“Getting in will be simple enough," Bardus began, crouching at the head of the loose circle their group had formed while they made their plan. "All rangers of the Iron Watch are prepared for infiltration missions should the need arise. Samorr, would you like to show him what I mean?” the man continued, turning his gaze back to the red-haired ranger as he asked his question at the end. Grinning, Samorr nodded eagerly and pulled off his cloak, inverting it before sliding it back on – and suddenly looking like someone entirely different as he pulled his hood up to complete the effect.

The inside of his cloak was black instead of the green Valen was used to seeing and with the hood up over his head, Samorr had gone from friendly adventurer to brooding hunter. Then he saw the insignia on this side of the cloak, sewn in above the right side of his chest; a sickle crossing a skull. It was the symbol of the Shadow Legion, an elite group of hunters and assassins serving as one of the very few organizations to answer directly to the Emperor. None save the High Lords and the Emperor would dare to command them, which made it the perfect cover for these rangers – and it fit their own skills quite well, if the stories of the Shadows were to be believed.

Even Samorr’s demeanor changed, going from affable and friendly to angry and brooding. He played the part exceptionally. Hedrick was already removing his own cloak, inverting it as he went, but instead of putting it back on himself he handed it over to Valen.

“It’s a little large, but with any luck they’ll see the symbol and that’s all they'll care about,” he said, shrugging as he finished. Valen took it, giving himself a moment to look at the symbol. It sent chills down his spine, thinking about the kind of dangerous men and women who were actually members of the organization. Still, he knew there was no real choice to make here. He took his own cloak off and pulled Hedrick’s on.

The ranger had been right when he said it would be too large, but since it was a cloak it wasn't too bad. When he pulled it close he noticed that he couldn't really tell that it was too long.

“Well let’s not waste any time, shall we? Samorr, you take the lead. Valen, just stick with him and do as he does. If you can manage that, everything will be fine,” Bardus told them. There were nods all around and then it was time Valen and Samorr to head back to their horses. It would be odd, after all, not to be travelling on horseback when they made their approach.

They reached their steeds quickly, leading them back out onto the paved road before pulling themselves up into their saddles. Valen felt his pulse growing faster as he tensed up, the feeling growing worse the closer they got to the city. They turned a corner in the path, exited the tree line and then there it was.

No more than another mile ahead, feeling to Valen like the jaws of death even though none of the others had appeared concerned, were the gates of Trinity. If they kept their current pace they would be arriving in only a few short minutes - and indeed, all too soon they were approaching the guards, who at first strode forward to block their path before just as quickly rushing to get out of the way once they saw the insignias on their cloaks.

Just as Hedrick had said.

“Apologies, Shadows, we did not mean to offend! We should have realized who you were sooner,” one of the militiamen said, his voice shaky with fear. It seemed these folks had heard the same stories that Valen had of the Shadow Legion, coming to the only rational conclusion - don't risk offending a Shadow.

“Indeed, you should have,” Samorr replied, his voice sounding completely different now. Gone were the teasing lilt and joyful rise, replaced by a cold stillness that spoke of barely restrained violence. The guard’s face went white as snow and backed up as much as he could without further offense to Samorr, whose gaze turned lazily over the rest of the militiamen. They were each cowed in turn before a smaller door opened next to the gate and out strode a man wearing real Imperial armor.

A true Imperial legionnaire serving as, Valen assumed, a commanding officer here. Upon seeing the two of them his eyes went wide and he immediately fell to a knee, his voice cutting like a whip as he addressed those under his command.

“Get on your knees now, you fools! Kneel!” he snapped, and just like that everyone was on their knees, eyes cast downward.

“As it should be,” Samorr muttered, before then turning his attention to the officer.

“These are your men?” he asked disdainfully, gesturing toward the militiamen kneeling around them. “They need more… discipline.” The Imperial soldier kept his eyes down as he answered.

“My deepest apologies, Master Shadow. I assure you this is a mistake that will never be repeated. What may I do for you both? I will personally see to it that your business here is completed as smoothly and efficiently as possible,” the soldier replied, looking good and properly abashed. Samorr played his role exceptionally well.

“If you wish to make yourself useful, then begin by bringing us inside and taking us somewhere private to speak. We are in need of some potentially sensitive information,” he told the man. Valen was glad he had not needed to speak so far; his throat felt tight and he was sweating, a fact that was thankfully hidden by his cloak. If he had to say anything, he was afraid all he would be able to manage was a groan.

“Of course, Master Shadow. Please, follow me,” the legionnaire said, getting up from his kneeling position but still staying low in a bow as he began to back away, only returning to his full height after taking several steps backward. They were led into the town through the smaller door, just large enough for them to ride through on horseback, with the militiamen hurriedly closing it behind them.

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Eyes turned their way inside as well, more of the militia with no idea how they should react to the arrival of two Shadows. Whispers broke out in their wake and with each moment they remained without their cover blown, the more and more Valen began to ease into his role, at least enough to feign that same look of cold disdain that Samorr had mastered as he looked over the people they passed.

Trinity was much smaller and less grand than Lakevale. The edge of the city could be seen in every direction and from what Valen could tell it was maybe five or six times larger than the town of Wyrha back home. It was definitely larger than the average town, but after seeing a city as grand as the City of the Lakes he found it difficult to understand how this place could also be classified as such.

After walking along the road just inside the walls for about a minute, they turned toward a watchtower situated just around the middle point between two of the city’s gates. As Valen and Samorr dismounted two servants appeared as if out of thin air, reaching to take the reins for them. It was not something Valen was used to and for a moment he didn't realize what was expected. \ Then Samorr handed his own reins over to the other servant and he realized that he was going to look like a fool if he did not do the same.

So he handed his reins over, giving the servant his best cold glare just long enough to make the man look away uncomfortably as he began to lead his horse away.

They followed the Imperial into the watchtower even as he barked for the militiamen inside to get out so that the Shadows could have free reign of the building. Samorr strode straight to a table situated against the far wall of the tower, taking a seat and crossing one leg over the other. Valen felt as if sitting down would break what little menacing effect he had managed to far, so he elected to remain standing and took up a position next to the door. He crossed his arms as he met the soldier’s gaze for just a moment before the man returned his focus to Samorr.

“So, Master Shadows, what information might I provide you with?” the man began, sounding a bit uncomfortable finally now that he was alone with the two of them. Valen supposed that was good; the more squeamish he was, the lesser the chance he would notice anything amiss about their covers.

“It’s pretty simple, really. We’re hunting for several insurgents and insurrectionists that escaped the city of Lakevale about a week ago and that are believed to be heading South. I assume you already know of the fugitives of which I speak?” Samorr asked, leaning back as comfortably as though this was just another day for him.

“Ah, yes, Master Shadow. You speak of the Galar siblings and the escaped members of the terrorist organization known as the Children of the Sky?” the soldier inquired, to which Samorr nodded, doing so slowly and with a grimace as though he found it distasteful that the man had to doublecheck.

“You are correct, soldier. Go on now. Tell me everything that you know about these individuals,” Samorr pressed, until the soldier gave a quick nod and continued.

“Well, sir, the fugitives are wanted for collusion with terrorists, resistance to Imperial edicts, violence against the Empire, and several other major criminal acts. They are also travelling with two drakes – wyverns – illegal monsters that the Emperor, in his great wisdom, saw fit to drive from Parovia to better protect his people. The Emperor’s decree for them is, as I’m sure you’re aware, the Highest Punishment. Death by incineration, to be carried out at the discretion of the Blackscale Order upon their arrests. We have physical descriptions of almost all of their number, although it is believed that they have received additional help somehow, which I assume is why the Shadows are here. Three of you in one day was not what I was expecting, let me tell you,” the soldier said, starting to sweat now as he spoke and chuckling nervously at his last line.

Valen, however, had frozen, stuck on the last thing the Imperial had said. ‘Three of you in one day…’

There was a real Shadow in the city?!

If whoever it was were to find them, they would see through his and Samorr’s disguises immediately! Eyes widening in panic, he locked eyes with the ranger who gave him a quick shake of his head, his face still the false mask of a member of the Shadow Corps.

“Ah, I’m glad to hear of our brother’s arrival. After this, if you would not mind running along to let him know of our presence it would be greatly appreciated,” Samorr told him. Valen could actually believe that the ranger was not shaken by this new discovery. That is, until the soldier’s face twisted in confusion.

“Well, sir, the Lady Maeve asked to be alerted as soon as any other Shadows reached the city. Runners were sent to retrieve her the moment that you stepped inside. I’m sorry, but… What did you say your name was?” the Imperial asked. Valen saw the man’s hand slowly begin to reach for the blade on his hip, trying not make it obvious but apparently forgetting for the moment that there was another person behind him.

Samorr was silent for a long time, staring the soldier down as if wrestling with what to say next. Then, suddenly, his mask fell and it was regular Samorr again, one arm going back behind his head while the other fell to his waist. A grin lit up his features.

“That’s too bad. You were pretty helpful. Sorry about this,” the ranger said. Suddenly he was moving, leaping out of his chair and crossing the space between himself and the Imperial more quickly than Valen thought was possible. His fist came up, and Valen remembered the spiked knucklers sewn into Samorr’s gloves at the very last second as his fist connected with the soldier’s jaw and sent him careening to the floor in a spray of blood that misted the air.

The ranger did not stop there, however, following the man down to the ground and striking out with two more whip-like strikes that took the soldier in the throat, ending his life before he could do anything more than let out a faint gargling noise.

The violence took place so quickly that Valen could barely process what had happened. Then it hit him and he bent over, retching but barely managing to stop anything from coming up. He grimaced as he finished and caught an amused look from Samorr.

“Sorry,” he groaned. The ranger just shrugged before crossing the room and heading straight for the door.

“No time to worry about that now. If word was sent to this Maeve the second we stepped into the city, we have to move now. With any luck, we can make it back to the gates and out of Trinity before-“

Samorr’s words trailed off as he pulled open the door and the two of them looked out to see at least fifty Imperial soldiers waiting for them, adorned in the garb of true Legionnaires. At the front of the crowd, the woman that Valen assumed was Lady Maeve stood proudly, the sickle and skull of the Shadow Legion emblazoned above her chest.

Her smile was grotesque, like a gleeful predator that had sighted prey. Valen tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat.

"Well. Never mind then," said Samorr. Then he slammed the door shut in their faces and turned back to his young companion.

"What do we do now?!" Valen asked, frantic as the shouting began.

"We run, obviously," the ranger replied, looking at him like he was an idiot.

The door splintered inward, so Valen ran.