Puff. It was nothing but normal air being sucked through a bunch of hay soaked with his own saliva.
Despite that, he kept holding the emptied husk that had been between his fingers.
"Three sentries on the west wall, fixed field of view, changes roughly 15 minutes. Twenty second window when they change"
'Puff'. The wrapping on the stick finally crumpled. The strands of burnt hay within were scattered to the wind.
"Patrols in pairs, random routes left up to the patrollers. Rests roughly every twenty minutes. The gates open every 10 minutes to let patrols through. They don't check. The guards from the two houses don't know each other."
He reaches into his empty pocket for another stick.
"Traps are the normal ones. I brought cremated dead mice to trigger them. I reckon it takes them several minutes to rearm them."
He reaches again for another stick.
"I can't see the inner gates from here. Damn staggered architecture. They are certainly closed so I'm gonna have to scale the walls. The RazenHeir house is it? Their pesky flame wards. Once the flames stick to my suit, I'd be a marked target for hours."
He stands up and dusts himself off. He looked straight at the target.
"My sense of distance must be off today, that does not look like the size of an under garment, that looks like it's the size of a full dress."
One hand on his shoulder, he stretches his arms and leaps off the tower.
"Time to do this."
He hopped along the stone buildings along the scarcely lit roof tops. He stopped right beside the RazenHeir camp at the foot of the structure.
Security was tight, the raising stone platform was the only way in. Scaling the smooth vertical walls would be too tedious and make him a target.
He could sense the presence of a barrier invisible to the naked eye just inches ahead of him.
He waited patiently. The camp had no lodging. It was only a matter of time before the platform moved.
He took out a brown scarf and wrapped it around his neck. The RazenHeir guards wear that while on guard detail.
The gentle rumbling sound of the platform reaching ground level, allowing a change of guard.
The assassin quietly inched towards the landing spot, fixing his eyes onto the platform.
The previous detail boarded the platform.
He waited.
A guard waved a device, the platform lifted itself off the ground.
The assassin watched as hints of flames brushed against the edges as the platform left the barrier.
He held.
It was not the time.
There was a knight on the platform who could sense him if he tried to latch on.
The platform reached the top without incident.
He would have to wait until the next change in detail.
He did.
The guards in the camp took turns to nap as their partner took the post. Occasionally, they would walk aimlessly around the camp as their legs got cramped from the prolonged shifts.
The platform was lowered again. It was a mess boy carrying a tray of biscuits.
The assassin readies himself.
The resting guards stood up from their benches to collect their evening treats. A bit of rowdy chatter could be heard, joking about how inconvenient the city's sewage system was and how they would be back at the estate again.
The mess boy went around the camp, distributing the biscuits, obviously to the hidden shadow watching his every move from above.
The guard messed with him a little, taking more than his allotted share and making him chase him around the camp for a while.
Before too long, his tray was empty. The guards teased him a bit on his way back to the platform.
A rumbling sound as he was lifted off the ground.
It was his chance. The assassin leaped with all his strength at the precise time the platform leaves the flame barrier.
He managed to stick himself onto the barrier.
Strips of cavern caterpillar legs on his torso and arms. They had been a rare commodity since the wyvern peaks became too dangerous to hunt.
They stick to stone better than a pickaxe. Most importantly without a sound.
"Huh? Did I hear something?"
The mess boy exclaimed while glancing around the platform but he couldn't move very much while carrying a large tray.
The platform reached the top uneventfully. Its passenger got off and made his way back into the compound.
A group of hearthstone keepers boarded the platform, they were done with their shift and were making their way back to their own keep.
The platform rumbled and began its way down.
It reached the bottom, unloading the keepers who began walking back out into the streets.
Up on the walls, a sentry yawned. He had been staring at the patch of empty stone ground for his entire shift.
He looked down again, his neck felt stiff. A pair of patrollers walked past him, wearing their usual brown scarfs. He couldn't see their faces and was too sleepy to care.
"Shadow clone."
The assassin patrolled the grounds, blending in as a pair of RazenHeir guards.
He avoids the other patrols for if they would notice an imposter once they get a frontal view.
Especially as the shadow clone mimics the exact movements of its user.
Otherwise, an extra patroller draws no attention as the routes were random.
Patiently, he roamed the grounds, studying the defenses close up.
A low cost illusionary spell, he could maintain his shadow clone for hours.
"Hey! You there!" A coarse voice came from behind.
He froze. His hand gripped a dust bomb strapped onto his suit. The employer placed a hefty penalty on using lethal force.
The hearthstone keeper approached him. He held his ground while keeping up the shadow clone.
"You got a stick?" The keeper asked casually.
The assassin relaxed his stance.
"No." he walked away as the keeper shrugged and returned to his post.
It was a meticulously designed defense line. Every angle was watched by at least two sentries.
Every corner which seemed to be obscured by the uneven shape of the wall contains a trap.
There was no scaling the wall itself without getting caught.
The main gate to the inner compound is now closed. He had seen it open about thirty minutes ago from afar. Even while it was open, it was too heavily guarded to attempt a dash.
The assassin turned a corner. He had thoroughly inspected the grounds.
"Whoever set this up sure was meticulous. But."
He stopped. This was the spot. The sleepy sentry atop did not notice anything off about the pair of clones standing side facing him below.
"Hey! The traps are down!" A keeper shouted. The sentries turned their head towards the commotion.
"How? We just checked them after dinner?"
"Ah, Herda's tits! Blasted rats. I thought we cleaned them last month."
One of the sentries conjured a small stone platform, lowering himself to the ground. The other sentry shrugged and yawned. The RazenHeir patrol who was just below him a second ago had vanished. He just rubbed his eyes.
One wall down. Between the two walls, there were more spots covered in shadow.
"All boogy trapped I bet."
The assassin unsummoned his shadow clone. The inner compounds were patrolled by single sentries almost always in view of each other.
He leaned against the wall, took out a fake stick and placed it against his mouth. The disguise might last at least a few minutes while he takes in his new surroundings.
It was quiet.
The area past the first wall was a small town by itself.
He was not the only one leaning against the wall having a stick.
A RazenHeir guard staggered out of a building and vomited on the pavement.
A knight slapped him on the back to help push the vomit out.
He turned to look at the imposter.
"You there! Take over his post."
He ordered. It didn't seem like the cover was blown.
The assassin walked towards the place where the knight pointed at. Before he could get close, the knight dragged the drunken guard away.
"Shadow clone"
He left his clone at the sentry spot. It would last another five minutes without a direct connection to him. He continued prowling the area.
The second gate was heavily guarded as usual. But the walls were warded. RazenHeir flame wards. Without the special fabric that the house weaves, an intruder would catch fire when attempting to sneak through the barrier.
"Now where is it?"
He walked into the barracks area.
"Hey! Is that Ellis? Yo! Ya done with ya shift haven't ya?"
A guard from a group of smokers called out to him.
He kept walking.
"Yep. That's him alright. Always a stoner."
The doused guards went back to enjoying their night.
"There"
He spotted a trunk with a marking etched on top. Inside was a full RazenHeir uniform.
Within seconds, he wore the uniform over his suit.
"Lets hope I can trust that informant. This has been a wild night so far."
The suit was just his size.
He walked back out of the barracks.
From down here, he could sense the presence of sentries atop the walls.
He kept walking silently, constantly waiting for the moment when the guard was thin.
"Aw snap! Looks like the ward is flickering again." The guard complained.
"I'll go fetch the replacement."
With a wave of a device, the warding construct was wounded down. Carefully, he retrieved the crystal casing mounted on the shaft.
"Hmm? Did I hear something?" He looked around. Nothing but the quiet night and the distant commotion of the festivities.
"I got the replacement crystal."
"Great. Send this one back to the estate on the next convoy."
"Aye."
The assassin leaned against the second wall and took out his stick.