The cloak he was wearing had definitely been soaked – he could tell by how heavier it'd grown – but it was thick enough for Coster himself to have been kept quite dry throughout the walk. Only his boots had grown slightly muddy. The road was dark, with the rain pouring down, the clouds blocking the sky, and no lamps to be seen outside. Only a few windows let some light pour out onto the streets, but there were few of those.
And now, before him, stood the entrance to the lower Hold. He only knew what it looked like because of a random encounter with a merchant in Falkrealth. A large rectangle of stone with a gate in the center, five men tall, built on the face of the mountain. Two Dovah-Brod banners on either side, and a large carving depicting Dovah-Brod warriors battling an indistinct foe. They were winning… of course.
Must be it… what else?
The large gate that stood before him seemed impenetrable. Probably was, too. There did seem to be other ways in, however. Towers – jutting from the face of the mountain they were built on – a small distance to the right and left of the gate. He could see there was no door on them; only arrowslits, and a large window on their top floor. The towers must be accessed from the inside via some route, which means I can access the inside via them. The arrowslits where too small to crawl inside of, obviously, but the high-up windows were accessible.
After a small amount of time spent scanning each tower, he concluded that the left tower was a lost cause, but he did formulate a plan for the one on the right. Turning around, he went back down the street and turned left in a narrow alleyway. Hoping no one could see him there, he stacked some crates he found on top another. Climbing atop his risky, slippery scaffolding, he boosted himself up. He could not quite reach the roof of the building he was going for from here, but the walls of the adjacent one were close enough for him to ascend with a foot and a hand on each of the two buildings' walls.
Once he did reach the roof, he pulled himself up, but chose to remain in a crouched stance. He was conspicuous enough walking in the streets at this time, he'd be conspicuous enough on a roof at any time. He didn't need to be seen on a roof, at this time. Crawling along the slippery tiles, he reached the ridge of the roof, and peaked over. Across a six or so feet gap after the edge of the roof was the right tower. The window was not quite at this height, but it was less than eight feet higher, and therefore quite manageable.
Trying to forget about the consequences of being found, he climbed over the roof's ridge and slowly slid down the tiles. Reaching the edge, he jumped off.
His heart stood still. Aiming with both his hands for an arrow slit, he took hold of it as he hit the side of the tower with a thud; once his legs found purchase and once he made sure his grip on the slit was firm, he thought: good… and now, to breath. He started the slow climb, using the slits of the tower and whatever other purchase he found in protruding bricks. Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad, he thought as he looked down. He'd never survive the drop, but he managed to shake off that thought as well.
Once he reached the window, he placed both hands on the sill, and pulled himself up and through. He fell on the floor with a crash, and had to pull his cloak, which had caught on the window. Phew… Taking a few large breaths and feeling the blood once more flow through his body normally, he started getting up. Taking a look at his surroundings, he noticed he was in a candlelit room, with some arrow quivers on the right and bows on th-… there was a guard sitting on a chair in the far right corner. Coster froze in place.
…Is he asleep?
The man was wearing an enclosed helmet, so Coster could not tell whether or not his eyes were open; but he was completely still, and his body seemed to be fully relaxed. Coster felt cold sweat course its way down the side of his face. Crouching once more and crawling on all fours, he slowly made his way towards the door located in the far left corner of the room. The guard did not seem to notice him, thanks the divines… he is asleep.
His blood was drained, and its desperation took its place – flooding his entire body – when the door opened and a female guard stepped in. Coster quickly dropped flat on the floor and slowly crept to the left, where the room was ever so slightly darker.
"Denvis… Denvis!" The newcomer said. She'd entered through the left wall and was facing towards the guard that sat in the right of the room, which meant she didn't see Coster. "Wake up!"
The guard, apparently a male named Denvis, awoke at that moment.
"Aye? I, argh… What is it?" The guard almost fell from his seat as he said that, and then reached beneath his chair, producing a bottle of ale. He looked half-asleep.
"Are you drunk? Nevermind. I think I saw somebody whilst I was downstairs, outside –through the arrow slit – so I thought I… what is it? What are you looki-" Damn.
Coster got up in a flash and dashed across the room. Within four paces he was on top of the woman, throwing her crashing against the stone wall. His next action was to close the door, which she'd left open, and – after having done that – he threw himself on top of the now dazed guard once more. Feeling the heat through his body as the adrenaline build up, he pinned her down, removed her scale helmet, and bashed her head with it before she could make too much noise. After some hits, and after he saw she was near unconsciousness, eyes failing to meet him and head swaying randomly, he reached for the shiv in his boots.
Leaving her throat bloody, he got up and looked towards the other guard. He was sitting on the floor by his chair, obviously having fallen off it, with a hand raised in the air as if in plea of mercy. He was completely silent save for a quiet sob, and his helmeted head was looking away. He approached him, and found his chest to be unarmored.
"Please…" He whispered between sobs.
Coster aimed for his heart, pierced his flesh and twisted the shiv. Having done that, he continued, stabbing his throat, hoping he might die ever so slightly faster.
Exiting the room, and closing the door behind him after he moved the corpses to a corner and snuffed out the candle, he snuck down the corridor and started descending once he found a stairwell, thankfully finding no one along the way.