>>6040981“When those fell hollows arrived, mine brother went forth to meet them in battle.” Gwyndolin tells you, his voice even more strained. “But he hast not returned. Hours have passed, and the sounds of combat gone. I fear the worst.”
“Please, if you can, save him.” Yorshka implores. “Save our nameless brother from their fell hands.”
“I'll do everything I can.” you promise, sprinting immediately down the hallway and up the stairs towards the turning platform, readying to leap off and take to the air. Only to sense a presence, sliding to a stop at the edge and turning. Seeing a jar beside the lever controlling the platform, one that, despite the light snowfall, has no snow resting atop it. Recognizing the disguise immediately you thrust with your Dragonslayer Spear, only for the illusion to break. A white-clad being, wielding the Dark Hand in his left and a claw weapon with wicked sharp edges in his right rolls under your thrust, rising up into an uppercut aimed for your chin. But you're too fast for the assassin, firing a snap right kick straight into his masked face. Knocking the assassin back into the chamber where a fire once burned, you calling down to the deity below. “ASSASSINS! BE ON GUARD!”
Then, as the masked being rises you dash in, grabbing him by his wrist and jerking his arm overhead with your left while thrusting the spear into his guts with your right. Continuing the motion you pin the would-be assassin to the ground, raising your heel and stomping his head in. Turning it, and shortly thereafter the rest of him into rapidly-dissolving motes of crimson light before withdrawing your weapon.
“Dammit. This could be a problem.” you mutter to yourself, but decide to keep pressing onward. They no doubt heard your shout, as did any other would-be killers lurking about, so they would know their sneak attack won't work. But instead of heading back out that way you take the other path instead, the one that beings who can't fly would take from Irythill. Dashing up the short flight, you see a dozen Silver Knights wielding their Dragonslayer Greatbows firing volleys of spears into the approaching horde, but their weapons are not suited to this task. The bows, weapons designed to punch through armored dragon hides, are not fit for attacking mobs of mortal-sized foes. Sure each spear kills at least two of the undead horde approaching, but for each ten that fall, hundreds take their place. “Need to slow them down, give the knights more time.”
Leaping from the entrance you take to the air, gathering your ki into your left hand. Focusing for a few seconds, you then unleash your power with a shout, relying on one of your father's most common techniques.
“SCATTERSHOT!” you roar, unleashing your power.
