The Siege of Castle Caldwell: The Long Night. (Defenders: IC)

[OrganicEvil]

The one who had taken the name Leserfe stifled a yawn. It's not that it was a bad speech, exactly, though she'd heard better. She'd have probably gone with the 'women and children' angle, herself. The fear of death could be a good motivator for a time, but once things started going badly, it gave rise to panic in the ranks. Women and children, though, men had an awful thing about protecting women and children, and this castle was the first line of defense for all these soldier's families. Leserfe laughed softly to herself. Cor, but I sound a right scholar! And, she admitted, a bit of a hypocrite as well. She would die in a heartbeat for Aalis or Melisende. She winced. Best not to think of Melisende. The princess had been so angry when she left, so angry she was going, though whether at her mother, Leserfe, or the world in general was hard to say. But Leserfe would survive, and she'd come back, and her Melisende would call her a great galumphing idiot again with tears in her eyes, and then... Best not to think on that. As inconspicuously as she could, she slipped out. She would wait up on the wall.

Outside, she was alone, and she was Ancelle. In front of the men, she had to be their Captain; she had to be a man too. But here, with her breath misting white in the night's chill, there were no eyes on her. She crossed the courtyard slowly, one step at a time, and slowly she climbed the stairs. Upon reaching the ramparts she straightened and rested one hand on the hilt of her nameless sword. "What cheer, men? Weather still fair out?" She didn't look at the troops as she spoke, instead staring out over the ramparts at the pitch-dark water below. Soon, it would be time. Then would come the screaming and the shouting, the burning and the dying; the waves would froth a red as deep as wine. Memory rose unbidden, a conversation with Melisende. It had been early days yet, then, awkward and unsure. The rightness she had felt, folded close in the heavy curtains of Melisende's canopied bed with the princess curled up in her arms, had revolted her. "Cor, my Lady," she had giggled. "If anyone finds this out, we could be hanged."

Melisende had sat up, doing her best to look prim. She pulled it off surprisingly well, for being naked and sweaty and her hair all a mess."You would be hanged, of course, but I am far too pretty to dance the wind," she had said, laying a hand on her chest. "Besides, even a backwoods bumpkin like you should know that royals are beheaded." She had smiled then; her smile was like the moon. "But that shan't happen; I have already lost the only head I care to." Then they had kissed. For another kiss like that, Leserfe would survive a thousand sieges.

"I am far too pretty to dance the wind," she muttered, staring off into the night.

Soon...

Spoiler: Actions

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Move to the wall.
Perception from ramparts: (1d20)[7]
GM: Assume that Leserfe took 10 on her Disguise check today to appear male.