Mountain Orc Shaman (Orcs)

The Human Captain entered the tent, sword in hand. The mystical flames encircled him, the smells making him dizzy, and the dim lighting ever more confused. He looked around too see where the Shaman was. He had come to kill him once and for all, for long enough had he bestowed death to his people. A good number of gold coins awaited him, a really good reward just for bringing an old Orc's head back to the Capital. What troubled him was the fact, that another 4 had previously tried to do the same, but none had returned. Yes, very scared of magic, but he had bought an amulet to protect him. One of the wise of the Wizard Council had sold it to him, all glowing blue. "Wear this to protect you from all evil magic. With it, you have nothing to fear..."

Yet, he now stood paralyzed, looking at the Shaman right in the face. His fingers were numb, his sword heavy, his feet stuck like roots in the ground. "The Wizard lied to me. This was worthless!" he said, almost in tears. The face before him altered slightly, displaying a silent change as cautiousness gave way to some sort of wicked pleasure. "Ah, so this is the reason the fumes didn't choke you", he muttered softly. A sharp, dark nail grazed the bottom of the trembling Captain's bearded, sweaty chin. "He didn't lie to you", the Shaman whispered with a low voice. "This talisman protects the bearer from Death Magic. However, it is useless against Arcane Magic." And the Captain heard this helplessly in disbelief, as the Shaman's deformed left hand moved toward the snake-leather belt around his waist to grab the rough-made dagger...