Sir Thickrod's Fellowship

Sir Thickrod reaches the ruined watchtower as dusk stains the broken stones. A fugitive crouches among them, watching smoke coil beyond the hills, while bootsteps murmur below.

The fugitive is a lean young adult man with wind-burned skin, tangled black hair, and a torn brown cloak. Beside him, an elderly woman in ash-gray wool, with a narrow, weathered face, an iron-gray braid, and a slight stoop, grips a cracked walking staff.

Below, five hunters emerge between the leaning stones, bows ready and lanterns hooded. Their leader raises one hand, and the others spread beneath the tower.

The fugitive glances toward Sir Thickrod, then toward the narrow stair and the hunters below. Their arrival is moments away; both witnesses remain within his reach.

Sir Thickrod draws the fugitive and elderly witness into the tower’s broken shadow. Arcane light threads from his hands, matching their forms to fallen stone, dust, and lichen.

The illusion settles over all three of them, disguising cloaks, skin, and armor as a jagged section of ruined wall. Even their shadows become cracks between stones.

Five hunters pass below, lanterns hooded and bows ready. One pauses beneath the false masonry, but finds only cold stone and drifting grit.

The hunters withdraw toward the hills, their voices thinning into dusk. The spell remains convincing, and the hidden witnesses stay safely concealed beside Sir Thickrod.