Icarus's blog: "Somantics"

The plan was quite simple.
Send one deligate to the front gate, unannounced, unplanned, and declare victory.

Robert, tiny, tan, spindly Robert, new to the boot-outs, and only a little damp behind the ears stood before a full honor guard of white chargers and very shiny armor that glittered in the morning light. The captain had to give his army some credit, at least they knew to attack with the sun at their back.

The regular army disregarded Robert, this one straggler as a potential deserter or turncoat, only lobbing a few casually insulted missiles and insults at him.

Robert stammered, introducing himself to the assembled enemy knight-captains.
"My master has a message..." he stuttered and fidgeted with his cap, trying not to look directly at all the spikes, muscle, and stamping horses. He only stood barely over a man's elbow, but what he lacked in stature he made up for in...
actually no one was quite sure what Robert was good for yet. He had only just arrived in the band a few weeks ago, fresh off the boat and gibbering his bizzare accent that apparently dropped the end sound of most his words, as was evidenced by his name, and the tip of his tongue flicking over his teeth for each emphasis.
For the first week everyone just thought he was dirty and simple, but as it turns out, all of his countrymen spoke like this.
Though there was one instance where he was used as a human catapault to lower a tower gate.
That may have been the greatest moment of mousey Robert's life. Even better than the time he beat the captain in a game of poker for this really nice hat he had worrying in his hands.
He wouldn't want anything to happen to his prize from his captain, and so he plopped it over his head, shadowing his face for all but one terrified quivering eye.
"My master says that he shall break fast on the battlements of your great fortress under his employer's banner".
The knights spat laughter from behind their steel masks. Cackling and guffawing, their whole bodies shaking with mirth.
"In 100 years the Steel garison had never been flirted with, much less penetrated." One knight stated leaning down patronizingly to the tiny underarmed man.
Robert pointed behind them. The laughter faded as shoulders pulled comrades to turn and stare dumb as their flag burned and was tossed off the highest rampart of the fortress. A middle aged man in dingy armor was waving energetically took another bite of crispy bread.
The banner of the great white griffon waving a similar, comical hello behind him.

It was at this point that Robert turned, and started running as fast as he could back to his allied infantry line.
Two solid, full thumps landing as he turned to run, but this went unnoticed over the outrage and insult of the knight's flag being burnt and cast to the earth.
They began to come about to charge the fortress but the faint, searpentine sizzling stopped where Robert had been standing
and two great iron balls packed with powder detonated in shards of smoke, fire and sharp metal- lodging several fragments into the skulls of the nearest knights, stirring and overturning the chargers at the very least crushing the remaining honor guard.
"I might be short, but I've got big b-"
"CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!!!!"
Robert wasn't all the way back in formation before his army came like a wave of pikes, blades, shields and thundering testosterone.
"Damn it!" Robert turned with the stampede, swept up in the assault despite the stitch in his side and the burning in his lungs.


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