The Homecoming 123.

Fight!...

Shur Kee the monk looks down at the crashed airship towards the base of the hill he's on. And he spots movement, not much. But at least some of those who were onboard the Druvician aircorp warship when it crashed, survived.
The short, statured monk whose shard of jade, he wears on a fine silver chain around his neck, is glowing green.
Looks up into the clear sky, and spots the pair of ship's boats that were able to be launched from the doomed frigate, that he knows Helbe the elven thief brought down.
The acolyte in the order of Bru Li then looks out across the fields on the farmland to the west and south of the hill he's on.
And in the distance, he spots a figure out in one of the fields. Who seems to be looking around.
The monk, who is a physical adept. That being someone who is able to use his body as a deadly weapon. Wonders if that person out on one of the fields, is the dark druid Palvarc. Or another spellcaster who was on the warship, who was able to get off it before it crashed.
Then the monk, who wears an odd, conical shaped hat. Looks quickly to his right, and he spots two people walking up the side of the hill towards him.
One is in a uniform of some kind. Obviously a member of the crew of the downed airship. He holds a shortsword in his right hand.
While the other, is a man in his middle years, slightly grey, who is in black robes. Who carries a wooden staff, a staff, that has a gnarled, fist sized top to it.
The short, statured monk who hails from the kingdom of Wah Lee, which is far beyond the Southlands, on the far eastern coast of the continent.
Hasn't seen the man in the black robes up close before. Only at a distance. Even so, he knows who it is. The advisor to baron Harkonin, the dark druid Palvarc.
With his left foot out infront of him, and his right slightly to the side. With his hands almost cupped together, down by his right hip. Shur Kee the monk thrusts his hands forward and out infront of him, as he shouts "Bru Li spirit!".
The first mate of the downed frigate, lifts an eyebrow as he sees a slight, shimmering blue glow around himself. Then he nods when the dark druid Palvarc murmurs to him "Protection spell".
The dark druid who is the advisor of baron Harkonin, frowns as the short fellow at the top of the hill, who is wearing the strangest looking hat he's ever seen.
Turns their way, and steps his left foot forward, and puts his hands down by his side, then thrusts them forward shouting something.
What? Palvarc the dark druid thinks to himself as he didn't quite catch what the individual in the strange, white clothing just shouted.
Then the spellcaster who is the advisor to baron Harkonin blinks in surprise. When a ball, of what appears to be white energy. Exactly the same that came up from the hilltop, towards the airship before it crashed.
Suddenly appears infront of the short, individual wearing the odd looking hat.
The dark druid doesn't know what it is. Just that it isn't magical. As he can't sense it. Nor did his staff give him any warning about it.
All the same, he doesn't want to find out what it can do, even with the protection and barrier spells he has up around himself, as it shoots towards him and the first mate from the downed frigate, that's part of the personal fleet of the lord high constable of the kingdom of Druvic.
"Watch out!" shouts Palvarc in warning to the officer from the destroyed warship.
The dark druid dives to one side, pretty agile for a man in his mid forties. The first mate from the frigate, waits a moment. Then he dives the other way.
And though baron Harkonin's advisor gets out of the way of the nearly nine foot wide ball, of what looks like some kind of energy.
The officer from the downed airship, almost does. But not quite. As his left boot is clipped by it. As it goes off the side of the hill, into the air.
The first mate from the frigate, who is part of the cadre of those who follow the old ways, in particular the ways of the dark druids. Who are trying to spread their beliefs, and practices, throughout the kingdom of Druvic.
Screams in pain, as his left leg is wrenched back behind him in mid dive. Then he goes spinning backwards through the air. Tumbling and cartwheeling a good forty feet, back down the side of the hill, before finally coming to a stop.
"Fuck" mutters the dark druid Palvarc as he looks back and watches the first mate from the downed warship, disappear back down the side of the hill.
Baron Harkonin's advisor winces, as he had both a protection and barrier spell around the ship's officer. Just like he's got around himself. And they failed against whatever the white ball of energy is, that hit the first mate from the destroyed airship.
The dark druid, from where he is on the ground, points his staff at the figure in white, wearing the odd shaped hat.
And as he's just about to unleash a particular nasty spell at the short individual just fifty feet away from him.
His staff warns him of a spellcaster, and of spellcraft. Just then the figure in the strange white clothes, and the even stranger hat, disappears.
After shifting to Shur Kee the monk, and quickly shifting away with him. Helbe the elven thief says to the physical adept "We've got to hit him and run" as they float in the sky, a couple hundred yards up in the air. And about that far from the hill, that the physical adept was just standing on.
As the young elven noble glances back, and spots the two ship's boats dropping down to where the downed warship lies at the base of the hill.
Shur Kee the monk, who is still in a meditative state, when he's the conduit for the power of the Jade Warrior, Bru Li. The founder of the philosophical order he's a member of.
Is perfectly at ease floating in the sky, a couple of hundred yards up.
The short, statured monk nods his head in understanding, and does so again, when the elven magic user tells him "I might not be able to save you all the time" followed by "You'll have to use your power to protect yourself against any spells he does against you".
"Do no fear, friend Helbe" says Shur Kee who speaks slowly when he's in a meditative trance, whilst not in combat.
The next moment, the two of them, who are both blurred, are in another spot in the sky, as the elven masterthief shifts them away again.
Just where they were, a black and green, beam of energy passes through. It comes up from the hilltop the acolyte in the order of Bru Li was standing on.
It comes from one end of the staff, in the hands of the dark druid, Palvarc. The advisor to baron Harkonin.
"I can protect myself against magic if need be" adds the physical adept with barely a pause after going from one spot in the sky, to another a hundred yards away.
"That damn staff, with that damn pixie in it" mutters the young elven noble in the royal language of his race, then the highly talented spellcaster, who has the ability to cast multiple spells at once. Shifts himself away, while shifting Shur Kee somewhere else.
"You okay down there?" calls out the dark druid Palvarc as he looks back down the side of the hill "I guess not" dryly adds the advisor to baron Harkonin as he hears the scream of pain from the first mate of the downed frigate. Whose left leg is shattered, not to mention he has a number of other broken bones throughout his body from the violent tumble through the air he took, before hitting the ground.
The dark druid from the very south of the Harkonin fief, spins back around when his staff alerts him. The spellcaster who advises the baron of the fief across the border to the east.
Who has already shot a beam of dark, malevolent energy from his staff at a spot in the sky, the staff pointed to, indicating a hidden spellcaster.
Shoots off another of the beams of dark green energy from the tip of the staff. This one across the top of the hill.
Palvarc grunts in disappointment, as it continues onwards until getting a few hundred yards away, the limit of how far it can go without hitting anyone.
And though his staff, swings quickly away to the left, to the north in the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, to his right on the hilltop. He sees the figure in the strange white clothing, and even stranger hat, has appeared again.
"Bru Li spirit!" shouts Shur Kee the monk as he thrusts his hands out infront of himself once more, creating another ball of spiritual energy barreling towards the dark druid who turns his way.
"Shit" mutters baron Harkonin's advisor, who definitely knows he doesn't want to get hit by what's coming towards him.
The dark druid runs to one side, knowing that his barrier and protection spells are useless against the white ball of energy that's heading his way.
Palvarc, who is missed by the ball of strange looking, non magical energy . Doesn't retaliate against the short fellow in the odd looking conical shaped hat.
Instead he shoots off a beam of dark, green malevolent energy from his staff, towards where it senses a hidden spellcaster, who the dark druid can't actually sense.
"Fuck, by the forest gods" mutters the blurred and shielded elven princeling, Helbenthril Raendril just after shifting. He looks back to where he was just in the sky, about eighty yards to his left. And he sees the afterglow of the beam of dark, green energy shot from the dark druid's staff, passing through the spot in the air he was just in.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, looks down to the hill below. And sees that baron Harkonin's advisor, Palvarc. Is a bit busy at the moment. As he's dodging another of the spirit balls, that Shur Kee the monk has sent towards him.
The elven master assassin waits a moment to see if the dark druid will go after him, or Shur Kee this time.
When he sees the spellcaster from the fief across the border to the east. Roll across the ground, and get up on a knee, swinging his staff around, so that the tip will point at the short, statured monk. The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel shifts again.
"Damn it" mutters Palvarc as the fellow in the strange white clothing vanishes once more, just before the dark, green malevolent beam of energy, shot from the dark druid's staff was about to hit him.
Getting up off the ground, baron Harkonin's advisor lifts his staff, as it swings in his hands to his right and up, indicating in the air where the hidden spellcaster is.
Not this time, Palvarc thinks to himself, who knows that whoever the hidden spellcaster is, they're a distraction. And it's the fellow who has been hurling the nine foot wide balls of strange energy at him, is the real threat.
The dark druid points the tip of his staff up into the sky at the hidden practitioner of magic. But he doesn't shoot a beam of energy at whoever it is.
Nor again, when the staff jerks in his hands, and points at another spot in the sky about sixty yards away to the right, and lower, than what it was previously pointing at.
Palvarc, who senses the ship's sorcerer teleporting in this direction. And who also sees out of the corner of his right eye. One of the ship's boats has come down near the crashed frigate.
Plants the top end of his staff on the ground, and waits. He doesn't have to wait long. And he spins around when his staff informs him. By way of a feeling more than anything. Someone has just stood on the ground about ten yards from him.
Lifting the staff, the bottom, or tip end, outwards and away from him. Palvarc shoots off a beam of dark, green, malevolent energy at the short, statured figure in the odd looking hat who has just appeared.
"Fuck!" yelps the dark druid, who drops to the ground, and narrowly avoids getting hit by the beam of energy he just shot off from his staff.
Which has rebounded off the ball of strange white energy that the short fellow in the odd looking hat, is standing in the middle of.
Palvarc who definitely didn't want to test the strength of his barrier and protection spells against the force of the beam shot from his staff.
Rolls to one side, and quickly gets up. As he sees the strange looking man in the stranger looking clothes, and wearing an even stranger looking hat. Is just standing there with his eyes closed.
They then open, and he thrusts his hands out infront of him, with his fingers spread wide. And the ball of strange white energy he's standing in. Shoots forward, and comes hurtling towards the dark druid Palvarc.
Baron Harkonin's advisor, dives out of the way again. His only saving grace is that the ball of strange, white looking energy only goes in a straight line. If it didn't, one of them would of hit him by now. And he knows he would of ended up like the first mate of the downed frigate.
Even worse if he was directly hit by one of the nine foot wide balls of strange energy. As the ship's officer was only clipped by it. And he ended up down the side of the hill. Where he's whimpering in pain. Trying to crawl away.
The dark druid gets up off the ground, as he does. The ship's sorcerer appears on the hilltop after teleporting from one of the fields in the nearby farm.
"Ware his power!" calls out Palvarc to the officer in the Druvician aircorp. The frigate's spellcaster might not be part of the cadre of those who follow, and practice the old druidic ways, especially the ways of the dark druids.
But he sees the figure in the strange white clothing, wearing an even stranger looking hat. As a threat to the kingdom, who was part of why his airship was brought down.
"And ware a hidden spellcaster!" adds baron Harkonin's advisor, who grimaces as the short fellow who has been attacking him, vanishes once more. The dark druid was too distracted, that he didn't even notice his staff warn him off the hidden spellcaster approaching.
"I'll deal to that sorcerer" says Helbe the elven thief as he and Shur Kee the monk stand about fifty yards from the downed frigate at the base of the hill.
The young elven noble who like the short, statured monk, is blurred. Tells the physical adept "That dark druid is getting more and more distracted".
Shur Kee nods in agreement, and the elven princeling from the island of Laerel adds "You might actually hit him if he's even more distracted".
"Let us hope so" says the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, then he lifts an eyebrow, and slowly nods his head when the elven master archer asks him something.
The highly talented elven magic user who can cast multiple spells at once, then shifts the two of them up into the sky, then shifts Shur Kee away after the living incarnation of the Jade Warrior Bru Li does something.
"What is he?" asks the ship's sorcerer "I wish i bloody knew" mutters Palvarc, who then frowns as he thinks he hears the short fellow in the strange looking hat shout something.
The dark druid looks around, then shrugs his shoulders as he doesn't see him anywhere. And as the ship's spellcaster trotts over this way.
Baron Harkonin's advisor glances at his staff, which jerks in hands, pointing away to his left, to the north again.
He looks that way, to where the hidden spellcaster is at the moment. Then he turns and looks at the ship's officer, who has stopped and is looking up into the sky, as he says "Hey look at that" followed by "It looks exactly like that thing that came up towards the ship".
Palvarc looks up into the sky, then he shouts "Run!" as he sees one of the strange looking white balls of energy come hurtling down out of the sky towards the hilltop. The dark druid legs it, and after a pause, so does the ship's sorcerer.
The advisor to baron Harkonin runs away from where it's going to hit, as he does, he sees the short fellow in the odd, conical shaped hat walking up the side of the hill he's heading towards.
Palvarc grimaces and mutters "Oh shit" and dives sideways, as the figure in the strange looking white clothing, wearing an even stranger looking hat.
Stops, stands slightly sideways, with one foot infront of the other. And with his hands to his side, down by his right hip. Then thrusts his arms and hands forward, as he shouts something. This time, the dark druid hears what he shouts, he hears him shout "Bru Li spirit!".
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Palvarc thinks to himself when he hears what the short fellow shouts. While he dives to one side, hoping he doesn't get hit by the strange ball of white looking energy that forms, and comes hurtling towards him . . . . . .

The Homecoming 122.

Flight...

"Slow going without much in the way of wind" says the ship's sorcerer, who looks aft before adding "Though a bit of a breeze is picking up now".
Beside him, the dark druid Palvarc nods his head, then he says "Excuse me". And makes his way forward through a midships, where he rejoins the first mate. His contact aboard the frigate that's part of the personal fleet of the lord high constable, within the kingdom of Druvic's aircorp.
The dark druid who caused quite a stir when he showed up onboard, out of thin air a little while ago.
Quietly asks the officer who is part of the cadre within the kingdom who is trying to spread the old ways, specifically the ways of the dark druids "Will the captain and the officers do what we want?".
"They will" quietly replies the first mate, who continues with "They've been told by the lord high constable that a rebellion is forming in the Lé Dic fief. And that we're to quell it, as the baron is already doing on behalf of the kingdom".
The spellcaster who is the advisor of baron Harkonin, nods his head in satisfaction as they stand next to the starboard rail, then he quietly says "I hear from the crew that two other ships are heading this way too?".
The officer nods his head and quietly says "A pair of battlecruisers" he continues with "We left as soon as word got to the lord high constable from the baron's men you sent through to the capital" the first mate follows that with "The two battlecruisers were to leave yesterday afternoon. There's more of our, ah kind on them than on the frigate here".
The dark druid is about to nod in satisfaction again, when he frowns as the first mate quietly tells him "Those knights in the order of Saint Mar-che heard about that sir Percavelle being back at his family's home. Some of them, or at least one of the important one's talked the lord high constable, onto letting him catch a ride on one of the battlecruisers".
Palvarc who doesn't like the sound of that. For the very idea, that he and his cadre of dark druids and their supporters. Mainly from the east of the kingdom. Have a completely different worldview to the knights of Saint Mar-che.
And that any other time. They would be enemies. If it wasn't for the fact, they have a common enemy at the moment. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
The advisor to baron Harkonin looks around, then quietly asks the second officer of the airship "There aren't any of them onboard is there?".
"No" is the answer from the first mate, who continues with "We left too quickly for any of them to join us".
"Well at least that's something" quietly says the dark druid as he stands there holding his staff. Palvarc changes the subject as he senses the ship's sorcerer approaching them from aft.
And he asks the first mate in a normal tone of voice "How long till we get to castle Lé Dic you think?".
"Sometime this afternoon" replies the officer, as he spots the ship's sorcerer, who ranks as an officer, making his way towards them from the stern.
"Hopefully a little sooner if this bit of breeze picks up" adds the first mate, who then continues with "I grew up in the Harkonin fief, that's how we know one another" in response to the ship's spellcaster, who asks them "You two know one another?" when he joins them at the starboard rail in a midships.
The advisor to baron Harkonin is just about to excuse himself. As he doesn't particularly want to be around the sorcerer. Looks up the main mast, then forward to the bow. When the lookouts up the mast, and at the bowsprit, all call out something within a few moments of one another.
"Might as well see what it is" says the first mate, who darts a quick glance at the dark druid. Who gets the message, and says "Lead on" and he follows the two officers forward across the top deck of the frigate that's part of the lord high constable's personal fleet, within the aircorp of the kingdom of Druvic.
When they get to the bow, and after the first mate orders some of the crew, who have come forward to gawk, back to their duties. He asks one of the two lookouts "Where?".
"There sir" says the younger of the two lookouts, who points to a hill the warship is approaching.
The second officer, as well as the dark druid, and the ship's officer all look to the hill that's dotted with a few trees on top of it. That the frigate will soon pass over.
"He's just standing there sir" says the younger lookout, while the more senior air sailor who has lookout duties here in the bow, who is looking through one of the brass, cylindrical eyepieces onboard, adds "There he goes again" followed by "Spinning that staff he's got" the older lookout shakes his head as he continues to look through the eyepiece he's got, and he murmurs "That's the strangest looking hat he's wearing, I've ever seen".
The dark druid Palvarc frowns as he looks at figure on the hill they're approaching. A hill that's at the southern end of the range of hills, from the northwest of the Lé Dic fief, which is in the lands of the Range Lord, Sir Parvin Dé Gorveré. Who died earlier this morning, when he killed sir Dontast, the knight in the order of Althilgah.
Their deaths is what started the battle for castle Lé Dic this morning. And what sent Palvarc further west into the Lé Dic fief. When he sensed, or more precisely, his staff, sensed the warship that he was expecting sooner or later, to show up in the fief ruled by the nobleborn Lé Dic family.
Baron Harkonin's advisor murmurs "There's something about" as he looks at the figure on the hilltop the warship is nearing.
When suddenly he looks sharply at his staff, as he feels the warning that it gives him.
"Ware spellcraft!"  quickly says the dark druid to the ship's sorcerer, who hasn't put up any barrier or protection spells around any part of the frigate, for the simple reason that they're not in battle.
Just then, a loud cracking thud comes from the bottom of the twin masted warship. That shakes the entire vessel, the ship's sorcerer yells out in alarm "The keel!".
After casting a shatter spell upon the magical keel of the frigate. Helbe the elven thief, who is standing upside down on the underside of the airship he's just crippled, and more than likely destroyed. Drops down off it, and falls through the air.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user shifts away. Just before he does so, he glances in the direction of the hill that Shur Kee the monk is on, and he grins at what he sees.
Looking quickly over the port side of the frigate, that violently shudders before it starts to slowly drop in altitude.
The dark druid Palvarc mutters "Where?" as he holds his staff up. And lets it point to where, whoever it is, that's just attacked the warship he's on.
He can't sense anyone, but his staff can. As it moves suddenly in his hands, and points away to a patch of sky to the northeast. Then quickly to the east. As whoever it is, is moving a hell of a lot quicker than any spellcaster, that the dark druid has sensed and seen, teleport.
Which he's just about to do, when the first mate behind him, quickly says "What the hell is that?" while from the stern of the ship, the captain starts giving the order to abandon ship, as he instantly realised that the frigate is going to drop out of the sky, with it's magical keel shattered.
"I don't know" murmurs the ship's sorcerer, who backs up as Palvarc turns around and looks at them. The spellcaster, who is one of the officers onboard, looks quickly at the dark druid, and with a fearful look upon his face, he says, almost in a shout "I can't sense it!".
Frowning, the advisor to baron Harkonin looks ahead, to where the first mate is pointing. And he blinks in surprise at what he sees.
What the hell is that thing? Palvarc thinks to himself in surprise as he looks at the what seems to be a white ball of energy, probably about eight or nine feet in width.
That's coming up from the hilltop that the lone figure is standing on. Coming up towards the crippled airship, that's losing altitude as it nears the hill.
The dark druid looks sharply at his staff, but it gives him no warning when he points it at the white ball of what looks like energy, heading up to the descending frigate,
Palvarc just knows that it isn't magical. Which might put other spellcasters at ease.
But the way in which the warship was attacked and crippled so quickly. He's not too keen to find out if the ball of energy, which isn't magical in anyway. Is dangerous or not.
He suspects it is dangerous, and as he grabs the first mate, who has just said "Where the hell are you going?" to the ship's sorcerer, who after quickly backing away. Has turned and run back along the deck, and is now climbing over the port rail.
He and the second officer of the frigate disappear as he teleports the two of them away from the doomed frigate.
The dark druid and the first mate reappear on the ground, next to a track that goes along some fields on a farm.
After the ship's officer mutters "Shit" as he realises what's just happened. He looks up to his airship that's slowly dropping out of the clear, spring sky, when baron Harkonin's advisor quickly asks him "How many of the others are in the crew?".
"Seven plus me" is the reply of the first mate, who then nods as the dark druid tells him "Maybe they'll get on one of the boats" as they see the two ship's boats have been put overboard, and some of the crew are on them.
Then the first mate murmurs "Huh?" and looks at baron Harkonin's advisor, who mutters "By the old ways" as the ball of white energy hits the crippled airship, and nothing happens.
"Er?" says the second officer of the frigate, who then asks "An illusion of some kind?".
"No" says Palvarc the dark druid, who then looks to the hill away to their left. And though they can't see the person who is at the top of it. He suspects that person is still there.
The spellcaster looks around in a circle, holding his staff up as he does so. And though he senses the ship's sorcerer away to the south. He as well as his staff, don't sense any other practitioner of magic in the vicinity.
The dark druid sourly smiles, for though his staff can sense magical things, such as airships. And magical places, such as disused druid's circles. From a fairly long way away.
It can't do so for hidden spellcasters. A side effect from the way it was created. Or more precisely, the thing that helped the original owner and creator of it. Did to what's within the gnarled, fist sized knot on the top of the staff.
Baron Harkonin's advisor narrows his eyelids as he looks back to the nearby hill. Then casting a sideways glance at the first mate of the airship that's getting closer and closer to the ground.
He tells him "Come" followed by "Let's see what that fellow is all about" as he turns towards the hill that's to the east of them, just a few hundred yards away.
The dark druid, who is infused with power as is his staff, after the quick sacrificing ceremony he did earlier this morning, in an underground druid's circle near a village further to the north, here in the west of the Lé Dic fief.
Says to the ship's officer "Be prepared for anything" as the first mate of the crippled frigate draws his shortsword, baron Harkonin's advisor mutters "Who knows what the hell we'll face".
They set off at a walk, and the dark druid tells the officer in the kingdom's aircorp "I'll teleport us up the side of it, since i can't see the top at the moment" as he gestures ahead to the hill.
Palvarc takes hold of the first mate's left arm, and the two of them disappear. A few moments later they reappear up the west side of the hill, about thirty yards from the top.
The two of them look quickly to their right, and though the dark druid is silent, the first mate mutters "Shit" and winces as the two of them watch the warship they were just on.
Approach the ground a hell of a lot quicker than it was when it was higher up in the sky. Then it plows into the ground at the base of the hill.
It hits with a fair bit of impact, with the bow totally demolished. And the hull cracking apart in places.
The main mast, though slanted forward. Remains, more or less upright. Not so the smaller aft mast. Which snaps, and smashes across the port rail, wrecking the already damaged deck.
The vessel which is part of the lord high constable's personal fleet within the kingdom of Druvic's aircorp. Plows about fifty feet across the ground, breaking apart in places. Before it finally comes to a stop. With the front of it, which is just before where the bow decking would normally start. Pointing slightly up the hill, it's crashed at the base of.
"Damn" mutters the first mate who sees that there was a number of crew still on the warship when it crashed into the ground.
He shakes his head in disappointment, and though he spots the two ship's boats up in the sky, heading down this way. He knows that at least more than half of the crew were still onboard when the frigate hit the ground. And that most of them are probably dead.
The ship's officer looks over at the dark druid, who quietly tells him "Remember, be ready for anything".
Then the advisor to baron Harkonin, the dark druid Palvarc, leads the way up the hill. As he does, Palvarc holds his staff out infront of him, waiting to see if it gives him any warning.
Though the spellcaster from the Harkonin fief knows that it will only give him warnings of magical threats.
Now let's see what you're all about then, Palvarc thinks to himself, as he nears the top of the hill, and he finally spots the lone figure standing there by themselves, out in the open, looking down towards the crashed frigate . . . . . .

The Homecoming 121.

A Find...

Helbe the elven thief appears upon a slight rise next to some woods in the west of the Lé Dic fief.
The young elven noble who is blurred and shielded, makes his way along one side of the rise, until it flattens out a bit, before it drops down to a small stream that comes from the woods.
"Here, is it?" asks Helbe the elven thief "At the end there" replies Narladene the ground pixie, the elven magic user nods his hooded head and continues along the flat bit that's on the side of the rise.
The elven princeling from the island of Laerel comes to a stop at a hole in the ground. It's not natural, and shows signs of recently being dug out. There's even newer boot marks in the upturned soil.
The elven masterthief knows who was here just a little earlier this morning. Baron Harkonin's advisor, the dark druid Palvarc.
Just inside the edge of the hole, stonework can be seen, as well as stone steps that lead down into the ground, and into the side of the rise.
The elven masterthief who has no where near the sense of smell as Dorc da Orc, doesn't need to, as he can smell what's down the stone steps in the ground, as to what must of happened fairly recent.
"Do i want to go down?" quietly asks the elven master assassin "Probably not" is the answer from the ground pixie who stands upon the right shoulder of the young elven noble.
The grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel sighs, then makes his way down the steps into the ground. Though the stone steps are cracked in parts, they're in pretty good shape for being centuries old, and underground until recently.
Though there's soil above his head, the elven master archer can just see the stonework hidden by the soil, and the same again when he reaches the bottom of the steps, and finds himself in an underground chamber that's within the rise next to the woods.
"Fuck" mutters prince Helbenthril Raendril as he survey's the underground chamber "Probably from that village to the northeast" adds the elven magic user in a murmur.
On his right shoulder, the tiny winged creature who is 'attached' to him, nods her head in agreement.
Around the chamber, that's basically circular in shape. There are standing stones, which jut out of the walls, a dozen in total.
And on the four points of north, south, east and west. Four bodies are tied to the standing stones. Which is obviously a druid's circle.
Two men and a woman, and a young girl are tied to the stones. All in various states of nakedness. And in very states of death.
They've all died fairly recently, not long ago this morning to be exact. With the young girl, who looks to be about five or six, dead with a cut across the throat.
To one of the men, who has been sliced open, and ribs spread open. Within his organs and insides on the floor of the chamber at his feet.
Helbe the elven thief grimaces as he steps forward, to where a flat circular, stone like table is in the center of the underground chamber.
It's about three feet off the floor, on a heavy square pedestal. Which looks like it's natural bedrock.
And though some of the circular table is broken in parts. It's still nearly ten feet across.
The young elven noble from the island of Laerel lets out a slow breath as he looks at the fifth body in the underground chamber.
Another woman, naked, who has been dismembered. And though her legs, arms and head have been cut off. They've been placed close to the torso so that it still roughly resembles a body.
"Blood magic" mutters the highly talented elven spellcaster. On his right shoulder, Narladene with a look of disgust upon her face, nods in agreement as she looks at the dismembered body on the stone table in the center of the hidden chamber.
"Fucking druids" mutters prince Helbenthril Raendril in the royal elven language, who like all elven kind, isn't particularly fond of druids in general. And despises the dark kind, such as Palvarc, who is the advisor of baron Harkonin.
Switching back to the regular elven language which Narladene can understand, the elven masterthief says to her "Wonder if he needs the power for himself?" he then adds "Or that staff of his?".
The naturally magical creature, who originally hails from the towering Sunreach Mountains, which lie north of the kingdom of Druvic.
Is quiet for a few moments before she says "How about he needs it to control that staff?".
The elven magic user pauses for a moment, then he slowly nods his hooded head, as he quietly says "Maybe".
Then looking at the five dead in the underground chamber, who were killed not that long ago by the dark druid Palvarc. Helbe the elven thief feeling that they deserve some sort of respect in death.
Casts a spell on all five of the bodies, one at a time, starting with the young girl, and ending with the naked, dismembered woman on the stone table in the middle of the ancient druid's chamber hidden beneath a rise.
The bodies each flash a yellowish white, as the elven magic user burns them in an instant without a single flame appearing on their bodies.
"May your gods protect you" murmurs the grandson of Prince Raendril as just a slight dusting of white ash remains of the five who were sacrificed by the dark druid Palvarc this morning.
Then the elven masterthief turns, and makes his way back up the steps, and out of the underground chamber.
"None of them will ever use this again" mutters the young elven noble as he walks away from the hole in the ground, and along the flat section on the side of the rise.
As earth, soil, rock and stone spews up from the hole in the ground as he destroys the ancient underground druid's chamber with a series of blast spells.
On top of the rise as the ground tremors beneath him, Helbe the elven thief looks away to the southwest, and as he senses, he asks the tiny winged creature who is attached to him "Has he got to that airship?".
"He's there now" is the answer from Narladene as she senses where the dark druid Palvarc is. Prince Helbenthril Raendril nods his hooded head, then he spots the frigate in the sky to the southwest, flying fairly slowly due to the lack of wind this morning in the west of the Lé Dic fief.
"Right" says the elven magic user, who after taking heed of his power of foresight from earlier. That if he was to go directly to the Druvician aircorp vessel heading across the skies of the Lé Dic fief. That he'd would die at the hands of Palvarc the dark druid.
He shifts away, towards it. Still taking a circular route to get to it. As he hopes to come at it from behind.
Sitting on the hilltop where Helbe the elven thief left him earlier, Shur Kee the monk who has been meditating as he sits in the sun. Opens his eyes, and looks to the west and south.
The acolyte in the philosophical order of Bru Li slightly frowns, then he gets up off the ground. The short, statured monk makes his way to the nearby shade from the few trees on top of the hill.
There he looks to the west and south again, and he nods his head as he spots the airship in the distance. Which looks like it's heading directly this way, more or less.
The physical adept, who has pretty keen eyesight for a human being. Can see that even from over a couple of miles away, the vessel in the late morning sky to the southwest, is a warship.
And that it's flying fairly slowly due to the lack of wind here in the west of the Lé Dic fief.
The monk from the kingdom of Wah Lee on the far east coast of the continent. Suspects if the wind was as strong as it was yesterday afternoon and last night.
The warship, which is part of the kingdom of Druvic's aircorp. Would be at castle Lé Dic by now, if as Helbe the elven thief informed him. The airship from the capital Leeabra, is bound for.
Moving further back beneath the branches of the tree he's under. Just incase a spellcaster, or someone with an eyepiece on board the Druvician airship is looking this way.
Shur Kee the monk waits as the vessel in the clear spring sky comes this way.
And if prince Helbenthril Raendril is correct. And that the dark druid Palvarc, the advisor to baron Harkonin has gone to meet the oncoming warship.
Then he, the short, statured monk from the far eastern coastal kingdom of Wah Lee, might be the only one who will be able to stop the spellcaster who is the advisor of baron Harkonin.
Shur Kee just doesn't wait for the oncoming airship. He also waits for a message from Helbe the elven thief. Which no doubt will come via Narladene the ground pixie.
Appearing on a wooded hilltop, that gives him a fairly good view of the airship in the aircorp of the kingdom of Druvic which is now to the east of him, since he's come around behind it.
Helbe the elven thief quietly says to Narladene the ground pixie "I can deal to the ship itself" the young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel continues with "But Shur Kee might be the one to who has to take on the dark druid".
The naturally magical creature who is perched on his right shoulder, nods her tiny head in understanding. As the two of them look further to the east, and north, to the hill in the distance a few miles away. That the short, statured monk is on.
"He's waiting beneath the trees there" says Narladene, prince Helbenthril Raendril who is blurred and shielded, nods his head when he too spots the short, statured monk in the shade on the hill in the distance.
A hill, that the nearby warship, which though is part of the king's fleet. It is actually part of the personal fleet of the lord high constable of the kingdom.
Is more or less, heading towards. And will probably pass over sometime fairly soon.
"Well that staff has definitely got a limit to how far it can sense" quietly says the elven magic user who avoids mentioning what's more than likely, captured within the staff that the dark druid Palvarc has in his possession.
"If not, he would of attacked me" adds the elven masterthief, who is the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
Nodding her head in agreement, Narladene asks the young elven noble that she's attached to "How do you want to do this?".
She listens in silence as the elven master assassin quickly explains what he'll do. And also what he wants Shur Kee the monk to do.
After slightly frowning when the highly talented elven spellcaster finishes telling her his plan. The ground pixie quietly says "You'll need a lot of luck for that to happen".
The tiny winged creature, who like the elven master archer, is closely watching the nearby warship as it heads east above the Lé Dic fief.
Continues with "What if he doesn't face Shur Kee?".
"He will" quietly says the elven princeling, who continues with "All spellcasters want to take him on when he confronts them" he then dryly adds "Much to their misfortune".
Helbe the elven thief who is watching the Druvician aircorp frigate, which he can sense the dark druid Palvarc is onboard, with another spellcaster. A sorcerer, most likely an officer in the kingdom's aircorp.
Glances at the ground pixie on his right shoulder, and quietly tells her "Go and tell Shur Kee to get ready" the elven magic user continues with "Because it'll be quick once i do it".
The naturally magical creature who is originally from the Sunreach Mountains, nods her tiny head, then takes off. Diving down into the ground, which she can fly quicker through than she can through the air. And she wings her way to the hilltop to the east and north that Shur Kee the monk is on.
As she does, prince Helbenthril Raendril gets ready to do a series of shifts to get to the warship in the kingdom's aircorp.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel waits as he watches the hilltop in the distance that the short, statured monk is on, standing in the shade beneath some trees.
After taking a drink from his water bottle, and putting it back on his belt. The acolyte in the order of Bru Li picks up his staff, and goes back to watching the approaching airship. Which looks like it's picking up a bit more speed. Not much, as it's still flying slowly. But quicker than it was before, as a slight, but steady breeze is now coming from the southwest.
The short, statured monk is just wondering when Narladene the ground pixie is going to show up again. When all of a sudden he hears her familiar voice to the right of him.
The physical adept slightly frowns as he listens to what she has to tell him.
"He wants me to do what?" asks Shur Kee the monk, who then slightly shrugs when the invisible ground pixie quickly explains again what Helbe the elven thief wants the short, statured monk to do.
"If friend Helbe says so" murmurs Shur Kee with another shrug of his shoulders, as he waits as the approaching warship gets closer and closer to the hill that he's on.
Then the physical adept, straightens his hat, and with his staff in hand, he walks out from beneath the tree he's been standing under.
Shur Kee walks across the hilltop, out into the open. Clearly in view of the lookouts onboard the Druvician aircorp vessel that's nearing the hilltop he's on.
The short statured monk, twirls and spins his staff a couple of times to make sure he's seen by those onboard the approaching warship.
"Wait for it" quietly says Narladene, who though invisible to the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, she remains beside him.
Shur Kee slightly nods as he waits for what Helbe the elven thief is about to do . . . . . .

The Homecoming 120.

Warleader...

"Krom runs beside me, Krom is with me" murmurs Dorc da Orc as he finishes the traditional ork chant as he runs.
The ork warleader who has taken a spear from across back, then howls like the totem of his tribe, a wolf.
Then letting out a squeal like an enraged pig, which he follows with a "Get some!" he throws the spear he's holding in his right hand.
The spear goes nearly ninety yards, and slams into the chest of one the mounts of the knights who have ridden around from the south side of castle Lé Dic. Who are now charging the large ork from the bottom of the world.
The barding of the warhorse doesn't save it. As the spear goes through it, deep into the chest. And the animal cartwheels forward, throwing the knight on it's back out of the saddle.
Which illicits a loud chortle from the warleader of the ork race, who is huffing and puffing in the spring sun as he runs parallel to the moat, here along the east side of castle Lé Dic.
One of the following mounts, jumps the downed horse. While another of the knights has to swerve his mount to one side, to avoid the knight who has been thrown from the saddle, who is staggering to his feet.
"Ride it down!" shouts sir Parnak who leads the landed knights from the Harkonin fief, who have ridden around from the south side of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for centuries.
The rotund knight in the suit of heavy iron armour. Rides around sir Timack's warhorse. Narrowly avoiding sir Timack himself, who almost staggers infront of the rotund knight's mount.
Sir Parnak wishes they had lances, as he can see that they would be ideal to take on the large green creature, which is apparently an ork, who they're riding towards. And who is running at them, not caring that there's seven, well six now. Heavily armoured knights on their warhorses, charging towards him.
"Harkonin!" shouts sir Parnak, which is echoed by the other five landed knights from the Harkonin fief who are still in the saddle, as they near the big, burly looking ork.
"Fucken get some!" yells Dorkindle in response to the enemy knights shouting "Harkonin!".
The large ork, who has taken a throwing hammer from the front of his weapon harness. Looks at the two knights in baron Harkonin's army who are infront, riding side by side.
While the third, who is in heavy iron armour of all things, is slightly behind them. The other three still in the saddle, are spread out a bit more behind them.
While the one who is horseless, is staggering as he runs in this direction. Following further back than his fellow nobleborn knights from the fief across the border to the east.
With a wide grin splitting his broad, green, feral looking face. Dorc da Orc biffs the throwing hammer at the enemy knight in the front on the right, then dives forward, and crash tackles the legs of the warhorse on the left. The ork weaponsmith roars as he does so.
The landed knight on the right, who wisely had a cavalry shield up on one arm. Is flung backwards out of his saddle when the ork throwing hammer slams into his raised shield.
While the warhorse on the left, along with it's rider. As well as one roaring, and enraged ork warleader. Go tumbling sideways, in a flurry of flailing limbs. From the force of the impact of the large ork tackling the front legs of the charging warhorse.
The big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. Grunts as he goes tumbling to one side, with a warhorse and it's armoured rider, tumbling over, and with him.
The mount whinnies in pain from a pair of broken front legs. While the knight, who miraculously stays in the saddle. Shouts in anger, then in pain. As first his own horse rolls over him. Then the large ork does, as all three of them tumble across the ground.
"Oowww bads horsey" mutters Dorkindle when a flailing hoof whacks him in the mouth, as he, the warhorse, and the knight, still in the saddle, roll away a couple more times before finally coming to a stop.
The ork warleader, who finds himself lying half over the badly injured mount, grunts, then punches down at the knight in baron Harkonin's army. Who is still in the saddle, pinned by his own horse, and a rather large ork.
The big, meaty fist of the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, slams into the full helm, that's slightly askew on the head of the nobleborn knight, who is groaning in pain.
Dorc da Orc chuckles as he caves in the steel helm of the enemy knight, as blood flies out of the breathing slots in the faceplate of the full helm.
Then the large ork groans, then mutters "Fucken bitchtitty cuntass" as he rolls off the dying horse, holding his left side.
Sir Parnak mutters "Fuck" as sir Lameré goes flying backwards out of the saddle, and by him to his left.
And then the rotund knight in the heavy iron plate, has to yank on the reins of his horse, to the left. To avoid sir Robaré and his warhorse. Who have just crashed into the large green creature. Or it's smashed into them. He's not too sure. As he's too busy trying to steer his mount out of the way. As they all go tumbling to one side from the violent impact.
The landed knight, who leads the noblemen who have ridden around from the south side of castle Lé Dic to confront what's apparently an ork, that's made it across the moat, and is amongst baron Harkonin's army here on the east side of the massive castle.
Pulls sharply back on the reins, trying to bring his warhorse to a halt, and bring it back around.
The rotund knight looks quickly back, and mutters "By the gods" as he momentarily forgets he's converted to the old druidic ways of worship. As he sees the large green creature, stumbling to it's feet next to the downed warhorse of sir Robaré.
The other three landed knights from the Harkonin fief who are in the saddle, have wisely slowed down as they approach to where the creature is.
Sir Parnak gets his mount around, and he rides back, as he does, he spots sir Lameré, with what's obviously a broken right arm, struggling to his feet.
While back in the direction they've come from, he sees sir Timack in the distance, stumbling this way.
The nobleman who leads the landed knights who have been sent around to this side of castle Lé Dic, rides back to where the others are now surrounding the large green creature. Though keeping well back from it.
Dorkindle winces in pain, as it feels like he's got some cracked ribs along his left side. Then he looks up and sees that the enemy knights are circling him. There's three still in the saddle, while a fourth, the one in the heavy iron plate armour, rides up and joins them.
The large ork ignores the two on foot, one who is about thirty yards away, clutching a broken right arm, unsteady on his feet, as he looks this way.
While another is further back, closer to the moat, stumbling in this direction from where his warhorse was killed by the spear thrown by the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks.
The big, burly ork who was named warleader of his race by lord Farque a number of years ago. Looks back in the direction of the trade road that leads to the gates on this side of the massive castle.
Most of the enemy soldiers yet to get on the water, are on either side of it. With very few in this direction. The closest of the soldiers in baron Harkonin's army, are on the moat itself. Polling a couple of rafts southwards along the moat. Hoping to put up their scaling ladders towards the southeast corner of the east wall. Where there isn't that many defenders to repel them.
"Me deal to those fuckers, after me kills these knight cunts dead" murmurs Dorc da Orc in the totally incomprehensible language of his race as he looks from the nearby enemy upon the moat, to the mounted knights who have circled him. Keeping about fifty feet back.
Quickly looking at the weapons the nobleborn knights from the Harkonin fief have got, and snorting in derision.
The large ork, who is standing next to the dying horse, and the dead knight pinned beneath it. Steps over to where the dead nobleman is lying beneath the flailing warhorse.
Dorkindle with a throwing axe taken from the front of his weapon harness. Slams it down into the neck of the dead knight. Easily cutting through the steel gorget, and through the chainmail neck piece beneath it. Down through the throat and neck, cutting off the head.
The ork weaponsmith picks up the head by the visor of the full helm that's still on it.
He looks at the enemy knights who are still mounted and grins at them before he tips up his face, holds the head in the helm above it, and lets the blood pouring from it, fall on his upturned face.
Dorc da Orc opens his mouth, letting blood from the head he's holding run into it, then still grinning, though it's a bloody grin. He looks at each of the mounted knights, the fourth of whom, brings his horse to a stop, as the four of them basically surround him.
Sir Parnak almost vomits up what he had for breakfast when he sees what the large green creature does with sir Robaré's head. Then the rotund knight in the heavy iron plate armour. After seeing that it's pretty much intact after the violent collision between it and sir Robaré's mount, orders the other three nobleborn knights to dismount.
"We'll take it on foot" says the rotund knight as he gets down out of the saddle, he looks away to the right and calls out "Hurry up Lameré!".
With his faceplate up, and holding his shattered right arm, sir Lameré grimaces as he limps this way.
Sir Parnak then looks away to the south, and sourly smiles as he sees sir Timack staggering this way, almost walking into the moat as he does so.
The rotund knight shakes his full helmed head, and though he has a broadsword at his side. Which he's fairly capable with. His weapon of choice is a heavy warhammer, which he takes from where it's strapped behind his saddle.
He then nods to the other there landed knights who have also dismounted. Sir Galbín, whose steel armour has almost a copper tone to it. Sir Amarnéré, the youngest and largest of them, whose suit of steel plate armour, has a white sheen to it. Except his full helm, which is black. The faceplate of which, has a bird like beak to it.
And sir Rogarsen, who is in plain, but solid steel armour. But has a white cape attached to the top of his armoured shoulder plates. Which flows out behind him. In obvious imitation of the famous sir Percavelle Lé Dic. The only other knight, wether landed or ordered, here in eastern Druvic. Who wears a cape.
With his warhammer in his gauntleted hands, sir Parnak looks at the blood soaked grinning face of the large green creature, which form it's behaviour, probably is an ork.
And he says to his fellow nobleborn knights from the Harkonin fief "Kill it!".
Dumb fucks, Dorc da Orc thinks to himself as he looks at the four enemy knights who have dismounted, and are now approaching him.
The ork weaponsmith who hails from the southern polar region of the world, quickly looks at the nobleborn knight in the iron plate armour, who holds a long handled warhammer.
He seems to be the one in command. But it's not who the big, burly ork attacks first. It's the one in the suit of plain looking steel armour. For the simple reason that landed knight from the Harkonin fief reminds him of sir Percavelle Lé Dic, with that white cape he's wearing,
With a head in a full helm in one hand, and a throwing axe in the other. Dorkindle let's out a loud roar, followed by a "Get some!".
Then he throws the head in the helm, and because he's naturally ambidextrous, as are all orks. He biffs the throwing axe in his other hand, an instant after he throws the bloody head in the helm.
The head in the helm is thrown so hard, and so quick. That there's no way that sir Rogarsen can avoid it.
The head in the helm slams into his midriff, denting the lower half of his breastplate. And doubling him over.
Which is rather unfortunate for him. Because the throwing axe hurled at him. Hits him right then, in the top of the helm as he's doubled over, bent forward.
The axehead drives through the steel helm, into his skull and into his brain.
And though his head violently rocked back from the axe hitting the top of it.
He folds forward almost slowly, and doubles over completely, with his head hitting the ground, while his legs are still stiff, keeping the lower half of his body upright. He precariously balances there, even though he's dead.
The other three landed knights from the fief across the border to the east all pause as they see what's just happened to sir Rogarsen.
Who head down, ass up. Balances there, dead. With his cape fluttering in a slight breeze that's come along the east side of castle Lé Dic.
Of course, this has caused Dorc da Orc to chortle in glee, as he can't ever recall killing someone, who has ended up like how the landed knight wearing the white cape has just died.
Then with his broad, green, brutish looking face covered with human blood, he takes a hammer from his belt, and shouts "Fucken get some ya cunts!" in the common language.
Dorc da Orc then moves towards the other knights in baron Harkonin's army, who are close by. Determined to kill them all, for daring to confront him in battle. Him, the ork leader of war . . . . . .

The Homecoming 119.

Ebbs & Flows...

"Mad idiot" dryly murmurs Riley Hait the mercenary ranger as he looks to the road to the south, where sir Percavelle Lé Dic is fighting a number of the enemy noblemen.
It looks like the former earl of Lé Dic has already killed three of the landed knights from the fief to the east. And there's three more he's still up against.
The ranger Hait is pretty sure that one of the remaining noblemen from the Harkonin fief on the road, confronting the heavily armoured knight in the order of Saint Mar-che is sir Taevar, the Harkonin army commander.
From what the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen has heard, and what he knows from his own personal experiences. No one in baron Harkonin's army would be able to defeat sir Percavelle Lé Dic in combat.
They should of let their crossbowmen stand back and shoot that raving lunatic full of bolts, Riley Hait dryly thinks to himself, then the mercenary ranger who is in command of the defence of the south side of castle Lé Dic, says to the nearby group of archers and crossbowmen "Keep shooting at any of the enemy soldiers who get close to the road".
As of now, pretty much all of the baron's soldiers on this side of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family. Are near or on the moat. Trying to scale the near fifty foot wall to get onto the battlements.
The only exception are the crews of the war machines further to the rear. But even some of them have moved forward, as currently the catapults and trebuchets of the enemy are not in use, as they're likely to hit their own men, as much as the defenders up on the parapet of castle Lé Dic.
It's only the camp followers at the very rear, who unsurprisingly haven't engage in the battle so far.
After calling out to those further to the right along the top of the south wall, to keep dropping stones and rocks down upon the enemy.
The mercenary ranger who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of Riley Hait.
Looks down in the courtyard below, and seeing that the war machine crews down there aren't really doing anything. Apart from the largest trebuchet, which is flinging projectiles to the rear of the enemy army on this side of castle Lé Dic.
Waves over a runner, and tells the youngster from the town of Massic "Go down into the courtyard, and tell the engineer Tovis to send up half of the crews" the ranger Hait then adds "They can help us up here".
"Yes sir" says the youngster, who takes off towards the nearest set of steps, keeping low. As enemy arrows and bolts zip over the top of the merlons and battlements.
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman looks along the parapet in both directions from where he stands above the main gates on the south side of castle Lé Dic, and he spots something.
As one of the nearby ballistas shoots down at an acute angle, trying to hit the enemy in the moat. The mercenary ranger who was raised and trained in the elven principality of Envadarlen calls out "Throw those two troughs down at them!".
As there's a couple of the troughs full of human and animal faeces, still on the parapet away to the left from the south gates of castle Lé Dic.
A couple of soldiers, one wounded after taking a glancing blow from an enemy crossbow bolt to the arm. And a trio of townsfolk, all of whom have just pushed one of the enemy scaling ladders off the face of the wall.
Grimace as they cover their mouths and noses with the cloths tied around their necks, and makes their way to the first of the waste troughs that have yet to be dumped down upon the enemy.
Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson, who spots a townsman coming up the nearby steps with a stack of arrows, those that can be used in the ranger Hait's elven made longbow.
Wryly grins as he turns and heads towards the nearby steps to get some of the arrows, as he hears the loud shouts, and yells of disgust from the enemy below, when the contents of one of the waste troughs are dumped down onto them.
"You lot all go" says Tovis the war engineer to those he's picked out amongst the crews he's in charge of, to follow the runner back to the south wall parapet.
Baron Harkonin's former war engineer looks up at the south wall battlements as he starts to follow behind the last of the crew who are heading across the large south courtyard to the wall.
He spots Riley Hait the mercenary ranger up on the parapet, crouching down with a couple of archers, going through bushels of arrows.
The ranger Hait looks down into the courtyard, and spots those in the war machine crews who are hurrying to the south wall of castle Lé Dic. And the young engineer from the Harkonin fief who is trailing them.
Tovis sees the mercenary ranger in command of the defence of the south side of the massive castle, shake his head as he looks at the war engineer, then gestures for him to remain down in the courtyard.
A sour smile briefly crosses the face of baron Harkonin's former war engineer, then he turns and makes his way back to the larger trebuchet, which is continuing to hurl loads over the castle wall, to the rear of the enemy army assaulting the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
As a couple of townsfolk carrying a wounded soldier on a wooden board, an old door by the looks of it, as a stretcher goes running by him to the main keep. Where the healers and surgeons are. Along with the castle wizard, who by all accounts is pretty useless when it comes to magic. And is only able to do basic healing spells, which still can save those who are close to death, if done quickly.
Tovis the war engineer, looks around the west side of the main keep, to the north side of castle Lé Dic. Hoping to spot Lisell Maera who he knows is up on the battlements along the north side of the massive castle.
After a few moments, baron Harkonin's former war engineer spots the attractive young woman who is in charge of the defence along the north side of castle Lé Dic.
She's with a couple of soldiers, and they're looking down at something outside of the castle. Tovis figures some of the enemy must be around there now.
"There and there" says Lisell Maera, who then tells one of the two experienced soldiers with her, looking down at the moat below "Go".
That soldier hurries along the top of the north wall, gathering a couple of townsmen as he heads to where a lone Lé Dic soldier, has picked up a polearm, to try and push off an enemy scaling ladder that's just come up against the face of the north wall of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for centuries.
"More of them are slipping around to this side" says the other experienced soldier with the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, who is in command of the defence of this side of the massive castle.
Lisell Maera, or Lis as she's more commonly referred to by the rest of the group. Nods her head in agreement with the soldier beside her.
As they see that there's now a trio of the enemy rafts on the moat here on the north side of castle Lé Dic.
One is up against the wall, that one has the scaling ladder up. While another has just been pushed out from the otherside of the moat.
While the third, is drifting around in circles. As there's just a pair of Harkonin soldiers polling it at the moment. As two others on it have been shot dead by the archers on the north wall parapet. And the fifth enemy soldier who was on that raft, is floundering in the water with a crossbow bolt in the leg.
The orphan teenager from the west coast of the Southlands. Who has the least amount of soldiers under her commander to defend the north wall of the massive castle. Fourteen now, since Tamric Drubine sent a couple of crossbowmen around from the west wall battlements.
And probably has twice that many townsfolk and castle servants to help out with the defence of the north side of castle Lé Dic.
Murmurs "That's the way" as she sees what the experienced soldier she sent to the right along the battlements is doing.
He and the two townsmen with him, are dragging one of the few troughs full of human excrement on the north wall parapet, to where the lone soldier with the polearm is trying to shove an enemy scaling ladder off the face of the wall.
Then the four of them, after all of them put the cloths they've got tied around their necks, over their mouths and noses.
Pick up the water trough full of faeces, and dump it, and everything in it, off the top of the wall.
Lis looks down and to the right, and winces as she sees the watery human waste rain down upon the enemy on the raft with the scaling ladder up against the north wall of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for generations.
The trough itself smashes into one of the Harkonin soldiers actually climbing the ladder, and clips another one, who is just starting to climb it. Then it slams into the raft itself, knocking off those who haven't already jumped into the water, covered in shit.
Those four defenders up on the north wall parapet don't even have to shove the scaling ladder off the face of the wall. It slides off with no one holding it, and hits the water.
The two soldiers, one experienced, and one fairly new to the Lé Dic army. Along with the two townsmen, then hurry over to a pile of rubble on the parapet.
There, they start dropping large rocks and broken bits of masonry down at the scaling ladder in the water, trying to smash it. Not to mention the enemy soldiers who have been knocked into the moat.
One who is struggling to keep afloat, is vomiting as he's got a fair amount of shit in his mouth, as he was looking up when the human waste and trough were dumped off the top of the wall.
Stops vomiting when a large rock smashes down upon the top of his head, shattering apart his skull, killing him instantly.
"More of them" says Lisell Maera as she points out to the experienced soldier beside her, more of the enemy coming around from the east side of the massive castle.
There's probably a dozen of them, a handful at first on the otherside of the moat, then a group who are actually already on the water, having poled their raft around from the east wall of castle Lé Dic.
"Take one of the archers and one of the crossbowmen with you" orders the attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, who continues with "Pick off as many as you can before they can get a ladder up".
The experienced soldier nods, and takes off running. While Lisell Maera follows after him, loading the crossbow she's holding. The quick loading crossbow, that was designed by Dorc da Orc, and once belonged to Shur Kee the monk.
Lis who has hardly used it so far during the battle for castle Lé Dic. Knows that's about to change with more of the enemy making their way around to this side of the massive castle. As she quickly walks, she looks over to east wall of castle Lé Dic.
"Giant, green fucking psycho" murmurs Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy in his native language as he watches Dorc da Orc across the moat, making his way through the enemy, heading towards the southeast corner of the massive castle.
The spy from the principality of Alínlae, who is in command of the defence of the east wall of castle Lé Dic.
Takes his eyes off the large ork who is cutting down any of the enemy, brave enough, or more accurately, dumb enough, to get in his way.
Dalinvardél or Dalin as he's commonly referred to by the rest of the group. Nods his head to one of the castle smith's who stops and puts a bushel of bolts down next to the elven spy.
The smith, along with his apprentice, or striker as they're commonly referred to. Continues along the top of the east wall, handling out bushels of bolts to those with crossbows.
The spy Tanith would also like some yard long arrows for his longbow. But none are forthcoming. So he makes do with the quarrels for his crossbow.
After loading the weapon, Dalin looks across the moat again. To where there's a trio of Lé Dic soldiers, who followed Dorc da Orc down the enemy siege tower, and across the moat. And are now amongst the enemy, fighting for their lives.
There was originally four of them, but there's now just the three. And they've just taken by surprise, a group of Harkonin soldiers who have just pushed a raft into the water.
"Protect them!" calls out Dalinvardél Tanith who points to the trio of Lé Dic soldiers across the moat, they're on the north side of the trade road, here on the east side of the massive castle.
While the ork warleader, who is well and truly gone by it. Is further away on the south side of the very same road.
A couple of nearby archers, and a trio of crossbowmen up here on the east wall battlements. Let arrows and bolts fly. Shooting at the enemy near where the trio of Lé Dic soldiers are fighting the Harkonin soldiers.
The spy Tanith lets the bolt in his crossbow fly, and it takes a Harkonin soldier across the moat, in the side as he runs at the trio of soldiers in the Lé Dic army.
Dalin grimaces as one of the trio goes down when he's hit by a sword. And as he pulls back his crossbow, another of the Lé Dic soldiers drops to the ground when he's hit in the back with an axe. Though not before swinging his sword, that takes a Harkonin soldier across the face.
And as he falls to the ground in his death throes, he wildly swings his sword. And gets a lucky hit, slamming his blade into the right leg of another Harkonin soldier.
There's just one of the Lé Dic soldiers left across the moat. And though the archers and crossbowmen up on the east wall parapet, as well as the spy Tanith. Shoot at the enemy soldiers near him.
He's soon surrounded by a large number of soldiers from the fief across the border to the east,
By the forest gods, let them pay a high price for you life, Dalinvardél Tanith thinks to himself as he watches the lone Lé Dic soldier across on the otherside of the moat, surrounded by the enemy.
One of them goes down when an arrow takes him in the back, and another staggers away, with a crossbow bolt through his arm.
A third howls in pain, and falls over with a bolt in the ass. While a fourth hits the ground with the bolt shot from the spy Tanith's crossbow, in his face.
The Lé Dic soldier, who sees his end coming. Makes the most of the opportunity with a handful of the enemy around him dropping, either dead or wounded.
He slams his sword into the neck of one of the enemy, who turned to look at his fellow Harkonin soldier, howling on the ground with the crossbow bolt in his rear end.
The soldier in lady Linara Lé Dic's army kicks out at another of the enemy. Getting a low blow, when his boot slams into the groin of another of the enemy.
Then the Lé Dic soldier whack his bloody sword across the face of another of the soldiers in baron Harkonin's army.
Whilst another, who is behind him, and swinging his sword to whack him across the back of the head. Is felled by an arrow that takes him in the side of the neck.
But another of the enemy soldiers from the Harkonin fief behind the Lé Dic soldier, stabs his shortsword into the lower back of the lone Lé Dic soldier across the moat.
Dalinvardél Tanith winces as the last of the Lé Dic soldiers drops to the ground. Swinging his sword as he dies. "Good" murmurs the elven spy as the final Lé Dic soldiers last swing connects. As his blade slashes across the legs of one of the Harkonin soldiers, breaking them if him falling to the ground so quickly is anything to go by.
The enemy soldier who killed the last of the Lé Dic soldiers across on the otherside of the moat. Is hit first by an arrow that takes him in the back, and then a bolt that gets him in a guts as he staggers away, before falling over.
The elf who once served in one of the more prominent noble houses in the principality of Alínlae, then looks to either side of where he stands above the east gates of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for many a generation.
"You two, go and help that lot out" says the elven spy to a couple of nearby townsmen, as he gestures away to the left, where a group of defenders on the parapet, are trying to push away a pair of enemy scaling ladders, that are side by side, up against the face of the east wall of castle Lé Dic.
Dalin who has reloaded his crossbow again, leans forward, and around the merlon to his left. Not caring if an enemy bolt or arrow comes flying his way. A couple of which do, narrowly missing the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae.
The spy Tanith shoots down to the left, and the bolt shot from his crossbow with it's arms extended. Slams into the side of the head of a Harkonin soldier, on the raft about forty feet further to the left from the main gates on the east side of castle Lé Dic.
The enemy soldier who was just shot by Dalinvardél Tanith was helping to hold one of the two scaling ladders that are right next to one another.
He falls into the water dead, and the rest holding the ladder steady on the raft they're on. Struggle to keep it steady, and it starts sliding to one side.
It starts sliding even quicker, when a timely shove comes from up top. Where the defenders use two polearms to try and push it away from the face of the east wall of the massive castle.
The scaling ladder, and the trio of enemy soldiers climbing up it. Go sideways, and smash into the scaling ladder to their right on another of the rafts in the moat.
Both scaling ladders, and the total of eight enemy soldiers climbing on the two of them, cash down into the water. A couple of moments later, and large rocks and bits of broken masonry start falling down upon them from the battlements above.
"Sir elf, look there!" says the young bannerman further to the right above the gates here on the east side of castle Lé Dic.
Dalin looks to where he's pointing away to the south, and the spy Tanith murmurs "Oh shit" at what he sees.
It's mounted knights, who have come around from the south side of the massive castle. There's seven of them, and they're riding along beside the moat. Dalinvardél Tanith then wryly smiles as he sees who the enemy noblemen are riding towards.
Then he rolls his eyes, as over the noise of the battle, he hears a distinctive, and familiar roar from Dorc da Orc, who obviously knew the enemy knights were coming around to this side of castle Lé Dic, most likely from his strong sense of smell, because he's heading straight towards them . . . . . .

The Homecoming 118.

At Home...

At the last moment, sir Percavelle Lé Dic quickly takes a couple of steps back. And sir Hamdell and sir Jarmick crash into one another as they attempt to swing their swords at the former earl of Lé Dic.
The noblemen from the Harkonin fief, who ran at the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che from opposite directions. Hit the ground with a clatter.
The nobleborn knight who once ruled the Lé Dic fief, steps forward and kicks sir Hamdell in the side. Sending the former Harkonin army captain rolling away, groaning in pain as he does so.
Then the former paladin, kicks sir Jarmick's sword away. As the landed knight from the very south of the Harkonin fief tries to grab his weapon that he's dropped.
The nobleborn knight, the only ordered one out of the seven of them on the road, before the south side moat of his family's castle.
Then kicks sir Hamdell in the rump. Sending the landed knight from south of baron Harkonin's fief sprawling.
Then sir Percavelle Lé Dic or Percy as he's more commonly referred to by the rest of the group, lifts up the faceplate of his full helm, and looks over at sir Taevar the Harkonin army commander, and grins.
With a sour smile upon his face, sir Taevar says "Get up" to the knights Hamdell and Jarmick. Baron Harkonin's army commander after glancing over at sir Balick, the only other landed knight from the Harkonin fief, here facing the former earl of Lé Dic, he can truly trust.
Says to the other five knights "When i said together, i meant together" as sir Jarmick and sir Hamdell scramble to their feet, which the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che allows them to do.
"Don't forget your sword there Jarmick" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a cheerful tone, as sir Jarmick after getting up, moves back. While sir Hamdell winces as he backs up with a sore side, where his armour has been dented in by the right sabaton of the former knight of the first class.
After darting a look at sir Percavelle, sir Jarmick whose armour is now no longer so shiny, and has scratches along it. Hurries forward and picks up his dropped sword, before he backs away from the nobleborn knight who is the uncle of the lady Linara Lé Dic.
Not yet my lovelies, Percy thinks to himself with a glance down at the heavy canvas bag on the road, that he steps up next to once more.
The heavily armoured knight who was once the earl of the Lé Dic fief, after grinning again, clangs shut the visor of his full helm, with a slap of his right gauntleted hand.
"Together" quietly says the Harkonin army commander, sir Taevar, who glances to his left, and adds "You ready Olmard?".
"Ready" is the slightly slurred reply of the dazed sir Olmard, whose faceplate of his full helm is dented in.
"You ready Malmaré?" asks sir Taevar who looks over at the youngest of the landed knights from the Harkonin fief, who is bleeding from his left shoulder plate.
Sir Malmaré just grunts in reply, and grimaces behind the visor of his full helm as he grips his sword in two hands.
Baron Harkonin's brother inlaw, then looks at sir Balick, who like him. Has faced sir Percavelle Lé Dic before. Though in a tourney setting, not on the battlefield.
Seeing the Harkonin army commander looking his way, sir Balick slightly nods his head.
"Ready?" says sir Taevar to the knights Hamdell and Jarmick "And don't rush in by yourselves again" adds the Harkonin army commander when the last two landed knights from the fief to the east, nod that they're ready.
Glad that their soldiers have given them a wide berth. After all, when knights on opposing sides in battle face off against one another. It should be them to fight against each other. And let the common born soldiers get on with something else. In this case, the continued assault upon the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
"Now!" orders sir Taevar, which illicits a grin from sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who reaches back, and grabs something behind him on his belt, it's a hammer. And it's significantly heavier than the hand hammer he threw at sir Olmard.
Though the enemy who have surrounded him on the road, move quickly forward and attack him at once. Some of them move quicker than others. And again it's sir Hamdell and sir Jarmick who rush at him first, before their fellow landed knights who are vassals of the baron Raevar Harkonin.
Percy holding the haft of the hammer, basically choking it at where the haft goes into the head.
Punches it into the chest of sir Jarmick who he's turned to face.
The heavy hammer severely dents in the shiny breastplate of the poor knight from the south of the Harkonin fief. As the former earl of Lé Dic suspected, the armour is of inferior quality, and the dent is more of a rip, than a dent as sir Jarmick is knocked backwards onto the ground, and his sword is flung from his hands from the impact of hitting the road.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che who was once a paladin. Hunches forward, almost bending forward.
He grins as he's whacked in the back by the sword of sir Hamdell who has rushed him from behind.
The commoner who was made a knight by baron Harkonin during the war of succession. Yelps in surprise, more than anything, as his longsword is jarred from his hands, and goes flying after he struck the shield of Saint Mar-che that's on the back of the former earl of Lé Dic.
Sir Percavelle spins to his right, letting go of the haft of his hammer, and quickly catching it again further down the haft. Just before he slams it into the side of the wounded sir Malmaré, who came forward quickly. But is swinging his sword rather slowly in both his hands.
The youngest of the landed knights from the Harkonin fief, drops to the ground screaming. After he's hit in his wounded left shoulder by the former paladin's hammer. Crushing in the already damaged upper vambrace.
The heavily armoured knight in the order of Saint Mar-che who though is in his forties, is still incredibly strong, and more importantly, incredibly quick.
Spins away from the other three landed knights who serve the baron Harkonin. Though to be fair, the dazed sir Olmard, didn't actually come at him. He's wandered off more to the right across the road, instead of straight at him like sir Taevar and Balick have done.
"Get up you two!" demands the Harkonin army commander of the knights Hamdell and sir Malmaré who are on the ground.
Sir Taevar who has quickly backed away from the former earl of Lé Dic. Looks on in disgust at sir Hamdell who has a hole in his breastplate, and is trying to get up off the ground. While young sir Malmaré, is lying on the ground, on his right side, groaning in pain. As his left shoulder plate is badly damaged. He's probably got a shattered left shoulder to go with the blood that's flowing from it.
Meanwhile, sir Hamdell has scurried away to retrieve his longsword that went flying from his hands when he struck the back of the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che.
While sir Balick grabs the dazed sir Olmard, and turns him in the direction of the landed and ordered knight who is the uncle of the lady Linara Lé Dic.
Who sir Taevar sees, has lifted the faceplate of his full helm again, and is grinning as he looks at the noblemen from the Harkonin fief.
Mad fucking idiot, baron Harkonin's army commander and brother inlaw sourly thinks to himself as he looks at the heavily armoured knight who is in the order of Saint Mar-che.
And while sir Jarmick has got up off the ground, and staggered back, breathing heavily after getting knocked down, and getting part of his breastplate torn open. Sir Malmaré is still upon the ground, groaning in pain.
He screams in pain when the former earl of Lé Dic kicks him, causing him to roll onto his back.
Then with a grin at the other landed knights from the Harkonin fief, the former paladin swings his hammer down at the faceplate of the wounded nobleman on the ground.
The former knight of the first class smashes his hammer down a second time into the visor of sir Malmaré's full helm. The third time he does it, blood sprays forth from the badly smashed in faceplate of the young knight from the north of the Harkonin fief.
"Bit of a poor showing there young fellow" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic in his loud boisterous voice after he smashes his hammer down a fourth time into the faceplate of sir Malmaré, then stands up straight.
"I say you'll have to do a lot better next time" adds the former earl of Lé Dic, who then looks down at the youngest of the noblemen from the fief to the east, who have confronted him here on the road, on the south side of his family's castle, and he says "Well, it seems there won't be a next time for you young fellow wot".
The heavily armoured knight in the order of Saint Mar-che grins at the other landed knights, in particular sir Taevar, then he closes the faceplate of his full helm, after glancing down at the dead sir Malmaré, and murmurs "Like father, like son". Having now killed both the father and son in battle nearly twenty years apart.
As sir Jarmick mutters "Fuck" as he looks at the dead sir Malmaré on the ground. And even the dazed sir Olmard nervously swallows when he sees that the youngest of them is dead.
Sir Taevar after sourly smiling once again, shakes his full helmed head, and says to the others "When i mean together, i fucking mean together!".
"Now, now Taevar" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic who is grinning from ear to ear behind the visor of his helm "Don't be so tetchy now" adds the former knight of the first class, who continues with "It can't be helped that you're all incompetent ninnies, after all you lot hail from the stinking dung heap of a fief called Harkonin" and with a look at all of them, ending with sir Jarmick, he says "Not to mention inbred heathens who follow the despicable old ways of the dark druids".
"Damn you Jarmick, together!" shouts baron Harkonin's army commander as an enraged sir Jarmick yells incoherently in anger, and rushes sir Percavelle Lé Dic before the order to do so.
The heavily armoured knight in the order of Saint Mar-che grins as the poor knight from the very south of the Harkonin fief charges him.
With his shiny armour scratched up, sir Jarmick runs forward swinging his longsword at the former earl of Lé Dic. Who just stands there completely still, waiting for the nobleman from the fief across the border to the east.
Then the former paladin swings his right arm forward from where it's down beside him. Flicking his right gauntleted hand forward, flinging the hammer he's holding, out of his hand, and forward at the charging sir Jarmick.
Now all suits of armour that are made of plate. Have it virtually everywhere. Including what's known as the waist guard. Which protects the groin, or nether regions.
That maybe so, but still if you get hit directly there. It still hurts, especially if it's hit by a blunt weapon. Like a hammer, which has been thrown with a underhanded flick. With skill, by someone who has done it a lot, on both the tourney field, and on the battlefield.
It doesn't help that sir Jarmick's armour, though shiny, and polished to a high sheen before the battle for Lé Dic castle began, isn't exactly the best quality.
For he gasps in pain as he staggers to a halt, when the hammer thrown underhanded at him, hits him in the groin.
He doubles over, putting a hand down on the road, as vomit suddenly sprays from the air holes in the faceplate of his helm. He groans again as he gasps in a breath as he stands upright.
Then suddenly, his own longsword that he's dropped, is slammed into his chest, through the rent that's in the front of his breastplate.
"I do believe that's yours" says a grinning sir Percavelle Lé Dic who lets go of the hilt of the longsword he's just shoved into the chest of sir Jarmick "You don't want to be leaving it behind now do you?" adds the former knight of the first class.
As the landed knight from the very south of the Harkonin fief stands there, as blood now flows from the air holes in his visor, where only a couple of moments ago, vomit spewed from it.
Sir Jarmick goes to reach for his sword that's through his chest as he stands there. He lifts his hands up, they don't get far, before he topples over sideways to the ground, dead.
"Ahem" Percy clears his throat, then lifts up his faceplate, and with a grin plastered on his face, he says "Next?" as he looks at the four remaining knights from the Harkonin fief who are on the road.
Seeing that the former earl of Lé Dic is no longer holding a weapon, even though there are others on his belt, including his sword on one hip, and what looks to be a long dagger on the other. Sir Taevar shouts at the three remaining landed knights with him "Now!".
And for once, they all obey his command. And the four of them rush the ordered knight who is the uncle of the lady Linara Lé Dic. Even the dazed sir Olmard goes in the right direction as he runs at the heavily armoured knight who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che.
The former paladin who has turned to his left a bit, runs forward a few steps, then dives forward at one of the oncoming enemy. The former knight of the first class, dives forward beneath a hastily swung sword, and slams into the still unsteady legs of sir Olmard.
The dazed knight whose faceplate is partly smashed in, goes down with a bone crunching yelp. Sir Percavelle rolls to his right, and springs to his feet, and spins around, as the other three enemy knights, turn and come back at him again.
The former earl of Lé Dic didn't just dive forward at the legs of sir Olmard to knock him down. He also dived this way, because that's where his heavy canvas bag is on the road.
And the heavily armoured knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, grabs what's in the bag, and pulls them out, one in each gauntleted hand, as he gets to his feet and spins around to confront the other three landed knights from the Harkonin fief.
"Oh my beauties!" says a chortling sir Percavelle Lé Dic, as he lifts up what's in his left gauntleted hand, as sir Balick swings his broadsword with a savage swipe at him.
It's about the length of a sword, not as long as a broadsword, but a bit longer than a shortsword. It's basically an iron rod, and it has what look likes iron teeth about four inches in length, sticking out of it along it's length. It resembles a large iron hair comb if someone was to describe it.
But what it is, is sometimes called a swordcatcher. But it's known by it's more common name, a swordbreaker.
Sir Balick's blade slams in between two of the iron teeth of Percavelle Lé Dic's swordbreaker. Then the former paladin, yanks his left arm to his side, twisting his wrist as he does so. Sir Balick's broadsword is ripped out of his hands.
Then the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che shoves forward what he's holding in his right gauntleted hand.
The grip looks like the back end of a lance. It certainly has the round guard you find on wooden lances.
The grip is about two feet in length. While the other end of it, beyond the round guard. Is nearly two and half foot in length.
It resembles a poinard, it certainly looks like one. It's a relatively thin piece of metal, looking like a rod of stock that blacksmiths use.
Though it's actually highly tempered steel. And it has four sides, all flat, that ends in a tapered end. Like what a leather worker uses to punch holes in his work.
And that's what sir Percavelle uses it for, to punch holes in his work. As it easily punches a hole in the breastplate of sir Balick, goes through his chest, and out his back.
The former paladin pulls the poinard like weapon out of the chest of the landed knight who he disarmed with his swordbreaker.
The hole in the breastplate of sir Balick is only the size of a small coin. But that's all it needs to be, when the flat sided, tapered weapon went through his heart, killing him instantly.
As sir Balick drops to the ground dead, sir Taevar and sir Hamdell come to a halt, while the groaning sir Olmard tries to get up off the ground, but is unable to as his legs are either broken, or his knees have been dislocated after the former earl of Lé Dic dived into them.
Looking at the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, and what he's holding, the Harkonin army commander says in disgust "You cheat!".
Laughing as he flings away the broadsword in his swordcatcher, sir Percavelle Lé Dic lifts up the visor of his full helm, and says with a grin upon his face "That i am".
Then lifting up the unique, and totally un noble like weapons he's got in his hands, he says to sir Taevar, sir Hamdell, and the groaning sir Olmard on the ground "Next?" . . . . . .

The Homecoming 117.

Enemies...

As he sees them riding towards him. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic grins behind the visor of his full helm, then shrugs off the heavy canvas bag that's on his right shoulder. It lands on the trade road beside him, and he quickly reaches down, to make sure the top of the bag is open.
"Oh my beauties" murmurs sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he sees what remains in the heavy canvas bag, then the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che stands upright again, as he waits for the approaching riders.
"Move aside!" calls out sir Taevar the Harkonin army commander, to those stragglers on foot who have yet to reach the moat. As he and five other nobleborn riders from the fief to the east. Make their way up onto the trade road, here to the south of castle Lé Dic.
They ride around the third siege tower, that's on the road, and has been damaged beyond repair by the war machines within the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
Then sir Malmaré, who is the youngest of the nobleborn riders, who is infront of sir Taevar, and in the lead, calls out "There he is!".
Baron Harkonin's army commander, who thought he spotted who they're riding towards a few moments ago. Does indeed spot their target, who is now standing on the road, that leads to where the drawbridge would normally be here on the south side of castle Lé Dic.
"Percavelle" mutters sir Taevar, as he looks at the former earl of Lé Dic, just standing there without a care about the battle around him. Waiting for those mounted noblemen from the Harkonin fief riding towards him.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic stands there, ignoring the enemy who are close by. One of baron Harkonin's soldiers runs at the former paladin from behind. But he's dropped by a arrow that punches into the small of his back.
While another of the enemy soldiers, who thinks about throwing an axe at the heavily armoured knight standing there on the road. Staggers forward, then falls to his knees, then onto to his face, with a crossbow bolt in the side of his neck.
Up on the battlements along the south side of castle Lé Dic. Riley Hait the mercenary ranger has gathered together a handful of archers and crossbowmen to shoot at any of the enemy soldiers who get close to sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che is ignoring.
They're busy, as the former earl of Lé Dic who is standing on the trade road, is seemingly ignoring all that's around him. And is looking towards the group of enemy nobility, who are riding towards him.
Sir Percavelle or Percy as he's commonly referred to by the rest of the group, lifts an arm, then looks back over his shoulder, and shakes his head no. After he sees an arrow pass by the leading rider coming straight towards him.
Upon on the south wall parapet, above the main gates, the ranger Hait orders the archers and crossbowmen he's gathered, not to shoot at the enemy noblemen who are nearing the former knight of the first class. And instead to concentrate on any of the enemy soldiers, common born conscripts for the most part, who get too close to the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che.
Looking at the enemy riding towards him, sir Percavelle Lé Dic grins again as he sees them pulling back on the reins of their mounts to bring them to a stop.
The nobleman, who is the uncle of the lady Linara Lé Dic slightly shakes his full helmed head. For if he was one of his enemy, he would of continued riding, and ridden him down.
"Fools be here" murmurs sir Percavelle Lé Dic as the nobleborn riders, six in total, jump out of their saddles, and hit the ground.
Then the former earl of the Lé Dic fief, eschewing his normal bluster and frankly loud mouthed behaviour when he's confronted by anyone who he deems worthy of his attention.
Attacks straight out, as he knows the six noblemen from the Harkonin fief will probably want to have words with him. And they would expect him to verbally challenge them as well.
Not today chaps, the former paladin thinks to himself, as first he throws his pick axe, then throws his hand hammer. The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che is ambidextrous, a feat he learnt. And the hammer thrown from his left gauntleted hand, is thrown just as hard as the pick axe thrown from his right.
The pick axe, slams into the left shoulder plate of the leading enemy nobleman. Who from the tabbard he wears, is sir Malmaré. Percy doesn't know the young landed knight from across the border to the east. But he knew the youngster's father. Percavelle killed him in battle just after he became the earl of the Lé Dic fief.
And by the looks of it, the son is like the father. Rushing into combat, when he should of used caution against a far more experienced and skilled opponent.
As sir Malmaré hits the ground screaming in pain with the pick end of the axe, through his steel plate armour, and in his left shoulder.
Sir Taevar who knows to expect pretty much anything from sir Percavelle Lé Dic. Who he knows is not chivalrous at all. After all the man cheats in pretty much every tourney the Harkonin army commander has seen him in. So in actual battle, he'd be no different.
Dives to one side, and narrowly misses getting hit by the hammer the former earl of Lé Dic just hurled this way.
Not so, sir Olmard. Who was following sir Taevar. The hand hammer clangs off his face plate, and he staggers backwards, and falls on his rump, then onto his back. Where he groans as he tries to sit up, then get up feeling dazed.
"Spread out!" orders the commander of baron Harkonin's army as he scrambles to his feet. He knows taking on sir Percavelle Lé Dic head on, is a recipe for disaster. As the ordered knight, isn't like his landed contemporaries here in the east of the kingdom of Druvic.
He's trained to use multiple weapons, many of which he has on him. While those noblemen from the Harkonin fief he faces. Have only mastered a single weapon. Most likely the sword, which is the weapon of choice for pretty much any noble, in any kingdom.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che who once ruled the Lé Dic fief. Has also trained to fight multiple opponents at the same time. As he faces now.
While those nobles in baron Harkonin's army who confront him now, just over the moat from the south wall of his family's castle. Have only ever fought as a group in one previous battle. During the border conflict over eighteen months ago. Even during a tourney in a Lé Grande Melee it's every man for himself. Where alliances are brief, which usually end when one or the other turn on each other after defeating the opponent they ganged up on.
As sir Olmard tries to get up off the ground, and sir Balick hauls the injured sir Malmaré up off the trade road. The young landed knight from the north of the Harkonin fief groans in pain, and almost passes out from it, as the older, and more experienced sir Balick quickly yanks out the pick that punctured his left steel shoulder plate.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic doesn't move, and waits where he is as he watches the nobleborn enemy spread out around him. He only knows two of the six he faces. Sir Taevar and sir Balick. Both are younger than he is, but both are older and more experienced than the four other landed knights from the Harkonin fief who are with them.
Both sir Taevar the Harkonin army commander and sir Balick are competent fighting men. But no way should sir Taevar be the commander of baron Harkonin's army.
He's perfectly capable of being in battle. But he's no leader of men. Nor does he have any tactical nouce.
The baron should of had sir Dontast the knight in the order of Althilgah as his army commander. At least the ordered knight would of been trained to lead armies. Unlike sir Taevar, who only got the position because he's married to the younger sister of baron Harkonin.
The former earl of Lé Dic looks quickly at sir Balick, who says to sir Taevar "At the same time". The Harkonin army commander nods his full helmed head, then says to the other landed knights from the fief to the east "As Balick says, attack him at the same time" followed "He can't defend us all at once".
Grinning behind the faceplate of his full helm, the former paladin, who was demoted from the rank of first class in the order of Saint Mar-che. For going on a holy quest, without the sanction of his order. A quest to vanquish the ork, Dorc da Orc. But more importantly, for stealing the most valuable holy relic of his knightly order. The shield of Saint Mar-che, which at the moment is strapped to his back.
Knows that nobleborn enemy would normally be right. Attacking a superior opponent at once is the best option. But the former earl of Lé Dic, knows that's only relevant if you and your companions have been taught, and trained to fight like that.
Which he knows, none of those he's up against now. Have been taught to fight in a group as one, especially against someone like him. They're more than likely to be a danger to themselves, and to each other. Than they are to him.
"You're surrounded Percavelle" says sir Taevar as they circle the former earl of Lé Dic, who still hasn't moved, and continues to stand in the middle of the road "You're not getting away from this alive" adds the Harkonin army commander who is a little surprised the heavily armoured knight who is the uncle of the lady Linara Lé Dic hasn't said anything in reply.
After all the nobleborn knight who is both ordered and landed, is known across the kingdom for his overly loud voice, and his rather inflated opinion of himself. Not to mention his total disdain for anyone else's martial skills, especially in a confrontation against himself.
What are you up to you mad idiot? sir Taevar thinks to himself as he watches the former earl of Lé Dic, who is silent as he watches the noblemen from the Harkonin fief surround him.
Baron Harkonin's army commander reaches out to his left, and shoves the dazed sir Olmard that way, saying "Stay sharp Olmard".
Ah ha, so that's Olmard, sir Percavelle Lé Dic thinks to himself as he looks at the landed knight who he hit with his thrown hammer. Who is more than a little wobbly on his feet. Not to mention the faceplate of his full helm is dented in quite a bit.
Sir Olmard, who as a young squire over a decade ago. Applied to join the order of Saint Mar-che.
The former knight of the first class learnt of that particular application. And quietly disposed of it without the knowledge of the then knight general of the order of Saint Mar-che. For the simple reason Percy didn't want anyone from the Harkonin fief being a member of his order.
"He's not so great" says a knight who moves behind the former paladin "The great sir Percavelle indeed" adds the knight, who is unrecognizable to the former earl of the Lé Dic fief.
That particular knight from the Harkonin fief continues with "His reputation gets the better of him, if he thinks he can stand there against all six of us". "Quiet Hamdell" says sir Taevar the Harkonin army commander.
And that is Hamdell then, sir Percavelle Lé Dic thinks to himself with a slight nod of his full helmed head. He has heard of the baseborn knight, who was given his peerage by baron Raevar Harkonin during the civil war.
A former captain in the baron's army, who was knighted when one of the nobility in the south of the Harkonin fief died without an heir. And the baron gave his lands to the then captain Hamdell.
"Jarmick keep to my left" is what the former earl of Lé Dic hears sir Balick quietly say to the knight next to him on his left. Who wears a suit of armour, with steel polished to a high sheen.
Armour that the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che instantly recognises is better hanging up in a hall within a castle. Than to be worn in battle.
He'd always heard that the Jarmick family were poor. And living as they do in the very south of the Harkonin fief. They're probably the most devout of the enemy noblemen he's facing at the moment. And devout, as in a follower of the old ways. The druidic ways. And since he's from the south of the Harkonin fief. It will be the ways of the dark druids.
And that's six, sir Percavelle Lé Dic thinks to himself as all of the nobleborn, landed knights from the fief across the border to the east, who now surround him, are now identifiable to him.
The heavily armoured knight, who until now hasn't said a single word to any of the noblemen from the Harkonin fief, says "Rather pleasant day for a bit of a work out".
He looks at each and everyone of the six who have surrounded him. Who have now been given a wide birth by their soldiers who are assaulting the south wall of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
"Shame I've got no worthy opponents to face this fine, spring day" adds the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, who continues with  "Just lickspittles, common born upstarts, and dirt poor druid lovers from that backwoods quagmire, that Raevar stinking Harkonin rules have bothered to show up. And who have the audacity to face their better. I, the great sir Percavelle".
Behind the visor of his full helm, the former earl of the Lé Dic fief grins, as both sir Jarmick and sir Hamdell roar in outrage and protest. And the dazed sir Olmard, says in a confused, and bleary tone "What did he say?".
While an unsteady sir Malmaré sways from side to side, as he groans in pain, while blood seeps down from his left shoulder plate.
Ha! Fools alright! sir Percavelle Lé Dic thinks to himself in satisfaction, as both sir Hamdell and sir Jarmick, who are on opposite sides of him, rush him. While sir Taevar the Harkonin army commander, who for a brief moment, forgets he's now a follower of the old ways, and says "Wait! By the gods, damn you wait". As the landed knights sir Hamdell and sir Jarmick charge the former earl of the Lé Dic fief.
Who still stands there in the middle of the trade road, without moving. The only move he does make, is a glance down to his right. At the heavy, canvas bag beside him. To make sure that the top of it remains open. Seeing that it still is. The heavily armoured knight in the order of Saint Mar-che grins again.
Well Percy old chap, it's begun in earnest now, sir Percavelle Lé Dic thinks to himself in satisfaction as he's rushed by two of the enemy noblemen from the Harkonin fief.
And as both sir Jarmick and sir Hamdell draw their swords as they run at him. The former knight of the first class, who was once a paladin, finally moves again as he's attacked by his enemies . . . . . .