Karp
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Chapter 112
🕑 Added 2024-11-22 21:16:00 +0000 UTCA day had passed since Varrus and company had settled into Vanhook Manor, and he was ready to explore the city with Syra on a date.
The night before, he had sent Rho'dan out with an invitation to meet with Prince Liam Greymane so that he could deliver Lorna Crowley's letter. They were due to meet a few days later at an opera house.
Rho'dan had also delivered a message to meet with Princess Tess Greymane, but received no reply.
Lastly, Varrus was still waiting for the King's schedule to free up, so until then, he would see the sites, then eliminate Godfrey once they had had their fun.
It was a cool, and foggy morning in Gilneas City, and Varrus intended to see what he could during his brief stay. As someone who had driven nearly every inch of his home town of 200,000+ people, Varrus had a knack for urban exploration.
Standing at the gate to the manor, Varrus held out his arm to Syra, and helped her into a horse drawn carriage.
Once they were inside, Rho'dan whipped the reins, and they were off.
Varrus kept holding onto Syra’s hand, and silently watched out the window as they drove down cobblestone streets. She leaned into him, and they silently enjoyed one another's company.
Taking a sip of tea, Varrus enjoyed the feeling of warm currents traveling throughout his system. The morning chill was rather intense, and the warmth of his loving wife, and a good cup of tea soothed his soul.
Just the other day he was fighting ghost pirates, and a literal giant. It was small moments like this carriage ride that he lived for.
Risking his life was exciting, and a little scary, but it had become such a frequent event, that he came to view it as a necessary evil.
But when he was alone with Syra, and the threat of imminent extermination wasn't breathing down his neck, then he could truly relax, and unwind.
He had a lot on his plate, including a planned assassination later in the evening. It was crazy how regular such an idea had become. He almost wanted to scoff at how easy it was to become the man he currently was.
But he had seen what leaving a festering thorn had resulted in. The Cult of the Damned, the betrayal by Darkhan, it was all avoidable if the leadership had been more proactive.
“It will all be okay, my love. You are doing better than anyone had expected.” Syra soothed, and massaged Varrus's shoulder.
Varrus sipped on his tea once more, and warmly smiled at Syra. “Of course you noticed my fugue. It's nothing serious, I’m simply enjoying the calm before the storm. You don't need to worry.” Varrus was quick to reassure his wife, because he didn't want her to feel down.
“How can I not worry? You are so busy every day, I'm glad you are here, I'm glad you are you.” Syra snuggled closer.
“Hoh?” Varrus grinned, took a whiff of her hair, and enjoyed her scent.
“Mhm, because if you didn't step up, then I'd have to lead.” Syra spoke with a sour expression.
“Yes, that gaggle of Heroes that have been following you since the Orc War are quite enamored with you. I'm sure you would make a fine leader, heck, you already taught a few classes on Void magic, that makes you half a leader already!” Varrus encouraged.
“Ugh, don't remind me. I just want to hold onto you forever, and raise 12 children, is that too much to ask for?” Syra looked directly into Varrus's eyes.
‘Yes!’ Varrus internally screamed, yet the smile never left his face.
He briefly canceled his polymorph spell, and leaned in for a kiss.
‘When words fail to communicate, the body finds a way!’ Varrus thought to himself as he closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to hers.
“You are my anchor, I like to joke around a lot, but I really do appreciate you. I think I'd go crazy if I had to fight alone. And you don't give yourself enough credit. I think you really could be a good leader.” Varrus smiled.
“Thanks.” Syra said in a quiet tone, blushed and looked away.
‘Ah, what a woman!’ Varrus admired her for a moment longer.
Taking a deep breath of her scent once more, Varrus tossed up his Human disguise, and turned to look out the window.
The scenery reminded him of Victorian London, only it was a little darker. Figuratively speaking that is. Instead of London, perhaps it would be better to liken the architecture in Gilneas City to that of Bloodborne.
Fog was ever pervasive, buildings were sharp with angular features, and hauntingly dim lamp posts dotted the streets.
Currently, they were in the district meant for the well to do, and upper crust of society, the Greymane Quarter.
The buildings here were massive manses, and sprawling estates. We'll kept lawns, and strong iron gates dotted the landscape.
Few people roamed the streets in this part of the city, as everyone was working indoors.
What people they did pass by were little more than black silhouettes. Even with his enhanced vision, the people of this city came off as odd.
They were-on average-gaunt, pale, and exceptionally thin. It was a little creepy riding in this fog, and had Varrus's imagination running wild.
While he knew he was in no danger, that didn't mean he would discount his instincts.
In fact, Varrus noticed the only sound was the whinny of his horse, and the wheels of his carriage. There were no other wagons, carriages, or pedestrians around them for the last ten minutes.
Varrus palmed the rune pistol he had filched from Lorna, and held it at the ready.
Syra had her hand within a mageweave bag, also prepared to pull out her massive buster sword.
A moment later, the howl of a wolf resounded in the thick fog, and a thump fell upon the top of their carriage.
The crack of a flintlock pistol rang in the air as one of the Crossguard-who was sitting besides Rhodan-unloaded.
“Ai!” The bark of a dogs yelp entered Varrus's ears.
Seconds later, a big white werewolf-looking body fell to the roadside.
“Hrma hrn!” The horse neighed, and began to run out of control.
Several more thumps fell onto the carriage, and the door was ripped open, revealing a slobbering Worgen.
Varrus pushed his pistol into its jaws, and blew the monster's brains out. He then kicked it out, and slammed the doors shut.
“Rho'dan, status report!” Varrus yelled, and stuck his head out the window.
He was met with a clawed hand, but thanks to his enhanced stats, and Elven constitution, he outsped the claw, and ducked back.
Retaliating with two shots, Varrus hit the creature's jaw, and chest, bringing it to its knees. Remarkably, it was still alive!
Judging it based upon speed, and the ability to move despite the damage sustained, Varrus figured this Worgen was at least as tough as glass armor! Get him a potion, or a priest, and he would be good to go!
If this was what the Worgen transformation could bring to the table, then Varrus could see the benefit of incorporating it into the Covenant.
“We seem to be surrounded.” Rho'dan calmly replied from the front of the carriage.
One hand held the reins, whilst another held onto a blood soaked blade.
Varrus glanced in front of them, and saw that his guard was right. Thanks to his Mana Sight racial trait, and Detect Life spell, he confirmed Rho'dan's assessment. There were about a hundred of these beasts on the streets and alleyways in front of them, and a few dozen on the rooftops.
As the carriage wasn't a car, making a u-turn wasn't feasible given their current circumstances.
“Then we go through them!” Varrus climbed out the window, and planted himself on top of the carriage.
Syra followed after him, and had drawn her buster sword.
Aiming the pistol, Varrus noticed his vision had enhanced, it seemed that the Archery perk tree applied to firearms as well!
“Then we ride!” Rho'dan whipped the reins, and the horse plowed forward.
Varrus emptied his remaining bullets, then bolstered his pistol in favor of casting spells.
He didn't want to destroy the city or any buildings, so he went for something simple.
He chose: Mayhem.
Once the red light of the Illusion spell fell upon the Worgen waiting for them up front, they went into a frenzied chaos.
All 100 of them began to rip and tear at each other's throats, and cannibalize one another.
The Worgen prowling on the rooftops weren't caught up in this sinister magic, and despite witnessing their compatriots' fates, still decided to make the leap.
Every time a Worgen jumped down at their carriage, Syra would swing her sword, and the world would be short of one flea bitten mongrel.
Her speed and efficiency made short work of any remaining werewolf wannabes.
The cobblestone ground was slick with a fresh paint of blood, and furry pelts, yet no guards or soldiers had come due to the commotion.
As they advanced, Varrus realized that what they had fought was but a scouting force, or a group meant to secure the flanks.
Up ahead, a large wolf-man was howling in glee alongside 4-700 other Worgen. They were surrounding a battered carriage, and dozens of Gilnean soldiers lay dead.
About 30 men at best were left standing, their halberds, swords, and rifles were stabbing and shooting every second, but it was clear to Varrus that they were soon to be overrun.
Dueling the large wolf-man was a lithe, raven haired young woman. Dressed in riding leathers that made one think of a Napoleonic era cavalry officer, she made for a striking figure.
Her sword flashed with a silvery glow, and her movements placed her at the height of an Elite's skill level. She was fluid, yet strong. Bendable, yet decisive.
Varrus could see that with the proper guidance, this young woman could very well become a Hero.
However, the massed Worgen seemed intent on slaying this lady of noble birth.
Ordinarily, Varrus didn't like getting involved in conflicts such as this. Just because the Worgen were ugly, and the woman was beautiful was not enough of a reason for him.
However, he had been indiscriminately attacked, and that, he could not abide.
Besides, the way that she moved with the darkness of the fog was quite skillful. In fact, with his Mana Sight, he detected an abnormal amount of Void mana within her system.
This must be the Princess he had intended to meet!
“Keep going forward, we will not stop until the street is slick with Worgen blood!” Varrus commanded.
“Aye my Lord!” Rho'dan nodded, and continued to advance.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tess Greymane grimaced as she was forced to block a direct strike from the massive beast in front of her.
She flicked her blade, and cut at its hand, only to have the tip of her sword blocked by glowing, mana enhanced nails.
Tess felt indignation knowing that this was the way she would die.
She had spent the majority of her life locked in her room, her father called her a curse. Ever since her mother had died, he spent all his attention on the stupid wall, on her stupid brother, and on the stupid civil war. The one time she wanted to make herself useful, to show to her father that she wasn't a pariah, or family stigma, she found herself besieged on all sides.
“Blasted bugger, fight me like a man, one on one!” Tess spat into the giant Worgen's face, and gutted three more Worgen that tried to sneak up on her in one fluid motion.
“Hargh hargh, none of that noble sentiment now luv.” The massive Worgen laughed, and casually killed another one of her soldiers.
The guard screamed as the Worgen slowly bit into his chest.
Tess was grim faced as she watched one of the soldiers she would sneak out and play pranks on collapse into a pile of stinking corpses.
The many circling Worgen whooped and hollered at the kill, and scrambled for a bite to eat.
Their cheers and shouts of joy sickened Tess to no end. She knew the people had it bad ever since the Scourge attacked. Many of them turned from the Light, and joined the Wolf Cult to find safety. But to eat your fellow man?
Such a sight made Tess queasy, but more so, it made her mad.
While her awful father was busy organizing hunts in the Blackwald, the Wolf Cult was organizing itself, and terrorizing the populace right beneath his seat of governance!
The arrogant old man had forgotten his people, just like he had forgotten her!
“All alone now, Princess. Come with us, the Alpha will make you his Queen.” The large Worgen beckoned with a grin, and a crook of one clawed finger.
Seeing the death of her longtime servants, friends and confidants sent something off in Tess.
These were her only friends. What children of nobles, peasants, craftsmen, and any else she had managed to find throughout the years had all come together to help her in her investigation. To rid their beloved Gilneas of this foul threat.
Yet here they were.
Dead!
All at her invitation!
She couldn't handle the loss, she couldn't handle the smug mockery. She hated her father, but she hated herself even more.
Tess had had.
“Enough!” The young scion of Greynane roared.
Purple splotches of energy twisted in the air, and colored her skin with a toxic tint. Her silver blade took on a sinister hue, and the fog stood still.
The laughter halted, and not a peep was made.
“Greymane's Curse.” A whisper seemed to resound amongst the pack, and stilled fog air.
“Just a legend and tricks! The Greymane's tell this story to put fear in our hearts, to make themselves feel special and above the common folk!” The large Worgen snarled at his compatriots, yet he also slowly backed away, and pushed a few awestruck Worgen in front of him.
Tess began to lose all reason. All she knew was she wanted these bastards dead!
Lunging forward, Tess moved faster than she ever had, and diced through a dozen Worgen as she tried to kill the pack leader.
“Get her!” The pack leader snarled.
As one, the quivering hundreds of wolf-men listened to their orders, and began to suicidally run at her.
Tess ducked under claws, and moved with the darkness like it was an old friend. It helped guide her step, and foresaw an enemy’s move a second ahead of time.
Within less than ten minutes, Tess had slaughtered a couple hundred Worgen, yet she felt energy leaving her system.
A lull in the battle had developed, and she stood still, barely supporting herself with her sword.
Her eyes dared them to step forward, but the mound of wolf flesh discouraged any from stepping forward.
Tess’s bones ached, and her veins felt like they had poison in them, yet she stood her ground.
She defiantly stared down the pack leader, and let a grin take hold of her face.
“What's wrong, your balls drop too late? Oh wait, a dog like you probably got snipped. With an ugly mug like yours, I can't imagine your Alpha wants you breeding the next generation.” Tess endlessly taunted.
If she was going down, she wanted them to finish it quickly. It was better to die here, than to be taken as some prize for an even bigger wolf.
“You. You bitch!” The pack master snarled, and ran at her on all fours.
‘This is it. I only wish the old bastard would have acknowledged me once.’ Tess felt her heart relax as she accepted her fate.
However, she was forced to blink her eyes as a silver blur interposed itself in-between her and the pack master.
“Another bitch for the Alpha!” The pack master crowed.
Tess wanted to warn this newcomer, and held out her hand to say something, that she wasn't worth saving, that she was only a curse that had gotten all of her friends killed.
But whatever warning she had prepared on her lips was silenced as the pack master was sliced into two halves.
Tess gulped, and noticed a faint purple aura covering this blonde woman.
Her relaxed heart became excited as she realized she wasn't alone!
Was this some distant cousin who had come to the rescue?!
Her shock didn't end there, as the mystery woman was joined by three others.
They made short work of the remaining Worgen, and absolutely slaughtered them down to the mast soul!
Tess gulped. The lady was just as strong as her father! There were a few dozen Heroes in all of Gilneas, but none could match her father.
Until now.
“Wh-who are you?” Tess reached out her hand, only to stumble and fall onto the ground as the pain of channeling the Void came back with a vengeance.
“Us? We're the Vanhooks.” The young man stepped forward, and offered her a potion.
Taking a sip, Tess felt herself feeling better immediately.
“I meant her! We must be related, because I've never seen anyone use the Void like that before! Anyone else who tries goes mad!” Tess wiped her lips, and slightly bowed at the blonde lady.
“Pretty rude and foul speaking for a Princess. But hey, looks like you have a new fangirl, eh, Sarah, eh?” The man muttered, then cheerfully elbowed the beautiful woman in the side.
‘Sarah, so that's the name of my savior!’ Tess clenched her fists as she looked at the beautiful blonde with a look of anticipation, and ignored the rest of the rude monkey boy's words.
The throb in her heart was telling her that this was the one. This young, but slightly older girl than her would be the one to free her from this curse!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN: Wouldn't be a date with these 2 unless some jerk was trying to kill them, lol.
Comments
santhinal
She was a very interesting and cool figure in the worgen start zone. Not the end of the world I guess. Just playing don't kill off any of the main characters before we meet them.
Karp
Tbf, Tessa should also be like 10 years old rn. Tbh, did not realize the mother had such an impact, sry about that. As for the images, try reloading? They appear on my PC and Mobile. Another user had the same issue, I literally did nothing, and they came back for him.
santhinal
ok ok so I have 1 MAJOR problem with this. I thought you were mostly sticking to Warcraft Cannon such as it is minus some changes for the Skyrim gods. Mia Greymane did not die at ANY point in Warcraft's storyline. Why is she dead here? I can't see a reason for it given you can have the curse with her dead anyway... I guess it relates to one of said gods but I must say I am actually annoyed by this since I actually liked what character of Mia we got to see in game and wanted to see what you would do with her. Otherwise the images are not loading.
Conor McGroarty
Good thing she kept the monkey boy comment to herself in mind. Wouldn’t do to offend her future teacher and maybe gal friend.
