((This is a re-do/continuation of a previous RP, so the beginning is slightly abrupt.)) - Laurelle looked around the room at the unconscious guards. One of them was slumped against the wall, both legs bent at odd angles. Another lay facedown where he landed after being thrown into the air. With Skye's help, she and Demi had downed a total of four. They stood in the grand hallway preceding the "throne room" of this keep. She had been traveling with Demi, whom she had known for a few months now since she had run into her while on a heist in Estillia. The pair were making their way across the Fragments to reach Magus' Tower, but they had come to a mountain pass blocked by this fortress. With no other way around, they had broken through the gates and decided to go through it. What they found had been a girl in silver armor blasting her way through the foyer of guards with wind magic. Opting to help, they had learned that she was an Estillian knight who had been betrayed and then captured by this warlord, Keyer. She had introduced herself as Skye. The group had made their way to the back of the keep but found the gate locked and magically warded. Interrogating a guard had revealed that it was Keyer himself who had cast the spell, so he had become their target. Now he was just beyond the double doors that lay before them. "Let's not keep Keyer waiting." Skye said, jogging toward the doors. She tried to push one open, but it wouldn't budge. "They barred it." She observed. "Not a problem." She stepped back and spoke a slightly longer incantation. The doors in front of her practically exploded inward with a crack of magic and a rush of wind. Splinters flew and scattered about the room, all that remained of the ornate double doorway. The throne room was practically a wide hallway, strewn with black carpets and with a myriad of weapons hanging on the bare gray stone walls. Across the way was a harshly plain oversized gray chair. In it sat a man wearing an old suit of chainmail that looked far worse for wear. He wore a full helmet that covered his face. Leaning on either side of the throne were a hand-axe and a shield, neither very notable. Two last guards stood in front of the warlord, wearing heavier armor than their counterparts earlier and carrying greatswords. They stepped aside as Keyer stood, taking up his arms. "You're more trouble than your worth." The warlord said. "I should never have accepted that fool knight's deal." His tone was angry, although Laurelle could not see his face through his helmet. "But if you surrender now, I'll still let you live--if you survive until my ransom arrives." He laughed. "Fuck off." Skye said bluntly. It wasn't a phrase usually uttered by Estillian knights. She spoke a single word and the entire enemy party went flying in various directions, the carpets of the room being thrown into the air with them. Keyer yelled a spell that righted himself and his lackeys, allowing them to gently fall to the ground. Laughing again, he ordered his henchmen forward. Both of them cast spells as they charged, surrounding themselves with a flickering oval of pale light; likely a protective spell.