Bacohl had begun his journey the next evening, when it began to near dusk.  He departed towards the northwest cutting through the savannah area.  He was careful to avoid the prides of lions lurking in the area.  A rare black lion called Humar the Pridelord was well known for hunting and killing the unwary in this area, but it was a risk he had to take.  He was wearing a tan and light green ghillie suit to blend in with the surroundings as best he could.<br/><br/>The day finally faded into night.  Fortunately, he had planned correctly.  The sky was clear and the moon was full, allowing him to see far into the night.  Most of the animals were asleep now, so he could move at a slightly quicker pace.<br/><br/>Before dawn, he arrived at his destination...the Lushwater Oasis.  According to the mages, there was something off about the place.  He really didn't know much about it, but the Horde's fel magic users tended to come here for research according to SI:7.  In any case, he needed sometime to rest.  The Horde had cleared the area of the local centaurs, so the oasis was relatively safe for some quick sleep.  he had adapted that he could snatch a decent night's rest with only an hour or so of uninterrupted sleep.  He surveyed the area and found an elevated rocky knoll, covered with grass, moss and trees.  The layout was perfect for not being seen.  He made his way up, settled in as not to be seen and dozed.<br/><br/>He had slept for approximately a few hours when he woke with a start.  He rubbed his eyes a bit and looked about.  He did not woke him at first, and then realized it was the sound of footsteps in moist ground.  He turned to see his quarry.  An emaciated black human shape with stringy blue hair was looking about and collecting mushrooms and moss fromt he ground.  Mayfair had arrived as the intel had said.  He looked about and saw no guards.  "Was it going to be this easy?" he thought.<br/><br/>Bacohl continued to watch Mayfair.  He had taken time to survey and now realized that he was now alone.  No guards with him.  He had gotten overconfident.  SI:7 had not been very specific about whether to kill him or not.  "This is personal..."he thought and began to sneak behind him.  Mayfair was a mage of no small power.  One wrong move could get him burned or frozen to death at the hands of his magic.  Still, if he caught him by surprise, he could win.<br/><br/>Bacohl silently snuck close, unsheathing a pair of wicked daggers.  Mayfair was delighting in his reagent gathering, like a child in a sweet store.  He would be taken completely by surprise.  He continued to skulk up...closer...closer...and then he STRUCK.  The Forsaken were harder to kill with deathblows due to their undead nature, but they still had some vital organs.  Bacohl buried one dagger in his back aiming towards his heart.  Before he could place the other Mayfair spun about.  He was badly hurt but not dead.  He blinked away.  "Nice to see you, worm," he taunted," I thought I sensed a familiar stink.  I was looking for a good lab rat anyway..." At that a shard of ice came from the trees, Bacohl dodging it at the last second.  Bacohl knew where he was.  He dashed to his right back into tree cover.  "Lab rat, huh? See if you can catch me this time!" He continued circling and doubling back.  He could hear Mayfair stumbling about.  He was agitated and therefore careless.  "Human scum! I'll make you wish for death!" he yelled.  Bingo.  Bacohl hid behind a tree and drew his bow and arrow.  In one smooth motion he fired, landing a mark in the middle of his spine.  Mayfair yelled in pain, but before he could react, Bacohl had moved again.  A blast of ice found no mark.  He continued moving, pulling out his other dagger.  Mayfair was scared, turning this way and that but not seeing him anywhere.  He expended his magic power, shooting ice everywhere in fear.  Bacohl shielded himself behind a tree, waiting for him to expend his power.  "Argh! Come out, you coward!" he screamed.  He was growing weaker and more frightened.  Time for the kill.  Bacohl unsheathed his other dagger again and picked up a rock.  He tossed it to his right while dashing to the left.  The rock impacted and Mayfair turned, using what little remained of his power on a distraction.  Bacohl was on him before he could realize his mistake.  He rammed his blade into his neck and grabbed him by the hair, snapping his spine over the blade with a sickening crack.<br/><br/>"See you in hell, you bastard," Bacohl said to his dead (again) opponent, "Now to collect my prize." He took the Royal Apothecary Sigil off his neck and pocketed it quick.  He gathered up his weapons and returned them to their sheathes.  Finally, he rummaged through his pack and found a worn, leatherbound tome.  "That's mine!" a voice screamed behind him as a long piece of crystal embedded in his shoulder.  Bacohl screamed in pain.  He turned to see that beyond all the odds, Mayfair still lived.  Had he played possum or had he simply been too stubborn to die? "Damn it, urgh, stay dead already!" Bacohl yelled.  In a scream of rage, Bacohl unsheathed his two daggers and leapt upon him.  Mayfair countered with a spray of slashing ice crystals, which lacerated his flesh all over his arms and legs.  Blood was leaking through his suit now from many wounds.  Through raw adrenaline, Bacohl leaped on him and buried one dagger in the back of his throat, while jamming the other repeatedly into his chest cavity.  "Die, you bastard!" he screamed.  He stabbed for five minutes until Mayfair was still.  Bacohl sheathed his weapons.  "Ugh..." the pain was now beginning to set in.  The sharp ice had lacerated him everywhere.  "Maybe...this is it..." he staggered for a bit and then passed out.