Sieglinde

Jeff hefur tekið upp að skrifa smásögur úr nördaheiminum hans Warhammer. Ég hef ákveðið þar sem mér finnst þær nokkuð góðar að leyfa ykkur að lesa þær líka. Þær eru á ensku auðvitað og eru stundum nokkuð dökkar, en engu að síður gefur honum eitthvað að gera og er góð æfing fyrir bókina sem hann er að skrifa.

Af okkur er allt við það sama, hljómar eins og fyrirtækið mitt er að fara á hausinn svo hvað gerist veit ég ekki, við lifum bara frá degi til dags með það og reynum að láta þetta ekki stressa okkur um og of. Við tökum á því þegar að því kemur.

Hérna er fyrsti hlutinn en hann skrifar reglulega á vefsíðu ostemark.com um Sieglinde. Þetta er í mjög skemmtilegum stíl, warhammer.com er með samkeppni þar sem þeim eru gefnar aðstæður og svo eiga þau að skrifa undir þeim. Þannig að Jeff skrifar sögu og síðan tekur næsti við þar sem hann hætti.

Forsagan er að það er stríð í gangi í Praag og Jeffs karakter Sieglinde er sendur þangað.

Áður en við byrjum þá er smá kynning á Sieglinde

 

Full Name: Sieglinde Mournblade

Lineage: unknown, currently serving House Eilserv

Current Age: exact age unknown, several centuries of historical records

Birthplace: Har Ganeth, Naggoroth is where she believes

Profession: Maidb

Skills: infiltration, herbalism, alchemy, close quarters combat

Hobbies: torture, information gathering

Physical Description: Standing close to five and a half feet tall, Sieglinde's height is exaggerated by a large mane of dreadlocked hair, deep blue in color and bound by gromnil clasps. Her skin is pale white, her lips dark blue in stark contrast. Wether they are naturally this color or have been stained permanently by years of excessive sipping on vile poisons is unknown, even to her. On each shoulder is a matching tattoo of a black coiled snake, the emblem of House Eilserv.

Personality: Sieglinde has the confidence of someone who knows their true place in the world. She knows what her life's mission is, and knows who her true love is. She knows she was chosen by Khaine from birth, and that he above all else loves her unconditionally for the skills she possesses. She is not encumbered by her mortality, knowing that death will only bring her to her immortal husband. She is very vain about her appearance, especially her hair and her armor. She takes great lengths to make sure each piece is dyed the exact same shade of color. Stories are told in House Eilserv of how she once killed a guard for not taking enough time appreciate her form in a process that spanned several days. Memories of the screams the guard made has left those remaining in the uncomfortable position of not knowing when and when not to look at her as she passes.

Friends: Sieglinde has no friends, only temporary allies. Even these change on a day to day basis depending on what she remembers, or thinks she remembers. Years of drinking poisonous beverages have not only pushed her beyond sanity, but have relieved her of any sort of short term memory. She has problems remembering names and faces not work related, and as such has had her house emblem tattooed on her shoulders so she'd know where to return after an assignment. The only thing she seems able to remember these days are things she learned years ago while in school and every single death she's caused over the last two centuries. If asked, she is more then willing to discuss each and everyone one in a level of detail that makes even the skilled torturers of Malekith envious.

 

Chapter 1

 

 

The slave unclasped the tent flap as clumsily as he could manage, making sure to make an undue amount of noise. Too many of his brethren had paid the ultimate price by approaching his mistress without warning. From the opening he could see her sprawled out on her back naked, lying on a collection of white bearskin rugs. Empty glass vials laid strewn about the ground, some leaking oddly colored liquids. Her body was covered in a collection of small scars, some from her numerous enemies, some self inflicted. He noticed she still had her two makhairas grasped firmly in her hands, as if she was afraid she'd pass into the next world without them in her sleep. He made sure to stay well away from those, knowing how sharp they were.

"Mistress Sieglinde, you are being summoned to Lord Korigan's tent. From the conversation I overheard it sounds as if they are moving you to another battlefront."

One sleepy eye opened, and heavy blue lips purred "You dared spy on a Lord?"

The slave stammered for an answer but had none, and awaited a death of slashing blades.

"Well done. You are finally learning a skill other then awaking me from my dreams. Let's see what Korigan has to say shall we? Help me find my armor first though, I have absolutely no idea where I lost it."

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An hour later Sieglinde approached the tent of Lord Korigan. She was both armored and armed, as if expecting an ambush. The slave had managed to find her corset in a pile of snow by the tent opening, a dark red leather piece ornately decorated with grinning demon skulls. On her legs were pure white leggings tied off at her thighs. Over these she wore protective dark red greaves, fit to resemble overlapping dragon scales. Her hands were covered in matching gauntlets. A belt with a buckle fashioned in the form of a skull held what remained of her armor in place.

Two guards wielding halberds stood on either side of the entrance. Sieglinde ignored them as she made to enter the command tent.

"Stop witch elf filth, you'll enter only when Lord Korigan says you ca.... *gurgle*" His lecture was cut off as her left hand struck backwards in a quick deft motion, puncturing his throat with a makhaira. The guard fell to his knees grasping at his neck, blood pouring out the wound. She hadn't even looked back when striking, focusing on the Lord before her.

"I can only assume you placed that fool there because he was someone you needed disposed of," she smirked. Sieglinde didn't feel the need for exchanging pleasantries, she did not consider Korigan her superior.

Lord Korigan looked up from a vellum parchment he was reading, a battle map of some sort. He held a goblet of wine in one hand, despite the early hour. "Yes of course, I knew the foolish brute would say something stupid. Lower houses always go out of their way to try and prove their superiority to those obviously their betters. Cretins. I assume you slept well?"

She shrugged. "You should know, you were there." Her eyes seemed lost in thought, a wicked smile forming across her blue lips and a flush red spreading across her pale white cheeks. " From what I remember, I could use another nap. That is not why you called me here for though, is it."

Lord Korigan frowned. "No, indeed not. This parchment came this morning from a messenger of House Eilserv with your name on it."

"And what did it say?" she asked coyly.

Feigning indignation, Lord Korigan replied "I do not stoop to reading messages. That is what my spies are for."

Sieglinde unrolled the parchement, noticing the poorly made attempts to reconstruct the broken wax seal. She barely looked up to smirk. The smirk soon changed to a scowl though as she read the missifs contents.

"PRAAG???" she screamed at the top of her lungs.