Let the peasants in
From Create Your Own Story
"Open the gates." You command, and several soldiers rush with the order to the portcullis. It will be a tight squeeze, and if the invading army decides to dig in, then supplies will run low very fast. But in the long run it is better than neglecting them. You hope. "The blackest of maws marches on our very home!" You hear a shriek from high above. You look up to see your mother standing at the window to her room, peering out. She has not been well, recently. "I gather there must be at least a hundred of them," Walter estimates, his tone grim. You know the garrison protecting this castle is sixty men, only fifteen of them well trained.
An hour passes, and it becomes obvious that Walter's estimate was quite under. The army spreads out, and you get a good look at them. A large portion of heavy and light infantry, backed up by a line of cavalry. You assume a large section further back to be archers. Several dozen horses pull large wagons of timbre and supplies. Eventually, they stop several hundred feet from the gate, way back along the path. They begin to set up camp.
A few hours after, and the sun is beginning to set when four riders set out from the camp-to-be, and approach the gates. You, Walter and Frederik (Captain of the guard) exchange a worried look as you too enter the watchtower above the huge steel door.
Three of the riders are clad in heavy metal armor, clearly Sorelmin knights. They sit rigid in their saddles as the third, a figure cloaked in bright red, trots forward. They throw back their hood to reveal a woman. She looks in her late thirties. She has slightly dark skin, yet her hair is a brilliant straw blonde, tied back to reveal her narrow and rather striking complexion. Her accent has the exotic tint of a true-born Sorelminian. "Lord of Brokridge! I am Commander Godiva, under King Lashus of Sorelmin! We have just returned from a battle in which we decimated a force of your people. They were poorly trained; we believe they were the bulk fighting force of these lands." She gestures around her. "Meaning that this castle is essentially defenseless." She steps forward again, her tone shifting from that of authority to one of more sincerity. "My lord, it's been a bloody war, one we've all paid prices for. Both our men are embittered. The problem is, if mine have to break through those walls instead of being invited in, I don't think I will be able to stop them in the quest for blood. Do the right thing. Surrender peacefully, and you have my word that you and your people will be spared."
