The second watchtower is silenced. We move up the mountain to the next bend in the path, where the second fortress stands. Rather than the lackadaisical approach to security seen at the first fortress, there are actual guards guarding this one. Two of them, standing outside the entrance. We'll just have to mount a full-out assault if we hope to prevent them raising a general alarm.
The three of us not in noisy armour creep up as close as we can, and once we think we can't get any closer we attack. Gowan the Bone Harvester and I loose arrows at the two guards, and Toogood rushes in and accidentally decapitates one of them. The first, stuck with a couple of not-very-damaging arrows, panics and rushes in to the fortress. We'd better follow.
I charge in, stabbing the guard with an arrow, and find myself in the middle of some unarmoured members of the One Hundred pushing barrels around. Whatever floats your boat, weirdoes. The slaughter starts here. Well, with Toogood charging in behind me, anyway, after Gowan rushes in to the corner and disables the alarm bell.
Some manoeuvring and plenty of stabbing and slashing cuts down the eight guards without much fuss, and we move towards the sleeping quarters. We're fairly sure where they are, assuming the layout of this fortress is similar to that of the first. Indeed, Farrel pulls open the door to see some disorganised and sleepy guards in their pyjamas. Poor them. It takes another ten seconds to cut them down too.
There's one more main room, the mess. We open the door to that to see a couple of sergeants cooking stew. That's peculiar. What was their thought process when hearing the shouts, weapon clatter, and blood-gurgling death throes? 'This stew needs more salt'? Either way, now that they see us they are reaching for their weapons.
'You notice that one of the sergeants is clean and neat, the other is scruffy and has stew stains all over him.'
'I smell a sitcom!'
But before we can get them standing back-to-back, arms crossed, saying 'this guy' to each other, they have their weapons and stride up to the door. 'Surrender, you fools!' says the first.
We glance back at the dozen corpses behind us, all twenty-second fresh, and us with barely a scratch. 'Did he just say "we surrender, you fools"?' Apparently not, as he swings his mace at Farrel. More fool them, as they'll soon just be two more corpses of the One Hundred. They'll have to think about changing their name after we're finished.