A Wolf with a coat of Darkness – chapter 3
I do not own ASoIF/GoT or Warcaft/WoW
Rated M for everything wrong with the Cult of the Damned and the Scourge (including but not limited to cannibalism, human experimentation, murder, rape, slavery, torture, sadism)
A sudden quiet descended around the duo, both standing unmoving where the cart driver left them, the man pulling away whistling a tune. Eventually, the two decided to get a move on and look for place to sleep. Taking the mans' advice, they descended back down and out of the main gate, turning right in search for a house to sleep in. Just as the cultist had said, most of the inside houses were full, lights flickering in almost every window, but outside, there was silence save for the gentle splash of tiny waves on the lakeshore.
With some dread and annoyance Sansa noted that around the edge of the lake did skeletons stood, looking out towards the waters, dashing any hope of escape, not that she knew just where to go. If the cultists were so unconcerned with traveling on the open main roads, then they probably had control over the surrounding lands.
Initially, they saw no houses, but there was a path and the man did say there were houses outside the walls, thus they kept on going. Eventually, they did reach them, six or seven tiny houses surrounding a bigger one next to a dock on the lakeshore. The two became unsure when they saw a trio of cultists outside one of the houses, sitting on a table in the dying rays of the setting sun, drinking and playing what looked like a board game.
Momentarily, Sansa considered turning back, but they were already spotted, one of the men, the observer to the two players, even waved them in, beckoning them forth. At the action of their comrade, the other two stopped their game and looked at them as well. Unwillingly, Sansa approached.
The more she looked at them, the more…normal she found them even as her logical, yet tired mind was telling her that this was a deception.
"Ah! Unwilling recruits!" said a woman, one of the players as she looked at them with a pity smile. All three cultists had their usual hoods down, fully revealing their features. A beautiful blond woman in her twenties, an elderly, yet cleanly-shaven bald-headed man and a rugged dark-haired man in his thirties.
"H-How can you tell?" Sansa found herself asking.
"Well." Laughed the elder man, the observer, "Let us see. Civilian clothes, yet none of the undead are attacking you. Oh, and you radiate fear."
"No need to be ashamed, we were not the most willing of recruits ourselves when we joined." Intoned the woman
"Aye, you best make peace with it now." Said the rugged man "If not, you can always try this." He continued before lifting a bottle for a moment to show them and proceeding to down it.
"Ignore Marcus, he is bitter because I am not letting him have any." Giggled the woman with an evil smile on her face.
"And what else is there to do? Tend to corpses? Stitch abominations? Brew plagues? Piss on that!" he grumbled.
"Only sex and drink remain." He said before flipping the bottle over with nothing coming out of the end "And now, I don't have even them…"
Sighing, the woman rubbed her temples as the elder man addressed the two girls again, the duo finding themselves surprisingly relaxing, if a little.
"I am Leopold, this pretty flower is Beatrice and you were already introduced to Marcus." Said the elder. "And you?" he asked.
"Sansa and Myranda." The now named Leopolds' eyes momentarily fell to the sacks at their sides and his eyes saddened.
"Oh, you poor children…they did THAT with you…" shook his head the elder.
"Marcus, please find a new bottle for our companions. And two chairs as well."
"Eh, why should I do it?"
"Marcus." The old man looked at him, half ordering, half pleading. "Please."
Sighing heavily and overdramatically, the man got up and went to do his assigned task. He returned, not a minute later, a chair in each arm and a bottle in his right hand. They put the board game away and opened the bottle, beckoning the two girls forth. Unsure at first and despite herself, Sansa found herself moving forth, Myranda beginning to move when Sansa did. Sitting down, they became unsure what to do with their gifts, the red-head eventually settling on leaving it in her lab, her younger companion following suit.
"Drink." Intoned the elder, slightly nudging the bottle forth with his fingers as he reached over the table.
Gingerly picking up the bottle, Sansa took a brave deep swing before nearly dropping the bottle as coughing fits overtook her.
"Don't waste it!" said a panicked Marcus.
The liquid burned. Oh, how it burned. It burned her mouth, her throat, it would seem her very body. Tears welled up in her eyes and it took nearly half a minute for things to settle. Looking up through blurry vision, she saw small smiles on the faces of all three cultists.
Passing on the bottle to Myranda, the little girl looked skeptically at the bottle given her friend's reaction to its contents. Yet with some more prompting, she too did take a swing, yet a much smaller measure one. Not that it saved her from the consequences.
As Myranda coughed and choke, Leopold asked in a gentle voice:
"Did you know them?" gesturing to the sacks with his head. Sansa could not bring herself to answer, only shaking her head.
"Yes. She was…" tears welled up in Myrandas' eyes. "She lived down the street from us."
Sniffing, she continued.
"She was always nice. Always giving me some sweet…" Sansa found herself reaching over and gently stroking her hair. "She died for me…" and the redhead was reminded of the knight's sacrifice.
"So did he." She mumbled. After a short pause, Leopold said, lifting his own bottle:
"To the honorable dead!"
"Hear, hear!" intoned Marcus, producing a bottle out of nowhere.
Myranda took another small drink before returning the bottle to Sansa, who, despite the known consequences, took another drink. This time, it burned less, the liquid almost soothing her body. Almost.
A silence descended over the five as the sun disappeared behind the far-off mountains to the west, a ruined city just barely visible on the far side of the lake. Finally, Marcus spoke up, looking at them with interest.
"So? What will you be?" the other two rolling their eyes at their friend's bluntness. Looking down, Sansa responded:
"They said Necromancer or infiltrator."
"Huh, I am surprised you don't have a ghoul following you. They are quite keen on getting more necros." Intoned Beatrice with Marcus saying right after:
"Aye, something must have happened. I saw Jonathan the other day. He said they are trying to capture as many alive as possible. Even crusaders!"
"Jonathan's' word can't be trusted…he is an even bigger drunk than you." Responded the blond with skepticism.
"Hey, you watch your mouth! Jonny is my friend!"
"So is the giant spider across the bridge. Your point?" smugly asked Beatrice.
"Please, please, don't argue infront of our guests." The elder tried to spread peace between the two youngsters. "Jonathan's' word may be questionable, but they did lose a necropolis in the north sea."
"Yeah… pilot error my hairy ass. We all know how those things are maintained. Just throw more magic crystals at it until it stays afloat." Grumbled Marcus. "I ain't getting on any of those junks, I don't care even if they turn me into ghoul gruel."
"No need to worry, then. No ghoul would eat you, least it gets sicks and dies." Joked Beatrice, earning herself a glare from Marcus and a laugh from Leopold. Surprisingly, Sansa found herself smiling before taking another drink from the bottle. As she passed it onto Myranda, she found that it no longer burned. Instead the rich, sweet liquid settled down her nerves and spread warmth through her body. After a while, the elder man spoke up, looking at Sansa and Myranda with a serious expression.
"Now, listen closely, you two."
"Can we assume that you… how to say it…" he wondered aloud, casting a glance at the many skeletons dotting the lake shores every few feet or so. Eventually, leaning in, he whispered.
"That you don't really want to be part of any of this?"
The two girls made a gentle, barely visible nod, suddenly frightened at how secretive the man was. He made a hand gesture, telling them to relax before sitting back in his seat.
"Tomorrow, when you go into Scholomance, you will be asked to pick your subjects. Since no one necromancer can learn everything, they instead settle only on a number of things. Even Kel'Thuzard doesn't know it all." Sansa was unsure who was Kel'Thuzard, but she assumed he was a high-level cultist.
"Fuck that guy." Mumbled Marcus into his drink.
"Anyway, as I was saying-" slightly annoyed at the interruption, Leopold continued.
"-you will be asked to select subjects. Unfortunately for you two, Reanimation and Soul craft are mandatory for everyone. Beyond that you have to pick three-"
"Four." Interrupted Beatrice.
"Ah, yes, four subjects. I would advice Alchemy. It practically does not involve any magic, dark or otherwise. Sorcery would not be bad for you. Jandice Barrov can be a bit annoying, but she will make sure you are succeed, if only because of her own ego. What else, what else…"
"Runes." Again helped the blond cultist.
"Ah, yes, runes. Runes are great. They are like magic…without been magic… Its' weird. But great! And will actually go really well with alchemy. Oh and Professor Petrova would be happy to have you."
"Hah! She is happy to have anyone! Noone takes runes." Scoffed Marcus. Rolling his eyes, the elder finally said:
"And for the final one… I don't know." He mumbled, stroking his cleanly shaved chin. "Pick something that does not sound that bad. Just make sure- "he looked at them with serious, almost frightened eyes "-that you do not pick Blood magic. You would be literally better off picking shadow, picking flesh crafting… just…just don't pick Blood."
Sansa and her little companion tried to remember everything, but they were so overwhelmed. Barely two days ago she was back in her home in Winterfel, her biggest worry been what dress to order. And now she had to choose HOW she would damn her very soul. The two of them remained with the trio of cultists until it was almost dark out and surprisingly, the content of the bottle was nearly gone as well.
Leopold, casting a glance at them suddenly ushered them along.
"That is enough for today, those two need their rest." He said both to his own two companions as well as to the two girls.
"We… we were told- " "- that there would be free houses here…" Sansa stumbled over her words, finding herself barely staying awake.
"Its only us out here. Take your pick." Shrugged Beatrice. Nodding her thanks, Sansa tried to get up, but failed, earning a chuckle from the rest.
One her second go, she managed if barely, but when she turned to Myranda, she saw her already asleep in the chair, snoring lightly. Hearing a sigh, she turned just in time to see Marcus get up and go behind her towards Myranda.
"I'll help you with her."
Nodding her thanks, Sansa wordlessly led to what was more or less the closest house with a functioning door that was not the one occupied by the three cultists. The inside was sparse. A double bed, a fireplace, a toppled table and two chairs.
She did not remember settling down, nor did she remember hugging Myranda close. She also did not remember been tucked in, nor falling asleep. And despite the moldy, disgusting bed that creaked with every little movement, Sansa did not remember when was the last time she slept so well.
"They are not waking." She vaguely heard a female voice.
"Well, push them harder. Shove them, if you have to. You know what will happen if they are late." Responded an irritated male one.
A sharp movement cause pain to shoot through her head, the girl groaning as she got up. Her vision slowly came to her as she blinked her eyes quickly, trying to clear them.
"Rise and shine." Sing-songed the female voice, Sansa seeing Beatrice sitting on the side of the bed, an amused smile on her face, while her two male companions stood through the room, looking towards the bed in equal amusement. Sansa momentarily wondered just who were these people, what was happening. Why were there strangers in her bedchamber…and why did her head hurt as much as it did.
Things slowly started to return to her, the red-head suddenly beginning to feel sick, figuratively and literally. She saw a head pop up in her vision to her left, Myranda rising up to sit in bed as well, finally freeing Sansa's hand that was underneath her. 'Ah, that is why I feel nothing in it.'
The two swayed like a pair of young trees in a gentle spring wind as they tried to wake up.
"Rise and shine." Repeated Beatrice "Because the sun will shine soon."
"W-What?" managed to say Sansa. 'Sun shine… sun rise… sun… rise…' blue eyes suddenly widened.
"WE HAVE TO GO!" the two scrambled out of bed under the laughter of the three cultists. Having fallen asleep in their clothes, they did not have to bother getting dressed and as such directly bolted to the door. Usually focused on appearance, Sansa had to settle for using her fingers as a comb as she ran, Myranda working similarly next to her. They vaguely heard behind them Leopold shouting:
"They will give you uniforms before going in! Wear the masks! THE MASKS!"
They ran and ran, around the lake, under the fiery gibbet and up to the second level, drawing many surprised looks as they went, the inner fortress suddenly filled with people all moving to the building on the top of the hill. Arriving before the house that they were dropped off at last night, they saw the same cultist woman standing outside with her arms crossed.
"You are late." She said, despite the sun not really having risen yet. "Go into that building and get your uniforms." Without waiting to be told again, they rushed to the building, it appearing more like a shop as opposed a normal house with a large display window that now stood covered by purple drapes.
Going inside, they were greeted with a half-asleep elderly woman and two skeleton that momentarily startled the girls upon entry.
"We are her-"
"I know why you are here. It is the only reason why anyone ever comes here…" grumbled the woman, awakening from her nap on the counter.
"C'mon, off. Everything, now!" she said, her voice suddenly becoming clear and assertive. "You! Close the door and don't let anyone in!" she said to one of the skeletons that obeyed without question.
Startled at first and reluctantly after, Sansa began to undress. A moment later, she stood in her small clothes, looking at the ruined dress at her feet
"I said everything!" suddenly shouted the woman, making Sansa jump. Swallowing hard and with great discomfort she slowly began to remove her shoulder straps before pulling the garment down and down before it too did stand in a pile at her feet.
The woman came to her and quickly took measures. 'Atleast this part is familiar…' Sansa said to herself while dying from shame, standing naked infront of a stranger. As the woman moved to take measures of Myranda did Sansa took her chance to look around the shop. She found herself surprised at just how many things she recognized. A large table for cutting, all the different fabrics stored in neat rolls along the walls, a wall of nothing but scissors and other tools of the trade. A small comfort. Not everything was a freakshow.
"Lucky you and lucky me. You both are standard sizes. This won't take long." the woman went and started rummaging through many drawers, opening and closing while muttering to herself all the way.
Finally, she came before Sansa with a piece of dark cloth, intermix of purple, black and silver. Awkwardly, the woman helped her put in on, what Sansa believed at first to be underwear soon turned out to be a whole garment, a single piece that covered her crotch and torso ending and closing around her neck. A strange pair of flaps hung on the front and back, starting beneath her breasts and ending just above her knees. Next, the woman gave her what can best be described as detached sleeves that ended at her upper arms as well as a pair of gloves. A pair of black socks with purple designs that ended at her thighs followed suit.
In the commotions, she did not see the second skeleton hand Myranda much more normal clothes. Underwear, pants, socks, gloves, an undershirt and a dress. They shared the same pattern as hers, but they were that much more modest. Dark leather heeled boots were given to both of them, as well as the now iconic purple hood and mask. The woman helped attach the hoods to previously unseen straps on their clothes before adjusting the masks around the lower halves of their faces.
As the woman stepped back and looked at the two expectingly, Sansa was unable to stop herself form asking.
"Is…is this all?" she said.
"Hmmm? Oh, right, the belts." Opening a drawer to her left, she swiftly adjusted a belt around each of their waists.
After another moment of silence and inactivity, Sansa asked again:
"I mean…is it supposed to be like that?" while gesturing to her exposed thighs and rear. The woman in turn only shrugged.
"I cannot go out like that!" Sansa found herself protesting despite everything.
"It's a leotard, honey. Nothing much I can do about it. Even the crotch flap is as long as I can put it." Sighing and in a gentler voice she answered:
"I can spare your friend this…outfit… given how young she is, but not you. Sorry. You will have to bear it. If you come across some money, maybe you can buy a full cloak to alteast cover your behind."
"Why can't you give me one now?" cried out Sansa.
"It is what it is. Now run along, I can feel Feralda getting angry from here."
'Atleast with the mask and hood, no one can recognize me.' Sansa told herself. She found Myrandas' eyes looking up at her from underneath her own hood, the two sharing a look of helplessness. As she exited, Sansa caught a glimpse of herself in an old mirror next to the door and was shock at how unrecognizable she was.
Her heart sank as she also saw in the mirror how her old garments were swiftly picked up by one of the skeletons, rolled into a ball and carried away.
Her last piece of home disposed of.
The speed will pick up from here on out. I love the story of the "overpowered character return to Westeros and kicks ass" most commonly featuring Jon Snow, but I wanted to write the "before" to that story which is often missing or vaguely explained/referenced, the how a character became OP and combine that with a much darker tone.
Thank you for reading.