Bam. Here we go.
[hider=The Celestial Knight]
"I will ask you this only once: allow me through to the Prince." Ygannea, their lilting voice tainted by the barest hints of frustration. Their knuckes, hidden behind a wall of plate such a dark shade of blue that the night left it nearly invisible, turned pale white as they gripped the tall half of a polearm, topped by a long, curved blade, its back straight as the warrior that wielded it.

Black, pitiless eyes stared two feet down at the two men standing before them, their face hidden behind a mask formed into the shape of a massive, snarling canine, befitting of the towering giant that wore it.

"You know we can't let you do that," one of the men responded, gripping the pommel of his sword. "The Prince is in danger. Nobody is to see him, by order of-"

The sound of stomping boots grew closer, resolving behind the giant. They couldn't discern how many - not yet - but time was of the essence. The men impeding them, they surmised, had gathered the same. One was already pulling his blade from its sheathe, shield at his side, legs bending into a stride. The other was bringing his weapon - a halberd - forward.

Pushing their hand upward, they tossed their weapon forward, catching it again with both in a battle-ready grip. 

Their long, muscular legs carried them forward once step, then two...

And their blade sailed into the gap between the halberd-wielder's helmet and breastplate, striking with such force that it shattered the intervening chain-links and pushed the steel plates, screeching and groaning, apart. Blood guttering from his wounds, the unfortunate warrior was tossed bodily from the nigh-flawless crescent blade, crumpling to the ground like a sack of lifeless meat. The blade continued to move. Slicing downward, and toward the fallen knight's comrade, it bit into the back of his palm, failing to penetrate the steel protecting it yet striking with such meteoric force that it shattered the bones in his hand, leaving him to howl out in pain in time with the sickening crack of his ruined bones.

The giant breathed, their heart thumping to the beat of the leagues-distant hide-drums of their home so loudly it was nearly audible. They howled, too - a bellowing war-cry accented by the clatter their plate-overlaid brigandine made as they moved. They bent their neck backwards, screaming some inhuman, blood-chilling cry at the yellow moon far above.

The marching feet grew closer. Faster. More desperate.

One step. Two. They collided with the sword-wielder, tossing him to the side like a charging bull. An armored boot brought down on his neck crushed his windpipe as the giant shifted their grip, carrying their pole-weapon under a single arm. They cast a glance backward, over their shoulder, as a troop of men-at-arms poured into the atrium behind them. Their eyes glowed faintly, radiating the pale light of distant comets, and the men froze in their bodies, organs crushing and veins exploding under the pressure of the freezing water in their bodies.
[/hider]