The Auctioneer's Guildhall did not care for glamour. It was function over all else. The chimneys, for example, were explained to him as mana radiation that led into a furnace. Instant death. Dasha did not wish to try his head through that entry point, nor the front entrance. So as they agreed, they were going for the magic vent at the leftside.
A curved wall of stained stone and corroded pipes running alongside an alley that smelled like rotting sulfur. The wall genuinely didn't look like much and was contained in a tight alleyway. What neighboured the Auctioneer's Guildhall, pressing down on them, was a storage facility owned by the Chinese Sect. It was why infiltration was not wise. It was stuck between a rock and a hard place, so to speak.
The moment Dasha stepped into the alley, he felt it.
Subtle resistance.
