Subterfuge: Part 1 - Camouflage

Subterfuge: Part 1 - Camouflage

“Be not afraid of your own shadow or what may dwell in one, It is that which can hide in plain sight that wields true terror"

It itched, and that put the sensation lightly. Wet swamp mud that dry's in the sun itches, this was now an undeniable fact and had been noted from previous experience. Like a light gnawing sensation, on so many areas of skin, from neck to foot. But he couldn't move, he could only wait.

He'd been laying flat in this bush, among the mud and grass for the better half of the day. Since the early hours after midnight he had waited, unmoving and patient. Observation without detection demanded the upmost skill in concealment, this he knew from practice. Though each time he had learned something new, from the hours of mental turmoil through lack of movement, or the burning sensations that had over-taken his joints and bones through lack of use. He couldn't move, not a muscle or limb, not until darkness had once again descended over Dustwallow. Only when the true shadows of night had crept across the mire could he slip slowly from the bush and move on.

Absolute Stealth.

He repeated it in his mind, over and over. It was a phrase he had invented, to explain the idea of becoming so alike, integrated and melded to your environment that you truly became invisible through union with your surroundings. It was hard to achieve, but allowed unmatched advantages to the patient mind.

Everyone thought a 'sneaks' work was all about tight black leather and face masks, crawling along rooftops and throwing knives. The thoughts of a novice, the words of a romanticist, the actions of the short lived fool. Of course, he had his own pristine set of such equipment, made of the finest materials and wrapped in a panthers hide for storage no less, but here it was no use. Such things have a time and place, this was a muddy swamp, not a pitch black night.

Still it itched ,as did the leaves stuck to him, and the fragments of bark...

Discomfort is but the mind protesting, I need not move nor act upon it..

He told himself over, and over through the hours. He had been patient indeed, his silent vigil reaping some reward. Brackenwall village sat before him and below the hill. The ogres were no concern, their eyesight was poor and this patch of muddy ground was little trod.

The chieftain had been specific with his orders, entrusting him with a task he was above all best suited to. It filled his chest with a burning fire, knowing that his blood brother trusted him once more, even if it was to a limited degree. Regardless, it kept him going.

Not a sight, nor sound, only trudging ogres and crickets calling. .

He mused. The intended target was not present, he knew that much by now. They had likely moved on, seeking refuge and sanctuary elsewhere. It raised questions, important ones.

Why did they move? What reasons would compel them to move on? Did the Alliance push them out, or did their leader choose to be pro-active not reactive to threats? Did the ogres play a part in it? Had they found new prey further afield? Was it supplies or wounded?.

These thoughts rushed through his mind, small calculations and estimations considered and evaluated, assessed and stored for later. What he did know through sight alone, was that the village was back to its usual quiet and sombre state, but had not been savaged by Kor'kron, Alliance or any other party. These were things a true master of the shadows knew to consider.

Who, What, Where, When, How and most importantly above all else... Why.

It would be many hours yet before he could depart and pick up their trail, and no doubt it would be cold. But an inventive Orc knows that it is not a question of 'if', but of 'when' via ' how. No doubt his goblin friend would have some news, but the hunters hill was a day away, and the little thief would be too eager to extort him. then again, disguises always helped when feigning light ignorance... he could at least decrease the amount he'd get robbed by if he wore the warlock robes and hood. Though, these were thoughts for later, for now he concentrated on the task, patience in hand.

Patience.