RP:Murder of a Gualon Sentry
Sanlig makes his way through the swamp, his black-robed figure hidden well by the shadows of the night. His movements are silent as a cat's, his body, withered thin by extensive magic use, makes hardly a footstep in the mire. The illusionist's nostrils flare a bit as a new stench enters the air, accompanied by the grunting breathing of an orc sentry. There he stood, big and hulking, armed to the teeth. Sanlig smiles under his cowl, raising his staff. Softly, he begins the chant, weaving an elaborate web of illusions that wraps around the unwitting sentry. To the orc, it seems as though a mist arises from the swamp, obscuring everything further than five feet in any direction. It is nothing unusual for the area, but it causes the guard to grunt in irritation. He snaps to attention, however, when noises begin to issue from the mist; the squelching sounds of heavy footsteps, the clink of armor, and finally the the slithering sound of blades being drawn from leather sheaths. Little eyes narrow, and he lifts his halberd high, his gruff voice barking out, "Who there? Stop!" From the fog appear hosts of warriors, clad in full war gear, surrounding the orc in a double ring of sharpened steel. The narrowed eyes widen in shock and horror, but the orc acquits himself well. Lunging forward, he swings his halberd at the nearest enemy, attempting to split through helmet and skull alike. But the weapon appears to simply snap, the blade breaking off and sailing away into the fog. As he stares in shock, the war band closes in on the Gualon soldier, stripping his weapons and armor away. They seem to take knives, sharp and curved, and begin to flay the thick, green hide, lifting it from the now-shrieking orc. To him, the agony feels very real, his blood truly feels as though it is flooding out into the marshy ground. As they start on his face, he finally blacks out altogether. Behind the illusion, Sanlig grins as the orc goes limp, and scurries forward. He draws the soldier's dagger and slams it into its owner's throat, killing the unfortunate immediately. The illusionist then begins to saw the head off his prey, a laborious effort and one that takes a very long time. When he finally finishes, he carves a 'T' onto the broad forehead, and spikes the head on the fallen halberd, which he then wedges the pole arm in a upright position in the sentry post, face pointing back toward Gualon. On the skin of the decapitated torso, he carves another message: -Kurlurk, meet me.- That done, the illusionist creeps back into swamp, waiting for the alarm cry of the dead orc's replacement, likely just minutes away from relieving him.