Chapter 17 Telepath Unbound
I know I've kind of been slacking off lately. But can you blame me, there a prerelease for Theros Beyond Death, New years (Both universal and Chinese), a new release of Warcraft III: Refunded (But Warcraft3 PTR is free now so go check it up), a new release for Total War Warhammer 2, and a lot of things that keep me occupied. Sorry about that.
…
Reviews/ Q&A
chickenbass: I almost pity the Ironborn! A grief-stricken Ned Stark would be a terrible thing indeed.
Well. Balon is dead. But his brothers still live, so you shouldn't be. The ramification of not having Balon keeping his brothers at bay would be revealed in the next arc though if Westeros isn't as in turmoil as it already is.
chickenbass: I enjoy all the references you put in.
Thanks. I saw in some story they call this type of writing as a crack with a plot. I agree with that wholeheartedly.
NarutoMorningStar: Do you have any wish for Jon to take part in the events of Westeros?
Yes. It will be a year or so before the start of the show. You will be surprised how unequipped Jon will be when he returned. And how much a shitstorm a single planeswalker can cause by just existing. It will be fun.
…
On a cold winter morning in the time before the light, the city of Thraben remains silent. No birds chirping. No ringing from windchime. Nothing. No one dares to make a slip for the sun is yet to rise, and they had not thanked the holiest and graceful Avacyn for protecting them through yet another night.
In contrary to the city, the barrack for the Lunarch's elite guard is busting with commotion. Everyone that resides there is a well-disciplined soldier and faithful warrior of the church. They rise before the first light even attempts to crawl up the sky. They have one job and one job only, and that is to protect the Lunarch. They always serve with distinction and eager to begin their vigilance duty another day.
Everyone except Thalia that is. She wishes the world had ended the last night after Carla wake her up from her fiery succulent dream. If a demon swooped down and killed her right now, she would allow it. At least it would be less bothersome than answering myriad questions from Carla and others. The older woman would never let that go. She knows it.
"Oi, Thalia." Carla's voice jolts her up. It makes her shoulder stiff. "You owe me answers. Who is this, Jon? Hmm?"
"None of your business, Carla." Thalia replied. Internally, she sighs heavily. Out of all people that would know her secret, why must it be her?
"Oi. Sure. It's not my business. But I am sure can make it the everyone business. What others would do when they know that our little Thalia has some man stashes somewhere for her personal use?" Said Carla with a sinister smile on her face. "It would break a lot of single men heart for one, many in our regiment included."
"Don't you dare!" Thalia's eyes flashes in a mix of anger and terror. "Don't. You. Dare."
"Oh, I do dare my dear Thalia. Unless …." Carla's smile enlarges. "You tell me about this lovely Jon of yours right now. While we are getting ready for our day, of course."
Carla observes her prey and found the situation satisfying. No matter how skills in combat young Thalia is, her life experience is almost non-existent. Being raised as an orphan of the church, it was sheer luck for her to know any man at all. Hence, Carla must know who he is. Anyone that breaks the norm is interesting, and for a woman her age, an interesting young man is an exotic specimen indeed.
"Oh, by the way, you have time to decide before I finish undressing." Said Carla as she slowly slips out of her inner shirt and pants. Being the Lunarch's personal guard, they had to be combat-ready at every moment. That means they sleep with light armor on and have a cuirass in their bedroom. It also means it takes quite a lot of time for them to undress. "You better hurry."
As Carla hands darting across her body more and more piece of clothing falls to the floor, she continues observing her younger roommate who is turning redder and redder every moment. "I'm halfway there, Thalia. Living on a prayer I see."
Thalia, on the other hand, is shaken as if she was caught in a snowstorm. "Okay! Okay! I will talk."
"Your frustration is so adorable." Carla leans in and pokes her nose. "So, who is this secret lover of yours?"
The older woman grabs fresh towels and a bucket of water and places them in the middle of the room. She hands one to Thalia and undresses her younger roommate with her eyes. If that is not a silent command, then what is?
The elite guard for the Lunarch is many things, uttermost efficient is one of those values. Even when they are gossiping, they don't waste time.
"Come on. Don't standstill. Clean yourself and don your attire. We wasted enough time as it is." Said Carla as she rubs a wet towel over her developed body. "And don't stay silent either. If you back out of our deal …"
"Alright. Alright. Geez. You are evil." Thalia quickly gets out of her own gown and washes herself. Her pale skin turns pink due to an increase in blood flow over her body. "His name is Jon Snow."
"Jon. Snow." Carla repeated. "What a strange name. Where's he from?"
"Kessig." Answered Thalia as she scrubs her lightly arms.
"Bullshit!" Carla snapped. Her towel dances around her chest.
"I beg your pardon?" Thalia frowns. She had yet to tell a lie. It was not as if she told Carla that Jon is a werewolf or anything. If she does that, she would probably be burnt at a stake too, considering Carla is a witness to a dream she had last night.
Now, the thing had been even more complicated. She needs to come up with a new plan. The one that will not end up with her death, or at best excommunicated, too.
"You are an orphan of a church and was raised in Gavony. How in the hell did you know a boy from Kessig?" Carla twists her towel and turns it into a whip to crack at her young roommate.
"That's a long story." Thalia winces. Her still developed body is small and lithe and doesn't do well with a teasing that she currently received.
"Then tell me a short version. Leave out the juicy details for later." Carla finishes her bath early and
…
While the interrogation of Thalia is happening, the two women don't know are being watched from afar. Had they able to see through the dark, they would see a white eyes raven staring at them since they woke up. The raven stood still and remains unmoved on the nearby roof.
And through its eyes, Jon Snow sees everything. Through its ears, Jon hears everything.
It supposed to be mere scouting, but now Jon could not move away. An angel has appeared before him and gives him her graces. By Avacyn, he was entranced at the sight he saw. Like a verse in a song, his auntie Narset used to sing. A song by some Leonin with a weird name like Cohen or something. But then again Uncle Vol told him about a one-eye white leonine planeswalker name Ajani Goldmane, so maybe Cohen is a normal name for cat people.
"Your faith is strong, but you needed proof.
You saw her bathing on the roof.
The beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya."
And that's where the similarity ends. The next verse is something about being a tie to a broken kitchen chair and gets a haircut. If he knows what the hell is Hallelujah means he might understand what the heck is this song about.
But the naked body of Thalia indeed had an effect on the young werewolf. Those developing curves are juicy if the inner wolf spirit inside him has any say. The bird eyes are far sharper than both man and wolf, which means he sees all the details. Considering that birds could see well beyond the ultraviolet range, what Jon had seen was beyond his own belief.
Let alone the thing he heard. Thalia is telling her older and more develop college about him. The difference in the size between them is like night and day.
"He is what! Thirteen?" Said the older woman. "So. You are telling me. Not only he is two years younger than you, but he is also a great fighter trained to be an archmage. If that is not enough, he is fairer than most of the women here. And two of you once fought off a group of vampires."
Thalia, who is about to be completely dressed, nods.
"Well. That sounds really made up. But seeing that you never tell lie before … Fine, I believe you." The older woman smiles. "But you are still hiding something."
Jon could see Thalia winces at the word "lie" and "hiding". Strange. What did Thalia could hide about him, really? Their relationship hadn't gone that far.
It is not like she knows his secret … right?
"Whatever. Introduce him to me in five years, and not a single moment before, and we are even. I will keep my mouth shut about this." The older woman pokes Thalia's nose. "As amazing as he allegedly is, I have to intension to lay with a boy."
If looks could kill, Thalia would already murder that woman with her eyes alone.
"I am joking! Geez, Thalia. I know you don't like to share." The older woman raises her hand up and laughs. "You do really love him, do you?"
"Nooooo." Thalia is frustrated. Her entire face turns red.
Jon would frown if he could when he heard Thalia's reply. So that how she thinks of me. He thought.
"Bullshit. That's a lie when I see one. You are hiding something." The older woman pushes back. "No. You are denying something."
Thalia let out a long sigh. "He and I could never be together." She shakes her head and looks down. Jon could see that she is sad. But he knows that it is not at what she said, but something else.
Something that he needs to know, by any means necessary.
Ah, the recklessness of youth. Not thinking with their brain. Not the one in their head anyway.
"Damn girl. Let me tell you something, huh. Don't let Lothar's word get you over your head. I mean he is a great man but being his successor doesn't mean you have to be exactly like him."
Lothar? The current Guardian of Thraben? Jon ponders. Then that means Thalia will be the next Guardian?
"…Surely, you two can keep it a secret. An occasional lover, perhaps. Anything short of he got you pregnant should be fine." The older woman stands up and reaches for the door, not given an opportunity for Thalia to retort. "Anyway. We better get ready. Our day is about to start."
Pregnant! What the f… Jon mentally screams
"Jon!" He heard a voice that could Shatter the Sky. It doesn't come from what the bird hears.
He knows this, because it is his mother's voice, and she sounds worried. Well, worry is one way to put it.
"Jon!" He heard his mother voice once again. This time even louder than before. His concentration is in shamble. The mental link between him and the possessed raven is broken instantly.
…
"Ouch!" Jon cried and blinked. The suddenness of the process makes him feels like he was hit in the face with a sleigh hammer.
The vision that he sees through his own eyes becomes dominant once again. It had never gone away but when he sees through the raven, it had been put at the back of his head, barely noticeable. Lo and behold, his mother is standing in his face with her arms at her hips.
Strange.
"Mother. Is everything alright?" Asked confused Jon.
"Is everything alright?" Mocked his mother. Her face tells everything he needs to know. She is at most amused. Amused and annoyed. "What are you doing? Peeking at an innocent girl taking a bath?"
Jon went pale as if he saw ghosts. Well, he saw ghosts before, since He lived in Innistrad. But this time, his face is full of terror. "What! How?"
"You do!" Arlinn raises her voice. Her tone is in between amusement and worry. "Boys will always be boys. When you gain an ability to take over an animal mind, what is the first thing you do? Use it for mischief."
"How did you know that!" Jon panicky yells.
"Well, For one. You have quite a Giant Growth in your pants, Jon. Impressive size for your age too, I might add." Arlinn eyes dart downward. She even creepily licks her lips. "So. Which girl do you spying, Jon? Do I know her? …. Wait. It's that young Cathar Thalia isn't it?"
Seeing that Jon starts to panic, Arlinn continues. "It is! Oh, Jon. You scoundrel." She laughs. "I'm not sure should I be proud or discipline you four abusing your power on such a useless matter. At least tell me you learn something."
By this point Jon's entire body becomes flaccid. Whether it is because of shame or embarrassment, only he would know.
Jon tries his hardest to recollect any modesty he still had before opens his mouth to speak. "Thalia is now a member of Lunarch's elite guard. More than that, she is to be Lothar's apprentice. And she knows something about me that she keeps it hidden from others. This will complicate our mission."
His mother raises her brows when she heard his reason. "Elaborate." She commanded.
"Thalia knows something about me. Something that she doesn't want to tell others. Her body gesture doesn't suggest it is something embarrassing. For an orphan raised by the church who doesn't interact much with other people, there are not many things that she should fear. Therefore, I conclude that she might know or suspect something about us more than we first thought." Jon explained. "Lord Sorin would not fuss about us taking it slow, right?"
"Ha. You know nothing, Jon. That old vampire might pretend to care for Innistrad all he wants, but in truth, he will not lift a finger if it doesn't cross his bottom line. Besides, we got what he asked us for. We found out the trespasser motive. No need to go above and beyond. He will not appreciate it." Arlinn pats her young son's head. "As long as you don't go around killing people and bring forth Innistrad's destruction, he will probably leave you alone."
"But that is exactly what we did to get the answer." Jon retorts. "I think between you and me, we murder a few hundred …. Things that night. I still have some bloodstain on my spear."
If you think human blood is hard to wash off. You have no idea how hard to remove a mixture of vampire's, werewolf's, demon's, devil's, and zombie's blood that intermingle with spirit's essence is. That and coupled with how inexperience Jon had in removing evidence of murder, the bloodstain would be there for a long time.
"And I keep telling you to use an extract from bombardier beetle. It removes stains like magic." She pokes his nose. "
"But mother, the beetle stinks. Remember that time we covered ourselves from head to toe with blood and gore and didn't have a chance to shower for three days. We still smell less than when I got sprayed by that accursed bug." Jon complained. "Its essence also burns my skin and eyes."
"YOU SHRUGH OFF A DRAGON FIRE JON! WHAT COULD A LITTLE BUG SPRAY DO TO YOU!" Screams Arlinn. "I say you should stop being a little bitch and man up. A weapon is the warrior's pride and joy. If you don't even responsible enough to keep it clean, how could you tame Thalia."
"MOTHER!" Jon's voice trembles. What kind of logic is that? But then again, the time that he uses conventional logic since he was adopted by his mother can be counted by one hand. And those times it came from other people. There nothing wrong with that though. Before his first planeswalk, he was raised as a bastard without even knowing the name of his mother. His sole existence was a shame. At least with Arlinn and other planeswalkers, he was loved.
"Anyway, you can report what we found to Sorin and wait and see. Liliana's target is still Helvault. It will be best if we can monitor it in the shadow. This way we can go back and forth from here to Tarkir and continue your training." She raises his chin. "These past few days were tense for you. Maybe it is a good time to relax a bit."
"Don't worry about that old vampire. You need to learn that there is a kind of people who will act the opposite of what they said." She sneers. "He protects humans because they are his source of food. As long as the foundation of the church didn't get destroyed, of which I doubt a lone necromancer no matter how powerful she is, could do, we don't have much to worry about."
Listened to his mother, Jon frowned. He remembered vividly that Lord Sorin is very dominating when he issued this order. It was not a kind of dominating that will make you obey by force either. Jon knows how to read between the lines, or at least he thought he was. Sorin's stance screams 'I will turn you into a mindless slave to obey my every whim if you refuse'. And from what he knows of the vampire's magic and personality, he can, and he will. What his mother just said was a complete opposite. So, either his mother is grievously wrong, or he is.
It's probably him. His mother had never led him astray.
What it led to was a slaughter of inquisition forces, turned into a werewolf and set a sept on fire, hunting gigantic games for dragons, fighting other broods of dragon and their mortal clans, losing his virginity without knowing it, upsetting and then befriend bunch of planeswalker, went back to Innistrad to issue a brawl that kill half a town.
So yes, he trusts her decision. Completely.
"Well …." Jon ponders. "How can we continuously observe what's going on in the most fortified city in the most sacred land of Innistrad without being detected by the inquisition? They have a patrol in the countryside every other day. I don't think our cover would still be valid when there are so many archmagi running around. What if someone recognizes you?"
"Bah. You know nothing Jon Snow." She laughs in his face. "Let me tell you about Gavony's worst kept secret. The Moorland."
…
While the werewolf mother and son are talking in a run-down mill, another sinister family is also entertaining a peculiar guest in the Moorland.
Morning comes as dawn about to break. The land beyond Nearhearth is as desolate as the forest of Ulvenwald or the Devil's Breach of Kessig. Spirit does not rest in this place. The light dares not shine upon its shadow. And there two necromancers, a brother and sister, that waging a war against each other.
What a family time it is.
This means at any time the land would be flooded with zombie killing each other. Therefore, no one in the right mind would willingly come to this place. It is a perfect place for a necromancer to hide. Close enough to Thraben to cause trouble, yet dangerous enough to turn away the righteous eyes of Avacyn's inquisitor.
It's seemed a fairly ordinary morning. It's true that there are dark storm clouds, heavy, black, and pendulous, over a village named Torstad. It's also true that this village is not as abandoned as it seemed. For one, this village has a very distinguishing guess. One could say that she was standing "Out of plane".
It's astounding.
Time is fleeting.
Madness takes its toll.
But listen closely,
For not very much longer.
I got to keep control.
That's because Liliana Vess is standing in front of the door of the only house that contains the living in it, with a small army of zombies at her back. Surrounding her and her minions are even more zombies that she didn't raise. They stare at her with their lifeless eyes.
It was raining heavily as the sky seems to break apart and weeps all it sorrows out. Clearly, the planeswalker doesn't have a good time waiting.
She commands her zombies to knock on the door. She had to admit it was a hasty job she did when the heavy rain arrives. She didn't even have time to select a fine specimen. She didn't know what sort of people these corpses were, but it seems even in death they could still retain an ability to speak, but only in the most inappropriate time.
Had she enough time, she would slaughter few squads of Gavony Riders stationed nearby and raised them as her bodyguard, but beggar can't be choosers.
For what it seems to be an eternity and a half, the door finally flung open. Out came a plain-looking man with short hair. He doesn't wear anything aside from usual stay at home clothes. If someone that doesn't know him would come by, they wouldn't have the slightest clue that he is one of the most terrifying necromancers on Innistrad. Apart from an army of zombies, or in the local term - skaabs, outside, that is.
Of course, he keeps stitching clothes and a pair of goggles in the lab. A renown skaaberen such as himself take hygiene very seriously.
"Hello." He greets.
"Geralf Caeceni I presume?" She smiles. "The rumor didn't do you any justice. You look even better in real life."
A flatter. One the Geralf completely ignores, for his eyes is darting around her curves and alluring body. Oh, and he knows a lot about the human body. His job description is basically stitching them and bring them to un-life. The woman is a necromancer no doubt. Her prowess in raising the dead is even better than his own sister, and a lot better to rest his eyes on.
"You're wet." He comments.
"She's always wet!" Her zombies loudly heckle in unison. They seem to smile for a split second before return to an unemotional posture like they always do.
What a peculiar specimen. Very unique. Unique and useless at the same time.
Liliana sighs. She seems to regret raising this band of idiots. But she would be damned to walk into a village filled with an army of living dead without one such army of her own.
Crossing her arms, she replied. "Yes. It's been raining."
"Yes…." Geralf replies as he stares right into her eyes as if he was looking into her dark and wicked soul. It doesn't help that a lightning bolt decides to strike near the manor. "… I think it's best that you …"
"Fuck off!" Liliana's zombies interrupt in unison before becoming their usual normal zombify self once again.
Ignoring that, Geralf continues. "Come inside."
…
Custom Card of the Chapter
Name: Rocky Horror Time Warp
Mana Cost: 3UB
Types: Instant
Card Text:
Target player jump to the left, take a step to the right, with their hand on their hips, bring their knees in tight, do pelvic trusts, and takes an extra turn after this one.
Exile Rocky Horror Time Warp.
Rarity: Mythic Rare.
