching for, in particular baron Raevar Harkonin, and the baron's advisor, the dark druid Palvarc.
Punches in the face a wounded enemy soldier who comes stumbling blindly out a side opening in the large tent.
"Take that you foul villain" declares the former paladin after dropping the blind Harkonin soldier, then kicking him in the side of the head with a steel boot, as he lies there helpless upon the ground.
The nobleborn knight who once ruled the Lé Dic fief then sourly smiles behind the faceplate of his full helm as he catches wind of the smell of smoke from within the large tent he's next to.
The former knight of the first class, who is probably the most well known ordered knight, not just here in the eastern region of Druvic, but the entire kingdom.
Rolls his eyes as he hears the all too familiar, growling and rumbling laughter of the ork warleader from within the large tent, which from the smell of it, the large ork has just set on fire.
After kicking over another brazier, Dorkindle grunts as an enemy soldier who is trying to flee, bumps into him, and drops to the ground.
The big, burly ork who hails from the bottom of the world, reaches down and picks up the dazed Harkonin soldier. And throws him on the camp bed that's just caught on fire. With another enemy soldier in it, who was unconscious and unable to move when the large ork tipped the lit brazier onto it.
Waving away smoke that's infront of his face, the ork weaponsmith from the southern polar region of the world looks around. Then after he kicks a crawling Harkonin soldier out of the way. He heads towards the side of the large tent.
Dorkindle bashes an enemy surgeon in the side of the head, who comes stumbling through the smoke towards him. Then the big burly ork runs into one of the tent poles, knocking it down as he heads to one side of the large tent.
As most of the healers tent collapses, sir Percavelle Lé Dic gets out of the way of it, and the large ork who comes charging out of the side of it, trailing smoke around and behind him, as it goes up in flames.
The former paladin looks quickly around trying to spot their quarry, who he knows is somewhere in the enemy camp that's been set up on the tournament field off to one side of the road, that's to the south of the massive castle that is his family's ancestral home.
The heavily armoured knight looks between some tents in the direction he and the ork warleader were heading until the large ork got distracted.
"Beast, where is that vile druid who serves that despot baron?" asks the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che as he looks back at the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
The big, burly ork from the very bottom of the world, grunts and looks around as he sniffs, waving away smoke that's coming from the large tent that's on fire.
Frowning as he looks around, the large ork sniffs, then growls and follows that up with "Fucken magics".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly referred to by the rest of the group. Quickly takes his shield from across his aback, and draws the sword of knockdown as he hurries behind a nearby tent.
The locally born nobleman waves for the big, burly ork to follow him. And for once the warleader of the ork race actually does.
"Which way?" quietly asks the former earl of Lé Dic, who screws up his face in disgust behind the visor of his full helm, as the large ork who is standing right beside him, stinks beyond belief.
The heavily armoured knight wants more of the smoke from the burning tent to blow this way to help mask the smell of the ork weaponsmith.
But unfortunately for him, the slight wind this afternoon is blowing in the other direction. Sending smoke and burning embers away across the camp back towards the road next to the tourney field where the Harkonin army have their camp.
Dorkindle pops his head up over the top of the tent they're behind. Then he ducks down quick, and quietly says "North" followed by "Me can't see the cunt" the warleader of the ork race then adds "There some other fucken Harky cunts going that way too".
The former paladin nods his full helmed head, and wonders if the spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east is invisible at the moment. He suspects so as he glances around one side of the tent.
Then the ordered knight, looks back at the large ork, who at seven and half foot tall, who when he stands upright, can see over most of the tents used by the enemy army.
And realising that the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks will make a far larger target than himself, not to mention another shield between him and the dark druid Palvarc.
He quietly tells the ork weaponsmith from the southern polar region of the world "Here beastie, you led the way to this dastardly druid".
The big, burly ork shrugs his massive shoulders, as he doesn't care if he's out infront or not.
Then he walks straight ahead, right into the tent they're standing behind. The large ork brings down the tent as he walks into the side of it.
Dorc da Orc takes an axe from the front of his weapon harness as he repeatedly sniffs the air. Not even the smoke from the nearby burning tent can hide the scent of the nearby spellcaster who has caught wind of.
The warleader of the ork race, more of less heads in a straight line to where he can smell the dark druid Palvarc, who seems to be coming back in this direction.
Behind the big, burly ork, the former knight of the first class follows fairly closely. And though Percy wants to hold his nose, as not to smell the large ork.
He grins and bares it, as he keeps fairly close to the weaponsmith who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks.
Dorkindle briefly halts after breathing in through his nose, then he turns right between two rows of tents. The big, burly ork crouches down a bit as he walks quickly between the tents.
While other tents, further back, on the otherside of the burning healers tent that's collapsed. Ignite into flames as fire starts to spread through the enemy's camp.
The warleader of the ork race, who can definitely smell the dark druid Palvarc close by. Sniffs as he walks, and soon locates the spellcaster who is the personal advisor to the ruler of the fief across the border to the east, baron Raevar Harkonin.
Dorc da Orc stops again, and looks back at the heavily armoured knight who has stopped behind him.
The big, burly ork grunts, then points with his axe, to where he can smell the dark, druid Palvarc "That way" mutters the ork weaponsmith, who then adds "The fucken asscunt".
The former paladin in the order of Saint Mar-che nods his full helmed head then quietly says "Lead on" to the large ork.
The big, burly ork grunts and continues on his way, keeping fairly low, at least beneath the height of the tents to either side of them.
Behind the warleader of the ork race, the nobleborn knight follows him closely. Keeping an eye out for any sign of baron Harkonin's advisor, the dark druid Palvarc.
Once again Dorkindle stops, though this time he growls as he slightly crouches behind a tent that has a wagon next to it.
Then all of a sudden the large ork, for someone so big, moves quickly off to one side, almost diving behind the tent to the right.
Without pause, sir Percavelle Lé Dic moves that way too. Diving to the right, to land on the ground next to the ork weaponsmith, behind that tent.
An instant later and the wagon explodes in a shower of wood and metal. Peppering the tent they were just behind.
Bits of wood ping off the heavy armour of the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che. While shards inbed themselves into the upper left arm, and left side of the big, broad, feral looking face of the warleader of the ork race.
After wiping blood and bits of wood off the side of his face, Dorkindle is up and moving. Followed closely by the former earl of Lé Dic.
The large ork who is moving his head slightly from side to side, as he listens as much as he sniffs. Comes to a stop behind another tent.
The heavily armoured knight stops behind him, and then nods his full helmed head, when the ork weaponsmith gestures with the axe he's holding, where exactly the invisible spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east is.
The big, burly ork who has been in the group longer than anyone else. When the group was just him and lord Farque. Gives a couple of hand signals to the nobleborn knight.
And though the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che only knows a few of the hand signals that the ork warleader, and the lord and ruler of the lands Farque use. He knows exactly what the large ork from the southern polar region of the world wants done.
Fine by me you smelly beast, Percy thinks to himself after quickly nodding his full helmed head in agreement to the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, the former paladin then silently adds, besides that doth put you in harms way more than i, wot.
Dorkindle narrows his eyelids as he crouches there behind one of the tents in the camp of the Harkonin army. A camp that's catching on fire closer to the road, here on the tourney field to the south of castle Lé Dic.
The big, burly ork who is listening as much as he's smelling their quarry. Can hear who assumes is the dark druid Palvarc. Moving slowly, and quietly, behind a row of tents, just twenty yards from where he and the former knight of the first class are.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, the matriarch who he killed, which led to his exile from the Ork Range at the very bottom of the world.
Hears and smells the unseen spellcaster from the Harkonin fief, turn in this direction.
The large ork glances back at sir Percavelle Lé Dic and nods, the heavily armoured knight nods in return, then moves.
After quickly glancing at the magical shield and magical sword the nobleborn knight has. A grin briefly appears on the broad, green, brutish looking face of the ork weaponsmith.
Dumb fucken knight cunt, you get me to go fucken first to set Dorc ups eh, the ork warleader thinks to himself, that large ork then silently adds, that magicky fuckhead is after you 'cause of that stupid fucken shield, and Dorc's sword you gots.
The ork weaponsmith looks back at the former earl of Lé Dic, who slips between a couple of nearby tents.
Then Dorkindle grins again as he hears and smells the nearby dark druid, stop again, then turn slightly, and start heading in the direction that the heavily armoured knight has gone.
Dorc da Orc as he crouches there behind one of the tents in the enemy camp, keeps absolutely still, holding his axe in his hands, while he waits for the invisible spellcaster to walk by where he is . . . . . .

The Homecoming 140.

Making It Up As They Go Along...

"Cunt, back here" says Dorc da Orc, sir Percavelle Lé Dic looks back at the large ork, and sees what he points at.
The heavily armoured knight nods his full helmed head, and with the long pole he's using. He reaches out to the body floating nearby, and prods it until it heads this way towards the raft they're on.
Scowling and making a face of utter disgust, the ork warleader reaches out and grabs the dead Harkonin soldier who is floating by them.
"Yucky" mutters the big, burly ork at getting wet as he lifts the body out of the water with one hand.
Then though he's still basically kneeling upon the raft, the ork weaponsmith hurls the body away to the left.
Throwing it well over fifteen feet, where it smashes into the enemy upon the closest raft. A raft that's half submerged, as there's so many of the baron Harkonin's soldiers and camp followers upon it.
"Drown ya cunts" mutters Dorkindle, while sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly referred to by the rest of the group. Whacks the end of the long pole across the head of one of the enemy soldiers who have just fallen into the water.
The former earl of Lé Dic then glances back at the ork warleader, who darts a look his way. As they both hear Riley Hait the mercenary ranger upon the south wall parapet of castle Lé Dic, call out to them with "You two idiots, get back here!".
"That ranger fellow must mean two other idiots wot" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic "Fucken must be" says Dorkindle with a shrug of his massive shoulders. Then the former paladin continues polling them to the otherside of the moat, while the warleader of the ork race, dips the board he's using, back into the water, and starts paddling again.
Continuing to ignore the shouts from the ranger Hait up on the battlements along the south wall of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for generations.
The heavily armoured knight gets near to the water's edge, and runs off the raft. Going through the shallow water at the edge of the moat, then up onto grassy bank beyond.
Behind him on the raft, the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world growls "Fucken dicknose" at the nobleborn knight for not actually getting the raft onto the slight bank.
With the board he's using, the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, sweeps it back through the water a couple more times to try and get the raft closer to the grassy bank.
He gives up as he splashes himself, illiciting an angry growl, and a muttered "Cunt water is fucken evils". Before he biffs the board away, in the direction of the nearest Harkonin soldiers upon the moat.
Then the large ork who sees the former paladin hurrying away towards the road, without waiting for him.
Gets to his feet, and takes a running leap off the raft. He grins then chuckles as he lands, without getting wet again.
Then ignoring the shouts from Riley Hait up above the main gates on the south side of castle Lé Dic.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, who yanks an arrow and bolt out of his left arm.
Sets off after the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, who is jogging up onto the road. The road that leads south from the massive castle, to the tourney field where the Harkonin army have their camp.
Percy encounters very few of the enemy, either soldiers or camp followers, as most of them are on the moat trying to climb to the top of the south wall of his family's home.
The nobleborn knight gets up onto the road, and comes to a brief stop as he picks up his large canvas bag, that has his swordbreaker and the flat, iron poinard like blade it in. That he left behind after he killed a number of the enemy nobility. Who lie dead, nearby on the road.
The uncle of lady Linara Lé Dic, shoulders the bag, and continues on his way along the road. Heading south to where the enemy have their camp on the field where the local tournaments are held.
Huffing and puffing as he runs towards the road, Dorc da Orc continually mutters to himself. Mostly about the parentage of sir Percavelle Lé Dic. Not to mention the early spring weather here in the east of the kingdom of Druvic. Which is far too warm for his liking.
After glaring up at the sun in the clear, mid afternoon sky, and calling it a fucking evil cunt, just like the water in the moat behind him.
The ork weaponsmith from the bottom of the world, runs up onto the road, and turns left, and heads south after the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che.
The former paladin, who scares away a couple of camp followers, who definitely don't want anything to do with him. Slows down as he approaches the badly damaged siege tower on the road.
The nobleborn knight who once ruled the Lé Dic fief, narrows his eyelids as he slows, and he draws the sword of knockdown off his left hip.
As he walks alongside the siege tower that was battered by the war machines, specifically the trebuchets within the south courtyard of castle Lé Dic.
The heavily armoured knight makes as much noise as possible. He then grins behind the faceplate of his full helm, as a moment later. An enemy soldier comes running around from the back of the damaged siege tower, swinging a sword.
Dorc da Orc looks ahead, grunts then mutters "Fucken show off". As he sees a Harkonin soldier go flying sideways, away from the damaged siege tower just up ahead.
The large ork sourly smiles as he sees the former earl of Lé Dic, look back at him, grin. Wave the sword of knockdown in salute to him. Then carry on towards the tourney field further to the south where the Harkonin army have their camp.
Then the warleader of the ork race grins, as he can easily hear in the distance back at castle Lé Dic. Riley Hait the mercenary ranger still yelling out from the parapet above the main gates on the south side of the massive castle. For him and the former paladin to return to castle Lé Dic.
Dorkindle chuckles, then murmurs "Neh, get fucked cunt" as he listens to the ranger Hait calling out to him and sir Percavelle Lé Dic, as the big, burly ork follows after the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che.
In the camp of the Harkonin army, the baron Raevar Harkonin frowns, then says "What did he just say?".
"I'm not too sure m'lord" says sir Haleníc, who nods for one of the baron's personal servants, to go and see what the soldier up the side of one of the trebuchets on the road just called out.
The head of the Harkonin family who is still a little sore from when he got caught up in the explosion from one of the dark druid Palvarc's spells backfiring.
Looks over at the young knight who is standing upon the chest nearby, who has just said "He's getting down".
"Who?" asks the nobleman who rules the fief across the border to the east, who has every intention of ruling the Lé Dic fief too, once he kills every member of the nobleborn family that's been the enemy of his family for generations.
"That fellow up the side of the trebuchet" is the reply from sir Haleníc, who then adds "He's in a hurry too".
Raevar Harkonin gets up from the camp chair he's been sitting and resting on, puts the goblet down he's been drinking from, and looks to the nearby road.
Where he too sees the soldier who was up the side of one of trebuchets, getting down it, fairly quickly. Once he's off it, and he's met by the servant who went to see what he last called out. They both look northwards in the directon of castle Lé Dic, then the next moment they're both heading this way, fast.
The head of the Harkonin family frowns as both the soldier and his servant shout out as they run back this way.
Then the baron mutters "Shit" while young Haleníc says "Hell!" when they both here what the returning soldier and servant are shouting.
"Move!" orders baron Harkonin to those soldiers and servants nearby. He looks quickly in the direction of the healers tent, that the unconscious dark druid is still in.
Then the head of the Harkonin family says to the teenage knight with him "Lets go" followed by "Through the camp, so we can try and lose them".
Young sir Haleníc nods, then he and the baron, along with some of soldiers, and personal servants, head off between the rows of tents, that have been put up on this field to the south of the massive castle that's been the home to the Lé Dic family for centuries.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic stops jogging , and slows to a walk, so that Dorc da Orc can catch up. For the simple reason he wants to use the large ork's unique abilities to locate who they're after.
The former paladin, who sees an enemy soldier and a camp follower, running away from a trebuchet in the middle of the road, to the nearby camp, that's predominantly on the tourney field on the west side of the road that leads south from castle Lé Dic.
Looks back, and watches the ork warleader jogging this way. The former knight of the first class wryly smiles behind the visor of his full helm as he sees the big, burly ork huffing and puffing as he jogs in the warm, mid afternoon sun on this clear, and fine, early spring day.
Coming to a stop, Dorc da Orc asks the nobleborn knight "Why you fucken stop?".
"Where is he?" asks Percy, who follows that with "The baron".
The ork warleader grunts, then says "Me don't fucken know" as he doesn't exactly know the scent of the nobleman who rules the fief across the border to the east.
But Dorkindle does know the scent of someone else in the army of baron Harkonin. For the simple reason this person knocked him off the south wall parapet of castle Lé Dic a little earlier this afternoon.
The big, burly ork who knows the scent of that person, points to the enemy camp on the field off to the west of the road.
"But that fucken magicky cunt is there" adds the ork weaponsmith who after a couple of deep sniffs, adds "He fucken moving too".
The former earl of Lé Dic, who is just as happy killing the dark druid Palvarc, as he is in killing baron Harkonin.
Nods his full helmed head, then says to the big, burly ork who rather pongs as he stands there behind him "Right then beast, let us be off after that wicked druid who doth advise that nincompoop the baron".
The ork weaponsmith just grunts to that, then follows after the former paladin. Who heads off the road, and hurries down onto the tourney field where the Harkonin army has made camp.
Following the directions of the large ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world.
The former earl of Lé Dic leads the big, burly ork into the Harkonin army camp, and between the rows of tents.
Dorkindle briefly stops when he eyes something. He picks up and drains some wine from a goblet on a small camp table infront of a tent. Then he picks up a nearby bottle, and downs that too.
"Hurry beast" says the former earl of Lé Dic who stops as he realises the large ork isn't right behind him.
The warleader of the ork race tosses the bottle away, and nods in the direction to go, and says "Fucken that way cunt".
The heavily armoured knight nods, and sets off through the rows of tents, followed by the big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world.
"Hurry" admonishes baron Harkonin to those carrying the stretcher that has the unconscious dark druid Palvarc on it, whom they've gathered from the surgeons and healers tent.
"And keep low" hurriedly adds sir Haleníc in a quiet tone, the young noble from the fief across the border to the east, continues with "That creature is big, and might be able to see us over the tents".
The baron nods as he follows one of his personal guards through the rows of tents in their camp.
While another of the soldiers with them, who is at the rear, keeps glancing back in the direction they've come from as they now hear shouts and screams coming from the directon of the large tent they took the baron's advisor from.
"He's waking" says one of the servants carrying the stretcher with the unconscious spellcaster on it.
The head of the Harkonin family looks at the dark druid, and sees that his advisor is stirring.
Raevar Harkonin as he walks quickly beside those carrying the stretcher, shakes the left shoulder of his advisor and says "Palvarc wake up".
After shaking the dark druid's shoulder once more, the baron says "Palvarc, you awake?".
He's answered with a slight groan, followed by a muttered "Yes" from Palvarc the dark druid who opens his eyes and looks around.
Seeing that he's being carried on a stretcher through the camp, the baron's advisor looks up at the nobleman who rules the fief across the border to the east, and says "What's happening?".
"We're in trouble, that's what's happening" quietly says baron Harkonin, as they hear a roar from somewhere behind them in the camp.
Palvarc, who is comforted that he's holding his staff, slightly grimaces then says "Stop" followed by "Help me up".
The stretcher is put down, and two of the baron's servants, along with the baron help the dark druid to stand.
Who though a little unsteady on his feet at first, steps away from those who helped him to stand, and says to baron Harkonin "Let us deal to this menace once and for all then" . . . . . .

The Homecoming 139.

A Conspiracy Of Idiots...

Up on the south wall parapet of castle Lé Dic, the former earl of Lé Dic smashes the shield of Saint Mar-che into the face of a Harkonin soldier that's just popped up over the top of the wall.
"That's it men, give it the old heave, ho" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a cheerful manner, as he encourages a couple of townsmen, a castle servant, and a soldier in his niece's army. To shove away the enemy scaling ladder with the pair of polearms they've got.
The heavily armoured knight then looks down into the south courtyard of his family's castle. Where he sees the large form of the ork warleader, Dorc da Orc near one of the war machines.
The big, burly ork, who has a dead Harkonin soldier slung over each shoulder. And has another two tucked under his right arm, and another under his left.
Is talking to Tovis the war engineer, nodding at the catapult the two of them are standing next to.
The former paladin sees the ork weaponsmith dart a glance up his way on the battlements, before resuming his conversation with the young man, who until recently was baron Harkonin's war engineer.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che looks quickly to the west along the parapet. To where Riley Hait the mercenary ranger is above the gates, here on the south side of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
"Lé Dic!" shouts out the heavily armoured knight by way of encouragement to the defenders along the battlements. He also shouts it out to make his presence known.
The former knight of the first class grins behind the faceplate of his full helm, as quite a few of the soldiers, castle servants and townsfolk along the south wall parapet shout out his family's name in return.
Above the south gates of castle Lé Dic, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger who has just helped load the one ballista that's operating at the moment, sees one of the ballista crew looking up in the sky to their left.
The ranger Hait looks up too, and blinks as he sees a couple of bodies go flying across the moat, to hit the edge of it. Narrowly missing a raft, that's being poled across the water to the south wall of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for centuries.
The mercenary ranger who hails from the elven principality of Envadarlen, looks back and down into the courtyard.
Then rolls his eyes as he sees one of the catapults being reloaded, with dead bodies.
Riley Hait who sees Dorc da Orc talking to Tovis the war engineer next to the catapult.
Looks closely to make sure that the bodies being put into the cup of the war machine are enemy soldiers.
He sees that they are, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Then he sourly smiles as he sees the ork warleader who is grinning from ear to ear, gesture towards the base of the wall.
And a few moments later, a couple of castle servants near the war machine, go that way, with a stretcher they're carrying. To collect more of the dead enemy, who have fallen off the battlements along the south wall of castle Lé Dic.
The mercenary ranger who in actual fact 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 Riley Hait.
Turns back around to look at the enemy, as the ballista shoots off the ten foot long, heavy spear that's just been loaded into it.
While further along the parapet to his left, Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman once again hears the shout of "Lé Dic!" come from many of the defenders on the south wall of the massive castle.
Looking up to the battlements, Dorc da Orc sees sir Percavelle Lé Dic looking back down at him. And though the large ork is scowling as the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che looks at him.
The warleader of the ork race nods to the former earl of Lé Dic, who quickly nods his full helmed head in return.
"Keep shooting more of them Harky cunts over the wall" says Dorc da Orc to Tovis the war engineer.
The ork weaponsmith who noticed that some of the war machines were getting low on shots to fling over the south wall of castle Lé Dic. Came up with a ready supply of loads for the catapults and trebuchets in the south courtyard. Dead Harkonin soldiers. As there's plenty of them, who have either been knocked off the battlements. Or rolled off after being killed up on the parapet.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, then tells the young engineer from the fief across the border to the east "Me just go and get some fucken more of them" as he gives a rather vague gesture towards the south wall of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the nobleborn Lé Dic family.
The big, burly ork sets off towards the south wall, not straight to it, but more of an angle, heading to the south gates of castle Lé Dic, to be exact, just to the side of it.
As he does, Dorkindle hears the shouts of "Lé Dic!" from up on the parapet.
And though he's got a scowl upon his broad, green, brutish looking face when he hears that.
He darts a quick look towards one of the set of steps that come down from the battlements along the south side of castle Lé Dic.
On it, he sees sir Percavelle Lé Dic hurrying down them to the courtyard. The nobleborn knight is rushing down the steps without a care in the world. As he just wants to get down to the courtyard as quickly as possible.
The warleader of the ork race grunts as the former paladin jumps down the last few steps to the courtyard, and turn quickly in this direction, and heads along the base of the wall.
As he does, he looks up at the parapet above, to above the south gates. Which Dorc da Orc does too.
The two of them look up to see what Riley Hait the mercenary ranger is doing.
And though the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che can't exactly see the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, can see the ranger Hait. Who has his back to the courtyard, as he's preoccupied with the enemy attacking the south side of castle Lé Dic.
Dorkindle looks over at the heavily armoured knight and nods. Then the large ork hurries into the tunnel in the wall, about forty feet from the gates on the south side of the massive castle.
A few moments later and the former earl of Lé Dic rushes into the tunnel too. The tunnel that goes through the wall to the sally port just off to the side of the main gates here in the south wall of castle Lé Dic.
"Hurry you filthy demon" demands the former paladin as he catches up to the large ork, who just grunts, then mutters "Fuck up ya cunt" as they head through the tunnel.
Dorkindle grunts again, and moves aside as they get near to the portal.
Seeing why, sir Percavelle Lé Dic says "Righto chaps, open it up" followed by "The beast here, and myself are going out there again to give those Harkonin filth another thrashing".
The trio of soldiers who man the sally port, who have only opened it the once so far in the battle. And that was only at the orders of the mercenary ranger, Riley Hait who is in command of the defence of this side of the massive castle. And that was to let both sir Percavelle Lé Dic, and Dorc da Orc in.
All glance at one another, and though they know they should only open it again from an order above, from the ranger Hait.
They can't deny their former earl, who is the uncle of the young girl, who now rules the Lé Dic fief.
"Just a smidgen now" says the former knight of the first class as he takes a helbard from a weapons rack along one side of the tunnel.
"Don't want any of those rapscallion Harkonin blighters knowing what we're up to wot" adds the nobleman who is both a landed, and an ordered knight.
Then once the trio of soldiers have got the braces off the back of the sally port, and two of them swing it slightly open.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic peeks out to one side through the slightly ajar portal. While towering behind him, Dorc da Orc whose head is below the ceiling of the tunnel, hisses in anger at the sight of the water at the base of the wall, on this side of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for centuries.
"Hmmmm" murmurs the former earl of Lé Dic, who then pops his head back, and looks at the helbard in his hands, then he frowns.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che looks back at the rather smelly ork weaponsmith behind him, and quietly, well quiet for the nobleborn knight at least, tells the big, burly ork "Beast you will have to do it".
The heavily armoured knight continues with "Tis a bit far for me" sir Percavelle, or Percy as the rest of the group more commonly refer to him by, then says "You and your ape like arms should be able to reach".
The former paladin steps aside, and hands the helbard to the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks. And as the trio of soldiers in the Lé Dic army move quickly out of the way. The big, burly ork from the bottom of the world, steps cautiously forward.
Scowling, not to mention growling at the water that's less than a foot away. Dorc da Orc peeks out the slightly ajar sally port.
After a few moments, the ork warleader grunts, and pushes the portal open a bit more, sniffing as he does so.
Behind the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, the former knight of the first class, who would like nothing better, for the large ork to fall into the moat. For the simple reason he stinks so much. Which isn't helped as they're in a near enclosed tunnel within the south wall of castle Lé Dic.
Says to the ork weaponsmith "Careful beast, try not to damage it" the former earl of Lé Dic then murmurs "I do not fancy taking an unexpected dunking, nor do i suspect, do you".
After sourly smiling, and grunting in reply to the heavily armoured knight behind him. Dorkindle slips the helbard out through the slightly ajar sally port.
With his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, and one eye closed as he concentrates, the big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world.
Then starts grunting as he tries to snag with the helbard, an enemy raft that's to one side of the sally port.
The warleader of the ork race slaps the water with the head of the helbard. But on his second attempt, he's able to snag the floating raft, as the small axehead of the long weapon slams down into the wooden raft on the moat at the base of the south wall of the massive castle, that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
Dorc da Orc grunts as he hauls the raft this way, knocking down those who are on it. Some of them end up in the water, as does the ladder they've been holding up against the south wall of castle Lé Dic.
The former paladin pushes the portal open further, and says to the trio of the soldiers who have been here in the tunnel, manning the sally port all day, every since the battle for the massive castle began in the morning.
"Close it up good and proper once we've gone through lads" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who sees the raft come into view, and tells the big, burly ork "Out of the way now beast".
The large ork scowls at the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, though he does move out of the way, still keeping a hold of the helbard, the small axehead of which, is still wedged into the raft that Dorkindle is pulling infront of the sally port, on this side of the massive castle.
The former earl of Lé Dic leaps out from the portal that's open in the south wall of castle Lé Dic. And he lands upon the raft that's been hauled to infront of the sally port.
After the nobleborn knight knees one of the remaining enemy soldiers on the raft, in the face as he tries to stand up.
The former knight of the first class, turns to the wall, and backs up to the far end of the raft, shoving into the water an enemy soldier who is trying to keep his balance on the edge of the raft.
Dorkindle with the helbard in hand, leaps out of the portal, to the waiting raft that the heavily armoured knight is already on.
The former paladin winces, while he couches down at the end of the raft. And though he holds his breath in anticipation at the thought of the big, burly ork sinking the raft.
It only goes up in the air a foot or so at the end where Percy is crouched when the ork weaponsmith lands on it, before it drops back flat.
With Dorkindle as he lies there, sprawled out, growling and muttering in the incomprehensible language of the orks at splashing water on himself when he landed on the raft.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic has picked up the long pole lying on the raft, turned and put it into the water, and starts polling them across to the otherside of the moat.
Looking back at the ork warleader who is sprawled on the raft, the former earl of Lé Dic tells him "Hurry up and push us along you smelly green demon".
"Fuck up cockface" growls Dorc da Orc, who then grunts and says "And you fuck off as well" as he punches a Harkonin soldier in the face who is trying to clamber onboard the raft.
The large ork who is still holding the helbard, gets to his hands and knees. Then flings the long weapon away to the left, where is smacks into the enemy on another of the makeshift rafts on the moat on this side of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world, then picks up one of the wooden boards used as a paddle.
And carefully sticking his left arm out over the edge of the raft, he dips the board into the water, and starts padding. Helping the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che to get the raft across the moat.
As out of the corner of his left eye, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger sees another couple of dead Harkonin soldiers going flying over the top of the wall, shot from one of the catapults down in the south courtyard of castle Lé Dic.
The soldier next to the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen says "Ah sir". "What is it?" asks Riley Hait the mercenary ranger.
The soldier in lady Linara Lé Dic's army nods down to the moat below them and says "Down there to the right".
Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson looks down to where the soldier has nodded, then he mutters "Shit" at what he sees.
How the fuck did they get down there? the ranger Hait thinks to himself, who immediately figures out that the two on the raft he's watching, the heavily armoured knight, and the large ork, must of gone out the sally port to the side of the main gates here on the south side of castle Lé Dic.
"Fucking idiots" Riley Hait mutters under his breath, who then looks beyond the moat, to the rear of the Harkonin army, down in the tourney field to the south of castle Lé Dic, where the enemy have their camp.
The mercenary ranger who is in command of the defence of the south side of the massive castle, and by default all of castle Lé Dic.
Then looks quickly back down at the raft on the water that sir Percavelle Lé Dic and Dorc da Orc are polling to the otherside of the moat.
"Oh shit" murmurs the ranger Hait as he has pretty good idea where the two of them are going, as he looks back to the enemy camp on the tourney field to the south . . . . . .

The Homecoming 138.

Close Calls...

On the battlements along the south wall of castle Lé Dic. Riley Hait the mercenary ranger finds himself in the midst of some heavy fighting as he makes his way eastwards along the parapet where the enemy have gained another foothold.
The mercenary ranger who hails from the elven principality of Envadarlen, pulls a townsman out of harms way. And slams one of his long daggers into the side of the neck of one of the enemy.
The ranger Hait who doesn't even have the time to cover the lower half of his face with the black cloth that's wrapped around his throat and neck.
Shoves the dying Harkonin soldier off the parapet, sending him to the courtyard below. The less of the enemy, living or dead upon the parapet, the better.
The mercenary ranger who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who due to circumstances beyond his control, happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Riley Hait.
Ducks beneath an axe swung at him, then drives one of his long daggers up into the groin of the Harkonin soldier who just tried to chop his head off.
The mercenary ranger pushes that enemy soldier backwards, sending him toppling off the top of the wall, screaming as he falls to the moat on the otherside of the wall.
Looking ahead, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger mutters "Fuck" and he quickly drops to the parapet. Narrowly avoiding a Harkonin soldier who comes flying backwards at him, passing overhead, before tumbling to a stop.
With a sour looking smile upon his face, Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman stands back up. And nods, as further along the parapet, sir Percavelle Lé Dic calls out to him "Awfully sorry about that old chap, didn't see you there wot!".
Then the human ranger who was brought up and trained by some of the elven warders of Envadarlen, shakes his head, as further behind the former earl of Lé Dic. He spots the large form of Dorc da Orc stomping his way along the parapet, heading this way.
The ranger Hait wonders if the ork warleader and the heavily armoured knight are going to be fighting each other, as much as the enemy.
After all they have done so in the past since the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che joined the group.
And only the presence of lord Farque has kept them from trying to kill each other.
But with the battle for castle Lé Dic going since the morning, and now it's approaching mid afternoon. The two members of the group who dislike one another. Who for them, have been fairly civil to one another so far today.
Things could quickly change, if one or the other tries something that could be construed as an attack against the other.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic who kicks an enemy soldier between the legs, then slams the shield of Saint Mar-che into the face of the Harkonin soldier, sending him off the back of the parapet, to fall to the courtyard below.
Rolls his eyes, and sourly smiles behind the faceplate of his full helm, as he smells a god awful stench coming towards him from behind.
He then hears the heavy stomps, and the grunts that usually accompany the familiar stench.
"Quack!" shouts Dorc da Orc like an oversized duck, as he swings the axe he's got in his right hand.
"Narille!" yelps the former earl of Lé Dic who immediately knows what that means, and he ducks down, and narrowly avoids the heavy ork axe that would of easily chopped his head off, helm and all.
The axe slams into a Harkonin soldier who has just hauled himself up onto the top of the wall.
The axe sheers through the body of the enemy soldier, chopping him in half just above the waist as the ork warleader yells "Get some!".
The top half of the Harkonin soldier falls away to the moat below, followed a moment later by the waist and legs.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic spins around, and holds the shield of Saint Mar-che out infront of him, bracing himself as he clutches the sword of knockdown in his right gauntleted hand.
Behind the visor of his full helm, the former paladin scowls as he looks up at the large ork who towers over him.
As for the ork weaponsmith, he stands there scowling down at the heavily armoured knight. Keeping a careful watch upon the magical sword in the right hand of sir Percavelle Lé Dic, a sword that was once his.
"You wanna go cunt?" asks Dorc da Orc "We can fucken do this now if you wants" adds the warleader of the ork race, who truth be told, doesn't really care who he kills, just as long as he gets to kill someone.
The two of them, the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, and the former earl of Lé Dic.
Are cautious of one another. For the simple reason that sir Percavelle or Percy as he more commonly referred to by the rest of the group. Has his magical sword and magical shield.
While Dorkindle, who is so physically overwhelming, and incredibly strong. And wears a plate of armour from a dead dragon. Could easily kill one another if they got lucky.
In the years before the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che joined the group. They repeatedly tried to kill one another whenever they ran across one another.
It's not from a lack of trying that they haven't been successful. It's just plain luck, and a fair bit of utter stupidity from both of them, that they weren't able to kill one another.
Now as they're upon the south wall parapet of the massive castle that's been the home of sir Percavelle's family for centuries. Facing one another, there's a slight pause as they both think. Momentarily think, since neither one does a lot of thinking in general. What they'll do.
The pause is interrupted by a Harkonin soldier who gains the top of the wall right next to the two of them.
"Get some!" shouts the large ork as he swings his axe at the same time the former knight of the first class yells "Lé Dic!" as he stabs the sword of knockdown.
The heavy axe slams down into the head of the enemy soldier who is trying to stand up onto the top of the wall. The axe goes down through the chest, almost down to the navel of the Harkonin soldier, almost splitting him in twain.
Just then the point of the sword of knockdown touches the enemy soldier in the lower guts. And he goes flying backwards away from the battlements.
There's a slight pause, then Dorc da Orc burst into laughter as the enemy soldier goes back a good thirty feet in the air, continuing to split, before he drops to the moat below.
He's completely split down the middle when the two parts, the left and right parts of his body hit the moat just short of the waters edge.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic guffaws as well when the enemy soldier, hits the water in two parts. Then the heavily armoured knight and the ork weaponsmith turn and look at one another. Both scowling again as they see what one or the other will do.
Their standoff upon the south wall parapet of castle Lé Dic is interrupted by "Dorc, Percy shove that fucking ladder off the wall!" from Riley Hait the mercenary ranger who calls out from further along the battlements.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che sourly smiles, while the ork weaponsmith grunts in a dissatisfied tone. The nobleborn knight picks up a discarded polearm. And puts it to the top of the enemy scaling ladder that's infront of them, and pushes.
After a few moments, Dorkindle grabs the back half of the polearm, and pushes as well.
With the enormous strength of the big, burly ork added to the efforts of the former paladin, they easily push the scaling ladder away from the face of the south wall of castle Lé Dic,
The two Harkonin soldiers climbing up it, fall off before it crashes down into the water.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic quickly lets go of the polearm just incase the large ork behind him, gets it in his head to push him off the top of the wall too.
From the disappointed grunt he hears from the ork warleader behind him, that's exactly what the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks was exactly thinking.
Letting go of the polearm, and as the heavily armoured knight moves to one side. The large ork picks up a dead enemy soldier, looks over the top of the wall, and throws the body down at the raft below, that had the ladder they just pushed off, on it.
Dorc da Orc then looks across to the otherside of the moat, sniffing as he does so, and says to himself more than anything "Where that fucken magicky cunt that gots me?".
Knowing who exactly the ork warleader means, the former knight of the first class, who doesn't particularly want to tell the big, burly ork anything, decides to tell him "There be villains you seek beast".
The weaponsmith from the southern polar region of the world glances at the nobleborn knight beside him, who gestures towards the enemy camp to the rear.
"That foul druid Palvarc returned, it was he who smite you with his dastardly spellcraft" says the uncle of lady Linara Lé Dic "He and that poor excuse for a baron he advises, badly i may add" continues the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, who then tells the warleader of the ork race "Fled to their camp yonder, after a certain mishap which caused their near destruction when that evil doer did try to smite me with his staff of devilry".
Dorkindle shakes his head, and mutters in his native language "Fucken windbag" as he looks at the former earl of Lé Dic, he then glances down at the large skull of his mother tied to his belt, as he silently adds, the silly cunt yaks as fucken much as you do.
'Piss off, i don't rattle on as much as that fucking idiot knight, you fat fucking cunt' Dorc da Orc thinks to himself, who then scowls at the skull tied to his belt, then mutters in the ork language "Ah fuck up ya nasty whore, me wasn't fucken takin' to you". Which infact, he actually was doing. Not that he'd admit it to anyone, especially to himself.
The large ork grunts as he looks to the enemy camp, that's on the tourney field to the south of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for generations.
The ork weaponsmith then glances at the nobleborn knight, who walks away, heading in the direction of the very center of the parapet along this side of castle Lé Dic. To above the main gates in the south wall of the massive castle. Which Riley Hait the mercenary ranger is walking back to, after fighting his way along the parapet in this direction.
The big, burly ork with one last look in the direction of the enemy camp, sets off after the former earl of Lé Dic.
There's a deep looking scowl upon the broad, green, brutish looking face of the ork warleader as he sets off after the former knight of the first class.
The mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen who is in command of the defence along this side of castle Lé Dic. Looks back along the battlements, in the direction he's walked from.
The ranger Hait sees that sir Percavelle Lé Dic is heading this way along the parapet, followed by Dorc da Orc.
The two of them, the former earl of Lé Dic, and the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks. Are cutting down any of the enemy in their path as they head this way.
Well, they aren't exactly cutting them down. They're actually sending them flying off the battlements.
Either with Percy hitting them with his sword of knockdown, and using the shield of Saint Mar-che to batter the enemy off the top of the south wall of castle Lé Dic.
Or with Dorkindle, grabbing any Harkonin soldier the heavily armoured knight infront of him misses.
The big, burly ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world, just biffs the enemy soldiers off the wall he grabs.
Sometimes down to the south courtyard, but usually over to the moat. Hoping to hit any of the Harkonin soldiers and camp followers down on the water.
And the fact that he sees getting wet, is far more hazardous than hitting the cobblestones nearly fifty feet down, in the courtyard below.
If he was going off the battlements, he'd rather hit the courtyard again, than hit the water in the moat, that's for sure.
Riley Hait the mercenary ranger, who is just to the left of the very center of the parapet along the south side of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
Is soon joined by the former earl of that family's fief. A few moments later and the warleader of the ork race joins them.
"That incompetent, and inbred baron, along with his pet druid, who has returned" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic to Riley Hait "Are yonder in that piss pot, ramshackle camp of their's" adds the former paladin, who continues with "Ran off after that evil doer Palvarc tried his magics upon me, and failed miserably".
"I know" says the ranger Hait, who glances at the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che first, then at the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, who as usual, is making himself an easy target for those of the enemy with bows and crossbows.
"What shall we do then?" asks Percy who then adds "About the threat of that heathen druid?". It's exactly what Dorkindle is thinking too. Though no way would be of phrased it like the former knight of the first class just did.
"We wait" is the reply from Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman as he looks to the enemy camp where baron Harkonin and his advisor, the dark druid Palvarc are.
Not exactly satisfied with the answer from the mercenary ranger who hails from the elven principality of Envadarlen.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic glances up at Dorc da Orc, who isn't exactly pleased with the answer from the ranger Hait too. Though the scowl on his big, broad, green, feral looking face is directed at the former paladin as much as at what Riley Hait just said.
The large ork grunts, then slightly nods to the heavily armoured knight, then looks to the enemy camp on the tourney field to the south.
The former earl of Lé Dic looks that way as well, as the two of them have exactly the same idea in their heads . . . . . .