“Just do it. Make… Make yourself look like one of the guards. I’ll follow suit.” Crimson raised a brow but then nodded. Her horn glowed bright red and a wave of magic washed over her body, cloak, bags and all. What was left was the facade of a yellow guardsmare. By her own admission, illusions were not her strong suit, being a part of her regular, under-practiced, non-old magic repertoire. It wouldn’t stand up to strong magical scrutiny but Handy didn’t need it to. He used the opportunity presented by Crimson’s momentarily closed eyes to project the form of a bog standard guard himself. “Let’s go.”