After passing the grey barrier, the Mistwalkers find themselves at the southern half of the the wide, open, empty court that leads directly the castle entrance. Veros turns around to look back at Owyn, who, despite being mere inches away, is totally obscured due to the densely cloudy wall. He turns forward again, and is the first to begin his approach.
“Let's go.” The veteran commands with unshaken purpose after he takes his first step.
They quietly, slowly advance upon the huge building. For some reason, the white noise they heard coming from the giant stream of darkness has become faint and muffled, drowned out by the mere clacks of their boots against the giant stones slabs that are tiled beneath them.
They scale one final, smaller case of a dozen stone steps that lead to the wide porch that greets castle visitors. Limestone columns thicker than most trees line the landing, holding up an intricately carved entablature that sports an exhausting amount of detail despite the average Armasstadt citizen likely never having a chance to see it up close.
Tall iron double doors – that feature engravings almost as elaborate as the entablature's – impede their path, but are already left slightly ajar. Huge door knockers hang from each side at above eye level, their heavy metal rings large enough to fit around the waist of an adult human. Through the narrow slit between the doors, they feel a very faint breeze of chilly – nearly freezing air escaping from the interior.
“Let's push this open.” Veros orders, standing to the right door and placing his palms against it. Atticus stands in front of the left and begins to push, as well. Slowly, the giant thresholds creak open with an accompanying deep scratching noise. They likely haven't been moved from their unfastened position since the mist's appearance.
Once the doors are forced completely open, the six adventurers are bombarded with more cold air. They look into the massive, empty foyer that seems to have not had a single soul walk through it in months, and see more thick pillars directing visitors forward with a clearly designated path, and tapestries and banners decorating the walls. A coat of dust covers every conceivable inch of the floor – including the wide, heavily embroidered red rug in the center – so thick that it practically looks like ash.
“This place is... emptier than I expected.” Kellar comments, and his voice echoes gently through the empty hall.
“Indeed.” Veros agrees. “It seems as though not a single soul wandered through here in decades, let alone a mere six months. Still, Owyn mentioned there must be others here, so stay on your guard.”
The sounds of their steps against the tile are amplified a significant degree as they reverberate through the drearily empty atrium. The eerie silence is a stark contrast to the sheer size of the room, as it undoubtedly saw much foot traffic before the mist came into existence. Directly ahead, facing back towards the entrance, are two wide staircases off-center from the middle of the room, but curve upward and join together at a platform that stands about twenty feet over the foyer floor, overlooking everything.
“That must be the platform leading to the ballroom.” Atticus surmises. “He said to ignore it since it's a dead end.”
“That might be true, but I'm still curious.” Royd remarks, carressing his beard pensively.
“If you want to climb more stairs, be my guest.” Kellar sourly comments as he walks forward, paying very little interest towards the ballroom.
Not eager to exhaust his legs further, nor waste any time, Royd ultimately gives up on the idea of ascending the winding staircase and proceeds straight ahead with the rest of the group. They pass between more limestone columns that support the platform directly above, and continue down a hallway below the ballroom floor. The ceiling is quite high and there are several doors leading to smaller rooms that seem to be various studies, all as equally disheveled as the dozens of village homes the group have come across. Tables, chairs, knocked-over lanterns and spilled books are all covered with the same dense collection of dust.
At the end of the hallway is another pair of double doors, this time sized normally and made of wood, with a glass window in the top half that allows people to peer out into the courtyard. Veros, who is still at the front of the group, takes a brief moment to ensure the coast is clear before pushing them open and walking out into the large, open area. There are two intersecting cobblestone paths cutting across the very center, leading the southern door – which the Mistwalkers emerged from – to the foyer towards the north. The east-west path connects two buildings that seem to be personal quarters for live-in personnel.
The four quadrants of land created by the intersection are patches of grass with a single, partially withered tree in the middle of each. Stone benches were deliberately placed in the right areas where they would be under the shade cast by the oaks depending on the day, had they still been healthy, and had the sun not been largely obscured by the constant erupting darkness above.
“We're close.” Veros utters, staring up at the beam towering over them, inching closer and closer to the source.
“Are you sure we shouldn't worry about these other buildings?” Kellar asks, pointing to the towers to the east and west sides of the courtyard. They stretch eight floors up, with an exterior walkway along each level. Dozens of doors and windows face out towards the courtyard, but they're all securely shut. “Maybe they have valuables in them.” He attempts to slyly suggest they begin looting, but the others are clearly too focused ahead to care.
“They're likely just living quarters for servants and visitors and such.” The veteran dismisses any need for a detour. “We shouldn't let ourselves get distracted.”
“...If you say so.” Kellar responds under a small, defeated sigh. He continues to examine the empty verandas, partially expecting something to emerge from the doors that are evenly spaced along the entire side of each tower. It's no question that this courtyard must've been quite busy with activity from guests, servants, guards, and others walking from one point to another before the mist appeared. However, to see a space that crammed many individuals into a small area now so empty strikes a sense of unease into him that didn't quite manifest itself as strongly when they were simply walking through abandoned villages.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
The Mistwalkers continue along the path to the northern end of the courtyard, where another pair of tall metal doors await them. Though not as large as the ones at the very entrance of the castle, they still stand a significant measure over any of the adventurers, and are just as decorated with detailed engravings.
“This should lead us into the last foyer before the congregation hall.” Atticus remarks, admiring at the craftsmanship of the sturdy threshold.
“Let's get it open, then.” Veros says as the approaches the left door and grabs the steel bar that crosses it at chest height. “The hinges are on this side, so I guess we have to pull. Atticus, grab the other door. Everyone else, step back.”
The knight grabs the long handle on the right door, and both men begin to pull. Slowly, the heavy slabs of iron creak open, blasting the other four standing before the entrance with another rush of cold air. Once the doors are open, they cautiously walk inside.
The foyer is shaped like an extremely wide, long hallway with more thick limestone pillars lining the center path, connected together at the top by more entablatures. The path itself is another decorative rug, black and extremely detailed with complex, swirling patterns of silver and gold color. The room has an incredibly high ceiling topped by an oblong dome made of glass, allowing anyone inside, under normal circumstances, to catch a view the mountain peak overhead. However, the sight is now almost entirely blocked by the unending beam of miasma coming from the next room.
The walls are divided into rectangular sections, each measuring at about twelve feet long and ten feet tall, bearing different, colorful fresco paintings of Armasstadt's history, including portraits of past leaders and royal families, scenes from battle, the surrounding landscape, and major events that occurred within its boundaries. The artwork covers the entire bottom-most part of the east and west walls, leading all the way from one end of the long foyer to the other.
“This is quite a fancy place.” Royd comments, admiring the paintings and transparent dome above them. “More so than many places in Evatica.”
“Hello?!” Kellar asks aloud at a raised volume. He listens as his voice echoes through the giant, empty hall. Once it finally fades away, he blows an impressed whistle. “Damn, this really is somethin' else. I've never been in a room this huge.”
“We can be in awe at the architecture later.” Veros remarks, growing more impatient, anxious even. “We're only steps away from the source of the mist; we can't waste anymore ti–” After beckoning the others to follow him and turning to proceed onward, he immediately falls silent and stops walking. An expression of shock sweeps across his face, and the color nearly drains from it.
“What is it?” Atticus asks, prying his attention away from the paintings. Veros doesn't answer verbally, but only points ahead. The knight turns towards the northern end of the foyer, and quickly unsheathes his sword. “Shit...” He utters, taking a defensive stance.
The others, also previously distracted by their surroundings, turn ahead to see what the ruckus is, and notice something they didn't see as they were walking in: a giant, hulking guardian in weathered iron armor from head to toe, kneeling towards the door to the congregation hall. He's as tall as the corrupted undead monastery knight the group encountered before Rosemont, if not slightly taller. Instead of a halberd, however, he's armed with a giant two-handed greatsword, though his body has swollen enough to allow him to grip it with a single hand.
“Fuck!” Kellar exclaims softly, grabbing his daggers in preparation for a fight. The others follow suit and scramble to steel their nerves and stand in a position favorable to their fighting styles – Erik and Zyra at the rear, the others at the front, with Veros and Atticus in the middle.
“I figured it was a matter of time before we encountered at least one enemy.” Veros comments as he unsheathes his blade.
“Doesn't seem he's noticed us, though.” Royd says, eyeing the unmoving giant knight. “What do we do? How do we approach this? He almost looks bigger than the one we fought on the way to Rosemont.”
“We'll just have to employ the same strategy we used against the last one we fought.”
“This guy seems to have all of his armor on, though.” Kellar remarks, referring to the giant foe's boots, a feature absent from their last fight against a giant, which was a large contributor to their victory. “We might need to change things up a little for this one.”
“I'm not sure how...” Veros responds, reluctant to approach. “We just have to stick to what we know. Just as before, Atticus and I will try to keep his attention as much as possible. Kellar, Royd, you two stay behind him and look for any opportunity to strike.”
“Strike where? We can't focus on the back of his legs as easily as before.”
“Try it anyway – specifically his left leg, since that's his unarmed side, so he'll have more trouble reaching you. The back of his knee may be armored, but it's still considered a weak point. And until you get the opportunity to attack, stay out of reach of his sword.”
“Fine. Other weak spots in armor that we should know about before we start this?”
“The back of the thigh, the face, and the elbow. Those spots are usually the frailest parts of any plate armor. I imagine your daggers are probably quite ideal for puncturing.”
“Should I bother keeping my shield?” Royd asks, lifting the giant slab of metal in his left hand.
Veros looks at it for a brief moment before shaking his head. “It would probably be useless in this. Even if it takes the hit, the force would almost certainly still knock you over and make you vulnerable. Having both hands available to you will also allow you better use of your axe, which might be our best bet at doing the most damage. Just let Atticus and I keep his attention while you stay out of his reach until the opportune moment to strike arrives.”
The woodcutter takes a deep breath. “Fair enough.” He drops his huge shield and two-hands his axe instead.
“And what would you have us do?” Erik asks on behalf of himself and Zyra, who aren't sure of how they'll be of use in this fight.
“Honestly, I don't know.” Veros responds sullenly. “Aside from trying to aim for the weak spots I mention, I don't think there's much else for you two to do. Your bow might not be large enough to provide enough force to penetrate the cuirass. Zyra's fireballs might be able to help, but not very consequentially. Worst case, you'll probably just draw his attention away from us and towards you, instead.”
“I'm sorry.” Zyra responds, dejected at her inability to provide as much assistance as she'd like. “I could help more if I knew more spells.”
Erik nudges her with his elbow, drawing her attention. “We can figure something out. Just stay patient.” She nods meekly in response.
“Alright. Is everyone ready?” Veros asks the other three men who plan to fight in close quarters while keeping a keen eye on the enemy ahead.
“As I'll ever fuckin' be.” Kellar gives a usual snide reply, soaked in apprehensiveness and a desire to avoid the conflict entirely.
“Let's advance. Slowly.”