"I've got another trick, old man," Vol said, hefting his hammer, and allowing it to drop over the side of the wall. He followed after it in short order, scampering down the well-worn stone as if he'd spent his entire life doing it.
With it, he'd breached the castle's inner defences, and there didn't seem to be a man capable of stopping him.
Commander Torn was forced to try and crane his neck for a better look, but he was unable to call up any of those oil pots that Vol had expected to be thrown at him. Whether they had simply run out, or whether they'd encountered some other sort of problem, Vol was unsure, but he did not ignore the fact that his instincts sensed not the slightest shred of danger, and soon enough, it was archers that Commander Torn was forced to resort to.
