As Robert finished his last preparations, the early morning mist held the Osborn estate like a protective cover. He took his time transforming into someone entirely different within the privacy of his chambers. With a careful touch, he used powders to add years to his youthful appearance, while a vial of alchemical dye turned his signature golden hair into an ordinary brown. He smoothed a flesh-toned paste over the scar on his left temple, a reminder of his early training.
His clothing told a different story now. Gone were the fine robes that marked him as young nobility. Rather, he was dressed in the basic attire of a traveling merchant: a patched cloak that had seen better days, a belt pouch that jingled with just enough coins to avert suspicion, and sturdy leather boots worn at the foots.
