The Homecoming 142.

Camp Battle...

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