There were nods around the table. Erroix raised a hand, catching the attentions of everyone assembled. “So say this actually takes us to Turris. How do we gain entrance, and what is our goal once we are inside?”
“Should we really be wasting daylight trying to answer that question now, with Volkmarr out there?” Bodvar replied, chuckling.
A moment of silence. “I agree with Bodvar. We’ll consider it when we get to it, we can’t sit around and wait for what happened in Sprohm to repeat itself.” Deormund said. Erroix threw up his hands in mock defeat.
Bodvar rose from his chair. “I suppose we better get out of these travelling clothes as well. I would prefer not going into another deadly battle in just a tunic.”
The impromptu meeting disbanded as Noah and Ailred went back to their respective tasks. The group, with the exception of Dah’Marra, all changed out of their travelling clothes. Nora dug the various supplies and tools out of her pack, revealing the white mage-robe she had kept stashed in the bottom. The white fabric with the red inner lining and trims seemed just as vibrant as when Master Karitra had presented them to her. The only sign of wear she could see was the hood being slightly compressed from being pressed pressed inwards for a couple weeks on the road. Her travelling robe was folded and put away. She didn’t know if they would be able to return to Luthadale right after exploring Turris so no sense in leaving anything behind. After a last search for any items left behind, she went into the hall to join the others. Erroix had donned his own mage robe, its voluminous dark-purple fabric practically the opposite of her white robes. He had left the hat off, its wide brim and tall point covering a sizeable portion of their table on its own. A red scarf covered his neck and mouth, contrasting with his pale skin. Bodvar was covered in fur, leather and red fabrics. A steel breastplate covered hist chest and further steel plates enhanced the leather skirt that protected his thighs.
Deormund had strapped his knights armour on, leaving only his arms and shoulders without steel protection. His family sigil, a griffin striking from above, decorated the middle of his breastplate. While he wielded a spear in battle, he kept a sword sheathed at his side when in his armour. Dah’Marra had already been dressed in her battle leathers when she had returned from scouting the beach. Dark-brown leather long-boots covered her legs alongside a pair of dark green linen trousers. Similar gloves covered her hands and forearms, and a green tunic with a long skirt open at the sides covered the rest, as well as concealing the leather beneath. A quiver was strapped across her back, with a bandolier across her chest on the same strap, holding small ceramic bottles. Like Deormund, a sword was in a sheath hanging from her belt. Nora thought that, when all suited up and ready like this, they looked decidedly more heroic than when they had emerged from the Zedlei, tired and slightly muddy. Next time they arrived at a new village, she would like to try and present a first-impression like this, instead of 5 wanderers in brown robes.