1 - The Pipe.
Thankfully Reinforcement is a basic know-how, and yeah, in the matters of zombie combat, range is key.
1 - The Pipe.
Thankfully Reinforcement is a basic know-how, and yeah, in the matters of zombie combat, range is key.
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
Well that kinda worked.
3 - The Knife.
Feel it might be easier for her to use?
1 - The Pipe
Good Ol' Plumbery implements
Originally Posted by Faux, July 20th 2019
True Rider
1. Definitely the pipe. Range and ease of use.
Last edited by zikari8; April 3rd, 2020 at 01:03 AM.
The pipe is 1, though.
Oops, mistype.
Fixed
1 - Pipe time!
Quest of Fate
Apocrypha Universe Fate Quest Project
---
Beast's Lair Discord Server For Fate Quests
Hermes Servant Collection Master Post
Location: Clock Tower Tunnels
Time: 13:45
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Tired
Magic Circuits: Unlocked
Magus Profile!
Inventory!
Day 0 - The Tower 5
Copper, from blood she couldn’t see, and bile, from the spittle on her lips, sent a shudder of disgust up her spine. Dolores had been vomiting a lot recently. But this was getting absurd.
That did nothing for the cloying stench of rotting death or human waste shambling towards her.
Stepping to the side, she slowly circled around the creature, ignoring its grasphing, hungry fingers. And then something happened. She wasn’t sure what it was, but, seeing the splatter of filth she’d puked up, the thing went feral. Roaring and screeching and flailing about it clipped her and Dolores almost cried out when rotting knuckles slammed into her face.
Pulling Suibhne into her chest, she hit the ground on her back, air being knocked out of her lungs, but managed to protect her partner. Scuttling backwards she pressed up against the wall as the undead freak continued its frenzied search. All she could think was how that accidental blow was far, far too strong for a normal human to manage. Especially not when it wasn’t even trying to hit her.
Eventually, a minute or two later, it had calmed. Now it was pacing, angrily, in the doorway.
There was no way she was getting past.
Nursing her bruised jaw, Dolores, carefully, sat Suibhne down. Evaluating her options, she eventually picked up the length of pipe, perhaps two feet long and heavy at the far end, and took a deep breath.
Her movements were steady and slow, both hands clutching firmly at the end of the pipe as she analyzed the situation.
The zombie was clearly not just a reanimated corpse like a common familiar, it had instincts of a sort, and a force of some kind animated it. Not quite a soul of its own, but perhaps a basic spirit had been shoved inside the empty vessel, barely animating it.
If that was the case, then it had to move using simple impressions and the innate extrasensory perception of a spirit. Especially if it was a simple one shove inside a corpse.
That’s why it wasn’t reacting to the pipe’s movement. There wasn’t any magic energy in it so it appeared just as part of the background to the zombie. Her using the ring of concealment hid her body’s innate energy, making her virtually invisible as well. The only reason it had attacked was because it had smelled her vomit.
Which meant she was rather fortunate to have picked up the Ring of Concealment from those hired mercs early on.
Who knows what might have happened to her?
‘But that’s good. If they can’t see me, it means I can sneak past them without being noticed.’
Which lead to a more immediate problem. The corpse guarding the entrance to the room.
She couldn’t sneak past it, not with that little wiggle room. A distraction might work, but if it went feral again it might just kill her. No… it was time for violence. Sudden, intense violence of the kind that made men go grey in disgust.
Hefting the pipe, Dolore approached her victim slowly and deliberately. Taking a wide stance, she brought the length of metal up and to the side, like she was playing baseball, and swung it with every ounce of strength in her tiny frame.
There was no way her small frame would be able to hurt an animated corpse though.
That’s when things got… interesting.
The Soul is the Key to the Lock
Her magical circuits flared to life, energy coursing through them in a rush of power, sending sparks through her body as she focused on the flow of od, directing the stream down her arm and into the pipe.
Filling the gaps.
Increasing its basic foundation.
Reinforcing it.
For a born and bred practitioner, the act of imbuing an object with mana was a simple procedure, basic to the point that only an idiot or a complete amateur would be able to mess it up.
Unfortunately, that was what she, essentially, was. This metal pipe had just become a sturdier, stronger metal pipe and when it slammed into the thing’s skull she gasped as a shock reverberated up her arms. It was so intense she almost dropped her weapon, but, just barely, she kept ahold of her tool and used the momentum to take a step back and lash out again.
Fortunately, the spirit seemed to struggle to move, her first strike likely destroying much of the corpse’s brain, while her second strike came down in a similar spot.
This time, the skull fully caved in, the head of the pipe making a wet sucking noise when she pulled it out. Again she lashed out, splattering half rotten brain slurry across the cold, cement ground. And again and again and again she struck. Eventually, the twitching mostly stopped, the spirit trying to animate the body but incapable of controlling individual nerves with any real skill.
Dolores blinked tears out of her eyes and tried to forget the feeling of bone and brain being crushed under her blows. Of the sound and smell of the thing’s head popping. She couldn’t quite stop herself from looking down at the ruin she’d created.
It was… pulpy.
She whimpered.
This time, she didn’t vomit. Instead, she picked Suibhne up with one hand and kept walking. It was time to move and she couldn’t stand the sickly sweet smell of rot any longer.
Moving back down the tunnel, Dolores took advantage of her concealed nature.
If the zombies couldn’t see her, then they wouldn’t react to her, and as she was much smaller than them, that meant she could circle around them easily, so long as she avoided touching them. The ring of concealment only protected her from being seen through mundane and supernatural means, it would do nothing if she tripped over one of them.
She weaved in and out of the tunnels, pipe clenched tightly against her body as she tiptoed her way around the undead.
The first Zombie had heard her, so she’d rather not give her presence away.
She kept her body low, head ducked to make herself even smaller.
A small target was not easily caught.
And the even footing of the tunnels meant there was little risk of her triping.
The zombies weren’t particularly clever, allowing her to pass through them without a second though, and before long she’d moved past them and back into the tunnel leading back to the Clock Tower. The magic energy in the air was thinner, the bounded field becoming less oppressive as she moved away from the storage area and the number of undead grew smaller and that strange child-like spirit hadn’t seen fit to make another appearance.
Much to her good fortune it seemed.
As if to prove her wrong, she then found the exit to the sewers, a large chamber leading back downwards, unfortunately it was being blocked by a bounded field as well as a guard.
A very intimidating guard.
Standing about two meters tall, it was clear that the mostly humanoid man was unnatural. A homunculus, most likely, judging by his unnaturally tall, unnaturally thin body, deathly pale skin and red eyes. All six of them. The second pair of arms, completed with bulging muscles, didn’t help either.
‘At least it’s not armed.’
The irony of that thought did not escape her.
Slowly, she inched towards the chamber with careful steps. Eyes peeled off as they stared down the mostly immobile creature. There was little doubt in her mind that it would attack as soon as it noticed something was off, a clear custom job meant to be used for combat.
Dolores entered the room, and felt a jolt run through her back, something clicking in place as a bounded field came alive, a familiar sensation filling her mind.
‘This… is one of Teacher’s designs!’
A simple detection trap meant to warn the user. In concept as simple as a tripwire. Why was something like this out here underground of all places? Had her teacher helped make the detection system leading down from the Clock Tower?
It was a possibility.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Dolores adjusted her stance. Her magic crest had been modified by her Teacher so that it served as a ‘password’ of sorts. Keying her to the man's particular brand of bounded fields to make sure she wasn’t hurt by whatever safety locks the older magus had left behind.
The homunculus, however, wouldn’t differentiate her from an intruder.
Not helping was the fact that the tunnels were full of undead.
‘One of them will get here sooner or later. I won’t be able to escape if I’m surrounded.’
She needed to make a choice, and fast.
Choice Time - Combat
Congratulations! You have arrived at the Combat Tutorial!
In Blumenkrieg, Dolores will often see herself pressed against the wall. She cannot afford to run forever and now must come face to face with something she cannot trick or easily defeat. These encounters will require the readers to settle for a strategy, and based on this strategy, will be granted different combat options as the fight progresses. Each option is classified based on a set of yet unknown requirements and variables. Selecting one over the other might make save Dolores or get her killed.
As always, choose wisely!
Last edited by Wyvern; April 4th, 2020 at 04:11 PM.
QUICK
QUICK
Last edited by Half-Blood Master; April 4th, 2020 at 07:11 PM.
True Rider
Quick
Gotta outrun(?) the horde
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
Joining the Quick Meta bandwagon, Quick is the new Buster and all.
QUICK
Agreed. I vote Quick, too.
Location: Clock Tower Tunnels
Time: 13:51
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Lightly Wounded
Magic Circuits: Unlocked
Magus Profile!
Inventory!
Day 0 - The Tower 6
Combat Strategy Selected!
Dolores took a deep breath, tension leaking through every pore of her body as she analyzed her situation once again.
Trapped between a customized gatekeeper and a horde of undead, she had little chance of going through either without attracting some form of unwanted attention. If she holed up to fight the zombies, the witch who’d summoned them would notice for certain and pin her down immediately; no ifs, ands, or buts.
Using her Ring of Concealment to sneak past them was also a bad choice. Not only was it a faulty product, becoming weaker the longer she had it on, there was also the very real possibility that they had other means to detect her.
At most, her invisibility was giving her but a momentary advantage in this deadly game of cat and mouse.
Which meant she had to strike while the iron was hot.
Fighting the undead familiars would call for unwanted attention and a drawn out battle against the homunculus guard was very likely to attract them. Getting surrounded by enemies from all sides was far from optimal. She also had to take the still recovering Suibhne into account. The cait sidhe had yet to regain consciousness, even though Dolores had managed to repair her body.
She couldn’t trust her stealth to last forever. Nor could she face her enemies directly.
‘But… I might not need to.’ A flash of inspiration hit her.
Why fight on two fronts when someone else could fight for her?
An idea quickly blossomed in her mind’s eye. If both sides would strike as soon as they recognized an enemy, then all she had to do was lead them to each other! The undead wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her and the artificial human, while the homunculus wouldn’t see her at all.
She could remove her ring, attack a group of them and run back to this chamber. Then, use the ring once again to hide when the guard attacked.
Steadying her heart, the young magus steeled her resolve as she opened her backpack and carefully laid her familiar spirit to rest.
It freed up her hands, and would keep the cat out of view at the very least.
‘It’s not like she weights anything.’ One of the advantages of being a Spirit, she supposed.
Finding her targets was the easy part. They stank, rotting flesh cutting through the low stench of rotting stone and rusting metal, and it was clear where they were standing. Taking a final, shallow, breath she pulled the ring from her finger.
A dozen heads snapped to follow her instantly, her eyes zeroing in on the face of one zombie in particular. Its nose was gone, just two slits that seemed to whistle with air as tattered flaps of skin twitched. Dolores didn’t even have to scream, the strangled noises of fear and disgust she made more than enough to get all of them sprinting after her. It was painfully clear exactly what they wanted too.
The Last Morello could hear laughter echoing somewhere down the tunnels, high pitched and cruel.
Twisting around the corner to the guardian’s chamber, she sent out a small portion of her swarm. The angrily buzzing cloud surged forward, stingers and pincers at the ready as they descended upon the artificial human, attacking its eyes with all the suicidal determination of hive workers. Intended to draw attention away from her directly, she waited until the undead were in plain view of the artificial human and slipped the ring on, a moment of pregnant confusion and trembling fear filled her world as she recalled the swarm, allowing the guardian to see at last.
And they attacked.
Driven by sheer, unbridled hate for anything alive, the undead surged forward in a wave of twisting flesh and rotting muscles. The Guardian was only all too quick to respond, its muscles warping and spasming in rage as it met their charge.
The results were… gruesome.
It was poetry in motion. Four hands flew out, two grabbing a hold of the first Zombie’s shoulders, the other two coming around in a double palm clap and popped the undead’s head like an egg. Throwing the body at the legs of the next couple, it took advantage of their lack of stability to lash out with a devastating sweep, an axe kick smashing another head as it fell.
Spinning out of the way of a dozen grasping, clawed hands, the creation of ritual magic was all too capable of grabbing onto every extended limb, pulling its owner off balance, and then smashing every joint in. Ankles, knees, swrists, elbows, shoulders, hips, a single well placed blow was all it took to send bone fragments flying. And it was never just one strike. A quick double punch was followed by a knife hand which tore an arm from its socket, this flimsy tool becoming a lethal projectile as it was rocketed into the head of yet another zombie at extreme speed.
Dolores couldn’t look away.
The sheer, undiluted violence of the scene left her taken aback.
When the soldier used all four hands to literally pull the still snapping, chewing, growling head of a zombie from its body, vertebrae being sent flying, and then crushing it… the Magus finally had enough.
Her little distraction wasn’t going to last much longer. So, with the sounds of extreme ultra violence behind her, she slipped her ring on and took off running as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her feet!
Her circuits flared to life, mana flowing down towards her legs as she sprint across the chamber, lines of neon blue circuitry glowing through her clothes as she dashed away from the fighting.
Objectively speaking, she’d done a lot of running today. In fact, Dolores was pretty sure she felt at least two of her blisters pop. But considering her life, and probably her soul, was on the line she wasn’t slowing down. In fact, when the sounds of tearing flesh and snapping bone slowed down, she sped up.
Not dying was a good life goal.
Up ahead was a large set of heavy wooden doors. Left open, Dolores could see some form of array drawn over them, though she could not guess at its purpose with both sides separate.
Rather, she considered it her first bout of good luck since she woke up this morning.
No second line of defense sprung forth to deter her as she crossed the boundary of the gates, not looking back even as the sound of rusted hinges groaned in displeasure, the large doors closing as if pulled by an invisible force.
Dolores simply ran deeper into the darkened hallway, heart soaring in happiness as she neared what looked like a small set of torches.
Light meant civilization!
Which meant help!
Nearing the light of the torches, the young magus immediately recoiled when one of her feet sunk into the ground, pressing a panel which she hadn’t seen, distracted by the light as she had been.
The brick sank into the floor, a small rune sparking to life as a spider-web pattern spread from it, surrounding Dolores.
She cursed.
‘It’s a trap!’
There was no pain, no flash, no ritual seal. Her world went dark, Dolores fell and fell and fell and fell and she didn’t stop falling for a long, long time.
Congratulations! You have cleared the [Tower of London] sub-quest!
Sub Quests: A number of scenarios that when finished or ignored will pave the way for Dolores' eventual choice in the coming conflicts, falling into either of the three factions. At the end of Day 0, Dolores' faction will be selected and cannot be changed unless specific paths are taken down the lineby the readers.
So, as always, choose wisely!
Aw, man, the GM is railroading us. :-P
Location: ???
Time: ???
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Recovering
Magic Circuits: Unlocked
Magus Profile!
Parameters!
Inventory!
Day 0 - The Prison 1
Once again, Dolores’ world was filled with silent darkness. Her body throbbed with an unfamiliar pain, slowly rousing her from the haze of unconsciousness. The young magus felt as if someone had ran her over, taking their time to trample her head into the ground while they were at it.
The strange pressure on her chest didn’t help either. A mysterious weight shifting on top of her.
“No, stop.” Dolores mumbled blearily, feeling the warm body settle. “I look like I’m ten you weirdo… ”
A loud purring and a slight pin prick in her skin was her answer. Still exhausted, and very confused, she blinked her eyes open. And found that Suibhne, apparently recovered, was plopped on her stomach and kneading her breast. Very, very vigorously.
“Suibhne!” Her cheeks began to redden. “What are you doing.”
The cat, somehow looking unbearably smug, just flopped down and wriggled around.
“You’re soft. And I was bored.”
“Soooooo.” The young magus drug the syllable out. “You decided to feel me up in my sleep?”
“Yes. You humans are strange. No fur, all soft.”
Face feeling as if it were on fire, the young shaman simply hugged the cat spirit to her chest and breathed in the deep, earthy scent of the faerie.
“I’m glad you’re ok.” The young magus felt her eyes burn with unshed tears.
She wouldn’t have known what to do if she had lost the bronze cat.
Running for her life alone in the dark as she was chased by undead, the only reason Dolores hadn’t freaked out as much was because she focused on saving her familiar and getting her to safety. Nothing else had mattered at that point.
She let out a sigh of relief, brushing her fingers along the spirits spine.
Echoing on and on, the deep rumbles of the spirit’s approval slowly soothed away her mistress’s worries. Eventually, deciding that the last Morello was no longer unsure about whether the faerie might simply disappear again, the bronze colored wild cat flicked her tail back and forth and let herself be held.
“It’s ok little kitten, I’m here. I won’t be going anywhere at all, I promise. Thank you for saving me by the way. Being shot with lighting wasn’t fun the first time and it was significantly less so the second.”
“Do you know what happened? After I escaped, that is.”
Suibhne rumbled in approval, ancient eyes looking contrite.
“I’m afraid I have only returned to myself a few moments ago. They had your bag inside some sort of storage room. I snuck out to find you as soon as I was solid enough.” The spirit curled closer to Dolores, a tingle of mana sparking between the two as their connection grew and stabilized.
The shaman sighed. But it was too much to ask for either way.
“Do you know where this is?” She looked around the room.
It was sparsely decorated, with only a bed surrounded by walls of rough grey stone, one of which had what appeared to be a cheap painting hanging off it right in front of her. The mattress was old and lumpy and the air had a distinctive smell of dust.
Her familiar looked up to her.
“Only that we are further underground. The ether here is richer, and I can feel we are closer to a leyline.”
She sighed. That meant whatever trapped nabbed her was actually built into the tunnel to catch intruders.
Which meant she was at the Mage’s Association.
Before she could respond, there was a loud bang as a pair of black clad Enforcers marched into what Dolores now noticed was a cell.
Bolting to her feet, she was pinned in place by the glare of their leader. Blonde, hair wrapped in a tight bun, lips set in a severe line, eyes a cold, frozen green. Looking into her eyes made the young woman’s heart skip a beat. Deep, deep in the back of her mind she became aware of exactly how small she was and exactly how much power was lingering around this woman.
“With me, Heiress Morello.”
Lingering for a moment, Suibhne having turned invisible and curled around her neck, but followed when the two thugs made to grab her.
“I can walk on my own.”
Glaring at these two, she steeled her spine.
She’d seen thugs like these be turned into flash fried jack boots twelve hours ago. They weren’t going to touch her, never mind push her around. Not when someone far, far scarier was standing right there.
“Very well.” The woman marched off, Dolores falling in step behind her.
It was only a short walk through dull grey corridors, past doors with only brass plaques sporting a seemingly nonsensical string of symbols and numbers, and rooms with no windows.
Coming to one Dolores couldn’t have told you was any different from the others, the blonde woman pricked her finger, smeared a drop of blood on the copper doorknob, and then stepped inside; the dark wood door gliding silently on well oiled iron hinges.
It would have been charming if it wasn’t so ominous.
Following behind the enforcer, Dolores’s stride only faltered for a second when her two silent escorts remained outside. Instead, she took a good look at what she supposed was to be her interrogation room. And what she saw… honestly baffled her. It was far more confusing than the rather macabre and grim dungeon her rampant imagination had conjured.
‘This feels so underwhelming.’ Rather than the cliché metal table and concrete floor she had been prepared to be disappointed by, the room was decorated to resemble a study of sorts, the quintessential principal’s office, with a large wooden table taking up its center while two bookshelves decorated the walls to its sides.
It even had a dull red carpet.
“Take a seat, Heiress Morello.” The woman took her seat at the table, hands laying flat against the polished wood.
A sign of warning.
‘Don’t try anything.’
The young teen wanted to scoff. It wasn’t like she could have done anything anyway. The bookshelves and the table were made of cheap mundane wood, the sword that would snap like a toothpick. She doubted the books there were even real. Perhaps blank tomes meant to create an ambiance.
Or worse. Some of them could even have curses on them.
Perhaps all of them.
Receiving a mental nudge of reassurance from her familiar, Dolores took a seat across from the Enforcer. And, now that they were alone, she opened up her non physical senses as well.
And nearly recoiled.
The woman felt… oppressive. Perhaps overwhelming would be a better way to put it. It wasn’t a matter of intimidation, rather, just looking at her gave Dolores the impression that something was pressing down on her. As if someone had tied weights to her back, or a wave of force had crashed over her, its sheer, unrelenting pressure crushing her.
She took a deep steadying breath.
Once more, her prana and od began to mix. Magic, pure and simple, bristled up in her chest. It was like flying, like being the Earth itself, so full you wanted to explode and so empty that you ached in hollowness. Being a Shaman, being a vessel, was to accept within yourself something Alien to Humanity. And her body was bred, shaped, designed to do this. So each and every fiber of her being stretched, the currents of ether and charged prana of the room drifting through her very soul. Dolores smiled, feeling the warmth of her familiar and thrum of Gaia’s heartbeat swell up and touch her own life force.
Suddenly, things didn’t seem so bad.
“So, madam, you have me at a disadvantage.” When the woman didn’t answer, still staring at her, silent and unblinking, Dolores sirked. “Again, I must say, the Enforcers may have the luxury of not actually doing anything, aside from kidnapping little girls, but I actually have work I need to do. Namely disputing this idiotic charge of my being in default on my family’s, purely spurious, debts. So, tell me what you wish to charge me with, or let me go.”
Putting out the air of unbridled privilege so many Magus let go to their head, the heiress was sweating on the inside. Because honestly, she had no idea how deep she was in the shit.
‘Fake it till you make it girl. Come on. Just be a snobbish, spoiled bitch.’
She really was trying to channel aloof arrogance. And praying it worked.
Judging by the blonde enforcer’s quirked eyebrow, she had either succeeded in surprising her, or proved that the woman needed to lock her down. Both of which weren't exactly encouraging.
“Then I suppose I should introduce myself as well.” Green eyes met red.
The woman’s posture was completely unaffected by the standoff. Rather, she seemed almost relaxed. As if her aura wasn’t one of the most intimidating things Dolores had seen today. Which included kidnapers and undead.
So it was actually quite impressive.
“I am Lady Dominika von Martinitz, Warden of the London Enforcer branch. But you may refer to me as Warden or Lady Martinitz if it suits you.” The woman’s voice had a rich accent, though her english was perfectly pronounced, there was enough roughness to mark her as a foreigner.
She pressed forward, looming over the younger magus.
“And you, Heiress Morella, stand accused of several accounts of violating the Mage Association’s bylaws. Including but not limited to fleeing the custody of Association officials, involvement in the murder of three Junior Officers, as well as being in possession of restricted mystic codes. Two of which were acquired illegally.”
Reaching into her blouse, the woman pulled out two very familiar items.
A ring and a pair of glasses.
“I would also like to mention that Magus Bellefronte is missing, and you were captured having violated the Clocktower’s bounded field through a secure entrance, evidence of a running battle was found in said secure area, and you are still in breach of several debtor’s laws.”
The woman pushed up her glasses, green orbs drilling into the shaman.
“Speaking frankly, Heiress Morello, we are well within our rights to imprison you for half of those offenses though it would be easier to just hand you over to the Faculty of Policies. Surely they will be delighted to take you off our hands.”
Dolores stiffened.
Policies meant getting handed over to Rosenberg. That meant being disected for whatever her body was worth and then being discarded like trash. Or worse.
She had to be careful. The situation was graver than she imagined, but there was a reason why they were keeping her alive and interrogating her rather than just handing her off to be butchered. Dolores had to bet on whatever agenda the enforcers had for her and come out on top.
It was her only choice.
“But you didn’t. Or rather, you chose not to.” She kept her voice steady.
The older woman was impassive towards her prodding. She would need to dig deeper.
And that meant deciding who her friends and who her enemies are.
‘First things first, that ass Linus paid for me. He hired enforcers, under the table going off of her reticence to attack me, to kidnap me. Policies was also involved and that meant political maneuvering.’
But by the same token, they sent Bellefonte, who was still missing, to kidnap her.
‘If they wanted me dead they’d have sent an assassin and I’d have woken up with a garrote around my neck.’
Which means that this was a bureaucratic maneuver first and foremost. And that the Enforcers didn’t know where Policies actually stood or if she’d actually been found in default on any of the debts her family owed. It was entirely possible for this to end up getting dropped as misfiled paperwork or an overzealous collection.
Dolores hummed, Suibhne’s claws half massaging her shoulders.
“Are these my official charges?”
Another quirked eyebrow, a look of curiosity on the woman’s visage.
Her silence, however, was telling.
“Lady Martinitz, I am aware that I look like a prepubescent child, but I assure you I paid particular attention in my legal studies. For obvious reasons.” Ensuring her tone didn’t waver was difficult, but her familiar gave her strength. “This is an advising. You haven’t arrested me. You aren’t charging me. You’re informing me of what could be done. And you haven’t even contacted Policies, else my Master would be here right now. So, good Warden, please tell me the truth.”
Bland, uncaring, distant amusement flickered across the woman’s face. Like if a gnat did something that almost seemed half funny.
“Oh? The truth?” The woman’s voice flickered, her aura pressing down further on Dolores.
‘Crap.’ Still uncaring, there was now a hint of hunger in her captor’s voice. ‘Did I actually piss off the Enforcers? Were they charged with protecting those storage rooms? They didn’t have any specialized bounded fields… I… could… detect. No. That wasn’t Teacher’s field at all! That was a mimesis field!’
“The truth, Heiress Morello, is that three of my men, one of whom was a personal friend of mine for twenty years, were found dead. And you have his glasses, and other belongings of his unit.”
The woman’s eyes shone under the low light of the room, staring balefully down at the young shaman.
“The truth is, little girl, that you have incensed a great many people. But most of all, you don’t have anything I could possibly want. However, I personally and professionally am opposed to simply handing you over to whatever fate Policies has devised. For a multitude of reasons. Even so, you were found in a very suspicious place during a high level emergency. Any sane Magus would have taken cover or reported for duty. I may not approve of Policies and their practices but I would very much like to hand you over if it meant getting answers.”
She bent over ever so slightly, meeting the girl eye to eye.
“Convince me not to.”
Dolores swallowed, feeling the weight of the situation settled on her shoulders.
‘The lengths I go to, to try and save this place!’
Choice Time!
Warning! You have been captured by the Enforcers. Your mystic codes have been seized as evidence.
Dominika von Martinitz has been added to your Relationship Index.
Relationship Index!
Last edited by Wyvern; April 11th, 2020 at 04:54 PM.
ARTS - Tell her of Bellefronte's kidnapping attempt and the servant attack. Withhold information!
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A wise and beautiful woman who exudes an aura of grace. She is a sly, cunning, manipulative person who always gets what she wants, whether through trickery or ruthlessness. Her own fighting abilities are low, but she should not be trifled with. What does she ride? Men, of course!
