Awakening:
Gretel Maurer knew something was wrong, and she couldn't pinpoint what it was.
It had barely been a year since she had officially joined the efforts of Braganza's Besiegers in building a Border Princedom that could control the Howling River and thereby grant Barak Varr dominance over Mad Dog Pass. Gretel had grown used to the company of the Tilean mercenaries, so it wasn't much of a fuss to deal with the paperwork and growing pains that came with integrating with a new group. And the Besiegers were clearly not the only ones who had decided to join this ambitious project.
The first group that had joined them, as if they had been waiting for this moment, were the Winter Wolves of Ulrikadrin. Some of them rode Winter Wolves, some of them did not, but they were all led by Ruprecht Wulfhart Jr. Gretel could only marvel at the creativity of his ingenious father.
The second group surprisingly came from her new home, Karak Eight Peaks. A few hundred Undumgi joined the Border Prince Mercenaries that fought for Karak Eight Peaks in this new venture, apparently not having been satisfied with one life changing adventure. Considering the majority of the Undumgi who had joined were relatively young, she could see why.
The third and least surprising was the mishmash of trusted mercenaries from Barak Varr who were expected to provide the level of confidentiality that this project requires while also providing the muscle needed for it to succeed, and that was not an inconsiderable amount of muscle. Braganza's Besiegers got along quite well with their fellows in the Marksmen of Miragliano, sharing a hometown and enemy forging bonds quicker than a Nuln forge. While Lumpin Croop's Fighting Cocks were not familiar faces per se, she got along well enough with the Halflings to appreciate their bawdy humor and crack a few jokes with them, discussing their distant relatives in Karak Eight Peaks (of which she had only a vague recollection of. How many relatives did they have?).
It was all well and good, and the year that Gretel spent was not quite as exciting as she had expected, but she supposed establishing supply lines, scouting the outlying regions and the tedious work of construction had to be done at some point, and the earlier the better. What unnerved Gretel however, was that something did not feel quite right.
She wasn't sure what it was. She had been working with the Besiegers for a little while now, and had come across Beastmen, Greenskin, Skaven and even the odd Chaos Cultist who thought the Border Princes was a good place to hide out. She hadn't seen all that many Necromancers or Undead, as much as she desired to take a look at some Nehekharan tombs, they weren't really all that visible in the Border Princes.
In Nehekhara, the Tomb Kings built their Necropolises as far as the eye could see with the intent of showing that they were larger than life, which they took quite literally. The Border Prince Tomb Kings did not have the luxury of abundant materials from which to build these Necropolises, and beyond that they faced a far greater Greenskin infestation that led their Tombs to be under far greater danger. That meant that their design philosophy tended towards grand but concealable, perhaps even built downwards rather than upwards.
Perhaps that was what was bothering her? The presence of a nearby Tomb? She had asked herself that question several times as she wandered the Besiegers' camp at night over the year, looking into the distance to view the World's Edge Mountains from afar. Squinting her eyes, Gretel tried to tap into her teacher's lessons to achieve the mindset necessary to cast Deathsight. Gretel was far more adept at taking souls than seeing them, so she had to concentrate for even this simple spell.
Sure enough, the effects of the spell were as morbid as they ever were. Gretel could see the traces of death and torn shreds of spirits that had been devoured by all the myriad creatures of the world crisscrossing the lands as they always did. The Border Princes was not the nicest place to die in the Old World, what with the lack of Morrite priests to give the dead their proper rest.
Gretel was sure she could see something though. If only she could pinpoint exactly where that "thing" was…
"Hola Chica."
Gretel dismissed her spell to look at the voice calling for her, and was greeted with Lucas' infuriating smirk. How she wished he would shave that mustache.
"What brings you here, Lucas. Don't you have a lady to entertain." Gretel was a bit irritated that she was interrupted in the middle of a revelation, but she couldn't entirely keep the slight contrition from her tone.
"I was, but Isabella kept asking for you. You got her pretty worried y'know? Going off in the middle of the night to gaze out into the wilderness."
"Were you that bad? I didn't realise I was signing on to bail you out of your failing relationship." Gretel raised her eyebrow in a questioning glance:
Lucas let out a chuckle. "Oh you know how demanding she gets. My back's still sore from last night, so I'm not up for much. Plus, I think it's better for you to not think so much. Not much good comes from that, eh?"
Gretel let out a put upon sigh, but she couldn't help the smile that came across her face. Technically, Gretel was supposed to be under an oath of celibacy. In actuality, she was hundreds of miles away from Altdorf and hundreds of leagues away from any other Wizard, much less an Amethyst. As a Wizard of the Wind of Death, Gretel knew full well that the End could come at any moment. Her response to that was not one that would generally be accepted by the College, so she left.
If the End could come at any time, then why not enjoy life to the fullest? As she followed Lucas to the tent she shared with him and Isabella. She could think about whatever bothered her tomorrow. Certainly, it doesn't seem to have moved all that much in the past year, so she supposed one day more of it being undiscovered wouldn't hurt.
—------
There was indeed something wrong in the Border Princes surrounding the Howling River. The increased activity and the hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of souls that moved through the territory was kicking the nest of a particularly dangerous hornet. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to call him a Scarab. A Black Scarab.
Karitamen had awoken, and he could feel the souls of tens of thousands encroaching upon his territory. That could not stand for long, but for now it was an opportunity.
Of those myriad souls available to him, he was sure he could find a fitting servant to release him from his prison.
AN: Got some inspiration to write something, and I finally followed through with one of my Gretel concepts. My mind was wandering over the kinds of stuff she would be involved in at the moment, so I wrote this. Karitamen's a fun character, and so is Gretel, even if we don't get much of her. I tried to expand a little bit on that without diving straight into a retelling of her backstory or anything. Hope you enjoy.
