The Homecoming 109.

The Parapet...

On the east wall parapet, above the main gates on this side of castle Lé Dic. Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy looks away to the right and down.
The elf from the principality of Alínlae grins as he sees Dorc da Orc climbing the steps to the top of the wall.
The large ork is moving very gingerly, wincing and grimacing with every step he takes. Walking stiffly, not moving his neck, and with his arms out to his side at an angle.
"Stubborn idiot" mutters Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy in his native language as he watches the ork warleader, who refuses to take a healing potion. Considering he's probably got a broken back, and possibly a broken neck, after being hit off the top of the wall by a missile from an enemy ballista.
"Sir ah elf" says one of the soldiers nearby, Dalinvardél or Dalin as he's commonly referred to by the rest of the group, looks over at the soldier, who tells him "There's a lot of them climbing up onto the gatehouse across the moat now".
The spy Tanith looks across to the gatehouse, and sees quite a few Harkonin soldiers are on the roof over there, and are about to cross the housing, or canopy that goes over the drawbridge, which has been pulled back into the massive castle by a cleverly designed mechanism.
"Get ready" says Dalin to the soldier who spoke to him, and one other. The elven spy joins them, where a metal lever sticks out of the parapet, it's about three and half foot tall, and it's directly in the middle of the section of the parapet, above the gates.
Which coincidently is right above the housing of the canopy that runs above where the drawbridge normally is.
The three of them grab the lever and wait, and as more and more of the enemy climb up onto the gatehouse on the otherside of the moat. And start crossing the drawbridge canopy, the spy Tanith ducks down as do the two soldiers with him, as arrows and bolts shot by the enemy come their way.
Peeking over the top of the wall, between two merlons, Dalinvardél Tanith sees that there's about thirty of the enemy, crossing the peaked roof of the housing that covers the drawbridge.
"Now!" orders the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae, who along with the two Lé Dic soldiers, pull the metal lever that's sticking out of the parapet, towards them.
The massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for generations. Was primarily designed by a pair of wayward gnomes, who far from their homeland. Found themselves in the kingdom of Druvic. Working on many a building project. One of which was castle Lé Dic.
And though the massive castle was originally designed by a well known castle builder from the capital Leeabra. And predominantly built by a mixed host of dwarves and humans.
It was the pair of gnomes, brothers, originally from an island in the Hynralv Archipelago out in the Great Western Ocean off the coast of the Southlands. Who took over the design of castle Lé Dic for the first earl of the fief.
And gnomes being gnomes. They couldn't help themselves, and designed and built some gnomish styled features to the castle that would become the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
They built pipes into the walls, so that naphtha and the like, could be pumped into the water in the moat. They designed the four drawbridges, which could be retracted back into, and beneath the castle, as they're on small wheels, and rails that go far into the castle. And can be withdrawn while the gates are closed.
And though the drawbridges have a cover, or canopy, or what's commonly referred to as housing over the top. Which the two gnome brothers didn't want, but the first earl of Lé Dic did. Since it was the style at the time the castle was constructed.
The two gnomes relented, and had them built. Though with a surprise, as they immediately saw a drawbridge with a canopy, to be a liability during a battle.
So, now, in the present. When Dalinvardél Tanith and the pair of soldiers with him, pull the metal lever in the middle of the parapet back. The gnomish design feature surprises the thirty or so Harkonin soldiers crossing the drawbridge housing, which is only slightly smoke damaged by the fire upon the water earlier.
The gnomish brothers designed it so that none of the pipes in the walls are too close to the drawbridges and their housing. Because it wouldn't be much of a surprise if the housing was burnt down by naphtha in the moat.
There's a shuddering clunk from somewhere beneath the parapet. And the spy Tanith slightly frowns as nothing immediately happens, for he knows what to expect, as sir Percavelle Lé Dic has described to him what to expect.
"Well, doesn't look like" is what Dalin gets out, just a moment before the gnomish design of the drawbridge housing, surprises the Harkonin soldiers who are crossing it from the gatehouse on the otherside of the moat.
The roof of the canopy, suddenly spilts in two at the peak, and folds inwards and down. Those thirty or so Harkonin soldiers quickly crossing it, some of them carrying short ladders.
Drop down to the water in the moat below. They hit the water, and they hit something else.
The rows of long metal spikes, just below the surface of the water. There's two rows of them, and they're directly beneath where the drawbridge would be. They're near impossible to see at the best of times, as the water is so murky, especially at this time of year, the beginning of spring, after a fairly cold winter here in the east of the kingdom of Druvic.
Those who are lucky enough, die instantly as they hit the water and the long, rusty metal spikes sticking out of the bottom of the moat.
Those not so fortunate, are skewered on the spikes, through a leg, or an arm, and sometimes through the abdomen. Not dying immediately, but having to endure a slow and painful death in the water as the battle continues to rage above and around them.
Only one of the thirty or so Harkonin soldiers crossing the drawbridge housing to plunge into the water below it is truly lucky. He hits the water, and misses the rows of spikes.
He swims out from beneath the now, open housing or canopy of the drawbridge. And heads back to the bank that the Harkonin army is attacking from.
He's about to get out of the water, when he's struck in the back by a yard long shaft, obviously shot from a longbow, which propels him forward with a fair amount of force into the water.
"One of my last arrows" murmurs the spy Tanith after shooting the lone survivor of those Harkonin soldiers who were crossing the drawbridge housing, when it opened up beneath them, plunging them into the water below, and the hidden spikes just under the surface of the water.
Having got rid of a fair amount of the enemy in one go, Dalinvardél Tanith calls out to the defenders along the east wall parapet "Push them off!".
While one of the two soldiers who helped pull the lever with him, calls out "For Lé Dic!". Which is echoed loudly by a number of the soldiers and townsfolk who are on the battlements along this side of the massive castle that's been the home of the nobleborn Lé Dic family for centuries.
"Keep shooting at that tower!" calls out the spy Tanith to the nearby ballista crew. There's one Harkonin siege tower remaining on this side of the castle. The other one is still smouldering at the waterline, where it caught fire earlier in the moat when the naphtha was lit.
Dalin ducks down, as one of the catapults down in the south courtyard behind them. Shoots off a load of burning barrels of pitch, that barely gets over the top of the wall. As the crews have shortened their range, by rolling the war machines back as far as possible.
As the barrels of pitch land amongst the enemy on the edge of the bank across the moat, the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae, tells one of the two soldiers "Go and tell them to get ready to throw the firepots if it gets close" he points at the remaining Harkonin siege tower, that's getting pushed into the moat and adds "Even if they get that it close, we'll be in for a hell of a time".
The soldier nods, then his eyes go wide as he looks beyond Dalin. The soldier backs up, quickly turns, and hurries away.
As he does, the elven spy rolls his eyes as he knows who it is that's approaching him from behind. His enhanced hearing tells him, even before he turns and looks.
Dalinvardél Tanith slightly shakes his hooded head, when he turns and finds a furious looking Dorc da Orc waking along the parapet this way.
The large ork still isn't moving all that freely, and is still grimacing and wincing with every step he takes. He's also growling and muttering to himself in the totally incomprehensible language of the orks as he does so.
The ork warleader briefly stops to pull an enemy arrow out of his face. Dalin suspects Dorkindle is hissing in pain, more from lifting his right arm up to take a hold of the arrow that's in his cheek. Than actually pulling the shaft out.
The ork weaponsmith flicks the arrow away, and continues on his slow, methodical walking towards the elven spy who is in command of the defence along the east side of castle Lé Dic.
Dalin shakes his head no to the youngster from the town of Massic who has been loading his crossbow for him, who has just offered the weapon to the elven spy. He only has two bolts left, and the spy Tanith wants to save them until later.
With his shoulders up close to his ears, and with a severe lack of movement, with his arms sticking out to his sides. Not to mention a thunderous looking scowl of both anger and pain upon his broad, green, feral looking face. The warleader of the ork race comes to a stop infront of the elven spy.
Dorkindle, who would very well like to slap Dalin, but swinging his arms might be out of the question at the moment, because reaching up to his face a few moments ago to rip out an arrow that was in his right cheek. Hurt like hell, not that the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks would admit that to anyone.
So the large ork settles for growling at the elf from the principality of Alínlae. Slightly shaking his head again, then pointing further along the wall behind Dorkindle. Dalin calls out to some soldiers and townsfolk "Get that ladder off the wall!". As the top of an enemy scaling ladder comes up against the top of east wall of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for a number of generations.
Then looking up at the growling ork warleader standing infront of him, the spy Tanith tells him "Dorc just take that healing potion" followed by "You're no good to us if you can't move about freely".
The elven spy who served in one of the more prominent noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae then ducks down again, as the large ork, who isn't moving that well, probably because he's got a broken back. Becomes a magnet for enemy bolts and arrows. Because he's just standing there, growling at Dalinvardél Tanith.
As a bolt hits the large ork in the right arm, and another one pings off the back of his rock hard head, Dorc da Orc growls at the spy Tanith, then says "Get fucked" in response to Dalin once again telling him to take the healing potion.
The big, burly ork from the bottom of the world then adds "Me tells you, that stuff tastes like fucken shit".
The elf from the principality of Alínlae refrains from making a smart ass comment about the ork weaponsmith being a shit eater anyway. And instead says "Come on it's not that bad" followed by "I've had them, and no way does it taste like shit".
Infact it's tasteless from what the spy Tanith has experienced from the healing potions he's had.
"Dorc fucken knows when something takes like shit" angrily mutters the large ork "That's for sure" dryly murmurs Dalin in the elven language.
Then Dorkindle, as enemy arrows and bolts fly all around him, says "That cunty stuff is yucky as fuck".
Dalinvardél Tanith slightly frowns, as it seems the ork warleader genuinely believes that the healing potions he has, taste disgusting.
"Here, give it here" says the elven spy who holds a hand out as he stays low behind a merlon as the large ork is targeted by a fair few of the enemy archers and crossbowmen.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, fumbles in his belt, grimacing and wincing in pain as he moves his right hand about.
The ork warleader eventually takes a hold of a tiny glass vial from a slot in the top of his belt, then he grunts "Here cunt" as he passes it to the spy Tanith.
Dalin quickly undoes the stopper, and dips the tip of a little finger into the healing potion, then tastes it.
"See fucken told ya" says the large ork as the elf from the principality of Alínlae frowns after tasting the healing potion Dorkindle just gave him.
"Tastes like" says Dalinvardél Tanith, who is interrupted by the ork weaponsmith, who says "Shit".
No, actually carrots, the elven spy thinks to himself, who then silently adds, and broccoli i think?
Then the spy Tanith suddenly burts into laughter as he realises what Helbe the elven thief, who concocted the healing potions that everyone in the group has, with the exception of lord Farque. Has done to the one's he's given to the warleader of the ork race.
"What's so fucken funny ya cunt?" asks the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world.
Then as Dorc da Orc grows as an arrow hits him in the side of the neck, and he has to reach up and pull it out. Which hurts like hell to do so. Not the actual pulling the arrow out of his neck, but lifting his hand up to take hold of the arrow.
The elven spy who is still laughing, says "Here, take one of mine" Dalinvardél Tanith continues with "It's got no taste at all" as he hands a small glass vial of healing potion to the large ork.
Realising that prince Helbenthril Raendril has made the ork warleader's healing potions to taste like vegetables. Which the big, burly ork thoroughly despises.
The elven spy tells him "Go on, it's perfectly fine" as Dorkindle suspiciously eyes the tiny glass vial that Dalin has given him.
"Fuckheads" growls Dorc da Orc as he has to completely turn to one side to look at the Harkonin army attacking this side of castle Lé Dic, one of whom has just shot him in the face with an arrow.
Then with that arrow hanging from his chin, the ork weaponsmith turns back to face the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae. Then quickly sniffs at the glass vial he's holding,
The large ork grunts in surprise at what he smells, or more precisely, what he doesn't smell. Then the ork warleader, wincing as he has to lift his left hand to his mouth, swallows the healing potion, glass vial and all.
A moment later, and Dorkindle's massive shoulders drop, and he tips his head from side to side, then after swinging his arms in couple of big circles. The big, burly ork grins, then chuckles.
"Better?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith "Better" replies Dorc da Orc, who now without a broken back after taking the magical healing potion, he turns to face the attacking Harkonin army, and says "Right you fucken cunts, 'bout time for you to come and get some" he then shouts "Fucken get some!" . . . . . .