Monty had done countless scouting missions for the hero at this point. Melting into the shadows and disguising himself came to him as naturally as breathing. Sometimes, he would even forget who he was and instead play out the role of whoever it was that he was impersonating so perfectly that even the most suspicious guards simply let him into their city.
Today was no different. Posing as an old beggar with a hunched back and a cane, he begged in Asmareth's name to be allowed into this strange city. Clad in the glamour of magic, his skin was sagging just enough to convince even the blind locals to keep their distance from him. They knew he was there even though they hadn't seen him before or even heard him walking around in their streets, and in spite of that, their sharpened senses due to their blindness made sure that they could feel him at all times without losing 'sight' of him.
