The Homecoming 131.

Battlefield...

Looking over to the south wall parapet, Tamric Drubine sees that a number of the enemy have topped the wall towards the far end, well the end furthest away from where he is on the west wall parapet.
The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin then looks towards this end of the south wall, which out of the four walls of the castle, is under the heaviest attack so far from the enemy.
The former heir to a previous knight of castle Drubine, sees one or two of the enemy getting on to the battlements on the south wall, nearer to the southwest corner tower.
But as soon the defenders upon the battlements there cut them down. They're replaced by another of the soldiers in baron Harkonin's army who has been able to get to the top of the south wall.
Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's often referred to by the rest of the group. Knows that the tower on the southwest corner is safe unless the enemy bring up a battering ram to the top of the south wall.
Or a lot of them have heavy axes to smash in the iron banded doors that open up to the parapets.
So he sends a couple of archers and a crossbowman further south along the west wall parapet.
So that they can shoot at any of the enemy who gain the top of the south wall, near the southwest tower.
There's already a a pair of crossbowmen and two archers on top of the tower. Which is about twenty five feet higher than the fifty tall walls of castle Lé Dic.
The nobleborn teenager who is in command of the defence of the west side of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
Sees that the four on top of the tower are busy shooting down at the enemy south of the wall, either on the moat or across it on the otherside.
Any little thing he does, he knows will help the defence along the heavily attacked southern side of the castle.
And as a small boulder flung from one of the catapults down in the large south courtyard barely gets over the south wall, passing over some of the defenders by just a couple of yards, on it's way towards the enemy.
He wonders if what little he can do will make that much of a difference on the south side of castle Lé Dic.
He hopes so, as he looks away, and looks to the west. At the town of Massic, which is just across the moat on this side of the massive castle.
Tamric Drubine slightly shakes his head as he looks at the town, nearly half of which has burnt to the ground.
It's only the half closest to castle Lé Dic that's relatively untouched.
But even then, some of the houses and buildings in the part of town closest to the massive castle, are smouldering, or have licks of flames on them in places.
Tam knows that if it wasn't for him, and the others with bows and crossbows along the west wall parapet. Then all of Massic would of been burnt down by now.
As a little bit of a breeze picks up on this clear, spring day. Sending smoke from the burning town, across the western side of castle Lé Dic.
The nobleborn teen from the kingdom of Sarcrin looks back over to the south side of the massive castle, to continue to watch the push from the enemy against that side of what's been the home of the Lé Dic family for centuries.
"Shit" mutters Riley Hait the mercenary ranger, who then quietly adds "Shit, shit, shit". After he sees a defender a bit further along the top of wall to the left of him.
Get knocked forward off the wall, by a burning barrel of pitch. One of a trio that was shot from a catapult down in the large courtyard behind them.
Down there, Tovis the war engineer is having the depleted crews of that catapults and trebuchets.
Fling their loads to as short of a range as possible. So that they can hit the enemy down on the moat, or just across it.
Shooting at that short of a range with war machines. You're bound to make a few mistakes.
As just happened with one of the Lé Dic soldiers here along the south wall parapet getting hit by a burning barrel shot from a catapult down in the large courtyard on this side of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for many generations.
The mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen after shooting off an arrow he has to his bow.
Looks away to the left across the moat, when the Lé Dic crossbowman beside him, here above the gates on the south side of the massive castle, says "There, over there".
The ranger Hait looks to where the crossbowman is pointing to. And he slightly grins at what he sees.
Dorc da Orc has come around to the southern side of castle Lé Dic, and he's amongst the enemy on the otherside of the moat.
"How did he get there?" asks the crossbowman, the mercenary ranger who was raised and trained by some of the elven warders in his homeland of Envadarlen, was just wondering that as well.
Then the ranger Hait, who in actuality is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to find himself inhabiting the body of Riley Hait.
Looks directly across the moat from the main south gates, to where he sees sir Percavelle Lé Dic on the road that leads to the massive castle that's the ancestral home of his family.
"The same way sir Percavelle got across the moat i guess" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman in answer to the crossbowman's question.
However the large ork got across the water, which the mercenary ranger knows he hates more than just about anything else in life. And how he made his way around to the south of castle Lé Dic, when he was previously around on the eastern side of the massive castle.
He sees the ork warleader wrecking havoc amongst baron Harkonin's army, who have yet to get onto the water, as they make a concentrated push against this side of castle Lé Dic.
Sending basically everyone in their army, who was on this side of the massive castle to the moat and the south wall, as they continue their assault upon the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family that began this morning.
"Hmmmm" the ranger Hait murmurs to himself as he takes an arrow from his quiver and puts it to his elven made longbow, as he continues to watch the big, burly ork. Who is working his way along the bank of the moat, heading towards the road.
"Ooohhhh shit" murmurs Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson as he looks quickly from Dorc da Orc, then to where the former earl of Lé Dic is on the road fighting the enemy.
The mercenary ranger who hails from the elven principality of Envadarlen sourly smiles as he can guess where the large ork is going. It doesn't take a genius to work out that the ork weaponsmith is heading straight for the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che.
Riley Hait steps back to the rear of the parapet, turns to his left as he draws back on his elven made longbow, takes careful aim, then let's the string go, and the shaft fly.
Along the top of the battlements, towards a Harkonin soldier who has topped the wall, on the third of the parapet closest to the southeast corner tower of the massive castle.
As there's quite a few of them are on the parapet in that direction.
The arrow narrowly misses a number of defenders upon the wall. Before it slams into the chest of the enemy soldier, knocking him backwards into another of baron Harkonin's men. Sending that one off the back of the parapet, to the courtyard over forty five feet below.
The ranger Hait then looks back across the moat, to where the large green figure of the ork warleader can be seen making his way along the bank, heading towards the road.
"Get in the water ya cunt!" yells Dorc da Orc who backhands an enemy soldier, whacking him in the chest, sending him into the water.
The large ork retrieves his axe out of the chest of another Harkonin soldier lying on the ground. Then kicks a third, who is trying to crawl away.
The ork weaponsmith kicks that enemy soldier into the moat to the right.
Dorkindle growls as water splashes, getting onto his big, black boots, and his shins.
The big, burly ork who wears the grubbiest looking knee length pants imaginable. Has a look of utmost disgust upon his broad, green, feral looking face at getting water on his boots and legs.
The warleader of the ork race who hails from the southern polar region of the world. Who hates water as much as anything in life.
Looks along this side of the moat, after glancing up at the top of the south wall of castle Lé Dic, where he sees a number of the enemy have gained a foothold.
The large ork puts his hammer back on the front of his weapon harness. Picks up an enemy shortsword from the ground. Flings it sideways without looking across the moat, where it hits a couple of Harkonin soldiers on one of the rafts on the water.
Then he grunts as he spots who he has caught wind of on this side of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
"Me see you cunt" mutters Dorc da Orc as he sees the tall, heavily armoured figure on the road about seventy yards away.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, then sets off again, at a jog. Running over anyone who gets in his way, as makes his way towards the road. There's a mix of a grin, and a scowl upon his broad, green, brutish looking face as heads straight towards the heavily armoured figure on the road, who though is surrounded by Harkonin soldiers. Is sending them flying back through the air, as quickly they surround him.
"Take that you base born villain" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who could do with another break, so he take a drink of water as his voice is once again a bit hoarse.
The heavily armoured knight kicks a Harkonin soldier between the legs. Dropping the man from the fief across the border to east, to his knees.
Where the former earl of Lé Dic, slaps him across the face with the sword of knockdown.
The kneeling enemy soldier, goes cartwheeling sideways across the ground, smashing into the legs of some of his fellow soldiers in baron Harkonin's army.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che is just about to whack another of the enemy with the sword of knockdown. When all of a sudden he hears an all too familiar roar, which causes him to roll his eyes, then mutter "Oh by Narille, not that big, smelly cretin".
The nobleborn knight smashes the shield of Saint Mar-che into one of the enemy. Knocking him to the ground, and kicks another in the right knee, which drops him too.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's more commonly referred to by the rest of the group. Knees that Harkonin soldier in the face, before he spins to his left.
The uncle of lady Linara Lé Dic sourly smiles behind the visor of his full helm, as he watches who is running towards him on the road.
Bowling, and knocking over anyone unlucky enough to get in his way. The former paladin hopes he trips over and breaks his neck, no such luck as he runs onto the road.
"Be gone beast!" shouts Percy who continues with "I the greatest knight in all of the world, doth not need your foul stench reeking up the place".
Then the heavily armoured knight whacks his magical sword of knockdown into the side of one of the Harkonin soldiers he's just dropped.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che grins with pleasure as he does so.
Dorc da Orc growls "Cunt" as he hops to one side to avoid an enemy soldier who comes tumbling towards him along the ground at speed.
After the Harkonin soldier goes flying by him, the large ork glares at sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who he can't actually see grinning at him. But Dorkindle suspects he's grinning behind the faceplate of his full helm.
The ork warleader gets hit in the face with a quarrel, which causes him to wince as he yanks it out of his right cheek.
The former knight of the first class says "Like i said you foul, stinky beast, i the great sir Percavelle, does not need your assistance" he pauses before adding "You hulking dullard".
"Huh, a hulking fucken what?" mutters the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, who kicks a Harkonin soldier who gets too close, sending him sliding backwards across the road.
And using his axe, lobs the head off another. The body drops, spraying blood from the neck everywhere as it hits the ground.
"You silly fucken knight cunt" says Dorkindle, who after jumping to one side again, when the former earl of Lé Dic sends another enemy soldier tumbling sideways at speed, towards him.
He uses his bloody axe to point at the south wall of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the heavily armoured knight, and tells him "Me needs to fucken get up there ya cunt".
"Whatever for?" asks the former paladin, who is a little disappointed he hasn't been able to hit the large ork with any of the Harkonin soldiers he has sent flying towards him, who he's hit with the sword of knockdown.
The landed and ordered knight who is the uncle of lady Linara Lé Dic, looks back across the moat, and up to the top of the south wall of his family's castle, to where the big, burly ork is pointing.
"Drats" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic as he sees that there's a fair few of the enemy on the parapet of the south wall. Particularly the third, nearest to the southeast corner tower.
The knight in the order of Saint Mar-che, looks quickly down the road, in the direction he was heading. To where sir Taevar, the enemy army commander fled to.
The former paladin, then grimaces as he looks back to his family's castle, as the large ork growls at him "Find me a fucken way up there cunt".
As an arrow clangs off the shield of Saint Mar-che, the heavily armoured knight looks quickly across the moat, to one side of the main gates on this side of the massive castle that's been his family's home for centuries.
Percy who immediately gave up on the idea of climbing one of the enemy scaling ladders to the battlements of castle Lé Dic. For the simple reason he doubts one of them could hold the considerable weight of the large ork.
Sets off back to the moat, saying "Well come along beast, I've no time to waste, waiting for you".
Dorkindle follows after the heavily armoured knight, growling "You not gonna fucken swim are you cunt?".
The former earl of Lé Dic doesn't understand what the big, burly ork says next, as he growls something unintelligible in the language of his race.
And though the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che would like nothing better, than to have the large ork swim. He knows that speed is vital now, and says to the following ork warleader "A raft you big green, smelly buffoon" followed by "When need one of those rafts".
"What the fuck for?" asks the huffing and puffing ork weaponsmith as he follows behind the heavily armoured knight.
"To get across the moat of course you foul smelling devil beast" says Percy, who points with the sword of knockdown, to where he wants to go.
Dorc da Orc frowns, then grunts as he spots what the former earl of Lé Dic has just pointed at. It's about thirty feet to one side of the main gates in the south wall of castle Lé Dic. It's the sally port . . . . . .