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Out across a wide expanse of field, a castle sat fat and tall with deep trenches around it. The drawbridges were up, the gates were closed, and the archers were mounted on the walls. Across the grassy stretch of land, an encampment stood watch over the castle. Dotted among the tents of the encampment were banners bearing a sigil of a white and gold claw. The banners stood tall in defiance to the castle and the armored folk among them stood just as tall. Among these banners, the sound of sword on sword could be heard along with a woman's voice calling advice and admonishments. The voice belonged to the leader of the brigade of knights, Syrilla Ester.

The cream furred leader of the encampment stepped forward to swing the dull practice sword at the soldier who had asked for advice. She could see his defense was solid and he parried her blows without a problem, but he made no move to attack as she feinted and pretended to falter. Taking a defensive stance, the sturdy looking canine stepped, knee bending as he swung wide. Syrilla pressed the flat of her sword against his to bring it up and to the side. She wrapped her sword arm around his elbow to lock him in place. Syrilla then slammed her armored shoulder into his neck hard enough to make him feel the mistake. He backed away coughing and cursing his regrets.

Syrilla breathed out and stuck her blade in the ground to put her paw out to give a duelist shake, "You did well with your defense ,but you need to remember to keep that defense up after every strike. Don't just think the sword will kill you. Man has a tiny buckler? He'll jam it into your fat nose and make you regret your wide, sloppy swings. We'll be here for a bit, so practice up."

The canine slammed his fist to his chest and picked up his sword. Syrilla turned to step away, her tail flicking and her eyes focused on the castle across the field. There was the castle of the man who had refused to pay taxes to his liege and claimed himself as some sort of sovereign ruler of the land. He pretended and whined that he could be a better ruler, but the man probably just didn't want to pay taxes even though he was filthy rich. Her father had been charged with taking the castle from the loaf and so he had sent her in his stead along with her brigade. She hated boring assignments and this siege was certainly one of those. They had archers on the wall that peppered anyone that got too close, and Syrilla wouldn't want to lose too many of her fighters. She had already lost a messenger vying for the useless request of surrender. High walls made it difficult for ladders and other basic siege-fare, they didn't have any mages with powerful enough magic to break the walls or open the doors. They would also have to ford the moat and she hated to get wet in armor. Though she loved her father, she had to admit that he had been foolish to send her out without any siege weaponry. She could starve the fool out of his castle, but that was boring. Luckily, she had a meeting with a certain vagabond that would surely end this little stand still.

Syrilla arrived at her command tent with little interruption and a bit too early for the meeting, or perhaps her contact was late. Inside of her tent and behind the closed flap she began to strip out of her armor. Hard leather was set aside to be put on again later along with her boots and she stretched wide with her tail raising. It felt good to just be about in her underwear. While she waited for her contact, she took a seat on the cot and laid sword and sheath across her lap to inspect her personal blade; she didn't have long to do that. Snapping the blade back in place, her ears raised as she heard a voice calling from behind the tent flap, "Lady! I checked out the nut you want me to crack like y'said and I have my estimates."

Syrilla took hold of the sheath and set it aside, one leg crossed over the other as the weasel vagabond she had hired stepped in. He wore a tattered cloak over his doublet and trousers, fine kept belts holding casks and pouches along with the stray flask of something she assumed was full of alcohol. His fur was white and fairly scruffy with one of his ears blackened, no doubt from his art. The weasel known as Corvi kept on going on and on about estimates, but paused in place and gawked as he saw her sitting there in nothing but lacy undergarments. She swore she saw a bit of pink beneath his white fluffed cheeks, cute enough. While he stood there flustered, she began, "So, what are your estimates then. I asked for a report on what you could do and how much it would cost me, so give that report."

Corvi cleared his throat and scratched at one ear before speaking, "Right right. So, this is gonna cost you a major bit of coin. If y'want me to blow a hole in the side and make a bridge with that, that I can do, but for a price. Five bags. Gold flat coins. I travel lots so I need the common currency if y'catch my drift."

Syrilla raised a brow. Gold flat coins were a currency accepted by most Kingdoms, even some overseas, but five bags worth was ludicrous. No, she had a better idea. Setting her foot down so her slender legs were together she shut her eyes and hummed, "Perhaps. I'd prefer the price of three instead."

The weasel crossed his arms and dug a claw against his chin, "No, no that doesn't sound good. Materials aren't free and I'd be risking my life too."

Syrilla chuckled, "Yes, but what if I offered extra services along with the three small bags?"

Corvi raised a brow at that, ignoring her mention of small bags, "Come again?"

Syrilla opened her legs just a bit as she continued on, "Extra services along with the three bags. Would you take that deal."

The weasel was quick to step closer, his eyes on her legs as he remarked, "Extra services? And what do you mean by that to be clear?"

Syrilla purred, "Why, of course I mean the food and water we give you and our protection in the upcoming battle."

Corvi's ears flicked back and he narrowed his eyes, his brown gaze on her own two blue eyes as she tilted her head and smirked. From where she sat she could see him pitching a nice tent just for her. He had stepped in close enough to take a metal flask from his belt. Before he could complain she popped it open and took a drink. She didn't mind the burning of the alcohol on her throat, in fact, she welcomed it. When Syrilla finished it she let out a puff of breath, "Relax. You had the right read the first time. I only tease."

Already he was adjusting his trousers, but Syrilla brought her foot up to press against his bulge, "Ah-ah-ah. You'll be paid after the battle."

Corvi huffed but took the flask gingerly from her paw when she offered it. He took a pull of the alcohol himself before tucking it away and giving her strong calf a squeeze, "So, yer gonna keep me blue balled 'till the battle is said and done?"

Syrilla shrugged, "Hm, when you put it like that. I should at least let you calm down. I'm sure a cold bath would do just fine."

Corvi pushed her leg aside and stepped just a bit closer. A daring male and one that gave her a bit of lip, that she could respect even if she was liable to slap him upside the head if he stepped out of line, "I'd rather use that pretty mouth of yours."

Syrilla thought of that for a moment and giggled. Truth be told, she had planned on only toying with him and cutting him dry, but why not? It would be fun, and that she cherished the most. Sliding her leg from his hold she brought herself down on her knees just before him. As he tried to move his paws to push his trousers down, she slid a claw up his bulge. He winced and watched as Syrilla freed his cock through a slit she had made. The feline looked up with innocent blue eyes as she held his cock in paw, her lips just barely touching the tip of his member. Rather than huff, he played her game by grabbing her ear and tugging her mouth against his cock. What a bold move, especially since she still had her sword in her other paw, but she allowed it for now.

She opened her mouth to take in the tip of his cock, her tongue flicking against the bottom of it. She trailed it up and around the tip as the weasel holding onto her ear shivered. Syrilla purred around his member, stroking what she did not have in her mouth. Soon she felt him begin to push and thrust to her mouth with little fear. Again, she could respect the enthusiasm and felt her own body turn warm from the treatment, her tongue gladly pressing against his shaft.

Syrilla's eyes then opened wide as every inch of his cock was pressed inside of her maw and his balls were touching her chin. She gagged and narrowed her eyes to look up at him with an accusatory glance. Corvi simply continued grinding his cock into her mouth as he made his excuse, "Sorry, gotta hurry up if I wanna set up right?"

Syrilla remained still for now as the weasel used her mouth. She flicked her tongue against his member and accepted his challenge by pushing herself against his cock firmly, her mouth taking in every inch without a problem. She could feel his twitching, his cock growing hotter, his grip on her ear tightening. He really did intend to make it quick, which would certainly minimize the chance of one of her soldiers coming in on this. Soon enough the weasel thrust one last time into her mouth, his cock twitching against her tongue and throat violently before letting out a gush of warm cum that created a warm pit in her stomach. When he pulled free she grabbed his thigh and squeezed, claws digging in as she got up. He winced and his ears drew back as she moved to face him. His eyes then grew wide as she passed her lips against his and pushed her tongue into his mouth to transfer half of his own seed into his mouth before pulling away to swallow what was in her mouth.

Either because he was a trooper, or because he didn't expect it, he swallowed what she had given him. She brought up her sword still in its sheath to tap the pommel against his cheek while she squeezed harder on his thigh much to his dismay while she purred out, "I like it rough, I like someone who can challenge me, but you better believe that I'm going to be just as rough sweet weasel. Now, can you set up those explosives for a night raid?"

Corvi gulped and nodded, "Yeah, of course. No trouble. Just uh, when night falls I'll set up the bombs and you just need to ready your troops for attack."

Syrilla smiled and planted a kiss on his nose before stepping away from him, "Good! Dismissed."

With that, the nervous weasel fixed his trousers and trotted out of the tent. Syrilla would assemble her men and have that castle by the next day no trouble, of course, that is if everything went correctly. In a direct confrontation, she was sure her men would outdo the castle defenders, but there was always the chance of something going wrong. She certainly hoped her new vagabond friend would survive the encounter, how else was she going to pay him? Truthfully, she was looking forward to his payment as well. She rarely ever met a man who desired to challenge her and rarely met someone who traveled as well. In truth, she also desired to hear a bit about his life. He had claimed he needed the coin to travel and she loved hearing tales from other lands and places. Being a knight pledged to a lord could be so boring, ah well. She had a job to do and she would do it without complaint. Tonight, heads would fly.

The night was young when it began. Under the shadow of the night, the brigade had mobilized as close to the castle as possible without stirring the watch. They could all see the torches on the wall marking where the watch guards were waiting for just such a nightly attack, but she wondered if they expected an explosive opening. At some point, the only sound among her men were the sounds of the occasional nervous shuffle of metal and leather. Her brigade was probably wondering if they could trust such a vagabond to keep his promise, and indeed, she wondered that herself.

A chill ran through the column of armored troops waiting for battle. The wind blew from behind them towards the castle and suddenly stopped as if to signal a foul omen. Every single soldier's face was illuminated by a white and red explosion that billowed and towered above the castle wall they faced. The explosion sent a gust of wind that blew against them and nearly knocked Syrilla off of her feet. Her eyes were wide as she heard the roar of flames, the sound of a tower bell calling men to arms and folk to put out the raging fire. The blazing inferno before her illuminated a portion of the wall that had crumbled and created a bridge over the moat. It was a terrifying sight that had her heart racing, but she brought her sword into the air and called, "Charge! Take the castle while they're reeling!"

A roar sounded off from her brigade and they charged together towards the castle. The archers on the wall had been displaced by the explosion that had destroyed a great section of the protective barrier and when they arrived at the makeshift bridge, there were barely any defenders. All steady hands were putting out fires and trying to regroup, at the same time, more explosions sounded off from other portions of the castle. It was madness. She had asked for a hole in a wall, not a blazing hell spawned before them. She'd have to talk to the weasel after this about moderation, but on they went.

Through the courtyard of the castle, her brigade made their mark. They took those who surrendered without pause and killed those who struggled. She heard a haggard voice calling out for the defenders to gather and regroup, "Cowards! Cowards the lot of you! I am the lord of this castle and I will see you die before I see it fall to such tactics!"

Syrilla made her way up the far stairs while the battle continued on in the courtyard. She found the source of the voice wearing plate, his helmet blasted off to reveal the ram's face. One of his horns had been cut off and one eye was shut with blood from a wound at his head. When he saw her he drew a vicious looking claymore and snarled, "You! You've done this! Couldn't wait for me to die of old age or just sit there pretty while we starved to death eh?"

Syrilla answered to angered false lord by preparing her own blade, her eyes narrowed as she spoke, "More exciting this way isn't it? Already your men are falling, surrendering even. Do you give in?"

The man let out a violent bleat and struck his chest, "As if I would even think of it! Even with this shut eye, I'll split your skull."

Syrilla kept her ground. She was all too wary. He was backed into a corner and pumped full of adrenaline. She could see his nostrils flaring in the firelight, his body rising and falling as he held his blade in a haphazard manner. At this point, he wouldn't care if she killed him so long as she died in the process. She'd have to be careful.

The dance began with a charge. The ram's hooven metal boots struck the stonework with such force she was sure he was going to crack the ground beneath them. He was on her in a breath and she had to defend herself quick. Sidestepping she found herself needing to duck a swing from his blade, but when she came to counter-strike his fist covered in a gauntlet came on by and she had to leap away. For one second she felt her ankle nearly slip off the edge before she regained her footing to assess the situation. He held the fat blade aloft with one hoof and rested it over his shoulder in a cleaving stance. From his flared nostrils he huffed a mist. At last, she called out, "What is your name!"

The old ram bleated and pounded his chest, "I am Raymond Telthur lord of this castle and the highlands surrounding it. What is your name, agile knight?"

Syrilla hissed as she crouched, "I am Syrilla Ester and I need no title. I live for the thrill and I will pierce that rusted metal hull of yours"

With what honor they had given each other over, the battle began anew. Syrilla was the aggressor this time stepping to his swinging range and avoiding it, but rather than avoid his fist she took her sword by the blade and slammed the guard into it. The metal dented and Syrilla had to pull back from the two forces meeting. The ram let out a bellow of pain and withdrew his broken hoof with a curse, but his other hoof swung the blade freely. Syrilla moved just in time to avoid having an ear lopped off and again found herself in the neutral, bringing her blade up in guard. The pain of his injury only seemed to make the ram that more intent on charging her.

The self-proclaimed Lord Telthur approached her with that same ferocity he had shown before. He swung with one arm and she backed away, but this time stepped towards her to close the gap between them. She narrowed her eyes and moved into his approach. Both of his arms were coming around her to crush her but she leaped and brought her shoulder into his chin. By the gods and hells and heavens what a foolhardy idea. With her heart pounding, Syrilla pushed herself back, her shoulder aching from the impact. Was his chin made of metal!?

Her opponent recovered from his momentary reeling. He adjusted his chin and spat out blood, again adjusting his stance. She could see that his chest was rising up and down. He was tiring. Both his wound and his constant frenzy must have taken a toll, but that didn't mean it was over. Syrilla saw him begin to circle her. He kept his sword ready to cleave her if she got too close. He was dangerous with that thing and could swing it so fast. She had poured a lot of energy into avoiding it and found her own body tiring as she circled with the old ram.

Again, Syrilla was the first to make the move. She thrust at his wrist and he avoided it deftly while bringing his own blade down. Syrilla had only thrust halfway, pulling her sword back and slamming it down on his as if to challenge his strength. He took the bait and tried to wrench his sword free with all of his might, but Syrilla did not waste her strength on that. Instead, she charged in while his sword was still swinging and stuck the man in his throat. Even as he dropped his own sword, he grabbed her blade and squeezed tight enough to fracture the blade. Syrilla could feel his strength through the grip and let go of her sword, unable to push it any further for a killing blow, but it was still over.

The lord of the castle threw down Syrilla's blade, the tip wet with his blood and he gasped out, grasping at his throat, "I will not die here like this. This castle is mine."

Syrilla panted, "If you live...I'd offer you a job."

The old ram's eyes opened wide and he stared at her for a moment before he showed his teeth, "Me? Vassal to a knight? Hah! Perhaps you have more ambition than I do little lady. Knight Ester...If I live, I will take you on this offer so that one day I may defeat you in single combat myself. Never have I been bested and my conquest will never begin with rumors of my weakness."

Syrilla was about to make a remark when she saw that the self-proclaimed lord leaning against the tower had his eyes shut. His body stood and she could see breath still coming from him, but he was out cold. What tenacity. She'd have him by her side certainly if she could, and a new sword. Her battle was over, but the courtyard...

Syrilla made her way to the edge where she could see everything happening down in the courtyard. The manor itself was on fire and knights of all banner were trying their hardest to put out the inferno that seemed to rage on. She grimaced as she recalled again asking for a hole, not a damnable bonfire. With a whistle, she called the attention of some of her knights to take the ram from the castle and while she felt this wasn't necessary she called aloud, "Defenders of this castle, or what is left of your lot! Drop your arms! Flee the fire and we will take you to food, water, and safety! There is no need to die today! Your lord yet breaths, but if he should live then he will do so under my banner!"

What few defenders that weren't routed, began dropping their weapons save for a few who chose to die with a sword in hand even under the blaze. The rest of that burning night was spent regrouping her brigade along with any survivors of the castle and taking them back to camp. They left the castle, burned, but alive. When next she would meet with that idiot weasel, she would have some choice words for him along with his due payment. Oh yes, she was definitely going to enjoy paying him.