The shadow elf slipped silently through the thick forest in pursuit of his target. This wood elf was particularly adept at concealment himself, but then that was to be expected if he actually was who the shadow elf believed him to be. Keeping his tracks masked, his magical presence suppressed and his form invisible in the shadows of the trees – he also kept his distance and used the plentiful cover effectively. As he had learnt during the previous war for Erathil's glory, there is always a way to see through any form of magical concealment. If this was indeed the traitorous brother of his lord that he was following, then he would not put it past him to have techniques in that area of which even his brother is unaware. Of course, the shadow elf reminded himself, all of his subordinates would have probably been spotted by now – they are good, but not this good. One didn't become a General easily, and it wasn't often that generals were sent out to do tasks themselves.
Danahil approached the rendezvous carefully, he hadn't had that much contact with this particular group of his people before. Their leader – a druid called Menerali, was rumoured to be a cautious soul who although having no love for Erathil was unwilling to take what he believed to be too many chances in aiding the resistance. Danahil was here to try to convince the other wood elf that he and his band of rangers and marksmen should join, and that they would be safer with the resistance than trying to weather Erathil's dominion alone. He spotted the sentries, relatively well concealed in trees around the clearing. Good, Menerali and his men were already here. Taking a deep breath, and putting on his best diplomatic face, he allowed himself to be spotted by the nearest sentry and made his way into the clearing.
The shadow elf had also spotted the sentries, including one of them that had chosen a tree rather apart from the others. Fool, he thought to himself, as he made his way to the tree, maintaining his shroud and keeping out of line of sight from the group of wood-elves. His target had been greeted by one of the other sentries and was being directed into the clearing – his patience had paid off – it was indeed Danahil. Unfortunately, he only had orders to follow and observe - Erathil wanted his brother's death to be a public affair, or at least a personal one. Either way, his orders were to track and locate as much of the nest of traitors as possible, then to help his lord and the other generals plan a campaign that would effectively eradicate the threat. Choosing his moment carefully, he climbed the tree and silently inserted his favourite pair of daggers into the back of the unsuspecting sentry. Covering the fellow's mouth to stifle any sound he might make, the shadow elf made certain he was dead by twisting his neck just so, then leaning the body against the tree in a similar position as the elf had taken whilst alive. Only now, there was a shadow elf hiding behind him. Incanting quietly under his breath, the shadow elf slipped back into the shadows and settled down to watch the clearing.
Danahil watched Menerali approach and greeted him warmly. The two were soon having a quiet debate. It quickly became clear that although Menerali's position had not changed, enough of his men felt they should be doing more against Erathil that the druid had felt it was time to investigate links with Clandestine. During the course of the conversation, Menerali happened mention that he is a distant decendant of Danahil's – and invited him to spend the night with the band in their temporary camp.
The shadow elf became aware that they were moving off, and that the death of the sentry would soon be discovered. He climbed down the tree and put some distance between himself and the clearing with a pre-prepared contingency shadow-shift. However, it took time to return stealthily, and when he returned to the clearing he was unable to find tracks for the band of wood elves, just a slight lingering taste of meta magic hanging in the centre of the clearing.
Elsewhere, the Clandestine agent took his hand off the dagger. Deevron and his ritual team had worked hard for several days after its recovery from where it had been cached. As his senses returned to his own body, he murmured to himself “Interesting.”.
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