A light shadow moved along within the shadows cast by the full moonâ€™s light.  Leaning against a willow tree as he looked at the towering  outer walls of Castle Sundermont.  Looking at the distance between him and the base of the wall, the man just considered it. He would have no trouble moving across the ground unnoticed. Looking up at the sky, he watched as the clouds move around in the sky, until one moved  infront of the moon for a moment, casting the grounds in utter darkness. By the time the cloud had moved, the figure was gone.<br/><br/>His name was Azreal  Sonrith, though few knew his real name. Most who did were somewhere in the afterlife.  To anyone who saw him on the street, he would appear as nothing special. He stood at an average five feet eight inches, with black hair and dark blue eyes. He has an athletic, but otherwise small frame, though he was well in shape. The only noticeable feature about him really was a scar that ran from his right cheek down below his jaw.<br/><br/>Right now though, anyone who did manage to see him, would find it interesting to note that no matter fast he ran, or how the wind blew around him, Azâ€™s void black cloak never fluttered in the slightest.<br/><br/>Making his way along up the outer wall easily enough, he kept an eye on the sentries as they moved between the battlments in a routine movement. It was clear from their movement they had become far to used to their routine movements. Their shoulders were slacked, their heads were downcast,  their weapons held loosely, and their movements quick an impatient. â€œSome royal guard.â€ Azreal muttered to himself, before he closed the gap between the top of the outer wall and the base of the inner. Now came the tricky part. Scaling the walls unnoticed without a spotter.  All the same, Az drew a pair of daggers out from hidden folds in the lining of his cloak, before he thrust them forward, stabbing them between the stone into the weakened mortar.