The Homecoming 20.

A Tourney...

Looking over at the stands where a lot of the nobles and others are sitting, Lisell Maera glances at Tamric Drubine and says to him in elven "Let's sit there" as she nods to the stands that have been erected along part of the field.
Lifting an eyebrow, Tamric Drubine says in the elven language "You do know that's for nobles?". "Which you are" dryly says the attractive teenager from the city-state of Vexil.
The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin wryly smiles, then shrugs his shoulders and says "Okay".
The two teens turn to Shur Kee the monk and wish him good luck for his event which is about to begin. Then after telling Riley Hait the mercenary ranger where they're going, Tam and Lis make their way over to the stands.
"There's a few empty spaces next to Percy" quietly says Lisell Maera in the elven language, she continues with "Go there". Tamric Drubine who is infront, nods his head as they approach the stands.
A couple of soldiers say "M'lord" to the nobleborn teen from the kingdom of Sarcrin, and let him pass. They let Lis pass too, since she's with him. And the fact she's one of the traveling companions of their former earl.
Besides, she isn't the only non noble in the stands, there's a handful of others already seated with the nobility of the fief. Though they all hold positions of importance within the Lé Dic fief.
The stands are a three tiered construction, and they hold just over sixty people. The two teenagers make their way to the second tier, and work their way along it to where sir Percavelle is sitting behind, and above his niece, the lady Linara Lé Dic.
The heavily armoured knight greets the two teenagers in his usual boisterous manner, then after they say hello to him, the nobleborn knight falls silent as he looks between those on the first tier infront of him, and those out on the field who are about to take part in the first event of the tourney itself.
Lisell Maera and Tamric Drubine share a look at the reticent manner of the former earl of Lé Dic, who is usually talkative, often about himself. But at the moment seems to be silent for some reason.
Looking down infront of them, both teenagers see that to the left of young girl who is the ruler of the fief, sits her governess, lady Hollis. Who is the former sister inlaw of sir Percavelle Lé Dic. To her left sits sir Galmot, the commander of the Lé Dic army.
While to the right of lady Linara, sits the young girl's maternal grandfather, lord Milburn.
The two teens, and most of everyone else in the stands are briefly distracted by some cheering from away to their right. In the part of the field near the road, where the games are taking place.
There they see the large, green figure of Dorc da Orc coming this way. The ork warleader who is followed by a group of people, is carrying a side of his auroch that he won earlier, which has barely been cooked. The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks also has a barrel of ale, which he's drinking from.
Lis and Tam faintly smile as they hear sir Percavelle Lé Dic mutter "Fat green demon" when he sees Dorkindle walking in this direction. The large ork looks their way, grins when he sees the two teenagers, and scowls at the heavily armoured knight they're sitting next to.
And though people are standing to either side of the stands, he makes his way around to the otherside of the lists. Opposite the stands, where the vast majority of the crowd are standing, who are gathering as the tourney is about to get underway.
And though quite a few people are still watching the games that are taking place near the road end of the field, most are moving to where they can watch the tourney.
With a sour looking smile upon his face as he looks at the large ork opposite them, sir Percavelle Lé Dic looks away from Dorkindle, and instead looks at the competitors of the first event of the tourney.
Spotting someone, the former paladin in the order of Saint Mar-che says to the teenagers seated beside him "I do say, is the monk fellow Shur Kee in this here wrestling competition?".
"He is" is the response of Tamric Drubine as the three of them spot the slight, short, statured figure of Shur Kee the monk amongst his much larger competitors, who are all soldiers in the army of Lé Dic, a couple of whom are even officers of noble birth.
"Well would you imagine that" murmurs the former earl of Lé Dic, who suddenly grins, then adds "Fine fellow that, the little chap".
Sir Percavelle calls over a page from nearby, and quietly talks to him, pointing out a nobleman at the right end of the tier they're on. A nobleman who is apparently a notorious spendthrift, who is busy making bets with those sitting beside him.
The heavily armoured knight who was once the earl of this very fief, hands the page his coin pouch and tells him to make a bet with the nobleman at the right end of the tier. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic puts all his coins on Shur Kee the monk, not just to win his opening bout, but the entire event.
Tam and Lis look at one another when they hear this, then they quickly hand over their own coin pouches to the page before he moves off, and they tell him to add that them to Percy's wager.
The former paladin watches the page place the bet, and when the nobleman, one sir Parvin, looks his way and grins, then nods to the bet. Sir Percavelle quietly chuckles, which one doesn't hear too often, as he usually laughs quite loudly. Both teenagers sitting beside him, can't help but think of that quiet chuckle being quite sinister, or at least devious.
"Capital, capital" says a grinning sir Percavelle Lé Dic who rubs his hands together in anticipation. He along with Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera don't have to wait long, as Shur Kee the monk is in one of the very first bouts of the first event of the tourney, the unarmed combat.
Crushed chalked has been sprinkled in a couple of large circles on the ground on the otherside of the lists in the field. The lists being a series of large posts driven into the ground at an equal distance between them. Which is used for a later event, the joust. Where the competitors in that event, all nobles, will ride on opposite sides of it at each other, trying to unhorse one another with a fourteen foot long lance.
The two circles are used at the same time, with a bout of unarmed combat in each one. Unarmed combat that's usually wrestling as that's what the soldiers taking part in it, prefer to do. And though occasional punches are thrown, and even kicks. Wrestling is what takes place, as you have to either push your opponent out of the circle, or pin him on his back to the ground for a a count of three. Or if that fails, knock them out so they can't continue. To get a win in a bout.
Shur Kee is in the second bout in the circle on the right, and as the acolyte in the order of Bru Li steps forward into the circle, when one of the judges, a veteran soldier in the army waves him forward.
Lady Linara Lé Dic looks back at her uncle sitting behind her, and says "Uncle, isn't that small man in those strange looking clothes one of your friends?".
"Indeed he is Linny" says sir Percavelle in response to his niece. Sitting next to the lady of the fief, lord Milburn slightly frowns at the way in which the former earl addressed the young girl who rules the fief. Both teenagers, especially Tam notice this reaction of the older nobleman sitting beside his granddaughter.
"A holy man from lands afar" says the former paladin in the order of Saint Mar-che, who then broadly grins, and adds "A fine fellow he is too".
Both Lisell Maera and Tamric Drubine wryly smile as the former earl of Lé Dic never complements anyone, unless he knows he'll get something out of it.
And the orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury, and the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin know exactly what Percy is going to get out of this. A substantial return on the bet he's made with sir Parvin, who is joking with those he's sitting with, as they compare the size of Shur Kee to the much larger soldier he's up against in his bout.
From across the field where most of the crowd has gathered to watch the first event of the tourney, Dorc da Orc can be heard shouting "Fuck that cunt up Shur Kee!".
Once both competitors are in the circle, and the short, statured monk bows at the waist to the soldier he's up against in this bout. The judge yells "Fight!" at the two of them.
The much larger soldier, who is just over six foot tall, and easily has an extra fifty pounds of weight on him compared to the acolyte in the oder of Bru Li.
Moves forward to grab the smaller man by the shoulders and neck, the basic wrestling move that most of the competitors in the unarmed combat will do.
Not Shur Kee, who quickly steps forward, grabs the right arm of his competitor, turning as he does so. Ending up, with his back to the soldier, the physical adept who has sunk down at the knees, and in the hips so that he's much lower than he was just a brief moment before.
Flips the much larger man over his right shoulder. The soldier hits the ground, back first with a thud, with the breath knocked out of him as he groans. Then Shur Kee lightly puts a sandled foot upon the breathless and immobile soldier's chest, and he looks over at the judge, then clears his throat.
The veteran soldier who is judging the bout, blinks in surprise, and after a moments hesitation, as he can't quite believe what just happened, he counts to three.
The short statured monk, takes his foot off the soldier on the ground, he steps back, bows to his defeated opponent, and bows to the judge of the bout,  then turns around and walks out of the circle.
"Bloody hell, if i had not of seen it, i wouldn't of believed it" says sir Galmot, who voices what many who have just seen what's happened, are thinking. The commander of the Lé Dic army then dryly adds "I don't think he's exactly a normal holy man".
While lord Milburn briefly glances back up at sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who ignores him. Though both Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera sees the slight look of discontent on the face of lady Linara's grandfather on her mother's side.
The nobleborn knight who is the former earl of Lé Dic, is looking to the right end of the tier they're on, where a stunned looking sir Parvin sits. The nobleman who is of a similar age as sir Percavelle, eventually turns and looks at the former paladin. Who he finds with a large grin upon his face as he looks at him . . . . . .

The Homecoming 19.

A Festival...

The games have got underway, and sir Percavelle Lé Dic makes his way from the massive castle that's been his family's home for centuries.
The heavily armoured knight makes his way down to the tourney field in the company of his niece Linara and other members of his extended family, and the nobility of the fief.
As they head down the road towards the busy field on this cool, but sunny winter's morning. People make way for the young lady of the fief and those with her.
And as they near the field, the former earl of Lé Dic, who is holding his full helm tucked under his right arm, sourly smiles as he spots someone on the field, taking part in one of the first events of the games. It's pretty hard to miss him after all.
"Look uncle" says lady Linara Lé Dic, the nobleborn girl continues with "There's your friend the big green fellow".
"I wouldn't exactly call that beast a friend" loudly mutters sir Percavelle Lé Dic, who sourly smiles again when his niece says "Come uncle, let's go watch him".
The nobleborn knight loudly sighs, then makes his way with his niece and the others to the side of the field where the first events of the games are taking place.
People move out of the way for the noble party, and the former paladin of the first rank in the order of Saint Mar-che spots the rest of the group nearby, also watching the event that's taking place at the moment.
Sir Percavelle, or Percy to those that know him, even though it's a nickname he deplores. Who is usually oblivious to everything around him, and that's on purpose too.
Spots the mercenary ranger, and temporary leader of the group, Riley Hait looking this way. The heavily armoured knight nods in reply to the head nod from the mercenary ranger.
Then Percy looks over at Dorc da Orc who is out on the field with the other competitors in his event. The former earl of Lé Dic rolls his eyes, as he knows this is a foregone conclusion.
The nobleborn knight might not like the ork warleader, but he'll freely admit that nothing will stop the large ork from winning the event that's just got underway.
"Hell!" says sir Galmot who is to the left of sir Percavelle Lé Dic, the nobleman who is the commander of the army of the fief continues with "He lifted that up with ease" followed by "I had always heard orks were strong, but i had no idea".
"If you're going to make a wager as others are doing" says sir Percavelle as he gestures around at those, both noble and commoner, who are making bets "I'd put all your coins upon the green fiend over yonder" adds the heavily armoured knight, who will freely admit that no one will beat Dorc da Orc in this event.
"I think i will" murmurs the army commander as they watch the strongman event, where the large ork from the polar region at the bottom of the world has just lifted up a barrel, pack full of rocks, with ease, with one hand.
The other competitors if they didn't struggle, some not even able to pick it up off the ground. They could barely lift it off the ground for a few moments. And none of them are exactly small, all standing over six foot, with a couple of big men over six and a half feet tall, weighing well in excess of three hundred pounds.
But none of them are a match for the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks. Who in the next part of the event, does it with ease once again.
The watching crowd who have figured out that the big, burly ork who stands seven and half foot tall, and weighs over seven hundred and fifty pounds. Is immensely strong. Start cheering for him.
Which causes sir Percavelle to sourly smile. A couple of people who know the large ork's name, start chanting "Dorc, Dorc" over and over again, which a lot of the rest of the crowd start chanting too.
As he and his five fellow competitors in the strongman competition, each pick up an anvil from the ground when the sergeant at arms in control of this event, tells them to, then shouts at them "Go!".
This part of the event you're supposed to lift an anvil, and get it to thirty yards away, where a pair of soldiers stand at a marked off line of white chalk that has been drawn on the winter green grass.
Some of the competitors struggle to just pick up the heavy anvil, let alone carry it the thirty yards. Not so Dorc da Orc, who is drinking from a barrel of ale. Who puts it down, burps and picks up the anvil with one hand.
Dorkindle doesn't even bother carrying the anvil to the thirty yard line, he throws it instead, loudly grunting as he spins in a circle a few times on the spot, before he sends the anvil hurtling through the air.
The two soldiers at the chalk line thirty yards away, dive to one side, and the anvil goes flying over them and hits the ground a few yards beyond the chalk line.
The watching crowd loudly cheer, and start chanting the ork warleader's name again, as he looks around at them with hands raised to his sides, lifting them up and down, encouraging them to cheer for him even louder.
While his competitors, those that have been able to lift the anvil off the ground, have only taken a few steps towards the line thirty yards away.
The former earl of Lé Dic sourly smiles as the nobles around him shout "Bravo!" and "Hurrah!" as well as a few well dones. He shakes his head as his niece claps enthusiastically at the antics of the large ork.
The former paladin, who has been demoted to a knight of the third rank in his order, and unknown to him, is in line to be kicked out of the order of Saint Mar-che if some influential people in the government of the kingdom get their way.
Scowls as he looks at Dorc da Orc, who looks his way, with a large, not to mention, a rather smug looking grin upon his broad, green, feral looking face.
"Giant green buffoon" mutters Percy after the ork warleader and his fellow competitors in the strongman competition move away to the next part of the event they have to do.
It's a wagon pull. Where each competitor has to go against a pair of draft horses. They take hold of a rope tied to the back of the wagon. And pull against the two horses in the traces.
Competitors in this part of the strongman competition never win. Though sometimes, someone might get lucky and pull back the wagon a few feet, or a couple of yards. Before the large horses pull the wagon away.
This doesn't happen to the first competitor, who once the command is given by the sergeant at arms. He hits the ground face first as the rope is yanked out of his hands as the two draft horses pull the wagon away.
As the dazed competitor is carried away, Dorc da Orc who has drawn the second lot, steps forward after finishing the ale in the barrel he's been carrying around.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic glances over at lord Milburn, his nieces grandfather, who says "That ork fellow is strong alright, and he might haul that wagon back for a bit, but i doubt he'll pull it backwards for long".
The former earl of the fief sourly smiles as he knows how wrong lord Milburn is. The ork warleader who has just grabbed the rope off the ground. Has more than one advantage in this part of the event. He doesn't just have the advantage of being immensely strong. He also has the advantage of having animals, such as horses, being afraid of him.
The heavily armoured nobleman sourly smiles as he sees how skittish the two draft horses are with the large ork warleader being so close.
And as the sergeant at arms yells "Go!" to Dorkindle and the wagon driver, and the crowd starts  chanting "Dorc, Dorc!" again and again. First one horse, then the second, rear up in fright for a moment, before they start pulling the wagon.
Not that they pull it far, the wheels barely roll forward, when it stops as the ork weaponsmith pulls back on the rope with all his strength.
The warleader of the ork race grunts, then turns around, and with an angry scowl upon his face, and the rope over his right shoulder, the large ork starts walking, going slowly, putting one foot infront of the other. As he does, he's swearing in the totally incomprehensible language of the orks with every step he takes.
Sir Percavelle rolls his eyes as Dorc da Orc starts dragging the wagon behind him.
"By the gods!" exclaims lord Milburn, who then adds "Hell!". While lady Linara Lé Dic who is busy clapping, cheers on Dorc by chanting his name as the commoners are doing.
"I do hope you were able to put some coin on that beastly fiend?" says the former paladin to the army commander "Huh?" says sir Galmot, who then adds "Oh yeah" when the sergeant at arms calls a halt as the two draft horses have lost their footing, and are on their rumps as the ork warleader drags them and the wagon they're attached to, behind him.
It goes without saying that the large ork easily wins the strongman competition. Which he didn't particularly care about until he was given the winning prize, which is his weight in ale, and an auroch.
Dorkindle has the wild like oxen slaughtered immediately by the cooks at the firepits, and has them cook the large cattle beast.
As the ork weaponsmith drinks from his many barrels of ale he know has, and waits for his auroch to get cooked.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic and the other nobles make their way to the stands that's along part of the field. The part where the lists are, where the joust will take place.
As they walk there, the one time earl of Lé Dic finds himself walking beside the lady Hollis, the governess of lady Linara. Lady Hollis who is Percy's sister inlaw, well former sister inlaw.
"That ork friend of yours well and truly won the strongman competition" says lady Hollis, sir Percavelle  who is sick of everyone referring to Dorc da Orc as his friend, refrains from sourly smiling, and instead he says "That he did".
The two of them quietly chat as they and the others with them head to the stands. Walking a bit behind the former earl of Lé Dic, lord Milburn watches the heavily armoured knight and the governess in silence. Not saying anything to those around him, as he carefully watches sir Percavelle and the lady Hollis . . . . . .

The Homecoming 18.

A Field...

The day dawns cold and clear. It's still early when the people start to gather in the fields on the south side of castle Lé Dic for the winter games and tourney.
They've traveled from throughout the fief over the last few days, with most staying in the inns and boarding houses in the town of Massic. While others have set up tents in the field adjacent to where the tourney is being held.
There's other tents on the edge of the field where the games are to be held, as well as a stand, along one side of the lists where the joust will take place. The three level stand has no one seated on it yet, for it is reserved for the nobility, and those who are deemed important here in the Lé Dic fief.
Inside the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family, Tamric Drubine stretches his neck from side to side, he bends at the waist to touch his boots. Then stands upright again, and follows Lisell Maera out the door at the base of the tower that they and the rest of the group are staying in.
Both teenagers are in their armour, and are carrying their weapons. Tam has his bow with him as well, even though he won't be using it today.
The two of them share a look, for lying on the ground just to the side of the tower door, is Dorc da Orc, who is fast asleep in the morning sunshine. The large ork who is snoring loudly, and has an empty wine barrel next to him, there's a barrel of ale he's yet to open next to him too.
Tamric Drubine steps to one side as Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy walks out of the tower door. The elf from the principality of Alínlae is wearing his grey hooded cloak, which is over his armour.
It doesn't look like he has a single weapon upon him. But looks are deceiving, for the spy Tanith has more weapons than anyone else in the group with the exception of Dorc da Orc.
After the spy Tanith nods to the nobleborn teen from the kingdom of Sarcrin and the orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury, and he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at the state of the ork warleader.
He steps aside as Shur Kee the monk makes his way out of the tower. The short statured monk, whose only change in attire from the warmer months of the year, is that he wears a white woolen cloak over his simple clothes.
Has no weapon, apart from the wooden staff, which he uses more as walking stick most of time. The short, statured monk only really uses it in actual combat, and he has no plans to use it today.
Shaking his head, and wryly smiling when he spots the snoring Dorc da Orc, the acolyte in the order of Bru Li steps to one side, as behind him, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger makes his way out of the tower.
The ranger Hait who is in his usual armour and clothing, as well as his assortment of weapons. Only plans to use his bow and his daggers today.
He looks over at snoring ork weaponsmith and rolls his eyes, then Riley Hait the mercenary ranger says to the other "Percy will meet us down there".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic has been staying in the main keep over the last few days. In his family's quarters, infact in his old chambers. Which he hasn't stayed in since his last visit home nine years ago, just before the invasion of the Sunreach Mountains.
"And someone wake him up" says the mercenary ranger who nods at the sleeping ork warleader.
It's Shur Kee who wakes up the large ork, the physical adept does it with ease. By simply taking his staff, and whacking it into the face of the snoring ork weaponsmith. The end of it slams into the right eye of Dorkindle.
Who snorts, then yawns, and he rubs his eyes while he wakes. The large ork grunts as he opens his eyes and sees the others standing nearby looking at him.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks grunts again, when the ranger Hait says to him "Come on, we're going down to the fields" followed by "The games and tourney will start soon enough".
Dorc da Orc yawns again, gets up, picks up the barrel of ale he's yet to open, and follows after the rest of the group who are making their way across the courtyard that's infront of the tower they've been staying in, while here in castle Lé Dic.
People make their way out of the south gates of the massive castle to get to the fields. While others come around from the west side of castle Lé Dic, where the town of Massic is located.
The group of traveling mercenaries and adventurers, make their way across the south drawbridge of the castle. With Dorc da Orc who is at the back of the group, hissing in anger and disgust as he looks down off the side of the drawbridge at the water in the moat below.
The large ork from the southern polar region of the world, has often spent his time up on the south wall. Both pissing off it, and hanging his ass off it, to shit in the moat below.
Those on the walls, mainly soldiers on duty, know to keep their distance from him when he does this. For they've seen how disgusting, his shit and piss looks, and even worse, how utterly horrible it smells.
Once over the south drawbridge of castle Lé Dic, the group wander down to the field where the games and tourney is being held. There's a crier from the town calling out the order of events. And as expected it's the games, which predominantly the commoners will take part in, is to begin first.
After listening for a while as they stand to one side of the road next to the field. Riley Hait says to the ork warleader "You'll be up first Dorc" the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen looks up at the sky, and the position of the sun to the east, then he tells the large ork "Not for a little while yet".
"Good" says Dorc da Orc whose nostrils are twitching, he grunts and heads towards some of the tents on one side of the field. Behind them a number of firepits have been dug, where entire pigs, deer and ox are being cooked. As well as game birds, chickens, and an assortment of sausages, as well as other food are being prepared and cooked.
The mercenary ranger who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, who just happens to inhabit the body of Riley Hait. Glances at Dalinvardél Tanith, the elven spy nods in understanding, and he along with the Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman follow a bit behind the ork warleader who is on his way to the cooking pits.
Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera, as well as Shur Kee the monk, wander across the field, as are others are doing, as the games and tourney are yet to get underway.
As a few people start to take a seat in the stands, and more of the nobility make their way from the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
Tam, Lis and Shur Kee walk towards a couple of tents where a crowd is gathering. The three of them, along with Dorkindle, Riley Hait and Dalin, have already entered their events. Having done so yesterday. Stand at the edge of the crowd, and listen to an officer in the army of lady Linara Lé Dic, call out the procession of events in the tourney which will start later than the games.
All three hear when their events will take place, as well as the one's the others are in. Which includes the grande melee which will finish the tourney tomorrow afternoon, which Dorc da Orc has been entered into.
"When do they draw for it?" quietly asks Lisell Maera in the elven language to the nobleborn teenager standing beside her "Just before the first ones are due to take place" is the quiet reply of Tamric Drubine in the same language, who then adds "It's so someone can't withdraw in the first round because they know they could be up against someone better".
Lis nods in understanding, then Tam quietly tells her in elven "We're unknowns, so we'll have an advantage until they get a look at us in action". "Just hope i don't get you or Percy in the opening rounds" dryly says the attractive teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury, she looks around then quietly adds "It will come down to the two of you, unless you meet up in the earlier rounds".
The former heir to the previous knight of castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin, doesn't know about that. As he's hardly seen any of the other competitors taking part in the duels, practicing their sword work. Slightly nods his head at what Lis just said, then turning to Shur Kee and switching to the common language, he says to the acolyte in the order of Bru Li "Seems like you'll be the first one of us to take part in the tourney".
"Yes i do believe so" says Shur Kee the monk as they listen to the officer infront of the two tents, after listening for a little bit longer, Tam quietly says to the short, statured monk from the far eastern coast of the continent "It's wrestling as well as unarmed combat" he then adds "Will you be okay with that?".
A brief smile appears upon the face of the physical adept, who then says "It will be fine friend Tamric". The nobleborn teen nods, then he quietly tells Shur Kee "You'll be up against soldiers mostly" he continues with "Nobles don't like to get down and dirty in a one on one tussle in a tourney" Tam then adds in a dry tone "They also don't like not being able to use a weapon" he pauses for a moment, then says "I should know, I'm one of them".
Both Shur Kee and Lisell Maera chuckle at that, then the orphan teenager from the coastal city of Brattonbury quietly says in elven to Tam "Those soldiers won't know what's hit them" she continues with "He'll plant every single one of them on their arse before they even know what the hell is going on".
The nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin nods his head in agreement with that. For if there's a sure bet in one of the events in the tourney, it will be Shur Kee winning the unarmed combat.
The other sure bet will be Dorc da Orc in the grande melee, though the chance of something completely random happening in that is very high.
While over in the games, the large ork has another sure bet, and that's in the strongman competition. Which he's been entered into, which is the first event, in both the games and tourney, that any of them will take part in.
The games are just about to get underway, with the events for children to soon begin. The town crier from Massic is now calling for the participants in the first events of the day to gather.
"Looks like things are about to start" says Tamric Drubine as they look back to the side of the field that's closest to the road that comes down from castle Lé Dic, the nobleborn teen nods in that direction. And he, along with Lisell Maera and Shur Kee the monk, as well as most of the crowd who have gathered infront of the two tents to listen to the order of events in the tourney.
Start making their way back across the field to where the first events of the games of the winter festival is about to get underway . . . . . .

The Homecoming 17.

A Forest...

"Do you know whose lands we're in at the moment?" asks lord Farque "I have no idea" replies Mira Reinholt the mage as he looks around at the trees to either side of the trail they're on "Good fucking lot you're useful for" dryly says the undead warlord, who then adds "You used to live in this kingdom for fucks sake".
"Never came out this way" says the once powerful mage in a slightly defensive tone of voice, who leaps over a fallen tree on the trail, then he continues with "Could be anyone's fief".
After stepping over the same fallen tree, lord Farque rolls his eyes, then he tells the Vexilian mage in exile "Stop for a moment". The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster does so, and instantly realising what the heavily armoured deathlord wants, the mage Reinholt takes out a map that shows this part of eastern Druvic.
"Pretty sure we're here" say Mira Reinholt as the two of them look at the map, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque slightly nods his full helmed head in agreement, then he quietly says "The Sandol fief" as he looks at the spot on the map that the exiled Vexilian mage has pointed to.
"Know anything about them?" asks Draugadrottin as he's known by the people of his lands "The earl Sandol served with the army that invaded the Sunreach Mountains" says the swordmaster Reinholt, who then adds "I didn't meet him myself, but i know he and a large part of his garrison went north into the mountains".
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, folds up the map, and returns it to his pack. And as they get underway again, he says to the undead being "Typical Druvician nobleman, though from what i remember his soldiers thought well of him, which is at least something".
The deathlord of Farque nods, and they get underway again, it's not too long later when the undead warlord tells the the mage Reinholt "Right through the trees, there's a road in that direction".
The spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil who is in the front, goes that way, with the heavily armoured deathlord following behind him. They walk for a couple hundred yards through the forest, until getting to a dirt road that cuts a swath through the trees. The two of them head eastwards along the road, that lord Farque sensed a couple of horsemen riding along a short time ago.
Walking side by side in the mid morning sunshine, on what's a cool but clear winter's day, Mira Reinholt asks lord Farque "Is he far away?". Sensing eastwards, the undead warlord says "About half a dozen miles further east of us" as he senses Helbe the elven thief, as well as Narladene the ground pixie.
The Vexilian swordmaster in exile just nods, as he's been around the lord of the death realm long enough, that he knows he doesn't like to talk unless he wants to. The mage Reinholt knows it's best to let the lord and ruler of the lands Farque to lead any conversation.
As he tends to get a little irritable when people talk unnecessarily. And a irritable undead warlord, from experience, the exiled Vexilian mage knows is the last thing you want to be around.
After walking in silence for quite some time upon the dirt road that goes through the forest, and not encountering anyone. Lord Farque as it nears midday, quietly says "Riders approaching us from the west".
Mira Reinholt looks back behind them, in the direction they've come from, and he asks "How far?" followed by "How many?".
"A couple of miles away" replies the deathlord in the dark, heavy plate armour "A dozen of them" adds the undead warlord who is also known as Des'tier by an older generation of elven kind, or by elves who know who he is.
"A dozen?" murmurs the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who continues on with "A patrol most likely". "Really?" says lord Farque in a slightly acidic tone of voice, who then adds in the same tone "I would never of fucking guessed that".
The mage Reinholt slightly winces as the undead warlord doesn't particularly care for someone stating the obvious. The highly skilled swordmaster clears his throat, then says "The only thing we have to worry about is if they're from the capital, and if so, are they after us" he then adds "Don't think the locals will particularly care about a couple of travelers".
"A valid point" says lord Farque, who after a brief pause, continues with "Then again, some nobles are just fucking cunts, who don't like anyone going through their lands". "There is that" quietly says the Vexilian mage in exile who looks back in the direction they've come from, and wonders how long it will be until the mounted patrol appears.
It turns out to be not that long at all, for the riders come into view along the forest road just a short while later. They've obviously been riding fairly quickly, for they slow down when they see the two figures on the road, one large, in a full suit of heavy, dark blue, black plate armour. The other in a hooded black cloak.
Lord Farque and Mira Reinholt step to one side of the road, to let the approaching riders go by. The once powerful mage looks back at the mounted patrol, and he slightly frowns.
"What is it?" quietly asks the deathlord of Farque in the elven language when he notices the mage Reinholt slightly frown "I'm not certain, but i don't think those tabards are earl Sandol's" quietly replies the once powerful mage in the same language, he then adds "It's been nearly nine years, so i might be wrong".
The undead warlord slightly nods as the riders approach them at a fast walk, the lead rider slows, forcing the rest of the mounted patrol to slow down behind him.
"Greetings" says Mira Reinholt, who knows he's the one who'll have to do the talking as the lead rider comes along side them. "Greetings" replies the soldier who is the patrol leader, who then nods to lord Farque and adds "Sir".
Even though he sourly smiles behind the full visor of his helm at being mistaken for a knight or a nobleman, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque nods in reply to the patrol leader, but he remains silent for the moment.
"May i ask why you're traveling through the Gallus fief?" asks the soldier who leads the mounted patrol as he keeps his horse at pace with the two walking to the side of the forest road.
"Gallus?" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who then asks "Is this not earl Sandol's fief?".
"It was" sourly says the patrol leader, who continues on with "Earl Gallus was given this fief by the crown after the war of succession when the previous earl and his heirs were killed".
"We should of got a newer fucking map" mutters lord Farque to Mira Reinholt in the elven language. The exiled Vexilian swordmaster slightly nods his hooded head, then says in common to the mounted soldier "Didn't know that" he follows that up with "We're visitors to Druvic, and it's been some time since we were last in the kingdom".
After quickly casting to see if the patrol leader was telling the truth, and finding out that he is. The once powerful mage waves a hand to the east, and he says "We're heading further east" the swordmaster Reinholt continues with "To the Lé Dic fief".
"Oh?" quietly says the leader of the patrol of soldiers serving in the army of earl Gallus, who quickly glances back at the rest of the mounted patrol behind him, then he says to the figure in the black hooded cloak "Is that so?".
Fuck, the Vexilian mage in exile thinks to himself as he quickly reads the mind of the mounted patrol leader "They're after those who killed some of their fellow soldiers and the local constable a couple of weeks ago" murmurs Mira Reinholt under his breath as he knows lord Farque will be able to hear it "They're rounding up any unknown visitors to the fief" adds the highly skilled swordmaster under his breath.
The Vexilian mage in exile refrains from wincing as he knows where this is going to go. While beside him, lord Farque sourly smiles behind the visor of his full helm, as he too knows what's about to happen after hearing what the mage Reinholt just whispered to him.
"If you don't mind" says the patrol leader, who doesn't get to finish what he's about to say, because the undead warlord interrupts him with "We do mind". "Huh?" says the rider infront, who then adds "Pardon?". "I said we do mind" says lord Farque, while next to him, the once powerful mage takes a couple of steps away from the large, heavily armoured figure in the dark blue, black heavy plate armour.
"I was going to say before you interrupted me sir" says the patrol leader who isn't too sure if the lord of the death realm is a knight or an avenger, or a nobleman. So he's still fairly polite as he adds "Is that a heinous crime was committed further to the east in the fief, and that it's believed that interet travelers might of been involved, so we've been tasked by earl Gallus to bring in all people who are strangers passing through my lord's lands and".
He stops mid sentence when lord Farque grabs him by the right boot, and flips him out of the saddle, the patrol leader hits the ground with a thud, near the base of a tree on the otherside of the road, as the deathlord of Farque used a fair bit of force when he flipped the soldier clear out of the saddle.
There's a momentary pause, as the rest of the mounted squad, can't quite believe what's just happened, then they draw their weapons, which causes Mira Reinholt to dryly murmur "You probably shouldn't of done that".
A short while later and Mira Reinholt is dragging one of the bodies into the trees off to the side of the road, he looks down then says "This one's still alive". "Well kill him" says lord Farque who has just sent one of the horses running, with a slap to it's hind quarters.
The Vexilian mage in exile grimaces, for he only killed one of the mounted patrol, a man who swung his sword at the black cloak wearing swordmaster. The spellcaster who set that soldier, as well as his horse instantly on fire.
Looks at the near dead soldier, who like the rest, the lord and ruler of the lands Farque took care of when they attacked the two of them.
"By the shape of fire" mutters Mira Reinholt, who finds it difficult to kill someone who is wounded, especially someone who didn't specifically attack him. Considering nearly all of the mounted patrol in the service of the earl of Gallus, attacked the large, heavily armoured figure of lord Farque.
Seeing the once powerful mage hesitate, the undead warlord rolls his eyes, throws the dead soldier he's just picked up, over the trees on one side of the road, then walks over to the highly skilled swordmaster.
"Here" says Draugadrottin who grabs the near dead soldier off the exiled Vexilian mage. The lord of the death realm snaps the man's neck, killing him instantly. Then he throws the dead body a good fifty feet through the trees on this side of the forest road.
Mira Reinholt slightly winces, then follows the deathlord of Farque back onto the road, and they continue on their way to the east.
"Any soldiers we come across in this fief are going to stop us, and take us in for questioning" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster "They can try" says the undead warlord who nods his full helmed head back in the direction they've come from, and adds "Just like that fucking lot did".
The mage Reinholt who is quiet for a little bit, then says "Well concerning who they're after, do you think it's". "I do" says lord Farque as he interrupts the highly skilled swordmaster, the heavily armoured deathlord dryly adds "Of course it's fucking them".
Mira Reinholt can only nod his hooded head in agreement with the undead warlord's assessment there . . . . . .

The Homecoming 16.

A Workshop...

"I don't know who is worse" says Bassark the foreman as he looks out the doors of the workshop to across the courtyard "Him or his master". "Definitely the master" says Tovis the war engineer who joins the foreman at the doors.
"Well yeah, i guess so" says Bassark, who though nearly twenty years older than the young engineer, defers to him, and not just on the work they're doing for the baron.
"But he's almost as bad" says the foreman "Now that i definitely agree with" says Tovis with a nod of his head as they watch Maren, the apprentice to the dark druid Palvarc, crossing the courtyard to the main keep of castle Harkonin.
Those in the courtyard, and others going in and out of the main doors of the large keep in the middle of the castle, veer away, and keep out of the way of the apprentice spellcaster. Who like his master, is bald. And wears a black, robe like cloak.
Even on what's a fine and sunny winter's day, Maren seems to be devoid of light. As if he's sucking up any sunshine that's striking down upon him.
It's a rather common trait for those who are dark druids. It's as though the sunlight doesn't particularly like them.
Tovis who is often wondered if that's where the dark druids got their name, glances sideways at the foreman of the work yards here at castle Harkonin, who spits in disgust to one side, then quietly says "Filthy dark ones".
"Don't be letting either one of them hear you say that" quietly says the engineer to the foreman, Tovis continues with "Or infront of one of their believers".
Bassark quickly looks around and is relieved to see that everyone else in the workshop are too busy to listen in on what the two of them are talking about.
"I will" quietly says the foreman, who like the young engineer, doesn't particularly care for the dark druid and his apprentice. Both of whom, are close to the baron, and most of his family too.
Bassark glances at young Tovis and finds him looking up at the main keep, the foreman of the work yards refrains from sighing, but he does roll his eyes as he can guess what the war engineer to baron Harkonin is thinking about.
"You know Tovis, you're important to the baron, i doubt there's any other commoner in the fief who's as important as you, well apart from you know who" quietly says Bassark, who when he sees he's got the young engineer's attention, he quietly adds in a slightly dry tone "But you're not that important".
Tovis winces, then he looks back into the workshop to make sure no one is listening, then he quietly says to his foreman "Is it that obvious?".
"For someone who knows, yes" quietly says Bassark who continues with "You've been pining over her since you were a young 'un, so it's fairly obvious to those who know".
The foreman slightly shakes his head, then says "You're an eligible young man, i'm sure there's plenty of young woman in town who would like to be your wife" he briefly pauses before adding "Like i said, you're probably the most important commoner in the fief, so trust me, you've got the pick of the crop, so to speak".
The young engineer nods his head, as he knows this to be true. He's been told by those who know this, including his father, plenty of times, to not pass up the opportunities that's available to him when it comes to marriage. But he's been stubborn about it, and refuses to listen.
"You know it has happened" quietly says Tovis, who continues with "The daughter of the lord of the high pass married that son of those wine merchants last year, so it is possible for a noble to marry a commoner".
"True" says the work yard foreman, who looks up at the main keep of the castle, then at the young engineer standing beside him, and he dryly says "But she wasn't the daughter of the baron of Harkonin".
Bassark does sigh when he sees young Tovis wince again, the yard foreman slightly shakes his head, and almost tells the war engineer to forget about it, but he knows that's not fair.
Instead he changes the subject, and tells him "Should we go and see how the cups are going?". After a moment, Tovis nods his head, and says "We probably should" the young engineer continues in a slightly dry tone with "Nothing like looking on the progress of a some catapults instead of thinking about the impossible, and the unfairness of life".
Bassark can't help but chuckle, and he says to the baron's war engineer "Too true" as he slaps him across the shoulders in a jovial manner.
He gets a faint grin from Tovis, and the foreman of the work yards tells him "Come along then".
The two of them exit the workshop, and make their way to the right through the courtyard. Heading away from the main keep of castle Harkonin. They're soon outside the south gates of the large castle, and in the work yards proper.
Tovis looks towards his home that isn't too far away, and hopes his father isn't too far gone in drink, as it's not yet midday. And that he's working on the tasks that Tovis has set for him.
His father Mallick is still a hard worker, and a more than competent one too. Until he's had too much to drink, that's when his work becomes shoddy. A trait that's detrimental for an engineer. Even one who is still as accomplished such as Mallick.
The young war engineer and the foreman walk through the late morning sunshine, on this cool and clear winter's day. The snowfall from a couple of days ago has melted away. And Bassark remarks" It's definitely getting warmer" the foreman then quietly adds "It'll be early spring in a months time" he gestures away to the west then quietly says "We'll be heading that way soon enough i guess".
"More than likely" quietly says Tovis who knows that they'll be on the warpath soon enough. And that an early spring campaign against the Lé Dic fief is a certainty. Word is that over in the neighbouring fief, they too are building up for war.
And like here in the Harkonin fief, it won't be a border skirmish as it was eighteen months ago, when the previous ruler of the Lé Dic fief, earl Maxiss Lé Dic, was killed.
"Really think that young lady of Lé Dic is making the decisions over there?" quietly asks Bassark as they watch the work being done on the throwing cups on a couple of the newer catapults "I rather doubt it" quietly replies the war engineer, who continues with "I have no doubt the child wants revenge for her father's death, but it's more than likely those around her are making all the major decisions".
The foreman of the work yards nods in agreement with that, and as they walk around one of the newer catapults and inspect the work that's been done, he quietly says "Hope it doesn't rain that much in the springtime".
"Same" murmurs Tovis who knows that wet ground, is the bane of his existence when it comes to his war machines. As moving them, even when broken down into more manageable pieces, across wet and muddy ground is more than a hassle to say the least.
It's something he's not looking forward to, as sometimes the rainfall here in the very east of the kingdom of Druvic can get very heavy during the spring.
Both the young engineer and the foreman help a group of workers reattach a wheel to an axle of one of the newer catapults. Which is a hell of a lot easier than putting a new wheel on the much larger trebuchets.
After doing that, and inspecting the remaining catapults that have been worked on throughout the autumn and now winter. The two of them head back into the castle that's the ancestral home of the Harkonin family.
After they have the midday meal, the war engineer and his foreman return to the workshop to help with what's being done there. It's in the middle of the afternoon, and as Tovis helps one of the work crews building a scorpion that's nearly complete. One of the workers quietly says to him "Sir coming this way".
The young engineer sees the fearful look upon the face of the man, Tovis looks over his shoulder and spots Maren, the apprentice to the dark druid Palvarc walking across the courtyard outside, heading straight for the workshop. A couple of soldiers are following the spellcaster, though at a distance, as if they don't want to be too close to the apprentice dark druid.
"Continue with this" says Tovis to the work crew, the young engineer looks over at the work bench that Bassark and a couple of metalworkers, are working on the firing mechanism of the scorpion.
The foreman who has also spotted the apprentice to the dark druid Palvarc heading this way. Has a grimace of disgust upon his face.
Bassark nods to him, and as Tovis nods back, and heads for the open double doors, the foreman, wipes the grease off his hands with a rag, then comes around from the work bench, and follows Tovis towards the doors.
The dark druid's apprentice stops just outside the workshop, looking into it with a sneer of disdain upon his face. It only slightly lessens when the young war engineer gets to the open doors and stops there.
With a folded piece of parchment in hand that's sealed with wax, Maren the apprentice dark druid says "My master wants this made" the young spellcaster doesn't bother greeting the young engineer facing him.
From a bit behind Tovis, the foreman Bassark says "That's master engineer, or war engineer to you" the work yard foreman pauses for a moment, before adding in a flat tone "Apprentice".
A brief scowl appears on the face of the bald headed spellcaster, who is actually younger than Tovis, then the apprentice to the dark druid Palvarc says "My master wants this made" followed after a brief pause by "Master engineer".
Ignoring the young man just infront of him, Tovis looks beyond him to the pair of soldiers who have followed Maren. The war engineer who knows both men, lifts a questioning eyebrow, and one of the soldiers reluctantly nods.
Great, Tovis thinks to himself, the young engineer sourly adds in silence, more fucking work to do.
Holding a hand out, the war engineer to baron Harkonin asks the apprentice spellcaster "By when?". "As soon as possible" replies Maren who would rather be doing anything else than run errands for his master.
After taking the parchment, and cracking the seal and opening up, Tovis slightly frowns as he quickly looks at the diagram on the parchment, then he slightly nods in understanding at what he sees.
"Tell your master it will be done within a seven day" says the young engineer, who continues with "The baron's war machines have priority, and my crews will only be able to build this once they've completed other things".
"Very well" says the apprentice spellcaster "Will that be all?" asks Tovis "Yes that's all" replies Maren, who without saying another word more, turns and makes his way back across the courtyard to the main keep. The pair of soldiers, who would rather be doing anything else, including cleaning the privy in their barracks, than the duty they have at the moment. Follow behind the apprentice spellcaster.
"What is it?" asks Bassark as he steps up to beside Tovis "Here" says the war engineer who hands the parchment to his foreman. Who frowns as he look at the diagram on it.
"Hmmmm looks similar to a frame for the heavy wooden fence posts" quietly says Bassark who continues with "The one you pound into a hole in the ground".
"That's basically what it is" dryly says the war engineer to baron Harkonin "Why the hell would the dark druid want something" says the work yard foreman who suddenly stops in mid sentence, then winces in disgust, which he follows up with a muttered "Fuck".
"Exactly" quietly says Tovis the war engineer, who shakes his head as he watches Maren the apprentice dark druid enter the main keep of the castle "Come on, let's get back to work" says Tovis, who turns back, and walks further into the workshop to continue the work he has to complete for the baron . . . . . .

The Homecoming 15.

A Courtyard...

Walking through one of the many courtyards in the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family. Riley Hait the mercenary ranger spots Shur Kee the monk who makes his way over to him.
The two friends greet one another, and as they continue on their way through the courtyard, Riley Hait the mercenary ranger asks the short, statured monk "Have you seen Dorc?" as he hasn't seen the large ork this morning.
"He is in the large courtyard watching the repair work on the damaged trebuchet" replies Shur Kee the monk "I bet that's a box of laughs for the workers fixing it" dryly says the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen.
As he knows the ork weaponsmith is probably critiquing the repair work being done, much to the annoyance of the engineers and their workers who are trying to rebuild the damaged war machine.
"Yes i would think so" says the acolyte in the order of Bru Li who saw, as well as heard the large ork a little earlier, loudly suggesting what he thinks should be done to fix the nearly destroyed trebuchet.
They go through a myriad of courtyards, tunnels, even a few gardens, and a couple of towers instead of going around them, before they get to the large courtyard where the many workshops in the castle are located.
There they find Dorc da Orc sitting on the ground near one of the workshops, eating a haunch of deer. Standing near him, are Lisell Maera and Tamric Drubine. The two of them who have just finished practicing with their swords, are leaning back against the wall behind them. Keeping one eye on the ork warleader, and the other on a number of people either working in and around the large courtyard, or going through it.
Stopping near the two teenagers, the ranger Hait lifts an eyebrow when Tamric Drubine quietly says in the elven language "They've taken on what he's suggested" the nobleborn teen from the kingdom of Sarcrin nods towards the nearby workshop, then he continues in elven with "Though not too kindly to all the added advice he's been giving them".
I can imagine, the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen dryly thinks to himself, Riley Hait who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who just happens to inhabit the body of the mercenary ranger.
Looks around, and spots a fairly large number of soldiers, either in their tunics, or those in more nondescript clothing, in and around the courtyard, as well as up on the walls that surround it.
Things could get ugly here if we don't watch it, Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman thinks to himself, who is just glad, that at the moment, Dorc da Orc is preoccupied with eating the deer haunch instead of giving unwanted advice.
The ranger Hait, who knows that pretty much the only thing that could make matters worse, is if that sir Percavelle Lé Dic turned up, and got into an argument with the ork warleader. Looks at Tam again when the former heir to the knight of castle Drubine in the kingdom of Sarcrin, tells him "Seems they're having games and a tourney in a couple of days time for the winter festival".
"I know" says the mercenary ranger, it's the reason he went looking for Dorkindle, then looking at the two teenagers he says to them "You two should enter, the duels at least".
"No thanks" says Lisell Maera, who then nods at the nobleborn teen standing next to her, and adds "Tam definitely should" followed by "I doubt anyone is better with the sword here than he is" she briefly pauses before adding "Apart from Percy".
The ranger Hait nods in agreement with that assessment, then he says "Nevertheless, you should both enter" he looks at Lis and adds "And you should enter the target shooting too".
"You mean you should" says the orphan teenager from the city-state of Brattonbury, who continues with "You and Dalin will clean up in that". "I know, that's why we're entering" he nods sideways in the direction of Shur Kee and adds "He'll enter the unarmed combat". "Hell, no one will even touch him" dryly says Tam who like Lis, knows that when it comes to unarmed combat no one is better than the short, statured monk that they've ever seen, with the exception of Helbe the elven thief and lord Farque.
"That's basically cheating" adds the nobleborn teen from the feudal kingdom of Sarcrin "I know" says the mercenary ranger. The two teenagers, the older Lisell who is nearly eighteen, and Tamric nearly fifteen, both tall, glance at one another, then they look at the ranger Hait, and Tam asks him "I gather there's a point to this?".
"There is" says the mercenary ranger who was raised and trained by some of the warders in the elven principality of Envadarlen "It's to make a point" adds Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson who continues with "Since though they've been accommodating enough to us, and allow us certain things, like Dalin going out on one of their patrols. They've all but ignored us, and not really listened to anything we've said" he gestures at the large ork on the ground then says "Apart from what he's said about that trebuchet in there, and that's after they nearly killed themselves testing it".
Both Tamric Drubine and Lisell Maera nod in understanding, then after Riley Hait glances sideways at the acolyte in the order of Bru Li, and murmurs in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra "Just have to tell him what i want him to do first" as he knows the monk from the far eastern coast of the continent isn't particularly fond of untoward violence.
Looks at Tam and Lis, when the nobleborn teenager asks him "And Dorc?" as he nods at the ork warleader who is gnawing away on what's left of the deer haunch he's been eating.
"The strongman competition of course" says the ranger Hait "Of course" dryly says Lisell Maera, the mercenary ranger who has paused for a couple of moments, then adds "As well as the grande melee".
Both teenagers wince, then Tam mutters "Fucking hell" followed up by "Do you want to make a point?" then he adds "Or kill everyone?" the nobleborn teen nods at Dorc da Orc, then says "Because that's what he'll do if he enters the melee, fucking kill everyone".
"Don't worry, I've figured something out" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who then silently adds, i hope.
"If you say so" says Lisell Maera in a dubious tone "It'll be fine" says the mercenary ranger in a tone of false bravado, who just hopes that something he remembers lord Farque telling him, actually happened like it did, and that it worked.
"Well it's your idea, and you're in charge, so we'll do it i guess" says Tamric Drubine who continues with "So when it goes wrong" he looks at the ork weaponsmith as he adds "Which it will" Tam follows that with "It will be your fault".
"Thanks" says the mercenary ranger in a sour tone of voice and a shake of his head, then Riley Hait switches to the common language and turns to Shur Kee the monk, and quietly explains to him about the upcoming games and tourney that will be held here at castle Lé Dic. And what he wants the physical adept to do in them.
The short, statured monk listens in silence as the ranger Hait explains to him what he wants him to do. Eventually Shur Kee, though a little reluctantly, agrees to the mercenary ranger's idea.
Then Riley aka Zubutai Timaginson looks at the warleader of the ork race and says to him "Dorc" followed by "The lady of the fief is putting on some games for the winter festival in a couple of days". Dorkindle ignores the ranger Hait as he chews on the bone of the haunch he's been eating while Riley Hait explains that he wants him to enter the games.
The large ork finally takes notice, and glances at the mercenary ranger when he mentions that they'll there'll also be a tourney.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks just grunts and goes back to chewing on leg bone of the deer as Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman explains to him about the tourney.
With half a scowl upon his face as he briefly stops chewing, Dorc da Orc says "Yeah cunt, me know what it is" followed by "It's fucken shit is what it is" in response to Riley Hait asking him if he knows what a tourney is.
The large ork has never liked it, people tend not to let orks fight in the duels. And he's too big to ride in the lists, not to mention horses are shit scared of him.
There's only one thing he actually likes in a tourney, and it's been years since he's been in one.
Dorkindle is just about to look away, when the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen mentions that particular thing, and that he wants him to enter it.
The big, burly ork blinks in surprise, then says "Huh?" followed by "Me heard you say you want Dorc to go in the fucken". "I did" says the ranger Hait as he interrupts the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, he continues with "I want you to enter the grande melee".
A grin starts to appear on the broad, green, brutish looking face of Dorc da Orc, who then chuckles and says "Fucken sweet"  then claps his large hands loudly together and rubs them in anticipation as he thinks of being in a grande melee of a tourney.
"They dead" says Dorkindle with a chuckle, Tamric Drubine after looking at the ork weaponsmith, looks over at the mercenary ranger and he tells him in the elven language "Told you" the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin then adds in the same language "Good luck with that, cause you're going to need it".
"It'll be fine" says Riley Hait in elven as he looks at the chuckling ork warleader, and hopes to hell it will be fine. Feeling that it won't be easy, no matter what he tells the large ork to do during the tourney.
"Why exactly do that have it?" asks Lisell Maera in the elven language, she then adds "It's winter for gods sake". "Because they'll be going to war in the springtime" says Tamric Drubine in the same language as he answers the attractive teenager's question, he continues with "And so they can see how good people are, that's why the commoners and non soldiers can enter the games, it's to see what they'll be good at within an army".
As the ranger Hait nods his head at the explanation given by the nobleborn teenager, the older of the two teens asks "So it's basically a try out for an army?". "Basically" says Tam who continues with "Especially within an area such as a fief" he then adds "They're also used to assess fighting strength between regions if it's a larger tourney, many a war has started, or even ended before it's got going, because of what's happened in a tourney".
"Have many did you have when you were younger?" asks Lis who figures that the kingdom that Tamric Drubine grew up in, he must of experienced a tourney or two.
"A couple of them at my home" replies the son of the former knight of castle Drubine, who then tells the orphan teenager from the coastal city of Brattonbury "But i was too young to enter them, so this will be the first time I've ever been in a tourney".
"You and me both" quietly says Lisell Maera who isn't too keen at being in one, even though she understands why the ranger Hait wants her to take part.
I hope i know what to do? Lis thinks to herself, while Shur Kee isn't exactly okay with the idea of being in the tourney. And Tamric Drubine is looking forward to it. Though not as much as Dorc da Orc. Who sits there chuckling at the prospect of being in a tourney.
While Riley Hait just hopes he can make a point with them being in a tourney. He also hopes Dorkindle doesn't cause too much damage, because that might just cause the opposite effect of what he wants to happen . . . . . .

The Homecoming 14.

A Country Lane...

"So have you been over there often" asks Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy "Not recently" replies Walníth, one of the two elven foresters the spy Tanith has stopped to talk to in a lane between farms he and the patrol he's travelling with this morning have been riding along.
"Not since before the last border war nearly two years ago when lord Maxiss was killed" adds Walníth who then continues in a slightly dry tone with "They don't take too kindly to outsiders over there, especially from this fief".
Beside him, the other forester Jalvelé nods in agreement then says "We don't even go through the forest to the southeast that goes through both fiefs" he continues with "It's more trouble than it's worth as of late".
Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as he's referred to by those who know him, nods in agreement as that's pretty much what he's heard by most of those he's spoken to since being on a patrol the last few days with the squad from castle Lé Dic.
The elven spy from the principality of Alínlae has gone out to gather information. And though speaking with the nobleborn and their guards here in the east of the Lé Dic fief he's found out a few things. It's the people of the towns, villages, hamlets and farm settlements that he's gathered the most, as well as the more important information.
Not just to do with the current situation between the two fiefs, one ruled by the Lé Dic family, the other by the Harkonin family. But also about the individual that he and the rest of the group have traveled to the kingdom of Druvic to find.
As his horse chews at the wet winter grass at the base of the waist high, stone wall that runs along one side of the lane. And as the squad wait patiently on their mounts a bit further down the lane.
Dalinvardél Tanith asks the two local elves "Anything else you can tell me about what's happening over there". When the two foresters glance at the nearby squad, the spy Tanith tells them "Don't worry, none of them can speak elven" he then adds "You can speak freely".
Walníth the older of the two foresters nods his head, then he says "From the traders and merchants that travel between the two fiefs, word from them is that conflict is inevitable in the spring" he continues with "Seems they're building up their weapons, especially their siege weapons".
"Same thing over here" says Dalin "So we've heard" says Jalvelé, who continues with "No doubt we'll be drafted into the young lady's army come spring, as we were in her father's".
"Things were easier back in the civil war a little while ago" says Walníth, who continues with "The two families were on opposite sides, but they didn't put much effort into that conflict".
"We here in the east of the kingdom got off pretty lightly during the war of succession" says Jalvelé who follows that up with "It's only when they're in direct conflict do they get down to business, and go all out in battle".
"Has it always been like that?" asks the elf who once served in one of the prominent noble houses in the principality of Alínlae "Not really, they have their squabbles now and again as all fief rulers do" replies Walníth who continues with "But the only other time the two families have been at their throats all the time was well over a century and half ago".
"A lady from the Harkonin family married into the Lé Dic family back then" explains Jalvelé who then adds "Don't think the majority of both noble families were exactly pleased about it" he continues with "A few weeks after the marriage, hostilities broke out, and they were fighting on and off for nearly a decade" he shakes his head then adds in a slightly sour tone "By the forest gods i nearly bloody well died during that".
"Same here" adds Walníth who continues with "The only reason it stopped is because the king at the time sent in his army to quell hostilities, as there was a good chance that things would of spread to other fiefs here in the east".
Kind of already knowing the answer, Dalinvardél Tanith asks the two local elves "So what's changed recently to increase the tension between the two fiefs?".
The foresters glance at one another, then the older Walníth replies with "That advisor to lord Harkonin, the druid Palvarc" he continues with "Once he got close to the baron over there, things have changed for sure" he pauses for a moment, then says "Rumour is that he's not just a druid, but actually a dark druid".
"Bloody heathen" mutters Jalvelé who then spits off to one side in disgust, the two other elves nod in agreement with what he just muttered.
There's a common misconception amongst the populace, not just here in the kingdom of Druvic, but also throughout the Southlands. That elven kind and those who follow the druidic way, who for the most part are human. Believe in the same things, and practice the same rites. This is indeed false.
True they both respect nature and the natural world, that's about the only common ground they have between the two of them.
For elves believe in their forest gods, while those who follow the teachings of the druids don't believe in any god, though they don't deny the existence of the gods of Volunell.
Elven kind definitely don't practice the same rites as those who follow the druidic ways. Where sacrifices are common. This mainly involves sacrificing earth from a plot of land you work or own. Or something that you've made or built.
And during festivals or at equinoxes this will involve a blood sacrifice, of an animal to appease a local haunt, or the changing of the season, or something like a full moon.
For those who follow the dark druidic ways, blood sacrifice is common. At times the sacrifice of other people is an accepted practice.
Over the years, both scholars and historians have agreed that human sacrifice committed by the dark druids. Has nothing really to do with their magic. But is just an excuse to get rid of their rivals, and those who oppose their way of life.
Those who follow the dark druidic way, are not common. Even in the kingdom of Druvic, a nation that was named after the druidic way. Where those who follow the teachings and practices of the druids, are more common, especially here in the east of the kingdom.
"That Palvarc has definitely stirred things up" says Walníth, who like Jalvelé is part of a local community of elves, who settled in the east of Druvic nearly four and a half centuries ago, just after the defeat of The Holy Norstran Empire who came over from the continent on the otherside of The Great Western Ocean and invaded the Southlands.
Walníth who is the oldest of the three elves in the country lane, a good two hundred and fifty years older than Dalin, who at just over two hundred and eighty years old, is the youngest of the three. Even though all three of them, if they were human, look to be in their late teens to early twenties.
Then says to the spy Tanith "Don't know if he's got lord Harkonin to be more aggressive to the Lé Dic family by casting some foul spell upon him" he pauses then adds "Or because he's just talked the man into attacking their neighbours".
"I'm guessing the later" says the elf from the principality of Alínlae who continues with "From what I've heard, since he was a youngster he never liked sir Maxiss, and before that the older brother sir Percavelle".
After wryly smiling, the younger forester Jalvelé says "Word is sir Percavelle has returned" he shakes his head, then murmurs "The madman".
Both the local elves look quickly at Dalinvardél Tanith, who sharply laughs, then says "That he is" followed by "Don't worry, he's an acquaintance of mine, and he is definitely a madman if there ever was one".
The spy Tanith gestures to the mounted squad just down the lane and tells the two elven foresters "It's why I'm traveling around with his nieces soldiers".
Seeing that the patrol leader wants to be getting underway, Dalin asks the two local elves "There's something else you can help me with" the elf from the principality of Alínlae continues with "You wouldn't happen to know of a" he gives the two of them the name of the person that he and the rest of the group have traveled to the kingdom of Druvic to find.
"Can't say that i have" answers Walníth, who continues with "Though that family name sounds vaguely familiar" he gestures away to the east, the direction of fief Harkonin, and adds "Thinks it's one of the older family names over in the Harkonin fief".
"Yeah I'm sure of it" says Jalvelé as he chimes in, the younger of the two elven foresters continues with "Think they were a family of carpenters just outside Maliss about a century ago". Maliss being the town where castle Harkonin is located, in the most eastern fief in the kingdom of Druvic.
Probably him then, Dalin thinks to himself, as he can easily see a war engineer being a descendant of a family of carpenters from over a hundred years ago.
"Thanks for that" says the spy Tanith to the two local elves, when he sees the patrol leader turn his horse, look this way, and loudly clear his throat.
The elf from Alínlae farewells the two local elves, and he gathers the reins to his horse, and hops up into the saddle. He waves to the two foresters, and as they head off in one direction, he rides the other way down the lane, and rejoins the squad of soldiers he's been with for the last three days.
They ride throughout the entire cold, but clear winter's day, and by early evening they return to the town of Massic, and castle Lé Dic.
After entering the massive castle, and making their way to the stables that they originally left from, the spy Tanith dismounts and hands the reins of his borrowed horse to a groom.
Dalin looks around and spots Riley Hait the mercenary ranger standing nearby. With his pack in hand, the cloaked and hooded elven spy joins the mercenary ranger who was raised and trained in the elven principality of Envadarlen.
After greeting the ranger Hait, the two of them head to the tower that they and rest of the group are quartered in as they stay here in castle Lé Dic.
"So, find anything of interest?" asks Riley Hait the mercenary ranger as they make their way through the massive castle to the broach tower they're staying in. The spy Tanith, who speaks in elven as the ranger Hait just did, says to him "Apart from the two fiefs going to war sooner rather than later?".
"Yeah that too" says Riley Hait who like just about everyone else here in the massive castle, knows that there's going to be war between the Lé Dic and Harkonin families in the early spring. The castle and those who live in it, as well as those in the town of Massic are preparing for a springtime war with their neighbours.
And the spy Tanith informs the mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen that from what he was able to find out from his traveling around the eastern part of the fief. Is that over in the Harkonin fief, they're preparing for war too.
"Just as we're trying to find someone" dryly says Riley Hait, who then asks "Did you happen to find out anything about our engineer?". "I did actually" says the elven spy, the mercenary ranger who in actual fact, is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra, lifts an eyebrow in surprise, and says "Oh?" when he hears that.
"His family were carpenters over a hundred years ago, living near the town of Maliss over in the Harkonin fief" says Dalinvardél Tanith as they make their way through a torch lit courtyard, one of a myriad of courtyards throughout castle Lé Dic.
"Good chance he's over in that fief" adds the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae "Hell" says the ranger Hait with a shake of his head, who then continues on with "If he is, knowing our luck, he's working for the baron over there".
"Probably is" says the spy Tanith, who then tells the mercenary ranger "This good get more than a little difficult if he is, what with Percy not exactly enamoured with anyone from over in that fief, especially someone who's probably working for the baron".
With a rub of his chin, Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman says "This is true, though it's a good thing he's a commoner and not one of the nobility from over there" the mercenary ranger continues with "No way in hell would Percy agree to have him come along if he was".
"We have to actually find him, and get him to come along with us first before Percy can complain about him" says Dalinvardél Tanith in a slightly dry tone of voice, next to him, the ranger Hait nods in agreement as the two of them enter the broach tower here in castle Lé Dic where their quarters are located . . . . . .