Hello! An action-packed start for all. I'm definitely an amateur in action sequences, and this deviates a little from the original shots from the movie, but heck, its been 3 months since I watched the entire thing. More of a filler.
TWACK! The arrow bounced off the wall, and Dastan swiftly removed his hand, in the nick of time. He rolled his eyes at Babar, who peaked through moonlight bushes, and made an apologetic sign at him.
That was a close shave, Dastan thought, climbing up the remaining arrows. Reaching the top, he peered through the small pillars.
"Hey-"the guard yelled, muffled before he was smashed into the walls, and Dastan jumped onto the roof.
Alamut was quite the city of chances, Dastan thought, signalling his troops to come forward; he had never encountered a kingdom so relaxed in its defences. There were hardly any guards patrolling the eastern gate.
The group scaled up the wall quickly, with the ease of many years practice, as Dastan pulled them in. They jumped in and huddled over, drawing their swords, ready. Bis, his loyal friend through the ages, looked out into the distance, observing the huge iron gates.
That's our way in," Bis observed, while Dastan rolled his rope, "There are two gates, though the outer one is easy. " His voice held a little doubt though. The soldiers looked out, gazing the pulley contraption, on top of the gate, "The mechanism, there are two guards, in the tower."
Dastan nodded, his mind already forming a plan on breaching into the city. The men grunted in agreement. The city had complex systems, and machinery which they rarely encountered.
"The inner gate, it is said to be impossible to break through." Bis said.
Dastan chuckled, and his friend looked at him, questioning his sanity. Dastan shook his head, while sheathing his sword. "Bis, there is always a way in. You take the men to the outer gate, and leave the impossible one to me."
Bis shook his head in resignation, and whispered the command to the troops."You won't be happy until you have us all killed Dastan."
"Oh, wonderful speech Bis" Dastan said sarcastically, "Rousing". Oh, trust Bis, the mighty Bis, Dastan thought, to know battle schemes. He was similar in that aspect to his brothers, both who were unwilling to change old tactics, not even for a siege.
A new sun was creeping up the horizon, spreading its fierce orange streaks. The moonlight had waned. Then, dawn broke, and Dastan knew he had to get going.
He moved forward with the group, looking out into the distance. There was the guard, circling in a tower. Dastan motioned his man, and he fired the arrow at him. It struck! A shrivelled cry was heard as the guard fell dead.
"Sound the alarm!" a voice in the distance was heard. They had been spotted.
"Oh, praise the Creator!" Bis cried out.
"Well," Dastan replied, "the element of surprise could only last so long."
Thwang! A string of arrows were launched, and one of his own men fell. Dastan cursed.
"Go!" he urged, and Bis marched off, with the troops, first cry of battle was heard, and the fighting ensured.
He knew however, he needed to breach the inner gate. Two guards stood in front him, holding strangely carved swords, identical expressions of shock.
"Seize him!" one cried, and they rushed forth. But he was too quick, and jumped at the guards, looping their wrist together with his rope.
"Here, hold this, "he thrust a cord into their hands and smirked, taking in their confounded expressions. Hastily, he ran over the balcony, swinging off the rope down to the storey below. Dastan jumped off, crashing into a new set of amazed Alamutian guards.
"You-Persian!" the clean shaven one spluttered, and they both held up their bows. He fended them off with ease. Running along, and jumping through the walls, they were all driven through.
Once they were all knocked down, Dastan looked around furtively, before rushing forth, and began to turn the wheel. The gate opened with ease he had not expected, and he cried out in triumph.
The walls of Alamut had been breached, after a millennium. He signalled to his men and saw Bis receive it, riding off into the night. His brothers would know of their success.
A sudden guard appeared, his entire countenance seething, and only in time did Dastan duck out of the way.
He let go of the wheel, pushing the soldier into in at the same time.
"Aarugh!" he screeched, and there was a sickening crunch as his spine was crushed.
"Oh curse the gods," he uttered, looking to the ground. The Alamutian troops were marching onward. His own troop would not survive.
He had to block the entrance, Dastan thought fast, as he fended off the Alamutian soldiers. His brothers would not be here in time. Their sword techniques, he thought as they clashed, were different, but terribly simple.
"There," Dastan grunted, and drove his sword through his last opponent. Then, grabbing a rope off , he tied a intricate Persian knot onto the weight lever . Oh, he had to move fast! He scampered up, walking to the very end of the ledge.
Dastan couldn't help but gasp. The whole of Alamut, he could see. It was truly breathtaking. He almost regretted the bloodshed. But they were enemies. He cleared his head. If he did this, Persia would be triumphant.
Taking in a deep breath, Dastan muttered to himself "Here we go."
And he swung himself down, propelling sideways into the building, swinging across; he threw the match into the bell tower, vibrating through the city. Ahh, there was the rope, containing all that would make a difference. Drawing out his sword, he slashed at it, with all the speed the Creator would grant him.
BOOM! The ground thundered as the persians marched, in their thousands. They had arrived!
"Yes!" Dastan cried, as the rope cut, unleashing a rain of oil. He grabbed off a burning torch, and swung off his rope once more. Thrusting down, and threw it into the oil, pouring down.
A passage of fire was formed, and the Alamutian soldiers were effectively blocked, by the passage of fire.
Dastan swung off the rope, landing on the ground with grace befitting one who scrambled along walls since childhood. He took his swords out once more, face glorious, and walked off.
Broad daylight now filled the palace courtyard, as the Persian soldiers strived forth, ruthless in their destruction of all Alamutians, now battling to their very deaths.
His job, he knew, was to make sure no one escaped, such as the fabled princess of Alamut. The only way of flight would be through the gates. Before he had time to process his time, he heard hooves, dangerously close.
"Aargh!" a man lunged, his face filled with wrath, and only instinct made Dastan back out of the way, long spear appearing into full sight. Then a man, clad in silk riding past, clutching a bundle.
"Oh no, you don't, "Dastan muttered, and ran towards the wall. Bracing himself, he sprinted across the wall of the tunnel, crashing onto the horse. It neighed and stopped, lifting its hooves perilously high, knocking both of them off.
"You filthy Persian!" the man spat, standing tall and drawing out a sword.
Dastan shrugged, replying as they circled in other, "Says noble Alamut, trading secret weapons to the enemies of my empire."
"We have no weapons, "the man hissed and drew forth his sword, while clutching the bundle to the side. Without warning, he stroke forth at Dastan, who cursed, as he blocked at his oncoming moves.
He was skilled, Dastan thought, as they gasped and grunted, each delivering the death blow. But he was no match for Dastan, though he was strong and tall.
"Hah!" Dastan yelled, knocking the bundle off the man's arms. The Alamutian warrior stood for a moment in shock, but recovered himself. He shoved forth; ready to drive his sword into is enemy.
But Dastan was fast, and backed towards the bundle. Whatever was in there, it was important to the man, and he would let lower his defences near it.
But Dastan could not have predicted its true consequence. His opponent's eyes widened in fear, as Dastan approached the fallen bundle, and wildly he abandoned any posture of defence.
He hesitated not, and plunged his sword into the man, whose sudden shriek was silenced, and he lay dead.
Dastan heaved, relieved. His opponent had been formidable. It was clear he was of some importance in the court of Alamut, his clothes in the least proved it. He bent forward, looking at the bundle. It spread out now, over Alamutian desert. Across, there lay the weapon it concealed.
"What in the world..." he trailed off. It was a dagger. Dastan bent, picking it up. Engraved in were minuscule jewels of every sort, the biggest of which was a ruby on the handle.
It seemed more ornamental that that of a weapon. Scripture in a language foreign was carved, into its blade, itself made of a strange metal he had yet to encounter.
But what was fascinating was the handle. Through its transparent glass, glass of a remarkable toughness, swirled sands.
"It isn't a very sharp one, for sure," Dastan murmured mindlessly. What was the significance of this, to drive a man out, through certain doom, protecting it?
He tucked it into his belt, and got up. It was then Dastan noticed that the fighting had stopped, and saw his Persian troops herding the Alamutians into their own palace, defeated. A shell was blown, the signal of victory. And in this case, Dastan thought, it was clear who the champion was.
He had better make his way to the palace.
A/N : that was hard stuff writing. I'm sure it was more fun watching it. Don't worry, next chap will keep the plot moving. Please do review, I'm sure all of you here know how wonderful it is to get back some feedback, of even a teensy message is totally fine. I need all the support I can get to keep this going.=D
OH, and if you can point out typos and such, please do.=)