"We know who you are." The guard interrupted the crow-man impatiently, scrutinizing Lancelot and his entourage with suspicion, "Why are there so many people?"
"Because the Holy Maiden herself has come in person," Danks introduced proudly, "This is Miss Elizabeth, the envoy blessed by Lord Cranvo, the Lord of the Dead. The others are…"
"Her attendants," Lancelot interjected, "responsible for ensuring the lady's safety."
The guard's gaze paused only briefly on Lancelot before moving on. The Human Knight's mithril full plate armor, once worth a fortune, had been blown into countless fragments. He now wore a dirty iron circle armor that made him look like a common mercenary. Of course, this temporary gear had been inspected and processed by Dwarven artisans, with absolutely no issues in performance.
"That's all there is to it, you all heard." Danks turned around, "So, I guess your boss is inside, right? How is he feeling now?"
