Nephis stepped out of the bath exhausted.
It was the same feeling that came over her after overusing her Aspect- a dull, aching emptiness that turned her into an emotionless machine, made her mind logical and cruel.
She toweled off with stiff movements, wrapping herself with the soft cotton towel as she left the bathing room. Her eyes were stern and cold as she entered her bedchamber, heading straight for the armoire that had stuck with her through every room change. She opened the small doors to the hanging clothes pragmatically, using her right hand to quickly sift through the multitude of dresses and bedshirts, holding her towel up with her left.
Dozens of silly and impractical dresses hung from the clothing rod, varying from pink and frilly to black and lacy around the shoulders. Annoyed at the poor-fitting range of clothing, she snatched a simple but refined white tunic from the hangar, as well as a form-fitting leather jerkin that had been fitted for her several weeks ago. She opened the drawers beneath the hanging clothes, seizing a pair of brown trousers, then walked back into the bathing room to change.
Nephis dared Ajihad or Hrothgar to judge her state of dress- if the elf woman could, so could she.
After she had finished dressing, Nephis stepped back out of the bathing room, tying her long hair above her head in a high ponytail with a knotted cord of short, silver rope. She noted in the back of her mind that she would need a haircut soon, as it was reaching an impractical length that could easily impede her sword fighting ability.
She grabbed a pair of dark brown, knee-high leather boots from beside her bed, then stepped into each of them. She then lifted her right leg onto the bed, her nimble fingers flying over the dozen lines of black string impossibly fast, ending in a neat bow at the top. She then did the same with her left boot.
Nephis cracked her knuckles absentmindedly as she adjusted her facial expression. She systematically softened her eyes, relaxed her cheekbones, and practiced smiling, which felt awkward and stupid at the moment, despite knowing how important it was.
She had been told that during times like these, she could seem... scary. Cassie had even remarked that the way she looked after overusing her Aspect could be described as inhuman. Well, more than usual, at least- Nephis' typical emotionless mask unsettled most people. It might have been an insult coming from anyone other than Cassie; Nephis' greatest asset and public relations expert was merely trying to help with her image, so she wouldn't be terrifying soldiers after every battle with her face.
After she fixed her expression as best as she knew she would be able under the circumstances, Nephis summoned her belt and scabbard Memory, as well as the Dream Blade, her sword. She forcefully reminded herself not to grip its ivory hilt with her left hand, as she needed it believed that it was only for show for the day, then practiced her obligatory breathing exercises. She found those helped the most at times like this.
Finally ready, she headed for the double door of her chambers, unlocking its steel deadbolt from her end. She then knocked three distinctive times, paused for a moment, and knocked twice in one beat. The code was changed every twelve hours, and was only known between Nephis and her guards for that day, to make it impossible to be tricked into opening it with magic, as they each wore enchanted rings with enabled only them to open the doors. She only had to wait a moment before they swung open simultaneously, opening into a tall stone hallway. She stepped out, eyes flicking down both ends of the arched stone hall as she tried to sense anything suspicious.
The one that had opened the left double door was a human guardsman, sporting heavy chain mail on his arms and plated steel on his chest, which was roughly inscribed with seven stars from one end to the other. He wore a kettle helmet, which had a ring that looked like a farmer's hat at its base. His face was framed in chain mail, and he had an ugly scar that crossed his face from an inch below his left eye down to below his chin, where the skin puckered together at the place the blade had struck deepest. It was old, and didn't look like it had healed with much medical help. The man stood a good five inches taller than Nephis.
The one that had opened the right double door was a dwarven guardsmen. He reached about Nephis' waist in height, which was tall for a dwarf. From head to foot he was dressed in sturdy plated armor that was almost two and a half inches thick on his shoulders, and sported a spangenhelm helmet that sat heavy on his head. His most noticable feature was the thick, gray, braided beard that reached his waist. It had dozens of small, colorful beads, as well as several rocks, woven in it. He, too, had seven stars spanning his chestplate.
Both of her guards held poleaxes in the opposite hands they used to open the doors. The man, who Nephis had been introduced to as Sarner several weeks ago, with his left, and the dwarf, who Nephis knew as Barne, with his right.
Nephis nodded to each of them sternly, walking clear of the doors, and quickly began to stride down the arched stone hallway. Her guards closed the thick, enchanted wooden doors with a heavy thud, quickly falling into step behind her. They both kept remarkable pace, especially the dwarf, who took four and a half steps to every third beat of Nephis' pace, in order to compensate for his height. She passed a dozen other soldiers in total as she made her way out, each stationed at six different rooms meant to confuse intruders, all of which saluted her proudly. She nodded to them as she walked, making sure to give each of them a brief moment of eye contact as she did, causing them to puff out their chests in pride as she passed. She could feel their stares following her and her personal guardsmen with slight jealousy and awe.
Almost half an hour later of zigzagging through labyrinthine tunnels and several fake walls, Nephis and her guard finally reached the entrance. The hallway opened up into a stone building, which posed as an ice room for cattle meat, which hung from rows of hanging pegs on either side of the room. The middle of the room was clear of frozen meat, which would be replaced upon their exit.
The muffled sounds of a large crowd could be heard outside of the ice room, including a dulled cacophony of farm animals.
Six other individuals awaited them on the other side of the room, each wearing hooded brown cloaks. They had a multitude of items on the floor in front of them, including a horse saddle and several large bags of barley. They removed their hoods when Nephis and her guard entered, revealing the average but unnaturally stern faces of evenly split men and women, with features that, by design, would be easily forgotten in a crowd.
A freckled, orange haired man stood in front of the rest of them, acting as leader. Sarner and Barne stepped in front of Nephis protectively, and Sarner quickly exchanged hurried hand signals with his right hand, his left still firmly gripped around his poleaxe. The leader reciprocated. After they were cleared, Barne approached.
The orange haired man brought forth three folded cloaks from beneath his own, as well as a bunched up group of rags, which Barne brought over to Nephis and Sanser. They quickly donned the cloaks, Sanser and Barne taking several moments to expertly wrap their poleaxes with rags to make them slightly less conspicuous, tying them to their backs along with bunches of firewood. Sanser removed his helmet and hid it under his armpit.
Nephis also wrapped some of the thankfully clean rags around her face, then adjusted her posture to be more hunched after one of the cloaked decoys tossed her a heavy bag of barley. The other members threw their hoods back on. Three of whom had also wrapped rags around their faces to match Nephis. They all picked up their own items, one of the women hoisting the heavy saddle with ease, despite its bulk and the awkward positioning sh e was forced to carry it with.
Finally, they were ready. Each of them held some item or the other, ready to blend into the crowd outside. Nephis stepped forward, and they all exchanged looks. She carefully rapped on the door with her knuckles. A tense moment later, she received an echoed response that meant it was safe to exit. She motioned with two fingers for the group to move out.
Two others, a man holding a bag with carrots peeking out of the top and the woman with the saddle, stepped in front of her and rushed out of the door. Nephis followed close behind, her highly sensitive ears suddenly assaulted by an influx of noise, bargaining men and women, merchants shouting their services, fussy babies and laughing children, then the half dozen different kinds of cattle. They passed the ones who acted as the shopkeepers of the stall, a kindly looking elderly couple who saluted her and her entourage feebly as they left.
Nephis stepped out into a world of white tents and stalls, parked wagons and packed crates, all tightly bunched up next to each other and crowded with dwarves and humans alike. Nephis and her decoys hit the marketplace quickly, slipping in and out of crowd, bouncing between friendly shopkeepers who'd nod and make way for them in their stalls and beggars who moved aside from convenient alleys between the tents. Nephis followed her layed-out path effortlessly as the group split up, making her way to the outside of the marketplace, where awaited their next safehouse. She caught several glimpses of Sarner and Barne on either sides of the edge of her vision, taking different paths, until she quickly overtook them.
Nephis narrowly avoided an exhausted looking human with a screaming baby swaddled to her back, passed a man stroking his goatee as he eyed a ruby-pommeled dagger laying on a velvet cushion at a merchants stall, and, after five action filled minutes of sneaking through the boisterous crowd, finally reached her destination. A large wagon that sat on the very edges of the marketplace, not yet opened for business despite it being the busy opening hour.
She climbed the short ladder into the back, pushing past the hanging cloth that acted as a privacy screen, then sat down on a chest as she waited for Sarner and Barne. She placed her barley bag at her side, atop a crate. Barne arrived only two minutes after she did, huffing as he un-shouldered his pack, tossing it into the wagon before climbing in and sitting across from her tiredly, greeting her with a gruff 'hello.' He then reached down and began extracting his poleaxe from the fierwood bundle as they awaited Sarner's arrival.
Just as Nephis began worrying that there had been trouble, he finally reached them. Nephis and Barne held open the flaps as he climbed in, red faced and sweaty. He threw his own pack into the back as well, sitting heavily onto a crate with straw and feathers sitting at its bottom. It creaked loudly as he sat, and Nephis was mildly surprised it didn't give in under the immense weight.
"Gods almighty. You two move so bloody fast."
He said, breathing hard. His head was between his knees as he caught his breath.
Barne chuckled deep in his throat, unwrapping his poleaxe.
"Yeh're getting out of shape, ye' old goat. Should've stayed a shepherd, eh? Ain't up for this work anymore."
Sarner shot him a nasty glare, snatching up a wineskin that sat nestled between his crate and a chest. He took a deep swig, then offered it to Nephis, who refused with a wave of her hand. She wasn't even winded.
"Watch who you're calling old, Barne. You're ancient enough to have been my grandfather."
Barne nodded wisely.
"That's the problem with humans. You don't live long enough to experience anything worth experiencing."
He quickly looked back to Nephis, inclining his head respectfully.
"No offense to you, of course, Lady Changing Star."
Nephis shook her head, bemused. She was starting to get some of her emotions back, it seemed. Moving around had helped a fair bit, though she could have gone at the same pace for twelve hours and never broken a sweat.
"None taken."
Sarner finished unwrapping his own poleaxe, scraping his thumb along its edge, looking satisfied. The wineskin sat corked atop the chest, and they had all removed their cloaks.
Barne rubbed his rough hands together eagerly, a twinkle in his green eyes as he asked.
"So, we ready to move out? Big day, you know."