ain't giving ya shit, so ya might as well finish whatever you were starting."
She sighed, defeated. "Ok. See ya both in two days, then," she called as she walked away.
"I'm rooting for ya, kid," Zep whispered when she was well away. She wasn't sure if he knew she could still hear him.
Her first stop was the requisition office. Once there, Sal retrieved her stipend and invoked her access to any information pertaining to the next trial. She scoured page after page of documents, taking note of items that seemed abnormal but, overall, finding nothing that gave her any insight into the test. From there, she began asking for a wagon into Fort Landing. The ride would take an hour, but her plan required it. She needed supplies from a larger outpost and an alibi.
It didn't take long before she jounced and bounced in the back of a supply cart, the driver casting suspicious glances at her. Sal started to ignore him, then realized that the prejudice against her own kind would actually work in her favor. Over the course of the ride, she took note of the way he checked her actions, how his face showed traces of disgust, and the tension in his body while he tried to pretend she wasn't there. She thought about how that could apply to her new form, for the dark skinned woman would naturally have been taught that she was better than any iliri. Her prejudice would have to be minimal at best. Sal would never be able to give an honest portrayal of hate for her own kind.
When they reached the gates of Fort Landing, the driver kicked her out. Grabbing her bags, she casually turned without a backwards glance, amused at the smell of fear emanating from the human, then strolled across the dusty cobbles of the oldest fort in the Conglomerate. Her destination was an inn on the lower side that would ask few questions and serve her kind. After securing a room, she changed into a billowy dress and tossed her belongings into a parcel that she mailed back to the stable. The delivery was set for the date of the first trial. Her room now barren of personal belongings, Sal returned to the street. Her casual attire allowed her to blend with the citizens, even if her skin didn't.
A quick stop at the main requisition desk required her to sign in, proof that she was no longer at Stonewater Stables. She checked these records for any hint of her next mission, but found the Black Blades ordered little out of the ordinary. Not surprised at the lack of information, she thanked the attending official and put her plan into action.
A few blocks down the street, Sal ducked into a public restroom. The stench of the toilets distracted her, but she focused on the woman she was about to become. Once her bones solidified and her form stabilized, she walked to the mirror. There, looking back at her, was a human woman in a loose but well-fitting dress. The same dress that billowed around Sal's shins now brushed her new knees, and the neckline that hung limply against Sal's chest strained before her ample breasts. She twisted the curls of her hair into a serviceable knot, then made her way back to the street.
The change in how people reacted was immediate. Men turned to look and women turned their eyes away. Pale-skinned humans and iliri crossbreds shot jealous glances at her. Sal pretended not to see them as she made her way to a local clothing store in the residential district. She entered and noticed yet another difference. Attendants glanced up at the sound of the door, immediately making their way to assist rather than ignoring her presence.
"Madam, what can we do for you today?" The chipper girl asked.
"I need something a bit more formal, it seems," she replied. "I've been invited to a few events this weekend and heard the most fashionable clothes in this area could be found here?"
"Oh yes, ma'am," the clerk assured her. "We outfit officers, their spouses, and even enlisted soldiers. Our
She sighed, defeated. "Ok. See ya both in two days, then," she called as she walked away.
"I'm rooting for ya, kid," Zep whispered when she was well away. She wasn't sure if he knew she could still hear him.
Her first stop was the requisition office. Once there, Sal retrieved her stipend and invoked her access to any information pertaining to the next trial. She scoured page after page of documents, taking note of items that seemed abnormal but, overall, finding nothing that gave her any insight into the test. From there, she began asking for a wagon into Fort Landing. The ride would take an hour, but her plan required it. She needed supplies from a larger outpost and an alibi.
It didn't take long before she jounced and bounced in the back of a supply cart, the driver casting suspicious glances at her. Sal started to ignore him, then realized that the prejudice against her own kind would actually work in her favor. Over the course of the ride, she took note of the way he checked her actions, how his face showed traces of disgust, and the tension in his body while he tried to pretend she wasn't there. She thought about how that could apply to her new form, for the dark skinned woman would naturally have been taught that she was better than any iliri. Her prejudice would have to be minimal at best. Sal would never be able to give an honest portrayal of hate for her own kind.
When they reached the gates of Fort Landing, the driver kicked her out. Grabbing her bags, she casually turned without a backwards glance, amused at the smell of fear emanating from the human, then strolled across the dusty cobbles of the oldest fort in the Conglomerate. Her destination was an inn on the lower side that would ask few questions and serve her kind. After securing a room, she changed into a billowy dress and tossed her belongings into a parcel that she mailed back to the stable. The delivery was set for the date of the first trial. Her room now barren of personal belongings, Sal returned to the street. Her casual attire allowed her to blend with the citizens, even if her skin didn't.
A quick stop at the main requisition desk required her to sign in, proof that she was no longer at Stonewater Stables. She checked these records for any hint of her next mission, but found the Black Blades ordered little out of the ordinary. Not surprised at the lack of information, she thanked the attending official and put her plan into action.
A few blocks down the street, Sal ducked into a public restroom. The stench of the toilets distracted her, but she focused on the woman she was about to become. Once her bones solidified and her form stabilized, she walked to the mirror. There, looking back at her, was a human woman in a loose but well-fitting dress. The same dress that billowed around Sal's shins now brushed her new knees, and the neckline that hung limply against Sal's chest strained before her ample breasts. She twisted the curls of her hair into a serviceable knot, then made her way back to the street.
The change in how people reacted was immediate. Men turned to look and women turned their eyes away. Pale-skinned humans and iliri crossbreds shot jealous glances at her. Sal pretended not to see them as she made her way to a local clothing store in the residential district. She entered and noticed yet another difference. Attendants glanced up at the sound of the door, immediately making their way to assist rather than ignoring her presence.
"Madam, what can we do for you today?" The chipper girl asked.
"I need something a bit more formal, it seems," she replied. "I've been invited to a few events this weekend and heard the most fashionable clothes in this area could be found here?"
"Oh yes, ma'am," the clerk assured her. "We outfit officers, their spouses, and even enlisted soldiers. Our
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