"The Covenant of Vermillion, you say?" The guard's voice, gruff and resonant within the confines of his full plate armor, held a note of grave inquiry.
"Yes, we've located their base. I need a swift audience with Captain Elara," Jace responded firmly, determination lacing his words.
"Are you certain you don't wish to visit the infirmary first, Mr. Wulfric?" The guard's voice wavered slightly; a touch of unease evident despite the concealing helmet. Alec couldn't see his exact expression, but he could sense the worry in the guard's tone. Jace, in his torn armor, bearing obvious injuries and an overall haggard appearance, appeared on the verge of collapse. Alec, nestled within the sachet hanging from Lorelei's waist, could only catch glimpses of the world outside, having observed enough during their time in the dungeon. The sachet, likely a mere coin purse in size, snugly accommodated Alec's diminutive form.
"No, I'm fine, and this is of utmost importance. I can't afford to delay relaying this information," Jace insisted, determination overriding any consideration for his own well-being.
"But I could arrange for the captain to visit you there—" the guard attempted to negotiate.
"Take me to your captain, now!" Jace's voice sliced through the air, a command that brooked no further argument, halting the guard's offer mid-sentence.
The scene danced with the resonance of footfalls, an unchoreographed rhythm leading Jace into the unknown, while Alec, concealed in his pouch-sized haven, felt the subtle vibrations of their movements.
The concealment of Alec had been meticulously planned from the moment they materialized at the entrance of the dungeon, a formidable chasm in the earth. As the silver storm dissipated, it whisked them back to the dungeon's gate—a colossal silver gate adorned with mesmerizing murals depicting a myriad of eyes. Spiralling stairs wound their way around the gaping hole, eventually ascending to the surface where the city of Dunhaven sprawled. Surrounding this immense well-like structure leading to the dungeon lay a fortress, Lorelei's information attested to its direct control and management by the city council.
They had climbed these stairs and then Jace had engaged in a hurried conversation with one of the guards stationed at this formidable gateway. Their recognition of Jace and Lorelei prompted an immediate rush towards them, a reaction triggered by the evident severity of their injuries. The bustling activity and concern in the air hinted at the gravity of the situation, infusing the atmosphere with a sense of urgency and concern.
Alec remained unnoticed within the shelter of Lorelei's sachet, his form veiled by the activated stealth skill, Mystic—a move suggested by Lorelei. She knew the meticulous nature of dungeon bureaucracy like the back of her hand. Familiars and tamed critters were pretty common companions for adventurers, but red tape demanded that these entourages be on the record before entering the fray. Alec's unregistered status could easily flag attention, potentially causing a stir. To avert any unwanted drama, they stashed him within the sachet, relying on the potent concealment of his Mystic skill. Enchantments and safeguards at the entrance thwarted illegal, stealthy infiltrations, potentially exposing Alec's hidden state, although his Mystic skill offered superior concealment.
As Jace and Lorelei emerged, the guards, hot on the heels of their concerns, swooped in. Their focus zeroed in on the duo, blissfully unaware of Alec's sneaky presence. The trio—Jace, Lorelei, and Alec—were grappling with uncertainties, primarily the true reach of the Covenant of Vermillion. There was this looming suspicion that the covenant had seeped into the city guard itself, especially with the revelation of one of the city council members, Lord Trelawney, being a part of this organization. With council members possibly compromised, they weren’t taking any chances—vigilance was the name of the game, and dropping their guard was absolutely off-limits.
Alec found himself in a bit of a pickle, lacking the means to mask his own species and level. His chat with Lorelei had illuminated the existence of Deception Items, these nifty gadgets that not only disguised a person’s class and level but also twisted these aspects in the perception of others. It was like putting on a cloak of invisibility for your power levels—a common trick among the combat-savvy to keep their true prowess under wraps. But, alas, these items were as rare and pricey as a dragon's hoard, making them more of a luxury than a common tool. In this world, the whole hush-hush about one's abilities was serious business, and for a newcomer like Alec, it was a weighty concern.
Alec pieced together a crucial understanding of the cultists' guises. Their knack for hiding their classes and levels most likely stemmed from some clever bling—a ring, a necklace, or some snazzy accessory. However, thanks to his mother's rather aggressive limb-relocation strategy, it seemed that losing a limb disrupted this concealment, outing their true identities. It was a game-changing revelation, shedding light on the intricacies of perception and its ties to these specialized items.
As for Alec’s own progress with the Mystic skill, it was like navigating a labyrinth—getting better but still a brain-bender for the little feline noggin. It was akin to holding your breath, knowing there's a timer before you have to exhale. For Alec, it was more like clutching his own existence, a peculiar but fitting metaphor for his situation. He could keep the skill up comfortably for about a minute, but stretching it to two resulted in a splitting headache. While the mana cost wasn't astronomical, his expanded mana pool meant he was far from tapping it dry.
Alec's view of the outside world remained limited to occasional glimpses, catching nothing more than the occasional glowing rune and the polished stone surface. Unaware of Lorelei's destination following her parting from Jace, his concealed position within the sachet restricted him to fleeting snippets of conversation. The Mystic stealth, now past its one-minute mark, demanded unwavering focus, making it challenging to grasp the full context of their surroundings.
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The structure surrounding the dungeon proved extensive, requiring Lorelei to navigate multiple twists and turns. Periodically, Lorelei would signal Alec by tapping the sachet—two taps when the coast was clear, prompting him to deactivate Mystic for a breather, and a single tap to signal the need for concealment once more. Their journey was frequently interrupted, with Lorelei being accosted by guards who recognized her or concerned individuals offering assistance to escort her to a healer. Lorelei graciously declined these offers, steadfast in her purposeful stride.
Alec found himself in a classic case of 'curiosity almost cat-napping.' He grappled with a tad of guilt, pondering his relentless questioning back in the dungeon, especially considering the banged-up state Jace and Lorelei were in. But hey, his fur-raising level of confusion was an excuse, right? The furball was determined to ask questions, circumstances be darned!
The sustained use of Mystic was imperative as they traversed the Dungeon Gateway, a fortress encasing the dungeon itself, teeming with city guards—the stalwart defenders of the city. Lorelei had shared that they were trained under the aegis of the Cathedral of The Iron Serpent, devoted to Thalador, the God of Protection and Justice. Alec absorbed these fragments of information about the varied religions in the world and soaked it in like a sponge but wisely held back his own inquisitive cat-titude for later.
Within Dunhaven, these city guards played a pivotal role in upholding peace and order. Renowned for their efficiency and unwavering commitment to enforcing the law, these guards were the peacekeepers, the law enforcers, the real deal. Alec had encountered firsthand the skill and ruthlessness of individuals adept at unveiling stealth, and Lorelei's warning about the potential presence of guards possessing perception skills heightened his wariness. Aware of their capabilities, he took extra caution, maintaining his hidden state to avoid attracting any undue attention.
In a while, Alec sensed three delicate taps on his sachet, a clandestine signal that whispered freedom from prying eyes. Weary, his petite feline form slouched within the snug confines of the pouch. Oh boy, that took a lot out of me. He mused, the fatigue oozing from his very whiskers. He was reluctant to delve into his stat revelations, but a keen sense of depletion lingered. Only a smidgen of his mana reserves remained. The deductions aligned perfectly—each moment under Mystic's cloak chipped away, leaving his mana at a quarter of its full kitty power. The shroud of Mystic seemed to hang around for about five minutes, followed by brief breathers.
As Alec traversed the space, the fortress's ambient tranquillity surrendered to an unfamiliar, vibrant uproar. The once-quiet atmosphere had turned into a bustling hubbub that rattled his sensitive ears. The chaos assaulted his heightened senses, each noise crashing like waves on a beach, disorienting his little demonic kitten form.
But it wasn’t just the ears under siege—his nose got a crash course in olfactory studies. While he had previously picked out Lorelei and Jace’s scents, the bustling domain now bombarded him with a riot of fragrances, each person carrying their unique smell. It was an overwhelming mix of spices, perfumes, and who-knows-what, creating a dissonant symphony that had his nose doing acrobatics.
The sensory overload wasn't paralyzing, but it sure did throw a cat among the pigeons, jolting Alec out of his reverie. It stripped away all other thoughts, seizing him in an abrupt moment of overwhelming revelation. His usually reliable senses turned into a frenzied rollercoaster of information, momentarily becoming foes rather than friends.
Lorelei, finely tuned to the nuances of Alec’s discomfort, zeroed in on the tiny feline within the sachet. "Are you alright?" she inquired, her perceptive gaze focused on the diminutive form within. All Alec could muster in response was a plaintive meow, a feeble attempt to express his distress amidst the pandemonium of his supercharged senses.
Halting for a beat, Lorelei's hand emerged in the sachet, woven in a delicate dance of ethereal purple threads. As it connected with Alec's forehead, a sensation akin to a gentle whisper brushed his consciousness, though his overwhelmed senses struggled to decipher its meaning. The threads intertwined, sinuously curling like serpents within the confines of the pouch, eventually coalescing into radiant symbols before swirling away into a shimmering mist.
Alec's surroundings underwent a sudden shift. It was as if he were in a closed room, where everything existed but in a softer, muted realm. The cacophony of noises turned into distant echoes, and the barrage of scents quieted down. Slowly, he began to regain his balance, sensing the echo of Lorelei's voice resonating within this metaphorical enclosed space. "Don't fret," her words reverberated, "it's just a temporary measure. We'll get to our destination before the spell wears off."
In the newfound bubble of calm, Alec breathed a sigh of relief, letting Lorelei's soothing words be the soundtrack to his recalibration within this quieter, gentler realm.
But the little demon of curiosity wouldn't let him rest. "Is that one of your skills?" Alec meowed out, unable to rein in his questioning nature. He knew, all too well, the unspoken rule about keeping class details under lock and key in this society, but he couldn't resist poking his nose into this secret garden of skills.
It was a bold move, and a part of him winced at the potential breach of social etiquette. The inner gremlin within him smirked in devilish agreement. However, the siren call of knowledge was just too enticing for Alec to ignore.
To his surprise, Lorelei entertained his query. Her voice resonated once more, carrying the revelation, "No, it's not one of my skills. It's a spell called 'Mind Wall,' designed to temporarily diminish the efficacy of your senses."
Alec's interest piqued, nearly prompting him to blurt out, "How does that work?" However, he halted himself, suddenly sensing Lorelei's uncanny knack for picking up on his curiosity. He couldn't help but wonder if she possessed some form of emotion-sensing skill.
"It was initially a spell crafted for countering monsters reliant on their acute senses," Lorelei continued, as if sensing Alec's unspoken inquiry. "Yet, its original form required direct contact, rendering it impractical. Over time, it evolved beyond combat applications to accommodate individuals awakened with heightened senses through their classes. The spell was refined to offer relaxation and training for those endowed with acute senses."
Alec was downright flabbergasted by Lorelei's encyclopaedia-like brain. She seemed to know everything but the colour of the socks the gods wore on Tuesdays. His mind buzzed with questions like a beehive, but he made a mental post-it note to save them for a time when safety was assured or wherever this journey with Lorelei was leading. After all, he didn't want to overwhelm his personal lore-magician with too much curiosity, too soon.