Slip over the wall

You spend the next couple of days studying the guards routines, slowly working your way around the city. The guards patrol routes are very thorough, covering the walls in their entirety, and often overlapping. The guard captain is obviously a very thorough man, as you don't see any guards snoozing at their posts, either.

The first few days are uneventful. On the first night, however, you quickly realize the black bodysuit will probably provide you with far better camouflage than your armor will, and it'll be quieter as well. If you're going to wear it, however, you have to get to a point where you can do so without wanting to frig yourself senseless. You resolve to wear it that night, and quickly shrug out of your armor. Pulling the suit from your pack, you squeeze through the neck hole, marveling yet again at how it expands to fit your body. The sensations once again overcome you, your snatch nearly dripping just from putting the suit on, and it takes all your willpower to not open it up and finger yourself then and there. You can't stop yourself from running your hands over your breasts, however, relishing the muted, yet electrifying, sensations of caressing your sensitive nipples through the suit. That night, you make it a few hours before your willpower breaks, and you find yourself frantically digging for the catch in the suit. Finding it, you forcefully rip it open, your questing fingers promptly diving deep into your depths. You at least have the sense to bite down on a strip of cloth, ensuring your orgasmic screams are muffled, so they don't carry to the walls on the still night air.

The second night, you fare much better, making it most of the night before you finally end it in another masturbation session. This time, however, isn't as intense, and you take that in stride, realizing your approaching the point where you can wear the suit with enough self-control to do something other than masturbate endlessly.

The third night, you slip into the suit yet again, finding it a bit less electrifying this time. You take that as a good sign. A quick inventory of your food and water situation reveals you're running low on both. You can't afford any more recon after tonight. Sighing, you pack your sandals and armor away, and continue to work your way around the walls.

Fortune smiles on you a little after midnight. You spot a rough patch on the wall, which looks like a repair done in the last year or so. It's tall enough you can't jump to the top; however, the stone hasn't had much time to be eroded, leaving you plenty of finger- and toeholds with which to scramble up the wall. Furthermore, the guards here are a bit more relaxed, often pausing for a few moments to chat while they make their rounds. You slowly creep up to the wall, keeping low and in cover where you can, then wait for another moment to make your move. The next time the guards stop, you're up, quickly sprinting to the wall, leaping as far and high as you can. Your fingers and toes find holds as if it's second nature, a task which is surprisingly easy, considering the magic field surrounding the suit. Any vague concerns you had about the field being "slippery", or ruining your sense of feel, are banished. In fact, you can feel enough of the rough stonework to help you find purchases easily, without having to worry about sharp edges cutting you. If you thought this suit was awesome before, you're now maddeningly in love with it. At that, you promptly settle on selling your armor and sandals, though you figure you'll keep the heels for when you need to wear something other than your body suit.

You cling to the wall for a bit, listening to the guards as they move about the wall. Twenty minutes or so pass, and you start to worry about the sun coming up, when the muffled sounds of conversation reach you again. Taking your opportunity, you scramble up the wall, scaling it with remarkable ease. Peeking over the top, you see the guards standing about 30 feet to your right, neither of them looking your way. Their conversation is nothing more than the perpetual griping of soldiers everywhere, and their relaxed demeanor tells you they don't think anything is going to happen.

With a quick pull, you launch yourself over the parapet, your feet barely touching the wall before you're off, a brief shadow against the sky. You streak across the wall, launching yourself off the back of it into the city proper. For a brief, heart-pounding moment, you're hanging in the air, several stories up, before your fingers catch the edge of a nearby rooftop. You haul yourself up, and scurry over the peak of the roof, then check to see if the guards saw anything. Their conversation continues unabated, and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You dart another rooftop or two over, finding a flat one with ornamental edgework to settle in behind, and take a break.

Your mind turns to your next step. You need more food and water, and finding a place where you can sell your armor and buy something less conspicuous is also a priority. You also have no idea where Gerty's shop is. You'll have to track that down as well.