On plains of wide grass and rare tree plantations, the heavy stone fortress stood out like a sore thumb. Dusk had fallen. It seemed that time of day had an affinity for the Miura men, for nearly everything of importance was done with the promise of dark.
Slanted walls of stone brick, strong enough to withstand an earthquake. It was of a simple square build – it was easier that way – and at at the top of the walls, there were wooden barricades for the archers to hide behind and reign fire down upon their foes.
The gates were torn to shreds. Charred and shattered, their remains had made it a distance away from the walls. The archer's cage was in no good condition either. The Hojo men had wasted a good amount of their resources on capturing it.
It was obvious where gunpowder had played a part too. Walls of such solid stone should not have been easy to break, yet in parts, they were reduced to rubble.
