Sir Gerard's blade pierced armor and flesh and bone, the mercenary wholly unprepared for such a swift attack. He let out a rasping gurgle before crumpling to the floor, his blood leaking out onto the stone below.
Fanilly relaxed, only slightly. While she was certain that it would be nearly impossible to remain unnoticed all the way to the bottom chamber of the mausoleum, they could potentially mount a surprise attack on the guards below.
One thing she could be thankful for, at the very least, is that it didn't appear as if any of the other crypts had been broken into. As unnerving as simply being in a cemetery could be at night, the young knight-captain was glad(if somewhat uncertain as to why) the necromancer hadn't disturbed any of the other mausoleums... was it to remain unnoticed more effectively? The idea of unearthing the bodies of so many dead simply to serve as slaves... it was a terrible thought. Necromancy was something that had always made Fanilly's skin crawl. Manipulating the dead simply for one's own gain... oh, she did know of the more benevolent uses of the often-dark art. Preserving severed limbs to be reattached, keeping 'dead' organs functioning. She had once heard of a knight whose heart had died, but with the quick thinking of their magic-wielding companion managed to live for many, many, many more years due to necromantic arts used upon their heart. Fanilly did not know how that tale ended, however. But it was far more frequent that necromancy was used for darker, more fiendish purposes.
"... We should try and capture at least two of their number if possible, of the leaders," Fanilly said, as she drew her sword and carefully approached the doorway of the mausoleum, "But only if it does not mean endangering the life of Vosahnn's sister."
That was paramount. Striking down the conspiracy to assassinate the Crown Princess and rescuing the young nem's sister. Whatever she would face for an attempt on Princess Eliabelle's life was irrelevant now. All that mattered was ensuring her captured sibling was rescued and ensuring that none of the people who were behind this plot escaped.
If nothing else, Fanilly was certain of this.
She inhaled deeply as she approached the doorway. What she was not so certain of was her ability to achieve these goals... but there were no other entrances to the mausoleum.
That meant they could pen their enemies in.
And they
had to save the nem's sister...
As the group approached the doorway, carved with the visage of Mayon extending her hand towards those below, Vosahnn swiftly scratched out a message in response to Sir Jarde's questioning.
'NECROMANCER AT BOTTOM''SEVERAL DOZEN MERCENARIES'It wasn't much new information, and the necromancer being at the bottom of the mausoleum was obvious, but it was at least enough to know what to expect.
Fanilly slowly pushed the door open.
Within, the mausoleum was dusty, but it was clear that people had been here. There was a table with a small amount of offerings placed upon it, as if only one person had been giving them.
Among them was a knitted doll with buttons for eyes, that looked to have been there for a few years now. Maybe three.
Fanilly stepped into the crypt, beckoning the other knights to follow her.
As she did, the light of a torch was visible advancing up the right side of the twin staircases that lead downwards.
The bearer was revealed quite quickly, a dark-haired man clad in light leather and steel, a longsword on his hip and a torch in one hand.
There was no-where to hide, certainly not for a group of armored knights. And so...
"Argus, your shift is-Wh-what?!" cried the mercenary, "The... the Iron Roses?! Damn it...! Everyone, there's-"
Fanilly took a deep breath and ducked low, sprinting forward with her own blade held in both hands. As the man realized what was coming immediately, but was unprepared for it to come so quickly. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, drawing it, but it was quite simply too late.
She'd driven her blade up and through his chest, aiming squarely for the heart to kill him as quickly as possible.
The small knight stepped back, letting the body fall limply with one final gasp, the torch hitting the floor and rolling down several steps...
But the sound of feet rushing up from below was already clearly audible.
There was no further time for any kind of stealth.
"Iron Rose Knights, charge!"
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