The Unholy Legions of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica, a Warhammer Online Destruction Regiment, Part 3: Old faces, new friends. (Skeech and Brikz backstory)

Winds from the north caused snowflakes to dance across the frozen tundra. Grothrel moved along a worn road winding like a brown snake through the white fields of winter. His breath crystallizing before the moisture blew it away. He had cast off his shimmering scale surcoat of vibrant blues for darker leathers stained to blend with earth and tree. Up ahead a tavern loomed like a beacon as the sun sank to rosy shades of purple and red.

He pushed open the door and was struck by warmth making its escape. The glow of a fireplace and dim oil lanterns cast a watery hue of amber over the central room. He brushed off his cloak and took a stool at the far end of the bar. The inn keeper flush with spirits cleaned out a pewter mug before setting it down in front of the elf.

“Can'ts say we get to many of your kind here friend. What brings ya to the copper pot?”, the keeper asked.

“My business is no concern of yours. I only wish to procure a room for the night and whatever passes as edible in these parts.”, Grothrel grunted in reply.

The keeper frowned and bellowed into the back, “Maybell, bring a bowl of stew up for the elf!” With that he turned towards more amiable company of the locals. A tall figured sat down beside the elf, oil skin leathers draped him and his face was obscured in shadow from a broad brimmed hat. The figure moved the skins aside revealing a pair of silver capped pistols and a finely crafted rapier.

White locks of hair fell as the figure took of his hat. A patch covered his left eye while the other moved rapidly taking in the elf's face. His demeanor eased as the eye judged Grothrel acceptable company.

“Pardon the locals he'ah. They be a curious lot, but they don't mean no hahm by it. Yah have the look of someone on a mission. Chasin' somethin' ah yah?”

Grothrel gave a disdainfull look, “Old man I am to tired to indulge your questions. My business is my own and you would do well to mind yours.”

“Oh yah be want'n tah be alone do yah. Seems that yah might be a bit lost then friend. By the looks of yah, yah stick to the woods and that don't fit with yah presence he'ah. I have walked these lands now going on fifty ye'ahs. Who you be look'n fo'ah?” The man leaned closer, “I can see it in yo'ah eyes. You have wronged and now you ah makin' it raight.”

The elf looked up sharply, “So tell me old man what else do you know of my business?”

“I know mo'ah then yah know. It is me business to know who entah these lands and judge them. The'ah is a wicked stahm comin' and yah seem to be at the centah of it.”, the old man said through a grin. “Now yah can ask fah help, or yah can die alone in the woods wish'n yah had.”

The elf relaxed a bit, “Your a hunter are you not? Protector of the people in the empire rooting out evil... Well evil has graced your shores old man and you best hope I don't die before I put her down.”

The old man raised his good eyebrow, “She didya say. Now why would ah lass be runnin' around these pahts caus'n trouble? Ya best tell me the story befoah the locals come ask'n yah mo'ah press'n questions.”

Grothrel slumped on his stool and over the next few hours told his story to the old man. By the end the witch hunter had a dark look about him. They parted for the night intending to talk more the next morning.

The old witch hunter was named Brakvis and while retired he new the lands good enough to set Grothrel to some promising secluded spots that quarry might hide. Of particular interest to the elf was a set of caves much like the ones he first encountered Elothyel in a year ago. He thanked Brakvis and set out in the direction of the mountains. The day was already unusually warm, perhaps the winds of fate were changing.

Grothrel spent a few days navigating the hills cowering under the towering mountains of Norsca. Glacial ice creaked and rumbled all around carving new valleys filled with blue shadows. How anyone could survive up here for more then a week was beyond his comprehension. There was no food and all the water sources were frozen through. He had to keep his water skin tucked under his shirt just to keep it from freezing.

As signs of wildlife dwindled to nothing he could see up ahead a rock face pocked with holes. The distance was deceptive as it took him a full day to reach the base and the holes turned to deep open caverns. The air was fowl and hot like a swamp in summer. Grothrel could only assume that magma ran through the depths of these caverns and hoped he would see sunlight again as he stepped into their shadow.

He traveled silently not knowing what or who might make these caves their home. He sensed Elothyel was close as their bond was warped but not entirely severed. He worked his way deeper into the caves as his eyes adjusted up ahead came an orange light.

He moved closer to the opening and discovered what caused such warmth in the caves. He peered over the edge of a deep cliff and saw rivers of magma working their way though hundreds of different passages. Inching along the edge he moved ever deeper the heat washing over him in waves from below.

He went to enter another tunnel when he spotted something odd painted on the wall. As he moved closer the crude markings made it only too clear what this was, “Greenskins.” He removed his short leafblade from its scabbard moving more cautiously now. Everything was silent save the molten earth which deeply rumbled the stone around him. He could not help but think how far from home he was and that he may never see the grassy plains or sandy white shores again.

He was lost. The twists and turns of the tunnels finally became too much and he dared not mark the walls in case orks came across them in their patrols. Grothrel had seen no other hints that they were here and this disturbed him, they were not creatures of secrecy.

It was then that he saw a different kind of light ahead. It was a cold blue and much different then the phosphorescence and magma his eyes had grown accustom to. He moved cautiously around the corner and came to a small chamber sparsely furnished. A few tables littered with parchments and a high backed chair intricately carved with figures set in deep red mahogany. Purple velvet cushions were attatched on the seat and back.

Grothrel heard a noise to his right and saw a pool of dark liquid bubbling lazily. As he moved closer the liquid smelled coppery and it appeared to be a brackish red. Suddenly his senses registered together and he recoiled as he recognized it as blood.

It was then that the pool gave way to a form rising out of it. The figure stood and the silhouette was familiar to him. As it turned female parts came into view and eyes opened luxuriously revealing a bright blue out of place with this macabre scene. It was Elothyel nude standing before her former lover, basking in the warm liquid running from her skin.

“I see you have finally found me Grothrel. I hope my nakedness pleases you”, she spread her arms and positioned herself in a seductive pose. “Is it lust or retribution that has brought you to my chambers, perhaps a bit of both?”

Grothrel was shocked. His will was sapped by seeing his lover exposing herself. His revulsion was mixed with a hunger he had not felt for far too long. He shook the cobwebs from his thoughts and took a step closer, justice had to be done.

Elothyel shook her head, “Pity, it would have been nice to feel your carnal lust once more. Brikz, please subdue our guest will you.”

Grothrel cursed at his distraction as thick arms wrapped around his chest. Pinned he struggled but the grip was like mithril. He looked down to see muscle ripple under dark green skin. Elothyel laughed lightly and moved closer, “I will have your body even if you are no longer in it.” She nodded to the ork holding him and his world went black as a sharp pain erupted from the back of his head.

He awoke some time later but could not move. He was laying flat on a table and Elothyel was chanting and doing something with his head. She leaned over now cleaned and covered, “Wake up lover... I have a sweet surprise for you. Can you hear me?”

Grothrel felt odd and horror grew as he spoke, “Wotz 'ave ya dunz ta me? Wo... Wotz be diz... Whyz do I soundz diz way!?!”

Elothyel cackled cruelly, “Oh my! This is truly delicious. You see my love I have grown in power since you last saw me. I have harnessed fear to warp the winds and purified myself in the blood of the innocent. Your punishment had to be a surpirse and so it is. I transferred your mind into a goblin, a rather stupid one at that. Your elven prowess of war will be his to use as you are helpless to watch through its eyes . Can you just imagine the sights you will see as elven blood is spilled by this little thing. Enduring its filthy ways and feeling every ounce of pain it feels.”

Placing her hand on his head she mocks, “We must put you deep and lock you away. Your mind is now bound to it and your life energy will make it live a long time. Isn't this fun!”

Grothrel could hear himself screaming in a high pitched voice and then it stopped. He felt himself sink like submerging in the cold depths of the sea. He tried to scream but nothing happened, he saw through eyes he could not command.

Elothyel once again came before him, “Now little gobo, Skeech isn't it. How do you feel?”

He could feel a wash of panic as the goblin forced out its answer, “I'z wot wantz ta go now. Pointy earz wot letz me go?”

Elothyel cackled again and unbound the goblin. It hopped off the table and scampered for the door. She called out as the little thing disappeared into shadow, “I will have a task for you little one. You will do as I command or suffer eternal agony!”

Turning towards a thick volume on a separate table her mind wandered to the other player in this tale, Magrel. Her task now was to contact a group called the Anti Sanctus Chaotica and watch over them from the shadows. She knew the perfect pair for the job and the master would be pleased with her choice. The war was upon them and dark elves would be landing within the month.

Her powers growing she would become a sorceress in secret until the time was right to once again enter her homelands and kill the Everqueen herself. She smiled at that thought and moved her hand over her shaved scalp mourning the loss. Sighing she knew her hair would grow back soon enough.

The old witch hunter Brakvis was leaning against an oak tree overshadowed by the mountains ringing the valley. He had been camped out for a week now checking to see if the elf would come out alive or if he would have to go in and finish the job. A few hours after dawn he spotted a figure coming down from the caves and their path should cross shortly. He lit his pipe and waited to congratulate the boy on his success.

Grothrel came around a tree grove as the witch hunter moved from the shadows. He smiled at the old man and went to greet him.

Brakvis smiled grimly then slowly furrowed his brow in confusion, “Yah face looks the same, but yah is not the sa...”

Magrel removed the silver knife from the old mans stomach, “I wish my duties were not more pressing old one. I would have loved to spent days out here with you carving away your sanity. How many confessions you have heard in your lifetime? You must have known your good deeds would finally catch up with you.”

Brakvis slumped to the ground and watched the strange elf wipe the blade on his favorite hat. He laughed at the irony of his demise and fell over dead before his hat hit the ground.

Magrel liked his new body. It had been too long between reincarnations and what a perfect time to be alive. He had to make his way back to the elven lands fast. This body's former status and connections would be used to form such wonderful webs of deception. He would bring fear to the elves hearts and spoil their souls like a rotten apple buried in fresh fruit. Once the damage was complete maybe then he would come back to the Anti Sanctus Chaotica. Until that day his student would have to keep an eye on them. He touched a knot of chestnut hair tucked into his belt, the Queen will even reward him for dispatching his lover, how delightful.