Hiding the Body

Vorcet let the body slip to the floor, one more stain in the floor of the now ill kept guard tower would go unnoticed.  Vorcet studdied the features of his victim carefully for a while.  Then he centered his mind and began to chant, small changes apeared at first in the body on the ground, then more quickly the snap of bone and reforming of flesh could be heard.  Finally shoulders slumped at the drain of power required to reform the shape of a human body Vorcet admired his handiwork.  Nobody would be able to tell the difference between the two men in the room.

Working from memory Vorcet began chanting again  THis time he held off the changes until the spell was complete.  Vorcet just hoped he could remain concious through the innevitable pain to follow.  Vorcet stopped chanting and steeled himself.  He released the magic and felt it slam into himself.  Vorcet hunched over in pain fighting to remain concious as wave after wave of intense pain ripped through his core.  His legs shortened, as did his arms. his internal organs contracted as his ribcage reformed into its new shape.  Snaps and grinding noises came from Vorcet's face as his face lengthened and his skull changed shape.

Panting and lying curled up in a ball on the floor, Vorcet waited for the wracking pains to cease their rounds through his body.  As the last of them faded away Vorcet stretched his new body experimentally.  Standing up slowly through slight waves of dizziness Vorcet grabbed Is'Kal's weapon belt and strapped it around his waist.  He pulled the sword out and studdied his face in the steel of the flat of the blade.  A simple beguiling spell would not have held for the time needed.  And this left no traceable magic.

Vorcet took the sword and slid it into the dagger hole in the dead guard, opening the wound to match that of a sword thrust. Vorcet added a few dents to the guards armor and stepped back admiring his handiwork.  Vorcet walked over to the wall and steeling himself he bashed his face into it to add a fresh bruis and a bloody nose to his new look.  Staggering back and grabbing his nose he gathered his wits and looked around.  THe room was not in enough dissaray to make it apear as if a fight had happened here.  He threw some things about and emptied the table of its contents.

Satisfied with the results, Vorcet walked to the door of the tower and With his new voice Yelled to the tower to the north for help.  Within minutes teh guard tower was filled with vectorian guards and a very angry Rhay.  Vorcet got several claps on the back as the body that looked so exactly like his own was dragged out of the tower.  Talk was tossed about regarding a promotion which got Vorcet's attention.

Now to get word out to his friends so they were not concerned about his body adorning a spike on the outside of the gates of the city.

Old skills New uses

As darkness settled over the city a figure slipped through the shadows of the buildings closest to the wall.  The hood of his cloak pulled up around his head to hide his face.  The old familiar thrill of the hunt was burning through his veins as he stalked his target.  A lone Guardsman in the out of the way south eastern tower near the gang controlled lands of westbridge.  If he botched this small part of the overall mission it would be easy to slip away into the violence ripe evening goings on of the ganglands.

With a trickle of magic the figure reduces his weight and begins climbing the wall up toward the guard station.  A piece of rock broke free of the wall and clattered away to the street below.  Vorcet held his breath as the rock clattered on the cobbles below.  No noise came from above for several minutes so he continued his climb.

At the top he peeked over the edge, with one hand he reached down and pulled a dagger from his waist and placed the blade in his teeth.  He poked his head around the side of the tower to get a look at the walkway atop the wall and make sure nobody else was about.  Guard had changed twenty minutes ago so the top of the wall was clear of people.  THe more populated guard tower to the north near the gates of the city could be seen in the flickering torchlight surrounding it.  With his magic enhanced vision he was able to pick out two guards there as well.

Vorcet slipped over the wall careful not to make any noise, careful to keep an eye on the tower to the north and slipped through the tower doors which had been stupidly left open.  The interior of the tower was lit with a single torch.  Long shadows swept accross the room and danced with the torchlight as Vorcet slipped through headed for the narrow stairway leading to the roof where his target would be watching for invasion from outside the walls. 

Vorcet pulled off the cloak covering his vectorian uniform and wove a beguiling spell. He felt the magic cling to his skin with a slight tingling sensation.  He put the dagger in his belt and wove a second spell.  He felt the magic tighten around his vocal cords, effectively changing his voice into one he had heard earlier.

"Is'Kal, get down here for a moment!" Vorcet called up the stairs attempting to mimic The guard captain's gruff speech.  "Watch change isnt for another four hours Rhay. What in the Nine Hells do you want?"  The guard called back with an obvious level of annoyance in his tone.  Regardless of the argument Is'Kal started decending the stairs. Seeing his guard captain in his watch tower the guard sighed and raised his hands in a mock display of innocence. "What could you possibly want at this hour?"  He came closer to vorcet and when he was within range Vorcet moved swiftly slipped around behind him and slipped one hand over the guard's mouth and with the other slid his dagger into the exposed hole in the man's armpit.  the guard issued a little gasp of pain as his life started to leave him.

"What I want my friend."  Whispered vorcet into his ear, "Is your face.

Contemplation lost in Misery

The merciless assault assailed her senses as it always did when she was summoned. The sounds nearby drowned out into a dull mumble as the  sounds from her destination became a roar in her ears. The air before  her began to distort and flicker and new surroundings began to form in  the place of the old. Then came the sadness, She felt him, he who cared  for her, as he cried out in his soul, make a desperate last grab to hold  her to him as he always did, then he was gone, only the memory of his  melancholy expression as Lyvinnia was left to sit in the darkness of the  small wooden cupboard in her mothers chambers.

She didn't pray for her father to come and find her, Her mother had  spent every waking hour informing Lyvinnia that he didn't want her. He  wanted his other family. The only thing Lyvinnia even had of him was his  name, as a bastard she wasnt allowed her mothers. She pondered  sometimes why she even had these thoughts, understood what she did,  When she could barely put her feet together and walk. The small girl  looked down to the already mottled black legs and wondered when she  would learn to walk, It certainly would make her mother less angry.

Her mothers voice came to her like nails on a chalkboard as she heard  her approach, quickly the small girl curled into a ball in the darkest  corner and feigned sleeping, with luck she would just go away.