Hello fanfic people! I'm back! So yeah, I've been busy...went to school, beat up a lame-o jerk, took a test, regular business. OK so in this chapter, the action stuff will kick in.

And yeah, that last chapter was pretty awesome. I try my best, eat right, exercise(as if) and get totally high on suger and hyper whenever I can, normal kid stuff. La la la la la enjoy!

May 3, 1429

Joan, wanting to test the valor and loyalty of the Scottish commanders who came to France's defense, sent an invitation to each of them to join her for supper. They come from the houses of Christon, Douglas, Hamilton, Kennedy, Melvill, Houston, and Ogilvy, all very brave Scots. They will soon prove to be highly exeptional part of Joan's army. These brave men stands united with the French against a common foe, the notorious English.

One would be terribly remiss if they forgot to mention the mighty help of France's long time brothers-in-arms, the Scots! These valiant and fiery fighters have stood shoulder to shoulder with them for as long as anyone could remember. Even when the rest of Europe turned its back and was content to see the Kingdom of France swallowed up, they alone remained steadfast and loyal.

Many knights and soldiers have hazarded all to come and help the Dauphin. Back in about 1420, they risked life and limb sailing from Scotland's west coast and through the treacherous Irish Sea, finally to land at the port of La Rochelle. Their leader was the widely renowned Earl of Buchan, John Stewart. He was accompanied by his goodly half brother, Sir William Stewart, along with 6,000 of their fellow countrymen.

Sadly, the French as a people did not welcome them warmly, for they were skeptical of their motives. It was with a dismissive attitude that they labeled the Scots as "barbaric consumers of wine and meat". All that changed, however, when on Easter Sunday 1421, the noble Scottish army fought, and more importantly, won its first great battle at the town of Bauge. In great gratitude, the Dauphin named Sir John Stewart, the Constable of Scotland!

Recognizing their powerful fighting skills, he also created a team of personal body guards consisting solely of Scots. A finer team of soldiers probably never existed. Continuing the fight, those aggressive warriors wrestled the towns of Cravant, Verneuil, and Montargis from the English grasps. Then Lord John and his half brother came to defense of Orleans on February 8, 1429 with a troop of 1,000 soldiers and knights. Unfortunately, he and his courageous brother along with 500 of their men, were killed four days later at the infamous Battle of the Herrings. (On the same day Joan predicted it!)

Joan and Scatty have already met Sir Patrick Ogilvy during their arrival to Orleans. So he takes it upon himself to introduce the rest of the Scots by rank. First is the Earl of Douglas, and he comes forth towards Joan with a small gift in his hand. It is a Scottish thistle pin made of gold with a red ruby in the center.

He explains to them that this is the symbol of his country, because it is pleasing to look at, but painful to touch(Because it's extremely pointy). "See? It's very beautiful is it not, Maid? Just...be careful to keep it away from your eye. I,um, learned that the hard way." Joan is happy with his unusual gift and graciously thanks him.

"Hey! You didn't get me one?", whined Scatty.

Douglas chuckles and said, "Why? Do you want one? Sure! I'll get one for you soon."

After him is Sir Thomas Houston, a brave knight and exceptional commander. He leads a noble company of twenty-two soldiers and seventy-one archers. Squire David Melville commands a humble company of only twelve soldiers and twenty-eight archers. He is extremely proud to tell all who would listen, about how his great grandfather fought alongside William the Conqueror! They all just smiled and nodded their approval.

Squire John Christon, an able leader, heads a combined force of foot soldiers and archers. This particular Scot looks like one of those mythical "wild beast men", with his thick coarse hair cascading over his wide shoulders and his mighty beard bristling down to the middle, of his broad chest.

He extends his huge hairy hand out to Joan,"Maid, it is a fine honor to fight under your leadership." Joan, smiling broadly and speechless, just stands there for a moment marveling at his appearance.

Scatty, meanwhile, is quite sure that Joan have never seen anyone quite like him. "And I thought La Hire is gigantic!", mused Scatty. "Now that I think about it, he does reminds me of a hairy troll I once fought, but more good looking."

The last of the Scots to be introduced is Sir William Hamilton. Due to his lack of income, he heads a small company of only five soldiers and fifteen archers. Even so, a finer fighting man they never met.

Last but not least, is captain Hugh Kennedy, who arrives fashionably late. He is attached to Sir Ogilvy's command. So brave and fierce a warrior was he in previous battles, that the Dauphin granted him the privilege of using the French fleurs-de-lis as his own coat-of-arms.

Greatly embarrassed by his tardiness, this tall and ruggedly handsome man came forward, and doffs his had as he bows before Joan. Joan, pleased by his courtesy, solemnly bids him to rise. "You are welcome here, my comrade Kennedy."

So taken by her friendly tone, a huge grin fills Hugh's face as he replies, "By the Lord, none before you have spoken the name of Kennedy more fairly, lass."

Then John Christon cried, "Sorry to interrupt, but are we going to eat now or what?"

Dinner that night with the Scots created a merrily cheerful mood! Scatty, of course, is just having a blast and grand 'ol time socializing with the brave warriors of her homeland.

"Ah, it's so good to be alive right now!"exclaimed Sir Ogilvy while raising his chalice high. "Cheers to everyone!"

The rest of the Scots responds by rooting and heartily pounding the table. By the end of the night, Joan came away impressed by their passionate determination. Indeed, a fiercer bunch of bone-crunching, limb-chopping, and blood-soaked hellions you would never find tamed, of course, save under the powerful presence of the Maid.

So smitten by her are these ferocious, but gallant fighting men, that each man in turn went to his knee to pledge their loyalty. "We vow eternal loyalty to you, Maid, and will serve you proudly with our lives!"

March 4, 1429

The morning came with the long awaited news that Count Dunois and reinforcements are coming. Joan, thrilled, springs to her feet and wakes up Scatty.

"Wait? What? Where are we going?", asked Scatty drowsily, as her eyes squint in the harsh morning light. Black and red spots dance before her eyes.

Joan calls for Jean d' Aulon to come and help her arm. She then turn back to Scatty and said,"Dunois is back with the army. Finally, we shall go and meet with them."

While getting her armor on, Joan ordered Raymond to get their horses. Once fully armed, Joan and Scatty then rush down the stairs and into the streets, where Raymond stands ready with their horses. Both of them effortlessly vaults into the saddle and at once rides off to the Renard Gate, with the rest of the personal staff following after.

Five hundred men marches out with them to welcome the returning army. In only minutes, Joan skillfully deployed the troops along the route to maximize their defensive capabilities. Then, completely ignoring the English, she urge her valiant charger into a full gallop and races to Dunois with the column of troops. Father Jean led the other twenty priests as they sing the "Veni Creator Spiritus".

Joan stops near him as his face beam with happiness. "I kept my promise, Joan! The other priests and I kept the men spiritually ready for battle. And if I do say myself, we were instrumental in keeping them focused on their heavenly purpose!"

Joan smiles warmly at him. "Thank you, Father Jean, I knew I could count on you!" She then spurs her horse on to greet the Count. "Welcome back, Bastard! I thank God for your safe return. Were there any problems with the army?"

Dunois appears glad to see Joan, for the army had begun to get restive and show uneasiness now that it's getting close to the dreaded bastilles. All that disappeared now, as word ran down the line with a huzzah that the Maid has come.

The Bastard flash a broad grin and answered, "Yes, Joan, there were and it was wise of you to send me. Traitors among the Dauphin's revenue were working to undermine the morale of the army. But then I gave them your message and it worked like a charm! I soon had the army moving."

Joan is pleased with him, and smiles as she playfully pat his shoulder. "Thank you, Bastard. You've done well this time."

The Count then asks her to halt and let the troops pass in review, so that the men could be sure that the reports of her presence are not a ruse to revive their spirits. So she takes a position on the side of the road with her personal staff. There, the watch in silent admiration as the soldiers march by with martial stride, huzzahing all the way.

Joan is armed except a helmet, but instead wears a cunning velvet cap with a mass of ostrich feathers cascading over its edges. The thankful people of Orleans gave her that as a gift of their appreciation. The sight of soldiers always sets her blood leaping, and lit the fires in her eyes, which brings the warm rich colors to her cheeks with it.

When all the army have passed, Joan returns to the front and rides at the head of the column. Anxiety overcame the men as they approach the frowning bastilles full of enemy soldiers. Miraculously, the English never uttered a challenge, nor fired a shot. Joan knew well that when the English saw her riding at the front, a good deal of their courage had oozed out and vanished. They are stricken with some sort of spell that numbs their bodies, paralyzing and rendering them unable to lift their weapons.

On the way back to the city, Dunois inform Joan of an approaching army, led by Sir John Fastolfe, coming to reinforce the English. Joan turns upon him and said, "Bastard! Bastard! In God's name, I command you that as soon you learn of Fastolfe's arrival, that you will inform me. For if he passes without my knowledge..." Joan place her hand to her throat, "You shall loose your head."

Dunois gasps and rub his neck. "Heh heh...I do not doubt that, Joan. I promise that I shall indeed inform you."

"Do you really mean that?", asked Scatty in a low whisper.

Joan laughs quietly and replies, "No, of course not! I only said that to make a point."

"Oh, well that makes more sense."

Joan raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

Scatty turn her head towards Joan and blows a stray strand of hair off her eye. "Well, it's not like you to threaten anyone like that, unless perhaps it's the English." Scatty pause before adding decisively, "You're such a gentle-natured person...and I know well that decapitation isn't really your kind of thing."

Joan nods. "You know me so well, Scatty. Although, I do have my suspicions about the captains."

Scatty smile lightly and reaches over to hold her friend's hand. "Well if you ever have any trouble with them, just know that I will agree with your decisions and always have your back."

All of Orleans met the army at the gate and cheer it through the jubilant streets to their barracks. Nobody has to rock it to sleep; it slumped down dog-tired, for Dunois have rushed it without mercy. All would be quiet for the next 24 hours, all but the snoring.

Tis an afternoon in May, when all through the Boucher house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Everyone had set aside their arms aside and laid down to rest their weary bodies. Suddenly, their deep and peaceful slumber is abruptly ended by cry of anguish. (That first part was from The Night Before Christmas. Did it work?)

"French blood blood is being spilled!" Joan's cloudy blue eyes blinks open in a heart beat, and she springs up from her bed yelling,"My voices have told me to against the English, but I do not know if I must go against their forts, or Fastolfe who is bringing them reinforcements!"

Little Charlotte pulled on her hand crying out, "What do you mean? To whom do you speak? There's nobody here but you and I."

Joan bends over the wondering child and kisses her cheek to soothe the alarm in those youthful eyes. "It's nothing, Charlotte. Now I need you to be a good girl and go to your mother, alright?" The little girl, though still bewildered, nodded her head and hastily leaves the room.

Meanwhile, Joan is still calling out, "My armor! Bring me my armor and a horse!"

Scatty, who was in the hallway, brought Jean d' Aulon who began to arm Joan. Scatty then went to get her own armor on. Fully armed within minutes, Joan made her way down the stairs. There, she found Louis day dreaming by the front door. "Ah, you bloody boy! The blood of France is being shed and you did not tell me? Please go and get my horse!"

"I shall do as you wish, Maid!"

Jean de Metz and Scatty after getting themselves ready, soon catched up with her. "Joan, what is going on? What is wrong? There are no battles going on, everything is quiet!", they both said in one breath.

"Oh, you shall hear war sounds in a moment", reassured Joan, "but I must be at the front right right now! French blood is flowing!" Then she is gone. Jean de Metz and Scatty just looked at each other in bewilderment. It is true as she said. Before one could count to five, there broke upon the stillness the hoarse cries of commands and the distant booming of cannons!

Joan darts out of the house, where Louis has her horse, the Crusader, ready for her. The Crusader is her favorite horse. Scathach runs into the barn and retrieves her own horse. She came out just in time to see Joan ride away so swiftly that sparks fly from under her horse's hooves.

Then Raymond runs out from the house with Joan's banner in hand. "Joan! You forgot your banner! Joan!"

"Raymond! Give the banner to me! I'll give it to her!" Raymond lifts up the large banner, and Scatty gracefully takes it from his grasp. "Get the others! Hurry!"

Soon enough, Jean de Metz, Bertrand Poulegny, Aulon, and the two pages mounted their steeds fully armed and stream after her. Ahead of them, Joan have just reached the Burgundy Gate. A moment later, all the brave captains and knights came to her side, too! There was Sir Jean Foucault, La Hire, Sir Kennedy and his fellow Scots! What a remarkable sight. Old and new friends alike united in their fierce determination to free the Orleans from English occupation. Whenever needed, these chivalrous and honorable freedom fighters selflessly answered Joan's call to arms.

There by the gate, Joan witnessed a mortally wounded soldier being carried in. He caught Joan's eye and the hideous sight sickened her. It took her a moment to recover from it and ask, "Who is he?"

"He is a Frenchman, poor lad", was the reply.

With great emotion, Joan sympathized, "May our Creator the Lord take good care of him. Never did I see French blood without my hair standing on end!" She couldn't take to sight anymore and spur her horse further on.

It turned out that a few officers and the city's militia, encouraged by Joan's presence and the arrival of reinforcements, had decided to attack the fort of Saint Loup on their own! Before Joan arrived, the inexperienced and untrained militiamen were getting the worst of it and are retreating before the enemy, who have sallied out face them, used to victories when 'witches' aren't around.

Before plunging into the battle, it struck Joan that she have forgotten her banner. "My banner! I forgot my banner!"

Then from behind her, Scatty called out, "Joan, your banner! Catch!"

Scatty tossed the banner and Joan reaches out, swiftly grabbing hold of the wooden staff before courageously charging headlong into the fray with her white banner raised high. The men took new heart at this sight and rallying to her side, fearlessly attack the enemy! A hundred people are shouting, "Make way! Make way there for the Maid of Orleans!" The first time that immortal name is ever uttered

The mass divided itself like the Red Sea(From the story of Moses) and down this lane, Joan went skimming like a bird while crying out, "Forward, French hearts! In God's name, forward! Charge!"

At the flourish of war trumpets, those who have followed her from the city, put spur to horse. Led by the great Shadow and at the speed of gale force wind, they galloped headlong to the midst of battle and with a shock of thunder, clashed steel-to-steel with their foes. The clang of their weapons mixed frightfully with their war cries as they rushed upon the English.

There in the thick of battle, Scathach is like the Grim Reaper collecting souls with his sharp scythe. With each broad swing of her steel blades, she slays great swaths of enemy soldiers. The English fought a retreating fight, but in a fine and gallant way. They drove them back foot by foot into their fort. The French suffered repulse after repulse, but Joan was there and everywhere, encouraging the men and keeping them to their work. They hacked and slashed and butchered at the enemy, until sweet victory was theirs!

250 English soldiers died that day. The English commanders knew it was over and tries to escape with their lives.

"All it lost! I know, lets go hide in the basement and hope they won't find us!"

"No, you twit! We will not run away, but shall disguise ourselves."

"Really? Seriously? I like my plan better." (Tee heh heh cowards)

Neverless, they broke into the fort's vestry room in an attempt to disguise themselves as priests. Joan came to the rescue just in time stop the French from massacring them. "Oh, no you don't! We must spare the churchmen!"

The soldiers protested, "Maid, these are no churchmen! They are only English in poor costumes!" Joan knew fully well that these English are not priests, but she do not want those who have surrendered to be killed. Therefore, she did not give in their demands for blood.

"No, I do not want their blood to be upon our hands! Take them out with the other prisoners, but don't hurt them. That's an order!" She commanded, and the men reluctantly obeyed.

The troops celebrated the spectacular victory by gutting the fort, taking all its stores and artillery, before ultimately burning it to the ground! When the men are shouting themselves hoarse with rejoicings, there went up a cry for the General, for they wanted to praise her, glorify her, and pay her homage for a job well done.

Joan, instead of rejoicing, burst into a torrent of tears at all the carnage and deaths that have been caused. She knew long before that this would happen, but what she imagined did not even come close to the true horror and gore of death. Just the stench of the bloody, rotten corpses is enough to make her sway in the saddle. She was so moved by the sight, that she seek out Father Jean.

In his pity for the dead and dying soldiers of both sides, Father Jean gave all the men lying on the battlefield a general and conditional sign off into the next life. Joan's face turns ashen as she and Count Dunois looks over the battlefield, strewn with dead and dying.

"War is not pretty, Joan. It is only a matter of life. We can't avoid it forever."

Joan's eyes are damp with tears. "This war...it's horrible! So many brave men have died, in the most cruel and painful ways possible."

Dunois, out of sympathy, placed his hand on he shoulder. "Yes, it's true that many have perished, but they were not in vain. For the day is ours, and that is most important!"

Joan wipe the tears away with a quick movement of her palm. She smiles weakly, though there is no humor in it. "Yes, the day is ours. That is good...but if only it could have been done without such bloodshed!" She then turn her horse away and begins heading back to Orleans.

As they ride back together, Scatty asked in concern, "Then Joan, if battle distresses you so, why did you go where the fighting is most fiercest?"

Joan's now misty blue eyes, which is still twinking with reflective water droplets, looks upon Scatty as she said, "Because, Scatty, if I, a simple girl, can remain at the front during a battle, then those of the army who don't will be shamed until doing likewise. Unlike the others, I am not here for some kind of vainglory. I act for God's will alone." Joan heaves a deep sigh as she attempts a smile. "It is my hope and prayer that if I ever die in battle, flames or no flames", she added with a rush, knowing that Scatty is about to bring up spontaneous combustion, "my sacrifice will inspire the soldiers of France to remain bold and steadfast until the Kingdom is free."

So Joan of Arc fought her first battle and have triumphed. All of Orleans is mad with joy! Her new name is on everyone's lips: she is the Maid of Orleans now. Between the first utterance and the last time it will ever be uttered on this earth...ah, think how many moldering ages will lay in that eternal gap!

Joan's first concern upon returning to the city, is to visit where the English prisoners are being held. She is appalled by what she sees! The room is nothing more than filthy, cold, and damp hell hole.

"Ugh! It smells dead in here!", exclaimed Scatty with disgust, earning her looks from the jail keeper. "I think I'll meet you back at the house, Joan. Right now, my advanced vampire sense of smell is killing me!"

The wounded had no blankets, nor did they received any food or water. It was almost genocide! Immediately, Joan flew into action, ordering those around her to bring all the blankets and food that could be spared. In the mean time, Joan took the effort to speak and interact with with the English captives. She wants them to as comfortable as possible, despite the poor condition of their cell, a concern belonging to no other commander.

Breathlessly, the jail keeper came running into the room. "Here is what you wanted, Maid. These were all that could find."

"Well done, my good man", said Joan as she took one of the blankets, and began to wrap it around the nearest shivering prisoner. She must have spent at least an hour with them, soothing and comforting them with her gentle and compassionate care. Before leaving the place, Joan gave the standing order that from now on, all prisoners are to be given the best care possible.

Once back at the Boucher house, Joan just plopped herself down in a chair and slumps. Scatty, who have been polishing her sword with a rag, takes notice and asked, "So...how are you feeling?"

Joan's head tilt lazily to the side. "Tired, extremely tired. The battle was exhausting."

Scatty grins at her friend's sluggish mood. "Well, you could be feeling worse if you had used your aura. Eat some vegetables, it will help you."

Just then, a group of irate captains comes storming into the room. They are led by that Sir Jean de Gamaches. Joan closed her eyes in frustration and cried, "Ahhh! What could they possibly want now? Why can't they just leave me alone?!"

"You!", shouted Gamaches angrily. "What the hell are you doing, giving our needed supplies to those Godons?!" Joan hotly glares at him as he went on with his rampage. "By your stupid actions, you are undermining the morale of the army! Don't you realize that if those prisoners survive, they will only rise up against us? It would be preferable to just let them rot away, or better yet put those unable to pay a ransom to the sword and be done with it!" The other captains pat his back while grunting their approval.

Joan, now standing in a prominent attitude, fired back at him, "Leave the English prisoners alone! Haven't they suffered enough in losing the battle? They are just as much children of God as you are , maybe more so seeing what kind of vile men you are!"

She advances upon Jean de Gamaches with a vengeance! "All I will say to you, sir, is that it's God will for us to help them! For if we fail to do so, He will abandon us and France will be lost! Do you really want that on your conscience?" She spoke no more, but stomps up to her room.

Seeing, that they aren't moving fast enough, Scatty took it upon herself to unceremoniously push all the men out at once. "Goodbye! See you soon! Well, miss you guys, no we won't!" She then slams the door shut behind her. "Man, I can't believe that Joan has to deal with these people!"

Believe it or not, this incident is only the first of many heated arguments over this subject, that erupted between Joan and the captains in the coming days.

So that was Joan's first battle...and she almost missed it! Good thing she made it just in time, or they could have failed. Hooray they won! Yeah yeah yeah! So I'm just goint to tell you guys now, that Joan is sort of...bipolar when it comes to fighting. Like, during a battle she would be all pumped up and ready to go, charging headlong at the English, but then after the battle the sight of all the blood and dead bodies of people killed by senseless violence just makes her fall apart. She's really sensitive, you know, even though she's a great warrior and all.

As always, review, review, review, review, and last but not least...review!

Question of the day: How many siblings(brother/sister) do you have?

I have only one younger sister. Yep. Who wants to adopt her?! I'm cool with that! Please, please,please adopt my sister! I don't care, just take her away from me!

*I see my sister standing nearby* Heh heh heh I'm just kidding! Love you, sis!