"I don't think the basilisk are at the top of the walls my friend" says Thurston in low voice, for once. " But we must be wary for we can encounter one inside." 
He turns to Jex.

"Want me to throw that thing?" he asks to his friend.

Vark’s eyes look ready to pop from his head as Jex snags him from the brink of ruining their cover. He hastily shakes his head in assent before being released to run the rest of the way up to the fortress.

He looks on as Jex begins preparing for a climb, then glances anxiously back to the towers they’d passed and the sentries prowling there. “Wait, what if... wanna go flying again?” There’s a mischievous glint in Vark’s eyes as he channels the winds around himself and Jex and the pair begin to feel weightless. “You can take out anyone that’s up there, and I’ll cover you, and Aiden can help again?” The last part is a question to which the cleric gives a dutiful nod. “Ok. Once it’s clear we can get everyone else up.” With Aiden’s assistance Vark and Jex go rocketing up and over the wall, ready to move quickly to eliminate whoever might be up there.

With the rope in his hand Thurston looks to the pair flying away.

"Well that was just showing off... even in the middle of the fog..." 

Jex grins as Vark offers to fly him up the wall, standing down immediately ready to go, almost as if he'd expected this all along. Once they are up level with the wall though, he grits his teeth, grabbing the edge of the fortification so that they don't rise above it and become immediately visible.

"-something unnatural about this fog," Jex hears a deep voice rumble as they reach the top of the parapet. It sounds nearby, though off to the right and not directly above them. "It's set in too fast. Keep your eyes and ears open."

Motioning to Vark for caution, Jex carefully peeps over the edge, dagger in hand ready to strike, but for now attempting to remain hidden.

Vark follows Jex’s lead, hanging in the air just below the edge of the parapet. On hand holds Pathmaker low, the other steadies him against the stone.

The battlement is bathed in pale moonlight, but Jex's Elven eyes see clear as day. An armoured and powerfully built dragonborn is marching away from two more ordinary looking sentries. The watchmen wear chain shirts and metal helmets, but everything in between is girded in leather. They carry crossbows and mismatched melee weapons. Polearms are leant upright in a nearby wooden stand.

Indicating to Vark which Watchman they should each take, Jex springs over the battlement, trying to use the flight to pull off an acrobatic flying summersault corkscrew kick and stab. He instantly regrets trying to show off though as he isn't used to the weightlessness and he moves nowhere near as quickly as planned, the move more resembling synchronised swimming than the martial arts dance he intended. His blade barely comes down, slashing at the back of the man's cloak as his friend is just saying something, "Hey, Walton...", And Jex's blade slashes down where his neck had been before he shifted to give attention to his name. It catches his back instead, digging deep bit Jex can instantly sense trouble, this is not lethal, but it is going to be very painful. Jex winces as sure enough the guard's crossbow clatters to the floor, echoing along the battlements. He reaches out instinctively to try to catch his mouth and nose and try to force the knife a little deeper, releasing the air from his lungs beneath.

The sound of a weapon clattering against stone makes Aiden wince as it echoes across the mountain. He begins murmuring a few words under his breath. The low whispering gains bass and gravitas as thunder begins to roll through the area surrounding the fortress. 

"That should give them some nice sound cover," Aiden says quietly. 

Vark's intention is subtlety, but the storm sorcerer has never been known for a delicate touch. The fog, the thunder, the winds swirling around him: the storm he hasn’t even noticed building begins to sweep him up. The gale he summons is not a shove but a concussive blast that sends the sentry sailing off the parapet with a shriek. Blue lightning crackles down his arms and Vark looks down in awe, not having seen this aspect of his magic in weeks. He had so readily accepted the fact that his very being was stained a permanent shade of crimson red. He turns back to Jex as the assassin attempts to finish off his target. “Uhm... slight change of plans?” Thunder crashes behind him as the sky opens up to unleash a torrent of rain upon the fort. 

Jex twists the knife in the back of Walton, and he feels his mouth go limp against his hand. He pulls off his helmet and cloak and kicks the rest of the body forward off the battlements. Placing the helmet and cloak on himself he smiles.

"These things rarely go smoothly. We should drop a rope though so the others can join us if necessary, then clear the rest of the battlements." He takes the grappling hook and rope and secures it to the wall before letting the rope uncurl.

Val waits beneath, listening intently as the storm begins to suddenly rage around them with far more intensity than she had anticipated; however, regardless of its strength she had grown up in storms like this all her life. So when the coil of rope fell suddenly at her feet, she loops Rook over her shoulders with the leather strap and slaps Thurston on the shoulder before expertly scaling the rope without even a second thought. It was easy for her, things like these always were and within a few moments of the wind and thunder roaring all around her, she pulls herself up onto the wall with a glance at Jex, leaning in close to whisper. "A bit much, this isn't it?"

Smiling at Val's and enjoying the sound of Thunder and the rain over him, Thurston gives the rope to Aiden and readies himself to follow after his friend. 

Jex nods. "Hides the noise though. Stay low and quiet and wait for us to get seen." He darts off along the wall, beckoning Vark to follow. He looks down judging the distance to the next sentry carefully.

The climbing was harder that Thurston had expected. The walls of the keep are smooth and the rain made them slippery and treacherous. The wind blew around the Norscan and the thunder masked the sound of its bulky body hitting the wall when he loosed his grip. He looked up to the ski, letting the rain fall on his head and clear his mind. Forgetting for a moment the strain on his arms and shoulders he remembered one of the trials to be  accepted as a member of Thor's chosens. He had to climb one of the cliffside that loomed over his home, while a storm was raging. No rope, no aid, just he against the rock and rain. He refrained himself to laugh. That time he was only wearing his leather trousers, not all the equipment and the armor that he was wearing that time. Tonight it was rougher.
"So you test me again Thor. I will not fail you" he said pushing harder and twisting the rope between his legs and begin to climb up until he reached the top of the wall. 
He looked for his friends and for any potential enemy with Rikkazarik ready on his hand.

Aiden climbs to the top of the wall just in time to hear Jex's instructions. He gets low and waits for the inevitable shouts of alarm.

The next sentries atop the battlement are holding position on the north-western corner of the keep's walls, trying to find whatever meagre shelter they can from the sudden weather. Down below, Jex can make out several guards flanking doors into the keep itself. The armoured dragonborn is striding across the yard towards the eastern tower.

Considering the options, Jex hesitates, he makes to move along the wall towards the next guard's but glancing over his shoulder and seeing the hulking figures of his companions and knowing how they are not known for their patience he heeds the shake of the head from Vark and turns back. Pulling the familiar tools from his belt he listens at the door to the tower.

Bründir scrambled up the rope last, winded as he rolled himself over the battlements and flopping to the catwalk with a crash. For a moment, he appeared the image of a scrap heap draped over a marionette hobbling to life. Huffing at the climb, he looked around to the others, "Next time we storm a castle, I'm gettin' a few dozen o' th' best men dwarves can find, an' we're going straight through the damned front door!"

The dwarf draws his blade and shield, peering over the relatively not-so-low wall into the courtyard below. Jex's absence strikes him as a bit rushed, "Sneaky ol' Jex," he notes with a smile, "Always takin' th' fun fer himself. Well, he an' Vark can 'ave th' walls, how 'bout we go 'ave a scrap down th' low road?"