Maxwell — Roleplayer Guild

The sounds of battle still reverberated through the castle, and the din did not seem likely to diminish any time soon. Roderick and Lin had stood exposed at an intersection, corridors and antechambers all around, though by the grace of the gods, no enemies had happened on them before they took off again. As they made their way through the hallways, the signs of battle were relatively few. Although the screaming and clanging made it evident, and the warlock's keen senses picked up the scent of blood from all directions, the corridors themselves were mostly empty of signs of combat. A few doors had been broken down, the occasional painting disturbed or miscellaneous item stepped on, but the castle defenders were not incompetent, and clearly had barricaded themselves in the most defensive positions. The king's assassins were men of transcendent power and strength, but where they had carved a bloody path through the Altranorian soldiers, the footmen had a far harder time. On their way toward the concealed door at the castle's other end, Roderick and Lin passed fighters both dead and alive, behind broken barricades or still fighting for their lives against groups of enemy soldiers, walls of spears and swords barely holding the onslaught at bay. The warlock and the giant might have been able to save a few if they dared.

The winding, pitch-black tunnels beneath the castle and her surroundings were a jumbled mess of new and old, dug by workers of varying competence in the preceding centuries, with the odd stretch reinforced in later years, and more than a few passages caved in. There were tunnels and stairways dug through the rock that led to private storages and wine cellars, as well as larger ones that would take you down through the hill and out onto the city wall below - everyone knew about these, and some saw traffic every day. The secret paths were different, however, leading to false walls in dark alleys, into the city sewers (rudimentary though they were), and even a path that exited out into the northwestern forest, over a mile away. Roderick could find his way in his sleep, of course, and a lack of light was a minor inconvenience to him, but others were rarely so lucky. Herding a large number of people through would be as easy as making them hold hands, of course, but it would take time, even without the additional delay of saving them in the first place. The enemy had the advantage in both magic and numbers, and more were certainly on the way, not to mention the living nightmare about to emerge from the dungeons. It would be difficult and slow to get someone of Lin'Lise's size through the cramped tunnels, even without a trail of survivors stumbling and squeezing through behind them. It was a risky proposition - If the enemy caught up with them inside the tunnels, the fate of the soldiers, and possibly Roderick and Lin themselves, would be sealed. On the other hand, scores of valiant men and women were about to die for a country already lost, and there just might be some way to save them. The last thing the enemy soldiers would expect was a sudden attack from behind.

- - -

"Don't let them get away, men! Throw your spears if you have to! Get some archers up here, and mages, by the gods! Kill them all!"
The shouts echoed over the walls, followed by a shower of missiles. Daggers, stones, arrows and a handful of spears rained down over the moat, cracking the ice further and driving Sir below the water again. The next time he surfaced, it was by the edge of the dirt-brown water, finally with some earth - or at least some hard-packed snow - to dig his claws into and clamber out. The stench filled his nostrils, drowning out all other scents, but screaming from atop the wall told him the enemy was still after him, although they seemed to have run out of ammunition for the moment. More people were coming, however, and Sir could hear the tromp of their boots against the stone stairs on the other side of the wall. Riven and Taula were nowhere to be seen, too far under the murky water to even register as dark spots on the surface, and the cold and danger made it impossible to search for them for real. Clawing his way out of the moat, the great anan had no choice but to push himself over the edge of the cliff, and tumble down the steep slope. Below lay the city wall, and on one side of it, freedom. To the north and west, snow-covered fields ran for about a mile before the edge of the forest, and to the east was the city proper, still on fire and at war. Sir had some control over his descent down the hill, and could land where he so chose.

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