[h2]Kalla[/h2] Allard's Inn

Sev woke far earlier than he intended, or wanted, to a crackling snap. In an instant his staff was in his hand with the head pointed at the source, which was oddly the door. When his air ward breaks it's supposed to make a single loud snap, this sounded more like the the ward was being torn apart. Through tired eyes Sev eyed the door confused as to what was happening. The first time the illusion of a staff that covered his spear shimmered he wasn't sure if it was real or not, rubbing the sleep from his eyes he confirmed it as the image wavered again, momentarily revealing parts of the staff. As he came around he could also feel the illusion covering his eyes shimmering slightly, which was distinctly not good. Both spells had enough mana to last for the night so they weren't on the verge of failing, yet something was messing with them.

While he was in the army Sev was trained in practical magic, throwing fire and ice, using his gift of air to boost his abilities and attack enemies, that kind of thing. Theoretical Thaumaturgy was beyond him, all he could tell is that there was something odd in the air that was messing with his spells. He closed his eyes to try and sense other magics in the area, but only felt a chaotic mess of mana blowing around the town. He did feel a familiar aura, somewhat drained but tense as though about to fight. While Sev wasn't skilled enough to pinpoint Maeve's aura, he could tell something was wrong.

Quickly strapping his armor on and throwing his tunic over it Sev made for the door of his inn room, dismissing what remained of the ward. Seeing his staff shimmer again he thought for a moment before dismissing the illusion, it was clear the illusion would be difficult to maintain, likely not work and be hard to explain. The spell around his eyes, however, he shored up with more mana and focus, hopefully he could keep any shimmering in his eyes to a minimum.

Half running through the doors of the inn Sev immediately found Maeve, rapier in hand looking up at where an odd man squatted.

[color=6ecff6]"Who are you?"[/color] Maeve asked, having not seen Sev yet.

The warrior mage followed her gaze and felt his hands tighten on his spear as he took in the sight of the hoe wielding, pipe smoking man with a dried hand hanging from his belt. Any remnants of sleep were banished from his system as his mind raced, a dozen possibilities coming to mind. Taking a deep breath he came up with a plan, acutely aware his illusions would be unreliable.

"He's either a bandit with poor taste in costumes, or the boogyman my mother threatened me with as a kid," Sev said as calmly as he could, walking to Maeve's side, "possibly both."

With one hand he quickly drew a line in the air in front of him summoning a thin but turbulent barrier of air between the two of them and the strange man. If that man was who he dressed as the barrier wouldn't stop him, however it had a second, more important purpose, in that it could cover up his illusions if needed. The barrier wavered chaotically against whatever was disturbing the mana in the air, distorting images seen through it.

Letting the barrier stand he focused on the images of himself and Maeve, ready to divorce the two of them from their apparent location, grab her and run if needed. The dislocation would likely only last a moment but with the Quickening that was enough for him to get down the block and around a corner, even carrying a confused, and likely upset, woman.

Outwardly he did his best to look calm, intellectually he knew this man was likely a fake, one of the dozens of bandits who copied that look to strike fear in others. But the way his spells were being distorted and mana was blowing about had Sev on edge, his mind hyper-focused on the other man, ready to enact his plan to run at the first sign this man was able to back up the threat the costume he wore implied.