Flitting through the narrow back-alleyways with soundless, cautious steps, he took note to keep himself clocked in the shadows cast from the faint moonlight. Even from afar, Elrik Karne could tell that a great party was underway. The nocturnal breeze that caressed his face carried with it the discordant sounds of people talking mingled with an undertone of titillating music. Even through his shemagh he could smell the heady scents and perfumes of the rich and the sweet, savory aroma of food; the usual redolence that comes with a great party. It contrasted greatly from the stench of the alleyway and Elrik wrinkled his nose at a particularly offensive stink as he neared his destination. Stopping in the shadows of another structure just two buildings shy of the targeted mansion, he took out a short hollowed bamboo that resembled a flute. Careful that he won't cause a light reflection, he slotted in a polished shard of crystal into one of the holes and adjusted it as he peered through it. 

His vision magnified by crystal, Elrik scoped out his targeted area, taking note of the usual armed guards placements and their patrol routes before turning his seasoned eye upon the invited guests, comparing a few of them before picking out a lone obese man with a weak-looking face, covered in great swaths of cloth with a thick, flowing embroidered robe that would not be out of place on the shoulders of royalty. Nodding to himself, he made a mental map of possible locations the obese guest would head to; the insides of the mansion already familiar to him as he had wandered in under the guise of a monk begging for alms a few days before the party. Next, he turned his attention to the rooftops and vantage points, picking out any abbreviations and oddities that caught his eye as well as observing the shadows for movement. He squinted at a particularly suspicious-looking stone figure, noting the lack of any other stone statues but not entirely discrediting the notion that it might just merely be a decoration. 

Retreating further into the shadows, he looked at the moon. It was almost time. Elrik had taken great efforts in hiring a middleman to hire some local assassins and thieves as bait to lure out any security surprises that might be in store for him. The thieves had went in earlier in the evening and failed badly, their poor disguises all too easily discovered by the wary guardsmen and swiftly escorted away without raising a fuss. Elrik respected their efficiency. They handled the situation well enough that maybe none of the guests found out about the incident except for the mansion's owner. But they would glean no information from them, he made sure of that. Slow acting poisons had been slipped into their drinks earlier in the morning, the two would die of different causes at different times, both poisons nearly undetectable once fully absorbed into the body. As for the assassins...

Aah, there they are. Slightly late, but it mattered not, his speed could always make up for the lost time. Atch, the poor fools were heading towards the mansion without a whiff of concern for subtlety or caution, so openly did they run towards their target. Again, it mattered not, Their deaths would be prove to be the perfect distraction for his entry, and even if captured, well...there are no loose ends. Elrik had not taken the liberty of poisoning them as he did with the thieves, but he did eliminate their employer and carefully planted evidence that would suggest a rivalry gone bad. After all, Elrik Karne is nothing but meticulous. 

He made his move once he saw the 'stone figure' turn and start towards the approaching duo, his mind racing as he adjusted the memorized guard patrols, positions and travel route for his entry, his strides bringing him quickly to the mansion's front door even as he clung to the shadows as a petulant kid would cling to his favourite toy. The music inside the mansion had stopped and there was the splattering sound of applause, but Elrik was not overly concerned; the music seldom stopped for long in parties such as this one. Pulling the hood of his cloak further down but removing his shemagh, he instantly assumed a very natural walking stance as he followed a fresh group of guests, slipping from one to another whist timing the gazes of the guardsmen positioned there, carefully ensuring that he was carefully hidden by their backs. By now, some of the guests noticed him and were giving him weird looks and it wasn't long before someone would raise an alarm. Yet, just like clockwork, the pieces moved according to plan. Just as one of the guards consulted his list to for a guest's name, he reached his target, the obese man with the royalty robe. The music started again, this time a raunchier, bawdy tune more commonly heard around campfires than in high societal parties. Just in time.

Unnoticed and unseen, Elrik swiftly striked, his attack a mere blur to any who were watching intently. The entry and exit of the cold, unforgiving metal was so neat that no blood was spilled and nigh undetectable with the voluminous folds of the lard on the man and even though the wound was very shallow, the poisoned blade did the trick. Almost immediately, the man shrieked and gasped, the poison working through his system. The guards came barreling their way though the screaming and shouting crowd to the source of commotion as the man collapsed onto the floor, frothing at the mouth, his eyes turned so far back that only the whites showed. It would seem the music and whatever performance they had going on inside managed to keep them from hearing the ruckus outside; no sounds of alarm and no screaming came from the inside. Elrik, who had blended into the crowd immediately after he struck, came forward and shouted at the guards as he moved to help the fat man up to his feet. [i]"Quickly! He'd had a stroke, the poor man! Help me bring him inside!"[/i] The guards looked warily at him, exchanging doubtful glances among themselves. Elrik, the very image of an impatient and concerned man, shouted at them again. [i]"Hurry you fools! Least he dies out here! Do you want to be responsible for his death? Hurry! I can't carry him myself!"[/i]

Perhaps it was the threat of being responsible for the fat person's death or perhaps it was from Elrik's shouting, a few of the guards complied and together with much huffing and puffing, managed to drag the dying man inside the mansion as the remaining guards attempted to placate the guests queuing outside. As if it was the most natural thing to do, Elrik coolly peeled off the group upon entering the mansion, but not without relieving the dying man of his similarly obese coin pouch before headed off to the servant quarters for a change of guise, carefully avoiding the shuttling servants as they did so him, his mind swirling in anticipation of the riches that he might loot from tonight's plunder.