Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by Priapus, Marethyu, Mike God of Lore, Beans
The Guild of Gamers: The Warlock
Chapter 09: White Rose
— Vernossiel —
In truth, even with Saskia's reputation, the human woman's claim should have fallen on deaf ears. Yes, Saskia had once fought for a chance for non-humans to have their own place in the world, but the woman's claims were outlandish even by magical standards.
Of course she knew about the Raven Queen and the rumoured origins of her entire race, but the idea that the mystical being was active once more seemed nothing more than a tall tale. Sure, the presence of a genuine fairy gave her tale some weight but it still seemed impossible.
But in the end, it wasn't the fantasy that got Vernossiel to listen to Saskia's recruitment pitch. It was the simple truth that she wanted to keep her people alive.
Her band of Scoia'tael made up a dozen men and women who had stuck by her side as they'd scattered to the wind after everything went to shit at Loc Muinne. The forces that had gathered under Iorveth had scattered to the four winds as their dream had died.
She'd kept up the cause, attacking the Redanian soldiers who'd tortured, raped and murdered her kin, but she had a dozen men in the middle of Redanian-held territory and their attempt to disguise the supply raids as monster attacks were only going to hold so long.
She knew that there was a bounty on the 'monster's' head, and she'd killed several ambitious or desperate peasants with pitchforks who were after the reward. It was only a matter of time until someone competent took the contract and the gig was up. Even if they bested whoever discovered them, they'd be forced to flee before the Redanian army descended on the woodlands looking for them.
"Stay on the path. Hold each other's hands in a chain, if you wander into the mists, you'll likely never return," Saskia warned, and she gave her men a warning look as she did as commanded. It felt childish but Saskia looked deadly serious as the tree she stood in front of twisted and opened up to form a gateway. "Follow close behind," Saskia ordered, taking Vernossiel's hand and leading them along the forest path, mists surrounding them on all sides.
As she heard her parents calling for her, she almost broke free to rush to them before Saskia grabbed her. In an instant, reality hit her and reminded her that her family was long dead at the hands of the Redanians, feeling the fool. She saw she wasn't the only one hearing things, but she was proud that her men were holding anyone who tried to leave back at Saskia's order.
The voices faded, and for a moment she thought it was all over, the fey had had their fun. She should have known better as she heard the sound of ripping cloth and her mother's voice begging for help. That wasn't what happened, her mother had told her to run and she had.
This time, her mother's voice cried for Vernossiel to come to her rescue, begging for help as she spotted her mother's figure in the distance, exactly as she remembered her, surrounded by shadowy figures as they tore away her mother's clothes. She shut out the shouts for help, even as they turned from pleas for help to cursing her for her cowardice.
One of her men broke free, trying to rush into the forest as two others tackled him, having to physically carry him to the end of the path.
"What… foulness was that?!" Vernossiel demanded as they got free of the mists, but her anger cut off as she stared forward in shock.
She'd seen the ruins that remained of her people's architecture, she'd seen art of their glory days. She'd thought she understood how elegant her people's buildings had once looked. She was wrong, as she stared at the pristine buildings before her, an elven castle overlooking a small town.
It looked so much better than the art could hope to show.
"My apologies. It seems the fey are eager to lure in their elven brethren. I'll speak to the Raven Queen about it," a soft voice called out, getting her attention away from the castle as she met the speaker's violet eyes.
Standing tall and clad in silver, elven-styled armour, the man gave her a welcoming smile as two long pointed ears poked out of his neatly styled hair.
"Lucas, this is Vernossiel. She's the leader of a small band of Scioa'tael that survived the failure of Vergen," Saskia introduced, giving Lucas a smile. "Vernossiel, this is Lucas, the ruler of Albion and a noble in the Raven Queen's court."
"This is the man you claim that the Raven Queen tasked with ending the persecution of our people?" Vernossiel asked, eyes narrowing. "The human turned elf?"
"Birth race means little when the Raven Queen is involved. I was indeed born human, but as you can see, my pact with the Raven Queen has altered that," Lucas confirmed in Saskia's place. "And that is indeed one of my missions. You are welcome in Albion. I've had a set of buildings marked out for you and your followers."
Vernossiel gave him a suspicious look, having only survived this long by being slow to trust before she made up her mind. Witchers had all once been human, and she did not blame them for the crimes of their former people. If the Raven Queen had truly blessed Lucas, then he was very much in the same vein.
"You have my gratitude," Vernossiel finally said, giving him a nod. Saskia had told her that he'd forbidden a plan that would have blamed an attack on the Templars on her and her people, so she owed him for that at the very least. "If you truly mean to fight for my people, you'll have our aid."
"Of course. For now, get settled in. Bella can show you to your new homes," Lucas explained, giving the fairy a smile as she landed on his shoulder, chattering in a language that both sounded Elvish and yet was foreign enough to be nearly unintelligible to her. Lucas responded back in the same tongue, before Bella took flight again only to hover in the air instead of leaving.
Lucas seemed mildly surprised when Bella refused to move, but his attention was seemingly diverted by something only he could hear.
"Raven playing games, again?" Saskia asked in amusement, seeing the look on Lucas' face.
"Something like that," Lucas agreed, his eyes glimmering with silver light. "She's pleased by the first step in bringing the elves into Albion and has what she called a 'fitting gift' for this."
As he spoke, the mists soared forward and swirled around the ground before him, before dispersing, a confused, bloodied figure standing before them.
"What- where am I?" the elven woman asked in Elven, looking around in confusion and shock. She looked oddly familiar to Vernossiel, but she couldn't place the newcomer. "The battle! What happened to my people?!"
"I'm afraid the battle ended well over two hundred years ago, my lady," Lucas responded in fluent Elvish, getting her attention. "The Raven Queen plucked you away at the moment of your death as she found your… passion amusing."
"I- I remember that. The Shadar-Kai took me and then… nothing," the figure admitted, as Vernossiel tried to work out who this was before her heart stopped. "What- what happened?"
"Your final battle against the humans ended in defeat, the men and women you led into battle slaughtered to the last," Lucas admitted softly. "Your name and cause lives on, Lady Aelirenn, as elves such as these men and women fight for their freedom to this day, but your war ended in defeat."
Aelirenn. The White Rose of Shaerrawedd. The woman who had convinced her people to rise up and fight against the human invaders when the elven elders had all but given up and planned to simply retreat and hide.
Even though the Scioa'tael had been formed over two hundred years later, there wasn't a single member that didn't know the name and story of Aelirenn.
"Is it really-" one of her men gasped, staring in awe as Aelirenn turned to them with curious and yet grief-filled eyes. Vernossiel could only imagine how she would feel if she was pulled from a battle only to be told that all her allies died two hundred years ago.
"So the fight continues, even now?" Aelirenn asked, her face a mixture of pride and disappointment. "I am glad to see that the desire for freedom still lives on, even if my land does not."
As her men sputtered and stuttered, Vernossiel understood that right then and there, she had just lost her position as their leader. And yet, as she looked upon a legend she thought long dead, she could not bring herself to care.
— Lucas Hall —
As Bella takes the Scoia'tael to their new home, Aelirenn's face falls into a deep frown and she turns to me as I gesture for her to follow me into the castle, for some privacy. Saskia gives me a wave and a mouthed thanks for going along with her desire to recruit her former followers before she follows Bella to help them get settled in.
"Your home is beautiful. It reminds me of the palace of Shaerrawedd before the elders destroyed it to prevent humans from claiming it," Aelirenn says as I lead her to a private room. "I- I heard the Raven Queen's words before I fell into my slumber. She told me that I had doomed my people."
"Raven enjoys poking at open wounds," I commiserate.
"Is it true?" Aelirenn asks, pushing aside my platitudes.
"In a way, yes," I admit, from what Raven told me about our newest recruit. "When you led your followers into war, the majority of the younger elves followed in your footsteps. More than that, you inspired countless other young, brash elves to rise up and follow your lead by waging open war."
"And they were slaughtered for it," Aelirenn finishes.
"The main issue was that the elder elves who remained behind could no longer reproduce. Elves were already being outbred by humans, and the loss of so many of the younger generation made that issue far worse," I explain, knowing that trying to lessen the truth isn't going to help here. "While many of the other young female elves remained behind, more than three quarters of the young male elves were wiped out in the war that broke out after you violated the truce, and the conditions for elves grew far worse as the humans claimed that since the elves broke the treaty to begin with, you couldn't be trusted with a second one leading to alienages and the surviving people being suppressed."
I don't mention the fact that many of the young female elves found themselves having half-elf children, whether willingly or otherwise, but I don't need to. She can read between the lines well enough. She fought for freedom, but her actions led to the decimation of her population and the conditions her people live in today.
Raven had called her a hotheaded, shortsighted bitch and suggested that I make her repay her debt by using her to repopulate the elven people.
Francesca Findabair was one of the young elves that led her people into a losing battle, inspired by Aelirenn. Long before she was the Queen she is today. Her charge ended as badly as Aelirenn's with her people being slaughtered and her father disowning her.
"Then why save me? Why bring me back?" Aelirenn asked, sounding exactly as broken as I'd expect someone told they more or less caused two hundred plus years of torment and subjugation for her race to sound.
"I rarely know why Raven does anything. Maybe she just found the irony of your intentions and your results amusing," I admit, getting a dark laugh from her. "But I do know why she sent you here, at least. Despite the results, you're an icon to the elves of today. You failed, but you were the first to be willing to stand up for your people."
"They looked at me like I was some kind of-" Aelirenn trails off, the hotheaded freedom fighter replaced with a far more weary woman.
"Saint? Legend?" I ask. "As I said, you are. To this day, elves travel to Shaerrawedd to honour your name, tending to the white roses that grow there as a way to honour your legacy," I explain, knowing that each word is another nail driven into her heart.
"A legacy of slaughter and rape?" Aelirenn asks with a dark, hate-filled laugh.
"A legacy of resistance, even against unwinnable odds," I correct.
"I didn't think it was unwinnable. I thought we'd best the man-apes and drive them out of our land," Aelirenn points out. "If I'd known-"
"But you didn't, and time has a way of sanding down the rough edges of its legends," I point out. "As I said, I know why Raven sent you here. Albion is her investment in a second chance for the Elves. A way for the elves of your world to be freed from the oppression they face, something she's tasked me with achieving. You are here… as a tool for that cause."
"How?" Aelirenn asks, her tone lifting somewhat.
"You remain a legend, and being saved by the Raven Queen to return when needed the most will only add to that. Saskia has some influence, but she lacks the status that you hold. Help me bring your people into Albion, away from that dying world," I request. "A prophecy claims that the world is doomed to white frost, and I have been tasked with saving the elves and mages from both the suppression of humanity and the end times."
"'Your people?" Aelirenn asks, and I just smile.
"I was born human, I won't deny that. The Raven Queen turned me into what I am today, and while I share many similarities with elves now, I'm not quite the same nor would I claim to be one of your people. I'm closer to a fey, or maybe I'm simply one of a kind now," I explain, seeing her expression shift several times as she works through that.
It takes more than a cosmetic change to be a part of a people. Their culture, struggles and history are alien to me. Calling myself an elf would be the same as a white dude from the suburbs putting on blackface and claiming he understands the struggles of african americans because of it.
I've never been oppressed even by modern standards. I was rich and lived a lavish life in my past life, one that I worked my ass off to get but a lavish life all the same. I've never gone hungry, because even at the worst point of my life I was thoroughly middle-class and a bad year meant we didn't go on vacation that year at the worst. Or we'd only go for a week rather than two.
"So that's it? I'm to be a figurehead for my people?" Aelirenn asks. Despite her legend, she wasn't a true warrior. She's young, with an almost frail, petite and slender build. I'm sure her beauty played a part in her success, but her true talent was in oration, not battle. "Swear to me that they will thrive in Albion."
"They will, as long as Albion itself thrives," I promise easily. It's my mission from Raven, after all.
"Then I am yours to command, King Lucas," Aelirenn vows.
"You understand that you'll have to work alongside the other races, including humans?" I ask, seeing her features shift as her depression is briefly overcome by rage before she nods.
"You know the weight of my failure. If I can do anything to save my people from the fate I inflicted on them, then I must no matter the cost," Aelirenn replies. "If Albion is our last chance, then it must succeed. Even if it means living alongside the man-apes I sought to exterminate. Do you have a plan for me?"
I hesitate, because I'm not sure how she'll take my first thought.
"Speak. I swore myself to your command, did I not? Use me as needed, if it aids your cause," Aelirenn says simply.
"You're a legend amongst almost all non-humans, and my first thought was to take you as a mistress to let Albion benefit from that legend and give it far more legitimacy amongst the non-humans," I admit. I wouldn't make someone who'd caused so much trouble my future Queen, but her mere presence by my side gives me sway with the Scoia'tael and the various races.
"You intend to keep me as a trophy to amplify your own legend?" Aelirenn asks, scowling briefly before she sighs and reaches up. Her bloodied dress slips down her form as she moves the straps off her shoulders and she steps out of it wearing nothing else but the blood of her enemies and allies. "The Raven Queen gave me to you as a… gift, didn't she? Your reward for taking the first step in achieving her mission. So be it, claim your reward."
I almost go to do the 'proper' thing and tell her to take time to settle in, despite the perky breasts of a tomboy elf jiggling slightly before me, but Raven's voice stops me.
'This stuck-up little bitch doomed her race more than any human. She was so sure, so certain that she'd not only defeat the humans but conquer the very world for her kind. Her place is on her knees or back. Breed her, and for each baby elf you pump into her womb, I'll reward you.'
Aelirenn fidgets as she stands before me, nude. Her hand reaches up to touch her short, blonde hair in a mixture of impatience and hidden self-doubt as she wonders if I find her undesirable. Her self-worth is in the gutter, as it is. Unlike the other girls and women I've enjoyed, she has a considerable bush of blonde hair topping her elven cunt.
"Follow me," I order, putting some authority in my voice as she flushes. Despite her rebellious nature, she follows behind me as I lead her to my private bathroom, her face going deeper red as she realises the problem. "I hardly find two-hundred year old blood appealing, Aelirenn. Disrobe me."
As the magical bath fills itself, Aelirenn moves forward and with slow hands, begins removing my clothes. Raven whispers that despite her reputation, Aelirenn died a virgin and as my cock springs free, it's the first she's ever seen.
"Raven was right about one thing. Your shortsightedness caused the elven population to be doomed to spiral," I scold, watching her head droop. "So today, you're going to begin repaying the debt you owe to the Elven people, one child at a time."
"W-what?!" Aelirenn squeaks, her eyes widening at the realisation of my meaning.
"Your children will be pure-blooded elves, Raven assures me of that. If we got every elf left in the world together in Albion, it would be less than the number you led into battle. To truly thrive, your people must repopulate," I point out, guiding her into the bath, stepping into the hot water and guiding her nude form in with me. "You're not a warrior, Aelirenn. You were bested easily. You are not a leader, as your shortsightedness doomed your kind to centuries of pain. You are an icon, and many will follow your lead. Your example. Today, you're going to set an example of what your people truly need to be doing."
As I speak, my hands wander her form as I get her nice and soapy, working away the dirt and blood of battle. She's not got any wounds, thankfully, and she's like putty in my hands despite her earlier shout. She does nothing to resist as I grope her buttocks or breasts, my fingers exploring her slender figure and petite chest.
As I finish getting rid of the most obvious dirt and blood, I move her to the edge of the bath and step closer. My cock is hard and ready as she slowly parts her legs to expose her tight virgin pussy.
Today, I, a former human, am about to deflower quite possibly the most worshipped elf in their history. Something tells me that such a realisation would cause many of the male elves to end their lives in shame.
"If that is what I need to do," Aelirenn agrees softly, almost clinging to the idea that she can do anything to help her people, even if it means this. My cock pushes against her slit for a moment, the water causing it to slip upwards before I grasp it and take aim. With a single thrust, the White Rose of Shaerrawedd is deflowered as she gasps in surprise, her hands wrapping around me for support as her nails dig into my back. "Tell me this will help. Please."
"One day, in the not so distant future, your people will be free and thriving in Albion, with our children amongst them," I whisper into her ear before I kiss her neck, suckling on a sensitive spot as she moans. "You will lead your people to this sanctuary, and help me build a true paradise for elvenkind."
Her cunt squeezes down on me desperately, as her mind latches onto the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, her crimes can be undone.
Effectively, we've taken an elven legend and destroyed her self-worth to the point where she is clinging to the hope that she can have a purpose by being a brood mother. Well, the reality of her rebellion did most of the work.
The fact is, I wouldn't trust her to be out and about of her own accord anyway. She ignored all the warnings, took the last line of defence the Elven kingdoms had and broke the fragile peace between them and the humans. Idealism can only go so far, and nothing I've said has been untrue.
Kissing her roughly, possessively, I continue my work on her mind as I dominate her body.
"I'm going to save your people, Aelirenn. To succeed where you and so many others have failed," I mumble into our kiss, which she is slow to return. "That's why the Raven Queen picked me. It's my destiny. You're going to be a good girl and help me," I grunt, punctuating each word with a powerful thrust as the water splashes.
"P-please," Aelirenn begs, her hips starting to move to meet mine. "Let me help."
"After how badly you failed, all you're good for is your reputation… and this fertile elven womb, and I'm going to use them both to their full potential," I growl, hands gripping her hips tight enough to bruise as I relentlessly pound into her cunt before I roll us over so I'm sitting in the tub with her impaled on my lap. "You want to help? Move those hips."
Her body shudders as her hips lift until she's almost off my cock, right before they slam back down. She sets a pace more punishing than I did, desperate for any lifeline.
"Please, your majesty. Breed me," Aelirenn pleads, kissing my face as she keeps moving her hips. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I failed, but let me do this much."
Raven definitely did something to her mental state because her madness is clear and Raven's giggling is telling. Aelirenn swaps between begging for me to cum to begging for forgiveness and apologising for her crimes, and my powers tell me she means every word.
Pulling her down onto my cock, I grunt as I finally cum and as soon as my hyper-fertile seed floods her womb, she climaxes, letting out a lewd cry.
Collapsing onto me, she rests her head on my shoulder for a moment before she pulls back.
"I have control of my fertility, and I can assure you that you are already pregnant after one round," I say, squeezing her ass as she perks up. "But you said it yourself. You're my reward. The first round was for the future, the next few are just for my entertainment," I purr, her eyes widening as I move her and bend her over the side of the bath as she steadies herself by placing her arms on the rim. Despite my words, her legs part as I move behind her and Raven giggles at the submission of the Elven Rebel.
— Later —
"Was that truly the White Rose herself?" Philippa asks, frowning deeply as I arrive at the council room. The other Lodge members and Saskia are here already.
"It was. Raven apparently grabs 'interesting' mortals before their deaths. Or she was planning this for far longer than any of us could have imagined," I hum. The idea that Raven has been preparing for Albion for this long certainly causes some whispers and looks before I move on. "Either way, her return, once it becomes publicly known, will help us gain the non-human followers we'll need for Albion to survive. It's useful, but not our immediate problem. Triss?"
"The convoy is moving, as we speak. I had Vlad watching for it, and it should arrive in Oxenfurt by tomorrow night," Triss confirms. I lent her Vlad to have him scout for us, but this is ahead of schedule. What has the Templars spooked into rushing?
"We have the Shrieker, and Vernossiel is willing to assist as the witch hunters and templars are no friends of the non-humans," Saskia points out, itching for a chance to fight.
"And yet, this will kick the hornets' nest. Radovid is no fool, and even with no evidence, paranoia might drive him to act rashly all the same," Philippa, ever the voice of caution when it's not her terrible plan, points out. "The Templars are dangerous, more than capable of slaying most monsters especially in these numbers. If we kill them all, it looks suspicious that an entire squad was wiped out by bad luck and a monster, and Radovid sends reinforcements. If we accidentally leave a survivor or a witness, the jig is up."
"I thought you liked this plan?" Saskia growls, frustrated.
"I think the monster idea is more graceful than just attacking with magic, yes. That doesn't mean I don't see the flaws in it," Philippa counters.
"The simple truth is that nothing stays secret forever," I point out, getting their attention. "Sooner or later, he's going to realise that you've all slipped through his fingers and turn his attention to the one Lodge member he does have. I think our best bet is to hit him hard and fast, striking the prison while they're still recovering from the attack on the convoy. With luck, they may even be investigating, which will force them to leave the city and prison to go to the attack site."
"Or they'll turtle up inside the prison," Yennefer points out as I consider things, looking over the map we have of the region.
"What if we forced an event that the Templars had to respond to?" I ask, getting their attention. "They're the militant order of the Eternal Fire, yes?"
"They are, though I have my doubts about their supposed origin. I do not believe these men to be the fools of the Order of the Flaming Rose," Yennefer agrees.
"We have a lot of firepower here, and the Eternal Fire is our enemy. I'm all for religious freedom but their religion is whipping the world into an anti-magic and non-human frenzy," I muse. "So, tell me. How would the Templars act if Temple Isle in Novigrad came under attack by powerful mages?"
"They'd have no choice but to come to the aid of the Grand Temple," Philippa mutters, eyes narrowing. "And Radovid would do the same, as he has stationed his ship in Oxenfurt."
"Then, we attack Deidreadh when the Templars leave Oxenfurt to assist in Novigrad," Saskia continues.
"I have an idea for who should attack Temple Isle. Raven owes me a reward for services rendered… and I can get her to retrieve a soul for me," I hum. "So, Philippa. How would Radovid react to Sabrina Glevissig returning from the grave and waging war against him and the Eternal Fire?"
A wave of whispers breaks out at that particular name, given the deed that got her executed in the first place. She cast Melgar's Fire during the second Lormark war between Kaedwen and Aedirn, resulting in massive casualties for both sides.
"With insanity, but if we hit him hard enough, he won't be able to come after us with Nilfgaard breathing down his neck. If we make him bleed, Emhyr will smell blood. We have a balancing act to perform, we can't hurt the Northern Kingdoms so much that Nilfgaard can simply walk over them," Philippa reminds us. "But you're right. We have enough forces to divide and conquer. With this many lodge mages, and Sabrina, casting Melgar's Fire once more and sinking Temple Isle into the ocean would force them to react, it's a slap to the face of their entire faith and rhetoric."
"A lot of innocent people would die," Saskia points out.
"Not if we do this right," Triss, the Novigrad expert, points out. "We can warn the locals to leave Temple Isle, and even use it as a way to draw the Templars in if we give them a warning. Bedlam could be useful for ensuring that the civilians take the warning seriously. He has connections all over Novigrad. A great illusion threatening the Church of the Eternal Fire for their slights against mages. Let word spread, draw them in before we attack. Templars need to be close to nullify our magic, and Melgar's Fire is very long range."
"Word will spread fast. We could use this to get word to the other mages in hiding, because this would be something that they couldn't hope to suppress," Margarita agrees, despite a slightly troubled look on her face.
"So, we hit the transport to limit their lyrium and leave them wondering, then make a great show and threat at Temple Isle, right in the heart of their power," I say. "And when they have to react, drawn to Novigrad, we hit Deidreadh hard with Saskia in her dragon form. War between us and the Eternal Fire's witch hunt is inevitable, so we might as well ensure we get the first strike and make it a crippling one."
"I'm sick of being on the defensive. I've seen too many good men and women be dragged off or burnt at the stake for the crime of possessing even a sprinkle of magic," Triss agrees, eyes narrowing. "Caleb and his Temple Guard will be on Temple Isle, and he's the lead figure hunting mages in Novigrad. His death would take the boot off the surviving mages' necks."
"Radovid won't take this lying down," Philippa warns.
"I know, but as much as it frustrates me we still have need of him to prevent Nilfgaard from rolling over Novigrad," I sigh.
Magic is great for hit and run attacks, but we don't have the numbers to wage a full war. We're still struggling with the logistics of feeding this many people without adding more.
"Agreed, frustratingly. Still, with Nilfgaard as far north as Velen, Radovid won't be able to fully divert his attention onto us. Especially if we make the attack devastating to his Witch Hunters and Templar minions," Philippa admits. "But if your intention is truly to save as many of the non-humans and mages as possible, we'll need to prepare for a true influx of refugees fleeing the fire we're about to start. Radovid will turn his rage onto them once he realises that he cannot reach us."
"I know," I agree. "But we have plenty of farmable land, all we need is the farmers to work it. Unlike the mages Triss saved from Novigrad, many of the refugees will be able to work the land, all we need to last is a single harvest. Philippa, contact Ida and her Queen. Yennefer, speak to your contacts in Skellige. Find out what they have to trade and what they would want in return. If Albion is to thrive, we need trade partners and allies. This is a step in the right direction. Same to the rest of you if you can think of any contacts that you can trust."
"Yes, your majesty," Philippa agrees, and for once that title doesn't feel quite so mocking as I look over the map. We squabble about the exact details of both the convoy raid and the two attacks that will follow for a while, but the plan is set in stone now.
The Eternal Fire claims we should all be burnt for the crime of being born. Soon, they'll be the ones that burn under Sabrina's fire. I feel Grayson's pleasure at the idea of us striking the heart of the Church and Witch Hunters, and Raven's glee at the chaos to come.
But the fact remains, we need an army to defend ourselves. If the mages could defend themselves, they wouldn't be in this mess.
Albion is safe from non-magical threats, at least, but it we want this to truly work… if I want to truly accomplish my missions, I need to start taking land outside of my pocket dimension.
I need to take Novigrad. I can use it as a fortress to fight off Radovid from the north and Emhyr from the south. Magic can go far, but what I need is a true military force.
Then perhaps I can assist.
The feminine voice in my head makes me pause, since it both doesn't sound like Raven and also I could have sworn I heard Raven say 'oh shit' right before.
My wayward apprentice still gets nervous when I show up unexpectedly. Don't worry about her. I usually go by the Planeswalker, but for the sake of this little game Lord Grayson is playing, I suppose you could call me the Archmage. You require the knowledge and power to gain an army, I possess that knowledge and so much more.
At a cost, of course?
Now you're getting it, Lucas.