An old man clad in mouse-colored robes wandered out of the shadows.
A cross-tunnel monitor clad in plain black robes made his way through the mass.
There were men and women, all clad in flowing robes.
Twelve men came out, old, or at least they seemed so to him, clad in grey robes.
But then one of the strangers, clad in black robes,1 turned to face the advancing tytans.
She also was clad in clean, white robes which the slave woman had found for her.
Nearly two hours later she returned, clad now in the mask and robes of a Pilgrim.
The wizard was not alone; several other men and women accompanied him, clad in flowing robes of red, black, or gold.
She had joined the others, to find the women similarly arrayed, while the men were clad in long white robes.
One was clad in black robes, gnarled hands rested across the chest.
