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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ciaran" data-source="post: 472613" data-attributes="member: 756">Shou Ren draws back his left sleeve, revealing a sticklike arm covered with unhealthy-looking yellowish skin.  With quick, precise gestures, he draws a dagger in his right hand and slashes his exposed arm.  Blood dribbles down onto the dry earth at his feet.  Thrusting the blade into the puddle of blood, he scoops up the blood-soaked dirt around it with both hands.  Dull pink light flickers through his fingers as he chants in an unknown tongue.  Then he opens his hands.A shimmering wave of distorted light spills from his hands.  Everything it touches shimmers, vibrates, and divides, not once, but a hundred times.  A hundred Shou Rens, a hundred Rinis, a thousand skeletal servants and zombie porters and furred and feathered creatures appear, glistening, all shimmering and shifting and superimposed one upon the other, forming an impenetrable labyrinth of illusion.One hundred Shou Rens lean forward to pluck one hundred knives from the bloody earth.  One hundred bloodstained knives leap from one hundred hands.  And as one hundred voices lift in unearthly harmony from behind one hundred masks, those one hundred knives twist and writhe in midair, transforming into one hundred sleek phantom tigers.  With a chorus of roars, the phantasmal pack dashes across the plains that now lie broken and ruined by the Bright Necromancer’s magics, seeking to sate their terrible hunger with the Necromancer’s blood and flesh.  But which tigers are real, and which are naught but illusion?The tiger assaults the badlands; guards against the foray of the maze!</blockquote>

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