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Gandalf The Grey or Usidore The Blue? I have my suspicions that they may be one and the same. Could this be yet another unrevealed secret name? Perhaps one of such immense power and portent that to acknowledge it could bring about the end of existence as we know it.
Victor sat upon the sagging bed, palms pressing upon his eyes and his long fingers threaded through the short bristle of his scrubby hair. His temples pounded, and he could not will away the qualm roiling in the pit of his stomach. He was right. He was trying to restore justice. Why was this wretched woman being so ungrateful, and why could he not dismiss her from his mind? Why did he bother with her at all?
A few minutes after Walburga had stormed out, there was a rap at Victor’s door. An apology? He wasn’t sure he was ready to forgive quite yet, but a confused part of him was desperate to see her. He would set the parameters for amends, and perhaps he would consider receiving her aid once more. Victor imagined her downcast eyes, her thick lashes sweeping her tear-stained cheeks, hands folded in supplication and a soft song of contrition falling from her lips. He leapt to the door and opened it to instead find Klaus the innkeeper.
“Uh…Sir?” Klaus started tentatively. “I apologize if I am interrupting anything, but a gentleman has just arrived and is very insistent that he speak with you.”
It took a moment for Klaus’ presence to sink in. “Ah, right. Yes. Thank you.”
Victor followed the innkeeper back to the common room, where three out of Victor’s four comrades sat chatting with a cloaked man. The man rose and slipped the hood from his cloak, nodding to Victor.
“It is good to see you, Lohner,” Victor hailed. “I am amazed to see you here so soon! I only sent the message a few days ago.”
Franz Lohner smiled. “An assist from my friends.”
He gestured toward a shadowy table in the far corner of the room. Upon being acknowledged, a dark veil seemed to lift from the table, revealing a group of solemn-faced men and women, all draped in charcoal-colored robes.
“I’m afraid Olesya has returned to Kislev to serve in the Tsarina’s court. However, when I explained your situation to my contacts in the Grey Order, they were very concerned and wished to investigate sooner rather than later.” Lohner spread his hands as if helpless. “So here we are.”“Resourceful as always,” Victor replied. “I appreciate your timely response. It seems that this mission has been simple on the surface, but has proven to be positively labyrinthine underneath. Come.” Victor started for the exit. “I think we need to speak with Captain Weber.”
Upon entering the chapterhouse, Victor was met by a nervous-looking apprentice bearing a note.
Dearest Victor,
I hate to ask a favor, but I need your help. It is my wish to discuss something of great importance with you, and would only do so in person, and in private, where my meaning can be plain. I shall be waiting with baited breath until I receive your response.
Yours, Gretchen
Victor smirked. Perfect. Several half-formed plans began to take shape in his head, but he decided to wait to discuss them with Lohner and Johann before settling upon any particular one. Johann opened his door to find Victor and Lohner waiting expectantly.
“Franz!” Johann grinned, squeezing the man into a fervent hug. “Sigmar’s teeth, how long has it been?”
Lohner returned the embrace with equal enthusiasm. “Marienburg, was it? At any rate, far too long. I believe we both still had full, and I must say, impressive, heads of hair at that point.”
Johann smiled wistfully. “Indeed. Though I must say that your mustache has fared particularly well.” He pulled back to better examine Lohner. “This is a breath of fresh air, I must say. Come.” Johann finally released the man, inviting Lohner and Victor into his office.. “We have much to discuss. Allow me to bring you up to speed.”
*
Two hours later, Victor emerged from Johann’s office alone, with a solid plan, but without the information weighing heavily on his mind. To add to Victor’s impatience, Lohner and Johann had wished to continue their conversation privately, and thus dismissed Victor like a garrulous child at dinner. Victor tried not let it irk him, but wandered outside fuming nonetheless.
The streets were empty, and the sultry night air hummed with the song of crickets. The lamplight glowed upon the cobblestones. Victor meandered vaguely toward the market, his footsteps echoing in the empty streets. He stopped some distance from the bakery, transfixed by the orange light in the window. She wouldn’t let me. Why wouldn’t his mother have let Walburga treat her? Was it because she had been young and inexperienced, and she would have preferred the official town physician? Was it…
“There you are, One-Eye.” Victor nearly jumped out of his skin as Kerillian approached. “I never catch you with the others at the Inn.”
“And you are never available when I am debriefing everyone!” Victor groused. “It would simplify matters greatly.”
“If I were, I wouldn’t have caught your sweetheart riding into the woods to chat with your fellow hunters,” Kerillian replied.
“My sweetheart…” Victor’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why on earth was Walburga in the woods?”
“Who in Kurnous’ name is Walburga?” Kerillian laughed. “The rich man’s daughter was the rider! She tried to invite the guards to a party. A credit to your men, they refused. Then she hid a few yards away and conjured some wolves to try and frighten the hunters. The wolves were good, the plan…not so much. Your men didn’t budge.” Kerillian smirked. “You did know she was a Grey Mage, did you not?”
“I did, thank you very much,” Victor replied dryly. “Now if only you could be present for our meetings, we could…”
“Wait, is Walburga the fat baker?” Kerillian teased. “Is that why you’re out here in the middle of the market by your lonesome? By Loren, you’re mooning! Oh, this is rich, I must tell Sienna!”
“I AM NOT MOON-“ Victor halted when he heard the echo of his voice sound from the walls of the surrounding buildings.
“By Sigmar, you’re as bad as the Witch,” Victor grumbled quietly. “I was patrolling, and it seems that the town is currently secure. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must review my notes for tomorrow.”
“Oh, indeed, One-Eye,” Kerillian snickered. “Try not to enchant any more women along the way. You’ll have a harem by the end of the week.”
Victor stomped back toward the chapterhouse, grumbling all the while. Fine, he thought. Tomorrow is the beginning of the end. As soon as it did, he would put as much space between him and this Sigmar-forsaken town as he possibly could.
*
The following day, Victor sat in his usual chamber at the inn, brimful of tension and excitement. He tapped his fingers in various patterns upon his desk, trying to release the nervous energy simmering in his limbs.
Victor leapt to the door upon hearing a certain light tap and opened the door, seeing no one. He felt a caress upon his shoulder, and Victor moved to make space. When he felt the hand slip around to the small of his back, he closed the door.
“I was going to ask if anyone had seen your approach,” Victor remarked. “But I suppose I have my answer.”
The air shimmered; revealing a small, grey-cloaked figure. Gretchen unclasped the cape and allowed it to slide to the floor, puddling in a silken ripple at her feet. Her gown was scandalously low-cut, slashed with lace to reveal as much of her pink flesh as possible. Her blonde mane was very carefully tousled, half-unbound to fall past her bare shoulders. She slinked over to the bed and sat, her eyes plaintive, her lips curled into a coy moue.
“I’ve been thinking about you ever since the party,” Gretchen cooed. “It’s been very hard to sleep.”
“Well,” Victor replied. “This is a lovely thing to hear. I must admit that you have been on my mind as well.”
“Have I?” Gretchen’s voice lowered, became husky. “That delights me greatly.” She paused to sigh sadly. “I have needed that lift for my spirits, as things have become very difficult. Victor, I need your help.”
“Do you, my dear?” Victor controlled the excitement in his voice. “You know that I can deny you nothing.”
“I hope that is true,” Gretchen replied. “For I have a great favor to ask. I assure you, though, that I will provide compensation adequate to what I ask of you.”
She toyed with the laces on her bodice, tugging gently enough to loosen them slightly, but not altogether.
“Please tell me. I promise that I can give you whatever you need,” Victor assured her.
“Well,” Gretchen began, “it’s just that…”
“Oh Victor, my father has asked something terrible of me.” She burst into very convincing-looking tears. “As you can see, I have certain skills. From time to time, I help my family with certain tasks, and we benefit financially. In turn, we donate to our local Orders to give back.”
“Very generous of you,” Victor replied gently. “But I cannot imagine that you could do anything too terrible to counteract such noble actions, especially as a representative of the noble Grey Order.”
“Right.” Gretchen squirmed. “And you are correct. It is not too terrible, but I still cannot speak openly of it. There is a small patch of land in the forest north of town that I have spelled. It is harmless, but at the moment Captain Weber’s men have taken notice of it and are standing guard around the area. Now, the Falkenrath family has donated several fortunes to the Senden Order alone. We only wish that our business interests be allowed to flourish undisturbed.”
“But,” Victor inquired. “Why would the Falkenraths need to conceal their business interests? Your father is an honorable man. I cannot imagine why he would hide his dealings in the forest.”
“Yes,” Gretchen replied uneasily. “And that is why I did not question why my father asked that I would enchant that area, and why I do not question why my father needs your men to move on. So, please…I beg of you.” She stood up to take Victor’s hand. “It is such a small matter, Victor…” Gretchen led him back to the bed. “And I can offer such a great reward.”
“You already have, Gretchen,” Victor grinned, raising his free hand and snapping his fingers. “I believe that counts as a confession.”
There was a rustling all about the chamber. Five grey wizards cast off their cloaks, revealing five witch hunters standing with them, including Captain Johann Weber.
“Yes,” Johann said. “It most certainly does.”
One of the grey wizards, a gimlet-eyed older woman with a ragged nest of red hair, stepped forward and pointed at Gretchen. ‘Well then, Lady von Biernbaum. I see you’ve been learning on your own.”
“Victor!” It seemed as if all of the blood drained from Gretchen’s face. She gathered her gown around her. “You ugly son of a bitch, what the hell have you done?”
“So, Magister Diebenkorn, is Lady von Biernbaum a member of your Order?” Johann asked.
“She most certainly is not!” The redhead replied. “Applied, certainly, but I decided that while she had a certain amount of talent, she lacked the discipline and, frankly, basic common sense to be accepted into our ranks.”
“You’re wrong!” Gretchen hissed. “I would have been great. I am great!” She swirled her hands into circular gestures, muttering something under her breath.
Diebenkorn waved her hand, knocking Gretchen back onto the bed and shattering whatever the young woman was casting. Diebenkorn chanted something quickly, and Gretchen’s body went rigid, as if she were bound by invisible iron bands.
“Case in point,” Diebenkorn continued, gesturing to the other wizard. “We’d better get this one back to Altdorf.”
“Hold on a moment!” Johann countered. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of an investigation!”
“And you will get your information, but we will do the questioning,” Diebenkorn replied archly. “This one is of our jurisdiction and will face our justice. Do not worry, we will dismantle any sorcery she has inflicted upon this town immediately, but she is our responsibility.”
Gretchen thrashed against her invisible bindings, her eyes rolling with terror and rage. She seemed to scream at the top of her lungs, the cords of her neck tense and her face nearly purple, but no sound emerged.
Johann glared at Diebenkorn. “Fine. I want a full report as soon as you get it, and I want to be sure that she faces the full sentence for her crimes against this town.”
“Oh, she will,” Diebenkorn’s brown eyes glittered nastily. “We do not take kindly to illegal practitioners of our art. Come!” She snapped her fingers, and the other wizards stood at attention. “Let us find out what this creature has wrought.”
The wizards converged upon Gretchen and hauled her out of the room. Magister Diebenkorn lingered behind, turning to Victor.
“I have to thank you for this tip,” she said. “With her lack of proper training, this one could have done some real damage.”
“It is my job,” Victor replied loftily. “I only hope that you undo whatever devilry she has inflicted upon Senden, and I expect that, considering the Order did alert you to her wrongdoing, you will deliver the information we need promptly.”
“Of course, Captain.” Diebenkorn nodded patiently. “We will give you three hours before we break the illusions. Good afternoon.”
After the mages departed, Johann addressed the remaining hunters. “I hope that you are seeing the Falkenrath family with clear eyes. We cannot allow ourselves to be influenced by wealth or favor any longer. I understand that this is a difficult lesson to learn, but one that is necessary. Now.” Johann took a deep breath. “Are you ready to arrest the remaining Falkenraths?”
The hunters to a one (save Victor) paled, but agreed. Johann sent them away to execute the order.
Once they left, Johann turned to Victor. “Once that spell drops, we should have warriors available to meet whatever that uncovers.”
Victor nodded. “I believe that I and my companions will be ample defense for any creatures hiding behind that veil. I will alert them immediately.”
“Do you think that they could handle it without you?” Johann asked.
Victor mused. “They have gone on missions without me before and were successful. Yes, I suppose they will be fine. Why?”
“Victor,” Johann smiled. “Do you honestly think I would hand over Gilbert Falkenrath’s interrogation to anyone else?”
Victor could not help but grin. “Oh, I will enjoy that! Thank you, Johann.”
“Right!” Johann said briskly. “We have done excellent work today. Let us go and…”
“Johann, wait,” Victor interrupted, and Johann halted.
“Yes, Victor?”
Victor didn’t know when he would get another chance, at least not for quite a while, and the question had burrowed into his brain like a particularly invasive weevil.
“I need to know, Johann,” Victor began. “How did my mother die?”
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
might try and upload some of my own art every now and again since i only have reblogs rn, but here is one of my friend's characters for a warhammer fantasy game we are starting today!!
After all these centuries why do you tie yourself to that whelp and her father? They are so close to human, insignificant broken things. Hasn't the brats grandfather proven that when he tried to take her life? They're weak, ungrateful and useless things. You can do better.
“All that has proven is the resilience of the human spirit. Centuries ago I committed an atrocity that wiped out my clan and ruined my own life. For over a thousand years, I carried that guilt and buried it beneath delusion and misguided cruelty, using my hatred as a conduit to try and make war upon an entire world,” she understood Goliath, now. Why doing just as she said was both foolish and senseless.
So she slammed the Grey Face against the wall, her taloned hands gripping their neck and lifting them up against it,
“I tie myself to her because I love her as I would my own daughter, and as for her father… never have I cared for a human so deeply as I do him. It is a Gargoyle’s duty to protect, and I have chosen. Who are you to question me as to what I do, or whom I love? They who look upon me not as a monster, but as a mother, a friend, a protector. That little girl has only ever touched me with kindness and smiled at me with love, and I will see to it that her smile remains until the day Macbeth finally ends my life,”
Well, her name's Natalie, and like Fox her grandmother is a child of Oberon, specifically Baba Yaga, the Witch of the Wilds, which makes her magic in turn. I've been playing around with the idea that Oberon, incensed by Baba Yaga having a child, cursed the child, Natalie's mother, to hate all magic innately, which uhh, is not fun. Natalie sort of plays the field of morality, making the best decisions for her, and is... So Tired.
Demona understands being So Tired™. Come off anon and we can maybe talk about it? As you can see, I’m rather OC friendly. XD
