"Ho there! State your busine-"
A cringe-inducing crash of wood and the abrupt neighing of a panicked horse filled the air at one of the kingdom's most remote border patrols. A rider hooded in black charged the guards, who wisely got out of the way but were ridden with fear. The black rider abruptly stopped near the gate and turned to the guards. "No living man may hinder me..."
The man had cleverly disguised his voice with Demonic Speech, so the guards fell down in terror as if dead. "A fiend walks among us!"
The black rider continued on, into a big field. He lost the men and dismounted. The rider then put his fingers to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. Ordinary folk could distinguish it as a normal hawk's screech, but only true thieves knew the true meaning: [i]Help me. I seek shelter.[/i]