Their welcome to the outpost was far from warm. Their group dropped out of the sky before they approached the nearest gap in the fortifications - a moat and a raised wall - only to be met with a raised hand stopping them. Two mundane soldiers were standing guard, preventing them from entry. Or, well, trying to with limited success.“We are not letting anyone inside right now,” the very brave - or probably mana blind - soldier told them with the confidence of someone who probably hadn’t noticed them landing from flight not far away. “You have no right to deny us entry,” Elizabeth raised her own hand, holding the writ.“What is that?” The obstructive sentry asked with a frown. He glanced over at his friend, who shrugged uncertainly.“Maybe we should… but our orders are clear. No one gets in right now. Sorry, whoever you are.”“I am not feeling anyone particularly dangerous inside,” Elizabeth turned to Itwyn instead of even acknowledging the duo anymore. “You?”“Nothing more than one Concept,” he confirmed. There were two such presences within the camp as far as he could tell. And Irwyn didn’t think either of them were with the infiltrators from the rough locations he was feeling. Though his sense of smell was not the most directionally precise.“I don't want the Rot alerted because of these two buffoons. Desir, can you make them fall asleep on their feet? ”“Hey…!” One of them was immediately alarmed by those words, but he did not have the time to continue the sentence before his eyes closed and breathing steadied. Fascinatingly enough, neither of them so much as stumbled. “We have about an hour before they fall over,” the shapeshifter nodded. "I think. Haven't done exactly this before."“I think the smell splits two ways,” Irwyn was keeping track of the rotten scent in the meantime as they began to walk in. It was relatively faint, which presumably meant either weak undead or well-hidden ones. (...)