Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20140528024640/@comment-25286356-20140529203318

Tacitus approached the man, masquarading as a servant. A stolen uniform too tight for his carcass and accessories complimenting his disguise, hidden dagger a-trembling, Lanius offered his mark a bowl of baked potatoes and Boar.

"Of course..." he muttered as the man swept away the silk, revealing his assassin's rusty iron knife. In the blink of an eye, a sharp piece of metal found its way into skin and muscle tissue. An inch deep into the side, sectioning the artery. Fatal strike, death predicted within twenty seconds.

Tacitus' shadow fled the scene before the man's head touched the table, casting two Illusion spells on guards. This bought him time to infiltrate a group of merchants and consumers, effectively melding his very existance with the people. All the guards found were tavern clothes, but one sniffed the trail. An elderly guardsman rested a hand on Tacitus' shoulder, his face covered in charcoal with two arrowheads for ears, cloak worn over. A comely Dunmer lass approached her kinsman.

"You'll need to excuse my friend, he is deaf. Can I help you with anything?"

As the patrolling swordsman shook his head and investigated other stalls, the woman handed over a pouch of Drakes and whispered into her friend's ears:

"You'll find them in the sewers. Two foreigners just walked in", she whispered.

"Thanks" replied Tacitus, simply.