Night fell across the city of Whitecastle, and with it came more than the cold wind rolling from the mountains. Dark shadows swept through the city, flutters of black and grey in the night, leaving nothing but silence and the dead corpses of soldiers, guards, and any witnesses who spied their passing. No alarms were sounded, no fires ignited, the walls of the city as stern and silent as they had been, a lifeless corpse disguised as a vigilant guard. The shadows moved across rooftops, down alleyways and through any who barred their way, until at last, they came upon the gates of the great alabaster fortress that gave the city its name. Here the shadows paused, not hesitant, just observant. In the darkness of the sleeping city, they were invisible, darkened shadows in the night, but in the castle, their midnight cloaks would not hide them, once they entered the castle, the battle which had only one side was aware had begun would ignite into a furious war for victory.
Now was the time to sever the head of the snake before it even knew it was caught.
One of the hundred faceless shadows raised a bow and lifted a pitch soaked arrow to it. With the sparking flash of flint, the arrow ignited with a whoosh, its faint glow illuminating the armed and deadly Harrowers who stood like an army of ghosts at the gates of the castle. With a careful patience, the bow was raised, and with the flit of the bowstring, as one the army of phantoms moved like a shadow on Whitecastle. Disappearing through windows, doors, over walls and parapets, the ghosts infiltrated the fortress like wine into a cloth. As the burning arrow made its descent, torches were lit, spears were readied, swords drawn and horses spurred, as the army beyond the walls descended upon the helpless city, undefended, and unguarded, its gates open and flooding like the hearts of the men that guarded them.
The battle for Whitecastle over before it had begun.
Da'Karro led those Harrowers under his direct command through the portcullis of Whitecastle, its imposing metal lattice all but useless in the face of an opponent who could scale walls and open the gates from inside. As Da'Karro entered the central courtyard dozens of guards lay dead already, their throats slit or cries muzzled by gloved hands as blades pierced their spines. The only true resistance began when an alarm was sounded from one of the high towers. Guards poured out of the castle from various exits, disorganised and hurried, only to be cut down by the waiting Harrowers. The call to arms had been for the army approaching the cities walls, not the force already behind them. The Harrowers stormed the castle, midnight black cloaks and flashing steel against the ornamental plate and heavy shields of the palace guards. To their credit, once the immediate threat was recognised, the Soldiers reacted well, forming blockades and choke points in halls and passageways, slowing the progress of the hooded assailants, but they could only slow them down. The Harrowers had infiltrated through so many different points within the castle, that entrenched guards that would have easily repelled the lighter armed and armoured Harrowers were flanked and surrounded by more black shadows, leaving few places they could mount an effective defence. Da'Karro moved swiftly through the castle, avoiding the major battles between his men and the palace guards. They were not his mission prerogative. His fellow Harrowers would deal with them soon enough.
He rose higher and higher into the castle, those Harrowers with him slowly dwindling as they left his side to deal with the palace guards they encountered. He needed no bodyguards and they needed no orders.
He rounded a corner alone, the last of his men having left him long ago, and came face to face with a trio of armed sentries. They immediately formed a defensive cordon in the corridor, shields forming a heavy wall and spears levelled, refusing to budge an inch despite the screaming and sounds of battle that now echoed through out the castle.
Da'Karro barely slowed.
The centre guard, clearly the most senior, called for Da'Karro to halt , but it was too late for that. The leader of the Harrowers Curved Kukri flew clear of his scabbard and was flung with unnerving accuracy. Its heavy top end elicited a sickening crunch as it sawed through the centre guards face. The guard was blown back by the force of the blow, dead instantly, and leaving a wide gap in the guards shield wall. Distracted by their fallen comrade and faltering their defence, Da'Karro easily ducked by the guards long spears and entered into a vicious hand to hand assault. The guards immediately dropped their heavy spears and shields, drawing short, straight swords, engaging the seemingly unarmed assailant with renewed vigour. Da'Karro spun and struck, his gauntleted arm deflecting one sword as dodged the other. His leg kicking out and striking guard ones knee, eliciting a wet crack and a scream of pain. A vicious elbow with his gauntleted arm sent the second guard reeling with a broken nose. On the beck spin Da'Karro lashed out with his bladed gauntlet, eviscerating the first guards neck as he leaned against the wall to support his broken knee. The second guard returned, howling a vicious roar though blurred eyes and a bloodied face, but Da'Karro deftly diverted his sword hand and kicked his legs from under him. Still holding the Guards sword arm Da'Karro slammed an open palm onto the back of the guards elbow with a popping crunch, eliciting another howl of pain and causing the guard to drop his sword. With a single swift motion, Da'Karro collected the short blade and plunged it into the gap in the man's armour, between his cuirass and his helmet. The hall falling silent D'Karro collected his sword and continued on, sprinting to make up for the time wasted on the palace guards.
He was nearing his destination, he could tell from the way the corridors widened and the floors grew more luxuriously carpeted. Great paintings and statues sat on walls and plinths as Da'Karro neared his destination, only to be stopped short by the palace guards. Ten of them to be exact.
Da'Karros mission prerogatives were clear. Execute the King and Queen, and collect the royal children alive and unharmed.
He was lucky that his fellow Harrowers had mission Prerogatives as well.
There was gurgling cry as one of the guards had a long, broad dagger plunged into the gap between his pauldron and helmet, falling with a slump to reveal the veiled, midnight clad woman behind him, her dagger still firmly lodged a foot down in the mans torso. Just as the guards rounded on this new threat, a second sound, like a butchers cleaver through meat sounded, and the confused guard turned the other way to see a virtual giant standing before them, his skin as black as the cloak and armour he wore, and crimson blood still dripping from the viciously curved axe he had used to behead the unsuspecting guard. Both the woman and the giant leapt into the fray, with Da'Karro joining soon after, The veiled woman moving like a ghost, the various wrappings and cloaks fluttering about her, disguising her movements as her dagger flashed and pierced exposed flesh and armour joints. The Giant waded into the fray like a charging bull, blows from his massive buckler sending men flying and the heavy, sharp edge of his axe hacking through armour and limbs like they were wheat under the scythe. It was not long till all ten vigilant guards lay dead or dying.
"Good to see you my friend," The giant smiled, revealing his alabaster white teeth against the near pitch colour of his skin, "I was beginning to wonder if we would have to carry out our charge without you."
"Good to see you too Ramas." Da'Karro said curtly as he cleaned his blade on a fallen guard, he turned his head slightly and nodded to the woman, "Isabella."
She returned his nod but said nothing.
Da'Karro swiftly returned to the task at hand, "Ramas, get the two princesses, Isabella, keep watch and deal with any guards that come snooping, ill deal with the king and queen."
"Understood," Ramas said, all hint of his mirth gone in an instant, Isabella just nodded and walked back down the corridor the way Da'Karro had come.
Da'Karro turned and approached the door at the end of the hall, its ostentatious design and size easily denoting it as the king and queens bed chambers, where he hoped they would still be, ignorantly thinking that their guards could repel the invaders. Da'Karro kicked in the door and entered at a pace, revealing the gilded room within. In the corner, stood a man in fine robes, his sword in hand, and a woman similarly garbed behind him unarmed. It was only Da'Karros preternaturally instinctive reflexes that saved him from dying then and there. In the reflection of the gilded four poster bed, Da'Karro spied movement that was not his own, and dived as a razor-sharp blade flew over him and cut into the wooden door where his head had been but milliseconds previous. Da'Karrow rolled to a crouch and took in his assailant. The mans armour was of a much higher calibre than that of the other guards, more protective but more ornate as well, the stance of his legs and the way he held his long hand-and-a-half sword denoted a man used to single combat and skilled in swordplay. His place by the monarchs side would be due to his skill and loyalty, some champion or bodyguard to the King and Queen.
Da'Karro smiled with teeth like daggers, "Finally, someone worth killing."
Ramas Kicked in the bedchamber door and took in the dark room before him. A single large bed sat to his right as he entered, its sheets uncrumpled and unslept in. To his left was a large door to a adjoining room, no doubt a wardrobe of some kind, and beside it a vanity of obscenely ornate design, variously jewels and make-up items dotted the table, recently used. It was then he noticed the breeze rolling through the room. His eyes flitted to the window and the ethereal white figure standing within in. She had long flowing black hair stark against the bleached white of the wedding gown she wore. She seemed distracted by the unfolding chaos in the city below but turned slowly as he watched her, tears in her eyes and confusion written across her face. She began to fall backwards but Ramas moved faster than a man his size should be able to, and with a deft grab of hs meaty hand, took a hold of her forearm before she fell, yanking her small body back down into the room off the window and into his waiting arms.
"Careful little girl," He cautioned with his deep, baritone voice, "It is a long way down from here."
Da'Karro and the champion crossed blades again and again, their swords flashing the king and queen looked on. The champions sword was longer than Da'Karros and his length was keeping the Harrower at bay, while Da'Karros great speed and ferocity ensured that the Champion was kept on the defensive, unable to retaliate in any meaningful manner. The Champion was skilled but Da'Karro knew how to beat him.
He was going to use the mans duty against him.
Da'Karro manoeuvred his way around till he had his back to the cowering monarchs. He feinted a turn if to switch target and attack the king and queen, causing the champion to initiate a chase in defence of his charges, only to meet with Da'Karros mule kick to the gut, propelling him back in a stumble and openign up his otherwise faultless defence. A vicious flurry of strikes from Da'Karros Kukri ended in a slash that the champion was only just too slow to backstep, opening up his jugular vein and trachea. Blood spurted from the wound and over Da'Karros chest as the champion held a hand to his throat and gurgled out his last dying breaths. The champion sunk to the floor with a wet gasp and lay unmoving on the floor, his blood spreading and staining the plush floor in a spreading tide of crimson.
Da'Karro turned to the King and Queen.
They were dead before they had time to scream.