>>5565786Oluwadamilare sets about equipping himself as well, wearing a greyish-white tunic and breeches to hide those scaly patches of skin which reveal his true nature His feet, ending in clawed toes rather than primate nails, are tucked into a new pair of boots. He carries an assassin’s dagger of his own—two, if you count the smaller, hidden blade tucked into the back of his belt—and a bow restrung with silk from the Drow’s own spiders. On his breast hangs a crystal pendant—magical, but only for its ability to produce a dim light, like that of Wevenore.
“A token,” he answers the wordless question in your gaze, and smiles ruefully. “Jaz.”
“Ah.”
You clutch the Amulet of the Dragon—your own love’s favour, hidden away in your pocket. You place her latest creation around your neck once more, and assume your own human guise once again.
“Are we ready?” asks the elder Hawksong operative, a titch brusquely.
“Yes.”
The three of you leave through the same exit-tunnel which you and the Novice took for your date. Oluwadamilare, lacking the night-vision of you and the Dragonblood, uses his dark elven crystal’s fey light to guide him—something that your senior Infiltrator grumbles about, but not so loudly as to provoke you to speechify further. You pointedly ignore it, and instead fall back to olu’s position.
“You do not know these tunnels well enough to navigate them by feel and memory?” you ask.
The Archer glances at the back of the Dragonblodoed One’s form, to ensure there is ample distance between them. Then, with a cheeky grin, he shrugs.
“This is faster,” he answers. “And besides… This annoys him.”
You manage to keep yourself from laughing, and speed up again to keep your small party close.
