Ebon Casket
He nods his head and walks away.

Of course she'd be no help.

Terme leaves the inn, making his way towards Saxum's finest tailor for clothes for his new assignment and a leather knapsack large enough for Noxus' sword. Should things go off without a hitch, he'll find his way to the blacksmith's shop to get two daggers and afterwards to the stables at the city gates to purchase a steed.

The clothes will need to be dark, so I won't be easily detected, and well-fitting, allowing for optimal maneuverability, while the weaponry should be sleek and durable. With this ring I can have the best quality wares available.

Saxum

Terme arrives at Linen Grad, a walk in tailor shop. Sturdy wooden panels make up the walls and floor, and wooden beams cross the ceiling. Several windows let in light through their shutters. The room has a faintly polished smell. In displays and hung on hooks on the walls there are great coats of silk, crafted by an expert hand. Hats, cloaks, bags, shirts, and any other clothing is propped for viewing. The owner, a somewhat old but obviously dextrous man with a wide nose, stands at the back at a booth, talking to an obviously rich young man about a silver cloak.

Linen Grad

Terme stays back, perusing the man's work for anything that might fit his requirements as he listens in on their conversation.

Linen Grad

One of the voices is striped with age, most likely the owner's.

"Yes, you see, the silk is durable, not just good looking. It's layered thickly so that it does not tear easily with travel."

Another voice, younger. The rich young man.

"And what of temperature? Surely the extra thickness would make it stuffy."
"Well, it will. But not significantly enough to make too much of a difference. And the fabric is light on the inside so that it rests comfortably on your shoulders despite the added weight."
"Yes, I think I like this cloak. Very sleek. I would like it customized, however."
"Certainly sir, just let me find my quill."
...
"Found it. So, what do you want?"
"On the outside of the cloak, I would like a large grey wolf sown in. I would also like a sturdy strap on the left side, large enough and in the right position to carry a small, concealed weapon."
"I can do that. Come back within a few days and I should have your cloak. The price will be raised, of course."
"Of course. It is no issue. Have a good day."

The young man begins for the exit.

Linen Grad
Terme turns to look at the man leaving and considers speaking to him. His curiosity gets the better of him as he opens his mouth to speak.

"What inspires such a beautiful design?" He implores.

Linen Grad

The young man pauses and blinks at Terme.

"Who can tell what inspires craftsmen? Coin, probably."

Barracks

A messenger carrying a bulging shoulderbag approaches Raethan at a run, pulling out a sealed letter.

"From Commander Dragon Auster, sir." The messenger thrust the letter at Raethan.

An interesting fellow, Dragon Auster. The name itself was interesting and frightening enough, but so was the person himself: he had come from the south, they say. Far south. That's what he claimed. Nobody really knew otherwise, but he was a tactical genius like no other, and a better fighter than his namesake, many claimed. Quite an interesting fellow.

Barracks

Raethan takes the letter and thanks the messenger. Looking at the letter, he takes it back to a desk in his room. Wondering why Commander Dragon himself would send him a letter, Raethan quickly opens the letter and reads it.

Linen Grad
"I was actually referring to the insignia. And also the hidden portion. What an ingenious idea, but why would one need something like that?"

Barracks

The letter is small, and printed. Likely produced en mass.

"DO NOT DESTROY THIS NOTICE.

You are receiving this because you have been noted as worthy of joining a military organization. For security, the details are not in this letter. Be at the Cael barracks as soon as possible, where you will be identified and briefed. Keep this letter with you and safe.

By order of Dragon Auster."

Linen Grad

"My job isn't always safe, and it's always good to have your best cards hidden, is it not? Who are you?"

Barracks

Raethan leaps from the desk where he sat, questions racing through his head. "There will be time for those later" he thought to himself, "for now start by informing commander Tarabon". Then made his way to command.