The Homecoming 125.

Across The Battle...

Swaying away from a blade swung at him, sir Percavelle Lé Dic shouts "Huzzah!" in a triumphant tone of voice as he slams his swordcatcher into the faceplate of sir Hamdell's full helm.
The former earl of Lé Dic rips the four inch long iron prongs out of the visor of the enemy knight's helm. Almost ripping it off sir Hamdell's head, before the knight from fief to the east drops to the road dead, with blood spraying from his ruined face.
The heavily armoured knight who is the uncle of the lady Linara Lé Dic, steps back from the enemy nobleman he's just killed.
Then looking ahead, the former paladin says in a cheerful tone "You seem to be running out of knights there Taevar old chap" the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che shakes his full helmed head as he continues with "A poor showing on your part if i do say so. Tis not one you would want for a commander of an army".
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic flips up the faceplate of his helm, and he grins as he says "Then we all know the only reason why thou is Raevar's army commander, is because you did bed that ugly troll like sister of his, whom you ended up marrying" the former knight of the first class then dryly adds "I thought my marriage to Marsaé was frought with danger" he continues with "Tis nothing compared to what you have to face every time you mount that ugly trollop that is your wife".
Seething in anger as he looks at the grinning former earl of Lé Dic. The Harkonin army commander sir Taevar goes to run and attack the uncle of lady Linara Lé Dic. But stops himself as he looks at the all the other nobleborn knights from the fief across the border to the east, who confronted sir Percavelle with him.
They all lie dead on the road here on the south side of the massive castle that's the ancestral home of the Lé Dic family.
Baron Harkonin's army commander glares at the former earl of Lé Dic who with ease, dispatched five of his fellow landed knights from the fief to the east.
And though they tried to attack the famous knight at once. And kind of achieved at times. They barely scratched the armour of the ordered knight.
Sir Taevar looks with disgust at the two weapons that sir Percavelle holds in his gauntleted hands. One a swordcatcher, or sometimes called a swordbreaker.
And the other, a strange looking weapon that looks like a long iron poinard, that has a lance like butt, as a hilt and grip.
Both weapons one would associate with a mercenary. Not a nobleborn knight. Especially a landed one from the rual, and conservative east of the kingdom of Druvic.
With a slow shake of his head, the Harkonin army commander backs up.
"Dost thou flee Taevar?" asks sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a cheerful manner, the nobleborn knight who is a member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che continues with "Such a disappointment you are Taevar. A thoroughly useless commander at arms, and a coward to boot".
The grinning former earl of Lé Dic then says "Slinking away after one little scuffle" the ordered knight looks around then says to the Harkonin army commander who is backing away "What dost thy men think of such a commander?" he then adds "Not much i would say".
The former knight of the first class briefly pauses, then he says "But i wonder what that self loathing cretin Raevar will say when you slink back to him with your tail between your legs, like the cowardly cur that you are".
Baron Harkonin's army commander snarls in outrage, then sir Taevar shouts "You pompous ass!" he follows that with "Do us all a favour and die!".
Then as he backs away along the road here on the south side of castle Lé Dic. Sir Taevar looks around at those Harkonin soldiers who are nearby, who have kept back from where the knights have been fighting.
After all, in a kingdom such as Druvic. When enemy noblemen fight. The common born soldier keeps well out of the way.
It's only when they're confronted by an enemy knight. Will a soldier of common birth, fight them in battle.
"Attack him!" shouts the Harkonin army commander, pointing his sword at the former earl of Lé Dic as he continues to back away along the road, heading further away from the moat, and the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che. Who is just as deadly and destructive in battle, as he's always been.
With resigned looks upon their faces. Those Harkonin soldiers who are nearby, who have yet to get on the water, to get over to the south wall of the massive castle that they're assaulting.
Move towards the former earl of the Lé Dic fief after being ordered to do so by their commander.
Sir Percavelle Lé Dic, or Percy as he's often commonly referred to, by the rest of the group.
Sourly smiles as he watches sir Taevar hurriedly back away along the road. While those nearby enemy soldiers approach him.
"And dost the coward flees back to his master" murmurs the former paladin with a shake of his full helm head as the Harkonin army commander, turns and basically runs away down the road.
Percy sighs, then drops his swordcatcher and the long, iron armour piercer into the heavy canvas bag at his feet.
Then he slaps closes his faceplate with a gauntleted hand. Then the heavily armoured knight grins, as he takes what looks like a long dagger, or a very shortsword. From the left hip on his belt.
He flips it in the air, catching it again by the hilt as he continues to grin. "Now who wishes to be first then chaps?" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic to the enemy soldiers, who now rush him.
I guess it will be you then, the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che thinks to himself, who sidesteps to one side, and thrusts the small sword forward at a Harkonin soldier who has just jabbed a short spear at him. Sir Percavelle Lé Dic hits him with the magical sword of knockdown.
Up on the south wall battlements of castle Lé Dic. Riley Hait the mercenary ranger rolls his eyes, and wryly smiles as he sees an enemy soldier across the moat, on the road. Go flying backwards with force, smashing into two of his fellow soldiers from the fief across the border to the east, before hitting the ground thirty feet from where he was just standing.
"Someone's using that damn sword of their's now" dryly murmurs Riley Hait the mercenary ranger in the hordes dialect of the southern tundra as he watches sir Percavelle Lé Dic down on the road, on the otherside of the moat from the south wall of his family's ancestral home.
The ranger Hait who just witnessed the former earl of Lé Dic dispatch five enemy knights quickly and with ease. Shakes his head as the knight in the order of Saint Mar-che is being surrounded by those enemy soldiers near the road. Who have yet to get on the rafts that are crossing the moat to the south wall of the massive castle.
The mercenary ranger from the elven principality of Envadarlen knows the enemy won't surround the former paladin for long. Not with him now using his magical sword. The sword of knockdown.
Harkonin soldiers go flying backwards one at a time. Smashing into those further behind them.
While others go tumbling sideways through the air when the former earl of Lé Dic hits them from the side with his sword of knockdown.
One of them even goes straight up into air, when the heavily armoured knight ducks down, and slams the sword of knockdown up into the groin of that Harkonin soldier.
Who goes flipping end over end as he goes up more than thirty feet into the air. Before he comes back down, crashing into two of his fellow soldiers in the army of baron Harkonin.
The mercenary ranger who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson, who by circumstances beyond his control, just so happens to find himself inhabiting the body of one, Riley Hait.
Takes one of the new arrows that's been handed out to him and the other archers along the south wall battlements. Puts it to his elven made longbow. Draws the weapon back, and lets the shaft fly.
The arrow slams into the back of a Harkonin soldier who runs at sir Percavelle Lé Dic from behind.
"Push them off!" shouts the ranger Hait as another scaling ladder goes up against the face of the wall, this one further to the left, or west of the gates here along the south side of the massive castle.
Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman who figures it must be late in the morning now, looks for another target. And spots one, when he sees an enemy soldier across on the otherside of the moat. Has loaded a crossbow, and has lifted it up.
And is waiting for the opportune time to shoot the former earl of Lé Dic. Who is surrounded for the most part. Though not for long, if he keeps hitting the Harkonin soldiers close to him, with his sword of knockdown.
The human ranger who was raised and trained by some of the elven warders in the principality of Envadarlen, notches another arrow. And draws it back as he takes aim. The ranger Hait shoots off the arrow, sending it flying towards the enemy soldier with the crossbow who is waiting for a clear shot to shoot sir Percavelle Lé Dic.
"Got him" murmurs Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy as he hits an enemy soldier with a bolt he shoots from his crossbow. The elf from the principality of Alínlae, is making his way along the top of the east wall of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for a number of centuries.
The spy Tanith rolls his eyes as he looks to where Dorc da Orc is across the otherside of the moat. The large ork is more towards the southeast corner of castle Lé Dic.
There he's fighting a number of knights from the fief across the border to the east.
And as Dalinvardél Tanith or Dalin as he's more commonly referred to, by the rest of the group. Suspected would happen, the ork warleader is having little trouble dealing with those landed knight from the Harkonin fief, who have ridden around from the south side of castle Lé Dic.
"Watch out for those down there!" calls out the elven spy who points to a couple of rafts being poled down the moat, towards the southeast corner of the massive castle, near where Dorkindle is fighting the enemy knights.
There's less defenders upon the top of the wall in that direction. And the spy Tanith sends a couple of townsmen that way to help out those down that end of the parapet.
Then Dalin glances back across the moat to where the large ork is. The elf who was once in the service of one of the more prominent noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae. Winces as he sees what the ork weaponsmith has just done.
"Cuntface" growls Dorc da Orc who has just been stabbed in the left arm with a sword. He whips his arm to the side. Yanking the sword, which is still in the fleshy part of his upper arm. Out of the hands of the enemy knight who has just stabbed him.
"Get some!" shouts the large ork who then brings his axe down, across the front of the noblemen infront of him.
The axe cuts down through the black, beak like faceplate of sir Amarnéré. The knight from the Harkonin fief, who is in a suit of white plate armour. With the exception of his helm, which is all black. Falls backwards, minus the front of his full helm, including the beak like visor. Not to mention the front of his head.
Dorkindle chortles, then says "Told ya, you a fucken cuntface" as he looks down at the dead landed knight from the fief across the border to the east "A fucken bloody cunt too" adds the ork warleader with a laugh.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks then grunts, as well as grimaces, as rips the sword out of his arm.
He then throws it at one of the two remaining knights to of confronted him. It's the one who has staggered his way alongside the moat. After being thrown from the saddle, after his horse was killed by a spear the large ork threw at it.
Sir Timack doesn't even see the sword that's been biffed at him, come his way. But he certainly feels it, as it hits him right in the middle of the breastplate as he's turning this way.
He's picked up off his feet, and flung backwards a good dozen feet, and hits the edge of the moat with a splash.
He wasn't killed by the impact of the sword hitting him, as it didn't go through his armour. But he's doing a fine job of dying now, by way of drowning. As he starts to sink in his heavy armour. More dazed than he was when he came staggering this way.
There's only one of the landed knights left from the Harkonin fief who came around from the south side of castle Lé Dic to confront the big, burly ork.
Sir Parnak, who slowly backs away as he grips his long handled hammer in his gauntleted hands.
The noblemen from the fief across the border to the east watches as the large ork steps over the dead body of sir Galbín. That knight's coppertone armour is badly dented in a number of places. Most of them caused by the fists of the large, green, creature. That sir Parnak now definitely believes is an ork.
As he backs away, the landed knight who led the others around to this side of the massive castle that's been the home of the Lé Dic family for generations.
Steps around the dead sir Lameré. Who had a broken arm earlier when he was propelled backwards off his horse when the shield he had up as he was riding. Was hit by a hammer thrown by the big, burly ork.
Sir Lameré now lies there on his side on the ground with not just a broken arm. But also two broken legs. Not to mention the spear that's completely through him.
A spear that's punched through his steel breastplate. Through his body, and out through his steel backplate.
Until he saw it, sir Parnak never thought a spear could go through heavy, steel plate so easily. As if it was shot like a missile from a ballista.
That was the force in which the spear went through sir Lameré, who was already down at the time after his legs were broken by a hammer that was flung low at him by the large ork.
Now sir Parnak finds himself alone against the big, burly ork. The closest help to him, is a some of the baron's soldiers on a couple of rafts on the water. Trying to put up their scaling ladders down this end of the long east wall of castle Lé Dic.
The rotund knight in the heavy iron plate armour gulps in fear. As the large ork, who not just has a face covered in blood. But also has blood splattered up and down the front of his body. Nearly all of it nobleborn blood from the dead knights in baron Harkonin's army he's just killed.
Starts stalking him, with an insane looking grin upon blood smeared face.
"You'sa gonna die motherfucker" chortles Dorc da Orc as he walks towards the landed knight wearing the heavy iron plate armour. The large ork reaches down and picks up the hammer he threw earlier that broke the legs of one of the enemy knights.
And as one of the dead knight's mounts runs by thirty yards behind him. Dorkindle throws his hammer at the retreating enemy nobleman, who is backing up towards the moat which is behind him.
Sir Parnak ducks, swinging his long handled hammer to protect himself as he does so. He probably shouldn't of swung his hammer. As he would of avoided the hammer that was just thrown at him anyway.
For as it turns out, he swings his long handled hammer into the path of the thrown hammer, hitting it. The force of the impact knocks him down, and knocks his long handled hammer out of his gauntleted hands with a violent shudder.
Sir Parnak winces at the shock he felt going up his arms at his hammer getting knocked out of his hands. And as he goes to get up, he looks up, and finds the big burly ork standing over him.
"Going somewhere cunt?" asks the warleader of ork race, who stands on the enemy knight's hammer as the nobleman tries to grab it.
Sir Parnak yanks a long dagger from his belt, and rams it into the left calf of the large ork standing over him.
The ork weaponsmith growls after getting stabbed in the leg, he bends down and punches the nobleborn knight.
"Ouchies" mutters Dorkindle as he shakes his right hand after punching the prone knight in the breastplate.
And though he dented the heavy iron plate. It's no where near the size of a dent he would normally punch into heavy steel plate armour.
The son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of the orks, reaches down and rips out the long dagger that's in his left leg, he throws it away. Then he grabs the prone knight on the ground, who is trying to roll away.
"Na cunt, me got you" says Dorc da Orc as he holds the nobleborn knight by the left arm, and starts dragging him towards the moat, which isn't all that far away.
The ork warleader is grinning as he makes his way to the water, while sir Parnak tries to struggle free. To no avail, as the large ork has a firm grip upon his left arm.
The ork weaponsmith who hails from the southern polar region of the world. Briefly hisses in anger and disgust as he stops at the water's edge.
Then he picks up the nobleman he's got a hold of, and tells him "Time for you to go for a little swim ya cunt".
"No!" shouts sir Parnak in panic, as he's picked up off the ground, then lifted up above the head of the big, burly ork.
The rotund knight, who weighs a fair bit to begin with. And is a hell of lot heavier as he's in his full suit of iron plate.
Tries to struggle out of the grip of the large ork, who holds him up above his head. Then sir Parnak feels himself thrown through the air, out across the moat.
There's a moment of brief silence, then he screams in absolute panic. Just before he hits the surface of the water, about fifteen feet out from the edge of the moat.
Dorc da Orc chuckles, then murmurs "Dumb fucken cunt, wearing that dumb fucken armour" as the enemy knight in the suit of heavy iron plate armour sinks quickly below the surface of the water, and even quicker out of sight as he sinks like the proverbial stone.
There's a wide grin upon his face as he sees the panicked ripples upon the surface of the water. Which doesn't last long, as that enemy knight isn't going to resurface anytime soon, or for that matter, ever.
Then the warleader of the ork race grunts as he looks across the moat, to a pair of rafts, that have a number of enemy soldiers on them.
"Now how me s'pose to get to them cunts and kill 'em?" mutters Dorkindle as he watches those enemy soldiers across the moat at the base of the east wall of castle Lé Dic . . . . . .

The Homecoming 124.

Fight Or Flight...

The dark druid Palvarc hits the ground and rolls. And narrowly avoids the white ball of strange energy, that passes to his right.
The advisor to baron Harkonin, who makes sure to keep a hold of his staff.
Looks up as the short fellow wearing the odd conical shaped hat disappears from sight again.
The practitioner of magic from the fief to the east, looks away to his right, and sees the ship's sorcerer running across the hilltop.
The strange white ball of energy coming down from the late morning sky, hits the ground just behind the officer from the downed airship. And it dissipates without doing any damage.
The dark druid's staff swings towards the ship's sorcerer. Baron Harkonin's advisor, who assumes the officer from the warship that lies near the base of the hill, is about to cast.
Blinks in surprise as the sorcerer in the kingdom's aircorp. Comes to a halt, then topples over sideways, and hits the ground.
Helbe the elven thief shifts away after knocking out the sorcerer who joined the dark druid upon the hilltop.
The blurred and shielded elven magic user, shifts to where he's taken Shur Kee the monk. On the deck of the downed frigate lying at the base of the hill.
Looking at a few of the survivors who are climbing down off the airship that he brought down. The elven masterthief sees that the second of the ship's boats, is putting down near the first. Which is about forty yards behind the downed frigate that's part of the personal fleet of the lord high constable of Druvic.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, glances at the short, statured monk who is blurred to everyone else.
And he notices that the jade shard he wears on a silver chain around his neck, is no longer glowing green.
"You okay?" quietly asks Helbe the elven thief, as they stand near the poop deck of the downed airship.
"Your pendant isn't glowing anymore" quietly adds the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel.
"I cannot sustain the meditative state indefinitely" quietly says Shur Kee the monk as the two of them watch a pair of air sailors help one of their fellow crew over the port rail near where the aft mast is down over the side of the ship, and down a cargo net the survivors of the crashed airship are using to get off the destroyed frigate.
"I need a bit of time before i can go back into the state of incarnation" quietly adds the short, statured monk who hails from the far east coast of the continent, from the kingdom of Wah Lee.
"Not long i hope?" quietly asks the elven master assassin, who though he hopes the acolyte in the order of Bru Li can eliminate the dark druid Palvarc. He has one other option up his sleeve. Though he doesn't particularly want to use it.
Though it's not up to him. It's up to her.
"No, not that long" quietly says the physical adept in response to the elven princeling's question. "Not long at all" adds Shur Kee a few moments later, who reaches up and clutches the jade pendant he wears around his neck.
He let's go of it, and the shard of dark green jade is once again glowing.
"Ready when you are friend Helbe" quietly says the short, statured monk who speaks in a slow, deliberate way when he's in a meditative state.
Though when he's in the midst of combat. He shouts as he fights. Shouts in a voice that you don't usually hear from the usually soft spoken acolyte in the order of Bru Li.
The highly talented elven spellcaster takes hold of the right arm of the physical adept. And he shifts them away, up into the sky.
In a blink of an eye whilst in mid air, he shifts again. Shur Kee to the hilltop below, and him to somewhere else. As he does, he once again drops the blur spell from the short, statured monk. As his unique power, when he unleashes it. Pretty much negates all magical spells upon him, as well as at him.
The dark druid's staff points down to the otherside of the hill, the side that the downed frigate is at the base of.
Baron Harkonin's advisor sourly smiles as he figures the hidden spellcaster, who is more than annoying to say the least. Is somewhere down on the the destroyed airship, or near it.
Palvarc looks down at the sorcerer lying flat on his face, and finds the man is only unconscious.
The dark druid quickly revives the unconscious sorcerer with a spell, and as the ship's officer groans as he wakes up, Palvarc the dark druid says to him "Get up" followed by "And ward yourself" he then silently adds in a dry tone, not that it'll help you if you get hit by one of those balls of whatever the hell it is.
The spellcaster from the Harkonin fief glances up, then away to the south, as he staff jerks upright in his hands, then away to the left, to the south. Indicating where the hidden spellcaster is.
The dark druid who wonders how the hell someone can move that fast by spellcraft, since even the quickest of teleportation spells takes a few moments to cast, and to reappear where you want to teleport to. The shorter the distance, the quicker the teleportation.
But the hidden spellcaster, is moving about so ridiculously fast. That Palvarc wonders if they're actually teleporting. Not to mention they're also moving the short, fellow in the odd, conical shaped hat about in the same way.
"Hell" mutters the ship's sorcerer next to the dark druid as baron Harkonin's advisor is about to plant his staff on the ground, with the top touching the ground. For then it can also sense any movement in the vicinity. Not just spellcraft and magic, as well as practitioners of magic.
Palvarc spins as the ship's officer, who has just stood upright, after getting up off the ground, is going to cast after he puts up a barrier spell around himself.
"Move you fool!" shouts the dark druid from the Harkonin fief as he sees the short individual, wearing the strange white clothing, and an even stranger hat. Standing just thirty feet from the two spellcasters.
Palvarc is already moving as he sees the short fellow, who has his hands down by his side, thrust them up and forward, as he shouts "Bru Li spirit!".
Once again baron Harkonin's advisor wonders what that means. He might not know. But what he does know, is that the nine foot wide ball of white looking energy heading this way. Is dangerous to say the least. And probably deadly if one is to be hit by it directly.
As it nears them, and he dives out the way. The practitioner of magic from the fief across the border to the east, grimaces as the senses a fairly decent sized fireball behind him,
Palvarc hits the ground, then looks back. And sees the fireball cast by the ship's sorcerer heading straight at the strange white ball of energy.
It doesn't go far the ten foot wide ball of liquid fire. Barely travels a dozen feet before it runs into the approaching ball of strange energy that the short fellow in the odd looking hat, sent hurtling this way.
The dark druid blinks in surprise when the fireball hits the strange ball of white energy. It just blinks out. As though it never existed. As though the ship's sorcerer never cast it.
Palvarc has never seen a spell drop like that before in his life. Not even when a spellcaster dies with a spell still active. Disappear so quickly as the sorcerer's fireball did just then.
He's even more surprised that the ball of strange looking white energy doesn't seem to be effected at all. As it just continues on it's path in this direction.
And though baron Harkonin's advisor has dived out of the way of it. Not so the sorcerer from the downed frigate.
Who stands there utterly dumbfounded that his fireball has disappeared without a trace.
And with a look of total incomprehension upon his face. The officer from the destroyed airship that lies at the base of the hill.
Is hit full on by the strange looking white ball of energy, that is not magical in any way.
Palvarc draws in a sharp breath as the ship's sorcerer who has his barrier and protection spells snuffed out by the strange ball of white energy. Is picked up off the ground, and with his arms and legs spread akimbo, he's flung backwards through the air.
He goes flying backwards at speed. And he arcs back, and goes flying off the top of the hill, before disappearing from sight down the side of the hill.
The dark druid who saw the bewildered look upon the face of the ship's sorcerer when he went flying back through the air.
Senses for the officer from the downed frigate as the ball of strange white energy goes off the side of the hill, and continue through the air for about hundred feet like the previous one's did, and like them it disappears.
Baron Harkonin's advisor can't sense the destroyed warship's sorcerer. Nor can his staff sense him. Palvarc knows the spellcaster in the personal fleet of the lord high constable of the kingdom. Lies dead somewhere down the side of the hill.
The dark druid who is lying on the ground, looks forward, and he lifts his arms up, and plants his staff into the ground, tip first as he looks at the short fellow in the odd hat, who looks this way.
Baron Harkonin's advisor, unleashes the full power of his magical staff. A staff that was crafted by a woodsman many years ago. Which came into the possession of a dark cleric, or necromancer over fifty years ago. Who turned a mundane staff, into a magical one.
Who rose some dead individual from their grave. And controlled that poor undead soul, to capture a ground pixie of all things. Who now wingless, and crippled. Lies trapped within the gnarled, fist sized gnarled top of the staff.
A staff that came into the possession of the dark druid who searched throughout the kingdom of Druvic, and surrounding lands. For anything to give him an advantage in spreading the old ways, the dark druidic ways.
The earth is ripped apart, and torn apart, and flung into the air, as a crack appears across the hilltop. From where Palvarc has his staff in the ground, to where the short individual in the funny looking white clothing, and wearing the strange looking hat is standing.
Just as the ground erupts upwards where that man stands, he vanishes from sight as the earth continues to be torn apart and thrown upwards along the top of the hilltop.
"Hell that was close" says Helbe the elven thief as he and Shur Kee the monk float in the sky, about a hundred yards further east of the hilltop.
The young elven noble who knows the short, statured monk can protect himself from direct attacks from magic. Knows it's a little harder for the acolyte in the order of Bru Li to protect himself from indirect attacks from magic. Or to be exact, the indirect effects of spellcraft.
Such as the earth being torn apart, and thrown up right beneath him.
The elven princeling has seen Shur Kee protect himself in the past by something similar. A large building falling on top of him by Mira Reinholt the mage who was more than a little careless with what one of his mageglobes blew up when they, and the group at the time were across the Great Western Ocean, in the cities of Nors And Tran.
And how the physical adept was buried in rubble. But safe inside of one of his balls, or orbs of what the young elven noble understands to be made up of spirit energy.
"You okay?" asks the grandson of Prince Raendril of Laerel as they float in the air, unseen by anyone. While they watch the top of the hilltop crack open. From where the dark druid lies upon the ground holding his staff.
To where the physical adept was just standing, further across the hilltop, then down one side of the hill, going a good sixty to seventy feet down that side of the hill.
The crack is a foot or so wide in some places, to over a dozen feet in others. Being as shallow as a few inches in places, to as deep as dozen feet in some other places. Soil and rocks from the crack is strewn across the hilltop, and down the side of the hill that's been torn up.
"I am fine friend Helbe" says Shur Kee in a slow voice as he replies to the highly talented elven magic user.
"Well, we've pissed him off for sure" quietly says prince Helbenthril Raendril, who spots some of the crew from the downed frigate. Some from the crashed warship itself. And others from the two ship's boats that have set down behind the destroyed airship.
Making their way up the hill the dark druid Palvarc is on. Until they feel, and see what's just happened. As the crack in the ground comes down the side of the hill, that they're heading up.
"Keep at it" says the elven master assassin, who shifts Shur Kee down to the hilltop, where the dark druid is standing up again. While he shifts away to the north. When he reappears there, he has to quickly shift away again as a beam of dark, green, malevolent energy comes shooting his way.
Palvarc the dark druid growls in anger under his breath as he shoots of a beam of energy from the tip of his staff, up into the sky to the north where his staff indicates the hidden spellcaster is.
Baron Harkonin's advisor scowls as his staff jerks to the west, to show him where the hidden practitioner of magic is now.
The dark druid doesn't look that way, because out of the corner of his eye. He sees that the short fellow wearing the odd looking hat, has appeared on the hilltop again.
Fucking hell, damn it! Palvarc thinks to himself in disgust as he goes to cast a spell as he sees what the short, statured individual is doing again.
The dark druid is already moving as he needs a few moments to continue casting his spell. He jumps over the crack in the ground, and grimaces as the short fellow in the strange clothing, and wearing an even stranger looking hat. Turns so he continues to face him.
Palvarc sees him thrust his arms, and hands out infront of himself, and once again shout "Bru Li spirit!".
Come on! baron Harkonin's advisor thinks to himself as he grips his staff as another of the balls of strange white energy forms, and comes barreling towards him.
The dark druid almost breathes a sigh of relief as his spell is complete. And with the nine foot ball of strange white energy less than twenty feet from him, Palvarc disappears as he teleports as faraway as he possibly can.
A moment later, and prince Helbenthril Raendril collects Shur Kee the monk. And he shifts eastwards in pursuit of the dark druid Palvarc who is heading that way.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel shifts half a dozen times, before he and the short statured monk, freefall through the air, with the elven magic user holding onto the physical adept by way of a spell.
"Need a moment" explains Helbe the elven thief as they fall from the sky, who continues with "Have to teleport" as he looks to the east, and north where he senses baron Harkonin's advisor is going.
Then the two of them disappear, as they chase after the dark druid Palvarc. Who decided that flight would be a better option, than to fight against an opponent he had no answers to . . . . . .

The Homecoming 123.

Fight!...

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

The Homecoming 122.

Flight...

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

The Homecoming 121.

A Find...

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

The Homecoming 120.

Warleader...

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

The Homecoming 119.

Ebbs & Flows...

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