Tristan crossed the divide between the wall and the arrayed army. He didn't worry about being quiet, as the clatter of the offensive force getting their weapons and equipment ready more than masked any sounds he would make. He got all the way through to the back lines and made for the supply train that lay another few-hundred feet away.

Slowing down to catch his breath, he approached along one of the dirt paths; not on the dirt itself, as to avoid kicking it up or coating his greaves. Instead, he made sure to walk on the tramped-upon grass from the army's advance – hiding his approach. The supply train was full of people in light clothing, not armed and armored soldiers.

And why would they have guards back here, Tristan thought. No need to have any soldiers when the opponents are in front, and they plan to break the city with the siege equipment.

The army began to give up shouts as the gates far off from Tristan ponderously swung open. There was hesitation amongst the lines, but ultimately the army slowly advanced towards the open gates – arrows raining down from them all the while. Most of those arrows were useless as they impacted the mobile palisades, and some return fire was exchanged.

A handful of troops in the assaulting force fell before the scattered hail of arrows, and while Tristan didn't see any defenders on the wall fall, he was sure that there had to be a few injuries. Now if they stick to the plan, they'll keep firing and retreating as they bleed the army. Obadai can deal a crushing blow that will probably destroy a good portion of the city…but lighting the whole place on fire will make the fort unassailable for a decent length of time.

He turned his attention away from the walls and snuck into the supply camp. Judging from the number of carts, crates, barrels, and other goods, this was the bulk of the army's resources. They got all of this here without being noticed? The heck were Prince Merrill's scouts doing? He can't have just had the one group of scouts who picked up me and Obadai.

Tristan found his answer soon enough as he saw a few carts with cages on the back, and he assumed they were captured forces of the Flors faction given their deplorable condition. Emaciated and wasting away inside the confines of their mobile prison. He made for those carts immediately.

Getting alongside one, he leaned in towards the bars and whispered very quietly. "I'm a friend, you cannot see me, but do not speak. Just nod or shake your head." The blonde-haired man, skin drawn taut, nodded very subtly. "Good. Give me a thumbs up if you are Flors scouts."

The man let his arm dangle through the bars of the cage next to Tristan and made a thumbs up. He whispered back, "Water…food…"

Tristan uncorked one of his clearcool elixirs and slid it into his hand, "Drink quietly."

The man tucked his head into his chin and quickly quaffed the elixir, sliding the glass vial back to Tristan. "Thanks," he barely whispered.

Tristan moved under the cart as he heard armored steps approaching. From his low-view vantage point, he saw booted greaves and heard a haughty voice. "You lot were going to be bargaining chips…but it looks like Prince Merrill is not here. Despite the reports."

Tristan understood immediately, they think that the defenders are a token force, and that Prince Merrill has gone to the front lines – since the city is so sparsely defended.

He heard the sound of steel being pulled from a sheath, "That means you're just taking up space."

In one swift motion, Tristan reached out, grabbed the person by both of their heels, and yanked them towards him. As they collapsed to the ground, he scrabbled up next to them, drew his knife, and stabbed it down into their neck. Their gurgling was the only sound that greeted him, and he wrenched the blade back and forth to make sure they stayed silent. He could see the slight bit of blood on his palms, and he wiped them lower down on the person's tabard as to not interrupt his invisibility.

Grabbing their legs, he dragged them under the cart and heard the jangling of keys. Convenient, he thought as he snatched those, grabbed the sword, and got out from under the cart. "Listen," he whispered, handing the keys to the blonde man along with the sword. "You free your brethren. Get some gear from the tents and dress up as Founts men. When you see the siege equipment unattended, sabotage it."

The man nodded and whispered back, "Understood. Thanks, stranger."

Tristan slinked away and scanned the area for other armed personnel. He spotted a few of them, staring over at the walls and talking amongst themselves. In the distance, the army had reached the gates and were making their way in – leaving behind the siege equipment. As expected, he thought. They will leave it behind, then once they realize the fort in the center is occupied, they'll bring the siegeworks up and into the city. I strike those and disable as many as I can. But first I have to deal with these guards so the prisoners can have free reign of the supplies.

There were other people going around, sure enough, but they were noncombatants. Tristan was pretty sure that when the supply camp was threatened, they would flee. An idea popped into his head, and he grinned. Spinning his essence crucible, he pushed the powerful energy into his amulet and activated Disguise Form – taking on the guise of the man he had just killed, fully armored up and with his helmet on tight.

Dropping the invisibility, he walked up and joined the other guards looking at the wall. "Crazy, isn't it? They just opened up their gates."

One of the guards looked at him, "Pfff. The city wants to surrender. Just a few defenders holding out, I'd wager."

Tristan nudged that soldier, "Come on. Let's see to the prisoners."

"I thought you took care of them?" The man asked as he turned and a curious tone inflected his voice.

Tristan chuckled, trying his best to put on an aura of being carefree. "That's a lot of throats to slit. I don't want to have all the fun."

The other soldier nodded and Tristan led the way towards one of the prison carts that was behind a tent, still occupied, but out of sight from the other guards. Wheeling around, he slashed across the man's neck, grabbed him by the shoulders, and took him to the ground. Tristan dug the blade into the middle of the windpipe to make sure the job was done, and ripped the dagger side to side.

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Dragging the corpse under another cart, he spotted the group of prisoners he had given the means to free themselves fleeing the battlefield – going off into the distance. Well, that's one plan scrapped, he thought. Silver lining though – I can repeat this ruse. He grabbed the keys, tossed them to the prisoners on the cart, and whispered, "Free yourselves, sabotage the siege equipment."

He spun his essence crucible, re-used Disguise Form to take on an appearance of the guard he had just killed, but not covered with slight blood, and went to the far end of the supply camp. He repeated the ruse again; luring a guard back towards the prisoner carts with the promise of slaughter, killing them silently, and hiding the corpse under the cart. He was able to repeat the process several times, slaying five of the guards before he had almost drained his essence. Taking one of his two (greater) essence elixirs, he reverse-spun his crucible to suck in the energy faster as he gulped it down.

It filled him to the brim, and he was able to keep up his charade and slaughter until all but four guards who were near the center of the campsite were slain. They were drawn by the sounds of combat to watch the walls, and thankfully Tristan had not been discovered – neither were the corpses.

He also wasn't the only disguised guard anymore – some of the prisoners had stripped their captors and now walked about in the armor of their foes. Through silent whispers and coordination, Tristan had ensured that they would not attack him by adding his maul onto the back of his Disguise Form.

Walking up to the last trio from behind, he drew the enormous weapon and pulled back. With a titanic swing he slammed the maul into the first guard's head – crushing it and sending him bowling into his allies.

Two of the prisoners who had disguised as the guards pounced on the living foes and stabbed them to death. Tristan raised his maul silently – but the sudden display of violence had sent some of the nearby supply train workers running, screaming in several directions. "Stealth time is over," Tristan stated. "Get the rest of the prisoners free. Get them into the spare armor and equipment. Then, head for the siege equipment. No matter what you do, do not enter the city."

He heard a few affirmations, dropped the Disguise Form, and heard the few gasps of the rescued soldiers and scouts.

"An Elf?"

"I've never seen a full blooded one before."

"White hair?"

Tristan slotted the maul into its loop on the back of his armor and performed the spell gesture for Minor Invisibility. Spinning his essence crucible, he whispered the spell phrase, and vanished from sight. Jogging towards the farthest end of the supply train, he clambered atop one of the empty prisoner cages and looked out at the battlefield.

About two-thirds of the army had entered the city and the siege equipment was left unattended by all except a handful of men per each one of the devices. Then, the sky erupted.

Tristan winced and covered his ears as an enormous column of flame blasted into the sky. Crimson flames, that then turned into a brilliant gold flecked with deep blue sparks. The entire city had to have been consumed, as the wave of heat that reached Tristan was akin to a hot summer's breeze – and that was with his consumption of fire dragon blood giving him resistance to flame and heat.

The sound of crackling permeated the air, and all of the flame that had ascended skyward surged down just as quickly as it had erupted upward – and it spread. Tristan imagined it as a flowing torrent of water, as he saw it almost roil over the walls – the golden flames licking up to the battlements before fading from sight. The stream of golden, crimson, and dark blue flames surged from the gates.

Now! Tristan ran forward towards the siege equipment. Troops were trying to re-gather their senses, and he did not bother with trying to kill any of them. Instead, drawing his sword, he slashed at the ropes holding enormous tension of the trebuchets. With creaks and cracks the wooden timbers shook themselves apart at the sudden loss of their supportive structure.

This, too, incited panic among the attacking army. Not only had two-thirds of their forces been wiped out by a massive, city-wide fireball, but their siege equipment had just malfunctioned – and men began to flee. The ran; away from the city, towards the supply train…and were cut down by men in their own armor.

Tristan went around the perimeter of the city exterior walls, destroying siege equipment with well-placed strikes to the ropes and linchpins. The exception were the battering rams – he had no way to disable them, and with the moat surrounding the fort, they would be hard to utilize anyways. He had to repeat his Minor Invisibility spell as the day dragged onward, and he felt tired as the constant activity wore on his stamina.

I…may need to do that…trial of the sap thingy…to get my endurance improved. Nonetheless, Tristan pushed on. The attacking army had begun to regroup into units, but were keeping their distance from the city. But it seemed that their spirit was broken. They began to head toward the supply caravans – which at that point, Tristan had almost circled all the way back to. Thankfully, none of the disguised scouts or soldiers seemed to be around.

They're going to flee, Tristan thought as he sheathed his weapon and headed into the city. The destruction that he saw was awe-inspiring and terrifying. The entire city, from the stone walls to the moat surrounding the fort, had been flattened. Only stonework remained – and even that looked to be melted along the edges. An obliterated space. On the plus side, Tristan thought as he headed to the fort, there is plenty of space to remake the city in a more orderly way.

He got to the moat after a few minutes of walking, and he dropped the invisibility. "The army is leaving! Let me in!"

A rope was tossed down along the outer edge of the wall, and he peered over into the moat – spotting hundreds of partially-charred corpses. People who tried to flee the flames by jumping into the spike-pit, refuse-filled, watery moat. Poor bastards, Tristan thought as his stomach churned. Up to that point, the city smelled of burnt wood and hay. But now, he smelled the stench of cooked flesh, and he lost his stomach.

Wiping his mouth clean with the back of his armored gauntlet, he descended onto the pile of corpses and walked across them to reach the knotted rope. Grabbing on, he began to climb as it was pulled up.

As soon as he crested the top, a blade was pointed at his neck. "What gives?" he demanded as he looked at the black-haired, middle-aged man who held the sword.

The man sneered at him, "You took command of Prince Merrill's garrison without authority."

Tristan gripped the blade with his armored gauntlet and ripped it from the man's grip. "Where the fuck were you?" He demanded as he felt anger build. "Thanks to my plan, the army is routed, prisoners have been saved, and the city is safe."

"Safe? You call this safe?!" Prince Merrill shouted as he came up to the walls. "You burned the whole place to the ground!"

Tristan tossed the sword on the ground and turned to the ruler. "Obadai and I saved your city. Speaking of, where is he?"

"Resting inside," the prince replied. He walked right up to Tristan and looked him in the eyes. "You…you destroyed a whole city," he said with a voice full of authority. "Consider our deal revoked."

Tristan crossed his arms, "Without me and my Archon, you would have lost the city and been held up in a siege. My fairy dragon companion is on her way to get your army and bring them back. You would really go back on your word regarding this contract? Ruin goodwill with a foreign ruler?"

The woman from before, the essence-weaver, Marineaux, ran up behind the prince. "My king, your city is not the buildings. It is the people. Only a handful of your troops were slain, and all of the citizens are alive! Lord Tristan saved prisoners by his account, and your army is still fresh on the front. We can rebuild, your grace."

Prince Merrill looked at the woman with a stern gaze, then let out a grunt of disgust before glancing back to Tristan. "You get your damned contract when my brother lies slain. Your Archon stays here to recover…we ride to the front!" he shouted the last to the gathered troops, and the prince began issuing orders.

Tristan followed him down the stairs, giving a sidelong glance at the garrison commander who glowered in return. Getting to Onyx and Midnight, Tristan mounted up on the former and brought Midnight along. It took thirty minutes, but soon enough there was a mounted force, led by the prince, heading out of the city. The gates were closed behind them by the remaining garrison, and Tristan steeled himself for a few days of travel.

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