by Roy the Chanter 16th June 2017, 5:00 pm
By the time Kite finished speaking Roy's clones had already moved to the locations they needed to go, with his fog setting in he could afford to loosen the grip that his enchantment held over his clones and his smoke hands. Normally they would blend in with whatever background the were apart of becoming effectively invisible. However the less he concentrated on it the more opaque it become. Right now it would normally have appeared as if a faint shimmer in the air, but with this dense fog it was as good as it could possibly manage to be.
Roy did not pay attention to Luna or to Zar. At this point nothing they said mattered to him, only the faintest glimpse of his sanity remained, and he was using all of it to dedicate himself to one thing. His loyalty to Sabertooth. So the guildmaster's words rang through his ears. Fine then, he thought to himself. If those are my orders then I shall fullfill them to the best of my ability. Roy knew that he could see through his own fog, Luna probably had something that allowed her to do so as well but he wasn't sure. And he was sure that Zar would figure something out. But right before they all went their seperate ways Roy looked towards Luna and gave her one warning, a warning that she would be wise to heed. "Luna, I have a plan. You would do wise to not enter the keep until after I go in. Trust me you'll know when I do. If you decide to ignore this i'm not in the state of mind enough to care. And you will get hurt."
But with that Kite was off and he was left with to the task appointed to him. As soon as possibly he flew away on his cloud through the fog to the south side of the wall where he was assigned. His clone's already positioned where they needed to go on the west side. He would hold nothing back here. Perhaps this would be the first day that he took a life, he hoped not. He couldn't imagine that he would be the same after such a thing but he supposed that he would do what needs to be done. For the good of Sabertooth, even if it costs him his character, his life, or his limbs.
Racing off on his cloud he looked below him. As soon as he was in position he would strike. As Roy reached his destination only moments after racing off towards it. He began filling the area below him with methane gas. While they had been talking Roy took notice of the keeps cannons, and he sent his clones to search for their armory. Where likely they would keep an ample supply of gun powder.
Roy pulled out a cigarette from the first pack that he had ever bought. Lit it with a small flame that he generated. He inhaled a few times, the nicotine was high, that was nice, he felt a buzz go throughout his body. But it was course and smelled foul compared to his sweet pipe tobacco. He would stick with pipes, but for the time being this would serve him better. He dropped the lit cigarette down onto the castle.
It ignited the gas that Roy had been building up since he got here, as well as four or five barrels of gunpowder. The explosion on the south wall was massive. Flames erupted everywhere, the ground shook and the men nearest to it that survived dove for cover and tried to cover their ears. Blood splattered everywhere and body parts rained down on the ground. He had picked his spot well it seemed. There was no way to know how many people were affected, killed or wounded. But the number of people crying for help were surprisingly few. Must have been more effective than he imagined.
Roy knew the people would be coming to check out the area and perhaps save their wounded comrades so he set himself down near the rubble and the bodies. While his smoke hands snaked their way up the wall grabbing the arhcers by their legs and pulling them down. If the fall didn't kill them then his hands would continue to beat them or stab them with their own weapons until they died.
Roy noticed a pair of blades lying on the ground and picked them up. His family had trained him to kill, his refusal to do so was what made him leave home. He smirked. Guess he had become like his father after all. When the nearest surviving troops managed to make their over to Roy he shouted at the top of his lungs and dove in to battle. Hacking and slashing stabbing and dodging and whirling to cut every exposed piece of flesh, put a hole through every weak spot in the armor he saw. He was here to claim their lives now, loosing all control Roy fell into a homicidal rampage and held nothing back. He had forgotten how good of a swordsman he actually was, but now his old skill came back to him, and for the first time he was able to fight at his absolute best.
For the west wall his clones did much the same thing, only they had gathered every remaining barrel of gunpowder that they could find, a total of fifteen in all. Roy's clones had already conjured their smoke hands used these to light every barrel at once at a point of their choosing.The hands could only be destroyed with magic so they would be fine. However the men they were fighting not at all. This explosion without a doubt killed even more men, maimed even more, and shook the castle itself. Soon after Roy's clones fell into Roy's own madness and they all picked up what swords or blades they could find in the castle and began fighting as fiercely as Roy, turning their enemies into mincemeat for the time being. Only this force was far more terrible than Roy, with a total of 40 ethereal hands taking up arms against them, and four fighters just as skilled as Roy.
The last thing Roy remembered hearing before he blacked out to his anger completely was a man shouting to anyone that could hear him. "Where is MARS!? Tell me where he is! His life belongs to ME!" Over and over gain until he lost himself to his rage.