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"Typical," Halvor muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"I'm still with you, Captain," Halvor spoke up as he took a step forward. "If only as a 'fuck you' to the Arch-Mage. But I've got nowhere else to go anyway.

"And I've followed worse commanders," he added with a shrug and a smirk.

Nidesis was indeed one of the better captains Halvor's had, and, though ignorant at times, he didn't seem to be intentionally condescending towards him for being a Nord. Also compared to many of the captains he's had, Nidesis was a bit reckless and naive, so Halvor didn't want to outright tell him he liked him and have it go to his head. But he's still young and unsullied by life, not beaten down and apathetic as Halvor had grown over the years. Besides, with the last mission, he got screwed over the same as Halvor. So with the uncertainty of outright quitting the Order, following Nidesis in this "Secret Order" seemed to be the better option. And if following him helped prevent Nidesis from growing hopeless like Halvor or arrogant and corrupt like the Arch-Mage, then even better.

Mundzac sighed, muttering to himself, "Course, blame the soldier for followin' his fokin' orders". He shook his head but after adjusting his position in the saddle declared. "Aye' I'll join yer Secret Order or what'ever its its called, might as well have someone who understands the common people, and can ride a horse better than anyone here."

Rhys weighed his options. If it meant better pay or loyalty from his comrades, this “Secret Order” business was alright with him.
“Very well. Consider me a part of this endeavor.”

With three willing followers, Nidesis felt emboldened when the orders were finally given: They were to ride to Terris, de facto capital of the Aldors and the last tower city which was built into the ground. Rumors of a monstrous army living within the abandoned undercity had disturbed Loklin. Nidesis, however, questioned why a secret detachment was necessary. There was something he wasn't being told, he knew that much...

The roads were growing muddy and wet as the winter pressed on, amplifying with the chilly air to create a miserable situation indeed. While the feast at Rendalis had come during the harvest, now most of the fields were barren, with only the seedlings of the winter cereals germinating within the earth. City after city was passed, and the party only stopped at inns when they had to. Eventually, however, a great storm of freezing rain approached, which forced them off the road and into a neighboring city, a massive settlement known as Raxol, ruled by Archon Garrin Phixidor, the name of whom created a strange reaction in Rhys when uttered. The party lodged in a large tavern, and learned that the storm was expected to continue for several days. It became clear they could either wait out the storm in the city, or try to find an extremely powerful mage within the central tower who could clear it. The latter was easier said than done, however, as the mana required certainly wouldn't be expended out of charity...

-snip-

With three willing followers, Nidesis felt emboldened when the orders were finally given: They were to ride to Terris, de facto capital of the Aldors and the last tower city which was built into the ground. Rumors of a monstrous army living within the abandoned undercity had disturbed Loklin. Nidesis, however, questioned why a secret detachment was necessary. There was something he wasn't being told, he knew that much...

The roads were growing muddy and wet as the winter pressed on, amplifying with the chilly air to create a miserable situation indeed. While the feast at Rendalis had come during the harvest, now most of the fields were barren, with only the seedlings of the winter cereals germinating within the earth. City after city was passed, and the party only stopped at inns when they had to. Eventually, however, a great storm of freezing rain approached, which forced them off the road and into a neighboring city, a massive settlement known as Raxol, ruled by Archon Garrin Phixidor, the name of whom created a strange reaction in Rhys when uttered. The party lodged in a large tavern, and learned that the storm was expected to continue for several days. It became clear they could either wait out the storm in the city, or try to find an extremely powerful mage within the central tower who could clear it. The latter was easier said than done, however, as the mana required certainly wouldn't be expended out of charity...

As Rhys strolled on horseback into the city with the rest of his ridiculous little lance, he very seriously considered murdering Nidesis and vanishing into the rains. However, he calmed himself after a moment and decided to talk to his team as they stood in the threshold of the city walls.
“I can not be seen in this city,” Rhys explained, his tone implying that it was due to a past crime of his, not intrigue. “We cannot speak to the Archon of this city or any other major mage. Asking them to lift the storm is not an option for us. Either we wait it out like humans, or I can try myself, with the proper magical tools and some tomes on meteorology...”

Mudnzac didn't much mind the rain, and neither did his steed, which was of sturdier stock than the fancy dress horses everyone else was riding. He recoiled when Rhys made his statement. "Oi! You got a problem with humans and how we deal with weather? We cant all be fancy mage lads eh?"

-snip-

With three willing followers, Nidesis felt emboldened when the orders were finally given: They were to ride to Terris, de facto capital of the Aldors and the last tower city which was built into the ground. Rumors of a monstrous army living within the abandoned undercity had disturbed Loklin. Nidesis, however, questioned why a secret detachment was necessary. There was something he wasn't being told, he knew that much...

The roads were growing muddy and wet as the winter pressed on, amplifying with the chilly air to create a miserable situation indeed. While the feast at Rendalis had come during the harvest, now most of the fields were barren, with only the seedlings of the winter cereals germinating within the earth. City after city was passed, and the party only stopped at inns when they had to. Eventually, however, a great storm of freezing rain approached, which forced them off the road and into a neighboring city, a massive settlement known as Raxol, ruled by Archon Garrin Phixidor, the name of whom created a strange reaction in Rhys when uttered. The party lodged in a large tavern, and learned that the storm was expected to continue for several days. It became clear they could either wait out the storm in the city, or try to find an extremely powerful mage within the central tower who could clear it. The latter was easier said than done, however, as the mana required certainly wouldn't be expended out of charity...

As Rhys strolled on horseback into the city with the rest of his ridiculous little lance, he very seriously considered murdering Nidesis and vanishing into the rains. However, he calmed himself after a moment and decided to talk to his team as they stood in the threshold of the city walls.
“I can not be seen in this city,” Rhys explained, his tone implying that it was due to a past crime of his, not intrigue. “We cannot speak to the Archon of this city or any other major mage. Asking them to lift the storm is not an option for us. Either we wait it out like humans, or I can try myself, with the proper magical tools and some tomes on meteorology...”

"We can't just be stuck here!" Nidesis was hardly patient, even after all the days on the road ought to have curbed his enthusiasm. "Agh! So our options now are either to try and make it through the roads that have been turned near to liquid mud by all this rain or we can try to convince the people that don't even want us in their city to loan us priceless magical instruments and tomes."

Mudnzac didn't much mind the rain, and neither did his steed, which was of sturdier stock than the fancy dress horses everyone else was riding. He recoiled when Rhys made his statement. "Oi! You got a problem with humans and how we deal with weather? We cant all be fancy mage lads eh?"

"It's a difficult task even for the most highborn of Elven mages, but we really don't have much choice. I'd much prefer not to wait here, especially now that it's been made clear our companion isn't exactly well liked by the authorities. The longer we linger the more questions will be asked about the band of armed men in the tavern outside the city walls, after all. If anyone has any better ideas I'd like to hear them."

"It's a difficult task even for the most highborn of Elven mages, but we really don't have much choice. I'd much prefer not to wait here, especially now that it's been made clear our companion isn't exactly well liked by the authorities. The longer we linger the more questions will be asked about the band of armed men in the tavern outside the city walls, after all. If anyone has any better ideas I'd like to hear them."

Mundzac shrugged. "Money will usually get you safe passage, or lodging in this case. Not even the most loyal guards are impervious to bribes as it were. Plus, if you are willing to give up your fancy dress clothes, and let me do the talking, I can help us pass of as commoners, hell even the nord." He said to the captain, which, considering his normal appearance, seemed like he knew how to blend in with commoners.

"Heh," Halvor chuckled. "Good luck tryin' to keep me from stickin' out. But I'll go along with it. And if we need to get by someone, I've got a couple things in here," he patted his alchemical satchel, "that should put them to sleep. And I've got this here," he said patting his axe, "to help persuade anyone to do what we say."

Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing.

Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing.

"Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor.  A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."

-snip-

Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing.

"Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor.  A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."

Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”
Rhys lifted his mask up, revealing his gaunt pale face and the large wine-colored scar which had been concealed. The wound was a nasty one, covering a blue eye and most of his face. After a pause for dramatic effect, he continued.
“There you have it, companions. The face of the Masked Mage. I am afraid my natural visage is no less conspicuous than my artificial one.”

Rhys returned the mask to his face. “This wound of mine was also inflicted by a blade that belonged to one of this city’s guardsmen, and I doubt the leadership has forgotten me or my face, scarred or fresh. It may serve to draw even more suspicion than the mask would...”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Therefore, I must issue an ultimatum: the mask stays, or I depart.”

-snip-

Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing.

"Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor.  A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."

Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”
Rhys lifted his mask up, revealing his gaunt pale face and the large wine-colored scar which had been concealed. The wound was a nasty one, covering a blue eye and most of his face. After a pause for dramatic effect, he continued.
“There you have it, companions. The face of the Masked Mage. I am afraid my natural visage is no less conspicuous than my artificial one.”

Rhys returned the mask to his face. “This wound of mine was also inflicted by a blade that belonged to one of this city’s guardsmen, and I doubt the leadership has forgotten me or my face, scarred or fresh. It may serve to draw even more suspicion than the mask would...”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Therefore, I must issue an ultimatum: the mask stays, or I depart.”

"Gah! What can we do then?" Nidesis paced a bit before realizing that he was looking at the situation in the completely wrong manner.
"Wait..." Nidesis spoke to Rhys, "If you're an outlaw in this city, you found a way to escape, yes? Tell me, whatever route you took...could we use it to get back in?"
With any luck, Rhys would know of a way to sneak in to the inner ring, and from there they could steal the required materials to clear the storm, or even teleport closer to their destination.

-snip-

-snip-

Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing.

"Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor.  A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."

Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”
Rhys lifted his mask up, revealing his gaunt pale face and the large wine-colored scar which had been concealed. The wound was a nasty one, covering a blue eye and most of his face. After a pause for dramatic effect, he continued.
“There you have it, companions. The face of the Masked Mage. I am afraid my natural visage is no less conspicuous than my artificial one.”

Rhys returned the mask to his face. “This wound of mine was also inflicted by a blade that belonged to one of this city’s guardsmen, and I doubt the leadership has forgotten me or my face, scarred or fresh. It may serve to draw even more suspicion than the mask would...”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Therefore, I must issue an ultimatum: the mask stays, or I depart.”

"Gah! What can we do then?" Nidesis paced a bit before realizing that he was looking at the situation in the completely wrong manner.
"Wait..." Nidesis spoke to Rhys, "If you're an outlaw in this city, you found a way to escape, yes? Tell me, whatever route you took...could we use it to get back in?"
With any luck, Rhys would know of a way to sneak in to the inner ring, and from there they could steal the required materials to clear the storm, or even teleport closer to their destination.

Rhys thought for a moment. “The sewers are enchanted to harm anyone who falls in, but I could probably cast wards that would shield us from the worst of it. There are public stations we can emerge from, or if you wanted to go straight for the Citadel we could do that as well.”

-snip-

-snip-

Mundzac shook his head "Aye, ya might catch a few odd looks and have some, well, less than pleasant slurs thrown towards ya, but truth be told it won't be hard to get you in. Your people are known for being damned good navigators, and so a bunch of "poor traveling sellswords like us? A nord comes in plenty handy. That's how I can explain it anyway. So, cap'n and Rhys, you willing to mingle with the common folk for a little while? maybe wear a more, commoner robe? It'll save us our wits, and might even get us some real fockin food. Only thing ya need to do is hide your face and maybe even yer pointy ears for a bit, too much to handle?" He asked with a light sneer at the two, as he found their pompousness, amusing.

"Twins, is some nice mail armor really considered dress clothing to you humans? I'm not wearing anything out of the ordinary for an Elven blade for hire. Rhys on the other hand, has that fancy mask of his. If we really want to blend in as commoners we'll have to ditch our armor and the weapons we can't conceal entirely. Things are different here than in the Nord or human lands. Elven peasants can't afford to waste what little money they have on a nice weapon or a suit of armor.  A gang of armed men breaking into the tower and holding a knife to some noble's throat isn't a good idea at all. We might be able to prance about the lower ring like this but not in the place we need to get to.We'll need some actual dress clothes if we want to enter the inner ring..."
Pacing about, and pondering the situation, Nidesis spotted a cart lying derelict on the muddy road. "Maybe...we can put our possessions into that cart and get into some street clothes. We pass through the gate and find a place to regroup, from there we can find out what the situation is like in the city and strategize, yes? If the magisters are hiring sellswords we don our armor and go up that way. If not, we need to find some disguises...oh, and Rhys? You might need to put that mask in the cart."

Rhys shook his head. He knew this moment would have to happen sooner or later, but he really rather it would NOT have been in this city. Again, coming here was a mistake. “That will be an impossibility. Observe.”
Rhys lifted his mask up, revealing his gaunt pale face and the large wine-colored scar which had been concealed. The wound was a nasty one, covering a blue eye and most of his face. After a pause for dramatic effect, he continued.
“There you have it, companions. The face of the Masked Mage. I am afraid my natural visage is no less conspicuous than my artificial one.”

Rhys returned the mask to his face. “This wound of mine was also inflicted by a blade that belonged to one of this city’s guardsmen, and I doubt the leadership has forgotten me or my face, scarred or fresh. It may serve to draw even more suspicion than the mask would...”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Therefore, I must issue an ultimatum: the mask stays, or I depart.”

"Gah! What can we do then?" Nidesis paced a bit before realizing that he was looking at the situation in the completely wrong manner.
"Wait..." Nidesis spoke to Rhys, "If you're an outlaw in this city, you found a way to escape, yes? Tell me, whatever route you took...could we use it to get back in?"
With any luck, Rhys would know of a way to sneak in to the inner ring, and from there they could steal the required materials to clear the storm, or even teleport closer to their destination.

Rhys thought for a moment. “The sewers are enchanted to harm anyone who falls in, but I could probably cast wards that would shield us from the worst of it. There are public stations we can emerge from, or if you wanted to go straight for the Citadel we could do that as well.”

"Let's go straight there. The whole point is to get inside the central tower where the Archmage's personal laboratory ought to be. We can use that to clear a storm or, if we're lucky, we might find the materials for a portal straight to Terris. Come on men, let's move!"