Uldred swept through the crowd of Militiamen and Knights who had gathered around this smaller gate, as all of them hastily parted to make way for her. The men positioned up above them on the wall still hurled down whatever heavy instruments they could get their hands on, and many of the Knights held their shields up as a bulwark against the most dangerous of the falling projectiles. Some of these Knights attempted to move in to provide Uldred with cover as well, but she merely waved them away dismissively, for with how tall she loomed over them not a single man was able to reach above her head, and she was unwilling to stoop down just to play along with such unnecessary measures. Spying her unprotected figure as she drew close to the wall, a man atop it whose burly stature almost rivaled her own smirked in vicious anticipation. He then lifted a particularly large and heavy boulder he had been saving for just such a pivotal moment as this up above his head, his muscles straining from the effort even as his triumphant grin widened, before he finally forcefully hurled the thing down towards her!
Uldred – who was still maskless after hers had shattered in the duel before the gates, had drawn her hood forward as far as it would go without tearing the fabric. However, because of her height, she found that despite her best efforts, the men around her turned to gawk up at her face despite her futile attempts at concealment. The onlookers at her left clenched their teeth and furrowed their brows in a pained grimace before looking away, while those on her right flushed and went slack-jawed as they stared, as if transfixed, at her appearance. All of this unwanted attention caused a horrible wave of embarrassment to wash over this terribly introverted Countess. In the face of oncoming armies and skilled assassins she was steadfast, but exposed and surrounded by the curious gazes of her own allies, she wanted nothing more but to turn tail and run. She was, in fact, so caught up in her stage fright that she did not notice the heavy boulder that was hurtling down straight at her. No sooner had she reached the side door into Coronton than did that massive chunk of stone strike her shoulders–where it immediately crumbled into pieces, erupting into a shower of small pebbles that cascaded down her back!
“OW!” Uldred reared back and bellowed out with a pained cry.
Every man in the vicinity - allies on the ground and foes on the wall alike - stopped in their tracks to stare in a shared moment of bug-eyed shock at the giantess, who had reacted to what should have been a crushing and lethal blow with all the unconcerned annoyance if she had jammed her toe on a chair! She gritted her teeth as she glared up at the source of the attack, the throng of stunned criminals gathered on the wall above, before returning her gaze to the locked door that stood before her. The aftershocks of her embarrassment, combined with this new burst of affronted fury in the pit of her stomach, transformed into an ugly, black mass of frustration. Emitting an aura of hatred so intense it made the soldiers closest to her back up out of self-preservation, she squared her shoulders, widened her stance, and used every ounce of strength she could muster to release all of her aggravation in a balled fist aimed straight ahead!
The door that stood on the receiving end of this might blow, rather than bending, breaking, or even shattering into pieces, remained upright and firm. Instead, it was the stone of the wall in which its sturdy hinges were embedded which gave way under the force of her fist, causing the massive door to fall inwards and atop the throng of men who had stood behind it, bracing their shoulders against it to hold it in place against the intruders. A cacophony of startled and pained cries echoed out from that narrow corridor, the conscripts within clambering and fighting against one another as they scrambled to get out from under the fallen door and back to their feet. No sooner had they succeeded than did the first of the Knights van der Leigh charge forward right at them with reckless abandon, quickly followed by their steel-clad compatriots. Soon the sounds of a fierce battle echoed off Coronton’s inner walls.
Once the most of the Knights and the Militiamen had disappeared inside of the city, Ser Glorifeld approached Uldred and dropped down from the back of his horse so that he was standing beside her.
“My thanks for your... timely intervention, my Lady.” He said carefully, still staring with some awe at that heavy door, which after a single blow from her fist now lay discarded on the grass beside the portcullis. “We were at a stalemate until you came along.”
Uldred did not reply, and from where he stood Glorifeld could not see beyond the shadow of her hood to make out her expression. While he was unsure of her current state and hesitant to speak further, he nonetheless continued as he made his report.
“Miss Finona and her fellows are tending to your companions, but there has been no further sign of that peculiar man. It appears that he has escaped, whoever he was.”
Uldred still said nothing, and did not even twitch a finger in reaction to this news.
“...Shall we also make our way inside, my Lady? We must move quickly to rescue the Count.”
“That’s right!” She said in a tone of sudden realization,, and she finally moved, reaching up with her hands to touch her face.
“R-right.” Glorifeld replied, most confused by her reaction, but too focused on his Lord’s safety to spare it much thought. “Shall we, then?”
“Yikes!” Niklas ducked just in time as a hefty club was swung through the space where his head had just been!
The melee between the guardsmen and the thugs had swiftly descended into an all-out brawl. Neither side were particularly talented or well-trained in wielding their weapons, and so after only a brief period of use, most of them were cast aside in favor of a direct exchange of fisticuffs. In fact, the large man who towered before Niklas was the last foe who still kept ahold of his mace, and he was also the last obstacle that stood Niklas’ way and prevented him from entering the castle hall beyond. It had been a long time since the bookish Count had wielded a blade, but he did his best to remember the training from his youth, always keeping his sword aloft between himself and his foe, and never before had he been more thankful that he had maintained his daily exercises for so long.
Glancing nervously at the sharp tip of the sword that was leveled against him, the thug appeared wary to make the first move, instead waiting in tense readiness for Niklas to advance, who was himself waiting in turn for the other to do the same.
Finally, it was the burly henchman’s patience and discipline which faltered first, and he stepped in close as he brushed aside Niklas’ blade with a leftward swipe, attempting then to bring his club down in a lethal downward swing towards the smaller man’s head. Niklas, however, was benefited by his earlier patience and deftly stepped backwards just in time to avoid the attack, which caused his opponent to startle and lose his balance, With a lunging thrust, Niklas drove his cutlass deep into the other man’s thigh, causing him to howl in pain and fall to one knee!
After waiting a moment to confirm that his foe had lost his mobility, as the man slumped over from the pain and shock of his injury, Niklas then took off past him and down the dark hall, stopping only once to peer back at the men who had come to his aid. They were still engaged in an ugly fight against the rest of the ruffians. He felt most guilty for leaving them behind like this, but the situation was too urgent for him to tarry, so Niklas bit his lip and forced himself to turn and hurry on his way once more.
Compared to the last time he had walked these halls the space was eerily silent. He could only assume that the servants and maids who usually tended it had either run for the hills or were currently huddled in their quarters behind locked doors. His mind wandered to the young and mistreated Alvin, and he wondered if, after aiding in his escape those many weeks ago, the lad was even still alive? If that scoundrel Borney had gone so far as to take the life of the rightful heir of Coronton, there would be Hell to pay!
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After several frantic and worrisome minutes of running through the eerie silence, Niklas came upon a set of double doors which he recognized as those which led into the dining hall. He did not necessarily believe that Borney might be spending his time inside there, feasting, while a great battle raged outside his front door, but this was one of the few places within the Castle that Niklas remembered visiting, and so he decided it was as good a place as any to begin his hunt for clues to the whereabouts of the fraudulent Lord. With some effort, Niklas pushed one of the heavy wooden doors which slowly creaked open, revealing the seemingly empty room within. The large table within was laden with a variety of dishes that had long-since turned cold, apparently having been abandoned in a hurry some hours ago. He slowly crept inside, for the door to suddenly swung shut behind him with a bang! Niklas then swung about on his heels and saw two of those rough Otkornian men stationed at the end of either door, who now loomed over him sinisterly with an arming sword apiece!
“Shit!” Niklas exclaimed, hastily stepping backwards to maintain what little distance lay between himself and the two larger men, but they were matching each step of his retreat with a step of their own in advance!
“The Lord-Mayor sends his regards.” Growled one of the thugs.
It was then that Niklas’ back finally collided with the edge of the dining table! The only thing which kept the other men from lunging forward to capture was the sharp blade of the cutlass which Niklas held shakily before him. One of the goons suddenly decided to test their luck, swinging their sword at him in a great arc! In a feat of agility steered by pure, instinctive reflexes Niklas rolled back over his shoulder and onto the table, somersaulting amateurishly across the assortment of empty dishes and tableware, upsetting them and causing them to fall from the table with a crash!
His two foes began to move slowly to either side of the long table Niklas was perched upon in order to cage him between them, while Niklas himself maintained a steady backward step to avoid them, but he struggled not to trip as his feet met with tableware of various sizes and with various contents as he went. An idea came to him after he narrowly avoided tripping over a heavy silver tray containing a large cut of roast goose, and his foot wasted no time in sending the bird flying at the man to his right, covering him with bits of meat and congealed sauce as it took him by surprise and nearly knocked him clean off his feet! Niklas then leapt down to face the man to his left, and while the size difference between them was still quite daunting, it helped that he had been momentarily separated from his compatriot.
The pair engaged in a quick and vicious exchange as the thug swiped and stabbed at the Niklas recklessly, who just barely managed to bat away his flurry of attacks! The advantage his opponent had over him in terms of strength Niklas found himself countering quite effectively with his own speed, a quality which was arguably preferable in their current circumstances, stuck as they were in the narrow corridor of open space between the dining table and the wall. It was then that the second thug finally recovered enough to join the fray. Niklas sensed him coming around the table from behind him, and he desperately thrust at his current opponent’s head, who narrowly avoided being run through, but in so doing found his right ear painfully separated in two! The man doubled over and screamed in agony as he clutched at the wound, blood pouring out from between his fingers, while Niklas scrambled past him, putting his injured opponent between himself and the approaching one. With a stiff kick to the rear, he sent the bleeding man stumbling forward to collide with his accomplice, and the two fell in a heap to the floor. Before they could even react to this indignity Niklas was upon them, and the tip of his sword was at their necks!
“W-we yield! Yield!” They cried out in fright, for while Niklas was yet a small man and huffing and perspiring heavily from even this short altercation, he was mean in the face, and with his sword and his blood-stained garb he was quite intimidating regardless.
“Good, then tell me where I can find Borney, or I’ll skewer the pair of you right here and now!”
As the remaining criminal conscripts from Otkorn fled from the city walls and into its streets and alleyways, the task of fighting them actually became more difficult for the Host from Petrice, for their enemy was far more acclimated to this terrain than they. What’s more, although in skill, experience, and arms the Knights van der Leigh still held the advantage, as the thugs spread out into smaller groups the Knights were forced to follow suit, and there were far fewer of them to spread around. Each Knight paired away with a squad of Militiamen, most of whom were not quite experienced enough to fight on their own. And while casualties still remained relatively light, the pace of the battle was slowed to a snail’s pace as the horde of thugs maintained a constant fighting retreat as the melee crawled its way across Coronton.
Glorifeld left Uldred’s side to ascend the now-abandoned city walls, so that he might have a better view and therefore issue confident command to his men. Even alone the Countess managed to plow through the smaller groups of Otkornians without difficulty, as she carved a bloody path to the Castle at the center of the city. Most of the thugs she encountered were more keen to escape her than to bar her way, as any sense of morale or camaraderie they had faded quickly once they witnessed one or two of their own falling to her blade. Any men who survived her initial slaughter were scattered to the wind, and were easy pickings for the Knights and Militiamen to deal with from there.
As she came around another bend Uldred took in the sight of Lady Merida and Ser Gregory, her large protector, engaged in battle with a couple of particularly nasty-looking ruffians, men garbed in naught but tattoos and scars, and who grinned ear-to-ear in spite of the carnage around them, or perhaps because of it. All of them turned at once to meet her eyes as they noticed her approach, and she noted that her allies there appeared quite tired and bruised, and they struggled to stand their ground after their prolonged combat against these criminals.
In a flash a large and black-gloved fist had slammed into one of the dangerous-looking men, who was knocked fully off of his feet and sent sailing into his cohort at his side, ending in the two of them sprawling into the far wall! Merida and Gregory winced as Uldred lunged forward and expertly skewered both enemies upon her sword with one thrust, stacking the two atop each other like some gruesome kebab, before withdrawing her blade and allowing their corpses to sprawl limply across the cobbled stone of the street.
“Merida–the Castle!” Uldred called to her Aunt, who stared for a moment in slack-jawed bewilderment as she noticed the unexpected sight of her niece’s unmasked face. “Which way is it?!” She demanded, a note of urgency bleeding into her voice.
Merida found that she was so surprised she could not conjure words in answer, so she simply pointed down one of the roads branching off from the fork further down the street. No sooner had she lifted her finger than Uldred had already taken off in a run in the direction she’d indicated, leaving Merida and Gregory to exchange equally shocked and exhausted looks with one another.
Uldred’s heavy footfalls rattled the earth as she maintained a furious pace, barreling through the main thoroughfare of the City with the force and speed of a cannonball. The sounds of combat grew steadily quieter as she distanced herself from the main body of the conflict. Finally she came to the still-open inner gate beyond which stood the Castle. She arrived just in time to spot another handful of armed goons who were currently retreating through it. As they spied her approach, the thugs began barking at each other in obvious panic. One of them seemed to have spied something which lay out of range of her vision, and he sprinted to the side and out of her view. Realizing what he must have seen, Uldred quickened her pace to make it through the gate before he could release the portcullis and bar her entry. With a speed which seemed it should have been impossible for a woman of her size to achieve, Uldred made it just in time to catch the heavy bars of the portcullis with her hands, holding it aloft in a feat of immeasurable strength!
The thugs halted their approach to gawk at her in naked astonishment, and some even went weak in the knees and fell to the ground as they watched the giantess slowly lift the enormous structure until it could rest upon her shoulders, not unlike a living image of the Titan Atlas carrying the sky itself. Unfortunately, even for a woman as strong as her, the weight of the portcullis was simply too much for her to bear, and try as she might she could not manage to lift it above her head so that she might slip inside, at least not without a moment to rest.
Realizing her predicament, the thugs shared a look of nervous excitement between themselves and slowly approached her trapped and preoccupied form. As they readied their weapons, Uldred could do little in response but narrow her violet eyes.
