[h2][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQAgrCuKwPc]The Battle of Wintershouse Keep[/url][/h2]
 - 9th of December, 1204, Etwine's rule, Year of Massacres. 

Gregar smiled at the mercenaries in front of them, slowly sitting up before leaning forward and leaning his arms on his knees. The old man had started grinning, showing ugly black teeth. [b]“I think I can't hire you.”[/b] Gregar spoke calmly, looking the man in his eyes, whose grin dissapeared and whose stare turned into a deadly shower of daggers. [i]“We know, Oakheart.”[/i] The message was cryptic and unclear, almost as if it was meant for Gregar only. Gregar understood, though, and lost his smile quickly. Time seemed to stop for a moment.

Gregar quickly raced to get up when the old man stepped forward and reached for the sword on his back. Gregars sword came out of the sheath and so did the old mans. Screams were heard as ladies and servants yelled and headed for the giant doors while guardsmen and knights, noblemen and their sons unsheathed their blades. [b]“FOR THE OAKHEART!”[/b] one knight yelled as a sword cleaved through the air and hit his throat. All that remained after his battlecry were gurgling sounds and a mercenary, kicking the mans body over to die in his own blood. Never the less all the other knights repeated his warcry, strengthened by the fury their comrades' death had no doubt caused. A fury matched only by the mercenaries bloodlust as they saw coin and riches in their future.

The Hillman Weasel was rushing for Amber, someone he'd deem a valuable price, although it would be unsure if she was the target of an aimed attack or he simply liked to take her concubine. He swung his axe wildly in the direction of those near her, including Jovan who had insulted the mercenaries with no end and touched their honour - or whatever remnant of honour they had. Jovan, being the cripple he was, would be forced to decide.. take an axe to the side of his body, to offer someone the chance to kill the man, or jump out of harms way and take a chance that Amber could deal with this savage marauder. Ladykiller, the blonde mercenary, had instead opted to run down a hallway while drawing his longsword, no doubt going off to look for a suitable high value lady to kill or kidnap, no doubt to ask for a ransom. Joakim, an able fighter who was standing near the hallway had noticed him escaping the fights, and chose to chase after him to stop him. Without realizing it, Ladykiller was headed for mothers' room and last Joakim had heard Brier was there too. He couldn't afford to lose the both of them, not so soon after their arrival. 

Gregar watched as the mercenaries started putting men and women to the blade, his own knights stopping them in the act and engaging in combat to afford those civilians who couldn't fight, ladies and young boys and girls the time to escape, though many did meet the blade. As he refocused on the old man, he was barely in time to parry the mans blade with his own, crashing into him with his hip to offset him and push him off the steps that lead to the throne. Giving the old man no time to recollect himself he'd immediatly swing his sword up and down again, stepping towards the old man to cleave his head in two - an attack the man skillfully dodged and at the same time, he launched an upwards aimed slash with his sword aimed to take out Gregar with one strike and cleaving him open from bottom to top. And with Gregars sword still on the ground from his last step, he could barely twist his body outside of the old mans range, forcing him to miss. 

[hr]

Outside, Gidja had lined up some archers on the walls, a mere 50 of them. Meanwhile, other soldiers had started standing with Rolland, asking him who these men were and what they wanted. No doubt Kaz's men were wondering what was going on as they were stuck between the mercenaries and Gregars' men. But as a man ran outside from the keep, waving a red rag of cloth, the mercenaries all got up and headed for the gate. Not realizing what was happening, Gidja would grab a bow from a nearby weapon stand and look to Rolland, waiting for commands. As soon as she'd see him drawing his blade and marching to meet the mercenaries with his force of barely fourty men, she'd order the fifty archers to start firing - they'd need to draw the battle out so the soldiers that were in the inn, in their tents or in the barracks could get to them and support them. If they managed that, they'd outnumber them... for the comming ten minutes, though, it would be a battle in which Rolland would begin with a losing side.

The first mercenaries that would come through the gate were a set of approximately 20 medium armored knights, couching their lances in their sides and aiming for the heads of the soldiers in front of them. If Rolland didn't act fast, he could be dealt a blow that would not be recoverable.

[hr]

Inside the keep Joakim was chasing after the blonde mercenary, following him swiftly and with agile steps, though he remained a knight in manners and didn't hesitate to throw over a table if it made him faster - everything was allowed to stop this man from reaching the rooms he was headed for. As he got closer and closer to the blonde man, it seemed he got noticed and the man actually threw over a table in Joakim's way, who couldn't dodge it and it sent him tumbling. Although the man continued on his way and Joakim wasn't in danger, Brier was. As he stumbled to get back on his feet he yelled down the corridor. [b]“BRIER! Get in a room and lock the door! We're under attack!”[/b] He barely got up again as he continued the chase down the corridor to stop this man.

Gregar, in the main hall, was still busy fighting the old man while combat around him ensued, leading to many innocents dying as well. A quick glance was all Gregar could afford, as he looked over at Brier, Jovan and Arryn to see how they were holding up. He had no doubts that Ash would do alright, though he'd question the ways in which Ash was fighting.. if he was fighting to begin with. Nothing stopped the black knight from seeing this as a bad omen and leaving the castle. Kaz.. was a wildcard. Gregar just hoped he'd kill the mercenaries and die in the process, just in case Kaz would see this as if it were a trap by Gregar. He dove left as the old man struck out again, and the old mans blade struck against a stone pillar. Now was the chance. Gregar grabbed the mans' blade lightly, to not cut himself, and swung his sword at the mans' hand. He'd either have to let go to avoid losing his hand, or risk pulling the sword back just in time.

Why was it that time always seemed to slow down when you were in combat.. it always made it seem as if combat, war.. death, were all beautiful and heroic things. Just as he would swing his sword at the old mans hand, to the right of him a man he knew, Theryn of Burghouse, got cut down. He shared many summers with this man at the beaches of the Falkhalls' duke, sent there by his father to squire for the Athosi together with Theryn, who squired for a famous son of the Athosi duke. It seemed all that training with him hadn't paid off after all, his throat cut by a simple savage hillman who moved on to the next target. He wondered if they'd done this if they had known every man in this hall. Would they still cut down Theryn if they'd known that his wife was with child? Would they still have cut him down if they had known his child wasn't truly his, but he accepted it anyway, keeping the boy as one of his own?

The answer was no, likely not. But Gregar would cut them down all the same, even if he had known them for years, centuries, eons. Justice had to be swift and merciless, because if it wasn't then it was unnessecary and late - two traits justice could not have. These men would die for their attack on men who had let them in in good faith. Blood to be answered with blood. [b]“NO MERCY!”[/b] he'd yell right before his sword would hit. It seemed the old man had tried to pull back his sword, but his old age had disallowed him to do so. He'd pay the price of betrayal later, as Gregar kicked him in the chest after he fell to his knees grasping the stump he had left with his last hand. If the man hadn't bled to death, Gregar would execute him himself for treason. Swiftly moving Gregar moved to the next target, aiding a fellow knight who seemed to be in trouble. Amber and the rest would have to fend for themselves.