It was a gloomy evening, and an eerie silence hung over the Citadel. The two main guards, clad in scale armour, stand patiently in front of the main tower.
“This job is daunting.”, one speaks to the other.
“It is… I still don’t see why we must guard this gate. Surely the Marquis is strong enough to defend himself, being the most powerful Channeler in the region?”
The one guard nods in agreement, when a carriage approaches from the northwest, emblazoned with Jackal emblems.
“Halt! Who goes there?”, the guard inquires.
“We are emissaries from the Seven Jackals.”, a person sitting next to the carriage driver replies.
“Well, show us your documents then, to see if you indeed are.”
The person, wearing a dark brown cloak and a fairly prominent moustache, descends from the carriages and approaches the guards. He hands over several parchments, which the one guard subsequently inspects.
He reads the documents carefully and inspects the seal, which seems remarkably fresh for a document that was created all the way up the Jackal mountains. He looks up at the cloaked person.
“Hmm…-”
His response is abruptly ended as two arrows pierce through the eye slits of his helmet, and subsequently explode inside his head, creating a muted and tinned bang. As the other guard looks on and begins to unsheathe his sword, the cloaked man quickly stabs his Belovian sword in his chest, piercing through the scale armour as if it were mere paper.
“That was satisfying.”, the brown-cloaked man speaks gently, as he pulls back his hood.
He gently walks towards the door, accompanied by a small gaunt figure who had just jumped off the carriage as well.
“Would you like me to pick the lock?”, the figure asks.
“That would be unwise.”, the hooded man replies. “Rictoris has minor sorcerer powers, so most likely the gate is alarmed. I have, however, a simple solution.”
He sticks the Belovia blade into the lock and rapidly twists it inside. Purple swirls surround the blade and the door, and a large salvo of gentle popping sounds are emitted from the lock. Then a wave of purple energy recoils from the blade, hitting the arm of the man.
“Argh!”, the man cries in pain.
“Shush. We don’t want to be noticed yet.”, the gaunt figure adds, “Let’s enter then. I’ve got the payload right here.”
Colonel Brandis Valtarim watched from the rocks to Rictoris Citadel in silence. His troops await behind him.
Suddenly a huge explosion rocks the town, as the main tower gets launched several hundred metres into the air.
“This is our sign. MEN, FULL ATTACK!!!”
Note: I have done relatively little on this project recently. After the extremely low turnouts on some of the contests I organized, I felt quite discouraged to continue. For the time being I will continue with writing stories from time to time, but I haven't made my mind up about the other aspects of the project. Perhaps the time is just not right for those things.