Joe woke up to an overcast sky and the gentle reek of his horse-lover, who slumbered directly ontop of him. Her massive weight pressed warmly, comfortably, on him. He was tempted to fall back asleep, so comfy was he under his six hundred pound blanket. But no, he glanced around, the other soldiers, scattered throughout the castle’s snowy courtyard in cloth and armor heaps, were beginning to wake up. They threw off their less organic blankets and stood, some grumbling, but most laughing. Joe saw two men wearing Confederacy heraldry throwing snowballs, like big dumb idiots. A few men were trickling up to the castle walls, preparing for battle.
Joe bit Champion Courser’s face. “WAKE UP!” he screamed. She screamed too, lurching to her feet in a frenzy of stamping hooves and flying snow. Joe stood up, slightly trampled, and stretched. “I’ll get my armor on and get on the walls, horse-woman,” he said. “You have to stay down here because you’re fucking useless in a siege. Not sure why I brought you.” He frowned. “Hospitallers will no take Sungetchegetchedicks from the FCC, no today.”
Without another word he ran up the stairs and joined the other soldiers on the wall. He shouldered his way through the press of men to peer through the crenulations. Just then a banner mounted on a staff appeared in the sky. It soared through the air, thrown like a spear from Sungetche’s walls, landing in the snow a hundred yards away. He heard Artyem’s voice. “Hospitaller’s spawn over there!” he shouted. “On the flag!”
“Artyem!” The voice of Artyem’s rumored man-beast lover, Larry the Magical Cheetah, hummed over the crowd. “ARTYEM I’M GOING TO KISS YOU NOW! YOU KNAVE!”
“OH LARRY!” Joe heard what was definitely ass-slapping and purring. Somebody was crying.
Joe was confused. Usually the battle’s leader threw the flag, but Artyem wasn’t in the FCC. He looked around, and noted that there were shit-tons of Raven and Dracul baddies here. He cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he said aloud, “This is an FCC castle right?”
A few people laughed. That ninja woman warrior princess—Gmnotutoo—shouted from somewhere along the wall, “This is a Confederacy fief, Joe! We lost this shit a while ago!”
Joe cursed. He’d defended this place so many times; he’d just assumed it was theirs and that the evil Hospitallers were trying to take it. The Confederacy was full of evil baddies who’d attacked the FCC a few months ago, only to give up because they weren’t as awesome as they thought they were (rekt). He did not trust them. He looked at the painted shield of the Dracul man beside him. The serpent and the raven looked like they were kissing. They were all man-lovers, dammit.
Suddenly fifty heavily armored men crested the hill on which Artyem had flung the flag. They bore the Hospitaller cross, and charged with abandon at the castle, braving a hail of bolts and arrows (but no javelins, fuck throwers!).
The soldiers around Joe tense, preparing for siege ladders and hordes of bad guys.
The Hospitallers got to the foot of Joe’s tower, and stopped. Joe peered down at them. The enemy was milling about, like ducks. He heard some confused mumbling below him. One of the men swung a sword at the tower half-heartedly.
Somebody cried, “Oh wow! They don’t have ladders!” And everybody laughed at the soldiers below, who continued to get shot at.
A Hospitaller shouted up from below, “Hey! Hey, we’re gear bugged! We’ve got too much shit!”
Joe started up a slow clap. In a few seconds maybe half of the castle was clapping sarcastically. The other half was busy slinging arrows into the confused mass of soldiers below.
After the first wave died the second wave approached, this one completely naked. They stumbled into volleys of crossbow bolts and arrows, their arms stacked high with weapons. Some of the Hospitallers were killing each other, in a bid to use up equipment. A pile of naked bodies was beginning to form outside the castle.
Joe taunted them, shouting through cupped hands. “HEY NERDS! TOO MUCH GEAR FROM YOUR EU OVERLOARDS?”
Some Raven guy high-fived him amidst cries of, “rekt!” and “gottem!”
Eventually the enemy appeared with ladders, and the fun began in earnest. Joe was happy to see hundreds of people killed over the battle’s course. At one point a Remnant soldier whose face Joe recognized, Dynamike, appeared utop a ladder opposite from Joe. He ran towards him, sword raised, “Hey Joe!” he said. “I—” But a crossbow bolt punched through the side of his helmet and he fell of the ladder and died.
By the end of it the Confederacy had withdrawn to the castle’s rear in a bid to not all die. Joe stood shoulder to shoulder with men who, it turned out, were just as terrible at following orders as their erstwhile enemies, the FCC. “Stay out of the courtyard. Stay out of the courtyard.” Artyem pleaded, over and over. But no one listened, and many good men died splendidly.
Once it was all over everybody began lining up for victory blowjobs from Larry. Joe got in line behind Confederacy players who, he realized, were just as terrible as the FCC and definitely gayer, and so were actually pretty cool and not evil like Kesh had Joe thinking they were.