[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Oq7VJBTvA0][b]Château de D'Aubigne Interior  Hallway - Noble's Quarter[/b][/url][/center]

"[i][b]PHILIPPE![/b][/i]"

The torn cry echoed across the hallway, past the bodies, past the rubble, to the arrow ridden body of a man sprawled across the hall. From where he laid behind the ruins of a staircase, Balthazar watched as his comrade-in-arms fell and died from the multitude of bloody wounds in him from the crossbow and musket fire, just before a section of ceiling fell from above and buried his corpse.

Just prior to this, he had been in shackles. A prisoner, claimed by Sarife for merely following the wrong ruler. In his search for the young Prince Lucius, he had stumbled onto pockets of resistance fighters and followers within the walled city, united under a circle of leaders, a secretive cadre of former followers and servants of the old King. All had gone on to be members of high society in some shape or form, but had kept their allegiances to the old Kingdom secret. Being one of the old royal guard, elite soldiers especially close to the king and extremely dangerous, he had been instantly taken into the fold, given tasks to carry out often during the secrecy of night. Infiltration, assassination, disruption of supplies, that sort of thing. After he'd returned to Valania his life for the past few months had been this, and he'd taken to his new job with a passion, all the while still searching for the Prince he knew was alive but was always two steps too far ahead of him.

Then, he and one other, an old friend named Philippe were given a very special assignment: at the Château de D'Aubigne, they were to pose as servants, for there was a meeting to take place there. A party. Much royalty would be present, including those detriment to their efforts to restore old rule to the throne of Valania. Their mission: to seek and obtain documents hidden within the chateau's rooms, specifically the many studies and libraries, detailing port logs at the Valanian Port. Shipping manifestos, cargo lists, anything to do with the port. They were to look out specifically for shipments of armaments. Prior spies in the dockworkers guild had uncovered suspiciously large arms shipments to and from Valania, but to whom the Resistance was not sure. That was what they were tasked to find out. The orders came from Valanian royalty, or at least someone high enough up the ladder to make finding their identity through regular means impossible. Thus, their mission. Their progress and news was spread back to the Resistance leaders by way of dead drops and secret, back alley meetings late at night.

However, several weeks into their assignment, grave concerns: dead drops began to go unvisited. Meetings went by with no one showing up. All was quiet. It was only upon investigation that the duo realized that the resistance was being hunted, dismantled piece by piece. Balthazar and Phillipe both realized that they were no longer safe with the rest of their comrades, and instead focused on the task at hand.

Sadly their luck was to run out, as they were caught not long after the resistance began falling. Captured and imprisoned, it was only now that they finally were free.

But to no avail. [i]Phillipe[/i] was dead. The resistance movement falling. Even now, amidst the chaos, Balthazar caught faces, glimpses of his leaders, once secretive, now falling one by one to the Sarifen soldiers. Hunkered down behind a pile of rubble, he turned his back to the conflict, which brought his gaze to someone he thought he'd never meet.

As he laid his eyes upon the familiar faced young man, Balthazar briefly harkened back to a time when that young man was merely a young boy. Fond, happy memories of a peaceful time.

A musket ball cracking through the wood near him brought him back to reality.

Balthazar got up quickly and ducked down low, trying his best to avoid getting killed as he made his way towards Prince Lucius. Upon reaching the Prince where he and his companions were hiding, he dropped to a knee, his face lowered to the floor in reverence to the former Dauphin de Valania.

"My liege, where have you been all this time? Doubtless you do not remember any of your father's Royal Guardsmen, but I was of them regardless. I have searched for you for years, but to no avail. Why are you here?"

Through blinks of sheer disbelief, Lucius found himself gazing upon a familiar face he had believed long dead and for several moments words were beyond any sort of rational elaboration. Before he could speak further, the sounds of screaming warriors soon met his ears and all too soon, the assembled group found themselves embroiled in the thick of conflict. Shouting, the Prince leveled his pistol and fired at near point blank range, felling a pock marked conscript wearing armor and a battle axe.

The man quickly fell only to be replaced by several other screaming Paighans. Moments later, the middle hallway erupted as the Nezam line erupted in massive musket volley of near perfect unison. As the Paighans fell into the doves, the Nezam Warriors advanced, whilst drawing their swords upon the silent Zhayedans and their Azad commanders. 

Lucius wasted no time in drawing the Royal Delacroix retainer away and towards cover before hissing, "[b]Balthasar?![/b] [i]Qu'est-ce que dans les diables ...[/i]"

The Prince paused momentarily as the Zhayedan's crashed into the advancing Nezam line in eerie silence, follow swiftly by rumbles along the crumbling Chateau's walls. Through gritted teeth, he unveiled a fully loaded pistol and slid the weapon along the grounds towards the man before unholstering yet another.

"[i]Balthasar[/i]," he hissed, "[i][b]Is it really you?[/b][/i]"

"Y-yes, my liege, it is I."

Balthazar looked up slowly to look the Prince in the eyes for the first time in years.

"It has been many years since I last saw you, my liege. Oh...how you've grown."

He grabbed the pistol and hefted in his hand, mind still racing with thoughts. Settling on a course of action, he set his face in a grim expression and looked around.

"Alas, my liege, it is not safe here. We have to leave else we meet our ends in this hellish place."

"Had you suggested such a luxury an hour ago, I might have considered," scowling, the Prince ducked as a Chateau ceiling splintered away amidst whistling sound of a cannon ball tearing through the second story sections, "However, given that it [i]is[/i] a little late for that, I fear our choices [i]are[/i] rather limited!"

"Then we fight our way out of here, my liege!"

As he said this, the Nezam line broke briefly, letting past a Sarifen soldier that ran straight at them. Flipping the pistol around in his hand so he was holding the barrel, he ducked and used the hook of the gun's grip to trip the charging soldier. Then as the man fell flat on his face, Balthazar stamped down hard on the back of his neck with his heel, breaking it and killing the man instantly. He knelt and picked up the dead man's weapon, a curved scmitar with a deadly sharp blade, and nodded to himself.

"This will have to do..."

The pistol he stuffed into his belt as he went back to the Prince.

"My liege, the Chateau is due to cave in on itself soon from all this cannon fire. It is absolutely [b]important[/b] that you and your companions are escorted to safety."

As the Nezam line shifted backward from a fresh Sarifen counterattack, Balthazar shook his head in exasperation.

"Would I have Phillipe here, or any other number of my comrades in the resistance, I would've led an escape most daring. Sadly I am the only man here who is not busy fighting our dear Sarifen friends so I will have to make do."

He stood slightly and looked around. All about him, debris and dust rained from the ceiling as soldiers dashed about both above them and on their same level, while cannonballs screamed and tore through wood and marble, stone and glass. Ahead of him the line of soldiers staggered under a fresh offensive, shaken but not stirred as they regrouped and fired another volley of musket balls into the fray. But they were not to hold; the very hallway in which they were fighting in was starting to less resemble a hall and more a pile of rubble. The very foundations shook with the power of the cannon fire. Every extra second they spent within was another step towards their utter destruction.

Right now, his only option was to lead the Prince and his entourage down towards the other end of the hall, where the fighting was less fierce. He turned back to Prince Lucius and pointed the way.

"There, down the other end of the hallway. We [i]must[/i] escape this area, at the very least, to better find a way out of this madness!"

Balthazar knelt and picked up the shield the dead soldier had, before standing back up to his full height.

"My liege, you shall follow me. I will clear a path for you and your companions to traverse unharmed."