The chill of the mountain air bit at Ronon's skin as he and his companions edged closer to the looming fortress ahead. Hidden deep within the craggy peaks, this stronghold was key to the Circle of Shadows' plans. Every step felt like a gamble with death, but they had no choice. They had come too far to turn back.
"The entrance should be just ahead," Kellan whispered, eyes scanning the rocky terrain. "This is where their scouts usually patrol."
Ronon's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "We can't afford to get caught. If they know we're coming, it's over."
Jorin crouched beside him, his face grim. "It's already a trap, Ronon. The Circle's banking on us taking the bait."
"They think they can draw us in," Ronon said quietly, his jaw clenched. "But this time, we're turning the tables."
The Circle had played their hand, luring them here with whispers of a strategic advantage. But Ronon knew better. This wasn't just a random fortress. It was the center of the Circle's latest plot to cripple the kingdom from within. If they could dismantle its operations, they could cripple the Circle's momentum, if only for a time.
Crouching low behind a cluster of boulders, Ronon signaled for the group to stop. Ahead, two armored figures moved in the shadows, scouts on patrol. The moonlight reflected off their dark armor, casting ominous shadows along the rocky path.
"There," Kellan muttered. "Two of them. If they see us, they'll raise the alarm."
Ronon scanned the terrain. The path forward was narrow, with little room to maneuver. They couldn't afford to get bogged down in a fight this close to the stronghold.
"We'll take them quietly," he said. "Jorin, you take the one on the left. Kellan, back me up on the right. No noise."
Jorin nodded, his face set with determination. They moved swiftly and silently, shadows against the rocks. As they approached the unsuspecting scouts, Ronon's pulse quickened. He could feel the tension in the air, the calm before the storm. He raised his blade, heart steady, and with one swift motion, he struck.
The scout fell with a quiet gasp, his body slumping to the ground. At the same time, Jorin dispatched the other, their movement smooth and synchronized. The bodies were hidden quickly, leaving no trace of their presence.
"Clear," Kellan whispered, eyes sharp as he scanned the horizon.
Ronon sheathed his sword, heart pounding in his chest. Every step they took brought them closer to the heart of the Circle's power. The thought of what lay ahead weighed heavily on him, but he couldn't afford to show doubt. Not now.
"We move fast," Ronon said, his voice low. "Once we're inside, we find the leaders and disrupt their plans. This fortress is a nerve center—cut it off, and we buy ourselves time."
Kellan frowned, his brow furrowing in concern. "We still don't know the full extent of their defenses."
"Whatever they have, we'll deal with it when it comes," Ronon replied firmly. "They won't expect us to strike at the heart."
The fortress loomed closer, its walls carved into the jagged mountainside. Dark banners bearing the Circle's emblem fluttered in the wind, a constant reminder of the enemy they faced.
As they approached the gates, Ronon could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. This was no ordinary battle. This was a strike against the Circle's very core. But even as doubt gnawed at the edges of his resolve, Ronon knew they couldn't turn back. Not now.
"We end this tonight," he murmured under his breath, more to himself than to the others.
Together, they moved forward into the shadow of the fortress, ready to face whatever the Circle had in store for them.