The area behind the second wall.
It contained warehouses, servants quarters and the knights' barracks.
Other than the gun powder storehouse, the streets were mostly unguarded.
Regis leaned against the wall. He had slipped past the previous two lines by a slim margin.
He looked up at the prize atop the tower. It hangs on its support quietly, blissfully unaware of its surroundings.
"I'm not imagining it. That looks big enough that I needed to strap it to my back. That's the least of my worries though."
He kept staring at it. His hip area still felt slimy from earlier.
The tower. The barrier. The walls. The simple piece of cloth seemed more and more like a sacred relic housed in a glass case.
Gaurded by lines and lines of defenses. The perfect prize. One of a kind. Coveted by many and yet none can have it.
None except the boldest and most cunning of the shadeborn.
Before he knew it, his crotch was hard.
He slammed his fist on it.
"Sh*t what's wrong with me?"
He punched himself in the face, refocusing his attention to studying the defences.
The warding on the innermost compound was intense. Only the RazenHeir knights could traverse the barrier unscathed.
Even with the RazenHeir uniform his informant provided him with, the flames would do more than just tag him.
And it's not just the barrier, the RazenHeir knights, trained to a level of discipline above their peers. Their basic senses and physical ability are enhanced to match.
Packed densely to guard a specific area, there are virtually no gaps in their defenses.
The assassin tried to suck on his fake stick. He tasted nothing but the slimy feeling of his own saliva.
He tried to take another puff.
A final deep puff.
He tossed the stick aside and stepped forward.
"There was a premium for bringing the target back intact but screw that."
He drew his throwing knife. A curved double sided blade. Coated in black varnish to prevent it from glimmering in the light.
The steel blade whirled. A strong gust of wind, causing his target to flutter.
The assassin kept his eyes fixed on the target.
He waited for the wind to stop.
Without a sound, the blade left his hand. The thin piece disappeared without a trace the moment it flew.
All of a sudden, one of the strings holding the prize to its supports snapped.
The assassin readies another blade.
It flew.
Two of the five strings were done. The easy ones.
He leaves the strings close to the top to last. First, he must break the one holding it to the ground.
Whirling up his blade, he closed his eyes and focused in. He has the distance and the structure memorized. The angle was tricky, he had to throw the whirling knife up, have it hang some distance on the outside of the tower, before sliding towards its target in a low arc.
Over and over again, he replayed the trajectory in his head.
All the time, he listened out intently for the slightest change in wind direction.
The blade left his hand.
Exactly as he planned, the whirling blade reached the high point of its trajectory just outside the tower. It tilted to the side and flew in a low arc towards the target.
It missed, hitting the ground and bouncing against the stone supports.
"Huh? What's that?" He heard the sentry atop the wall exclaimed as the knife landed and bounced off the battlement.
The clock has started ticking. Another blade began its whirl.
He took a few moments to adjust. The hang position was too low. The blade was supposed to fly in a bowl shaped arc below the prize, slicing the link before climbing back out.
The blade flew. It hangs. The blade slid just above the ground of the stone platform.
It prematurely begins its ascent knocking against the thick fabric that it didn't have the momentum to check, causing it to bounce against the stone ground and drop onto the battlement.
"What? Hey, are we being attacked?"
The commotion was building. The knights were beginning to move.
To make things worse, the wind was picking up again. It could be another minute before the next opening.
The assassin spins up his blade again. If this one misses, he might have to abandon the mission.
The hang trick was no longer an option. He took a few seconds to calibrate himself to the wind.
The blade flew.
It was in a boomeranging trajectory, flying right past the tower before barreling straight towards the string at the bottom of the prize.
The sound of the blade striking the stone could be heard. The glimmering white cloth was released from its hold and fluttered in the wind.
"Hey! There's a sound coming from on top of the tower!" The knight sentries started coming out of their barracks.
"You there! Which squad are you from?" A knight shouted.
Regis made a dash for it.
"Stop! Intruder!"
The knights chased him.
He dashed around the corner of a building.
The knight followed but was greeted with nothing but shadow.
"Search the place!" More and more patrols appeared. They began filling the areas behind the buildings that were normally unguarded.
"There he is!" A knight pointed to a shadowy figure atop a storehouse.
The guards drew their muskets.
"Surrender or we'll fire!" A guard captain shouted.
The assassin's eyes were fixed on the target.
Whirling blades in both hands. The wind was picking up.
"Three!" The guard captain counted. More and more guards surrounded his position, aiming their muskets.
"Two!"
Pop! The guard standing atop the wall fired a net gun. The weights spread out, casting a net barreling towards its target.
The shadow vanished, causing the rope to hit empty air.
The guards glanced at each other in confusion.
"He's over there! Up along the walls."
Regis dashed along the walls.
A guard drew his sword attempting to block him.
Pow! A powder bomb hit him directly in the face, sending him wheezing.
The assassin dashed past him.
He has a small window to glance up the tower.
The last volley of throwing knives left the cloth fluttering in the wind whilst barely hanging by the last remaining frayed rope.
Sentries were closing in on either side of the wall. There was no room to properly make a precise throw.
All of a sudden, smoke bombs exploded all around.
"We are under attack!"
The ringing of the bell. The guards rushed out of their barracks half dressed.
Regis looked up and saw scores of other assassins gliding towards the compound from above.
One of them dropped directly on his position and swung his staff at him.
Block. Parry. Kick. The boost from his potion was still active as he quickly overpowers his opponent with his high physique.
"Sh*t! Am I seriously getting heist jacked right now?"
All around him fighting was breaking out.
Several gliders floated towards the top of the tower.
"Top of the tower! They are trying to steal, ahem*, something of ours!"
The RazenHeir knight captain bellowed at the tip of his voice. Several knights entered the door to the tower and rushed up the spiral staircase.
The strong wind blew the gliders off course, forcing them to abandon the gliders and scale the wall of the tower.
This gave the knights the window of time to get into position.
A fist brawl broke out. The Razenknights using their extra armour and the butt of their swords.
The assassins using their staves.
The wind picks up as both sides struggle for control over the priceless keepsake.
Parry. Dodge. Dodge. Block. Thrust.
Amidst the chaos, Regis kept his eyes on the prize.
More and more reinforcements were pouring from both sides as more hearthstone keepers emerged from the platform.
The wind was picking up. A throwing knife began whirling up. His last gambit left his hand.
A knight charged him. He dodged but the knight immediately turned and swung the scabbard of his sword at the assassin at a speed that startled even him.
He was just in time to raise his block.
The sheer force of the knight's swing sent him flying.
"I'll see you in the dungeons for this. I'm sure our champion would love to have her way with you after what you have done!"
Regis held his stance before the imposing knight.
His wrist hurts.
Snap. His ears twitched.
The knight looked up and saw the keepsake he was guarding detached from its moorings, allowing the wind to carry it away.
Regis immediately dashed after it.
"Oh no you don't!"
The knight charged and swung his sword. He didn't feel it land.
It cleaved through the shadow cone, dissipating it.
The assassin scaled up the wall.
As he passed the flame ward, he stripped off the RazenHeir disguise to lighten his load.
The keepsake floated above him.
A musket ball flew past him, missing his face by a hair.
He ducked a swing from a sword, closing in on the very first wall that he scaled.
Another guard blocked him from the front.
Parry. He knocked the guard off balance.
With a kick, he sent him flying into the wall, triggering a trap.
The ground below the guard gave, dropping him into a pit.
He was soon surrounded and trapped by a flood of sand.
Thud! A heavy sword smashed the ground.
Regis was just able to dodge at the last moment.
The Razenheir knight quickly picked up his great sword and swept.
His opponent blocked it while holding his own sword at an angle, deflecting it upwards and causing him to lose balance.
In the brief window, he dashed away, shooting his grapple at the gratings along the battlement and hoisting himself up.
The keepsake was floating just above it.
With a quickstep, he hurled himself into the air and stretched out his arm.
His finger touched the soft cloth.
A sudden strong gust of wind blew over him.
"Sh*t no. [Ivory berries] [Ivory berries]"
The gap between him at the prize suddenly widened as his altitude dropped.
He found himself falling off the ledge of the elevated structure towards the streets below.
Watching as the keepsake fluttered away into the air.